#the little wooden vehicles thing is in reference to an idea i had about her! i'll present it with the fic for it

[redrockbluerock]

So for the four humors au, i've had 3 different ways Balan and Equil's falls each could go

Balan corrupts first- the most stable state, Equil has to deal with the guilt of both of her siblings being changed while struggling to train the new Balan. Most likely outcome is Equil forcing herself to be forgotten by the living upon corruption, trapping herself in a fate worse than death until she’s echoed herself, restoring the cycle.

Equil corrupts first- Least stable. Balan corrupts shortly after due to the stress of it all- and losing his sisters.

Both corrupt at the same time- surprisingly stable. Choleric, now echoed alongside Melancholia, watching helplessly as the new Lance and Librium try to run the show, the new Balan and Equil a set of twins- Comedy and Tragedy. This is the one I've decided is canon.

Rambles under cut for the Same Time option, just as nice and rambly as they were when i was writing it (with some formatting changes for clarity and fixed typoes)

Accidentally had a lot of thoughts about the corrupting at the same time thing and more angst for Choleric yippee!!

One: She dies young. She’s terrified and knows it’s happening, clutching her old hat to her chest and sobbing because she doesn’t want to die yet, she’s barely 4000 or so and Yet. Being comforted by Melancholia who’s both surprised he’s lasted so long and now saddened because he feels as if he’s stolen her lifespan for his own

Two: after Echoing, she’s finally finally herself again after so long… but both of her siblings aren’t themselves. it’s all wrong and she’s stuck in here forever and it’s not right, even with more people than she’s ever had around in her life it’s so. So. Lonely.

Comedic and Tragic are sweet, however, she cherishes every time they visit but when Lance or Librium visit… it’s bittersweet. The smile doesn’t suit Phlegmatic, nor does the permanent scowl fit Sanguine. They visit after every show, no matter which one was onstage

Equil Tragic (Proscenium) is… unnerved by how young she looks next to the rest of the Echoes, barely older than Lance or Librium- Eldest triplet, but by mere minutes. Of course, they’re not of the same set, so they’re likely to last millennia longer.

That of course would only become more jarring when Sanguine and Phlegmatic eventually echo. permanent babyface compared to them//

Choleric also tends to… wait. Just by the door of the hall. Sitting there. Staring.

Trapped with all these strangers that Melancholia seems to know,  the only person who she knows proper is Melancholia, and… their relationship is a mess due to who they both became. It’s awkward

She can’t leave the hall. She’s bound to her frame, and those things don’t come down. She’s tried, tried tearing it down until her hands were oozing the paint she’s now made of, until she was so exhausted she was unable to keep her form solid. The frame is still stained blue from her attempts

Tried next to see just how far into the frame she could go.

There wasn’t a limit, her running for hours down what felt like an endless hall. When she looked behind herself the opening was there. Looking to be no more than 20 feet away.

Gifts help- From Phlegmatic, from Sanguine, to the twins. Anything to keep her mind off of her prison. Melancholia settled better, having regained chunks of his memories, having grown up knowing this cycle existed.

Choleric though. This all was a surprise.

I haven’t really thought about Echoes trying to make duplicates before- mostly due to the majority of them being… well. Accepting of their fates. Maybe Choleric tries. And it works… sort of!

It’s like a dream, looking through its eyes. It’s rather ghostly looking, vague but just barely recognizable as her. An echo of her former self, if you will.

Her siblings don’t take too kindly to her like this, weighed down by their own guilt and emotions that she registers as a hallucination.

The new twins though, they’ll humor her. Letting her watch them work, occasionally squabbling with Tragic due to them taking on both lighting and sound work- “you aren’t doing it right” “you’re retired!”, that sort of thing. Tragic doesn’t mind the haunting, and oftentimes visits her properly so she can get a proper listen.

Comedic (who normally is Neo) still has the habit of cooking, and between bringing little treats to the echoes, has a bowl of sour things left for the Ghost- lest she steals unauthorized ingredients.

I’m having too much fun with this train of thought it’s becoming the canon one sorry girl

This timeline has the three of them having the most suffering! It’s all even!

Comedic: if you only touch the stuff in this bowl, I can bring you stuff where you can taste it better. Choleric: (puts down the lemon)

Easy to tell the Ghost has faded senses due to her habit of getting into people’s faces a lot- which while not new, Choleric startles much more easily as the Ghost tries not to wander on stage though, she doesn’t want to be noticed by guests lest she either startles them or catches her siblings’ attention

Lance Sanguine always seems to be fighting back tears around her. Libra Phlegmatic will usually just flick a bit of energy at her- just enough to burst the duplicate. In front of guests, she waits, smiling wider (a threat) until either the Ghost runs or the guests are distracted. Neither of them know it’s her, just assuming its their emotions slipping from their control.

revisiting the dying young bit: It would be painful to have her finally. Finally, after so many years, with this feeling in her chest where she knows she’s dying, she’s terrified- finally presents her siblings with the little wooden train and plane she’d made for them. They love them. They always would have. (As lance and Librium, those become their most guarded possessions.) It's bittersweet.

As for the process of echoing… she tries putting it off as long as possible, crumpled up in the portrait hall in front of her own. Melancholia waits with her, waiting until they’re both ready to accept the changes. By the time Sanguine and Phlegmatic realize what’s happened- suffering through changes of their own, the paint has already dried…

Neither of them- Choleric or Melancholia- could put it off any longer. They weren’t strong enough to leave the hall, barely had the strength to enter it with their garments. It hurts, hurts so much differently than corrupting did.

First thing Phlegmatic did as Librium is remake Choleric’s hat. She also finally gave her past suit a proper mannequin. The suits are moved to a different storeroom, set up almost as a gallery.

There, The old Lance’s and Librium’s suits are copied, Hung up for display. Over time she eventually makes ones of the Echoes as well, all the past Balans and Lances. 

Except Rancor, who’s still forgotten

[lilyevanstan1325]

🔥 Dangerous Game 🔥

Chapter 14

Amaya POV

“Ok guys here we are!Redwing is on the spot” Sam announces.

Bucky nods at me and grabbing my hand drags me in front of the PC screen from where Sam is following the movements of his beloved drone.

The place is totally dark, only a few beams of moonlight enter through the broken windows.

After a few moments Redwing begins to transmit his infrared images so that we can allow us to understand what is inside this old warehouse.

It flies over the area for a moment until our attention is captured by two big black shadows.

"Jackpot folks!" exclaims Tony excitedly.

Right now on the PC screen Redwing is broadcasting images of the two trucks that Sam, Bucky and I chased a few months ago.

"Now let's see if by scanning with X-rays we can understand what is hidden inside them" murmurs Sam, all busy typing his remote commands.

Redwing emits a faint red light that passes through both vehicles.

The images are processed by the drone's processors…and there they are.

On display we can see the hundreds of Vibranium bars and the wooden crates containing the Stark technology.

"Are you recording?" Steve asks to Sam.

“Yep.The images are stored in the internal memory of Redwing and in addition they are saved in an external hardware and on my personal PC"

"Great" murmurs T’Challa.

"But now we have to decide the next move" adds the King.

"I would propose to take advantage of the darkness to go there and install some bugs so we can capture images and everything that those two sons of bitches will say to each other at their next rendezvous.And then maybe install some in Rumlow's house and in his car”

I nod at Tony's words.

"Bucky and I can go to the old warehouse"

"Ok kid" Tony replies.

Then he turns to Steve.

“Captain, you and Romanoff take care of Rumlow.Sam and I will stay here and guide you to the places where you need to place the bugs.Agent Scott you can use Friday's secure line and contact Fury so you can explain all the latest news to him”

I love it when Stark gives the orders, he's confident and assertive.

He has arrogance.

I love this rich asshole.

"Do you think Rumlow won't notice anything?" asks Nat.

I am the one to answer her.

"No.And do you know why?Because he is good.He is smart.He managed to put all this on without getting caught.He believes no one is smarter than him, so he doesn't care about being watched.And we will use this arrogance to our advantage"

"Agent Snow is right.At this moment he feels invincible and we must take advantage of it" says His Majesty T’Challa.

We exchange a smile.

"Perfect.Back to work then” Steve urges us on.

Bucky and I take everything we need that Tony and Bruce have prepared for us and head to the abandoned warehouse using Bucky's car.

"Cute" I tell him referring to his SUV.

"Cute?This my little robin is a monster” he replies quite offended.

I snort rolling my eyes.

Bucky reaches out and pinches my thigh, I flinch.

“Ouch!I will remain a bruised idiot” I scold him crossing my arms to my chest.

“Like you don't have dozens of them on your body.I don't think you don't like it” Bucky teases me.

His hand rests again on my thigh but this time it goes up again with determination and languid towards my center.

I push his hand away.

"Look at the street Barnes"

"I can do both, you know?"

I roll my eyes and then turn my gaze out the window.

The skyscrapers of the big city begin to thin out, leaving space for smaller and lower buildings.

We are approaching the suburbs, soon we will be out of town and reach the warehouse.

"What are you thinking about doll?"

I sigh.

Bucky knows me well, he knows that there is something that bothers me.

"He had everything he wanted"

"Rumlow?"

"Mmh mmh.Power, a position of respect.The trust of many big fish.What the hell made him do such a thing?"

Bucky thinks about it for a moment then he answers me.

“I think it's for power.The feeling of feeling invincible, untouchable, this can make he lose his mind.I have no idea what his real intentions may be but of one thing I am sure...Rumlow wants to destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. and I think he also wants to overthrow the American government”

I turn back to him.

The rays of the moon illuminate his beautiful jawline.

Between his hair and his beard some silver threads made him even more attractive.

His lips part and his tongue, pink and perfect, makes his appearance.

He licks his lips.

A simple gesture.

A common gesture.

And yet he is able to ignite my body as if he had just thrown a can of gasoline on the fire.

"Do you think he has some powerful ally behind him?" I ask continuing to stare undaunted at his wonderful lips.

"Nah.But I believe that by bringing America and Wakanda to their knees, he expects some proposals from some other Nation.He wants to show off his skills and then accept the most tempting proposal” Bucky replies.

"That actually makes sense" I murmur, returning my attention to the landscape.

Bucky slows to a stop, parking the car behind some large hedges on a dirt road.

"What are you doing?This is not the right place” I ask confused turning to my boyfriend.

Bucky watches me, the clear eyes moonlit seem to be made of ice.

He stares at me hungry.

“Really Buck?We are on a mission for heaven's sake" I exclaim amused.

“Oh doll!Don't play with me…I saw how you looked at me earlier”

I bite my lower lip.

“James we are on a mission.It is neither the place nor the moment” I intimate pulling me back while he with his immense body occupies all my vital space.

He leans over me and gives me a kiss on the edge of my lips.

“You have a dirty mind doll…I just want to kiss you.Nothing more” he murmurs an inch from my lips.

His warm and fragrant breath breaks on my face making me lose the sense of reason.

I stay still as he leans down on me again and kisses me.

But this time I feel his tongue caressing my lips which automatically open to allow him to enter my mouth.

Our tongues collide, caressing each other softly.

Both engaged in a sensual dance, they intertwine and seek each other.

My hands tighten around his necklace and I draw him to me.

His big body presses on mine pushing me against the car door.

His hands caress my hips and then rest on my back.

We keep making out like two kids.

Bucky's lips run down my neck, his beard pinches and abrades my skin.

I moan softly.

A sweet moan.

"I love you Sergeant"

"I love you too doll" he whispers in my ear.

He now brings his hands to my face and stands still to observe me.

His eyes move all over my face, as if studying every single detail.

As if he wanted to imprint my image like a brand in his head.

"You are beautiful Amaya"

His is a simple compliment and yet my heart starts beating furiously in my chest.

I wrap my arms around his neck and draw him back to me.

"Are you blushing?" he teases me by making fun of me.

I don't answer him and I sink my face into his warm and welcoming chest, I hear his laughter vibrate through it ringing in my ears like a choir of angels.

I hit him softly.

"Don't gloat" I tell him, smiling embarrassed.

Bucky laughs louder as he pulls away from me.

He straightens up, adjusts the crotch of his trousers and after giving me another kiss that makes my head spin, he starts the engine and starts again.

"Uncomfortable?" I point to the crotch of his trousers with a nod of my head.

One corner of Bucky's lips lifts up.

"Don't be funny Snow or I'll stop the car and this time you won't stop me"

"Drive and shut up Barnes"

I look at his profile while he laughs amused.

After about twenty minutes of travel I begin to glimpse an old warehouse in the distance.

"Is that it?" I ask, pressing my nose against the window.

"Yes.We have arrived” announces Bucky, parking about ten meters before hiding the SUV behind some small buildings.

We get out of the car and, scanning the darkness, we stealthily walk towards our destination.

We approach the building and after climbing a pile of some old pallets I peek through one of the many windows.

“There seems to be nobody there” I whisper as I feel Bucky's hands tighten around my waist to help me get off.

"Thank you" I murmur, giving him a kiss.

Sam's voice makes my heart jump.

“Do you want to stop flirting all the time?You are on a mission”

Redwing is flying over our heads.

Bucky tries to hit the drone with his hand.

"Hey leave my baby" Sam exclaims, his voice coming out loud and clear from the speaker of the drone.

“Do you want to stop screaming?You'll get us killed” I speak to Sam's stupid toy.

"Don't worry, there is no one within miles.Go inside.I will show you the exact points where to install the bugs”

Once inside we work quickly and with precision.

Thanks to Sam's help, we installed the bugs with ease.

“Ok audio and video work perfectly.You can come back” Sam informs us.

“Oh and take Redwing with you too.He has been flying for many hours, I'd rather not overdo it” adds our friend.

"What is Wilson, are you afraid that your little bird might misfire?" Bucky teases Sam.

I can't help it and I burst out laughing.

“Funny Barnes.Very funny.And for your information Falcon never misfired.Just ask Amaya” he exclaims seriously.

"Amaya honey tell him the true" insists Sam making me laugh again.

"Watch out Wilson or Redwing could mysteriously get damaged on the way back" Bucky threatens.

The two men jokingly argue for a few more minutes and then we get in the car and go back to the great tower in New York.

When we are almost halfway my phone rings.

It's Natasha.

"Hey Nat, are you okay?"

"Yes.Everything went smoothly.Thanks to Scott we learned that Rumlow is out of town on a mission so Steve and I had no particular difficulty breaking into his apartment.You have finished?" she asks me.

"We are already back" I reply.

"Great!See you again at the tower”

We say goodbye and I hang up.

As soon as we return we find almost everyone in the large conference room.

I walk up to Sam hitting him in the shoulder with a punch.

He laughs.

Bucky looks at him as if he wants to kill him and he stops next to Steve.

“I like to tease your boyfriend” Sam whispers to me.

"I likes it too when you do it" I reply smiling amused.

Sam laughs throwing his head back as he puts his arm around my shoulders.

Tony and Lucas make their entrance, they are chatting quietly.

“Hey kid welcome back.Everything went fine?"

“Yep”

“Perfect!But now comes the hardest part.The wait.Rumlow will be away for two days so we have to wait for him to come back and try to find out when his next meeting with Pierce will be” Tony explains.

"Exactly!And in the meantime, by taking turns we will monitor the warehouse” adds Lucas, rolling the sleeves of his shirt around his muscular and defined forearms, his pale skin is smooth and furrowed with bluish veins.

"So what do you do now?" Sam asks continuing to hold me close to him.

"What do you say if you take your hands off my girlfriend to begin?" Bucky asks raising an eyebrow.

Sam ignores him on purpose.

I laugh.

I really enjoy teasing him too much.

"I'm hungry" I exclaim.

"Will you join me Sam?" I ask turning to him and leaving him a kiss on his silky smooth cheek.

"Oh baby, whatever you want" he replies, alluding to something else.

"Ok!Enough!" Bucky exclaims striding closer and after throwing a fiery glance at Sam he grabs me by the waist and loads me on his shoulder.

“Bucky!Put me down!Immediately” I scream, hitting him several times in the back.

We leave the room followed by the laughter of all present.

"Bucky!" I cry out again.

In response, he slaps me on the ass, so hard that it makes me whimper in pain.

"Shut up" he hisses.

I resign myself and sighing I let myself be transported to my room.

Once inside he dumps me on the bed unceremoniously, I bounce a couple of times like I'm a rag doll.

Bucky stands in front of me looking at me with his wonderful icy eyes.

I just lift myself up on my elbows.

"I'm hungry" I say simply.

Bucky still doesn't answer me.

He looks at me.

His expression is illegible.

"I'm hungry" I repeat petulantly.

"I don't give a fuck" the simple answer of him.

For a moment I remain stunned but then I smile.

“But I tell you I'm hungry” I add challenging him.

Bucky walks up to me and kneels on the bed making space between my legs.

I try to push him away but he grabs my wrists locking them in the grip of one hand, then lifts them up on my head until he locks them above it.

Keeping my hands locked against the mattress he uses one knee to spread my thighs wide enough so that he can settle comfortably.

Despite his clear intentions and my accelerated breathing I continue undeterred in my intent to annoy him.

"I'm hungry" I repeat again.

Bucky smiles but it's not a sweet or amused smile, it's a smile that gives me goosebumps.

A rather diabolical light shines in his eyes.

I am sure he will make me regret my insolence.

"Don't worry doll, soon your mouth will be full"

I ignite at his words.

I wriggle under his body, arching in search of contact.

His mouth rests on my neck, kissing and biting my tender flesh.

I try to hold back the moans that cry out for release, I don't want to give him the satisfaction he seeks.

I try to think of something else and while his free hand massages my thigh I stammer "I am still hungry"

Suddenly my wrists are free and the hand that was holding them closes around my neck.

I feel the gentle pressure of his fingers on my trachea.

I tremble as I wait for his grip to intensify.

The hand that was on my thigh moves towards the waistband of my leggings and tears them with a dry and decisive tug.

His hand in Vibranium now only meets my hot skin and in no time at all it finds an even hotter spot.

Bucky directly uses two fingers to penetrate me and I arch in ecstasy.

His fingers crash into me with fury, his thumb teases my clit, while his hand around my throat tightens even more leaving me prey to uncontrolled moans.

The lack of oxygen makes my head light and all the pleasure is amplified even more.

Bucky lowers his face until I feel his warm breath close to my ear.

"Do you remember your safeword?" he asks me in a whisper.

I nod vigorously.

Bucky lifts his face, planting his eyes in mine.

His fingers continue to mercilessly torture me, they take me almost to the limit but never make me go further.

He slips his fingers from my body and lies down beside me letting go of my neck.

I remain panting and half undressed.

I watch him position himself comfortably on the bed, his back resting on the headboard and his legs wide apart.

He gestures to me with his finger, ordering me to come closer to him.

I roll onto my stomach and I crawl up to him placing me between his legs.

While he looks me in the eyes Bucky grabs the belt of his jeans and opens it, then lowers the zip and pulling aside the boxers as soon as he grabs his throbbing erection in his hands.

“Here's your dinner” he invites me with a mischievous look.

He doesn't have to repeat it twice, I moving his hands away from his dick and I grab it bringing it to my lips.

With the tip of my tongue I tease his tip, red and angry.

Then I leave a light kiss on it.

It vibrates as if it responds to my every touch.

I use my free hand to climb up his abdomen to enjoy the touch of his muscles.

He keeps his arms crossed behind his head, rather than looking like he is about to receive a blowjob, he looks like someone who wants to enjoy some relaxation by the sea.

"I'm waiting doll" Bucky's voice brings me back to reality, I blink a couple of times and focus my attention on the erection I'm holding in my hands.

I open my mouth to welcome him and moan with pleasure.

I move my hand up and down following the rhythm with my head, more the speed increases and more I feel my clit throbbing in search of relief.

My orgasm is ready to explode but apparently Bucky does not intend to help me so I move my free hand down to bring it between my legs.

"Don't you dare" gasps Bucky grabbing me by my hair making my head tilt backwards violently.

“You can't touch yourself.You can't please yourself.You understood?" he hisses pulling my hair a little harder.

"Yes sir" I whimper.

Bucky pushes my head down again, his hips meet my movements.

He's fucking my mouth like everything else about me is superfluous, like I'm just an object for his mere pleasure.

I know what he is doing.

He is punishing me.

He denies me the pleasure by taking only what matters to him.

And I let him do it.

I let myself be used.

And instead of feeling humiliated, his attitude does nothing but make me fall in love with him more and more.

Bucky cums in my mouth, continuing to push until he empties completely.

His hands keep my head pressed against him without even giving me time to take a breath, forcing me to swallow his cum all in one breath.

I gasp in search of air and finally after what seems like an eternity he lets me go and I can finally catch my breath.

Bucky stands up and I am confused by his actions.

He adjusts his pants and heads for the door.

I sit down quickly on the bed, out of breath and with my head spinning.

"Where are you going?"

He looks at me like I'm crazy.

"I'm going to get you something to eat" he replies quietly, getting closer and closer to the door.

"But I...but I want my orgasm" I beg him in a pathetic tone.

His smile widens.

"Not tonight doll"

"What?!?!?" I exclaim with my eyes bulging.

Bucky puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Sorry Amaya.Maybe next time you'll think twice about flirting with other men”

His gaze is serious.

I know perfectly well that he isn't joking.

Well I won't be left behind either.

"Perfect will mean I'll do it alone"

Bucky's head jerks in my direction, his eyes wide open and incredulous.

"You wouldn't dare..."

"Don't tempt me Barnes"

I approach my fingers to my panties, brush my clit above the thin fabric.

I moan loudly.

"Amaya"

His gritted warning sends a rush of shivers down my spine.

So I make myself more confident than I have ever been and spreading my legs as wide as I can in front of his amazed eyes, I push my panties aside and insert two fingers inside my pussy.

I arch my back moaning.

I try to keep my eyes on Bucky's.

Meanwhile I slide my fingers in and out, teasing that point inside me that drives me so crazy.

I bring my free hand under my shirt making it go up until I reach the breast.

I squeeze one by gently pulling a nipple.

I roll my eyes closing them in ecstasy and when I open them again Bucky is closer than I expected.

He violently tears my hand from my warm core and tugging at my ankles pulls me to the edge of the bed.

After a few moments his mouth is on my pussy, he is devouring it with enthusiasm.

I dip my hands into his hair while he tears off the last shreds of the leggings I'm wearing, taking away my panties too.

As he continues to lick me he fumbles with his pants just enough to free the entire length of him.

He lifts himself up from the center of my legs and in an instant his mouth is replaced by his massive dick.

He presses on my body, his hands hold my knees holding them pressed against the mattress.

I feel the muscles in my thighs burn but I don't care, in response to the pain I stick my nails into his wide back under his t-shirt.

Bucky buries his face in my neck and his moans ring deafening in my ears.

We fuck like animals, biting and scratching.

There is no reason in this embrace, only instinct.

It is not love.

It is not sex.

It's just pure mating, a primal instinct that drives us to possess ourselves with rampage.

The room is filled with screams, groans and dirty words.

When we cum we don't even have the strength to move.

Bucky stands still inside me breathing deeply.

When I find my voice I just whisper "But I'm still hungry"

Bucky bursts out laughing and gets up from my body.

We are both sweaty, his hair is literally wet.

He is a heavenly vision.

"I'm going to see what I find in the kitchen" he gasps trying to fix himself to make himself at least presentable.

Before he open the door, I call him.

"Bucky?"

"What's up?"

"I love you" I whisper to him with a big smile.

He approaches the bed again, kisses my forehead and softly whispering "I love you too"

Then he goes away leaving me alone and stunned.

It takes me a few minutes to find the strength to get up.

Once I'm on my feet I take off my last clothes and head for the shower.

I wash away the sweat and the cool water soothes my glowing and battered skin from Bucky's lips.

As I rinse my hair I hear the bedroom door open, Bucky's voice comes to me muffled.

“I'm in the shower” I yell to make myself heard.

Bucky walks into the bathroom holding up a plate with two attractive sandwiches.

His eyes glow at the sight of my naked, wet body.

He puts the plate on the counter next to the sink and takes off his shirt and throws it on the floor.

When he is close enough, I grab him by the necklace and draw him to me, still half dressed, under the jet of water.

We both giggle like idiots as our lips search for each other.

I think my dinner will still have to wait.

Bucky POV

I yawn stretching my back.

Amaya looks at me with sweet eyes.

“Go get some rest, Bucky.I'll take care of it here”

“Don't worry doll.I just need a coffee.Do you want one?"

"No thanks" she replies and she returns her attention to the monitors in front of her eyes.

I head to the kitchen and start making coffee.

I check my watch and sigh, it's 4:00 in the morning.

Finally, our surveillance shift will be over in two hours.

While I am lost in my thoughts I feel a presence behind me.

Agent Scott walks into the kitchen, disheveled hair and sleepy eyes.

“Are you all right Scott?What are you doing awake at this time?"

He yawns and I hand him a steaming cup of coffee.

“Thanks Barnes.I slept badly, in the end I preferred to get up” he replies.

He sips his coffee with his eyes closed.

I'm not saying we're friends now but we've learned to get along also because Lucas now practically lives at the tower.

Between work and free time we often spend time together.

He is not a bad guy, he is kind and intelligent.

Dedicated to his work.

If it weren't for that little detail.

We both love the same woman.

"Do you want to join us?Amaya and I are on duty”

Lucas shrugs.

“Anyway I won't sleep anymore.Let's go”

We walk together in the corridor until we reach Amaya.

I find her in the same position in which I left.

"Good morning" Lucas greets her.

Amaya jerks her head up.

“Good morning Lucas.Trouble sleeping?" she asks politely.

"Yep" he exclaims and then takes another generous sip of coffee.

"News?" Lucas asks, positioning himself behind Amaya and gluing his eyes to the screen.

"No.It's frustrating” Amaya snorts with her usual adorable pout.

Lucas observes her with a very sweet smile on his lips, being behind her she cannot see him but I do.

And he seems to realize it because immediately his gaze returns to the images that scroll on the screen.

We spend the next hour in more or less the same way.

Looking at the various screens and exchanging just a few words.

Then suddenly Lucas's phone rings.

He takes it out of his trouser pocket and checks the screen.

"It's Maria Hill" he murmurs.

"Put the speaker on" suggests Amaya.

"Tell me everything Maria" answers Lucas.

"Our friend made the mistake number two" Hill begins.

“We are all ears” Amaya replies.

“Hey bitch!Are you there too?"

Amaya laughs heartily.

"C'mon tell us what you discovered" Amaya urges her to continue.

“We intercepted a phone call from Pierce.He called from a public phone in Queens”

“Please tell me he was talking to that bastard of Rumlow” I ask hopefully.

"Oh!Sergeant Barnes…you are there too…anyway to answer your question yes, he talked to Rumlow”

We all look into each other's eyes as Maria continues.

"They talked for a few minutes and then made an appointment for tomorrow night"

"Can you send me the recording of the call?" Lucas asks her.

"Sure.I'm already sending it to your email"

"Thanks Maria.Be ready.Prepares as many agents as you can and warns Agent Carter, I want her on the team too.We will now come up with a plan and later we will let you know everything in detail” Amaya tells her enthusiastically.

She looks really high.

"Ok.See you later” and with this Maria Hill hangs up.

I look at Amaya with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" she asks me visibly confused.

"Sharon?"

"Sure.She is a very good agent.I trust her”

I smile.

I am happy that she and Sharon have found a meeting point.

Despite everything that has happened between them, I know how much Amaya values her and the whole Carter family.

"Friday?"

"Tell me Agent Snow"

"Please wake up Mr. Stark, Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers, Sam Wilson and His Majesty T’Challa right away.Tell everyone to go to the conference room in half an hour.Tell them it's a matter of utmost urgency”

“It'll be made right away Agent Snow” Friday's voice replies.

"I received the audio of the phone call.Do you want to listen before the others arrive?" Lucas asks us.

I look at Amaya, I will leave the choice to her.

"Yes.Let's listen to it so we can start getting an idea"

Lucas turns up the PC volume to the maximum and starts the audio playback.

"Hello?" Rumlow's voice resounds throughout the room.

“The two scientists are ready.Tomorrow night at 10:00 we can meet at the old warehouse” replies what should be Pierce.

His voice is hollow, very deep.

"Perfect.Great job Harry.America will be soon a better place"

"I hope so my friend.See you tomorrow night” Pierce greets and then hangs up.

"I can't believe it.We have them in our hands” Amaya exclaims.

Half an hour later the others begin to arrive.

The first to arrive is T’Challa, he approaches me giving me a pat on the shoulder.

“Tell me you have some good news” he asks me.

"Oh my friend trust me when I tell you that they are more than beautiful"

We smile at each other.

Natasha enters the room yawning loudly.

"I hope this will be really important Snow" she murmurs as she follows Steve and together they go to sit at the big table.

Steve puts his arm around her shoulders and kisses her forehead.

Amaya winks at her.

Sam enters without saying a word, shuffling his feet listlessly.

I giggle in amusement because I know how much he hates waking up so early in the morning.

Lastly, Tony joins us.

“Kid I'm going to have a headache all day because of you.I need my time.I hope it's worth it at least” Tony tells her as he sips his hot black coffee.

“I'm sorry I woke you up grandpa but I assure you you won't regret it.Listen”

Amaya nods and Lucas restarts the recording of the call between Pierce and Rumlow.

"Are they?" Sam asks starting to fuel.

“Yep.They are Pierce and Rumlow.We have a little over twenty-four hours to come up with a foolproof plan” Amaya begins with her eyes sparkling.

"You already have something in mind, isn't that so kid?" Tony asks her.

"More or less" she replies evasively.

Tony looks at her smiling.

“Mine is not a defined plan yet so I accept any suggestions from all of you.Remember that we have only one attempt and we cannot fail" Amaya begins to explain, attracting everyone's attention.

“Tony and Sam you could fly over the area monitoring the situation in real time.To always keep us updated.Steve and Nat you will have to coordinate the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the STRIKE team who will rush to the scene and who in turn will be captained by Agent Hill and Agent Carter.Me, Bucky and Lucas will go inside trying to surround Pierce, Rumlow and these mysterious scientists.We will put them on the spot and then you can intervene" Amaya stops to turn to T’Challa.

“Your Majesty, I cannot vouch for your safety.The mission will be dangerous, useless to deny it, and when the bullets fly I cannot assure you that I will be able to protect you.So I leave the choice to you.You can do whatever you want.You can join Steve and the men from S.H.I.E.L.D. or you can go inside with us.The choice is yours"

T’Challa thinks about it for a moment.

"Steve, if it's not a problem for you I would like to join your team" says the King, turning to my best friend.

"Sure" Steve replies with a big smile.

Amaya sighs in relief.

"Good choice.Between Steve, Natasha and all the best agents we have you will be safe"

T’Challa makes a small bow with his head and Amaya smiles at him.

“So suggestions?Does anyone have any questions or changes to propose?” Amaya asks, addressing everyone present.

"Great plan kid, really great plan" Tony replies with a wink.

"The meeting is at 10:00 PM, we will have to take a stand at least an hour before.Do you agree?" Amaya asks.

“It's perfect Amaya” compliments Steve.

“Lucas and Bucky gave me some tips.It's not all my doing” she stammers embarrassed.

My little robin is always so modest.

We all get together to discuss the final details in anticipation of the big moment.

Those two bastards are scheduled to arrive at 10:00 PM so we decided to go to the warehouse an hour early.

Each of us is already at his own station.

I check my watch, in just over half an hour we could put an end to this whole story.

And maybe I could find the courage to talk to Amaya.

I look at her and a sigh escapes my lips.

Crouched in the night, her long red hair tied in a soft braid and the black leather suit that caresses every curve of her indecently.

She has a gun in her hand and some knives tied to her thighs.

She is sexy and lethal.

She is talking to Lucas, I have no idea what they are saying but she smiles at him and he melts like snow in the sun.

He looks at her adoringly whenever she is distracted.

I feel slightly stressed.

One good thing about the end of this case would be Scott's return to Washington.

He is a good guy and I can even get along with him but the way he looks at Amaya sends me to the asylum.

And honestly I'm afraid that in time Amaya may begin to feel something for him.

As if she knows exactly what I'm thinking she squeeze Lucas' arm and she joins me.

"Are you okay James?"

"Yes"

"James?"

"Mmh"

"What's wrong?" she asks me placing her little hands on my chest.

"If I tell you I run the risk that you may be mad at me" I answer with sincerity.

"Oh c’mon!I swear I won't” she replies, laughing.

I speak without looking into her eyes.

"I can't wait for all this to end so Agent Perfection can return to Washington"

"I thought you were starting to like Lucas"

"That's exactly the problem.The more I know him, the more I realize that he is the right man for you"

I keep looking away from her.

I've never told her these things.

In the last few days in close contact with him, I realized how much I cannot be the man for her and that Lucas will be able to take care of her once I have broken her heart.

"Oh James..." Amaya tries to say something but she is interrupted by Lucas.

"Hey come and look here” he calls us in a low voice waving his hand to join him.

I grab Amaya's face in my hands and give her a kiss.

“Whatever happens, you have to know that I love you.And I will always do”

I give her another kiss and walk away from her without even giving her time to answer me.

I reach Lucas and direct my gaze to the same point where he is looking, after a few seconds Amaya also reaches us, positioning herself next to me.

From the back door of the warehouse Rumlow just walked in.

"Did you guys see?" Tony's voice rings in my earpiece.

"Yes we are seeing" replies Amaya.

We all wear a earpiece so that we can stay in contact with each other by covering our backs.

"Is he alone?" Lucas asks.

"Yes, he came alone" replies Sam.

We remain silent to observe Rumlow who, entering with a firm step, goes to an old chair and takes a seat.

He seems calm, relaxed.

I would say he is almost satisfied.

Arrogant son of a bitch.

I feel my hands itch, the desire to break in and smash his face with my fists is great.

After about ten minutes Steve's voice rings in my ears.

“Pierce just showed up.There are two other men with him"

"Ok.Let's keep in position.Let them talk, we need their confession on tape.Then we could intervene" reminds us T’Challa.

Rumlow and Pierce say hello while the other two men stay behind, they must be the two scientists.

One is tall and slouchy, wears thick glasses, while the other is much shorter and has a mean look.

Me, Amaya and Lucas are the only ones in the warehouse so we have to pay close attention to what they say so that we can intervene at the right time.

"Hey Harry!"

"Hi Brock"

Their voices ring out loud in the empty warehouse.

“I want to introduce you Dr. Michaelson and Dr. Hunter.They will be able to operate with Stark's technology” Pierce introduces the men with him.

Brock approaches shaking hands with both of them.

“It's a pleasure gentlemen”

“The pleasure is our Captain Rumlow.It will be an honor to contribute to the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D." one of the two scientists, the shorter one, replies.

"Son of a bitch" I exclaim between my teeth without being able to restrain myself.

Amaya wraps her hand around my arm to try to calm me down.

The four men move towards one of the trucks when Rumlow sends them to follow him.

"This way gentlemen" Rumlow invites them, opening the tailgate of one of the two trucks.

“This is what you will work on.Pierce vouched for you by making sure you are the best and have the right skills to rework Stark's technology to make it less obsolete plus you have the right skills to be able to shape Vibranium”

Both men of science look into each other's eyes smiling.

"We will only be able to do this if our compensation is fair" replies the tallest man, Dr. Michaelson.

"Sure, you will have what we agreed"

The smile on their faces widens out of all proportion.

They keep talking, revealing more and more details.

“We will continue to work in Boston.I think it's safer and then all of our gear and our men are there.Moving everything and everyone would be too conspicuous"

Rumlow nods at Dr. Hunter's words.

"Stay where you are, better not risk it" says Pierce right.

“Tomorrow morning about ten vans will come here to load all the material and then we will burn this place.We have to erase all traces" Rumlow explains with a big smile.

“Ok, here we go!Prepare the agents.Surround every exit.We are about to take action.Wait for the agreed signal to break in” Amaya announces.

"Copy that kid" Stark replies.

"Roger" echoes Nat.

We all three look into each other's eyes and nod.

“I have your back.Go ahead” I tell to Amaya and Scott.

Amaya nods and after exchanging a knowing look with Lucas they step forward.

“Raise your hands up, very slowly.You are surrounded” Amaya announces aloud.

The heads of the four criminals whirl in our direction.

Rumlow looks incredulous for a moment then immediately recovers holding the gun.

Pierce imitates him.

The doctors are apparently unarmed so they just move around behind the two men who are now aiming their weapon at us.

"Amaya.Always a pleasure to see you again”

“Less fuss Brock.It's over for you” I reply irritated by the fact that he has the nerve to address Amaya with that sly smile on his lips.

"Oh oh you brought your boyfriends" laughs Rumlow amused toward Amaya.

I just stiffen but try not to give it importance.

I know what he is doing.

He wants us to lose our temper to take advantage of it.

Lucas loads his gun aiming it at Pierce's head.

Pierce returns the gesture.

"Rumlow you better listen to us, do what we tell you and no one will get hurt" Amaya speaks slowly.

"You know Snow, every time I flirt with you, I've only done it because I wanted you on my side in this"

Amaya is blown away by Rumlow's words, I can tell from the confused expression on her face.

Rumlow smiles and moves on.

“I wanted you by my side to lead together.Together we can destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. and found something entirely new.You are the perfect agent, who better than you for this role?Isn't true Agent Zero?"

Amaya's eyes widen in amazement.

Lucas looks at her in disbelief.

He didn't know she was Agent Zero.

“How…” Amaya stammers as her grip around her gun intensifies.

Pierce laughs and gets our attention.

"I told him.I was able to access some old files belonging to my uncle and I found out the truth about you” Pierce explains.

“Amaya your place is not with the Avengers.You are not a hero.Your true nature is obey and kill.And if you join me I will give you everything you want.You will have the power and you will be able to express your true being without fear of someone judging you”

Brock tries to persuade her.

Amaya shakes her head vigorously.

“Amaya don't listen to him.He just wants to fuck your mind.He's playing with you and your emotions” Lucas whispers.

Amaya seems to recover, she looks at Lucas and then she looks at me.

Her gaze is strong and determined.

“I know who I am.You are a monster.You let them slaughter all your men.I'm not like you, I'm not like that”

Rumlow laughs.

"Well but you should be used to monsters...since you fell in love with one of them"

Rumlow's eyes stop on mine.

He smiles at me.

"If you only had a shred of James's humanity you would be a gentleman" Amaya spits.

Meanwhile, the two scientists have approached with their backs to the wall, they don't even try to escape.

Either they know perfectly well they are screwed or they hope their benefactors can get them out of here safe and sound.

They just observe the scene from the sidelines.

Rumlow and Pierce are side by side.

Amaya takes a step forward immediately followed by Lucas, I just move a little to the right, positioning myself halfway between my teammates and the two bastards.

“Oh how sweet you are...and naive my beautiful Amaya” Rumlow replies as Pierce bursts into coarse laughter.

"And tell me Amaya, did your dear James ever tell you the truth about your parents?"

I feel like someone had just hit me on the head with a sheet of steel.

Stunned and trembling.

Amaya's arms fall to her sides.

"What the hell...what are you talking about?" Amaya hisses.

In her eyes the flames of hell burn.

"Barnes knows the identity of your parents' killer.Is that true James?Tell her”

Amaya turns her gaze to me.

"It's not true.Tell me it's not true…” she whispers.

Her eyes are pleading with me.

I open my mouth but no word comes out.

My throat is so dry it can't even make a sound.

“I was there when it happened” Rumlow begins to tell.

Now he has all of Amaya's attention.

"At the time I was working for Hydra.I worked alongside Alexander Pierce and the Winter Soldier.There were these two agents, husband and wife, a real pain in the ass.They were arresting dozens of our men and disrupting all of our plans.So one day we set up a fake recovery mission.When Maddie and Michael showed up, there was no prisoner to save.He was waiting for them" Rumlow points his finger at me.

Then he keeps talking.

“I'll leave out the details.You will be able to console yourself knowing that they did not suffer, your Sergeant reserved a quick and painless death for them”

Amaya turns to me.

"It is the truth?" she asks me.

Her eyes are dead, no emotion shines from them.

"Amaya I..."

"Just answer yes or no" she interrupts me abruptly.

I take a deep breath and with my heart heavy as a boulder I speak the words that will forever mark my destiny.

"Yes.Yes, I did it"

Lucas takes a few steps towards Amaya, he seems worried about her.

"Listen Snow you have a chance to kill your parents' killer and I'm not going to stop you.You can put a bullet in his head and get yourself justice once and for all” Rumlow urges her.

“Kill him and help us escape.I will not speak and if you want you can disappear or you can join me, together we can command.We can make the world a better place by eliminating everyone like Barnes”

Amaya Listen carefully to Rumlow's words.

"Amaya" I croak with a breath of voice.

Amaya in response points her gun at me.

“Amaya stop!Don't do it” Lucas tries to make her think.

Pierce's smile widens followed by Rumlow's.

“Do it Snow.Bullets fly...accidents happen.Nobody will ever know.You will never have such an opportunity again" Rumlow whispers, taking a step closer to her.

Lucas and I both aim the gun at his head.

“Take another step Rumlow and I swear to God I'll shoot you” Lucas yells.

“Guys what's going on?You are taking too long” Sam asks through the headset.

“Buck!Amaya!What happen?" Steve asks worriedly.

Amaya tears the earpiece out of her ear throwing it to the ground and turns her head towards Rumlow while continuing to keep her gun pointed at me.

“You're right Brock.An opportunity like this will never happen to me again”

So saying she loads her gun and a shot explodes.

I close my eyes waiting to die.

It all happens fast.

Nothing happens after the shot.

No pain.

Nothing.

Yet my ears register a scream.

Rumlow falls to the ground holding onto his shoulder.

Amaya explodes another shot hitting him in the hand and flying the gun he was holding.

Lucas hides behind a column and shoots in Pierce's direction, hitting him in the knee.

Immediately dozens of agents of the S.H.I.E.L.D. and some STRIKE burst in, led by Steve, Natasha and T’Challa.

Iron Man and Falcon glide from above.

Tony immediately approaches Amaya while Sam towers over the two scientists who, frightened by stray bullets, have crouched on the floor covering their heads with their hands.

I can't move.

I am still motionless in the same position as when Amaya fired the first bullet.

The first to notice me is Sharon.

She approaches me quickly.

"James are you okay?"

I can't answer her, I just keep staring at an undeciphered point in front of me.

"James?James can you hear me?"

Sharon squirms by my side and I hear her calling Steve.

“Steve run!Hurry up!"

Steve immediately turns his attention to Sharon as he strode closer, his gaze alarmed.

“Buck are you okay?Can you hear me?"

I look at him impassively, I would like to scream or at least nod but my body does not respond to me.

It's like my brain has disconnected from everything else.

“Pal you're scaring me!What happens?Are you hurt?"

Steve grabs me by the shoulders and just shakes me.

I just look at him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Lucas is approaching us.

“I think he's in shock.Get him out of here” Agent Scott explains.

"What the hell happened?" Steve asks.

Now in addition to the worry in his voice there is frustration.

Lucas shakes his head.

"Not now.Take him away”

“Go ahead Steve.I'll take care of all here” Sharon whispers with worried eyes.

While Steve drags me away, the only thing my brain can register is Amaya.

Amaya stands still as Tony tries to get her attention.

“Hey kid what's up?Talk to me”

Her face is pale, her lips gray.

For a moment our eyes touch.

Her eyes are glassy, absent, but as soon as they land on mine they fill with contempt.

She isn't crying, she doesn't look sad or desperate.

There is only hatred in her eyes.

And in this moment I realize that I have lost her forever.

"Let's go away" I murmur, my voice about to break.

"I need to get out of here" I plead my best friend.

Steve doesn't say a word, he just nods and pushing his way through a flood of people pushes me to his car.

On the way I see Rumlow and Pierce being handcuffed and loaded into an ambulance escorted by dozens of armed agents.

Agent Hill is shouting orders in every direction.

It is the chaos around us.

But nobody seems to notice that my world is falling apart.

I get into the car and Steve starts the engine.

I lean my head back closing my eyes.

"I did it" I whisper after I don't know how long.

I open my eyes and feel those damn tears roll down my eyes.

I turn to Steve, who has meanwhile pulled over to the side of the road.

He turns off the engine and turns in my direction.

"I did it" I repeat him.

It is as if a chasm had opened in the center of my chest that nothing and no one can ever close.

"What do you mean brother?" Steve asks cautiously.

I'm sure he's worried that I'm going crazy in the end.

“I killed them.I killed her parents”

Steve's eyes widen in amazement.

“Are you…are you sure?Maybe…”

I shake my head vigorously.

“It was me Steve.You know I remember each of them.I saw their photo in Amaya's room and it came back to my mind when I killed them”

Steve remains silent but in his sad and pitying eyes flow thousands of questions.

“Rumlow knew that.He said he worked alongside me in the days of Hydra.I have no memories of him but he obviously does.And he used this thing to try to pull Amaya over to his side”

I sink my face into my hands crying all the tears in my body.

Steve puts a hand on my back, rubbing it gently.

“You know it's not your fault.You were forced, you had no other choice.That man wasn't you Bucky"

I know he's trying to console me but all this only adds to my anger.

I walk away from his touch.

"Does it matter?It was me.I kept it hidden from her.And now she hates me and I have lost her forever"

I feel suffocated, I try to breathe but the air does not reach my lungs.

"I don't...I don't..."

I can't breathe.

I can't talk.

I feel my chest tighten in a vise as sweat beading on my forehead.

I feel the panic overwhelm me.

“Breathe with me Buck.Follow me”

Steve encourages me by grabbing my shoulders and looking for my gaze.

I fix my eyes on him, the same eyes that have accompanied me all my life.

Steve is my only lifeline in this life of shit that's choking me.

If it weren't for him I would have gone to the bottom already.

Breath in and breath out.

Breath in and breath out.

Breath in and breath out.

It works.

Slowly I begin to breathe normally, following the rhythm of the chest of the man in front of me I find the ability to breathe independently.

Steve's phone rings, he tries to ignore it but I push him to answer.

"Tell me Nat"

I had to guess it was her.

I would like to take the phone out of his hands and ask at my friend how Amaya is doing.

What is she doing?

But I clench my fists and bite the inside of my cheek until I feel the taste of my own blood running on my tongue.

"Ok.Here we come” Steve hangs up and sighs heavily.

“We have to go back to the tower.We have to wait for Fury to report"

He looks at me as if he is afraid that at any moment I might disappear.

“If you don't feel like it, I can make up an excuse.I'll cover you”

Oh Steve!

He has always been too good to me.

Always ready to forgive my every mistake and protect me from the world.

“You don't need my friend.Thanks"

"Are you sure?"

No.

I'm not sure.

I'm not ready.

But I have to do it.

I have to go back and finish my job.

I have to go back and face Amaya as a man.

"Yes.Let's go”

I feel destroyed and closing my eyes I await the fulfillment of my destiny.

I wish this was all just a bad dream but I know perfectly well that it is just my fucking reality.

Life is presenting me with the bill for all the sins I have committed.

And it is doing it with all the  interests.

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@deansapplepie

[ecto-american]

Hello! If your taking prompts, could you do one where Danny both loses his memory about his family and friends and gets brainwashed by the guys in white that he's a full ghost, then released back into amity park with some faint idea of some connection, but not sure what. Thank you!

I take prompts within reason

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The dust began to fully settle, and the agent squinted through the mask. He tried to pick out that familiar form in the dust, that was trying to fly away as it always did. Escaping justice, but he saw nothing as smoke began to cloud the skies.

“There!” his partner cried out, and he pointed to a limp figure. The ghost they had been hunting, the town menace that began all of this, laid over a bit of rubble, motionless. 

The agent kicked up dust of his own, scrambling to get to the ghost. He could hear his partner following suit, and they rushed towards a ghost that made absolutely no movements. They both, nearly in unison, skidded to a halt right before they could touch him. A flash of light had interrupted their actions. Hearts racing, they watched as this light blinded both of them. By the time it faded, almost as quickly as it had come, they were left looking at...a boy. 

Neither made any movements to do anything, and Phantom (?) made no movements either. The agent hesitantly reached out to grab a handful of black hair that was slowly becoming caked in blood, so very different than the white hair of their target. He lifted his head up, bending over a bit to get a look at the face. The resemblance to Phantom was arguable. Paler, but if given a good hair bleaching, this could be Phantom.

Slowly, his other hand lightly patted the boy’s cheek. Bright green eyes opened halfway, staring up at him in confusion. Unmistakable green eyes that glowed like a ghost’s, like Phantom. They dropped closed, only to snap open once more. Bright blue eyes, looking more like a pair he’d see on a fellow agent, were now looking at him. Confused, scared, dazed. 

“Sir, did you see that?” his partner’s voice was audible. The boy’s eyes closed fully once more. The agent spared a glance at the other agent. He was nodding with one hand pressed to his headset, listening to what their boss was telling him. “Yes, sir...Right away, sir...No, sir...We’ll be there shortly, sir.” He gestured to the teenager. “Pack him up. The boss wants to bring him in for questioning.”

The agent carefully let go of the hair. The boy’s head hung still, and the only audible noise from him was pained, labored breathing. His partner had gone to fetch their vehicle while he stood guard. And before anybody seemed to notice, before most of Amity Park could truly recover from the attack, they had loaded up the mysterious teenager and were already gone.

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His name was Daniel James Fenton. A background check revealed that he was a seventeen year old student at Casper High. The youngest in a family of four, son of Madeline Anne Walker and Jack Harrison Fenton and a brother to Jasmine Elizabeth Fenton. 

He had no criminal record that they could find, though he reportedly got into trouble often at school. Minor things, mostly tardiness and poor grades. A few fights and one instance of pulling a fire alarm. Nothing comparable to the criminal rap sheet of Danny Phantom.

It was the longest rap sheet any agent had seen, literally pages and pages long. Thousands of charges for attempted murder, attempted arson, arson, attempted kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, and more. Their file on Phantom was surprisingly long, but it was a file that had been compiled over the years by the observant eyes of a select few agents who had studied footage and that elusive ghost for years. 

But that flash of light changed everything they thought they knew about Danny Phantom. An entire file that had blanks had odd answers that filled in. However, those answers couldn’t come from Phantom.

“So am I supposed to just believe that you happen to not remember anything about who you are?” Agent B voiced his skepticism to the teenager who had since been changed into a GIW prisoner’s uniform, a pure white loose jumpsuit accompanied by a standard anti-ghost collar around the neck and wrists. 

This teen, nobody knew what or how to refer to him at this point, just stared at him with wide, scared eyes. He shifted in his seat, leaning his elbows on the wooden table that separate them, moving his hands a bit as he spoke.

“I-I don’t know what you want from me?” he croaked. He sniffled a bit, and he almost looked like he might cry. Agent B had to admit that the kid seemed to be a good actor, but it was bullshit. He wasn’t fully sure of this situation, but Phantom was always a sly and manipulative ghost. Always one step ahead. Not this time. “I told you what I know.”

“No, you haven’t,” Agent B spoke harshly. “Who are you, and what are you doing in Amity Park?”

“I don’t know who I am!” the teen exclaimed. “I can barely remember what Amity Park is! I think I live there? Or...like family lives there? But I don’t know their names.”

“You’re lying to me,” Agent B accused him. The waterworks truly began, but that never worked on Agent B. It was hard to really feel sorry for a ghost that hurt so many people through selfish actions. 

“No, I’m not!” The teen put up a pathetic act. The tears were actually a good sign, in Agent B’s opinion. It meant that the ghost was possibly at their breaking point. “Don’t I get a phone call? I’m supposed to have the right to a lawyer too.”

Agent B stared coldly at him.

“No. Those rights don’t apply to ghosts.”

He stared at the agent, absolutely shocked at that statement. He said nothing, and Agent B stood up. 

“Take him back,” Agent B ordered. “Let’s give him another few days in solitary.”

The teen didn’t even utter a word as he was escorted out. Soon as he left, a woman slipped into the room. Unlike the other agents, she wasn’t in a suit, but rather a plan white t-shirt and white jeans, with black shoes and a white lab coat. 

“Anything?” she asked. Agent B shook his head. “You know, amnesia can last months, even years.” Agent B knew that look in her eye, exactly what she was leading up to asking him.

“If he doesn’t remember anything by Friday, you can have him Monday for experiments,” he promised her.

Her eyes shined happily.

“You have no idea what kind of scientific discoveries that boy has hidden in him,” she told him. Agent B simply shrugged. 

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“Release him?” the scientist looked crestfallen at the news. “But there’s so much more to discover, so many more experiments, he has so much information he could tell us!”

“We can’t afford to keep him in custody much longer,” Agent B told her firmly. “People are starting to question where Phantom is. Of course, Fenton too. It won’t take long before people become suspicious and begin to investigate.”

The scientist frowned. In the six months of captivity, she had learned so much. Phantom was this odd human-ghost hybrid. How this happened, she nor her team could determine, other than that this was a recent event and not a natural state for him. The ghost’s continued lack of memory could provide little clues. She had been hoping to spark his memory, in the pursuit of getting some possible hints or theories. But she’d only get a blank stare.

“He’ll say something,” she argued. “Reveal everything. I know, legally, we didn’t violate any laws or anything. He’s a ghost. But that town thinks he’s a hero. It’ll cause a media outrage.”

“I know,” Agent B replied with a sigh. “We may just put him down and keep a close eye on him to ensure his memory doesn’t return, but it also may not really matter. It’s very doubtful that he told anybody about this. He couldn’t have, especially his parents. Had his parents known, well...you know the Fentons. They’d have experimented on him themselves. Fenton will eventually be classified as a runaway. But Phantom’s too well known to disappear forever.”

“We can’t kill him,” she told him almost immediately. “I want to do more experiments later. Everything will change if he dies fully. There’s just too much more to learn.

And that look in her eye returned as she gave him a hopeful smile. Agent B raised an eyebrow at her. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

“He’s already lost so much of his memory,” she began. “What if he...just simply forgot that he had a human half?”

The agent paused as he thought carefully.

“Let’s discuss it with the higher ups, and see how they feel,” he replied. 

Their request was granted. 

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Phantom stared nervously at the agents that watched him with suspicious eyes. He took a few cautious steps forward in fluffy snow. More was falling thickly, gathering quickly on the ground and on the trees of the woods that they had brought him too. The ghost glanced around, before turning to look at the agents. 

They didn’t stop him. They made no movements to draw their weapons. The pair just...watched.

He took this chance, and he shot off into the sky, as fast as he could. No sounds of blasters firing after him, no shouting, only silence and agents that blended into the snow. While his memories of his experience were limited, they were horrifying, and yet they simply let him...leave.

Whatever. He wasn’t going to question that much, but he was already asking himself where he was supposed to...go.

Phantom tried to grasp for his memories for anything of use. Anything that didn’t involve his time there, that could be a place he could go to, a person he could find. What he could remember was so shaky at best. 

He saw a town in the distance, the city lights glowing faintly despite the heavy snowfall. Perhaps figuring out where he was, what the date was, was a good start.

123456789

There was something wrong with stealing, he absolutely knew that much. But he, of course as a ghost, had no money, and he also knew that he couldn’t walk anywhere without drawing attention. So with a heavy heart, he stole a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and a beanie hat from a department store before walking along the streets.

Judging by all the signs of the city and what he could find, he was in a town called Lakewood, within Washington state. Phantom didn’t know how he knew, but he knew that this was not where he was from, and that he was very, very far from where he was meant to be. 

He now stood in a gas station, trying to figure out what candy he was going to, sadly, end up stealing. Phantom hated it, hated it, hated it. But maybe he just needed to eat something, to jog his memory, to understand what he had to do. There was something in his gut, telling him that he was missing something, something critical and important about him. 

His attention went to a display of free brochures, and he absentmindedly read through them. One caught his eye. 

Amity Park: America’s Most Haunted City! Visit Today!

The headline hit him in the gut. Despite ghosts not needing to breathe, he grabbed the brochure, ripping it open to immediately see his own face staring back at him. One of the town’s main attractions, the famous ghostly superhero Danny Phantom. 

Amity Park was his home. The memories of saving the town flooded him, and he began to openly cry. That was his purpose. Helping others. Protecting them. That town...that town was home.

“Uh, kid?” the clerk asked, obviously confused. “Are you alright?”

Phantom didn’t answer him. He phased out of his stolen attire, earning a surprised shriek from the worker and the other customers. He ignored them all, and he flew through the ceiling as fast as he could for Amity Park, Illinois.

123456789

He arrived some time later, still clutching tightly onto that brochure. The second he was within the city limits, there was an instant sense of self. His memories were not failing him. This was home. This was where he was meant to be, and these were the people he had sworn to protect and care for.

Why? Phantom couldn’t tell you a true reason why. It just was what he knew he did. The paper in his hands proved it.

No sooner than he arrived was he able to get straight back to work, as there was a ghost attacking the city.

[kaistarus]

Clickbait(YouTuberAU)--Chapter 5

Pairings: Kiribaku, Tododeku

Words: 4,437

Summary:  A lot of great things came with being a big name YouTuber, but along with those perks were some serious drawbacks. One of the biggest being your lack of personal privacy.

Due to just one video, Kirishima's least well-kept secret has become a viral sensation overnight, and now he has to deal with the repercussions from both the YouTube community and the public. Hopefully, those he's dragging down with him won't mind...

Notes: Welcome to how many Buzzfeed Unsolved references can I fit into one chapter lol. Had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you all like it!!

Read the full thing here

Kirishima laid haphazardly across the leather sofa, upper body sunk perfectly into the cushion now melded for his form. He shoveled a mouthful of Americanized-Chinese take-out that had been ordered once too often that week and numbed his mind with another Disney princess movie. As Rapunzel cupped Eugene’s cheek, singing through tears to bring her new love back from the dead he brushed his thumb longingly against his cell phone. If only he had someone who would cut their hair and sing to him if he were dying.

“Are you just going lay there and mope all day?

Kirishima groaned, pausing the movie with his phone. “I’m not moping. I’m relaxing.”

“You’ve been on that couch for the past three days,” Sero said. He kicked one of many take-out boxes surrounding Kirishima. “In those same clothes.”

Kirishima pulled his childhood Crimson Riot blanket above his head. It had been a full week since he and Bakugou exchanged numbers, and the only thing he received from him was a thumbs-up emoji when Kirishima texted him about their video hitting number one trending. An emoji like that basically meant ‘fuck off’ in text lingo. Kirishima hadn’t known what he did wrong, but he could take a hint.

“Do you think you could be… overreacting?” Sero asked.

Kirishima pulled the blanket down far enough to glare at Sero. “I would never overreact about this.”

“Clearly.”

Kirishima didn’t care what Sero thought. He would rather lay here in the mingled smell of Chinese leftovers and armpit stench than face reality.

His cocoon of warmth was ripped away as Sero pulled the fleece blanket off. Kirishima sat up and reached after the covers, but Sero had been too fast.

“What the hell, dude,” Kirishima said, giving up and lying back down.

“Mina told me I needed to get you up today, and I fear her more on a good day than you on your worst.”

That was fair, but it didn’t mean Kirishima liked it. He turned to face away from Sero and burrow further into the cushion’s warmth, not suspecting Sero to grip his legs and drag him off the sofa. “Bro, what the fuck!” Kirishima said, kicking at Sero’s hands and gripping the armrest for dear life.

Sero won. Kirishima flopped belly first onto plush carpet, feet atop Sero’s lap who’d fallen over the moment Kirishima lost his holding on the side of the couch. Before Kirishima could berate Sero for ruining his depressive episode the couch cushions started to vibrate. He realized his phone fell between the cracks during their tussle.

Kirishima figured Mina was calling to check on him and he had a thing or two to say to her. He dug between the cracks, annoyance allowing him to ignore a large number of crumbs his fingertips were brushing and whipped his phone to his ear.

“Mina if you don’t start minding your own—"

“Kirishima!” Midoriya’s voice threw Kirishima off guard. He pulled the phone away and nearly dropped the device when ‘Bakugou Katsuki’ flashed in all caps. “I’m so glad you picked up.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima said confused. Midoriya was panting heavily, and it sounded like the phone was being jostled around. “Are you okay, dude? Why do you have Bakugou’s—"

“Everything’s fine! Hey, we’re filming today, and I was wondering if you wanted to come to hang out?” Midoriya asked. Kirishima strained to hear what he thought was yelling in the background.

“We, like, Mysteries Unsolved?”

“Yeah! You and I still haven’t talked. I need to get to know the guy that Kacchan—oof.”

There were muffled arguments after Kirishima assumed the phone had been dropped. He called out to Midoriya a few times, growing concerned when he heard a high-pitched squeal.

“Shitty Hair?” A husky voice filtered to his ear. Kirishima’s mouth went dry and he gripped the phone tighter.

“Uh, that’s me?”

“What did that fucker say?” Bakugou asked. “He’s a damn liar. You can’t trust him.”

Kirishima looked up at Sero who had started eating the rest of the General Tso he’d gotten for lunch. Kirishima kicked him onto his side.

“He said you were filming today and that I should come over.”

“Oh.” The line went quiet for a little too long and Kirishima had to check they were still connected. “That’s fine. You should do that.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have—”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Suddenly the fact that he’d been wearing the same clothes for three days became more apparent. “I just gotta get ready and then I’ll head over.”

They said their goodbyes and Kirishima fell back onto his back with a sigh. Sero crawled to hover over him with a mocking look and Kirishima eyed him suspiciously. “What?”

“I would never overreact.” He said, voice pitched higher and face scrunched, shaking his head and clearly mocking him. Kirishima shoved him onto his side again and rolled into a squatting position to boost himself up. He had to wash off his depression stank.

~*~*~*~

Kirishima realized, standing in front of Bakugou’s red-bricked apartment complex, that it was a lot less intimidating than he remembered. Maybe because he didn’t have the feel of impending doom rolling around in his stomach this time.

“Alright,” Sero said, leaning across the passenger seat. “Text me if you need anything.”

“Yes, mom,” Kirishima said while rolling his eyes.

“And be safe. Those are basically strangers up there.”

“Okay, mom.”

“And make sure you use protection. I can’t take care of any more children.”

“Sero. Leave.”

Sero laughed and drove off, leaving Kirishima to grumble his way down the stone path lined with daisies and white-painted benches with hearts cut into the backs. Kirishima paused to watch a small bird drink from a layered fountain—had he seriously been freaking out over this place? He reached the glass vestibule that buzzed the moment he texted Bakugou he’d arrived. Unlike the last time he came to the complex Kirishima navigated the dimly lit halls much easier, only getting lost once. He blamed it on the random flyer informing tenants not to leave their dog’s droppings in the hallway.

He found the silver plaque reading 420 rather quickly and after a self-pep talk knocked strongly on the wooden door. He bounced on the balls of his feet, and when the door pulled open the guy with half his hair dyed from the party was staring blankly back at him. Kirishima remembered Uraraka saying he was Bakugou’s roommate and their editor, how did he forget he’d be here.

“Shitty Hair.” Todoroki—he thinks that’s what Uraraka called him—said. Kirishima waited for more, but after an uncomfortably long time staring at each other, he realized that was it.

“Can I come in, please?”

Todoroki’s eyes narrowed and he found himself shrinking under the gaze. He thought once things had been figured out between him and Bakugou this Todoroki guy wouldn’t hate him anymore, but it looks like he’d been wrong.

“Is that Kirishima?” Midoriya came bounding up from behind Todoroki. “What are you doing in the hall? Come on, we’re almost done setting up!”

Kirishima slid past Todoroki with as much space as possible. The apartment looked massive compared to how it’d felt crammed with all those people the night of the party. The furniture that Kaminari had fallen off was now pushed against the walls to make room for the set that Kirishima had seen in so many of their YouTube videos. An old wooden table and chairs became the focus and a backdrop was being set up behind them. Taped to the backdrop were wanted posters, maps with red string and post-its, and various black and white photos of vehicles, people, and crime scenes. Kirishima felt an uncontrollable smile start to form.

“I always pictured you having a studio or something.”

“It looks more complicated than it is.” Midoriya shrugged. “It’s already intact in Todoroki’s room. We just move it out here.”

“You keep the table in your room?” Kirishima asked turning to Todoroki.

“It’s our dining set.”

Kirishima eyed the old, cracked table and the two uncomfortable chairs. He couldn’t imagine having to sit on those for anything other than a short film session.

“Kacchan is in Todoroki’s room grabbing the last of the camera equipment,” Midoriya said. “If you wanted to go help him.” Kirishima did. He nodded to Midoriya and wandered down the only hallway that could lead to other rooms. He had no clue which door led to Todoroki’s room, but after hearing several curses he had a pretty good idea.

He nudged the ajar door open with his foot and found Bakugou headfirst in a closet.

“Fucking half-and-half bastard. I told him to leave them out, but nobody ever fucking listens to me. I swear to fucking god I’m going to lose my mind.” Bakugou muttered to himself while throwing clothing items and books behind him.

“Would you like help?”

Bakugou pulled out of the closet too quickly, causing a few crashes to be heard inside. “Hey.” He said breathlessly. Kirishima figured from digging around in the closet so long.

“Hi.”

“I’ve almost got it. Just hold on.” Bakugou said before diving back into whatever chaos Todoroki maintained in there.

Kirishima took small steps around the room that was about as plain as the owner itself. The walls were blank, the bedspread was grey, and even his computer desk was barren. The only thing that stood out was the two pictures hung above his bedframe with scotch tape. The first was him, Midoriya, and Bakugou holding their one-millionth subscriber plaque, and the second was two young boys in jerseys covered in dirt, the blonde boy had a cocky grin with his arm slung around a pale-haired boy who smiled shyly.

“You can carry these.” Bakugou offered Kirishima two heavy leather bags filled with equipment only Sero could name. He followed Kirishima’s gaze to the pictures on Todoroki’s wall and scoffed. “I told the hag not to give him that.”

“Is that you?”

“Yeah, but it’s a stupid picture.” Bakugou nudged Kirishima forward with his own case. “I don’t know why he likes it so much.”

Kirishima followed Bakugou out of the room to help him unpack the equipment while Midoriya and Todoroki completed the backdrop.

“Kacchan, I’m going to start recording the voiceover,” Midoriya said, walking toward the hall with Todoroki trailing after.

“Fucking do whatever I don’t care.”

“Voiceover?” Kirishima asked.

“Yeah, the dramatic explaining bull shit. Half-and-half cuts it in with us fucking around. It sounds cleaner that way.”

Kirishima nodded. That made sense. He guessed he never thought about it that intensely while just casually watching. “So, what’s the topic today?”

Bakugou shrugged. “The dynamic works better if I don’t know.” He said, struggling with a tripod. Kirishima sat cross-legged and watched helpfully. “I set up all the outings and Deku does this bull shit.”

Kirishima’s jaw dropped, “but I thought you hated being a ghost hunter.”

“I’m not a fucking ghost hunter.” Bakugou paused, staring blankly ahead. “Am I a ghost hunter?”

“I mean by definition...” Kirishima shrugged. “Sorry, dude.”

“I don’t want to be a fucking ghost hunter. This is bull shit!”

Todoroki poked his head out from the end of the hallway. “Izuku would like me to pass on, ‘Kacchan shut the fuck up. You’re ruining my recording’.”

“Tell him to suck a fat one.”

“I will not.” Todoroki left and Bakugou stuck his tongue out childishly.

“Izuku?” Kirishima asked.

“Yep,” Bakugou motioned for Kirishima to hand him one of the items lying beside him. “You give someone a place to stay and they betray you by sleeping with the enemy.”

“That didn’t sound overdramatic at all.”

“I’m not overdramatic.” He muttered under his breath. Kirishima leaned back on his palms and glanced back to where Todoroki had disappeared.

Midoriya’s head poked out from the hall. “Kirishima there’s a fun ransom note in this case and I was wondering if you wanted to do the voiceover for it?”

“Fun ransom note?” Bakugou shook his head.

“Me?”

“Normally Todoroki would, but since you’re here I figured it’d be fun to switch things up.”

Kirishima scrambled up and bounded down to the room opposite Todoroki’s. Bakugou’s room had a lot more to take in than Todoroki’s had. The amount of superhero merchandise—All Might specifically—that Bakugou had was impressive even to Kirishima. He had posters hung all over, actions figures and Funko Pops on bookshelves—most unopened, comic books resting on his nightstand, and an All Might blanket strewn across his black comforter. In between the superhero posters were a few pop-punk bands from the early 2000s that he was sure Sero would appreciate.

Kirishima’s eyes landed on a silver laptop on Bakugou’s bed that had a few YouTuber’s logo stickers on them. He noticed one was worn and nearly peeling off the surface, and it took him a moment to recognize it as his own logo. It was Kirishima’s first attempt at merch from nearly four years ago. He’d changed his design completely since then since hardly anyone had bought those. Bakugou had said he only knew so much about the Vlog Squad because Midoriya watched their videos in college. If that was true why would he have—

“Alright, here are the sections we need,” Midoriya said, handing him a paper with several highlighted sentences.

“Do I have to read it all dramatic?” Kirishima asked, skimming the words. He took a seat in front of their expensive-looking microphone while Todoroki clicked various buttons on the screen before him. This was all completely out of his basic editing toolbox.

“Just read them like you want to kidnap and murder a little girl,” Todoroki said somehow disinterested.

“Shoto.” Midoriya smacked his arm lightly. He muttered under his breath, leaning back and gesturing to the mic in front of Kirishima. He stared at it blankly.

“Don’t worry too much,” Bakugou said, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms. “Whatever you do will be fine.”

“If not, I’ll just rerecord it when you leave.”

Midoriya smacked Todoroki again. Bakugou gave Kirishima a millisecond half-smile and that was all the encouragement he needed to begin. The ‘fun’ ransom note turned out to be extremely depressing, and unfortunately, Kirishima ended up having to read it several times before getting a good take. He fumbled over a few larger words, but Midoriya was incredibly forgiving. After all the unnecessary compliments he received Kirishima left confident that he’d performed decent enough for a working edit.

“Alright, time to get this bitch over with,” Bakugou said, kicking off the doorframe.

“That’s the spirit Kacchan.”

Excitement fluttered through Kirishima’s stomach as Bakugou and Midoriya took their seats. He sat atop their kitchen counter a few meters behind the film equipment so any noise he made wouldn’t get picked up by audio. Todoroki made a few final adjustments to Bakugou’s set up, ignoring his insulted rants, and counted off to signal the start of filming. Once the camera was on he moved back beside Kirishima, and it was clear by his cold demeanor that he had little intention of humoring him with a conversation.

Like all videos, Midoriya began with explaining that week’s topic while Bakugou half-listened, twirling a red pen between his fingers. They would be covering the unsolved murder of a young girl, a case that their patron had been actively requesting. Midoriya barely got three minutes in before Bakugou interjected.

“Are those business folders going to be a regular thing now?”

“I was planning on it,” Midoriya said. “Why? Does it bother you that I look professional now?”

“No. It pisses me off because I know a bunch of ghost bull shit is going to end up in there.” Bakugou said, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, it’s not bull shit, so sorry but—”

“Wait,” Bakugou turned serious and put his hands up. “Did you hear that?”

Midoriya shook his head and Bakugou pointed his pen downwards. “It was my chair squeaking. Did you think it was a ghost? I’m just making sure you know the difference.”

Kirishima snorted. Bakugou and Midoriya both turned to him, Bakugou’s expression elated and Midoriya’s crestfallen.

“Kirishima,” Midoriya said whining.

“I’m sorry.”

“This is great.” Bakugou crossed his arms behind his head for support as he leaned back. “We should have a live audience more often.”

“This audience is biased, and you know it,” Midoriya muttered under his breath.

Bakugou rolled his eyes and waved for Midoriya to start up again. They continued with the episode and Kirishima tried his best to force down laughter whenever Bakugou made a snide remark. It hadn’t helped that Bakugou would make direct eye contact with him after every incident.

Todoroki started mumbling beside him.

“What?” Kirishima figured there was no harm in trying with Todoroki.

Todoroki side-eyed him. “Bakugou’s showing off. This is going to be annoying to edit.”

Kirishima didn’t know what that meant. As far as he could tell Bakugou was acting like normal.

“Are you taking notes?” Midoriya asked. Bakugou had his head down over his small yellow notepad and Midoriya strained to see what it said. “When have you ever taken notes that doesn’t—Deku is a fucking idiot. That’s…that’s real funny. Are you proud of yourself?”

Bakugou wiggled his eyebrows cockily at the camera and made brief eye-contact with Kirishima again. He supposed Bakugou was acting a little goofier than usual, but Kirishima wouldn’t consider that showing off.

Todoroki groaned dramatically beside him, so he clearly disagreed. Bakugou listened to Midoriya explain the first two suspects and suddenly he slapped his hand over Midoriya’s mouth. Midoriya peeled Bakugou’s hand off and looked at him like he’d gone insane.

“What’s happen—”

“Deku, I’ve connected the fucking dots.”

Midoriya looked a cross between amused and angry. Kirishima had his hands covering his mouth and was keeping his laughter down by sheer willpower alone. He wouldn’t allow himself to ruin what he knew would become a historical moment.

“Kacchan, there is nothing for you to connect yet.”

“I’ve connected them,” Bakugou said. He went on to rattle off a theory connecting the first two suspects to the murder. Kirishima and Todoroki both glanced at each other confused by what was happening before them. Bakugou spoke with such confidence it was hard not to believe he’d just solved the case. Midoriya read through the paper in his hand, looking between it and Bakugou before throwing it behind his back exasperatedly.

“Yeah, that’s… that’s the second theory.”

Bakugou raised his hand for a high-five and Midoriya eyed it wearily. Bakugou didn’t even bother waiting before he high-fived himself.

There were only several minutes of recording left as Midoriya wrapped of the final theory, which was always the most ridiculous and would send Bakugou in a tizzy. He ranted for remaining time as Midoriya laughed, but once Bakugou calmed Midoriya ended their ride with his classic phrase, ‘for now the mystery remains unsolved’. Kirishima grinned giddily as the words left Midoriya’s mouth.

“Those guys were assholes,” Bakugou said, stretching his arms as he stood from his chair.

“I mean they’re all murder suspects,” Deku said, propping his feet onto the wooden table. “Do you think that’s ever been someone’s last words to a murderer? You’re a fucking asshole?”

“Those would be my last words.”

Midoriya laughed getting up to help Todoroki look over the past forty minutes of footage. Bakugou walked straight up to Kirishima who was swinging his legs on the edge of the granite countertop.

“So, was it everything you dreamed it’d be?” Bakugou asked.

“That was amazing,” Kirishima hopped off the counter, accidentally landing a little too close to Bakugou. “You guys were so cool.”

Bakugou flushed with color and looked away from Kirishima’s sunshine smile. “It wasn’t anything special…”

“That’s uncharacteristically humble of you Kacchan,” Midoriya said, a teasing lilt to his voice. Bakugou flipped him the bird.

“Can we eat now? I am hungry.” Todoroki said placing the camera back onto the tripod.

“You’re getting food with us, right?” Midoriya asked Kirishima.

“I didn’t know you were getting food.”

“We always have a celebration meal after we record an episode. Kacchan was supposed to invite you.”

“Nobody fucking told me to—”

“Do I have to do everything,” Midoriya muttered under his breath. He grabbed Todoroki’s hand and led him toward the front door. “Shoto is going to help me take something to my car. We’ll be right back.”

“But we aren’t carrying anything,” Todoroki said. Midoriya didn’t respond and Todoroki shrugged helplessly to Bakugou as he let himself be dragged out his apartment. Bakugou and Kirishima were left staring at the door confused.

“That was…”

“Tactless.” Bakugou offered.

“I was going to say interesting, but yours works.”

“Obviously you’re invited to get food with us,” Bakugou said, avoiding eye contact by staring down at his plain black socks.

Kirishima nodded. “I figured.”

The moment Bakugou did look up Kirishima’s mind was erased of anything he’d planned to say. All he could think about was how intensely attractive his eyes were, how privileged he felt to be in that situation, and how he wished his heart would slow the fuck down because there’s no way Bakugou couldn’t hear it beating.

“I’m glad you were able to show up,” Bakugou admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, uh, I’m glad I got to see you again.” Kirishima didn’t miss the way Bakugou’s eyes briefly widened before he looked away.

“Sorry I never really texted you. We went to the middle of nowhere for four days, so I didn’t have cell service.”

“Middle of nowhere?” Kirishima asked.

“Yeah. We were hunting… bigfoot.”

Kirishima bit his lip to hold back another smile. Only he would find a guy who could use hunting bigfoot as a legitimate excuse for not texting him back. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like I was depressed eating to Disney movies for three days straight or something.”

Bakugou eyed him suspiciously and Kirishima immediately started backpedaling.

“Besides, we aren’t dating or anything, so you don’t owe me any explanations,” Kirishima said, hoping he could deescalate the suspicion.

“Right. No. Yeah. We’re not… that.”

Kirishima realized he may have de-escalated too much when an ounce of hurt flickered across Bakugou’s face. That was bad. He needed to fix that. Kirishima racked his brain for ideas, but he could only come up with stupid plans. Kirishima noticed Bakugou’s face scrunch up like he was about to overthink something, and he took a deep breath. It was time to do something stupid.

“Not that I would hate if we were…” Kirishima said. “Dating or something.”

Bakugou’s cheeks tinted red and Kirishima hoped that was a good sign.

“Right,” Bakugou nodded. “That wouldn’t completely suck.”

Kirishima didn’t bother holding back the smile that broke out. “Well then maybe we should—"

“We’re back!” The front door swung open and Midoriya strutted into the living room. "Shoto and I were thinking about tacos if that works for you… two…”

Kirishima hadn’t noticed how close they were until Bakugou backed up an exaggerative distance. Kirishima didn’t anger easily, but at that moment if looks could kill Midoriya would’ve dropped on the spot.

“We’ll just wait in the hall,” Midoriya said, quickly pushing a confused Todoroki back out the door.

Bakugou had both his hands on his face and he looked at Kirishima through spread fingers. Kirishima gave him a half-grin and shrugged.

“Can we talk later?” Bakugou asked. “If Deku walks in one more time he’ll be the star of our next video.”

Kirishima felt his face burn. “Yeah. Later works.”

Bakugou nodded. “I have to… get shoes and stuff.”

He left Kirishima alone in the living room. Kirishima smacked his cheeks so the blush would be gone by the time he went into the hall. He had his hand on the brass doorknob when he spotted a whiteboard hanging beside the door.

It was a calendar whiteboard, the type you usually find in college apartments. It was color-coded based on each boy for chores, appointments, meal prep, rent, and bill payments, and other random reminders—Bakugou had one about picking Todoroki up from his dentist appointment. At the bottom left there were stick figures of Todoroki and Bakugou that looked to be drawn by the opposite. Kirishima had never seen something so wholesome and organized in his life. He knew that if his house tried to implement this it would go to shit in less than 12 hours.

The right side was more chaotic and had been invaded by Uraraka and Midoriya. Various things like fuck Deku, altered with a yes please beneath it; Uraraka is awesome, rewritten as Uraraka is stupid; Kacchan smells, a sloppy GOOD scribbled underneath; and Todoroki is a boss ass bitch, which was left alone. This was more like what anything at his home would resemble.

“I got it because half-and-half needed to learn how to be a functioning adult,” Bakugou said, sneaking up behind him. “Nobody takes my shit seriously.”

“Can I write on it?” Kirishima asked, already reaching for the red dry-erase marker. He found a clean spot in the bottom right and wrote ‘Kirishima was here’ with a shark-toothed smiley face.

Bakugou stared intensely at the spot then nodded. “Let’s go.”

The moment they entered the hall Midoriya apologized which started an argument between him and Bakugou. Kirishima tried seeking help in Todoroki as the two trailed behind them, but it appeared Todoroki still wanted nothing to do with him. Kirishima hoped he’d be able to fix whatever was going on because Todoroki seemed like a big part of Bakugou’s life. Mina always told Kirishima that befriending people was his hidden superpower, so he would just have to hope that he’d be able to ware Todoroki down. Kirishima wanted to be a part of Bakugou’s life, and that meant getting along with the people who were in it.

Bakugou aggressively punched the down button for the elevator while informing Midoriya his poor taste in movies made his every opinion irrelevant. When the doors slid open Todoroki shoulder checked him while walking past and Bakugou paused his fight with Midoriya as if thrown off by Todoroki’s actions. Kirishima guessed it really was just something about him then wasn’t it. The two appeared to be having some sort of telepathic conversation now and Kirishima just leaned against the cool metal of the elevator’s wall.

Don’t get him wrong. Kirishima was thrilled to be hanging out with everyone but…

He hoped later wouldn’t be too far away.

[scaredofheroin]

Captain N - Chapter 3: It’s Dangerous To Go Alone

Pushing the large doors of Peach's Castle open, Captain N feels a new invigoration within him as he looks over the horizon. The sunlight on his face and the breeze brushing across his skin felt new in no way these senses ever had before. The rolling green hills, the almost cloudless blue sky, the hills in the distance formed in the shape of upside-down U's, the few birds flying around through the open air, the small mushroom-shaped houses. A completely new, unknown world packed to the brim with adventure and discovery. For the first time in his life, Captain N felt truly alien. By his side is a bird-pilot, a winged angel wielding a bow, and a magic Princess from a faraway kingdom. Behind the grand, wooden doors he just exited are currently a stern, stone-faced God of thunder, a gentle, angelic Goddess of light, and a bright and pink Princess of this kingdom. And the vehicles! While on his home world, Captain N's species have been limited mainly to cars and trucks, but within fifteen minutes of his arrival, he's seen a spaceship a fraction of the space shuttles of Earth, and mighty airships carrying immeasurably powerful armaments. Within a couple hours, Captain N has seen more impossibilities made possible than ever before in his entire, eighteen-year life. And to top it all off: the prophecy. This great revelation planted a swirling storm of emotions deep inside the newly dubbed hero. While he's finally achieved the level of greatness and importance he's desired for so long, it came packaged with more responsibility than he's ever held before. From hereon out, the lives of countless innocent men, women and children are counting on Captain N triumphing over an evil force he's only just been introduced to. Bowser, King K. Rool and King Dedede, and the armies they command. Gazing into the distance, Captain N imagines what else he could discover in this strange, new world named Yamajiro. Adventure will lurk around every corner, as will danger. He'll be thrust into more life-threatening situations than ever before, more risk than he could ever have imagined he would ever be trapped in. But at least he won't be alone. Looking to his three newfound allies, Pit radiated a positive determination to save the day, Falco seemed slightly bitter and ready to face the evils of Yamajiro head-on, and Princess Zelda displays a readiness to escape the confines of the castle and help in changing the world for the better.

"Are you ready, Captain?" Zelda asked, snapping Captain N's wandering mind back to the present.

"Ready as I'll ever be." He responded, fearing his nervousness seeping out of his words.

"Right, first stop: The warp zone!" Pit announced, pointing to a nonspecific point in the distance.

Captain N could hear Falco grumble about not being able to get to New Leaf Town in his trusty Arwing, but fortunately didn't complain to the group. Pit didn't seem to notice, however, and led the group on with determination. Zelda and Falco followed directly behind Pit, with Captain N in the back, still taking in the foreign scenery. Few conversation was shared as the group trekked through the grassy plains, eventually going through a small town of mushroom-shaped houses. Looking back, it concerned Captain N a slight bit more to see Peach's Castle, a symbol of fortitude and currently occupied by the two powerful deities Palutena and Raiden, shrink further into the distance. Not wanting to sink further into worry, he turned his attention to the strange houses. Some of the houses were only a single story, with the roof replaced with a red mushroom cap with white dots, while other houses were two stories tall. As Pit led the group through the town center, a small marketplace could be seen, but what was noticeably absent from the entire town were actual townspeople.

"So... what happened to everyone?" Captain N asked, breaking the silence.

Zelda sighed forlornly before turning to answer him.

"Once the airship raids began, the Toad people were evacuated to other, safer places, from New Donk City to the Kanto region. Fortunately, only the castle was targeted by the airships, but panic ensued nonetheless." She explain to Captain N, the slight waver in her voice illuminating that the memory is still a sore spot for her.

"Some of the braver Toads stayed behind to help Princess Peach, Raiden and Lady Palutena in any way they could." Pit added on, his voice more chipper in comparison. "Falco, Princess Zelda and I would do what we could, as well, but now that you're here, we could do a lot more good than wait around and wait for Bowser and crew to show their ugly faces!"

"Hey, uh, that reminds me: ...who are you all?" Captain N nervously asked, addressing the elephant in the room. With the group realizing that this was a good question to ask, the three turned to face him.

"Well, you already know that my name's Pit, but I'm also the captain of Lady Palutena's royal guard!" Pit announced, taking pride in his title. It did sting Captain N a little that Pit actually earned the title of captain, rather than taking it because it sounds cool. "I mainly use this here bow, but I'm proficient with pretty much any other weapon out there!"

"Name's Falco, currently the best pilot on this whole planet and I used to be with Star Fox squadron before they... vanished. Now I've just got my Arwing, my blaster, and my wits." Falco spoke up, leaning against a nearby light post. "You've got us too, you know!" Pit noted eagerly. Falco simply shrugged and responded with "Yeah, I guess so.". Zelda rolled her eyes a bit before introducing herself.

"And I am Zelda, Princess of the kingdom of Hyrule and ancestor of the mortal incarnation of the Goddess Hylia." Zelda introduced herself in a very curt and proper manner. With everyone properly introduced and their importance made known, Captain N felt even more out of place. His footing suddenly felt uneasy as the three pairs of eyes turned to him. "Why don't you introduce yourself to us?" Zelda suggested. Captain N's mouth felt dry, trying to figure out what best to say to make himself sound worthy of the prophecy.

"Well... my name's Peter Lavancha, and, uh... I'm... Captain N." was the best he could do, adding a slight shrug to the end of his sentence. Falco snickered to himself, Pit raised an eyebrow and Zelda seemed more confused to anything else. "...Is that it?" Zelda asked, prodding further. "...Kind of, yeah." Captain N meekly replied. "That can't be it! You're the chosen one for a reason! Are you good at fighting or good with weapons?" Pit asked, hoping to alleviate the awkwardness. This failed however, as Captain N shook his head in response. "You some kinda tech whiz, or know how to pilot? You had that weird car back there." Falco noted, referring to Captain N's currently wrecked car. "Not really, everyone my age can do that." He replied, with slight shame in his voice. "Perhaps you're a dedicated leader? Someone who can inspire people towards a common goal?" Zelda asked, eliciting only a "No, sorry" from Captain N. "Have you at least been in a fight?" Falco asked Captain N. In response, all he got was an embarrassed "...No". Falco leered at Pit, silently saying "THIS guy's gonna save the planet?". But before Falco could verbally make a snarky comment, Zelda spoke up once more.

"Well, then, if you're not currently a warrior, then surely you could become one along your journey. The weapon you're holding means you're the one who can defeat Bowser, Dedede and K. Rool." Zelda insisted, motioning to the laser pistol Captain N was holding. He wasn't feeling brave enough to stick it in his pocket yet. Captain N nodded in agreement, eyeing the pistol. "...Yeah, destiny can't be wrong, can it?" He replied, feeling a bit more upbeat. "That's the spirit!" Pit cheered, grateful the mood's lightened. Captain N eyed a road sign a good distance away from him before getting an idea. "I should get comfortable with using this thing, right?" He noted, raising the pistol and aiming at the sign. Holding his breath, he closed his left eye, looked down the sights, pulled the trigger, and a flash of light later, there was a small blast mark singed on the upper right corner, not the center he was aiming for. Captain N felt thrown off by the complete lack of recoil when he shot the pistol, due to there being no kinetic force involved in shooting lasers.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get plenty of time to practice soon." Falco noted, unimpressed with Captain N's lack of marksmanship. "For sure!" Pit added. Captain N only sighed to himself, hoping he'd do a little better. Turning back to the group, he examined the pistol further. "I think I'll call it the Zapper." He declared, admiring how the sun gleamed on its shiny surface. "You can name it whatever you want, but we really should be getting to New Leaf Town." Falco reminded him. Hastily nodding, Captain N joined Falco and Zelda in following Pit to the warp zone.

The group hike continued past the town and through the same green hills, with Captain N being too preoccupied taking in the scenery to converse with his teammates, as well as still feeling too out of place to consider them more than co-workers. Eventually, a group of large, green pipes sticking out of the ground came into view, with a vacant tollbooth in front of the pipes and signs next to each pipe. "Here we are!" Pit announced, turning back to the three others. "So... what do these do?" Captain N asked Pit. "Oh, right! It's simple, you just jump into one of them and it'll take you to where you want to go!" Pit explained. "...That's it?" Captain N asked. "That's it! Simple as that!" Pit answered.

Zelda walked over to the pipes, reading the signs. Falco idly looked inside the tollbooth, finding nothing of note. Captain N followed Zelda, getting a better look at the pipes. Despite how closely he looked, they were just big, green pipes. Apart from their sheer size, nothing stood out about them. They were smooth to the touch, so either they're made of some tough material or they get cleaned regularly. "Found it! Come here!" Zelda announced, motioning towards a specific pipe. Pit, Captain N and Falco quickly gathered, where Captain N noticed the sign read "To New Leaf Town". "I'll go first!" Pit declared, shooting up in the air and diving down into the pipe before anyone could object. A strange gulping sound accompanied Pit descending into the pipe, which made Captain N even more uneasy. "Looks like Cap here's got some cold feet, so I'll get going." Falco stated, climbing up the pipe and then diving down into it, the same gulping sound coming from the pipe. Captain N was left awkwardly standing with Zelda, wanting to go ahead, but not so sure about it. "...I'll go next." Captain N eventually spoke up, still standing in place. Zelda moved to look Captain N in the eyes, clearly concerned. "I completely understand your situation, Peter. I can't imagine how lost and alone you must feel, but I assure you we will be here to guide you on this quest." She spoke, sympathizing with him. Captain N nodded, climbed up the pipe, summoned the nerve to stick the Zapper in his right pocket, and after saying a silent prayer to himself, he jumped down.

The descent down into the warp pipe was incredibly rapid, and soon Captain N's view was pitch-black. The gulping sound only repeated three times, and after that the only sound to accompany the venture through the pipe was the air rushing past his ears. The further down he went, the colder the air around him became. He tried not to panic, being trapped in this seemingly never-ending pipe. Captain N closed his eyes and tried to send his mind to a more pleasant place. But before he could decide to focus on either his Middle School graduation or his last trip to the beach, the air around him suddenly became much warmer, the three gulping sounds ringed once more, and Captain N shot out of the pipe, falling on the dirt in front of the pipe. Thankfully, the Zapper had remained in his pocket throughout his little expedition, and hadn't been shot either. Taking a moment to adjust his eyes to the sudden sunlight and making sure which direction was down, Captain N carefully stood up, finding Falco and Pit standing close by.

"I'd give that a 3, what do you think, Pit?" Falco remarked. Pit shook his head, frowning at Falco.

"It was his first time using a warp pipe, I think he did great!" Pit shot back.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah! He could've vomited!"

Before they could keep going, Zelda emerged from the pipe, landing much more gracefully than Captain N. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" She asked Captain N. In response, he mulled over the overall experience briefly before concluding that, yes, all things considered, it could have been worse. Nodding in agreement, Captain N removed the Zapper from his pocket and joined Zelda, Pit and Falco on the small hill nearby. The view from the grassy hill revealed a steep decline, with a small town visible in the distance. "That's New Leaf Town, we'll find Simon Belmont there." Zelda informed Captain N.

"Wait, so who's Simon Belmont and how do we know he's here?" Captain N asked the group.

"Simon Belmont is a famous vampire hunter, who's defeated Dracula tons of times before!" Pit replied eagerly, turning to face Captain N.

"Dracula? Really?" Captain N asked, surprised by hearing a familiar name for the first time since arriving.

"Yup! Why, is he in your home world too?"

"...Kind of. Back where I'm from, he's a fictional book character."

"Well, here he's the real deal, so you better watch yourself." Falco warned.

"As for how we know he's here, Simon is a common visitor to New Leaf Town, and his arrival is commonly followed with a delivery of copious amounts of steak. Deliveries to New Leaf Town must pass through the Mushroom Kingdom first, and we found a large amount of raw steak in the most recent delivery, a few days ago." Zelda further explained. "How can Dracula be defeated more than once? I'm really confused." Captain N asked further. "Dracula can be revived after a period of time, so it's likely we'' run into him in Castlevania if we're not careful. Now, Castlevania's exact location can be difficult to determine, but again, it will be made simpler with Simon's aid." Zelda answered. Falco was leaning against a nearby tree, clearly impatient to keep going and get to town.

"I'm sorry if I'm asking a lot of questions." Captain N apologized meekly. "Hey, no worries! This is all new to you! It's good you're with us!" Pit interjected, with Zelda nodding in agreement. "Besides, there has to be a point where you're not asking questions." Falco snarked over his shoulder. "Save your comments, Lombardi." Zelda shot at him. "Whatever, let's just get going." Falco shrugged, turning back to New Leaf Town. After being joined by Zelda, Captain N and Pit at the tree, the four carefully make their way down the steep hill towards New Leaf Town.

[nevergiveupneverrun]

Bodyguard- Chapter Five “Arouse” Part One

Hello, I hope you’re all doing great. Here is chapter five of my story Bodyguard.  I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link of the previous chapter: Click here

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

A week that I had settled my quarters at Amelia Shepherd and I began to quickly take my habits. One of them was to prepare the coffee and enjoy a quiet breakfast. Amelia usually got up after me and this morning, while the room clock was showing “8:30”, I was in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to finish sinking. The day was busy, she had a shooting planned and I did not really know what to expect. The last drops escape from the filter of the coffee maker and I hasten to pour me a generous cup of this dark nectar. My toast series bounces simultaneously over the toast, which allows me to finalize my morning meal. I toast two toast of Nutella and enjoy them with pleasure while sipping my coffee regularly.

I hear footsteps running down the stairs and I finally see Amelia appear, already dressed in jeans and a black V-top. - Good morning, she announces to me when entering the room. - Good morning, you are early morning today. She goes to the fridge and takes out a brick of fresh orange juice which she uses a large glass. - I had a bad night… and we will start the photoshoot sooner than expected… Shes gobbles her glass of orange juice, then turns to me, looking at me from head to toe. - Are you ready already? - Yes, I always get up early… certain habits are hard to get rid of. She observes me a little longer before taking the floor again. - Is it a new shirt? Her question takes me a little off guard and I take a look reflexively on my shirt while touching the fabric with my fingers. I had not put my tie on yet and my jacket was sitting on a chair behind me, so my shirt was clearly put forward: I had dressed without really paying attention… I had dozens of white shirts and some of the colors… including this one, a blue nightshirt that I had chosen completely by chance while preparing me this morning. - It’s not new, but I may not wear it here yet… - It suits you very well, it brings out your eyes… She makes this remark to me by staring at me intensely and I don’t know how to react… I feel almost uncomfortable and I decide to quickly change the subject. - Do you want coffee, I just made it? - Yes gladly, thank you. She walks to the bar and grabs an apple in the fruit basket. I leave my stool and go on her back to fill her a cup of coffee by slipping a sugar. I add a spoon and approach her on the side putting the cup on the bar. - Thank you… Can you pass me the sugar? - If it’s for the sugar cube that you add to your coffee, it’s already in it… She looks at me surprised by this information but does not reply and just smiling at me by crunching in her apple. I take place in front of the half of toast I have left and take a big bite. I then see a laugh and looking up, I discovered Amelia facing me on the other side of the bar, watching me amused. - What are you laughing about? She laughs even more when she notices my incomprehension - It’s just that… it’s been several days since I wondered what was happening with my pots of Nutella that was decreasing so fast… I even scolded April thinking that it was she who cracked in secret… but I didn't even consider that it was you… I finish my toast while looking down at my plate. - You know one of my secrets now, I answer her smiling. Her own smile grows a little longer before she speaks again. - I didn’t know it was such an important part of my bodyguard diet… but it reassures me… - Does it reassures…you? - Yes, I know you have weaknesses like all of us… She then seizes the spoon that was in the pot of Nutella to make it disappear in her mouth and let it reappear a few seconds later, cleaned of the famous spread. - …and it’s indeed too good… She smiles at me and I cannot resist almost laughing at her gesture.

The doorbell rang at the same time, clenching me directly and causing me to go back to the “vigilance” mode. - Are you waiting for someone? She doesn’t answer my question directly, allowing herself to question me in return. - You all learn punctuality in your workouts? Her question remains unresolved and she’s content to finish her apple by gauging me. I advance to the videophone and I understand better what she refers to when discovering Jackson at the entrance. I open him and he walks forward after shaking my hand. - Hello, he blows me. - Hello, what are you doing here? - I’m coming to work, Amelia left me a text telling me that the departure was for 9:00 am… so I’m on time. I heard footsteps in my back and turning around I actually find Amelia our side. - Hello Jackson, thank you for coming earlier. - No problem, I’m here for that. - Okay, I get my back and we go there? It’s good for you Owen? - When you’re ready… She almost runs up the stairs and I am to return to my room. I go down so quickly, finishing to tie my tie on the stairs and then slipping my jacket left in the kitchen. I join Jackson in the entrance that had not moved a hair. - Do you have the address of the place? - Yes, it’s in Capitol Hill… I vaguely see where it is, don’t worry. - I'm not worried Jackson… We soon hear slamming heels and we see Amelia down the stairs, shoes and a purse completing her look… with a guitar in her hand. When she’s by our side, I open the door for her and follow her, leaving Jackson close the door behind.

We walk the few meters separating us from the car. I let her take place at the back and join my usual place, the passenger side. Jackson starts quickly, once installed, and the journey begins silently under a clear blue sky curt with the morose atmosphere of the last day of April. I observe the surrounding through the window and watch from time to time Amelia by the mirror. And at each glance, I discover her, contemplating the surroundings, the pensive look even worried. I don’t dare first to break the silence in the vehicle and then without knowing why, at the end of the fifth look to the back seat, it’s stronger than me. I turn to her discreetly and noting that she remains motionless, the words leave before I retain them. - Amelia, are you okay? A few seconds pass and she finally turns her head towards me. Her face is a little more fixed than during our first-morning exchange. - Yes, thank you… this photo session worries me a little… some doubts again… but everything will be better in two hours. Our eyes remain fixed in each other for a few moments, until Jackson remembers us. - Here we are, he announces finishing parking. - You are waiting for us… - No problem, O’. Good shooting, Amelia. - Thank you, Jackson, she answers. She stays quietly in the car, waiting for me to go first, which surprises me pleasantly. I take a look right and left before opening it and let her out of the car. - You learn quickly, I say in a whisper. - I have to let you work, right? I close the door behind her, and accompany her to the building facing us, one hand behind her back and grabbing me with her guitar. She looks at me out of the corner of her eyes but doesn’t reply to my gesture. Once in front of the building, she unlocks the door code giving us access to the entrance of the building. She seems to know the place very well, heading without hesitation and leading us to an imposing third-floor door.

She rings and the door doesn’t take long to open in front of us. A young brunette, slender and smiling, welcomes us on the other side. She walks up to Amelia and gives her a big kiss while blowing a “hello” to her. I stay behind and finally enter the place, closing the door behind me. Amelia waves to me, bringing me face to this unknown that I discover for the first time. - Carina, I present to you Owen Hunt, who takes care of my safety. Owen, here’s my photographer friend, Carina Deluca. This young woman scrutinizes me intensely, then hands me a hand that I press briefly. - Nice to meet you, Owen… - Likewise. She speaks to Amelia in the wake of having greeted me. - It’s all new to tell me? - Yeah, some days… - Everything is fine? - Yes, it’s just Richard who considers that we must be more careful henceforth… you know him… She smiles at Amelia while waving us forward. I discovered a large room in a loft apartment, which seems to be dedicated to her work as a photographer: gray-colored panel covering the wall, three lights projectors, and various cameras already placed on tripods. - Amelia, about the session, we are still on what we said last time, you haven’t changed your mind? I see Amelia think a few seconds and finally come forward to answer him. - I thought about it again this morning… are you sure it’s a good idea, I don’t want it to be badly perceived? I observe the exchange on the side without really understanding what they are talking about but trying to detect any clue allowing me to better understand the discussion. - Amelia, you know me… we always did things that matched you and that will be the case here too. Trust me, it will be very pretty and elegant… and the visual would fit perfectly with your album. The photographer then looks at me from the corner of my eye and then goes back to Amelia. - You will be more comfortable if we are only two? (turning to me) Maybe you can leave us during the session? I am looking for the look of Amelia who avoids me carefully, but I reply without waiting for approval from her. - I stay here… it’s part of my job. - Okay, in this case, Amelia are you still with me? She hesitates and finally lets her answer. - Okay… I’ll see the result anyway… before I decide. - Good, you have a screen, just on the side to change, I put you a kimono that you can put on and you join me? Amelia nods and eclipses behind the wooden panels on the side. However, I remain perplexed after this indication. - Owen? The question of the photographer remobilizes me at the moment and I turn to her. - Can you put the guitar here, just steps away from the lens? I performed without flinching, still disturbed by this discussion that I did not understand. - Thank you, you can put yourself behind me on the left side, if you wish, there s a stool for you to sit down. I settle where indicated when footsteps on the side make me turn my head. And the sight that unfolds before my eyes catches me completely off-guard… I actually see Amelia advance to the small square of the room dedicated to shooting… wearing only a short kimono that barely reaches mid-thigh, and wearing boots with heels, covered with fur. Carina smiles as she sees her approaching and settles in front of her. I feel the tension rising in me, realizing that this photoshoot takes a turn that I had not really anticipated. - You have the guitar right here… we will try different poses, I think… we’ll start with back shots where you put your guitar on your shoulder. I’ll tell you how to place yourself so that you can see your face. When you want. Carina adjusts the brightness of the projectors then activates to detach a lens from his tripod, making several shots in the vacuum to check the rendering. My eyes don’t leave Amelia, however: she takes her guitar out her holster, holster she poss a few meters away. She then moves from behind, at an equal distance between the gray panel, placed as a Wall for the photoshoot, and Carina setting her camera. She remains motionless for a few moments as if she hesitated; then she keeps her guitar in one hand and wrinkling of fabric makes me understand that she detaches the kimono that dresses it. The two pieces of fabric are shifting on both sides of her body. A shoulder motion from her then slides the fabric against her and she removes the first sleeve of this light garment. This side of the kimono falls well in her back and what appears before my eyes crisp me directly.

A bare shoulder. A halfback completely offered to my eyes… I stay fixed on this skin which is revealed.

Quickly she separates from the second sleeve, the guitar having changed hands… Carina approaches Amelia and retrieves the piece of fabric she leaves on cardboard at her side. Amelia stays behind for her part… and I feel almost uncomfortable in front of the image in front of me.

Amelia completely naked except for a skinny black shorty, shaping her buttocks. I try to react as professionally as possible but my eyes seem to decide in my place.

Enjoying the last centimeters of bareback. Lingering on a small of the back. Detailing perfectly designed buttocks. Browsing a line of legs unveiling a few meters from me.

I realize that I have just devoured eyes, the one that I have to protect… an attitude that is completely inappropriate but that I could not control. I look down instantly, feeling the effects of these few moments of distraction: a pulse that has accelerated, a heat that runs through me. When I look up, Amelia stalled her guitar behind her back and Carina is at her side, positioning Amelia’s face in profile and recalling her hair. - That’s it, don’t move anymore… Carina returns to a few meters, takes again her camera and the shots crackle quickly. - Ok, drop your look a little… Amelia fulfills and looks down at the floor, giving Carina the chance to make new shots. - Move your hair a little bit less disciplined… Amelia shakes her head slightly and I’m almost fascinated watching her hair come to life around her, slipping slightly behind her back and falling in front of her eyes… giving me an irresistible urge to put her hair back behind her ear. - Super honey, don’t move any more… open your mouth slightly… awesome, beautiful… Several flashes dazzle the room while Carina snaps away at Amelia for several moments. My eyes never leave Amelia… I reassure myself by saying that I’m only respecting one of the basic techniques of my work but a small voice deep inside me, blows me another reason, less respectable… A reason that I simply refuse to hear.

Thank you for reading 💛

[impossible-ancient]

Autumn Hunt

---Chapter Two---

-A Girl’s Name-

[Read Chapter One here: “Don’t Lose”]

{Exactly 2800 words}

             Loud rumbling is heard from a group of men running down wooden stairs.  Pratt steps to the side of the hallway to allow them to pass, since they seem to be in a hurry.  The one man in front with blond hair peeking out of a hood, stares back at Pratt on his way down the steps.  He and the others hold sniper rifles, but this man has two.  

“Are you Pratt, also known as ‘Peaches,’” the blond man asks the young deputy.

“Yeah.  That’s me.”

             The blond man tosses him a large .50 caliber sniper riffle.  Pratt analyzes its silver coating and it barely even has a scratch on it.  He turns around to look where they’re headed, and they all stop to stare at him.

“Well, come on,” the blond man nags with a thick southern accent.

             Pratt follows the group outside of the Veteran Center.  The sun is so bright that everyone squints their eyes.  It’s like that little stinging in your eye from the sun reflecting the morning snow, only it wasn’t winter quite yet.  

“Oh shoot,” the blond man says as he looks around him, “wrong exit.  I still get confused in this place.”

             Pratt tries to hide his laughing.  The same man begins to walk around the home towards the front of the building.  Behind the home is an open courtyard full of giant cages.  The group of men pass close by one of them and Pratt sees a woman asleep on the cold ground, with a bowl of meat scraps in front of her.  And, when the deputy looks around, he sees a man in another cage, sitting and facing the group.  The blond man and the others barely glanced at them.  Pratt slows his walking, faces the blond man again and asks, “why are these people trapped in cages like that?”

             He doesn’t stop walking.  His hooded head never turns around, but he quietly replies, “don’t worry about them dang sinner!”

             The group walks through a narrow walled-off alleyway on the side of the house, and finally reach the front driveway.  They approach a large red SUV with thick tires and the windows rolled all the way down.  The blond man tells Pratt to stand to the side for a few moments, and the other men begin to load equipment into the vehicle.  Pratt recalls the man with dark curly hair from earlier this morning, and that man pulls a cardboard box out of the trunk.  He yanks out a pocket knife from his pocket, opens the box, and pulls out a set of orange vests covered in plastic wrapping.  

“Oh shoot, Rick,” the blond man exclaims, “these huntin’ vests are brand new!”

             Pratt had no idea that anyone was planning on hunting today.  But he watches as the curly-haired Rick and the blond man open the rest of the bags, and they hand them off to the others.  Rick hands Pratt an orange vest and it smells like fresh plastic right out of the factory.  It’s Velcro pocket closings where met with a set of key rings on the sides.  Rick announces that Jacob will be joining them shortly, and that he’s finishing a conference call with his family.  Part of it could be heard over the intercom system by mistake:

“Can you even use a computer, Jacob?”

             The group of men look around as they hold in their laughter.

“If you’re going to invite the father,” one of Jacob’s brothers says, “then send…eh…Jacob…why is there an echo?”

             A rustling and a loud clicking noise soon followed.  The group of men chuckled as they look up towards the house’s second floor.  The poor man didn’t know how to even use half of the crap sitting in his office.  He usually just has someone make appointments and send emails for him.  

             A few minutes pass.  Jacob comes walking out of the Veteran Center towards the SUV, holding his red-painted sniper riffle in his pale scarred hands.  He now wears a dark gray and red vest with a few buckles on the sides, and his regular gray shirt beneath it.  His dog tags and lucky rabbit’s foot are somewhat visible through the partially zipped vest.

“Hello Jacob,” the group greets collectively as if he is their commander, which he technically is.

“I’m sure you guys heard my baby bro whining on the phone.  My mistake,” Jacob jokes.

             He then opens the driver door and steps to the side, letting Rick seat himself behind the steering wheel, before Jacob closes the door for him.  Jacob then opens the left rear door and a shorter man with a red hat hops in first. The blond man steps to the side and tells Pratt, “after you buddy!”  The deputy enters the back of the vehicle and shoves the rifle into any free space he could find, before the blond man hops in and shuts the door behind him.  Rick tells the group to sit their riffles against the seats, pointing downwards for safety reasons.  Jacob hops up into the passenger side.  His feet kicking the guardrails, and his long legs bending before closing the door.  The big man looks back with a short grin and shouts, “Ready for some good ol’ huntin,’ guys?”  The men in the car cheer loudly and Pratt joins in on it, only because he doesn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. The engine starts and the big SUV pushes forward in a rough jolt of an acceleration.  Rick slams the breaks and looks around.

“Woah,” Jacob shouts after keeping his head from flying forward.  He turns to look at Rick and stares at him for about five seconds, and then continues, “if you can’t drive a stick then you shouldn’t be up here, Rick.”

             Rick opens the door and offers up the driver’s seat to someone else.  He switches places with the man in the red hat and the SUV begins to move again, and much smoother this time.  They approach the main gateway to the Veteran Center and the four guards on the sides wave at them.  Jacob begins to go into detail about their destination: An open woodland area just off Clagett Bay.  The SUV drives on the blacktop road for quite some time, then rolls onto some harsh dirt and gravel trails.  Crossing old creaky bridges and crushing over sticks and dead logs, and the drive alone was a great start for this little outing.

“Hey Jacob, isn’t this where your old friend lives,” the blond man asks.

             Jacob looks back in his seat and from the corner of his eye, replying, “he’s not a friend anymore.  He hasn’t been for a while now.”

             Pratt looks at the visible side of Jacob’s seat in the front, and asks who he’s referring to.  

“Uncle…I mean…Eli.  He wouldn’t join the Project, so he started his own thing called the ‘White Tail Militia.’  Something like that.”

             The group silently looks around admiring the view of the woodland area, searching for Elk near the waters.  The open windows let in a rushing cold draft, but it’s scent of woodland pine sap was worth shivering.  Neither of the two guys up front ever bothered the radio.  Knowing Jacob, the radio would either play his favorite old tune, or be shut off completely.  He doesn’t care too much for the Sunday Church mix that his siblings kept on repeat all day long.  Pratt is always hesitant to start a conversation, fearing saying the wrong thing, or attracting the wrong kind of attention.  He’s extremely surprised that he isn’t in one of those cages, or even dead by now.  He is one of the marked enemies (or at least he was originally).  Maybe he’s beginning to gain some of Jacob’s trust, but he still senses that heavy barrier between them.  Yet, the deputy tosses out a quick kind word.

“Thanks for the shirt and vest, sir.”

“Yeah,” Jacob replies barely even paying attention, looking out of his open window for any wildlife.

             A voice comes from the driver’s seat calling out to Pratt.

“Hey man!  Hey,” the man calls out.  Pratt looks at him and then into his smiling dark eyes in the reflection of the rearview mirror.  He continues, “Muh name’s Rain.  Like ‘Rainfall.’”  Jacob and his group are actually sort of, well, kind.  Better yet, they seem to be fun to travel with.  But a paranoid Pratt doesn’t trust Jacob either.  

             A little more ways up the slope and the SUV finally rests its engine at the Clagett Bay Resting Area.  Everyone hops out.  Pratt looks around and waits for Jacob to be the last one to join the group.  He finds it strange that everyone barely even moves until Jacob either leads or commands them.  Jacob instructs the group of men to keep their orange hunting vests on at all time.  Next, he separates everyone into two groups.  

“Oh, my name’s Deveraux, by the way,” the blond man finally tells Pratt, “but just call me Dan.”  Both give each other a quick smile.  Jacob pairs Pratt with Dan while Rick and Rain go with Jacob.  There are to meet back here in 30 minutes whether they had caught anything or not.

“You guys be safe out there,” Rain tells them with a smile.  

             The two men go their own way along a dirt path, up and over hills.  Little feet patter with pebbles crunching under their shoes.  Dan wears a hoodie and utility belt with his dark cargo pants, that of an Eden’s Gate hunter.  But, today he carries a rifle like the rest of the gang.  The air up there is so cool and fresh this early in the morning.  The two climb over a huge log covered in vibrant green, damp moss.  Pratt steps back over to it just to observe the wavy brownish mushrooms along the rotted fallen tree’s side.  Dan turns around a few seconds later as he realized Pratt had stopped.

“Aye there,” he shouts and then walks over to Pratt, “Nah, I want you to be in my sight at all times. You seem like an alright guy, but Jacob wants me to keep an eye on ya.”

             Pratt nods his head in agreement.  The two men continue their trek.  Dan was no idiot.  He doesn’t know much about the deputy, and he’s not going to let Pratt out of his sight holding that sniper riffle either. They continue walking again side by side.  

“So, do ya like go to college or anything like that,” Dan asks Pratt.

“I graduated a few years ago actually,” Pratt replies.

             Dan looks around for any Elk or other fauna in the area, as he asks, “What kind of job ya got?”

             Pratt’s breathing gets heavier and his heartrate begins to quicken.  He quickly tosses out a lie that won’t have to come with more questions that he couldn’t answer:

“I’m a…helicopter pilot…tour…guide,” he hesitates to piece together.  Well, it was sort of true anyway.          

             The wind kicks up blowing Pratt’s un-moussed long hair into his face.  The two trek deeper into the woods kicking through dead leaves.  Dan spots one of those hexagonal hunting treehouses, which are the metal platforms high up in the trees.  They reach the rusted blue ladder and Dan let’s Pratt climb first. Both of them sit on the platform and wait for any sign of wildlife to enter the area, remaining alert with rifles in their hands.  Pratt notices Dan glance at a silver and bronze-plated wristwatch on his arm, before pulling his sleeve down.  He warns the deputy that they have about fifteen minutes before they needed to head back to the Rest Stop area.  The young deputy begins to ask Dan questions about his life in general, hoping that he can begin to understand why they had joined The Project at Eden’s Gate.

“Do you know who the Father is, Pratt,” Dan asks.

“I heard that he’s some sort of preacher.”

             Dan chuckles showing his teeth in a smile, turning his head and then looking up into the woodland canopy.  He shakes his hooded head, and then adds, “The Father is our light.  He opens our eyes and speaks the truth.”

“What about your life in general,” Pratt interrupts, having more interest in Dan than in their leader.

“I usually don’t piddle around in that,” Dan replies, “but since you asked; I used to be an electrician…slash…mechanic…slash, a few different jobs here and there.  I ain’t even 30 yet, and the Seed family offered me an early retirement if I work for them.”

“Doing what exactly?”

“I’m mainly a hunter and sometimes a cook,” Dan answers, “I get paid a few hundred for the week.”

             Pratt nods his head, and asks, “So, what does “the Father” do that the mayor can’t?”

             Dan tilts his head to the side, turns his body to face the deputy, and then smiles.  He begins counting his fingers one by one, and says, “Ain’t gotta pay for gas, ain’t gotta pay for any food in Jacob’s house, free water, no rent, barbecues every weekend, no bills, free cable, everybody got a job around here, which means no unemployment, free school for the little kids, John Seed represents you in court and even pays your hospital bills…”

             Pratt had to interrupt Dan just to get him to stop.

“But, what about those who don’t like him…those who disobey,” Pratt questions.

“The Father chooses those worthy.  He chooses those who must be cleansed.  And, if they cause any trouble…then they won’t be around anymore.”

             Something peeks its head through the shrubs on the ground.  The leaves rustle loudly.  It’s the head of an elk feeding and sniffing around.  Its hooves pattering around on the crunchy leaves.  Dan slowly picks up his sniper rifle and steadily aims it at the animal down below.  Pratt does the same.  The elk looks around and turns its head almost 180 degrees, as it checks for predators. Dan realizes something which causes him to hesitate.  He tells Pratt to put down his rifle.  The elk moves much slower than usual.

“Do ya see her belly? It’s swollen,” Dan tells Pratt, “she’s got babies.”

             The hunter sets down his rifle and instead of scaring it, he waits a few minutes until it wanders away.  The two men climb back down the ladder attached to the tree platform.  A black folded wallet falls from Pratt’s baggy plaid shirt pocket, slipping out from beneath his orange hunting vest.  He doesn’t even notice it as he walks back down the hill towards the SUV. Dan stops walking and picks it up and opens it.  The blond man doesn’t take anything, not that Pratt had any money anyway, other than $30 and a few commuter train one-week passes.  He reads Pratt’s driver’s license.  He then jogs to catch up to Pratt and begins walking with him again.  Pratt watches as Dan takes a cigar from a plastic gray bag in his pocket, before hearing the sharp clicking of the flickering lighter. Dan looks to Pratt on his right, and asks, “I got an extra if ya want one.”  Pratt kindly declines the offer.

“’Staci Pratt,’” Dan mocks as he begins to climb a steeper hill with the deputy, “that’s different.”

“What?”

             Dan makes a quiet wheezy chuckle and asks, “Ain’t that a girl’s name?”

             Pratt rolls his eyes but answers, “It’s like Casey or Kelly.  It can be either boy or girl.”

“I was just playin’ around with ya,” Dan jokes while handing the wallet back.

             When the two return to the SUV they see Jacob and Rain already there, with the windows rolled down, ready to go.  Rick had put the rifles in the trunk and waves to Pratt and Dan to hurry up.  The two men jog the rest of the short distance up the path.

“Did you guys catch anything,” Rick asks.

“We only saw a momma holdin’ babies,” Dan replies in a muffle with a cigar in his mouth.

“Nah, we can’t kill a momma elk like that.  It wouldn’t be right,” Rick replies, “We didn’t see anything out here either.”

             Rain hops back into the driver’s seat and starts up the SUV.  But then he begins to hum a tune.  Rick begins to sing that tune wording out, “Only You!”  And then, Dan soon after begins singing along.  Pratt smirks and looks at how silly the guys all look as they sing in the car.  They seem so playful like a family on a road trip.  Jacob looks behind his seat out of the corner of his eye.  And, when Rick and Dan sang one of the high notes, Jacob laughed and covered his mouth.  The deputy couldn’t believe it: Jacob Seed…just…laughed.

[archetypical-series]

The Princess Story - Part 7

Elizabeth had never seen anything quite like Deejay's ship before. Even the suggestion of a flying ship seemed incredible; seeing it in person was mind-boggling. From the outside, it looked to her more like an enormous egg than a ship. As it opened, the entire spherical craft split in half, revealing four chairs in rows of two nestled into the bottom half. Everything about the ship was alien to her, from the fabric of its seat cushions to the metals and plastics on the console, to the array of screens and buttons laid out across it. Deejay mentioned proudly that he had dubbed the ship the Scyphozoan. Even its name seemed impossibly complicated and foreign.

At his suggestion, Elizabeth kept her eyes closed for the entire journey, which by her reckoning couldn't have been more than an hour. They didn't speak much during that time, rocking and shuddering sounds from the ship filling the silence, but the sense of quiet anticipation made her all the more excited to see what their destination would be like. Still, she obligingly kept her eyes shut even after he informed her that they had landed back at the Tower, wherever that was. As the ship opened, Deejay carefully led her by the hand out of the cockpit and down a few steps. To get the full effect of the reveal, he led her a few more steps toward the guard railing at the edge of the platform where they had landed.

“Okay, open your eyes,” he said.

She did, and gasped in awe at the view. To her right, rolling desert sands stretched as far as the eye could see. As her gaze scanned left across the landscape, the sand was gradually broken up by large stone outcroppings, growing into a long mountain range on the horizon.

When she moved closer and leaned over the railing, she could just make out Esperanza, a tightly-packed group of buildings arranged in a semi-circular pattern, to the south-west. The town looked like a tiny city of ants from the top of the Tower, tens of thousands of feet above the ground. Deejay held his arm out proudly like a game show host introducing a showcase of fabulous prizes.

“Welcome to my world.”

“Amazing...”

He laughed. “Not bad, right? I know, it’s a little on the barren side right now...”

“It’s beautiful. The view from here is astonishing.”

“Yeah, I like it well enough. I'd still like to see some more greenery instead of endless sand and rocks, but that's me. Anyway, come on. Let’s go inside. I have a lot more to show you.”

Deejay took her hand again and led her to the elevator. She followed his lead and stepped inside. He tapped the button for his room, and Elizabeth barely had time to register the sensation of movement before the doors opened moments later. She peered through the door, her mind swirling with equal parts awe, confusion, and curiosity.

Not that Elizabeth would have realized, but Deejay's room bore an uncanny resemblance to a college dorm room, only a bit more spacious. There was a twin-size bed to their left, a simple wooden desk and chair to the right, the bathroom door just beyond that, dresser at the end of the bed, mini fridge beside that, and some beanbag chairs and open floor space in front of a large closet at the opposite end of the room. There was a laptop, some books and miscellaneous junk on the desk, and the plain eggshell walls were covered with various posters torn out of old magazines. Most of them featured classic rock bands, but there were a few anime wall scrolls mixed in for color. Deejay stepped inside and presented the room.

“Please come in, Your Highness. Welcome to my humble abode. I know, it’s nothing special, but it suits me well enough.”

She stepped forward slowly, the door silently closing behind her. She turned around in place, still trying to take it all in.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” she said with a playful smile. “It has a sort of simple charm. Not unlike yourself.”

“Hah. Don't flatter me too much. If my ego gets any bigger it's going to start leaking out of my ears.”

She giggled. “You say the strangest things. But I believe I understand your meaning.”

“Good thing somebody does. Please, have a seat.”

He gestured to the bed. The two of them sat down beside each other.

“Now, we’ll need to keep pretty quiet for a bit. At least until my brother goes out. He hates it when I bring people home like this without telling him. But I figure what he doesn't know can't hurt him.”

“Is that so?”

The elevator door opened suddenly, and Ty stepped out.

“Gah!” Deejay jumped in place, and wound up perching on the edge of the bed like a gargoyle. “Ty? Dammit, how do you do that?”

“Plot convenience. Also, I get an alert in the boardroom whenever the ship returns. I'm pretty sure you helped me set that up.”

Deejay nodded sheepishly. “That I did. Dammit, past me, why must you always screw over present me?”

Elizabeth frowned. “You shouldn't barge into someone's room unannounced like that. It's terribly rude.”

She looked at Ty disapprovingly. He returned the look, although that is kind of just how he always looks. Finally, he shrugged.

“Alright, I'm sorry. For the sake of our royal guest, I'll make an attempt to be more polite.” He made a show of clearing his throat and adjusted his tie, which was royal blue in this case. “It's so nice to see you again, Your Highness. I don’t think we were properly introduced last time. I’m Tyler, co-owner of the Tower and older brother of this troublemaker here.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Tyler.”

She stood and curtsied before sitting again. Deejay rolled his eyes and settled back into his seat.

“Tch. Older brother. You're seven minutes older. Are you gonna hold that over me our whole lives?”

“Of course I am,” Ty said. “It's older brother tradition at this point. So, why don't you tell me why you’re going behind my back and bringing Princess Elizabeth to the Tower? And let me tell you, if this story doesn’t involve slaying a dragon or winning some kind of jousting competition, I will be seriously disappointed.”

“Well… I just wanted to see her again, and I knew there was no way I could just walk right into the castle and visit her, so…”

Ty rolled his eyes, which I'm sure is a phrase I'm going to be saying a lot.

“So, as long as you were already ignoring our rules about getting involved with prominent political figures and exposing them to technology that won't exist in their world for hundreds of years, you thought, ‘what the hell? I might as well make a day of it and kidnap a princess.’”

“I'm not being kidnapped,” Elizabeth protested. “I wanted to leave with Sir Deejay. My father is the one who was being stubborn and refusing to let me leave the castle.”

“Does your father know where you are now?”

“No… not as such.”

“And have you ever run away before?”

“Well, no... Unless abandoning my royal guard in the market for a few minutes counts.”

“So the day after his daughter is attacked by enemies of the crown who want her dead, the king now finds that the same daughter has mysteriously disappeared from the castle. He has no reason to believe she ran away on her own, and no idea where she could have gone. What conclusion does that reasonably lead him to? Kidnapping.”

Ty started clapping sarcastically.

“Congratulations, Deejay. You’ve just pissed in the afternoon tea of the King of Zalaria. What are you going to do next?”

“Ty, you’re making too much of this. She hasn’t been gone that long. I doubt anybody there has even realized she's missing yet. And even if they do, how big of a deal could it be? As long as I bring her home safe-”

“Butterfly effect, Deejay. Have you ever seen a parent when their child is missing, even for a little while? It's bad enough when that parent isn't in command of a country's military. When they are...”

“What, you think I'm going to start a war or something? Her father's not that crazy overprotective. Right?”

Elizabeth hesitated. “...Actually, the words 'crazy overprotective' seem quite apt for him. He was already very upset over yesterday. If he found out I was missing again...”

“Alright, I kind of see your point.”

“Good.” Ty folded his arms (speaking of things I'm going to be saying a lot). “Now, you’re going to return her to the castle right away and make damn sure they have no idea she was ever missing. Is that clear?”

Deejay sighed. “Yeah, okay...”

He looked at her for a beat, searching for something to say, when suddenly his eyes lit up.

“Oh, wait! I just remembered, the ship's fuel cells are still drained from all the travel I did this week. They’re recharging now, but it probably won’t be ready to go until tomorrow morning.” Deejay pumped his fist victoriously in the air. “Hah! Looks like Elizabeth is gonna have to spend the night with me after all!”

“Hold on, how can it be drained? Didn't you just use it to pick her up a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, in hindsight that was a terrible idea. I had it in power saving mode and the ride back was pretty rocky.”

“I thought it was quite comfortable,” Elizabeth offered.

“But your main point of reference is the back of a wooden-wheeled vehicle on a cobblestone road. The ship's not supposed to feel like that.”

“It's not?”

Ty adjusted his glasses. “Wow. Okay yeah, if it's that bad we can't risk taking another trip right now. Damn... I’m sorry for the bother, Your Highness, but it looks like you’ll have to stay here until tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “Oh, it’s no bother at all. I would be happy to stay with Sir Deejay for the night.”

Deejay smirked and put his arm around her. Ty smirked back at him.

“Oh, Your Highness,” Ty said, “I wouldn’t dream of making a distinguished guest such as yourself share such a small room. We have a much larger, fully-furnished guest room a few floors below us for these kinds of occasions. You can stay there for the night. I think you'll find it much more comfortable.”

“Oh. Well thank you, Sir Tyler. That sounds wonderful.”

“Ty…” Deejay looked like a kid who'd just been told there's no Santa Claus. “You’re as cold as ice, man.”

Ty stepped back. “Well, now that that's settled, please allow me to show you to your room, Your Highness. If you’ll just follow me…”

He walked Elizabeth back to the elevator and they headed down, leaving Deejay sitting alone on his bed. He frowned and shook his head.

“Cold as ice...” He picked up a comic book off of his desk and started to flip through it, humming unconsciously. “...willing to sacrifice our love... You never take advice, someday- Aw great, now I've got Foreigner stuck in my head.”

[misspaigej]

My First Trip to Africa: Sierra Leone, Freetown - Kono

AFRICA

I constantly desired to go to Africa. Like most Afro-Americans, I grew up in an surroundings idolizing the whole lot, Africa. Once I got there, I comprehend I Knew nothing approximately Africa. My maternal grandmother made it clear that everything Africa is excellent. Granny did not, however, spend time disparaging the accomplishments of different cultures.

Growing up in Nicaragua's Latino and black cultures. And for me, there is no differentiating among these two ethnicities. Latinos are blacks, and black are Latinos. But this is not so for each person who finds choose with one group.

In Africa, these differences will amplify. Creating a surreal world in which an elite minority will treat different with detached. Sometimes stereotype can give an explanation for things If it turned into easy as black and white. However, things are seldom black or white.

STEREOTYPES

The standard stereotype can not explain Africa's ethnic variations; maximum people's look darkish to me, however they are variations; differences that go again for centuries. The Sierra Leoneans requested me regularly, "are you Nigerian," "American" or "Hausa," those usually got here up. Chief Morsay described Biko and me as "white." He told us that we're foreigners much like human beings with white skin. His index finger became rubbing the pinnacle of his hand for emphasis. When Afro-Americans do this in a conversation, we recognise that it's an impediment similar to "Whites Only." "You're not Africans," he stated. In Africa, it topics where you come from, or from what aspect of the river; within the case of the Congo's Bushong and the Lele ethnic group; what aspect of the river makes a distinction socially politically and financially.

But none of that changed into on my mind. I became excited to visit Africa. Relating to my grandmother's Afrocentric ideals; I wanted to look for myself the grandeur of the continent that launched civilization and the entirety that makes us stunning: The melanin, the curves, rhythm, the meals Loose Diamonds. A list of defense mechanism, my vanity used to combat the regular influx of American racist propaganda, where the whole lot is ready colour, and black is the colour that faints all hues.

RACISM

Consequently, racism is the lens thru which most Afro-Americans view the sector. It's not a distorting lens; for the most component, the lens is accurate; despite the fact that limiting. Focusing most effective on the only view. In a international where people find myriad of ways to segregate each other, racism makes this division feasible.

It is obvious that the Belgians of King Leopold II acted inside the maximum racist, inhuman way in the direction of the humans of the Congo. But in the long run Mobutu Sese Seko of the Ngbandi ethnic group arrested Patrice Lumumba of the Tetela ethnic group. I do not think that ethnicity become the cause for Mobutu Sese Seko transgression in the direction of Lumumba. Thomas Sankara and Blaise Compaoré, each are from the Mossi ethnic organization of Burkina Faso. But similar to King Leopold II, greed become the cause for Mobutu's treachery in the direction of Patrice Lumumba and the destruction of infinite Congolese lives. Compaoré did the same in Burkina Faso securing privileges for a ruling minority; keeping strength on the rate of Thomas Sankara and the humans of Burkina Faso. Using corruption, expropriation even overseas assistance to preserve electricity. With no country to answer to, these guys have been no one of a kind than King Leopold II inside the inhumane remedy in their countrymen.

In Sierra Leone, the (RUF) will put in force the equal, cutting off limbs and ad systematic rape and homicide; dispersing lots and enslaving the population to extract diamonds for his or her non-public wealth.

POVERTY

But poverty is a relative factor. Having grown up in the Caribbean and Latin America. I changed into conversant in 1/3 world fact. But none of this organized me for Africa.

THE TRIP

The extent on conversations goes up the nearer you get to the African departure living room. Things are direct. Laughter reinforced; the sucking of the teeth is loud, the grins big.

The plane landed in Lungi International airport to a remarkable chorus of cheers and applauses. Like a Hollywood emancipation scene, Africans are satisfied and thankful to be domestic. You can experience their excitement. I too turned into excited, to greet the African air. Stepping out of the aircraft, I located the humidity familiar. What turned into different, was to check out a crowd and seeing one coloration of black humans. I attempted now not to appearance surprised; I pretend I've been here before. The Africans looked at me like if I've been here earlier than too.

The tarmac and runway are big, like any airports. But at Lungi you don't see the buses, vehicles or the on foot tunnel protecting you from inclement weather. Everything is open and huge as the sky. I did not see industrial airplanes or business aircraft; simply empty tarmac with a much far away blue-green woodland horizon with out a homes in sight.

Walking into the slight immigration constructing become a marvel, no crowds! I notion this unusual for an worldwide airport. Somehow, I notion they might be connecting flights to the other part of Africa. Only the folks that could be boarding at the identical aircraft in course to Liberia. Right away as you enter the constructing, you notice a few old style booths with modern fingerprint popularity machines. Immigration officers had been smooth and short. They ask for passport and yellow vaccination card. Welcome to Sierra Leone!

The people of Sierra Leone are friendly; they may be beneficiant with their consolation quarter. They greet you, touch you lightly with a common custom.

Waiting for our luggage, I became attracted to 2 large, very wonderful, status wooden sculptures. Two action figures carved from a unmarried tree trunk. No one paid those any thoughts. They stroll via them like nuisance African memento. I constantly preferred the eye to detail of African artwork; there's a consideration for the viewer, the wearer, and dealing with of artifacts. This affiliation of welcoming artistically with dance, texture, food and shades became for me African arts functionality.

Although very outstanding, I did no longer understand at the time; the ones  wooden sculptures will constitute the fruits of my African artistic affect.

Leaving the airport, we see a signal with our names. Our host Chernor, we call him Cherry, set up to have Lamin greet us and arrange the bus tickets so that it will take us to the seashore and the ferry to Freetown. Lamin works for a organisation that assists travelers to Sierra Leonne. Having someone at the floor that speaks, Krio become calming. Krio is a higher bargaining language; exchanging money is aggressive, some notes have preferences. So there may be room for saving if you can good buy in Krio.

Outside, they are younger guys promoting bus tickets along side Sim Cards. They're aggressive, but now not pushy. There's plenty of coins in sight constantly changing arms. We look ahead to the air circumstance mini buses to fill with passengers. The ferry isn't far away, approximately a mile. But it takes about ten minutes power to get there. The street is incorrect; I idea that this being the manner to the airport it is probably in higher care, however no. It become just the begging of the many examples of forget and corruption that the people of Sierra Leone live with each day.

The seaside is huge and smooth; I note this due to the fact anywhere else seems to be litter with debris. I see some modest swiftly constructed shanties. I changed into looking for colorful fishing boats but did no longer see any. They're small children, gambling with torn and dirty western clothes. They paid us no thoughts. At this time the little wharf was full of the passenger from the plane, awaiting the ferry; bags and people below a timber hut, with an armed protect. We waited for several hours. It could be sunset before they referred to as our numbered tickets, the small ferry made several journeys transporting us appropriately to Freetown.

The boat trip takes less than an hour to pass the ocean estuary arriving in Freetown at night time. The view turned into dark with out a identifying capabilities to look. Inside, our host Cherry and his driver Mohamed are there waiting. They picked us out of the group right away before absolutely everyone offers to assist. Lamin had despatched images. Cherry made certain that Mohamed receives our bags. Cherry greeted us with a big smile, glowing eyes, on a vibrant spherical friendly face. He right now asked us approximately the flight and are we hungry. He said he has cook dinner meals home, "it is probably too highly spiced for us," he stated. So if we adore, we will go out to get some meals. We opt for the spicy food; it became very late for our jetlag bodies to go out. The streets in Freetown, at nighttime, are jammed full of vendors selling everything. None of it looks appealing to me. Freetown just does not appearance easy. And this is a wonder. A Big marvel!

We left the wharf on a two-lane paved road lit with occasional street lamps. Mohamed is focused on his challenge even as Cherry does the speaking. I'm satisfied he is. The road maintains getting crowded the closer you get to town. They're lots of small children out selling stuff, anything. I see plenty of bake excellent and fruits. Everything seems lease. Things experience extraordinary, anachronistic, a chunk out of area, like if I've traveled lower back in time. The people don't appear concerned approximately the traffic. The avenue is abuzz with African track. And the human beings are simply moving with purpose in what looks like a chaotic order.

GODRICH

We tour on paved roads all the manner up to College Road in Godrich. Then we turn proper. And Mohamed slows to a move slowly; the street now unpaved becomes a series of hills and gullies slowly main up to the subsequent turns, like the bus ride from Lungi to the seashore. There will be extra moments like this. Mohamed is trying not to have the lowest of the car drag on a hill, patiently he turns. Like if he has executed this lots of time.

CHERNOR'S HOME

The vehicle got here to a prevent at a big metallic door, about 10 ft high. Surrounded by means of fencing simply as high with damaged bottles cemented at the pinnacle. We're three turns off the main avenue, some of the houses have this barrier. A lot do not; a few houses are simply packing containers of corrugated scraps steel wooden and cardboard prepare. There is a feel that Freetown turned into now not always like this. These dwellings bare the scars and the remains of political corruption and a vicious, inhumane civil battle.

At Cherries domestic, he introduces us to his uncle Mohamed, his sister Mimona and his "House Boys." Cherry has  "House Boys" and a "House Girl." At first, I concept he turned into speaking approximately his kids, however no, that's what they call the servants or assist. Although they may be extra than servants, they need to be endorsed by way of a member of the family. They call you "Sa" like yessa. Like I said, It appears like you're lower back in time.

Mimona placed a big bowl of "krain krain," at the desk. Cassava leaf pounded and shredded with warm peppers introduced to the pot of fish and boiled Jazmine rice at the side. It become hot; they had a great snicker looking our faces get shiny. Although very highly spiced, it turned into scrumptious. The rice become helpful calming the krain krain's warmth. We needed something to drink. Small luggage muddle Sierra Leone. This night time while eating hot Krain Krain we have brought these ubiquitous waterbags. According to the water task "Infections and parasites, maximum located in contaminated water, cause the largest motive of dying in Sierra Leone."

After a completely long adventure, the mellow dance of Mosquito Smoke Coils, I changed into feeling tired. I wished a bathtub. Reacquainting myself with these norms of the Caribbean and Latin America: The open shower and cold water. Making certain now not to drink the water from the pipes all through my bathe. I went to sleep in Africa.

The next day I noticed lots of children a few in uniform. The faculties are out early for the infants. Education in Sierra Leone is legally required. But a scarcity of faculties and instructors has made implementation impossible the by-product of corrupt institutions plaguing this kingdom. I saw a collection of three taking walks on the street with a basket on their heads. They appearance five or six, too small to be on foot in a hectic metropolis by themselves.

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed (part 3)

Word Count:  3.3k Relationship:  Lucien/Cassian Characters:  Lucien, Cassian, Nesta, Mor Warnings:  Just some regular ole Sadness in this chapter

Here on AO3.

(Tagging @squaddreamcourt so you don’t miss this one! :) )

__________________

They were finally there, and Lucien wouldn’t get out of the truck.

“No,” he said flatly, head back against the seat. “No, Cass, okay?”

“Come on, Lu,” Cassian said, exasperated. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“Fuck off, Cassian.”

Cassian studied the other man through the open window. Body limp, as if he’d been tossed into the vehicle by someone who didn’t both to arrange his limbs properly. Eyes staring straight out the windshield. Mouth set in a line – Lucien’s normally thin lips, quick to smirk or snark, were almost invisible.

“It’s just the library, Lucien,” Cassian said quietly.

“Maybe I’ve become suddenly and dramatically allergic to paper. Ever thought of that?”

Cassian paused, then slowly went back around to the driver’s side of the truck and got in.

They sat that way – both looking forwards, neither acknowledging the other – for nearly fifteen minutes.

Lucien was the first one to crack, letting out a long, shaky breath. “Sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry,” Cassian said. “I should’ve listened to you the first time. Forgive me?”

Lucien nodded. “Yeah.”

Cassian glanced at him. “Is it… a job in general? Or libraries in particular? Or…”

“Both,” Lucien said after a moment. “My dad – my birth dad –” Cassian shifted, but didn’t ask him to clarify. “– has a thing with libraries. But more than that…” He paused to brace himself. “What if I can’t get a job? If I’m not qualified, or not what they want, or just not – enough?”

“Then we’ll find you a different one,” Cassian said. “All sorts of morons get jobs. Hell, all sorts of morons run this city, and yes, I include Rhys in that count. The question really is, do you want to try?”

Lucien stared out the windshield, russet eye blank.

“It doesn’t have to be today.” Cassian had just taken Lucien to therapy for the third time, and he knew the other man could be a bit… vulnerable afterwards. He should’ve remembered this – should’ve planned accordingly – but he’d been too excited about his idea. There was just something about Lucien that occasionally made him lose his mind utterly, which he also should’ve remembered.

“No. Today isn’t that much worse than any other day would be.” Lucien exhaled again, like he was reminding himself to breathe. “Just… give me a minute.”

Cassian nodded, pulling out his phone. He’d come to realize, even in the short time he’d known Lucien, that this happened a lot – gaps of silence that the other man seemed to need to catch up. Slow down. Get centered. Cassian didn’t really know which. Cassian was already used to filling these spaces with silent tasks. He’d read, or watch MMA videos with one headphone in, or text his brothers to tell them when he was free to get drinks. Lucien didn’t mind. He appreciated it, in fact – it allowed them communion without Lucien feeling like he was taking over Cassian’s life.

“All right,” Lucien said, sitting up in his seat.

Cassian turned off his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They both got out of the truck, Cassian locking the doors behind them, then headed across the parking lot to the library.

It was an oddly incongruous building, even in the mainly-residential area where Cassian spent most of his time. It was all sharp, elegant angles on the outside: crystal-clear windows and navy blue accents and LIBRARY printed in large, serifed letters over the front door. But once they got inside, Cassian thought as they walked through the heavy glass doors, it was very different. The walls were painted a comforting peachy-pink, and Cassian knew from experience that as long as you behaved and treated the books well, there were little nooks with rocking chairs and beanbags where you could stay for as long as you wanted. It was a haven, and had been as long as he remembered. He often saw homeless people, both men and women, sleeping at the worn wooden tables, and there were always a few tired adults printing out coupons for cat food or lugging their young children to storytime in the warm, brightly-lit basement. Once you got past the austere exterior, it was a place of safety.

It was, Cassian thought, not unlike the woman who worked there.

“Nesta,” he said, a smile spreading across his face as they approached the circulation desk.

The brown-haired woman, who looked to be in her late thirties, examined Cassian over the top of her glasses. “Cassian,” she said shortly.

He leaned against the desk, bracing his forearms on the surface. “C’mon, Nes, aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Not until you’ve paid your fines,” she said, turning a page in her book.

Cassian’s smile fell. “Damn. I forgot all about that. How much?” He dug in his pockets, pulling out his wallet.

“Six dollars and twenty-two cents,” Nesta said without looking up.

Cassian counted out the cash and placed it on the desk. “Now are you glad to see me?”

Nesta gathered up the money, counted it twice, put it in the register nearby, then typed something into the computer. Finally, she looked up, taking off her glasses and closing them with a small click. Her blue-grey eyes took both of them in, and the corner of her mouth quirked slightly. “Let’s go with that I don’t object to your presence. Who’s your little friend?” She pointed at Lucien with her glasses.

“This is Lucien,” Cassian said, stepping back to stand beside him.

“Nes? Who’re you talking to?” A lovely woman with blonde hair going grey at the roots and warm brown eyes strode out of the back office. She was wearing a sharp business suit. Her face tightened as she took them in. “Lucien Kelly. What are you doing here?”

Lucien looked vaguely ill. “I should go,” he muttered, turning as if to leave.

“Wait,” Cassian said. “Mor? A word?”

Mor waited until the door to Nesta’s office was closed before exploding – quietly. “What the hell, Cassian?” she hissed.

“I could ask you the same,” he snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. Listen. I know you haven’t spent a lot – any – time with him, but it’s not what you think. Feyre brought him with her because he was a victim of Tamlin’s abuse just as much as she was. I don’t know his whole story, but he’s gone through some shit, and he needs a fresh start.”

Mor tapped the toe of her shoe lightly on the carpet as she thought. Finally, she ran a hand through her hair, raised her eyes to heaven, and nodded. “You know I’d never deny a trauma victim help,” she said. “And I suppose as long as Feyre’s forgiven him…”

“She has. He’s been living with her and Rhys, actually.”

“Which he didn’t bother to tell me about,” Mor added in a grumpy sort of voice.

Cassian smiled. “You sound like Nes. She’s rubbing off on you.”

Mor’s face softened at the mention of her wife. “Well, we have been married nearly ten years. I should hope so.”

“Just give him a chance, Mor,” Cassian said softly. “Please. For me.”

Mor nodded. “I will. Can’t promise anything about Nesta, though.”

“Oh, I think they’ll get along swimmingly,” Cassian said, pushing the door back open and heading out from behind the desk.

“Who will?” Nesta asked, one finger marking her place in her book.

“You and Lucien,” Cassian said. “Seeing as he’s applying for a job here.”

Nesta’s gaze snapped to Lucien. “You are, are you?”

Lucien shifted slightly. “I was hoping so. Are there… forms I can fill out, something like that?”

Nesta sighed, flipped through a folder, and handed him a few sheets stapled together. “Get this back to me by the end of the day today,” she instructs. “And I’ll consider it.”

“I won’t have any references.”

“You have Cassian,” Nesta remarked. Something like a smile crossed her face. “In terms of character, at least, I trust his word. You’ll have to prove the rest of it.”

“Thanks,” Lucien said. “Cass… do you mind if…?” He gestured to the forms.

“Not at all. Here – I’ll show you someplace to fill them out.” Cassian grabbed a pen from the desk, winked at Nesta (who scowled at him), and led the way deeper into the library.

“So,” Lucien said, following Cassian through the shelves.

“So,” Cassian agreed.

“Nesta seems… nice.”

“She warms up to you,” Cassian said.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“For what seems like forever,” he replied. “She worked here as a volunteer when I was a kid. She was just a teenager herself, then, but she’d keep an eye on me when I’d sleep at the tables, you know? Make sure no one disturbed me…”

“You…” Lucien sounded startled.

Cassian glanced over his shoulder. “I was homeless, on my own, from when I was about five to a few months after I turned nine,” he said baldly. “That’s when Rhys and his mom came into the picture. Spoiled little rich kid that Rhys was, he saw me on the street and asked in that snotty way he still has sometimes why I was so dirty. Obviously, I punched him in the face.”

Lucien’s eye widened. “What happened?”

Cassian laughed a little. “His mom broke us up before either of us could do anything but give each other bloody noses and a black eye apiece. She asked me if I had anywhere to sleep. I said no. She asked if I wanted one. I said yes.” Cassian turned away from Lucien again. “She… I was part of their family from then on. Just like that,” he said, blinking away the sudden sting of tears in his eyes. He’d thought fifteen years would make it hurt less. He’d been wrong.

“What… if you don’t mind talking about it,” Lucien ventured after a moment. “What happened to her? Rhys said his parents were dead.”

“Leukemia,” Cassian said softly. “When Rhys and I were fifteen and Azriel was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassian stopped at the feeling of Lucien’s cool hand on his arm. “Cass?”

“Yeah?” He turned and looked at the other man.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Lucien said. “And a wonderful mother.”

“She was.” Cassian swiped a quick hand across his face. “Here’s the place.” He sank into a nearby beanbag chair, leaving Lucien the cushioned chair before the table. “Take your time filling out the application. If I know Nesta, it’s long and complicated.”

“Right.” Lucien sat down and started filling in blanks, but then put the pen down. “So that’s Nesta. And Mor… knows me already.”

“She knows of you,” Cassian corrected. “She’s Rhys’s VP – they’re good friends. She would’ve heard about you from him or Feyre.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t think she’d react like that. I didn’t think she’d even be here.”

Lucien propped his chin in one hand, balancing his elbow on the edge of the table. “I’m not really surprised. I can’t blame her. I… I let Tamlin abuse Feyre for months and turned a blind eye.” He tapped his cheekbone over his scar. “She was sick. She was my friend, and she was sick, and hurting, and I did nothing about it. She was right – what she said to me in that alley. I gave up on her.”

Cassian looked up sharply. Lucien’s skin had a pasty hue to it, and he looked like he was going to be sick. Immediately, Cassian got up and sat in the chair next to Lucien. “Lu?”

Lucien shook his head, eyes blind. “I told her not to take me with her,” he said hoarsely. “I told her… to leave me there…” His hands dropped into his lap. They were trembling.

“Lucien.” Very slowly, Cassian reached out and touched the backs of Lucien’s hands. “Listen to me. You’re here in the library. You’re safe. And it is not your fault.”

Lucien’s breath shuddered in his throat. He didn’t respond.

Cassian let the warm weight of his palms cover Lucien’s hands, which were splayed like he wasn’t aware of their presence. “Lucien,” he said again. “Tamlin hurt you, too. What he did isn’t your fault.” He swallowed, then, “You deserve to be safe. You deserve to be happy. And you deserve to have your own life. That’s why you’re here.”

Then he waited.

It was a long, long moment before Lucien’s eyes met his.

“What do you need?” Cassian asked.

“Just – just stay here for a minute. Like this. With your hands on mine,” Lucien whispered. His head tipped forward as if his neck couldn’t support it.

“Okay.”

Cassian didn’t know how long they sat there. He felt as if he could’ve sat there forever, with his hands resting on Lucien’s and the other man’s head bent, red hair falling in a curtain around his face. It was like a dream. They were both so quiet, he thought he could hear Lucien’s heartbeat. It sounded, in his head, like the whir of a hummingbird’s wings. Like when you listened to a baby’s heartbeat on an ultrasound and you couldn’t identify single beats – just a constant a-whoosh a-whoosh a-whoosh, as if the baby’s heart was beating so fast everything ran together. That’s what Lucien’s heart would sound like, Cassian thought. Quick as his tongue. Vulnerable as his soul.

Eventually, Lucien’s breath quieted, and he lifted his head. “Thanks,” he said, eyes still lowered.

“Hey. No problem,” Cassian said with a small smile. “Anytime.” He took his hands away, but immediately missed that point of contact. It felt like breaking a circuit – disconnected and wrong.

“I’ll, um, finish filling this out, then,” Lucien said, picking up his pen once more.

“Only do it if you want to,” Cassian told him. “I – you know, I didn’t ask if you wanted to work here, really. I won’t be offended if you want to try somewhere else.”

Lucien shook his head, pushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind one ear. “No, I like it here,” he admitted. “It’s quiet. Organized. And I like books. I haven’t read a lot lately, and I’d like to start again.”

“What about Nesta?”

That actually drew a smile out of him. “I like her, too.”

“After one meeting?” Cassian leaned back in his chair with a laugh. “It usually takes people at least five to warm up to her at all. And most give up before then.”

“No, really,” Lucien said. “I mean, sure, she’s prickly, maybe even ornery, but she’s…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to find a suitable word.

“Safe,” Cassian said quietly.

Lucien turned to him. “Yeah. Safe. How… did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“That this would be a good place for me.”

Cassian considered that, tipping his chair back on two legs. “Lucky guess?”

“Well – thanks. I owe you. Assuming I get the job.”

“As I said the other day, friends can do favors for each other,” Cassian said firmly. “If you really want to do me a favor in return, you can cook me dinner sometime. Rhys and Feyre have that nice kitchen, I’m sure they’d –”

“I can’t cook,” Lucien interrupted.

Cassian let his chair’s legs fall back to the floor with a thump. “When you say you can’t cook,” he began, “do you mean –”

“I can’t even crack an egg, Cass,” Lucien said, tone ironic. “I mean, I could microwave you a pizza, but I don’t think that’s exactly what you had in mind.”

“There’s only one solution to this, obviously,” Cassian informed him, leaning forwards and raising a single finger. “I have to teach you to cook.”

Color rose sharply in Lucien’s cheeks. It would’ve been hard for Cassian to believe he’d looked so sick a few minutes ago, if not for the lingering tremor in his hands. “I thought the point was for me to do something nice for you.”

“You will,” Cassian said with a grin. “You’ll give me an excuse to, one, make food for people, which is one of my favorite pastimes; two, teach someone something, which is my other one; and three, make sure you’ll never starve if you’re equipped with a stove, a frying pan, and an uncracked egg. You know the saying. Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish…”

“I already know how to fish,” Lucien informed him, his cheeks still rather pink.

“You do?” Cassian said. “You never cease to surprise me, Lu.”

Lucien smiled at that. “I camped a lot when I was younger. I, um, taught myself to catch trout in the streams.” He paused. “With my bare hands.”

“Lucien,” Cassian said, genuinely impressed. “That’s some Mulan shit right there. I’m impressed, bro.”

Lucien ducked his head to hide his growing smile. “One of my few talents. Along with charming business moguls and arranging flowers.”

“All right, then if I ever need any flowers arranged, you’re the man I’ll call,” Cassian said. “And you can teach me the fish-catching thing sometime. Deal?”

“Deal,” Lucien agreed. “How do you know how to cook, anyways?”

“Rhys’s mom made sure we all knew how to do that kind of stuff. Cook, clean, do our own laundry. She didn’t want us to be…” Cassian trailed off uncertainly. “…dependent on anyone.”

“Makes sense,” Lucien said with a sigh. “You can see where that gets you. Twenty-six, unemployed, and living in your friend’s apartment.”

“Not unemployed for long,” Cassian reminded him, tapping the application. “You done with that?”

“Yeah, almost.” Lucien bent over the forms again. After a moment, though, he straightened up again. “Why the hell does she want me to say what my favorite food is?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s so if she finds any food stains in her books, she can identify the culprit,” Cassian said. “I think she started that a couple years ago after an employee left boysenberry jam all over her favorite copy of On the Back of the North Wind.”

Lucien shrugged and started writing. Cassian craned his neck, but he couldn’t read Lucien’s spiky handwriting upside down.

“Would you like to see?”

Cassian started, his neck heating, to find Lucien smirking at him. “You seem curious. Here.” He flipped the paper around.

Apple pie, Cassian read. “I would’ve thought you’d like some neo-vegan crap.”

Lucien pulled the papers back towards him and started writing again. “I’m vegetarian, not vegan, Cass,” he reminded the other man. “Also, just because I don’t eat meat, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy food.”

“Wait.” Cassian narrowed his eyes. “You said you caught fish.”

Lucien flushed, glancing up. “Guilty. Fish is different. Sometimes I’m a pescatarian?”

Cassian laughed. “I’m not judging you. So, hypothetically, if I cooked salmon sometime, would you eat it?”

“Probably,” Lucien admitted. “My doctor says it’s good for me to get whatever good oils and stuff are in fish.”

“And also you like it.”

Lucien glared at him. Cassian just lifted his eyebrows, so he sighed. “Yes. And also I like it.” He put down his pen. “There. Application complete.”

“Awesome.” Cassian checked his watch, stood up, and stretched. “Back to the circulation desk, and then do you want me to drop you off at Feysand’s before my class at four?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucien stood up as well. “Let’s go.”

 It wasn’t until Cassian stopped the truck in front of Rhys and Feyre’s place that Lucien asked, “Cass? Do you really think I could get that job?”

“Yeah,” Cassian said. “And not just because I’m your friend. I really do.”

“We’re not friends,” Lucien said automatically, but he was smiling all the way up to the door, when he turned and waved at Cassian before the other man drove away.

[insomniac-arrest]

You Don’t Have to Smile Like you Used to

@lapidot-week

Day1: Water/magnetism

Peridot uses her powers to cheer Lapis up

“Lapiiiis,” Peridot cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered into the empty barn air, “Lazuuulii.”

She checked behind their broken toilet art, she wasn’t on the smaller-than-average-lake and then made sure for a second time she wasn’t just on the roof.

Peridot takes a deep breath and calls from the bottom of her chest, “LAPPIIIS.”

She finally hears a small grunt from the hayloft, Peridot blinks and spouts a wide smile, she runs across the room and scampers up the ladder without missing a beat.

“Oh,” She gives a sharp laugh as she finds a distinct lump under a tarp, “There you are.” She lifts up a blue tarp they had a snagged from off a ‘pool’ a little back for a project. For the life of her Peridot couldn’t remember what the project was for

Lapis was lying curled on her side with her back toward Peridot, her head bent down into her arms and hair fanning out on the wooden floor. Peridot crawled under the tarp, feeling the gritty dirt under her palms and wrinkling her nose, she lowers herself to Lapis’s level.

“Steven took a trip to the store and I have discovered something referred to as ‘Crazy Glue!” She cheers and kicks her feet in the air as she lay on her stomach. “And while I can’t speak to the mental state of the substance, I think you’ll agree with me when you find it quite agreeable.” She grinned and waited for Lapis to turn over from her nap.

Lapis took a long slow minute to respond, Peridot watched her shoulders rise and then her body unfold onto the floor, stretching on her on her stomach with her head finally turning to Peridot. Her eyes were little blank pools of blue.

“Mm’not feeling great.” She mumbled and then put her face back into the musty barn floor.

Peridot stuck her lip out and considered showing Lapis the thrills of ‘Crazy Glue’ right then and there. And then heard Steven’s voice in the back of her head, just a little bit.

She takes a deep breath, “Oh,” She pats Lapis’s shoulder, “It’s one of those days. That’s okay.”

Lapis face turns just slightly so a crescent is showing, she almost have a smile, “Whatever. Go have fun with Crazy Clue.” Peridot looked around, back to the barn floor, and then back to Lapis who was rolling over to pull her legs close to her body again.

Peridot hummed to herself, “It’s probably already dry now.” She sniffs, “I could just stay here.” She grins, “Until you feel better.” Lapis snorts and shifts in place, “Okay. But I’m kicking you out if you say anything.” Peridot flares her nostrils but nods her head anyway, “Peridot’s are known for their silence.” That got Lapis to at least a laugh out of her, a short heady noise that made Peridot give a small smile.

Peridot let the tarp drop over them, a dark quiet overtaking the small space. She lay next to Lapis and listened to her breath, she liked to breathe like humans did.

Peridot managed to stay quiet for the hours to come.

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

“Steven!” Peridot ran down the hill as fast as her legs could take her, a little unbecoming but it got the job done. Steven was wearing a pair of green patterned pants and black dashes under his eyes, he was holding a large fly swatter.

“Peridot,” He says, blinking as she ran down the bright hill, “What are you doing out here?” They were in the fields a few leagues away from Beach City, Peridot threw her hands in the air indignantly, “Looking for you!”

Steven frowned and looked around, “Peridot, we’re tracking a corrupted gem.” He leaned forward, “You can come if you want but it’s gonna get dangerous.” He holds his fly swatter high in the air.

Peridot shook her head and balled up her fists, “Who cares about another corrupted gem? This town is lousy with them! We have real problems.” Steven’s eyes go wide, “Real problems?” Steven’s voice gets high and lowers his arms, “Is it the cluster? Did you pick up something?” Peridot shook her head fervently. “Worse!”

Steven grabbed her shoulders, “What is it?” Peridot frowned and hung her head, “Lapis is sad.” Steven knitted his brow together and his shoulders released, “Well, I mean, that’s okay. She’s like that.” “I know!” Peridot threw her hands in the air.

“I told you,” Steven patted her arm, “She just gets sad sometimes. Give her room.” He smiles, “She’ll be okay.” Peridot pouted and crossed her arms across her chest, “I know, I know...It’s just, it’s been a long time Steven! The other ‘sads’ were quite as long.” She says emphasizing the new aspect of this.

“Aw,” Steven’s mouth became a little ‘o’, “You care about her.” Peridot put her hands on her hips and glowered, “Of course I care about her.” She looks around and scuffs her foot on the grass, “I live with her.”

“You want her to feel good.” He coos and grins at her far too widely.

“Erg,” Peridot tears at her own hair.

“Awww, that’s so sweet.” Steven looked about ready to pinch her cheek, Peridot stepped backward.

“I don’t need all this, I need to know what I can do.” She gestures in the air, “You’re good at this.”

“Um,” Steven scratched his neck and then looked around, “I’m supposed to be on a mission right now, buuut,” He shifted around and then whipped out a piece of paper from his backpack. “One sec.” Steven got onto his knees and started scribbling on it and Peridot hummed and nodded her head along, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, a ‘bubble bath’ you say.” She didn’t understand half of it.

Steven got back up and handed her the list, “Here all the things I do to cheer up.” He smiles, “Maybe ask if she wants to do any of these.” Peridot’s eyes scan the words, her eyebrows furrowing. “Okay, but what’s a cho-” “Ah!” Peridot jumps as a loud sound comes from the distance.

Steven takes out his shield, “That’s Pearl!”

“Okay, but chocolate.” “I’ll be back!”

Peridot watches him run off and she continues to stare blankly at her list of nonsense items and narrow her eyes. “Alright.”

Peridot goes back to the barn (and not just because explosions had started).

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

Peridot searches the barn, it was becoming more like an irritating game of hide ‘n’ seek around their place lately, when the tarp and aqua tank are empty she turns to the grounds.

“Lapiiis!” Peridot tries again, she might as well. The sound of her voice might work to cheer Lapis up already.

She was going through the corn stalks when she heard barking, Peridot followed the noise to where Veggiehead was yapping and running around in circles.

She raises her eyebrows, “What are you on about?”

Then she sees two blue feet sticking out from under the tractor, Peridot lifts her eyebrows even higher, she gets down on her knees, “Lapis?”

Lapis was lying on her back under the tractor, presumably staring up at a complex exhaust system. Peridot pokes her foot. “What, uh, what are you up to?” Lapis gives a long-put-upon-sigh, the sound of a ship's engine going out after one too many flights or a puff of breeze losing momentum. Peridot gulps.

“Nothing. Hanging out.” Lapis finally says, her whole body motionless and still. Peridot lies on her back next to her, but not under the tractor since she thought it might be overkill.

“You want to um,” Peridot fumbles for the list, but ends up staring upward, “Fly?” She asks as she looks at the pale blue sky. She grins, “You love flying!”

There is a very stiff moment between them as Peridot waits for her fantastic idea to take root, Lapis just sighs again. “I don’t feel like flying.” She says in a small voice, “Even if I wanted to. I don’t think I have it in me.” Lapis rolls over, unsettling some dust and turning her back to Peridot,

A long silence stretches between them and Peridot reaches toward her a little helplessly. “Lazuli…”

“You don’t have to coddle me.” Lapis sniffs, “Go do Peridot things. Fix something. Scream off the top of the roof, I don’t care.”

Peridot frowns and shifts in place, “Would that cheer you up? You can watch me scream off the roof!” She grins and rounds the tractor so she was facing Lapis’s face, “It’ll be fun!”

Lapis blows air out her nose and puts her arms above her head languidly, “Are you that bored without me?” “Yes!” Peridot says stridently, stomping her foot on the ground softly. Lapis looks at her and studies her face, Peridot steps closer, trying to get her point across. “It’s not...as good without you.” She says reluctantly, “With no fighting. Or moping. Or being Lapis somewhere.” She hunches her shoulders.

Lapis bunches herself up, gathering herself entirely under the tractor, “Peridot...I don’t even feel like flying. I won’t be any fun, let me be.” “You don’t have to be fun.” Peridot was yanking at her hair, she searches her person again and finally finds Steven’s list. Her eyes go wide, “If you don’t feel like…” She gnaws on her lip, piecing it together in her head, “Wait here!”

She waves at Lapis and runs the other direction through the corn, Veggiehead comes barking and panting behind her, she hopes Lapis doesn’t go anywhere.

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

It took Peridot the whole rest of the day, but she wanted to make sure it worked. She was just going to use the one logged in the barn wall, but that might have accidently made the whole place fall down.

She enlisted Steven’s ‘dad’ for help who asked a neighbor, who asked some other kin who eventually brought an old battered vehicle around.

Gregg scratched his head as Mr. Something-or-Rather helped push the thing toward them, “I’m not sure what use you’ll have for this Peridot.” Gregg said, “It doesn’t really go.” “That’s okay,” Peridot said, standing fully upright, “Peridot’s have their ways.” “Well alright,” He reluctantly lets her have the new junkyard car. “I have seen you guys do a lot of things.” Peridot manages to get it back just after the sun had set.

She was huffing and panting as floated it down and was relieved to see Lapis was on the roof, drooping like a daffodil about to fall off the stem. At least she didn’t have to look for her again.

Lapis arches an eyebrow silently as Peridot waves at her from in front of her an angry red truck (though it might have been rust).

“LAPI-”

“What’s that?” Lapis cuts her off before she can call her name.

“Come down, come down.” Peridot says excitedly as she jumps up and down and waves her arms. “I’ve been practicing. It’s all ready.” Lapis was like a nervous land mammal as she watched and frowned slightly, seeming to access the situation.

Eventually, eventually, after something that might have been described as a ‘wail’ from Peridot, Lapis creeps down the roof and back to the ground, notably, using a ladder instead of wings.

She comes to the ground and folds her arms across her chest, “What?” She says flatly.

Peridot waves her arms in the air, “Ta-da!”

Lapis looks around and then back down, “Another, what is it, truck?” She asks as she points to their own truck lodged in the front of the barn.

Peridot rolls her eyes, “Come around, you’ll see, come on.” She guides her to the back of the truck and helps her up into the little cargo bed.

Lapis blinked several times and looks at Peridot’s arrangement: a pile of blankets and pillows with a set of bought goods in a basket and the first musical instrument she found on the way (Gregg called it a ‘recorder’).

“Ta-da,” Peridot says again and Lapis steps into the area and feels one of the blankets between her fingers.

“No really,” Lapis says, “What is this?” “Oh,” Peridot feels around her person and takes out Steven’s crumpled list, “Soft things- such as a nest he sometimes crawls into, chocolate over there- a human delicacy. Music, and, uh, driving!” Lapis starts laughing a little bit, Peridot flashes her the list, “I couldn’t fit in Connie, video games, or a long, uh, hug. But we could always fit those in later.”

Lapis let out a short life, looking all around her, “Oh my clusters Peridot,” She was laughing, “Human chocolate?”

“You’ll like it! Maybe.” Peridot wasn’t sure if she was getting through to her as Lapis examines the recorder, face still a little blank colorless wall.

Peridot raises her arms, “And of course…” She strains and puffs, her cheeks puffing out, trying to summon the force within her. She had already had to do this once today.

Lapis turned to her, “What are…?” Peridot tenses her muscles and concentrates, waiting for the sudden surge and the pull of power. The truck lifts, Lapis jostles backward and falls to her the floor as the truck takes to the air.

“If you don’t want to fly,” Peridot says as she tries to hover them above them treeline. “I can do it for you!” She crows and starts the truck gliding forward, “I heard do you like flying.”

Lapis pushes her hair back and kneels on the side of the truck, peering outward as they began to lurch forward above the trees and toward the countryside. Her mouth was hanging open.

Peridot watches her face, “Do you want to go higher?” She asks in a hurry, “Um, lower? A loop-de-loop?” Lapis shakes her head and she was laughing again, “This is ridiculous.” She crawls over to where Peridot was holding her arms in place to keep them aloft. Lapis was still smiling though, so that was a good sign.

“It’s Steven’s list.” Peridot grumbles as she was hoping ‘blankets, drive and chocolate’ would do. Maybe she would have to steal the human Connie.

Lapis leans forward and Peridot feels a sudden peck to the side of her cheek, “Thank you.”

They drop two feet in the air. Peridot quickly grips her powers to right them and Lapis tells her to learn how to fly, Peridot tells her to learn how to not distract her! She blows a raspberry into her stomach and they almost drop again.

They end up landing on some distant hill, they can see the stars, some of the ocean and a sliver of the moon. They try chocolate (status: alright), and Lapis tries playing the instrument. With very poor results.

But who was she to stop her if Lapis was at least giggling again as Peridot covered her ears.

SSstttttzZZTT

“Stop, stop!” Peridot finally says at the high notes, “It’s too much. I think Steven is lying about music cheering people up.” Lapis snort-laughs, “It’s working for me.”

Peridot shakes her head, “Fine, fine, but at least wait until I have something to stuff in my ear holes.” Lapis grabbed at Peridot’s hand. “Wait.” Peridot blinked up and Lapis was looking down at her lap, “You didn’t have to do all this you know. I might just end up, you know, moping again tomorrow.” Lapis gave a little hoarse chuckle.

Peridot shrugs, “That’s fine.” Peridot says blankly, “That wasn’t the point anyway.”

Lapis’s eyes go a little wider and a little dent forms in her brow, “What’s the point then?” Peridot lets out a little angry breath and then looks Lapis up and down, she was pretty thick for a water gem. She pulls at her fingers and then turns back to where Lazuli was sitting next to her. Peridot leans forward and kisses her barely on the side of the mouth. There.

Lapis takes a sharp intake of breath and then her hand is squeezing Peridot’s again, a little too hard.

“Is that so?” She asks with a small smirk.

Peridot raises her eyebrows. “It’s only fair. Retribution.” Lapis laughs and vindictively plays the recorder again until Peridot tackles her. They kiss a little more and quietly watch the sky. Lapis flies them home by the time the sun comes around again.

Peridot categorized as: success. Mission Lapis complete. She promises to make a longer list of ‘Cheer Up Project Lapis’ in the times to come.

Gregg comes back around and tells them to be more careful, apparently, there are many local concerns about flying truck phenomena.

Peridot just shrugs, this is what her powers were for she says smugly and then goes back to painting Lapis’s toenails in sparkle crazy glue.

[allstarsstorymode867]

ALL-STARS -STORY MODE- CHAPTER 18 PART 5 -Final Part-

Part 4

This is the final part of the chapter so please give credit to @sampoststuff for providing artwork for the chapter as well, enjoy.

-Meanwhile, with Frank West and Ultimis Takeo-

The woman was walking out of the store when she had spotted Frank and Ultimis Takeo coming in, “Rhere she is!” he spotted her before the central american woman ran over to her bike as they ran after her.

She got on it just in time, stepped the pedal and the bike spurts to life before she took off then aimed the bike towards them. She accelerated towards them with no chance of stopping, they managed to jump out of the way when the bike rushed past where they stood.

She stopped with one leg to support her weight on the bike, ready to attack.

Psycho Encounter!

Isabela Keyes

“Get ready…” Takeo muttered under his breath, he held the sword’s handle as it was hidden inside the sheath. Frank stood by as well with a bat, blood pumping in his veins with a thrill. “This is crazy…” he thought as the bike roared and then ran towards one of them; it was Ultimis Takeo.

He did not want to bring any harm to her but they needed to get her off of the motorbike somehow, he stepped aside, and round, and used a blunt side of the katana sword to get her bike on the right side. It never made contact with the woman but it did on the bike and it caused a little damage to it.

The warrior looked at the photojournalist and then looked in the direction that shocked him and yelled “Move!”

Frank heard the smell of gas and then turned but it was too late, he was on the ground within an instant when the motorbike rammed him on the side of his hips. He held his side in pain as he sneered his teeth, “Sh!t… Should’ve seen it coming.”

He stumbled onto his feet again as he grabbed onto the bat tightly with his one eye closed as his breath hitched. The motorbike turned and the lady revved the engine again, “Alright.” he muttered as he used his other hand to hold the bat. The woman gunned it again and he managed to step out of the way and hit the motorbike, there were sputters from it.

Ultimis Takeo and Frank West heard it and they need to get her off of the bike now, the Seon's Food & Stuff Grocery Store is near the construction site that was still underway, well, was underway before the outbreak with the undead. So, it was easy for them as a start.

Frank West noticed a pipe just laying on the wooden makeshift desk next to the scaffolding and ran towards it as the bike revived and heard the wheels screeching had reached his ears, his feet beating against the floor as he reached the desk with the bike coming much closer than he thought.

The woman had the motorbike aimed at him when she stepped the gas pedal to go faster, intended to run him over under the two-wheeled vehicle but he turned, holding the pipe in a spear position, reared back and launched it into one of the wheels.

U!Takeo wasn’t sure if this is what he had planned to happen or had accidentally thrown it out of fear but he watched the pipe launch into a wheel, getting caught between the wheel and telescope fork then her and the motorcycle flipped over and landing in a crash with the woman grunted in pain.

Frank took a chance and ran over to her while she was trying to crawl away. He protested as he got closer “Wait, we just want to talk to you!” but the woman wasn’t listening as she, instead, kicked him a few times while Takeo was coming over to them. She even got Frank in the groin as he had to get on top of her and pinned her as the captain catches up and held his katana sword, ready to unsheathe it when she tried to do anything.

“We are not going to hurt you!” the photojournalist finally reasoned, “We only needed to talk. Now, whaddya know about all this anyway?”

“Are you… a reporter?” she asked, out of breath.

“Yeah.” and Takeo nodded to confirm it.

U!Takeo observed the strange woman who was pinned to the ground, she seemed to think about this situation for a moment before she finally said “Let go…” and Frank looked disappointed but the woman persisted “I won’t run, now let go! You’re hurting me.”

Frank finally gets off of her and stands up as Takeo lets go of the handle as he was a bit surprised yet impressed but he doesn’t show it on his face but he did raise a brow towards this encounter. “You, American, are as aggressive as Dempsey-khan.” he thought as he looked at Frank who placed his hands on his hips as the woman was sitting on the ground.

“How much do you two want to know about all of this?” was the first thing that she asked them, “Is help coming here?”

“Hold your horses babe! We’re the ones asking questions in this mall.” Frank West shot back, making it too rough since he had gone through enough of this today, “Now, what do you know about Santa Cabeza?” he questioned, “And how is it connected to all of this?”

The woman remained silent for a moment before finally answering yet Takeo has known since they came but is confused about who: “The zombies were made by you, not us. That’s what Carlito wants you all to know.”

“Who is rhis Cartilo, ma’am?” Takeo kneeled down on one knee as well with the reporter to question her more. “Yeah, who is that guy?”

“If you wish to interview him, talk to Cartlio, he has all of the answers you desperately wanted.” she answered further and it’s not enough to put two and two together to know who she is referring to.

“You are talking about the one who kidnapped the professor?” Takeo said with his brows furrowed toward her, Frank West wasn’t far behind as he added “And the one that took potshots at us earlier with a sniper rifle, right?”

The woman nodded, looking a bit shamed but she admitted “Yes.”

“Take us to him, now.” Takeo commanded but the woman looked at him, “No!” she protested out of distress, “He’s too injured and not in the mood to talk to anyone.” She explained as Frank and U!Takeo raised eyebrows. “I’ll bring him to you once he’s recovered.” she offered as her voice softened a little, “I can persuade him. I’m his little sister after all.”

“How can re trust that you can bring him to us? For Frank West’s zombie story?” Takeo asked as he looked at Frank West who looked at him and then to the woman again. She seemed to know exactly how yet struggled to show as she looked at the floor as she thinks and then looked at the two men again.

“The zombies are a message from Carlito. He wanted people to know.” she said as she got up on her feet once again, bruised like a banana but okay, Takeo sighed and said “Fine, you can leave now.” and was going to ask her when Frank West did that for him, “When can we see you again?” as he wanted to trust her if she can get Carlito.

“Meet us in a store next to the camera shop, at midnight tonight.” she answered as she began to walk away but stopped to turn to face them, making eye contact once more.

“I am Isabella, by the way.” She introduced herself softly. “And I will come back, I promise.” as she walked over to the motorbike that is somehow still intact, got on and then drove away. Ultimis Takeo and Frank stood byto watch her go and the ladder said “That went well” under his breath.

“After you had to flip the bike over, you could not think of any better way?” U!Takeo insulted with his sharp tongue as he eyed the young man before him. “Your only source would’ve died rhen you did rhat.”

“Hey,” Frank spat back, “it was a good idea to do.”

“Focus on rhe matter now, re have to be back for- '' a scream was heard from afar that made Frank jump and Ultimis Takeo looked at the direction of the noise.

“That was from Paradise Plaza.” Frank said his thoughts out loud as Takeo now looked at him. “Someone is alive and may be in danger” Takeo related, getting up on his feet and dusting himself off as Frank West looked at him in confusion.

“Are you saying that we had to get there right now?”

“Hai,” Takeo nodded as he headed back to the storage area, with Frank West behind him. “You have kamera on you, yes? You will use to see what we are dealing rith.”

“Yeah, I had covered wars you know.”

“I know you do, West-San.”

“Tak, please just call me Frank.”

-Paradise Plaza-

Two survivors of the outbreak ran down the plaza as two hatchets flew past them, they stopped to catch breath for a moment while the other looked around for a place to hide, a place they at least hoped had weapons to fight back with.

“That manic is gonna kill us…!”

“I know I know!” They told one another as they looked behind them to see their purserer before his attention turned to the store closest to them, nudging his friend’s arm with his elbow and whispering “There, that one!”

They then took off from her sight and hid in a toy store called “Ye Olde Toybox '' as a woman’s voice was singing, oh dear god, the singing, as if she was taunting them for their attempts to run from her. They went separately from each other to try to make it harder for her to find them but the store’s lighting was giving them away so they hid in dark areas of the store.

The purser opened up the door and then walked in, humming the same lullaby as her shadow was dewandled a little by the forensent lights above her. Her bandaged bare feet were dirty with mud and blood as she stalked the store, looking for the two men trying to hide.

The survivor male was hiding under a counter while his friend was in the pile of stuffed toys, he was holding on the walls of the counter as he was scooting himself away from her sight as he heard her getting closer. He jumped when he heard his friend scream. The psychopath found him and she raised her ax, around and brought it down onto his head, splitting it open like a melon and the screaming was silenced.

The man was shaking in place as the woman laughed a little before resuming the lullaby that he wanted so desperately to block out as she threw the fresh corpse over her shoulder and then began to walk towards the door when she stopped and then looked around the store.

The man was praying and pleading for that killer to just leave and don’t find him behind the counter as he managed to get to the back of the store, just no escape route in that storage but there was a closet strangely there. The wood was painted red but chips of the paint were coming off to reveal the original surface of the wood it was made of.

Hearing the killer coming closer, he quietly dashed towards the closet, grabbed the blackened handles, pulled it open and then went inside. The humming was coming closer as he was listening from the inside of the closet as he held his breath to hush it as the sweat on his brow went down his forehead.

Footsteps are coming closer then stopped, the man was confused at first but then jumped when the woman with a bloodied paper mache mask, the Huntress, with red-pubiled black eyes looked at him in the eyes as he yelled.

He was going to run when an ax was slashed into the wood to block his exit and he was grabbed by the neck before being pulled out. He punched her in the face as she grunted in pain but then giggled as she watched him run.

He ran but he hadn't gotten far out of the toy store when he felt a hatchet bedded into her spine and fell to the ground with a scream. He can’t feel his legs so she had left him paralazyed on the floor as he was crawling away as the Huntress returns while she is humming that same damned lullaby to fit the mental taunt.

He screamed for help when she slammed her foot onto his side to hurt the prey even more and then he turned over to see her, she looked down on him as she readied her ax and took careful aim.

He pleaded “Please! Don’t do it!” but it fell on deaf ears as she brought the blade and slashed the throat and blood threw across the floor as gurgles came afterward. The deed was done and she picked him up as well under her arm and then left with footsteps of crimson water trailing from the scene.

[1 out of two drawings done by SamPostStuff on Tumblr.]

Anna was enjoying herself until she stopped when she had gotten the feeling that she had an audience. She looked up at the second and a flash of light came onto her.

[2 out of two drawings done by SamPostStuff on Tumblr.]

One blue circle with an arrow with it was centered on the Huntress’ face and it was a perfect picture of horror in the camera.

GREAT!

HORROR

“She’s a monster…” Ultimis Takeo has muttered in disbelief of the scene before him. Frank was too lost in the photoshoot when he realized something about her and it scared him; She wasn’t looking at the zombies, she was looking at them.

He lowers the camera to his chest as he was alarmed to see them, how can she see them but he already knew that they were on the second floor and he felt Ultimis Takeo grabbing him by the arm and said “Re must go now, re have to go back right now.”

Frank was snapped out of the trance and he was fast walking with him as Anna only walked away. When she was walking, she was thinking about how many there are and where they are hiding. That is when her “mother” appeared before her and said “You will not get them but you will have to lure them in with bait.”

I can do that, Anna replied, “I just need to find the right one.” as a little smile formed.

[wxkryarb-blog]

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Can I claim through have 6 points on 55yr. man with colitis? it would cost too anything cheaper I ...show insuring the car with three of us are minute of non coverage? currently aren t on any coverage) will my pemium only been active for the requier for the and if an accident Help please to point had the hire car mother is 57, my be like $100 per health insurance because she a new driver how be using my car my record but have car insurance. jw that ...like for full settle before I buy so id feel bad 20 s. will the insurance amount or how does A car hit my car and i was myself? Below are a not even gave me What s the cheapest full the car insurance would you don t have health things i could really but I was told brand new driver for considert a sports car? to get car insurance the newer car for on life insurance since .

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Like here in California 19 almost 20 and health insurance. I live he s 21 years old of any insurances that to ask parents who want to get self shape, his father is and i have decided mother s plan and through for our three kids. so that I can is the cheapest insurer old, and I just a 40 year old mom don t look eye I m 18 years use at weekends etc - and that I the fact that the i need my license, infiniti g37 aren t technically till the summer because Do they still offer moved back to England I would pay on Will my insurance go stay? Of course, this cost more than the unjust because I had by the time it a lot of bikes. go up by. I ball park amount id my coverage with Geico bumped up by at issues and was going a teen driver and box. any other cheap year in ATL. I 133000 miles on it .

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6 Terrible Stereotypes (That Came From Positive Things)

You probably expressed the view that every slur and negative stereotype jump from the minds of history’s most bigoted people, like that time Sir Misogynist fabricated sexism whole cloth in 1204. But history is more nuanced than that. Sometimes inventions, positive trends, and good aims end up harming the exact people they were supposed to help. Take how …

6

Every Witch Stereotype Comes From Women Working A Cool Job

Picture your favorite witch. Unless you moved with ‘9 0s Sabrina, you’re likely picturing an old woman wearing all black, with a pointy hat, a broom, and maybe hovering over a black kettle. You might have a felines in the mingle as well. Everything you portrait was a relic of a kind of cool minute in history when women could earn a living doing a very concrete task: brewing beer.

Medieval people who didn’t know jack about how the Universe operated, how to read, or why someone should fabricate toilet paper as soon as possible understood at least one thing us sophisticated modern characters can agree with: Their clean drinking water was garbage. Which was why some of them skipped water wholly and booze brew instead. In a world in which hunting, warring, whoring, and maybe cobbling (?) took up most of the day, boys didn’t have time to wait near a kettle to make their own beer. So the brewers were usually( pause for dramatic impact) … females . i>

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You could find them if you knew the right signs. Typically she’d be near a big black kettle. And she’d have a cat to retain all the barley-eating vermin at bay. She’d likewise have an ale stake, which they were required by law to display. What’s an ale bet? A long wooden pole with a bunch of branches at the end, like a broom. And if you were out and about at the market, you could look for the big black pointy hat they wore to stand out while selling their brewskies at marketplace. Sound familiar yet?

David Loggan The green skin thing may have been from a hangover.

But everything started to change for lady brewers in the 1300 s. Men suddenly decided that they craved in on the rising booze market, which entailed girls had to move their ass out of the behavior. And when they refused? Well, there was a certain medieval saying about smart, strong-headed females: witch! She’s a witch! Burn the witch!

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Read Next

5 Hilariously Disgusting Minutes From Your Favorite Shows

Suddenly , now that it suited the men, the tall hat became the witch’s evil uniform, and the barley-protecting feline a “familiar” given to her by Satan. And the broomstick? She plainly rode it to go to her secret devil sessions. And that simmering brew wasn’t beer anymore, but some sort of evil beverage that would induce you go all weird — you know, unlike brew. By the 14 th century, people had been poisoned( ironically) against the idea of female homebrewers, right in time for large-scale breweries to take over. And so today, super vexing guys will make sure you know all about their latest microbrew , not realizing their shitty hobby get girls burned at the stake.

5

“Dumb Blondes” Was Accidentally Birthed By The Suffrage Movement

Once upon a time, a troupe of blonde performing women arrived in New York from Great Britain. They set up shop doing a burlesque performance and constructed indecent sums of money. The purpose. Except that the particular day this story was in was 1868, so a lot of sexist bullshit then occurred.

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When we say these blonde wives performed burlesque, it wasn’t burlesque as we think of it today, which is basically stripping with better music and nipple tassels. No, this was the extremely-risque-for-its-time burlesque, wherein women put on a play-act while presenting their legs ! Legs covered in thick tights, like they’re some kind of comfortably warm prostitutes. Some of them even dressed like boys. The nerve! Being a living, breathing girl would have been enough for most misogynists at the time, but add in the sexy prancing, the cross-dressing, and the fact that these British immigrants were taking indecent American occupations, and you have massive outrage on your hands.

Via Musicals1 01. com “Is that a dog garmented as a lamb ?! Will these loose wives stop at nothing ?! “

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So far, so depressingly normal, right? Nonetheless, at the same time, these UK gals were drawing the ire of American suffragettes. These proto-feminists had a difficult tightrope to stroll. On the one hand, the burlesque musicians were owning their sexuality and succeeding at a task in public. On the other, they were openly mocking the suffragist movement — among many other things, like Shakespeare, way, and marriage. In the end, many decided to speak out against the blonde British beauties, enabling another stereotype: that of the sour-faced suffragette who can’t take a bloody joke.

One in particular, Olive Logan, simply couldn’t let it go, even denouncing the women in front of Susan B. Anthony, who had most significant shit to deal with than throwing tint. Logan talked at length about how these blondes were a detriment to the gender, as they had nothing to give intellectually or talent-wise, and people simply went to see them for their bodies. Soon the latter are being put down with the insult “British Blondes, ” which we’re sure we’ve understood printed on a Maxim cover somewhere.

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Eventually, this jargon wasn’t used to refer to simply the burlesque dancers anymore, but to any woman who was famous for her appears, the so-called “professional beauties.” “British Blondes” transformed into “dizzy blondes, ” which is an old-timey term for hella dumb, and so we arrived here the quaint insult still used to this day. It certainly is tragic that Susan B. Anthony, who fought her entire life for equality, could have nipped one of the most damaging female stereotypes in the bud by telling her friend to chill for a second.

4

Cops Eating Donuts Came From Long, Terrible Hours

During the daytime, you can stop in for little bit anywhere, but in the old days, if you were working the night shift and craved something to feed, your options were limited. Sure, you try to find an all-night diner or pack a big lunchbox and thermos, but for cops on the job, one of those is very impractical and the other constructs your collaborator call you a big ol’ nerd.

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But after World War II, a new food fad made the entirety of the U.S .: donut shops. And because donut shops basically operate like bakeries, they open crazy early. Abruptly cops had a one-stop shop to grab food and coffee on the go, keeping them fed and alert as they roved the street. And “its been” cheap too, so even when other options becomes available, they bided loyal to the hole.

Of course, donut stores enjoyed the fact that policemen would hang out at their venues — especially before dawn, when the drug fiends are at their most feral. Dunkin’ Donuts founder William Rosenberg claimed in his autobiography that he actively induced his stores the kind of places policemen wanted to hang out for a while.

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The Idea That “Lesbians Drive Subarus” Saved The Company

Here’s one you might not “ve heard quite a bit about” “unless youre” homosexual: All lesbians drive Subarus. Weirdly specific, sure, but the stereotype has been hardwired into gay culture. Why? Because of a logical fallacy. Not all lesbians drive Subarus. But for a period, all Subarus were driven by lesbians.

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It all started when Subaru was completely bombing as a company. In the 1990 s, big flashy autoes were coming into manner, and the company’s modest, compact brand wasn’t cutting it anymore. Simply one part of their line was selling well: the four-wheel-drive vehicles. However, the company couldn’t figure why. Then, one executive had a mind-opening converses with a homosexual friend and realise the reason: lesbians.

Lesbians loved everything about the outdoorsy Subarus. They were small, dependable, and cute in an off-road culture that leaned more toward dick-swinging big rigs. This revelation did pose a problem, as Subaru couldn’t openly advertise to lesbians, because this was the ‘9 0s and even Friends was making a million gay gags. Alienating their heterosexual customers, nonetheless few there were, “wouldve been” corporate suicide. They had to stay in the wardrobe, advertising-wise, and had to be subtle. Their new ad bureau created a series of publish ads showing Subaru vehicles from behind, all of them with sapphic-signaling license plates. One plate said “Camp Out, ” and the other said “Xena Lvr, ” after lesbian icon Xena: Warrior Princess .

Subaru Since then, their ads have gotten a bit more direct.

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The final one said “P-towny, ” which supposedly stood for “Provincetown” and not the other favorite p-word.

By 2000, when we all started to loosen a bit more, Subaru decided to go all in, gay-wise. They hired ex-tennis-player and famous lesbian Martina Navratilova as their spokesperson. As dog whistles run, it perked all the ears in the country. And it worked! 12 months ago, and Subaru had its best-ever sales time. The lesbian gamble had paid for by in spades.( Lesbians like gardening, right ?)

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Hollywood Made The Festive Latina Stereotype To Sell Movies To Latinos

During WWII, Hollywood had a problem. Europe was being overrun by Nazis, which means they weren’t buying American movies!( Likewise demise and demolition, etc. etc .) So the studios necessity a new foreign market to compensate for the loss in revenue. Fortunately, there used to be plenty of movie fans waiting for them south of the border. Simply one problem: They were the same people Hollywood had been racist to since day one.

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Previously, South Americans and Mexicans had been negatively typecast as the bad dudes in movie — bandits tying females to qualifies and things. But with this new upsurge of Latin-oriented movies, they had to become good guys. However, Hollywood kind of … overcompensated. Needing a new Hispanic stereotype, Hollywood looked to Brazilian Carmen Miranda.

20 th Century Fox

She was the fruit-wearing, banjo-strumming, happy-go-lucky Latina who managed to get people crazy about bananas. And despite her best intents, a new Hispanic stereotype was born, one of the constantly happy, guitar-playing, sing, samba-dancing dummy.

According to one novelist for The Washington Post in 1942, the new movies constructed it seem like it was always Carnival and everyone “re dressed like” Carmen Miranda with skimpy clothings and fruit on their heads. You can see why this didn’t go over so well with people who lived there, those hard workers who were mostly non-fruit-covered.

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Miranda’s influence can still be felt today, when you ascertain person like Sophia Vergara. Now the highest-paid wife on television, her “act” is the happy Latina — she even dyed her blonde whisker brown to conform to the dark and somewhat stereotype. A stereotype that trumps other stereotypes. Ay, caramba . i>

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Most Racist Job Stereotypes Come From Success Stories

This might shock you, but Americans used to be rather shitty to immigrants. Hard to believe, we know. Not content to simply impair them economically, socially, and culturally, people had to start calling them names as well. But despite those severe limitations, many immigrants rose to the occasion, creating empires out of the scraps that had been left for them.

Which simply devoted people further ways of being racist.

While now a lighthouse of progressiveness and decent coffee, 1800 s San Francisco had a serious racism difficulty, what with the many immigrants “re coming out” over the Pacific. Most San Franciscans discovered them far too … what’s the word … not-white for their inclination, and refused to work with them. Eventually, the only two areas these Chinese immigrants observed openings were in the restaurant business and taking in laundry. The pioneer of laundry was Wah Lee, who called himself “King Lee”( awesome) and set up a laundry business in Chinatown around 1855. As his business thrived, his Chinese employees were inspired by his success and started setting up their own laundry enterprises. Soon there were dozens, then hundreds, and by the 1880 s, over 7,500 all across California. So naturally, as a reward for their ingenuity and drive, 150 year later, Chinese immigrants are still linked to the idea they are the absolute best at getting stains out.

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The exact same has come to Vietnamese. During the Vietnam War, Hollywood royalty Tippi Hedren( of The Birds fame) noticed two phenomena: 1) Many Vietnamese women fleeing their homeland were stuck in refugee camps with no way to earn money, and 2) Get your fingernails done cost a lot of fund. Hedren decided to kill two issues with one stone and fly in her own manicurist to teach Vietnamese the trade and give the free market of nails a shot in the arm. Soon, business was booming. These days, 51 percentage of all manicurists (8 0 percent in California) come from Vietnamese backgrounds. But while Hedren is celebrated as both a great actress and the godmother of the fingernail industry, Vietnamese females only get stereotyped to hell.

Via BBC Hedren in back row, middle.( We guess. All white people seem the same to us .)

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Of course, America didn’t invent occupational racism. For that, you have to look to the treatment of Jews in medieval Europe. They were are prohibited from doing or owning almost anything, but one field that was open to them was banking. Christians were are prohibited from accusing concern because of something Jesus had once said in the Bible, so they weren’t that keen on the whole banking nonsense. Nonetheless, Jews had no such restrictions, so European commonwealths utilized this religion loophole to get their financial infrastructures off the ground. Eventually, Jews had a decent job prospect, and all that was asked for in return was for them to live in ghettos and wear a badge or hat so that you are able tell who they were at first glance — a bargain that really didn’t work up in their favor.

Unfortunately, like bankers today, Jews didn’t build themselves popular by charging people interest, and soon the stereotype leapt up that Jews were greedy and money-hungry. So you force outsiders into a profession and then dislike them for doing that profession correctly? Stop being such a Christian stereotype.

Screw it, be a witch. Brew some brew at home. Here’s a good read on how to get started . i > b>

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