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kim-miri · 3 years

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HALF(have a little fun) pt. v

→ one | two | three | four

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part five / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 3,127

☾v.

Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |

Hair color: White

Eye Color: Purple

Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)

Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana

☾v. part v: the mafia(2/2)

Sayomi made her way to the elevators once again, dispatching the control room through her walkie talkie that she needed to get to her shift.

It was currently a quarter to 1, the last minutes before her shift would start. With a hand resting on her katana, Sayomi now exited the elevator having arrived at the 48th floor.

As she approached the VIP’s room, the two bodyguards on duty sighed in relief.

“Thank god, it’s finally rotation time”, the woman exhaled lazily.

Sayomi tried her luck at a friendly interaction, casually asking the pair a question. “I’m guessing there wasn’t any action?”

The man laughed a genuine, but tired laugh. “Absolutely nothing. We haven’t moved an inch since the start of our shift.”

Sayomi laughed at the pair’s lack of enthusiasm, her violet eyes crinkling at the edges. Her expression of joy seemed infectious, as the older members in front of her laughed along with her in their despair.

She was starting to feel like a true member of the team already.

This is nice, I didn’t expect the others to be as unmotivated as me.

Closing in on the time designated for the shift change, Sayomi’s partner arrived as well. Seeing no purpose in waiting around when everyone was present, the pairs switched early, starting Sayomi on her very first stretch as a bodyguard.

☾v.

The first 30 minutes into her shift, Sayomi had learned that her partner was a rather quiet person by nature.

Upon starting their shift, the two had exchanged a brief greeting, nodding to acknowledge the other.

It was only after an hour of standing and staring at the wall that Sayomi decided she couldn’t stand the silence while they waited out their shift.

She initiated a conversation with the older man, coming out bold as to establish her character.

“So, how did such an average man like you get stuck working for the mafia?”

The man was unmoving, replying to her question in a soft voice. “My family’s debt… Why did a young girl like you get caught up with the mafia?”

She wasn’t expecting such an honest response from the man. It threw her off, making her unprepared to answer the question shot her way.

“Um… I guess you could say family circumstances?” She hadn’t lied, given that it was her family’s actions that left her at Meteor City.

The man nodded in understanding at her vague answer.

Another wave of awkward silence fell over the two, Sayomi’s initial attempt at socializing having failed miserably.

She decided not to reattempt a conversation with the man, sensing that he didn’t care for idle chatter.

Family circumstances, huh. That’s the best thing I could think of.

Sayomi had fallen deep in thought, her brows furrowing as she reflected back on her life.

I wonder if… father ever came looking for me? Or Illumi… did Illumi want me gone too? Ah, I shouldn’t be so dramatic about this. Either way I won’t return home, because that would mean mother winning.

She exhaled audibly, tired from the splurge of thoughts that had taken over her mind once again.

The man glanced over at the teen stationed next to him. She was obviously just as bored as he was to be stuck with this job.

Moving his eyes back forward to the wall in front of him, he attempted to kickstart a conversation once again. “You seem a bit too young to be on your own, don’t you miss your family?”

Sayomi blinked at the man in surprise, both at the question and the fact that he had initiated a conversation.

She contemplated whether she should tell the truth or cover it up with a lie. Deciding that a lie would take more effort, she settled for the truth. “I’ve been in the assassin business for 6 years now, so I wouldn’t say too young… I do miss my little brother though. Do you miss your family?”

As the man appeared to be deep in thought, Sayomi mulled over her words. My little brother… Killua, are they treating you alright?

“My apologies for assuming. And, yes, I do indeed miss my family. But, why haven’t you escaped yet, then? With no leverage against you, you could easily run away at any time.” The man spoke while looking at her this time.

She thought about his question. “I guess… well, I don’t really have anywhere else to go. It’s my first time in Yorknew City, and I wouldn’t want to go back home to the people that left me in the first place.”

He let out a hmm at her response, obviously putting the pieces of her situation together. “If I told you of a way you could live here in Yorknew without being trapped under the mafia… would you oblige?”

His eyes were soft and earnest. He knew what it was like to remain helpless at the hands of the Mafia, and saw no reason she should as well, especially at such a young age.

Sayomi’s expression formed one of shock and surprise, obviously taken aback by the man’s sincerity to help.

“I suppose I would… but if you know of a way out, why haven’t you left yet?” The two were now holding eye contact as if to read the other’s intentions.

“I’m afraid I’ve already received too much from the Mafia. I owe my life as well as my family’s safety to them.” He responded somberly.

Sayomi nodded silently, understanding the man’s situation. She decided to at least take a listen to the plan he had to offer. “So, you know of a way I can live in Yorknew without the Mafia breathing over my shoulder?”

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and the man could sense it as something between the recklessness of a teenager and the confidence of a powerful assassin. She has no fears. I wonder how much she’s experienced to be this strong at such a young age.

“Ah, yes. Sticking with the Mafia will never do you any good. There’s a way of living here in Yorknew City if you’re especially confident in your fighting abilities. It’s called Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi raised her eyebrows at the man’s words, curious. Heaven’s Arena? Sounds like some shoddy place where people bet on fights.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention. So, what does one do at Heaven’s Arena?” Sayomi asked.

The man cracked a ghost of a smile at her interest. “You fight. From what I’ve heard, it’s set up in multiple floors, and each time you win they let you advance to higher floors. I’m pretty sure the pay goes up with each floor as well.”

Sayomi was impressed. A place where they pay you to fight? Count me in.

“I wonder what the catch is though… if it’s as easy as you say, wouldn’t everyone be taking their chances at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man hummed in agreement with her words. “You’re right. The most I’ve heard is that once you reach a certain point, the matches become a fight to the death, and through any means possible. I’m guessing that’s where most people falter- it’s either life or death matches that’ll provide you with a stable income, or small fights once in a while that pay very little. Only the strongest find what they’re looking for at Heaven’s Arena.”

Gambling with your life in order to pay the bills…

“And you think I could make it at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man looked down at Sayomi with a fatherly gaze. “I don’t think you’re the type of person to need someone else’s approval. But to answer your question, yes, I think with the right amount of training you could find a new life with Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi smiled at his judgement of her character. “Well, then that does it. I just need to find my way out of the Mafia’s grasp, and then I can get to training.”

☾v.

Sayomi’s shift was over before she knew it. Just as the pair before them had said, their VIP client had no one after him.

Her partner had told her all he knew about Heaven’s Arena and the Mafia from his many years working in Yorknew City.

She had learned that there were members of the Mafia hidden within the assassin recruits, keeping anyone from sneaking away. Her escape would have to be well planned out to avoid getting caught along with any consequences.

Tagging out with the next pair of bodyguards, Sayomi head back to her room once again.

2 days later

VIP Adachi Yuto’s stay came to an end, with it marking the end of Sayomi’s first job. The team was dissolved as a result, and Sayomi was dispatched by her section leader to meet with him down at the lobby.

The section leader turned out to be the man who had first brought her to Yorknew City, a familiar face that relaxed Sayomi’s nerves a great amount.

Upon meeting, he was immediately down to business, letting Sayomi know of her next assignment.

It was an assassin’s job.

She had originally planned to find a way out of the Mafia’s scope soon, but with the mention of her finally getting some action, the plan was postponed.

Her target was a man in his 30s. No other information was given to her besides a photo and his location.

Not much to her surprise, an ankle monitor was situated around her right leg, keeping her from straying from the job.

Damn you, bloodlust. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to ditch the cold blood and murder mother and father drilled into my head.

Sayomi was falling victim to her old habits. She knew it was wrong to stick around any longer, but the consequences of the offer to satisfy her thirst for blood didn’t sink in until the cool metal of her ankle monitor pressed into her skin.

The man seemed to read Sayomi’s thoughts as she realized her mistake. “The ankle monitor is programmed to shock the user upon our command. It’s enough power to deal sufficient damage to even the largest of animals, so I insist you remain focused on the missions we give you. We never enjoy having to resort to using it, but keep in mind that we will not hesitate to, given a reason.”

She looked down at her ankle in defeat. It seemed Heaven’s Arena would have to wait.

☾v.

Later that night

Sayomi paced anxiously about in her hotel room. It was a mix of long-overdue bloodlust and hatred towards herself as a result of her assassin’s instinct to kill.

Deep inside her head, a war of conflicting feelings raged on.

Calm down, Sayomi. Every time you do this it’s only proving that mother succeeded in sculpting you into her little assassin.

She had completely thrown away a perfect chance to escape just because she couldn’t control her impulses to kill in cold blood.

But is it that wrong to want to kill? Being an assassin doesn’t mean I’ll be exactly like mother. I can control my own future now, I am my own person.

Setting her katana down against the wall, she opted for her needles instead. It had been a while since she’d used the smaller weapons because they reminded her of the past.

Now putting the past behind her, Sayomi walked with a new air of confidence. It was her greatest skill and job to kill, she’d decided. And this was a decision she had come to on her own, a new mindset for a new beginning.

A static-ridden dispatch over her walkie talkie marked the beginning of her assignment, and Sayomi headed down to the lobby.

Since she was still underage, a driver was provided to her, stationed in front of the hotel with her designated license plate.

The brisk night air greeted Sayomi as she exited the hotel. It was currently a few minutes past 12, the streets being mostly empty except for the young city goers enjoying the nightlife in Yorknew City.

Exhaling out an envious sigh at the stunning city lights surrounding her, Sayomi watched her breath disappear into the night as she walked briskly to the car.

The drive to her target’s location was silent. Sayomi sat alone in the back seat, watching with empty eyes as friends, lovers, and complete strangers came together in harmony within the lively city.

She started to wonder what it would be like to live a normal life like them. What would she be doing right now? Staying up and texting friends? Going to bed before midnight?

As the teen sat in the back of a luxurious car going towards her next target to assassinate, she couldn’t help but wish she had a normal life, with friends who cared about her feelings or guy problems instead of waiting for orders on which guy she would kill next.

These are useless thoughts. There’s no turning back now.

The car came to a stop at an intimidatingly tall company building, around the same height as the hotel.

Stretching her limbs as she exited the car, the driver notified Sayomi he would wait for her return in the same spot.

Thanking the driver for his services, she took quick steps towards the entrance of the building. With her persistently developed speed and underground techniques, sneaking in and out of the building would be no problem.

Taking notice of the lack of security, she rolled her eyes as she let out a breath in annoyance. This is amateur work.

Activating her zetsu, Sayomi’s menacing purple aura dissipated into thin air as she dashed past the sorry line of security, making her way to a deserted hallway.

There was a lone guard doing rounds with a bright flashlight in hand, failing to notice the slight breeze that Sayomi had left in her path.

Positioning a needle between her fingers, Sayomi flicked her wrist out at lightning speed, sending the needle flying towards the guard.

It hit home in the guard’s neck, knocking him out instantly. Taking nimble steps towards the fallen guard, Sayomi made quick work of grabbing his access badge before heading to the elevators.

Seeing as no one else was around, she tabbed an elevator, rocking back and her toes as she waited.

Just as she had expected, the elevator required an access badge, which she tapped against the scanner while pressing on the button for the 38th floor.

In a bored attempt to keep herself preoccupied on the way up, Sayomi spread her band of needles out in her hands. Closing her eyes, she ran a pale hand over the band.

Her hand came down on a single needle, the needle she would use to finish off her target. Putting the band back into her pocket, she held the single needle between her knuckles, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The elevators chime signified Sayomi’s arrival at the 38th floor. The floor was empty, being past working hours and in between shifts for the security guards.

A single desk lamp shone in her target's office, and Sayomi strolled casually to the partially open door.

She could see from where she approached that her target was busy at work, having stayed overtime.

Knocking twice on the inside of the open door, Sayomi just barely caught the attention of the man before moving her wrist in a single, fluid motion.

The man had no chance to react, slumping face down onto his desk with a muffled thump.

She had hit the jugular clean and precise, leaving no trail behind of her job besides the now motionless man.

Satisfied with her work, Sayomi returned to the elevators with a skip in her step. A few months without my needles and I’ve still got it!

Greeting her driver with a smile this time around, she didn’t blame him for being utterly confused.

The job had taken her just under 5 minutes, the majority of the time belonging to the elevator rides up and down from the 38th floor.

Dispatching her section leader of the completed job, Sayomi returned back to the hotel, looking as if she had gone out for an evening stroll.

Her section leader greeted her in the lobby, letting her know she had the remainder of the night off. She frowned slightly at the news, her adrenaline still rushing from the short job.

An easy target like today always left her wanting more, unsatisfied with the lack of fighting that came with it.

I’m getting all caught up in this again.

Shaking away her thoughts of possibly finding more action, Sayomi returned to her room with slumped shoulders. She forced herself to set her needles back down on her nightstand, finding it hard to keep herself from fiddling with them.

It was late. And though the 51st floor around her seemed to be deep in sleep, Sayomi was restless.

She decided to wash up and take a quick shower to relax her nerves, changing out of the uniform and into one of the other outfits they had provided her with.

Wrapping her silvery-white hair in a towel, she opted to sit on the floor, gazing out of the floor length window in front of her.

Yorknew City was quieting down, the street vendors having cleaned up for the night, stores being long closed, and clubs starting to die down. The last of the neon signs flickered in the darkness, looking like tiny specks of color from where Sayomi sat, high above most of the buildings bordering the one she was in.

The 16 year old girl sat cross-legged in a trance, no longer focused on the city in front of her, but something within her mind.

What am I gonna do now… I ruined my chances of escaping anytime soon. All because I couldn’t control myself, my old habits. Does this mean mother was successful with her plans?

No. I don’t have to give in to defeat. I’ll find a way out, just like how I got out of Meteor City. Maybe if I gain their trust they’ll take this ankle monitor off.

I just have to become one of their obedient assassins, quiet and reliable.

Sayomi fell asleep slouched on the rough carpeted floor that night, lost in her own thoughts and emotions.

But despite the uncomfortable position, her face proved differently. She was only ever at peace when she was fast asleep, because that’s when she could see her loved ones within dreams.

Illumi, Killua… Are you two taking good care of each other? Are you doing better than I am?

Do you guys even miss me?

I miss you two so much I feel like I could die.

☾v.

to be continued.

a/n: taglist open!

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anistarrose · 4 years

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Fear The Reaper A Lot, Actually - Chapter 2

AO3

Chapter Summary: Angus tries to cope with the pressure. Taako does some sick stunts. Barry is exposed as a cryptid of the necromancy community.

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz

“Where are you all going?” Lucretia asked, just as Taako opened the door to the glass sphere the next morning.

“Oh, me? I’m off to give lil’ Ango McDango here some magic lessons!” he fibbed. “Figured Wave Echo Cave would be a nice low-level experience for him to learn the ropes — unless there’s any other murder gloves still down there that we should know about?”

“No — at least not to my knowledge, but…” Lucretia narrowed her eyes. “Why are Magnus and Merle going with you?”

“They also need magic lessons.”

Lucretia frowned. “Merle’s already an accomplished cleric…”

“Yeah, ostensibly,” Taako replied. “But have you ever actually seen him heal?”

“Hey!” Merle shouted from inside the sphere. “I banished a whole bunch of ghosts yesterday, and that’s a cleric thing, isn’t it?”

He frowned. “Is it a cleric thing? I could’ve sworn Pan helped me…”

“It’s absolutely a cleric thing, sir,” Angus assured him, and Merle sighed with relief.

Lucretia shook her head. “Alright, point taken. Just be sure to keep an eye out for the Red Robes — I don’t want anything happening to you all, especially not now when we’re getting so close to collecting all the Relics…”

“It’s okay, Director, you can admit that you’ve grown fond of our dumb shenanigans!” Magnus chimed in from his seat next to Merle.

As Taako climbed into the sphere and Avi aims the cannon, Lucretia smiled sadly. “Yes, that too…”

***

“Was this cave so… for lack of a better phrase, squelchy when you came here last, sirs?” Angus asked as Magnus led the way through the tunnel, axe gleaming from a Light spell just like old times.

“Oh, it was plenty squelchy,” Magnus replied with a grimace. “Squelched all the way to the elevator.”

“It was really more of a splort than a squelch last time,” Merle said. “Still not pleasant, though.”

“I know how to lighten up this squelchy mood!” Taako spoke up. He was holding the Umbra Staff over his head, deflecting the drops of water and occasional fist sized blops of slime that fell from the stalactite-dotted ceiling. “Agnes, prestidigitate up some sparks. I wanna see what arcane skills of your own you’ve got before I start teaching you that Taako-brand magic.”

Angus blinked. “But I thought the magic lessons were… a clever ruse. A cover story.”

“Yeah, but the ruse will get a whole lot cleverer if you actually have some new spells to show for it, you know? Unless you really don’t wanna to learn for some reason —”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean —” Angus took a breath. “I would very much like to learn magic from you, sir. Even if it is just to help you lie to your boss.”

“Are you really gonna teach Merle healing, too?” Magnus asked, shrugging off the gentle elbowing he received from Merle.

“Do I look like I know how to heal? I can brew up a nice soothing tea to help a sore throat and that’s about it! Merle’s Healing Words are between him and the big satyr in the sky.” Taako turned to Angus. “Don’t be shy! Show me what you can do, and even if you mess up, I’ll make sure these goobers only bully you really mildly.”

Angus took a deep breath and closed his eyes, imagining sparks flying from his fingers. Grandpa always said that you’d make a good wizard one day. Time to prove him right, and to prove to Taako that I’ll be worth teaching even after he’s done lying to the Director…

“Whoa!” he heard Magnus gasp, and he opened his eyes. Tiny yellow stars burst in and out of existence in small clouds around his hands, fading as his concentration was broken.

“Hey, that’s pretty good for a first attempt! Wanna be our new cleric?” Taako asked him, earning a grumpy look from Merle. “I’m just kidding. But seriously, have you ever done this before?”

“Not at all, sir. Was it really that good for a first try?”

“Kid, you’re a natural!” Taako reached over and patted Angus’s cap. “Forget the cleric jokes — when I get my soul reaped, I know who the Bureau’s gonna hire as the replacement wizard!”

The proud smile vanished from Angus’s face as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by wide eyes and a quivering lip.

“What’s wrong, Ango?” Magnus asked. “Taako’s just joking — you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I definitely don’t plan on dying and leaving you in my place,” Taako added. “Taako is irreplaceable!”

“I know you’re joking, sir,” Angus told him. “But what I can’t understand is how you can joke about something like that…”

Taako kneeled down next to Angus, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why, it’s ‘cause I’ve got the world’s greatest detective on my side, of course! I know we’ll find those liches and survive with our souls unreaped, because there’s no one better for the job than you are! So don’t look so glum — the four of us have got nothing to worry about.”

The sentiment was sincere, Angus could tell, which was a rare thing coming from Taako — but it had the opposite of the intended effect, and Angus’s stomach churned.

“You’re p-putting an awful lot of faith into me, s-sir —” he stammered, but he was interrupted as Magnus clapped hands over both Angus and Taako’s mouths.

“Shh!” he hushed them. “Did you hear that?”

“Sounded squelchy, just like everything else in the whole damn cave,” Merle whispered back. “Not at all like undead bones rattling.”

“But maybe squelchy like flesh being reanimated!” Magnus exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Ugh, Taako, did you just lick my hand?”

“I stuck out my tongue on reflex, ‘cause what you just said was gross as hell!” Taako replied, as Magnus wiped off the palm of his hand on a patch of moss growing up the wall of the cave. “Please don’t use any onomatopeia in a sentence with the world ‘flesh’ ever again!”

Angus cupped a a hand around his ear. “Sirs, I’m definitely hearing some non-squelchy voices from down the corridor. Is that also normal for this cave?”

“Must be someone in the main chamber,” Merle said. “Maybe it’s the ghosts of my dead cousins, or —”

He froze. “Hey, Maggie? I’d step away from that moss before —”

Magnus jumped back just in time to doge a gelatinous green arm that burst out of the moss-covered wall, swiping furiously at him. A shoulder and then an entire torso oozed out after it, followed by a head sporting a familiar pointed hat and elfin ears.

“Watch where you wipe my spit next time!” Taako shouted, pointing the Umbra Staff at his slimy doppelganger.

“Then don’t slobber on my hand next time!” Magnus yelled back, drawing Railsplitter.

“Just kill it already to make sure there is a next time for us!” Merle exclaimed. “Kill it with fire!”

Taako fired off a barrage of Scorching Rays, but the moss monster’s arm elongated into a gelatinous Umbra Staff of its own. A putrid-smelling bubble of acid grew from the end of it, and when Taako’s bolts of fire struck it with a hiss, it burst to release a cloud of acrid purple fumes that quickly filled the hallway.

Coughing and cowering behind Magnus, Merle extended his soulwood arm towards the slime construct as he cast Detect Magic. “That’s no moss! It’s got necromantic energy coming out of all its sporophytes!”

“Spor-o-phytes, is that a horny thing? That sounds like a horny thing,” Magnus grunted, fanning the air in front of him. “Not in front of the kid, Merle!”

“Forget about what you should or shouldn’t say in front of me!” Angus yelled, voice muffled as he held his cap over his nose and mouth. “Let’s just get out of here!”

“Got it!” Magnus stashed Railsplitter away, and scooped up Angus in one arm and Merle in the other as he sprinted down the hallway.

Taako followed in hot pursuit, summoning a wind to blast the fumes back in the opposite direction. His doppelganger faltered for a moment in the force of the gust, as drops of slime blew off its body and splattered across the walls, but as the wind subsided, it slowly oozed back together and began to follow the boys, gliding across the floor on a thin layer of liquid.

Magnus burst into the cave’s main chamber and jumped onto the elevator, setting Merle and Angus down as he began to crank the pulley. Merle extended a hand to Taako, who scampered aboard at the last minute before it began to descend.

“Phew,” he muttered, wiping a few drops of slime off his brow. “That was a close one!”

“Uh, sirs? I’m not sure we’re out of the woods yet.” Angus pointed towards the pool at the center of the cave, on top of which a massive pile of soft green moss was growing. Standing around it were three hooded figures, watching the adventurers intently. “We’ve got company.”

“You do indeed!” the tallest of the figures called out. “I thought I heard several someones bickering in the halls!”

“Unlike Chad, who insisted it was just the normal ambient sounds of the cave!” the second-tallest figure added.

The final and shortest figure, presumably Chad, crossed his arms and neglected to respond.

“You guys are necromancers, right?” Magnus asked as the elevator reached the bottom floor. “You ever meet a lich named Barry Bluejeans?”

“A lich?” Chad skeptically tilted his head, which was barely even perceptible beneath the folds of his robe. “The only Barry Bluejeans I know wasn’t a lich — he cheated me out of a whole stack of eldritch tomes in a dice game, and then told me after he’d won that he didn’t even know how to do necromancy! I did an Insight check and everything, and he wasn’t lying!”

“Your Insight bonus stinks, Chad!” the medium-height figure snapped. “The only time I ran into Barry Bluejeans, I got blackout drunk with him at a dark magic convention and when I woke up, he was gone and the Grim Reaper was there arresting the rest of us! Obviously, I got away despite my hangover, but Barry sure wasn’t any help!”

“Okay, that one actually checks out for Barry,” said Taako. “Agnes, jot that down.”

“I, too, have unfortunately crossed paths with this Barry Bluejeans,” the tallest necromancer spoke up. “I had just called forth my army of man-eating cactus homunculi to raze a nearby village, but then Barry foolishly threw himself in their path! The ridiculous amount of denim he was wearing didn’t save him, but he bought the townsfolk enough time to escape before he died, and now I’m banned from every desert in Faerun!”

“Dying unceremoniously also sounds like Barry,” said Merle. “Jot that down too.”

Angus clicked his pen. “This is all very strange, isn’t it? We have confirmation that Barry has died multiple times and returned to life at least once, but between the killed by cacti story and the kidnapped by gerblins story, he doesn’t seem nearly as cunning or powerful as you said Kravitz made him out to be. Why would —”

At the mention of Kravitz’s name, the necromancers all hissed in disgust.

“You four are with the Raven Queen?” Chad gasped. “I thought you just wanted to join our cool fun slime necromancy club!”

Angus held his hands in the air. “Wait, that’s not what I meant! We’re not hunting you, we’re —”

“Feign interest in our dark ways no longer, then!” the tallest figure bellowed, ignoring him. “Slime clone, attack!”

Taako’s doppelganger executed a perfect cannonball dive from above, and Magnus scooped Angus up and out of the way just in the nick of time. The slime monster splattered into a flat puddle on the ground, but quickly began to reform, lunging towards the real Taako and wielding a fake Umbra Staff.

“Actually, Angus, I’m making an executive decision!” Taako declared as he dodged a splash of acid. “These guys suck ass so we are hunting them now, whether Kravitz wants us to or not!”

“The guys by the pond are the ones controlling that thing! Let’s take ‘em out!” Magnus set down Angus next to Taako, then drew Railsplitter with one hand and picked up Merle with the other. “Merle, I need your radiant damage!”

“I guess I just don’t get a choice in the matter, huh?” Merle wailed, frantically flipping through his Extreme Teen Bible as Magnus rushed in.

“Sirs, wait!” Angus yelled. “Look out for —”

Magnus began to skid to a halt — but not before Chad extended an arm, and a tendril of moss shot out of the pool, yanking Magnus’s legs out from under him. Merle’s Guiding Bolt went wide, and he tumbled off Magnus’s shoulder, landing directly on his ass.

“…the moss,” Angus sighed, as the tallest figure directed another tendril of moss to ensnare Merle before he could get to his feet.

The slime monster took a jab at Taako and he instinctively raised his Umbra Staff to block it, only for the umbrella to be engulfed and ripped out of Taako’s hand.

“Oh, fuck off! No one messes with my umbrella —”

From within the gelatinous shape that was looking less and less like Taako by the second, the Umbra Staff opened all on its own and glowed red as it fired off a Thunderwave, blasting the slime monster apart from the inside out and plastering green ooze onto nearly every wall of the cave within a thirty-foot radius.

“What the hell?” Taako caught the umbrella as it sailed back into his hand. “Uh, I mean, that was all me! I meant to do that!”

As its red glow faded, the Umbra Staff closed and gently bonked him on the head as if to sarcastically say Yeah, right.

“Now that’s just unsportly!” the tallest necromancer groaned. He reached into the pool and pulling out an ancient-looking stone staff, covered in vines and humming with energy. “Have you no moral reservations about destroying your own clone?”

“Nah, not really. I’d rather cut off any potential emotionally confusing relationships before they start, you know? That’s how I got to be me, Taako from TV, instead of some schmuck loitering in a cave and tripping over the hem of my own robe!”

“You talk a lot of smack for someone outnumbered and out-necromanced!” Chad growled. “Disintegrate him already, Dave!”

The tall necromancer twirled the staff, firing a vortex of sickly-green lightning at Taako — but Taako was ready, and unfurled his Umbra Staff as he summoned a whirlwind around him. It blew the scent of ozone and rotting wood back into the necromancers’ faces as it lifted Taako into the air like a twirling firework, carrying him up past the elevator and towards the giant stalactite in the center of the cavern.

Without even looking behind him, he plunged a hand into the damp stone at his back, transmuting on instinct and shaping the stalactite to provide him with handholds and footholds. Grinning at the stunned necromancers below him, he pointed his Umbra Staff straight down, and readied another spell.

“Actually, I think you’ll find I talk just the right amount of smack for someone with gravity on my side!” he crowed. “At Amazing Flip Wizard School, we learn to take every advantage we can get!”

As Taako summoned a freezing and highly distracting Sleet Storm, Angus took the opportunity to sneak around the pool, approaching Magnus and Merle from behind the necromancers’ backs. Merle was bound firmly in place with his back to the pool’s raised stone rim, while Magnus lay prone on the ground, flopping in place like a beached whale trapped in a mossy fishing net.

“Sirs?” Angus whispered “I’m not sure I’ll be able to just Prestidigitate you out of there…”

“Can you reach Railsplitter?” Magnus whispered back, awkwardly wriggling in place as he tried and failed to shed the tendrils binding his wrists. “I’m not sure where I dropped it…”

“Oh! I see it!” As the necromancers squabbled over who should be the one to wield their staff and fire back at Taako, Angus darted back towards the elevator —

“Look out!” Merle barked, just before a muscular green arm burst out from a mossy patch of ground at Magnus’s feet, stretching the full ten-meter distance to Railsplitter and swiping it right out from under Angus’s nose. The blade missed him by a hair’s width as the arm retracted backwards, returning to normal size as a full Magnus torso formed beneath it.

“Shit,” Magnus muttered.

At the edge of the pool, where the tendrils of moss that bound Merle touched the water, two ripples formed and from them two translucent dwarf-shaped figures emerged, stepping down onto the cave floor and following in the slimy footsteps of the Magnus clone as it approached Angus. It still wielded a very real Railsplitter in its gelatinous arms.

Angus turned around, ready to bolt for the elevator, but two new Taako clones emerged from the entry tunnel and stood atop the elevator’s upper platform, even in height with the real Taako’s stalactite perch. They drew their umbrellas in sync, one pointing at Taako and the other at Angus.

“Shit,” Merle agreed.

“Not so confident anymore, are you, wizard?” Dave boasted. “Your friends are at our mercy, now — and soon enough, you will be too!”

Even from close to a hundred feet below, Angus could see Taako tense up as he processed the situation… but then, he looked directly at Angus, and nodded solemnly.

“Actually, at Taako’s Amazing School of Flip Wizardry, this is just what we call a final exam!” he shouted, and vanished into thin air.

For exactly the next two-and-a-half seconds, both the necromancers and the slime constructs were too stunned to even react — and then all hell broke loose, as the earsplitting whine of a Shatter spell echoed through the cave and the stalactite exploded.

The second the falling rubble hit the pool, a disproportionately massive deluge of water cascaded across the chamber, instantly obliterating several newly formed Merle clones and knocking the necromancers off their feet. Just before the wave reached Angus, Taako blinked back into existence behind him, grabbing him by the wrist and lifting the two of them into the air with his umbrella.

“Stay up here while I finish the job, okay?” he told Angus, setting him down on the only dry ledge remaining in the cave. Without making eye contact, he smiled as he quietly added: “Don’t want anything to happen to you, ya know?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll —” Out of the corner of his eye, Angus spotted a pillar of decaying brown vines rising from the pile of rubble in the middle of the room. Along for the ride was one of the necromancers, his hands surrounded by crackling dark clouds. “Taako, look out!”

“Fuck!” Taako jumped in front of Angus, reopening his umbrella and bracing himself for the attack — but before the necromancer could unleash the spell, a sapphire-blue bolt of energy tore through the blighted vines suspending him, instantly vaporizing them as he plummeted to the ground and landed with a sickening crunch.

Then the sapphire aura solidified into a long, curved blade of translucent crystal, through which Angus could see tiny soul-lights dancing as the waves of the Astral Sea lapped against an island’s shore. Taako, for his part, was more preoccupied with the figure that manifested to hold the scythe — first appearing as a skeleton, then materializing a long raven-feather cloak, and at last transforming into a handsome dark-skinned man who scanned the situation below with eyes that had clearly seen their fair share of shit, but never anything quite this improbable.

“Well, these certainly aren’t the death criminals I assigned you to capture,” Kravitz said, “but I believe it’s still in both of our best interests to see them killed, so… I take it you’re interested in my help?”

***

End notes:

Between Barry Bluejeans, Jenkins, Lucas Miller, Lydia, and Edward, I like the idea that almost every single necromancer in the extended TAZ Balance universe has a comedically mundane name to contrast with their profession. Hence, Dave and Chad!

Starting with the next update, I’m going to attempt to post new chapters every other week from now on. (I’m working on Chapter 6 right now, so that should give you a rough estimate of how long that schedule will stay consistent.)

#taz #taz balance #taakitz #taako taaco #kravitz taz #angus mcdonald #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #lucretia taz #barry bluejeans #lup taaco #taz balance spoilers #rosalia writes fic #fic: FTRALA

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janaikam · 4 years

Text

I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You - Heroics

Day 2 of @luxyweek is here!

Part 1

Read on AO3

XY groaned as his XY bobblehead alarm clock blasted Paris, his latest single. Stretching his arm out, he attempted to turn it off, but he kept missing the bobblehead’s snooze button on its hair.

XY let out a sigh as he sat up on his bed, shutting off the alarm and looking at the time. 8:30.

He couldn’t think of any reason why he would set his alarm to such an early hour. Especially since it was a Saturday. It made no sense to him.

As his mind slowly became more awake, he remembered the blue-haired delivery boy from yesterday and how XY wanted to crash his charity concert today. It was something he didn’t want to miss cause he didn’t know when he would see the blue-haired wannabe again.

The concert was at 9:00, and if he wanted to have a chance to see Luka, he would have to try and get there early. Which meant XY needed to leave for Place des Vogues now. Jumping out of bed and into the bathroom, XY quickly threw on his signature outfit and gelled up his hair into its signature coif. Double checking that he looked presentable, XY grinned and finger gunned at his reflection.

It was gonna be a great day, he could feel it.

Satisfied with how he looked, XY walked out of his room and towards the elevator. The hallway was unusually quiet, causing him to tiptoe down the rest of the way. If people were being quiet then there had to be a good reason. Maybe there was a ghost, or maybe there was an axe murderer on the loose.

All he knew is that he wanted out of the hallway and fast. Thankfully, the elevator was there when he pressed the down button. The doors opened, revealing his father.

Great, someone he did NOT want to deal with this early in the morning.

“XY! My boy!” his father said as XY joined him on the elevator. Bob Roth put his arm around XY’s shoulder and pulled him close. “I have some amazing plans for your career. We’re gonna hit the studio so it looks like you’re making music to shoo away those nasty rumors, and then we’ll find some interviews for you to do. It’s gonna be great publicity!”

XY nodded. “That sounds gucci. But I’m actually going to see some bands perform in the park today. Hopefully, I’ll find some inspiration.” He winked for emphasis. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but who knew what his little trip might bring him.

“Great! We’ll get on this publicity stuff some other time! Have fun finding ‘inspiration’.” The elevator doors opened, revealing the lobby of Le Grand Paris. “Take some good videos!”

XY shook off the weird feeling that he always felt after having a conversation with his dad and continued his walk to the park. The walk itself wasn’t very long, but finding the place where they were having the concert took a while.

It turned out that they rented out a small corner of the park and had formed a makeshift gate around the tiny performance area.

There were two girls manning the gate entrance. A light-skinned girl with bluish looking hair and a darker-skinned girl with red ombre colored hair. They appeared to be collecting money from people as they walked in. XY didn’t really understand why, but charity concerts were weird.

XY checked his jacket pocket for any cash he had on him. While the two girls would likely let him in without any problem, it would probably be best if he didn’t cause a scene. He didn’t know what paparazzi would be around.

Perhaps they might think he was being generous by giving the girls money.

He found a wad of cash in his pocket that looked to be about 420 U.S. dollars. He guessed that it was from his last tour in the United States. It didn’t really matter because it was still a lot of money, and those girls would appreciate it anyways.

As he got closer, XY noticed that their faces seemed to become a bit more closed off once they noticed him approaching. Assuming they were just nervous fans, he strode right up to them and dropped the wad of cash on the table. The girls were frozen, clearly not having expected the donation. XY smiled, proud of himself. Those girls would totally buy his next album.

“Keep the change,” he told them, winking.

He made his way to the front of the stage to try and get backstage, but the second he saw the large bodyguard at the backstage entrance, XY turned back to the crowd gathering around the stage.

He wasn’t ready to confront a bodyguard after his last encounter.

Pushing his way to the front of the stage, XY stole a spot right near the front so he would have a great spot to watch the band. He barely had any time to question why he would want a spot near the front before the band came out a minute later.

A girl in all pink walked up to the microphone set up at the front of the stage while the rest got settled in their positions. XY spotted Luka standing to the right of the pink girl.

“Thank you all for showing up today! It means so much to us and the animals at the shelter!” the girl said. “We have a few songs to sing for you today so-”

An obnoxious cackling from above interrupted whatever the girl was going to say. Looking up to where the cackling was coming from, XY saw that a brightly colored woman was floating in the sky.

Her hair was moving in all different directions. She had a belt of hair sprays around her waist and a long flowy cape behind her. The woman’s face seemed to be angry, and XY wondered what the source of her anger was. He kinda felt bad for whoever it was.

“THERE YOU ARE YOU SELF LOVING PRICK!!! YOU HAVE STOLEN MY HAIR PRODUCTS FOR THE LAST TIME!!!” the floating woman yelled, pointing straight towards him. She reached for one of the many cans around her waist and aimed it straight at him.

At this point, most of the crowd around him had run away, too scared to be associated with the rock star. Jerks.

Instead of running away like everyone else, XY simply moved closer to the front of the stage, ignoring the akuma’s rant. He wanted to see a concert, and an akuma wasn’t going to stop him.

Honestly if XY got hit, then it would be the heroes’ fault for not saving him. If they wouldn’t do their jobs then who would?

Right as he got to the front of the stage, Luka dived straight on top of him. Barely a second later there was a blast right where XY had been standing.

He belatedly realized that Luka had acted as a ‘hero’ and saved him. XY crossed his arms in frustration. He didn’t need some wannabe hero risking his life to try and save him. XY could risk his own life all on his own. Luka had no reason to try and save him.

XY huffed as Luka dragged him up off the ground and out of the park. He followed only because he wanted to give the wannabe a piece of his mind.

Luka dragged him towards some alleyway behind a group of buildings outside the park. The akuma was still following them, landing hits on anyone who had the misfortune of being in her path.

The people who were hit turned into puffs of colored air. Based on the smell of the air, XY could tell that it was hairspray and not good hairspray at that.

The alleyway twisted around and they got pretty far, but unfortunately, it led to a dead end. Luka turned back towards the path they came down, only to stop in his tracks as the akuma appeared, blocking their path.

“Finally, I have you right where I want you,” the akuma said. She stepped closer to the two of them, and Luka pushed XY behind him, standing protectively in front of XY.

“If you want him, you’ll have to go through me.”

The akuma chuckled. “Aw, you need your little boyfriend to save you,” she teased. “In that case, I guess I’ll just have to get you both.”

A yo-yo shot out from a nearby roof, wrapping itself around the akuma’s wrist effectively stopping her from spraying her can. “Nice try Hairspray!”

On the roof, Ladybug had a tight grip on her yo-yo as Chat Noir landed right next to her, examining the situation. “Looks like someone is having a bad hair day.”

Everyone in the alley, including the akuma, groaned at the pun. It was really bad, what was Chat Noir even thinking?

A purple butterfly flashed across the akuma’s face and quickly disappeared. With a new determination, Hairspray yanked on Ladybug’s yo-yo, causing her to fall into the alley.

Taking advantage of Ladybug’s now vulnerable state, Hairspray whipped out her cans and started shooting at her. Ladybug quickly recovered and used her yo-yo as a shield to protect XY and Luka.

Chat Noir dropped down behind XY, startling him. “Grab onto me. I’m gonna get you two to safety.”

Luka moved and grabbed onto one of Chat’s arms. Chat reached out his other arm to XY, and the singer reluctantly took it. Why did everybody have the need to save him today?

Though he had expected it, XY couldn’t help but scream when Chat Noir shot the three of them up into the air. Chat proceeded to jump across multiple roofs until they landed in an abandoned street.

“I’m never letting you save me again. I was in more danger than in that alley! I could have died!!” XY exclaimed, shooting his arms in the air.

Luka and Chat Noir shared a glance, almost as if they were communicating something through their eyes.

“You’re right. Jumping across the roofs was not safe. And you know you’re still not safe here.” Chat looked around for a second and spotted what he was looking for. Chat motioned for XY to follow. “Take this special portal, and you’ll immediately be transported to the safest place in Paris.”

Chat lifted up a sewer cover for XY to enter. “That looks like it goes to the sewers.”

“No, no, no, this is a special portal. My miraculous magic has transformed this sewer into a portal. All you have to do is go through it,” Chat reassured, a friendly smile on his face.

XY shrugged, believing the hero because why would he lie? He started his climb into the portal only to lose his grip and fall straight into sewer water.

“HEY!! THIS IS JUST A SEWER!!!”

#luxyweek2k20 #luka #xy #chat noir #marinette #alya #my writing #my fic #heroics #i cant help falling in love with you

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rainverry · 5 years

Text

perfect

pairing: mark lee x female reader word count: 3.7k words genre: angst, songfic (perfect by one direction) warnings: cursing, suggestive scenes author’s note: hello there! this one shot is on my fanfiction but i’ve decided to turn it into a mark lee one shot because we all need a little bit of mark lee angst in our life.

Awkward. That is how you feel as you sit across from your date who downs the last of his drink. You toy with your already-empty glass, your eyes darting to the dance floor, to the ceiling, to the flashing lights, to anything but him.

"Do you want another drink?" your eyes snap to him when he asks suddenly. You nod silently, handing your glass over to him. You aren't thirsty, but anything to make the situation less awkward.

His figure becomes smaller and smaller as he walks to the bar to get another drink. You let out a grumble, wishing you're at home, watching romantic comedies while eating leftover pizza under the covers. But instead, you are on this awkward date with a stranger, courtesy of Jennie.

You know she is just looking out for you, since you weren't seeing anyone -- or that was what Jennie thought.

You were seeing someone. Or should you even call it that? Your thoughts drift to him, from his deep brown eyes that held the universe to his contagious laugh...

"I'll die if this plan fails," Mark chuckles, both of you slipping into the elevator. Thank God you're alone. "I've worked so hard on this plan for weeks."

"Weeks? You planned this elaborate prank for weeks?" you say jokingly.

"Oh please, he pranked me in the worst possible -- he put purple hair dye in my shampoo and my hair was the ugliest shade of purple for a week!" he grumbled. "He's going to pay for that."

When the elevator dings and the doors open, you ask quietly, "Room 210, right?"

"Right," he nods. He winks, "Don't fail me, baby."

Rolling your eyes fondly, you turn and look for Room 210, with him hot on your heels.

208...209... Aha! 210, you think to yourself. "Showtime." you say under your breath.

You give a frantic knock on the door, and Mark stands in front of you, the bucket of flour ready in his hands.

Soon, a messy bedhead peeks out of the room, and Mark immediately pours the bucket over his head, the white flour going all over.

"Hey! Who's that?" Johnny sounds enraged, his voice groggy and muffled by the bucket. Mark and you burst out laughing, clinging onto each other like there is no tomorrow.

"Revenge is sweet!" Mark chides, his beautiful eyes sparkling cheerfully.

You snap out of your thoughts when your date -- what was his name again? -- sits across from you again, handing you your drink.

"Here you go," he says almost curtly, and you accept the drink with a small "thank you".

Your date -- Doyoung, you remember now -- clears his throat, giving you a small smile, and you groan inwardly. Honestly, you are in no mood for conversation. It was already awkward between you two, and more conversation would lead to silence, which would make the situation even more awkward than it already is.

"How long have you known Jennie for?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"For as long as I can remember," you shrug. "She's been with me through everything and all. She's my best friend."

"I can see that," Doyoung smiles, running a hand through his curly black hair.

"What about you?" you ask him rather unwillingly. "How do you know Jennie?"

"Oh, uh..." he chuckles nervously. "She's my ex."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. If Jennie dated this guy, you would have known him. "Oh?"

"Yeah, but it ended in good terms, actually. We only dated for like a week." he answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

The silence again...

"Mark, you're going to get yourself arrested," you squeal, trying to ignore the fact that the boy beside you was driving at 120 kilometres per hour, and that the passenger seat window is wide open and cold wind is stinging your cheeks. You grip your seat belt tighter.

"No cops around here," he laughs. "Just the two of us, baby."

"Drive slower!" you cry over the deafening wind.

"No chance of that," he grins wolfishly, his dark brown eyes darting to you for a split second.

"If I die you've got blood on your hands," you sigh jokingly. He didn't say anything after that, and -- thankfully -- slowed down not long after. You fall into a comfortable silence, before you ask, "Where is our destination, exactly?"

He stares into your eyes again with those damn brown eyes. So piercing, so deep, it makes you melt. With a grin, he says, "Nowhere."

Your thoughts drift away when Doyoung's phone rings.

"Um," Doyoung looks at you sheepishly, "I have to take this."

You shrug, and he walks away to answer his call. You sigh deeply for the hundredth time that night. This might be the most disastrous date you've ever been on. You take a sip of your still-full drink, and your eyes dart all over the club, trying to find someone or something that could pass your time.

And that's when you see him.

You spit out your fruit punch when you see him. He's here. Here, in this club with you, after you two "broke up" merely two weeks ago.

There he is, leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, laughing with the bartender, his brown eyes sparkling as it always did when he laughed.

You take in his appearance. He is clad in a simple black shirt and jeans, his dark hair styled up a little different than usual, and a stubble had grown since the last time you saw him.

Oh my God. Oh my God. He looks so fucking good, your mind immediately goes to "I-is-potato" mode. You couldn't comprehend what's actually happening that you completely freeze up on the spot, the drink in your hand immediately forgotten.

"You know... we can't keep doing this," you say one day, the thin sheets of Mark's bed covering your bare body. Your breathing is still uneven as you stare dolefully at the ceiling.

"What do you mean?" he barely asks as he rolls over from laying on his stomach and ghosts his lips over yours, his hair falling into his eyes.

You slowly sit up, gently pushing him away. "I mean, is that..." you sigh, fear and dread seeping through to your bones at what you're about to say. There's no turning back now. "We have to stop seeing each other. I want to be in a serious relationship, and not just mess around."

He also gets up, a scowl etching his usually jaunty features. "You said you weren't looking for one," he growls lowly.

"Honestly? I've thought about it. And I've changed my mind. I want to be with someone who's serious about a relationship," you get up from his bed and start dressing yourself as quickly as you could. You ignore his piercing stare burning holes right through you.

"You mean throw away everything we've been together?" You can't help but look up to him when you hear him speak. He still has that frown on his face, his body still bare from the passion you shared a mere ten minutes ago.

"None of it was serious, it was just messing around, remember?" you quote him from a few months ago, tugging your pants up your legs. You finally look away from him, steadying yourself on his nightstand after your legs wobble slightly.

"Wait," you hear him scrambling to get his clothes as he pleads. "Stay." But you can't look at him. You can't.

You turn and walk away when you're done dressing. You close the door shut behind you as you step out, wiping away the tears that suddenly fall from your eyes. You're sure that it'll be the last time you'll ever see him again.

But here you are, in the same damn bar with him, while he laughs away at something someone tells him. Like he didn't break your heart a mere two weeks ago. Like you didn't leave your heart with him when you left that room that fateful day.

You try to crane your neck to see what he's doing when he steps out of your view, and you almost forget where you are until Doyoung's soft voice snaps you from your thoughts and brings you back to reality. And for a second, you forget that the man you're in love with is on the other side of the room.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asks with concern, his eyebrows knitting together ever so slightly.

Looking at his face, you decide that you're finally tired of lying to this guy, so you smile ruefully. Neither one of you wants to be here anyway. "Honestly, Doyoung, not really. I'm sorry that Jennie forced us both on this date."

His face is blank for a moment, and you're afraid that you've said the wrong thing. But then he cracks a smile at your bluntness. "I was afraid that you weren't feeling the same way."

You're about to reply, when the sound of a microphone being turned on and spoken into catches both your attention. Your eyes dart to the stage at the corner of the room, where a man is standing and speaking into the microphone. You decide to ignore what he's going to say, until you hear the last few words coming out of his mouth.

"So, with his original song 'Perfect', I present to you, Mark Lee!" the man says, and your eyes widen the size of saucers and your heart swells in your chest when you hear his name.

A song. He's going to sing a song.

He once told you he likes songwriting, but he does it as an occasional hobby and he hasn't written a full song or anything substantial yet. You didn't even know if he could string a few notes together to form something that could be called a song.

But an original song? With an instrumental, a melody? You know he plays the guitar, but imagining him composing a full song is so unusual, yet amazing.

Suddenly, Mark steps out from the darkness onto the brightly lit stage, and all of your thoughts about the song melt away. Seeing his breathtaking features under the lights made your heart flutter. God, the things this man does to you.

The crowd roars in excitement as he stands center stage, and there are even a few wolf whistles coming from some girls. You can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the fact that these girls would hear him sing only in a few moments, when he's admitted to you before that he's only sung in front a few people before, you included.

He flashes the crowd his killer grin that makes your heart beat so loud you could hear it in your ears.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" he yells into the microphone, earning him some cheers from the crowd.

You close your eyes at the sound of his voice. God, you missed it so much. It is so deep, soft, and smooth, that it makes the butterflies in your stomach feel like eagles.

"So, fun fact, this is actually the first song that I've ever written and composed by myself. It's a bit cheesy, but I hope you like it," Mark admits. "I dedicate this song to the girl I let get away too easily, even though I shouldn't have. She was the best thing that's ever happened to me. I miss her so damn much, and if you're somewhere in the audience listening, _______, I love you... and I always have."

The lights dim and the music slowly starts, and everyone starts swaying from side to side.

Everyone except for you.

"I might never be your knight in shining armour I might never be the one you take home to mother And I might never be the one who brings you flowers But I can be the one, be the one tonight"

His words echo in your head.

I love you... and I always have.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you know it's Doyoung.

"Hey, you know that guy?" he asks quietly, and you slowly nod.

"He's the one I was seeing before this," you tell him just as quietly, turning to see his face threaded with confusion.

"And... he loves you?" he questions.

"Yeah..." you pause before continuing. "And I love him."

"When I first saw you From across the room I could tell that you were curious, Oh, yeah Girl, I hope you're sure What you're looking for 'Cause I'm not good at making promises"

You can't help but close your eyes in regret when you hear those words. Those were the exact words he told you when you first met him. And you agreed to only mess around with him, before he took your heart and you fucked everything up.

"You... love him? Then why did you leave him?" Doyoung gasps in surprise.

"Because I... I didn't know he loved me back. And I wanted a serious relationship," you say, trying not to let your voice waver. Tears start pooling in your eyes. You want to scream, cry, laugh and sob at the same time. A thousand questions run through your mind, and the room starts spinning right in front of your eyes.

Why? Why didn't he stop you from leaving that day? Why didn't he tell you he loved you? Why did he take your heart and break it into a million pieces?

"But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms And if you like having secret little rendezvous If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do Then baby, I'm perfect Baby, I'm perfect for you And if you like midnight driving with the windows down And if you like going places we can't even pronounce If you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about Then baby, you're perfect Baby, you're perfect So let's start right now"

Even though the tears start falling, a smile creeps its way onto your face. You run a hand through your locks as all your memories with him come hitting you like a ton of bricks. He wrote the song about you two -- about your relationship, if you could even call it that.

"It looks like he really loves you, eh?" Doyoung says jokingly, and you laugh through your tears and wipe them away.

"I'm sorry I'm crying over my ex on what is supposed to be our date," you grin at him, trying to lighten the mood. You sniffle slightly, and he reaches in his pocket and hands you a tissue.

"You know what... what if we just be friends?" he offers, and you nod appreciatively.

"I think I'd like that."

"I might never be the hands you put your heart in Or the arms that hold you any time you want them But that don't mean that we can't live here in the moment 'Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

When I first saw you From across the room I could tell that you were curious, Oh, yeah Girl, I hope you're sure What you're looking for 'Cause I'm not good at making promises"

You close your eyes and enjoy his voice. Hearing him sing, about the both of you, brings out all the emotions you thought you had locked away in the back of your mind. You had only met him a few months ago, but it's crazy how those few months changed your entire life.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms And if you like having secret little rendezvous If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do Then baby, I'm perfect Baby, I'm perfect for you And if you like midnight driving with the windows down And if you like going places we can't even pronounce If you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about Then baby, you're perfect Baby, you're perfect So let's start right now

"He's got a huge talent there," Doyoung suddenly speaks up after being quiet for a while. "Singing, and songwriting. That's quite a dangerous combo. You're quite the lucky girl."

You smile inwardly, but you frown at Doyoung. "He and I are over, Doyoung," you say firmly, but you feel yourself cringe as you say those words.

"What? Even after you heard him say he's in love with you?" Doyoung raises his eyebrows.

"But... but what if he still only wants to mess around? What if he tells me he loves me but is seeing someone behind my back?" you cry out, your frown turning into a deep scowl. "What if... what if he hasn't changed at all?"

Even though you can tell he wants to reply, Doyoung falls silent upon hearing your words. And to be completely honest, you couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth either. You would be lying if you told yourself that every inch of your body didn't ache for Mark for every second after that day two weeks ago.

And if you like cameras flashing every time we go out, Oh, yeah And if you're looking for someone to write your break-up songs about Baby, I'm perfect Baby, we're perfect

It is too much for you to listen anymore. You shake your head to get rid of all the thoughts clouding your head. The room is spinning again, and all of a sudden you feel claustrophobic in this dark, cramped and crowded club.

If you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms And if you like having secret little rendezvous If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do Then baby, I'm perfect Baby, I'm perfect for you And if you like midnight driving with the windows down And if you like going places we can't even pronounce If you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about Then baby, you're perfect Baby, you're perfect So let's start right now

Mark finally finishes singing, and the crowd roars and claps cheerfully, not helping with your growing headache. It takes a moment for you to get a hold of your surroundings before you tap Doyoung on the arm and he looks at you questioningly.

"I think I need some fresh air," you barely breathe out, and he nods understandingly.

You immediately sprint out of the club and into the alleyway beside it. Thankfully, it is deserted. But it is also dark and cold, and you curse yourself for wearing such a short dress and no jacket. You lean against the wall to hide yourself in the shadows in case any creeps or perverts see you here.

You slowly breathe in and breathe out, which is what you usually do whenever you get a headache. You close your eyes to gather your thoughts and do not notice the shadow at the end of the alleyway until it's too late.

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be out here alone," a deep, familiar voice sends a chill down your spine, and you curse under your breath at the fact that you didn't really think straight before going out here. But you swear to not let his sexy voice deter you this time.

"I'm a grown woman, I can handle myself, thanks," you snap at him, not turning to look at him because you don't know what would happen if you do.

He stays quiet for a moment before piping up again. "You moved on quick," he tries to say casually, but you weren't born yesterday. You might have only known him for a few months, but you still remember the late nights he begged you to come over so he could bury his face in your neck and sob his heart out. You know he's trying to hide the pain in his voice.

"What does it matter to you?" you ask harshly.

Mark finally steps into view and you try to hold back a gasp when you see how amazing he looks. Seeing him on stage is nothing compared to seeing him up close, and it's driving you wild. He's wearing a jacket now, and his hands are tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

"It matters to me because I love you," Mark's tone softens.

"That's not what you said the last time I saw you," you seethe, determined to sound as cold as possible, but who are you kidding? He probably knows you as well as you know him. "And anyway, I'm happy with my new guy. You should leave me alone."

For a moment, he stands there unmoved, and you assume he would turn around and finally leave you. But in the next moment, you're suddenly pressed up against the wall, with his body on yours, and your arms pinned next to your head.

"What are you doing?" you ask him, intending for your tone to come out harsh, instead it's breathy and flustered.

"Why are you such a tease?" he growls lowly, peppering your neck with kisses. "Laughing and talking with your new boyfriend while I'm in the background singing the song I wrote for you."

"Mark, stop," you whimper, but you don't really mean it. He feels so good being pressed up against you. You didn't know how much you really missed him until you feel his lips against your skin. "What's between us, it's over."

"You know you want this," he whispers against your neck, and it takes all strength in your body to not let out a moan when he kisses your sweet spot. "You and I both know it."

"My date's in there," you lie weakly, getting lost in the haze of lust. "He--he's waiting for me."

"Fuck your date," he growls again. "You want me, and only me."

You do, you really do. But you refuse to let your heart get hurt.

"No, Mark," you shove him with all your might, and he stumbles back. "I want to be with him. I want to be with someone I know I can be with for the rest of my life. Someone who wouldn't sleep with me one day, and kiss someone else the next day."

"You really think I would do that?" he asks you, an emotion you couldn't decipher flashing in his eyes.

"Just stop, Mark! You don't know how much it kills me to be completely head-over-heels in love with you, but you don't feel the same way. To know that you will never be truly mine!" your voice cracks and you sob, tears finally falling from your eyes. His face softens and he gets closer to you, wiping away the tears on your cheeks with his thumb. He cups your face with his hands, looking into your eyes.

Before you know it, his lips connect with yours for a mind-blowing kiss. A kiss that shouldn't feel this good, but it is like your lips were made to kiss each other. A perfect match in heaven.

"Mark," you breathe as you pull away, unable to think properly. Your mind is in a blur, your thoughts all jumbled up in a haze. You stare into his soulful, piercing brown eyes, full of emotion.

"Shh," he whispers into your ear, snaking a strong arm around your waist. You feel so small, so little in front of him, but when he embraces you, your bodies mold together perfectly, as one. Like you were made for each other.

He presses his lips against yours again, and you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

"I'm all yours," he says against your lips, and you imprint those words onto your mind.

He is yours.

And you are his.

#nct angst #mark angst #nct au #nct imagine #nct one shot #nct songfic #mark au #nct scenario #nct fluff #mark fluff #mark fic #nct fic #nct #nct u #nct 127 #mine #soulmate #*

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malumsmermaid · 5 years

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A/N: So, been watching a lot of Ghost Adventures, wanted to do something with ghost hunting, and uh, so this happened out of it. It’s in the same universe as Toxic Valentine because that world is already started so uh yeah. Anyway it’s a fun one and I have an idea I’m gonna explain more at the end.

Word Count: 5,336

Warnings: language? not really much else tbh

Description: Demon!Calum x Ghost Hunter

Calum settled into his large leather sofa with a sigh, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. He flipped on his tv, snapping his fingers, smiling as his now open beer landed on the coaster next to his foot as the refrigerator door slammed shut. He scrolled through the guide, settling on a rerun of Cutthroat Kitchen.

He had finished off this month’s list of people who owed debts to the king and other higher ranking demons, the final four all ending up at the same coffeeshop, sitting at the counter waiting for their coffee, each looking tired and hunted. When Calum got their attention, his brown eyes shifting to pure black, they all followed him quietly. When they appeared at the office, they each had their coffee order in hand, Calum figuring he’d give them a slight reward for not making him chase them down. Allowing them to at least have something to fiddle with while they had to stand in the check-in line.

He gave them a quick warning about what would happen if they chose to try and sneak out, thanked them for the long weekend he was about to begin, and then turned to walk to the elevators, his whole day now clear, so he had time to take the long ride back up to the surface, slipping his phone out of his pocket to make plans.

For tonight though, his only plans involved his couch and some tv. He was halfway through his beer and Simon was just about to announce who was not going to be in the final round when Ashton appeared on the couch next to him. Both demons sat quietly for a moment, Calum waiting until the show cut to break to ask, “We got a case?”

Neither demon were typically delivery boys, at least not anymore, but things were quiet at the moment and they hadn’t risen as far as they had in the past couple centuries by slacking off. Ashton shook his head in response, fingers running through his tousled red hair before he spoke. “I need you to cover for me. I’m supposed to check in on one of the portals tonight, but-“ He paused and Calum raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at the fidgeting demon next to him. “It’s just, it’s one year since Angel and I started officially seeing each other and I wanted to do something for them.”

Calum smiled, letting out a soft chuckle, joking, “Neither of you are human, time doesn’t really matter.” Ashton’s hazel eyes widened at his response, flicking upwards as if to remind him of why the anniversary was important, and Calum hummed. “Yeah, I get it, don’t worry, but you owe me two cases of beer, alright?”

“There’s a ghost hunting team there tonight.”

Calum laughed quietly, shaking his head, “Ok, one case of beer, just because I like to fuck with the ghost hunters. But you’re up to three if they bring a spirit box, those things are fucking annoying.”

Ashton grinned, clapping his friend on the shoulder in gratitude before turning into shadow, leaving Calum to his show.

*******

Rose smiled into Matt’s camera as they did a final check on their gear, making sure that, at least for the moment, the batteries were all charged up and everything was functioning. A few strange things had already happened while they were shooting their interviews and going over the history of the location, so she hoped that now, as the full moon was shining down in all her glory, the activity would be on the rise. She pocketed her ovilus as Violet walked up, holding the thermal cam and spirit box. Once Erin and Sid walked back into their command center and confirmed that everything was rolling and ready to go, they made plans, initially splitting up into three different areas of the building to do solo investigations while Erin and Sid watched the live feed of the X cams they’d already set up, to be where the other three couldn’t. They’d regroup at the command center and go over they’d experienced so far in three hours, then Matt, Vi, and Rose would all go into the room where the alleged portal was located.

The ghost hunters were so focused on checking everything that they didn’t notice the temperature sensor on the other side of the room go off as Calum appeared in their base camp, keeping himself invisible to the humans in the room for the moment. The demon rested his hand on the back of one of the office chairs in front of the monitors, scoping out which rooms they had cameras in. One corner of his mouth pulled up when he noticed that one of the stationary cameras was unsurprisingly pointed at the portal he was supposed to be checking on. He shook his head before looking up in surprise at the sound of a camera shutter. He looked towards the group, noticing that one of the women was holding a full spectrum camera and doing a few test snaps around the room. The camera went off again while Calum was frozen, this time pointed straight at him. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to be checking the photos in that moment, maybe not expecting anything to be in the control room with them, though Calum was aware of two weak spirits, cowering in the corner, trying to not be noticed by the demon in the room. He straightened his suit and gave a quick salute to the two ghosts and disappeared, having decided to go wait in one of the rooms for the team to get started.

He didn’t have to wait long, watching as Matt slowly made his way into the dark room, switching off his flashlight so that the night vision camera in his hand could actually do its job. Calum hummed, listening to Matt drone on about using his energy to appear and that he wasn’t there to hurt the spirits and whatever else he had to say to what he believed to be in the room with him. Calum rolled his eyes, lobbing a small stick towards the stationary cam in front of him, nodding at the ghosts whose forms were growing stronger as Matt spoke to the room, and disappeared, letting out a bored sigh into the digital recorder as he did so.

He appeared with the next person, trying to decide what he should do when the purple UV lights of the full spectrum and the static screech of the spirit box covered him. “Ok, guys, there’s a shadow in the room with me now, I’m seeing it on the full spectrum. I’m going to attempt communication with this entity. Hello, if you are the shadow in the room, can you tell me your name? Do you mean any of us harm?”

Calum’s hands went to shield his ears as he said, “ow, shit.” The words made their way out of the spirit box and he took the young woman’s freak out over his communication to vanish, this time just running out into the hallway to get away.

He decided to take a quick stop in on the portal to do his actual job before continuing to mess with the hunters. He refreshed the incantations that kept it under their control and fixed up a few other issues he noticed as he took in the portal, humming quietly as he did so.

Once he finished everything he needed with the portal he strolled over to where the team’s equipment reading this room was. He looked at the main camera, another full spectrum lighting the room purple. It made sense that there would be one of those in the most active room in the building. He turned his attention to the other piece of equipment, looking at the large screen. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he noticed that in addition to mapping the room, it was reading the atmospheric conditions. “Definitely set some of that stuff off.” he murmured, glancing at the temperature and humidity readings which were slowly moving back to where they had originally been now that he had finished his work on the portal.

He knew things wouldn’t fully stabilize until he left the room, his thoughts going to the bright red haired woman he had yet to see. She had clearly been the leader of the investigation, which would make her the most fun for Calum to fuck with. His mind flicked back to a tale from a ghost at a hotel Calum had visited once, telling him how he had once thrown a large man with spiked black hair down the hall and sent him crying for the rest of his team, shaken up from their meeting.

He was about to go to the other room with a stationary cam that he hadn’t visited yet when he heard a woman from the doorway, speaking into her walkie talkie, “Yeah, I’m heading into the portal room to check out what you guys have been seeing, I’ll be in touch if anything gets crazy and I need backup.”

She panned the room with her infrared camera, calling out, “Hello? Is anyone in here? My friends are using this piece of equipment we set up earlier tonight and they saw the conditions in this room going crazy. Did you want our attention? Do you want me in here?”

“Not really,” Calum stated, not caring whether his voice was captured only on the audio for later or if the red haired woman he’d just been thinking about heard him herself. “Was just trying to do what my buddy sent me here to do.”

He paused, standing behind the two different cameras, listening to the silence that had taken over. Clearly she had yet to hear him. He glanced to his right at the screen and saw a little stick person appear, labeled “anomaly detected.” Shit. He’d possibly been seen doing his work as well. He glanced over his shoulder to see a new ghost, an old woman, smiling at him, as if she were enjoying the show that he was now involved in. He sighed, throwing his arm out away from his body, dispelling the spirit temporarily. He could hear voices coming over the radio the girl had on her hip, but she seemed to be paying more attention to the room itself than her friends’ updates on the stick figure.

“I have a device in my hand, it’s an Ovilus III. You can scroll through it to find the words you want to use to answer my questions, do you understand?”

Calum grinned, he much preferred this sort of device. He floated over, trying to keep from crunching the scattered bits of rock and broken glass that covered the floor by hovering above it. However, as he landed behind her he landed on a large piece of glass, making a loud crunch as it was caught between the bottoms of his Docs and the floor. He let out a breath, leaning over her to put his hand on the device.

“I’m feeling a heavy presence around me.” Rose said into her camera, turned toward her face as she skimmed the room.

Calum just smiled, finding two words he wanted to say.

“You’re cute,” the ovilus slowly spat out in its robotic voice.

She gasped, camera pointed at the display screen now, showing only the world ‘cute.’ She closed her eyes for a moment, licking her lips before asking, “Are you the presence I feel around me?”

“Yes,” both Calum and the ovilus said.

“Can you tell me what you are?”

“Don’t wanna scare you yet.” Calum smiled, smirk falling when the ovilus only managed ‘don’t…scare.’

“Is something scaring you, or do you not want to scare me?” Rose asked after a moment, trying to make sense of Calum’s message.”

‘Second.’ he willed the ovilus to respond, staring at the dark black line under the word. His focus on finding the right word seemed to have used a lot of power, if what he understood about the device was correct.

“Okay,” the ghost hunter said shakily, “I understand. Thank you.” An alarm went off and Rose glanced down at her watch. She chewed her lip before asking, “I have to go meet with the rest of my team now. We’re going to come right back into this room after we change batteries and talk for a little while. Can you stick around and talk to all of us when we come back?”

“Course doll.” Calum said, satisfied that the device actually caught both words this time and not just the affirmation or the term of endearment.

“Th-thank you,” she said and Calum pulled back off of her, allowing her to leave the room without running through him.

Calum hummed, watching her until she turned a corner. He smiled to himself, floating upwards and just resting on one of the rafters. He leaned his head back against the wooden beam. He knew he’d made a lot of noise tonight and perhaps should’ve waited a little longer to start his work, but he did halfway just want to go curl back up on his sofa with his hell hound, seeing what other torturous things Alton Brown could come up with for those who dared to brave his kitchen.

He considered for a moment summoning Duke here, but the dog was about as old as Calum was, which was pretty damn old for a hell hound. If Calum hadn’t taken Duke in he probably would’ve been dispelled as he started to slow down, not able to shadow travel as well anymore. Calum’s heart was still a little soft, so he’d allowed the dog to live out the rest of his days in comfort, disguised as a small fluffy dog so that his human neighbors wouldn’t freak out over the shadowy dog romping through his yard.

So he decided against summoning the dog here, even if he could technically carry Duke through the portal to go home, choosing to just let the dog sleep. It was the middle of the night anyway. He wondered if he’d rather they use the spirit box when they came back in. As much as it hurt his ears, at least he could completely communicate his thoughts to his company.

“How long are they going to sit around and talk about things?” he groaned, glancing to the open door.

He was a demon, he didn’t have to keep the promise he’d made to the girl, but then again, he felt compelled to keep his word. He decided instead to focus on the other presences in the room. Several were just impressions, stuck forever in a time loop, repeating a few moments in their life over and over until the end of time. The other three were intelligent, two of them drawn by the energy and power radiating from Calum. The third was the old woman, returned from wherever in the building Calum had sent her earlier. He hummed, eyebrows furrowing as he focused in on her.

He hopped down from his rafter, gracefully landing in front of her. “Pardon me ma’am, but there’s something familiar about you. Did you create the portal?”

The old woman nodded, shifting her silver braids over her shoulder. “Thank you for maintaining it. I prefer you to the others who have come in years past.”

Calum smiled at her, “You got lucky tonight. My friend was supposed to come tonight, but he got me to cover for him.”

She hummed, grasping Calum’s wrist. He jumped in shock, she was probably just as powerful, if not more powerful, in death as she was in life. Very few ghosts were able to touch him at all, and her grip was firm. Her eyes were closed and she nodded slowly, “I like him too. He’s nice to talk to. You both have potential to be good, to ascend from your current state.”

Calum laughed, “Luke and Michael say the same thing.” He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head as he went on, “Don’t think their boss would see things the same though.”

The woman shrugged again, “never know if you don’t try.”

He hummed, nodding quietly before continuing to talk with the old woman. Soon enough they both heard footsteps coming towards them down the corridor. She smiled up at Calum, “You’ve kept your promise to the ghost hunter. We’ll talk again next time.”

Calum just stared as she faded from the room, taking the other spirits with her. He sighed, quietly settling into the old rickety chair as he listened to spirit box girl talk to the camera, giving a recap of the room’s importance and what the other girl had experienced earlier in the night.

“Is the entity I was speaking to earlier still here? I didn’t introduce myself earlier, I’m Rose, I brought my friends Matt and Violet with me. I have the same device we were using when we spoke earlier. Can you tell me your name?”

Calum smiled, walking over slowly.

“Rose, there’s some black mist showing up on my camera! It’s coming toward us.” Matt called.

Calum stopped a few feet from Rose, humming quietly as he put a finger to the ovilus, pulling up his name.

“Calum.” The ovilus droned and Rose grinned.

“Are you the spirit I was talking to earlier, Calum?”

“Yes.”

“Are you the mist my friend is seeing on his camera?”

Another “yes.”

“Is it ok if we use a different device to communicate with you? It may allow you to answer our questions more completely.”

Calum shook his head, he’d had a feeling this was coming, and he was debating how many beers Ashton may owe him over this. “If…Must,” the ovilus rattled out and Calum sighed.

“Okay then…” Rose said, glancing at her other friends, who were staring at her in shock. Even having seen the footage from earlier they still couldn’t believe what was happening.

Violet stepped forward in a daze, switching on the spirit box before looking over at Rose. She just nodded at her friend and continued on, “Ok Calum, use our energy and the energy being put out by this new device to continue communicating with us. It’s ok if you need a second to shift your focus.”

Calum just laughed, they really had no idea what they were dealing with. “Sounds dangerous, sweetheart.” he stated, smiling at the echo of his voice through the speaker of the box.

Rose took a deep breath, eyes glued to the spirit box. “Earlier you said you didn’t want to scare me by telling me who or what you are, I have my friends here now, so I might be less scared. Can you tell me now?”

“Darkness.” Calum replied simply with a shrug.

“We got that from the mist I’m seeing, Calum. Can you give us any other sort of sign as to what you are?” Matt asked, calling across the room while he kept his camera trained on the two women.

Calum took a moment to think about his next move. He tried to pull his focus from the screeching of the spirit box, to bring his attention to anything other than the white noise filling the cavernous room. “God, I know that thing makes it easier for ghosts to talk, but…”

He paused mid sentence, draining the battery of the spirit box before appearing before them in his human form, also killing Matt’s camera just for the hell of it, “It hurts my fucking ears.”

The trio stared at him in shock, completely frozen as they took him in. He grinned at them, gently taking Rose’s hand and pressing it to her lips. “Was nice to meet you Rose. I was just s’posed to check on our portal and head out, but it’s been nice helping the ghosts show you three a good time.” Rose found her voice again, “What are you? You keep avoiding it. You killed our spirit box to appear, and you said ghosts, like you aren’t one.”

Calum just laughed, his brown irises glowing orange, so that the humans could actually see the change in his eyes. “Do you really wanna know, doll? Probably could’ve appeared without killing the spirit box, but like I said, it’s annoying and it hurts my ears. Also killed your buddy’s camera for fun. Left everything else alone.”

Violet stared at his glowing eyes, letting out a little whimper of “demon.”

Calum just nodded at her in response, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Do-do you plan on attaching to any of us?” Matt gulped out.

Calum smiled, shaking his head, “No, this is just more fun than sitting on my couch watching Food Network reruns. May run into you guys sometime later though, just for fun. I’ll let you know if I’m there. ‘Specially you, cutie.”

Rose blushed at the attention of the demon and he smiled, gently fixing a stray strand of her hair before waving goodbye, disappearing into the shadows once more.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later, Calum was hanging around in some small town in the bible belt, chasing down the kid of one of his bosses who had been skipping out on school. She seemed to be choosing to hide in a place where her mom couldn’t follow, but she didn’t seem to realize that that didn’t mean that Calum couldn’t. He hadn’t seen the kid yet, so he was just sitting on a brick wall that allowed one of the little flower gardens to stay level with the patio it was based off of while the sidewalk sloped downward. He kicked his legs back and forth, letting his chucks bounce off the wall as he stared at the clouds rolling by.

His attention was brought back to earth suddenly. He hummed, scanning around when his eyes landed on a familiar person. He smiled as he watched her. Her bright red hair had faded, dark roots showing through. He frowned a little when he noticed that her energy was much different from last he saw her. He didn’t sense anything attached to her though, so he knew it wasn’t from her job. So the next thing he did was the most logical, hopped off the wall and called to her.

Rose jumped, eyes narrowing when she noticed Calum. He frowned at her reaction but continued walking towards her. “Kept my promise, I swear, I’m here on business. Just wanted to say hi, you seem off.” Calum said, holding his hands up as he smiled at her.

“So you don’t have a buddy here keeping tabs on me?” Rose asked. She sounded genuinely curious and it threw Calum off.

“No, is someone following you? You don’t have any attachments. First thing I checked when I saw you and noticed your different energy.”

She scoffed, shaking her head before humming. “No, just being home sweet home can do that to me.”

Calum nodded, eyes now scanning the area for anyone who seemed to be paying them any attention. However it was midmorning in a small town, not too many people had come into town yet. “I’ll get you a coffee and you can talk to me about this guy who’s been following you. Maybe he’s just a human I can scare off.”

Rose was reluctant but nodded, following him into the coffeeshop he’d been sitting outside of. Once they’d ordered and received their breakfast they stepped outside to sit on the patio to eat. They were both quiet for a few minutes, before Calum spoke up. “So being here, brings up some ghosts for you, huh? And even though the kind you’re looking for are present, you’re more worried about the ones from your past?”

Rose swallowed down the lump in her throat that had nothing to do with her breakfast sandwich before nodding. “Yeah, curse of a one stoplight town, huh?” she tried to joke and Calum gave her a sympathetic chuckle, smiling over his coffee cup.

He reached over the table, stilling her fidgeting hand and hummed, concentrating on her energy. “Complicated relationship with mom, and with religion, makes sense, growing up in a town where everyone’s at the same church and they’ve known you since they were changing your diapers. But that’s not all of why your mom and you are having issues…she doesn’t like the ghost hunting does she?”

Rose was just staring at him before she whispered, “Or my hair, or piercings…just everything I’ve done since I turned eighteen in general, why I don’t come back here much.”

He nodded slowly, pulling his hand back, he wasn’t trying to pry. He instead took a long gulp of his coffee. Rose sighed, putting her own coffee down for a moment, “Just…only reason I’m back here is my grandma’s sick, like real sick, so, y’know, in case.” Calum just nodded, squeezing her hand quickly since she’d offered it. Rose sighed as his fingers trailed away, actually meeting Calum’s eyes. “Have a couple months off before we shoot for our next location, though I do have to go back to LA next week, editors noticed that uh, after our encounter with you, all we have on the stationary cam after you drained Matt’s camera battery is a shadowy figure and then snow. So we’ve gotta just do a little explanation of what happened after that, would love to figure out what exactly to say about that if you get the chance.”

Calum sighed, “I didn’t intentionally do that. But when I’m not working, say tomorrow, or something, we can chat about it? I’ll let you know somehow.”

Rose smiled in response and Calum could practically feel her mood lifting throughout their chat. “So, important question,” she started and Calum nodded, having a feeling where she was going, “if you’re a demon, that means that angels are real too.”

Calum smiled and said, “Yeah, some of ‘em are righteous assholes too.” He laughed as he shook his head. “Did get stuck with two for a month quite a few years back and we’ve been friends ever since. Then my best friend has to go and start dating a different one and they’re not too bad either. Do have plans with my buddy Michael this weekend, thanks for reminding me to think about him.”

Rose nodded, humming as she looked around the square, searching for another topic when her eyes landed on someone staring at them. “Don’t be too obvious, but the guy who’s been following me is here.”

Calum just simply grabbed her hand again, closing his eyes and focusing on seeing who she saw. He got an image of a tall man with bleached blonde hair, swept to the side and hidden under a baseball cap, comfy looking white shirt and black pants and he just laughed. “Speak of the angel…” he muttered, turning around in his chair to smile at the figure who he was expecting to still be across the street.

“Fuckin hell man.” Calum said when he practically knocked into his friend as he spun in his chair.

“Kid you’re after saw me and took off down Fifth.” Michael said simply and Calum rolled his eyes.

“Right back then. Don’t talk about anything too important without me.” He winked at Rose and disappeared and Michael took his seat.

Michael looked over awkwardly at Rose, the woman he’d been watching for the past month, on shifts with Luke. “So, see you’ve met my friend.” he started, fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt.

“And you’re not someone he sent to keep an eye on me, nor are you just some creepy human guy following me around.” Rose stated evenly, looking at the blonde.

Michael nodded, “Yeah, Calums not a demon who’s big on attaching to anyone. Your mom was worried about you a month ago and asked for someone to keep an eye on you, and uh, Luke and I got assigned to that…surprisingly Luke is better at being covert than I am.”

Rose hummed, “Guess she was right to be worried. Month ago was my first encounter with our mutual big bad demon.”

Michael bit his lip, nodding slightly. “Look, I love Calum, known him for like maybe fifty years now, he’s got potential to be redeemed if he works towards it, but he’s still a demon, and a powerful one at that. Just…be careful.”

Rose nodded slowly, “I know what I’m dealing with. Think we just happened to run into each other. If it happens again…maybe it’s the universe attaching us, maybe it’s trying to give him that chance you want him to have.” She sighed, shaking her head and grabbing her coffee, “I should probably get going anyway, check on grandma. Nice knowing you’re not a creepy stalker. See you around sometime, yeah?”

Michael laughed softly, nodding before standing and wrapping Rose in a hug. “Stay safe, alright? Think about what I said about Calum.”

Rose thought she could stay in his arms forever, Michael definitely felt safe and she just nodded against his warm chest. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

He smiled and gently ran a hand through her faded hair, giving it back some of its life and color. He released the embrace and watched as she walked off, noticing Luke flying along after her and he hummed, letting the sunbeams fall on his skin while he waited for Calum to come back, mulling over Rose’s statement before she decided to leave.

~~~~~~~~

Calum had had his own talk with Michael after he returned from delivering the young girl back to her mother, disappearing as soon as she dismissed him to go back to the coffeeshop. By that time it was noon and Rose had been long gone, but Michael stayed to give him the whole “you’re great and I love you, but back off this girl” spiel.

There was just something about her though, so Calum left a note in Rose’s mom’s old, single story farmhouse, in the room, Rose grew up in, asking Rose to meet him in the woods that night. If she wanted to, of course. So now he was just sitting on a low tree branch, hanging over the water, hoping she’d show.

Sure enough, there came some soft footfalls in the pine needles behind him and he turned, smiling at Rose. “Dyed your hair again.” he noted and she smiled, shaking her head no.

“Think Michael touched it up, I didn’t do anything.”

He nodded and patted the spot next to him, which she easily took. “So about that new interview. Uh, guess since I didn’t actually show up fully…just kind of say you had made contact with some sort of dark spirit from the portal, it screwed with the equipment, and you three went home and got a cleansing to get rid of it.”

Rose sighed, “But I don’t want to lie about you.”

“Not a whole lie, just the part about the cleansing, right? I promised to leave you guys alone, did that, nothing from there went home with you. Besides, it’s probably better for everyone not to know everything that happened.”

Rose sighed, she knew what Calum had to say was true. “So, other thing, are we going to listen to Michael?”

Calum laughed, feeling the branch shake beneath him as the sound tore through him. “When he talked to me, saying to stay away, he was looking around like ‘just so you can say I did my job.’ But there’s something about you that I don’t think I want to stay away from. Something bigger than you, me, and Michael. Don’t care what happens if you don’t.”

“I’m fine with that.” Rose responded with a smile, leaning closer to Calum and connecting their lips in the gentlest kiss that would be shared by the two that night.

Tags: @irwinkitten @calpops @dammitbands @empathycth @gorgeouslygrace

Ok, so what I’m thinking is doing one more part to this world that was originally just “let’s fuck with Laura” for toxic valentine and having a redemption for our demon boys with the help of Mikey, Luke, Rose, and Angel. Just all the important beings in Calum and Ashton’s lives. That idea hit from my ghost friend and so...we’ll see what happens with that. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Idk, haven’t done author’s notes on shit since high school wattpad days lol. Bye.

#calum hood #calum hood x oc #calum hood 5sos #calum hood 5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #demon!calum #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum x oc #cal #calum hood fluff #calum fluff #is this fluff though?#it's not smut so whatever

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packhuntcr · 5 years

Note

☼ - appearance headcanon

Ahhhhhhh Jakey-boi. My walking contradiction.

Dude simultaneously cannot give a single solitary fuck… and is shockingly vain. Like let’s take a look at this little shit:

Credit to @hollandvalleythotpatrol for the photos. What would I do without Banni? Maybe she’ll write him for me next.

Handsome motherfucker. There’s a lot going on there. Like dude is scarred as fuck, obviously. Chemical burns, rashes [Gulf war syndrome, anyone?], dirty as all get out. Actually, that’s pretty fuckin’ clean for Jacob. I still insist his jeans would stand up on their own. But… lots of evidence Jacob doesn’t care about his appearance. Buuutttttt also a good bit of time invested into it as well. His beard’s trimmed, kept fairly neat. No ZZ-Top knock offs here. I’m 80% sure that’s dirt on his neck, not stubble. The same transfers over to Jacob’s hair. Shaved close, no peachfuzz stubble rising on the sides. Plainly, Jacob kept the military habits up {once he decided to live rather than wait to die}. Speaking of haircuts: Jacob’s pushing those army regulations.

“The hair on the top of the head must be neatly groomed and may not be trendy, spiky, or disheveled in appearance. The hair must be tapered and conform to the shape of the head, and the neckline must be tapered. Hair must not be allowed to fall over the ears or touch the collar (except that the taper at the neckline may extend past the collar).”

My Lieutenant Colonel at Fort Hood brother says he wouldn’t consider Jacob’s hair Army Regulation without a good trim [my brother’s also a hard ass and annoyed by me, so take that with a grain of salt and me hearing what I want to hear]. So Jacob’s gone a little rogue here. Neatly trimmed sides, maintaining the shape, but “too long on top”. Who can blame him? At 47 (presumably) he’s still got a nice, thick head of hair. Not a grey in sight. Buttt… if we look at his beard here:

It’s a bit patchier on this side, thinner where the scarring encroaches on the jaw. So it’s safe to assume that his scarred skin has been damaged to such a point that it doesn’t reliably grow hair. And let’s keep looking at that scarring. It extends up the temple and into the hairline.

This side:

–shows the same thing: scarring into the temple, a patch above the ear that looks to be a graze or more of that chemical burning. If the scars aren’t growing hair consistently, Jacob with a full head of hair is going to be patchy. And not receding hairline patchy, but inconsistent male pattern baldness patchy. Das es no bueno [ignore my bullshit German/Spanish hybrid. I’m tired and have to ramble to get this shit out onto the page]. Jacob’s vain–again once he decides to give a shit and participate in life. {and can you blame the handsome bastard. Even all scarred up he’s a looker] So he’s gonna cover this… or shave it off. But nooo not completely, Remember that full head of thick red hair? So does Jacob. He likes his red hair. He likes that he carries only a passing resemblance to their father. A father that was too uneducated and stubborn to realize that red is just a recessive gene and yes, Jacob is, in fact, Old Mad Seed’s child. But, Jacob enjoyed the fantasy that maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he wasn’t that sadistic old bastard’s git. So he likes the red hair the old man hates and keeps shaved close most of Jacob’s young life. He likes that he doesn’t quite fit in with the family. So he’s keeping the hair, even all these years later. Best of both worlds it is. Long on top where there’s minimal scarring, shaved away on the sides that would be patchy. Work what you got, boy.

Moving on!

Jacob’s god-awful clothes. Jesus. You bet your ass there’s more than one hole ripped in the crotch of those poor jeans. The man’s like a walking stress-tester for denim. I swear to god--I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again-- those jeans are so grime-coated and interwoven with sweat and dirt that Jacob could step out of them and they’d remain upright as if he hadn’t.

They’re ripped to fuck and then neatly patched. And it’ll just keep going. An endless cycle of clothing abuse until that article is so beat to hell and cobbled together that it’s but a ghost of the original. That’s pretty much his habit. Undoubtedly John purchased an abundance of clothes after they brought Jacob home like a puppy. And Jacob still has most of them: neatly folded, tags intact, tucked into a drawer somewhere in Saint Francis for when he needs them. He does this thing where he doesn’t keep more than two or three of each article of clothing. He also just doesn’t wear underwear because it’s a pain in the ass. Just enough clothing for a change, something to wear on the rare occasions he’s actually washing the other set or needs to be cleaned up quickly. As soon as something wears out beyond redemption, he grabs one single solitary replacement to throw into the rotation.

Part of it’s practicality-- using something as long as he possibly can, keeping things ready for a future need somewhere down the road. The man loathes excess and waste. Another part is that apathy that overcame him for years when he’d lost what he saw as his only purpose and the army declared him unfit for service. Meh, Jacob wants only to be clothed and doesn’t much care what in as long as it’s practical. The exception being his BDU jacket. He’s got an attachment to that, to the purpose he held while wearing it and how his service shaped his identity. Everything else? Fuck it. Jacob Seed will wear pink with purple polkadots... as long as it’s functional and blends in with the environment.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that Jacob’s got pretty shit posture, which I find surprising for a military man. The only exception is in two circumstances-

1. He’s on display. Think of him peacocking his way over to stand behind Joseph during the initial arrest. Dude is ramrod straight--also sexually, but we’re not going there today-- shoulders back, chin up, chest pushed out. Why? He’s got purpose. He’s there to protect, to intimidate, to lead his troops. So he’s going to present something worthy of that function, of the leadership.

The instant he’s out of sight? When he’s unwatched? Instant slope shoulders, watching the ground as he walks. Because there’s very little pride in himself, pride in Jacob Seed rather than The Soldier.

Look at him here, in front of the Deputy and Pratt:

Neither one much matters to Jake. Pratt’s a human squeaky toy to the man. The deputy’s a tool. No need to parade. No need to intimidate. Why bother? He doesn’t have to prove he’s above these two. He knows he is. To him, pea-cocking in front of those two would be like showing off for a leaf-blower. So he’s relaxed, shoulders not quite rounded, but certainly no military bearing.

Compared to here:

See the difference? Guess what: he’s working again, giving his ‘Cull the weak’ speech. Fuck, sorry, how far I’m scrolled down on the page is giving me an eyeful of thigh-holster... wow. Thank you, UbiSoft

Alright back on topic.

But Jacob’s working. He’s serving a purpose. His purpose. So he gives enough of a fuck to scrape together his pride and stand upright, project the image that Joseph and the Project need from him. He sure as shit won’t do it for himself.

Exception number 2. While holding a rifle. Which is really just more of the above. Blahblahblah purpose. Buuuttttt... there’s also a good bit of pride in that. Jacob grew up poor in the suburbs. Maybe there was an old family shotgun. Maybe. But, I very much doubt he ever had opportunity to use it [other than plans for Old Mad Seed the next time the bastard hit John]. Same goes for at the slave-labor foster family. If there’d been ready access to and familiarity with a weapon, you bet your ass Jacob would have shot the man rather than hit him with an axe handle. Sure as shit not getting hands on a weapon while in Juvie soooo the first time Jacob handles a firearm is in Basic.

And the kid’s shit with the fine arts. He’s absolutely dyslexic {More detail coming on that in the next HC post} and not inclined toward flowery things. But... he’s got math down. Understands geometry and physics quite easily. So understanding a sight picture is gonna come naturally. He’ll understand how to adjust that picture to compensate for drop, changes in elevation, weather, etc. So he’s already got the bones of a good shot. Pair that with shooting well is likely the first time this kid has heard any kind of praise? He’s gonna throw himself into it.

Every chance he has, Jacob is out there throwing hot lead down the range. For hours at a time, days on end. Surely he has a few favored weapons, but, for the most part, he’s got a handle on anything you throw his way. Natural talent plus dedicated practice and Jacob’s a terrifyingly good shot. An amry Expert Marksman badge good shot. Which means hitting 36-40 stationary and pop-up targets of 40 during qualification testing in supported prone, unsupported prone, and foxhole positions. Jacob got 39. Under pressure. I haven’t played the game (motion sickness can’t handle FPS), but I’m told that he outstrips Grace Armstrong, who was an Olympic medalist, as a GFH in terms of accuracy. Which very well may just come down to years of experience and the ability to practice daily. So the point of that long ramble isssss: he’s proud of himself with a rifle. It’s the only time he’s standing upright even without observation and not directly related to his purpose within the Project.

Everyone’s favorite Sasquatch for demonstration:

So the final thought I have, I’ve already touched on: Jacob’s gangling appearance. I’m just gonna link that here and then just run through the basics

Basically, Jacob is not meant to be a lean man. Look at the size of his hands compared to his forearms. Look that he’s basically a column from shoulder to hip. I mean, he was never going to be a Chris Evans Inverted Dorito, but dude should have a bit of tapering from shoulder to waist. He’s a man who had a good bit of bulk to him in his twenties and early thirties, a man who filled out the frame the genetic lottery threw his way (because John and Joseph don’t have the same shape as Jacob. They’re both built on lithe, tapering lines. It’s redhead, recessive gene, trial run Seed who only shares the blue eyes and a single freckle on the left nostril with John). Jacob is meant to be a big fucking boy. He’s made to carry broad shoulders and a powerful chest, strong arms. But look at him! He’s lanky, his bones are larger than the muscling on them. By the time we see him in Hope County, Jacob’s been out of the military since the mid- to late-nineties. In that time he’s experienced extreme muscle deterioration from damn near starving to death in the desert. Then he’s severely traumatized, obsessed with hoarding away food so he’s not eating what he should to gain back all that muscle lost. And he never will. That obsession with taking just enough, with keeping himself moving, but never indulging in excess. And bulking up requires excess. Maintaining that bulk requires excess. Jacob’s not the ‘I’ll pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today’ type. He’s budgeting for the looming nuclear winter, for increases in population with decreasing resources. So Jacob stays skinny. Fed. Functional. Certainly no wilting flower... but, comparatively, skinny.

Soooo yeah. I’m petering out on the manic HC fest.

All photo credit to one Banni of @hollandvalleythotpatrol You’re a gem and I love you. The gif... I lost the original source. Someone not rushing to go to work can point me toward a source if they’re so inclined or it can wait until I get home and have time.

Next up are HCs on Jacob’s family and hobbies/quirks

#thehearsc #hc #[asks answered #headcanon

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pixiemochi · 6 years

Text

Black Magic 🔮 CH1

❝Jimin’s past comes back to haunt him.❞

Jungkook decided to surprise Jimin with flowers, taking the elevator up to his loft. Once the doors opened he walked in with a smile but stopped in his tracks, blinking in confusion. The witch’s loft was an absolutely mess. Random things he never thought he’d see in an apart were spread out around the place. Boxes of glass bottles sat in the living room area. There was a purple haze clouding the room. And the silver table Jimin had in the dining room was now even longer and held six cauldrons instead of one.

“Jimin hyung?” Jungkook asked, walking further in. He saw Jimin pop up from behind the table, wearing a pair of safety goggles.

“Kookie!” He replied back. “What are you doing here?”

The brunette gazed around Jimin’s loft. “I just thought I’d surprise you… What are you doing?” He asked now.

“Oh, it’s October, I have to prepare.” Jimin backed up a bit a squatted down, tossing something in to the cauldron. Jungkook was confused at first until a small explosion happened once the ingredient Jimin tossed in hit the contents. His eyes widened.

“Prepare for what?” He questioned.

“Well you see, October is the month more paranormal and supernatural activity than usual happens.” Jimin explained.

“More?”

Jimin nodded gazing around at the six cauldrons. He decided it was okay to let them sit and cook so he wiped his hands on his jeans and walked over to Jungkook. “Oh, are those for me?” He asked with a bright smile.

Jungkook blinked before realizing Jimin was talking about the flowers. “Oh yes, here hyung.” He handed over the bouquet of tiger lilies.

Jimin smiled again, taking the flowers “They’re beautiful, Kookie-yah.” He smelled them before walking over to the kitchen and grabbing a vase out of one of the cabinets. He filled it with water and then placed the flowers in them.

Jungkook walked over and sat on one of the stools by the island. “So, what did you mean by more paranormal and supernatural activity?” He asked.

“Well, it isn’t just witches that exist.” Jimin began as he arranged the flowers. He suddenly stopped, blinking a bit before he blushed and took off his safety goggles. The quiet chuckle by Jungkook didn't got unnoticed by him. “Basically, everything Hollywood makes movies about exist. Like werewolves, ghosts, vampires. All real.”

“Wow, really? Seems a bit cliché for them to be out during the month of Halloween, though?”

Jimin giggled. “October was always the month with the highest activity for the paranormal and supernatural. That’s why Halloween is this month. But now society doesn’t know we exist. I make all these potions up to help with that. There is usually always one person or thing that oversteps some kind of boundary and ventures in to the human world to do no good.”

Jungkook nodded. “Wow, not only are you sweet. But look at you protecting us too.” He chuckled.

“Well someone has to take care you guys,” Jimin ruffled Jungkook’s hair, causing the taller man to huff. “But really, I usually always make enough potion to last a couple years. I always hope I never have to use them. But I guess I’ve been slacking and I had no potions at all. And that’s not a risk I’m willing to take, this would end up being the year I needed them when I didn’t have them. Better safe than sorry, you know.”

Jungkook nodded. “Makes sense. Did you ever have to…kill anything before?” He asked.

Jimin bit his lip. “I did once,” He answered. “Magic is never to be used to kill or harm unless in self-defense or as protection for others. Which is why my magic is still considered pure. I had to…I had to kill a wizard.” He began. “I was only thirteen. First year of high school. I had never met another magic being until then. He was nice. But always picked on. People thought he was weird. He wasn’t. He really was a sweet kid. But the bullying became too much. And…things started happening. Being a witch, I could sense he was dabbling in black magic. One day I confronted him about it. I thought I got through to him. But he…he tried to kill another student. Almost did if I didn’t...”

Jungkook reached over and touched Jimin’s hand softly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to finish it hyung.”

“Jungkook, I was only thirteen. I-I killed someone and I never got over the guilt. Even though…even though they told me if was okay. That I did it to protect an innocent. That I saved a life. But it doesn’t make me feel any better that in order to save one life I had to end another.” Jimin’s voice cracked and Jungkook knew he was trying not to cry.

He stood up and walked over to the smaller man, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “That kid made a choice. A bad choice. He was going to do something horrible. You saved someone who did not deserve to die. You did what you had to do. That doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you good. Because you protected someone who needed it.”

Jimin buried his face in to Jungkook’s chest. “Thank you, Kookie…”

“Of course, baby.” Jungkook kissed the top of his hair. “I’m sorry I asked. I should how thought about how it would affect you to tell me.”

Jimin shook his head. “No, it’s alright. I actually feel better. I’ve never told anyone that. Only you know. And my mom.”

“I’m glad you told me. I want to be here to help you with anything that might be hurting you.” Jungkook told him. “I love you.” He smiled at the shorter man.

Jimin titled his head up to look at Jungkook, returning the smile. “I love you too,”

Han Sanghyuk pulled the collar of his black coat up higher to shield himself from the cold as he walked onto the campus of the city’s university. He shoved his hands in to his pockets as his eyes slowly drifted between the bodies of the students that attended the school. It didn’t take long for his eyes to find who he was looking for. Still looking radiant as ever, Park Jimin sat on a bench in the arms of another man.

Sanghyuk’s balled his hands in to fists, watching the exchanged between the two. Jimin may have rejected him a few years ago but that didn’t mean he had giving up pursuing the witch. He had finally tracked him down, only to discover he was with another. But Sanghyuk arrived determined. He would have Jimin one way or another.

More people approached Jimin and the other man, causing the intimacy between them to stop, but it did nothing to extinguish his anger as two more of the men crowded Jimin’s space. He watched them for a moment longer before he turned on his heels and left the campus ground, heading across the street to the woods.

Sanghyuk walked inside relishing in the fact that it became darker and the atmosphere was eerie. He stopped when he reached the middle, staring at a tree. A figure soon stepped from behind it.

“Sanghyuk, to what do I owe the pleasure?” The man asked, smiling at the other before him, pearly white fangs on display.

“I need a favor, Jihun,” Sanghyuk said.

“Anything for my favorite warlock,” Jihun replied, sarcastically. “As long as I get to kill something.”

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes. “You do,” He assured. “I have a few humans I need to get out of my hair. There is one in particular that I would like you to take care of.”

Jihun smirked. “I’d be glad to,”

Sanghyuk nodded. “I’ll see you in three days’ time with more information.” He told the vampire. Jihun nodded before disappearing. He warlock raised an arm, moving it in a circular motion until a large glowing circle appeared. He stepped it and it closed behind him, any trance of him in the woods vanishing.

Jimin laughed at some weird dance Hoseok was doing, enjoying the time he was having with his friends. His laugh died down however when he felt a strong presence behind him. He turned his body a bit but didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary at the entrance of the campus. But the strong presence didn’t go away. In fact, it got stronger. Jimin instantly knew exactly what it was. Black magic.

He stared at the woods. That’s where the source was coming from. Jimin bit his lip but looked away when he felt a hand on his arm. Jungkook looked at his boyfriend with soft, concerned eyes.

“Are you okay, hyung?” He asked.

Jimin nodded before standing up. “Hey you guys, I gotta go.” He grabbed his messenger bag and kissed Jungkook on the lips before hurrying towards the entrance of campus. Everyone watched him go, confusion all over their faces.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asked. “Jungkook, what did you do?” He accused the younger.

Jungkook frowned. “I didn’t do anything.” He replied, grabbing his own backpack and shrugging it on. “I’m gonna catch up to him and see what’s up. I’ll text you guys and let you know.” He said goodbye and hurried after Jimin. He was out of sight until he caught a glimpse of pink heading in to the woods.

He ran across the street, hoping to catch up to the witch before he completely lost track of him. He stepped in, taking out his phone and turning on the flash light. He could see Jimin’s silhouette up ahead.

“Jimin!” He called. The pink haired man stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” He asked as the younger caught up to him.

“I’m gonna ask you the same thing.” Jungkook replied.

Jimin sighed and took his hand. “Stay close to me.” He commanded. “I can feel black magic in here.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “So, you came to just investigate by yourself?”

The witch rolled his eyes. “Yes, because I can fight back, Kook.” He slowly walked ahead, observing the area around them and keeping highly alert. He wished he hand his wand with him. But his own magic would have to do if they needed it.

They headed farther in to the woods and suddenly Jimin wasn’t so sure of his idea anymore. Especially since he felt another presence now. His grip tightened on Jungkook’s hand. The taller man looked down at Jimin about to ask him something with Jimin stopped in his tracks.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” He asked.

“It’s gone,” Jimin answered.

“What is?”

“The presence of black magic. It’s gone.”

“Oh,” Was all Jungkook could say. “Then we can go? Because it’s hella creepy in here.”

Jimin stared in to the darkness for a moment longer, trying to finger out what was happening. But then he nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He turned around and him and Jungkook head back the way they came, walking towards the sunlight they saw through the trees.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of red eyes followed after them, stopping just at the edge of the darkness, but kept watching their ever movement. A low growl echoed through the woods until the red eyes disappeared.

Jimin was frozen in his tracks the moment they stepped out from the trees. He looked back at the woods, hearing a growl practically vibrate through the air and his body. That was when he realized this October was going to be anything be fun.

Hello welcome to the third installment of Accidentally Something Magical. This story is seven chapters long and will involve all kinds of supernatural and mythical creatures, plus Jimin and the others kicking ass! Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter.

#jikook au #jikook fanfic

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wavesofinkdrops · 6 years

Text

A Very Commie Christmas

A/N: Pure fluff. Alfred has Seen Too Many Things(TM). And fluff again. Enjoy.

Notes: vesnushki = freckles in russian. @derevosky wonderful idea for a cute nickname, thank you for letting me use it and give it the acknowledgement it deserves! Merry Christmas to all!

“Alfred.”

“A minute!”

“I thought you wanted this to be “quick and painless”?” Ivan shot up the stairs.

There was a soft curse before Alfred appeared at the top of the stairs, wrapped in probably all the winter clothing he had packed - a scarf, a long and thick coat (Ivan knew he was wearing at least two shirts and a jumper underneath), jeans (and probably tights under, but Ivan doubted Alfred would admit to them), his favourite and only pair of earmuffs and the mittens Ivan had bought him the year before. “Yeah, but I couldn’t find my scarf. And it’s friggin’ freezing. Arthur always rearranges my stuff when I unpack, blame him.” He fumbled through his coat pockets, the mittens making his movements clumsier than usual.

Ivan reached over to dig through Alfred’s pockets, found his key and unlocked the door.

Alfred huffed, already miffed at the cold weather. “Let’s go,” he said, before stepping out. Ivan caught the umbrella from the doorway, knowing that they’d been promised rain or hail or snow - or a combination of all. They hurried their way to the metro station under the grey sky (Alfred wanted to sprint, Ivan was leisurely walking behind him), and from there went to the city centre.

After Ivan managed to convince Alfred to leave the warmth of the Underground, because we have business to tend to, Alfred, they came out into the cold London winter - and rain. Actually, it wasn’t even proper rain - it was an annoying wet mixture of snow and rain. Ivan managed to get the umbrella over them before Alfred could begin moaning. Ivan would never understand how despite Alfred having areas in the north (not mentioning Alaska, where Alfred was known to usually spend a week in during winter), the man would whine at the first hint of cold weather - be it in Russia or Britain or anywhere.

Brompton Road was hellishly busy, and the more they navigated through the crowd of bustling people, the more the both of them dreaded their day’s plan. They’d only arrived in London the day before for Arthur’s annual Christmas party (dubbed by Alfred and Matthew as their “ex-Empire dad’s yearly where-have-my-colonies-gone gathering”), and now had to go Christmas shopping. Neither had had the foresight to do it in their respective countries, and now were forced to settle for the Sunday rush of Christmas shoppers in Harrods.

Alfred had began going on and on, most likely about things they needed to buy - although when Ivan listened closer, after distinguishing the sentence, “Matthew’s a complete dick with his whole Bombardier deal, he keeps bitching about the tariffs he brought onto himself!” he really had no idea what Alfred was speaking of.

It wasn’t long before they arrived to the grand and lavish department store Harrods, and Ivan felt an immediate sense of being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people and light and things there were. Alfred was already halfway through taking off nearly every layer of warm clothing he had on himself, having removed his coat, his jumper, his gloves, his earmuffs and his scarf.

“Okay, we’re here. Where do we start?” Alfred asked, and Ivan dug into his pocket for the list Alfred had made of presents and things they needed to find. Ivan handed the list to Alfred, who began reading off it and explaining where they’d find things. At one point, he paused. “I’ve been here too many times if I can list off every floor this easily. C’mon, let’s go, let’s start from the top and go down from there.”

Of course, it was a journey in itself, navigating the ground floor between the different islands of makeup and beauty products, Ivan somewhat astonished at the sheer number of different shades of lipstick and blush that were there - there was no way that many colours could even exist. (Once he saw the first hint of blue lipstick, however, he gave up trying to understand people’s tastes - if that colour had been produced and marketed, it had to sell.)

“Ivan, come on!” Alfred ushered, trying not to go too fast for fear of losing Ivan - though losing a six-foot-too-many-inches-tall Russian guy in the middle of a sea of Brits wasn’t too easy a task. They reached the elevators, by which point Ivan seemed somewhat out of breath already.

“Is this all really necessary?” he asked Alfred in the over-crowded lift.

“What do you mean?” Alfred’s eyebrows had that small confused arch that was so very characteristic of him. “What’s necessary?” Ivan shrugged. “Merely that this all seems… rather excessive.”

Alfred paused. “Uhm… sure? I don’t know, seems normal to me. It’s a bit busy here today, that’s all.”

“I meant the amount of… things here. Products. How many shades of lipstick do they need?”

Alfred laughed. “The people who come here are usually pretty stinkin’ rich, and British. They need seven shades a day, and another one for special occasions.”

Ivan smiled, and they rode the elevator in silence to the fifth floor. Alfred deemed Matthew in need of some new sportswear, and Ivan was finally told the relationship between Matthew’s Christmas present and the US tariffs on Canada.

“Matthew’s bitchy over the stupid planes or whatever, so I’ll bet it’s because he broke his favourite hockey stick or something,” Alfred explained.

Though they didn’t get a hockey stick, they managed to find a nice hoodie for Matthew - even though Alfred claimed Matthew already had too many, but he’d been once told by the Canadian: “What does too many hoodies mean? That sentence doesn’t exist.”

“Ok, now we can skip the fourth and go straight to the third floor - that’s where all the cool stuff is. Trust me, Britain doesn’t get much cooler than the toy kingdom or the tech section here,” Alfred told Ivan, before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the escalators.

The thing was, it wasn’t just any escalators in any random department store - this was Harrods. Alfred said it was called the ‘Egyptian room,’ but Ivan was confused as to what part exactly he was supposed to look at. When he focused, he could make out the Ancient Egypt-like diagrams, patterns and hieroglyphs on the beige “stone” walls, but it was rather confusing - the colourful artwork was crowded by Christmas lighting, white frivolous decorations serving as support for bright yellows, blues, reds, purples and greens. It was colours galore, and having never been to Harrods before, the extravagance of it was rather off-putting. Combined with the crowd of upper-class Englishmen and women, the overall effect it had on Ivan was… perhaps not the best he could have had.

Alfred went on about their next steps. “First we’ll stop at Toy Kingdom, because there’s always the coolest things ever there, and also I’m pretty Jett and James want something from there - oh, and Peter too, and then we’ll walk around the furniture place if we can find something nice… Even if Arthur probably just wants tea, he also really needs a new couch-”

“You are not buying him a new couch, are you?”

Alfred laughed. “No, but I might just buy him a new carpet or small table or pillows that doesn’t match his couch and Francis will force him to change it. Francis hates that couch more than I do.”

They got off the escalator, and Alfred steered them to the furniture section. There were more couches, more tables, more random decorations than Ivan cared to count - and the place seemed to continue for multiple hallways. Alfred continued speaking, happily drifting through the different displays and pointing out things that caught his attention (granted, many things managed to catch his attention).

“Oh, and Francis is coming too, I forgot - I guess we gotta get him something too, seeing as he’s, like, a second dad to me or something, so d’you think he’d like incense? Or maybe some cologne. Although he probably has loads of those. Or a new tie, which is a classic - oh, hey! He had that new fancy suit, I’ll bet he wants a new tie, wasn’t it a kinda blue-kinda-grey shade? I think he’d like a nice tie with that - how ridiculous ties d’you reckon we can find?”

A rather nice coffee table caught Ivan’s attention, but when he turned the tag to show its price, his eyebrows shot up. “Isn’t this place somewhat… expensive?”

Alfred turned to him. “Well, yeah. That’s the point. It’s the most famous department store in this entire country - okay, actually, in probably the entire world? Also the stuff they have here is like prime quality,” Alfred explained.

Ivan looked at the price tag again with an almost - could Alfred call it disdainful? - look on his face. There was a very distinct pause in Alfred’s mind, and a few select memories of his decided to appear right then and there.

He knew that look, and if it was anything to go by, he would be haunted by a ghost and today would not be enjoyable.

No, that was irrational. He was overthinking it.

However, as predicted, the trip didn’t turn out much better than it had started.

It didn’t matter whether it was in the toy section, where Alfred showed Ivan the cool robots and other toys that were there, or whether it was in the tech section, or in the artwork section, or the menswear, but everywhere they went Ivan threw around certain questions that made Alfred doubt the entirety of his life for the past twenty or so years.

“Have you looked at this price?”

“I could have a suit tailor-made at home and it would cost a quarter of this.”

He could swear he heard Ivan mutter, “Bourgeoisie,” with an exasperated look on his face, at one point. Alfred had half a mind to tell him to let the rich people be.

The look of amusement, confusion and (dare Alfred say it?) derision at the number of people, the number and variety of products, and especially at their prices never left Ivan’s face.

Ivan was, as far as Alfred was aware, still a goddamn capitalist country, yet he had to make a scene about the place the likes of which Alfred hadn’t seen Ivan pull before. And he was not appreciating the flashbacks he was getting.

And the moment Ivan scoffed at the price of a golden bluetooth speaker in the shape of a bulldog with sunglasses, Alfred decided he was glad they were in Europe and that he was legally allowed to drink, based on his ID. He felt in need of a strong Guinness right then and there. Ivan turned to Alfred, and his face turned to outright confusion.

“Alfred, are you alright?”

Alfred blinked. “What?”

“You look rather pallid,” Ivan stated, and Alfred tried to squash the memories of a certain communist scoffing at the “decadent capitalist society” from popping up again.

“I’m fine,” Alfred huffed. He did a quick mental checklist, and upon realising that they had everything they needed and came here for, he announced, “We’re going to a pub.” Alfred had seen enough capitalism for one day.

It was a small problem to get their coats and scarves and other winter clothing back on before going outside, but they managed it. Alfred had been silent pretty much the entire time after leaving the building, with a look as if he’d seen a ghost (which Ivan recognised easily from their horror movie evenings).

As they made their way out and through the streets, the fresh air seemed to help Alfred recover somewhat. “Arthur told me about this place down a few streets that’s pretty good or well-known,” Alfred explained as they drew away from the busy Brompton Road. “It has this really English name too, something like Lion’s Mane or Head or something.”

They turned another corner, and arrived in front of the place.

Warm air wafted onto and around them when Alfred opened the door, bustling in with his shopping bags and all. Ivan followed him, until Alfred paused and huffed. “It’s completely packed. Let’s try that other place along the way.”

It turned out that, in the end, every single pub managed to be completely overloaded, and they resigned themselves to returning to Arthur’s home.

When they walked in, the house was still empty - Matthew hadn’t landed yet, and Arthur (and by extension, Francis) were probably still at Downing Street - Francis had decided to tag along solely to “irritate” Arthur (Arthur claimed that was Francis’ aim, despite everyone knowing that was a blatant lie, but no one deemed it necessary to call him out on it).

After having shed every single additional layer of clothing and dropping off their bags in their respective - separate - rooms (Arthur had made precise and careful arrangements - ‘no international scandals under my bleeding roof’, to which Francis had choked on his wine while stifling a laugh), they went back downstairs and Alfred promptly beelined for and crashed on the couch, Ivan following suit.

“Boy, was that an experience,” Alfred sighed.

Ivan readjusted himself, and so did Alfred. He was now fit snugly under Ivan’s arm and against his chest, his body sprawled along the couch’s length and his legs hanging over the armrest, while Ivan sat at the other end.

“What do you mean?” Ivan asked. “That was not so horrible as I imagined, just somewhat excessive for my tastes.”

“Somewhat?” Alfred craned his neck to look Ivan in the eyes with disbelief. “Dude, I literally saw a ghost walking right up alongside me in there!”

“A ghost?” Ivan’s voice was laced with amusement, the same kind a parent would use at a child’s fantastic adventure stories.

“Hi, yeah, throwback Thursday to the Soviet Union - dude, you’re a capitalist now, you’re supposed to live in places like these!”

Ivan laughed. “I do not think that’s quite how everyone else perceives capitalism.”

“Whatever, man, that was a scare you gave me right there.” Alfred paused. “A red scare, actually.”

He felt Ivan momentarily stop moving, barely breathing. Then there was a shift, and Alfred was shoved off of Ivan and left to drop back onto the couch.

“That was terrible, Alfred,” Ivan huffed, but there was a clear hint of a smile on his lips as he went to the small, old chest in the corner of the room, where Arthur kept all his blankets folded up neatly.

“That was a great pun! And you totally deserved that!” For that, he earned a blanket to his face, and Ivan then came back to the couch.

“I ‘totally’ did not,” he countered as he began poking Alfred to shift aside to let him fit. Alfred refused to sit up, so Ivan settled instead for lying next to Alfred on the couch. It was rather a tight fit, what with two grown men on a normal-sized couch, but neither seemed to care.

“Totally did, for scaring me like that. I don’t like ghosts.” Alfred yawned, and Ivan flicked his nose gently.

“We all know that, vesnushki,” Ivan said, laughing softly at Alfred look of affrontment.

“Whatever. I’m dead tired right now, so maybe we can just chill here for a bit until they come back or til Mattie arrives,” Alfred suggested. “You’re real warm and comfy and this is nice,” he continued, melding his body next to Ivan’s and nuzzling into his chest. The blanket managed to mostly cover them both, especially when Alfred tangled his legs with Ivan’s and hugged him closer.

“That is a very attractive idea.” Ivan began stroking Alfred’s hair, before removing Alfred’s glasses, reaching behind and placing them on the coffee table. Alfred let out an appreciative hum, and he sighed in content.

There was a moment of silence. Alfred interrupted it. “I hate this couch.”

Ivan chuckled, before petting Alfred’s hair. “Shush. I thought you wanted to take a nap.”

“Well I didn’t say that, but now you mention it that sounds great.”

“OI, ALFRED!”

“Sometimes I do wonder how you are not already deaf, with the amount if yelling you do,” Francis sniffed, brushing snow off his coat before hanging it into the hallway.

“He was supposed to get the ham, and I want to make sure that I didn’t buy this ham,” Arthur said, lifting the bag in his hand, “for nothing. He would be forgetful enough to not do what I specifically asked him to.”

They heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and in came Matthew.

“Oh, Matthew, you’re he-”

“Matthieu, mon fils!” Francis interjected, giving him the customary French cheek kisses.

“Yeah, arrived an hour or so ago.”

Francis turned to Arthur. “Alfred must still be out with Ivan-”

“Oh no,” Matthew smiled, a cheeky and devious grin that both Europeans knew bode nothing good. It was the same smile Alfred had worn before his Easter prank (also known as the reason why rabbits and screwdrivers - both tool and drink - were no longer allowed at meetings). “He’s here all right. Both are.”

“That lad needs to learn how to respond-”

“Don’t think he heard you,” Matthew stated.

“I think Paris heard him,” Francis said with a confused tone.

“He’s sleeping on your couch - well, more like on Ivan on your couch. It’s sweet. I have a lot of blackmail and prank material now.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and stomped to the living room. Sure enough, Alfred had mostly climbed on top of Ivan, huddled under the blanket. Ivan’s arms were holding Alfred tight, one hand around his body and the other in his hair.

Arthur leaned on the couch armchair. “MR. JONES AND MR. BRAGINSKY!”

Alfred jerked up, simultaneously somehow managing to shove Ivan off the couch. And seeing as he had been on Ivan, he ended up on the floor too. There was a panicked screech and a groan, before Alfred stumbled up from the floor.

He turned around, and seeing Ivan rubbing his back where he’d landed with Alfred on him, Alfred offered his hand to help him up. He only then seemed to realise he’d been woken up, and turned to see Arthur’s deadpan expression.

“Did you get the ham?” Arthur asked.

Alfred blanched. “I… uh - I mean, I meant to?”

Matthew was laughing in the background, while Arthur rolled his eyes. “Thank God I knew I could trust you to be that forgetful,” he muttered, before going to the kitchen.

“It’s Ivan’s fault! He scared me with his whole the-Soviet-Union’s-back act!”

“Al, please, that’s sad even from you.”

“I was scared!”

“Well I can believe that, seeing as you needed your Russian bear to comfort you, eh?” Matthew asked, pulling up a photo on his phone and showing it to Alfred.

“That’s - no - what is that-”

“It is a picture of you and me, sleeping on the couch,” Ivan explained. “Have I told you you look adorable when you sleep?”

“Let them be, Matthieu,” Francis interjected before Alfred could begin sputtering. He swung an arm around Matthew and directing him away from the other two. “L’amour is sweet, and should be allowed to have its course. That includes naps,” Francis concluded.

And as Alfred whirled around to huff at Ivan, Ivan simply wrapped his arms and himself around Alfred, and pulled them both back onto the couch.

Ivan sighed contentedly as Alfred wriggled around. “Shush, now, it is Christmas and the both of us should just enjoy the peace and quiet-”

“Francis get your bloody hands off that!”

“- of the holidays.” He felt Alfred snicker in his arms, and he smiled.

“You’re a big sap, you know?”

“Only for you, vesnushki,” Ivan smiled and kissed Alfred’s hair, and felt him burrow deeper into his arms. It was set to be a wonderful and lovely Christmas.

#rusame #christmas #holiday fic #fluff #pure fluff #aph russia #aph america #my writing #aph canada #aph england #aph france #december dragon this is all your fault

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meliecho · 6 years

Text

Hearts and Heroes: One Shot - Chpt 4 - The Nightmare’s Truth

Summary: The team figures out exactly why this nightmare is different, and realize with dread that they only have one shot to save Sun.

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

The Glen...

The glow of the bulb disappeared into the wide hollow opening of a broad multistory building, igniting the interior for a second before its bearer carried it out of sight.

Sections of pixelating squares fluctuated into view to their left and right as the group hurried to catch up. They were appearing more and more often.

A sharp, quick scream jolted them from continuing forward. A large cluster of squares danced around an object within its center. A single small hand reached out in desperation.

“Hey!” Blue stopped. “Someone's in there!” She rushed through the black clovers and skid to a halt close to the squares.

“Blue, she's getting away!” Red argued. “Dammit,” he cursed. He and the others followed.

“Help!” a high pitched voice resonated from within. The sound carried its own distortion. A girl covered in blue feathers with matching eyes blinked up at them.

“She's not a Terrorling,” Mark said. “She's must be part of this world.” He leaned forward for a closer look, and his eyes widened. “She must be an ego of sun's.”

“This is an ego? I didn't know they existed outside the hub.” They'd never met any outside of the Markihub that they could recall.

“Some of them do,” he explained. “Mostly what we encounter are NPC elements of the dreams, or Terrorlings. Egos like to live in stable places.”

“This nightmare is anything but stable,” Purple noted.

“Why would one be in a dream? Those don't last long enough,” Red wondered aloud.

Mark stayed silent. He remembered what Tiny Box Tim said about the mission briefing file, but voicing it would only worry his team. Besides, he was 70% sure it was a typo—a drop from his 100% shoulder-brush confidence back at the hub.

“If this is part of Sun, we gotta help her.” Blue examined the anomaly, then extended her hammer. “Grab on. We'll pull you out.”

The little girl gripped the handle tightly.

Blue pulled hard on her weapon. She felt Jade's arms wrap around her waist to add strength. The girl refused to budge. Her tiny hands began to slip.

Mark took hold of the handle close to Blue's hands and pulled. It took the efforts of all three until finally the child slipped free of the squares. The three of them fell backwards.

She curled up on the ground, crying in pain. Lacerations criss-crossed all over her body, and her feathers were shredded. Yet her clothes weren't stained with blood. “My...brother...” she muttered. “He was...with me. Is he ok?” She tried to get her knees, but collapsed.

Peach's face fell in sadness and she knelt to rest her hand on the girl's head. “You were the only one in those squares. If he was in there... I'm...I'm sorry.”

The girl's eyes shimmered with tears. “No...No, he tried to save me,” she sniffled and gripped the hem of Blue's dress in her fist. “Brother,” her voice gave in to a weak sob.

Blue leaned over to hug her. This was her world, and her family. Whatever happened here affected her as strongly as events in the real world impacted them. Even though she was an ego, she and all the others here –if there were any others—took on forms to fit this dream. Whatever the case, the pain of losing her brother to that area of corruption was real.

Red gently scooped her up into his arms. “We can't leave her here,” he glance down to her. She barely weight more than a toddler. “What's your name?”

“Alula.”

Blue stood. “Let's follow where Sun went. Maybe we'll find a safe place for Alula to rest.”

The group moved quickly through the firefly-speckled field to the building. However, their way in was guarded by a robot a full story tall, and the width of a bus.

Its deep bass voice reverberated through the ground. “[GREETINGS PERSONS. SIGN IN IF YOU WISH TO PASS TO THE REFUGE.]”

“Would love to,” Mark shrugged. “Do you have a pen?”

“[I LOANED MINE TO THE BRINGER OF THE SUN. THEY WERE IN A HURRY AND DID NOT RETURN IT. PERHAPS YOU CAN FIND ANOTHER PEN.”]

“Here,” the girl painfully fished an item out of her coat pocket and handed it over. It emitted a soft yellow glow. “It's a feather. It's for the one who'll return our sun,” her breath hitched. “I had to go home to get it. My brother and I were trying to find her when those squares showed up. If you're her friends, then please give it to her. The sacred book says she'll need it.” It nearly slipped from her fingers as she curled up in a small squeak.

Mark caught it before it could hit the ground. He dabbed the tip of it on his finger, leaving behind a drop of black ink. Quickly, he scribbled down all of their names before the ink ran out, and added the item to his inventory.

The gargantuan guard robot's eyes scanned the page, then moved aside. “[YOU MAY PROCEED. THANK YOU.]”

“Take this,” Purple offered a full heart to the girl. It absorbed into her body and spread out beneath her skin in a brief red glow. The lacerations began to heal.

“Can you watch her until she's better?” Blue craned her neck upward at the robot.

“[IT IS NOT IN MY PROGRAMMING, BUT I WILL GUARD HER. SHE IS NOT AUTHORIZED TO ENTER.]”

Red laid her gently on the soft moss.

“Good...luck.” Alula waved lightly. She watched them give her sympathetic looks before they entered the dark building. Alone at the foot of the giant robot, she cried. The moss absorbed her tears.

A somber sense tailed the group through the dim halls barely lit by patches of green phosphor harvested from the trees. Purple's magic returned enough for her to safely create the white ball of light atop her staff again, and regained her position at the front. They all kept their eyes and ears pealed for sounds of Terrorling attacks.

They went up multiple flights of stairs and zig-zagged through corridors. Jade opened a door to the left and they stepped out onto a railing-less veranda overlooking the Glen—because that's safe engineering. A red haze dyed the horizon in a sinister airbrushed filter between black spires dotted with crimson lights. That was the Refuge—the city.

In the center of it, reaching so high up into the solid black they couldn't see the top, soared a windowless obelisk. It sliced through the haze like a knife. Only its silver base reflected the red glow of the city.

“The tower,” Blue's voice lowered. “That's where she's going.”

“Whoa, man. That thing is huge,” Jade's jaw dropped.

“That's what she said,” Mark folded his arms.

“Heheh, Nice,” Jade high fived his friend.

Red smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Everything.”

“Guys, come on,” Peach interrupted.

“Whelp, it's a pretty view, but we've got an objective to complete,” Mark gestured toward his shorter friend, “Lead the way, Purple.”

With her as their headlight, the group rushed through the corridors.

The crackling of static cut through the air. They spun at once. Directly behind them formed enough black squares to completely block the hall.

“Run!” Blue cried out.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, whoa. These don't chase you,” Mark calmed her down. “I remember this. They're stationary.”

Another one formed a foot ahead of it, forcing them to step back. Followed by another.

“But they can multiply,” Blue's hair would have stood on end. “Again...Run!”

Cluster after cluster of glitch squares materialized in their wake, each producing a static jolt that speared its energy through them. They ran as fast as they could up a long flight of stairs, turned a sharp corner, and sprinted down the hall.

“They're right on our asses!” Mark yelled. “Go! Go!”

A thread-thin rectangular outline of red light bled in through a door frame at the end of the extremely long corridor. Thankfully, it was unlocked. They barged through it and slammed the door shut behind them. The whole group took a few steps back as the door became overcome by squares. Everything beyond that door had succumbed to the destruction of this world.

“That,” Peach panted, leaning on her staff to catch her breath, “was too close. Way too close.”

Blue looked to the door. “I guess we can't go back that way.”

“Good thing we're not,” Red said.

Without the sun, the only light source stretching through the city came from the bright red water filling the canals far beneath them.

Their shoes clinked on the grating of the metal open-air skywalk. It wasn't very wide, maybe enough to hold two people side by side at best.

The walkways were void of life. “Where is everyone?” Purple's nervousness shown through. “It's like a ghost town.”

Red phosphor lamps flickered in the windows—and indication of life—but they didn't pass the foot traffic expected of in a city. Sun's hero mark didn't glow brightly, so there was only so much her mind could create.

“This is a dream,” Mark began. “I wouldn't expect it to be a thriving metropolis with a coffee house on every corner.”

They passed by a few robots that ignored them to continue their tasks.

And the end of a walk in front of a close door, sat a robot splayed out on the ground completely surrounded by the particle squares. Its arms and legs phased in and out of view. “[P#L.EAS;E DO N//T APPR#ACH.]”

“It's completely glitched out,” Peach frowned. Whatever happened to Alula was happening to this robot. Thankfully, it was a machine without the ability to sense the pain of being erased.

There was no way to save it. They had to call it a loss. Regretfully, the group turned back and took another route.

“Down there!” Jade pointed to the walkways several stories below them at a shadowy figure running with the light bulb. “I see her! She's heading for that building!”

“How the hell did she get so far ahead?” Red looked over.

“She's not alone,” Blue leaned over the railing and watched a cluster of macabre creatures lurching after her. “Terrorlings,” she cursed the word. “We need a way down. I remember there being an elevator in the game around here somewhere.”

“You mean the one that didn't work until you made a button out of a coffee can and fridge magnets?” Peach said.

“That's the one. This is a dream, so we might get lucky.”

The crew wove along the catwalks, turning back when they encountered squares or parts of the walks that had broken off as if deleted. They reached the elevator shaft within minutes.

A boy in a gray flat cap bounced on the balls of his feet. “Come on, come on,” he mumbled. Tufts of black hair stuck out from beneath the hat.

“Hey kid,” Mark got the others attention. “Did you see a girl with a light bulb come through here?”

“Yeah,” he said in a gruff, irritated tone. He had to be about 12 years old. “The doors closed just as I got here. Now I have to wait for it to come back. Stupid idiot wouldn't even hold the door.”

Red rapidly pressed the button with impatience.

“That doesn't work, you know,” Jade folded their arms.

“Your face doesn't work, you know,” He shot back.

“That didn't even make sense.”

“I do that, too, with crosswalk lights,” Purple offered. “It doesn't help, but it's cathartic.”

A few minutes later, the door opened and everyone shuffled inside. The doors closed smoothly, and the elevator descended at an easy pace.

The light acoustic guitar and xylophone muzak filled the car with its tinny AM radio sound from two small speakers in the ceiling in a complete dichotomy to their pressing situation. Apparently, the engineer had never heard of bass boost.

Everyone tensed in the uncomfortable, awkward silence. They could fight together, be in a boat on the ocean together, and hang out in the hub before missions together, and yet the power of an elevator and muzak was enough to invoke the curse of the cramped, inescapable box of discomfort. They all fidgeted.

“Kind of a long ride to the surface, huh,” Purple softly broke the thick atmosphere.

Mark silenced her quickly holding up his index finger in front of her face. “Not a peep! Markiplier demands silence!”

Blue chuckled. She remembered that part of his play-through. Every time Niko got in the elevator, Mark shouted, 'Not a word out of you, Niko. Your God demands silence!'

Peach, Purple, and Red got the reference and joined in, however Jade hadn't watched that series and looked completely lost. “What the fuck, Mark?”

The kid stared wide-eyed at Mark.

“It's a joke,” Blue nudged Jade in the shoulder. “Don't worry about it.

“So, uh--” Peach spoke up. “This voice Sun said she hears. That should be the player, but this is a dream. Maybe it's the Entity? The one that helped the player, but it's talking to her because there is no player?”

“What are you guys talking about?” The kid demanded.

“Uh,” Blue smiled too wide and waved her hand in the air. “Nothing, it's nothing.” She whispered sidelong to Peach. “Ixnay on the eemdray in front of the idkay.”

Mark leaned in with one hand cupped around his mouth. “Best not to start ripping interdimentional holes in the mind of a child.”

“Hm,” The kid harrumped. “You guys are weird.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” his answer slid in like butter.

No one spoke for the rest of the elevator ride.

The doors slid open on the surface, and they stepped out onto the pavement. Canals of water imbued with glowing red phosphor flowed lazily to either side of walking path. Buildings and pathways created a maze of metal and concrete, like the city was built on a massive lake. Just like with the upper levels, the lack of foot traffic worried them, as did the presence of multiple clusters of squares.

“Well, that was awkward. See ya,” the kid rushed away from the group of strange strangers as fast as he could.

“I guess he was another aspect of Sun,” Peach guessed.

“That voice—the Entity—can't be a Somni,” Red surmised, picking up the original conversation, “which means it's a Terrorling taking on that form. Like how Dark took on yours,” he looked to Mark, who frowned at that memory.

His jaw locked around his realization. “Then it's a part of herself. And it's powerful.”

Blue glanced back to her team. “She might not even know what'll happen if she puts that bulb back.”

“Or maybe she does,” Peach's tone turned melancholy.

“That's the building!” Jade broke into a run down an adjacent metal industrial-style foot bridge across a canal and jumped the short set of steps. They readied their blades for a fight with the group of Terrorlings. If they were gathered out here waiting, that meant Sun was still inside.

Compared to earlier, it was a group of six Shadowlings and Proxies that the team took out with minimal damage, and only one person becoming confused. Purple used her powers on Red to remove the curse. Only a robot remained, shuffling back and forth in place as though it didn't even notice the battle.

Everyone entered the building except for Mark, who lingered just long enough to ask the robot a quick question. He rejoined the group before they'd realized he was gone.

It was a typical library – books stacks up to the ceiling on rows and rows of shelves set on half levels reachable by steps. Beanbag chairs and tables dotted the area for anyone to flop into to enjoy their read. Tall, slim windows to either side let the crimson glow of the city bleed inside to cast everything in its watercolor hue. The smell of book-binding glue and age permeated the air.

At the top of the third half-level, set patiently behind a wide U-shaped desk, sat a robot wearing a pair of thick framed glasses. A wide stairwell disappeared into the darkness of the upper floor behind it. The robot stared straight at the newcomers.

“[GREEINGS. HOW MAY I ASSIST YOU?]” it said in a programmed nasally voice, clearly enabling a nerd stereotype.

“We're looking for someone carrying a light—“ Blue stopped herself, “the sun. Have you seen her?”

“[AFFIRMATIVE. THE HEAD LIBRARIAN IS SPEAKING TO THEM NOW.]”

“Thanks,” Blue lead her team around the desk, only to be halted by the robot's command.

“[STOP. YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO GO INTO THE ARCHIVES WITHOUT A LIBRARY CARD.]”

“Can't you let us through?” Peach asked.

“[I CANNOT GO AGAINST MY PROGRAMMING. I HAVE NOT BEEN TAMED. PRESENT A LIBRARY CARD FOR ACCESS TO THE ARCHIVES.]”

“But you let Sun go ahead!” Jade argued.

“[THE HEAD LIBRARIAN WAS HERE AT THE TIME AND ALLOWED IT.]”

“Son of a—We don't have time for this.” Red pushed through and reached for his sword.

Mark clasped his hand over his to stop him. “Slow your roll, Red. We have no idea how volatile the NPCs in her dream could be trying to protect her.”

“So what do you expect us to do? Just wait out here for her to come back?”

“Yup,” Mark answered in confidence. “Her goal is the tower. We'll cut her off here.”

Red scowled, but uncurled his fist.

The 'check-out' manifests on the robot's desk caught Mark's attention—or rather, the series of dates printed on each one. Either Sun's mind had an amazing ability for detail to add specific time periods to inconsequential items, or else these were actual dates she didn't have control over. He'd never seen that phenomenon before. Too many details in this nightmare weren't matching the criteria of a typical rescue. Sun seemed more like everyone else here—living at the mercy of this dream instead of being its creator.

Thankfully, they didn't have long to wait. A yellow glow emerged from the stairwell preceding its carrier.

“Sun!” Purple blurted out.

Sun stopped at the base of the stairs. “You again?” she muttered. “Just who are you? I've never seen you before in my life. Why are you following me?”

“Wait, you don't know who this is?” Red thumbed toward Mark.

“No, does it matter?”

“Your file showed up in our hub.”

“My—what? Look. Just leave me alone.”

“Sun, listen,” Blue stepped forward, but the robot's arm stretched out to block her. “We know that voice you're hearing is telling you to return the light bulb to the tower, but you can't listen to it. It's lying to you.”

She clutched the red scarf around her neck in her left hand, cradling the bulb in her right. “It's the only thing that's telling the truth. Please. I have to finish this. You guys don't understand what I've been through, I...” she moved quickly around the other side of the desk. “You're just strangers, just like everyone else. Don't follow me anymore.”

“Sun!” Peach reached out to grab her scarf, but her fingertips merely brushed it.

Sun hurried down the half levels and out of the library.

“Dammit, again?” Jade cursed. “Why does she keep doing that?”

“She can't get into the tower without all three pieces of the old sun,” Purple said. “She was probably here to get the third piece.”

“But she doesn't have all three,” Red looked to his teammate, who pulled up his inventory and removed the glowing feather.

Mark clutched the feather gently, but firmly in his left hand.

“Come on, we gotta hurry!” The group followed Blue swiftly to the door, but Mark trailed behind them slowly.

“Mark?” Purple met up with him in the middle of the carpeted central isle.

He didn't want to be right. Or more rather, he didn't want Tiny Box Tim to be right. “Dammit. I knew something was funky,” he hissed between his teeth. “Guys, I think this is worse than anything we've seen before.”

“Yeah, we know. This nightmare is screwing with us like it's real,” Blue said. “We just have to be more careful.”

“It's not just a nightmare.” Fear pulsed in his heart at his own words. If he voiced them aloud, then that meant the others would hear his theory, and with the amount of evidence that stacked up on this journey, and Tiny Box Tim's warning, he couldn't brush it aside anymore. His previous 100% assurances had lowered to 10%. and as he opened his mouth, it dropped to zero.

“I was hoping Tim was wrong, but it doesn't look like that now.” He swiped down with his index finger in the air at chest height, calling up his menu and tapped on the 'mission' information. The report that each of them were given appeared on the semi-transparent screen. “Look at the record date.”

Everyone peered at it closely.

Blue blinked in confusion, as did everyone else. “One year ago? But the day and month are the same. This is just a typo.”

“That's what I thought, too. But the more time we've spent here, and the people we've encountered beg to differ. Everything shows a wear of age. The letter at the Barrens, the robots, everyone knowing this world is falling apart. Even those squares seem like pieces of this place are disappearing.”

Mark took a deep breath. “This dream is affecting us like reality, because for Sun, it is reality—more-so than usual.” He gestured to the entrance behind them. “The robot outside those doors said he's been pacing in the same spot for three months. The papers on the nerd-bot's desk all have different time stamps for check-in and check-out dates, and their titles. That's not something that appeared in the game. It's native to this dream.” He locked his team in sight, throwing all joking to the side. “This isn't a typo. Time has actually been passing here.”

Words he never thought he'd utter in this world or the waking world forced from his lips. “Sun's been dreaming for one year.”

Purple's mouth slacked. “That's impossible. No one can do that. No one can survive.”

“Unless she's in a coma,” Red voiced what none of them wanted to.

Mark nodded.

“Fuck me,” Jade exhaled. “Then why One Shot?”

“Maybe it was the last Let's Play she saw?” Peach bit her lip. “Which might mean she doesn't know about the other endings. All she knows is the choice Mark had to make for Niko.”

“But she doesn't know who he is, so she wouldn't make that connection,” Blue spoke up.

“Didn't Niko have a choice to shatter the bulb or put it back?” Red explained. “Shattering it would send Niko home, but replacing the bulb would mean they were stuck here forever.”

“If she smashes the bulb, she might wake up, but...” to Blue, it didn't feel like Sun wanted to.

“Why didn't you tell us about this theory before?” Red snapped.

Mark understood the source of his anger, and he reciprocated that feeling. “Because I didn't have enough evidence to prove it before. I've never been inside the dream of a coma patient that I'm aware of. I'm kicking my own ass here, all right?” He was upset at himself for not realizing it earlier, and for not taking Tim's warning as seriously as he should have.

The memory of Teal's failed rescue assaulted Blue again. Her heart ached. Teal had accepted the darkness, refusing to be saved. They saw her at PAX, but haven't encountered her since. “No,” Blue grit her teeth. “Not again. I will not lose anyone else ever again!”

She burst through the library doors at top speed. Fueled by the powerful desire to save this girl who had lived in the dream world for one year. Jade caught up to her easily and the two chased down the glowing bulb toward the tower. The team followed close behind.

A cluster of particle corruption squares formed in a flash right in their way. The pathway beneath it dissolved. The squares were an involuntary response to Sun's stress and need to end this darkness, so it was destroying itself little by little over the past year in a self-destructive downward spiral.

“This way,” Blue lead the group to the left and around, linking back up with the original walk.

"I don't know where that Terrorling is, but I'm going to punch it in the dick," Mark scowled.

“Do they even have dicks?” she cast him a side-long glance.

“Time to find out.”

The massive tower's spire loomed like an ominous sleeping giant. Sun didn't make all the choices for the Solstice ending. This was Mark's ending. If she were able to enter the monolith, she'd be faced with two choices:

Replace the bulb and be forced to remain in this world...

Or smash the light bulb, ending this world and either waking up, or ending herself along with it.

If they failed here, they failed for good. They literally had only one shot to get this right.

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

TBC

Prologue: A Light in the Darkness

Chapter 1: Weekend Warriors

Chapter 2: Something’s Suspishy

Chapter 3: Chasing the Sun

Chapter 4: The Nightmare’s Truth

Chapter 5: Light and Shadow

Chapter 6: Lifeline - part 1

Chapter 7: Lifeline - part 2

Chapter 8: Phantom Power

Chapter 9: Mark’s Past

Chapter 10: A Second Chance

Chapter 11: Learning to Breathe

Epilogue: Ad Infinitum

#hearts and heroes fanfiction #hearts and heroes #markiplier #the nightmares truth #sun #meliecho #one shot #things get pretty heavy #Red somehow became one of my favs #Moral of the story #listen to Tiny Box Tim #fanfiction #fanfic

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ourotps · 7 years

Text

It Feels Right Pt 2

Bucky x Reader

You don’t have to read the first part to understand this one. But anyway the reader forgets Bucky after all they’ve been through.

—————

You were called in to New York to solve a problem no one else could. You haven’t been in New York since the fall of SHIELD, it felt a little weird being back. This time instead of wondering the subway, you wonder your way through the Stark Tower to find this famous lab.

“(Y/n)!” Tony said making you turn around. You greeted him with a polite smile and handshake.

“I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”

“It’s no problem but I only have two days before I’m off to Beijing.”

“Why are you going to Beijing?”

“I’m going in to prove my theory, I think I found a loop in time. We’ve lived through the same moment a couple of times now without realizing it. I found a hole in the space-time continuum.”

“Show off”

“You asked.” By now you two were walking into his over the top lab.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you (y/n). I’ve read and heard so much about you.” Dr. Banner said introducing himself.

“Likewise, Dr. Banner.” You say happily shaking his hand.

They finally placed a glowing stone in front of you that really caught your attention. You reached out to touch it, it was bright purple.

“No! Don’t touch it!” Bruce yelled making you jump a bit.

“Thor calls it an infinity stone. They are a raw power that were supposedly made with the universe.”

“And you want to harness this power?” You ask confused.

“Not really it’s already been done before.”

“Oh okay, well I want those notes. You want to figure out how they are made, and why they do what they do.”

“Yep.”

“Thor? Thor knows about these right?”

“He says so.”

“Bring him in. I’ve got two days here so…”.

“You’re gonna unravel the universe in two days.” Dr. Banner asks skeptical.

“Well I’m going to give it my best shot.”

After hearing everything you could about the infinity stone you finally started theorizing. You started arguing with Stark and Banner about its chemical make up.

“Ummm…Stark, Steve said he wanted to give you these.” A man quietly said interrupting your argument. The man kept his eyes on you making you a little uncomfortable. He was deeply handsome but also creeping you out a little. His dark almost brooding eyes seemed to make you squirm inside, almost in a good way though. Something about him resonated deep inside of you.

“You must be Mr. Barnes, I’m (y/n) (y/l/n).” You say introducing youself to the man. Any words were better than none. You were able to recognize him as one of the new Avengers.

“Nice…to meet you? Well…I’m..just going to go now.” He said awkwardly still staring at you like you were a ghost. You ignored him and turned to continue your work.

It was maybe two in the morning the next time you saw him. You had finished going over some notes and research and wanted a snack. Everyone was asleep. Everyone except Mr. Barnes. He stood in the kitchen drinking some kind of drink staring at you.

“Any reason you’re staring at me Mr. Barnes?” You ask not even bothering to look at him. Silence filled the dimly lit kitchen.

“How are you alive?”

“Excuse me? You’re around 97 and no one explained the birds and bees to you?” It was clear to him by now you had no memory of your previous time with him. And that crushed him. Here you were, still so beautiful, smart, and lovely, but so out of reach. He didn’t want to tell you about your history, because maybe this was for the best. He didn’t really deserve you anyway.

“How do you know how old I am?”

“I…I don’t know. I must have read about you somewhere.”

“You researched me?” He asked giving a sly smile. Something about him gave you a weird sense of déjà vu. He just seemed like an old song you forgot you knew the words to. Or an old book you loved as a kid. He was somewhere distant in your mind, but he wasn’t a tangible idea yet.

“I most certainly did not research you Mr. Barnes! I just h—”

“Hey, I believe you, I was just joking. So where are you from?” His voice was softer and so was his facial expressions.

“Romania” You say making him smile.

“What? Have you been there?” You ask raising an eyebrow.

“I lived there for a while, until Steve found me.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Depends on what.” You tell him as you open up the refrigerator to look for food.

“How do you know Stark?”

“Well, when I was 10, I sat next to him in a physics conference, where all we did was discuss physics, and theories and boring stuff like that.”

“10, wow you must have been a smart little cookie.” And the small smile that appeared on your face tugged at his heart strings.

“I guess so.”

“So what do you do now?”

“What—hold up. You can’t ask all the questions! It’s my turn Mr. Banes.”

“It’s Bucky.”

“Bucky” you repeated. His name was like a the smell of your childhood home. Something you couldn’t name but Something you would aways remember. Bucky. Bucky. Bucky watched you trying to see if you were remembering him.

“What exactly were you doing in those 70 years?”

“I was a HYDRA assassin.” He answered with a hint of shame but in a truthful tone. He was laying all his cards out for you to see, but why.

“It’s my turn now (y/n). So what do you do now?”

“Well I worked for SHIELD. Well I thought I did, but when SHIELD fell I learned that most of my work went to HYDRA. So I left for Romania, and tried to clear my head. But somehow I was just pulled back to the science community. I’m off for China to talk about the space-time continuum.” You had no idea why you told him so much. He just felt right. It felt like it was the right thing to say, that he would understand. It feels like he already just knows you.

“Did you have an siblings?”

“No, I can’t remember why my family died, but they did when I was younger. I was an only child.”

He couldn’t believe HYDRA had created such a complex lie. They had you tricked into believing that you were working for SHIELD while you clearly worked for them. They even had you believe you had no sibling or that they didn’t murder your family. Bucky wanted to hurt someone for doing this to you. For twisting your beautiful brain up.

“Can I tell you something weird Bucky?”

“Sure (y/n).”

“The brain is full of a lot of confusing things. Déjà vu is simply the actions of your hippocampus, everything in there is part of some kind of past memory. It could be fake memory like a dream or a real memory. But you seem like someone I’ve met before. I feel like I already know you. Is that creepy?” The smile that appeared on Buckys face made your stomach nauseous with anticipation.

“(Y/n) we have met before.”

“We have? I’m so sorry I didn’t remember you. I can’t say that I remember you at all.”

“We met and you helped me escape HYDRA.”

“I—I did?” You stutter confused as hell.

“Yeah, I owe you my life (y/n). You were the first person I trusted in a long time.”

You go silent. Is it possible you’ve lived a different life? You needed fresh air and to think about the possibility that everything you know could be a lie. You quickly told Bucky you had to go and left the room. Bucky didn’t follow you but a part of you wished he would have.

When you woke up the next day you threw yourself into work. Was it possible you lived a life of lies? You knew Bucky, you knew him. But yet, there were no memories of him.

“(Y/n) any ideas on the stone’s composition?” Tony ask interrupting your thoughts.

“Is everything okay (Y/n)?” Banner asks you worried about how detached you seem.

“I just need to umm—I need a break.” You say wondering out of the lab. You didn’t know you destination yet. You just let your subconscious lead you around. It lead you to a closed door on which you instinctively knocked on.

“(Y/n) are you okay?” A worried voice asks

“I just need to talk to you.”

“Do you want to go get a milkshake?” Bucky asked melting away your building anxiety.

“Yes” you say relieved, he grabs a jacket and opens the door for you.

You head out to a nearby Diner. You order some fries and a Vanilla milkshake.

“So I’ve been thinking.” You tell Bucky who’s contently sipping his root beer float.

“That is something you tend to do.”

“You need to tell me everything about our time together. Everything.”

“Are you sure? You ready to hear about the real (y/n)?”

“Yeah” you say taking in a deep breath.

——— 1 Year Later—————

“(Y/n)! Are you ready to go? We’re going to be late and I don’t think you want to be late for this!” Bucky yelled

“Har har you’re a comedian.” You tell him as you walk out all dressed up.

“Whoa, you look beautiful.” Bucky say taking your hand and kissing it.

“You don’t look to bad yourself.” You say noticing how handsome he looked in his suit. He smiled as he sweetly kissed you.

“Do you have your speech?”

“In my purse” you say walking towards the elevator his hand is on your back and his touch brings you home.

“I’m so proud of you (Y/n)” he says lovingly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” You tell him. You two were on the way to the Nobel Prize Awards. You had won one for your breakthrough discoveries in Neuroscience. Your research was done all because of him. The one person you never wanted to forget again, so you created new science so you never would. You could never lose him now, and even if you did you’d find you way back to him because everything with him feels right.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james barnes #bucky imagine #bucky #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #captain america imagine #marvel imagine #my writing

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whole-dip · 4 years

Text

Haunted Mansion

Okay so let's see if I can pull this off. I wanted to do a big analysis/breakdown of a Disney ride to help people better appreciate the art of themed entertainment, as well as help people see a little bit of what my experience is like as I'm riding. I figured I'd go with a fairly popular one, one that a lot of people have experienced, so I chose The Haunted Mansion. I'm gonna be doing the Orlando version because that's the one I've been on.

Okay so we begin in Liberty Square. You're standing in front of the front gate. You see the mansion up upon the hill, the path towards it winds through the front garden/graveyard to the entrance. The sign, at eye level, ominously tells you what's inside. There's a couple different things going on here. First and foremost, you're seeing a spooky mansion up on a hill. Classic example of forced perspective, building something so that when you look at it the proportions give the illusion of a different size. If you think about it, everything you do on the ride could never fit in the building you see before you, but the forced perspective is enough in your mind for you to accept it. As you walk through the line the perspective will slowly shift to make it all make sense to you. The more important thing here is that the mansion looms over everything in Liberty Square. You can see it from almost every part of the land, and that makes it fearsome. That makes kids say either "That big scary house is staring me down and I don't want to go" or "I'm gonna go in that big scary house and conquer whatever is inside" It's a big centerpiece of which the entire rest of the land is built around, the focal point.

Next, you start walking in the line. You're in the graveyard. Funny tombs surround you, and as of a few years ago there are now interactive graves. This is referred to as Scene One. It puts you in the mood, it starts setting the tone. We see a mix of darkness from the graves, but upon further inspection we see that it's all quite funny. This is the tone the rest of the ride will have, spooky whole, funny close up. There's also interactive elements, a ghostly eulogist, a musical crypt, a moving bookcase. This is part of Disney's more recent initiative of having interactive elements in ride queues. This one is one of the more popular examples of good implementation. All of the interactive elements are fairly minimal, main reason being that you need to be moving, not playing with toys.

Now, the doors are opened by a maid/butler and you're welcomed into the foyer. The portrait of the ghost host slowly turns to a skeleton as the voice welcomes you in. The doors close behind you. This is first and foremost, more scene setting. You're being told where you are, what you're doing, how it's gonna happen, etc. It's giving context. But also, you're being corralled unto a group, being more active, and feeling like you're not in line any more, even though you are. You're then welcomed to the stretching room. In Disneyland this serves an actual purpose as an elevator, here it's just for fun. Again, driving home that theme of spooky but fun.

Finally, you enter the load area where you'll be getting on your doom buggy. The doom buggy is an example of what's called an omnimover. The original idea for the ride was that you'd walk through it but the problem was that no one would want to keep moving. The omnimover was developed to allow guests to slowly move through a ride, be turned 360 degrees, but still be in a vehicle controlled by the attraction so that ride times weren't affected.

You quickly move through a small stairwell and then you're on to the hallway with paintings. Your buggy turns and faces you to the paintings, lightning flashing behind you as you hear thunder and the somewhat ominous paintings flash more viciously for just a moment. This scene really captures what the Haunted Mansion is all about. There's a couple of technical effects that are being used, somewhat sparingly if you think about it, to create the sense of "did those paintings just change, or was it my imagination?" that permeates the ride. Here, it's simple UV light being flashed on an otherwise normal paintings. Note the ghost ship, a reference to the original theme of the ride that would have focused more on a nautical home.

Next, the marble busts in the library. Personally, I've always found this room to be a tad boring. The busts are merely concave carvings that look as though they're following you, a common illusion. What's cool though is that this is the "worst" it gets, which is still pretty cool. The ghost host really lays it on thick with the puns here which normally I'd like but here it gets to be maybe a bit too much.

After that we see a piano, seeming to play itself, but a ghostly shadow below playing it on the floor. I think this is incredible because if you think about it for like, two seconds you know exactly how to do this, but it's just so perfectly done that to me I lose myself. I have to remind myself to look for the technical details when I'm riding because if not I'll forget and just see a ghost playing piano. That mastery over simple and straightforward illusions is one of the things that makes Haunted Mansion so perfect.

The infinite stairwell. This room has been changed a ton of times, and it might change again one day. I like that this room helps add to the impending madness of the ride that the story is supposed to be about. A lot of people forget that the Haunted Mansions is supposed to be the story of you questioning if the ghosts are real or if you're just crazy. I think a lot of the story on this ride isn't perfectly done, but this room filled with impossible architecture really helps sell it.

Now, the endless hallway, with a floating candelabra at the end. This room features a ghostly chill that I don't think really works honestly. I never got the sense of that going on, rather it just felt like a weirdly cold spot. The endless hallway is fantastic though, and a scene I think about often. It's such a sparse room if you think about it, but it works so well. It's one of the show scenes that I actually don't really know how they did it.

The opening coffin is the closest thing we've seen to an audio animatronic (AA) that we've seen thus far, and it's great. The way the green light glows from inside, the roughness of the hatch as it's being pushed open, fantastic. I've always loved it, especially as a smaller scene.

Next, another hallway, this time with less effects. We see the sinister purple and black wallpaper that's classic, such a small detail that's commonly known now, but I wonder what it was like for people to slowly notices the menacing eyes in before the internet. The portraits are fun, but repeat a bit too often for me. We end with a monstrous clock, striking thirteen, and the shadow of a massive hand passing over it. To me, this strikes the perfect balance of silly and spooky. Sure, it may be frankly ridiculous, but it's still completely menacing and out to get you.

Now, an incredible scene. Madame Leota's seance. Everyone's doom buggy slowly turns so that we're always in the a big circle, just like any other seance calling forth ghosts. You can look to the other buggies and see them, but of course Leota steals the show. She's a projection on top of the face inside the ball, giving here a ghoulish look, and if you pay attention, the instruments she calls out are floating around the room. I really love the sound design here, as she calls each instrument there's a pause, then a slow but deliberate response. This scene could've easily been far more over top and loud but there's a restraint here that could only come from the history of imagineering that came before it.

The ballroom. Maybe the most iconic scene, or at least one of them, this room is perhaps the most technically complex on the ride. We see the ghostly forms slowly appear before us, all doing their own thing. It's very much a party with some interacting with each other, some on their own. This is pepper's ghost, an old parlor trick commonly used with live actor but here it's done with AA figures. If you notice, you're at a very particular height, not low to the ground, but not on the roof. That's because you're actually about halfway up the room, with ghost AAs above you and below you. Because o the pepper's ghost effect all the figures you see are also on your side of the room, but cleverly the reflections appear as ghosts before you. Pretty cool, huh?

We move to the attic, the domain of the bride, Constance. We see the wedding portraits as the men slowly lose their heads, each one has Constance gaining another pearl necklace. At the end of the room is Constance herself, hatchet in hand. Theme park rides were pretty much invented by film people so they often are developed using film language. Something that has to be accounted for is getting the audience to look where you want them to. If you think about it, this ride is set up kinda like a tracking shot. Slowly you enter the room, meandering through it and ultimately ending on a focal point, in this case, the bride. Scenes like this, with so much cinematic quality while still not being a movie, this is what got me to fall in love with theme parks.

We now begin our descent into the cemetery outside. While many talk about the lore here, that of Constance allegedly killing you and throwing you out the window, there's a far more practical reason for this. At this point, you're on the second floor but you need to be on the first floor. The only way to do that is to lean you backwards for your descent, otherwise you'd be super uncomfortable. The lore is a really good example of adapting story to the physical necessity of the ride.

We're now full in the swingin' wake at the cemetery. The music is fully playing, the ghosts are all out fully having a party, and we're truly surrounded on all sides by show. Our eyes dart around seeing so much and it's sensory overload in the best way. There isn't much to say here in terms of design principles, it is what it is, an all out party. Something I love is the jumping heads behind some of the tombstones. They almost scold you for trying to look too closely, a fun little jump.

Finally, we see the hitchhiking ghosts as a sort of last gag, the projection of the ghosts in our own buggy as a last Wow! and then Constance once more on a mantle as a last scare. A perfect little bow on each aspect of the ride. We unload and exit through a spooky, but well lit, hallway and back outside. The exit quickly pulls us out of the spooky darkness and back into the level of the theming in Liberty Square we had before we entered the queue.

So there you have it, a full breakdown of Haunted Mansion. While I could go on and on about little secrets and the development history and whatnot, I wanted to just do an analysis of what it's like to ride it. All the trivia comes after that initial ride through that leaves you breathless and full of joy.

#disney #disneyworld #imagineering #rolly crump #goth #spooky #eddie murphy #scary #ghosts

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wizardsnwookies · 6 years

Text

FOC122117 - One Night at the Neon

“Ahhh, Graalbar. I hope you found what you were looking for?” Graakus waved the group into his audience chamber, a glass of pale green liquid resting in his grip. Graalbar led them in walking in tandem with a twilek assistant assigned as a translator. Rugor and Vrssl hung back for the moment, Graalbar had already done the initial legwork and all they had to go on was second hand knowledge. They wanted to hear what Graakus had to say before speaking for themselves.

When Graalbar shook his head the hutt frowned and set his glass down on a floating platform. “Pity, did you at least get something useful?”

GRAAAAAR ROWRK GARRRR

“Aisha...working in MY facility?” Graakus narrowed his eyes and stood to full attention on his mechanical legs. “She’s getting a bit too cocky for my taste."

Graakus calmed himself by reaching out and taking a long pull from his glass. He sighed, letting the veins bulging in his neck calm and settle before continuing. “Kara is a valued asset, and I would like to see her returned if possible, but more importantly I think I have let this problem with the Togruta go on long enough. I’ve stayed my hand for the sake of appearances, taking her out directly would all but bring my organization to the surface.” He looked at the three of them and smiled. “Personal vendettas are far more simple and tidy.”

“ ‘Simple and tidy,’ so I assume that doesn’t mean ‘a pair of rampaging battledroids set loose in a crowded night club?’” Vrssl seemed disappointed.

“As much fun as that sounds, I would prefer something more quiet. Besides, her organization could prove to be a valuable addition to my own.” Graakus placed the empty glass on the platform and pressed a button on the curved edge, sending it back to the bar for a refill.

“A merger?”

“If possible. She has a second in command, a Zabrak by the name of Jan Van Eyre. Make him the offer, all of their assets, all of their ‘employed’, everything goes to me. I will make sure everyone is treated as well as can be expected of their level of usefulness.” He paused as the platform returned with his drink and he took a long, sensuous sip.

“However, and this is non-negotiable, Aisha Hannah must die.”

GRAAAAH RONK

Graalbar folded his arms expectantly.

“Then something most unfortunate happens to her little club. A generator explosion perhaps? Everyone dies, and with it, her organization begins its decent into nothingness.”

---

“This guy is a ghost.” Rugor frowned and tossed his data pad on the lounge couch next to him. He had been on the net, both surface and dark net, for hours and found only hints and mentions of this lieutenant of Aisha’s. “But wherever he DOES show up, it’s bad news.”

Graalbar made no acknowledgement, ever since he had gotten back his new Rancor-hide armor from Graakus’s armorer he had done nothing but admire it. He sat with a can of leather polish, gently massaging the paste into the hide with a piece of scrap cloth. Vrssl only briefly looked up from his own business, scrolling local shop ads for personal shield generators for his new battle droids.

“What about the club layout?”

“Are you kidding? It’s a public establishment, of course I got a layout. With all the selfies people post of themselves there on social media I can map every nook and cranny of the joint.” Rugor squinted his eyes as he corrected himself. “Except for two halls in the back.”

“Why not?”

“Must be off limits to the public, or the refreshers, or both.” Rugor shrugged. “This is a good start but there’s still a lot of question marks.”

“Like the Zabrak.”

GROWWWR ROOOOWR

“I’m sure you could very easily handle him.” Vrssl nodded to the wookie, having finally joined the conversation. It was certainly an option, take out Aisha’s second in command, send her a strong message to get her to the table. “But I think he’s our best bet to make a deal, remember Graakus wants her head.”

RAWWWRK

“Good question, how do we get his attention?” Vrssl turned to Rugor now who had picked his datapad back up, something coming to him during the discussion.

“Dunno...we could cause a little trouble at the club. Bomb threat, rowdy customer,” Rugor’s eyes flashed to Graahlbar when he said this who nodded in turn, flashing a toothy grin.

“Unfortunately I think he’s a little too high profile now for that. The holo is all over the net right now, the minute he steps foot in the place people will recognize him.”

“Funny you should say that.” Rugor spun the datapad around the four images stared back at Vrssl, one for each of them, and each with a sizable number next to them. “We’re still wanted by the Empire.”

Vrssl smiled, quickly catching on. “Which means Aisha is harboring a known fugitive. Would be a shame if someone were to drop an anonymous tip.”

Graahlbar slumped back into the couch and tuned out again, this line of thinking was out of his wheelhouse. Shame, he was looking forward to facing the so-called “Ghost” Zabrak.

“Just one problem, we don’t know for sure they are holding her at the Neon.” Rugor pulled the datapad back across the table. “We should probably confirm that before we do anything.”

“Right,” Vrssl reeled himself back from the edge of fiendish glee. “Then there’s the matter of how we are getting her out of there with troopers swarming over the place?”

RAAWWWR

“Of course we’re not forgetting about the money.”

Rugor exhaled deeply, letting his thoughts sink in. As much fun as it would be to bring the empire down on Aisha, that would bring in a lot more problems than it would solve.

“Stakeout?”

“Sounds like we need a spy droid.” Vrssl’s glee returned, he spun around in his seat and hit the comm link. The shield generators for the battle droids were merely a finishing touch on a completed project. His tinkerer’s fingers were getting twitchy, a new toy was just what the doctor ordered.

“I was thinking I could just apply for a job...” Rugor arched an eyebrow.

“Why not both?”

---

The Neon Cantina gave off a bright magenta glow that tinted nearly two full blocks of the metropolitan area a pale pink. The sign on the top of the squat building was lit from sundown to sunrise, and could be seen for miles above the city. A beacon of the nightlife and promise of upscale access that Shail offered in stark contrast to the slums of Hutt Town. A dull thud permeated the walls as the music inside continued to entertain those lucky enough to be gained entry, which was not as easy as it appeared.

When Graahlbar dropped off Rugor and Vrssl on the side of the street they were greeted with a line of species that lead to the front door and a velvet rope. A short, attractive, female human held a datapad in her palm, her bob-cut hair dyed the same color as the sign above her. Towering over her was one of the many Whiphid’s they expected to encounter tonight. It (their gender rather difficult to tell from a distance) was dressed in formal attire, and stood with their massive arms crossed in front of them.

“You go in first, I’ll wait in line.” Vrssl checked himself in the side mirror, standing on his toes to do so.

Rugor gave him a look. “Really?”

“Trust me.”

Rugor shrugged and gave himself a moment to figure out the angle he wanted to use. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass when stepping out of the speeder and was reminded that he was far from a looker. Something visible was probably out of the question. Although it made him feel dirty to do so, he’d play on the stereotype of his species if need be.

“Name?” The human female didn’t even look up from the datapad on his approach, her tone marked someone who had spent many nights having to shoo away the riff-raff who claimed to be a ‘friend or relative’ of the owner.

“Actually I was looking hoping to find a job.”

“Not hiring.”

“You need security?”

The Whiphid offered a chuckle at this. Finally, the female’s face pulled away from the screen long enough to shoot him a cold glare. “Not. Hiring.”

“Come on, I’ll take anything. Bus boy, janitorial, bar back-”

She was turning to the whiphid to have him escorted away but stopped halfway. “Bar back?” She gave him a once over before pulling up her wrist where a comm link had been subtly hidden in her sleeve. “Karl...I think I’ve got someone for you. I’m sending him to you, Gungan, kinda shabby looking-”

“Thanks for that.”

“-If he doesn’t report to you inform security.” Her hand lowered before she could get a response. The cold glare returned. “You hear that?”

“Crystal clear.”

“Good, then I won’t have to repeat myself.”

The inside of the Neon was more than pictures could do justice, there was an energy there that could be felt coming from every inch of the place. Rugor looked around at the clientele as he made his way across the floor, noting the security guards exactly where Charmer said they would be. The Neon attracted all kinds it seems, wound up spacers looking for a night on the town, a gand who was proving to be a surprisingly good dancer, and an overweight Twi’lek male with two very attractive females, one human, one Twi’lek, doting over him. Must be loaded, was all Rugor could figure.

As he approached the bar he let his eyes drift upwards to the VIP area, elevated a meter over the rest of the club. From this angle he could only see the tops of ferns and the heads of the occupants, two Whiphids, and sitting on a very large louch couch, a Togrutan female.

“You must be my new Bar Back.”

Rugor was snapped back to attention by a middle aged human male with light scruff on his face. He tossed a bar towel over his shoulder and ducked out from behind the glass top counter.

“You mean, I got the job?”

“Right place, right time it looks like. It’s been busy lately and I can’t afford to be picky. Name’s Karl, if I’m not tending bar you’ll be working for Elania.” Karl nodded over his shoulder to a human female, her hair was also died purple, but her shade was much deeper, and half of her head was shaved.

“I appreciate the opportunity.”

“Sure, sure. Let me give you a quick tour and we’ll put you to work.”

---

Vrssl looked at his chrono and frowned. He had been waiting far longer than anticipated. The female working the door was proving to be very stingy letting people in. Every now and then someone would come up on the list, but it wasn’t until half a dozen people left before she made her way up the line.

Her eyes scrutinized and weighed against some kind of internal standard that the public was apparently not privy to. She paused in front of each person before either moving on or giving a sharp, “You” before letting them in.

A few attractive females were let in first. A Rodian who Vrssl could only assume was considered well groomed for his species. A sharply dressed Devaronian. After a few rounds of this, Vrssl was starting to take it personally. He looked up at the person in front of him and cringed. A male Twil’ek, not un-attractive, but his dress was much to be desired. He had a button up shirt that was the right style and color, but it was buttoned all. the. way. And his pants were far too high.

“How long have you been waiting?”

The man turned at the voice but his eyeline was far too high to see who had adressed him.

“Down here.” Vrssl sighed.

“Oh, sorry?”

“I said, how long have you been waiting?”

“Too long.” The Twil’ek scoffed and cast a dirty look to the front door. The female had her nose in whatever work her datapad offered. “Did you see that Gand they let in? What’s he got that I don’t have?”

“Well, for one thing he slipped her a few credits, something you might want to keep in time next time if I’m not here to help you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Bend down.” Vrssl grabbed his shirt, not requesting, and began to work. He freed two buttons, un-tucked one side, adjusted his head tails, lowered the waist line... “Yeah, that should about do.”

The Twil’ek blinked and turned to look at himself in the reflective surface of the faux windows installed in the front of the building. “I don’t get it, how is this different then how I was dressed before?”

“I know you don’t get it, it’s fine. Next time she shows, just look like you don’t care about getting in either way and you should be golden.”

“But I do care about getting in.” He clearly wasn’t getting it.

“I know...I know, just, trust me on this. And if you do get in, just remember who helped you?”

Vrssl smiled to himself and waited. Sure enough, twenty minutes later another large group exited the building and the sour looking door check girl made her way back up the line.

A rowdy group of humans and a random Twi’lek. A Kel Dor with very fine looking clothing, breather polished to a high shine.

“You.”

She passed on a grubby looking Toydarian who grumbled as they flew out of the line before finally stopping at the Twil’ek. Her eyes narrowed, puzzled, and gave him a good, long, once over.

“You.”

“Really?” The Twil’ek’s face lit up, eyes wide with surprise.

“Want me to pick someone else?”

“No, no. I’m in. Only...” He pointed back at Vrssl. “He’s with me.”

---

“Hey, new guy.” Karl looked up from the screen embedded into the counter and his hand immediately got to work on a new drink order. “You want a chance to make a good impression on the boss? Here’s your chance.”

Rugor took hold of the fluted glass by the stem, careful not to warm the ice cold, green cocktail. Slowly he made his way around the corner, and ascending the soft carpeted stairs to the VIP lounge. At the top of the stairs a Whiphid turned to look over his shoulder, saw the glass and stepped aside granting him view of the entire area.

The lounge was more comfortable than the main floor, less chaotic. Sound dampeners brought the music down to a more tolerable level, and the lighting was a steady soft glow of pinks and greens. Exotic ferns flanked the couch where Aisha lounged, playing on her data pad, and a large quartz table sat in the center of the room.

Aisha lifted her eyes from the pad and lowered it, reaching out for her glass and studying this new face in front of her.

“You’re new.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Karl’s bar back, just got hired today.”

“Ah.” Aisha lifted the glass to her lips, her eyes rolled back, almost bored. “Well, you’ll find I’m very fair to my people. You play by the rules, do your job, we all get along just fine.”

“I appreciate the opportunity working here. I offered to work security but they laughed at me.” Rugor was still feeling the situation out. He wasn’t quite playing up the stereotypes just yet, but he wasn’t letting on just how on the ball he was either.

“Yes well, as you can see we have that taken care of.” Aisha smiled and let a hand wave at one of the whiphids to her side.

“I didn’t mean just the rough stuff. I have other talents.” Rugor stepped up to the couch. “May I?”

Aisha furrowed her brow at first, but after a moment’s pause she laughed to herself. This was different, most new hires were too scared to look at her, let alone ask to sit with her. What the hell?

“Why not?”

Rugor sat and snatched up the data pad, his fingers flew across the surface and before she could see what he was doing the data pad was spun her way.

“Just a few of my extracurricular activities.”

The net was open to an online review page for the 23 Restaurant. Aisha was aware of the establishment, who couldn’t be? Its policy of discrimination was something she took to personal offense, and the inclusiveness of her own establisment she saw as an antithesis to it.The rating for the 23 had plummeted in the past few days, and recent reviews and comments ranged from negative to abysmal.

“You did this?”

“A simple bot program, posts a new review every few minutes or so. They’re also have non-human nights on Fridays now.” Rugor smiled and it wasn’t all for her benefit. He was still quite proud of this particular bit of programming on his part.

A smile grew wide on Aisha’s lips and her eyes blinked elegantly before turning to look at him. “Bravo.”

“They wouldn’t let a friend of mine in.” Rugor shrugged and stood. “Just figured I’d show you, didn’t know if you would need skills like mine in the future.”

Aisha’s mind was already working in overtime. What a delicious new asset that just so happened to drop right into her lap. Oh the things she could do.

“I just might.”

---

Last call came with one final glorious mix over the speakers. The liquor poured as patrons made their parting shots to sobriety before stumbling into the night. The whiphids made their rounds urging those already too inebriated to open their wallets to find their way to the door. All of this passed without anyone knowing that within one of the magnificent purple ferns by the bar, hid a tiny military grade spy droid, ready for Vrssl to take control from the speeder parked around the corner.

“Nice night?” Vrssl offered a playful jab as he climbed into the passenger seat next to a very bored Graalbar who had spent the last few hours reviewing the holos of his battle with the Rancor.

GROOOONK RAAAWK

“Oh come on, I’m just teasing. We’re all working tonight.” Vrssl found his datapad tucked in between the seats and fired up the droid remote program. “And it’s time I clocked in.”

The screen flickered to life with a dark and obstructed view from inside the fern, but the audio receivers were working just fine. The music had died for the night, and only the light hum of carpet cleaners could be heard over the speakers. With quick and precise swipes and taps, Vrssls fingers glided across the screen and the droid stood upon it’s tiny mechanical legs and silently climbed out of the foliage.

GRAWRK ROOONK

“Well, I think the best place to start is the security room, see if there were any whiphids we missed.”

RAAAWR

“I see him.”

Vrssl maneuvered to follow the towering form of one of the hairy bodyguards as he strode across the main floor. His jacket had been removed and was hanging casually across his arm as he played with a small data pad. He made his way out of the main room and took the first right into a heavy, secure door, swiping his card for entry.

Silent as a breeze, the tiny droid skittered across the carpet and slipped inside just before the door closed behind him.

“Hello, boys.”

In all there were seven whiphids in the room, most were fussing about near a row of lockers, ending their shifts and changing into more formal attire. Directly opposite a massive computer station took up the entire wall and part of the corner. A single whiphid sat inputting some kind of data at one of the stations, just beyond the security screens still glowed with life.

“Bingo. Let’s see what we have here.” Vrssl loved security cameras, more often than not they gave more information than they protected. By looking at the cameras, you knew exactly what whoever owned them thought was worth protecting, and therefore, what was worth taking.

The droid climbed up the wall effortlessly and made it’s way onto the console, positioning itself so that the entire computer bank was in view. One in the coat room where a female Twil’ek was putting on her own jacket before leaving for the night. Four on the floor, each pointing in an opposite direction. One on the VIP lounge. One for each hallway behind the bar. And one more, that appeared to be an upstairs office.

Vrssl smiled and looked over to Graahlbar. In the office he saw three figures, Aisha and the Zabrak were talking on one side of the room, going over data on a computer desk against one wall. But what was of real interest was the final figure, flex cuffed and sitting on a small couch, Kara looked quite put out.

“Bingo.”

#Star Wars Saga Edition #campaign diary #role playing games #fistful of credits

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