#kyr reaction

[djarinsbeskar]

Can you give us a little glimpse into how Din will deal with an ex lover of Kitten?

The air was choked with testosterone, dominance and your growing desire to bang their heads together.

They were still sizing each other up after Din's less than appropriate reaction to the rhaer's welcome.

You probably should've refused Kyr's affection when he approached you. It had been so long since you last saw him, however, that nostalgia stalled you long enough for him to cup your cheek to kiss the other.

"Welcome home, love. How I've missed you..."

You hardly had a chance to respond, when an armored hand shot between the two of you, shoving the stag away before the wall of Din's back filled your vision.

The golden hue of Kyr's eyes darkened with competitiveness, a wry smirk playing on his lips. Din bristled, your hand wrapping around his vambrace instinctively to stop him from possibly causing an intergalatic rift between Mandalorians and Pamarthens.

"You always did bring a storm with you, little fawn." Kyr's laugh was husky when he took a seat to pour three shots of Port in a Storm. "Seems like this time, you brought the armies of Llyrian himself to my door."

#stitches!q&a #au technically #but this is one of the many ways their meeting could go #kyr IS a catch after all

[lesbian-ashe]

So I'm one episode 390 (GETTING CLOSE TO CAUGHT UP!)

So in the meantime! MATH 2 AND BREAD! I'm loving these new abilities and the dumb jokes being made with them! They're just fun and interesting power ups that feel natural.

Gregor being the simple martial to the point his martial prowess sees and destroys magic is so fun.

Harlock and math 2 is really nice considering we already had kyr for insane and weird gadgets. However Math 2 is completely unique to them.

Powers and abilities aside. Markus' Cardboard dad is one of my new favorite characters. A master of poker, will of cardboard, and beautiful mustache. The fact they've been carrying them entire time is just hilarious. Meeting him in person now and seeing him (even if it's limited so far) has been great.

I'm enjoying Mia and glad the group has befriended, they'll fall under the never leaving curse, person. I pray they don't go M.I.A.

I've however been completely avoiding Mercy! Mom of the team/army/her own goobers. She's absolutely lovely. Her family is absolutely lovely. Her army is absolutely lovely. She's just lovely and wonderful. I pray she may get a bubble bath by the end of this. Her being an outsider to the group really brings a new focus and dynamic on the characters.

Lastly. Jambalaya is a wonderful Imp bodyguard.

God so much has happened, but i feel like there's still so much remaining to this story. The tower, the celestial silver, and aasimar transmutation. HOLY HELL!

HELL YEAH MY DUDE there's SO many cool mechanics and abilities and themes going around in this arc, it's super cool! and the CHARACTERS AND CHARACTER INTERACTIONS ARE GREAT, Markus' fucking complex with that cardboard cutout is so funny and I was SUPER MAD ABOUT IT AT FIRST but I'm glad we got it, it's been great Mercy is SO GOOD I could gush about her for hours, I want the ABSOLUTE BEST FOR HER. a new favorite character for sure! I'm also getting Jambalaya a World's Best Imp mug SO GLAD YOU'RE ENJOYING THE NEWEST ADVENTURE your enthusiasm and reactions are fun to see! I LOVE seeing people be (almost) as ardent about TI as I am, I NEED it to have a fandom again 😭

#asks #jhart28

[luntica]

I process best when I write it out, so here was my trip to Paradise Valley Hospital.

It was like 3 am by the time we were seen into the er, the waiting room was nice enough, if very prison like. No fault of the people there I'm sure.

But the actual back was small, crowded, odviously under funded, odviously doing the best they can. The rooms were fitted with doors made of fire board of some sort, tape and plastic, held closed by velcro strip. A couple blood drops on the floor, Quentin unable to ignore it, kyr helping keep us calm as our eye's are checking everything. The sink didn't work, storage stuff filled the space, bed old and fitted with a sheet barely hanging on to it. They almost didn't let kyr in with me, but kyr is a much my care taker as partner these days and the guy was to tired to argue.

When we got seen, the nurses worked as quickly and well as they could, no complaint. Told them "rat bite but it's an allergic reaction" they awed at the bite and went about their jobs. One doc came in, we told him the same he left, another came in told him the same, he left. The lab guy came, took 3 weird bottles, and like 5 other vials, normal I think, since you know it could be anything, but they'll try allergy treatment first, it's just in case. A new drop was added to the floor, Quentin locks front and leaves.

eventually got given tylenol and a proxac or something. I wasn't really given a chance to process the different meds here named off to give me for my anxiety. (Melt downs and panic attacks but the unfortunate fawn way that I do, aka crying silently and waiting for numbness to take over) eventually I was given a room upstairs, wheeled in. Blankets, pillow and the gown. After the doctor who ripped one off me before, I preferred to stay in my clothing.

Not long until someone comes and puts the iv in. Confusion if it happened in the er or in the room. Small, sink by the door, folded wall thing keeping another room separate. Tolet in the back, window next to that. The hospital bed sits slightly off a wall because weird shelves are in the way of it being snug on the wall.

There I was occasionally visited by nurses who check the bag, my vitals, or add another bag. Kyr would only leave once I was asleep when they visited because we know I would full meltdown if they didn't.

I'd wake, try to stay calm, panic, cry, sleep. Occasionally during this cycle a nurse would come. I would explain I needed allergy and mental health care. They would say they told the doctor. They would leave. The cycle continued.

They said the doc visited twice, I only remember seeing her once, where she said she met me. I don't remember her, but I can't say she's lying. I have DID and trauma amnesia. I was freaking out, that's trauma, thus memory block.

Every time we tried to eat my thoughts filled with thoughts that it was poison. I knew the food wasn't poisoned, but I couldn't argue that the doctor wasn't blatantly ignoring me and was putting an oddly large amount of antibiotics into me.

I took pictures of the iv bags and sent it to kyr, and when they visited they asked the nurses directly. 3 different types of antibacterial. They were also giving me the normal fluids and one for my lack of eating. (Almost like I didn't have an appetite)

My mouth still has a slight taste to it that makes me feel so wrong.

Im pretty sure my whole microbiome in my body is dead.

My alters with trauma from isolation punishments were hugging scout like they would die if they didn't. Begging to not be in a place like that again.

Why was I and what was legally my caretaker at the time ignored?

Is it cause I disclosed I use weed? In California I think not.

Is it im trans? Or autistic? Or do they just treat everyone like that?

All I know is, we watched brave and cried and are doing everything to not let this fester.

My hand reduced in swelling, at about the rate as if I had never come in. I have those welts from the medical tape that seems to be common among eds sufferers. And two iv holes that hurt more to have in than the swollen hand.

/God bless America/ am I right?

#tw medical

[nbaoracle]

#reaction #sports #nba #basketball #yes #celebration #jumping #lets go #expression #player court #kyr

[mechazilla94]

Kyr'ram let out groan as the electricity finally stopped flowing through his body. His chest heaved as he tried to breathe and focus on anything except the pain.

The interrogator looked over to his boss on the other side of a two way mirror and shook his head, before moving onto knives and fire.

"Perhaps I can make a suggestion?" Ren said as he stepped into the room, looking over at the leader unseen by the interrogator or his brother. "Kyr'ram isn't immune to physical torture, but he won't break easily. However, he does have a weakness that we can exploit. Experiment G-110398. Kyr never fully killed his emotions. They were intimately involved." he spat in disgust, handing over a file.

The leader looked at the file, "This says here that the experiment was terminated. Why hand me a useless file?" he asked.

Ren chuckled, "Watch." he pressed a button to communicate with the speakers in the interrogation chamber. "Hello, little brother." he paused as Kyr chuckled before spitting at the ground defiantly. "Is that any way to treat your big brother after all this time?" he asked.

"Go fuck yourself, Ren. I'm not telling you anything." he hissed, growling as the interrogation continued with them strategically cutting his wings to shreds.

"Perhaps you'll talk to my pet. He tends to enjoy playing with his food. Enter Experiment G-110398." Ren chuckled as his brother went pale as the interrogator left. Another man entered, black hair and pale skin with blue eyes, a reptilian tail gliding behind him.

Kyr couldn't hide the reaction on his face even if he tried. Shock. Pain. Denial. All shown clear as day. "Goji." he choked. "Goji, help me, please." he asked.

Goji growled and reached for Kyr's face, cupping his face before viciously digging his claws into Kyr's chest causing the bound man to scream in pain, before Goji proceeded to lick his husband's blood from his claws.

Kyr watched Goji be uncharacteristically sadistic, "What did they do to you?" he asked. "It's me, Goji! It's Kyr! Don't let Ren in your head!" he pleaded, flinching slightly as Goji made eye contact, leaning in close before sinking his fangs into Kyr's shoulder, savoring Kyr's screams as he drank.

@sonofirishseas

#kyr #kyr'ram #vampire #vampire kyr #new thread

[libraryofsports]

#reaction #sports #nba #basketball #yes #celebration #jumping #lets go #expression #player court #kyr

[crackimagines]

Hope's Peak learns that Novoselic threatens to proclaim war on Japan because of rumors some disgusting incident between Sonia and Teruteru. What everyone's reactions?

Can’t exactly say I’m surprised that Teruteru would cause a national incident.

Thanks for the ask anon, I hope you enjoy!

(Secretary) “We got a message-”

(Headmaster) “Yoink.”

Once he grabbed the paper printed out, he read it aloud.

(Headmaster) “We are the nation of Novoselic, your vile countrymen has attacked our princess and your nation will pay the price…Prepare to die? The shit is this?”

(Secretary) “How should I know? It’s on an open channel.”

(Headmaster) “This is just radio spam, only transmit important messages form now on!-…Did that paper say Novoselic?”

(Both) … “OH FUCK-”

Earlier that day…

“Hm…Something about this sauce doesn’t seem right…Hey, Sonia!”

“Do you require something?”

“Can you put this into your mouth? I need to know how it tastes.”

Sonia shrugged and grabbed the ladle and took a small sip out of it.

“It’s…quite salty. I haven’t put something this peculiar in my mouth before! I’m not sure I like it.”

“Hmph, that’s what I thought. Freakin cheap ass Junes spice. Well, thanks Sonia!”

Sonia walked out the door after bowing and went towards her class…Ignoring her classmate standing outside.

“…WHAT THE HELL.”

Location: Novoselic

“Milord, we have a report from your daughter in Japan!”

(King) “What is it?”

(Courier) “You won’t like what you hear, sir.”

(King) “Courier, information never displeases me. It’s ignorance which I find displeasing…”

(Courier) “Here is the note of the situation.”

(King) “Let me see…”

“…”

(King) “FETCH THE ROYAL ARMY! WE GO TO WAR!”

“WE MARCH FOR MACRAGGE-I MEAN FOR NOVOSELIC!”

Hope’s Peak

(Newswoman) “This is Mariko, reporting live at the scene. Right now the nation of Novoselic has declared war on the nation of Japan. I have a woman from the army marching to the boats right now for her thoughts. Excuse me ma’am, may I ask for your thoughts on the matter?”

(Soldier) “VI KELIR KYR-AMUR GAR AN!”

(Mariko) “Thank you for your thoughts. This is Mariko of Weazel News, signi-”

BLAM!

(Mariko) “OH GOD THE BACK OF MY FRONT-”

The TV suddenly went to static, leaving everyone in the school baffled.

Class 78

(Makoto) “…What?”

(Sayaka) “WE’RE GOING TO WAR?!”

(Aoi) “This is horrible!”

(Sakura) “Why would they declare war on us?”

(Chihiro) “A-Actually, what even is the nation of Novoselic?”

(Mondo) “Yeah, never heard of that place till now…”

(Kyoko) “I believe the Ultimate Princess is from there.”

(Hagakure) “I-I wonder what antagonized them…”

(Everyone) “…”

(Celeste) “It was you, wasn’t it?”

(Hagakure) “Possibly.”

Everyone face palmed while Mondo slowly turned, grabbing his baseball bat from his backpack.

Class 77-B

(Sonia) “W-WHAT?! WHAT IS MY FATHER DOING?!”

(Teruteru) “Y-Ya gotta call them! This must be a misunderstanding!”

(Chiaki) “What could’ve caused a diplomatic incident?!”

(Nekomaru) “Who the hell knows?! We gotta start barring up the school!”

(Fuyuhiko) “PEKO, DEFENSE MODE!”

(Mahiru) “Peko isn’t some kind of machine, Fuy-”

(Peko) “UNDERSTOOD MASTER! DEFENDING THE CLASS!”

(Ibuki) “Oooh, Ibuki didn’t know Peko had a defense mode!”

(Sonia) “This will not go well…”

#sdr2 #dr2 #danganronpa 2 #dr1 #danganronpa imagines #shitpost #sonia nevermind #teruteru hanamura #Chiaki Nanami #nekomaru nidai #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #Mahiru Koizumi #ibuki mioda #Peko Pekoyama #yasuhiro hagakure #celestia ludenberg #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigri #mondo oowada #chihiro fujisaki #sakura oogami #aoi asahina #sayaka maizono

[mathes0n]

so i finally caught up to thrilling intent, halloween episodes included, and i Have Some Thoughts:

- THOGS COSTUMES???HELLO????

- kyr dressing up as thog and gregor dressing up as harlock was some real incredible Cute Shit

- “is this finally the part where i make markus kiss kyr” HELLO?????????

- i missed kyr and colvin so much and i love how everyones immediate reaction to seeing colvin again was fucking ROBBING HIM i guess???

- thogs greatest fear being intimacy. thogs Thank Yous to being called cute. thog. thog in general

- BATTYS FACE HELLO???????

#ANYWAYS IM ALL CAUGHT UP AN D READY TO DIE

[mythlived]

“i’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound, i’ll be okay.” (aulisdeer)

    (  ♛  )  —  The call he had gotten from the hospital was one he hadn’t been expecting in the slightest, but not one that necessarily surprised him. Iphi had such a penchant for getting herself hurt that he hadn’t even batted an eye at the news of her broken ankle. He was worried, of course, but then he had also gotten used to being so worried about her. Which, thinking about it, was probably not a good thing to get used to. But between her tendency to practice late on her own or call him and say cryptic things, it was just something that had fitted itself into his life without him realizing it.  (  Could  “  worrying about Iphi  ”  be considered a personality trait  ?  )  Ultimately, it was his norm. But still, after getting the call from Iphi, he had chosen to skip his next couple of classes. They were both lecture, so he could watch them online later and copy down the notes, so it wouldn’t be a terribly big deal. He would have to remember to email his professors later, though. 

Getting to the hospital itself also hadn’t taken very long. His sense of urgency was there, but it wasn’t anything overbearing. At least, not until he actually stepped in and went to the floor Iphi had mentioned. She hadn’t known if she would be moved, though, so she’d told him just to ask the nurse’s desk when he arrived. It was the way the nurse behind the desk looked at him that ramped his urgency—anxiety too, if he were being entirely honest with himself—up several notches. It was strange, he supposed, that she’d been admitted to the hospital just because of a broken ankle. However, he had just assumed something like a snapped Achilles tendon or that she’d needed a screw put into the bone. His assumption had been that she would need surgery of some sort, but the look the nurse had given him, the tone they offered the number of the room in, the way they smiled… There was something worse going on. What, he didn’t know, but it was certainly enough to make him search for her room a little less leisurely than he had traveled to the hospital. 

It was the exact opposite of hospital etiquette, but he didn’t bother pausing to knock upon finding the room the nurse had given him. Rather, he simply pushed the door open and made his way in. He needed to know what had warranted looks of sympathy. She had called him herself, so it couldn’t be anything life-threatening. Or could it  ?  The pallor of her face suggested otherwise. The pain that flashed across her face when she sat up to wave at him, to say hello. The way she moved to lay back down, as if she hadn’t expected the discomfort of sudden movement. Whatever had happened, it was much worse than what she’d let on. What a nasty surprise. 

Shutting the door and moving toward her quietly was the only thing he could make himself do, movements mechanical, steps measured carefully. He didn’t want to approach her too quickly; wanted to assess the damage before he really got there, but there were no obvious injuries visible to him in that moment. So why was she here  ?  Why, when he got closer, was there a light sheen of sweat on her skin when the room was chilled  ?  Why, when he chose to speak, did his voice crack and shake  ?  ❝  Iphi, what happened  ?  ❞  He didn’t mean to sound so forlorn, but he couldn’t understand what he was looking at. Her ankle. No, this was most certainly not because of her ankle. Then what…  ?

He hadn’t been expecting her call between classes, but he hadn’t been surprised by her broken ankle. What he was surprised by—or, no, what he was absolutely horrified by—was her answer.  “  Oh, I had dinner last night. And then I did some magic tricks, and I went downstairs to get some fruit, and then I got shot by my father’s mistress, but I’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound, I’ll be okay.   ”  She tacked on the last bit sarcastically, the words so morbid they almost made Patroclus nauseous. 

Staring was, perhaps, not the most appropriate reaction to her confession. Oh how horrible he was with confessions; whether it be ones of love or ones that brought to light the unfairness of premature mortality.  (  He fumbled so incredibly only when it seemed to matter the most.  )  The bullet, she said, was lodged in a place that they couldn’t fix with one hundred percent certain. She’d been allowed to choose whether they left it, in which she would bleed out slowly, but be allowed to offer her final goodbyes or she could opt into surgery with a particularly low success rate. 

It was then that he realized he should say something rather than gaping at her, wide-eyed and terrified, but he was reduced, in that moment, to a twelve-year-old child that had been able to do nothing but watch as a bullet stole the life from someone else he’d cared for just as deeply. He was reduced to a young man that had followed his lover to war and forced to watch a teenage girl have her life ripped away from her on an altar for the victory of the Achaeans. In that moment, he was made to understand, yet again, that the Fates were the cruelest old crones the universe had ever chosen to give power to. Speaking seemed impossible. What could he say  ?  There was nothing that he could offer her to make any of this better. The only thing he could give her was his company, his time. But was that enough  ?  There was never enough time, no matter who tried to give it. That Iphi was so privy to that fact… he hated them; the gods, the Fates, her father, his mistress, her mother. He loathed each and every one of them. Not that he would ever make that known to her. Not now. Not when it would be a waste of her time. It was a line of conversation that burned the back of his throat, but one best saved for later, for when her breaths weren’t limited and her minutes weren’t ticking by faster than he could keep up. 

❝  A lot can happen in a few hours.  ❞  He offered those words as hopefully as he could manage as he sat heavily in the chair beside her bed. Given the circumstances, he was surprised they’d come out so strong. As if he believed them and she should too. Unfortunately, he was certain they both knew the likelihood of them. They were simply pretty words. A requirement for hopeless situations in which all parties involved had only denial and false hope. When everyone chose to entertain the sweet pipe dream over their own rotting reality.  ❝  But do you want me to call anyone else  ?  ❞

The chill of the room turned into something bone-deep when the question prompted tears and her belief that it would be selfish to call the others. Her concern that they were busy and had other things to do was something that pained Patroclus as well. It was an idea that he discouraged immediately upon hearing it. None of them would mind. She was certainly not selfish if she wanted them there. After all, who wouldn’t want to see their loved ones one last time  ?  But no, he wouldn’t contact them if she didn’t want him to. It was up to her. This was her time and she got to choose what was done with it. 

It was her haunting sobs that knocked the air clean from his lungs. It was her words that left him suffocating,  “  I miss everyone already,  ”  “  I don’t want to leave,  ”  “  I shouldn’t have called you, I’m sorry.  “  He worried that her wounds would only get worse if she kept this up, but what could he say to her  ?  You’ll only make it worse  ?  He absolutely would not say something like that. 

White hot tears traced their way down his cheeks and suddenly he matched the girl across from him. He’d been trying to keep his tears caged, to keep them from making themselves known to Iphi. He didn’t sob, because what purpose would that serve  ?  He tried to assure her, over and over, that they were likely to see one another again, that she absolutely should have called him and he was glad she had. He tried to ease any worry she brought to the table, but he didn’t think that there was ever really any consolation for the dying. 

It was when she gave him the okay to contact Pyrrha, Kyr, and Caesar that he stepped out.  ❝  I’ll just be a few minutes,  ❞  he assured her.  (  But really, was even just a few minutes far too long  ?  )  

He sent the same general text to all three,  ’  Hey, Iphi’s in the hospital and I’m here with her, can you head our way now or as soon as possible  ?  ’  Gods, he hoped that would be enough for them to come sooner rather than later.  (  But then, he wasn’t even sure if Caesar was in the States right now. He hoped he was, by some miracle.  )  He had entertained the thought of calling them for as long as it had taken him to step out of her room, but he didn’t want them rushing and putting themselves in harms way. Iphi didn’t either, and so he’d decided on no specifics, but the appropriate urgency. 

For now, he would just wait to see if any of them replied. He could wait in the hallway for a couple more minutes before going back in. 

With that thought, he slid down the wall into a crouch, hands over his face. He tried to pull in a couple of deep, steadying breaths, but they were shaky at best. Why was it always her that this happened to  ?  She wasn’t gone yet, but he couldn’t keep himself from wondering. And with that one question, dozens more began to bang around in his head. His brain was like a cabinet that had been stuffed full of too many pots and pans. The minute it was opened, everything came crashing down. How long until they would see her again  ?  Would she remember them  ?  Would they remember her  ?  Was there truly nothing that could be done for her here and now  ?  

He realized all at once that the nurses hadn’t been offering looks of simple sympathy. Oh no. They had been giving him looks of condolence. 

@aulisdeer

#aulisdeer #♛ ( therapon ) ━ answered. #❁ ( iphi ) ━ magic amongst mischief. #i think this is the longest ask reply i've ever written #and i just need you to know #that i am Hurt #death // #gun mention // #sort of #also it is a /little/ bit different than what we plotted but i did have to stick the ask in there somehow!

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

The One Good Reason | Pt. 3 (finale)

Requests are OPEN

[x] - requested by anonymous

Pairing: Bucky x Original Female Character

Word Count: 11,223 (way too many)

Warnings: yelling, protective!Tony, angst, the most angst, fluff, and a lot of love.

Tagged: @j-j-ehlby-writes

A/N: I am so excited (and also really depressed) that this is done. It’s been one of my favorite things to work on. Please, show this work some love. I did my best to make these characters true to their on-screen counterparts as well as making them unique to this story as well. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. -Ellie

The soldier’s steady breathing kept the nightmares away while Emma slept. It didn’t take long for the gunshots to wake the soldier. He was familiar with the sound. Hearing the gunshots was just as natural for him as hearing his own heartbeat. Emma had found the soldier’s heartbeat a lullaby in itself, and when its pace quickened at the sound of shots, so did hers. Even as she slept, the soldier stared up at the ceiling, running through the various scenarios, and only one scenario concluded with a happy ending. The soldier knew nothing of happy endings, though, so this would be a first. Emma woke as his fingers danced across her cheek, pushing her hair from her face. As soon as she heard the gunfire, her eyes widened, and she shot up in the bed, pain radiating through her body where she had been beaten the day before.

Her worried brown eyes darted over to the soldier who seemed to know exactly what they had woken up to. She wanted-more than anything-to wake up with him to a peaceful day and escape Hydra together, but that was more like a fairytale than a possible scenario. She wasn’t naive enough to believe that things would turn out well for both of them, and she was willing to sacrifice everything to make sure they ended well for the nameless soldier, “what’s going on?” she asked, frantically.

“Your people are here for you,” the soldier answered, standing up from the bed, “I have to get you to safety. Kyr will be looking for you to use you as leverage against your father. We need to leave,” he explained, holding out his hand for her to take. Emma took it, standing up from the bed.

While she gained her balance, the soldier suited up for what was about to come. She was aware that it could be a bloodbath, that her people would show no mercy until they got her back. The one thing she didn’t want was for the soldier to get caught in the crossfire. Her people would see him as an enemy, and the other Hydra operatives would see him as a traitor for protecting her. As the soldier reached out for his gun, Emma’s hand intercepted his. She didn’t like the look in his eyes. He was willing to do anything and everything to protect her. He showed so much conviction in a single glance. He was ready to kill everyone just to save her. The look frightened Emma, and as she stepped between him and the rifle, his gaze softened to the same intense passion from the previous night.

Emma’s lips twisted up into a genuine and beautiful smile, the warmth of which radiated through the entire room. She reached out for both of his hands and grasped them tightly. She tried desperately to blink away the tears in her eyes, not wanting to think of the sacrifices he would try to make for her. Sensing her fear, the soldier pulled her slender body into his strong arms, holding her against his chest. She buried her face into his strong chest, melting in his arms. She was sure that if her knees gave out, she wouldn’t move an inch, not with him holding her the way he was. His metal arm was locked around her waist while his human hand cradled her head against him.

After breathing in the familiar scent of him, she felt her heartbeat slow down, the anxiety about the upcoming situation dying away. She gazed up into those blue eyes, the color of the summer sky. His hand cupped her cheek, and he offered her a reassuring smile, sensing her fear. He was just as desperate to explore their connection as she was, but he was just as unsure of how to go about it as she was. She could sense the conflict in him, almost as if he had never experienced any human contact in his life. Without hesitation or warning, the soldier pressed his forehead against hers, their noses brushing against each others. Emma couldn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering around in her stomach, “you never told me your name,” she murmured.

“Bucky,” the soldier answered, a look of pride clear in his eyes.

Emma smiled, the name sounding familiar to her heart, like she knew him from the beginning of time. It was why she was so drawn to him in the first place, why he didn’t scare her the way others had. She recognized his soul. She pulled her forehead away from his, tilting her head to meet his eyes. She bit her bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that tugged at her lips whenever she looked at him, “well, Bucky...don’t do anything too reckless out there. We’re gonna make it out of this together or not at all,” she insisted.

She could feel Bucky’s body tensing up beneath her touch. His metal arm tightened around her as his breath quickened. He was...anxious. She sensed it right away and reached up to brush the stray strands of dark hair from his face, her fingers brushing against his skin as light as a summer breeze. Bucky sighed, “if anything happens to me, you run and don’t look back. Understand?”

Her full brows furrowed as her eyes flickered across every inch of his face, desperately trying to find a hint of insincerity in his words. She hoped that he was just joking-something her father did to lighten the mood in some of the most serious situations. She could find no indication that Bucky was anything but absolutely and completely serious, and she felt her heart sink, like someone tied her feet to a cement block and threw her into the ocean. It felt like she couldn’t breathe. She shook her head, suddenly angry with him for even putting the doubt in her mind. She pushed herself away from him and out of his warm embrace even as he tried to hold her close, “no! I’m not leaving here without you. We leave together, or we don't leave at all!” she dictated again, a fire in her brown eyes.

“You have no idea what we’re up against. I do,” he stated, trying to level with her. Emma knew that he was just trying to get her to understand his reasoning, but she was far beyond reason at that point. She didn’t want to hear him justifying what he said because she refused to believe that she would have to watch him die. If it came to that, she was prepared to die by his side, but she wouldn’t leave him. He continued his explanation when he saw that she was refusing to listen to reason. She saw that he didn’t want to be brutally honest with her, but he couldn’t make her understand any other way. He stepped closer to her, his gaze softening to make up for his harsh words, “I don't plan on making it out of this alive, Emma.”

“Well, you better change your plans because I'll die trying to get you out of here. You're not staying here. I won't let you. I won't let you die either. I can't,” she ranted, the anger within her only growing with each word. Her chest rose and fell almost as fast as her rapid heartbeat. Hot tears stung her eyes as she watched him take a breath to argue his point once more. She stepped closer to him, narrowing her eyes as a burning passion filled her chest, “for you to ask that of me, to just leave you behind, is selfish and...and stupid. You don’t know what you’re asking me to do!”

“Emma, just listen to me!” Bucky nearly yelled as his hands gripped her shoulders. It was hard enough to keep her still, but he wasn’t rough with her; he would never be rough with her. His blue eyes deepened, engulfing her almost completely, “if I can't make it out of here alive-if fate has other plans for me-I'll only be able to die happy if I know that you're safe. I just don’t understand why you can’t follow my orders.”

“Because I'm not a soldier!” she yelled in exasperation as she pushed him away. Bucky stumbled back but caught himself, and she was left in shock at her burst of strength. Even though it was a surprise, she wasted no time in continuing, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears as quickly as they fell, “and fate doesn't have any other plans for you. You’re not meant to be here, and you’re not meant to die. You're meant to make it out of here. You're meant to be safe...with me. I can't let you die, Bucky, not after everything else I've lost. I can't lose you, too. I can’t.”

As another tear fell, Bucky reached out and cradled her face in his hands. A piece of Emma wanted to pull away, wanted to keep yelling at him for being so oblivious, but when he held her, she felt like he understood. As the tears began to dry, Bucky murmured soft apologies as he wiped every stray one from her cheeks. For a fleeting moment, Emma imagined what her life would be like if they escaped together. She imagined a life with Bucky by her side every step of the way. She didn’t need to get to know him more to know that they were made to find each other. He wasn’t was Emma was looking for. In fact, Bucky was probably the polar opposite of what she thought she wanted. She always pictured her soulmate to be tall with blonde hair and emerald green eyes. What she pictured was completely destroyed when she met Bucky, and she regretted none of it.

As she gazed up into his eyes, she leaned forward, pushing herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his cheek. She cupped the opposite side of his face with her hand to keep him steady. As she lingered there for longer than even she expected to, she wondered what his reaction would be to a few more kisses. The feeling of his skin against her lips drove her wild, and the sudden heat radiating from his body told her that he could be feeling something very similar. His skin was smooth against her lips, and when pulled away from the innocent kiss, she pressed her cheek against his, yearning for any form of contact. He was warm and soft and strong.

When she finally leaned back to gaze into his eyes, it was almost bittersweet. She knew that this could be the last moment they spent alone together. She knew that once they walked out that door, she could be killed or-even worse-he could be killed. This could be her very last moment of happiness, and his eyes mirrored her emotions, like he was feeling the exact same thing. She noticed the hint of redness on his cheeks and smiled at his bashfulness. Not wanting to call too much attention to it, she turned to walk over to the door and begin the war that laid ahead of them. Before she could take a single step, those cool metal fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her. When she turned around to question the soldier about his reasons for stopping her, that’s when he took her breath away.

With one fluid motion, Bucky’s lips were pressed firmly against hers. His hands gripped her face, steadying her, and in turn, steadying himself. He dumped every ounce of passion and heartbreak and uncertainty into the kiss, and Emma was caught off guard by everything about it. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her, but...damn, she wanted it! She didn’t expect to feel his pain and fear, but she was glad she did because she wanted to silence those thoughts. To quiet his fears, she filled the kiss with the optimism and determination and passion she always had. As he wrapped his metal arm around her waist and cradled her face with his human hand, she melted into him, arching her body into his. Even in the midst of all the chaos, everything felt right, and Emma realized that her life would be empty without him.

A small explosion pulled them back to reality, and they pulled away from each other. Bucky smiled down at the visibly delirious young woman, and she wondered if she was as intoxicating to him as he was to her. As Bucky picked up his rifle, he held one out to Emma, and she shook her head, “if I need a gun, I’ll take one,” she assured him, feeling the adrenaline pumping. She could feel the power surging through her veins, and she knew that she would be strong enough to fight. Bucky nodded his head, smirking at her comment before returning the muzzle back to his face where it had been the previous night. His eyes hardened as soon as the mask was on, but she knew why he was doing it. Hydra would know that he went rogue if he wasn’t wearing the muzzle, and he was taking the precautions. Right before he opened the door, Emma reached out to grab his metal arm. His cold eyes met hers and softened immediately, “we’re leaving here together...no matter what it takes.”

Then, he opened the door with one swift motion. She watched him as he looked both directions down the long hallway to see that they were empty. The sound of hurried footsteps came from both directions, though, and they echoed on the metal floor, making it almost impossible to tell how close they were. Knowing that they would have to go toward the danger to reach her family and safety, Emma desperately wanted to step in front of Bucky in order to take the brunt of whatever would lie ahead, but there was no way he’d let that happen-she was sure of it. Staying close behind him as they moved through the hallways, Emma could hear the whirring in his metal arm, brought on by-what she guessed-was anxiety.

As the shooting became louder, Emma felt her blood pumping through her veins. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, and her entire body trembled. Bucky shot down every Hydra operative who even looked her way. He was lethal. When they turned the final corner into the mess hall, she saw Clint, Natasha, and her father. Realizing quickly that he wasn’t in his suit, that he was the most vulnerable one out of anyone in the facility, Emma broke out into a full sprint to him. She could feel Bucky right behind her. Before they hit the set of metal stairs to lead up to the balcony, Bucky grabbed her waist, pulling her to the side and using his metal arm to deflect a bullet meant for her chest. After her savior put a bullet through the Hydra operatives throat, she hesitated before running up the stairs, “remind me to thank you for that when we get out of here,” she stated, a light smile spreading across her lips before she hurried up the stairs with him on her heels.

With only one Hydra operative between her and her father, Emma watched as Clint threw him off the balcony and onto the concrete floor below. The moment her eyes connected with her father’s was a moment of pure joy. She was sure she’d never see him alive again, but there he was. Before she could run to him, to melt into the arms of the man who chased away the monsters in her closet when she was young, his eyes flickered over to the man at her side. Her soldier. Her Bucky. She’d never seen a man with as much hate and abhorrence in his eyes as her father in that very moment. Tony broke away from Clint and Natasha, his eyes locking on Bucky, “you’re the one who helped torture my daughter. I’m gonna kill you, you piece of shit!” he yelled, aiming his gun at the soldier. Natasha and Clint raised their weapons as well with just as much anger present in their eyes.

Without hesitation, Emma stepped between Bucky and her family, acting as a shield, “NO! Don’t hurt him!” she shouted, desperate for them to hear her and to listen. Tears rushed to her eyes as she had hoped this would lead to a happy ending. She didn’t want to think that she’d come so close to escaping with Bucky only to have the people she loved the most massacre him in front of her. She couldn’t watch him die.

Tony stepped forward, not showing a single sign that he would lower his weapon, “Honey, get out of the way,” he demanded in a low voice, keeping his eyes locked on Bucky.

“No! I won’t let you hurt him!” she dictated, standing strong against her father and the people who had been a part of her life for what seemed like forever. Her body trembled with fear and uncertainty and so much adrenaline, but she pushed it aside as she felt the helplessness sink in. She needed to make them understand because she refused to lose Bucky, “please, just...trust me,” she begged.

Stepping to the side, Tony took a clear shot at Bucky. For Emma, it felt like it happened in slow motion, almost like they were in a movie. She reached out as if doing so would somehow stop the bullet or stop him even though he had already pulled the trigger. As the gunshot rang out, bouncing off the metal and concrete walls, Emma heard the audible gasp from everyone on the balcony. Then, there was absolute and utter silence. Following their line of sight, she realized what happened. A violet mist enveloped the bullet in the middle of the air, stopping it completely. The same violet mist radiated around her hand, twisting and turning like the wind in the spring. Her jaw dropped, wondering what was happening. She had always known of some strange occurrences with her, but she’d certainly never disclosed them to her father, afraid that he would be even more protective of her than he already was. She knew that she wasn’t normal, but she didn’t know just how abnormal she was until that very moment.

As everyone stared at both her and the bullet, she clenched her fist and watched as the bullet disintegrated into nothing. What was happening to her? She looked down at her hands, terrified of what she was capable of. The look on everyone’s faces after she caught the bullet in mid air made her feel out of control and terrified. When their expressions twisted to horror after she destroyed the bullet without even touching it, she knew that something was wrong with her. To her surprise, Tony was the only person who didn’t look absolutely horrified at her power. Her heart pounded against her ribcage to the point of physical pain. She stared up into her father's eyes, “kill him, and you kill me, too,” she remarked, determined to save him. Bucky was the only thing that felt right, the only thing that made sense. She blinked the tears away, “I don’t want to die, but I will...for him” she added.

The entire room fell silent. Where there had once been gunshots and shouting, it was quiet. While Tony was trying to make sense of all that happened, Clint wouldn’t stop glaring at Bucky, and Natasha was desperately trying to come to terms with the fact that Emma would die for a member of Hydra. No one knew what Emma knew, though. Bucky was just as much a prisoner as she was. While her people were frozen in shock, Emma turned around to gaze up at Bucky. He was still surprised at what he had witnessed with the bullet, but she saw the pain in his eyes when it sank in just how much she cared for him. She knew that taking a chance on him could be a risk, but it was a risk she was willing to take no matter what, “run,” she ordered.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at her in confusion. His metal hand reached up and pulled the muzzle from his face, and she saw the frown etched on his lips, “I can’t!” he exclaimed with so much disbelief that she would even tell him to do that. When she opened her mouth to argue her point, he spoke again, “we leave here together or not at all!” he repeated her words from before.

With no other option, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. She knew that this was the only way to get him to understand, to let him know that she was doing this for him. She didn’t have the time to explain what she felt for him, so she had to show him. It was also her way of saying goodbye because the only way he would ever be safe was to stay as far away from her as possible. She was prone to danger, and she wouldn’t be the reason for his pain and suffering. She knew that he was her person, the one everyone spends a lifetime trying to find, and she had to give him up. It was what she told him in that kiss. When she pulled away, she gazed up into his eyes with tears in her own, “please...go.”

“Now, isn’t that so sweet!” the familiar voice of her kidnapper, Kyr, ringing our behind them all. He made his way up the stairs her and Bucky had ascended to reach her people. Everyone’s eyes were on him as he glared at each of them. His blonde hair looked disheveled, and he looked angrier than usual. Since he had often been the one to beat Emma, she had seen him plenty angry in previous moments. On his arm was the newest weapon she had already been introduced to, a weapon that made her shudder at the mere sight of it. It could emit pulses of energy as well as beams of pure energy, burning through its victims. The tech reminded her of her father’s suits, but they only managed to manufacture the arm piece instead of an entire suit. Kyr aimed the weapon at Emma, causing everyone to freeze.

Emma knew her father, though, and the second her life was put into question, the anger boiled up within him, “take another step closer to her, and I’ll kill you. I swear to God, I’ll kill you and everyone you’ve ever loved,” Tony growled, aiming his gun at Kyr before reaching out to Emma, “come over here,” he instructed, hope in his deep brown eyes.

Before Emma could even think of moving over to her father, Kyr wrapped his arm around her waist, holding the repulsor in the palm of his glove to her head. Emma tensed up, fear shooting through her body and leaving her trembling. Kyr had used the weapon on her when she first arrived at the facility, the energy causing her to feel like the energy would burn through her body from the inside out. The pain was unbearable and made her wish for death. No other pain could compare to that one. The thought of feeling that again made the tears stream down her cheeks, knowing that it would be her or someone else who would experience it, and even though the pain would kill her this time around, she would take it all to protect the ones she loved. In a desperate attempt to keep her family from seeing her so broken and abused, she lowered her head and tried to collect herself.

Kyr backed up, taking Emma with him so that Bucky wasn’t behind them. He saw the kind of relationship she was forging with Hydra’s top soldier, so she knew that Kyr didn’t trust Bucky not to shoot him in the back for this. Kyr snickered at Tony and his misplaced confidence, “make one wrong move, and you, your daughter, and your team are dead,” he said, snapping his fingers, “just like that,” he smiled, gripping Emma’s hair and tugging her head back so that Tony could see the tears she tried to hide, “look at her. Weak, pathetic-just like her father. I have to say that I saw potential in her, though. I had a few plans for her if you hadn’t spoiled our fun with this attack. I have to say that you’ve made quite a dent in our operation here, Mr. Stark, but I’m afraid your victory was short lived. I still expect you to live up to your end of the bargain or I’ll show you what this does with your daughter as the first of many examples. So, you have the choice. You...or your daughter.”

Closing her eyes, time seemed to stop for just a moment. Every memory flooded through her, every moment she felt happiness, every moment she had with her father. The last ones were moments she shared with Bucky. She thought of his arms around her while they laid in bed together the previous night. She thought of his lips on hers and the way he looked at her, like she was everything good in his life. She thought of her favorite memories with her family. She thought about the time she spent in the workshop with her father, suggesting different designs for his suits, which he always took to heart. She thought of the time when Coulson taught her how to drive using his red corvette, Lola. She thought of Steve lifting her up on his shoulders so that she could put the star on top of the Christmas tree in his apartment. She remembered Clint teaching her swear words in sign language. She remembered Bruce singing her to sleep some nights when she was anxious. She remembered Natasha passing on the wisdom that fighting like a girl didn’t mean that she was weaker than men but that it meant fighting with conviction and for something greater than herself.

In that moment, Emma knew that she would have to fight like a girl. She knew that she would have to fight to protect the only people who meant more to her than anything else. With the lives of her people at stake and with the knowledge that her father would sacrifice himself to save her, she had to take that decision away from him. To her, the world would always need Tony Stark. He was a hero...her hero. The world didn’t need her as much as they needed him. Finding her strength, she smiled at her father, “I love you,” she declared before channelling every ounce of her power to cause the power core in the weapon to fail. In turn, the glove overheated and began to melt to Kyr’s hand and arm. The scream he let out was blood curdling, but nothing compared to the smell of burning flesh. She pulled away from him and faced him, watching as he struggled to rip the glove off. The violet mist radiated from the palm of her hand and at the glove, causing further damage to the power core and causing the system inside to fail.

Kyr glared up at her, realizing that this was her doing, “you little bitch!” he shouted, pulling out his sidearm in one swift motion. Then, there was silence. Emma’s ears rang, and for a moment, it felt like she was underwater. She could hear the screams behind her, but it was as if they were so far away. A warmth spread throughout her abdomen, and after a short second, another patch of warmth spread throughout her left shoulder. She reached down to her abdomen, feeling the wetness on the tips of her fingers. When she brought them back up to look at them, she noticed the blood. She was...shot? Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes locked on Kyr. As the ringing in her ears subsided, Kyr closed the space between them, and wrapped his hand around her throat, bringing their faces closer together, “what a waste,” he growled, tossing her broken body over to Bucky who caught her in his strong arms before she could fall to the ground, “here. Finish it. And clean it up when you’re done. I don’t want a mess again,” Kyr ordered, turning around to face Tony, Natasha, and Clint. Aiming the weapon at them, he emitted a pulse of energy that would knock them unconscious for a limited time, but it would give him three less people to worry about for the moment.

Emma felt a sense of peace. Her mother would come to collect her and take her home, she was sure of it, but there was so much left to do here. She wasn’t ready to die. She wasn’t ready to leave the world behind when she had so much love left to give. She wasn’t ready to leave Bucky. As she gazed up at him, hoping for him to be the last thing she saw in this life, she felt sorrow. His eyes were clouded with guilt, and she knew that he blamed himself for the situation they were in. She shook her head, grasping his shirt as tightly as she could with her strength leaving her as fast as it was, “it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice weak and broken, “it’s okay, Bucky,” she reminded him, sensing that he was starting to fall back to the anger he was in when she first saw him. She didn’t want this to break him. She wanted him to go on and pass on the love she would have if she had more time. There was love in him, and she wanted him to experience that even after he lost her.

Keeping his left arm locked tightly around her waist, Bucky raised his sidearm at Kyr. Feeling Bucky’s intense glare, Kyr turned to look at the two of them, “think about what you’re doing. Think very carefully before you cross me. Whatever you do to me, I’ll make them hurt you a thousand times worse. You know that. You’ve learned that lesson before,” Kyr taunted, trying to gain leverage. Seeing that threatening him wouldn’t work, Kyr smirked and glanced over at Emma, “think of what I could have them do to your little girlfriend here. You have no idea just how creative I can be, so if you try to cross me, think of how they’ll hurt her,” he stated, causing Bucky to hesitate.

Emma squeezed his shirt, wanting it to end. If Kyr was dead, he couldn’t hurt anyone again, but Emma knew what Bucky was most afraid of-that Kyr would survive to hurt her. Still, Bucky didn’t lower his gun as the conflict raged on behind his blue eyes. Kyr stepped forward and lowered Bucky’s gun for him becoming impatient with the soldier’s inability to make a decision. His thin lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he grabbed Emma’s face, “it’s a terrible waste of a beautiful face, and a terrible waste of a soldier,” he shook his head, glancing back up at Bucky. Behind Kyr, Emma’s people began rising back up from the floor, a bit disoriented but fine otherwise.

Almost as soon as Kyr’s words clicked in Emma’s mind, he lunged forward, burying a knife deep into Bucky’s abdomen, twisting the blade as he sunk it into the soldiers body. He just wanted to get Bucky out of the way, and he didn’t care that he was sacrificing the most talented and decorated soldier in Hydra. It would make the coming storm easier without his insubordination. Emma’s heart sank, “NO!” she screamed, feeling dizzy from the sudden burst of energy. As Bucky stumbled back, he took Emma with him, still not wanting her to fall.

Kyr pulled the knife from Bucky’s body, and the soldier grunted as blood began to spill from the wound. He held himself upright, fighting through the pain. Kyr narrowed his eyes at him, “what could she possibly have to offer that I can’t? What could you possibly gain from this little stunt? Name one good reason you have for doing this, for throwing it all away!” he shouted, wanting to understand.

Bucky’s answer shook Emma to her very core.

“Her!” Bucky yelled, his voice stronger than ever before. It was filled with passion and conviction. As his left arm tightened around her, she gripped his shirt tighter to stay conscious. Bucky continued, tears filling his eyes and a stray one falling down his cheek, “she’s my one good reason. You hurt her. You made me hurt her. Now-” Bucky paused, raising his gun again, “-it’s your turn” he growled, shooting Kyr in both kneecaps to bring him down to the ground.

Even as the pain spread through one of the heads of Hydra, he maintained his scowl and power, “I’ll see you in hell.”

“It won’t be hell for you until I get there, so you better enjoy it while you can,” Bucky noted before dropping his gun. He reached down to his side and pulled out his knife. With one quick motion, Kyr’s throat was sliced open, and he fell to the floor, grasping at his neck to stop the bleeding. The gurgling died away as Kyr’s lifeless body spasmed a few times before stopping completely. Bucky didn’t bat an eye, and Emma knew it must’ve been because he was used to that lifestyle. He lifted Emma up into his arms, and she felt the loss of blood getting to her. She felt tired, like she wanted to go to sleep, but she knew that if she gave in to that urge, there was a very real possibility that she’d never wake up. As she struggled to keep her eyes open, she remembered the very first power she ever discovered.

When she was younger, a little boy who lived next door to her and her father had fallen off his bicycle and onto the pavement. He scraped his knee and cut his cheek on a rock. He was only 5, and he was riding his bike while his parents were in the backyard. She was only 7 at the time, but her sympathy led her to running out into the road to be with him. As he cried, Emma’s heart broke into pieces. She remembered grabbing his hand, and his wounds were healed. The only drawback was that they became her wounds. She gazed up at Bucky with a smile, knowing that she wasn’t going to make it out of this no matter how hard they all tried to save her, so why not ensure Bucky’s survival?

With the last bit of power that she could tap into, Emma reached up and stroked Bucky’s cheek. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself, feeling the brand new wound forming on her abdomen. She clenched her jaw, fighting back the pain. It was like a fire spread through her veins. She wanted to scream, but her body was tired. When she opened her eyes again, she gazed up at Bucky. Realizing what she had done, Bucky’s eyes widened, watching the blood seeping out of her new wound, “what did you do? What did you do?!” he nearly shouted, unparalleled fear clouding his eyes.

“I told you...I would die...trying to...get you...out of here,” she murmured between labored breaths before her world went black.

*Bucky’s POV*

Bucky panicked even more after Emma’s body went limp in his arms. She was still alive, but she was barely there. His eyes flickered up to Tony’s, the man who hated him for every good reason, “your daughter will die if she doesn’t receive medical attention immediately. I can get her to the surface faster than you can whether you want to admit it or not. You can try to shoot me, try to kill me, or try to hurt me. I deserve all of it, but...I’m just asking you to wait until she’s taken care of,” Bucky pleaded with him, trying to reason with the broken father. Bucky couldn’t possibly imagine what it was like to see your child on the very brink of death, but he could understand what it was like to lose everything. Bucky lost everything once before, and the moment he found a reason to live, fate was threatening to take everything away from him again.

Without waiting for a response from her father, Bucky turned on his heel and ran toward the surface with her in his arms. He was faster and stronger than all of them, but he also knew the entire facility like the back of his hand. He knew all the shortcuts and hidden passageways, so he could get her to safety without incident. The redhead was behind Bucky the entire way. He didn’t know her, but the one thing he did know was that she hated him just like Tony and the archer. She kept a close eye on every move he made, and Bucky knew-without the shadow of a doubt-that if he stepped out of line at all, she’d kill him without hesitation. If Emma didn’t make it, he’d welcome death at that point.

When they finally reached the quinjet, Bucky ran up the ramp right behind the redhead Bucky walked up to the lone man on the aircraft with a lab coat on, which Bucky hoped would be a doctor or someone who could help. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the young woman who looked so close to death, “oh God, Natasha! What happened?” he asked.

Emma’s head craned to the side, and she smiled over at the doctor, “hi, uncle Bruce” she murmured with a weak smile. She was fighting so hard to hold on to consciousness, and their entire way up to the surface, Bucky could feel her fading in and out. She was starting to struggle.

Bruce’s eyes locked with hers, and the tears were clear in his brown eyes. Bucky could finally see just how much love her people had for her. Before Natasha could answer his question, Bucky spoke, “she has a gunshot wound and a stab wound on the abdomen and a gunshot wound on her left shoulder. She's lost quite a bit of blood already. Tell me what I can do,” he pleaded, wanting to be of some help instead of just sitting and waiting for her to bleed out.

“Put her down on the cot over there,” Bruce pointed over at a more secluded area of the quinjet, “I need to find my kit,” he stated, frantically searching the aircraft for his medical supplies. Bucky was sure they were expecting some cuts and scrapes when they rescued her, but he wasn’t sure if they were expecting wounds to this extent.

Following Bruce’s order, Bucky carried her over to the cot and laid her down on it as gently as possible. Watching her face twist in pain made his heart shatter, so he tried as hard as possible to ease that pain as much as possible. He watched as she gripped the bedsheets next to her, desperately clinging to life before it had the chance to leave her. When Bucky moved to leave and help Bruce, he stopped when she grabbed his hand. Her grip was weak but still filled with a strength he witnessed from her time and time again. He stared down at her, his heart breaking slowly. He lowered himself down onto the cot next to her like he had the previous night. He wanted to hold her in his arms again and feel the weight of her head on his chest. She chased the nightmares away, and he never wanted them to come back.

Her slender fingers intertwined with his metal ones, and she found the courage to smile up at him, her eyes glistening with tears, “this is your chance,” she stated, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed. He imagined, for a moment, that his world wasn’t falling apart with every labored breath her body dragged in. Her fingers were featherlight against his cheek and jaw. As she laid in bed, committing every feature of his face to memory, Bucky reached up and caught her hand in his. He didn’t want her to have to remember him. He wanted to be by her side, not as a distant memory, “it’s finally over, Bucky. You’ve suffered enough.”

Bucky could feel the hot tears in his eyes, threatening to fall. This was what she turned him into, a man with no control. He had never experienced a pain like that before, and he could finally remember every piece of his past. He could remember who he was before Hydra took him, and even when he was a prisoner in their organization and in his own mind, he didn’t know true pain until he was this close to losing the one woman who made him remember himself. She was the woman he’d been looking for since the beginning of time, the one woman he recognized even when they’d never met. She wasn’t a stranger when they met. He shook his head, biting his bottom lip to keep his from quivering, “I don’t want to leave you-not like this,” he trembled, a stray tear falling from his cheek.

Emma wiped the tear away, and Bucky could feel her heart breaking. She didn’t want to see him cry for her, “there’s nothing you can do about this. I made my decision. If I had to do it all over, I’d make the same ones because you’re safe,” she replied, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she forced them back open. The struggle was becoming more and more difficult, but she wouldn’t go easily.

“Why did you do it?” Bucky asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at her bloodied shirt. It was almost completely soaked with her blood, and he could only imagine what it looked like underneath. He had seen gunshot wounds before and stab wounds, but he didn’t want to think of them on her. He didn’t want to think of the excruciating pain she was in because he knew-no matter how much she denied it-he played a pivotal role in causing her pain. Even if it was the soldier and not Bucky who did those things, he still felt responsible. He should’ve fought their control harder. He shook his head, confusion spreading through him as quickly as the guilt, “I just-I don’t understand. Why would you forfeit everything for me?”

Emma pulled her hand from his cheek and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up. When their eyes connected, it was like she was healed. The fire that had been starting to die out was more than present in her eyes. As she spoke, her voice was filled with the same conviction Bucky grew to love, “because you’re everything to me,” she confessed, “you’re so much more than you think. You are not this broken piece of machinery. You aren’t Hydra’s weapon. You’re Bucky. You’re what I’ve been looking for all this time. This was what fate had in store for me, to protect the one thing that meant more to me than anything else. I wish...I had more time to explain it to you, but...I don’t know if I’d be able to even if I tried. You mean everything to me, Bucky...everything. So never, for a single moment, think that I forfeited everything for nothing because my life means nothing to me if it means I can save you.”

As the tears streamed down Emma’s cheeks, Bucky found himself just as emotional. In that moment, he was validated. He didn’t believe he was worthy of her sacrifice-he never would. However, he caught himself wondering how he could hate himself so much when the person who meant the most to him looked at him the way she did. She looked at him the way he could remember his mother used to look at his father-like he was the center of her universe. The tears streamed freely down his cheeks, and he didn’t try to hide them and didn’t feel ashamed about them for the first time in his life, “I don’t want you to go. We didn’t have enough time,” he whimpered.

“No amount of time would’ve been enough,” she reminded him, the light beginning to fade from her eyes once more, “but I just want to see you smile one more time,” she whispered, her energy fading.

Bucky forced himself to smile for her, trying to push aside all his sadness to make their last moments together as beautiful as she was. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers once more, feeling the love radiating from her just as strong as before. Her right hand cupped his cheek as she smiled into the kiss. Bucky wanted to know what she was thinking in that very moment, but all he knew for certain was that she was happy. Even on the brink of death, she felt joy. When he finally pulled away, he stroked her cheek as gently as possible. She was beautiful and fragile, but yet so strong and rough. He smiled down at her, tears of unparalleled emotion filling his eyes, “you are so beautiful,” he confessed, causing a smile to spread across her full lips.

Then, her eyes closed.

*Tony’s POV*

Tony had never run so fast in his life. Clint could barely keep up. When they reached Steve, who had been keeping the upper levels clear for them, Clint decided that he would help Steve clear out the remainder of the Hydra facility. They wouldn’t be able to do it on their own, but they would do their best to hold out until S.H.I.E.L.D. got there. Steve and Clint both knew that Tony had no intentions of helping, and they didn’t expect that of him, especially when Emma’s life was on the line. They wanted to be there with her, too, but they understood that leaving the facility could mean a swift retaliation from Hydra. Tony made his way to the surface on his own, taking down the only two Hydra agents who stood in his way. He ran through the field to the quinjet and up the ramp. Before he could enter the aircraft, Natasha pressed her hand against the middle of his chest, stopping him. If she were anyone else, Tony would’ve broken her wrist for keeping him from his daughter in that moment, “Emma’s stable,” she informed him, “it took Bruce some time, but he worked his magic like he always does. She’ll need extensive care back at the facility, but she’s not dead.”

Tony nodded his head, but there was one little detail that she avoided, “where is he?” he asked, the heat of rage rising in his chest. He wanted to kill that man.

Natasha’s blue eyes locked with his, and he saw so much of Emma in her, “Tony, you need to think before you do anything irrational,” she stated, trying to ground him before he spiralled too far out of control.

“Irrational?” he asked with a chuckle, “I’m gonna kill him! You saw what he did to Emma, too. Was it just me?” he asked, his voice louder than usual. He had been through so much more than any father should have to go through, and Natasha was trying to talk him out of killing the one man who caused his daughter a world of pain? Why would he let Bucky walk away after that?

She lowered her eyes, trying to think of any way to keep him from killing the young man. Tony could see the conflict in the assassin. In any other situation, she would be the first to put a bullet through someone’s head, especially if they wronged someone she loved, and Natasha loved Emma like the sister she never had. He could see how torn she was, but he was on a warpath. She sighed, “you’re her father, so the choice is up to you. Just know that while I hate him for what he did, he’s the one that saved her life. If it wasn’t for him, she would’ve bled out and died before we could even get her to Steve,” she reminded him as her last attempt to save Emma the heartbreak and loss she would feel if Tony went through with executing Bucky.

“Steve and Clint need help clearing the facility. They're buying time before S.H.I.E.L.D. gets here. I can handle things here,” he stated, unaffected by what she said. He didn’t care that Bucky helped save his daughter’s life. He made her bleed, and now it was his turn. He watched as the reluctant young woman stepped past him and made her way back toward the facility, but it wasn’t before she shot a sorrow-filled look in the direction of Emma and Bucky.

Tony walked past Bruce who was trying to meditate through his wild emotions. Emma taught Bruce different tricks in meditation. She was often the one to ground him, but after nearly losing her, Tony knew that Bruce had to do everything in his power to stop the other guy from coming out. Walking over to the cot, Tony saw Bucky sitting vigil right at her bedside. The bed was covered in her blood, and so was the young soldier. Tony’s heart thudded against his ribcage until he felt physical pain. He clenched his jaw, trying to find the rage that had once been within him. He tried to find the will to kill the young man. However, when Bucky pulled Emma’s hand up to his lips, pressing three kisses against it, Tony couldn’t help but soften. He couldn’t help but remember when he would do that with Anna Marie-Emma’s mother.

For the first time since he saw Bucky hurt his daughter, Tony felt conflicted in what he was meant to do. He felt uncertain. The drive was no longer there, but he wanted to kill him. He wanted to hurt Bucky the way he hurt his little girl. Without hesitation, Tony pulled out his sidearm and aimed it at the back of Bucky’s head. To his surprise, Bucky didn’t even flinch when he pulled the slide back. There was a faint voice in the back of his mind telling him to take a step back. He didn’t want to give any credit to the man who hurt Emma so badly, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that without him, Emma would have died. Bucky’s eyes remained locked on Emma, and he continued to stroke the back of her hand with his thumb as if Tony wasn’t even there, “look at me” Tony barked out, his entire body trembling like a leaf because he was so conflicted.

Bucky didn’t show any signs of moving. Instead, he continued to hold her hand, staring at her peaceful body, “when I met your daughter...I started to remember. It was like the memories I treasured most came flooding back-memories Hydra stole from me-like I was witnessing them for the first time. I wasn’t, though. I could finally recall my past. I saw the face of my mother. That’s when I knew your daughter was special. She helped me remember my mom, the first woman I ever loved. I always thought that my mom would be the first and last woman I would ever love, but...I knew I was wrong when I met Emma,” the soldier confessed, reaching out to brush a stray piece of hair from Emma’s face. Tony stiffened at the movement and at the sheer weight of his words, but Bucky continued, “my mom told me once that...you’ll know your feelings for someone are true if they’re the first person you want to see when you wake and the last person you want to see before falling asleep. Sir, if this is the last time I fall asleep, she’s the last person I want to see.”

Tony was completely still as he sat by Emma’s bedside. For six days, he waited. For six days, his fellow Avengers kept him company. Every night, each member of the team would find a spot in the room and sleep there. Tony would sometimes crawl into the hospital bed with her, careful not to knock into any of the machines that monitored her every breath and heartbeat. If he didn’t sleep in the bed with her, he would sleep in the chair right next to her bed, holding her hand throughout the night. On the nights Tony didn’t sleep with her, Steve would somehow manage to fit his massive form into the vacant space on the bed. Tony was surprised his muscles didn’t impede him from sleeping in the bed with her, but he knew that even if they tried, Steve would find a way to sleep by her side. No matter how they felt toward each other, they always had one thing in common, their love for Emma. Tony loved Steve simply because of how much Steve loved Emma and how selfless he was when it came to her.

As Tony sat by her bed, waiting for her to wake up, he gazed down at the pictures of his soulmate, Emma’s mother, Anna. He couldn’t help but think about how similar they were, how he never truly lost Anna. He could remember the day Emma was born like it was yesterday. He remembered the fear and the heartache as clearly as the joy and love. He could remember the silence in the room when Emma finally entered the world. He remembered the doctors struggling to find any signs of life within her, and he could still hear Anna’s frantic pleas to hold their baby. When the doctors finally handed the body of their lifeless baby over to Anna, Tony remembered the life fading from her eyes as Emma’s finally opened. It was Anna’s final gift to their daughter. The trade was a fair one-a life for a life. He couldn’t help but think of how willing Emma was to do the same for Bucky, trade a life for a life.

As he stared at the pictures of the love of his life, he heard Emma inhale deeply. His brown eyes flickered over to her, seeing that her eyes were finally opened. He couldn’t help but smile. After so much time had passed, he finally had her back. A smirk tugged at the sides of her lips, and he knew that she was doing the best she could given the fact that she’d been in a comatose state for nearly a week, “hi, dad,” she murmured, reaching out for his hand.

Tony’s eyes filled with tears of pure joy. For a while, he was sure he’d never hear her voice again, “hi, sweetheart,” he smiled, his heart filling with warmth and love. He turned the pictures so that Emma could see what he was looking at, “when your mom was pregnant with you, she was scared to death. She was 6 years younger than me, but I was sure she’d be far more capable of raising a baby than I would be. It was something neither of us were prepared for, but we both knew that we wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. We were planning on raising our child together. Your mother was just like you, willful and passionate and filled with so much love. I can remember times when she’d wake up in the middle of the night and walk into your nursery to sketch designs on the wall that she would paint the next day. She changed her mind more times than I can count, and she finally settled on a tree that she called “the tree of life.” She told me that it was because her daughter would make the world a more beautiful place than she found it, that life would always be at the forefront of her daughter’s mind, that she would sacrifice anything to save just one. She knew you better than anyone, and you weren’t even born yet. Your mother was right about a lot of things, and I thought she was done with proving her point to me. 6 days ago, I saw that she wasn’t quite finished” he reminisced, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

Emma squeezed Tony’s hand, and he gazed up at the young woman. She looked so much like him, but she was beautiful like her mother. She was graceful and wild like her mother. She loved like her mother-fully and without reservation. Tony couldn’t keep the pride from filling his heart as Emma showed her support the same way Anna Marie always did. Tony stared down at her, and she smiled up at him, “I’m like you, too,” she reminded him, and Tony could see that she didn’t want him to sell himself short. He knew that she credited him as much as he credited Anna, “I wouldn’t have survived if I wasn’t as determined and stubborn as you are, so there are benefits of being the daughter of the most willful man in history” she joked, trying to lighten the mood before her smile fell, “how am I alive?” she asked

“Bruce and I didn't do it alone,” he confessed, knowing that he couldn’t dance around the subject for very long. There would come a time when they would have to tell her what she was and how she became that way. Tony would have been lying if he didn’t secretly hope and pray that she didn’t inherit that side of her mother. He had been wishing that she’d be able to go through her life without incident and without these abilities that she seemed to showcase. While it was something he was left in awe about with Anna Marie, he saw how much it tore her apart when her abilities didn’t allow her to help. He was terrified that Emma would be labelled a freak or a monster. People used to call Anna that all the time. No matter what happened, and no matter what steps Emma had to take to gain control of her abilities, Tony was prepared to be right by her side like he’d always been. He continued his explanation, “we were assisted by a very helpful professor who your mother studied under. He was the one who helped her get a hold of her abilities. We have a lot to talk about regarding that, but now’s not really the best time.”

“Where's Bucky?” Emma asked the only question that was on her mind. Tony could see that she wasn’t deeply interested in talking about the professor or about what happened at the facility. All she cared about was Bucky, and he knew by the fear in her voice that she was terrified something happened to him.

“I don't know,” Tony answered truthfully, lowering his eyes. He was still conflicted even after he made the decision to let the boy go. There was still a piece of him that wanted to hurt the soldier for what he had done to his daughter, but he had to live with his decision to let him walk away. Tony ran a hand through his hair, “I wanted to kill him, but...it's thanks to him that you're here now. We couldn't have gotten you to Bruce fast enough on our own, and Steve wasn’t close enough to get you to the surface in time. Cap would’ve killed him if he didn't leave before the rest of the team got to the quinjet. I’m sure of it. I saw the way you looked at him, though. It was the way your mother used to look at me. I couldn’t bring myself to take that away from you,” he confessed, seeing the tears well up in her eyes. He reached into his pocket, frantically searching for the one thing that could make her feel better, “he left this for you,” he said, holding out the letter Bucky had begged to write her. When Emma took it from him and pressed it to her heart, Tony knew exactly what Bucky meant to her. Everything.

*Emma’s POV*

Emma stared down at the folded paper for some time before unfolding it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought of the possible contents of the letter. She couldn’t help but think of the last words she said to him and the smile on his face as he pushed away all the sadness just to obey her last wish. She could remember the kiss and the way he called her beautiful. Even thinking about it now, Emma blushed through the tears streaming down her cheeks. Before she opened the letter, she thought of his hands, the same ones that held her through the night, wiped the tears from her eyes, and steadied her face as he kissed her. Before she could reach up to wipe her own tears away, the strong and calloused hands of her father brushed them away. Even though she couldn’t have Bucky, she had Tony, and he was always more than enough for her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before she opened the letter.

Emma,

There is a definitive moment in everyone’s life when you realize that you’ve found your soulmate. It can be shocking and completely unexpected, especially for someone like me who barely knew what love was when you were thrown into my life. I knew hate and anger and loneliness, but you broke down my walls and showed me that even monsters can be loved. There is no possible way for me to sum up just how grateful I am for our time spent together. I only recently remembered everything, and I mean everything. I remember who I am. I remember my mother, my father, my sister, and my brothers. I remember Steve. I remember who I used to be-a man willing to give everything for the ones I love. I became that man again when I was with you.

You took from me all the anger and fear I harbored in my heart, and you filled it with love. Thank you for being the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, inside and out. Thank you for making the days seem a little longer and the nights seem a little shorter. You were a dream within my nightmare, the light inside the darkness, and a little bit of heaven in a place that can only be described as Hell. I promise you, Emma, not a day will go by that I won't think of you and wonder how you are and what you’re thinking about. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the ways I hurt you and for standing by as they hurt you. I will never be able to forgive myself for that, but I know you already have.

I want to thank you for making our limited time together seem like an entire lifetime full of happiness. I will cherish every moment we spent together until the day I die. You will be on my mind every second of every day, and the memory of you will bring a sense of hope to my heart that had never been there before. I don’t know if you’ll wake up or if you’ll ever get the chance to read this, but...I want you to know that I will earn the gift that you gave to me. I will honor your sacrifice by living a life that would make you proud.

I know only a handful of things. I know that my name is James Buchanan Barnes...Bucky. I know that we were meant to find each other, that our souls have known each other long before either one of us were born. I know that I am absolutely and unapologetically in love with you. I know that no amount of time with you would’ve been enough. I know that I’ll miss you for the rest of my life. I know that you will be the driving force behind everything I do from this moment on. You are my reason, Emma. Forever.

-Bucky Barnes

Emma couldn’t wipe the tears from her cheeks fast enough. She just wanted to feel his arms around her one last time. She wanted to tell him that she was just as in love with him as he was with her, but she missed her chance. She was too afraid to tell him before because she wasn’t sure how to express herself. She didn’t know if she was just delusional, but she knew what she felt. She knew that it wasn’t just a crush. Emma loved him. She didn’t know the most intimate details about him, but she knew what happened when they met. The sorrow in her heart was overpowered by her determination to do for others what she did for Bucky. He credited her for saving him, for giving him a second chance at life. The sense of responsibility she felt only grew as she imagined a life of liberating people with him by her side.

Emma forced herself up and off the bed, ignoring Tony’s words of disagreement. He tried to talk her into taking it easy, but fought through the lightheadedness to walk over to the window. The city spread out beneath them, and she realized that she wasn’t even close to home. They were at the Avengers tower, the one place she felt happiest because the people she loved most we safe here. Tony followed her over to the window, grasping her right shoulder, “we’ll find him” he promised, his voice soft but strong, “but in the meantime, we need to get you stabilized,” he noted, walking over to a large mirror on the wall. Emma’s eyes followed him and noticed the proud smile on his face, “Jarvis, open the panel,” he instructed the A.I.

As the mirror faded away, Emma took in the sight of the violet suit of iron armor. It had a slender build compared to Tony’s Iron Man suits, and it looked far more high-tech. The breast plate was shaped for a woman. Other than that and the obvious color changes, it looked almost exactly the same as his. She glanced up at the label for the suit. Tony often labelled his suits in his “Hall of Armors,” and she wondered what this one was called. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw it. The label only read “Emma Stark: Iron Woman.” Her eyes widened as she stared at her name. Tony motioned to the suit, “I was thinking that this would help...because if we’re gonna find Bucky, the team’s gonna need the help of it’s newest Avenger.”

#tony stark #tony stark imagines #tony stark imagine #Steve Rogers #captain america #iron man #clint barton #hawkeye #natasha romanoff #black widow #bruce banner #hulk #hydra #avengers #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #ofc #original female character #original character #oc #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #winter soldier #bucky barnes x ofc #togr #The One Good Reason #TOGR fic

[djarinsbeskar]

Stitches!Verse: the newest member of the rhaer's harem.

Pairing: Kyr Carria/Raesa(Fem!OC)

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Just some writing practice expanding on some of the original relationships and lore on Pamarthe. Doesn't impact the greater Stitches timeline/plot, so feel free to ignore!

“Why are you hovering in the shadows, little fawn?”

If there was ever a person who embodied the delicacy of the doe; her skittishness and beauty—it was Raesa. She had captivated Kyr’s eye almost as soon as she had entered his territory, hidden amongst the towering aisles of the sanctuary where she worked, diligently transcribing poems and song into a chronological account of Pamarthen history. In particular, the coloured history of Clan Carria.

She was the first of his harem he hadn’t fucked before inviting into that prestigious group.

Though shy, she had agreed with such immediacy that it stroked along the spine of Kyr’s ego, made him hunger for her. But the little fawn needed to find her feet, before she found herself under him—and Kyr had plenty of warm bodies to distract himself with in the meantime.

That celibacy hadn’t lasted long, however. Tiptoeing around each other—avoiding twigs that snapped and leaves that crunched in order to feign ignorance of the others’ presence an edging game that left Kyr rock hard and the woman he buried that frustration in thanking Raesa with giggling gossip the next morning.

Raesa positively blushed at the insinuation every time, unable to hide it as said woman braided her hair in the harems summer solar. She was still adjusting and though the network of friends and support provided by the women who made up the rhaer’s harem were a welcome addition to her life, it was still new. And Raesa struggled with new.

It was by that struggle that Kyr and Raesa would finally bond.

When she slipped away into Siodam’s forest to one of the lonelier creeks to bathe and he spotted her weaving through the trees from his balcony. Still unaccustomed to the shared bathhouse, she preferred the privacy of the fresh water still chilly in the young suns weak rays.

He followed. And seeing her sitting naked on one of the many smooth, submerged rocks in the shallow water – free of clothing and makeup, hair wild and looking every inch a primal goddess – he didn’t hesitate to make his presence known. She welcomed him into the water and into her bed, into her as he joined her night after night to slake his hunger for the lovely soul that had haunted his dreams for months.

He still found it endearing how – even after that – she just about jumped out of her skin now when his voice rumbled across her skin, the hint of amusement noticeable in his voice lost in the flurry of nervousness at being addressed.

In front of all those advisors too, Siodam—she should have just waited until later…

The rhaer looked nonplussed, unperturbed as he interrupted the advisor currently speaking. He had his chin resting on his palm, elbow propped and eyes scanning the great hall for something to lay his attentions on. Anything but harvest logistics.

That something, was Raesa.

A feline smirk spread on tempting lips and lit golden eyes with an infernal glow beneath the strands of brunette hair that had escaped his tie. His gaze was lazy as it dipped down the length of her body. A caress in its’ own right, it touched her with honey warmth—sweet, bad for her.

Her stomach plummeted down her navel, an arousing awareness at being the doe spotted by the stag.

Don’t run, he’ll only chase you. He’ll only enjoy it more.

It was only instinct telling her to bolt, like it did to everything. But she didn’t want to run from him, not really. It was a habit she was slowly but surely breaking with his assistance. Every night spent with him inside her, every shattering orgasm chipping away at the hardwired reactions she had to flee from everything and everyone.

Hypersensitive, people called her. An insult.

A survivor, he called her. A compliment.

Nipples pebbled beneath the sheer length dress – it was summer after all – flowing like water down her curves, his effect on her was instant and obvious. It made the smirk nefarious in its’ intent, and his molten eyes lethal in their hold.

Another advisor had begun speaking, commenting on the previous mans’ findings and adding his two credits. They all knew where this was going. Still, better to let the rhaer have his doe. At least then he would be in a better mood. At least then he would be less obstinate and more likely to allow them to go ahead with the plans they had painstakingly prepared to present to him.

He pushed himself up to sit properly, still watching her—and held out a hand, palm open to the willowy beauty. He never commanded, only invited silently. And it was that quiet strength that made it impossible to want to refuse him.

Raesa was across the hall before she was aware her feet were moving. Small hand in his, his fingers swallowed hers as he closed them around her, thumb rubbing with familiar affection across her inner wrist.

“Mm…do not fear that you’re ever interrupting me, little one—” he guessed her worries instantly.

Chewing her bottom lip, Raesa all but forgot about the meeting going on—eyes dropping to his lap in embarrassment. She might accept him every time he came to her, but despite being part of his harem, she had yet to approach him herself for fear of being in the way.

He knew immediately.

And the colour it resulted in on her cheeks only made the weathered leather of his pants tighten further. That made her flush even further when she noticed.

“How was your morning?” he continued, the words so low she felt them rather than heard them—the sound making her all the more aware of her arousal as they shot with single-minded focus to her cunt, pooling with wetness in underwear she wasn’t wearing.

“Slow,” she began, the sound of her voice making the stag inhale through his nose audibly, as though scenting her very vocal cords, “I finished up some work in the sanctuary—”

“I imagine we’ll soon have more history books than we know what to do with,” the hint of a smile quirked the corner of his mouth, “those sentinels are treating you right, little love?”

She nodded, beaming at his encouragement even though she knew his interests lay in the outdoors, not in books.

“So a good morning, all in all?” he hummed, leaning back against the fur lined Seat of his rule, tugging her between his legs as he did so with confident ease.

“Mm…almost,” she admitted to the curious arch of a single brow, eyes alight with amused interest.

“Almost?”

Raesa nodded, her hands falling to the solid expanse of his thighs—fingers splayed not fitting fully over the tops of them. Strong, fast, as lethal as his gaze and as devastating as his voice. She held that gaze now as she dropped to her knees, slow—purposeful, to catch every shift of his irises as they changed, darkened.

He didn’t stop her from undoing the laces of his pants, too tight to be comfortable… and even when one of his advisors cleared his throat, Kyr only waved a hand dismissively for him to continue his presentation. And all the while, his gaze never left hers.

Not when she pulled his cock from his pants. Not when she wet it with small, tentative licks. Not when she stroked the girthy length of it with slow drags of her wrist up and down it.

His eyes only fell closed when she took him into her mouth, a suppressed groan showing in a strained jaw and head tipped back as he basked in the pleasure. Falling into a comfortable rhythm, Raesa would soon find his hand in her hair, guiding her down his cock while he went back to listening to the meeting. Nodding to certain demands and feeling much more generous than he had an hour before.

#djarinbeskar writes #stitches #kyr carria #clan carria #kyr x raesa #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #original writing

[elizabethhollowswriting-blog]

Number Stories - 58 & 99

Alright! Next up on my list of OC drabbles we have some randomly picked numbers selected by a volunteer. This one has been written about Kyr & Evander from my  homosexual romance story The Forbidden Flame found on kindle here. 

This is set post story and the scenarios chosen were “Accidental Eavesdropping” (58) & “Magical Accidents” (99).

Kyr was looking for his lover, yet despite the honesty and trust in their relationship, Kyr knew he wasn’t supposed to overhear Evander. He had been walking through the castle on Ma’toire when he heard his lover’s voice. Evander had sounded uncertain and nervous which had instantly worried Kyr and made him step close to the door.

Kyr had spent many years on Ma’toire since Evander’s inauguration and the forming of their romantic relationship. He was a familiar face and was accepted by the ísmachs as Evander’s lover. He knew he could go anywhere on the planet and explore to his heart’s content.

It was why, hearing Evander’s hissed words startled him, “Keep Kyr away, he’s not allowed anywhere near here.”

“Yes, Kón-Evander,” he heard from what sounded like a guard.

Kyr was so busy frowning at the door with confusion and puzzling over Evander’s request that he didn’t think to move away. It meant that when the guard opened it, her eyes widened in shock before she was remarking, “K-Kyr of Hial.”

She hurriedly smoothed out her startled expression and made an attempt to edge out the door without Kyr seeing inside. “Kón-Evander is busy at present. May I assist you?”

Kyr frowned. “Is everything alright?”

“I-”

“Kyr?” She was interrupted by Evander who appeared behind the door, pushing it open just enough for them to better see each other.

Kyr shivered violently as cold air slipped through. It was the first time in years and was not only strange but concerning. Kyr hadn’t felt cold on Ma’toire since Evander had given him the charms to regulate his higher body temperature and keep him safe from the planet’s winter landscape.

Evander noticed his reaction and he and the guard quickly slipped out of the room, Kyr was still close enough to see what looked like snow; in fact, some snowflakes snuck out on the breeze before Evander could fully shut the door.

Evander placed a hand on Kyr’s arm--deliberately touching him through his shirt--and began leading him away, yet even through the material Kyr could feel how much colder Evander’s skin was than normal.

“There was an accident,” Evander explained, “three young magic-users inadvertently created an indoor blizzard. It’s far too powerful for even my charms to protect you.”

Kyr grimaced. “How much of the castle does it cover?”

“Only a few rooms in this wing, but I would have you avoid the entire side of the castle until it is undone.” Evander stopped them at the end of the hall and squeezed his arm. “I am sorry, but I have to assist in undoing this and it may take some time.”

Kyr shook his head. “No, that’s fine. I understand.”

Lifting up his hand, Kyr went to touch his lover’s cheek but Evander edged away, looking apologetic. “I am far too cold.”

Kyr winced; their skin temperatures had always differed; him being from a land of fire and Evander being from a land of ice meant that touch could be anywhere from a delicious thrill to sharply painfully. Their bodies had mostly accustomed to each other, but there were still some limits they couldn’t push.

He lowered his hand and gave a soft nod. “Find me when you are finished?”

“Always,” Evander promised, brushing his fingers lightly over Kyr’s shirt with affection before he was turning away to sort out the magical blizzard.

Kyr just watched him go with a fond smile before making his way to the kitchens to organize some food. His lover would need a nice meal after he was finished, and Kyr wanted to make sure it would be one of Evander’s favourites.

If anyone wants to see other stories about my OC’s or just want to prompt me with some numbers, feel free to hit up my ask with two numbers between 1 and 100. 

You can also request they be something other than my existing OC’s: fem/fem, angel/demon, whatever. Go wild :)

Just don’t pick the following numbers:

78 & 32 - written about Charles and James here

18 & 93 - written about Kyr & Evander here

20 & 56 - written about Charles and James here with additional rambles here

58 & 99 - written above

#the forbidden flame #lgbt fiction #ficlet #lgbt romance #number stories #original writing #original characters #established couple #My writing #kyr&evander

[inevitablyuncertain]

pet headcanons idk

ashe: a little hedgehog. everyone teases her because “it’s prickly just like you” but everyone thinks its really cute

markus: one time he shooed inien’s cat away from a magpie and he’s been finding trinkets on his windowsill ever since so he either has a bird friend or he made an unintentional deal with a spirit. other than that though his responsibilities are focused on his imps

gregor: isn’t much one for pets but someone gets him a hermit crab that he pays very careful attention to and occasionally frets about if it’s happy or not

thog: not a pet person. barely a people person. and yet here he is, surrounded by all these people and their pets

kyr: kyr strikes me as a lizard kind of guy. he’s got a little gecko that chills around the non-explosive area of his workshop

inien: the mangiest ugliest most foul-tempered cat to exist. it’s less of a pet and more of a growly roommate. she names it Ash (”don’t give me that look, ashe, i named it that because it’s gray”)

firi: a tarantula named peach. that bar’s reactions on seeing it range from neutral to outright objections 

colvin: a parrot, it feels right. can you even imagine, inien would.. never come over (colvin: huuuuugh! parrot: rwaaaaaa!)

moren: moren loves dogs. specifically, he takes in every stray and rescue dog that he can

karen: she’s someone that has only ever has fish, but she takes meticulously good care of her fish, like, a huge aquarium, she takes better care of them than her employees

xin: an ant farm

#thrilling intent #i thought about it for a week but i couldn't decide on what pet markus would have #*shrug emoji* #**EDIT: oh my god colvin will look like a pirate! #ang ti tag

[speedygal]

Not a logical intervention - part 18

If someone had asked a Vulcan what their worst nightmares would be: They wouldn’t answer.

They would evade the question, complaining that there is ‘emotional’ connection to it and flip the question right back at them. Also, noting, that they don’t dream. Which was considered illogical since all beings dreamed. Vulcans, were largely considered illogical to the human species. A species that were, in turn, deemed illogical. Spock was debating, to himself, the argument of dreaming to distract himself from what he was in now. A living nightmare. He wondered to himself, do Vulcan’s dream? A thought that had lured Spock to sleep.

The Romulan Warbird trembled from side to side loudly. Add to the fact that he had fallen out of his resting position against the forcefield, it felt like a electrocution. Spock was jerked awake by the blast sent to the other side of the room. The force field was deactivated by the second blast. Spock was flung to his side against the rails. His long, boney fingers gripped onto the forcefields.  The ship tilted to the side. The Romulan warbird was engaged in battle with a opponent. Spock traveled forward shakingly getting to his feet as the ship slid sideways. The ship tilted back. His ribs ached from the sudden thrust against the wall.

Spock guided his way down the divided cell block. He flung himself forward onto a security console gripping onto the familiar technology that was so old and non-upgraded technology. There were no Romulan announcements. It was typical had Romulans refused to evacuate a ship. He guided himself around the station until he came to what felt a disruptor. One that he had held only once in Sela’s presence.  He can feel the hard surface, the familiar shape of the disruptors mouth, and the odd differences between phasers. The ship trembled once more. Spock was slid against the wall then gripped onto a console. The doors to his cell wooshed open.

Spock quickly turned in the direction of the automatic doors.

“Daeohre ,” Spock said. Freeze. “with your hands up, over your head, and step aside,” Spock heard the light footsteps walk aside. “stay there. . . are you the one who tortured me?” Spock fired above the Romulan’s helmet. “You shall answer me. . . Hravher ysrri arhva?" You torture me?

“Hia,” the Romulan finally said. No.

“Ifvhe Dhat irri hravher,” Spock said. then he pressed the trigger. Do not believe you.

Spock lowered his aim close to the man’s chest and fired. Only to hear the disruptor blast strike the wall rather than the Romulan. Spock turned firing  the disruptor in where he thought the soldier could be.  Spock was knocked to the floor with a stinging from his shoulder from the distruptor firing. He clenched his thin, painful arm wincing his eyes. He heard the Romulan’s footsteps coming toward him. He had lost his grip on the disruptor. He felt his blood steadily coming down his skin. He felt the circular, wide hole in his prison outfit controlling his physical reaction. The Romulan approached the older Vulcan.

“Hraen daehlen dhat chameto hravher,” the Romulan said. Your friend not defend  you. “Rruieh ifvhe tivh vr' kyr lep seijea.” Want to do this for some time.

“Ponfo Mirann,” Spock said, glaring in the direction of the Romulan’s voice. Go to hell.

It was one of Spock’s favorite phrases. Spock closed his eyes expecting for the fatal shot through the head by the disruptor beam. Instead, Spock heard the sound of a phaser shot.  And the sound of a body collapsing to the floor. Spock turned opening his eyes in the direction of who had fired the blow. He sensed a familiar presence speed through into the brig. The doors closing behind him as Spock had his back to the wall to the panel.

“Jim,” Spock said, painfully, as he heard the heavy footsteps come to his side. “How did you find me?”

“Spock,” Kirk’s voice was music to his ears. “You’re alive.” He felt the man’s fingers placed onto his own.  “Baby.” He heard the sound of a communicator flipped open. “Kirk to Shran, two to transport.”

Kirk closed the communicator placing it into his pocket. Spock felt Kirk’s familiar large hand squeeze his shoulder. A hand placed onto the side of the Vulcan’s long, weathered cheek moving to the psi-points, Spock felt his conscious wavering. A trail of warmth entered his mind: bright, golden loving hope and joy. Kirk was like the sun coming up from a long night that had been going for longer.  T’hy’la!  And then Spock slipped into the darkness out of pain.

#space fic #reunion fic #my fic

[katrani]

Miracle Romance 2: Reaction

“Markus? What’s going on?” Kyr’s voice made Markus look up, and he sprang away from the girl in front of him.

“I… It’s nothing,” he said, hurrying over to his boyfriend. “She’s just… She’s…” For once, he couldn’t think of what to say. The truth was too much to try and explain right now, but he couldn’t lie to Kyr.

The girl also looked stricken. She shook her head, and ran her hands through her hair as if she was trying to force her thoughts into place along with it. “Sorry. I thought he was someone else,” she said. “Don’t worry about it, please.”

Kyr glanced between the two of them. “This is weird,” he insisted. He looked down at Markus, gently grasping his hands. “Please tell me what’s going on? You never act like this.”

Markus looked over his shoulder at the red-haired girl once more, just in time to see the restaurant hostess- now in a white blouse, red skirt, and black vest, instead of her uniform- run up to her from the far side of the building. He shook his head, trying to put her out of his mind, and turned back to his own redhead. “Sorry, buddy. I guess it is weird,” he admitted. “Let’s just go eat our dinner, and I’ll try to figure this out.”

As they walked back inside, Kyr fussing over him, he told himself that he did not hear the girl’s car starting, that he did not care that she was driving away without him even knowing her name. It didn’t matter, not at all.

------

The door clunked as Ashe pulled on it, and she glared at the lock. “You are a jerk,” she grumbled at it, before leaning against the wall and staring at the list of names on the various condo doorbells. She should know which one to hit by memory, but instead it took a full minute before the letters came into focus and she could finally hit the right intercom.

“Thog! Thoooooog!” She let her forehead rest against the wall as she waited for him to buzz her in. “Thog, c’mon, let’s drink, like you and your frat used to!”

She looked up a minute later when the inner door opened. “Thog! Took you long enough, you asshole.”

Dark eyes stared at her, appraising her current appearance: flannel hanging off one shoulder, a bruise starting to show on one cheek, quarter-full bottle of vodka in one hand, phone in a death grip in the other. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Thog muttered, before stepping aside and waving her past him. “Let’s get you inside.”

He walked behind her as she made her way up the stairs to his condo, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moren was waiting at the top of the third flight, his hair ruffled as he nervously put his hand through it. “Geez Ashe, I thought you just had a date tonight. What happened?”

Ashe glanced at her phone, then up at both of them. “I fucked up,” she admitted. “Real bad. Firi probably won’t talk to me again.” Even though she was swaying on her feet, her speech was surprisingly unslurred. “So I went to take care of some things.”

“You mean you started a fight,” Thog said, giving her a slight nudge to actually get her inside their home. “At least you only took one punch, it looks like.”

“Of course!” Ashe gestured with the bottle in her hand as she flopped onto their couch. “Guy was too bulky. I’m way too fast for that kind of thing. Took forever to get him down though.”

Moren and Thog shared a look, before the blonde sat down next to Ashe, concern etched into his face. “Why don’t you tell us what happened,” he prompted, gently trying to take the bottle from her.

She jerked her hand away from him and took another swig. “Guess it can’t fucking hurt.” She leaned her head back on the couch, sighing. “I just- there was this guy, and he was… Right there! When I was supposed to pick up Firi, and he had all my attention- like, he’s important, I know he is, even though he isn’t, I’ve never seen the guy before in my life. And Firi and I still went out, but I just  couldn’t! Focus! On her!” Ashe leaned forward suddenly, her head to her knees as she let out a groan. “She’s the best person I’ve met in a while, and I totally ignored her because I was too wrapped up in my fucking dreams to talk to her properly. Fuck!”

Again, Thog and Moren shared a look, and Thog sat on Ashe’s other side. “I don’t quite get it,” he said, rubbing her back. “But I’m sure it’s fine. You two still spent some time together, right? Has she messaged you since then?” Ashe held up her phone without a word, and Thog took it so he could look at her texts, deciding against his usual warning that she really needed to set up a password.

I made it home alright. Tonight was nice. Thank you.

He grimaced, but decided to fib instead of being honest, for once. “Well she doesn’t say to leave her alone or anything, at least.”

Ashe merely groaned again. “This sucks! She didn’t even want a ride from me, she had one of her roommates pick her up. I’m telling you, I screwed up!”

“What about the guy? Do you even know his name?” Moren asked, clearly unsure of what to say.

Ashe shook her head, her ponytail finally coming loose and her hair collapsing in a puff around her head. “No! That’s just it- I’ve only seen him in those stupid dreams, and I can’t… But he knew who I was too, and I just- it’s so weird, and it sucks, and I hate it, and this is totally not what I need in my life right now!” She swore again, realizing she was starting to cry. “Dammit, I need to punch something else.” She started to stand, only for the guys to each grab one of her hands and pull her back down.

Thog glared at her as he pushed her back. “Sit,” he ordered. “I’m going to get you some water, and you’re going to drink it, and then you’re going to sleep. I’m going to text Inien, and we’ll all help you out- in the morning, understand? Nothing is getting resolved tonight, no matter what we do. So just sit, and get some rest, ‘cause that’s all you’re capable of right now. Got it?”

Ashe’s face scrunched up as she thought that over, but she couldn’t think of any arguments and had to nod. “Okay. I guess.” She took off her flannel, bundling it up in her lap and picking at some stray threads in it while Thog got her some water and Moren found their extra pillows and a blanket. “Thanks, guys,” she muttered as she lay down to sleep. “You’re both great.”

“See if you’re saying that in the morning,” Thog grumbled, though he had to fight to keep from smiling. “Good night, Ashe.”

“Night.”

They both headed to their room, and she curled up on the couch, still replaying the night’s events in her head. Meeting the tall blonde, her disastrous date with Firi, deciding to get drunk and then getting into a fight in the store’s parking lot, having to run off as cops were called. It was not at all what she expected, but then, when did things ever go according to plan for her?

She yawned and closed her eyes, sleep coming much more easily than she’d thought it would.

Eyes bore into her back. She tried not to fidget, knowing she had to wait. Only another minute in the prayers, another minute of focus, and then the night was hers. She’d be able to go and see him, and everything would be better.

Eternity stretched between seconds, until, finally, the head priest finished his call for aid and guidance to their god. She forced herself to stand up slowly, knowing that if she rushed off there would be too many questions, and she’d be forced to go through the purity rituals again- rituals that would keep her isolated for weeks.

“Sleep well, if the stars do not speak to you,” she said to the priest, who simply nodded at her in response. She left the shrine at a measured pace, but as soon as grass touched her feet she was running, the gems at her waist and in her hair clinking together as she rushed to the deepest parts of the palace.

He waited for her there, in a thick garden of a courtyard, a quill and book in his hands, an inkwell by his feet. He looked up as she skidded to a stop before him, her heart pounding both from seeing him and from her run, her smile shy as his face lit up.

“I didn’t think you would come here,” he said, setting his book on a low branch of the tree he sat under. He stood and embraced her, burying his face in her hair. She held onto him, glad for the feel of him, even the point of his horns as one of them pricked at the back of her head.

“Of course I would. I would never abandon you,” she promised. “Not after last time. I just had to wait until the nightly prayers were done.”

“I’m glad.” He straightened, his blue eyes staring down at her. She met his gaze, wanting to drown in them, but she knew their time was limited. Dawn already tinged the horizon, and this stolen moment was all they could have until tomorrow. He touched her face, as if he knew her thoughts, and she held onto him for as long as she could, until his own duties called him away with the sunrise.

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

Ashe rolled over as sunlight crossed her face, letting out a small moan. Her head was pounding and her throat felt sticky and dusty. She blinked, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, before looking to her right and seeing the familiar red fabric that was Thog and Moren’s couch. As soon as she recognized it, the previous night came flooding back to her, and she let out another groan, this time accompanied by a string of swears.

“I know it’s not that comfortable, but that’s no reason to be mad at it,” Thog drawled from somewhere across the room. “I’m surprised you’re up so early.”

Ashe turned to glare at him, ignoring the pulsing in her head that followed the sudden movement. “Yeah well, I’m not the one with a huge window right in front of my couch.”

Thog shrugged. “It looks neat, though, and lets people be sociable if they’re out on the porch.”

She snorted at that. “Sure, your ‘porch’.” She looked at the tiny balcony, with the two yard chairs and a grill carefully squeezed onto it. “Still can’t believe you two haven’t set the building on fire yet.”

“And I’m surprised that I’m willing to get you breakfast,” he said. “Or anything else, really. Here, you’re welcome.” He tossed something at her.

Ashe caught it, clumsily, and realized it was her phone- fully charged. “Thanks,” she said, quickly checking it. Two texts- one from Firi, one from Inien. With a grimace, she opened the one from Firi first:

You seemed v distracted last night. Just a reminder that I’m free on Sunday, if you want to hang out then.

She bit back a happy yell, a smile lighting her face. Firi wasn’t completely mad at her! She wanted to go out again! Ashe texted her back, saying that she’d definitely plan something, and apologizing for being so out of it last night. Then she looked at Inien’s message, and her heart skipped a beat.

Hey, did you meet a stick of a blond guy last night? Blue eyes, lightweight as all hell? Cause a mutual posted this and I think it might be you. I know this guy lives in our city at least. velieveit.tumblr.com/post/190465124093

She clicked the link, tapping her foot impatiently as her phone struggled to find a proper signal. “Come on already….”

Finally, it loaded, and she was left staring at a text post, simple text, but it seemed like the most important thing in the world.

i rly need to make a dream journal. this shit is ridiculous. she was there. right! there!!! red and green instead of silver and gold, flannel instead of robes. she was even in my arms. but i couldn’t believe it, and i felt so bad for keying up the fella’s anxiety

(speaking of, look at this hunk! he fixed our bedframe last night! only good thing about it, cuz i am hella confuse about the rest fam)

There was a picture below it, of the big guy from the restaurant last night the one that had come to find the blonde, his sleeves rolled up and a few tools across a hardwood floor in front of him as he knelt next to a twin bed, a blush covering his face as he tried to hide behind his hands and fend the camera off.

Ashe stared at the picture, trying to be sure, trying to not feel weird. That was definitely the redhead, which meant the poster had to be the blonde- the one that looked so much like her dreams, except for his lack of horns and armor. And he knew her too. So she had to, right?

Right?

Her finger hovered over the message button, debating with herself while she heard Thog and Moren both bustling about in their kitchen and the smell of breakfast started to fill the air. She should just ignore, just forget it happened, apologize to Firi and deal with all of this, shouldn’t she? But the mystery would bug her if she didn’t, and- what were the odds that he lived in her city? That they were even close enough to have bumped into each other in the first place? She took a deep breath, and tapped the little envelope icon.

#miracle romance #tifanart #thrilling intent #fanfic #writings #ashe/markus #markyr #fishe

[sunvcincd-blog]

#can i get Kyrs reaction to someone other than kyr or rue smooching this god pls#i wanna see kyr.get jelly#that would be amusing for me#yes

@palecreme ask and thou shalt recieve B)

#━☀ ooc ›› sʜᴜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴋɪᴛ!