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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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@noblehcart | Masha & ?? | “Devil in Me” by Halsey

“I scream too loud if I speak my mind.”

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#verse tba #noblehcart

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caughtintherevolution · 5 years

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@enjcyourselves | Eric & Masha

As another day closed in Piffling Vale’s second hospital, nurse practitioner Masha Voronina stepped onto the lift with a faint smile. Dr. Edgeware hadn’t believed her when she said she could lessen his patient load.

“A doctor,” he’d lamented. “that’s all I wanted them to send... Just one. more. doctor. Someone to take half my patients and-”

He’d fallen asleep at his desk at that point. Masha covered him with his spare lab coat and determined to take on half his patients. Now, two months into her time on Piffling, she had done just that. The good doctor was getting rest, Masha was meeting the most interesting people, and the pay was steady. It felt good to be doing good in the world, fulfilling in a way she hadn’t felt since she’d helped run a hospital for Doctors Without Borders - but not just for the medical work. Masha’s spare time had been taken up by volunteer causes to better this strange little village. She supervised the scouts - they decidedly did not want any of the other candidates for reasons Masha wasn’t too clear on - and she did veterinary work for the aquarium and some local farms and tomorrow, she and Eric Chapman were giving a free Saturday training on CPR and first aid at city hall in the games room.

She was actually quite thankful to be going home to get some rest before tomorrow’s big event.

(Never mind the planning that still needed to be completed about the free flu shots next weekend - )

The lift doors dinged and the only other person in the Chapman’s building stepped inside. Behind his smile, Eric Chapman looked as tired as Masha felt. Smiling up at him, Masha resisted the urge to fuss over him as much as she could.

“You had better be going home, Mr. Chapman,” she teased brightly. “We have a big day tomorrow... I will write you a prescription for a good night’s rest if I have to.”

#;;ic | {masha voronina}#enjcyourselves #;;your hands can heal - your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}

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noblehcart · 3 years

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Drabble: lost chances (space au) Tagging u for reasons: @walkingshcdow

Keep your back straight and your head high. You can walk past anything life throws your way, Stefan. Remember that. He remembered his mother's words as clearly as if she had said them yesterday. It had been little over twenty-eight years since she had passed away and he had been sent to live with his father and step mother. Her words carried him through everything as she promised.

But now everything burned. Eyes, lungs and throat. It took every ounce to keep his back straight as he listened to his new captain. His old friend.

"Tell me, Stefan, which ship has gotten the better deal."

All he wanted was to shatter the damn glass between them, but instead white knuckled he kept his arms folded behind his back. He knew though that Finnegan had seen his eyes. Eyes his sister used to fondly tell him that if anyone knew him would know how he spoke with his eyes. It didn't feel that long ago that he would go to the Finnegan estate to pick up his sister from helping their uncle. She'd rush out to see him excited and chattering away about the xenolinguistic information disks she was allowed to watch and borrow from the Finnegan's Aunt Edith. He remembered Finnegan at a window and those probing eyes watching him. He remembered fascinating conversations and time spent together with Liesel in between talking on about topics he never found interest in.

He remembered the warmth of her hug and how she clung onto him when it came time for him to leave the Volya and board the Erskine. Her begging him not to let Finnegan find out.

"You have to come back- it's just temporary. He'll replace Eric and you'll come back. Just don't let him know...I don't know what he'd do."

But he did find out.

" You don't need security. I won't resist." He had responded calmly at the punishment of the brig. It was easy to go. Harder to hear the ice in Finnegan's voice as he withstood the verbal lashing at having lied to his face. He had known Finnegan longer than anyone on the Volya outside of his sister. He didn't want to lie to him. It wasn't fair to him or Finnegan and yet-

He remembered sitting in the conference room as they discussed Eric Chapman's desertion. How to go about it. Harboring a fujitive. He was one breath away from telling his captain to force Chapman to return to his ship and simply resign as he should. However, Stefan Ivanov made the mistake of looking to their Chief Medical Officer.

He saw her hands grasping Eric's. He saw the worry in her beautiful dark eyes and the furrow across her brow as she looked to Chapman and he knew he couldn't do it. She wanted Eric aboard. He never wanted to be the one to take something or someone away from her. He held his tongue and went along with the proposed plan. Lie to Finnegan.

He hoped in vain that at least with Eric aboard he'd fix the Rudyard glitch and stop the nonsense that was his sister's affair with the computer. He hoped that with the exchange of officers that his Captain would respect his choice and in return stop following the suit of their computer system's affections.

He hoped that Masha Voronina was happy. He wanted that most of all....

-but now. Now after a week in the brig the reality of what had become of his life settled in. The small table and sparce furnishings in the cell were upended across the space as the truth of the matter was wrenched across his chest. All those years at the academy had been wasted as he sat in the brig not knowing if Finnegan would ever forgive him or release him. He might never know if his sister was safe or happy.

The former Second in command dropped onto his knees, shaking with a sob caught in his throat. He didn't know if he'd ever forgive himself for giving up so easily on one of the most brilliant women he had ever known. All he knew is that he betrayed his oldest friend, lost the love of his life to trade his own for someone else, threw away his career and now didn't know if he'd ever see his sister safe again. Stefan Ivanov wept.

#// drabble #walkingshcdow

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ahtohallanfound · 4 years

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✔ - for Masha Voronina at caughtintherevolution

A quick and easy plotting guide | Accepting

@caughtintherevolution

Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse!

My muse(s): Elsa of Arendelle

Do I know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

#inthegroundontime

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walkingshcdow-a · 2 years

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“See the menorah? It’s LIT.” (rus @ masha)

She can't help but laugh. Like she hasn't heard that joke before. She misses her siblings at the holidays - even Yelena - so maybe that's why she hugs Ruslan tighter as they light the third candle on her mantlepiece.

"Next year, maybe I'll take you home with me," she says, knowing what everyone will assume and for once, not really caring. "Then you and Efrem can make that joke together and you can have your first real Hanukah as a member of the family."

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.002 | modern #noblehcart #x. asks #x. meme response

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walkingshcdow-a · 2 years

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“Oh, Ruslan, you’re so brave and impetuous!" (ok but rus retelling a story to masha)

"Uh huh."

Masha goes back to putting away dishes. They clatter into cupboards and she is quiet for a long time.

"I'm sorry, but... impetuous?" she finally echoes. "Who uses that word? Not that it's not accurate but..."

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walkingshcdow-a · 2 years

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“ you're pretty amazing. you know that, right? “ (mashap)

"That's why you married me."

The body of their target lays unceremoniously on the sidewalk, oozing blood.

Masha kisses Eric with a cocky smile and flicks the safety to the "on" position and holsters it, done shooting tonight. The marriage is a sham - a cover - so they can infiltrate the community in which their target, now dead, once hid, but it's a nice dream.

After all, they play their parts well. He volunteers with the HOA and she makes casseroles and cakes for the neighbors. They make love like newlyweds, which perhaps, is why Masha apologizes with baked goods. They maintain a yard, go to block parties, are the picture of a happy couple.

They also spend their nights killing plenty of henchmen and interrogating others.

She thinks she might want to interrogate Eric to night. She tilts his chin.

"Eric? Tell me the truth," she murmurs, "Do you think I'm amazing enough to marry in earnest when all is said and done? I can't imagine my home without you in it now."

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.002 | modern #x. asks #x. meme response #noblehcart #r: looks like morning in your eyes | {masha x eric}

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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❝ let’s just stay here. come. let’s just stay here. ❞ (fantasy stefan & masha?)

Masha laughs brokenly, sitting up in the bed. The sounds of late night - maybe early morning - in the tavern crackle through the floorboards: drunken laughter, glasses clattering against wooden tables, the sound of a lute. This could be peace, offered to her in the form of Stefan. He's a handsome military man and one who has offered to marry her and sweep her away from all of this - not just roadside inns, but battles with bloodthirsty berserkers and mad arch-mages and dragons that would raze the world in a breath. He might give her a home, children, a future.

She can't have that. Her fingers slide to the amulet around her neck and her hand wraps around the gemstone the size of a bird's egg found there. Her eyes shut.

Stefan doesn't understand. She was promised to someone - something, perhaps - long before he asked her to be his. She cannot have a future: she has a destiny.

She can see him so well in the darkness and she thinks he should understand better than he does what she is and why she cannot simply stay. He is an elf. Hasn't he seen centuries come and go yet? If not, he will one day. There will be others to fill his heart and fill his bed and she prays - though she thinks the gods leave her to the mercy of her patron now - that when next he loves, Stefan will not love a hero.

The cool night air prickles Masha's bare skin and she rises from the straw mattress, still fingering her amulet. She smiles sadly and knows he can see it in the dark. His vision in the night is better than hers, isn't it?

"Come with me."

He won't say "yes". He wants a future. He wants a home and children and a future. He wants a wife. Masha doesn't know if she can be that anymore. How do you wed something wild? She smooths a hand over his forehead and down the side of his face.

"Don't you ever dream of what we could accomplish together?"

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.006 | dnd #x. asks #noblehcart

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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❝ i dare say every table in this land has heard of you and sung your song. ❞ (fantasy ruslan @ masha)

Masha groaned and slid further down in her seat, pulling her cowl over her gently pointed ears and flaxen hair.

"My song is greatly exaggerated," she tried to reassure him through gritted teeth. In truth, the song only got longer with every passing year. Once, she'd been an apothecary's daughter, who'd invented a genius cure to plague; now, she was Blessed of the Archfey, Mistress of the Wilds; a fighter, a healer, a hero. She reached out for her tankard and chugged it without care whether it was mead or ale or something far more alcoholic. "You're the only one who hasn't treated me differently since I returned from the temple. It's enough to make me want to run back into the woods and stay there."

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#.006 | dnd #;;ic | {masha voronina}#noblehcart #x. asks

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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'I want a baby' (chapvoroninov because im not over them)

It is rare that Eric and Stefan agree on anything. The way they love each other is simple: they bicker. Masha has always sworn that the last day that her husbands agreed on anything was when they made their marriage vows.

She didn't realize the last day would not be the last day.

Now, as they eat dinner in a too-awkward silence and they break it with that - a simultaneous declaration of longing for a child - Masha chokes on her wine and for a moment, cannot even think to answer as she struggles for breath. Gasping, she realizes they are serious. How often have they talked behind her back about asking her? Have they orchestrated this fancy anniversary dinner only to ask her-

Except they don't ask.

They tell.

They want a baby. If they could make one themselves they'd have her blessing. They want a baby. They need her. She should be overjoyed that they're getting along, agreeing, looking ahead to their future as a family. Instead, she thinks of the siblings she's raised to various degrees of success and how she ran from that family when it suffocated her. She thinks of two missed cycles she never followed up on when she and Eric were young and reckless and had spent nine days in the Phillippines before going their separate ways and how scared she had been to find him again; how relieved when she didn't have to and how guilty for being relieved she had been. She thinks of Stefan quietly watching her do her work at the hospital in pediatrics and telling her she'd be a great mother some day. She thinks of Eric building playgrounds and trying (and failing) to lead the scouts. She thinks how much it matters to them - to all three of them - to get this right.

She still wishes they'd asked instead of told her what they wanted. She wouldn't have said no, but she wouldn't feel her ribs getting tight at the prospect of failing the men she loves.

But what if...

What if they do have a baby? Or two? Or five? She imagines the house filled with laughter and chaos and tag-teaming. Pancake breakfasts and packed school lunches. Telling their children wild stories with a grain of truth to them. Bright eyed dreamers with blond hair and Masha's own eyes. Would they have boys or girls? What crazy nurseries would they design and create? How many wings would Eric add onto this madhouse to ensure that all their children had their own rooms, their own space to thrive? How would Stefan soften for little hands and little voices? Maybe, finally, Masha would be apart of a family she didn't want to run from, but run home to every single night.

"This had better not be your idea of a joke..." she says carefully, watching them for a flicker of something. "My husbands don't usually agree like this..."

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.002 | modern #infertility tw #pregnancy tw #noblehcart #miscarriage tw #((I'm still 100% certain Masha and Eric had at least one miscarriage that Eric doesn't fully know about))#((from when they were young and in and out of each other's lives and she had no way of reaching him))#((which brings me to those AUs where they have a child he doesn't know about))#((but that's for a different AU))

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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“I was probably asking a bit much there.” (henry @ masha)

Masha sighs. She isn't going to be a reincarnation of Henry's wife - she may not even come close - and she grows tired of him looking for similarities, of him holding his breath to see the reflection of a reflection, and her sighing with relief when there isn't one to be found. It's times like these she thinks she should have run off with her best friend's army buddy or the man she met in a Venezuelan airport. But she's here now. Henry is here now. Now has to be enough.

It has to be.

And if it isn't...?

Masha's fingers massage her throat gently as she laughs splinteredly. She feels it catch in her veins and between her teeth. She hopes he can only hear the gentleness of it and not the damnation in it.

Someday she thinks she'll run away. She's very good at running. She's run all over God's green earth and she won't stop for a man who looks at her like a ghost.

"A bit," she agrees, peeling from his arm as they reach the front of her building. "But it wouldn't be too much to ask if we could do this again some other night... if you wanted to see me again."

There's a funny emphasis on "me" and she knows she'll call Ruslan when she gets upstairs and uncork a bottle of vodka and ask him to stay on the phone with her and watch movies until they fall asleep, like they used to do when they were younger. She misses him more than any ex-boyfriend. She misses being seen and somehow, she thinks if her best friend knew that the handsome, brilliant medical examiner she raved home about was looking for traces of a dead ex-wife in her with every date, he'd tell her she deserved better.

Maybe she does.

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.002 | modern #noblehcart #((shoutouts to your other boys in here))

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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“You threw my maracas into the sea!” (eric @ masha)

"You don't use them!" Masha threw her hands up in the air. Their living quarters in Chapman's was becoming increasingly crowded with clutter and she wasn't sure where Eric got it all from or what it was all for. All she knew was that the maracas had been coated in a thick layer of dust when she found them and the vicarage didn't want them for charity and so, giving up, she'd chucked them off a cliff. It had been satisfying until she realized Eric had watched her do it. Now, standing on an otherwise beautiful overlook with her husband, Masha had to look him in the eyes and tell the truth. "We are drowning in unused and unusable clutter at the house and every time I complain about it, you come up with a great, new wing for the place that miraculously features junk you've been hauling around for god-knows-how-long. You haven't used those maracas since we were stationed in Mexico City and-"

She remembered him playing them in a crowded, colorful square, looking hilariously out of place in his loud Hawaiian print shirt and sunburnt skin. How like a tourist. She'd danced for him, to the beat of those maracas, until he'd cast them aside and they danced together to the sounds of someone else's guitar. He held her to his chest and apologized that he would leave in the morning. They'd made the night count and-

Masha's eyes welled with tears.

"If you tell me you were keeping them for sentimental value, I will dive in after them," she told him. "So choose your next words very, very carefully."

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.002 | modern #noblehcart #x. asks

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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“Maybe you should prescribe a chill pill.” (ruslan @ masha)

The Sunshine Treatment | Accepting!

Masha laughs shortly.

"The placebo effect could work wonders on Luka," she agrees, reviewing prescriptions with a small smile. "He's very prone to suggestion."

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#noblehcart #.005 | space #x. asks

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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“ tell me words of encouragement so i don’t murder someone. ” ruslan @ masha

“If you murder someone, they might not let me visit you in prison,” Masha said as she restocked the bandage drawer. “And then you’ll have to get a prison best friend.”

She looked up, cracking a smile.

“Who do you want to murder?” she asked. “Say the word and they’re...”

She motioned, like she was slitting her own throat with her index finger. And maybe that was the real joke. Masha would never murder when torture would suffice.

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#x. asks #x. meme response #((Idk what verse this is))#noblehcart

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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@noblehcart:

“Keep everyone alive for me?” The dry laugh felt hollow as he looked at the Chief Medical Officer of the Volya. Suddenly all the words he had ever wanted to say came to mind and suddenly he couldn’t find the will to stay them. What could he say to her? Words that were too little too late? It didn’t matter now anyway. In an hour he’d disembark the Volya to serve on the Erskine for who knew how long as they maintained the ruse that their errant computer system had somehow ejected its programmer.

Warm hand reached up to gently cover Masha’s before gently pulling it away from his cheek. Thumb brushed over the top of her hand for a moment then he leaned over pressing a kiss against the curve of her wrist. Perhaps it was best he said nothing and let this be the only small testament to what he felt.

Both his hands clasped over hers, squeezed warmly then gently let her go.

Back straight, head held high as a half smile sat on his lips he told himself that she wasn’t his to worry about. Eric Chapman could see to that now and he’d still have to answer to him if he didn’t. But still....“You’re the only one I really trust to keep this ship from falling apart, Masha. Be safe. And please, don’t let Ruslan drink too much. You know how he gets.”

Masha couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat. It hurt to breathe, hurt to look at Stefan, hurt to know that in the end, whatever choices she had made, he would offer himself like a lamb to slaughter. In another life, she was brave enough to storm the Erskine with her blaster and kill for the man she loved, but Masha was a healer at heart, not a killer. And Eric was waiting for her. She thought of his smile, more radiant than a thousand stars. She forced herself to hear his voice in her head, but all she could drum up were cheerful platitudes. Choking on a sob, Masha blinked away the blur in her eyes.

What had she done?

Stefan was warm. Stefan was solid. Stefan knew her well enough to say the words that could bring a smile to her face while breaking her heart.

Where had this deluge of feelings been a year ago? Even a few months ago, if she had known…

What would she have done differently?

His lips burned her wrist like a hot coil. Surely, she’d be forever marked by his touch. She would touch her wrist in the quiet still of morning, staring out the window at the stars as she waited for the tea to steep. Eric would never think anything of it, not even when she squeezed the lemon by hand and added three sugars to taste.

Something in her core rattled madly. She felt as if she didn’t let it out, it would tear a hole in her gut. She would pour regret at Stefan’s feet and it wouldn’t change anything. She had made her choice. He had made his. She would return to the man she would one day marry and Stefan… Masha pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Indentured servitude aboard the Erskine wasn’t a death sentence, not exactly, but Masha didn’t trust Finnegan one bit. Even if she did, he was ripping Stefan away from his life, his achievements.

His family.

How could she ever look Liesel in the eye again?

Masha’s lips quivered as she tried to smile, really smile. It was selfish to think only of her feelings now. In a few moments, Stefan would say goodbye to his sister and embark on a new life. All she could do was make sure his sacrifice was not in vain. She tried to think fondly of her own future, but she could feel the “almosts” scratching at the back of her mind. When would they claw their way forward? Tonight? Tomorrow? In ten years, when she still reached for the empty place Stefan sat beside her when commanding officers met? She’d reach for him always, look for him, and she’d always wonder.

Had she made the right choice?

Would she really have made a different choice?

Her chest constricted as Stefan pulled away. Without him near, the room was infinitely colder. Masha’s smile broke into a shattered laugh. She shook her head. Then, her hand reached up for the nape of Stefan’s neck.

When she shut her eyes, the answers became clear: she wouldn’t have made a different choice in the end. When she shut her eyes, she saw Eric in the holodeck, dreaming up adventures for them, she heard his laughter which filled her veins with honey. She imagined new planets to explore and memories to make with a husband at her side. Masha didn’t want a man who would die for her. She wanted one who would live for her. For all she loved Stefan and for all he loved her, it wasn’t enough. Perhaps that was selfish, but somehow, she thought Stefan knew this about her, knew this about them both. And, perhaps, selfish creature that she was, that was why Masha eased up on her toes and pressed a soft, tear-soaked kiss to Stefan’s lips. No one could see and even if they could, perhaps they’d understand the finality, the gravity of it. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words: Thank you. You’ve saved his life and mine and I can never repay that debt. Be well. Goodbye. They were too sterile to speak her truth. And she knew the deeper words unspoken between them must have devastated them both: I loved you, I love you still. I’m sorry. I love someone else, too. I carry you both in my heart. I always will.

“I can think of no better way to thank you,” she murmured, voice trembling as she pulled away, lingering just enough to feel his breath upon her skin, “than to care for this crew until your return.”

Even if that day never comes.

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.005 | space #noblehcart

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walkingshcdow-a · 3 years

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“I can fit you in next Thursday, but only in the back of the rickshaw.” Eric @ masha

"When are you going to take enough time off of work to actually..." She bit her lip. "Enjoy yourself? You're always telling everyone else to. I don't see why you don't take your own advice every once and a while. Put your knees up with a glass of wine. Relax. Go on a date with the woman who has spent a year tracking you down to this ridiculous little island..."

#;;your hands can heal; your heart is bruised | {masha voronina}#;;ic | {masha voronina}#.002 | modern #noblehcart

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