#i need to stop before the second half comes or else i will be deceased

[autumnalwalker]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @sam-glade.

My words to find were walk, run, fly, & swim.

Passing the (pressure free) tag to @silvertalonwritblr, @holdmyteaplease, @floweryprosegarden, @stesierra, @writeblr-of-my-own, @wrenofthewords, @albatris, and the usual open tag to anyone else who wants it.

Your words to find shall be venture, focus, whimsy, & vision.

Walk: The Archivist's Journal, Day 13

Twice a month - usually around the full and new moons but it can vary several days in either direction - the mists appear during the day.  And then as night falls the nighttime shades rise.  They won’t enter into homes or anywhere else free of mist, but if they find a human, living or dead, they’ll claim them and take them back to the Catacomb Depths where the dead dwell.  It’s been decades since the last time someone living was claimed.  Everyone’s taught from the time they’re old enough to walk not to venture out on a mist day.  The only times anyone ever stays out past morning on one of those days are funerals for the recently deceased, leaving the body for the shades to lay to rest at the end of the ceremony.

Run: Empty Names - 7 - Compilation

Lacuna looks from the USB stick in her hand to the laptop and back to the general direction of Bridgewood’s face.  “Thanks,” she stammers, trying not to let her relief show too obviously.

“Free advice: Just leave the heroics to those three,” he says and points a thumb over his shoulder.  “Focus on what you’re good at instead of trying to chase some fantasy that’s just going to make you into a liability for the rest of us to clean up after.  After all, someone needs to run the website and file the paperwork.”

“Website?”

“Oh, and while you’re here alone, don’t go wandering off or touching anything.  Especially not the statues.  This place is bigger on the inside and some of the security systems are a bit finicky about distinguishing between intruders and guests.  If you need the bathroom or something, just ask one of the cleaning golems and they’ll show you the way.  Follow them exactly and don’t stray.  I don’t want to have to explain whatever state we find your body in later.”  With that last bit of advice he turns around on one heel and jauntily walks toward the door, waving goodbye without looking back and passing Eris on the way.  “Have fun not drowning.”

Fly: The Archivist's Journal, Day 301

Whomever you are, I’m sure that by now you’ve noticed that I have a tendency to go on at length about any number of topics, large and small.  Whether waxing poetic on the beauty of mundane things or soliloquizing about anxiety and loneliness.  I’m not trying to be deep or profound when I do this.  I am neither poet nor philosopher, nor do I aspire to be.  I hold no great truths of the world in my mind that I’m trying to spread.  I have no one that I seek to impress.

So, when I go on like that, it comes down to two things, really.  The first is that, from the beginning, this journal has been a tool for helping me understand both this world and myself.  As such, much of this is me working through things as I write; a sort of stream of consciousness as I examine things and work through them, stumbles, tangents and all.  

The second thing is that I quite simply enjoy it.  I’ve said before that the way I speak is not the way I write.  Tellings notwithstanding (and those are half recitation and in many ways more like playing a game and being someone else for a time than holding a conversation), when it comes to the spoken word I am prone to laconicism.  Short phrases and long pauses.  Stutters, stops, and repetitions.  The words I find never quite the ones I’m searching for.  Peace made with fading into the background because I’ve learned it’s easier than forcing myself to speak up.  But the words come easier with the writing.  It’s a freedom from the normal frustrations of communication and with that freedom it is hard not to indulge in the whimsy of letting pent up words fly free.

I’m getting better, with the speaking I mean.  Slowly, but I am.  Having a job that requires me to interact with others helps.  The telling helps.  The teaching helps.  Having friends helps.

Knowing myself helps.

Maybe that helps everyone.

Swim: Empty Names - 15 - Matters of Technique

The first thing Ashan hears upon regaining a comfortable, if drowsy, consciousness is birdsong and the wall-muffled ticking of grandfather clock.

It occurs to him that he is alive, awake, and in a different place.  This revelation causes him to sit bolt upright and begin conjuring a shield.  The former makes his vision swim and the latter elicits a sharp pain in the back of his neck.  He gasps and falls back into the pillow of the bed of one of the guest bedrooms of the bed and breakfast above the office.  He tries again, more slowly this time and without doing anything to aggravate the burnout.  Scanning the room, he locates his wand on the bedside table next to an untouched water glass and his robes hanging in an open wardrobe.  The sight of them both intact and accounted for calms him.

More belatedly, he realizes that his arms are free of any sign of the myriad cuts inflicted by the tripped ward.  Lifting the bedsheets finds his legs similarly unblemished.  At the lack of scar or even bandages, he begins to wonder if he only dreamt the spear and everything else that happened after tripping the ward.

#tag game #find the word tag #manuscript search tag #writeblr #my writing #writers on tumblr #writing tag games #empty names #the archivist's journal

[dylawas-reblogs]

I am ready to give up

ready to quit my job

ready to dump all of my savings into a gaming computer/vr and a trip to another country/a long distance friend

ready to hurry and outline the remainder of HLAL for my readers so they have SOME closure if not the full completed series

and then I'm ready to peace out of this existence by christmas (not before I make sure friends are in my legal will, there are things I don't want my family to have)

btw if you're gonna report this post this isn't a concrete 'plan' (no intent to put it to action yet)

but i don't know why the fuck I try anymore

i'm tired

i'm burned out

i'm depressed

people reach out to me and offer to help but idk how they can with the things i need help with

and maybe it's cruel of me but it's starting to feel like the equivalent of 'thoughts and prayers'

they'll feel powerless when there's nothing they can do; I'll feel powerless that there's nothing they can do. Everyone will just feel even more like shit if I try

emotional support's not enough anymore & I can't ask for money

I have enough

just don't have a guaranteed stable/sufficient income to confidently move out (I refuse to be a financial weight)

not to mention why the hell would I reach out when everyone else is floundering too

i can't find a job in my degree not even an unpaid internship

and i'm continuously being denied my graduation present of a high end gaming desktop because of it

(and because to my guardian it's not the 'right' kind of graduation present so he's spiteful)

i'm too anxious to network (and i don't even know what the point is when all these people i'm reaching out to aren't in positions to help suggest a position)

I open linkedin and burst into tears every time

In her defense she probably didn't know, but a recruiting person told me my skills were "better suited for an internship" when I have my BACHELORS

and most internships EXCLUSIVELY want college students which i'm not anymore

I can't find an alternative full time job that wouldn't make me want to puke or tear myself apart

I'm always told to go outside but go where? There are no Third Spaces within walking distance, and going places costs money

i'm paying half of my part time income in rent in my OWN GUARDIAN'S HOUSE while he fucks off to a new vacation/concert every third week

I was passed over for a promotion I was half counting on as an alternative to a new job

the job I'm currently working just stripped away extra hours because people were picking up too many so I can't work extra to offset rent

again I want to reiterate I HAVE MONEY but this greatly diminishes saving ability

and this whole vent was originally all gonna be in tags but this is the part where my tags didn't save because I had too many when I drafted this post

so oh boy I get to retype more than half of my grief from memory

so just know i'm probably forgetting something

My laptop wifi driver card was failing every hour for a while and no software troubleshooting resolved it

so it's probably a hardware issue (it's stopped for now but I know it will come back to bite me later)

Apparently my car's brakes need to be replaced and I was basically blamed for not knowing

but I didn't know that they needed replacing because I was never taught what to look out for and nothing seemed wrong to me

And these kinds of surprise expenses are EXACTLY why i basically have a phobia of spending money

anytime I think "I'm in a comfortable position I can treat myself!" almost immediately after something fucking breaks

it's a curse

speaking of shit fucking breaking, my whole body is in agony

went to a deceased relative's house to clean out everything yesterday and hated every second of it

(house was disgusting/family member was a smoker, which I have ZERO tolerance for)

but I went anyway, because it was the right thing to do and the immediate descendants would have been short handed otherwise

and my older brother ratted me out to The Overlord when I pointed out how shitty it was he wasn't going to be there when he was the favorite relative

And my brother did this KNOWING how this man will threaten to take away transportation/living arrangements/make you LITERALLY PAY if you don't kiss his fucking boots and grovel

the equivalent of telling on a shoplifter who was taking food because they're starving to the cops

so now I'm determined to not have a relationship with my older brother alongside the Overlord when I can finally escape

in the meantime i can't fucking write/draw/game/etc without feeling overwhelming guilt because I "should be working on a portfolio/job hunting"

so even when I try to relax, I can't, either through not enjoying the activity or not being able to start it at all

"You can't have fun" "okay let's do the hard stuff then" "no."

can't even do the portfolio part because of the burnout and general exhaustion from work anyways

And where the hell would I even "advertise" or gain a following when every social media is imploding either due to poor management or hostile AI takeover that will take your art/writing without a second thought to add to its Frankenstein algorithm

And the (in comparison) "moral" social media options are all niche to the point where you wouldn't be able to build a sufficient following anyways

this kind of self marketing shit is in and of itself a full time job, but oops! I'm already working!

Don't get me wrong I knew social media was a rat race before I graduated college, but nothing and no one could have prepared me for the way it is now. There was no AI competition until a year before I graduated, and that's going to change the entire field/process.

feels like my career coach and every job hunting site is wildly out of touch with how the market is now not just in my career but EVERYWHERE

And I want to try to start dating again, but there's no way in hell I can do that in confidence when I'm still living with a conservative fuckface

So there's another point for "can't move on in life if I don't get the fuck out of here"

Every single thing I do these days is "fucked if I do, fucked if I don't, and there's no reward for either option"

No social media is no exposure/followers, but social media is basically by default art theft now

working extra hours takes away more of your free time for recharging/portfolio, but not working means you're barely scraping by, and only if there's no emergency

Not saying anything to the people who are wronging you lets them think they can get away with it/think they're doing no wrong, but calling them out results in punishment and victim blaming

Nothing I do feels right, no matter if I kick it in reverse or drive, my wheels spin in every direction and everyone who IS in a position to help push the damn car just stands from afar and suggests, "Try turning the steering to the right for the fourteenth time!"

SOMETHING needs to change. But that kind of change can't happen unless the environment changes, and that can't happen because I have to make sure my income doesn't become a net negative, meaning nothing can change because I'm not in a position where asking for a rent decrease is an option.

And I KNOW most of this isn't my fault. I KNOW most of it is a side effect of a sick and decaying capitalistic society compounding on my own mental illnesses. It still feels like this has to be my fault anyways, because I'm being actively punished by it by the people closest to me (physically, not emotionally).

What is the fucking point.

Edit 8/14/23: Overlord, stop pressuring me to go to a "roast" for my deceased relative. I didn't hate him, but I disliked him, and me and my mother KNOW the "roast" is just a funeral service coated in clown paint-- which he didn't want.

#dylawa rambles #dylawa rants #dylawa vents #hopelessness #tw implied suicidal thoughts #implied suicidal thoughts #cw implied suicidal thoughts #i have been staring at and editing this post for two hours I have to let it go #but don't be surprised if there are future edits

[kagetatsumis]

i was trying to find if i made a textpost about the moment when tatsumi gets really self-conscious about if he’s acting too different from before and yumeko goes “i like this tatsumi”

and then i realized how passive aggressive i was in literally all my sotf textposts

but also like,,, that scene >>>

#sotf #cindy talks #not me being like 'yeah i'm rereading sotf' #'why aren't you HMMMM????' #LMAO #i'm dead my cindy talks tag is iconic #yall sleeping on my textposts #anyway read sotf #i opened night of the dragon #and it was a Mistake #i need to stop before the second half comes or else i will be deceased

[hello-nichya-here]

How NOT to write romance - How I Met Your Mother edition

Warning: long-ass post and lots of bitterness over a TV show that ended nearly eight years ago.

Basics for story-telling

If the romance you want to write is dysfunctional, fucking embrace it and have fun with the concept instead of pretending the bad shit the characters do is okay because “it’s true love”

Acknowledgde that your main character has flaws instead of acting like he is a saint who can do no wrong for no reason other than “he is the main character. Definitively don’t make him do, of his own free will, the exact exact same things the supposedly “selfish and cruel” womanizer does and then excuse it as him having “succumbed to/been tricked by a bad influece” like he’s child who doesn’t know any better instead of being a grown ass adult.

Don’t make your characters be annoying, entitled fuckers who think they have the right to judge others for wanting different things out of a relationship/not wanting a relationship at all. Don’t act like monogamy, double dates with other couples, marriage and children are something EVERYONE secretly wants deep down.

Don’t demonize the “evil” character of the group and act like the “heroes” being appalled by the shit he does is anything other than hypocricy. There’s literally nothing forcing them to be friends with him, so they’re obviously not as horrified at bad shit he does as they say they are, otherwise they would have ditched him a long time ago.

Don’t have the “heartless womanizer”,  who we later find out is the ex-husband of the girl the lead wanted for himself, be shown to us exclusively through the eyes of the an unreliable narrator who had motivation to make him see worse than he is likely to be (get his kids to want him to get the girl instead of the “douchebag”). Also, don’t make his schemes to trick women into sleeping with them so completely absurd and ridiculous that the audience is pretty sure that 70% of the women he banged were completely aware he just wanted a quick fuck and went along with it anyway because they wanted some dick (and because the character is played by Neil Patric Harris, who is incapable of not being charismatic)

Fucking let you characters (especially the supposed hero we’re supposed to think is the best boyfriend ever) grow instead of making them constantly repeat the same mistakes

Lily and Marshall

Don’t make one of the characters hide something very important from their partner, and then have the audacity to be mad at them for “just not understanding” as if they were given any reason to understand what the problem even is

Don’t act like someone being heartbroken that their partner lied to them and practically made a plan to “escape” being married to them means they’re not being “supportive” of said partners dream - you should especially not do that after we were shown that they took a job they didn’t like just to make sure they’d have a secure future that would allow said partner to follow their dream.

Don’t have the character who was obviously in the wrong need to be convinced to get their shit together and apologize to their ex.

If a character forgave the ex who wronged them and even got back together with them, don’t have them constantly hold their past mistakes over their head like it that problem has not already been solved - you especially not make them do that on what was supposed to be their wedding day. They can either forgive their partner or not, they can’t keep going back and forth.

Don’t have them constantly hide important shit from each other (having a huge financial debt, getting a job, etc)

DO NOT have the character who fucked up years prior suddenly be willing to do the same shit again for the EXACT same reason (”I think our relationship is in the way of my dreams and I’m now completely isolated because I refuse to talk things out with you”) and then expect the audience to sympathize with them.

Ted and Robin 

Unless you’re writing a Disney/Disney-esque romance, don’t have your lead just look at someone across the room, decide they’re “The one”, imagine their life together and full on say “I’m love with you” AND “I love you” on the first goddamn date.

Don’t have the lead stalk his love interest, and throw three parties in a row just to have an excuse to get close to her now that she made it clear she is not interested in having a relationship with him.

Don’t have the “hero” lie about having broken up with his girlfriend so the girl he wants to be with will sleep with him, and then have him blame his actions on time. “Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.” Grow a pair of balls, Ted!

If one of the characters says “You’re going too fast on the whole ‘love’ thing. Can’t we just go on a few dates and see what happens instead of already starting to plan our lives together?” and the others throws a fit, that is called “being incompatible” and “damn, this dude doesn’t respect boundaries”, not “Wow, she’s so afraid of commitment”

If you want the audience to believe the main character’s feelings are not one-sided, don’t make the fact that said feelings ARE unrequited a running joke, and don’t have the girl only accept giving him a chance after having to deal with the fucker whining “But I love you” for months and/or after going through bad break ups. Also, if you have to retcon half the fucking show to “proove” that “she DOES love him”, that pairing fucking sucks.

Don’t compare the couple you want the audience to root for to the main character’s divorced, dysfunctional parents, and don’t have flashbacks showing that the lead had no clue what his girlfriend actually liked in bed AND that she literally covered up his face so she could pretend she was fucking someone else.

DON’T MAKE HER GET RID OF HER DOGS, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!

If your lead character is still jealous/possessive of his ex, thinks he still has a chance even after she told him to his face that she didn’t love him, and acts like she and her fiance (who he says is his friend) being happy is somehow them being selfish and cruel, your lead character is a loser AND an asshole.

Don’t throw away the entire premise of the show (Ted finding the REAL love of his life) just to force a bad pairing down the audience’s throat

Ted Mosby in general

Don’t have your “romantic, sensitive hero” break up with a girl on her birthday through an answering machine, come back into her life without warning years later because he’s afraid he’ll die alone, and find out that she never heard the message but was actually told about it by her friends and family who were at her apartment preparing a surprise party for her. You should especially not make his first reaction to this new be being mad that he was not invited to the party, and for the love of God, don’t make him break up with her on her birthday AGAIN.

Don’t have the “hero” cheat on his girlfriend and excuse it with bullshit like “Nothing good happens 2 a.m.” and “But I genuinely love Robin so it’s okay that I’m lying to both of them”. Do not, I repeat, do NOT have him blame it on his girlfriend being distant when she didn’t pick up the phone one night and then called back the second she was free to do so, while he was enjoying the gifts she sent him and LIED to her about having sent her some as well.

Don’t fucking make an entire episode with the premise of him turning a no into a yes - and telling that story to his children like it’s romantic.

Don’t have his fiance, who he knows has a rocky relationship with the father of her daughter, tell him she is uncomfortable with him inviting his ex to their wedding and then have him decide “This means I should invite her ex as well”. Also don’t expect me to feel bad for him when she runs off with said ex.

Don’t have him spend YEARS waiting for one of the hundreds of girls he thinks is “the one” to be single and even ask her neighbour to spy on her and let him know when/if she breaks up with her boyfriend - again, for YEARS.

Don’t have the lead say he’s gonna tell their kids about his love story with their DECEASED mother, only for it to secretly be an excuse for him to go “By the way, I’m still in love with aunt Robin despite her having rejected me for 25 years, can I go screw her?”

Don’t act like making the characters reverse back into who they were at the beginning at the story means they’re gonna make things work this time when the whole point of their break up in the beginning on the story was the fact that they’re just not right for each other.

Robin and Kevin

A therapist who was supposed to help their patient move on after a bad break up that messed them up, dating said patient is a major red flag. It is also a bad sign that, when she cheats on him and wants to break up, he realized what she was doing to used his job as “evidence” that he knew better and that she should NOT tell her partner how she felt/what she actually wanted.

Do NOT have said therapist date yet ANOTHER patient that asked him help to move on from a bad break up. Seriously, Kevin was a creep, stop acting like he was some angel who “deserved better than Robin.”

BONUS: How NOT to break up a couple - Barney and Robin edition

Don’t act like their relationship falling appart after their friends kept meddling, and even kept them locked in a room against their will until they labeled their relationship as something they aproved of, is somehow “proof” that they’re not good for each other.

Don’t retcon their relationship to force a break up (seriously, Barney was super supportive of Robin long before he even fell in love with her, but I’m supposed to believe he’d be a bad boyfriend who is never there for her? And he loved advantures and always said “challenge accepted”, but was suddenly miserable travelling the world with her and couldn’t deal with not having wi-fi at the hotel? Fuck off)

Don’t spend an entire season focusing on their wedding, have them get married and then divorce THE NEXT FUCKING EPISODE! Why do you hate your audience? Even people who don’t want them together can see this a terrible idea.

And most important of all, when people question what the fuck were you thinking, don’t have a meltdown on twitter and say that people who think Barney can change are responsible for Donald Trump being elected, you fucking weirdo, go see a therapist (that isn’t like Kevin)

#how i met your mother #himym finale #swarkles #anti ted and robin #fuck ted mosby #worst finale ever #barney stinson #barney deserved better #robin deserved better #they deserved better #i deserved better

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Investigations (Part 3): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

synopsis: when things are uncovered, can you handle the truth? Or are you doomed to make a mistake you can't rectify?

wc: 2.1k

tw: violence

masterlist

song recommendation:

Ran's past was a lie.

When you met him at the country club five years ago, your pasts had been explained in hushed tones and excited flurries of memories; sharing photos of the time before he was an executive of the communications company he worked in and the time before you were a journalist.

Ran said he had gone to jail twice, both for crimes he had been an accessory to as a delinquent kid, but that he'd cleaned up his act after and made his way up the corporate ladder. Nothing about gangs or being a Heavenly King in Tenjiku made it past his lips.

You had been honest, too. Your tales included the time you'd accidentally happened upon a massive gang fight, and that's how your investigative journalism skills began to bloom.

Who was fighting?

What were they going to do after?

Where did these gangs come from?

When did this argument start?

Why were they fighting?

How did gangs form in the first place?

Those were all the questions you sought out answers for that night and the next five years after, devoting your time and effort to finding the truth about everything.

"Babe?" You freeze, hands hovering over the keys at the sound of Ran's voice. You don't turn around - you can't even look at him the same these days - but he fixes that by walking over to you and turning you around in your chair. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Just doing some writing." His violet eyes search yours for the truth, but you know he won't be able to find it. Not while you're still trying to unravel his past. Ran kisses your eyelids sweetly, cupping your face in his large palms and littering his love across your face as you try your best to remain still and not confess about your research.

"Come to bed. It's late."

"I've got a few more paragraphs," you explain, motioning to the small print on your screen. "I'll be in bed soon."

But your lie is discovered shortly thereafter. It's five a.m. when Ran returns, seeing you slumped against your desk, arms cushioning your head, laptop screen blank. Instinctively, Ran pulls you out of your seat - making your notebook fall to the ground - grunting softly as he scoops you up into his arms and cradles you against his chest.

You willingly allow your husband to carry you to bed, where your two-year-old is also nestled among the sheets and pillows, thumb tucked into his mouth. And for a moment, Ran appreciates the view, seeing the two people he loved the most - besides his younger brother - laying in the bed he paid for, in the house he built, in the city he owns.

But then he remembers the slight disarray you left your things in at the desk and returns, picking up your pencil and notebook before laying them beside the laptop. Then his eyes catch "Ran's past?" written in bold, red letters, along with the words: "Tenjiku" and "Tandai" also written in the web of other words surrounding his name. "South Terano" is also on that web.

He'd have to take care of that in the morning.

And for the first time in a long time, worry bubbles to the surface of his mind, and Ran rips the sheet of paper from your notebook, tossing it into the kitchen trashcan and considering his deed done. He concealed his past to protect his family. And he's concealing the present to achieve the same goal; all for the future to be revealed later. That's how everything should be.

Right? _____________________________________________________________

"Ran," you whisper, lips running across his knuckles. His fingers cup your jaw, and his own lips press against your forehead, violet eyes darkening slightly. "It's six am. Where are you going this early?"

"I have to go into the office for a little while," he murmurs, kissing your forehead again. "I'll be back around lunchtime." Thoughts of Tandai and Tenjiku flash into your mind for a moment, but you smile at him sleepily anyway, absolutely sure these things are part of his past and not in the present.

"We'll be waiting for you, my love."

Despite all of your best intentions, though, you can't help but be consumed by the idea of Ran out, fighting, stealing, maiming... You consider asking him about these things, these concerns, but you decide against it as you're helping Kai with his lunch. If he wanted to leave it in the past, there's a good reason for it. He would have told you if it would be a problem later. Right?

Ran wouldn't jeopardize your family, your home, your life for something so... juvenile.

Right?

The clatter of keys on the counter in the living room brings you back to the present, and you perk up, your two-year-old mimicking your expression.

"Daddy!" Kai slides down from his seat and runs to greet Ran, clutching his father's legs with all his little might.

"Hey, buddy," Ran laughs, stooping to pick up his son with excitement. "How are you doing?" As son and father have a very stimulating conversation about playtime, you watch them in wonder, observing the way Ran makes his child a priority, just like he makes you a priority. But your countenance falls as soon as you see the blood spot on the bottom of Ran's lavender suit jacket. You know its blood because of the way it dried - that's no ketchup stain.

You fake a smile anyway, giving Ran a kiss on the cheek and tugging his jacket off after he sits Kai back on the tile floor.

"Hard day?"

"Kind of," Ran mumbles, and you catch the sight of a long scratch down the side of his neck. "But I made it through." You hum, taking the pin-striped jacket to the laundry room and slinging it over the side of the washer. You'd need that later.

"Need to relax?" you wonder, and Ran grins at you mischievously.

"Maybe later, after bedtime?"

_____________________________________________________________

But "later" never came.

Instead, Ran and Kai fell asleep on the sofa, watching a kid's movie, and you retreated to the office, powering up your laptop and pulling your notebook closer.

You immediately notice something's wrong, as the notes you had before were missing. Everything is gone. Not even a word of all the research you had done was there. Hadn't you written meticulous notes and names and things about Ran's past that could be interconnected? You break out in a sweat and search in every drawer of the desk, every place it could possibly be. You come up with nothing, and let out a frustrated sigh before slumping down in your seat and pulling up the computer history from yesterday. If you had to rewrite every single thing, that's fine. You'd just need more time to gather your evidence for the meeting on Saturday.

You're knee-deep in articles and police reports when you stumble across a more recent - actually as recent as this morning - article titled: "Ex-gangster found dead in meat factory". The picture of South Terano startles you, and you click on it, feeling a sense of dread as the article details how he was found hanging upside-down in the warehouse with a bullet hole in his head. And just like that, your newest lead has fizzled out. You groan, writing down "South Terano, deceased" on your notepad, then exiting the tab.

There had to be someone else you could ask. Shuji Hanma only provided you with Ran and Rindou's names, no one else.

"What's this?"

The door to the office shuts softly, and you look over your shoulder at Ran, who is walking toward you with measured steps, his eyes taking in your exhausted expression and the way you're hunched over that notepad. Again.

"What are you doing? You look tired, babe. Let's go to bed, yeah?"

Suddenly, pieces begin to click as Ran leans his hip against the desk, staring down at you in the chair with squinted violet eyes. "You threw away my notes... Didn't you?"

"What are you doing in my business, y/n?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you were in two gangs?" you counter, fingers shaking slightly. "Ran, this is something I needed to know before--"

"You wouldn't have married me if I told you." Ran's tone is cold, almost as if he's turned into the past version of himself without batting an eye.

"You don't know that." Ran leans forward, coming to eye level with you a smirking.

"I know you. And that's all I need." Ran reaches out a hand to close the laptop, still smiling and maintaining eye contact. "Now here's what you're going to do. First, you're going to stop digging into my past. There's nothing there that you need to find. Second, you're going to come to bed. It's late, you're tired. Finally," Ran cups your chin like he did this morning, except his fingers aren't so tender this time. "You're going to cut off contact with both Shuji Hanma and Taiju Shiba. I'm not really fond of either of them, and I'm not a fan of having them tell my business to my wife."

"They were only doing it because I asked."

"Taiju, maybe. Shuji isn't so eager to fuck you. I doubt he did it out of the kindness of his heart." You can't say anything to refute his claims. Ran is probably right. But you can't get one question out of your mind.

"Why are you trying to hide your past? What's there that I won't like?"

"What isn't there is the real question."

"What can you tell me about the gang that's just surfaced in Tokyo?" Ran's face slackens, transforming into a half-surprised, half-blank look that you realize is one that means he's been caught. "Oh, my fucking god," you breathe, tears stinging your eyes. "South, the fish, the murders, the crime... It's you. It's been you this whole time. I've been chasing my own husband down." Panic begins to set in, and your mind whirls around as you shake in your seat, bringing your hands up to your head. "Just tell me Rindou isn't in this," you breathe, but Ran doesn't answer you, still wearing that dumb look on his face. You let out a cry of shock, covering your mouth and trying to back away from Ran as much as you can.

The source is a lot closer than you think.

You slide down the wall, shocked into stillness as your sobs quiet, and Ran straightens up, placing his hands in his sweatpant pockets. The long nights, the early mornings, the bloodstains, the damn suits... It all led to this. Ran had never really left his old lifestyle behind. He'd gotten caught up in it, and brought you and Kai into it unknowingly.

"I never meant for it to get this... unhinged." You can't reply, tucking your knees into your chest as you stare past Ran and at the opposite wall, wondering how you'd missed the signs, the obvious signs that Ran was up to no good. "I know this is a lot to take in, but we can--"

"I can't stay here."

The words fall from your mouth and Ran flinches, shaking his head.

"No. You can't leave."

"Yes, I can," you mumble, standing and wiping your tears. "I can do whatever I need to do to keep Kai safe, and--"

"Kai is safer here than out there," Ran snaps, pointing at the window. "I'm not letting my son out of my sight. Your snooping has caused enough trouble as it is; I wouldn't have had to go and clean up this morning if you hadn't--"

"Don't blame this on me," you retort, pointing at Ran accusatorially. "You're the one who joined a gang and is still in one! What kind of role model are you for our son now?"

"I provide the best way I can," Ran grits out, clenching his fists. "You've never gone hungry, cold, or ill-clothed a day in your life while you were with me."

"I would rather die than enjoy a life paid for with blood money."

"Blood money? You really think--" You try to push past Ran, but he grabs your shoulders, yanking you back in front of him. "You're not going anywhere except to our bed."

"Let me go, Ran Haitani," you mutter, hands balling up into little fists. "Or I'll scream."

"Who will hear you? Kai?"

How had you been so foolish? Ran's lips press together momentarily as his violet eyes run over your figure, taking stock of all your five-foot-six stature. You're no match for Ran. Not mentally, and certainly not physically. Ran notices your defeat and his hands slide down to your wrists, tugging your delicate hands up to his chest.

"Everything will be fine," he whispers, drawing you close. "I'm taking care of us. Just trust me."

Just trust me.

#ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

[strawberry-jammers]

A Child to Protect (pt 5)

tommy x child!reader || Confronting an old friend

tommy comes home to tubbo and ranboo waiting in the living room for...something. 

pt1 pt 2 pt3 pt4

masterlist

sorry this took awhile, i was having some struggles lmao. its not the best but the next few parts will hopefully be good lol

word count: 3215

ask if you wanna be tagged for this seires lmao

~~~~~~~~~

Techno sat in the main part of the room with ranboo and tubbo. They stared at each other awkwardly. Honestly tubbo didn't expect to be in the piglins home today, especially after what had happened. Ranboo shuffled in his seat, uncomfortable with the tension in the air. They saw techno almost glare at tubbo, while the goat in turn decided to glare back.

“Um, are you two okay?” ranboo asked the two of them. Techno nodded, not saying a word, as usual. He was just waiting for Tommy to get there to change the focus or something. Tubbo didn't do anything to acknowledge the question, just glaring at the piglin. “Okay, this is awkward." The enderman whispers to themself. "Techno, hows living in the tundra?” techno looks at ranboo with a blank face, tired of having these two here. “cold.” ranboo nodded. ‘Cold’ not being the answer they were looking for. “Oookay. Tubbo, do you like the tundra at all?'' Tubbo shook his head, having a stare down with the piglin, who had gone back to glaring at the hybrid. “No.”

Ranboo sighed, slinking down into the chair. “You guys are helpless…” ranboo says, sighing tiredly. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Techno jumped up from his seat and looked out the window to see who it was. He smiled, opening the door to the mystery guest. “Finally you're here. Now they can focus their attention on you instead. Good luck with that.” techno says. He moved to reveal Tommy, carrying his kid with him.

Tubbo and ranboo stood up, shocked to see their supposed deceased friend, standing in the doorway holding a child. Ranboo walked over cautiously. “Tommy?” he asked. Tommy looked up at the tall enderman. He nodded, holding the young kid tightly. He really didn't wanna be there, but he knew his kid needed to be back here.

 (y/n) looked up at the enderman hybrid, smiling brightly. “Endy endy!!” they said. Ranboo looked down at them, confused a bit. “Whos this?” they asked the young boy. The kid continued to say ‘endy’ while the two of them talked.

Tommy sighed. “This is my kid..(y/n)” he says, looking at the young child. Ranboo looks at the small child, who smiled at them happily. “Endy!!” they said once more. “No no (y/n), this is ranboo. The good man i told you about.” (y/n) smiled even wider. “Ran ran!!!! Papa told me about you!!!! Good man, good man!!” they said. 

The child's presence lifted the awkward atmosphere that once resided in the room. (y/n) smiled at the enderman, who was nearly in tears from the fact tommy was alive and well, raising a child at that. Ranboo immediately hugged two of them, scarring tommy. “Aye aye get off!” tommy said, not knowing how else to respond. “Sorry sorry, i'm just really happy your alive.” tommy looked at ranboo, gapping his mouth. “Dead!? Why would you think that???” tommy asked. Ranboo smiled awkwardly. “Well…” “tommy?” the two of them turned their head to see their part goat friend, who had finally spoken up. 

“Tubbo..” tommy says, stepping around ranboo to see his old friend. “Ranboo take (y/n).” tommy instructs. Ranboo nodes, taking the small child, who wasn't too happy to leave their father. 

Tommy walks closer to his old friend, who was shocked to see him, barely able to say anything. “Y-your alive!! I thought you died-``Tubbo couldn't continue his sentence. He missed his old friend, and was really happy to see him! He just felt terrible for sending him to his near death…even if it was the only option he had. 

Techno and ranboo went outside, leaving the two of them alone (though techno tried to leave several times). (y/n) was sad they couldn't play with their father, but they did have a new friend, who was really nice.

“Is papa okay?” the young one asked. “Yeah I think he's gonna be fine..wanna play in the snow?” ranboo asked the kid. They nodded, being set down and running into the snow. The enderman chuckled, watching them pick themselves back up and falling again. The enderman did notice, however, the many snowmen that littered the lawn. Some looked like people they knew, one even looked like them. they smiled, seeing the young child show off the one they made of their father.

Back in the house, Tommy and tubbo stood in the middle of the home, staring at each other intensely. 

"So...you're alive? Living with techno?" Tubbo asks, breaking the heavy silence. "Why would you think I'd be dead??" Tubbo looked down a bit. "Well, everything was destroyed and...there was a tower I- I thought you…." Tubbo trails off before finishing. “Oh, that..” Tommy looked down a bit, frowning. “Why'd you do it? Why'd you send me away to isolation? `` Tubbo frowns, tilting his head. “It wasn't supposed to be isolation. I-i thought you just chose to live there..” 

Tommy went over and sat down, sighing. “I really dont wanna talk about this. Can you just tell ranboo to bring (y/n) in here..” tubbo shook his head. “I feel like we need to talk about this, I mean you've been gone for months! You have a kid! What happened?” tommy glared at tubbo. “I told you i dont wanna talk about it, just drop it.” he says, getting up again and heading to the front door. “No! We’re talking about this.” Tubbo goes over and grabs Tommy's arm. He yanks it away from him. “I told you I'm not talking about it! Fucking drop it already!” tubbo let go, stepping back slightly.

“Why won't you talk to me? We’re best friends-”

“We haven't been friends since the exile, since one of your men came here and nearly killed my child! The only reason i wasn't here was cause that lunatic tried to attack me!” tubbo shook his head. “I'm not the one that sent him here-”

“Then explain to me why you're here!”

 the yelling started to get louder, leaving the young child to be concerned. They looked up at ranboo, who was silently screaming cause of the snow. “Ran ran are you sure papas okay? There's a lot of yelling..” ranboo looked over to the house, noticing the yelling as well. “I-im not sure, but we shouldn't interrupt them…” (y/n) looked over to the house, really wanting to see their father. They gasped, remembering a way they could get inside.

“Ran ran!! Follow follow!!” they say, pulling on the endermans pant leg. Ranboo sighed, following the small child to wherever they were gonna bring him. “I'll just stay here!” techno says, laying in the snow.

They, basically waddled, to the back of the house. Ranboo looked around, not really seeing anything. “What did you wanna show me?” they asked. (y/n) looked up at ranboo, pointing to the wall. “Break.” they stood, a bit confused. “You want me to take some of the wall?” the kid nodded, pointing to the wall. “Enderman do the same! Just break.” they nodded, kinda understanding what they were asking. They didnt know if the other two would notice, but they normally break blocks pretty silently anyways.

Ranboo looked at the wall, seeing where the chests would be and where the fireplace was, and broke one of the blocks. They looked in between the chests to see that the others were still arguing and hadn't noticed them. (y/n) pulled on the hybrids pant leg, signaling for them to pick them up to see. Ranboo does so, gesturing for them to be quiet.

Back with the other two, they were having a heated argument. Discussing quackity and his actions, discussing Tommy and his exile, along with bringing up the past such as wilbur and old lmanburg. 

“Well I'm sorry we decided to even form the country! Y'know, we all wanted to find independence!” tubbo says, snapping at tommy.

“It's not that! Its new lmanburg, its lost all meaning!! One of your men, whent and tried to kill techno and I! You said you didn't even send him here!! “

“Why do you keep saying ‘your men’, you know this is also your country right?” 

Tommy glares at Tubbo, stepping away from him. “It hasn't been my country, for a long time. Not sense schlatt took over.'' Tommy looks over, avoiding tubbos' gaze. “Technos gonna destroy the country, and I won't stop him. I know how he is, he's gonna want it gone. Maybe once it is gone, we can start over, not with a country but with a place we could just...live. Together, all of us..'' Tommy says, looking back at tubbo. “You want lmanburg gone? After all we've done!? After what we lost to gain independence!!??'' Tommy nodded. “Lmanburg is more the people than the land. If we’re all together, it'll be the same. The same old lmanburg.”

Tubbo sighs, still angry at the blond before him. “You gave dream the discs for this place, you gave him the one thing we had! Now you wanna get rid of the country we traded it for?” 

“Well, who said we werent gonna get them back?” tommy steps forward again. “You have one of them right?” tubbo nodded, staring at the enderchest in the room. “We already have half of what we need, all we need to do is get the last one. You prepared to lose lmanburg to get them back?” tommy asked. Tubbo contemplated for a second. “No, I'm not. But…"

The two of them talked, no longer upset at the other. They were best friends for years, it's hard to stay mad at each other. Ranboo and (y/n) looked at each other, confused as to how they had just calmed down after such a heated argument. (y/n) ran back over to the front of the house, ranboo running after them. “No no, (y/n) come back please!” (y/n) didn't listen, instead running to the front of the house and trying to open the door. It was left ajar, so it was easy to do so. 

“Dad!!” the young kid said, rushing over towards their father. Tommy looked over to see his kid run over towards him. He smiled as they ran into his legs. He picks them up. "Hey kiddo, whatcha doing back here? Weren't you playing outside playing with ranboo?" They nodded. "Yeah but I was worried!! There was yelling…" Tommy sighs, ruffling the young kids' hair. "I'm okay lil (n/n), everythings alright. Big man Tommy was just talking to tubbo." They looked over to the boy in question, who awkwardly stood there. 

"I think I should get going. Don't wanna make things worse.” (y/n) looked at the goat hybrid and frowned. They pushed their way out of tommys arms, landing on the floor with a huff. Everyone just stared at the young kid as they picked themself up and ran into the goats legs. “Tub don't go! You just got here…” tubbo smiled a bit, leaning down to be eye to eye as (y/n). “I don't think I should stick around. Maybe I'll see you again..” they hugged tubbo, repeating for him not to leave. 

Ranboo picked up the small child, who did not wanna be picked up. “He needs to leave (n/n). Don't worry, you'll see him again.” they huff, nodding. Ranboo chuckled at this. 

Tubbo stood back up looking at tommy once more. “Goodbye tommy. I hope your happy.” with that, tubbo left, leaving ranboo and tommy behind. Tubbo passed by techno as he left, noticing how he was just sitting in front of the door. “Why are you sitting out here?” techno looked up at the male. “Idk mr.government, maybe because i got kicked out of my own home. Again.” tubbo sighed, opting to just ignore the piglin and continue on his way to lmanburg.

Ranboo looked over at Tommy, who seemed to be processing a lot of emotions. Tommy looked over and ranboo and (y/n), smiling a bit before sitting down in one of the few chairs in the room. 

“I really don't like that kid. I don't know why he bothered to come here.” technoblade says, closing the front door that had started to let snow in. He went over to brew some potions, as he needed to go to lmanburg the next day. Ranboo sighed, letting (y/n) out of their arms. They shifted slightly. (y/n) went over to sit with Tommy, who held them tightly. “Um, i think i should leave as well, don't wanna overstay my welcome.” technoblade chuckled a bit. “You don't have to leave, kid. I think you should stay for at least dinner. If you want.” tommy nodded, not really wanting the enderman to leave.

“Oh, well thank you techno, tommy.'' Just then, the door swung open, letting in even more cold air than there already was. They all turned to see philza, who looked like he had just ran here. “What the FUCK happend in lmanburg??” techno looked at Phil a bit confused. “Oh the quackity thing?”

Philza walked in, closing the door. “Yeah but also, why the hell is fundy and quackity dead and WHY IS THE PLACE ON FIRE?? Techno i told you not to do this high level of terrorism yet.” techno looked confused, stopping his potion brewing. “I didn't set the place on fire? I did kill those two tho, they did not fight back. Well, quackity did but he sucks at it.” 

“Wait then who set the place on fire?” phil asked, no longer upset. “Oh i did.” they turned to ranboo, who raised their hand up slightly. “What?” 

“All i did was set the place on fire as a diversion..” 

“Mate the place is basically gone now..” philza said, sitting next to tommy. Ranboo chuckled. “Yeaaahh that wasn't the plan. I just wanted to create a diversion to get out of there..” techno chuckled. “Didn't notice that was you. Good job kid.” techno went back to his brewing, making a bunch of invis potions. “Dadza!” (y/n) said, now noticing the winged man who had sat next to them. They were too focused on tommys scarf. Phil chuckled, picking up the small child. “Hey kiddo. How has things been while i was gone?” tommy chuckled seeing the two of them talk. (y/n) talked about all the things they did in the time he was gone. Ranboo went over to help techno make potions, grabbing things he needed and such. 

It was peaceful like this. Tommy phil and (y/n) all chatted amongst themselves, (y/n) on occasion playing with some random item in the house. When techno and ranboo were done with the potions, they joined the others in their conversation, all of them talking and cracking jokes amongst themselves. It was peaceful, there were no countries or wars, no dream, no trauma, none of that. It was just a couple of friends or family, talking and having fun.

Somewhere down the line, phil and techno whent to make dinner, sense it was awhile sense (y/n) or anyone had eaten any food. The 3 kids decided to play around with some swords tommy and techno had made. (y/n) chased the other two around, playfully trying to hit them whenever they got close. Ranboo dramatically died when (y/n) had stabbed them, while Tommy vowed revenge on the small child. He poked them with the sword, saying he had defeated the evil. (y/n) went into a fit of giggles, saying they could never die cause their immortal, and in turn stabbed tommy. He wanted to stubbornly try to beat them, but he thought it was more fun to go with it. Tommy dramatically dropped his sword and fell to the floor, pretending to be ‘dead’. 

“Stop playing around, foods done.” techno said, entering the main part of the room. (y/n) jumped up, running into the kitchen, excited for food. Ranboo and Tommy got up from their laying positions, wanting to get some food as well.

So they ate, continuing to talk to each other as they did before. Ranboo felt a bit awkward being there, but overtime he felt more comfortable. Tommy talked to phil and techno, occasionally having to tell (y/n) to actually eat their food. 

Once supper was over, phil has suggested that ranboo stays with tommy and (y/n) for the night, since it had already gotten dark out. Techno and ranboo both protested, granted for different reasons, though no one can fight philza. (y/n) was really giddy about this, running around their bedroom, knocking into the prime log a few times. Ranboo climbed down the latter, seeing this. Tommy was making sure they didn't run into the log again, not noticing the enderman.

“(y/n) you know it's time for bed.” Tommy says, grabbing his kid as they try to run away. “No! No sleep!” they tried to wrestle out of tommys arms, it obviously didn't work. “Yes, sleep. Your gonna get too tired to run soon anyways.`` He places them in their bed, trying to make them stay. Ranboo walks over, crouching down to see the kid better, they smiled when they saw the tall enderman. “Ran!!” they said, making the grabby hands at the tall enderman. They smiled, ruffling the kids hair. “(y/n) you need to sleep.” is all ranboo says, making (y/n) frown. “How bout this, i'll give you a cookie tomorrow if you sleep. Deal?” tommy asked. They nodded, laying down on their bed. They both laughed, tommy tucking them in for the night while ranboo stood up, not sure on what to do. 

Tommy got up soon after, looking over at ranboo had just stood there. “You can sleep on my bed big man, I'll either make another one or just sleep on the floor.” Tommy says, going over to his chest in the corner, seeing if he had any left over wool. Ranboo shook their head. “No no, I can sleep on the floor, it's fine. This is your home after all.” tommy looked over at ranboo, glaring at him. “You will listen, bitch.” ranboo sighed. “Fine fine, I'm just saying..” ranboo walked over to the bed, sitting down on it, watching Tommy mess around with some wood and wool. 

When Tommy was done, he put the bed in a random spot in the room. Tommy turned off the only light in the room, signalling that they were going to bed. Ranboo laid down, followed by tommy. They laid like that for a while, not really being able to sleep.

Ranboo looked over, sighing quietly to themself. “I'm sorry about the whole tubbo thing..it wasn't our plan to come here after what happened..” 

“Its fine, it was bound to happen eventually. Thanks for staying with my kid for a bit,you didn't have to…” ranboo nodded. “It was no trouble, they seem to like me.” ranboo says, looking over to see the sleeping child next to them. “Well, still. Thank you ranboo. Your a good man.” 

“So are you tommy..” 

They sleep after that, finally being able to rest for the night.

#mcyt x reader #Tommyinnit x child reader #tommyinnit x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #technoblade x reader #philza minecraft x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x y/n #child reader #x reader #dreamsmp x reader

[dreamwritesimagines]

Caught In The Fire 1 - The Funeral [Mobster! Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback to the preview my loves! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses! 

Summary: Funeral of a mob boss is not the best place to reconnect.

Word Count: 2601

Warnings: Violence, death, funerals, crime, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care. 

 Ever since you were a child, you had always found it strange that one’s family could determine their fates. Granted there were people who could break that cycle and choose what they wanted to do with their lives, but nearly no one around you had been that lucky, including you.

When your father had moved here decades ago, he had used up to his last penny to buy a pub and turned it into a bakery, and only after buying it he had realized that it wasn’t some kind of luck that it had been so cheap. The problem was the location and as he had been informed by two men who dropped by the next day after the opening, the bakery was built on the neutral ground, right in the middle of these gang territories. Each family ruled a different part of the city, and the neutral ground was off limits, so whenever the gangs needed to make sure that they wouldn’t get shot or ambushed, they would meet up there.

Pub served a better purpose, but even they had to admit, a bakery looked much less suspicious.

At first you didn’t even know. You were just a child after all, and your father had made sure to usher you back to the kitchen or to the backyard whenever certain people showed up, and you had never protested because as far as you were concerned when you were six years old, all grown-ups did was talk about boring things and glare at each other. But one of those days when you were sitting on the stairs at the back of the bakery, trailing the spoon in the bowl full of cake batter you had stolen from the kitchen, a boy with bright blue eyes and dark hair walked to the backyard.

“What are you eating?”

You looked up from the bowl, making him stifle a laugh at the sight of the cake batter all over your face and you looked behind you to check your father was nowhere to be seen, then held up the bowl,

“Do you want some?”

“What’s that?”

“Peach cake batter,” you said, “Daddy says it makes you sick if you eat too much but it’s delicious.”

He frowned, “Cake doesn’t make you sick.”

“It does if it’s unbaked. It gives you—“ you thought for a moment, trying to remember what it was called. “It gives you salmons you see.”

“Salmon is a fish.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Exactly. It – it makes fish in your stomach, so they make you sick.”

He didn’t look like he believed you, but didn’t say anything as he took the spoon you offered him and dug it into the batter before taking it into his mouth.

“Daddy says customers aren’t supposed to be here.” You said and he shrugged his shoulders.

“My dad is making a deal in there, and I got bored waiting in the car with his men,” he mumbled before he gave you the spoon back “Will you tell them I’m here?”

You smiled at him brightly and shook your head,

“No.” you said, and offered him your hand because you were sure that was what you were supposed to do when you met someone new, “I’m Y/N.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he shook your hand and you scrunched up your face.

“That’s a lot.”

He grinned at you, “You can call me Bucky,” he said, “Everyone else does.”

“Miss?” you were pulled out of your thoughts when the woman waiting at the door motioned at you, “Arms up please.”

Right. Of course.

Everyone had to be checked for weapons when they walked into the Barnes household, especially in times like these. You held up the tray so that she could pat you down and once she was sure you weren’t carrying any weapons, she took a look under the foil to see what was in it and let you pass. You tried not to get distracted by the huge house, that familiar pang shooting into your heart at how different it was from your small apartment, but you shook your head and walked into the living room to put the tray next to other food before pulling the aluminum foil off to ball it in your hands. The house was packed with so many people, all there to pay their respects for the deceased mob boss or get on his son Bucky’s good side, since he was about to take over the family business.  

Or to make sure their alliances continued. 

But the one thing you knew about everyone in this room? They were not to be crossed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Steve Rogers sitting beside Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s sister who was uncharacteristically silent as she stared into space. She muttered something to Steve and he nodded, heaving a sigh and squeezing her hand as if to assure her everything was going to be alright. Tony Stark was by the corner of the room with James Rhodes, speaking in hushed whispers and Natasha Romanoff looked to be in a serious discussion with Sam Wilson as they walked past you.

“I get what you’re saying but it doesn’t change anything in terms of business, Bucky knows that.”

“Doesn’t it? I’ve never had to be checked for weapons at the door until now.”

“It’s a funeral, Nat.” Sam said, “You know it as much as I do that not everyone is here to give their condolences. You’ve seen Winnifred.”

“She just lost her husband, and she’s not the person I’ll do business with, her son is.” Natasha said, “Did you talk to Bucky after the meeting?”

“You know what he’s like.”

You could feel your heart skipping a beat but you scolded yourself in your head, it definitely wasn’t the time for this. You looked around for a trashcan, but of course there was none so you turned around in hopes of finding one outside the huge living room, but crashed into a hard body. He grabbed at your shoulders to help you regain your balance and your eyes snapped up to see who it was, ready to apologize but the words got caught in your throat.

He looked as handsome as you had last seen him. You could feel your heart beating in your ears and his blue eyes searched your face, slowly withdrawing his hand.

“Bucky.” You swallowed thickly, “Hi.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds, then shook his head as if trying to snap out of his thoughts and motioned at the table.

“Are those black cupcakes?”

Right.

Yeah, that wasn’t the best idea.

“I just,” you cleared your throat, “I figured I couldn’t bring his favorite cake, because cake is for…happier times so I figured, cupcakes—but it’s a funeral so that’s why they’re black.” You let out a breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “I’m being nonsense. I’m sorry for your loss.”

He shifted his weight as if he didn’t want to think about it which was expected because this was probably the hundredth time he was hearing this. You strained your mind to come up with something to say, but before you could find anything he reached out to grab one of the cupcakes to take a bite and nodded at the door.

“Follow me.”

Okay, what was happening?

You didn’t get to ask him as he walked upstairs with you following him closely and he entered one of the rooms in the huge hall. You looked around as you stepped in after him, it looked like some sort of an office with a big mahogany desk, a library and a comfortable couch. The room alone was probably half the size of your whole apartment but you tried to pull yourself together.

“It’s so loud in the living room, impossible to get anything done.” he leaned back to the table, “How’s your dad?”

“He has some health issues.” You said, making him raise his brows “Nothing serious, it’s just…he can’t really stand for so long, and he’s getting older, you know? I took over the bakery a while ago so that he could rest and all.”

He gawked at you, “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did no one tell me?”

“I don’t know,” you confessed, “It’s no big deal, really. He sends his condolences by the way.”

He nodded slowly and you bit inside your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of the new yet intimidating mob boss holding a cupcake.

“I wanted to tell you,” he cleared his throat, “Even if my father is dead, the deal still stands between him and your dad. Nobody touches the bakery, it’s the neutral ground so you don’t need to worry—“

“Bucky, I’m not here for that.” You interrupted him and he looked almost taken aback.

“What?”

“I’m not here to ask for something or talk about deals, I’m here to pay my respects. Your father was always nice to me and I will miss him, that’s the least I could do.”

He blinked a couple of times in confusion and something told you this was the first time he was hearing something like that without a request following it.

“Oh.” He turned his head to grab the glass of whiskey on the desk which made you think he had been closing deals left and right since the morning at the same office and it probably wasn’t his first glass of the day.

“Would you want some?”

“No thank you.” You said as you watched him down it in one gulp and you shifted your weight, nibbling on your lip.

“Let me guess,” you said softly, “Business doesn’t wait for funerals to end, huh?”

He lowered his gaze, his rings tapping against the glass as he heaved a shaky sigh.

“It really doesn’t.” he murmured but something in his voice was so barely held together that your body moved before you could realize what you were doing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and it was only when his body froze against yours that you realized what you had just done. You were just about to pull back and apologize when you felt his arms sneaking around your body, holding you tight and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he had pressed his nose into your hair to inhale deeply.

“Do you need anything?” you asked when you pulled back and a small smile graced his lips for the first time.

“No,” he murmured, “Thanks peaches.”

Ah.

That nickname again.

You had almost forgotten about it.

“How’s your uh…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “How’s your fiancé?”

Your smile faded slightly as it dawned on you, “My-? Oh right, you don’t know. We broke up a couple of months ago.”

His head shot up, “What?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged your shoulders, “He sort of- well, not sort of, he cheated on me, so….”

He frowned. “You should’ve told me.”

“Why?”

“I would’ve sent someone around.”

A small laughter escaped from your lips and you shook your head.

“Bucky, you can’t get a guy beaten up because he cheated on me.”

“Sounds like he deserved it though.”

“No way.” you said, “It’s fine. How about you? Do you…?” you trailed off, and it wasn’t fair that your heart skipped a beat while waiting for an answer, not at all.

“Do I have a fiancée?” Bucky finished the question for you and chuckled, “No.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fiancée.” You said, “You know… a significant other.”

He tilted his head, that amused smile playing on his lips and you scrunched up your face.

“You know what, I’m prying. Just ignore me okay? It’s not a good thing to talk about at a funeral—“

“Peaches, I’ve been listening to people talk about money, deals, or their memories about my father the whole day. Trust me, this…slice of normalcy feels better than you could ever imagine.”

You looked up at into his bloodshot eyes, something in your stomach twisting painfully before you licked at your lips.

“Alright,” you said, “Normalcy then?”

“Yes please.”

“I came up with a new cupcake the other day,” you said, “I mean I’m sure I didn’t come up with it, but I tried it by myself and it’s pretty good, you know?”

“Will it give me salmons?” he asked and you shot him a look, trying to hide your surprise that he still remembered that.

“No.” you said, “It’s a bourbon cupcake, all those moms on Pinterest will worship me.”

He blinked a couple of times and held up the half-eaten cupcake,

“There’s a cupcake out there that can make me drunk and I’m eating a non-alcoholic one on my father’s funeral?” he deadpanned “When did you become so cruel?”

Your jaw dropped and you bit down a smile.

“You should be careful,” you said, “I know a guy who can send people around if someone is mean to me.”

He grinned and held up his hands, mocking surrender.

“I know a threat when I hear one,” he said and someone cleared their throat by the door, making you look over your shoulder to see Steve leaning against the doorframe.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “Sam needs to talk to you Buck.”

“Right now?” Bucky stole a look at you and you waved a hand in the air,

“It’s okay, I gotta get Em from school anyway, I should go.”

Bucky pulled his brows together,

“Your sister goes to school now?” he asked, “Wasn’t she a toddler like yesterday?”

“She’s in first grade now Bucky.”

“Jesus Christ I’m getting old.” He muttered to himself, making Steve chuckle.

“You’ve just realized that?” he asked and you smiled at Bucky.

“Take care, okay?”

“You too. Thanks for…being here.” His eyes searched yours, “Send your dad my regards.”

“Will do.” You said and nodded at Steve before walking out of the room, your cheeks still burning.

All the way to Emma’s school, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was slamming against your chest, and you bit at your lip, trying to focus on something else, anything else. You took a deep breath, and turned your head when the door to passenger seat opened and Emma got in the car.

“Hi!” she smiled at you brightly and put her seatbelt on, “I have no homework today!”

You let out a small laugh, “Is that right?” you asked and she nodded.

“Can we go and see the aquarium? Please? Please please please? They say there’s a whale there, a huge one!”

“Okay, okay…” you raised your brows, “Breathe, and yes we can go see the aquarium.”

“Then after aquarium can we have a tea party?”

“You might have to wait for that, kiddo.” You winked at her, “I need to drop by the bakery.”

“Wait, then I can come to the bakery too,” she said, “I can help, you said you would let me help if I got a star.”

“Did you get a star?”

“I will!” she insisted, making you smile at her fondly and you hmmed.

“You can help me yes, but you can’t eat what we’re making, okay? Not this time, I’ll give you a cookie instead.”

She pursed her lips, frowning. “Why not?”

You started the car, your stomach making a pleasant flip before you turned the steering wheel.

“Because Em,” you muttered, “We’re making grown up cupcakes for a friend.”

Chapter 2

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #mobster!au #mob!au #mobster bucky #mobster!bucky #mob!bucky #mobster!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob au #avengers #gangster au #gangster!au #gangster!bucky barnes #gangster bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you

[ragingbookdragon]

Panthera Felidae et Celeritas

Barry Allen x Meta!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Gonna make a second part...sometime...later...Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The meta-human was fast. And while he wasn’t as fast as Barry, he’d managed to snap the speedster’s femur with a well-placed kick. Barry went down, holding his leg whilst he grit his teeth and shoved his bone back into place so it’d heal; Hal landed beside him, ready to pick up the slack and protect his best friend.

Striding towards them, the meta had a sick grin on his face as he ribbed, “I’m going to use your spine as a toothpick, Lantern.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Hal shot back, baring his teeth as he raised his arm, ready to form a construct when a hulking figure of orange, black, and white fur darted from around the corner of a building, sprinting right up to the meta.

It reared onto its hind legs, one big front paw swiping down harshly at the meta, connecting to the middle of its back, and both Hal and Barry watched the man’s eyes widen in first a look of shock, the next of pain as a sickening crack sent the meta to the ground, upper body spazzing as their lower body stilled.

“I can’t feel my back!” he screamed in agony and the beast bent down, its face next to the man’s and opened its mouth, snarling fiercely, flashing long, razor sharp canines. The meta whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and the beast took one last look at him before turning its golden eyes onto Barry and Hal.

They stared back with equal mixtures of fear, but the beast chuffed and turned tail, bounding away as quickly as it had come.

“What the fuck just happened?” Hal asked.

Barry shook his head, blue eyes wide as he said, “I have no idea…but I think there’s a tiger loose in Central City.”

***

There were big cat sightings all over Central City—cheetahs, cougars, jaguars, leopards, snow leopards, ligers, lions, tigers; someone even said they saw a saber tooth tiger, which Barry highly doubted, but sure enough when he’d gotten to the scene and tested the DNA, it linked to a few scientific discoveries and genomes closely relating to the extinct beast.

He’d half a mind to bring the League in on the discoveries, but the animals weren’t killing people, and he was still reeling on how to explain to his team that there were animals running around that weren’t even native to the US, nor having populations in the state. Oddly enough though, the animals were never seen in the same place at the same time. Each sighting was on a different night with a different big cat, telling Barry that this had to be some type of trainer releasing the cats on particular times.

He spent almost an hour, well a human hour, not a speedster hour, triangulating territory across Central City before he finally found a common location inside the sightings—an old amusement park that had been shut down a few years before, waiting on renovations when someone would finally buy it.

So, what did Barry do? What Barry did best—he went alone to see which kitty cat he could find first.

***

The entire park was eerie, dark and creaking, rusted metal and cracked plastic everywhere. It almost made him think of those post-apocalyptic video games. Still though, he quelled his fears, though they boiled in his stomach, and hopped over the barriers, quietly walking the silent park.

Every noise had the hair on the back of his neck rising, turning in circles to look behind him at whatever it was, and at one point, he briefly considered calling for Superman—nothing gave you nerves of steel like the Man of Steel.

Shaking his head, he reaffirmed his own abilities. He could do this. He was fast enough to escape danger, he just had to sense it coming.

The sound of nails on metal echoed in Barry’s ears and he shivered, peeking around the corner of an abandoned booth to see a sleek black jaguar scratching at a metal door until it shoved open, and it slipped inside.

His brows furrowed and he looked around before quickly following it, slipping inside the doorway. It led down a further hall and into a tunnel, and with the large metal pistons and wheels in the walls, he assumed it was the underneath of an out of order roller coaster.

Glancing down, he saw paw prints in the dusty ground that obviously hadn’t been disturbed in a couple decades. Barry frowned and continued down the hallway, coming around a corner.

The second he turned it, he ran smack dab into something, and he gasped, immediately shoving out. Whatever had run into him went to the ground with a pained grunt and he blinked in the darkness, looking down, surprise bleeding through him as a woman’s face cleared in the darkness.

Barry had so many thoughts running through his head, but their safety overrode it and he bent down, hauling her up as he whispered harshly, “Never mind what you’re doing here, we have to leave now.”

“What?” she hissed back, letting him tug her down the hallway. “Who are you!”

“My name is Barry. I work at CCPD.” He glanced back at her, well, over her shoulder. “There’s a big cat somewhere down here and we need to get away. If my calculations are right, there are more around.”

“Wait, you know?” she questioned, feet skidding to a halt and Barry looked back at her.

“What do you mean? That the big cats are hiding around here?” she nodded, and he tipped his head. “Yeah. I figured it out with the police scans and public sightings.”

Her jaw started to go slack, and he tugged her again. “C’mon, we have to get out of here before that panther comes back.”

“It’s a jaguar.”

He stopped. “What?”

She pulled her wrist out of his grip. “It’s a black jaguar not a panther.”

Barry cocked a brow. “How do you know?”

“I…” she seemed hesitant, diverting her gaze. “I can’t tell you right now.” She hurried past him. “But you don’t have to worry. There are no cats here.”

“But my calculations—”

“Are wrong, Blake. There are no cats here.”

“It’s Barry,” he retorted. “Barry.”

“Whatever your name is,” she scowled, pushing the door open so they could both get out.

As they did, he pulled out his phone and shone the flashlight upwards so he could see her features. “Who are you?”

She blinked. “It’s not important.”

“It is. If you know about the big cats roaming the city and hurting people, then I need to know.”

Her face pinched. “They’re not hurting people. They’re helping.”

Barry recalled the meta-human incident—the meta’s spine had been broken in one swipe of that tiger’s paw. “Breaking spines and other important body parts isn’t helping people.”

“It’s not like I’m eating the criminals!” she shouted, then slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and Barry gaped at her.

“What did you just say?”

She shook her head. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything!”

“No, you said something alright. It sounded like you said you weren’t eating the criminals.” He leaned closer. “Who are you and what do you know about the cats?”

For a moment, she merely gazed at him, then she let out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as she resigned herself. “Alright…I’ll talk.” She exhaled. “My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I’m a part-timer at the STAR Labs research facility. A few months ago…I was helping one of the scientists identify a common DNA strand found in the Panthera family and how it would react if spliced together in a new animal when—”

She trailed off, unsure of herself and Barry encouraged, “When?”

(Y/N) sighed again. “I don’t know. There was a mistake with the experiment. Some kind of electromagnetic shock that caused an entire building outage.”

“What else?” he questioned, and she shrugged.

“When we went inside after the power was back on, the test subject was deceased. Doctor Lesia asked me to clean up and I did, but I must’ve gotten contaminated somehow. Maybe through an open wound? I don’t know.”

She inhaled, meeting Barry’s blue eyes. “The DNA sequencing experiment didn’t fail though.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked curiously and she looked towards the door.

“Give me a moment.” As she walked back inside, she quickly stuck her head out and said, “Don’t be alarmed and don’t run, okay?”

He was wary of that and after a few moments, he heard scratching at the door and the door handle bent down, then the door pulled open, and the black jaguar bounded out.

Barry was quick to step back with a sharp, “Shit!” but the cat didn’t do anything, it merely sat down and looked at him; he took a closer look, eyes widening and he breathed, “Oh my God…it resequenced your DNA.”

She nodded, making a low growling noise, then disappeared back inside, only to reappear herself once more. “I’ve been able to transform into any cat whose DNA sequence belongs to the Panthera family.” (Y/N) shook her head. “I have to transform at least once a day, or it’ll happen without my control, and I can’t risk it happening at my job or out in public. So, I come here and transform, then run around Central City.”

“And fight crime,” he surmised, and she tipped her head side to side.

“It didn’t start out like that, honest. I realized I had all this energy pent up and running and scouring seemed to get it out.” (Y/N) blinked. “The first time I ever fought ‘crime’ was when I stopped a meta human from attacking Flash and Green Lantern.”

Barry stared at her. “You broke the meta-human’s spine.”

She winced. “I…didn’t realize I’d hit him with that much strength…but it was that or risk him hurting another hero and I didn’t want that to happen.” (Y/N) looked at him. “Please…please don’t tell anybody you know this. I’ll stop, just please don’t tell anyone. If you do, who knows what government science squad will come after me and kidnap me.”

Her face was the picture of pure terror and she reached out, grabbing Barry’s jacket, tears welling in her eyes as she begged again, “Please Barry, don’t tell anyone.”

Barry took her hands, squeezing them gently. “I won’t. I promise.”

She blinked tearfully and asked, “You won’t?”

“No, I won’t tell.” He smiled at her and fiddled with the ring on his hand, showing her the lightning symbol on it. “Not after I owe you for saving me and Green Lantern.”

(Y/N) eyes widened, and she gaped at the ring, then at his face. “You—you’re him…the Flash.”

He nodded. “Yeah.” Barry sighed, looking around, seeing the moon high in the sky. “Look, it’s late right now. Why don’t we both go home for the night and meet up sometime later?”

“To do what?” she questioned, and he met her eyes.

“Well, I doubt we’ll be able to undo the resequencing of your DNA. There’s no telling how damaging it could be to you if we try.” He thought for a moment, then decided, “So how about this, we meet up, and we’ll see about training you.”

(Y/N)’s face pinched. “But I’m not a speedster?”

“True, but technically you’re like me. You’re a meta-human now.” Barry smiled, wide and toothy. “And if there’s one thing I know how to do—it’s help meta-humans control their powers.”

She searched his gaze for a few moments, then she nodded. “Alright…that seems like a fair plan.” (Y/N) held out her hand and Barry took it, shaking it firmly. “Glad to be apart of the team, Flash.”

“Glad to have you, er…” his brows furrowed. “Do you have a name yet?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips in thought, then her face lit up and she replied, “Panthera.” Barry snorted and she flushed. “I know…I’m a nerd.”

He shook his head. “So am I.”

#barry allen x reader imagine #barry allen x reader imagines #barry allen x reader #barry allen imagine #barry allen imagines #barry allen #flash x reader imagine #flash x reader imagines #flash x reader #flash imagines #flash imagine #flash #the flash #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc #hal jordan #green lantern #green lantern corps #green lanterns #flashfamily x reader #flashfamily x reader imagines #flashfamily x reader imagine #flashfamily imagines #flashfamily imagine #flashfamily

[solastia]

The Dragon’s Lair - 7

- SEOKJIN’S POV -

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x F!Reader (although she’s kinda OC now huh?)

A/N: Kinda on the short side, I apologize. But I wanted us to get a quick peek into Jin’s side of things and where his mind is. Any guesses on who his mate might be? ;) 

*****

He wasn’t sure what had woken him up. The house was silent beyond Namjoon’s snores that he could hear coming through the old walls. He waited a few seconds to see if he could hear anything else or catch a scent, but it was all clear. There was just something pricking at his mind - something making his instincts go wild. He’d blame the fact that he was in a new house but this wasn’t a new feeling. 

It had begun when his ride here had traveled past the sea. He’d gotten a whiff of fresh ocean air and his fur had instantly bristled up. His claws had lengthened involuntarily and he’d had to exercise every scrap of self-control he possessed so he wouldn’t leap out of the moving vehicle and run full-shift towards whatever that scent had been. 

Seokjin groans and cracks open his eyes, still heavy with sleep. He might as well take a trip to the bathroom while he was already awake. He yawns and forces himself out of the comfy bed, scratching his belly sleepily. Even now, the scent was clear to him. There had been the smell of the ocean, yes, but...something else. Something other like him. 

The realistic part of Seokjin’s brain said maybe his exotic side had simply found a scent it liked and that’s that. But when he allowed himself to be more fanciful, like now when it was three am and he was still half asleep, he listened to the Sphinx screaming, “mate, mate, MATE!,” and he didn’t hate the idea. 

He’d been alone for so very long that it sounded like a dream. A fairytale ending for his Cinderella story. 

Not that Namjoon was any sort of evil stepsister, nor his mate that exuded naivety and goodness from every pore. If anything, he knew that he was particularly blessed to have Heechul hyung looking out for him and talking this human into taking him in. He would have dealt with having to be in the shelter again, but quite honestly he was too old to do well there. He was a grown Sphinx used to independence and being at the top of his hierarchy. 

He finishes in the bathroom and sighs heartily, deciding sleep was going to be impossible now. Might as well help himself to the kitchen. He shuffled quietly there and peeked inside the fridge, horrified once again by the contents. How have these two been keeping alive? The fridge only contained very basic ingredients like eggs and milk, a bottle of soy sauce, and not a single vegetable in sight. 

He settles for making a couple of fried eggs, using them to top off the bowl of instant rice he pilfered from the cupboards. He gives it all a splash of soy sauce so it’s not completely flavorless and sits at the kitchen table, eating his little meal slowly. 

It always seemed like nights were harder for some reason. Like the dark vastness of the sky reminded him of how empty his life had become - of how much he missed his parents. 

He’d seriously lucked out when the two had walked into the shelter all those years ago. He’d been a bit older than the usual desired age for hybrid adoptions so he hadn’t expected much when Heechul had escorted the couple towards the exotic section. He’d stayed in his corner of the room playing his video game, but he’d kept an eye on them as they smiled and shook hands with all the desperate little ones crowding them. They seemed genuinely nice, with smiles that lit up their eyes and the man always making his wife laugh. 

When they finally got close enough, Seokjin greedily scented the air, thinking if he ever had someone pick him he hoped they smelled as good as these two. The man - though obviously old for a human - smelled strong and healthy. Faint hints of cigar smoke and old books clung to him almost as much as his mate’s scent did. And his mate - the wife - smelled exactly how Seokjin had always thought a mother would. A light hint of expensive perfume couldn’t cloud the endorphins that were coming off of her in waves from being surrounded by the little ones. She was older too - perhaps younger than her husband by no more than a handful of years - but she too seemed to be in good health. She smelled so comforting to Seokjin that he stopped paying attention to his game and let his little avatar get killed three times in a row as he glued his eyes on the woman. 

Heechul actually herded the pair towards him and he set down his controller and bowed formally, wanting to make a good impression despite the fact that he knew they would never pick him. He’d thought they’d merely shake his hand and move on, but the man had kept asking him questions about his hobbies and what he wanted to do when he grew up. The woman kept staring at him with her hand held to her chest like she’d been shocked by something. 

It wasn’t until a half-hour later when Heechul had called him into his office with the pair that he realized she’d decided she wanted him. A mere few minutes and she’d decided she was his mother and no one else’s. “You’re so handsome I fell in love at first sight, my Jinnie,” she’d always say. 

He’d had nineteen wonderful years with them before pneumonia took them both within days of each other. Nineteen years filled with happiness and laughter with two of the most loving people he’d ever met. He missed his routines with them - the fishing every weekend with his dad, cooking with his mom, the Sundays all three of them would sit around with face masks and watch movies. 

When they’d passed away, his heart had broken. He’d known it was inevitable - they were both getting old and frail - but he’d thought he’d have just a little more time with them. After the funeral, he waited with bated breath for someone to storm in and drag him off to be put down somewhere. When nothing had happened, he’d grown steadily more careless, often forgetting he wasn’t supposed to be on his own with the big house and vast wealth. He’d carried on with his life like he knew his parents would have wanted him to. He kept going to med school since his dad had pulled so many strings to let him attend, he tried going on dates that never went anywhere, he hung out with his friends whenever he had the time. Life went on. 

Trying to stop the robber had been stupid of him - he knew that now. He should have just let the man get away and then never reported him so he’d be left alone...but once he spied his mother’s favorite pearls in the man’s hand he’d lost his shit. He’d fully shifted, letting his wings out and knocking over a couple of vases with their width, and his nails expanded until finally he’d roared and the robber had screamed and thrown the nearest item at his head in his rush to escape. Unfortunately, that item had been his mother’s bird statue that was made entirely of gold, so he’d been knocked out cold. His friend had found him after he hadn’t shown up to their gaming session and called the police and an ambulance, where they took his blood and found out that he was a hybrid with deceased owners and proceeded to shove him in the nearest pound while they contacted his mother’s very distant cousin. 

He’d never even gotten to meet this so-called cousin before the fat lawyer that smelled like fried chicken rushed him out of his own home, making him leave behind even the belongings that were his. He had no idea what use the cousin had for his manga or video game collection. Let alone the used sports jerseys or his hamper full of dirty clothes. 

Thankfully Heechul existed and he’d been able to contact his old caregiver before he was sent to the state center. He knew that place was a death sentence. And now here he was, in a strange home with barely anything besides his small suitcase. He missed his dad. He missed his mom. He missed feeling loved and hopeful for the future. He missed the way his dad always knew what to do. He missed the way his mom would brush his mane and groom his feathers while she sang. 

Seokjin cleared his throat and swiped at his suddenly wet cheek. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. He shook his head and went to the sink to wash his dishes, heading back to his room when he finished for another sleepless night. 

****

Life in the ‘Dragon’s Lair’ (as he’d taken to calling it, despite said dragon’s constant eye-rolling) began to take on a new normal the longer he was there. Days began to blend into each other as he struggled to adjust himself to his new reality, but Namjoon and his mate were a great help. 

Luckily, his tuition had been prepaid by his father and the cousin had no way of taking his education away from him, so he still took his classes - albeit mostly online because he wanted to stay in his room most of the time. 

Money was thankfully of no immediate issue. There was more money in the book than he’d felt comfortable sharing with anyone, enough that he could still go years without a job if he needed to. He also knew that if he needed it, he could always ask Heechul for help, although the other would make him work in the cafe for it. He might do it anyway just for something to do. 

Namjoon and his mate were simply wonderful. His old friend had grown up into a great person who was sweet and intelligent, good to the people he cared about, and strong in ways that he probably wasn’t even aware of. His mate Star was just as good. She was funny and kind, with just enough sass to be interesting. And they were both sickeningly in love with each other to the point that Seokjin had to leave the house quite often to get some peace. Not that it upset him - he was incredibly happy for Namjoon. It just sometimes emphasizes how alone he was. 

But yes, Star was great. There was just...something about her. Something that drew him to her. Not in a sexual or attraction kind of way...more like - primal. Like the animal side of him saw her as a protector. Which, he supposed she kinda was since she was housing exotic hybrids, but still. He couldn’t figure it out. He was certain she was completely human, but sometimes underneath the frankly nauseating amount of reptile musk that she was constantly covered with, he could catch hints of the forest in her natural scent. Sure, there was a forest nearby, but why would the scent cling to her like that? There was something there and luckily for him, there was nothing he enjoyed more than a good riddle. 

Beyond that, there was still one other pressing issue. His mate. 

He knew they were out there. He knew he’d caught their scent. When he’d passed the sea he’d been certain they were there. He just needed to find them. He didn’t want them to be alone too. 

“Jin, we’re about to head to the mall. Do you want to come shopping with us? The weather’s clearing up and I promised Namjoon we’d go to the ocean,” Star asked with a bright smile as he exited his room. 

“The ocean?” he responded, his brain halting for a second. Fate was working her magic, was she? 

“Yeah, he’s been wanting to go for a while but it’s been too cold. I thought we’d rent a small beach house and spend the weekend. So you’ll need swim trunks and towels, stuff like that. If you’d rather stay here, that’s fine too. It’s up to you.” 

“No,” he rushed, feeling his ears go red with embarrassment as he let his eagerness show. “It’s fine. I’d love to go.” 

“Great!” Star grinned, threading an arm with his as she leads him out to the yard. “We’ll have so much fun!” 

He nods silently, his nose trying in vain to catch that salty scent on the air again. 

I’m coming. Just wait for me. 

#bts #the dragon's lair #solastia #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #hybrid au #hybrid!au #hybrid!bts #hybrid!namjoon #hybrid!seokjin #dragon!au #sphinx #bts au

[wicked-mind]

Spark: Chapter One

Summary: Y/N and Damon were apart of a Hydra experiment for over a decade until they escaped. When power outages through towns along with bodies of murdered Hydra agents start popping up across the country, Y/N becomes Bucky’s mission.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Mentions of psychiatric facilities, death of enemies, heavy drinking, a hint of PTSD

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

Note: Set post Endgame. Yes, Damon is based on Damon from The Vampire Diaries. Though, he isn’t a vampire, just another super soldier. Who wouldn’t want the gorgeous duo of Damon and Bucky in a story together? (: Also, whoever came up with the nickname 'Bucket' for Bucky, you are my favorite.

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Chapter One: Tequila

-7 Months Prior-

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She was admitted to a psychiatric facility by her parents who waived their rights as her parental figures when she was thirteen. The staff there found her to be completely sane as well as no harm to herself or others, so they discharged her. After she was discharged, she was placed into foster care until she was adopted four months later. Then she fell off the grid for a little over a decade.” Sam said, briefing Bucky. Y/N’s face was on the screen with details, as well as security footages of her from street cameras, “ Until two years ago. There’s been seven power surges that have knocked out the electricity in entire towns from unknown causes and her face has been seen around the epicenter of the outage at every single one before the power went out. ” Sam said, before flipping the screen to show 31 faces of deceased new-aged Hydra agents, “These bodies were also found in the towns when the outages happened. Some have their necks snapped, others have their hearts ripped out, most of them also have electrical burns. We need to know if it is Y/N doing this and how. She could be a threat. Y/N has owned a bar in Covington, Georgia for about six months.” He narrowed his eyes at Bucky, “You sure you’re ready for this?”

Bucky sat back in his chair, studying the images on the screen and listening intently. He looked like a statue, except for his eye movement. He nodded as Sam finished, “Yeah. I got it.” He said sternly, grabbing the folder with all the information on it in front of him before exiting the room. To him, Y/N looked harmless. But the evidence was stacked against her.

-Present Time-

Bucky had been in Covington for seven months. He had been doing recon on Y/N, watching and trailing everywhere he went. He even tried to get into her house once, but she had six locks on the door, the windows nailed shut, and an expensive state of the art security system that he couldn’t get passed without setting it off. He couldn’t give her any reason to suspect someone was watching her. Since Bucky had been in town, fourteen more Hydra agents had been killed, the last one was the night before.

He opens the door to The Tipsy Dog, the bar owned by Y/N, dressed in black pants with the same black leather jacket he always wore.. He had become a regular there, trying to create small talk with Y/N. She seemed too nice to be the one doing what Sam thought she was. She didn’t seem like the murdering type, let alone strong enough to snap someone’s neck or rip a heart out. Bucky took his regular seat at the edge of the bar, a cold beer already waiting for him like it had been for the past two months. He remembered when he first met Y/N, she had a warm greeting smiling at him. Sometimes he would come in and she would have mysterious bruises along her arms in the shape of hand prints. He also noted that she had three little scars on each side of her neck in shapes of triangles, but had never gotten around to asking how she got them.

“Right on time!” Y/N said to Bucky, breaking his train of thought. She stood in front of him across the bar, wearing a black shirt and jeans, a black apron around her waist, “I’m getting better at this. Had it out of the fridge, like, two seconds before you walked in the door.”

Bucky smiled, picking up the beer in his gloved hand, “Thank you.” He said, raising his beer to her before taking a swig of it. He noticed the fresh bruises shaped like a hand on her wrist quickly with his eyes, before returning his gaze to Y/N who was still smiling.

“Anything for my best customer.” Y/N said with a smile, grabbing out a white towel to wipe down the counter in front of her.

“C’mon, I thought I was your best customer.” A dark headed man appeared at the bar next to Bucky. He was wearing jeans with a dark grey t-shirt, his blue eyes watching Y/N carefully. Bucky had seem him often at the bar, always talking to Y/N. Immediately recognizing his voice, Damon. Bucky couldn’t figure out much about him. He disappeared as quickly as he appeared. Sometimes Y/N and Damon went outside the bar to bicker. If anybody was killing Hydra agents out of the two, it was definitely that guy. He seemed sketchy to Bucky. Dangerous. He couldn’t quite figure out what the relationship between him and Y/N was to each other.

Y/N’s smile faded a little bit as she turned to the man, “No. The best customers pay their bill, Damon. I have to pay for all that bourbon you drink. Five hundred dollars of bourbon for you alone in six months.” She said as she tilted her head and narrowing eyes, folding her arms across her chest.

Damon smirked at her, leaning his elbows on the counter to look up at her face, “Ah, c’mon Y/N. I thought we were even for the, you know.” He nodded over to the bruises on Y/N’s wrist with a little wink.

Y/N opened her mouth to rebuttal him, but her eyes flicker to Bucky who was watching the thing unfold next to him, taking another sip of his beer with an eyebrow raised. She turns her eyes back towards Damon, “Outside. Now.” She said through her teeth, taking off her apron and putting it on the counter. She walked around the bar and grabbed Damon’s arm, dragging him outside. She turned around and started talking loudly at him once they were on the dark sidewalk.

Bucky kept his gaze ahead, listening in on their loud conversation with his enhanced hearing.

“You can’t just come in to my bar making comments about my bruises in front of customers. You make it sound like I have a kink fetish with you,” Y/N slapped his chest before returning her arms to a fold, “We are trying to keep a low profile, remember? I like it here. I don’t want to be talked about around town.”

Damon raised his eyebrows at her again, the smirk never leaving his lips, “Okay, first off Sparky, I saved your life. Again.” He said using his nickname for her, pointing his finger at her which was immediately swatted away by Y/N, “And second, since when do you care?” He paused, looking back in the window at Bucky before looking back to Y/N, “Wait.. is that your mysterious biker boy?” His smirk widened, “What was his name again, Prancer.. maybe Rudolph. He looks more like a Rudolph.”

Y/N put her fingers to the bridge of her nose. Damon had been naming reindeer names since she had first told him about Bucky, “Bucky, Damon. His name is Bucky.”

“Ah that’s right! Good ol’ mysterious Bucket.” Damon grinned. That was his other favorite nickname.

Y/N sighs in defeat. She could never get him to stop, “Bucky.” She reminded again, “Five hundred dollars, Damon. I want it the next time I see you. Or else.” She was pointing her finger at him as she spoke, before turning on her heels and walking back into the bar while Damon walked away defeated.

Bucky chuckled at Y/N’s threat. She didn’t even sound threatening. He didn’t like Damon much though, but hearing that Y/N talked to Damon like she had a crush on Bucky made him smile a little bit. He honestly liked Y/N, she was always happy and kind. Plus this was a way to get closer to her for his mission. He watched as she came back around the bar in front of him, pulling out a bottle of half empty tequila and poured herself a shot. He watched with his eyebrows raised and a small smile as she swallowed it down without making a face.

“Sorry about that.” Y/N said to Bucky after taking the shot, pouring herself more tequila into the shot glass, “Do you want some?” She offered, holding the bottle out for him until he nodded and she placed it back down on the counter.

Bucky chuckled again as she took another shot, shaking his head no at her offer, “Boyfriend trouble?” He asks, taking another sip of his beer.

Y/N laughed a little at his comment, turning and pulling another beer out of the cooler passing it to him, “Damon? God no. We are just friends.” She paused, “Except for right now. Right now we are… Frienemies.” She determined with a small nod.

Bucky nodded, opening his new beer and taking another drink of it before speaking, “Frenemies. Got it.” He repeated, “Did he do that to your wrist?” He said, motioning towards the bruises. He was genuinely curious, Damon didn’t seem like the type Y/N would hang around. He seemed dangerous and the total opposite of her.

Y/N looked down at her wrist, pursing her lips together as she thought of what to say, “Uhm… No, I… Uhm.” She looked at Bucky, blurting out the first thing that popped into her head, “Got my hand stuck in the sink drain.” Y/N slightly winced at the stupid lie, embarrassed. ‘You idiot,’ she thought.

Bucky noticed her wince when she lied. She definitely wasn’t good at lying. He was getting more information tonight than he has in the last seven months. He watched her walk away to go help some of the last customers, leaving the two alone in the bar.

Y/N walks over the door, turning off the neon sign that said ‘OPEN’ and locking the door. She walks back to bar, pouring herself another shot of tequila, “So you don’t drink tequila. Do you drink anything besides beer?” She asks, looking at him with a smile.

Bucky smiled as he watched her pour another shot, “Occasionally whiskey.” He shrugged, bringing the bottle of beer back to his lips. He watched her pull out a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass, filling it up in front of him.

“On the house.” Y/N smiled as she waited for him to cheers her shot glass.

Bucky shook his head laughing a little, “Oh no, doll. I just watched you chew out your frenemy for having free alcohol. I don’t want to be chewed out too.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, still smiling, “That’s because he owes me five hundred dollars, which makes him a bad customer. You on the other hand,” She said, pushing the shot of whiskey closer to him with her free hand, “Are a good customer. You don’t owe me a dime. And good customers get to hang out after hours and drink with the cool bartender.”

Bucky chuckled at her response and picked up the shot of whiskey, cheering her’s before downing it without a flinch, setting the glass back down. He smiled at her as she swiftly filled it back up again with the whiskey and then poured her another shot of tequila.

“Want to play a game?” Y/N asks, pulling out an empty glass and some change out of pocket, “Rules are simple. You flick the coins into the glass, you get three coins and three tries per turn. One of us makes more coins into the glass, the other person takes a shot.” She smiled, flicking one of the coins into the glass as an example.

Bucky nodded, “Simple enough. I warn you though, you’re going to lose. You better not be driving tonight.” He smiled at her, flirting a little bit.

Y/N smiles and wrinkles her nose at his competitiveness, “I’ll walk, I don’t live far. But you got some competition on your hands.” She said, taking her turn.

After six rounds, Y/N had managed to take four shots of tequila and Bucky taking two of whiskey. She was pretty sure he let her win the two times, which she was thankful for. She was pretty buzzed. Y/N cleaned up their glasses as they got ready to leave, Bucky had offered to walk her to make sure she got home alright. They walked down the street after locking up the bar, making small conversations along the way.

Bucky looked over at her curiously, his hands in his pockets as they walked, “You and Damon bicker like an old married couple. You guys must have been frenemies for a long time.” He said, trying to open up a conversation to learn more about Y/N and Damon.

Y/N nods, a soft smile on her lip, “Yeah, we’ve been through a lot together. I’ve known him a little over a decade. We share similar trauma.” She said, looking at the ground.

Bucky nodded, “I know all about trauma. Even tried therapy, it helped a little bit.” He said honestly with a shrug, “Ever tried it?” He remembered what Sam had said, Y/N had disappeared for a little over a decade. Maybe she had been with Damon all that time.

Y/N shook her head, looking over at him, “Nah. I believe for therapy to be helpful, you have to be truly honest about your trauma. And there’s things I’m not ready to be honest about yet.” She said with a small smile, stopping in front of an old looking house, “This is me.” She gestured towards the house.

Bucky looked it over, he had been here before. He knew the outside like the back of his hand from doing surveillance on the outside. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the curtains lift a little bit at the bottom of one of the windows, only to be met with a fluffy white face staring back at him, “Is that a dog?”

Y/N looked over to where he was looking, squinting to see the white fluff staring at her, “Oh yeah, that’s Sarge my dog. You want to meet him?” She asks curiously as she looked back to Bucky with a smile.

This was Bucky’s chance to see inside, maybe put some bugs in her house for him to listen to, “I’d love to.” He smiled at her, following her up the steps to the front door. He watched as she unlocked the six padlocks on the front before opening the door and clicking the security system to disarm it. She flicks on the light then opens the door wider for him to step inside which he gladly does. Bucky took in as much of the house as he could see. She didn’t have much furniture and it wasn’t really decorated. He turns his attention to the large white dog who approached him sniffing, kneeling down to rub it’s head, “Hello Sarge, nice to meet you, I’m Bucky. What kind of dog is he?"

Y/N smiled at how friendly Bucky was to her dog, “He’s a german shepherd malamute mix. I adopted him about nine months ago from the shelter. He’s a retired military dog.” She said. Just then, the lights flickered off throughout the house, “Dammit. The fuse box blew again, I’ll be back. Sarge stay with Bucky.” She said to her dog before disappearing out the front door. Y/N walked around the side of her house, opening the metal panel to the fuse box. She looks around before lifting her hand to the box, little blue electrical sparks zapping from her finger tips to the box, causing the lights to flicker back on in the house. Y/N never had to pay for power, she would just zap the power back on when it went out. She had this ability all her life, and when her parents found out they sent her away to psychiatric care and waived their rights as her guardian. Y/N shut the fuse box and made her way back inside to find her dog still sitting by Bucky, “Thanks for walking me home, Bucky. I’ll see you tomorrow around the usual time?” She asks with a smile.

Bucky had managed to place a few bugs around the house before Y/N made it back in, Sarge following him around obediently to what his owner had told him. He had returned to where he was standing originally, his hands in his pockets, “Anytime, Y/N. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said with a smile and walked out the door with a soft goodbye, walking down the street until he was out of view. He would hang around close tonight, try to learn more from the bugs he had planted.

Bucky had came back in a black car parked down the street, listening to the bugs planted around the house. It wasn’t too big, so he could hear mostly everything. He heard Y/N opening and closing the fridge while talking to her dog about how she got beat at the coin glass game against him which made him smile. She seemed so harmless. At some point, he heard Damon come over. It sounded like he had given her four hundred and fifty dollars, using the other fifty to buy a half gallon of bourbon. Y/N had accepted the money and thanked him, even if it was short. Y/N went to bed at some point, hearing her tell Damon good night and setting the security system before Sarge followed her upstairs. Damon stayed downstairs. Bucky could hear him watching tv down in the living room.

In the early morning hours, Y/N had a nightmare. Bucky could hear her breathing and whimpering from the bugs. It caused him to frown, wondering what someone who seemed so happy had something to have nightmares about. But then he remembered Y/N saying she had some trauma, wondering if that’s what the nightmares were about. He looked down the street towards her house, noticing the light in the bedroom was flickering on and off as well as some close street lights. He furrowed his brow as he watched and listened, wondering what was happening.

Y/N gripped her blanket as the nightmares started, her body feeling hot. She was stuck, couldn’t force herself awake. She was starting to grip at her neck as if trying to pry something away from it. She could feel her whole body filling with electricity, her fingers tingling as they hummed electrically. It was making her light flicker. That’s when Sarge barked, forcing her to awaken. She sat up in her bed, sliding back against the headboard as she breathed quickly, her fingers still shooting out electric sparks. She was in a panic. Damon had gotten off the couch to enter her room, sitting on her bed.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You’re safe.” Damon said gently. This was a whole different side of Damon that Bucky hadn’t heard from him before, but was thankful he was there to help Y/N.

Y/N looked at Damon with wide eyes, “Damon... I couldn’t get it off,” Her hands went to her neck as she spoke, “… we have to get out of here..” she whispered, her hands moving to grip the sides of her head.

Damon grabs onto her hands, prying then away from her hair, flinching at the shock from her fingers, “Y/N we are safe. Look, we are in your room. Sarge is here. We escaped, remember?” He asked gently, keeping ahold of her hands trying to ground her back to reality.

Y/N looked at Damon, then to Sarge who had moved to stand at her bedside, wagging his tail and leaning his head on her bed. She looked back to Damon and nodded, “Right, home. Home.” She breathed deeply, calming down slowly.

Damon nodded, “Yes, home. Now can you please stop shocking me, Sparky.” He said with a gentle smile, but still flinching a little bit.

Y/N pulled her hands away from his, the crackling electricity disappearing from her fingertips, “Sorry, Damon. I can’t really control it when my mind goes there.” She reached down, petting Sarge’s head to let him know she was alright.

“I know, it’s alright. Do you want to talk about it?” Damon asked softly with a small encouraging smile. He knew it helped to have Y/N walk through her dreams to where she was now to help her feel grounded.

Y/N shook her head, “No, not this time. I’m alright, just going to go back to bed.” She said, patting the end of her bed so Sarge could jump up to lay next to her. Damon had nodded and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Once Y/N was sure he was back downstairs, she looked down at her dog who was staring back at her with his head tilted, black eyes staring at her, “Don’t look at me like that, Sarge. I don’t want to talk about it.” Y/N repeated, laying her head back down onto the pillow and staring up at the ceiling.

Bucky listened until there was silence again, assuming everybody had got back to bed. At least he figured out Y/N was the cause of the power outages, she had to be some sort of enhanced human. But he still didn’t think she was the cause of the murders, but she had some sort of role in them.

#bucky x reader #marvel x reader #damon salvatore x reader #universe mashup #fanficiton #marvel fanficiton #bucky barnes x reader #vampire diaries fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #damon x reader #damon x y/n #bucky x y/n #universe mashup fanficiton

[the-obelisk]

Grief - Fae Collection

Loki x Reader

Summary: A mission gone wrong. The one where he had watched you fall at the hands of a mad man. And also, watched as you crumple in grief at the twist of fate.

“Unhand her or I will kill you myself, mortal.” Loki stepped forward in a protective stance, anger etched into his expression.

The older man looked at him, clutching you even tighter than before, taunting the trickster. “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t play fake hero with me, you—”

“What do you want from her?” Sam asked with urgency in his tone. He was unsure why he had taken you, with no attempt to engage with anyone else.

The man pressed his nose against your head, inhaling deeply. He smiled through the strands of your hair and stared at the two men before him sadistically, “She is my safety ticket out.”

 He smirked. “And by the looks of it, his weakness.” He gestured to Loki.

Sam looked at him with determination, “You know you won’t make it out of here alive. Let her go.”

“But you won’t shoot me if she is my living shield, now would you?” He taunted Sam.

The raven-haired 50-year old scientist looked at you as you felt something sharp press against your back, “Now tell me, agent, what is that little light trick of yours?”

And in that moment all three of you had realized, the mission now posed a real problem.

And you were at the center of it.

The mission was simple: Full team onboard. Part of the team moved to search and secure the civilians, the others were tasked to take out the target.

And there you all were.

One hundred miles from the Avengers compound, it was suspected that Dr. William Endo was kidnapping recent runaways and outcasts from nearby small towns to experiment on.

Tony was sure it would be a day long mission. In and out, until it wasn’t.

Sick of the world over run by super-powered individuals, Endo wanted to harness and transfer those powers into what he deemed his own subservient human army that were effectively trained to combat any threat through one of Hydra’s old brainwashing techniques.

This time all super-powered.

And his end goal: To sell the individuals to highly volatile regimes and dealers on the black market.

Endo had seemed to have his contingency plan all in place. One wrong move and the shout of a code word, the entire compound could be effectively blown up from the bottom up.

Wanda, Natasha, Rhodey, Bucky, and Clint were moving in to secure those in the compound— the issue was that they were underground and the people held against their will were scattered, most likely still being experimented on.

Steve spoke over the comms, “Team Two, heat signatures in the left wing, second level. Thor, back up is needed in the courtyard.”

The team quickly moved. Meanwhile, you, Loki, and Sam had cornered the mastermind in the courtyard.

“Diversion.”

Sam projected his thought to you, and in that instant, you made a fast move to turn around and face Endo. You had planned to blast him with your light, but on the defense, he moved in retaliation.

Taking the blade he held against your back, the man pushed it through your upper abdomen as you conjured your light.

Sam took the shot and Loki ran to catch you before you fell.

Rushing beside you, Sam noticed the pained, hurried look on Loki’s face as he pulled the blade out. His eyes had widened at the sight of the blade itself.

“Brother.” Thor called as he landed on his feet opposite to the two men.

Loki looked up at him in fear, an expression Sam had never seen. “What’s happening? Why aren’t you healing her?”

Moving his eyes to the blade in Loki’s hand, Thor spoke “He cannot heal her.”

“What? He’s healed the others before!” Sam looked at him with confusion and anger.

You were already falling limp and there wasn’t a way to get you to a medic soon enough.

“It is bronze. Deadly to the Fae. No magic can heal the wound.”

Sam shook his head calling all to the courtyard. “Man down in the courtyard!”

Confirmations swarmed in at the other members running towards the location.

Loki held your form, tears forming as he called for you to stay awake. “Stay with me, little one. Do not leave me so soon.”

You looked up at him noting his quivering voice. He wasn’t angry or hurt, but defeated. The idea of you soon slipping from him before he could ever experience all the joys you could possibly bring to him had broken him.

He was reminded of Frigga and her death. Two women that had always seen past the monster and into the soul of a tortured man, now leaving him.

Thor stared in fear. He was her protector, how could he had let this happen. The blonde-man stared helplessly. He couldn’t help you or heal you.

All he could do was simply watch as you began to fade and Loki’s heart breaking in front of him.

“I am not her.” You spoke softly. The three looked at you as your form slowly changed to into a man that would stand a foot taller than you.

Thor’s eyes widened at the sight of the 30-year old mocha skinned man, and kneeled down. “Lord Ambrose.”

Loki looked at Thor in shock. This was the man that had swore Thor in as Y/N protector. “She is safe.”

Sam stared in utter shock. Completely unaware that the man had used a glamour to mirror a version that looked exactly like you.

And then you had entered the courtyard alongside Natasha and Wanda in hurry.

“What can I do?” You said out of breath from running across the lot.

Only you and Loki had the power to heal, however, yours were more helpful with deeper wounds while Loki had limitations to his healing properties.

It had taken practice, but Loki offered some of Frigga’s old journals. It was a natural talent you had seemed to possess.

Loki looked up at you with tears, “Y/N?”

He was sure he had lost you and yet, you stood with your gloves off and ready to heal whoever needed it.

“Holy shit.” Sam mumbled as he stood up to look at you in utter shock. But you were confused at his reaction to you.

Noting the bottom half of a man with Loki blocking the first half from view, you inhaled.

You move to come closer but Thor stopped you, “It was Ambrose.”

The mention of your guardian shocked you. You were now truly confused at why Ambrose would be there, in the compound, especially in this moment. However, you felt the instinctual connection between you two dwindling. And then it had struck you— he was fading.

“He glamoured himself as you to protect you.” Thor offered a further explanation. You looked at him with an expression he couldn’t interpret entirely. He then moved aside revealing Ambrose’s barely breathing form. Loki kneeled next his form with an haunted look on his face. Once again, Thor spoke— this time in a quiet voice. “You must say your goodbyes, Y/N.”

You dashed over in a hurry looking to Loki who only shook his head. He offered only one word confirming why Ambrose could not be saved, “Bronze.”

Looking back down at your guardian, you placed your hand over his gash, “It is okay, father. Accept my life force.”

Life force. It was the one thing that could save any soul. Transferring your life into the body of another was no light feat. The giver would perish, and the recipient would live.

Loki looked at you with fear in his eyes. You were unharmed and yet here you were ready to die for the second time— but this time, it would be real.

Rarely had others of your kind offered theirs unless it was moments of pure desperation as it signed their death warrant, but this was Ambrose. And to you, his life had much more meaning than your own.

It was the ultimate sacrifice.

He was the leader of your realm, your guardian, your father, brother, friend, and closest companion. You now understood why he feared allowing you to make a life on Midgard instead of remaining on your plane.

“N-no... you are destined for much more. It is time for me to join the others in the Summerland.” He spoke quietly.

His skin began to desecrate, leaving you to shake your head. “Please, don’t leave me. I never should have left your side. I was wrong— I was selfish. Our people will have no one to turn to.”

“But they will. Anders has been prepped to lead one day. It is his time.” You cried at the sound of your brother stepping up to the plate, it was a role he never truly wanted. “Send him my wishes. Tell him, he has come of age.”

“Oh, Ambrose.” You barely choked out.

This was the man who had taken you and your brother in after fleeing from war on your realm. Anders held you in his arms at age seven, scared with his newborn sister in his hands when he appeared on the plane you would call home for hundreds of years. Your brother, still young, never knew of your origins and with his memory erased, he would never know. But Ambrose— as elusive as he was— was all knowing and had taken you both in.

He spoke even softer, “You protect this world as Anders protects our realm. Your mother would be very proud.”

“My mother?”

“I see her. She is quite beautiful...”

Closing his eyes, he smiled softly. “Aelsa, take me home.” Loki looked at Ambrose in surprise of the name he mentioned. He knew exactly who he had referred to. He looked at Thor, who had his eyebrows furrowed. Both drawing the connection of your origin.

For you, he name rang of familiarity but you were too consumed by the soft shimmer that surrounded Ambrose’s form. He was leaving and you could do nothing to stop him.

And within mere seconds all you held was the dust of his now death. Fairy dust, often claimed by folklore. The magical finality of all deceased Fae.

The world had seemed to go quiet around you. And all you could think of was all the loss you had faced, even before your arrival to the place you would call home above Midgard.

And your guardian, your only true parent in your life, vanished.

“Dove?”

You looked to Loki who seemed to be filled with utter concerned as he pulled you in noting the tears in your eyes. You clutched to him tightly, while a vicious sob erupted from your lips.

“I- I can’t. It’s my fault—”

His hand rested on the back of your head while you cried. Loki was thankful that you were unharmed. The thought of losing you was a reality he could not bare to imagine, but the sight of your heartbreak pained him so.

He could feel the deep sorrow and pain roll off of you. And in your mind, you were consumed with a plethora of thoughts. Ones of grief, of guilt, failure, anger, and confusion.

Loki only held you tighter as your hands gripped his shirt. He sent you emotions of love and comfort but your walls propelled them away.

“I did this.” You cried out. He held you tighter and kissed your head, “My little dove,” he cooed to you.

He had no way of knowing what to say. In truth, no one knew what to do. What can one say to someone who had watched their loved one die so instantly, so unexpectedly?

Thor ushered Natasha, Wanda, and Sam away instructing them to proceed with the rest of the mission of bringing the victims home.

Sam followed the two women out of the courtyard, informing Steve and Tony what had occurred. Thor would most likely fill them in when he returned.

Turning back to Loki, he nodded and walked away. He knew the last thing you would want were minds buzzing all around you, and so he parted.

Leaving you and Loki to the silence around you.

#loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x fairy!reader #loki fanfic #mcu loki #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #loki imagine #loki series #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki avengers

[mypoisonedvine]

I’m so in love with TWI!Lee, it’s a problem 😭😭😭 does reader ever find out what really happened to her mom? And if so, how does she react/what goes down?

okay so I’ve gotten this question a LOT and in my mind, no she never finds out.  but, if she hypothetically did, this is sort of how that would shake out...

Unidentified Cremains Found in Woods Outside Knockemstiff; Foul Play Suspected

You didn’t think much of the headline at first, because you didn’t read a lot about crimes-- you preferred to hear about it from your husband when he vented about his day at work.  For some reason, though, you found yourself picking the paper up again later that evening, staring at the article and contemplating it.

Ohio state troopers discovered the burnt remains of an unknown woman, estimated to be between the ages of 35 and 55, in an uninhabited wooded area outside the unincorporated township of Knockemstiff.  Although cause of death could not be determined due to the age of and damage to the body, foul play is not being ruled out considering the amateur nature of the burning.  

Limited information was available as to the identity of the deceased, and so far, the state troopers say they have not been able to find any match to known dental records or missing persons cases in the state of Ohio; they plan to look for information outside the state next if no one comes forward with usable information.  There are only two real pieces of information that investigators have been able to put together about the mystery woman.  First is that she had a filling on her left rear molar, which was likely installed sometime between 1955 and 1959.  Second, and more disturbing, is that she was three-and-a-half to four months pregnant at the time of death; the case is being investigated as a double homicide.

Anyone with information on who this woman was or what may have happened to her is encouraged to call the Ohio State Troopers Department at 808-555-8171

Setting the paper down, you furrowed your brow as you pondered that.  Consciously, the possibility that the body could be your mother’s didn’t cross your mind.  However, you were still suspicious enough that something compelled you to hide the paper from Lee that night when he got home.

It wasn't until you woke up the next morning to Lee gone early that you started to fear the worst. Suddenly, too many things made sense in all the wrong ways. The way your mother left so suddenly with all but no explanation, how it was all so convenient after he'd waited so long to divorce her. You remembered that a case was never even opened because of that stupid note, the one you hadn't thought to question before but managed to wrap everything up a little too well.

You found the old letter she left hidden away in a box in your closet. Now that you looked at it again, you finally started to question it. The handwriting was a bit off, almost shaky-- but maybe she was emotional? Why had she suddenly acknowledged being a bad mother after a lifetime of assuring you she was the best mother alive? Come to think of it, why had she left so much of her belongings behind?

Worst of all, you were sure the stationary matched a pad that Lee kept in his office. You'd seen it a thousand times on his desk and, up until now, never thought to connect it to the letter left on your dining room table.

You wondered if part of you had known all along. Swallowing dryly, you took something else out of the box in the closet, and stormed out into the night to find your husband.

//

Standing across from him in the woods, you almost couldn't see with only the moonlight illuminating his face. His eyes were cast into shadow, but you hoped he could see yours. You hoped he could see that you were serious.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked slowly.

You shivered as pulled out the revolver from behind your back, pointing it at him as his face dropped.

"... princess?"

"I know what you did, Lee."

"What I did...?"

"What you did to my mama."

He swallowed. "I... I don't know what you're--"

"Stop FUCKING lying," you yelped, "and get your hands up."

"Honey, you're not really gonna--"

You cocked the gun, and he quickly shut up and raised his arms. Clearly he still had his common sense.

"Let's not do anything drastic, alright?" he suggested gently. "Let's have a talk about this."

"How could you? I know she was cruel, but she was... she was a person! And now she's just... unidentified female cremains! How could you do that?"

"I didn't do it," he explained, rushing when you moved your finger to the trigger, "it was Deputy Wilson, okay? I asked him to do it! That was why he got promoted!"

"How..." you mumbled, "how did he do it?"

Lee looked to the ground.

"Look at me!" you demanded. "Tell me how my mother died!"

"He strangled her. With a rope."

You felt a little lightheaded, hardly believing what you were hearing. "I thought maybe... I thought maybe it would've been painless. Quick. Maybe she had some final moments of peace... but she didn't, did she? She was probably clawing, screaming, pleading for her life on the ground..."

Lee shook his head. "Don't think of her like that--"

"SHUT UP!" you screamed, starting to sob. "You're a murderer!"

"I'm not--"

"Lee, didn't you say you support the death penalty?" you snarled, wrapping your finger around the trigger again even though your hand started to shake.

"You know you can't," he whispered. "What about Bea? Could you kill her father?"

"I could kill the man who took her grandmother away from her, before she even had a chance to meet her."

"And Penny? She's so little, she wouldn't even remember me. She'd never know me. She'd never know who I was."

You sobbed, trying not to let it affect you, but truthfully it was heartbreaking to imagine. "Maybe it's better that she loses the man she gets to think you were, than be raised by the man you really are."

Lee started to cry, too, something you'd never seen him do before. "And the little one, growin' in ya? Will he miss me?"

You were crying so hard you couldn't even hold the gun straight, or see past your tears to aim it right.

"Let me meet my son," he pleaded. "Please, baby, you can hate me forever just... put the gun down. I need to meet my son."

You didn't really mean to lower it, but you were so terrified and overwhelmed-- with what he'd done, with what you were about to do-- and you realized he was stepping towards you just as you fell and crumpled right into his arms.

"Shh, s'okay," he whispered as he held you, prying the gun from your limp hand and tossing it aside onto the ground.

"I'm so sorry, god, I'm so sorry," you sobbed against his chest.

"Me too," he replied. "We can't take back what we've done. But we can still be good people. We can still raise those kids right. They're gonna be so much better than us."

"Let's hope so," you whispered as you pulled him closer.

#twi!lee

[whitherliliesbloom]

towards a tomorrow

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #28 - bow ]

[ illya & kirishimi ] ★ [ 2,062 words ]  ★ [ period drama au ]

for matchi’s period drama au. briefly mentions illyanaud, laurelis and kaye. 

bow-  to bend your head or body forward, especially as a way of showing someone respect or expressing thanks 

kirishimi didn’t care for frilly dresses or etiquette unless it was to make a statement - so she gets lessons from the most ladylike friend she knows

“Gods, shite! How do people breath in this stupid thing?!” 

Amongst the light breeze of the midafternoon wind, the melodic chirping of the songbirds and the sound of water splashing freely from the white marble fountain, Kirishimi’s less than ladylike words pierce through the air as she puffs her chest in with a low grumble and is followed by the soft and gentle bell-like chimes of a younger girl’s giggles a few feet next to her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think the corset can be loosened any further, I made it as loose as I could for you already.”

“Can I just take it off then?” Kirishimi asks, hopeful even as the shorter lalafellin girl shakes her head calmly with am apologetic frown, her vibrant violent eyes swirling with sympathy.

“I wish you could but... Laurelis designed the dress with your corset in mind.. It just wouldn’t fit if you didn’t-”

“Shite.”

Yet another swear tumbles carelessly out of Kirishimi’s lips, and Illya lets out a soft, barely audible sigh before flashing her taller friend yet another gentle smile.

“How about a short break then? I think you’ll feel a little better if you take a breather.”

“Yes please!”

Without even a seconds’ hesitation, Kirishimi grabs the frame of the hoop skirt beneath her bright orange dress with her hands and marches to the gazebo before slumping down onto the white garden chair and kicking her matching pair of high heels off. She leans down to massage the soles of her feet with a grimace, feeling light indents where the rim of the heels had dug into her feet and wondering if there was going to be blisters forming under her hosiery by the end of the day.

In contrast to the almost unruly way she’d retreated under the shade of the white and purple gazebo, Illya in comparison was the very picture of elegance. With only the tips of her thumb and index finger, the young lady lifts the hem of her frilly lavender dress before climbing the steps up to the gazebo. Despite wearing lacey embroidered heels that seemed like they were even more of a pain to wear than her own, Illya’s balance was perfect, each footstep graceful and deliberate so much that Kirishimi could barely even hear the little tap of her heels against the floor. 

Even the way she sat upon the chair, taking her time to tuck her dress beneath her thighs before sitting herself down and folding her hands neatly upon her lap - it wouldn’t have made Kirishimi felt self-conscious any other time before today. But it was exactly because she was here now, for the exact same reason she’d even agreed to commission an over the top ball gown from Laurelis that she swear to never wear outside of it’s intended use, that she quickly decided to correct her posture. 

The taller woman feels out of place - as she typically does, but especially next to her considerably more demure, ladylike friend. Surrounded by the jewel toned walls of the Skawi mansion, the flawless marble tile paths that circled the garden and practically shined in the sunlight and the bed of delicate spring flowers that filled the air with a light floral fragrance, it would be hard for her not to feel even a tiny bit like a fish out of water.

“Thanks again, Illya. For agreeing to teach me.” Kirishimi opts to speak, breaking the long hanging silence as if in sheepish apology. She knows she isn’t the best student, and so the least she could do was be cooperative and nice to the girl who is graciously lending her her time and efforts. 

“You’re very welcome, Kiri.” With a radiant smile, Illya nods her head, her innocent expression bright and at home with her subtle movements of grace. The birds that sat upon the mansard roofs sing in tandem with the sweetness of Illya’s voice. “I’m honored that you would come to me for lessons about etiquette. Even if it is to...um... break the social construct.”

Mismatched eyes widen in a panic, and the older woman leans forward over the table and raises her voice a tad.

“Hey, I hope you don’t misunderstand me! There’s nothin’ wrong with being prim and proper! I’m not tryin’ to do anythin’ to disrespect you! I just-”

“I know.” Illya speaks, her brilliantly pure white hair fluttering gently in the breeze like a wavy silken veil over her head. “You’re just trying to be you. You have the courage and strength to stand up to people who would try to tell you do otherwise. I like that about you.” With yet another euphonious, soft giggle, Illya raises a hand up to press against her chest. “Besides, you wouldn’t have come to me for a favor if you truly did have malicious intent, would you? The fact that you called Laurelis and I for help means that you trust us.” 

A soft blush rises up to Kiri’s face where speckles of white snow glowed lightly from the heat from her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her gloved hand moves up to rub the side of her neck sheepishly, and she cannot help the toothy grin that adorns her face.

“I guess you’re right.” the woman murmurs. “I also... admire you a lot, you know? You’re so sweet, and nice... a bit too nice, honestly. You don’t even get angry when idiots spout lies about you...”

Kirishimi would be lying if she said she didn’t feel an immense amount of admiration for Illya’s ability to stay as calm and collected as she does - even above the seemingly effortless way she’d conduct herself like the society’s perfect definition of a ‘lady’. 

But there wasn’t envy... it wouldn’t be warranted, especially since Kirishimi knew that behind the perfectly immaculate way Illya would hold herself as the young mistress and future heiress of her family name, came a set of troubles and insecurities that she too was struggling with. 

It’s evident by the flicker of melancholy in Illya’s eyes, like a field of delphiniums and hydrangeas that were drooping in the midst of a drizzle of rain and grey storm clouds, even with a forced, stepford smile gracing her delicate and fair features. They were lovely, beautiful even in their imperfect sadness.. but Kiri could not bring herself to feel anything but sorry at the sight of them.

“And I wish I were even half as strong as you. You’re able to stand up for what you want, for who you are... If I had a fraction of the courage that you possessed then perhaps... I could have...” The girl looks down, the silver band that she’d refused to wear hidden deep in the depths of her dress pocket weighing far more heavily than it ever did before. “I could have stopped my uncle from calling for the engagement...”

The Skawi family had well deserved respect from the capital, and with it came a reputation and image they had to uphold. And with their fame, came the inevitable greed from the current head of the family - the man Illya could barely even bring herself to think of as family, the younger brother of the long deceased patriarch, Lachlan Skawi. 

Selling himself and the name of the Skawis wouldn’t be enough for the man - and so he’d sold the dignity of his niece as well by calling for an arranged marriage.. something that Kirishimi knew would not be solved with a few simple social statements and protests. It involved the name of the Skawi family, and worse still, it involved the capital. 

Internally, Kirishimi wonders what Young Master Alphinaud intends to do. Word about mistress Skawi’s engagement to one of the members of the royal bloodlines has spread far and wide by now, and he would undoubtedly be working tirelessly for a way to stop the marriage. 

But if the combined efforts of Laurelis’ family, the Leveilleur household, Hien’s influence as a well respected foreign emissary wasn’t enough to convince Illya’s uncle to call off the engagement, what else could they hope to do?

“You’re stronger than you think you are, Illya.” Kiri reassures, her tone gentler than is usual for her, as is the light, reassuring smile upon her face. “You took the first steps to realize your own dreams, didn’t ya?” 

Kiri gestures to the carnation earring she wore that dangled lightly with gleaming white pearls, and Illya raises a hand up to brush against her ear lightly. The earring was a gift from Master Alphinaud, the man she owes much to... Her mentor, her dearest friend and...

A dust of red rises up to Illya’s cheeks and spreads to the tips of her pointed ears as she nods.

“It’s... It’s thanks to everyone... and especially Master Alphinaud that.. that I finally started to learn medicine. If it weren’t for everyone’s support, I wouldn’t have-...”

Illya holds her tongue, pressing her lips into her fine line as Kiri allows the silence to fester, until she grins at the look of renewed determination upon the young maiden’s face.

No, Kirishimi is right. She certainly may owe much to her friends and loved ones, and she wouldn’t have taken that first steps towards realizing her dream to become a doctor had she not met Alphinaud... but it took great strides of her own too, a strength and new found courage to stand up to the ones who doubted her - one that she felt determined in full to carry on for as long as she needed until her dreams are fulfilled and she can be free from her own social constructs that are weighing her down.

“Once all this is over.. could you teach me how to fence, Kiri?” Illya asks, eliciting a surprised hum from her taller friend. 

“You wanna learn how to fence?” The woman asks... not in dissuation, of course... but in mild disbelief that a girl as sweet and gentle as Illya would be interested in the sport. She’d say yes, of course, regardless of Illya’s reasons. She’d teach Illya whatever she wanted to learn especially since the girl had been kind enough to be teaching her etiquette. But she still cannot help but to be a bit curious.

“I admit I’m not the strongest or physically well built... I’ll probably be a really bad student but-”

With a wave of her hand, Kiri dismisses Illya’s words with a hearty, loud laugh that echoes throughout the garden, warm and bright in the midafternoon sun.

“You’ll be great, I guarantee it. You’re quick on your feet and I think you’re a lot more fit than you give yourself credit for.” If Illya’s ability to function without fault all way in tight corsets and high heels are anything to go by, at least. 

With a bright smile of gratitude, Illya thanks her friend warmly with a bow of her head before standing herself up from the chair, circling around the table and gesturing to the haphazardly abandoned orange heels that laid on their sides next to Kirishimi.

“Let’s continue, Kiri. We still have much to practice for the day!” Illya shrugs her shoulders when Kiri groans, slipping her feet back into her heels before reluctantly standing herself back up. “You remember what I said about the proper way to curtsy is, right?”

To demonstrate, Illya holds the sides of her dress, barely pulling the hem up from the ground and crossing her legs before dipping herself down gracefully like a ballerina... and Kiri could only let out a lazy grumble in protest.

“Can’t we rest for a little while longer? I hate this curtsying shite.”

“The faster we get this part of the lesson done, the faster we can move on to table manners.” Illya’s innocent smile is bright and radiant, belying the little hint of mischief laced under the tone of her knowing voice. “I’ve already asked for the pastries and sweet tea to be prepared, you know? Kaye should be arriving with them any second now.”

“Curtsy? Got it. Left foot behind right???” Mismatched blue and red eyes fly open, and the woman does a full curtsy that elicits yet another light and airy giggle from Illya. 

“It’s the right foot behind your left. Not too quickly, now. Let’s try that again.” 

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #illya skawi #kirishimi #period drama au #fanfic #mine #YET ANOTHER AU I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR GOD #I quite like this even if I feel like it's missing a lot of context that i had to explain with just a few #expository sentences #but that's just the nature of writing for aus you've never established before hah