#as there are a lot of things within our modern timeline that I both don't want to tackle with irl events and also feel to direct

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Fade Into You

ResidentEvil4Remake!Leon Kennedy x FemScientist/Pathologist/!Reader

Resident Evil x The Last of Us crossover

A/N: Just a little idea I had lying around. The timelines are a bit jumbled up since the Last of Us and Resident Evil take place in different eras so I made this story takes place in modern time so bear with me here. I hope y'all like it and let me know what you think! 💜

Summary: Imagine being a scientist set with the task of finding a cure for everything that has happened, assigned to return the world to how it once was only to become an assignment for someone else, an agent named Leon S. Kennedy tasked with making sure you are transported safely to your destination.

Warnings: language, some potential suggestive content, blood and gore and violence.

Notes: angst, some comfort and fluff and Leon’s terrible dad jokes and some trauma sprinkled in there.

Time. Time is a strange thing. Nonphysical and always there, always changing, from beginning to end. At the same time, it comes in cycles, repetitions and patterns. A metaphysical figment of creation, a concept constructed and molded to the understanding of the human species. An entity bigger than ourselves, spanning across millions of galaxies, and yet can fit within the palm of our hands. What is time, other than of what we know of it. Often times you found yourself wondering the same thing.

You don't know how long it has been since the outbreak, since the virus that started to plague the earth was first heard on the news, since well..........everything. So much has happened since, you had trouble remembering a lot of it, or any of it for that matter.

You used to work for the CDC, you still do, or what’s left of it, before you were taken against your will................there's not much left of anything anymore. Back then, you were the leading scientist in the department of Cancer Prevention and Control. 'New and upcoming young scientist leads the fight against cancer', titled the articles that were written about you, some of them far too promising and others harshly criticizing and objectifying. You're pretty sure you still have those articles stashed away somewhere, the good, the bad, and the ugly. What for? You’re not sure. Motivation perhaps, if there was any still left in you.

You were the best at your field, nearing a breakthrough for finding the ultimate cure for cancer that targeted the cells at the earliest and even latest stage, diminishing the illness completely as if it had never even existed in the host. You had even been featured on the cover of Life Magazine and the Smithsonian magazine for your work, the photos taken of you wearing your lab coat and standing over your microscope or interacting with your team and your patients. Boy was your father proud, his little girl on the verge of revolutionizing the medical world, he almost always had a hard time believing it, still picturing the day he held you bundled in his arms when you were first born. You were still ever his little girl to him. You could still remember the look on his face, the way he beamed when he found out, buying a copy of both those magazines just to frame it up on the wall as if there wasn’t already enough pictures of you and your little sister throughout your years.

You almost accomplished your mission, almost. You were close, so close. And then the virus took over, the Plagas and then the Cordyceps brain infection. Cancer became the least of worries.

Since the epidemic, you tried to save as much of your family photos as you could. After all, they were the only things left as a reminder of the past, of how things were. It's been so long the pictures almost don't seem real, like something created out of the mind of a delusionist, taken from of the pages of a science fiction novel, an imitation of an alternate reality. Never in you right mind did you think all those flesh-eating zombie movies you snuck out to watch with your sister at the local theater as a teen would feel more true to life than the actual past, the history of the human race.

Every night before you went to sleep, you'd pull out the storage box from under your bed, the one containing your family's photo albums, flipping through each page and staring at the photos of your parents and little sister as a way of forcing your brain to remember them. You believed this was your way of keeping them in your memory, recollecting the moment behind when each photograph was taken as if they were pieces of a broken vase meant to hold all that was you, pieces that sliced at you whenever you tried to put them back together. Truth was, you were afraid, desperate to cling on to the echo of their existence. And so you looked at those photos in a ritualistic manner, each and every night before bed. Truth is, you were starting to forget their faces, their voices, and you knew it.

In the beginning there were many; scientists, doctors, or pathologists or whatever you wanna call them, working on the task that was given to you by the government, each and every one of them fighting for a life of their own and the lives of many. Now they were just names on the diplomas that hung in their offices, names printed under an achievement of the institution they attended, just pieces of paper left to gather dust and be forgotten. Sometimes you wondered if you were the only one left; in your state, your country, the world? Who knows. In the building you worked, there used to be seven, then there were six, then five, then four…………….now there was only you.

Time seems to be nonexistent to you. The clocks on your walls meant nothing, nothing more than some numbers and a bunch of little gears that turn the hands to display the hour. A symbol of endless nothingness. The white walls of the building you worked in were just a place that they happened to hang on. And god you hated those white walls. You’ve lost count of the days you spent locked up within them, with nothing to keep you company except for the lab rats and your own thoughts. It's a wonder you didn't lose your sanity. A time came when you’d question if you’d ever see another human again. It seems as if your prayers were answered.

You were currently sat on the makeshift bed of a small base hideout, staring ahead at the fabric of the military tent that blew slightly against the wind, the makeshift tent that you stayed in after you were rescued, if you would call it that. Being the only woman at a base full of military men had its own fears, and you'd almost rather be out with the infected than here. You don’t know what it’s like anymore, being free I mean, you only remember being held hostage, held in one place to work for the government only to be taken away to work for another before being taken again for your so-called expertise, like an almost endless cycle, as if you were some goods that needed to be traded off and transported from one destination to another until you could no longer be of use.

You couldn't remember much after you were taken by the cult in an attempt to bring back Umbrella Corp or whatever they wished to call themselves, the memory of it all was still as fuzzy as when you first arrived under their "management". Now what would you even call your current circumstance? A formal and civil hostage situation under the label of U.S. personnel? You were only being held for the time being before being sent back to the states to work for whatever was left of the government. And as much as you wanted to go back home, or what's left of it if we're being honest, you've only heard of how worse it has gotten since you left.

“Y/l/n.” One of the soldiers called for you as he opened the flap entrance to your tent, his form casting a shadow across the floor in front of you. “It’s time.”

You gave the soldier a quick nod, grabbing your backpack from the floor and the small pocket knife that you kept under your pillow, stuffing the folded blade in the back pocket of your jeans as you got up and walked out of your tent. You followed the soldier as he led you through the open area where other soldiers were gathered, some of them standing guard, some eating their meals and others standing around leisurely as they conversed with each other. You could feel their eyes on you, watching you tag behind the soldier that was in front of you as he led you to the bigger tent on the other side of the field, the tent where the officers and higher ups held their meetings to discuss important matters.

You heard some voices coming out from inside the tent, two to be exact, discussing something important apparently. It’s all they ever did around here. And as you stepped in after the soldier, you saw the colonel speaking to a man you had never seen before. Tall, blond hair, wearing civilian yet practical clothes with tactical gear over it, unlike everyone else here who donned the military uniforms. He's definitely not military-

“Sir-“ the soldier that led you spoke, alerting the colonel of your presence.

“Ah. There you are.” The colonel turned towards you with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling from his old age as he gestured you over to where he stood at the table that was stationed dead center of the larger tent. “Was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.”

You looked between the two men across from you in the tent once the soldier that was by you had left, allowing you a better view as you only watched with slight uncertainty before approaching the officer. The man whom you did not recognize had looked your way as well, his face not showing a single shift in emotion upon your arrival, but you had managed to notice the slight curious quirk of his brow at seeing you. Who the hell was he?

“Say hello to your assignment,” the colonel gestured towards you as he spoke to the blond man. God you hated being called that, assignment. “Dr. y/n y/l/n."

“Leon S. Kennedy.” The man outstretched his hand, to which you stared at with the blankest look possible.

"............Pleasure." You gave the man a short smile, completely disregarding his offer for a handshake before turning to the older officer and pulling him aside as if the young man wasn’t even present in the first place, watching from the side of your eye as he awkwardly pulled his hand back, a look of hidden puzzlement on his face. You didn't want to seem rude but this was not what you had signed up for, being alone for who knows how long with a man you absolutely did not know.

“Agent Kennedy here is to ensure that you are transported and arrived safely to your destination.” The colonel answered after seeing the silent but scrutinizing look on your face.

So an agent huh. He’s probably as stuck up as the rest of those shit heads you've had to come across. Agent or not, who's to say he isn't like the others.

“What does that have to do with me?"

"Well he's been hired as your bodyguard."

You tried your best not to laugh. "What, some washed up reject of the Backstreet Boys?” You lowered your voice, knowing damn well the agent a few feet away from you could hear everything.

Leon couldn’t help but cock his head back with a slight scoff, not sure if he should be offended by your insult or impressed by the creativity behind it.

“Agent Kennedy is the best in his field. And our job is to make sure you end up safe back in America. I’m afraid you’re much too valuable to be left to wander back on your own.”

You let out a small huff, crossing your arms over your chest with a stern look of contemplation as you eyed the ground beneath your feet before finally folding. He had a point there, it was dangerous out there. But who's to say you should trust him? You had trouble trusting anyone for that matter. "Do you trust the guy?" You looked up at the colonel, knowing better than to trust a man's word but who else was there. There wasn't really anyone here to protect you but yourself.

"Agent Kennedy is a good man, reliable, I assure you."

You don't know that. "............then I suppose I have no choice but to take your word then." You sighed, knowing there wasn't really a way out of this.

“Good. Go easy on him alright.” The colonel straightened up, placing his hand on the back of your shoulder as he led you back to where the other man stood.

"Agent Kennedy, I trust you'll keep Miss y/l/n here safe."

"Yes sir." Leon nodded his head, attempting to send you a kind smile as if to say you were in good hands but you only stared off into the distance, still unhappy with the decision made. As long as it meant you went back home. Home. Jesus. You don't even know what was awaiting you there.

"She can be quite stubborn at times but you'll get used to it." The older officer added with a chuckle to which you shot back with a quick glare.

"Well that's fine by me." Leon smiled. "I'm a patient man." If only he knew how much you were going to drive him up the wall.

"Well here is the location where she needs to be dropped off." The officer handed Leon a piece of paper. If you have any questions, you know who to call."

"Copy that."

"Can I have a handgun-"

"No." The colonel was quick to interrupt your question. "That won't be necessary."

"Fine." You mumble to yourself. "Guess I'll just use my butter knife then."

Leon quietly watched the interaction between the two of you, slowly getting a clue about the personality of who he was going to be spending the upcoming days with, and he wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. He too would have opted for the same response as the colonel since you didn't look like the type to have ever fired a gun, much less used any weapon at all. And what exactly did you mean by butter knife? Should he be worried?

"Well you'd better get going, you don't want to be traveling at night, not with what's out there."

"Yes sir." Leon nodded his head at the colonel before heading out of the tent.

You turned to follow the tall blond but were stopped by the officer who held his hand up. "Not just yet. I have something here for ya."

You watched as the colonel pulled out a large black case, clicking open the clasps before opening it to reveal a hunting rifle nestled safely inside.

"I thought you said I couldn't have a gun."

"No, I said you couldn't have a handgun."

The colonel stepped aside, allowing you room to take a step closer to examine the rifle better. Was that? You'd recognize that wooden stock anywhere.

"My dad's rifle. How?"

"Had someone retrieve it from your old place. I'm guessing you know how to use it, judging from the way you recognized it so quickly."

"I-Thank you....sir."

"Just make sure you get your ass back to the lab in one piece." The colonel pulled the rifle out from the case before handing it to you, along with a box of some ammo.

"Of course." You sent the colonel a short smile, putting the box of ammo into your backpack before taking the rifle from his hands, feeling the weight of the thing within your grasp, recognizing each scuff mark and scratch that lined the wooden body, the little signs of wear and tear caused by your own clumsiness, each of them reminding you of the times spent with your father at the range when he taught you how to use the thing. It even smelled of him, after all this time. If you weren’t in a public setting you would have curled up into a ball and cried, holding the rifle close to your frame as if it were the remnants of your father, the man who raised and protected you for the majority of your life. And in a way, it was.

"Stay safe out there kid."

“Sure thing.” You gave a nod, slinging the strap of the rifle over your shoulder as you pushed the memories and emotions away, heading over to the entrance of the tent until the colonel called out again.

“Hey kid.”

“Yeah?” You turned back to face the older gentleman. It wasn’t long, the time that you’ve known him, but he seemed to be the only one that looked out for you, the only one that stood up for you when the other soldiers harassed you and uttered vulgar things in your direction.

“Try not to get separated from Agent Kennedy.”

“Can’t promise that.” You turned back around, raising your hand to send him a wave goodbye before pushing aside the flap of the entrance and stepping out into the sunlight. Well, this is it. Another day, another journey.

You were met outside of the tent with Agent Kennedy, who seemed to have been waiting outside the whole time, hopefully not eavesdropping, not that there was anything important or personal said back there but you just didn’t like people listening in on your conversations.

Straightening up, Leon gave a quick glance over your form before eyeing the rifle on your back. That definitely was not there before. “Where the hell did you get that thing?"

Christ this man talks too damn much and you just met him.

Rolling your eyes, you ignored his question, or rather his whole presence as you headed towards the truck that was set out for you. As much as you didn't want to be rude, you were anxious to get the hell out of this place and return to a place that you at least knew.

“Never mind I guess.” Leon muttered to himself before trying to catch up with you ahead. Jesus you walked with purpose.

Opening up the passenger door of the truck, you threw your backpack and rifle in the backseat before seating yourself in the passenger seat, putting on your seatbelt as you watched Leon walk up to the truck, still a couple feet away.

“Can this dude be any slower?” You muttered under your breath with a roll of your eyes, propping your elbow up on the door window as you stared out of it.

“Someone’s eager to get out of here.” Leon chuckled at the way you had situated yourself so quickly along with the obvious impatient expression that sat on your face as he opened the driver door before getting in himself, putting the keys into the ignition to start the car.

“So uh..........” Leon adjusted the rear view mirror before placing a hand on the back of your seat as a way to back the car out of the parking spot while you only studied his movements from the corner of your eye before glancing out the widow again. Why did you have a gut feeling this guy wasn’t the best driver. “where to huh? My place or yours?” Leon cracked a smug grin, hoping to lighten the mood judging from the unease you must have felt to be left with a complete stranger but quickly changing his mind after seeing the absolute foul, confidence-shattering side-eye that you just threw him.

If this man doesn't shut up-

"Right-" Leon cleared his throat, his expression changing back to his usual resting one as he looked back ahead, changing the gear to reverse as he backed out of the parking spot. Not even a minute with you and he could already tell you were going to be a blast to be around. You were the complete opposite of Ashley. And as much as he preferred a quiet atmosphere, he'd rather take his chances with Ashley all over again.

Some silence had passed between the two of you once you hit the road and left the base behind, the only sounds being the humming of the car and the wind outside. The drive was scenic in a way, if it were not for the situation at hand. But watching the trees and landscape blur by through the car window almost reminded you of the drives you went on with your father and sister, transporting you back to the road trips where the three of you would listen to the radio while fighting over who's turn it was to play the next song.

You missed your father softly singing along to his music that you at one time used to be annoyed by, your sister and you referring to his taste in music as the "Ancient Ballads of Babylon". And oh how he used to get defensive over it, calling it the "good stuff unlike todays junk", though he was never able to hide back the smile from your little slanders. What you would do to listen to his music again, to be in his truck sitting in the passenger seat reading a book before crawling to the backseat to take a nap with your sister, her head resting on your lap while your rested yours against the window.

Due to how quiet you were, Leon couldn't help but to glance over in your direction to make sure you were still alive, noticing the way you had become lost in thought, your gaze seeming to reach miles away. His eyes traced down to the subtle movement of your hands, watching how your fingers toyed with the dainty beaded bracelet that sat at your right wrist. There were a couple white beads situated together, printed with small black letters that formed a word, or rather a name, but before he could have a chance at reading what it was, you had noticed him looking, causing you to swiftly pull the sleeve of your loose sweater over your wrist. The sudden movement from you had caused Leon to clear his throat as he snapped his head back to the road, as if embarrassed at being caught before clearing his throat. "So uh, are you some bigwig's daughter? The president had requested you specifically."

The president? There was still a president? Well shit.

"Look. I'm just trying to know what I'm dealing with here." Leon put his hand up in defense after the annoyed expression you gave him.

You shook your head lightly at his behavior, heaving out a released breath as you propped your arm up once more, resting your head against your hand and discretely wiping away the tear that was starting to fall down the corner of your eye.

"Doctor huh. What are you, UCLA grad? You strike me as a LA city kind of girl-"

"Harvard." You interrupted.

"So you do speak." Leon shot you a quick smirk, surprised at your sudden input before staring back at the road. "Thought it was just me but....looks like I struck a nerve here. Sooo......Harvard huh? You must be pretty brainy then, surviving a med school like that."

"............" Dear god please.

"You know, you look a little young to be a doctor."

Geez, if that isn't the first time you've heard that one. You wished the man would just shut up and focus on the road. You swore that if he somehow ended up sending the car off a cliff you were going to personally strangle the blond yourself. Actually, come to think of it, if he talked any more you just might take the wheel and drive off a cliff yourself.

"I take it you're not much of a talker." Leon commented on the way you so obviously tried to ignore him. Jesus, did he rub you the wrong way or what. Or was it just the Ivy League attitude? He had heard the talk amongst his old colleagues back at the station about the Ivy League folk that would sometimes come through the town. Overly-educated and stuck up, some of the officers would call them.....if you consider calling someone overly-educated an insult. Perhaps this was what they meant? Seems like you didn't want to even be associated within the same proximity as him.

Rolling your eyes, you twisted around in your seat to reach for your bag, pulling it onto your lap and opening up the zipper before digging into the contents inside.

Leon watched you with curiosity, opening his mouth to ask just what it was you were up to before seeing you pull out a pair of headphones and a portable CD player that looked like you stole right out of the 90s. Keeping the backpack on your lap, you slipped the headphones onto your head, pressing play on the device before pulling your feet up onto the seat and turning towards the window so that your back faced the man in the driver seat.

Leon couldn't help but to shake his head with a light chuckle, taking this as a sign to shut the hell up and let you be in your own little bubble. Maybe you’re just shy. Or maybe you just don’t like him. Or maybe you’ve been through a lot. Who knows.

You watched the trees once more, listening to the song that played through the speakers of your headphones, Fade Into You by Mazzy Star, letting the soft tunes soothe your nerves. And as much as you tried to force yourself to stay awake in order to stay alert for your own safety, you couldn’t help the drowsiness that took over you. The music playing through your headphones, the blur of the trees out the window, and the subtle vibration of the moving car only added to that effect. And slowly, you let yourself slip, your eyelids growing heavy as you finally shut your eyes.

The drive had felt like hours for Leon, but he didn't mind as much. In fact, this was sort of relaxing, just driving, listening to music he enjoyed as it played softly from the radio, the volume lowered as means to not disturb you. This mission was turning out to be less stressful than the others. Or maybe he shouldn't speak too soon.

The young agent would occasionally find himself glancing over in your direction, perhaps to make sure you were okay and weren't dead. He had a bad habit of making sure the people under his care were alive and well and not breathing their last breath….if you would call that a bad habit. As much as this man hides it behind his cold exterior, I am positive he is just as panicky as the rest of us.

Your lack of movement had started to worry the blond, seeing that you have stayed in that position for a couple hours now as he began to wonder just what the hell you could have been doing the whole time in order to stay in the same exact position. (He has his himbo moments.) But the slow shifting of your form had relieved the young man as he watched you turn over on your other side to now face him, getting a glimpse of your closed lids behind the strands of your loose hair that almost covered the look of calm on your face, hearing the small moan that came from your chest in your state of sleep as you shifted around while your brows furrowed together at the center in a look that he could only describe as discomfort from your curled up position on the passenger seat.

One thing he had noticed though, if he listened close enough, he could hear the slight and faint whistle of the air rushing through your nostrils each time you breathed, a sign that usually meant a deviated septum. He didn’t know why, but that tiny detail had somehow set his mind at ease…something so insignificant…so barely noticeable unless you really paid attention to it…almost as if it had made you more human. And the thought of it was comforting to him.

As he looked over your sleeping form, he couldn’t help but to take note of the details that made you: of your hair that looked as if it had not been brushed through, or the dark circles under your eyes, or the little bump on your nose at the bridge, or the faint signs of hyperpigmentation and small little acne scars that lined certain areas of your face, or the light dust of freckles on your nose that were barely visible unless you really took a closer look. Even down to your wardrobe, your oversized navy blue v-neck sweater and the white tee you wore underneath, and your loose-fitted jeans, and your worn in black doc martens. Leon did not know how to describe it, but there was something comforting about you, something that made him feel…at ease. And maybe…just maybe, this mission might not be as bad as he once thought.

Part 2?

[raayllum]

One thing I noted watching The Dragon Prince is that the intro splits the same continent in half with the elves/humans so they started with the same amount of magical animals/plants each. There’s still some magical animals the human side but their presence is far, far reduced comparatively so do you think that’s specifically because of dark magic harvesting leading to more “normal” to our eyes species dominating?

I’m fairly surprised there isn’t a visibly established livestock industry’s for magic animals too (that way say your lunar moths can be renewably hatched each year, or a sheep population equivalent kept etc).

You seem very immersed in much of the lore so thought it’d be fun to at least pose as a query.

I think there's a few different things here to consider (that we'll probably never get a definitive answer on) but this is my best guess + what we do know about how dark magic operates:

Both regular animals and magical creatures can be used for dark magic. We know this because we've seen human blood be used in a couple of spells, Claudia puts grasshopper goop in Soren's mouth (2x08), and then later uses the deer in its entirety to undo Soren's paralysis.

That said, it does seem that magical creatures are more potent and preferred for dark magic spells. This makes sense - while you can use the life essence of anyone/anything for dark magic, creatures with magic inside them (any arcanum) are inevitably going to have more to "squeeze out" than a non magical creature would.

With that in mind, I think canon gives us a few answers and subtextual clues.

The most important one is something Viren refers to 2x05 (which has haunted me ever since), in which he cites that, "After centuries of fighting amongst ourselves, the five human kingdoms finally found balance, an era of peace." The Book 2 novelization gives a little more information about this period on conflict, explaining that "The first summit of the Pentarchy had been held centuries ago, and it had brought an end to the Mage Wars and created the modern order of the human kingdoms" (Ch17).

We don't know, of course, if this is precisely the same period of time. Maybe by helping to imprison Aaravos (and presumably disposing of the last king of Katolis), the Orphan Queen likewise helped put an end to the mage wars. Maybe she only came on the scene centuries after the mage wars! Who knows. "Held centuries ago" could mean three, which matches up with the Orphan Queen / Aaravos imprisonment timeline (and no more mister startouch elf preying on mages) or it could go back closer to 700-800 years. We'll just have to wait and see if we ever get more details!

Regardless, the Mage Wars and the fact they were likely fuelled by dark magic, since it was humans fighting amongst themselves, might answer why we see so few (known) magical creatures in the Human Kingdoms other than maybe glow toads: mages went after the most potent magical ingredients during the fighting, and reduced those numbers to virtually nonexistent or extinct.

I would imagine before the Mage Wars / even before Xadia split, maybe, more magical creatures were held and domesticated as livestalk. (Elves certainly do keep some animals as pets, such as Janai's flying hot cat, though I'd expect something like a Moonstrider to maybe have evolved as a sort of hunting companion.) However, humans on the eastern side and elves on the western side were likely forced to abandon any farms / communities they had in regards to animal care when the Exile / Schism happened. Information and resources might've been lost, as animals on one side of the continent were likely different compared to others, although some humans (who already lived in the west) and some elves (who already lived in the east) wouldn't have had to have moved.

That said, I think the simplest and shortest answer is just that there's not a lot of mages within TDP's world. For each group of people, we see a lot more warriors or diplomats than mages and they don't seem to regularly be employed in the military of kingdom we've seen, Sunfire or Pentarchy troops or otherwise. We can also guess that in the Pentarchy due to the specificity of the ingredients needed, sometimes, that Katolis by virtue of being closest to the Border would be primed to have the most dark mages and dark mage traffic / travellers (although I've HC'd that Evenere due to its isolation has a fair bit of lingering magic more than say Del Bar or Duren). But due to the amount of knowledge and ingredients required to seemingly do most dark magic spells, as well as the toll it takes on the body, I think it makes sense that most people wouldn't have the interest, access, or ability to pursue that kind of path when there's plenty of others that are less gruelling / easier

Magic is everywhere, and small pieces of magic (like Ruthari's moon opals) are everywhere, but outside of the specific skillsets of each primal (Moonshadow illusion spells and forgery, maybe cooking, forgery and healing for Sunfire elves) it doesn't seem like magic is something they readily depend on for food or livestock in their day to day lives. And if that's not the case for the majority in Xadia (only used in times of crisis, etc), I can see that need plummeting in the Human Kingdoms simply because it takes a lot more time/energy to maintain than might be necessarily utilized because of the low demand

This was all long winded speculation and hopefully mostly coherent. If you're interested in more deep dive worldbuilding thoughts I'd really recommend some of @kradogsrats stuff as it's great and a lot more eloquent / all encompassing tbh

[kuiperror]

TELL ME ABOUT THE CHIPMUNKS LORE. pretty please.

1st thank you for indulging me (even tho i asked lol) 2nd.maybe dont open this unless you want to get blasted with useless information + unimportant yet dearly held opinions + offtopic addendums + true sincerity. i tried to hold back guys im sorry. hold onto your hats im getting fucking crazy in here

firstly ill summarize and say that my "version" of the story of aatc [1] is basically just an idealized version of the "lore" the 1960s version gave us (i say "lore" in quotations bc there was. none lol).

now a lot of my ideas concerning the "lore" of story are interconnected to my opinions about the actual application of aatc media in real life . for instance, the story is set, vaguely, around the late 1950s - early to mid 1960s, like the irl "run" of the original chipmunks records. i personally believe that, as a real media franchise, aatc really has no reason to exist within our modern world with the technology we have today [2] so aatc as a fictional story is affected similarly. along with that, when the story is played out in the context of 1960s america it creates a richer thematical experience as the themes are compounded and expanded on. [3] a lot of the themes that i consider Essencial to the story deal with acceptance of differences and familial love and questioning of ones own humanity and sense of belonging, both within oneself and within the family unit and within larger society, and conservative 1960s suburban america is just a rlly good backdrop to place all of that. so basically i believe in the Contextuality of 1960s aatc and i love to allude to those contexts within the story.

another thing about my version is that i allow it to be inconsistent both with itself or with real life, just cuz it doesn't really have to be. for instance, this story has a floating timeline and i consider the chipmunk's ages to range from 8 - 10 years old— theodore is 8, alvin is 9, simon is 10. (simon is the oldest in the 1960s era idc who says what, i will die on this hill) however at the same time i think it would make the most sense for them to come from the same litter, which would make them all the same age. so i consider the chipmunks to be different ages while also considering they were born at the same time. i do have an in-world resolution for this discrepancy [4] but you get what im saying: my version of events is a little fictional story for me and me only so inconsistencies like that can be brushed over . mainly so i don't think too deeply about the logistics of things (cuz i tend to do that to avoid any possible criticism cuz i am Afraid of flaw) . like i'll catch myself being like "but how does the development of a real 8yo match theodore's behavior? 🤨" and i have to tell myself "bro.. this is a fictional cartoon world ur literally talking about a talking chipmunk its Not That Serious it doesn't have to be that realistic dude" so i just say its my own little play place and i get to do what i want :)

my version of the backstory of the chipmunks is not really all there in terms of external and internal consistency, but it mostly resembles the 1980s series' backstory where dave finds the chipmunks on his doorstep. (see [4] for entire story) i think that the months after dave took them in were honestly a p dark period for the family. i don't imagine dave had good support system and i think the mental struggle of suddenly caring for 3 incredibly strange children all the while fearing societal reactions to them (which restricted him from getting the help he needed) [5] definitely aged him. ithink hes like, early 30s when the chipmunks arrive, late 30s when the timeline "starts floating"... not as young as most (?) fans/iterations interpret him to be. i think that, before "the chipmunk song" was created, dave had raised the chipmunks for like.. 3-5ish years. what i'm saying is that dave definitely took in the chipmunks out of the kindness of his own heart and not cuz he wanted to capitalize on their singing prowess (aHEM looking at a certain movie 🤨)

also, i like to accentuate the animal-ness of the boys by taking real world information about chipmunks and applying it to them :) in general its a little bit of a pet peeve of mine when ppl just completely disregard the animal part of funny animal characters... esp with alvin and the chipmunks bc thats like. Their Whole Thing . they are chipmunks ? why do you just ignore that 😭

now i have talked a LOT about angsty stuff but i do want to make it clear that legit all this stuff is the subtext and background for interactions shown within the 1960s chipmunk media. the chipmunks are still happy kids who have fun and goof around and piss off david !! its just that they have fears and their own Issues like any real person.

so yeah! thats my chipmunk lore!! ^^ i have a whole document about my version so im definitely. fucking insane about the chipmunks. if any other aatc fans are reading this please be nice to me 😦 i feel as though i am very much a weirdo in my sandbox all alone soo dont h8 me plz :)

and just to send it off with some silly lore here are some random headcanons for each character that i have taken straight from my lore document ^^

alvin: would 100% be a leash kid . just sayin (as a former leash kid myself)

alvin: takes after david musically— when he writes his own music and makes up little songs to himself it sounds very similar to the songs dave writes. alvin doesn't recognize this but dave definitely does :,)

alvin: insecure about his height and constantly reassures himself that he will have a growth spurt when hes older

simon: loves loves LOVEs non-conventional and instrumental music! especially those set in different modes

simon: astronaut kid he loves space and wants to b an astronaut . born at just the right time B)

simon: knows better than to follow along with alvin's troublemaking + rebelliousness, occasionally tries to push back, but often is just like. fuck it we ball and goes along with it, especially if its fun ^^

theodore: LOVES the technical aspect of music + the recording process . he will tell you all about the science behind how vinyl records work unprompted.

theodore: doesnt like to sing solos as much as his brothers do bc of past childhood asthma at age 3 and also because he can not stop himself from giggling when hes singing hes just so happy :)! (THIS ONE IS CANON 💥💥💥 SOURCE: UP ON THE HOUSETOP CHRISTMAS W THE CHIPMUNKS VOL 1 ‼️)

theodore: although he is the most naive of the bunch, he is not dumb . hes just a little kid who likes being silly !

dave: before taking the chipmunks in in his early 30s he was the world's most regular guy . wrote hits for other people, continues to do that occasionally into the boys's careers

dave: literally has a song for everything . he will do everything to a beat .

dave: embroiders and cross-stitches to regulate his anger + knows how to sew really well since he has 2 make all of the boys' clothes. (CANON ⁉️😍) also it was his decision to color-code and embroider their initials onto everything they wear lmfao

FOOTNOTES (color coded for your convenience!)

[1] - in this post i refer to the media franchise as "aatc" (alvin and the chipmunks) and refer to the actual trio of characters as "the chipmunks" to avoid confusion. i just want it to be said that i personally dont like to call the media franchise "alvin & the chipmunks" on account of the whole "uuu if alvins a chipmunk why is it called alvin & the chipmunks" joke, i personally prefer to call the franchise just "the chipmunks" as it is shorter and includes the 1960s era as for most of it the franchise went by several different iterations (if we lived in a perfect world the franchise would still be called "david seville and the chipmunks" . just saying)

[2] - back in the early 60s, combining pitch-shifted vocals and character-acting was an innovative technique that took real time, effort, knowledge and skill to achieve. but nowadays not only is the concept no longer fresh but literally anyone can create their own "chipmunk" vocals in a matter of minutes. the story & characters (also nostalgia) are really the only thing keeping the aatc franchise going, esp since that's what more modern iterations of aatc focus on rather than the actual music.

[3] - in the media outside of their albums (the alvin show & the dell comics, specifically) there is always an underlying theme of comparison between david and the boys and the 1960s concept of a nuclear american family. its not exactly an "Intentional" theme, it more or less comes with the (irl) time-period the original aatc media was created in. the seville household is, inherently, a subversion of the ideal of the "perfect family" that households were compared against and strived to be, even at the expense of their own comfort, ideals, safety, etc. this subversion can be played into for drama and angst in a richer, more plausible way than it would be if the story were set in a more modern time period, u know? but yeah i believe that, as a fictional story, aatc shouldn't be divorced from the context of the attitudes and values of what mainstream society thought a family should be in the 1960s.

[4] - essentially in my version of events, dave was given no information about the boys and he basically made up their ages. when david found them in his backyard, they were oversized chipmunks as large as your average cat. they all sort of acted like young human children, but they were a lot more... chipmunk than child. they could only babble— but the sounds were recognizable as human speech. dave was obviously freaked out and resolved to keep an eye on them whenever they were in his backyard. he really only resolved to take them in due to the fact that he could literally see them change throughout a single week. how i imagine the chipmunks' biology is that they are a mixture of human and chipmunk (not literally, mind you, more as a physiological, figurative thing) so they have the intelligence and development of a human while still doing certain things like undertaking hibernation, wanting to forage and stockpile and burrow, things like that. however their growth rate is incredibly fucked up, going from the actual size of a newborn baby chipmunk to the size of a human toddler within like, a year. with this rapid growth also comes more human-like intelligence. once they were actually living in his house, dave knew there was something human about them with these creatures so he couldn't just let them return to the wild, especially since they were becoming more and more dependent on him and more and more human-like as days passed... i definitely think there was a moment of pure clarity for dave where he realized like. wow, that's a child. these things are children. and they are relying on me to provide for them. they are absolutely attached to me by now. and i think i might actually be attached to them too. and thats when he decided to name them and truly care for them like any other human child. overtime the chipmunks slowed their growth rate and matched their developing rate with the same as an average human. the chipmunks don't remember much of their early childhood and nothing can really be disputed so davids word of what happened is gospel. And yeah thats their backstory basically. if you want more on dave's view point on the chipmunks and their fucked up growth process, you can read this post here :)

[5] - he overcame this, of course. he did not want the boys to think that he was ashamed of them. public school was a different story, however, and the boys were more-or-less in a state of homeschooling before the release of "the chipmunk song." knowing that most of their peers would actually look up to them rather than down upon them extremely reassured him.

[thoughtsandbones]

Revelations and Misconceptions

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!MedicDoc OC (codename: Blue) 💀💙

WARNINGS: Mention of alcohol, war, profanity, medical inaccuracies and just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

PLEASE reblog and like! Hope folks are enjoying the series, I am building up characters and plots, cos I have a lot ideas and just been enjoying writing :D

Song inspo: Sonne - Rammstein

A/N: Flashbacks are getting messed up when I am indenting them and I am getting lots of errors when publishing the work, please bare with some mistakes and spelling issues.

RAMC - Royal Army Medical Corps

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline... (Also I'm ignoring the OG Shepherd betrayal and keeping in line the one with the new timeline..)

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7 and PART 8

Part 9

LIABILITY?! FUCKING LIABILITY!! The thought rang through your head as you walked back to the training course and hand in the pistols and the cleaning kit.

You head back our from the base and catch Price and Ghost walking out from the garage, you hear Price call out your name but you don't respond, you just keep walking ahead to Building 2, quickening your pace to trying to increase the distance between you and Price and that masked menace.

Once inside you sprint up to the infirmary and see Soap waiting outside, leaning back against the infirmary door, head lowered with one leg bent against the door. Soap lifts his head up as he hears you approach. You take the key out of your pocket and Soap moves away from the door, giving a smile to you.

"Hey lass-" He begins

"It's Dr Kaur" You snap at him unlocking the door giving him a cold stare. Ghost reignited the diminished anger and you felt like you were on fire with rage.

Soap was shocked. Did I really annoy you that much last night?

"I'm sorry about last night" Soap said, following you into the infirmary, watching you go round the table and sit. The same look on your face that you had earlier in the mess hall. Soap felt nervous for first time in a long time.

Leaning back in the chair you take a deep breath. You look back at Soap with regret. You didn't mean to snap at him.

"No, I'm sorry sergeant." You say "I've been in a shit mood and I should not have snapped at you like I did just now" You add, sighing leaning back further in the chair.

Soap stepped closer, your face now relaxed. You gesture at the empty seat opposite you, and Soap sits, leaning close to you over the desk.

"Yer alright Doc- tor Kaur?" He stammered

You smile, "Doc is fine" you say. "Just a shit day."

Soap nods.

"How's the head" You ask

"Been better" Soap responded

"Still drinking water?"

"Aye" he says, pulling out a steel flask from his pocket of his fatigues.

"Good"

"I did not mean to say those things or offend you you last night Doc" Soap said

You smile, huffing a small laugh. The rage simmered down within you.

"So you don't think I'm pretty?" You say, widening your eyes, leaning forwards resting your head on your right hand.

Soap felt his cheeks flush has he washed your expression change to this doe-eyed look.

"I err-- what?" Soap said stammering. Seems like Gaz, Price and Ghost missed out a crucial piece of information from the events of last night.

Laughing aloud at the flustered look taken ahold of Soap.

"Last night you said:" you clear your throat

"Yer real pretty" you say mimicking Soap's Scottish accent. You laugh again, the rage now washing away.

"Ah Jesus" Soap says burying his head in his hands.

"It's all good, don't worry. We all say shit when we're drunk" You say reassuringly.

"It was the first time I tried sambuca since I was a young lad" Soap chuckled, lifting his head up. You were beaming, your smile showed off a slight dimple in your right cheek.

"Also, I don't want you to think I'm er..." Soap said, struggling to say the words correctly. "homophobic" he whispered

You looked at Soap shocked. "Soap, you are not. Most men are surprised when they find out I've been with a woman"

Soap was still looking at with concern in his eyes.

"How yer feeling after that Dr Jones fella?" Soap asked

You shrug your shoulders.

"Target course helped" You say, omitting the details of what Price and Ghost said. You didn't want to get angry again.

"Aye, you're a good shot" Soap said nodding at you. "Been impressed with your skills, even after all these years" he adds

You look back, pondering if he also thought you'd be a 'liability' in the field.

"Hmmm" you mumbled

On your desk, lies the black notebook. Suddenly you remember the tasks that lay within, mostly importantly, the 141 were going on a mission in two days and you needed to make sure their med kits and that they were fit enough to be deployed.

"Sergeant, you leave in two days right?" You say

"Aye, to Urzikstan" Soap says

"How's your med kit?" You ask

Soap lifted his head, pondered at the thought.

"Think it needs re-filling" He responded.

"Is Captain Price calling a general meeting before deployment?"

"Aye, along with Laswell"

You nod along. "When?" You ask, reaching for the black notebook, and flicking to a new page.

"Tomorrow afternoon I believe, Laswell gets in tomorrow morning so guessing sometime tomorrow." Soap says. "You comin' with us?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.

At that same moment, Price walks in, followed by Ghost who stood by the door.

"No, apparently I am a liability" You say coldly, staring straight at Ghost. Soap turned around and saw Price and Ghost and gave them a nod.

"Hari" Price said "That was a suggestion" He added

"That I'm a liability or getting the active duty status?" You ask, flickering your eyes between Ghost and Price.

"Yer allowing her to be on active duty?" Soap quipped turning to Price

"No.." Price said sternly, looking at Soap and then to you.

Ghost stood in the doorway, staring at the ground whilst he could feel the daggers you were giving him. A part of him regretted what he said, but knows that it is for the best.

Soap looked at you and then at Ghost, the looking tension flickered and began to rise within the atmosphere.

Your eyes met Ghosts. Was he even going to say anything at all? Briefly looking at your watch then back to Ghost, who continued to stare back, he finally broke his gaze, looking at his shoes. You look at your watch again. 21 seconds..

Price sighed heavily, noticing the staring contests, turned to Ghost and gave him a stern look. Soap smirked slightly; something happened between you two surely..

"Soap says Laswell is coming in tomorrow, I'd like to part of the debrief prior to the mission. I also need to check the med kits." You say whilst jotting down the notes in your notebook.

"Debrief is at 2pm in BR.04" Price said finally easing the tension. "You will meet Kate Laswell, Station Chief" Price added

Looking up, you nod and smile "Looking forward to it sir"

"Do yer need to do medical overviews Doc?" Soap says

"In what sense?" You say looking up to Soap, witnessing a sheepish grin appear.

"Check our vitals and all? Mission prep eh?" Soap glees

"Good shout Soap, routine health check ups tomorrow morning" Price concluded nodding to Soap, who nods back and then turns to Ghost, who was still in the doorway.

Ghost glared at Price and Soap, he then looked at you, continuing to write in your journal.

"Right then. Let's go lads, we as a team, have lot to do before our debrief tomorrow" Price says looking at the three members in the room.

"I shall send an email to you all this evening at what times I'll do these.. health checks.." You wearily say looking at Price and Soap.

Price smiles at you, turns to leave, Ghost swiftly left as Price moved towards the door. Soap sat in the chair looking at you.

He leans forwards and lets out a sigh, you look up from your notebook and weakly smile at Soap.

"Hope yer alrigh' Doc" Soap asks, eyes gleaming with concern. You could tell he was being genuine, and not at all cold and glacier cold like Ghost...

"Yeah, I'll be good Soap" You say, trying to smile.

Soap looks back and nods, he finally gets up.

'For the record, I don't think yer a liability, I think yer'd be great, being with us on missions" Soaps says and grins and gives a wink.

A light laugh leaves your lips. You watch on as Soap leaves the infirmary, the door remaining open.

You flick through to the end of your notebook, beneath a set of numbers, you jot down 21 seconds. You scan the column, ranging from 56 seconds to 14 seconds and to 1 minute. The amount of time Lieutenant Ghost has been staring at you.

It's understandable this guy has trust issues, but surely he has to have a valid no bullshit reason for not wanting you on missions.

You look up, and as the thought flashes through your nerves within the grey of your brain, eyes widening at the revelation.

Unless he knows about what happened in Siberia ...

[rawwkfingers]

The Deadly Assassin

I've always found it both very funny and also extremely fitting for the show that one of the most iconic landmark serials of the entire Classic era has such a lame name

Introducing the 13 regeneration limit, the Matrix, our first real in-depth look at Time Lord society, I think it's fair to say this one serial is second only to The Daleks in terms of how much it's shaped the lore of Doctor Who.

Unfortunately, like a lot of these extremely iconic serials of the past, I kind of didn't like it? Or rather, I enjoyed it but I don't think it met the expectations the plot sets up

The first half was great, though I wish it'd been more clear that the Doctor wasn't the one who shot the President in the first episode. But the intrigue of finally getting to learn more about the Time Lords is just too irresistible to not get enraptured with. And a murder mystery where the Doctor has to prove they were framed is such a perfect set up to explore their culture! Who knows what wild and weird things he'll uncover, what advances in technology he'll technobabble about, how these god-like beings who can control time itself spend their days. Sure, in that first episode and a half they did seem to just, be humans, with no mention of regeneration outside of a plastic surgery joke and a cheesy reporter, but we still have two whole episodes to go to see more

Aaaand then we spend essentially two entire episodes worth of runtime in a simulated reality that looked exactly like Earth where the Doctor plays out a Most Dangerous Game scenario??? And not even with the actual Master, but just his lackey whose surprise reveal was painfully obvious

Dont get me wrong, I am a sucker for a MDG plot, but this was not the time or place for that. There's the inherent mysticism of the fact that this took place within the Matrix, sure, but ultimately that was an entire episode and change devoted to scenes that could have happened with any bad guy, on any planet

And the way the Time Lords were depicted was just plain disappointing. In their previous appearances, they've always seemed all-powerful. Whether its the time-stop shenanigans from War Games, their ability to breach the Doctor's timeline in Three Doctors, or forcing the Doctor to land on Skaro in Genesis, they've always been Above Humanity.

Here, if you changed some things around this could have just been modern-day British nobility

Which has always been the point, I get that. The Time Lords and their archaic obsession with non-interference has always been meant to be an allegory for British politics and the conservatism inherent in it. But at the very least, have there be a spark of what makes them so interesting! You can do the whole "lying about events for a more politically palatable outcome" and the power struggles while still having them be the space wizards they're meant to be

Having the Doctor and the Master be literally the only ones who can understand Time Lord science was just such a baffling decision, and having the Time Lords straight up not know what the Eye of Harmony was made no sense at all.

On a plot level, the serial was good but I just cant help feeling extremely disappointed that our first deep dive into Gallifrey was, this

[wyyvernn]

The Same Stars in our Skies - Adrian (Alucard) Tepes x Modern!reader - pt.1

A/n: friendly reminder that I do not do requests as I am not very good with keeping up with them, thank you for understanding!

Reader will always be implied as gender neutral unless stated otherwise!

Part 2 of this series

Part 3 of this series

_________

"You...gods, it IS you."

"I'm sorry...I haven't the faintest who you are."

That first conversation between you and Alucard from months ago still stuck in your head like a stain you couldn't get rid of.

To think that it was the appearance of your comfort character gracing your sights when you first landed right in the centre of his front porch. You couldn't believe your eyes.

He had the same aureate gaze, long golden hair shaped in curls down his back and his height was just as towering as the animation implied him to be!

And though it tore you apart inside deeply, he still had an expression of defeat on his features. You would've guessed that the current timeline was somewhere after his betrayal, judging not only by his sadness but the two corpses you had convinced him to remove a month ago. Those two left an aura of death outside his castle, but it was already a huge improvement.

Alucard was curious about your previous life, of your origins and what kind of world you were raised in as opposed to his. The technology intrigued him most of all - you predicted that easily seeing as he was a wonderful man of science. It felt natural for him to want to get to know more about how things worked there.

Phones seemed like a perfect start. Versatile in their creation, and quite simply one of the most portable devices of your modern world. You explained how everyone used one in daily life for tasks, no matter how big or trivial.

"You mean to tell me this odd little box can wake me up in the morning with an annoying alarm?" Alucard cocked his brow, looking your phone over as you nodded in amusement, "That sounds dreadful."

A chuckle left your lips, "Trust me, it's not that bad. It's very useful actually. How about one day when you need to wake up early for an important date?"

"I would rather sleep in and be spared from the company of people."

"Okay, maybe I can relate to that."

Adrian laughed along with you. He was still inspecting the apps on your phone and gestured to a camera feature on the screen.

"How about this?"

"That would be a camera," you explained, liking where this was going.

"I see...and what does it do?"

Placing a finger to your lips, you pondered on whether or not Alucard would like this next part.

"Here, let me show you."

You shifted closer to him on the couch, gently taking the device from his hands. Your thumb grazed the app and the camera feature opened, revealing two faces on screen, one stunned and the other laughing in mirth.

"How...how are we in the device?"

"Here, smile!" You giggled, aiming the lense from a distance so the shot captured both of you perfectly.

Alucard stared in awe at the photo, "Interesting, so this 'phone' can also capture a moment in the present?"

You nodded once more, loving his reaction, "Pretty much, that and more."

There was a sudden silence in the air. You were wondering what Alucard was thinking until he turned to you.

"Would it be alright to use this feature to capture moments like these? I mean to preserve these memories we have together."

There's a deep happiness you can't contain from within as your cheeks rise with your smile.

"You mean that?"

"Well, only if you would allow it of course, you don't have to-"

"That would really mean a lot to me, Alucard. Thank you."

He shared your smile, cheekbones glowing with sincerity as he nodded.

Slowly but not unpleasantly, he was getting used to you being around, getting used to filling that empty hole in his heart left by his wounds. Again, and hopefully soon, he would feel love with another from a distant timeline.

[silyabeeodess]

Do you have any hcs about the Totems or the Book of Prophecy in FusionFall?

The first few bullets are pretty long and can’t be compiled easily into a couple paragraphs for an opening, so I’ll just keep everything below the cut:

A while back in another set of headcanons, I mentioned the possibility of some alien visiting Earth long ago to warn the planet about Fuse in-advance. While I still think it can work given that aliens do canonically visit us present-day in the game and the news and the ability/material to create the totems would have to come from somewhere off-world, I do have another idea as well. I will say this now: I don't think Fuse visited Earth at some point previously given how close he was to taking it over before we players travelled back to the past with blueprints for the nanos. However, if we take time-travel and the wormholes from the mission “Messages Across Time” into consideration, there's a lot more we can work with:  

One interesting thing about the totems is that we find several familiar cartoon characters depicted on them.  What’s interesting about this though is that they aren’t CN’s original characters, but rather some of Hanna-Barbera’s characters such as Fred Flintstone, Top Cat, and--more importantly for what I’m about to get into--George Jetson.  Hanna-Barbera characters such as Scooby Doo have been featured alongside CN originals during the CN City era, and they also have appeared in cameos like Yogi Bear and Boo-Boo Bear in GAOBAM.  It’s also worth noting that one important location tied to the totems, the ruins, is called the Hani-Baba (Hanna-Barbera) Temple.  Therefore, it’s likely safe to say that these characters exist within the world of FusionFall even if we never interact with them directly.  It’s possible that these characters took the information from Fuse’s invasion and planted that knowledge in ancient times so present-day Earth would stand a better chance than whatever occurred in their own timeline.  We know time-travel exists for them because of crossovers between The Jetsons and The Flintstones like “The Flintstones: The Rescue of Dino and Hoppy” and “The Jetsons Meet the Flintstones.”  This would explain why we see such characters across multiple eras featured on the totems.  Someone from the Jetson’s futuristic time period (It’s 2062, according to promotional sources for their show, but we can make some leeway in either direction since the creators couldn’t have known where we’d be technologically in modern times and FusionFall itself also has a futuristic setting.) could’ve travelled to the Flintstone’s Stone Age and established the totems then.   

While there is also a possibility of multiverse travel/communication, with the name for the temple coming from the name of the Hanna-Barbera universe, I feel this is less likely for two reasons.  The first reason is that, aside from Professor Paradox’s appearance in the game, the difference in missions from its original version and the Academy update would show that much of FusionFall’s attention is on a single, linear timeline: As players, our actions in the Future and jump back to the Past do massively change events. The second reason is that the multiverse idea wouldn’t explain how the totems themselves were created, what materials they’re made from, or how said materials were obtained.  

So, here’s a balance between my initial ideas and what we’ve gathered in the previous bullets.  Aliens have visited Earth to help in the fight against Fuse: We see it with the Plumbers and the anonymous visitors in their UFO hovering over the Haunted Ridge, the ones who gave us an off-world ore that can fend off Fuse’s infection via a crashed meteor in the “SACT Attack” mission arc.  This ore is never mentioned again, but given its similar attributes to the totems; that the same fusion monsters, Alpha Arachnids, both try to tamper with the meteoric ore and rip out pages the Book of Prophecy; and that none of Earth’s materials have been known to defend against fusion matter, the totems are likely made from that ore specifically.  In modern times, all anyone knew how to do with it was place the raw ore in separate locations, as seen when Agent Greenberg has us place them around the Haunted Ridge mining camp.  By the time anyone figured out how to draw out its full strength against fusion matter, similar to the nanos’ creation, it was too late. Therefore, just like us, someone must’ve gone back in time to create the totems and spread them all across Earth before Fuse could arrive. (Why they’d choose Earth’s ancient civilization instead of something more recent is up in the air, unless they something went wrong with their own jump through time, again, like us.)  These were likely some of the Hanna-Barbera characters, which the ancient people listened to and revered enough to carve their likenesses into the totems themselves.  Their knowledge would then be added to the Book of Prophecy, passed from generation to generation to prepare ours for the invasion those fellow time-travelers also experienced and give whoever possessed the book the key to activating the totems.  It’s not a traditional “prophecy,” as an ancient civilization would assume, but a retelling of events experienced by those from the future.       

It’s important to note that the power to activate the totems (referred to as both the Power of Prophecy and the forces of Destiny) came from the book itself and not the player, so it doesn’t seem to be derived from imaginary energy (IE) or anyone with IE could’ve managed the job.  In the mission “Head to Totem (Part 1 of 5),” the player “absorbs” the Book of Prophecy’s spine when trying to activate the first totem.  This and the fact that the power is somewhat easily transferred from one person to another--given how Billy stole it, how Hex would’ve stolen it if Billy hadn’t already, and how it was transferred to the Pillow of Common Sense and then given back to us with Mandy’s help--seems to be an intentional security measure.  Something like a book is easily destroyed, as seen with the Alpha Arachnids’ attempt.  Meanwhile, if that power is able to move from one host to the next, it’s much more difficult for Fuse to track down and get rid of. This would also explain why the runes that allowed the player to activate the totems were hidden along the spine instead of in the book’s pages, as well as explain the existence of the Rock of Transference that Hex used, which is located at the Hani-Baba Temple.   

“The Power of Prophecy (Part 3 of 4)” reveals that there were many more totems spread across the globe than the ones we encountered.  However, with Juniper Lee’s and the Magic Tree’s help, the player is able to amplify that power and activate all of the remaining totems at once.  This and Hex’s expertise would hint at the power’s origins being something more akin to magic or ancient technomancy than a science.  

As for the Book of Prophecy itself, ancient books didn’t always have spines as we know them today: Some were just clasped together with metal or leather, and wooden boards were used only as early the 6th century.  In order for the book to have a spine more similar to what we know, it would have to be at least that old and/or the time-travelers would’ve also had to pass on the knowledge of more modern-day bookbinding.

Furthermore, the book wasn’t written solely for the sake of beating Fuse.  Maybe that could’ve been the initial purpose, but it was twisted later on.  In “The Book of Prophecy” mission arc, the love potion May has us create is from its pages.  This makes it clear that, over time, the book was used less for the purpose of containing “prophecies” and instead used more as a general book on magic.  This also further addresses how it’s been passed to various people across the years, with some of those people having ill intentions.  

“The Book of Prophecy (Part 3 of 5)” reveals that Marie Kanker got it “from a graveyard at midnight” before it ended up in May’s hands.  What she was doing in said graveyard or whether or not she had to... do some digging, to get the book is probably better left unknown... 

Hex’s discovery of the Rock of Transference likely means that more knowledge exists elsewhere in the world regarding the specifics of the book, totems, and Hani-Baba Temple.  

Give the temple’s overall importance to the totems, it’s highly likely that they originated in its general area.  

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

epiphany

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death]

word count: 3168

Age: 21 Year: Sep. 2015 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"So I was thinking, godparents," Bucky spoke up. He and Natasha were currently finishing setting up the baby's nursery in their new apartment.

They had found a nice two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, much to Natasha's dismay. Bucky thought it was the perfect place to start their new little family. It was also about a 20 to 30 minutes drive to Bucky's work and University campus. His mom and stepdad had even offered to help them out financially for a bit, just as long as Bucky continued on his path to graduate with his Masters in Music Technology in the Spring.

Bucky had managed to finish his bachelor's and masters program in just the span of 4 years, a whole year earlier than originally planned. He was proud of himself, if there's one thing he hadn't screwed up yet, it was his education. He had fully devoted himself to his education the last four years and it clearly paid off. He had also managed to get a good paying job at a studio as an engineer. He had his whole future all planned out, the pregnancy might've been a curve ball at the beginning but with the help of his family and therapist, he was handling it all so well.

"Oh you don't need to worry about the godparents, I have it all figured out already," Natasha tells him as she folds baby clothes, "I picked Abigail and Dylan."

Natasha on the other hand had decided to put her education on hold. Deciding she wanted to be a stay at home mom, Bucky constantly made sure that that's what she wanted. And she insisted every time that she was "made to be a stay at home mom". So Bucky had to reluctantly allow her to make that decision. 

Which was one of the reasons why his parents had offered to help out for at least the first year or two, they had known their son was already stressing about finances, and trying to respect Natasha's decision. They figured two years would be a good enough time for the couple to build up their savings.

Bucky didn't like the fact that his parents were helping out with money, but he knew him and Nat wouldn't have been able to make it just on is current income alone. At least not until after he graduated, his boss had already promised a raise once he graduated, but that wasn't until May and the baby was due in the next two weeks.  He promised to pay his parents back every cent they gave him, but they told him to just focus on being a good father.

"Abigail and Dylan?" He questioned.

"Yeah," she shrugged her shoulders.

"The same Abigail and Dylan that showed up to the baby shower high, and proceed to get drunk, because and I quote 'babies are so boring'. That Abigail and Dylan?"

"Come on James, they were just joking, plus baby showers aren't necessarily the most fun thing in the world," she rolled her eyes.

"Can we at least each choose one godparent?" He suggested, "You can have Abigail as the Godmother and I can choose The Godfather."

"Like Sam?"

"No, not Sam. Steve," Bucky tells her.

"Oh, then no," she simply said, turning her back to him to continue putting clothes away.

"What's your problem?" Bucky asks annoyed, finally having enough of her attitude, "This entire pregnancy you've been against everything I've suggested."

"Hey, you got to choose Brooklyn," she turned around pointing her finger at him.

"Yeah because I couldn't fucking afford Manhattan Natasha," he stressed, trying not to raise his voice at her, "You didn't want to know the gender of the baby? Fine. You get to name the baby? Fine. You choose the color scheme of the nursery, fine. You choose the hospital. You choose the apartment. God damn Nat, I haven't done a single thing but pay for everything."

"And I thank-you for that," she rolled her eyes.

"But you don't," he shakes his head in disbelief over her reactions, "You haven't thanked me once. I get that you're carrying our child, and I'm appreciative of that. But god damn Natasha, show me some respect. Show my family some respect!

"You didn't thank my mom, Rebecca, or Keith for everything they've done for you. For us. And I can't keep making up excuses to defend you," he raises his voice a little bit.

"If this relationship is ever going to work, you need to be respectful. You need to stop being so selfish. I get this isn't easy for you, but trust me, this isn't easy for me either. But I agreed to do this. I am stepping up. I want to be a part of my child's life. And I want us to be together and be family," he calms down, "But if you continue to act this way. I won't stay in this relationship."

"You're just going to abandon us?" Natasha asks grabbing her belly, suddenly realizing the reality of the situation.

"No, I won't abandon you both. But we won't be together," he explains, "I will always be in my child's life. I will always be there for them. I'm not going to put my child through the same thing I went through growing up. I promised myself I would never do that."

"So if that means that you and I break up, then so be it Natasha, I'll do it," he tells her, "My child will not grow up in a toxic household."

"Okay," she agrees, tears in her eyes, "I promise I will be better."

"Don't promise me Nat, just show me."

Two and a half weeks later Bucky found himself rushing an in-labor Natasha to the hospital, it was a quick k10 minute drive from their apartment. He quickly called his mom as the nurses wheeled Natasha away, with Bucky following.

Bucky's mom arrives within the next 10 minutes, as the nurses begin to prep Natasha in her hospital room.

Bucky sent a quick text to Steve and Sam, letting them know it was showtime and that he'll call them once the baby is here.

"How's Mama doing?" The doctor asked while entering the room, quickly taking her spot at the foot of the bed to examine Natasha.

"It hurts," Nat cried, as Bucky tried to soothe her.

"I know, but unfortunately you were too far dilated when you arrived, that it's too late for the epidural," the doctor softly explains, "But the good news is I feel Baby's head, so it's time to go."

Natasha looked over at Bucky, completely scared.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay."

He leaned down an placed a soft kiss to her lips, helping her relax a bit.

"Ready?" The doctor looks up at Natasha.

"Yes," Natasha nodded, grabbing a hold of Bucky and his mom's hands on either side of her.

10 minutes later, a soft cry was heard in the room. Bucky quickly glanced over to where the doctor was had finished pulling the baby out.

"Congrats Mommy and Daddy, it's a girl," she announced.

"A girl?" Bucky whispered in awe, tears filling his eyes. He looked over at Natasha, who looked a lot paler in color.

"Nat?" He called out for her.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her limbs went limp, and all the monitors started to go crazy.

The doctor quickly cut the umbilical chord and handed the baby off to an awaiting nurse.

"What's going on?" Bucky panicky asked.

"Get them out," the doctor told a nurse, ignoring Bucky's question.

A nurse quickly escorted Bucky and his mom out of the room.

"She's going to be okay right?" He asked his mom, tears streaming down his face.

"I don't know honey," she honestly said, wrapping her arms around her son. She never thought the first hug they shared after him becoming a father would be like this.

She continued to hold him, soothing him as she made silent prayers pleading for Natasha's safety.

10 minutes later. The same 10 minutes it took for them to arrive to the hospital. The same 10 minutes it took Natasha to bring their daughter into the world, the door opened.

Bucky quickly pulled apart from his mom to see the doctor walking out of the room.

The doctor's face was filled with sorrow. Bucky's mom immediately put her head down, already knowing the outcome.

"How is she?" Bucky asked.

"Mr. Barnes, Natasha had a postpartum hemorrhage, due to issues with her placenta," the doctor carefully explains, "Unfortunately, there was too much blood loss. We weren't able to save her. She died."

Bucky immediately broke down, his mom quickly caught him. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on his back.

He quickly pulled away after a couple of minutes, "The baby. How's the baby?"

"She's good. They took her to get checked just as a safety procedure," the doctor tells him, "She's on the pediatric floor. Would you like to meet her?"

"Yeah," he says, then pauses, "What about Natasha?"

"We can come get you to say goodbye once we get her cleaned," the doctor tells him.

"Okay, thank you," he says.

The doctor takes him and his mom to the pediatric floor. The walk was silent. No one knowing what to say. Bucky was no longer crying, but he felt numb the entire short walk. The doctor knocked quietly on a door, before opening.

"Doctor Monroe, this is Mr. Barnes, the baby's father," the doctor said, before stepping aside to let Bucky in, "Mr. Barnes, I'll have someone come get you when it's time."

"Okay, thank-you," he nodded his head.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter?" Doctor Monroe asked, Bucky nodded his head.

"Meet your Daddy baby girl," the doctor said, gently handing the baby over to Bucky.

Bucky looked down at the small baby in his arms. He was instantly overcome with so many different emotions. The doctor walked out of the room, while Bucky's mom watched from outside threw the window.

"Hi baby girl," he whispered, sniffling back his tears, "You're so beautiful. I'm your dad. And boy am I lucky that you chose me to be your Dad. I always imagined this day would've turned out a lot differently. But life sure knows how to throw some real curveballs."

"Your mom would've loved you," he paused, letting it all sink in. His daughter will have to grow up without a mother. No little girl should have to be without a mom.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, as the baby was lulled to sleep, "I am so sorry your mom won't be able to physically be here. I am so sorry you'll have to grow up without her. No one should have to grow up without a parent. And trust me, I know what that's like. But lucky for us, I had the greatest pleasure of being raised by the most strongest and kindest mother. She taught me everything I know. Your grandma is the best lady you will ever meet. Lucky for us because god knows we're going to be needing her a lot.

"But you and I are incredibly fortunate that we won't ever be alone. We have so many people who care about us. You'll have all the female leadership you can ever need. We can do this," he strongly said to the sleeping baby, "You and I. We can do this. And I promise you this, that no matter what happens, you will always have me. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life. My love for you is greater than anything, anyone I've ever loved. My love for you will always be easy and unconditional. You'll never have to prove your worth to me. You're worth more to me than you can ever possibly imagine. I love you."

Bucky placed a soft kiss to his daughter's forehead. The first kiss he will ever give her, but definitely not the last.

There was a soft knock at the door, he gently called for the person to come in.

His mom quietly opened and closed the door behind her, stepping to her son's side.

"She's beautiful," she smiled down at the little baby.

"She really is," Bucky beamed. He looked over at his mom and noticed she was holding a clipboard, "What's that?"

"Birth certificate," she tells him, "One of the nurses gave it to me. They said there's no rush to fill it out. You have time."

"Here, I can do that," he said gently holding the baby out for her to take.

"Are you sure?" She asked, switching with him.

"Yeah, I have a name anyways."

"What is it?" She looked over at the name written down:

Poppy James Barnes.

[flashback]

After that talk Bucky had with Natasha, he noticed a serious change in her attitude. She was beginning to be more relaxed and more selfless. Bucky felt a tiny weight lifted off his shoulder. Hoping that these changes in her personality would stay.

"So what do you think about James for a boy?" Natasha asked one night, as she and Bucky made dinner together in their small kitchen.

"For a middle name?" He asked confused.

"No, his first name."

"Oh," he paused, "I actually have never liked the idea of giving a child their parents' name. I feel like it doesn't really give them a chance to be their own person. If their parent is successful then they feel the stress of always having to live up to that. And if their parent is crap then they're forever stuck with that reminder of that person."

"That makes sense," she agreed, understanding where he was coming from,

"Then how about James for the middle name. Whether it's a boy or girl."

"I would actually really like that," he smiled at her, "I would like that a lot."

They gathered up their own plates, and sat at their small round table.

"So what other names have you come up with?" Bucky asked her as he took a bite of his chicken.

"Truthfully, I haven't found any good names. All the girls keep making suggestions and they're way too out there," she tells him, "I don't want them to have a name that's too hard to pronounce or spell."

Natasha's phone started to ring, Bucky got up to grab it for her from the living room. By the time he handed it over to her it stopped ringing.

"What kind of flower is that?" He asked her, noticing her phone's Lock Screen background.

"The California Poppy," she tells him.

"Why do you have that as your background?"

"Well my mom was actually from California," she says, "She met my Dad when they both went to Harvard. They fell in love, so she decided to stay out here on the East Coast.

"The only clear memory I have from her was all the stories she used to tell me about poppy season. How the color just made everything so lively. Her parents would take her every season. I remember seeing all the photos of her as a child surrounded by all the flowers. We looked a like as children," she fondly smiled,

"She always talked about taking me to go see them, but she and Dad were always so busy. Then she got sick and there just wasn't a way for us to go. My grandparents tried to get some out here but it was too late. I never did get to see the poppies."

Natasha was silent for a moment, letting what she said sink in. She's never told anyone that story before, the memory would always make her sad. But now sitting here with Bucky, pregnant with their child, for the first time in her life her mother's death didn't bring her such sadness. She could smile at the memory and know she had the utmost best time with her mother, even if it was short lived, she knew her mother loved her. And she can't wait to shower that love onto the baby inside of her, once they were out.

"We should go," Bucky says, "Once the baby is here we should go when it's poppy season. Plus it'd be nice seeing Steve and Liz's life out west."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," her eyes teared up, seeing how generous this man was in front of her, "I'd really love that."

"Poppy, that's cute," Winifred smiled.

"Yeah, Nat would've loved it."

"They said if you were ready, you can say your goodbyes," she carefully said.

"Okay, you're good with her?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to go with you? The nurses can watch Poppy."

"No. I'd feel much better if she was with family," he tells her, "I'll be fine mom. I can do this."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

"Take all the time you need," the nurse told Bucky, as she led him to the room Natasha's body was in.

"Thank you," he quietly said.

She opened the door for him, and he carefully stepped inside.

He walked closer to the body on the bed. He immediately started crying at the sight of her lifeless body.

"God Nat," he cried, "I am so sorry. We never even discussed the possibility of this ever happening. I never even thought of this happening. God I don't know how I am going to ever do this alone. I never imagined myself ever raising a child alone."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"She's beautiful Nat, so incredibly beautiful," he tells her, "I wish you would've been able to see her. Hold her. I'm going to make sure she knows everything about you. There's not going to be a day where she doesn't know about her mother."

"When poppy season arrives I'm going to make sure to take her. Every year," he wipes away a tear, "Oh, I also named her Poppy. For you. For your mom. I promise I won't let you down. She's going to have the best life ever. I'll make sure of that. Thank-you for everything you've given me. I truly did love you. Goodbye Natasha." _________________ Age: 22

Location: CA

Year: May 2016

The car comes to a stop, parking in a spot next to a bunch of other cars. Bucky, Liz, and Steve get out of the car. Steve and Liz grab a few things from the trunk, while Bucky gets the smiley baby out of the car seat. Bucky places the baby into the stroller, Steve had gotten out. The three of them began to walk towards the field of poppies.

"Wow, there's a lot this year," Liz says, "Do you want to take her out?"

"Yeah, I'll grab her," Bucky says grabbing Poppy.

He walked ahead of Liz and Steve, taking in the moment with his daughter.

"Look at all the poppies," he whispers to the almost eight month old. She had a huge smile on her face taking in the sight around her.

She was making some babbling sounds, as if to agree with her dad.

The weather was perfect. The sun shining down on them, it wasn't too hot or too cold. Bucky just stared at the flowers, with a peaceful feeling washing over him. The last few months haven't been the easiest, but he was making it. They both were making it. Being here, gave him the reassurance that he was doing good. He could feel Natasha's presence with him there. As if she was silently saying how proud she was of him.

"We're going to be fine," he said to Poppy, placing a kiss on her head.

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

seven

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s relationship throughout the years.

Word count: 3399

Warnings: some swearing

Series Masterlist

Age: 7

Year: 2001

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Little Elizabeth Sanchez sat on the front porch of her house, watching her parents and the movers move things into her new house. They just moved back to Brooklyn from Connecticut because her father got a new job and to be closer to her grandmother.

"Betty, you'll have to move sweetheart, you're in the way," her mother calls out as they begin to unload the heavier things.

Betty. Her nickname since she was born, given to her by her grandmother.

No one outside of her family calls her Betty. It was reserved only for the most special of people.

She went running off to the fenced off yard, going on a search for dandelions.

"Elizabeth, come over and say hi," she heard her mother's voice.

She looked up to see her parents, Caterina and Brandon Sanchez, standing with a family of four. Elizabeth made her way over, a little shy.

"Elizabeth, this is the Barnes family, they live across the street," her father says.

"Hi," she timidly says.

"Hello Elizabeth," the mother said introducing her family, "My name is Winnie, and this is George, and these two are James and Rebecca."

Elizabeth shook hands with the adults, and looked at the two kids standing with them. Rebecca was clearly a little younger than she was, possibly four or five years old. James looked to be about her age.

"You and James are actually going to be in the same class when you start school on Monday," her mother tells her.

"Hi," James lifted his hand in an awkward wave.

"Hi," she waved back.

"Why don't you two go play?" Winnie tells her son.

"Um okay," James says walking away following Elizabeth back to the yard.

"What were you doing?" James asks Elizabeth.

"Looking for dandelions to make wishes," she tells him.

"Oh, okay," he says looking down at the grass in the search for dandelions.

"What are you trying to wish for?" he asks her.

"Can't tell ya," she looks over at him, "If I did it won't come true."

"I don't think that's true," he says.

"Yes, it's just like how you're not supposed to tell anyone what you wish for on your birthday."

"I always tell Steve what I wish for, and my wishes come true," he tells her.

"Really?" she asks surprised.

"Yeah, like for my birthday this year I had wished for a brand new bike, and I told Steve and I got the bike," he shrugs his shoulders.

"Oh. Who's Steve?"

"My best friend. He lives two blocks over. You'll probably meet him Monday. He's in our class as well," he tells her, "We ride our bikes to school everyday. You can join us if you want."

"Oh, thank-you," she hesitantly says looking at her fingers, "but I don't know how to ride a bike."

"You don't know how to ride a bike?" he stops looking for dandelions, shocked at Elizabeth's sudden revelation.

"No," she shakes her head, her brunette curls hitting her face a little, "my dad is busy with work and my mom doesn't know how to ride one either."

"No, no," James shakes his head, "we cannot have that. I will teach you. You can use my old bike to learn."

"You don't have to do that James," she says nervously.

Truth be told Elizabeth's dad has tried to help her ride a bike but after that first fall, she had sworn to never to do it again. Her parents kept trying to persuade her but after a year of failed attempts they donated her bike.

"Please call me Bucky," he says, "only my parents call me James. My friends call me Bucky."

"Friends?"

"Yeah, we're friends now," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "and as your friend I will teach you how to ride a bike. Okay?"

Bucky had a big grin on his face and Elizabeth couldn't help but to smile as well.

"Okay," she agreed.

For the next two weeks Bucky had spent every free moment teaching Elizabeth how to ride a bike. Some days Steve would help as well. Elizabeth did end up meeting Steve Rogers that following Monday at school. He was just as nice as Bucky was, maybe even nicer. Both boys had welcomed her with open arms into their little duo.

The sight was a funny thing to those walking by and to their parents. A seven year-old teaching another seven year-old how to ride a bike. Bucky holding onto the back seat as Elizabeth tried to balance and peddle. Sometimes their parents would offer the help but Bucky would wave them off, telling them that he told Elizabeth that he would be the one teaching her, and he was very adamant not to let any grown ups help.

"I can't do it Bucky," Elizabeth grumbled getting back up after falling down for the tenth time that hour.

"Yes you can. You just need to not be afraid," he tells her, "You're too scared, so of course you're going to fall. Just don't think about it."

"How can I not think about it," she whines.

"Just try not to," he says, "Just focus on peddling and balancing. Nothing else."

Elizabeth looked at him like he had three heads. Not understanding what he was saying at all. She really just wanted to be done with the whole bike thing but Bucky wouldn't let her. He was determined to get her riding a bike before Halloween. Which was only three days away.

Bucky's and Steve's parents had agreed to let the boys go riding on their bikes around the neighborhood alone for trick-o-treating this year. And Bucky really wanted Elizabeth to join them as well, he felt bad if she was stuck behind trying to keep up with them on her legs.

"It's impossible James," she says, letting the bike hit the floor and stomping over to her front porch steps.

"Come on Elizabeth, just one more try," he begs, "you almost got it. I promise. If you can't do it this last time, then we can give up."

"Really?"

"Yes, I pinky promise," he says sticking out his right pinky.

"Okay," she said getting up linking her pinky with his.

"Alright," he says, "remember just breathe and focus on peddling and balancing."

Elizabeth got back on the bike and took a deep breath, while Bucky held the bike from behind.

"Ready?"

"Ready," she nods her head, getting a sudden urge of confidence.

Bucky began pushing the bike, while Elizabeth began pumping her feet. After a few feet, Bucky let go. Elizabeth began feeling the bike wobble.

"Focus," Bucky yelled running behind the bike.

Elizabeth began to focus on the task at hand.

"Focus," she began to mutter to herself like a mantra.

"You're doing it," Bucky exclaims raising his little fists high in the sky.

Elizabeth looked down to notice that she is doing it, she's riding her bike.

"I'm doing it!" She yells out loud.

Their giggles filling the air as she made a small turn back towards Bucky. She began squeezing the brake handle, to slow down. She came to a stop in front of Bucky's house.

"I did it!"

"You did it!" Bucky ran back over his smile just as big as her's.

"Thank you Bucky," she happily says throwing her arms around him.

He hugged her back, "Now you can go trick-o-treating with Steve and I Friday night."

That Friday Elizabeth was buzzing. She was excited not just because it was Halloween but because now she knew how to ride a bike and can go trick-o-treating with Bucky and Steve. They all agreed to dress up as pirates for Halloween and decorating their bikes like it was their pirate ships. Elizabeth was still borrowing Bucky's old one, her parents were planning on getting her her own one this weekend so she can start riding with the boys to school.

Elizabeth has had friends before, but nothing like this. At her old school she would only see her friends at school, and sometimes at birthday parties but she never felt like she belonged, even at seven years-old. She was different then a lot of little girls, yes she loved to play with dolls and dress-up but she also loved to read.

Her mom used to be a librarian before deciding to be a stay-at-home mom to raise Elizabeth. So books were always at the ready, she wanted to make sure her daughter understood how important reading was to the world. How important stories were. A little escape inside a little book. The girls at her old school didn't understand her fascination with books, but here, Steve and Bucky loved to read as well. And they even gave her a couple of comic books that they had so she can read and know what they were sometimes talking about. She really liked these friends.

Her mom was finishing the touches to Elizabeth's hair, as she stood their fidgeting standing on a stool in front of the mirror in her bathroom.

"Excited?" her mother smiled at her daughter in the mirror.

"Yeah! I can't wait," she smiled brightly showing off her teeth, the two in the front missing having fallen out the night before.

"Remember to stay with Steve and James," her mother reminds her.

"I know mommy."

"And only stay within the neighborhood, you're still new at riding a bike, so be careful."

"I know mommy," Elizabeth sighs.

"And no talking to strangers," she says, putting the pirate hat on top of Elizabeth's contained curls.

"I know mommy."

Caterina helped Elizabeth down the step stool and bent down at her daughter's level.

"I know you know sweetheart, but mommy just needs to hear it again, okay," she softly says.

"Okay, mommy," she nods her head, "I'm going to stay with Steve and Bucky, and we are only trick-o-treating in our neighborhood. And no talking to strangers."

"Perfect," her mother smiled kissing her nose, causing Elizabeth to crinkle her nose and smile.

The doorbell rang.

"Betty, Pirate Steve and Pirate James are here," her father calls from downstairs.

Elizabeth runs down grabbing her candy bag on the way.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," her mother calls out running down the stairs with a camera in hand.

"One quick picture," she says pointing the camera on the kids.

Bucky and Steve stood on either side of Elizabeth, their arms draped around her shoulders smiling brightly, some with missing teeth.

"Perfect," her mother smiles, "be careful."

"We will Mrs. Sanchez," Steve nods.

"Have fun," her father calls out as the three kids run towards their bikes.

"Betty?" Bucky asked Elizabeth as they put on their helmets.

"Uh yeah, it's my nickname my family calls me," she tells him, hoping onto her bike.

"I like it," Bucky smiled, getting on his bike.

The three kids spent their night riding around their neighborhood going door to door asking for candy.

Bucky and Elizabeth said bye to Steve as they approached his house on the way back to their own.

After quickly dumping their bikes, and Elizabeth letting her parents know she's going across the street to go over to Bucky's, they were sprawled on Bucky's bedroom floor going through their candy. Trading with each other.

Bucky's mom was still out with Rebecca trick-o-treating while his dad was working late.

"Okay I'll trade you two hershey's for two packs of sour patch kids," Bucky bargained.

"Okay, deal," Elizabeth said handing over her candy.

A sound of a car door slamming followed by loud swearing alarmed Bucky. He quickly ran over to his window to see his father stumbling through the front yard. His eyes were alarmed.

"Hurry, clean up the candy," Bucky quickly rushed over to Elizabeth, putting the candy back into their bags.

"Why?" Elizabeth asked.

Bucky didn't respond, just quickly putting the candy away when the slam of he front door made both of them jump. He quickly turned off his bedroom light.

"James Buchanan Barnes!" his father yelled.

"Quickly, go into the closet," Bucky grabbed both bags of candy before quickly rushing Elizabeth and himself into his closet, closing the doors behind them.

"Bucky?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Shh, please," he whispered to her, eyes widened with fear.

"James Buchanan Barnes where the fuck are you?" his father slurred, reaching outside his door.

"Your fucking bike James, you are in so much trouble," his father angrily said, opening his son's bedroom door to find it empty and dark.

"Fucking kid," his dad slurs before knocking one of Bucky's figurines off of the shelf by his door.

He closed the door behind him before retreating to his own bedroom.

Elizabeth stood there in fear. She has never seen an adult that mad before. Not even when she accidentally broke one of her dad's ships in a bottle.

She looked over to Bucky who had his eyes closed and tears streaming down his face.

"Bucky," she whispered, "are you okay?"

"You need to go home," he whispered, quietly opening his closet door.

"Okay," she agreed, grabbing her candy bag and handing Bucky his.

Bucky quietly opened his bedroom door and peaked out to make sure the coast was clear. He and Elizabeth quietly made their way down the stairs. Once they were safely out of the house Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief.

Bucky walked her over the where the bikes were left on the grass by the driveway.

"Please don't tell anyone what happened," he says finally breaking the silence, "Not even Steve."

"Okay," she nodded her head.

"Pinky promise," he said holding out his pinky.

Elizabeth hesitated at first, but reluctantly hooked her pinky to his.

"Hi kids," they heard the friendly voice of Bucky's mom walking through the front gate.

"Hi," both kids forcefully smiled.

"Did you guys have a good time trick-o-treating?" she smiled, holding the hand of Rebecca who was dressed like Blue from Blue's Clues.

"Yes we did Mrs. Barnes, we got a lot of candy," Elizabeth spoke up.

"Good. You heading home?"

"Yeah I am," she waved goodbye grabbing the bike to walk it across the street to her own house.

"Have a goodnight sweetie," Bucky's mom smiled.

"Bye Ewizabeth," called out Rebecca.

"Bye," she waved to the little girl.

Winnie turned to her son who had been quiet the entire time.

"You okay honey?" she asked, furrowing her brows in concern.

"Yes, dad's home," he told her, as if she already knew what that meant.

"Oh okay," she nervously swallowed, "Can you please help Becca get ready for bed?"

He nodded his head, and turned to where Elizabeth was heading inside her house.

Elizabeth walked inside her house finding her mom and dad sitting on the couch in the living room watching tv.

"Hi sweetie, how was it?" her dad asked, turning down the volume on the tv.

Elizabeth scurried over to her parents and sat right in between them.

"It was fun," she smiled, keeping her promise to Bucky.

The next day Elizabeth wandered over to the Barnes' house. Normally Bucky would come get her early Saturday afternoons to play. But now it was nearly three o'clock and she hasn't seen or heard from him since she said goodbye last night.

She pressed the doorbell and waited for someone to answer the door.

Mrs. Barnes opened the door slightly, just enough for her to peek her head out at the small child standing on her porch.

"Oh hi Elizabeth," she hesitantly greeted, holding the door as to not expose the inside to the outside world.

"Hi Mrs. Barnes can Bucky come out and play?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, not today," she said, then a loud crash was heard from the inside.

Mrs. Barnes quickly turned her head in to see what happened.

"Who's at the door Winifred?" Elizabeth hears Mr. Barnes yell.

"No one," she called out before turning back to Elizabeth, "Go home okay sweetie. I'll let Bucky know you stopped by."

The older woman quickly rushed back in closing the door behind her.

Elizabeth stood there for a couple of seconds before retreating back home.

Later that night Elizabeth was up in her room playing with her dolls when her parents walked in carefully sitting on her bed.

"Betty?" her mother calls.

"Yes mommy?" she looked up from the floor to see her parents who both had worried expressions on their faces.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Come here," her father patted the spot in between him and his wife.

Elizabeth got up and sat down.

"Bucky and Rebecca will be staying over tonight, along with their mom," her father tells her.

"Like a sleepover?"

"Yes, kind of." her mother said brushing her daughters curls with her hand.

"Why? Is it because his daddy's been mean?" she asked looking between her parents.

"What? Why do you say that?" her mother stops what she was doing, taken by surprise by her daughter's response.

"I promised I wouldn't tell Bucky," Elizabeth glanced at her feet biting her bottom lip, and kicking her feet softly.

"Tell what?"

"His daddy came home very mad yesterday, yelling bad words. Bucky had us hide in the closet and pretend we weren't there," she tells her parents.

"Oh sweetie, you should've told us," her mother said, wrapping her arm around Elizabeth to bring her closer.

"I promised Bucky I wouldn't. I didn't want him to get in trouble."

"Oh honey, he wouldn't have gotten in trouble, you would've been helping him," her father says.

"I pinky promised. You're not supposed to break pinky promises," she looks at her father, eyes so serious.

"Sometimes promises can be broke, even pinky promises, if someone is in trouble. Okay?" her father leans his head closer to her's looking her in the eyes.

"Okay. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"You don't have to apologize. You thought you were doing the right thing and protecting your friend," he tells his daughter placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Let's get you ready for bed okay," her mom says.

"I'll go get the other bedding for the extra bed in here," her father said pointing his head at the other bed in Elizabeth's room.

An hour later Bucky and Elizabeth are sat on opposite sides of the room in their own beds, both in their pajamas reading.

"I'm sorry Bucky," Elizabeth quietly says.

"It's okay, it's not your fault," he responds looking up from his comic book, "My dad has been that way since before you even moved here."

"Does he scare you?"

"Yes, but Ma always tells me to take Becca and hide in my room, and sometimes when Dad gets too loud or mean we hide in my closet with the lights off. He can't get us if the lights are off," he tells her.

"You can always live here," Elizabeth perks up at the idea, "You, Becca, and your mommy. You guys can live here."

"He'll still find us," Bucky sadly says.

"Then you and I will move. Far far far away. Just us two," she says getting off of her bed and sitting on his.

"We can pack up our sweaters and toys and move somewhere far, where no one can find us," she says eyes wide at the thought, "Maybe we can even become pirates. Pirates live on the sea where no one but mermaids can find them. You'll be safe. Your dad won't be able to hurt you because no one wants to mess with pirates. I will protect you."

"Thanks Betty, but I can't leave behind my mom and Becca," he says, "They'll miss me too much, and I'll miss them. Plus I haven't even learned how to tie my shoes yet."

"Yeah, and I'll miss my mommy and daddy too," she realizes. She gets off of his bed and tucks herself back into her own getting ready to turn out the lights as Bucky does the same thing.

"How about when we are older?" Bucky says in darkness.

"Okay," she agrees smiling in the dark, "When we are older you and I will go away and become pirates."

"Deal?"

"Deal."

Both kids fall asleep with a smile on their faces, dreaming of the their life as pirates. Far away from their little homes in Brooklyn, New York.

Oh the possibilities.