#hes wearing his ms uniform but the blood from the wound he got from the current arc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

griffintail · 3 years

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Blow Us All Away

Pairings: Parental! Wilbur x F! Reader

Warnings: Blood Mention, Duel, Death

A/N: This is literally all over the SMP timeline the basic thing is Revivebur or Ghostbur didn't happen and L'Manberg is still a standing country. This is an idea I randomly had for my Lost Ones character Little Star and decided to just write it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meet the latest graduate of King's College

I prob'ly shouldn't brag, but, dag, I amaze and astonish

The scholars say I got the same virtuosity and brains as my pops

The gents say my brain's not where the resemblance stops

I'm only nineteen but my mind is older

Gotta be my own person, like my father, but bolder

I shoulder his legacy with pride, I used to hear him say

That someday I would blow us all away!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/N) was always proud to consider herself Wilbur’s daughter. She had his fire and brains. He taught her his talents of music and she was able to learn with ease. She’d walk around with pride with her L’Manberg uniform, wearing and bearing her titles with pride.

The daughter of the nation’s president and a soon-to-be cabinet member. Her father was confident she could do just about anything and would most certainly succeed him with ease once she got older.

Today though, she was a lady on a mission. She had her uniform on as always but she had her hands behind her back, a serious look plastered onto her face. Ahead on her walk down the prime path, she spotted Niki and Eret talking.

“Ladies, I'm lookin for a Ms. Wastaken. Made a speech last week, our peace talk speaker. She disparaged my father's legacy in front of a crowd. I can't have that; I'm making my father proud.” (Y/N) stopped in front of the pair explain herself.

“I saw her just up Broadway a couple of blocks, she was goin' to see a play,” Eret told the girl.

“Well, I'll go visit her box.” (Y/N) tipped her hat before going to the stage in the SMP land.

As (Y/N) got to the stage, there was currently being a play put on people she didn’t know but that didn’t matter to her right now. She was a lady on a mission. In the high seats sat the daughter of Dream and that was her goal.

“Terror!” (Y/N) came forward in front of her seat.

“Shh!” Terror didn’t even look at her.

“Terror!”

“Shh, I'm tryin' to watch the show!”

“Ya shoulda watched your mouth before you talked about my father though!”(Y/N) protested as the other finally looked at her.

Around them, the crowd had become less interested in the play as they watched the far more interesting events in front of them.

“I didn't say anything that wasn't true. Your father's a coward, and so, it seems, are you.”

(Y/N) gave a short laugh as she watched her. “It's like that?”

“Yeah, I don't fool around, I'm not your little school girl friends.”

“Well, see you on the dueling ground! That is unless you wanna step outside and go now!”(Y/N) challenged with spread arms.

“I know where to find you, piss off, I'm watchin' this show now.” Terror once more didn’t look at the other woman on the ground.

(Y/N) clenched her jaw but stormed off. She’d show her! She’d win that duel and Terror would…

She stopped near Tubbo’s old house realizing what she had just done. That’s one thing Wilbur had never taught her; she didn’t know how to fight. They were a peaceful nation that didn’t need to fight. They used their words and she just signed herself up to use weapons.

“Fuck.” She muttered as she looked around.

She tended to overstep herself when it came to standing for her father, but this time she’d stepped too far. She didn’t know what to do, she needed help. There was no way she’d let Wilbur know what she did, but she knew one person that would keep a secret and she took off. Stopping outside the odd building, she knocked on the door and after a few moments, the fox hybrid opened the door, tail flicking seeing his sister.

“(Y/N), hey. What’s up?” Fundy asked, moving to let her.

“Fundy, I challenged Terror to a duel.” She admitted immediately as she walked in.

“You what?!” His fur puffed up as he closed his door hurriedly. “Why would you do that?!”

“It just slipped! She talked shit about dad Fundy! Fundy, if you had only heard the shit, she said about him; I doubt you would have let it slide and I was not about to!” She threw her hands up as she paced.

“Slow down.” Fundy tried to calm her as he took her shoulders.

“I came to ask you for advice, this is my very first duel. They don't exactly cover this subject in L’Manberg.” She sighed.

“Did your friends attempt to negotiate a peace?”

“She refused to apologize, we had to let the peace talks cease.”

“Where is this happening?”

“Across the river, in Las Nevadas.”

“Everything is legal in Las Nevadas.” They both nodded.

“Alright, so this is what you're gonna do. Stand there like proud until Terror is in front of you. When the time comes, fire your weapon in the air. This will put an end to the whole affair.”

“But what if she decides to shoot? Then I'm a goner.”

“No, she'll follow suit if she's truly a woman of honor. To take someone's life, that is something you can't shake (Y/N), our father can't take another heartbreak.” He muttered, looking away for a moment, as he thought of everything that happened recently.

Their father was certainly having a hard time with all of it and they both knew it but (Y/N) didn’t just want to stand there. That felt like proving Terror right.

“Fundy!” She protested.

“Promise me.” He looked back at her as he thought about the war. “You don't want this young woman's blood on your conscience.”

She hesitated before sighing as she nodded. “Okay, I promise.”

“Come back home when you're done.” Fundy patted her shoulder before going to his weapons chest and pulling out his old bow and handed it to her. “Take my bow, be smart, make me proud, sis.”

(Y/N) took the bow, staring at it before nodding. Putting it on her back, she took a deep breath before leaving Fundy’s home and went towards Las Nevadas.

“My name is (Y/N). I am a musician. And I'm a little nervous, but I can't show it. I'm sorry, I'm a Soot with pride. You talk about my father; I cannot let it slide.” She sang to herself the familiar beat she knew.

Before she knew it, she was in Las Nevadas and Terror was standing there with a few souls that had seen from the play to watch how this act ended and a few faces she recognized that must have heard about the duel about to occur. She just hoped her father hadn’t heard how she wasn’t using her words.

“Terror, how was the rest of your show?” (Y/N) asked as she came forward.

“I'd rather skip the pleasantries, let's go.” Terror told her, moving her mask from the side of her face to the front. “Grab your bow.”

(Y/N) nodded as she took off the bow. “Confer with your men. The duel will commence after we count to ten.”

(Y/N) went to her position as everyone started to shift with excitement and nervousness. A few citizens from Las Nevadas had become curious and came to see.

“Look 'em in the eye, aim no higher.” (Y/N) muttered to herself as she gripped onto the bow. “Summon all the courage you require. Then slowly and clearly aim your bow towards the sky.”

The counting started and they began to take their paces.

One, two, three.

(Y/N) pulled the string back and aimed it up.

Four, five, six.

Before most of the crowd could react, Terror turned on her heel with her bowstring pulled back.

Seven.

And the bowstring was released and (Y/N) let out a cry as she fell to the ground. Blood was already starting to quickly pour as Terror scoffed.

“And now that’s done.” Terror said, walking away as a few people went to help the other.

Everything was blurry for (Y/N). Everything seemed so fast but so slow. She didn’t know what was happening, she didn’t know where she was. All she could feel was pain and dizziness consuming her. She didn’t even hear as there was a call on the walkie about what happened as Foolish carried her to a cleaner location to hopefully heal her.

Fundy’s blood went cold when he heard the call on the radio and bolted for Las Nevadas. He demanded to know where his little sister was and once he found out where she was, he booked it for there too.

~~~~~~~~

Stay Alive

~~~~~~~~

Fundy made it to Foolish had brought her and was ready to barge his way through every room to find her when Foolish stepped out.

“Where's my sister?” Fundy demanded.

“Fundy, come in, I brought her in a half an hour ago. She lost a lot of blood on the way over.” Foolish explained to him.

“Is she alive?” Fundy felt the tears in his eyes.

“Yes, but you have to understand. The arrow entered just above her hip and lodged in her right arm.”

“Can I see her please?”

“I'm doing everything I can but the wound was already infected when she arrived.” Foolish told him as he hesitantly led him to where (Y/N) was.

“(Y/N)!” Fundy rushed to her side, gently putting a hand on her forehead as Foolish let them be.

The pain had started to numb and (Y/N) could vaguely see her brother as she was able to hear him clearly.

“Fundy. I did exactly as you said, Fundy. I held my head up high.”

“I know, I know, shh.”

“High—” (Y/N) tried to continue but stumbled over her words.

“I know, I know, shh. I know you did everything just right.” Fundy assured her as tears spilled from his eyes.

“Even before we got to ten.” She needed to explain what happened, she needed him to know even as he gently shushed her. “I was aiming for the sky. I was aiming for the sky.”

“I know, I know, shh. I know, save your strength and stay alive.” Fundy pleaded with her as his ears went flat and his tail wrapped around his leg.

That’s when Fundy heard furious and upset shouting. Fundy squeezed his eyes shut as he knew one of those voices by heart and sure enough, not a moment later Wilbur came bursting through the door.

Wilbur’s heart had dropped the moment he heard about (Y/N) being injured. His little star…He didn’t know what happened, but he sprinted as fast as he could towards the country of Las Nevadas, demanding answers. His little girl had been in a duel…

The other side had been cheap and shot her before they even got to ten. And his daughter, his little star, his (Y/N), had aimed her bow towards the sky. When she made it out of this, he’d let her know how proud he was of her.

Yet, now he stood in the doorway, seeing his daughter barely together, a small bit of blood still collecting around her…

“No!” Wilbur shouted as he rushed over, Fundy moving back to let their father be by her side.

“Dad,” Fundy muttered.

“Is she breathing? Is she going to survive this?” Wilbur looked towards Foolish, who stood quietly at the door, before Wilbur looked at Fundy. “Who did this, Fundy, did you know?”

“Dad.”Wilbur looked at his daughter and took her hand carefully and put his forehead on hers as he teared up. “I'm so sorry for forgetting what you taught me.”

“My daughter.”Wilbur choked up as he squeezed her hand, Fundy putting a hand over his mouth behind them.

“We played guitar.”

“I taught you guitar.”

“You would put your hands on mine.”

“You changed the melody every time.” Wilbur laughed quietly at the memory as tears were pouring down his cheeks.

“I would always change the line.” (Y/N) muttered as her grip started to weaken.

“Shh, I know, I know.” Wilbur shushed her gently as his grip only went tighter.

“I would always change the line.”

“I know, I know.” He had to keep her awake and talking if she stopped…! “Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.”

“Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.” (Y/N) repeated quietly.

“Good. Un-deux-trois-quatre-cinq-six-sept-huit-neuf.”

“Un-deux-trois…” She repeated partially with him before her eyes began to droop then closed.

“Sept-huit-neuf. Sept-huit—” Wilbur pleaded before he let out a sob as she didn’t respond.

Fundy sobbed as well as she was gone…

#wilbur soot x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt oneshots #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #dreamsmp x reader

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Sixteen)

Ughhhh Tissues Needed

Also Generic WS-typical warning for mentions of slightly torture-y things

MASTERLIST HERE

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

“Sir, could I remind you that use of this particular suit results in more wear on the arc reactor? With numbers pushing 70%, surely you don’t want to risk it?”

Tony called James from the suit as it blasted towards Washington D.C., ignoring the warning numbers on the screen as the arc reactor surged to maintain the suits demand for power and the projected poison levels in his blood climbed higher.

“Tony?”

Just hearing James’s voice made Tony’s resolve falter, and he was glad he’d programmed in the auto pilot for D.C. as the need to turn around and forget what he’d learned, forget about Project Resurrection and the Ghost Protocol climbed strangling up his throat.

“Hey.” he tried for bright, but was afraid it only came out miserable. “Why don’t you fly out to DC tonight? Have Pepper come with you in the jet. I have to get to a meeting that’s taken about three years to arrange, so I took a suit.”

“I can just wait till you get home again, sugar.” Happy called something in the background and James laughed and the sound almost killed Tony. “What sorta meeting was so important it took three years to set up?”

“Nothing you should worry about.” Tony lied. “But it would be fun to have dinner in D.C. or something, right? I’d like to see you tonight.”

James’s voice got soft, “Dunno how I feel about getting back into D.C. but I’d like to see you tonight too. You feeling better? Last night you were real tired.”

“I’m feeling better.” Tony promised and he’d never lied so much in his life. “Let me know when you guys land and I’ll send a car for you. See you soon?”

“See you real soon, sweet thing.”

********

From Rhodey: Pep says you’re in D.C.? If you aren’t sucking face with soldier boy, let’s get dinner.

From Tony: Only if it’s one of those giant steak eating places.

From Rhodey: Tones, last time we ate at one of those I threw up for three days.

From Tony: And you were gorgeous the entire time.

From Rhodey: I hate you

From Tony: Smooches!

It was so damn easy to lie over text message, maybe that was how Tony should handle every conversation from now until 100%.

It was warm out, but Tony still wore a long sleeve to hide the handcuff on his wrist that attached to the briefcase at his side. Eventually--if he had time-- he was going to tap the tech into a watch that would form into a gauntlet and then a suit from there but for now he had to carry the admittedly stylishly packaged armor at his side.

JARVIS was right, using the suit took more energy than the other ones simply because it assembled in place instead of using robotics to piece together around him, but it had been worth it to get to D.C. so quickly...

...and it would be worth it tonight if everything went right and he needed to leave. If everything fell into place the way it should, but the way Tony kept secretly hoping it wouldn’t, he would leave and not take anyone with him so the suit was perfect.

Perfectly like a prison he kept willingly locking himself into and wasn’t that a piece of poetry worthy of writing down or at the very least making into a tragic movie or maybe he could request it got put in his biography because there should be at least one true thing amidst all the crap they were going to write about Tony Stark.

At least one line should be truth, even if everything else was written by people who had never known him at all.

But he shouldn’t think about that. Not yet. Not at only seventy percent, he had another ten maybe fifteen percent before he had to think about a biography, right?

Right?

Christ, it was getting hard to think.

The SHIELD headquarters were ostentatious and ugly, an eyesore at the banks of the river and a clear warning to anyone who thought to look twice at the city and dare to take a shot. The Pentagon might house the dressed up generals who gave out orders, but SHIELD was the real power behind the United States Government right now.

The ugly building housed all the best minds, all the best weaponry, and spoke of a clearly visible statement Director Fury and Secretary Pierce had been less and less subtle about in the past few years-- Fuck. Off. America is done playing nice.

Not that Tony blamed them for being so blatantly bold. There was no need to be subtle when there was an actual legendary super soldier leading the charge to protect America’s interests both at home and abroad, right?

Tony and Fury met in a little cafe along the river, the eatery quiet and unobtrusive in a way that was meant to be as visibly invisible as possible. There was nothing particularly interesting about the staff or their uniforms, the menu didn’t boast anything that would garner extra attention, there was never a chalkboard out front with a gimmick or sale to draw pedestrians in to try a daily special.

It was the sort of cafe someone either went to as a habit, or never even noticed on their commute and it was exactly the sort of cafe where Nick Fury preferred to get his tuna melt sandwich.

“Well this is quaint and terrible.” Tony sat down across from Fury with suitcase settled between his feet and sunglasses firmly on his face. “What happened to high profile business meetings at steakhouses, or at the very least good greasy pizza? And are you eating a tuna melt? With a fork?”

“Contrary to what you might believe, my Ma didn’t raise a heathen.” Fury was a sight to behold in his trademark trench coat, intimidating eye patch and somehow more intimidating single eye, a napkin tucked neatly at his collar and a knife and fork held daintily to cut his sandwich into bite sized pieces. “And this isn’t as good as hers used to be, but it does just fine for our conversation today.”

“Alright then.” Tony motioned to the waiter, and pointed towards Fury’s plate. “Could I have the same thing please? Make mine with pickles.”

“You’re pushing it.” Fury warned. “You don’t disrespect a sandwich by putting pickles on it.”

“Ma’am, would you make that extra pickles please?”

“Damn you, Stark.”

“Don’t tell me how to eat a sandwich and I won’t tell you to not do all of--” Tony made a vague motion to encompass all of Fury’s look. “--all of this. You look like the Grim Reaper.”

“And you look like a man the Grim Reaper isn’t too far from visiting.” Fury stabbed his fork at Tony bluntly. “Lookin’ like chicken shit these days, Stark. What’s going on?”

“Nothing that matters.” Tony waved off the Director’s sarcastic concern. “I need to talk to you about two things and then we can move on.”

The Director made a ‘go ahead’ motion and went back to eating. Tony watched the knife and fork dissection of a perfectly respectable tuna melt for a moment and then stated, “I don’t trust Pierce. I went to his party a few weeks ago and got a real sketchy vibe from him.”

“Uh-huh.” Fury nodded. “And?”

“And since you have the whole all seeing eye thing going on, I thought you’d want to know.” Tony smiled up at the waitress when she brought him the sandwich, and with eyes firmly on Fury, took a huge bite and crunched deliberately through the pickles. “How do you feel about him lately?”

“I feel like the world’s most reckless billionaire should be more concerned about the effects all that poisoning is having on your complexion and less about what those of us in trench coats are doing.” Fury wiped his mouth and pointed over his shoulder to someone Tony couldn’t see. “Brace yourself, Stark.”

“Brace myself for wha---OW!” Tony jumped when a needle jammed into his neck, delivered courtesy of one rather spandexy clad Natalie Rushman. “Christ! Natalie, what the fuck!?”

“I forgot you still think her name is Natalie.” Fury pushed his plate away and then dragged a chair over for the redhead. “Tony Stark, meet Natasha Romanov. Former KGB agent, former Russian Foreign Intelligence Service, former traitor to that particular country and defector to this one, and currently my favorite agent at SHIELD.”

Tony rubbed at his neck a few times and scowled at Fury, then over at Natalie/Natasha. “Former KGB? That was dismantled in ‘91, and you’re only twenty four. Nice try.”

“You do pass for a very convincing twenty four, Tasha.” Fury took a sip of his water. “In fact Mr. Stark, Natasha here is an absolute beauty at the ripe old age of--”

“--you tell him I’m a day over thirty and I’ll cut your tongue out.” Natasha said coolly, and Tony blanched but Fury didn’t so much as blink. “Tony, I just gave you a shot of lithium dioxide. It’s not going to solve anything with the palladium, but it’s going to temporarily slow down the effects so you can focus. I know you’ve been struggling with it for a while, there’s no other way to explain how scattered you’ve been.”

“First you stab me, then you insult me? You are fired.” Tony breathed in slow and purposeful, then out again when his headache started to ease thanks to the hypodermic hit to the neck. “Warn a fella before you shank him, is this foreplay to you scary spandex types?”

Natasha gave him one of those always consistently enigmatic smirks and Tony accused, “How’d you get here so fast? Pretty sure Pepper told me you two were shopping today. In fact, I’m pretty sure she took the jet to Vegas just to spend a gross amount of money.”

“The moment you hung up with Director Fury I excused myself from Ms. Potts and headed towards D.C from Vegas.” Natasha held up her hand to stop the next words from Tony. “And yes, I know there’s no civilian aircraft that could possibly get me to D.C. faster than your suit would, but you left an hour or so after me and also, as everyone is now aware, I am not a civilian.”

Still literally and figuratively wounded from the jab to the neck, Tony only huffed at the redhead and went back to eating because honestly, a new secretary turning out to be a secret spy wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened. At least she was on their side, right? Later Tony could get a little hysterical about having a former KGB agent helping him pick out ties, but for right now, he had other things on his mind.

“Alright then. Ms. Romanov. How do you feel about Secretary Pierce?”

“I don’t think that’s the question you’ve come to ask.” Natasha deflected, green eyes glittering curiously. “So ask the other one.”

“Okay I will.” Tony put his sandwich down and pleated the napkin between his fingers until it tore. “How long have the two of you known the hundred year old prisoner of war Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was camping out in my house in Malibu?”

“If it makes you feel any better?” Director Fury shrugged. “We just thought he was the Winter Soldier. Wasn’t one hundred percent on the Barnes angle until recently.”

“The Winter Soldier.” Tony repeated, and this time his mind snapped into place with out the stuttered click click click of trying to process. It was almost like being him again and even though Tony knew the lithium oxide was a poison all in itself, he was already wondering how many shots of it he could take to remain lucid up until the end. “Ghost assassin from the sixties and seventies, silver arm, once thought to be Steve Rogers risen from the ice and back to seek revenge. It was James, instead. Product of Hydra experimentation, amiright?”

“And then some.” Fury nodded. “When Project Resurrection came to be and the Captain woke up, he asked for his best pal Bucky and then his best gal Peggy in exactly that order. SHIELD had been aware of the Winter Soldier for decades, but we couldn’t have imagined the connection to the missing Sergeant Barnes. The Captain saw a surveillance photo, said he’d recognize that scowl anywhere, and went off half feral trying to track him down.”

“Half-feral.” Tony glanced between the two of them. “Captain America. Are you serious?”

“I spent almost two years at his side.” Natasha spoke up. “Half feral is an understatement. I’ve never seen a man so determined to burn the world down if it meant finding his friend.”

“Two years.” Fury echoed. “And then just over a year ago, a few months before Stane engineered your trip to Afghanistan, the Winter Soldier dropped off the map. Guess Hydra got tired of having their spots blown to shit or something like that, decided to cut their losses and run.”

Tony only blinked and Fury explained, “Turns out the Captain isn’t exactly the aw shucks good ol boy those posters made him out to be. Anything that stood in the way of finding his Bucky went up in flames, and the man didn’t care if anyone was left inside. On more than one occassion, Romanov went into the rubble herself because the Captain wouldn’t do it. It was a wasted effort though, there were never any survivors.”

Tony looked around and then lowered his voice. “Captain America let people die like that?”

“Not the aw shucks good ol boy we all thought.” The Director repeated. “Never seen a man so angry in my life when we lost the Soldier. Definitely never could have predicted you’d show up with him as your date at a few high profile event. I see a lot.” Fury pointed to his one good eye. “But even I didn’t see that coming.”

“Does the Captain know about James?”

“We thought it was best to feel out the situation and see if we were dealing with the Winter Soldier or if we were actually seeing Sergeant Barnes.” Fury hedged. “Wanted to be sure we weren’t going to walk into a situation with a still activated super assassin when from all appearances, he’s just a nice kid with some memory loss situations. Captain Rogers isn’t the sort to knock and ask to come in, he would have brought that fancy Malibu house of yours down into the ocean trying to get his friend.”

“That seems a little over the top, but--”

“--but you’ve never been seventy years out of your own time looking for the one person in the world who can understand what you’ve been through.” Natasha interrupted. “I’m telling you, there isn’t anything that would stop the Captain from trying to get to his Bucky.”

“His Bucky.” Tony echoed faintly. “Is that so?”

“I’ve been watching James for several weeks now.” Natasha’s voice dipped in sympathy when Tony’s face flickered with misery. I don’t think he remembers anything about his time as the Winter Soldier, but you’re closer to him. What do you think? Do you think he knows who he was?”

“No way.” Tony denied tiredly. “James doesn’t know anything. Not his last name, nothing about technology or recent history. He panicked about using too many eggs the other day and now that I know what I still can’t fucking believe I know... it makes sense. In some weird way, everything I know about James makes perfect sense now.”

“So Sergeant Barnes doesn’t remember anything before he showed up in D.C.?”

“Nothing at all.” Tony said adamantly. “He remembers waking up beneath a bridge and then everything’s a blur for a while and he’s not sure how much time passed. He thinks he lived a year in D.C. before meeting me, but he doesn’t know anything beyond that.”

“That could be for the best.” Natasha muttered, and Fury nodded.

“Well you can be sure we will be keeping an eye on the situation.” the waitress came by for the plates and Fury waited until she was gone before mentioning oh so casually, “I have something that belongs to you, by the way. Your dad left it in storage along with instructions to give it to you when you were ready.”

“I have everything I want of Howard’s and none of it’s worth anything at all.” Tony shook his head. “Forget about it, I want to meet the Captain.”

“You’re going to want this.” Fury countered, and pulled up a photo on his phone. “The real thing is about ten times heavier than anything I’d ever want to life, but take a look at it anyway.”

“I’ve seen this.” Tony barely glanced at the picture. “It’s Dad’s diorama model of the Stark Expo. I used to race my cars up and down the roads until he screamed at me to stop. Why would I want a giant piece of cardboard that holds so many shitty memories for me?”

“I don’t know why you want it.” Fury put his phone away again. “And I don’t know why Howard wanted you to have it. Something about how you’d see the design when no one else could, and how he wouldn’t ever have access to the tools necessary to make it a reality, but you’d probably be the one to invent the technology to make it happen.”

“That’s nice.” Tony pulled out a couple twenties and dropped them on the table to cover the bill. “Put it in the mail and I’ll open it when I get back to Malibu. I’m feeling normal for the first time since Afghanistan and I’m not going to waste it on some homework from beyond the grave. Take me to see the Captain.”

“He’s going to be cranky.” Fury tried one last time to stall the stubborn billionaire. “He doesn’t really sleep much, and since losing track of the Soldier, I don’t think he sleeps more than a few hours a week. Maybe you don’t show up as your patented brand of asshole, huh?”

“I do what I want.” Tony stood up and patted the Director on the shoulder. “I’ll see you and Mrs. Super Spy later on. We should talk about Pierce.”

“I know what you’re doing Stark.” Fury said then, and Tony paused. “You’re getting everything set up so when that poison kills you off, your boytoy is set with someone he knows and loves.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“I’d say it’s admirable, but really I think it’s cowardly.” Fury shrugged. “You’re doing all this without even trying to fight, without figuring out a way to beat it. Gonna sign ye olde master assassin over to the Man with a Plan and then jet off somewhere dramatic to die. Cowardly way out.”

“I’ve exhausted all my options.” Tony said flatly. “I’ve tried everything over and over and nothing works. Now my option is to make sure the people I care about can keep on going with out me. How is that cowardly?”

“This might shock you, but the world will keep turning without Tony Stark in it.” the Director retorted, and Tony shot back, “Yeah well, at least this way it keeps turning with my loved ones well taken care of. Send the address to my phone please, I’ve got a star spangled super soldier to meet.”

Natasha sent a text with directions to Tony’s phone, and after Tony had stalked out and hailed a cab, she turned to ask Fury, “Why does he want to talk about Pierce?”

“Don’t you worry about Pierce.”

“Director--”

“Ms. Romanoff, I am already dealing with Secretary Pierce. Don’t you worry.”

“Do you really think he’s being cowardly?”

“I think if Tony Stark wasn’t so tired of living in pain, he’d realize he could just invent something new to cure himself.” Fury stated. “I watched his dad create scientific miracles out of every day things. Watched his Auntie Peggy create unbreakable codes based on her knitting patterns. He’s been so obsessed with being Iron Man that he’s forgotten he’s Tony Stark. If anyone can fix what is literally killing them, its a Stark. Hell, he did it once in a cave with a box of scraps. He should damn well be able to do it in a state of the art lab.”

Natasha’s lips tipped up at the corner. “You like him.”

“I think he’s a spoiled brat with a small man complex.” Fury picked up the dessert menu. “But I think our world is a lot better off with him in it, so yeah. I’d appreciate if he didn't keel over and die.”

“You like him.”

“You’re pushing it, Romanov.”

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

It was fifteen minutes to a low rise apartment building, three flights up stairs and then down a long hallway until Tony could raise his hand and knock at the door of a piece of American history

Two knocks and then three more just because Tony was impatient even on his best days and today was not one of his best days.

Besides, when else would he have the chance annoy an actual living Smithsonian relic by knocking too many times at their--

“Can I help you?” The door swung open to Big and Blond and Patriotic, deep blue eyes and a square jaw, ruggedly handsome in a way that the old posters and pictures had never come close to capturing, and the sort of bulging All American Muscles that belonged on a Lumberjack’s Weekly pin up calendar.

Holy Spangles, Batman. Tony thought, and then grinned internally because that hit to the neck might have hurt but at least it had given him back Grade-A witty one liners. Thank you, Ms. Rushman-Romanov.

“Captain Steven Rogers.” he finally dragged his eyes away from the muscles and up to the piercing gaze. “It's nice to officially meet you. Name’s Tony Stark, long time fan, first time fanboy. How are you?”

“Tony Stark.” Captain Rogers extended a hand big enough to cover Tony’s entire face. “Howard’s boy, isn’t that right? Director Fury has mentioned you a few times. Figures you’d know about me being awake, though I’m a little surprised it took you this long to track me down. Howard wasn’t exactly the patient, subtle type and Fury made it seem like you inherited all those qualities as well.”

Tony blinked, and Captain Rogers grimaced. “Ah. Sorry. That came out worse than I intended. I’ve never been quite as charming as those old movies like to pretend I was.”

“No that’s--” Tony blinked again. “It’s fine. It’s actually a little hilarious-- um--”

“I was real sorry to hear about your parents passing.” The Captain’s blue eyes dimmed in sympathy. “I didn’t know your Ma, but despite me and Howard’s differences, we worked together for several years. He was a good man.”

“He was an asshole even on his best days.” Tony finally found his words, and offered a smile to his childhood nemesis hero. “But that doesn’t change the good work he did, so thanks. And yes, I inherited all of his less than charming traits and created a few more of my own which is why I’ve known about you and Project Resurrection for a few years now but just couldn't muster the interest to give a damn.”

“Any by the way, if you were a brunette, I’d be charming your pants off.” Tony winked because he couldn’t stop himself from flirting with an American icon. “But you’re blond, so consider yourself safe from my efforts. That and it’s hard to think sexy thoughts about the literal embodiment of the American flag.”

Good God, even the Captain’s laugh was patriotic, head thrown back and a hand over his heart like he was pledging allegiance to hilarity and Tony looked away to hide an answering grin. Shit, he didn’t want to like Steve Rogers, he had spent his entire life trying to measure up to the bastard, he didn’t want to be making friends when they had more important things to talk about.

“If it makes you feel any better?” Captain Rogers was still cheesing a grin. “Under all that patriotism I’m just a loudmouth Brooklyn kid with a big mouth and not a single shred of self preservation.”

“Eh.” Tony made a show of shrugging. “You’re still blond. I tend to prefer them brunette--”

--he hesitated, then pulled out the picture of he and James together at the redwoods. “--And smolderingly intense in a scary ex soldier sort of way. You know the type?”

All laughter fell away in an instant, the surprisingly easy conversation Tony hadn’t expected to find with Captain Rogers ground to a halt, the smile on the big blond’s face wiped away as quickly as it had appeared.

“I took that in the redwoods last week.” Tony actually took a step backwards when powerful shoulders squared up and one of those massive hands closed into a fist. “Me and James-- we’ve been living together the last couple months. Figured it’s high time you and he got together again, you know?”

“James.” The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Not Bucky. He goes by James now?”

“James is the only name he knows.” Tony watched him carefully for any sign of what might be rage, but there was only heartbreak on the rugged features. “We’ve been looking for answers into his past, but it wasn’t until early this morning I came across a family link and traced it backwards. You can bet I was surprised as hell to find myself looking at a picture of you two when the facial recognition software finally pinged him.”

“I see.” The picture shook in the Captain’s fingers and nearly tore between his grip. “Mr. Stark--”

“Call me Tony.”

“Tony. I think you’d better come inside.”

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

The apartment housing the Greatest American Soldier was sparse to the point of being bare, clean to the point of being sterile, and warm enough that Tony broke into a sweat just walking through the door.

“Sheesh, Captain.” Tony undid a few buttons at his collar. “Tropical, much?”

“Sorry, I’ll turn it down.” The Captain really was massive, had to turn sideways to get down the narrow hall and to the thermometer. “I uh-- I’m always cold, you know?”

Tony waited with a raised eyebrow and Captain Rogers pursed his lips, shoved both hands into his pockets self consciously. “I did seventy years in the ice, Tony. That’s the sort of chill that gets into your bones. Into your soul. I’m always cold. Can’t seem to shake it.”

“I can fix that.” Tony spoke before thinking, the words eerily similar to his very first thought about James. Was it the super soldier thing that drove him to offer help? Or just the countdown and toxicity monitor and desperately tallying marks on the good karma side so maybe it would get him into heaven?

“I can fix that.” he said again. “I’d think a super soldier would run hot because of your metabolism, so the cold is probably psychosomatic and a weighted blanket or even a sweater with heavier threads might take care of it. People equate weight with warmth, and being covered with being safe so if you let me get some sizes I could have my AI run some programs and figure out a material that could--”

He stopped when the big blond just looked at him. “Sorry, Captain. I tend to ramble. Alot.”

“Call me Steve.” the Captain went for some water and handed a bottle to Tony, then sat down in a nearby chair and clasped his hands between his knees. “And you know, your Dad did that too? He’d get an idea and talk for an hour and you’d start the conversation not even knowing you needed the thing he ended up handing you when he was finished.”

“Sounds like Dad.” Tony agreed. “Guess I did inherit all his annoying habits.”

“You must get your looks from your Ma, then.” Steve said casually, and when Tony about fell out of his chair in surprise, he grinned. “Oh no, not for me. I mean sure, I can appreciate a good lookin’ fella just as much as the next guy, but I used to tell Buck if he got together with Howard--”

“I might actually throw up if you finish that sentence.”

“--then we could double date, but he said he’d sooner kiss Dugan.” he finished and Tony breathed out noisily in relief. “If he likes you, you must look like your Ma. Buck couldn’t hardly stand to be in the same room as Howard.”

And then almost awkwardly, “No offense meant.”

“None taken, most days I couldn’t handle it either.” Tony rolled the water bottle between his palms. “So um, how are you adjusting to life in the twenty first--”

“Tell me about Bucky.” Steve interrupted and Tony’s mouth clicked shut. “I wanna know everything. Where did you find him? How did you find him? Does he know who he is? Who I am? Does he know about--”

He clenched his jaw. “--does he remember being the Winter Soldier?”

“Captain.” Tony began slowly, but Steve cut him off again, “It’s just Steve, Tony. Captain Rogers, Captain America, that’s not who I am. I’m Steve. Call me Steve.”

“Steve.” he started again. “James--er, Bucky-- and I met a few months ago in a diner right here in D.C. I don’t know if you watch the news at all, but I was mid Senate meeting and mid nervous break down, apparently he was just there having breakfast. I saw he was missing an arm--”

“--his left arm?”

“--his left arm.” Tony nodded. “And since I have a weird assortment of various robotic arm pieces laying around the house, I told him I could build him a new one. I gave him a whole spiel about wanting to do some good and that he didn’t have to take me up on the offer but he told me--”

“--that you got a pretty smile.” Steve interjected. “Yeah, you’re just his type. Dark hair, pretty eyes, big smile. Just his type.”

The simple statement from the soldier warmed Tony clear down to his heart, and he ducked his head to hide a barely there flush. “Uh, anyway. He came home to Malibu with me and we’ve been there ever since. He’s getting better. No more panic attacks and his Brooklyn accent comes out more every day and um--”

It felt awkward talking to a total stranger about his boyfriend--partner? He was too old to call someone a boyfriend, right?

It felt more awkward talking to a total stranger that wasn’t really a total stranger considering how Tony knew everything everything about Steve Rogers and Howard had literally helped create the soldier. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who actually knew James Bucky better than Tony could ever hope to. More awkward talking to a not-total stranger who knew Bucky better than Tony did and would be around at Bucky’s side after Tony--

--after Tony--

“--sometimes I think he’s remembering things, but then I don’t really know.” he finished lamely. “Captain, er Steve. I’ll be honest, it seems weird to tell you about your best friend. I can tell you that he doesn’t have nightmares anymore and that he hasn’t had a panic attack in weeks. He likes Rocky Road ice cream and looks great in the color red and when he calls me sweet thing I actually melt a little bit inside. What else do you want to know?”

“I just want to know if he’s okay.” Steve said softly, softly, spread his hands helplessly and made those All American baby blues as heartbreakingly earnest as possible. “Tony, I woke up from the ice and found a picture of the Winter Soldier and spent the next two years trying to figure out what the hell had happened to my best pal. How did he survive the fall? Who captured him? What have they been doing with him? To him?”

The Captain’s throat jerked when he swallowed. “Does he-- does he smile? Do you make him smile? Or is he real quiet now? Did they ruin him? Break him?”

Steve got to his feet to pace, rubbing his hands down his thighs in agitation. “I’ve read all the Winter Soldier files, Tony. I know what they did to him. You know they-- they didn’t do that stuff to me. Howard juiced me up and sent me out the door but Bucky? He was always a good soldier but there’s a lot of steps between a good soldier and a master assassin. What they did to him to make him into the Soldier…”

His steps stuttered, faltered, and when Steve turned around to pin Tony with a look, his jaw was set stubbornly. “Tell me how he really is. Did they break him? Is he even Bucky anymore?”

“I don’t know if he’s Bucky anymore.” Tony said slowly, honestly. “But I know he’s James, and he’s a good man. Not broken. Definitely hurt, but not broken. He’s-- I think he’s okay, Captain. Or at least he’s getting better.”

“Okay.” Steve dropped back down onto the chair and the springs groaned under his weight. “Okay okay okay. Have you done any research on the Winter Soldier? About what he did?”

“No.”

“Don’t.” That super soldier strength showed up when the arms of the chair splintered beneath Steve’s fingers. “Tony, for your own sake. Don’t. I haven’t read the mission files because it makes me sick to my stomach but I saw enough of what they did to him to know there can’t be anything good in the other ones.”

Tony’s whole body went cold, horror stricken and wanting to scream thinking about his soldier, his Brooklyn being hurt for however long he’d been captive as the Winter Soldier. “What they did to him?”

“Experiments.” Steve muttered hoarsely. “Testing his strength, his healing factor. Whatever super juice they gave him, they had to make sure it worked so they experimented. Broke major bones to time how long it took to heal up again. Put bullets close to major arteries wondering if he’d bleed out. Made him run until he was vomiting and couldn’t take another step to check his endurance.”

“Shit.”

“They wiped his mind after every mission.” the Captain continued miserably. “Got him to the point where all he could do was carry out orders. That’s not even human, they took his soul Tony. My best friend and they took his soul. Wiped it away every time they hooked him up to that damn chair--”

“Chair?”

“--it had straps.” Steve made a motion and Tony’s heart sank, then sank further still when he added, “I crashed a set up once and it was this monstrous chair. Straps and hooks and this helmet thing that went down over his head to fry his brain.”

“What--” Tony wet his lips, flashes of that first awful panic attack hitting him like a punch to the stomach. “-- What did you do to the chair?”

“Broke it apart with my bare hands and then snapped some bad guy’s femur just because I wasn’t done breaking things.” Steve said coldly, calmly. “I can’t read the mission files, not after seeing that. I don’t think you should read them either. Buck deserves to have people who look at him and don’t see everything he did as the Soldier. He deserves to be loved by people who just see him.”

“Yeah, I--” Tony dug his fingers into his knees and bit back a heartbroken noise. “Yeah, he does. So what did you do with the data? It can’t just be out there, that’s not--”

Even now, his brain was shifting into gear, trying to figure out the next step, trying to figure out what he could do to fix what had happened with James or how he could make sure it never came back to ruin his soldier’s new life. “--it can’t be out there for someone else to find. What did you do with it?”

“Natasha dumped it all.” The Captain informed him. “Burned it, erased it, whatever she does. I’m not really up on all the tech of this century yet. But she swore it was gone, and that’s all I care about.”

“You trust her?”

“...I do.” Steve’s smile was almost… melancholy. Almost lonely. “Most people wouldn’t, but she hasn’t lied to me once so I have no reason to think she would about this.”

“Alright.” It was a relief to know the Winter Soldier’s actions weren’t out there for anyone to find, a relief to know someone else was looking out for James the same way Tony wanted to. “That’s-- that’s good. If Captain America can trust her with that, I can trust her too.”

“Yeah.” Steve screwed his eyes shut tight and pushed out a long breath. “Tony um-- can I see him? Feels weird to ask permission to see my own best friend, but I think you know him better than I do at this point. Can I see him? Will you bring him back to D.C., or could I come with you to Malibu? I searched for him for so long, Tony. The canyon below the train-- I spent days there. Days in the snow trying to find him, and I spent the first years waking up trying to find him… can I see him?”

Quieter, almost afraid, “Do you think he’ll know me?”

“I don’t know.” Tony said honestly, and Steve’s shoulders hunched in like the words physically hurt. “But they should be landing here in D.C. in a few hours and I already sent him this address.”

“Seriously?” Steve’s head snapped up. “You would-- you didn’t even know me. You told him to come here when you hadn’t met me yet?”

“You’re Captain America.” Tony shrugged carelessly, shrugged like his heart wasn’t tearing in two right there in his chest as everything he’d feared started falling into place. This was the right decision but it hurt and his heart could have collapsed under the strain. “And he’s Sergeant Barnes. There’s no question you two should be spending time together, in fact, I’m probably just in the way. I’ll bring him in and as soon as I know James is okay, I’ll leave you in peace and let you get reacquainted.

“That’s amazing.” Steve lit up with a mega watt grin. “Tony, thank you. Thank you. You’re giving me a piece of my life back, I swear. I don’t even know where to begin to thank you.”

“Just...take care of him.”

“I promise I will.” the Captain swore. “I promise. I’ll help him readjust to life and we’ll figure out… I dunno. Netflix together? I’ll help him Tony, I will.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Tony tried for a smile that didn’t feel like it was crumbling at the edges. “Now. Are you a enough of a rebel to have a beer in this place while we wait? Or still too good ol’ boy for that?”

“Are you kidding?” Steve laughed again, and yep, Tony would have been seeing stars and stripes if he hadn’t been blinking back tears. “Good beer is the best part of this century! And I don’t get drunk, so I’ve been trying them all! Come on and pick one out!”

“Picking out a beer with Captain America.” Tony struggled to his feet with a hand over his chest and followed the blond to the tiny kitchen. “How could anyone pass that up?”

“Tony!” Steve sounded immeasurably lighter, the smile on his face evident in his voice as he called, “Does Bucky ever listen to music anymore? Have you ever heard of the Andrews Sisters? We heard them sing the night he shipped out for the war, this was his favorite song!”

Before Tony could object or protest or fall to his knees and beg for mercy because he didn’t think he could take another second of this self inflicted torture, the all too familiar beginning notes of ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’ floated through the apartment and everything got worse.

“Me and Pegs used to dance to this.” Steve tossed Tony a beer he could only barely catch. “She made Buck dance too even though he didn’t have any interest in the other dames. She always said one day he’d find a fella to dance with too, have you guys danced together yet?”

“Once.” Tony said faintly. “Just uh-- just the once.”

He closed his eyes when the song got to the chorus, when the beat changed and he could almost feel James pulling him in closer like he’d done that night in the lab when everything changed between them.

“...just the once.”

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

“Hey babydoll.” James was confused when he finally made it up to the apartment door, confused and stiff when he bent to give Tony a kiss hello. “This is uh--” he cleared his throat. “Don’t like being back here, Tony. D.C. doesn’t have any good memories for me. I didn’t want to come.”

“I know.” Tony stood on his toes to chase one more kiss, gratified when James automatically wound an arm at his waist to hold him. “And I’m sorry but this is important, alright? What we’re doing here is important.”

“Important like the way Pepper’s fancy parties are important?” James teased halfheartedly, and tugged at Tony’s shirt sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. I’m a real big fan of the way you’ve blown off work the last few weeks to spend time with me, we should keep doing that.”

“James.” Tony tried for words and failed, squeezed at James’s fingers and tried again, “I’ve got someone you should meet. Re-meet. Someone you used to know and I think it’s important you see him again. I think he can fill in a lot more blanks, help you out a lot more than I can, alright?”

“I don’t want anyone helping me but you.” James glanced around the hallway, glanced at the door and out the far window, then back down at Tony, shoulders set uncomfortably tense and jaw clenched. “Tony, can we go? Something feels weird here, I don’t like it.”

“It will feel better in a few minutes.” Tony promised. “Just um-- be brave, Brooklyn. Okay?”

“Brave? Tony, I’m telling you this don’t feel right, I don’t want to be--”

Tony turned the knob and shoved the door open before James could finish the sentence, pushed the soldier through into the living room and then hung back to just watch.

Be brave, Brooklyn.

“Bucky.” Steve stood in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets and chin ducked like he was trying to look small, the unmistakable shield sat prominently on one of the chairs, that old picture of he and James from the Smithsonian propped up on the table.

“Holy shit.” The Captain choked out a strangled sort of laugh and freed his hands to run them both through his hair, tugging at the strands and then rubbing at his eyes as they filled with tears. “Bucky. It’s really you.”

James narrowed his eyes at the big blond, at the picture and at the shield, then looked back at Tony in confusion.

“Bucky? Who the hell is--”

Click click click.

“I had ‘em on the ropes.”

“Yeah Stevie, sure you did.”

Click click click.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

Click click click.

“You’re keeping the suit, right?

Click Click Click

“I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Click click click.

I know him.

Stevie.

“...Stevie?”

The Captain covered the room in two big steps and James met him in the middle for a bone crushing, desperate hug. James’s legs crumpled and Steve caught him halfway down, Captain America crying unashamed tears and swearing under his breath as he smoothed Jame’s hair back from his face to get a good look at him.

“Stevie?”

“Christ, Bucky I can’t believe I finally found you. I finally found you and I’m never gonna let anything happen to you again, I swear it. I swear it.” ----

--- Tony closed the door to the apartment and walked alone down the hallway, took the stairs up to the roof and stood for a long time looking over the city, over the monuments in the distance and the barest glimmer of blue from the river.

His phone rang and it was James but Tony ignored it so he could undo the latches on the briefcase suit and step into the boots, shivering as the armor climbed his body and encased him in cold metal before it warmed to his temperature.

His phone rang and it was James, and the picture on the screen was of them at the redwoods, the name beneath “Sergeant Barnes” because already James wasn’t James anymore, he was Sergeant Barnes, he was Bucky.

His phone rang and it was James and JARVIS intoned, “Sir, it’s Sergeant Barnes calling.”

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered and the call shut down as the suit powered up.

“May I remind you sir that extended use of this suit specifically strains--”

“I remember.” Tony closed his eyes for a minute. “Send a message to Rhodey? Tell him I won’t make dinner tonight. He won’t be surprised, I’ve missed at least a hundred dinners. Call Pep and remind her that I owe her something expensive and sparkly and to pick out whatever she’d like.”

“...Yes sir.”

“JARVIS.” Tony’s chest tightened until he couldn’t breathe. “Enable Ghost Protocol.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just like we talked about.” Tony was shaking inside the suit, grateful for the exoskeleton that kept him on his feet. “I won’t let this be catastrophic and I-- I can’t watch while James realizes he doesn’t need me anymore. Start the process now.”

In the lab in Malibu, lights in the lab started to dim and the myriad of suits Tony had worked on for months drew back into the walls. The lock codes blinking on each panel changed from Tony’s preferences to ones coded to Honeybear, to Rhodey, to Sourpatch and Platypus, on and on the list went.

Computer screens flickered as dozens of letters went out to various charities and foundations, notifications of soon-to-be-arriving checks meant for specific projects that desperately needed funded. Signed paperwork irrevocably keeping Pepper as CEO and turning over any stock held by Tony Stark to her after a death certificate was produced was sent off to the proper compliance departments to make sure everything was legal.

A program was uploaded into Dum-E’s limited software that would allow the robot to function a bit safer and up it’s interaction levels to ones that would make the kiddos in the Children’s Wing at the Cancer Center smile and laugh whenever it rolled through the halls.

Back in Washington, JARVIS’s comforting monotone listed off each point of Ghost Protocol as it was engaged and completed, and the phone rang as Sergeant Barnes tried again and again and again.

“Send it to voicemail.” Tony whispered through a sheen of tears, and the call went silent as the Iron Man armor took off from the roof and soared into the darkening sky, punching through the atmosphere and heading for the stars.

This was the right decision.

Send it to voicemail.

73%

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

Chapter Notes:

Did you cry? I cried.

I love Steve in this verse. The “First Winteriron, then Steve comes Along” dynamic is something I’ve never written, and I’ve also never written Fresh from the Freezer Steve and I sort of love him??

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

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

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @justaniche @actual-demon-belial

@quietgayguy @bluedreamdino @akimi-youngblood @blackstar1602 @dixiehellcat @travellover1245 @capnstarkey @the-awkward-teenaged-one @thanossucks @peteryoulittleshit @tony-and-steeeb @striving-artist @roe-sesandthorns @coolsidedpillow @i-am-worth-it-25 @firelightmystic @maligatorthealigator @simsccsol @a-tardis-in-221b @happyendingrequired @everygoodoneistaken11 @pootie-and-the-snoots @megahuffledor @xkissmeimirishx @crystalskrull @hazelbeatsturtle @wecollectnightmares @endrega23 @saganarojanaolt @the-crazy-house @ravynfyre @yomama-umbridge @lovely--tony @gayspacesprinkles @elliotkaingrey @warmachinesocks @glitternotgold73

#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanov #nick fury

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mhilkshake · 4 years

Text

— changbin x reader

— bad boy! changbin x good girl! reader

○ author's note: requested by @straykids-yohhhh, here you go angel! i'm sorry i took long, i had some matters to attend to and this might not spark up your expectations of my writing. thank you for requesting!

people were confused with your relationship to the notorious seo changbin.

you had a reputation of being a good girl, always having perfect marks and kind to everyone. you never would have thought that people would even notice you, but people in your school always liked sticking their noses in other people's businesses or search for some juicy content to manifest on.

seo changbin to say, was a whole different story.

he always went to detention for being caught skipping classes, or starting fights and he gets those times in a room by himself to sleep. he was a rule breaker, but he wasn't an asshole as people would have thought of him. they made up titles for him as that 'bad boy' with his eyebrow cut, his unbuttoned uniform and his expensive necklaces he always wore. but to you, he was never once a bad guy.

to you, he was the softest. he never slept well without his stuffed toy, gyu. he always gave you his meat whenever you ate up all of yours when you hung out together at lunch break. those little things made you look at him in a different light when you heard those nasty rumors of him.

he wasn't as bad as they thought. he only went to detention after that fight because those guys threatened him to hurt you, of course you were oblivious. he skipped classes when you were sick to visit you at your house.

all because he liked you.

but he never told you, he didn't want to break the bond you already had.

he was yet in detention again and you creeped inside the room when the teacher went out, meeting your eyes and nodding at you as a sign that he had acknowledged your presence and allowed changbin to be free since it was dismissal already. you just came back from one free period you spent on studying, since there would be a test tomorrow and of course, you copied some notes from the lectures of earlier classes and transferred it to a clean paper to give to changbin.

you saw from the door that changbin had his head down, facing the door you had entered from, sleeping. his light snores were the only sounds in the room along with the breeze of the wind due to the opened windows.

walking closer to his sleeping figure, you could already make out the blood seeping from the corner of his lip and a bruise on his cheekbone, he got into another fight again. you crouched down to his level and stared at him in wonder, your eyes taking in his features up close without the usual poker face he harbored.

on the weeks you spent together, you could feel yourself falling for changbin. he was just so soft and tender towards you that you have a soft spot for him in your heart. he was always cold to other people but that didn't mean he was cold to you. and although it was greedy of you, you wanted his undivided attention all to yourself.

you smiled at the thought and continued staring at him until you noticed the time. you snapped out of your momentary scanning and lifted your arms to poke his cheek, "hey, seo changbin," you softly call out.

you poked him again and he stirred out awake, "it's past five already, i have your notes with me and," you gulped as he opened his eyes, you were still glued to your position and his eyes met yours.

you were melting at this point as he stared back at you, "and we need to get those injuries fixed." you continue and he just grins at you.

"i thought i told you to stop taking down notes for me?" he mumbled and you scoffed, "excuse me mr. seo, but who told you that i'm doing it for your well-being? i'm doing this for the money you have there," you joked and he smiled, moving lightly so he could sit up and ruffle your hair.

you blushed at the contact and all words were stuck in your throat, "i see, we should go then ms. nanny if you want to get your paycheck for today's hardwork," he stood up and held a hand at you.

you took his hand lightly and he pulled you way too hard that had you stumbling forward towards him who backed away one step at the impact when your body was painfully close to his, his hand automatically on your waist while yours glued itself to his shoulders for leverage.

his eyes were widened when you stared at him but he held your waist tightly, not wanting to let go.

in that moment, you didn't want to move away from his grip as you stared at each other. he stared at you lips for a minute too long until he was leaning in. you were stationary to your spot, your heart beating so fast that you feered that he could hear it. you were waiting for his lips to meet with yours until a loud vibration from a cellphone rang through the silent room.

changbin was just centimeters away from your lips when his phone rang and he sighed, frustrated that his phone had to ruin his chance. but also embarrassed that his intention through his action was so obvious.

you two broke away slowly, not wanting to break apart but needing to seeing as changbin had to take the call. while changbin was talking to the phone, you turned you back to him as he glanced at you from time to time to fan yourself with your hands, in hopes of lessening the burn on your cheeks from his actions.

your heart was beating loudly from your chest, so you put your hand on it to soothe the erratic beating, "so, uh, we gotta go," you spun around to his voice while changbin stood there, hand scratching the back of his neck awkwardly and you could see the faintest shade of pink in his cheeks as he looked down.

you almost stutter, "oh, alright then,"

"i brought my motorbike this morning since chan told me his dad fixed it yesterday, so.." he trailed off, practically asking you if you were comfortable in riding the said motorbike with him.

you nodded and changbin immediately turned his back and walked out the room, you following him.

the corridors were silent, the only noise resting on the silence were the sounds of your shoes as you walked, trailing behind changbin who had a full blush on his face.

when you arrived outside, there weren't any signs of students anymore and the sky was getting darker, a shade of dark blue covering the entirety of the layer below the heavens. "i'll just get it from the back, stay here."

changbin dashes to the back of the building until he's out of sight and all you could do was bite your lip out of nervousness. all the things happening with him was quite intimate, in relation to all your past interactions which only involved the light brushes of your hands whenever you guys walked back together to your house. you cross your arms from the cold as you grip the strap of your backpack tightly.

then, a black motorbike appears in front of you with changbin as the driver, wearing a similar matte black helmet. he sits up from his bending position and takes the other helmet resting on the handle of his motorbike. as he held the helmet to you, he looked at your direction and opened the screen of his helmet.

one word: hot.

it actually pertained to both the adjective and the noun. changbin looked hot doing that and your face was hot from thinking about it. you shook your head and grabbed the helmet from him, pitting it up your head and dowm to your face.

you put one leg over the motorbike amd climbed on it, your hands were flailing around and changbin took notice of that. confused on where to put it, you tried putting it behind you but because of the structure of his motorbike, you looked like you were about to do push ups so changbin looked to the side and took your arms in his hands, ushering your body forward until it met his and your arms were around his waist. you blushed furiously and changbin did too, covering it up with a clear of his throat, "hold tight."

then he leaned forward and the motorbike went away from the school and to the bustling city of seoul. you had your arms wound tightly on changbin's waist and he smiled at that, finding confidence over it as you leaned your head on his back, smiling.

changbin took a sharp turn and the motorbike had slowed down, indicating that you guys were nearing your destination which was a pharmacy?

oh right, his wounds.

the motorbike stopped and you took your arms off changbin and he missed your warmth as he stripped himself of his helmet, you doing the same. you got off the mtorbike and ran your hands through your hair, tidying it as you scanned the streets.

next to you, changbin ushered you to stay outside at the benches while he went inside the pharmacy to buy some medicine for his face. when he came out, he grinned at you and brought up a black plastic next to his face, "you don't mind, do you?"

smiling at him which made him weak, you replied, "not at all,"

he sat next to you, leaving space between you to put the plastic and took out its contents; band aids, cotton buds and betadine. you immediately went to work, changbin staring at you the whole time as you opened the betadine and dipped the cotton bud on it.

you started on the cut on his eyebrow and he hissed, you blew on it as you continued dabbing the cotton bud on his wound whilst he stared at you, you praying that he wouldn't hear how your heart beat against its ribcage.

"how'd you get into a fight again? was lucas bothering you again?" you asked at him softly and he swooned at your voice, "no, this guy.." he trailed off, wondering whether or not he should tell you.

as you continued of treating his cut, he resumed, "this guy told me that he'd lay more than a finger on you if i didn't back away from you," you stopped and glanced at him and resumed your work, sighing.

"you know i wouldn't mind getting hurt if it's to continue to be with you, right? why would you fight that guy?" you retorted, "i'm not some damsel in distress,"

"but," changbin stopped.

"but what?" you asked him and continued south, trying hard not to pounce on him when you cleaned the spot on the corner of his lip. changbin could see you glancing at his lip every now and then.

he took the initiative and leaned in, your hands stopped and your lips met with his. you widened your eyes as he pulled away, facing you with a pout again, "it was younghoon, and i know how much you like him and i got jealous, he didn't say he'd lay something else than his finger on you, he told me he liked you and i didn't like it," changbin rambled on and on while you blushed.

he stared at you, "i want you all to myself, y/n, i don't want to share you with somebody else even if it meant getting into a fistfight, i like you so much that i don't kno-" you cut him off and leaned in to kiss him again.

he was shocked but eventually melted into the liplock and put his hands on your cheeks while you wound your arms on his neck, your head moving to the left. gaining newfound confidence, you bit changbin's bottom lip lightly and nibbled on it. he pinched your cheek and you smiled, pulling away from his lips and resting your forehead on his,

"i like you too."

#stray kids imagines #kpop imagines #kpop #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids smut #stray kids changbin #stray kids changbin imagine #stray kids changbin fluff #stray kids changbin angst #seo changbin #seo changbin imagine #seo changbin fluff #seo changbin angst

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shnuggletea · 4 years

Note

How about 16 x 75? Inuyasha and Kagome

16 plus 75 Prison AU and sharing a bed? We getting dirty now?? Okay, so Inuyasha x Kagome will be a nice change. Let’s see what you guys think and if you like it, I’ll continue it. Actually, kinda want to continue it anyway, it was A LOT of fun!! And I still have a lot more in my head to write for it so really this is just a snippet. Thank you for the ask @knowall7k, I really love this now lol. Here we go!!

Cell Mates

The tiny room had small stains on the floor and walls while the table before her wobbled with the slightest touch. It didn’t take much to figure out what sort of things happened in this room and it had she shaking the metal folding chair she was pushed into nearly an hour ago. She never should have gotten involved in those protests to end the internment camps. It would definitely not help her now.

Waiting was part of the game and secretly she hoped someone would soon enter and tell her to go home. After all, she’d been in her legal rights at those protests and she had done nothing wrong now. That is, nothing wrong if they didn’t look too close but even she wasn’t sure how much she had done...and how much she had screwed herself royally.

When the only door in the room opened, a stout man in a wrinkled suit walking in, and shut right after, her heart dropped into her toes.

“Ms. Higurashi…”

“Doctor. Dr. Higurashi…”

“My name is detective Haims. I’d like to go over the events you...witnessed earlier this evening?”

Setting a thick file before him, the detective looked down to hide his grin. Something Kagome caught and it had her stomach turning.

“You were found with the victim, his blood all over your hands…”

“Yes, but I’m a Doctor. And I was there because he’s my friend...”

This time, he let her see his sneer, and it grew as he watched her squirm. “Funny, as a Doctor, I’m surprised you haven’t asked me how your patient is doing?”

She was caught because she knew exactly how the patient was doing. The look on the detective’s face didn’t help either. There was nothing she could say and her throat was sealed up with too much saliva even if she did.

“He survived. Doing really well actually. Thanks to you.”

The anxiety she had lessened, finding the back of her chair instead of holding herself rigidly. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah. But you knew that, didn’t you? You’re very talented.”

“I just do what I can…”

“Now, he claims he was shot in the heart?”

“In the chest, yes.” ‘Actually, he was shot near his heart’, she thought, ‘if he’d been shot in the heart, he’d be dead’.

“So you confirm that? You confirm that a,” he opened and glanced at the name in the file, “Hojo Akitoki was shot, in the chest, and that you, Kagome Higurashi, took life-saving actions as a doctor?”

‘Something didn’t feel right.’ She thought. “Yes.”

“Good. That’s what I have here from Mr. Akitoki as well. And that’s what this statement says if you could just sign it.”

Pen poised, she skimmed over the typed paper and he waited patiently. If she was looking for a trap in the words, she wouldn’t find one. It read everything that happened, there was no trick in the wording or anything.

A fast scribble and he was on his feet at her side. “On your feet, Higurashi. You’re under arrest.”

“Wait, what??! Why?! I didn’t do anything…”

“Because Mr. Akitoki has no wounds. No marks, holes, bruises. It’s as if he was never shot but we know he was. So either he’s a demon or you are.”

The color drained from her face and he grinned as he watched. He had her now. Her blood ran cold, she had messed up, royally. “Look, detective…”

“Hands behind your back.”

Her greatest fears were coming to life. Ones she had for years and had been so careful. “I’m not a demon, I swear!”

“Shut the hell up, Monster.”

“Just ask Hojo! He’ll tell you I’m not a de…”

When she still didn’t shut up, he hit her as hard as he could, backhanding her. She felt the skin of his hand cut against her teeth, her mouth still open when he struck her. Now in shock, the pain exploding in her cheek and eye, she had no words. Her brain was frozen in fear from the brutality.

“Mr. Akitoki is the son of Senator Akitoki. You know the one who supported the anti-demon movement for the last ten years?! Don’t expect any help from your so-called friend. Should’ve drunk his blood when you had the chance!”

She stumbled, shoved harshly along now. Out of the room but far from free, face after face held a glare or disgust as she passed. The detective took several ‘high fives’ as he passed, the atmosphere completely different between them in the same hall.

When they turned down another hall, a rusty door at the end of it, she finally got her wits about her. “Wait, where are you taking me?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

She did and now her heart pounded painfully with horror-filled panic. “You can’t! You can’t take me there!! I’m not a demon! They’ll eat me alive if you take me there!!!”

“I bet they’ll eat a sweet thing like you regardless. But that’s where you’re going and if you know what’s good, you’ll shut UP! And GET IN THE VAN!!!”

Door opened wide, she struggled in his hold. He laughed, loving how she was still dumb enough to fight before throwing her inside. The ‘van’ had benches along the side with an armed guard at the very back. The gun he held wasn’t a joke and he had it aimed at her from the start.

There was no indication of male or female with the guard inside the van, the heavy armor and black helmet gave them anonymity. She could still see the nervous shift in the guard’s movements and so could detective Haims.

“She’s leashed, no worries.”

He assured the guard, the cuffs cutting into her wrists and clamping her gifts. She knew what they were as soon as he put them on, she could feel it and knew the stories. The means taken to suppress demons was barbaric at best.

She thought the guard didn’t believe his coworker, because he got up and grabbed the cuffs that held her hands firmly at her lower back. But then he pulled her up from the floor by them. Her scream from the agony he caused was ignored as he sat her down on a bench and latched her cuffs to something behind her.

“Have fun. And make friends!” Detective Haims taunted before slamming the door shut behind.

Now in darkness, she only had the hum of the wheels on the road to comfort her. Which they didn’t.

oOo

Her cuffs were removed once inside but something wasn’t right about this place. The thick concrete walls were suffocating as if the air was pumped in from somewhere else instead of flowing in naturally. The place was completely sealed up and not even a breeze could penetrate.

It felt as if there was something pressing on her chest. It wasn’t painful and it was slight but it was enough for her to notice. Maybe she was getting sick. She certainly would be soon. Everyone had a general idea of what the demon camps were like. They were like the prisons back before the reform. There was no leaving once in unless lifeless. With it taking so long for most demons to die and the overcrowding a few years ago, the purge of 06 had many demons leaving their imprisonment in body bags.

All of this was done to them by simple humans like her and here she was getting tossed in with them? All she had done was save some lives and kept to herself as much as possible. Her protests years were in her past, doing many back in college when she didn’t have a career to concern herself with.

The guard with her now was female but she didn’t go easy on her. The worst was the cavity searches. Kagome knew they could and should lube the long instrument they used. But the sneer on the guard’s face told her it was intentional. As was the chuckle the burly woman released when she squirmed from the uncomfortable pressure.

At least they gave her something to wear, her clothes stripped from her and probably burned. A pair of white scrubs was given to her and it was easy to pretend this was a dream. That she had fallen asleep in the break room at work even if the scrubs she wore now were over-starched compared to her own.

Two guards escorted her and as they passed the other, very much full, cells she was called after.

“Hey Baby!!”

“Look over here, let me see your face!”

She ignored the rest after that, keeping her gaze in front of her. One thing she couldn’t help but notice, besides the sheer number of creatures in the place, was the rainbow of colors. Everyone had a different colored uniform from hers. Which was why she took notice to one call and what it could possibly mean.

“LOOK! We got a WHITE!!!”

There was excitement in the air that she didn’t like. Never once had she agreed with the treatment of demons in this or other countries, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid now enclosed with so many of them. Just like humans, there were good and bad demons and these encampments didn’t differentiate. Or care if they ripped another demon to pieces, one less for them to worry about.

Everyone knew the purge was handled by other demons, ones promised freedom for their work but double-crossed. Was she now imprisoned with anyone involved in that? It was possible, she had been young but demons lived a long time. Another reason the public feared them.

The guard before her came to a halt and opened a cage while the one behind her shoved her in. It was dark, dawn still several hours away and it was ‘lights out’ apparently. Even with all the voices calling out to and about her, the sound of the bars slamming shut was deafening. Just inside her new home, with only a sheet and a single thin pillow in her hands, it was hard not to feel it all crashing down on her now. But then her bed in the corner moved and spoke.

“Hey...HEY!!!”

It flew past her in a blur of white and red. Palms smacked the iron bars again and again right behind her while her brain struggled to keep up.

“Hey, Fuckers! Don’t leave her in here!! This cell is occupied!!!”

Glancing back, she took in the man that stood behind her cursing, but all she could make out was the wild and long white hair as it curtained his face and back.

“Yeah,” called back one of the guards, “and now it’s a double room! Enjoy your snack!”

So she was this man’s snack? Fear that had never really left renewed, racing up her spine and making her nauseous. This was where and how she was going to die? It was far from what she imagined for herself but who really imagined their death?

Slowly, the man calmed and turned to her. Her breath caught in her throat when glowing, gold eyes bore into hers. They didn’t stay for long, going down her body instead and taking her in. She didn’t know what was worse, her fear of her impending death or the VERY good looking man that now looked her over harshly.

“Judas Priest, they’re putting weaklings in here now?! How the hell did you even get caught??”

Kagome had to stop herself from smacking the guy but did nothing to hide her irritation of him. “You don’t know me! Stop acting like you’re so smart!”

One of his brows twerked up towards his hairline, the dark hair contrasting greatly with his other locks. Then he faced her full, quickly backing her up to the cold, hard wall of the cell. Her hands flew out in a foolish effort to keep him back but he did stop once her palms touched his chest.

“It doesn’t take much to know an idiot when I see one. Damn White talking back to me like she’s a Red like me? Clearly, you’re a fucking tool so be smart and keep your mouth shut unless you really want someone here to eat you.” He left her to cower in her place between the bars and the wall, cornered in more ways than one. “There’s only one bed. You can sleep on the floor.”

Maybe there was a way to salvage this? This guy was her roommate for some unknown reason and length of time. It would be bad if they weren’t even nice to one another right?

“I’m..I’m Kagome, by the way.”

“Feh, and I don’t give a shit.”

The single bed squeaked as he fell to it, the conversation and any possible ones in the future squashed. She probably should try and keep to herself from now on. God, how long would she have to do that? How long was she going to be trapped in this nightmare?

Dropping to the floor, she kept to her corner. Tossing her pillow, Kagome laid down in her corner to sleep like a dog. Covering her mouth with both palms while she wept herself to sleep.

Well? That’s all for now, let me know if I should bother to keep it going!

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queenwinry · 4 years

Text

In the Line of Fire

Pairing: Royai

Rating: K+

Words: 4872

Summary: A simple arrest of a corrupt military official turns dangerous and Riza finds herself in the hospital, yet again. She swore a duty to protect her superior and her team, so why were they always so worried about her? Royai + Team Mustang

----

The first thing that registered in Riza Hawkeye's clouded brain was pain.

"Ugh," she groaned, even before things like lights and sounds became more apparent in her sluggish mind. There was a throbbing sensation all across her abdomen that hurt so much she felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach. Her eyes squeezed shut and she attempted to move in whatever odd state she had found herself in, but that only made everything worse.

Just as she started to feel around the tubing across her face, she heard an admonishing voice stop her. "Woah, woah, woah, there, Lieutenant. Try not to move so much."

The voice was feminine and not at all familiar. Riza managed to blink her eyes open and let her vision focus on her surroundings. She was lying down in a bed, she could at least tell that much. The person no doubt attached to the voice from before was standing above her, their hands trying to keep her form still on the bed. The pain was still present (and getting stronger, she realized with another groan) and her limbs felt heavy and slow, like they weren't even attached to her body.

Her brain woke up more and more as she looked around the room she was in. There were machines beeping and nothing but a simple curtain blocking her bed from the rest of the area. The person with the feminine voice came more into focus enough for the sluggish lieutenant to realize she was wearing the uniform of a nurse. She was currently trying to stop Riza from pulling at the cannula providing oxygen into her nose.

"Come on now, dear. Just try and relax. You got out of emergency surgery not that long ago. I don't think the surgeons would appreciate it if I let you reopen your wounds."

Wounds? Emergency surgery? What the hell was happening? Riza thought to herself, trying not to let the rising sensation of panic overtake her senses. She came to the realization that her fuzzy feeling was due to some medication and there was nothing the veteran lieutenant hated more than not being in control of her mind or body.

Vague memories came to her in pieces as she attempted to settle down on the bed and the nurse let out a sigh of relief. A routine warrant arrest. A surprise attacker. The sound of a gun going off. The stench of blood. There had been a lot of blood, that much she could remember for sure. The coppery smell of it was hard to forget. The fact that she was in a hospital in excruciating pain apparently coming out of emergency surgery would suggest that the blood had been hers.

But what exactly had happened? That much her drugged mind was still trying to figure out. Regardless, it was difficult for her to concentrate given the sensation coming from her abdomen.

"It hurts," she let out quietly. She knew she sounded childish, but she didn't think the nurse would hold that against her. The other woman immediately nodded her head and moved to a nearby cart where a few different syringes with clear fluid in them lay.

"I'm sure it does," the nurse said in a knowing voice as she grabbed one of the syringes and attached the end to the IV Riza hadn't even realized was there. She pressed the plunger and a strange tingling sensation erupted in the lieutenant's arm. "There you go, sweetie. Hopefully that will help make you feel muuuch better."

Great, more drugs. At least this one should help with the pain. Riza was finding it very difficult to think about anything else.

"You'll be moved to your room upstairs in a little while, once we're sure everything's stable," the nurse started to say as she began her other tasks. "If you're still awake by then, you can reunite with your team. They've all practically been busting down the door trying to get updates on your condition. Thankfully the surgery went well."

Riza tried to focus more of her energy on remembering what had happened, made easier by the pain medicine's already remarkable effects. She recalled getting assigned to handle the warrant arrest for a corrupt brigadier-general who had been guzzling the military's funds. She and the rest of the Colonel's team had all gone together and things were going smoothly until…

As all the memories flooded back in quick succession, Riza's eyes popped open in panic and she sat up straight in the bed, the worst possible decision she could have made.

She nearly screamed in pain as she fell back down, clutching at her stitched together abdomen. The nurse let out a gasp and ran back to her bedside as she settled. "Jesus Christ, Lieutenant. Now why the hell would you go and do that!? They'll fire me if they see you moving around so much."

Riza gritted her teeth together and tried to control her breathing as the wave of severe pain began to abate slightly. The nurse shook her head and tsked at her, but the lieutenant's mind had gone to a completely different place.

"T-The...the C-Colonel. Is he...is he okay?"

The nurse tilted her head in confusion at the question. She answered her as she reached under the blankets covering Riza and lifted her hospital gown to make sure the sudden movements hadn't reopened the surgical site. "Colonel Mustang? Of course he's okay. He was with the team that brought you in. You're the one in the hospital, why the hell would you be worrying about him?"

Riza supposed she appreciated the candidness with which the nurse spoke to her, considering that attitude was usually rare with the staff of the military hospital, but the other woman couldn't have possibly understood the fear and the panic that had overtaken her and led her to where she was right now.

The arrest had been fine until one of the brigadier-general's men showed up announced with a gun. He'd been a good shot and a stealth expert apparently because not even Riza had seen him coming. Everything had happened so quickly. Just as the colonel was dragging the general outside his home in handcuffs, the man had popped up out of nowhere and started shooting.

His first target was an expected one, but Riza hadn't had any time to try and pull her own gun out to stop him. With the bullet mere seconds away from plunging straight through Colonel Mustang's chest, Riza did exactly what she had been trained to do.

She jumped in front of him and took the bullet herself.

She could hardly recall the inevitable chaos that ensued after she'd been hit. As pain had immediately engulfed her, she'd thankfully still been able to reach around to pull one of her guns out and immobilize the attacker. She figured either Havoc or Breda had swooped in after that to finish him off, but by that point it was too late for her.

The world had started to fade away just as she felt strong arms encircle her form and bring her to lay on the ground. Many different faces had passed across her vision as she struggled to stay conscious while blood poured from the wound, but one of them...oh she'd never forget that one. She'd never forget his look of pure and unadulterated fear.

Still, looking back she had absolutely no regrets. Even given the excruciating pain she was in, she'd do it again in a heartbeat. If she hadn't taken that bullet...she didn't even want to think about what might have happened.

Riza couldn't help the wince as the nurse unwound the bandage around her midsection and she got a good look at the long slice through her abdomen, sewn and stapled shut. No doubt that's where the bullet had landed and she'd just spent the last however many hours in surgery as the doctors searched for shrapnel throughout her gut. The recovery for this one wasn't going to be easy, but at least she was still alive.

The nurse worked quietly to clean around the wound before she wrapped it back up again. A sleepy feeling overtook the lieutenant as the pain medicine started to take even more effect. She had nearly drifted off when footsteps approached from the other side of the curtain and it was tentatively pulled aside to reveal a young girl, probably no older than sixteen, with scared and nervous eyes.

"U-um...Ms. Alicia?"

The nurse instantly stilled, an annoyed look flashing across her face as she started to put up some of her supplies. "What is it this time Madeline?"

The girl caved further into herself at the tone of the nurse's voice, but continued on. "Those men outside are still being very...persistent. They're wondering if maybe just one of them can come back and see her."

The nurse, Alicia, snapped the cover close on a nearby box of supplies and straightened up, her face contorting in anger. "I already told you and them. They don't get to come into my unit and start making demands. That sweet-talking colonel can pull rank all he wants, but he and the rest of his team will wait to visit the lieutenant after she's settled in her room upstairs. Got it?"

The poor girl nearly looked close to tears. "I know, that's what I've been telling them, b-but…"

Alicia sighed and rubbed a spot on her forehead, no doubt trying to abate a headache. She took pity on the poor girl and attempted to soften the tone of her voice. "I'm sorry, Madeline. I'll go out there and yell at them myself in a minute. Colonel Mustang thinks he can get whatever he wants, but he won't pull one over on me."

"O-okay...sure," Madeline answered, as she nodded her head and made to leave.

Riza immediately stopped her. "Wait." She almost made an attempt to sit up in the bed again, but her nurse looked out for blood and she didn't want to try her patience any further. "You talked to the Colonel, right? You're sure he's alright? He's not harmed in any way?"

Alicia rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shooed the younger girl away. "Not this again. Lieutenant, I've already told you, the colonel is completely unscathed, otherwise he wouldn't be out there banging down the door trying to get to you. Physically, he's perfectly alright. Emotionally might be another story."

The lieutenant let out a breath of relief at that knowledge and relaxed back on the bed. Good. That was good. She had toed the line of death's doorstep, but she'd do far more if it meant the colonel could continue on and work toward his goals. It took a large weight off her shoulders to know that he had come out of such a dangerous situation unharmed.

She heard Alicia let out a scoff and Riza's eyes turned questioningly toward her. "That must be nice," she spoke, her voice much softer than it had been before.

Seeing the confused look on the lieutenant's face, the nurse continued on. "It must be nice to have a whole group of strong men willing to go to war for you at the drop of the hat."

Riza stayed silent as the nurse got back to her previous tasks. "Rest assured, Lieutenant Hawkeye, I'm a force to be reckoned with in this hospital. If they're all willing to face me, then that must mean they care about you quite a bit."

Riza couldn't help but let out a small sigh. "They shouldn't worry so much. Protecting them all is part of my job."

Alicia tilted her head to concede that point. "Mm, that might be true, but I don't think they'd quite see it that way. I was there when you first got here and were rolled straight to the OR. They all looked like they'd seen a ghost."

The lieutenant pursed her lips shut and said nothing.

As the nurse started to roll up a spare bandage, a thoughtful look crossed her face. "Just wait until you see them again. Especially that commanding officer of yours. The medics that brought you in said you'd taken the bullet for him. I'm sure that's why he's so antsy to see you. He's been out there looking like the most guilty man in the world ever since you arrived."

Another sigh and a shake of her head. "That man's a fool. I'm his bodyguard. That's what I'm supposed to do."

"As I said, I highly doubt he sees it that way."

An uncertain feeling dwelled up within the stoic lieutenant. If even her nurse could tell plain as day what emotions the colonel was experiencing, that put the both of them in a tricky position. She hadn't wound up this seriously injured before, but they'd both been in and out of the hospital throughout their tenure in the military. The worry they felt about each other was hard to keep at bay and people instantly picked up on it. Perhaps if it had been Havoc or Breda who had jumped in front of the colonel, he'd be just as concerned, but she knew it was different with her.

It was always different with her.

Almost able to see the internal battle she was having, the nurse sighed and set down the bandage. She patted Riza on the shoulder and let a rare smile cross her face. "Get some rest now, Lieutenant. You've been through quite a lot in the last few hours and I know you're going to need all the strength you can get once your team is allowed to see you. That morphine should be kicking in real nice right about now."

Alicia was right, as the lieutenant's eyelids began to feel like they weighed tons. She didn't offer any argument as she let the sheer exhaustion combined with the pain medicine let her drift back off to sleep.

---

For the second time in the last day or so, the lieutenant felt like she was swimming through a fog. The pain in her abdomen had gone down to a dull ache and she was able to rest somewhat comfortably in the haze. She started to register the sound of distant voices swimming around in her mind as her limbs started to feel less heavy.

The voices chattered on for a while and she listened contentedly until her mind woke up a bit more and they started to get more clear.

Now she could tell that the voices were distinctly familiar.

"-updated us from the scene. Brigadier-General Graham has been taken to the military prison. His adjutant who shot at us was pronounced dead at the scene. The rest of the area has been secured."

"Bastard didn't even stay alive long enough for us to wail on him. I hope he rots in hell."

"Come on now, Lieutenant Havoc. That seems a bit cruel."

"Cruel!? You know what else is cruel? The lieutenant sitting on her deathbed! I don't give a damn about no stupid general's right-hand man. Not when Hawkeye almost died."

"We should keep our voices down. The nurse said that the lieutenant needs her rest."

The tension in all their voices was quite apparent, even if she hadn't yet gotten a look at all their faces. Alicia was right when she'd said the team had been wracked with worry. In a way it was endearing, considering it was now more obvious than ever how much she meant to all of them, but it still didn't erase the fact that she'd do the same again for all of them.

A quick thought appeared suddenly that she'd heard every member of her team speak...except for one.

"Fuery's right," she finally said, her voice hoarse from sleep. "You're all rather loud."

She cracked her eyes open just as her teammates crowded around her bed. There they all were. Fuery, Havoc, Breda, and Falman all stood with frightfully concerned expressions looking over her form lying on the hospital bed. She managed to get a quick look at the rest of the room, which was different than where she had previously awoken. They must have gotten her all settled in her hospital room. She wondered if Alicia was still going to be her nurse. In the brief interaction they'd had, Riza would admit that she had grown to like the other woman.

"Lieutenant!" Fuery gasped, before clamping his mouth shut in an attempt to be quieter. The other men had no such inclinations.

"How are you feeling Hawkeye?" Havoc questioned.

"Are you still in any pain? I'm told you should be on some strong medications," Falman added in his usual knowledgeable way.

"We've been worried sick about you. That scary nurse from downstairs wouldn't let us anywhere near you," Breda interjected.

She looked at all their faces, unsure of who to answer first and trying to keep from grimacing as the pain increased the more awake she felt. She opened her mouth to say something before all four men moved out of the way as a fifth presence approached the end of the bed, making himself known for the first time since she'd awoken.

"Give her some space," his deep voice ordered, a touch of anger underlying his words.

The rest of the team immediately shut up and Riza's eyes finally focused on his form. Colonel Mustang stood resolutely at the end of her bed, an expression on his face that would be completely unreadable to most but that the lieutenant instantly understood. His gloved hand clutched the railing on the bed tightly, almost to the point of breaking, and the muscles in his face clenched.

"She just woke up from a major surgery. Let her settle down and gather her surroundings."

A chorus of quiet 'yes, sir's answered the colonel's tight words before a tense silence enveloped the group.

"I'll be alright," Riza eventually said in a quiet voice. "To be fair, I woke up earlier. Nurse Alicia already pumped me full of drugs which seem to have done their job decently enough. It's good to see all of you."

She just managed to give them a small smile which seemed to ease the tension from most of them.

"Is that the same nurse that yelled at all of us?" Havoc quietly asked, and if she had the energy, Riza would have laughed at the frightened expression that passed throughout the men. Alicia must not have been kidding about not messing with her part of the hospital. It was amusing, to say the least.

"Seriously, Hawkeye. Are you feeling okay? You scared the living daylights out of all of us," Breda said, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

"The doctors told us you were lucky. We managed to stop a lot of the bleeding at the scene and the bullet did minimal damage internally. From what I've been reading about gunshot wounds in trauma situations, it could've been a lot worse," Falman commented, his face shadowing over.

"It's good to see you awake," Havoc added, his voice thick with emotion as he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezed.

"I've got Hayate at home with me now. I'll make sure to walk him a lot and only give him treats when he's good," Fuery said with a reassuring smile.

Despite the situation, Riza couldn't help the warm feeling that arose within her at her teammate's words. She reached up to Havoc's hand on her shoulder and grasped at it, a thankful expression passing across her face. "Your concern is appreciated. I'm sure you're right in saying I'm lucky. I know it won't be an easy road to recovery, but truthfully I've dealt with worse."

The rest of the team couldn't possibly understand the hidden meaning within that statement...but Mustang did. His eyes briefly narrowed before he turned to look out the window, maintaining his blank expression.

The group chatted for a few more minutes, Riza's reassurances putting the men far more at ease than when they had arrived at the military hospital. As the sun set from outside the window, the room was cast in a darker light. Finally, the colonel cleared his throat and stepped back up to the bed with authority.

"It's been a long day and it's getting late. Visiting hours will soon be over and we need to write a full report on what happened tomorrow morning."

Even with the mention of tedious paperwork, the group nodded their acceptance and said their goodbyes to their lieutenant, promising to be back to visit tomorrow. Riza knew her injury was just the result of her doing her job, but it was nonetheless still sweet of them. She really did appreciate their concern, even if it was slightly unfounded.

Her teammates filed out of the room speaking their last goodbyes, leaving the space in a deathly silence. Colonel Mustang had stayed behind, which didn't surprise Riza in the slightest, but she still didn't know if she was ready for the inevitable conversation.

He didn't say anything for awhile and the lieutenant didn't try to initiate anything either. Her eyes followed him as he placed his hands in the pockets of his black overcoat he hadn't taken off for some reason and he walked up to the machine recording her vitals. He watched as her heart rhythm strip was meticulously drawn out with each of her passing heartbeats. She could only imagine the thoughts swimming through his mind.

Eventually, Riza got tired of the silent treatment and asked, "Are you alright, sir?"

His eyes instantly flashed toward her and if the atmosphere hadn't been so serious, she might have laughed at his look of pure confusion. "Am...am I alright?" he repeated in disbelief.

The lieutenant didn't falter. "Yes. I wasn't with it enough to have seen if there were any other attackers. The nurses told me you were fine, but I wanted to make sure that you were unharmed."

The colonel let out a huff at her and placed his hands on his hips, seemingly searching for words to respond to that with. He looked absolutely baffled that she would be asking him such a thing right now.

"Am I unharmed? Lieutenant, you just took a bullet to the stomach, why the hell are you always worrying about me?" The heat that nearly spilled off his words caused Riza to narrow her eyes in annoyance. Could he be that clueless?

"You ask me that like it's not my job to protect you. That man was shooting at you, not me."

"And yet, here you are again taking the brunt of the blow for my sake."

"That's what I'm supposed to do!" she exclaimed as she raised her voice. She couldn't figure out why him, her team, and pretty much everyone else considered it such a huge tragedy that she'd been shot. She signed up for this. She was a soldier. It was a duty she took on willingly by her own volition, but everyone wanted to turn her into some kind of martyr.

"No," Roy countered, his voice rising to match hers. "No, that is not what you're supposed to do. I didn't bring you, and everyone else, onto my team to lay down their lives for meaningless reasons. You fight to live and help with my goals, not die just to keep me unscathed."

"Meaningless!?" Riza asked incredulously, ignoring the pain flaring up at the energy she was having to use for this argument. "Someone was going to shoot you. I'm your bodyguard, Colonel, what better reason could I possibly have?"

"That's just it though!" Roy nearly shouted. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to control the pace of his breathing. He was getting far too worked up about this. "You're not just my bodyguard. You're not just my adjutant."

You mean so much more than that to me, were the unspoken words at the end of his statement. She was glad he hadn't actually said it out loud. She probably would've searched for a gun and shot him if he had. She did not need him bringing such ideas into this right now. She needed to remain practical. She couldn't think about how badly her almost dying was affecting her superior. That in and of itself brought on a whole host of complicated questions she did not have the energy to answer.

"Colonel," she began, her voice rising in volume as she went along. "This is not about who gets to be the one lying in the hospital bed. I saw the attacker move, I knew where he was aiming. If I hadn't done anything you'd be dead right now!" With her final shout, she made a move to sit up fully and instantly felt like she had been shot all over again.

She let out a strangled cry of pain and fell back against the bed, her breathing heavy. Instantly, the colonel's entire angry countenance fell, replaced by one of concern and worry. Much like Havoc, he placed a hand on her arm and began rubbing up and down to provide comfort as she rode out of the wave of intense pain.

Her eyes were still shut and her breathing was haggard, but she gathered enough strength to continue on. "I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I let that happen. You stupid man, there would be no point for me if I just let you die. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. You know I would."

Here, her eyes opened, and she met the colonel's dark gaze fiercely. He would not change her mind on this. She would not waver. She would help him in any way to get where he needed to be. Even into hell, had been the vow. She was deadly serious about that.

The colonel said nothing as his anger dissipated and his face returned to the blank expression from before. He heaved a loud sigh before he stood to full height and walked out of the room. He returned mere moments later with a nurse equipped with all the proper pain medications. She got another dose of one of them, the nurse looked her over to make sure things were still okay, and then left the room as quickly as she had come, sensing the charged atmosphere.

Riza watched with hooded eyes as Mustang sat himself in the chair by her bed and slumped his shoulders. He'd be kicked out for the night shortly so Riza was sure he was trying to figure out the words he wanted to leave her with.

Eventually, he spoke in a quiet tone, "Lieutenant...please stop acting like your life is meaningless. I know you're trying to protect me and I want you to but...you can't be so reckless. Please, for my sake, don't be so reckless."

As he spoke, Riza could see, truly see, the emotion that had been plaguing him. She could see every bit of fear, worry, terror, and anxiety he'd experienced since watching her take a bullet for him. He was taking the responsibility of everything onto his shoulders, as he always did, and it was weighing him down heavily.

They were close enough that Riza could reach out for his gloved hand without much effort, and she squeezed it reassuringly. His haunted eyes instantly met hers.

"You're one to talk about being reckless," she eventually said, a ghost of a smile on her face revealing her slight tease. To his credit, Roy managed to let out a breath he'd been holding in. "I'll be alright. I'm still alive. That's all that should matter now."

The colonel's face became more determined. "You're damn right that's all that matters. And it better stay that way. You can't keep watching my back if you're not around."

Riza simply nodded her head, their argument resolved and their worries momentarily lifted.

Surprising her thoroughly, Roy let a lopsided and tired grin cross his face before he leaned over to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. The lieutenant could feel her cheeks heating, and she'd berate him for the gesture later, but the colonel had already stood to his feet and began to make his way out of the room. He flashed her one last smile, promised he'd be back to check on her early the next day, and then left her alone in the dark.

She laid back on the pillows, sleep wanting to overtake senses yet again. She pictured Roy's face as she drifted off. Regardless of what he thought, she had, and would always have, a duty to protect him. She had a duty to protect her entire team. With all her skills, she would not watch one of them die if there was something she could do about it.

Still, the colonel's unspoken order resonated loudly in her mind. She was to keep living and fight to keep living, as long as she was with him on his climb to the top.

This time, it was an order she didn't mind following.

#fma #royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #team mustang #my fanfiction #oneshots #lmaoooooo here we go again #me and my trope wheel

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lighterandpaper · 4 years

Text

Learner’s Permit

Photo by @andriklangfield

Judah falls from the third floor. There is another fire escape on the second floor window, which the falling one above deposits Judah on, hard. He collapses on the grating with the hum of struck metal. The fire escape above knocks into the one below as it falls, jolting it one, twice, and then giving way. Judah drops again from the swinging fire escape into the bushes. The pivot action of the last holding anchor swings the mangled rusted metal, so that when it snaps and falls, it lands just a few feet away from Judah. The bushes slow him little, he lands on his back, gun digging into his spine, with a hollow thump and possibly a crack.

Once, he had turned just as a basketball was making its way to him, out of the hands of the most aggressive boy, whose face was covered in painful acne. The basketball thumped him in the chest, and he believed for the next few minutes that he was dying and no one cared. “Got the wind knocked out of you,” said an older boy, later. Spencer looks out for Judah, and scores the most points because he’s the biggest. “First time, you think you’re dying.”

This memory is very little help, as Judah is again convinced he is dying. “Can’t breathe,” he gasps, not nearly loud enough for anyone to hear. The bushes conceal him.

Briar leaps to her feet and yanks the window open with a few frantic tugs. She sticks her head out, not seeing Judah anywhere. “Judah!” she hears herself saying.

A thick pair of hands land on her shoulders and pull her away from the window, so hard that she falls on the hardwood floor and slides. She looks up to see the seat of Mr. Jackson’s stretch-waist khakis as he sticks his head out the window. He looks for a while, like a sniffing dog, before he ducks back in and turns to Briar. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know!” she says, again honestly.

He lurches toward his closet, opens the door, and digs around in a corner until his hand appears again, this time with a Musket in it.

“Mr. Jackson!” Briar says.

Buddy Red sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He whips the car into drive and pulls around toward the teacher’s parking lot, the side of the school with the fire escapes.

“The fire escapes fell!” David says, pointing across Buddy Red’s eye line.

“Get down!” Buddy Red says, shoving David by the head lower in the seat. Mr. Jackson’s form appears in the third floor window.

Mr. Jackson sees the shabby car, and inside it is a man he’s known for over a century now. He laughs to himself, raises the gun to his eye, takes careful aim, and fires. The crack echos over the parking lot.

In a tearing moment, the windshield shatters, and Buddy Red’s right shoulder erupts suddenly like a volcano of blood. “Damn!” Buddy Red says, almost calmly, given the situation. David screams so loudly that the sound seems to contain mass.

Mr. Jackson calmly replaces his gun in the closet, closes the door. “Now, Ms. Beckman, if you tell anyone what you have seen here, I will not only kill Judah, but I will kill your family as well. St. Marysville ain’t my domain, but that will eventually change. Do you understand me?”

Briar nods.

“We are going to go downstairs, pull the boy out of the bushes where I’m sure he is lying with a broken leg or some such, and you don’t tell no one nothing I didn’t say first, you understand me, now?”

They walk down the stairs again, Briar again following, step by step, behind Mr. Jackson’s lumbering decent.

Judah regains the ability to take a breath just when a shot cracks over his head. A musket sticks out of the window for a moment, a billow of black smoke lingering after it. He turns his eyes to the sound of broken glass, and he sees Buddy Red’s car. “No...” he says. He starts to get up, when Buddy Red gets out of the car. “Hide, Judah!” Buddy Red calls out in no particular direction.

Buddy Red opens the back door of his car and lays down. “You drive, kid,” he grunts to David.

“Huh now?” David says. “I just started on my learner’s--”

“Drive, kid!” Buddy Red shouts.

David scurries over the middle and sits in the driver’s seat, “I picked the wrong day to quit smoking...” he mutters to himself, never having smoked. He puts the car in drive and in lurches. “Where is Judah?”

“He is hiding, just go!”

The car lurches and halts its way out of the parking lot. At the exit, David steps all the way on the gas in a 15 MPH speed limit. The road is narrow, solid black, and banked by deep ditches. They reach about 55 MPH when he flings the car to the right, screaming. They lose control, spin, both screaming now. After an endless moment, the side of the car slams into a tree. David slaps the car into park, as if that was all intentional.

“Ok, this should be far enough away for you. I’m going find Judah.” He opens the door and steps out. They are a block away, hidden behind a curtain of trees and an abandoned house.

“No, kid!” Buddy Red says. “No one can know you’re alive.”

“I’ll stay low!” David says. Buddy Red groans, apparently too wounded to argue more.

David pauses. “Are you going to, uh... die?”

“No,” he says. “If I don’t make it, I’ll just be less solid...”

David doesn’t consider this an answer, but turns to find his little brother anyway. He runs through the trees, keeping low.

Mr. Jackson arrives at the porch just in time to see the car disappear beyond the trees, followed by a crash. A crowd is already gathering, looking for the source of the gunshot. Mr. Jackson glances at Briar one last time, to make sure she looks sufficiently afraid. He walks down the last few steps to the bushes below his window. He gazes in, and there is no boy.

“What was that?” says an older student.

“Came down to find out, myself,” says Mr. Jackson. “Did anyone see the car that just left here?”

“I saw an old, red car tear out of the parking lot from over there,” says a girl wearing a skort version of their uniform.

While Mr. Jackson is looking at where the car disappeared, Briar sees the head of curly black hair disappear around a corner. She a sigh of relief comes over her, and Mr. Jackson twists to see why. She hurries her gaze toward the trees where the car is.

“Come with me,” Mr. Jackson says. “We’re going to find that car.”

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lokispettigerr · 5 years

Text

In The Flesh Pt. 3 “Berserker”-Loki x OFC

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Emile (aka. #140278) finally meets Loki within S.H.I.E.L.D. and together they try to escape. Loki finally begins to understand why Emile was locked away in S.H.I.E.L.D.

Timeline: The Avengers

Words: 2785

Warnings: Violence and Nudity

A/N: Sorry it took a while for Pt. 3 to come out, I was so busy trying to juggle several fic requests and ideas. I hope you enjoy, and I will get Pt. 4 out much sooner!

General Taglist: @njavezan @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @avenging-blackwidow @lovelyxserpent-br @kamaroon @britkane-shsl-librarian @not-made-of-glass @archy3001 @witch-loki @purplekitten30 @mad-doctor-mew@bakerstreethound @jmb959 @areschosen @little-moonbeam-666

@hiddlestoner3059 @bingewatchingmylifegoby @fkngparadise @lucywindigo@screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @chocolatealmondmilkk@mellowgirl01 @fyeahlitaajpunk @drakesfiance @wicked-starlight-collector@kenzieam @nothungry4humanflesh @huiflavor @sherlocksuperfan666@confessionsofastrugglingteen @joseyslo @ms-munchkin @saintwiz@thathedonistgirl @thegrandmasterschampion @onelazy-cat

@nothungry4humanflesh @doralupin01

@hp-hogwartsexpress @lokislilslut @dragon--dragon @scorpionchild81

Taglist: @krystallynx

An alarm blared overhead and I covered my ears with my hands trying to shut out the triggering, obnoxious noise.

Well, this was something new, maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. was running some type of test on their facilities? One of those benign siren test that annoyed everyone and was a general nuisance because of the loud interruption to the day.

From my favorite corner in my cage I looked out. Two guards dressed in uniforms barreled past my cell, their guns in their hands, their booted feet making solid thuds on the floor as they ran past.

My curiosity peaked and I got up, my chains rattling as I walked towards the wall of my cage.

Clink, clack, clink.

My bruises and cuts were healing from the abuse I received from Richard; stretching still hurt. I rolled my shoulders, my ribs stretching, and winced from the sharp, shooting pain.

I placed my palm on the cool glass, leaving a mark, and peered out to what lay beyond my confinement.

Another guard ran past in a streak of black.

“Hey! Hey! Tell me what’s going on!” I shouted out, my hand rapping on the glass walls of my cage.

He ignored me, and I pulled again on my restraints, testing them as they bit into my skin.

If something really was wrong, if the place was on fire or they were under attack, I wouldn’t get out. I would die here trapped in this cage, naked, scared, bruised and battered. I would never smell fresh air again, never feel the wind playing with my hair or kissing my skin, never step out in a forest to hear what life sounded like as it hummed all around me. This cage would be my crypt.

While I didn’t know what was happening, I knew one thing for certain; I needed to get out of here. Now!

“Hey! Hey! Someone let me outta here!” I banged my hands on the glass, yanking and straining against my chains as they groaned and creaked in protest, rubbing my skin raw and bloody.

A sudden gunfire erupted and a loud thud could be heard down the hallway.

This couldn’t be good. I continued calling out, trying to get someone to help me, but it was clear no one was coming for me.

Wait… There, yes! A presence that seemed so familiar, so distinct. It was something I had felt before in the silent solitude of this cell; something with devastatingly powerful strength tether around my own consciousness with a familiarity that echoed my own. The last time I felt it was....When Richard was hitting me and I lost consciousness. Loki?

Some small, scared part of me didn’t want him to find me and I slowly retreated to the back corner of the cage. I knelt down, clinging my legs to my chest, letting my hair fall down around my shoulders to shroud me, covering my arms, and trailing in loose spirals down my back.

If you asked me then I wouldn’t have been able to explain why suddenly, upon feeling his presence, I decided to hide. I wouldn’t have known. Instinct I guess, but something about him felt too familiar to me-- deadly and dangerous, catastrophic even. I felt that he was my reflection, a mirror of a beast struggling to be free; something that simmered bubbling beneath the serene, beautiful and captivating exterior.

Loki could easily lure you, tempt you and coerce you with his charm, his dashingly good looks, and his silver-tongue. And as sure as I knew this, I also knew he couldn’t be trusted. He was a predator. The dream I had recently confirmed this? Didn’t it?

I stopped my introspection and looked down the hallway. There he was! My heart leapt frantically in my chest as if it wanted to join him - a thrall leaping against its prison of flesh and bone to join its master and maker.

He didn’t look so sinister after all. His shoulders were rolled forward and he was staggering slightly as if he had been wounded.

I lifted my head, so I could get a better view. His chest piece was tattered and torn, little holes covering his leathers as if shrapnel had torn it apart. Through the holes I could clearly see his smooth, pale skin underneath. If there had been any wounds at all, it had healed quickly. He looked tired and so weary, and underneath that something else...Worried, like something was plaguing his thoughts, leaving him without sleep--some inescapable thought. What could someone like that ever possibly have to fear?

Loki spotted me and his shoulders immediately straightened. The air around him shimmered green and gold with his Seidr, making him look impeccable again, his clothes in perfect order.

I looked away, my eyes darting to my chains, my hands twisting imperceptibly to try to get out of my thick, metal restraints.

“Look at you, #140278…” Loki crooned. His voice was so enticing, it hypnotized me. “What a lovely name, your parents were so... innovative.

“You’re wondering why I am here, aren’t you?” His steps slowed the closer her got, his arms went behind his back, seemingly a natural pose for him. One that always irked me - it was a pose that reeked of tricks and distrust.

“I’m here for you, of course, #140278,” His eyes glimmered maddeningly and he smirked at me as if he had his own private little joke.

“No, you’re here because Fury’s men brought you here.” I stood to my feet, my limbs uncurling as I reached my full height, my long locks covering my breast and trailing down towards my hips in soft waves.

“Look at you,” his eyes squinted as he focused on me. He looked at me without shame or fear, without a modicum of modesty. “What an exquisite piece for his collection, and quite peculiar. Even your voice, like a siren could drive most men mad with longing and lust for you. Why are you here, #140278?” He turned towards a large stand with many buttons on it, pressing them, his finger gliding over them. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

“Don’t want to let me in on any secrets, too soon I see?” he chuckled. “Well, soon enough then.”

The glass door to my cage slid open, luckily I was able to control my surprise otherwise my jaw would have dropped to the floor.

“Well, are you just going to stand there gaping at me waiting for Fury or his little worker ants to come around for you?”

I scowled and gestured to my chains, tugging on them.

“Ah, yes, yes… Should be….” He turned around, his hands darting in his many pockets, he patted himself down, reaching into one on his chest, pulling out a shiny silver key.

“Ta-da!”

He strode towards me, “Allow me, milady,” he bowed tauntingly and began to unlock my restraints as they fell clattering loudly to the floor.

My hands went to my breasts, hoping to cover them.

Loki watched me, his gaze traveling up and down my body, his mouth hanging loosely.

I cleared my throat.

His eyes returned quickly to my face. “Ah, yes, and I suppose you will want something to wear then?”

“Uhm, yeah, that would be preferred, don’t wanna prance around like this.” I waved my hand, indicating my nakedness.

“Very well, come along, your belongings should be over here against the wall.” He led the way, his long coat trailing and fanning out behind him.

I grabbed at my clothes, my hands turning to claws and threw them on. They all felt so foreign to me. I felt every glide of the fabric, making my skin itch. How long had I been here?

Loki looked at me, his eyes resting between my hips. He looked disappointed and unsatisfied.

“Come along now, the jet is waiting at the twelfth bay.” He walked away, not looking to see if I was following. I had to trot to keep up with his large stride.

“Wait, what’s happening? Why should I follow you?” I asked, still running after him, panting slightly.

“You know why,” he retorted in a grumble, not looking back.

“Where are we going?” I caught up to him.

“Out.”

I had grown tired of his clipped manner, his entitled attitude, his inappropriate humor. I pushed him against the wall and he let me.

He hit the wall with a huff, exhaustion coloring his features. He looked so tired, I caught a glimpse of him underneath all of it-- the carefree charade gave way to the viscous, yet worried man before me.

“Tell me.” I gritted my teeth, my eyes boring into him fiercely.

He quickly recovered, “What?” he grunted, pushing me off him and forcing me backwards against the opposite wall, his hand came up and his slender fingers wrapped themselves lightly around my throat.

He laughed mockingly. “Look at you, pet, you want to play?” he spat through his deranged laughter, his sides heaving as he tried to control himself, but his eyes gave him away and showed the war raging in his mind.

His voice shook. “You’re afraid.” He let go of my throat. “I can see it in your eyes, and the set of those beautiful, blood red lips of yours,” he paused. “Good, you should be.”

My eyes shifted away from his face, down the tunnel towards the twelfth bay, the small jet sitting there ready for take off.

“We are leaving. You don’t belong here and I feel the need to bring you with me,” he declared, exasperatedly. “Anymore questions and you stay here. I didn’t come for a child.” He resumed walking but suddenly stopped, rocking back on his heels as he looked over his shoulder. “Anymore questions, kitten?”

I shook my head, realizing he probably couldn’t see my action well through his periphery. “N-no” I rasped.

“Come on then.” He strode forward, and we reached the jet together.

As the jet prepared to leave the bay out of the of the shadows from the tunnel that Loki and I had just come from, Fury appeared, his long trench coat one with the darkness. All that could be seen of him was his rage-stricken face and his hand holding a gleaming gun. Something that looked like a toy from here-- nothing that I was afraid of.

Yet, even as he stepped from the shadows I retreated back into the darkest corner of the jet.

Loki showed no fear and strode forward, smiling menacingly with pride and triumph at Fury’s apparent defeat.

“Loki!” Fury yelled, his neck veins bulging. “You have no damn clue what you’re dealing with!” His gun swung as he spoke and if the bullet would have been released it would have struck me dead center in the chest. I lifted my hand up to cover where it would hit, palm up.

“You are dealing with someone extremely dangerous! You are releasing something uncontrollable onto the people of New York-- the people of the earth!”

Loki’s brow furrowed. He was taken aback and he clearly didn’t know what Fury was referring to.

He recovered quickly. “Farewell Fury,” he smirked, and the door of the jet closed as it took off into the air. Pings from Fury’s gun could be heard hitting the side of the jet and there was a loud groan from the plane. It seemed Fury had gotten lucky enough to strike something important. The jet shook, and Loki moved towards the wall of the jet, standing flush against me-- his arm acting as a restraint across my chest, as if I was some fragile cargo and not some ticking time bomb with a warning sign.

One of the pilots informed Loki that the plane was falling from the sky-- something obvious, and Loki rolled his eyes, looking at me with disbelief, his face speaking volumes, Can you believe this idiot?

The impact from the small jet striking the ground jostled us, but because we had taken off from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s low-hanging aircraft the impact wasn’t deadly.

Loki and I exited immediately to find that agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. close on foot. Fury must have alerted them of our descent.

Loki seemed to enjoy the challenge and pursuit and strode confidently forward, while I remained on the hill the jet had landed on.

More agents continued to appear. From the looks of it, it was approximately thirty against the small handful of Loki’s cohorts on the jet and the two of us-- not that the logistics mattered much.

I stood just outside the doors of the jet, watching curiously to see what would take place.

Without hesitation Loki began to take down agent after agent. The thirty went down to twenty-five, then to twenty, and Loki continued hurling daggers aggressively through the air, showing no sign of fatigue.

The beauty and grace with which he moved made him look like a dancer, the pain and rage fueling it turning him into a deadly weapon.

He cut through the air-- a blade himself.

Sensing my thoughts on him he turned, glancing at me, but when he did this his concentration was broken and the agents were able to swarm around him giving them a break from the storm that was his shining daggers.

Interestingly, he didn’t fight them and just watched me as if they were nothing to him-- nothing more than a patter of rain or leaves falling onto him. His eyes burned into me and as if he commanded me I walked forward, my long limbs exuding power and grace, the wind blowing my hair as it painted the wind.

My pace increased until I was cutting through the air myself, my feet parting the grass. I stood studying Loki from my place on the hill, watching him as he cut the agents down, rendering them lifeless.

I jumped towards what would be anyone’s death off the hill towards the group of remaining agents. My body was grabbed by the wind and a growl arose from my throat, battling through my teeth to get out.

As my feet left solid ground, I was consumed in black and orange smoke that looked like ash and toxic poison, colored with angered and agitated sparks. It swirled around me until no one could see me, but I could see everything.

The animalistic growl in my throat finally won its battle with my teeth and escaped in a screech so intense and shrill that it pumped blood throughout my ears and my eyes until all that was left to be seen was a world in red; a world covered in blood.

As my feet touched the ground again the smoke poured from me, moving down and resting over my hips and legs. My hands shot out and the corruptive smoke spread from my fingertips and between the spaces of my finger falling to the ground, heavily like a waterfall of death.

As the corruption spread like the disease it was, the agents around Loki fell, blood pouring profusely from their ears, their eyes, every orifice on their bodies. Loki remained untouched in his own way. His mouth was hanging open with wonder, his eyes wide with astonishment and surprise.

I was shaking, consumed with rage and chaos. The smoke continued to roll from me in waves, any soldiers or agents left standing could no longer withstand my brilliance. Another shrill screech peeled from my tongue, my head threw back up towards the sky as I opened up my throat, the air parting from the sound waves that flew out in a high, musical howl. My hair danced, mystically around my head, a crown of daggers or a halo of poison ivy.

When I looked back towards the agents, a smile of menace on my blood red lips as they all lay dead, not one soul left alive. I hadn’t spared a single life save Loki’s.

Loki looked at me, cackling. “Extraordinary,” he breathed. His head tilted, a deranged look on his face as he approached me.

I could see questions floating in his eyes and words wanting to escape his lips, but he held them back. When he reached me his hand came out to grab my chin so he could stare into my eyes for an inspection, but upon the touch from his fingertips my world when dark. The red in my eyes vanished and I fell into a black pit. It felt as if I was floating in space, screaming with no one to hear me and no one to save me.

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read something that is very dear to me. Please, if you are able take the time to leave me some feedback. I love it!

***If you would like to be on the general taglist or the taglist for a future fic please drop an ask in my ask box– or even if you just want to chat, have any questions, or comments. I love all of this too!

Don’t be strangers, I appreciate you all!

I have venmo and kofi

Peace,

Loki’s Pet Tiger

#loki fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki marvel #imagine loki #loki #loki fanfiction #loki x ofc #loki x you #loki x reader #tom hiddleston loki #loki mcu #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine

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dutifully-secret-bouquets-stuff · 5 years

Text

A little Kastle I want to work on....

“I gotta walk out of here, Karen. And you can’t do it with me.”

His words play over and over in my head, a constant reminder that he had chosen a other war. Frank had chosen another life that I could not be a part of. He didn’t want me. And no matter how hard I try to pretend that he did it to keep me safe, the ache in my chest is a reminder me that it was not the case.

His pleading eyes haunt me, and every time I blink I can see his face. Bruises and cuts, scars from a fight with Russo. His eyes red rimmed and swollen, begging me to understand his choice, and of course I did. I knew what Frank had to do, and why he was doing it. He could not live without a fight, no matter how much I wanted it be different. No matter how many times I begged for an “after” his choice would always be the same. But even knowing this, I had searched in his warm eyes for a maybe, a fleeting hope, that maybe after this was over we could figure it out together. Searching for an admission, that,yes, he wanted an after that included me. But all I could see was pain, and a lingering longing. Longing for peace, redemption, for his family. Frank’s eyes were those of a broken man. A man with nothing to lose. Because really, what more could he lose? His whole family was gone, and his best friend had betrayed him.

So I walked away, made sure that Frank knew that I would never stand in his way. With my heart breaking and a lump in my throat, I stepped aside. No matter how much it broke my heart, I would respect his choice, even if in the process, my whole life came tumbling down.

Even as my heart cried out to him, my breath came a little quicker, and tears rimmed my eyes, I would do anything to help and protect the Punisher no matter how much I was hurting. So I left my shoes behind, and the hope that Frank would ever want a normal life.

But even still, I remember the elevator shaft, the way his blodied body felt against my forhead. Like time stood still to grant us one moment of peace, one moment together. So the more his last words repeated in my head, the more I try to convince myself that the longing in his eyes was not for me. That my touch had no effect in him. That if we would have gotten more time...maybe…

I have to convinve myself that Frank Castle feels nothing because I cannot keep tearing myself apart wishing for a future that will never be a possibility. I have to believe that Frank sees me only as Karen Page, paralegal, journalist, and nothing else. Maybe that way I can cope with the rejection. Maybe that way the sting will fade a little quicker. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I walk away from the chaos, I walk, and walk until the hospial alarms are only a faint echo in the distance. I turn to look at the police cars and ambulances that rush to the place I was escaping, and with one last glance, I mumble, “Goodbye, Frank.” Quickly turn and pray that Frank has made it out alive. That Madani’s plan worked, that the police uniform was enough. I hope, and wish that Frank, and the girl, Amy, are safe.

Involuntarily I shiver, and I run a hand up and down my… Ow! I gasp as soon as my had made contact with my right elbow. The fire extinguisher, I remebered. And as I take a peek at my hand I see the blood, and internally curse. Shit. Crimson bubbles from the gash on my hand. Blood pools in my palm. I gingerly poke at the cut and wince. It is a deep wound, I might need stiches, I laugh. Oh the irony, I think, leaving a hospial, only to need it a few minutes later. If this incident did not completely sum up my life, I would have laughed. But life has a funny way of making me realize that my life is a mess. That everything I touch, not matter my intentions, always blows up in my face, sooner or later.

I look at my hand covered in blood, and I follow the drops that are running down, and landing on the ground with a plop.

I tilt my had, and all the accumulated liquid rushes to the floor. As the blood continues its decent, my feet become warm and sticky.

“Mom, look! That lady has blood all over. Is she okay?!” a shrill voice calls out.

“Kevin,” the mom, I guess, calls out. “Get away from her.”

Kevin’s name snaps me out of my daze. I look around, and a crowd has gathered around to spectate the freak show that Karen Page has become.

“Sorry,” my right hand goes up in an attemp of apology.

“You are still bleeding, miss.”

Yep, that I am. Still bleeding. So I do the first thing I can think of. I untuck my blouse, and press the silky fabric against my injured hand. I hiss at the contact, and within seconds my hem is coated with blood. Turning away from the crowd I frantically search for my car.

Jesus Karen, get yourself together, I scold myself. Where did I park? Oh yes, I remember. So I run to my car, and as I get closer, I fumble inside my purse for the keys. I fish them out with my right had, and jump inside.

Once inside, I search for a bandage, anything. And of course, I find nothing. So I do the only rational thing, I rip the bottom of my shirt. The silk comes undone in a second, and as best as I can, I wrap my pounding hand. Blood drowns the white.

With my hand wrapped and delt with, I lean towards the passenger seat and find my running shoes. I dust my feet, and jam those babies in. At least I got a good use out of them.

I feel much better. Karen Page, full of blood, and with no socks, how is that for a cosmic joke.

As I laugh at how much the universe hates me, my phone rings.

Frank I immediately think. And without looking at the caller ID, I answer. “Hello?”

I expect to hear the gravel voice that is Frank, I am momentarily taken aback when the one who answers is Matt.

“Karen, hi. Where are you?”

“Hey Matt,” I sigh.

“Karen, are you okay? Where are you?” Fear fills his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I try to sound reassuring.

His tone shifts slightly once he hears that I am okay. “Well you missed lunch with me and Foggy, and you were not answering your messages” - “or mine,” Foggy chimed. - “then we saw the news about the hospital and…”

I cut him off, “Matt, I am fine, I just forgot, and my phone was on silent,” I lie, “but I will be there in a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

“You forgot, why? Is there someth….”

“See you later,” I say before hanging up.

I take a deep breath to calm down my serves, and without a second thought start the engine. I drive for what it seems to be hours, with Frank still in my head. The more distance between us the more my chest hurts. The more I wish he were here. I take a other left, and I am greeted with Nelson, Murdock, & Page painted in white letters on the glass door of our new offices.

It is not big change, but it is an upgrade from our old offices. Looking at the new letters, I momntarily remember how I got here. I see myself with Matt and Foggy being payed witn chickens, and how then my investigating skills with Frank’s case, one way or another everything leads back to Frank, earned me a spot in The Bulletin, and how that we to shit when I failed Ben. And now here I am again, right back where I started.

Without another thought about my shitty life, I climb out of my car, carefully as to not touch my hand, and head for the door. The smell of drying paint assaults my nostrils. God, we really need some airfreshners, I think.

“Hi Ms. Page, good to see … Ms. Page, are you okay?” Samantha, our part time office manager, questions.

“Yeah, great. I’ll be in Matt’s office.”

“But, Ms. Page…” Sam hesitates.

I ignore the worry in her voice, and follow the smell of food. Once infront of Matt’s office, I lift my chin, and open the door. Inside are Matt and Foggy, enjoying Chinese take out. And man, it smells delicious.

“Damn, that smells fantastic. I hope there’s some for me.” At the sound of my voice two heads turn to me. They take in my state, and Foggy’s eyes widen.

“What?” I say.

The first to speak is Matt.

“Karen, oh Karen.”

“What Matt?” I counter.

“Well for starters you smell of blood, and from what I didn’t hear, you aren’t wearing your heels. In fact you are wearing sneakers with no socks. Does that sound about right, Foggy?” Matt turns to Foggy, expecting a response.

“How did you realize that I wasn’t wearing… Right, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” I chuckle.

Foggy cannot say anything, he is frozen in place. A look of utter horror plastered on his face. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, and his eyebrows up to his forhead. It was quite a sight, except for the fact that it was me he was looking at.

#kastle fanfiction #kastle ff #kastle #karen page #frank castle x karen page #frank castle #matt murdock #foggy nelson #the punisher #mcu #netflix #s2 #frank x karen #hope you like it #i tried #tell me #what

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ofallingstar · 5 years

Text

First lines from the books I read in 2018

Hawksmoor by Peter Ackroyd: Thus is 1711, the ninth year of the reign of Queen Anne, an Act of Parliament was passed to erect seven new Parish Churches in the Cities of London and Westminster, which commission was delivered to Her Majesty’s Office of Works in Scotland Yard.

Métamorphose en bord de ciel by Mathias Malzieu: Les oiseaux, ça s'enterre en plein ciel.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen: The family of Dashwood had been long settled in Sussex.

Le plus petit baiser jamais recensé by Mathias Malzieu: Le plus petit baiser jamais recensé.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll: Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversations?”

Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll: One thing was certain, that the white kitten had had nothing to do with it -it was the black kitten’s fault entirely.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson: Ba-room, ba-room, ba-room, baripity, baripity, baripity, baripity-Good.

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin: Dear James: I had begun this letter five times and torn it up five times.

The Secret in Their Eyes by Eduardo Sacheri: Benjamín Miguel Chaparro stops short and decides he’s not going.

At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: I am forced into speech because men of science have refused to follow my advice without knowing why.

The Minds of Billy Milligan by Daniel Keyes: This books is the factual account of the life, up to now, of William Stanley Milligan, the first person in U.S. history to be found not guilty of major crimes, by reason of unsanity, because he possessed multiple personalities.

The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket: If you are interested in stories in happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book.

Puckoon by Spike Milligan: Several and a half metric miles North East of Sligo, split by a cascading stream, her body on earth, her feet in water, dwells the microcephalic community of Puckoon.

Piercing by Ryu Murakami: A small living creature asleep in its crib.

The Reptile Room by Lemony Snicket: The stretch of the road that leads out of this city, past Hazy Harbor and into the town of Tedia, is perhaps the most unpleasant in the world.

And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini: So, then.

The Shape of Water by Guillermo Del Toro and Daniel Kraus: Richard Strickland reads the brief from General Hoyt.

Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell: He’d stopped trying to bring her back.

Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell: The Rue du Coq d’Or, Paris, seven in the morning.

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart: Welcome to the beautiful Sinclair family.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusack: First the colors. Then the humans. That’s usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try.

The Wide Window by Lemony Snicket: If you didn’t know much about the Baudelaire orphans, and you saw them sitting on their suitcases at Damocles Dock, you might think they were bound for an exciting adventure.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson: No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.

Battles in the Desert by José Emilio Pacheco: I remember, I don’t remember.

The Miserable Mill by Lemony Snicket: Sometime during your lifetime -in fact, very soon- you may find yourself reading a book, and you may notice that a book’s first sentence can often tell you what sort of story your book contains.

The Age of American Unreason by Susan Jacoby: The word is everywhere, a plague spread by the President of the United States, television anchors, radio talk show hosts, preachers in megachurches, self-help gurus, and anyone else attempting to demostrate his or her identification with ordinary, presumably wholesome American values.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare: Theseus, duke of Athens, is planning the festivities for his upcoming wedding to the newly captured Amazon, Hippolyta.

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert: We were in study hall when the headmaster walked in, followed by a new boy not wearing a school uniform, and by a janitor carrying a large desk.

The Austere Academy by Lemony Snicket: If you were going to give a gold medal to the last delightful person on Earth, you would have to give that medal to a person named Carmelita Spats, and if you didn’t give it to her, Carmelita Spats was the sort of person who would snatch it from your hands anyway.

Lord of the Flies by William Golding: The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon.

The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare: Christopher Sly, a drunken beggar, is driven out of an alehouse by its hostess.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee: When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro: My name is Katy H.

Hear the Wind Sing by Haruki Murakami: “There’s no such thing as a perfect piece of writing.”

The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket: The book you are holding in your two hands right now -assuming that you are, in fact, holding this book, and that you have only two hands- is one of two books in the world that will show you the difference between the words “nervous” and the word “anxious.”

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare: Two households, both alike in dignity, (In fair Verona, where we lay our scene), From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

Adventure Time: The Enchiridion & Marcy’s Super Secret Scrapbook!!!: My Devoted Evil Daighter, Marceline, I admit we’ve had a somewhat volatile father-daughter relantionship ever since the regrettable Fry Incident.

A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin: Ser Waymar Royce glanced at the sky with desinterest.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.

Pinball, 1973 by Haruki Murakami: I used to love listening to stories about faraway places.

The Vile Village by Lemony Snicket: No matter who you are, no matter where you live, and no matter how many people are chasing you, what you don’t read is often as important as what you do read.

Dracula by Bram Stoker: 3 May. Bistritz. –Left Munich at 8:35 P.M., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:43, but train was an hour late.

The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare: I know this hartred mocks all Christian virtue, but They I loathe: their very sight abhors me.

On the Road by Jack Kerouac: I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up.

A Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami: It was a short one-paragraph item in the morning edition.

The Hostile Hospital by Lemony Snicket: There are two reasons why a writer would end a sentence with the word “stop” written in entirely in capital letters STOP.

The Most Beautiful: My Life with Prince by Mayte Garcia: The chain-link fence around Praisley Park is woven with purple ribbons and roses, love notes, tributes, and prayers for peace.

Hamlet by William Shakespeare: Who’s there?

A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin: The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the crags of Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.

Out of Africa by Isak Dinensen: I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of Ngong Hills.

Carrie by Stephen King: News item from the Westover (Me.) weekly enterprise, August 19, 1966: RAIN OF STONES REPORTED.

The Carnivorous Carnival by Lemony Snicket: When my workday is over, and I have closed my notebook, hidden my pen and sawed holes in my rented canoe so it cannot be found, I often like to spend the evening in conversation with my few surviving friends.

Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock by Matthew Quick: The P-38 WWII Nazi handgun looks comical lying on the breakfast table next to a boal of outmeal.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James: The story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless, but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on Christmas Eve on an old house, a strange tale should essentially be, I remember no comment uttered till somebody happened to say that it was the only tale he had met in which such a visitation had fallen on a child.

Carmilla by Sheridan J. Le Fanu: Upon a paper attached to the Narrative which follows, Doctor Hesselius has written a rather elaborated note, which he accompanies with a reference to his Essay on the strange subject which the MS. illuminates.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson: No one has ever suffered as I have.

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka: One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski: I still get nightmares.

Othello by William Shakespeare: In the streets of Venice, Iago tells Roderigo of his hatred for Othello, who has given Cassio the lieutenancy that Iago wanted and has made Iago a mere ensign.

Dance, Dance, Dance by Haruki Murakami: I often dream about the Dolphin Hotel.

The Slippery Slope by Lemony Snicket: A man of my acquaintance once wrote a poem called “The Road Less Traveled,” describing a journey he took through the woods along a path most travelers never used.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou: “What you looking at me for? I didn’t come to stay…”

A Most Haunted House by G. L. Davies: The house first came to my attention a few years ago.

Ghost Sex, The Violation by G. L. Davies: I met with Lisa at her home in Pembroke Dock.

Any Man by Amber Tamblyn: Am I in a body?

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay: “This must be so difficult for you, Meredith.”

A Storm of Swords by George R. R. Martin: The day was grey and bitter cold, and the dogs would not take the scent.

Macbeth by William Shakespeare: When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain?

You by Caroline Kepnes: You walk into the bookstore and you keep your hand on the door to make sure it doesn’t slam.

The Grim Grotto by Lemony Snicket: After a great deal of examining oceans, investigating rainstorms and staring very hard at several drinking fountains, the scientists of the worlds developed a theory regarding how water is distributed around our planet, which they have named “the water cycle.”

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys: They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did.

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen: About thirthy years ago, Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the country of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet’s lady, with all the comforts and consequences of a handsome house and a large income.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë: My name is Gilbert Markham, and my story begings in October 1827, when I was twenty-four years old.

The Tempest by William Shakespeare: Boatswain!

Lucky by Alice Sebold: In the tunnel where I was raped, a tunnel that was once an underground entry to an amphitheather, a place where actors burst forth from underneath the seats of a crowd, a girl had been murdered and dismembered.

The Penultimate Peril by Lemony Snicket: Certain people had said that the world is like a calm pond, and that anytime a person does even the smallest thing, it is as if a stone has dropped into the pond, spreading circles of ripples further and further out, until the entire world has been changed by one tiny action.

#books #books 2018 #long post #like... really really long

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gumnut-logic · 6 years

Text

Learn

Title: Learn Part 5 of 6, some time after Laugh Author: Gumnut 10-14 Aug 2018 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015 Rating: Teen Summary: For the world is unkind and it needs your touch. Word count: 4313 Spoilers & warnings: None Author's note: Unlike the previous chapters of this fic, this one ends at a point that obviously needs to be continued. I wouldn’t really call it a cliffhanger, but part 6 is definitely needed to finish it off. As to the content - you wanted whump, you got whump, lots of it. Not graphic, but still, poor Virgil. Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Virgil woke to dust and pain.

Shoving his eyes open didn’t give him much further information other than dim light, blur and haze. Blinking he forced his vision to clear somewhat, his head threatened to spin him away, but he grit his teeth. Dust and pain were not a good combination, he knew that much.

He was on his back, in dim shadowy light, on lumpy hard rock. His hand twitched and his fingernails caught dirt. Experimenting, he lifted his arm. It worked. Ached with what was likely a mass of bruises, but it still worked. He held his hand in front of his face. He could see it, his fingers moving in the dim light.

There was no glove on his hand.

Where was his uniform? Uh.

What the hell had happened?

He was in civvies. His usual flannel shirt, grey undershirt. His hand brushed his thigh. Jeans.

He lifted a leg, but was told in immediate and no uncertain terms that it was a bad idea. His leg seemed fine, but his gut screamed loud enough to shut down most of the processes in his brain. The world greyed for a moment.

No.

Stay awake.

He forced his eyes open again.

Dust floated in the air.

His head was at an angle enough to see partway down his body. And what he saw was enough to let him know that moving pretty much anything was out of the question.

Something was sticking out the right side of his abdomen. A three-quarter inch thick mangled rod of metal protruded by about four inches. His grey undershirt was soaking up red.

Panic hit him. Oh, god. Get it out, get it out!

No.

You can’t move.

Reason clamped down on him and strangled his scream into a whimper.

“Mr Virgil?”

Huh?

“Mr Virgil?” A high-pitched voice. A kid? There were scrabbling sounds from his left and one of the shadows got darker. Without thinking, Virgil grabbed the edge of his flannel shirt and covered the wound, hiding it.

“Mr Virgil, are you okay?” A young boy of about eight, coated in dirt, sporting scratches and a bleeding scrape above his left eye appeared amongst the floating dust.

Daniel. His name was Daniel.

And it explained so much. Virgil was in Wellington with Angela and the kids art group.

Several years ago, Virgil had rescued Angela from a gondola lift on the South Island. She had been the last one to be evacuated and, to keep her calm, he got her talking. Turned out she was an art teacher who helped disadvantaged kids in Wellington. Virgil found himself interested and investigated further. For the last couple of years, he had been dropping in when he could to help with the kids. He’d even learnt a little himself. The kids didn’t know of his involvement with International Rescue. He was just Mr Virgil who liked to play with paint.

Virgil liked it that way.

So he was in Wellington, at the school with the kids. What had happened?

“Mr Virgil?”

He blinked and realised he hadn’t answered. He croaked, “Daniel, are you okay?”

Wrong question. Daniel’s face immediately crumpled and he burst into tears, throwing himself at Virgil’s chest. A good thirty kilos of kid hit his body, forcing out a gasp of pain. “Mr Virgil!” Daniel jumped back, tears still falling.

“I’m…I’m okay.” He forced it out between his teeth. Breathe. In. Out.

He needed help. He needed it now.

Civvies, but ever since John’s adventure at the charity auction, Brains had embedded comms in all their clothes. He poked his collar. “J-John?”

“Virgil? What’s wrong?”

“W-we have a situation.”

-o-o-o-

Scott was in the shower when the alarm went off.

Damn it.

Soap was hurriedly washed out of his hair, the water cut off and a towel deployed. He left wet footprints in the hallway.

There were no smart ass comments when he hit the comms room, however. Both his brothers’ expressions were more shocked than anything else. John was hovering in the middle of the lounge, a hologram of a collapsed building in front of him.

“Report!”

“St Bart’s College has been bombed.” Gordon’s voice was hoarse.

Scott stared at him. “St Bart’s as in Virgil’s St Bart’s?”

John interrupted. “Preliminary reports claim a student disgruntled with his grades is responsible. A good percentage of the building has collapsed…including the section where Virgil was assisting with his class.” Scott opened his mouth, but John continued. “Virgil has made contact.” Oh thank god. But John had a calm expression and this wasn’t it. “He’s injured, but conscious. I have no readouts on his status as he is not wearing his uniform.” John swallowed, obviously frustrated at the lack of information he usually had. “There are multiple lifesigns under the rubble. They need us.”

Scott didn’t hesitate. “Gordon, you have Thunderbird 2, Alan, you’re with him.” He clung to his towel, moving before he had even finished speaking. “Thunderbirds are go.”

-o-o-o-

John had a lot of questions.

Daniel had a lot of questions.

Virgil had no answers.

Breathing was beginning to hurt. “John, just gimme a sec.” A breath.

“Virgil-“

“They are on their way. They will be here soon. I get it. Just, I need to breathe, bro.” He tried to keep it light, but there was a gasp in his breath he couldn’t hide.

John went silent. Virgil closed his eyes a moment and tried not to move.

“Mr Virgil?”

He forced his eyes open. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Daniel? Are any of the other students with you?”

“I’ll look.” The boy turned away and began to crawl back through the gap in the rubble.

Virgil reached to grab his ankle. “No! Stay he-“ Augh, oh god, don’t move, damnit! The boy slipped away, leaving Virgil by himself.

“Virgil?” No, never entirely by himself.

“John, how many life readings are you receiving from the classroom?” Or what was left of it.

“Seven.” The single word held all the apology and sympathy his brother could convey. Seven out of fifteen. His eyes slid closed again.

“Virgil?”

Was it possible to get sick of hearing your own name? “I-I’m here.”

“You still haven’t given me a report on your injuries.”

“Daniel w-was here.”

“Tell me, Virgil.”

He took a breath. “M-mostly okay. Maybe concussion. Worst is ab-abdominal. Right side. Maybe rebar. C-n’t move.” Abdominal was never good. He dreaded to think what was happening down there. And how much time he actually had left.

John was quiet a moment, then the channel switched over to a background sound ever so familiar. Thunderbird One. “Virg?”

“Hey, Scott. S-sorry to r-ruin your day off.”

“I was in the shower, Virgil. Very inconvenient.”

“G-good practise.” Virgil smirked just slightly.

“Next time I’m making you a contender in the towel Olympics.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Hey, if you got out of bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t be caught so often.”

“Your ‘r-reasonable hours’ are anything but, f-flyboy.”

Scott’s laugh was forced, but it was a valiant effort. “I’m on approach now, Virgil. Won’t be long.”

“Gordon, f-flying?”

“Of course.”

“Not a scratch.”

“Too late.”

“W-What?!”

“He clipped her wing exiting the hanger.”

“What the hell?!”

Somewhere in the distance outside his tomb of rock and dust he could just hear the roar of TB1’s approach. “Landing now.”

“Scott!”

“Sorry, can’t talk. Busy rescuing.” His grin danced down the comline.

Virgil glared at the slab of wall hanging over him.

-o-o-o-

The college grounds were a mess. One building was levelled, no lifesigns. Another, the one pinning his brother, had sagged to one side. Half up, half down, entirely precarious. Fourteen lives hung in the balance under the rubble. One was his brother’s.

On landing, he was immediately approached by the site head and briefed. Moments later, Thunderbird Two’s engines took over the soundscape, her massive green bulk landing beside her sister before pushing herself up on her landing struts to reveal Module Two beneath her wings.

“Gordon, we need both pods, pick and throw.” It would have helped to have Virgil in his exo-suit. “Alan, you have one, I’ll have the other. Gordon, you’re on heavy lifting with Thunderbird Two. We’re going to have to take this one slowly. This house of cards is just asking to fall.”

-o-o-o-

The rock above him was beginning to blur when he was startled by movement in the gap Daniel had disappeared into.

“Mr Virgil! I found Marissa, Johnny, Alex and Jana.” The eight-year-old clambered into the space beside him and four other children, ragged and tear streaked, followed him in. “Ms Angela won’t wake up. Neither will Chrissie, and I couldn’t find anyone else.”

Virgil stared up at the five faces peering down at him. Alex was holding his arm awkwardly, Jana had a large scrape down one side of her face and appeared unsteady, but the other two seemed okay.

“O-okay, Daniel, good job.” He tried not to spare a thought for Chrissie or Angela, knowing in his heart that at least one of them was dead. “Are any of you hurt?”

Alex nodded, but Jana didn’t respond. “Jana?” He couldn’t reach her from where he was lying. “Daniel, can you please check on Jana? B-bring her closer?”

“Jana! Mr Virgil wants you to come over here!”

Virgil blinked. Not quite what he had in mind. But it worked. Jana started and clambered over the rocks to Virgil’s side. He looked up at her. It was hard to see in the dim light, but her expression was glazed. The scrape was seeping blood and plasma. “Jana? Can you hear me?”

She blinked slowly, looking down at him. “Mr Virgil?” Her voice was a whisper. “I don’t feel very good.”

“Johnny?”

“Yes?” “Mr Virgil?” The answer came from two sources – his collar and the young boy in front of him. He sighed. “John, meet Johnny. He’s going to help look after Jana.”

“Hello, Johnny.” John’s gentle voice bounced off the rocks.

“Who’s that?” Four of the children crowded even closer. Jana still had a vague look on her face and was staring at nothing in particular.

Virgil’s concern for the girl grew even more. “John is my…from International Rescue and he is going to help us.”

“International Rescue? Really?” Daniel looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

Virgil couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Yes, there are two Thunderbirds outside right now. And they are going to help us get out of here.” He swallowed as a wave of dizziness wafted out of nowhere. “But in the meantime, Johnny, I need you to help Jana. She is not feeling very w-well, and she needs you to look after her.”

The young boy eyed the wavering girl before shifting over and wrapping an arm around her. “Okay, I’ll look after her.” He seemed hesitant, but at the same time, having a job to do appeared to stabilise him too. Jana slowly looked up at Alex before resting her head on his shoulder.

Virgil drew in a shaky breath. “John, how’s it going? I have five children, two with injuries.”

“Sorry, Virgil. Scott says it is slow going. They have to secure large parts of the building remains to prevent further collapse.” As if to emphasize that statement, dust suddenly poured through a gap just on the other side of Marissa. She squealed and scooted forward, directly into Virgil’s left side.

He gasped and bit off a scream. Spots swam in his vision. “Pl-please…”

“Don’t touch him!” Daniel shouted at her and dragged her back. “He’s hurt.”

Marissa’s eyes widened and filled with tears. She began to cry.

“Virgil?” John’s voice was beyond concerned.

“I’m…”He tried to breathe without moving. “I’m…o-okay.” Focus. Calm. He reached out a trembling hand to Marissa, managing to catch her knee. “I-it’s okay. W-was an ac-cident.” He had to shut his eyes for a moment as another wave of dizziness hit him. God. “Scott? M-may need t-to hurry.”

-o-o-o-

IR pods were of the most efficient design possible, but this was a haphazard game of pickup sticks with lives as the prize.

And they weren’t moving fast enough.

Each chunk of masonry had to be checked for possible movement before moving it. Keep everything balanced. They had had to start on the opposite side of the building to where Virgil and the children were due to stability issues and it was taking forever.

“Scott.”

“I know, John.”

“I know you know and I know. I’m sorry.”

There had to be a faster way than this. He paused a moment taking a few extra precious seconds to reassess the structure. Six lifesigns where his brother was. Plus one in a larger area just beyond him. Seven more in the remains of another classroom, two of whom they had already managed to rescue. Virgil was under a collapsed wall, its remains supported by the collapsed roof in the corner of the former classroom. Beyond that wall, a shallow crawl space had been created by another wall that appeared to be supported by nothing other than tables and chairs. That wall had fallen before the roof and the roof was piled on top of it in pieces which in turn was supporting Virgil’s wall. A wrong move and all seven lives, including that of his brother, would be lost.

All they could do was pick and throw, gently removing the weight from above, clearing the way for TB2 to get a grip on the masonry and secure it.

“Virgil, you with me?”

“H-here.” His voice was shaky.

“You’ve done it properly this time, little brother. You wanting to test my skill set or something?”

“Or-or something.”

Scott swallowed, forcing his bravado. “Well, just as well you’ve got such a cool brother, because this is no challenge, you hear me? We’ll have you out of there in no time.”

“G-great, Scott.”

“Yeah, yeah, Doc Brown. You hang in there, you hear me?”

“Do my-my best.”

“You better.”

-o-o-o-

“Your brother works for International Rescue?”

Virgil blearily turned to look at Daniel. “Yeah, S-scott, he’s f-field commander.”

“Wow, that is so cool.”

Virgil’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Yeah, ‘tis.”

“Have you ever got to fly in a Thunderbird?”

“Yeah.” He frowned, his head was getting foggier.

“Which one?”

“Two.” Of course.

“Not One? I think One is the coolest. Shaped like a rocket and everything. Then there is Three. That one is a rocket. It would be so cool to ride on Three.” Virgil let the boy’s chatter echo around him. At least it was keeping him and the other children distracted from their situation. He closed his eyes a moment and let himself drift.

No.

Stay awake!

“T-two’s pretty cool.”

“I guess, but what’s with the colour? That green is so not cool.”

“Is, t-too. Mom’s colour.”

“Whose colour?”

“Mom’s.” Virgil shook himself, and gasped. No, no movement. Stay…stay awake.

“Mine’s red. Like Thunderbird Three.”

“E-emerald green. L-like the grass after rain.” Mom.

“Virgil.”

Rain.

“Virgil.”

Thunderbird Green.

“Virgil!”

He started. “Oh, god. John?”

“You hanging in there, big brother?”

“He’s your brother too?” Daniel was staring at him.

“Uh, huh.”

“Daniel, can you hear me?” Great, now John was talking around him.

“Mr John?”

“Yes, you are being very good, Daniel. Now I need you to help Mr Virgil stay awake. He has to stay awake. Do you think you can help him with that?”

“Is he tired?”

“Yes, but he can’t sleep. Not yet, not until his brothers get you out of there. See if you can keep him talking.”

“Okay, I can try.”

“Thank you, Daniel.” A pause. “Virgil?”

“Huh?”

“Scott and Alan are on pick and flick. They will get to you soon. Your job is to stay awake and hang in there. Can you do that?

“C-can.”

“You better.”

-o-o-o-

“What if we reinforced this section here and tunnelled our way to that crawl space.”

“Risky.”

“I know that, John. We’re running out of time.”

“Virgil’s isn’t the only life at stake here.”

“I know that, too. For god’s sake, John.”

“I’m voting for the crawl space. We are getting nowhere with pick and flick. The pile is too fragile. We can reinforce it from beneath and make our way through that way.” Gordon’s voice was tired and on the edge of desperate. Despite rescuing seven people already, four of them children, nothing they had tried so far had gotten them any closer to their brother. The strain was showing. They had no doubt that with an abdominal perforation, chances were that Virgil’s time was severely limited. They had to move faster.

But without risking more.

Scott stared at the hologram and weighed their chances.

“Deploy the jacks.”

-o-o-o-

“Why don’t we sing a song?”

What?

Things were getting fuzzy. Daniel…

“How about Camptown Races?” A girl’s voice.

“Ugh, I hate that chicken.”

“Mulberry Bush?”

“Nah. Mr Virgil, do you have a favourite song?”

Mr Virgil? Oh, that was him. He blinked repeatedly attempting to bring his brain back online. “Um. Uh, I-I don’t sing.”

“You don’t sing? Why not?”

He screwed his eyes shut a moment. “Um…”

“Why don’t you sing, Mr Virgil?”

Hurts.

“Mom…died.”

“Your Mom died? Really?”

There was something in the boy’s voice that brought Virgil back into focus abruptly. “I-it was a l-long time ago. D-don’t worry.”

But it didn’t seem to be enough and Daniel stopped talking. He turned his head towards the boy, blinking blearily. “Daniel?”

“Do you think we are going to die?”

“N-no, no, Intern-tional Rescue will get us out. Th-they will.”

“But what if they don’t?” Tears were appearing in Daniel’s eyes. There were sobs from the other children.

A breath. By force of will. “Because I know they will, Daniel. I trust them with my life. I-I trust them w-with yours.” He sagged and held back a whimper. Please, Scott, hurry.

He focussed on breathing for the next moment or two, the children’s sobs slowly dropping off. Somewhere in the distance there was an erratic hammering.

“I- I know a song.” The words were out before he could think about it any further.

Four pairs of eyes fixed on him. Jana was still awake, but not fully aware of her surroundings.

“Can you sing it, Mr Virgil?”

“I c-can try.” Using as little of his stomach muscles as possible, he drew in a breath.

Listen, my son. Listen and learn Be what you can And make what you will be

The tune was slow and gentle, but his voice was scratchy and broken and he wasn’t doing it justice. He suspected his mother had made up the song. Some of his earliest memories were of her singing it softly.

L-Love with your all Share with your heart And know I am there for you And will always be

Maybe she was. He didn’t know. All he knew is that she was gone.

If you can hear A-answer If you have v-voice Sing For the world is unkind And it needs your t-touch.

There was dust in his throat and it brought tears to his eyes.

Then he was coughing and the world disappeared in a blaze of pain.

-o-o-o-

It became a tunnel under the debris. Jacks held up everything but even then there was only enough room to crawl on his belly. Virgil was their expert on this kind of excavation. He would have known exactly where to dig, what support was needed, the safest way in…focus! It was no good wishing for what you didn’t have. Work with what you do have.

His father’s voice echoed inside his head.

Securing what he hoped was the last tunnel jack, he lasered through the remaining chunk of collapsed masonry. Shining his flashlight into the gap beyond, he encountered a forest of school desk legs. Art tables. Strong, sturdy, flecked with paint.

“Gordon, I’m through. Follow with the jacks and secure.”

“FAB.”

He dragged himself into the darkness, the tough material of his uniform doing its job as he scraped over rock and grit.

His light landed on the face of a woman, her eyes closed. He reached out and touched her dust-coated throat. A thready pulse. “Alan, we have a survivor, unknown female adult. I need you in here with a drag board.”

“FAB, Scott.”

Behind him he could hear Gordon lugging in the jacks. At least being smaller the aquanaut would be able to navigate the table legs with more ease than Scott was managing.

As he moved the darkness lightened to reveal a young girl. Not a survivor. There had been so many today. He passed her by.

He could hear singing.

Virgil?

Shuffling on his stomach he headed slightly to his left, bending his shoulders sideways to get around the table legs and avoid a tipped over chair. He dare not touch anything before the jacks were in place. Beams of light flicking around behind reassured him that his brothers were making that happen.

The words of the song in his brother’s strained voice reached his ears. Goddamnit, Virgil! He shone the light around desperately attempting to find that hole between the crawl space and that bolthole his brother was in. There, no….damnit….there.

He shifted just as the song burst into a fit of coughing, a cut off scream and a painful moan.

“Virgil!”

No answer.

“Gordon, get a jack over here!” He turned his head only to find his brother right beside him, the lightweight jack already in his hand.

“Crawl space is secure as it is going to get.” His smaller brother, lithely slipped between the last of the table legs and set up the jack to support the opening.

Children were crying.

“Gordon, get in there. Get the kids out.”

His brother didn’t hesitate, slipping easily into the small hole. “Hey, kids. It is time to get out of here.”

“Who are you?” The challenge was little more than a sob.

“International Rescue, at your service.”

“Are you Mr Virgil’s brother? Mr John?”

“Uh, no, I’m Mr Gordon. Now kids we need to hurry. Mr Scott needs to get in here and help Mr Virgil.”

And then there were kids filing out.

He did his best to smile at them, but every fibre in his being needed to be in there with Virgil. Gordon appeared last, helping a little girl. The expression on his face made it clear he was torn, not wanting to leave, but there were kids to care for and he knew his responsibility. “I’ll be back asap.” His eyes latched onto Scott’s and the eldest steeled himself.

As soon as his brother was out of the way, Scott made it to the gap and squeezed himself through. His flashlight painted his brother in pale skin and red blood.

Not daring to think, Scott immediately set into a first aid assessment. His brother had lost consciousness and no prodding or calling of his name got any response. His pulse was fast. There was a darkening bruise on his right temple, but it was the spreading stain of red at his waist that had Scott gently pulling away his red flannelette shirt to reveal the injury he knew was underneath.

Scott bit his lip to hold back his reaction. “No challenge, bro. None.” He drew in a breath. “Gordon, we need another drag board in here.”

“Here already, Scott.” His brother’s head poked through the gap. “Kids are with the paramedics.”

Scott didn’t respond. “He’s impaled on the wall’s rebar. We’re going to have to cut him out. Pad the wound while I try to find a way to free him.”

Gordon palmed the board’s heavy duty first aid kit while Scott attempted to find a way to get to the other side of his brother in this cramped space. He ended up straddling him, one knee either side of his hips and bending awkwardly to see where that blasted piece of metal entered his brother.

There was blood everywhere.

A combination of his flashlight and his fingertips found the entrance wound and the tiny amount of space below it. He didn’t want to move his brother at all, but getting the laser down there… Screw it, he’d obliterate the wall if he had to. “Gordon, hold him.”

His brother anchored Virgil with his own weight, holding him as still as possible. Scott activated the laser and cut through stone and metal, severing the impaling rebar from the fallen wall, leaving the chunk still inside his brother, but freeing him for evacuation.

“Okay, pad it and ready for transport.” His fingers were covered in his brother’s blood.

No time to think.

Fistfuls of wound wadding later, his brother was stabilised for transport.

A small sigh and Virgil stopped breathing.

“Oh, goddamnit, don’t you dare.”

Gordon grabbed the drag board and lined it up with his second eldest brother. A count to three and they lifted Virgil onto the flat surface, Scott tipping his brother’s head back and forcing breath into his lungs. Don’t you dare, Virgil. Don’t you…

“No pulse.” Gordon’s voice broke.

“Goddamnit, Virgil!” He let the anger fuel him. Counting in his head as Gordon began compressions and he breathed for his brother. Why don’t you listen? The world needs you.

I need you.

Alan poked his head in, face pale, wordlessly handing over a bag valve mask. Scott grabbed it and placed it over his brother’s face, pumping filtered air into his lungs. His fingers sought his brother’s pulse. C’mon, Virg, please.

There was a cough under the mask.

Gordon paused, hovering to resume.

A soft thud beneath Scott’s fingertips. Another. Virgil’s chest rose by itself.

Okay.

“Move.” His brothers moved in concert, not a word said. Virgil was likely in hypovolemic shock and could crash again at any time.

They moved.

-o-o-o-

Part 6 - Love

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #whump #lots of whump #gumnutfic

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coralbibliophileatwriters-blog · 5 years

Text

Kastle fanfiction I am planning.

“I gotta walk out of here, Karen. And you can’t do it with me.”

I look at my hand covered in blood, and I follow the drops that are running down, and landing on the ground with a plop.

I tilt my had, and all the accumulated liquid rushes to the floor. As the blood continues its decent, my feet become warm and sticky.

“Mom, look! That lady has blood all over. Is she okay?!” a shrill voice calls out.

“Kevin,” the mom, I guess, calls out. “Get away from her.”

Kevin’s name snaps me out of my daze. I look around, and a crowd has gathered around to spectate the freak show that Karen Page has become.

“Sorry,” my right hand goes up in an attemp of apology.

“You are still bleeding, miss.”

With my hand wrapped and delt with, I lean towards the passenger seat and find my running shoes. I dust my feet, and jam those babies in. At least I got a good use out of them.

I feel much better. Karen Page, full of blood, and with no socks, how is that for a cosmic joke.

As I laugh at how much the universe hates me, my phone rings.

Frank I immediately think. And without looking at the caller ID, I answer. “Hello?”

I expect to hear the gravel voice that is Frank, I am momentarily taken aback when the one who answers is Matt.

“Karen, hi. Where are you?”

“Hey Matt,” I sigh.

“Karen, are you okay? Where are you?” Fear fills his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I try to sound reassuring.

I cut him off, “Matt, I am fine, I just forgot, and my phone was on silent,” I lie, “but I will be there in a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

“You forgot, why? Is there someth….”

“See you later,” I say before hanging up.

“Hi Ms. Page, good to see … Ms. Page, are you okay?” Samantha, our part time office manager, questions.

“Yeah, great. I’ll be in Matt’s office.”

“But, Ms. Page…” Sam hesitates.

“Damn, that smells fantastic. I hope there’s some for me.” At the sound of my voice two heads turn to me. They take in my state, and Foggy’s eyes widen.

“What?” I say.

The first to speak is Matt.

“Karen, oh Karen.”

“What Matt?” I counter.

“How did you realize that I wasn’t wearing… Right, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” I chuckle.

#kastle #karen x frank #kastleff #karen page #frank castle #frank castiglione #pete castiglione #s2 #canon #hope you like it #i tried

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winterwriter8845 · 6 years

Text

The Aggressive Flirt and the Idiot Gang Leader (Part 2)

Part 1 ��Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Jacob Frye x oc

Word count: 1715

Warnings: none

***Next part will be smut***

Vanessa's POV

I watched from the rooftop as Jacob walked about on the ground. "Let's play a little game, Jacob dear, shall we?" I grinned as I jumped down. I walked up to him. "Jacob, dear. How are you?"

"I'm fine. And you?"

"Splendid," I smirked.

"So what shall we do today?" He asked.

"I can think of a few things..." I started to walk away, swaying my hips as I did. I heard him hold back a groan, and I smiled to myself.

"Vanessa," he called after me. "Wait."

I stopped and turned to him. "What is it?" I locked eyes with him for a few moments, trying to hint at something. Then I looked away.

He was blushing badly as if he knew what I was saying. "I-I-"

I looked innocently at him, twirling my hair in my fingers. "What is it, Jacob?"

"I-I-" He took a deep breath. "I'd like to take you on a date."

I blinked at him innocently. "Hmm..." I cocked my head to the side, still twirling my hair in my fingertips. "Yes."

His eyes lit up. Oh, but you're going to be in for a surprise, dear Jacob. "We can go now if you want."

I nodded. "Just let me go back to the pub so I can change."

He nodded. "I will do the same."

I nodded. I turned on my heels to go to the pub, but he caught my hand. "How shall we meet?"

"Pick me up at the pub." I flipped my hair, my lips curling into a flirtatious smile.

He smiled and nodded. "I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

I nodded and turned on my heels. As I walked, I swayed my hips, knowing he'd be watching me walk away. Once I was out of his sight, I skipped a little. Sure, I was playing a game with him, but a little sliver of me hoped that none of this would be a game to him and he'd stay with me forever.

I reached the pub and walked to my room. I dug out a simple dress from my suitcase. It was black, and it tightened around my breasts to push them out a little. That'd be perfect for Jacob; his mind will go wild. I grinned at the thought of Jacob going wild during our date.

I slipped the dress on then put my hair up in a bun. I strapped some throwing knives to the outside of one of my thighs and a pistol to the other. I couldn't wear my assassin gauntlet because my sleeves were too short, and the gauntlet would show. I slipped on my boots since they wouldn't show because my dress skirt was long. I put some makeup on then went downstairs to the bar to wait for Jacob.

I heard the door open, and I looked back to see Jacob. He took his top hat off as he saw me. "Ms. O'Connell, you look so beautiful."

I blushed, looking down. "Thank you. And you look handsome."

He smiled. He held his arm out to me to take, and I took it. He led me outside to the carriage that was waiting. He helped me into the carriage then got in after me. He sat across from me. The carriage pulled away from the curb, and I looked out the window. The rain had lightened up some, so it was a drizzle now.

"So where are we going?" I asked him, looking at him.

"That, love, is a secret. You'll just have to wait."

I bit my lip. "Hmm, is that so?" I grinned devilishly. "Maybe I can coax it from you..." I reached over to his leg, and my hand trailed up his leg. I grinned in triumph when I heard him hold back a groan. I removed my hand from his thigh and placed it on his neck. "Jacob, dear, where are we going?"

He took a gulp. I watched his Adam's Apple bob. I looked up at him with lustful eyes. He was watching me with lustful eyes as well, but there was a hint of nervousness in them.

"What's wrong, Mr. Frye? Never been intimate with a lady before?"

"I-N-no," he stuttered. "No, I've been intimate with a woman before. It's just... I-"

"Hmm?" I ran my thumb gently over his throat.

"That... was a different situation."

"How so?"

"It's been so long, I can't recall."

He was lying, I could tell. He just didn't want to tell, but I didn't push him further. Instead, I just looked at him innocently but with lustful eyes. He licked his lips nervously.

The carriage came to a halt, and Jacob and I got out. "We're here." Jacob took my hand, leading me away from the curb. It was Big Ben. It was nearly dusk, so the clock was lit up, and the twilight sky was cast behind him. I was about to say something, but I was cut off by an explosion off in the distance.

Jacob and I jerked our heads up in the direction the explosion came. I pulled my throwing knives out and began to run towards it. Jacob was hot on my heels. We reached the explosion and were greeted by some Blighters. I threw two knives at two of the brutes, and the knives lodged into their necks. Two more Blighters ran at us, one of which had his pistol pointed at me. He pulled the trigger, and I dodged to the right, but the bullet lodged into my leg. I screamed out in pain, holding my leg wound.

Jacob threw a knife, and it lodged into the shooter's head. I shot the other one in the head with my pistol. Jacob ran to me. "Vanessa." He wrapped his arm around my shoulders so I could lean into his side to take some weight off my bad leg.

"We need to get the children out of the fire," I said.

A little girl ran up to us. She was a green dress on, and her face was speckled with freckles. Her dark brown, almost black, hair was pulled back into two braids.

"Clara," Jacob said, his voice urgent.

"There are still children in there," she coughed.

"We'll get them out," I said as I helped her to side, out of the way, so she could sit and try to breathe.

I looked to Jacob. "Come on," I yelled.

"Vanessa, your leg," he pointed out.

"I don't care. I'll be fine. We have to save the children."

Jacob looked around. He whistled towards a group of men in green uniforms. They came running over to us. "Help us get the children out."

"Aye, sir," one of them said. The three of them ran into the building, leaving Jacob and I out in the rain.

I looked back to Clara. "Will you be alright?"

She nodded. "But will you be?" She nodded towards my leg wound.

I nodded. I ran into the burning factory. Jacob was right behind me. The thick smoke filled my lungs and altered my sight. I covered my face so my eyes and nose were protected but to where I could see. "We need to split up."

Jacob went off in another direction after nodding.

I found a little girl knelt down to the floor near a boy about the same age as her. She had his hand in her's, trying to get him to get up, but he was unconscious.

I ran to them, despite my wound still bleeding. "I'm here," I said to the little girl. "Hold onto my dress." She did as I said and held onto the skirt. I picked the boy up in my arms and carried him outside with the girl still holding my dress.

I walked over to Clara and laid the boy down next to her. She seemed to be breathing better. I ran back into the factory. I saved three more children before the wound started to slow me down. I was in the factory when the pain caught up with me. It was getting hard to breathe, and the smoke was overwhelming me.

I collapsed to the floor. "Jacob..." I whimpered. I was starting to lose consciousness.

"I'm here, Vanessa," I heard Jacob say. He grabbed my hand and helped me up. He wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned me into his side to take some pressure off my leg. I ended up collapsing, but he caught me. He picked me up, bridal style, and carried me out of the burning building. He sat me on the ground to look at my leg.

"I need to take care of the pain..." I whimpered.

"The children can find some," Clara said.

I looked at her through teary eyes. The pain was becoming unbearable.

"We need to get you somewhere safe," Jacob said.

I could only nod as I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. I couldn't feel my leg at this point.

One of the Rooks joined us. "We can take you."

Jacob nodded. He picked me up and followed the Rook to a carriage. "Clara, come with us." I looked behind us to see Clara following us. We all got in the carriage, and Jacob sat me down. He took his coat off then his vest to his undershirt. He took a whole sleeve off and folded it up. He handed it to me. "Can you hold this to your leg?"

I nodded. I took the folded cloth and held it to my wound. I watched as he slipped his vest and jacket back on. Once he was done, he held the cloth to my leg as I was getting too weak from the blood loss to even lift my own arm. I looked at the reflection of myself in the window to see my face were pale.

We eventually arrived at the pub where Jacob carried me into my room, and Clara went to fetch some pain medicine. The Rook who drove us to the pub went to fetch a doctor.

Jacob held the cloth to my leg with one hand and held my hand in the other. "Please stay awake."

I could only nod as it was getting hard to keep the world from tilting. I looked up at him with droopy eyes. The world went black, and Jacob's voice was the last thing I heard.

"Vanessa!"

#jacob frye #part 2 #my writing #writers on tumblr #Assassin's Creed #jacob frye x oc #ac syndicate

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devinlucas · 3 years

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One reason why sales of private jets are on the rise is because of increasing affluence of the people.

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armytae18 · 6 years

Text

The Past and The Present

Possible love triangle series: rating- mature

Word count: 2314

Chapter7

------

Jungkook's POV:

I woke up next to Taehyung who was still sleeping, I ruffled my messy red locks. I smiled looking down as his sleepy face, he reminded me of a cute like puppy but sadly I didn't always love him. When I was younger I didn't think I'd ever find my mate at all and that scared me. I ended up falling in love with Jimin. I didn't know if it was because he was the future leader of the group or if it was because he was just hella sexy.

~ Flashback~

I watched from the gardens as Jimin walked by his father's side as he showed him around the castle and the multiple responsibilities he would have later once he grew up. Jimin glanced over to where I was standing with his piercing hazel eyes. I felt so nervous that my stomach was filling with butterflies. Not knowing what to do I waved at him but he didn't wave back he just smirked and continued walking with his dad.

'Did he just smirk at me?' I thought blushing so I walked back to my room with that question on my mind. I laid in bed checking my phone to see if anything interesting was happening. 'I doubt Jimin would like me. He doesn't seem to be gay, I found out when I was 14, I went on a date with a girl and she tried kissing my cheek and I felt grossed out. I just left her there, now I regret doing that too her. I turned my phone off and went to bed.

~A 6 months later~

My dad told me I had to go to this thing for young vampires like me. It was a coming of age type party. "Do I have to go dad?" I asked, I didn't want to go because I knew I didn't get along with any of the other vampires. "Yes son you have too. You're my only son and you're at the age where you find your mate. This is the best event to kickstart the search." He informed me as he fixed my tie. I signed upset and looked at myself in the mirror. I was in a black tux with a red tie, my black hair was slicked up.

-skip to the event-

It's been 2 hours at this party and I was getting bored of it all. I had so many girls try to flirt with me and get in my pants. I rolled my eyes going to the bar to get something to drink. "Do you have anything other than alcohol?" I asked the bartender and he shook his head. "I guess I'll just take a jack and Coke but not a lot of Jack please." I said as he whips up my drink. I hear shoes clicked behind me and I turn around to see Jimin. "Hey Jeon." He said with a straight face. "O-Oh hey Jimin." I said stuttering so I cleared my throat. Hey smirked then ordered a drink as well, a stronger drink than what I was having.

After a few drink I noticed I'm a light weight compare to Jimin, crap. On my 4th drink I started smelling the sweetest of bloods and I knew then that meant my mate was close by. Was it Jimin? Was he actually gay? I looked towards him but I noticed it couldn't be his blood.

"H-hey is anyone sitting here?" A small and nervous voice asked I turned around and that's when it hit me. He was my mate. A small petite man with light brown hair and big doe like eyes and very pink, big lips. I knew I was too long because his figure starting shifting in place. "Y-Yes, sorry you can sit." He sheepishly smiles and sits down by this time I realized Jimin was gone. "I didn't introduce myself, I'm Kim Taehyung." He said cheerfully. "My name is Jeon Jungkook." I responded taking a sip of my drink. "So I guess you can feel the pull?" He asked, I noticed his hands rolled into fists resting on his thighs and he nervously moved them back and forth.

"Yeah I do. I never thought I'd find my mate." I chuckled and he looked towards me nodding in agreement. "Me too." He confesses his blush reaching the tips of his ears. "Why don't we blow this boring party." I suggested. "But where would we go?" He asked shocked. "I have a place in mind." I smiled holding my hand out, he smiled back at me and grabbed my hand. I led him to my car and drove towards a waterfall. "This is where I go when I need space or clear my mind." "It's beautiful." He smiles going towards the edge to look how far it goes. I reach out and grab his hand pulling him into my chest. "Please be careful I don't want you to die." I state and he looked up at me blushing. He's beautiful brown eyes shimmering under the stars, I couldn't resist but lean over and kiss him. He responded and kissed me back wrapping his arms around my neck.

~End of flashback~

And that's how it all went down, I think about 2 months into our relationship I still had a think for Jimin but it slowly faded the more I started being with Taehyung, my beautiful doe eyed mate.

Nala's POV

After Hoseok and (y/n) graduated I started getting bullied a lot. This was the harsh reality I had to live but I meet Brittany who transfered all the way from England. She saved me from the bullies then they tried to bully her as well but they quickly realized Britt is not a bitch to be fucking with, she knew every kind of self defense moves out there and she was also a black belt.

I sat on the toliet seat hiding from my bullies. Today Britt was out sick and of course it's a Monday and the bitches that tortured me found out and they ganged up on me. Currently I had blood all over my face, a bruise was started to show on my check and arms. Silent tears rolled down my face mixing with the blood. "Brittany." I quietly cried but I shouldn't call her she's sick.

I decided to go home and skip the rest of school today, I couldn't deal with the pain and I didn't want anyone else to see me like this. I walked home on the long strip of road that lead to my neighborhood not too far from this hell hole called school. "Hey, do you need a ride?" I ignored the voice thinking it was one of those weird men wanting to have sex with young girls. "Nala, are you okay?" I recognized the voice immediately this time. "Mrs. Tran." I turned around seeing her in the passenger seat and her husband in the driver's seat. "What happened to your face?" She asked in shock getting out of the car. I felt tears pricking my eyes again as I hug her tightly and she began petting my head softly. "Come let's get her home and treated." Mr. Tran said opening the back door and letting me in as they both got into the car and drove to their house which was right across the street from my house. My mom wasn't home so they had to treat my wounds at their place.

"Would you like to explain to me what happened to your face?" Mrs. Tran asked as she gently cleaned my cut on my cheered. "Promise not to tell my mom?" She nods and I explained everything to her. "Awe sweetie I'm sorry you have to go through that." She said hugging me. "Well are you hungry I can make you something to eat." Mrs. Tran offered getting up. "That would be nice but I don't want to bother you anymore than I am not." I nervously rubbed my arm. "It's no trouble." She smiled warmly going into the kitchen to whip something up.

I waited patiently for my food and it was not long before she came back with a try filled with a croissant looking pastry. "It's a mini Apple pie. It may look like just a dessert but it fills you up surprisingly." She said reassuringly. "Thanks Mrs. Tran." I picked one up and took a bite, the crunchy but delicious taste of the Apple and the sweetness of the cinnamon. "Woah these are delicious." I ate two more. "Thank you. Im glad you like them." She grabbed one and ate it too.

We sat in comfortable silence when we heard a knock on the door. "I'll get it." Mr. Tran said as he opened the door grabbing the round handle. The door revealed my mother with a worried look. "Mom? How did you know I was here?" I asked standing up. "Ms. Foster said she saw you walking on the road with blood on your face." She explained hugging me. "Thank you Mr. And Mrs. Tran for taking care of her." My mother bowed in respect and we head out the door. I waved goodbye as my mom got into the car with me in the passenger seat.

A few days later I went back to school and went to my first period class and sat down at my desk when the rest of the class trickled in then the bell rang. "Hello class we have a new student to our school, please welcome Lee Taemin." The teacher introduced as a tall guy walks in. I've never seen someone so handsome, all the girls were drooling over him. He was a few inches short of 6 feet, with beautiful brown eyes and red streaks in his black hair. He was wearing his uniform tie loosely and looking like one of those bad boys mom and dad tells you to stay away from. I was so zoned out thinking about his looks that I realized what the teacher said. "There's an open seat next to (y/n)." He bows to the class and then walks towards me with long strides. "Hey sexy." Taemin smirks at me causing me to blush and cover my face with my bangs.

Around lunch time I sat alone at a small table eating my food quietly. Then I felt a sudden splash of water, my hair was drenched and water dripped from my face. I looked up and see the evil bitch who's been torturing me. "Really Ashley?!" I yelled. "What? I slipped, plus what are you going to do about it?" She asked smirking at me, I turned around and went back to eating. "I thought so." She snickered high fiving the other two girls with her. "Hey I suggest you leave her alone." A familiar voice said causing me to look towards the source. Lee Taemin. "Heyyy Taemin~" Ashley purred getting closer to him. "Get away from me skank." He almost growled at her causing her to get scared and step back. "Why are you standing up for her?!" She yelled pointing at my wet figure. "Because I don't find bullies attractive." He rolled his eyes as he said. "How dare you accuse me of that!" She was getting frustrated. "Get out of my sight." He demanded causing her and her posey to leave. "Hey you okay." He asked handing me a small hand towel. I nod my head. "Thank you, Lee Taemin." "Drop the formalities just call me Taemin." He said sitting next to me. "Arent you going to eat?" I noticed he did have food. "I already ate." He said staring at me.

From that day fort I had two protectors, Brittany and Lee Taemin.

------

Blackpink's story

"BLACKPINK!

Ah yeah, ay yeah!

BLACKPINK!

Ah yeah, ay yeah!"

On stage the girls perform their new single Ddu-du Ddu-du for their fans but things weren't always this great, they went through a big struggle to become idols.

-flashback-

"Hey Jennie we need to practice now." Rosé said the other two girls stretching and getting ready. "But I'm so tired just 10 minutes?" She asked. "No get up." Then Jisoo walks over. "Come on please Jennie, if we don't we'll never get the chance to debut." Jisoo whines trying aegyo on her. "But haven't we already debuted Unni? We have a buyable CD on iTunes." Jennie grumbles folding her arms together. "Jenny if you don't want to put in the work then you should leave." Lisa said angry. "Fine." Jennie got up and started stretching and they practice their dance for their upcoming new album square up.

-end flashback-

Every day they had our ups and downs, they shared tears, laughter, happiness and sadness but they made it together as a family.

At the end of the concert they all hugged in a circle as a silent tears rolled down their cheeks. They turned to the crowd and bowed, waving at the fans. "Thank you everyone so much for your support without you guys none of this would be possible." The crowd erupted into a loud scream as Lisa spoke. Finally they quiet down when suddenly they heard. "I LOVE YOU!" From a particularly loud fan causing them to smile and send finger hearts to everyone. "We love you too." Jennie smiled realizing how important it is for her to work in this group.

It was around this time that everything was aligned with each other. Jungkook's secret crush on Jimin, Nala being bullied then rescued by Taemin who she doesn't yet is a vampire, Jungkook finding the love of his life and finally Blackpink's struggle and success.

(This chapter again has nothing to do with the 3 main characters but it's a little back story on the supporting cast)

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3 Chapter4 Chapter5 Chapter6 Chapter8 Chapter9

#h4bnetwork #jhope #jimin #jin #jungkook #rm #suga #vampire #bts #fantasy #werewolf #kim taehyung #jeon jungguk #park jimin #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #jeon hoseok #min yoongi

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nohhh · 6 years

Text

Classified Mission: Eastern Europe Romanogers fanfic

GENRE: SMUT... NOT YET

WORD COUNT: 1722

AUTHOR’S NOTE: One scene in this is quite graphic so watch out for that.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5

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

Steve covered himself and Natasha with his shield. Sam and Bucking were crouching under Sam’s wings. Which he had conjured out of nowhere, helpful. Bucky was shouting an impressive string of curses in Romanian. Natasha shouted some back at him. Bucky and Sam then stood up and Bucky ran to the ditch firing at the motorcycle retreating down the road. He got a steady hit on the wheel, sending the motorcycle to go over into the ditch. Steve and Natasha looked at the car which was a burning shell.

“Well, there goes our packing.” Steve observed.

In response Natasha help up a gear bag.

“Not yet.”

Steve smiled at Natasha. She returned the smile.

“You always think of everything.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

Sam and Bucky called back at them.

“Come on! I think they’re dead! Tasha can you check!”

The soldier and assassin made their way to the motorcycle where the pair had been. Momentum had caused them to end up in the ditch. Natasha went over and checked for pulses.

“Nothing, they’re dead as dead can be. Check the bike, there might be something.”

Steve started rooting through the bike, retrieving a thick wad of cash and a letter. Bucky jogged over to Steve and Sam helped Natasha get a phone and wallet out of the pockets.

“Get anything?” Bucky asked.

“Cash and a letter.”

“Keep the letter, we’ll check it out at the hotel. Leave the cash.”

“Good idea. How’s Sam and you been in Europe?”

“Scheming little bitch, that Sam. We have a flat rented out courtesy of SHIELD. I work as a gym instructor, which happened by accident and Sam has a female only hairdressers. I have to give him nightly Czech lessons. It’s good to gather Intel.”

“How does one become a gym instructor by accident?” Steve laughed

“Well, I went there every day and couldn’t get work anywhere else. Apparently metal arms are scary to kindergarten kids, so I couldn’t work in a shop or kindergarten. They are scared like hell, kids don’t find anything scary it’s the fucking parents. But anyway, I was at the gym one night and this lady instructor called Yale comes up to me and says in a freaking Israeli accent, ‘don’t you have a job anywhere? All you do is work out here.’ So I tell her my Tragic Story™ and she offers me a job, cause she owns the place. Sam and I had to wrangle with both our bosses for two weeks off, apparently our dear best friend since kidhood is terribly ill and may die soon. Yale told me to suck it up and keep working, people die all the time. The bird idiot hears marches in and shouts at her ‘HEY LADY OUR BFF IS DYING SOON GIVE HIM SOME FUCKING TIME OFF YOU BITCH’ The best part is that she doesn’t even flinch. She tells him if one of us can beat her in a spar she’ll give me the time off. Bighead over there goes first and she wipes the fucking floor with him. I go in next and I hate to admit I had to resort to using my left arm to beat the strong bitch.”

“Language, Bucky.” Steve said wiping away tears of laughter.

Sam, apparently, told Nat his side of this story and she was shaking with laughter when they went over to join Bucky and Steve.

“We found cash, passports and phones.”

Bucky stepped in.

“Leave the cash and passport, bring the phone.”

“Alright.”

“We better start walking, it’s a long way to the hotel.” Sam chimed in. The three other looked at him and nodded. Sam and Steve walked together talking, Bucky stayed back to talk to Natasha.

“How is it? Life there?” Natasha asked him.

“Peaceful, if you don’t count bird boy over there. If you do; fucking stressful.”

“The hotel is the reediest, cheapest, dirtiest shithole SHIELD could find, isn’t it.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Sam turned back and muttered something to Bucky, Steve and Natasha looked inquisitively at each other and at Sam and Bucky.

“What’s that about?” Steve asked Natasha

“Not a clue.”

“Where’s the hotel?”

“Up the seediest back alley SHIELD could find, probably.”

Steve nodded in agreement.

“Hey Sam, where’s this hotel?”

“Am, it should be up the alley that says, zadní ulička č. 3.”

“You’re Czech is coming on well.” Bucky observed.

The four had left the fields behind and were now walking on paved paths. Steve and Natasha were looking at every sign, checking for zadní ulička č. 3. Sam and Bucky started arguing about the name of the hotel.

“Found it!” The soldier was triumphant.

“Steve that says přední ulička č. 3. Go down it and to your left you should see a sign saying zadní ulička č. 3.” Bucky corrected.

The soldier’s cheek reddened slightly. The four were dressed incognito mode. Leather jackets and jeans. Natasha went down the alley first, where a dirty man tried to grab her.

Tried.

Natasha caught his arm and twisted it behind his back. He spat back in her face

“Ďábelská fena”

She broke his arm, the pain caused him to black out. Sam, Bucky and Steve stepped over the rumpled man. Sam inhaled sharply.

“What?” Steve asked.

“She’s strong. I’ve been trying to ignore him for nearly a month on my way to work. I wouldn’t get into a fight with him.” Sam responded.

“You should have seen what she did to the alien thing we had to fight the other day.” Steve stated

“SHIELD told us about that actually.”

“Fucking terrifying.” Bucky chimed in.

Natasha looked at them.

“I can hear you. Also we’re here.”

A neon sign saying hotel was blazing from the window.

Sam got a receipt out of his pocket, examining it he walked into the lobby.

Natasha was right; it was the seediest, dirtiest hotel SHIELD could find.

Bucky and Sam went up to the attendant and talked to her in Czech.

The woman asked

“Zbraně?”

Natasha addressed the woman directly in perfect Czech

“Ne, nepotřebujeme zbraně, Maria. Děláš.”

Maria went pale.

“I cannot call the police Ms. Romanova, you know that.” Perfect English.

“Clever Maria, hiding your bilingual manner. But I can assure you the gun under the counter will come in useful by this evening. Remember that.”

Maria nodded. Steve wanted to hit himself, he hadn’t even noticed the gun under the counter. She handed two room passes to Sam.

“V nejvyšším patře jsou pokoje 73 a 75. 75 je pohled na ulici.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Natalia Alianova Romanova, beware, there are people here that beat men like your friends to death. You’ll be safe, your friends not so much.” Natasha nodded and started up the stairs.

The three others were frightened by Maria’s statement and Natasha’s nod. They waited until they were at the floor outside their rooms.

“Nat, what the hell?” Bucky asked.

“Maria knew me from my assassin spy days. Good friend. She is right, the three of you are not safe. I am because of my notorious reputation.” “Natasha, I have a metal arm.”

“That would get a good bit in scrap metal sales.”

“Nat, I have super-soldier blood in my veins.”

“Steve, they would kill you with as many stab wounds as possible and pour your blood into jars to be sold as drugs.”

“Tasha, I have nothing.”

“Sam, your wings are worth their weight in gold.”

“Jesus fucking Christ Nat, what are these people like?”

“A mix of Rumlow and me.”

The three went pale.

Sam handed Steve a key for their room. He opened it and Bucky did the same across the hall. Natasha looked at them.

“You have one hour.”

They went into their respective rooms. A double shout was heard across the room.

“FUCK!”

Natasha and Steve smiled, even in dire moments Sam and Bucky lightened the mood. They turned into their own room, where there was a distinct lack of furniture; a very small double bed and bathroom with a rail for hanging clothes.

Steve looked at Natasha.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, you won’t, there is no heating. It’s cold enough in the bed, you will actually die if you sleep on the floor.” “Wouldn’t you feel uncomfortable-“

“No, would you?”

“No.” Steve had to admire her audacity and boldness. She didn’t care that they had to share the same bed for three days. Natasha opened the gear bag getting out toiletries and one spare change of clothes.

There was other stuff in the bag but it was unnecessary.

“Do you want to freshen up or anything? We have incognito work to do. Sam and Bucky have to do some ‘neighbourhood scouting’”

“Yeah I will, do we need to change our clothes?”

The pair were currently wearing ‘semi’ uniform. Tight clothes. No denim and boots.

Steve and Natasha went into the bathroom. They had forgotten toothbrushes so the just used their fingers.

“We probably shouldn’t, this is fairly incognito.”

Steve nodded. They both knew where they were going. Straight to the seedy computer café on the corner.

Steve turned to face Natasha

“Should we have a cover? If anyone asks us anything?”

Natasha thought for a minute.

“What did we do in DC?”

“Well, am, you told me to kiss you and that was a distraction.” Steve’s cheeks went pink. He was obviously thinking about the kiss. Natasha grinned.

“Come on soldier, I think Bucky and Steve are after murdering one another.”

They went across the hall and knocked on the door.

Sam opened the door.

“THERE IS ONE BED AND THE FLOOR IS COLDER THAN THE FUCKING ARTIC!” Sam shook his head.

“Welcome to a freezing version of hell. Bucky is reaching peak volume levels, is there a volume button on him?”

Natasha and Steve laughed.

“Are you ready for neighbourhood scouting?”

“Yes.”

“Be careful boys. Steve is safe with me.”

“I bet he is.”

Bucky and Sam locked the door after him and Steve checked the lock of his and Nat’s door. They began the steep descent down the stairs.

Natasha turned rigid once they reached the lobby.

Steve, Sam and Bucky saw her face.

Hell would be a sauna compared to the red hot fury on her face.

“Steve, we’ve got some work to do.”

#natasha romanoff #steve rogers #steve x natasha #romanogers #fanfic

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