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mikasleaf · 21 days

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YO CHALLENGE TO CELEBRATE THE TURTLES'S 40 YEARS! LETS HAVE A T-MAY-NT

Hi fellow shellheads! Since we have this special date coming upon us! This may 5th will be the 40th anniversary of the creation of our beloved turtles! So i wanted to make something special, an inktober but turtles themed! and I also don't think it needs to be only an art challenge,many of the prompts I shared could also be completed just sharing a picture or something! But the idea is to fill all kinds of platforms with our turtle boys! I already got a lot thought out but I know many of you may have great ideas that im missing, I'm gonna share the prompts on my art profile and stuff, but of course I'll credit you if with the username you choose if I include one of your prompts! Here's what I have so far, any suggestions on prompts or prompt orders will be welcomed of course!

Also like inktober I'm pointing to have a version of the challenge where you just draw 1 prompt a week and just answer the rest

Okay now, here they are:

1. Your Favorite turtle(-)

2.Favorite turtle merch/toy that you own

3.Favourite lesson

4.fav low ranking villain!

5.Favorite turtle curseword!

6. Favorite April!

7. Fav splinter

8. Favorite shredder

9.Favorite villain!

10. Favorite ally!

11. Favorite ship!

13. Baby turtles!

12. Favorite pizza toppings! And who'd like it the best?

13. Best leo (from all incarnations)

14. Best raph (from all incarnations)

15. Best Donnie (from all incarnations)

16. Best Mikey from all incarnations

17. FAV turtle Duo!(of 2)

19. Turtles in their 40's

18. Favorite episode (from any series)

19. Favorite movie

20. Favorite rivalry (Turtle+Villain Dynamic)

21. Favorite turtle + ally dynamic

22. Favorite opening or t

23.fav High ranking villain

24.Human turtles!(-)

25.favourite alternative outfit or design

26.Favorite turtle curse!

27. If you were a mutant! What would you be?

28. best gadget/vehicle

29. fave turtle video game

30. best Casey jones

31. best karai!

32.your turtle Sona!

33.Favorite opening or theme song

34.Human turtles!(-)

35.If you were another kind of mutant(not turtle) What would you be?

36.best gadget/vehicle

37.fave game

38.One of the three oldest versions of the turtles (1984, 1987 or 1991)

Which ones do you vote out? All feedback you can give will be welcome!

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puppetmaster13u · 5 months

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One-Word Prompts

Mostly for DC, DCxDP, or DP, but can be used for any sort of fandom or original world as well. Go wild! (Each day has two prompts to choose from, feel free to skip or use something else if you don't like something!)

Day 01: Enigma | Silence

Day 02: Celebrate | Pet

Day 03: Gods | Ghosts

Day 04: Family | Alone

Day 05: Hope | Courage

Day 06: Wings | Nest

Day 07: Levitate | Melody

Day 08: Spectrum | Overwhelmed

Day 09: Fire | Gun

Day 10: Mystery | Birthday

Day 11: Ice | Heat

Day 12: Night | Day

Day 13: Hurt | Brick

Day 14: Picnic | Shadows

Day 15: Gargoyle | Rain

Day 16: Fangs | Claws

Day 17: Cat | Dog

Day 18: High | Beacon

Day 19: Free | Fault

Day 20: Formula | Smile

Day 21: Sand | Leaf

Day 22: Songbird | Glass

Day 23: Home | Friday

Day 24: Lurk | Charm

Day 25: Reflection | Teeth

Day 26: Witness | Haunt

Day 27: Scar | Rest

Day 28: Drive | Safe

Day 29: Picture | Shatter

Day 30: Wish | Forgive

Day 31: Risky | Invite

Day 32: Trust | Dance

Day 33: Focus | Kiss

Day 34: Neglect | Connection

Day 35: Solitude | Bone

Day 36: Cook | Crystal

Day 37: Stare | Clouds

Day 38: Luck | Wander

Day 39: Mimic | Visit

Day 40: Dig | Blade

Day 41: Radio | Friendly

Day 42: Letter | Glasses

Day 43: Slump | Snack

Day 44: Vault | Candy

Day 45: Wreck | Ancient

Day 46: Sweater | Tarot

Day 47: Circus | Missing

Day 48: Quarrel | Dance

Day 49: Hug | Cry

Day 50: Disaster | Fireflies

Day 51: Explosion | Injury

Day 52: Meeting | Stars

Day 53: Invisible | Drift

Day 54: Aura | Mind

Day 55: Worry | Guilt

Day 56: Train | Tranquill

Day 57: Rescue | Enemy

Day 58: Breathless | Wave

Day 59: Glow | Explore

Day 60: Flashlight | Lightning

Day 61: Portal | Alarm

Day 62: Fantasy | Orbit

Day 63: Blue | Compromised

Day 64: Grave | Stain

Day 65: Friend | Dreams

Day 66: Exhaustion | Loss

Day 67: Love | Present

Day 68: Chaos | Glitter

Day 69: Rebel | Camp

Day 70: Empty | Beauty

Day 71: Book | Doodle

Day 72: Solitude | Prophecy

Day 73: Lie | Treasure

Day 74: Lost | Cold

Day 75: Crime | Cut

Day 76: Sick | Haunt

Day 77: Task | Glory

Day 78: Chain | Machine

Day 79: Shiver | Outlaw

Day 80: Hospital | Fragile

Day 81: Drink | Fight

Day 82: Stiff | Smoke

Day 83: Green | Blood

Day 84: Faith | Vision

Day 85: Whistle | Fog

Day 86: Hide | Window

Day 87: Breath | Crawl

Day 88: Trap | Armor

Day 89: Antidote | Splinter

Day 90: Race | Piano

Day 91: Border | Electrical

Day 92: Savor | Phantom

Day 93: Evening | Spell

Day 94: Unknown | Chase

Day 95: Hold | Disconnect

Day 96: War | Fall

Day 97: Party | Blood

Day 98: Thrive | Goodbye

Day 99: Mask | Fear

Day 100: Youth | Journey

#prompts #100 days challenge #100 day prompts #writing prompts #art prompts #drawing prompts #dailyprompt #batman au #danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #once again can be used for any fandom #dc #dcu #batman

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tmntheadcanons · 2 months

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Hi! 🖖🏻

Can I ask abt morning routine from tmnt 2003? It maybe fun,if Leo and Mikey are morning persons and Raph and Donny more like owls 🥲

or just Mikey is morning happy boy 😁

Thank you! 🍀

I'm so sorry this took so long! I was out of town for all of January and then I got swamped with school and work. But I love this prompt so much! In these head canons I'm assuming this is on average days where they aren't on late night patrols or anything. Just more casual days.

Leonardo:

Leo goes to bed (or at least falls asleep) late. But he is usually the first to get up in the morning.

I feel like Leo enjoys the quiet first thing in the morning. He likes to get up, make tea and just relax in the living room for like half an hour before anyone else gets up.

He might slip outside for a little bit and watch the sunrise while it's still quiet out.

Tea is his preference for a morning drink but he'll take coffee if he's really tired.

First thing in the morning Leo is usually pretty calm and relaxed. I feel like he might even be more sociable in the morning. Like if someone is up at the same time as him he'll suggest they go out and watch the sunrise together and hang out for a bit.

As a kid, the morning is when Leo got a lot of one on one time with Splinter. He and Splinter would be the first ones up, Splinter would make him tea and breakfast and they would talk. So mornings are kind of domestic and peaceful for Leo.

He wakes up around 6-7. Maybe even as early at 5 depending on how late he was up the previous night.

Raphael:

Usually wakes up to the sound of his family being loud.

If left to his own devices he would naturally wake up at around 10, but he's a light sleeper so he's up around the time Leo, Splinter and Mikey start making noise.

The first thing he does is go and eat breakfast. He just heads straight for whatever Mikey just made and if Mikey didn't make anything then it's cereal straight out of the box for Raph.

Raph isn't cranky in the morning he's actually pretty quiet. He just wanders into the kitchen, casually grunts to announce he is awake, eats his breakfast and lets his brain catch up with him.

Once he is awake enough he'll usually go and do a pre-training work out to get warmed up.

Wakes up at around 8:30-9.

Donatello:

He sets 10 different alarms and he might actually get out of bed at alarm #7.

He violently rolls over, slams his snooze button and goes right back to bed. The movement is so swift now the alarm will only go off for a second so it doesn't wake up the entire house (Not that it matters because he is probably the last on up anyway)

Doesn't even wipe the crust out of his eyes before he is checking his phone.

Donatello is actually the one who is cranky in the morning. If he is awoken before his alarm there will be bloodshed.

He won't be functional for at least 15 minutes right after he wakes up. He makes a beeline for the kitchen, gets coffee and just sits at the table and stares into his mug.

He gets up at 9:30 exactly because that's the latest splinter will let him sleep in for before he starts making comments about the importance of a balanced sleep schedule.

But the day after late night missions he will sleep until 1 pm no problem.

Michelangelo:

Mikey is naturally a morning person. Even when he is up late he rarely sleeps in past 9.

When Mikey was a kid, all the good cartoons were on first thing in the morning. Also Splinter let him watch tv before training so the earlier he was up, the more he could watch. So that trained Mikey to be up when the sun comes up

Mikey's mornings are slow and relaxing. He gets up, wanders down into the kitchen and starts making breakfast. He will throw on some coffee and he'll cook for everybody. Then when he is done he will grab a blanket, sit on the couch and watch cartoons while he eats breakfast. (He never grew out of loving a good morning cartoon)

His usual breakfasts are pancakes, scrambled eggs, waffles, french toast and bacon he likes something sweet in the morning.

Also I bet he puts a ton of cream and sugar in his coffee.

He's upbeat in the morning and he's probably pretty loud. His brothers will wake up to the sound of loud singing and dishes clanging in the kitchen.

On average he wakes up at around 7-8.

#thanks for the ask!#tmnt 2003 headcanons #tmnt 2003 #tmnt headcanons #tmnt #tmnt 2003 michelangelo #tmnt 2003 raphael #tmnt 2003 leonardo #tmnt 2003 donatello

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tildeathiwillwrite · 12 days

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The Lodge

(Trials of the Six, Chapter 1 Scene 1)

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 14 (2nd Iteration): (Alt) Amnesia, Poison

Whumpril Day 30 ("Out of Time")

WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

TW: unconsciousness, amnesia, fighting, blood, stab wounds, death, cornered, poison, headache, dizziness

So… fun fact: @whumperofworlds and I share a birth month! Hers was on the 11th, and mine is today! So in addition to Day 14’s contribution, here’s a snippet using one of the alt prompts for one of my personal favorite whump tropes: amnesia, with the first character I ever gave it to, Hiel.

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“Get up, kid.” A man’s voice, rough and distant.

“Come on, wake up!” A woman’s voice, soft and frantic.

A hard slap sent sharp pain across his face. His eyes snapped open. He lay on the floor of a wooden lodge, where a roaring hearth lit the scene with warm light. A woman crouched over him, exhaling in relief when his eyes opened.

“By the skies, Hiel! Don’t scare us like that!” She rocked back onto her heels, brushing red-blonde hair away from her face.

Hiel pushed himself into a seated position, dizzy. “What… what happened?” Something large and furry pushed against him, and he turned his head to find a giant cat, as long as he was tall, nudging his arm with her nose. He hesitantly petted the fur behind her head.

“When I get my hands on that woman, she’ll wish she’d never been born!” Hiel flinched at the sharp tone from someone he hadn’t noticed, a man with dark hair and beard who leaned over a table on the opposite end of the one-room lodge, arms folded.

“Korfel,” the woman began, getting to her feet, “Elya is gone. No clue where, but we accomplish nothing dwelling on the past.”

The man’s name was Korfel. Why did Hiel not know that? Why didn’t he know his own name until the woman addressed him as Hiel? “What’s going on?”

The woman turned to him, surprise and confusion in her expression. “What do you mean?”

Hiel rubbed his aching temples. “I… I don’t know anything.”

“You mean you… don’t remember?” She cursed when he nodded hesitantly. “Now I want to murder a healer.”

Korfel scowled. “Just what we need,” he muttered angrily. “Can you still freeze things? Fight?”

“I freeze things?” The space behind Hiel’s eyes started throbbing. He pressed a hand to his eyes in a crude attempt to soothe the aching. “Why does my head hurt so much?”

“Probably a side effect of the "medicine"—" Jarsali traced air quotes around the word— "Elya gave you. You were out for several minutes before we noticed something was wrong.”

Hiel struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on a nearby chair. “Who are you people?” he demanded, panic rising.

The woman shifted away from him slightly, unnerved. “Well, I’m Jarsali. The angry one is Korfel. You’re Hiel, and the giant fanged simoldon is Nial, your pet… cat…thing?”

She was about to say something else before the door burst open. Two people ran inside. A pale man with blue hair was first, heavily favoring his leg. Right behind him was a dark-skinned woman who slammed the door behind her. They both carried packs that seemed to have been filled in a hurry.

Korfel shoved a chair under the knob. “I asked you to get supplies, not have the whole town up in arms!”

The woman held her hands up defensively. “They attacked us first!” She flinched at the look Korfel gave her and the blue-haired man. Muffled shouting came from outside the lodge, and Hiel realized that asking who these new people were right now was not the best move.

The door shook as someone from the other side kicked it. Korfel cursed under his breath and grabbed a curved sword from where it had rested on the table. The new woman tossed her bag on the floor and drew a thin obsidian knife, and Jarsali snatched up a quarterstaff from where it leaned against the wall.

The chair splintered with a crack, and the door flew open, sending it across the room and narrowly missing Hiel. Warriors in leather armor brandishing spears poured inside, engaging the defenders. Korfel charged those in front, knocking spears aside and slashing wildly at their owners.

Jarsali swung her staff at the leg of the closest warrior with such speed Hiel briefly lost track of it. With a sickening snap, the warrior collapsed to the floor, moaning and clutching his broken knee. Nial used his body as a springboard to get to the one behind him, claws out and snarling viciously.

Hiel backed away, feeling incredibly useless. Even if he remembered how to fight, there was no way he’d be able to do any good in this state. He noticed that the blue-haired man hung back as well, though he seemed like he’d be more formidable even with his injured leg.

A warrior somehow got past the combined strength of Jarsali, Korfel, and Nial. He charged straight at Hiel, who stumbled away so the chair he was leaning on was between him and the attacker. The warrior kicked aside the chair with ease and charged.

Before he could get any closer, the woman with the knife darted inside his reach and thrust it into a seam in his armor. He stumbled back, clutching at the wound. The woman was relentless, pressing him back and baiting him. The warrior overextended his spear, and the woman slipped within his reach, driving her knife through his throat. He collapsed, blood bubbling from the fatal wound.

“You’re welcome,” the woman said as she passed him, wiping her knife off with her skirt and dashing towards the wall. She ran her fingers across the wooden panels, searching for something. Hiel picked up a leg from the broken chair and watched her curiously, keeping a wary eye on the battle.

The woman tapped along the seams between panels, eyes narrowed. Another warrior got past the others and ran straight for the woman, whose back was to him. He would have stabbed her through the heart with his spear, but he instead inexplicably flew backward, right into the spear of one of his allies.

Korfel quickly finished them both off with a well-placed slash. “We're out of time, Raiann!” he shouted as he engaged another.

“Almost!” Raiann dug her knife in between two panels and pried one away, revealing sunlight and a snow-covered landscape. A river flowed nearby, with a boat moored to a small dock. The boat’s sail was tied down, it wasn't going anywhere quickly. A cold wind gusted through the opening as Raiann pulled off another board and sheathed her blade. “We’ve got to go!”

The blue-haired man limped past Raiann and stumbled over the threshold of the impromptu back door. She caught his arm and helped him down, taking on some of his weight and half-dragging him towards the boat. Hiel glanced at the warriors trying to force their way to the front, unable to get past Jarsali or Korfel.

“They’re escaping out the back!” One of them shouted, seeing the opening.

Korfel cursed and retreated. The tip of his blade dropped to the ground, and he reached out his hand. The ground below their feet rumbled as his expression calmed, but his eyes burned with anger.

Nial sprang back towards Hiel and stood before him protectively. Hiel hesitated for only a second before staggering towards the opening in the wall. With a light “mrrp?” noise, Nial leaped through onto the snow after him. Hiel shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as the giant cat accompanied his stumbling steps to the boat that bobbed in the river.

He clambered on the boat and leaned heavily on the railing, the dizziness returning in full force. Nial moved to his side and settled down next to him. Jarsali, staff in hand, leaped onto the deck and dropped it with a clatter onto the deck. She shoved a bundle of heavy cloth at Hiel as she faced the stern. “As soon as Korfel gives the signal, be ready to move this rig!”

Hiel unfolded the heavy cloth to find it was a thick coat. He pulled it on gratefully and opened his mouth to thank Jarsali. But before the words could form, the lodge shuddered violently.

The small boat rocked as the water began to swirl around. Hiel flinched and grasped at the side of the boat for dear life as Korfel appeared through the opening, running at a full sprint to the boat.

He threw himself over the railing and shouted something unintelligible as the lodge shook like an earthquake was assaulting it. The sounds of rushing water filled Hiel’s ears, and the boat suddenly accelerated, moving downstream at an impossible speed. The last glimpse Hiel had of the lodge before it was out of sight was the walls collapsing in on itself, warriors fleeing the falling building.

@fourwingedsnake @whumpril @pigeonwhumps

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aversiteespabilas · 7 months

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So we've been discussing how the amazing supporting cast in Rise doesn't get nearly as much recognition as they deserve. That's why I thought about doing a no-turtle October challenge! These will be my prompts, just in case anyone else feels like jumping in. They're not the most evocative or poetic but I like to get to the point hahaha!

Transcript of the list under the cut.

NO-TURTLE RISETOBER

1. Splinter 2. Draxum 3. April 4. Warren Stone 5. Hypno 6. Meat Sweats 7. Repo Mantis 8. Todd 9. Hueso 10. Sunita 11. Cassandra 12. Foot agents 13. Mrs Cuddles 14. Ghostbear 15. Crab brothers 16. Big Mama 17. Mayhem 18. Casey Jr. 19. DIGG 20. Albearto 21. Stockboy 22. Purple Dragons 23. Bullhop 24. Shelldon 25. Hunin & Munin 26. Piel 27. A bg yokai design I liked 28. A creature design I liked 29. The krang 30. Shreddy 31. Lou Jitsu

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #art prompt #risetober #october challenge #october art challenge #rottmnt yokai #no -turtle risetober

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immajustvibehere · 2 years

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❛ i never quite realised how lovely you could be. ❜ please? Female reader if possible

The Caretaker

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

oneshot, seperated in three parts, but you find all of them under the cut

summary: You join the gang shortly before the Blackwater masacre and quickly find comfort in the gang's enforcerer, Arthur Morgan. Even you seem to catch his eye, as he starts to flatter you with little gifts. When he flees from the O'Driscolls, you have the honor of taking care of him.

masterlist here!

When I finished the story I realised that part 1 & 2 are actually useless backstory. If you want to read a 10 minutes fluff (& mild hurt & comfort) just scroll down to Part 3! (This also includes the requested prompt) :D

5000 words, 30 minutes reading time

or 1800 words, 10 minutes reading time (if you skip to Part 3)

Part 1 - Exposition

You had become a part of the gang when they were camping near Blackwater. It was sheer coincidence that you ran into them, but every day you felt grateful that you did. Your father had kicked you out for - as you felt, and Dutch had agreed with you - unjustified reasons. Your parents had an outdated understanding of honor, which you found quite repulsive. Your dream was to work and earn money, if possible in an occupation where you could help people or change something for the better; but your parents cherished the idea of you becoming a housewife to a reputable man. As soon as you were of age, there was talk of finding you a good match and securing you a fine husband. No matter how much you pleaded that you'd rather work at your father's apothecary, even if it was just sweeping the floors, and marry someone you actually liked, your parents had set their mind to execute their plan of your future.

Maybe it's fair to say that it wasn't your father who "kicked" you out. Rather, in a fight where both of you had gotten louder, he had said something along the lines of ‘if you wanted to bring dishonor to this family, do it without us knowing and piss off’. This is what you did. And barely a few hours had passed when you met Dutch at the saloon. Dutch bought you a couple of drinks and before you knew it, he had teased out every last bit of your life's story and assessed the value you could bring to his gang. When he asked you if you were okay with living in a gang of murderers and bandits (he had phrased prettier) you had been too drunk to fully understand what you were getting into. An hour later and sobered up from the ride on Dutch's horse, you found yourself in a camp full of outlaws.

Over the next couple of days, you slowly got to know everyone. The first night you slept under the open sky was terrible. You feared that you had made a terrible mistake and would end up abused and eventually dead; but over the next couple of days, you learned that most people were very kind. The girls immediately welcomed you and after a week you already felt accepted in your new family. Dutch put you in charge for the management of the medical supplies and in general as someone capable of patching the men up if they needed it. Despite your father denying your official help in his pharmacy, you had learned a lot just by hanging around, watching and listening. You knew how to do stitches and you could bring down a fever in a couple of hours. Treating Jack's splinters, disinfecting wounds after someone had been in a bar fight or dealing with snake bites was of no challenge to you.

However, there wasn't much time to get comfortable. Barely two weeks after you had been welcomed in the gang, you had to flee. It was the messiest escape anyone could have pulled off. You had to admit that you again had regrets when you quickly packed everything valuable that couldn't be left behind onto the wagons, trembling hands making it difficult to make firm knots. "I got this, go help Tilly!", a stern voice appeared behind you. You were carefully pushed away by Arthur's hands on your shoulders. For you, this was the moment when you properly noticed him for the first time. You had been introduced, of course, but Arthur had seemed absent-minded, and his nod of recognition had been a bit too cold for you to think that he was too happy of having you in the gang. But when you had let go of the rope you had tried to knot together and looked up to Arthur, nothing could have been more reassuring in this moment than his gentle gaze on you. He was a valuable member of the gang and though everyone in the gang seemed to converse and interact on eye-level, you sensed Arthur's high status. He didn't have Dutch's charm or Hosea's creativity, but in a way he had enough of both, additionally to the force and strength to bend things to his liking. Arthur still was somewhat of a mystery to you but being recognized and acknowledged by him in the way of grounding hands on your shoulder and a simple demand suddenly made it easier to approach him.

The following days were rough. You had to flee into the mountains and a snowstorm was making sure that your progress was slow, cold and painful. Never before had you experienced so much death. You had lost Jenny and Mac, Davey was groaning and dying in the same wagon you were sitting in with Abigail, Jack and Tilly. Besides your trembling hands and your inexperience when it came to fatal gun wounds, you treated Davey as well as you could. Still, everyone knew that he didn't have long. Even though Arthur was regularly tasked with scouting ahead, every time he returned, he would stop by at the wagon you were in, inquire about Davey and ask if you were warm enough. Everyone was freezing, but this was a question of survival, rather than comfort. Even when you had arrived in Colter, it seemed like Arthur made an extra effort to make sure you had food and weren't cold. Back then, you attributed this additional attention to him realizing how freaked out you were and having lost people who could have been considered in your care.

Things started to change when you reached Horseshoe Overlook. While you had been treated with care, so you wouldn't be scared off, Miss Grimshaw did everything to put you to work from this point onwards. You - and the other girls - worked yourself sore with chores all day long. You rose early and went to bed sometimes before the sun was fully set. There was a lot to do, now that you had found a place where you could stay for a while. Arthur greeted you occasionally, but there wasn't the same care or concern on his face like it was in the mountains. You made it your task to observe Arthur more closely. It painfully reminded you that you still were in a camp full of outlaws, bad men and degenerates.

Arthur's as well as the other men's cruel remarks towards Kieran, who you fully believed hadn't done anything wrong and was misjudged by most of the gang, disgusted you. You treated Kieran's rashes on his wrists when the ropes had cut into them or cared about him staying hydrated. For you, there was nothing funny about hearing Arthur's or Sadie's insults that were thrown at this man. Also, even though you didn't specifically kept count, Arthur returned with scratches or black eyes more than anyone else in the gang. He wouldn’t even let you treat them, dismissing you with a sarcastic: "Very kind of you Miss y/n, but I'm fine."

The harder you tried, the less you understood Arthur. The deep understanding you seemed to have of him in the cold slipped away with every day you heard more about what he was getting up to when he left the camp for a day’s work. It was tricky forming an opinion of him. One evening he returned and tells everyone how he and Micah shot up half of Strawberry, the next day he makes your heart flutter when he heaves Jack onto his horse to take him fishing. Anyways, you never saw too much of him. He was often riding out and even if he returned at night, you'd be in bed, exhausted from doing the dishes and patching up pants and boots.

One evening, you were getting ready for bed and finishing up your last chore of the day, feeding the chicken, when Arthur approached you.

"Y/N", he greeted you. This wasn't unusual. He did greet you from time to time, but he'd often stick to a nod and your name, sometimes a "good morning" and then he would go on, doing whatever he had set his mind on doing that day.

"Evening, Mr. Morgan." Honestly, how you addressed him changed according to your mood. You had called him by his first name before, and sometimes you would go back to calling him sir. Recently, you had started to notice that he called you by your first name when nobody was around. Hence, him calling you like that right now. You preferred it. Your family had raised you to be courteous to people who you weren't properly acquainted with or were of higher rank, and you struggled to shake off the old habit.

"How have ya been holdin' up?", he asked, lighting a cigarette and watching you spread the corns.

"Fine. It's a lot of work but...I prefer this side of the country. I didn't like the dry and brown grass around Blackwater. Washing dishes is not so bad when you can sit in green grass doing it, I suppose", you smiled. You swiped the last grains off your hands and turned around to face Arthur, who was watching you attentively. A few moments passed in silence before the man stirred into action again. With the cigarette loosely resting on his lips, he started fumbling around in his satchel.

"Tha's right. Wanted to give ya something", he mumbled. You watched how the cigarette danced on his lips, never falling but threatening to, if the smoker showed a second of negligence. "Here ya go", Arthur pulled your attention from his lips away to a bear claw on a string, which he now dangled in front of your eyes. The claw was huge, about the same size as your middle finger, and on one side there was a fine engraving of a bear. "Is this-?", you wanted to ask when you took the claw into your hand.

"The bear I shot with Hosea", Arthur answered. He had returned with some nasty scratches about a week ago after his hunting trip with Hosea. This was pretty much the only time he let you patch him up, probably because he couldn't have reached some of those wounds on his back himself. "For yer trouble", he added. You smiled and felt your cheeks get warm. This was a fine gift. "Thank you!"

"Sure", Arthur almost dismissed it, "if ya don't like it, it should be worth something. I commissioned a fence with the engraving. He probably got it done for way under the market price."

"Oh, I won't sell this", you quickly stated, "it's a beautiful reminder that even you sometimes need some assistance." Arthur clicked his tongue, his lips curled into a slight smile. "If ya say so."

Part 2 - Little Gifts

As soon as you were used to and had learned to appreciate Horseshoe Overlook, Dutch, John and Arthur were chased out of Valentine by the law and returned with a shot Strauss in tow. Apparently, a man whose train they had robbed a couple weeks back had located them in Valentine and a shoot-out had happened. While you patched up Strauss with gentle care; since he wasn't as rough and thick-skinned like the rest of the men, there was talk of moving. You had witnessed some detectives suddenly standing in the middle of your camp a few days prior, so you imagined that a change of location was appropriate anyways. In the evening of the same day, the gang had reached Lemoyne and settled on a piece of land called Clemens Point. Though the move and packing weren’t as stressful as the time you left Blackwater, with bullets flying past your ears, you were drained after you had done your bit of preparing the new spot for the first night. Later, you completely passed out on your mattress, before you even noticed that Arthur had tried talking to you.

"Y/n!", Arthur called on you after you had dressed for the day and finished your cup of coffee. You looked up to locate where his voice had come from, but Arthur was already approaching you from his tent. He was neatly dressed in a shirt you hadn’t seen him wear before. The new shirt was probably due to his other one being stained with blood from yesterday – not his own blood, he had assured you after he had returned from Valentine and you had given him a quizzical look.

"Good morning", you offered him a kind smile. The morning air was still fresh, and the birds were slowly waking up, chirping and singing. It was marvelous watching them fly low over the lake to catch bugs. Arthur and you were two of a handful of people who were already awake, the rest was still resting from the demanding relocation.

"Ya ever seen real gold", Arthur asked.

"Hmm", you had to think for a second before you answered, "Don't think so. In a coin, maybe."

"Look at that", Arthur pulled out a gold ingot about the size of your hand.

"Wow", your mouth was agape, "That's worth a lot, isn't it?"

Arthur nodded and proceeded to tell you the story about the Germans, whose father he and Charles had saved. While he told you this story, you thought about how this was the longest he had ever spoken to you, and you enjoyed every second of it. He let you hold the ingot, which you carefully weighed in your hand and looked for your vague reflection in the polished metal.

Over the next couple of days, you noticed Arthur's attempts of starting a conversation with you. You were always happy about the attention and even happier when Arthur started to bring you little things he found on his journeys. One day it was a beautiful songbird feather, the next it was a violet snowdrop, a handful of blackberries he had picked or an extra bar of chocolate he had "accidentally" purchased. It had almost become a ritual: Whenever you saw Arthur returning to camp, you’d walk up to him, greet him with a “you should hurry before all the stew’s gone” and he would jump off his horse and make you blush with a “I got something for you”.

You brought it up one afternoon, when you sat in a circle with the girls, all of you busy with another piece of clothing that needed patching.

"I never expected Arthur to be so kind to women. First, I thought he hated me because he was so cold and distant, but now he started bringing me stuff almost every day", you introduced the topic.

"Kind to women?", Tilly asked, a cheeky smile already forming on her lips.

"Yes. He does bring you flowers too, doesn't he?", you asked, still in the belief that you weren't an exception when it came to Arthur's attention.

"Oh, of course", Tilly joked, "look at this basket full of flowers Arthur gave me over the last couple of weeks." She nodded towards the empty laundry basket. The girls giggled at your confusion, but Mary-Beth didn't want to tease you for long.

"Arthur has maybe brought me...one gift ever. And this was months ago. He likes you, y/n. We thought you had noticed!", Mary-Beth explained. You blushed at the topic of your discussion. "You think so?", you quickly asked, more due to a lack of having nothing else to say.

"We know so", Mary-Beth confirmed.

"And we know that you like him back", Tilly added.

"I do!?", you asked, trying to hide your red cheeks by looking down at the shirt you were mending.

"I'm sure the way you blush and smile every time you see him or treasure every gift, he gives you does not indicate any affection whatsoever", Mary-Beth teased.

"But- Arthur never said anything-", you stuttered.

"Neither did you!", Tilly interrupted.

You grumbled in defeat. Apparently, it was obvious that you liked Arthur and that Arthur liked you. Now you only had to find a way to resolve all of this. You thought about his higher status in the gang and how new you still were. Would it be even appropriate to approach him about that? Surely not. And what if the girls had it wrong and he was just...being kind, so you would feel at home after the uncomfortable start you had had. Your thoughts were interrupted by Dutch who yelled out "Gentlemen? Like Colm O'Driscoll?"

"They want a parley? It's a trap", Hosea chipped in from across camp. You and the girls weren't the only ones whose attention was caught by the conversation. Some of the men, including Arthur, gathered around a table in a livid discussion. Two minutes later, you saw Arthur, Micah and Dutch mounting their horses to ride out.

"What was that about?", Karen wondered.

"I don't even want to know", Mary-Beth sighed.

Your eyes however were fixed on Arthur's back which slowly disappeared in the shadow of the trees.

Micah and Dutch returned the same night, without Arthur. You were in no position to ask what had happened, but from Dutch's expression you could tell that it surely didn't go according to plan. Over the next two days, nobody wondered where Arthur was. When you asked, out of concern and worry, the replies were similar to "probably out looking for a lead", but deep down you knew this wasn't true. Even though you still worked yourself sore every day, you stayed up late, hoping you'd catch Arthur in case he returned at night.

On the third night it paid off. You weren't the only one who noticed the slouched rider who fell from his horse when it arrived in camp. But when Karen, Mary-Beth and Dutch approached the figure now stretched out on the floor, you already knew exactly what was going on.

"Miss Grimshaw, I need help! Reverend Swanson! Miss y/l/n!", Dutch yelled.

You jumped up and joined the group of people forming a circle around Arthur. He leaned on Pearson's support, Dutch leading him to his cot. His union suit and weapon's belt were the only thing he wore, and on his shoulder, you saw an evil looking wound. You could tell, though the light was only dim, that Arthur was in a horrible condition. Maybe not fatal, but the state he was in clearly wasn’t a comfortable one. The warmth drained from you fingertips, the realization that a man who could probably handle a broken nose with a shrug and a bottle of whiskey could barely stand, let alone walk, shocked you.

"You're safe now, Arthur. You're safe now", Dutch repeated. A bit of anger arose in you as you ran to the medical wagon to gather everything you'd need for proper first aid. You were sure that Dutch’s and Micah’s negligence had brought this upon Arthur.

"That's pretty, Dutch", Arthur coughed as he fell onto his cot, "that's real pretty."

Dutch looked out for you, who was fast approaching Arthur's tent, arms full with medically supplies. "Miss y/n. Will you tend to his wounds and sit with him for a while?"

"On it", you confirmed, spilling the supplies across Arthur's table and readying yourself for the treatment.

Part 3 - The Wounded

There he lay in front of you. Arms and legs sprawled out, his union suit dirty and stained with blood. The wound on his shoulder looked nasty, but you could immediately tell that he had already taken care of it - to an extent. You were nervous beyond comprehension. You had taken care of Strauss' and John's gunshot wounds, but this was different. The wound wasn't fresh plus the man who suffered from it was one you cared the most for. You whirled around, your gaze landing on the faces of Miss Grimshaw and Swanson.

"Reverend, could you bring me a bowl of water? And Miss Grimshaw, please be so kind and close the tent flaps. I got it from here", you ordered. While Miss Grimshaw had total control over you when it came to washing dishes, she knew that you were in your element when administering first aid and she respected you for that. As soon as the flaps were closed and you had washed your hands, you turned to Arthur who was heavily breathing on his cot. Your eyes met his tired and exhausted ones.

"You're going to fine, Arthur", you affirmed, "I'll patch you up."

"Yeah, that's alright", he said in a raspy voice, his eyes slowly closing.

He was out the very second. It was difficult to get his limp body out of his union suit, but you were determined to at least have his upper body naked, so you could properly assess the damage. Besides the gun wound, which you swiftly cleaned again and patched up, there were several bruises on his abdomen that suggested he was being hit multiple times, probably tortured. It took you almost an hour to treat every scratch and bruise, but you had set your mind to doing it properly. It would have been hard to put into words what you felt when you treated Arthur. Mostly, you were just angry that this had happened. Then you felt anxious, what if you had done something wrong and the wound wouldn't heal? But at the end you just felt tired.

With your hands freshly washed you sat down on the chair next to Arthur's cot and took his hand into yours. It was what your mother had always done when you were sick and suffering. There hadn't been anything else she could do, with your father being the proficient doctor, but she would always sit next to you, simply being there and granting you physical contact. You tried sitting on the chair and holding Arthur's hand, but your eyelids became heavy and you fell asleep a couple of times, only to be woken up when gravity made your head jerk down. So, you decided to settle down on the ground next to Arthur's cot, kneeling next to it, your arms and head resting next to Arthur's hips, his hand still in yours in front of your face.

You were woken with the soft touch of Arthur's thumb slowly caressing your cheek. It took you a couple of moments to understand where you were but when you had finally pieced together everything you sat up straight. The twisted sleeping position hadn't done you any good. The backpain started to harass you the second you took your first conscious breath. It was still dark in the tent, only a ray of sunlight had found its way through the flaps and illuminated the dust dancing in the air. Arthur's eyes found yours, his hand which had cupped your cheek now resting motionlessly at his side.

"How do you feel?", you were the first to disturb the silence.

"Fine", Arthur answered briefly.

"No- but really", you asked again. The sweat on Arthur's forehead made you suspicious. It wasn't that hot, and he was...barely clothed. You hadn't even tried to put his union suit back on, so he had been left half naked all night. Arthur couldn't finish his shrug before you felt his temperature on his forehead. A mild fever, you quickly assessed.

"Don't lie to me. Not when you're in my care", you said worriedly. You tried to hide the stress in your voice, but you weren't sure if you had done such a great job at that. You blamed yourself for not waking up earlier, for having fallen asleep when Arthur was getting a fever.

"Sorry", he apologized before he avoided your gaze. You smiled gently; you weren't mad at him, and there was no point in blaming you. You silently prepared a mixture of some herbs and dipped a cloth in water to place on his forehead.

"It's just a mild fever. Maybe a small infection in addition to the stress...you're going to be alright. We'll have this fever down in no time", you explained, handing him the mixed herbs that you blended with water for Arthur to drink. "Taste's awful", you warned. It was gone in one gulp, and though you saw him scrunch his nose he didn't complain.

The fever was gone after a few hours, but Arthur remained exhausted for a couple more days. Most of the day you'd sit at his side, sometimes caressing his hair or hand when he was tired enough to barely notice. Arthur rarely spoke for the first two nights, he only groaned when he had to get up and walk to the forest with shaky knees or thanking you when you handed him a cup of water. One time, he asked you for a cigarette and as he reached out to take it, unconsciously used his hurt arm, which resulted in him flinching back. So you slowly brought the cigarette closer to his lips. Arthur shot you a curious gaze before he allowed you to let the cigarette rest in the corner of his mouth. He patiently waited for you to light a match and consequently the cigarette, puffing it a few times before he finally used his perfectly working arm to smoke comfortably. Never would you have thought to wait for a sign of gratitude, you knew that Arthur wasn’t a person who liked to be taken care of. He didn’t want to be a burden, you understood that sentiment. But every day you sat at his bedside you found him accepting your help more and more and you could tell, just by the way he looked at you, that he was slowly starting to enjoy it.

You often fell asleep with your head resting on his cot, and just as often would you wake up with Arthur's hand on your cheek. After the fifth day, Miss Grimshaw made you work chores again. Arthur still had bedrest. Every opportunity you found; you'd join him in his tent. Chopping carrots? You would do it on his desk. Mending trousers? Why not by his side? When Arthur had rested enough and though he wasn't physically fit, he'd talk to you a lot. You'd find the opportunity to tell him more about your family and the circumstances that made you join the gang. He, in turn, would tell you a bit about the earlier days, when it was just Dutch, Hosea, John, Miss Grimshaw and him.

It was in those hours that you got closer. You didn't stop holding his hand after the first night, you had made a habit of it. At first, only when he was falling asleep, but soon you found yourself brave enough to grab his hands when you were telling each other stories. You couldn't help but blush, every time you demanded his hand, but the embarrassment disappeared when, one night, he was the one who grabbed your hand.

It was late, his tent flaps were closed, and the only source of light was a lantern flickering on the table. You were seated on the cot next to Arthur, a reasonable distance between you.

"Thank you fer takin' good care of me", Arthur mumbled.

"Naturally", you smiled, "I'm just glad I found a purpose in this gang. Caring for you folks..."

"So what? Every man here gets the hand holding treatment? Is that what ya did to Marston after ya stitched his face up?", Arthur teased.

You giggled: "No. I dare say that's special treatment just for you."

"Yer treatin' me way better than I deserve, ya know", Arthur said after a short silence. His eyes darted around in the tent, searching for something to direct his attention towards.

"I don't think so. Spending so much time with you over the last couple of days...I think I never quite realized how lovely you could be", you admitted. That's right. You never thought that the man who gave you the cold shoulder and the enforcer of the gang, the brute who can shot up half of Valentine or Strawberry would happily shuffle in his cot when you let your hand glide through his hair. This time it was Arthur's turn to blush. Even in the dim light of the lantern you could see his colored cheeks. Even his ears were a brighter red than usual. You grinned satisfied at his embarrassed state. Arthur had to take a double take at your face to figure out what you were so smug about before he said:

"Look at ya, all happy about me being helpless. Don't even wanna know what yer parents would say about ya going around flattering a bad outlaw", Arthur was desperately looking for a topic that would give him control over the conversation. Your comment about him being lovely had thrown him off course more than he'd like to admit, and he struggled under the knowledge that you knew you had an advantage at the moment.

"I can imagine what they'd say but...here I am giving a damn on their opinion", you answered. You finally realized that the manners of the gang had rubbed off on you. Never before in your quiet household in Blackwater would you've been able to talk like that to your parents. Suddenly you found yourself holding eye contact with Arthur. It wouldn't have been any easier figuring out what both of you were thinking if you had been an open book. You would be lying if you said that you didn't think about kissing Arthur a lot the last couple of days. He was so handsome, especially when he was asleep, and you had taken the time to study his features. Deep down, you hoped he had done the same when you had fallen asleep and were woken by his hand caressing your cheek. There was a certain magnetic pull in the situation you were in. Neither could you move forward, nor backwards. You felt frozen in place, unable to close the little distance that was between you and Arthur. Doubt started to creep up in you quickly. Maybe it's not meant to be. Maybe not yet. But your thoughts were interrupted by Arthur, who blinked and suddenly spoke to you in a low voice.

"Y/n...it's okay if ya say no, but I'd really like to-"

"Yes!", you nodded hastily, and you could barely close your eyes before Arthur's free hand found its place on your cheek, cupping it carefully, as his lips made contact with yours.

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction

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teethflavoured · 10 months

Note

"Hey. I got something for Spyke. A lil prezzy. Sicne I heard he liked meat andall."

*holds out a massive, raw, dripping chunk of bright-red steak, supported from underneath with both hands like a large heavy box. Its place of origin within the cow (or whatever the Splatoon equivalent of cattle is) is dubious, but probably passable as human-tier (or Urchin-tier) food if cooked, assuming it's even beef. Whatever it is, it's fresh, the kind of oversaturated red typically relegated to edgy Undertale OCs clashing against the soft, milky white of a thick outer ring of fat. A cross-section of bone sits firmly in the middle, a shallow divot of pinkish marrow visible within the larger, skateboard wheel sized circle of white. The thing resembles a live-action Flintstones prop, or the kind of cartoonishly exaggerated steak drawn by someone prompted to doodle the word "meat" in 30 seconds.*

"I found this thing and thuoght he might like it. Please give it to him!! <3"

*eyes the nearby table, a small and flimsy ordeal constructed from cheaply-veneered chipboard. Sloppily painted with translucent woodstain in a warmish mud brown, rubbery brushstrokes visible and edges left streaky and bare, the thing looks absolutely pathetic, almost pitiable. The entire table is pocked and marred with dents, scratches and cigarette burns, the legs held in by bulky Allen screws, one of them being propped up with several stacked chunks of torn cardboard. It looks wobbly, the kind of thing you wouldn't place a coffee on, and it better befits a suburban curb or a pondscum-choked roadside ditch than the room we stand in. Not worth repairing, not even worth burning due to the chemicals in the stain. Just a cumbersome piece of trash that would only be employed by the truly desperate, its one purpose better served by a stack of sturdy boxes.*

"I'll just set it down over there, okey? Thanksies!!"

*without waiting for a reply, I begin approaching the sorry excuse for a table, shuffling along straight-kneed like a penguin, my back and arms tensed and straining, yet just barely managing to support the weight of the printer sized hunk of meat, weighing similarly to a portly toddler, the kind usually seen holding a melty soft-serve in a Costco parking lot (or perhaps a MakoMart). My posture resembles a parody of a Buckingham Palace guard, but I maintain a strained, pressed-lips white person smile as I scooch over to the wobbly wooden affair, face red and jaw clenched but determined to not look like a wimp.*

*SCHLAP!!*

*in a swift and gleeful motion, relieved of my meaty burden, I drop the steak straight down upon the table, removing my hands from underneath it and allowing gravity to do the rest. Unsurprisingly, about a second after the slab of flesh makes contact with wood, slamming down upon a tabletop barely large enough to contain it, the table snaps in half, sharply bowing inwards as the top breaks clean in two, then being smashed flat again as it hits the floor, the legs shooting off with corners still attached. The table has been crushed. Bits and splinters of wood lay strewn about like a beaver just finished filming a mukbang, the blast radius of wooden confetti spanning about a metre. The steak, far more durable than the table, sits fully intact upon the now-legless tabletop halves, a dappling of reddish juices and milky fat droplets upon the floor the only indicator that a fall has even occured. After a momentary flinch, hands reflexively held up in the Thriller pose, I quickly take a breath, regain composure and turn to face you once more, my cheerful grin returning in an instant as if a mental light switch was flicked back on.*

"Oops! Sorry!~"

*After a few awkward moments of silence, I skitter away excitedly with a tumblrina giggle-squee combo, leaving you alone with the floor-steak and the splintery aftermath of a slasher film written by a pine tree, no trace of my presence remaining in the room but the mess, the smell of a dingy Claire's, and a distant ruckus of barking dogs (or whatever the Splatoon equivalent of a dog is) stirred up by the ear-piercing Krakatoa of roughly 45 lbs of raw meat slamming into a hardwood floor like an apocalyptic meteor.*

oh my fucinkg GOD.

this is the 2nd 'fanfic' i got in my askbox this week. when are you guys gonna start uploading to ao3?

#anon have you considered taking. creative writing classes because jesus christ this is so. visual #the 2ndone is something im drawing something for actually you'll have to wait #this is really really funny but also its 8am and seeing this as soon as i woke nearly fucking killed me #long post #teeth answers

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yanderes-galore · 2 years

Text

Yandere Halloween Event 2022 Masterlist

Halloween Event that was meant for 2022. All fics were requested this year :)

Edited: 4/11/23

Day 1 - Yandere! BLU! Medic Prompts W-1, O-1, Z-1 (TF2 - Eldritch) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 2 - Yandere! Oni! Genji with Easily Scared! Darling (Overwatch - Oni) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 3 - Substitute - Yandere! Medic-Bot/Uber-Bot Short (TF2 - Doppleganger) (Romantic/Platonic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 4 - Yandere! Lady Dimitrescu Prompts K-2 and K-3 (Resident Evil - Dragon) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 5 - Yandere! Vampire! Phobos Prompt A-2 (Madness Combat - Vampire) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 6 - Yandere! Mimic Prompt C-2 (Sonic - Deception/Shapeshifter) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 7 - Yandere! Sonic The Werehog Prompt P-3 (Sonic - Werewolf) (Romantic/Platonic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 8 - Yandere! Engineer with Medi-Bot! Darling (TF2 - Husk) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 9 - Yandere! Parasitica! Leonardo Prompts 11 + 30 (TMNT - Parasite) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 10 - Yandere! Platonic! BLU! Medic Prompts H-1, H-2, H-3, I-1 (TF2 - Isolation) (Platonic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 11 - Scientific Reasoning - Yandere! Donatello (2012) Scenario (TMNT - Mutation) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 12 - Yandere! RED! Medic Prompts F-2 and B-1 (TF2 - Incubus) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 13 - Yandere! Jack Prompt S-2 (Bioshock - Brutality) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 14 - Yandere! BLU! Medic with Angel! Darling (TF2 - Angel) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 15 - Yandere! Mephiles The Dark Prompts C-2, P-2, T-3 (Sonic - Stalking) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 16 - Yandere! RED! Scout Prompts M-3, N-1, Q-1 (TF2 - Murder Game) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 17 - Yandere! Atlas/Frank Fontaine Prompts E-3 and J-2 (Bioshock - Hypnotism) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 18 - Yandere! RED! Pyro Prompts C-1, G-3, S-2 (TF2 - Demon) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 19 - Yandere! Vampire! Albert Wesker Prompt A-1 (Resident Evil - Hunt) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 20 - Given New Life - Yandere! Scout-Bot Short (TF2 - Experiment) (Platonic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 21 - Yandere! Sonic.EXE Prompts G-1, I-2, Y-3 (Sonic - Virus) (Romantic but mostly horror) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 22 - Yandere! Platonic! Rat King! Splinter Concept (TMNT - Insanity) (Platonic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 23 - Going Crazy - Yandere! RED! Medic Short (TF2 - Ghosts) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 24 - Yandere! Platonic! ROTTMNT! Raphael Prompt J-2 (TMNT - Festivities) (Platonic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 25 - Yandere! Shadow The Hedgehog Prompts P-3, H-1, T-1 (Sonic - Frankenstein's Monster) (Platonic/Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 26 - Yandere! Nikolai Zinoviev Prompts K-1 and K-2 (Resident Evil 3 - Fate) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 27 - Underbrush - Yandere! Naga Short (OC - Naga) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 28 - Yandere! Noah Prompt P-2 (OC - Folklore) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 29 - Yandere! Ethan Winters Prompts H-1, N-2, N-3 (Resident Evil - Spores) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 30 - Late Night Visit - Yandere! Demoman Short (TF2 - Imitation) (Romantic/Platonic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

Day 31 - Target - Yandere! Tiger Claw Scenario (TMNT - Feral) (Romantic) [GENDER-NEUTRAL]

#panther halloween event 2022

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pumpkinkofi · 1 year

Photo

day 5 of April(Oneil) 30-day prompts, I've always loved the fact April canonically trains with splinter and Leo (even if she's not doing it entirely right.)

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt #tmnt april #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #2012 tmnt #2012 leo #2012 leonardo #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt master splinter #tmnt 2012 master splinter #2012 splinter #tmnt 2012 april #tmnt 2012 april o'neil #april o'neil #2012 april #PKC #April(O’Neil) prompts

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glowbug252 · 6 months

Text

Tmntober Day: 30

Prompt: Scary Movie

I saw this and I knew I HAD to do the Fnaf movie. Leo and Donnie are the most excited, and Splinter refused to pass up the opportunity to watch tv. Raph thought it might be too scary for Mikey, so Mikey had to prove him wrong. Raph’s there to finally see what this Fnaf thing his brothers won’t shut up about is lmao.

@tmntober-2023

(And yes, I finally was able to buy my tickets and I saw it on the Thursday release, in case anyone remembered that from my oc spotlight lol)

#glow's art #my turtle art #tmntober 2023 #rottmnt #rise mikey #rise raph #rise donnie #rise leo #rise splinter

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murasakibonnet · 7 months

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Bonnie’s Inktober Masterpost!

I’m going to be flip-flop between the official Inktober prompts and Sariphantom’s Risetober prompts. This’ll be a fun challenge, I think.

Day 1: Dream (Disaster Twins)

Day 2: Spiders (Big Mama and Splinter)

Day 3: Path (The Hamato Boys)

Day 4: Dodge (April and Casey (SR.))

Day 5: Future (April)

Day 6: Golden (Michaelangelo)

Day 7: Drip & Day 8: Green (The Hamato Boys)

Day 9: [Skipped]

Day 10: Fortune (PB &J)

Day 11: Jumpscare (Turtle tots)

Day 12: Video Game (The Hamato boys)

Day 13: [Skipped]

Day 14: Pizza (Raphael)

Day 15: Dagger (Leonardo)

Day 16: [Skipped]

Day 17: Demon (Donatello)

Day 18: Galaxy Con (Pb&J)

Day 19: [Skipped]

Day 20: [Skipped]

Day 21: Chains (Michaelangelo)

Day 22: Portal Chopped (Leonardo)

Day 23: [Promptless] - Background Study

Day 24: [Promptless] - Animatic Speedrun

Day 25: [Skipped]

Day 26: [Promptless] - Hynopotamus

Day 27: [Promptless] - Muscles Study (Raphael)

Day 28: [Promptless] - Color Study (Brains & Brawn)

Day 29: Shredder & Day 30: Karai (w/ April O’Neil and ???)

Day 31: Trick or Treat (The Hamato Boys)

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #donatello #leonardo #michealangelo #raphael #big mama #splinter #casey jones #cassandra jones #april o'neil #inktober #risetober

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onwesterlywinds · 8 months

Text

PROMPT #2: Bark

This piece is set roughly two years before XIV 2.0 and reflects part of the aftermath of the 2020 prompt #30 Splinter.

The night before the imperial audit was due to the capital, the 9th Bureau offices of the IVth Legion resembled the aftermath of an explosion - a comparison with which Alma was intimately familiar. Sheafs of paper obscured most of the great meeting room table in Hyur-tall columns that might once have held some deeper organizational purpose but was now more a testament to the workings of imperial procedure than any meaningful function. The air, too, was thick with sweat and breath; the confidentiality of their task prohibited them from opening a window, and the odors that had gathered throughout the evening served only to inhibit concentration. Dona eir Quinta had retreated to the veranda for a smoke break, Sadr rem Albeleo was attending to a security breach elsewhere in the building, and many of the other staff with whom Alma was much less familiar had collapsed after pushing far past their twenty-bell shifts.

As such, when the legatus strode in to the office, only she and Menenius sas Lanatus were there to greet him.

"How fare the preparations?" said Noah van Gabranth by way of greeting.

Menenius bowed his head with much more certainty than Alma had seen from him only a few minutes prior. "Proceeding apace, my lord."

"Good." But he paid no mind to the carnage of bureaucracy transpiring around him. "Velius. With me, if you would."

Her pulse quickened, as it always did whenever he addressed her directly. She stood from the page she had been annotating - a note on the damage done to Dalmasca's historical sites during the bombings under Livia sas Junius - and made to present herself at attention.

"And bring a writing pad," the legatus added.

Menenius raised an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between the both of them with unabashed curiosity. Whether out of unflagging obedience or abject fatigue, he simply nodded, and he left Alma to follow behind his superior when the latter made a quick exit.

"The prisoner is a collaborator of the Dalmascan Resistance," said Gabranth as they walked the halls of Nalbina Fortress to reach the keep. "A powerful mage with connections to the void."

She understood then why Gabranth had not simply done away with the prisoner: void mages were rare - those with enough scruples to land them in Nalbina, much more so.

"She has rejected multiple offers of friendship over the decades; nevertheless, we believe non-violent interrogation may yield insightful results. For her records, copy down our conversation in full, without shorthand. Make note of her expressions and any movements of her limbs."

"Yes, ser." The instructions were basic orders for an interrogation of any sort. What she could not yet grasp was why this task proved just as crucial as a half-completed audit that needed to be aboard an airship bound for the capital by the time the sun rose.

That question remained even as the legatus opened the door to the oubliette. The woman within the cage beyond was greatly diminished; Alma would have to inquire later how long her imprisonment had lasted thus far, given that she had been made to hang. All the same, her features were striking: long waves of purple hair cascaded down over her brown skin, and her tired eyes still shone bright amid the single candle that cast its light around the door.

"Ah," said the prisoner. One of her ears gave a twitch, one that Alma supposed was more out of instinct than any true emotion. "The imperial hound returns, now with a shadow in tow."

After serving in the IVth Legion for more than three years, Alma had seen firsthand how Noah van Gabranth was a man willing to tolerate a great deal of uncouth behavior, even rudeness, so long as they came from a place of loyalty. The Viera voidmage's jokes were nothing Alma had not heard before, even from within the 9th Bureau's own ranks - but to hear them from a prisoner was something far different.

But Gabranth did not react to her impudence with anger or amusement. Instead, he raised both hands to his helmet and lifted it from his head to hold it at his side.

It was the first time Alma had ever seen his face - though she recognized it from countless lithographs she had seen of Basch. There, in the dim light of the fortress, he might have passed for his father's ghost.

"State your name, for the record," said Gabranth.

Only then, with the invocation of her role, did Alma remember that she had been brought here for a definitive purpose.

Again the prisoner's ear twitched, this time in the direction of Alma's pen scratching upon the paper. Her eyes were locked with Gabranth's in a way she had never seen before, not even from his officers.

"Hrjt - that's H-R-J-T - of the Graylands. Called 'Brotin' in the Viera tongue. And I would humbly request, for the record, an acknowledgement that the legatus remains unable to pronounce my name, even after nearly thirty years of our dalliances." Here, she inclined her head as deeply as she was able to Alma. "And what is your name, dear scribe?"

"She is of no consequence," Gabranth interjected, and Alma found herself grateful for the words. "But you, Miss Brotin-"

"It may help if you think of it as containing a D, as the R is what is known as a 'flipped' R. 'HED-yet.'"

"-you may yet rise above your name." Alma could not help but abbreviate nearly every word that came through, could not hope to capture in full the crosstalk flying fast between the longstanding adversaries. "To do so, I would present you with this."

A brightness emerged from Gabranth's side, even before Alma glanced up from her furious scrawling. From a pocket inside his armor, he withdrew a piece of auracite.

Hrjt went still in her chains. She took in a deep breath of the putrid dungeon air, deep enough for Alma to make note of it upon the page - and then, in a mere instant, her eyes reflected the selfsame stygian light.

"Dark and cold is this lover's embrace," she intoned. Her voice had dropped several octaves in mere moments. "I lie among the boundless detritus, piled high atop the ruins of the outcasts - a feast for those who cannot sink lower. Look upon me! Partake of me!"

Alma wrote faster than she had ever written before, heedless of all but the need to capture the words as they came to her. Then Hrjt coughed, and murky saltwater poured from her mouth, all down the front of her ragged and stained shift.

"I am here," she whispered. She now spoke as a Dalmascan man would speak, using masculine-gendered grammar. Alma could barely speak Dalmascan, though she knew enough of it from listening to Rabanastran radios for bells on end.

And Hrjt's speech conveyed only desire in its simplest form - words simple enough to piece together through the fervency with which they were conveyed.

"Where are you, my love? I feel you, yet you are not with me. Our son, you-" She turned, then, to Alma. "My son. Do not bring him here. He would only drown in these depths."

"Your son?" asked Gabranth. His voice was both hard and dangerously sweet - a horrific sort of invitation. "Who is your son?"

Hrjt did not reply; she merely coughed again and vomited even more water from some unfathomable depth. When she righted her head, it was with the great fatigue that one would expect of a prisoner who had been hanging by her wrists for nigh on a week.

"No more," she said. "I've had enough of your barking for now, Your Honor. Permit me to go, and I will let you live to howl another day."

Gabranth, inexplicably, thrust the glowing stone back into his pocket.

Hrjt breathed in a quiet, steadying breath - and in an instant, a wreath of dark aether enveloped and subsumed her. By the time Alma blinked to confirm what she was seeing, Hrjt had vanished without so much as a single trace.

"Again," Gabranth mused. "Ah well. We will find her again. She always returns to Valnain."

Alma knew better than to ask more questions about this woman, or to speak of the stone that had been brought to subdue her; and so she followed the legatus back to the office and returned to her work.

#Alma Malheur #Hrjt Brotin #REAL ONES KNOW. REAL ONES GET IT.#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite 2023

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jaskwritesthings · 2 years

Note

hi jask! it's @glossolali 💜 here's some prompts~

- Caleb and Essek tether essence hurt comfort

- Caleb and Molly fey AU

- Caleb, Molly and Essek cuddle puddle (bonus points for one or more of them being sassy menaces)

tags: hurt/comfort, blood and injury

(ao3)

first one, other two to follow buddy!

Teether Essence

7th-level necromancy (dunamancy)

Casting Time: 1 action

Range: 60 feet

Components: V, S, M (a spool of platinum cord worth at least 250 gp, which the spell consumes)

Duration: Concentration, up to 1 hour

Two creatures you can see within range must make a Constitution saving throw, with disadvantage if they are within 30 feet of each other. Either creature can willingly fail the save. If either save succeeds, the spell has no effect. If both saves fail, the creatures are magically linked for the duration, regardless of the distance between them. When damage is dealt to one of them, the same damage is dealt to the other one. If hit points are restored to one of them, the same number of hit points are restored to the other one. If either of the tethered creatures is reduced to 0 hit points, the spell ends on both. If the spell ends on one creature, it ends on both.

With the Aeorian creature finally felled at his feet Essek took a moment to fish a potion from his wrist pocket and undo the damage the creature's massive claws had done to his leg.

He rather felt like they were a dab hand at adventuring alone through the ruins now. Not so long ago two Reverser’s would have been the cause for no small amount of panic. Now, Essek and Caleb had dealt with enough of the loose monstrosities of the age of Arcanum that they knew how to dispatch them quickly and efficiently.

Caleb was close by, merely on the other-side of what might have been a lovely courtyard once, now it was an ice shattered ruin of stone and deadly moss. He was finishing his own opponent with ease so Essek wasn’t overly concerned. He trusted his partner to yell if he required aid in the battle but he kept a close eye on things just in case. The dark stain on Caleb’s side did worry Essek a little, though it didn’t seem to affect Caleb all that much. But it was enough for Essek to decide he’d risk Caleb’s usual lecture and expand another high level spell for tether essence. Perhaps he could convince Caleb it was more economical to use the spell to heal them both? He doubted it would work but it might be worth the amused smile he would get for his attempt.

The platinum cord sparked and disappeared from his fingers as he felt the spell settle over them both like a fuzzy blanket. Caleb didn’t offer even a token of a fight against the spell and it warmed him deeply, the show of unshakeable trust in him.

With that pleasant feeling settling in his gut, Essek uncorked the potion but before he could taste the first bitter drop there was a sharp, tearing pain ripping through his side as his world tilted dramatically sideways. He was flung unceremoniously aside like a rag doll by another Reverser that had snuck up on him. The echo of one their limited potions shattering against the stonework was overshadowed by the agonised cry Caleb let out as the pain vibrated through the bond.

Essek whimpered as the fragile bond splintered and shattered like ice under the weight of his echoing pain. Caleb’s pain would be short lived at least, it was a small consolation as his gaze darkened and the green ape-like monster advanced on its fallen prey.

“Essek!” Caleb yelled and Essek’s eyes snapped open, disorientating him. He was much closer than Essek remembered and their foe was nowhere to be seen. How long had he fallen unconscious?

“I am here Caleb,” Essek said, his voice weaker than he’d expected.

“Drink this, I’ll set up the dome,” Caleb shoved the neck of potion into his mouth and moved away only as far as necessary to begin setting up the dome.

“The tower?” Essek questioned as he swallowed the remedy.

“Nein, I may have overdone it on that last Reverser…” Caleb admitted quietly.

Essek pushed himself up enough to note the smouldering remains not that far from them both. It hardly resembled a Reverser, the sickly green of its hide turned black and broken by the heat of Caleb’s fire. It was touching in a way.

The dome shimmered into existence around them, the chill of Aeor replaced by the warmth of Caleb’s protective dome. That, mixed with his wounds knitting back together, allowed him to relax and sigh as he sunk back against the broken stonework safe in the knowledge they were okay for now.

“All right?” Caleb asked.

“Better,” Essek admitted with a sigh as he set aside the empty bottle, “my apologies, I should have examined my surroundings better. Are you hurt?”

Caleb shook his head, “Nein, only shaken. I thought…”

Caleb went quiet and Essek waited for a few moments but he didn’t appear to be able to continue, “Caleb?”

“The tether snapped so suddenly, I thought I’d lost you,” Caleb whispered, his voice wrecked in a way Essek hadn’t heard before.

“My concentration slipped,” Essek said gently.

Caleb chuckled without humour, “Slipped, mein schatz, you felt like you were dying and then...nothing.”

Essek reached out, tentative as he worried about the welcome of his touch in the moment, Caleb seemed almost as though he could shatter under the weight of his short lived grief and Essek didn’t want to be the one that broke Caleb for good, “I’m sorry.”

Caleb’s hand snapped out and clasped Essek’s hand tightly, his grip almost painful as he pulled Essek’s hand to his lips. It wasn’t so much of a kiss as an excuse to feel the warmth of him, the beat of his heart under Caleb’s shaky breath.

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Caleb said but the shake in his hand as he held tight told a different truth.

“Lay down with me for a moment,” Essek asked him, eager to wrap Caleb in his embrace and chase away the lingering fear as he’d so often done for Essek.

“The packs-“ Caleb argued but Essek merely pulled his hand, not releasing him, down towards the earth hoping to coax his partner to follow.

“Caleb, please.”

Caleb hesitated for a moment before his shoulders slumped, tension seeming to ooze out of him like an open wound, “Ja, for a moment.”

#jask answers #critical role #shadowgast #shadowgast fanfiction #critical role fanfiction #glossolaliac

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 years

Text

Not Enough

Summary: It's hard to say goodbye, but sometimes love is not enough.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: A brief moment of mostly implied smut. PinV sex alluded to. But pretty much all angst. I'm sorry.

Pairings: gn!reader, and I left the fandom neutral as well, so that you can fill in whatever male hero/villain you'd like to see in your bed.

Word Count: 434

A/N: So, I’ve decided to do all 30 of these writing prompts. I may miss a day here and there, but I’m going to try to do one a day, and I will be completing all 30 no matter what. They won’t always be in order. This fic will be for the prompt: Write an ending without a beginning.

Hope you enjoy! I will be putting together a Masterlist for all 30 prompts and adding it to my main Masterlist.

Both beautiful text dividers, both below and at the bottom, were created by @firefly-graphics

His powerful hands pressed yours into the pillow on either side of your head, fingers entwined. As he thrust into you one last time, he buried his face in your neck, groaning what sounded like a lament against your skin. Through the haze of pleasure that still swamped you, you could feel him drawing back, pulling away, receding from your body and detaching himself from your soul.

He was leaving. He came here to leave, after all, to say goodbye. The lovemaking had just happened, it wasn’t planned, just a goodbye kiss that had gotten out of hand.

As he tried to pull out of your body, you wrapped your legs around him, refusing to let him go. His face was still buried in the crook of your neck, so you wrapped your arms around the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his soft hair, trapping his hot breath against your skin.

He let you…for a few minutes. Then he used his superior strength to pull himself out of your embrace.

As he stood up you felt yourself go limp against the sheets that smelled of sex, that would carry his scent after he was gone. He pulled on his jeans and yanked a t-shirt over his head. He ran his hands through his hair a couple times, smoothing out the evidence of your passionate grip.

He slipped his boots on and at last he was ready to go.

“Please, don’t go.”

The words slipped out of your mouth and you immediately wished you could take them back. You had no hope of changing his mind now. Now you were just begging and all it did was embarrass you and hurt him. What was the point?

He turned back to look at you and you could tell by the clenched jaw and the sadness he couldn’t fully erase from his eyes, that his composure was hard won.

“Be safe.” He said simply. And you could see he was thinking about kissing you, but that was how you’d ended up here in the first place.

So instead he shoved his clenched fists into his pockets and turned away.

As he reached your bedroom door you sat up, staring at his broad back for the last time. He paused in the doorway.

“You…you know I’ll always love you.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. But not enough. You realized as tears stung your eyes.

He walked away, slipping out of your life as quietly as he’d entered it. But he left behind the sound of your splintered heart crashing to the floor.

Tags under the cut:

@akshi8278

@lgranger67

@maggiegirl17

@carryonwaywardgirl

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@foxyjwls007 @b3autyfuldisast3r @myloversgone @kazsrm67 @fangirlxwritesx67 @kickingitwithkirk @charred-angelwings

@hopefuldreamers-world @siospins2 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @my-sherlock221b @jensensgotyoudean @lyarr24 @snowlovespie @stixnstripesworld

@thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @norman1967 @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@b-i-t-c-h-i-e @twirpbunwarrior @mysweetlittledesire

@waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester

@bernasaurus @leigh70

@supernatural4life2022

@dainrumnaheim

@sexyvixen7

@maliburenee

@waywardbaby

@jensenslady79

#30 days writing challenge #multifandom fanfiction #choose your own character

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fatedmus3s · 1 year

Text

A Mission Gone Wrong

Summary: It's the first mission the Winter Soldier and Black Widow take together after the scientists brainwashed Natasha. They instilled complete and utter obedience in her. So with renewed efficiency and effectiveness, there's no way this can go wrong...

Word Count: 9,440 words

He'd run across her alone once more after he saw her in the sparring room. Nothing had changed, so he stayed the course. James had stayed as warm as he could without prompting questions from her, not leading her to more questions. It had been some time, and he had been unsure until this morning that he'd made the right decisions. Surely after this long, they would have returned her to her regular schedule and place in the organization if they trusted her?

Yet it had been so long, doubt had crept in. Until today, James was told he would be going on a critical mission (those he found when he could think so freely were the most dangerous ones). An important task, and finally- he was to have a partner on it. That could only mean one person.

He got in his vest and tactical gear, slipping the weapons where they needed to be thoughtlessly, fighting hard against the Soldier's mentality when he had just been given a mission. If his partner was indeed Natalia, as she usually was... then he needed to control himself and not be cold. That would only set her back.

She needed his warmth, and he fought the sharp focus easier with that knowledge. She needed him, and he wouldn’t allow himself to let her down again. He stepped into the room… and a surge of... something, something light and warming washed over him to see Natalia preparing as well.

He was sure they must be under observation at this stage, so he decided to act normally until they were in the field.

"You have been briefed?" He asked in his monotone, even if he couldn't dispel the warmth in his eyes entirely. He picked up the packet of information now that he felt more in control of himself around her. Enough to really soak in the details.

That time she reported early to the guards. Like she was eager to please them. She didn't want the trouble of finding them too late. She hadn't slept like she actually intended to do but seemed calmer. Her usual confusing thoughts made a bit more sense to her.

The Black Widow had been questioned about what she had done and who she had met that day. Truthful answers spilled from her mouth, telling them of her brief encounter with the Winter Soldier. They listened intently and she had been brought to the chair. But this time, the heavy headpiece wasn’t strapped as tightly and it was only used once instead of continuously with no end. It was still painful enough she dug splinters into he skin, gripping onto the chair but… it was almost merciful to Natalia.

The second encounter had been more straightforward for her. Again it had been a random one. But her thoughts were making more sense and she didn't feel the white fog trying to push everything away. Things simply slipped, and she learned that if she didn't pester them, the pain stayed away.

Still, she seemed scattered compared to her usual self. The Black Widow had searched for a place to be alone, away from everyone, to sort her thoughts. She did that a lot lately - making sense of some weird ideas.

The Widow stood with her back to the door. Like always, she knew he had entered the room before he said something. Their first encounter since they took her away was only a blur to her. She remembered seeing him but not what had happened. But that was okay; she found that lack of knowledge pretty comforting. It happened a lot, but she didn't tell them when they asked her. Yet they seemed to know and were satisfied with that result.

"Yes, Soldier," she replied. She had been brought to her new handlers, who explained what she had to do. They had described it in such detail that she thought they believed she had gone stupid. What struck her was the fact they insisted on her understanding that the Winter Soldier would have the last word in everything. She was to respond to his orders like a soldier herself. She curtly nodded at them, giving her okay before they sent her to take on her gear.

She holstered her gun to her thigh and finally turned to him. Her gaze was calculating. Her whole presence was cold and she seemed almost bored. She stood straighter than she usually did, the only indication that they had meddled with her mind, except for two light bruises on her wrists and a dark one on her forehead near her hairline. But the rest of her wounds had healed quickly and left no scar.

Natalia noticed his relatively warm gaze but didn't respond to it. Just a tiny notion stirred in her that this gaze meant safety. Again an odd thought, so she almost instantly let it slip.

"Are you ready? We need to go, or else we're taking too much time," she said, mimicking him when he had talked about efficiency. Her voice made it evident that she wasn't one for chit-chat anymore.

Now that he looked deeper into the details of his mission, the Soldier understood why they were allowed to work together again. Perhaps that was always the plan, but this was much too urgent to the state to allow it to be flawed. An old and respected political figure of the court many years ago was suspected of selling information for years. It hadn't affected him much, and eliminating him would have been messier than necessary for the situation. Now, as it would turn out, the old man was dying; a cancer verdict called for the end of his life.

Apparently, a dying conscious thought it wise to speak. So he was to be eliminated. Inside sources said he would be going public soon, although he hadn't told any press or officials yet. He was traveling to the capitol tomorrow, meaning he must be readying his agenda then. So he must be eliminated before he could say what he intended to do. Otherwise, the death would be suspicious.

It seemed that his trip would be by car, and he would take two days to reach the Kremlin. It would be difficult; the man would surely have his guard up, fully expect something terrible come his way. That didn’t matter, none of their preparation would stop the Soldier from achieving his mission.

He glanced at Natalia as she spoke, pulling himself back.

<"The timetable is acceptable,"> He intoned and his gaze shifted momentarily before he pulled himself back. His focus was shattered by Natalia. He could think more freely again and handed the file to her as he passed her.

<"Familiarize yourself.">

He made his way to the garage where they would need a car. He was going to need to survey maps and look for checkpoints where they would be able to turn the road trip into a tragic accident. It was going to take much preparation in the day to come.

She looked at him passively, waiting for him to move or give her further orders. Finally, her shoulders straightened as he told her to go over the file once more.

<"Yes, sir.">

She took the given file from him and read through it repeatedly like it would make more sense if she knew the whole plan by heart. Finally, the Black Widow knew what she had to do. Either distract the target from making sure they come to a stop.

Perhaps it would be efficient for her to pretend her car had broken down in the middle of nowhere and she could mime the damsel in distress. Then the Soldier would come into the game and take a simple headshot as soon as the guards were distracted. Afterwards, they could make it look like an accident. It was essential to making sure that it looked like one, or else people would grow suspicious.

He started walking, so she followed obediently.

<"We can make it look like an accident near Tapyca. There aren't people around to come to his aide,"> she suggested in a tone that ensured the Soldier would have the last word. It wasn't for her to decide about the previous perimeter but for him. Her handlers had made it clear that she was to listen to him and he would have the last word. Why they thought she couldn't deal with things alone wasn't completely clear to her, but perhaps they simply wanted to make sure they succeeded. They did have a reasonable success rate together, after all.

The Black Widow kept her gaze still on the file until she was sure she knew every little detail of the file. Then, she waited for more orders.

<"We will scope the area,"> He agreed and took a moment in the garage before deciding this wouldn't be good enough. He walked around the cars and checked Natalia was still behind him before he stopped at the motorcycle. He reached into one of his vest pockets and pulled out the two-way receiver- that until he needed it, he didn't realize he had- and commed in. <"Asset to detour to stock-hold three.">

<"Asset cleared."> Was the scratchy response.

<"RRA Widow in tow,"> He explained the response came after long deliberation.

<"Widow cleared.">

He turned it off and put the radio away in the vest again.

<"We need better equipment,"> He said in the way of explanation, as it occurred to him Natalia was behind him. He slipped too easily into his missions.

He got onto the bike and nodded to indicate for her to follow him. It was the fastest and easiest to dodge until they reached stock-hold three. Then they could get the proper equipment for this level of operation. The directions seemed to come to him when he thought about it, although he had no idea where he had gotten the information.

She watched the scene and looked perplexed as he moved to the motorcycle. That's not how she had imagined this mission to go. For a moment, she stood there quietly, falling back to her introverted self before hearing him speak. The Black Widow thought he had spoken to her for a moment, but he apparently wasn't.

Once he explained that they needed better equipment, she nodded shortly. Romanova was sure he knew best and swung her leg around the motorcycle to sit behind him. This closeness felt familiar, even though she couldn't tell why. Soon, the familiarity was forgotten as her mind was set on their current mission.

<"We need blunt equipment. Knives and guns will draw unwanted attention,"> she told him as she placed her hands on his sides so she could hold onto him while they drove. Using both weapons would indicate that it hadn't been a car accident but someone had sabotaged the politician. They needed to move quickly and efficiently so neither his security nor the politician knew what was going on.

<"Yes," > He responded. She was correct; he couldn't physically harm them either. The man wasn't the problem. It was the security. They didn't need to worry about the investigation; officials would take care of that. It was the press coverage that it would need to look flawless to.

<"We need a vehicle similar to theirs, as well,"> He called back to her. Once they took down the guards, they'd need one to set up; it was a collision. A failure of the vehicles, perhaps. He opened the bay doors and revved the motor to life before he pulled out of the academy. The guards opened the gate and he slipped past them with ease.

As they paused before getting on the freeway, he reached down and pulled her hands tighter around his waist instead of simply on the sides. For obvious reasons, the bike hit higher speeds than it should, and he didn't want her to be surprised by it.

"We'll be going much faster, Natalia," He explained softly, surprised he'd slipped into his apparent, natural tongue.

The Soldier's mentality faded along the course of the drive, struggling to keep up with the wind whipping James' face and Natalia hugged so close behind him. Although for a moment, it didn't seem like they were two assets or that she was as lost as he was now... the pressure of retrieving her lifted... he just felt alive.

They moved past the guards and it gave her a strange thrill. Like it was her first time leaving the compound. The realization first hit in as he pulled her hands around his waist. It seemed like a silly gesture. It would take more than something like a motorcycle to knock her down on her bottom. But he was the boss, so she moved her hands like he guided them.

<"Okay..."> she replied, still using Russian despite her forgotten habit of talking in English with him.

They had done well, saying it was necessary to speak their mother tongue unless ordered otherwise or if the situation demanded that. Unfortunately, the times she had unknowingly used English with them hadn't ended well for her. They made sure she had forgotten, but the notion of leaning into Russian instead of any other language had stayed.

Romanova moved her face a bit as the air whipped cold on her skin. Now her own face was near the back of his head as she had moved it into his wake. She could smell him now and it stirred a motion in her as she leaned closer and held even tighter on him. It wasn't the fear that she might fall off the motorbike, but she simply wanted to.

His familiar smell and closeness stirred a memory in her. She was mocking him in front of the girls. No… of course, she wasn't mocking him. Romanova wouldn't dare to do such a thing, would she? She must have simply shown the girls how to improve their fighting skills. Just a small demonstration with his help.

He was acting so different to what she was used to. Then, like now, it almost seemed like the Winter Soldier in her memory was foreign to this man. The thought brought severe pain and she flinched in pain as she loosened her grip again, almost in reflex like she had burnt her fingers on him.

So she fell back into thinking about the trouble of how to kill the politician. Strangulation would leave bruises around the man's neck. With some luck, the press wouldn't mention or even spot that but chances were high that they did.

<"I think we should concentrate on how to make their car crash!"> she told him, leaning forward so he would hear her over the sound of the wind and continued <"-If we trap them like that, the press will see they crashed their own car. Others just need to be fast enough to remove the corpses and we would be able to strangle them. It might leave bruises, but that's the cleanest way. We need to get close to them and not leave any witnesses..">

She held tighter and he let off the gas minimally to enjoy it, so they were going closer to 140 mph now. He couldn't help how much he enjoyed having her so close. The knowledge that she didn't strictly need to lean in only supported the joyful feeling romping around in his chest. James felt more and more hopeful about their situation, about hers. Hope to change it and fix what happened to her. It was a sign to him that Natalia was in there, simply waiting for her time. He'd help her with that.

Natalia had been pressed close enough to his back that he felt when her body jumped minimally. He frowned, and although he couldn't take his eyes off the road, he thought about it. Something in her mind, perhaps? He didn't know, but it drew James more serious again. This mission might be too soon... for any of this.

While they put them together out of necessity, he was sure it may be a practical test to see if Natalia would return the same. If he wanted them to have more together, ones with more time... he may need to wait.

<"We can suffocate him as if it were on his own blood,"> James said simply, not persisting with the English merely because they were speaking of the mission. He could then make it, so he was bleeding internally. His arm could be made to hit hard enough that it would reflect impact with the car.

It was also difficult to switch languages back and forth when he struggled again with his focused mentality. Even Natalia could not fully drag his mind from its mission. Although when she'd stopped him from killing those men at the academy, he had paused instead of hurting her, so he took reassurance from that.

The men who had found the Academy. It clicked for him, suddenly, that those men weren't men... they... he knew them. No. James Barnes knew them. He suddenly wished for the files under the bed back at the academy to unconfuse him. He tried, though, to put names to faces... the one with the mustache especially felt familiar... Nothing. Finally, James grunted in pain and gave up.

Natalia was speaking of the mission now, which didn't help the pain. So he ended up focused on his mission instead. Although he could hardly hear her, he had to drop their speed again and shout to be heard.

<"Very good,"> He replied warmly, his mind still focused. That was his plan as well. <"The car we attain will be sufficient to ram them off the road."> With any luck, he'd die just like that. He never accounted for luck, though, he’d work with the assumption it didn’t happen. <"Then it will seem they crashed into each other. Or an animal."> Whichever lie the state came up with.

<"The difficulty is the security."> They could not be allowed to fire on them in a way that would leave evidence. Of course, bullets could be replaced and retrieved off the ground. But if it pierced anyone, they would not be so fortunate. <"No bruises that couldn't be made from a car crash,"> He responded and veered off the freeway towards the exit for the stronghold.

Romanova nodded even though he couldn't see her.

<"We simply need to get close enough to him. With some luck the security will die from the accident’s impact,"> she agreed and thought about their mission. Thinking about it was comfortable for her. It was like second nature and didn't bring the unbearable headache. So she retreated to that. For once, she started to overthink completing the ordeal. It didn't even occur to her that she usually went to improvise depending on how the situation worked out. Yet it seemed second nature to plan things out with the Winter Soldier to ensure he was alright with her own plan. It almost was an urge to do so.

Her mind snapped as he spoke warmly and looked at him. Again so strange to hear that kind of voice. It surprised her and she eyed him curiously just for a second before her gaze went calculated again.

<"Animal would be better. No hit and run and everything. The press cannot spin it into some sort of conspiracy theory,"> She told him seriously as she tried hard to keep the mindset and not get confused by the warm and almost gentle voice. She shook her head a bit. Should they also go hunting for an animal to leave a carcass there? Almost instantly, her mind screamed 'no' because there would be bullets within the roadkill but then again... The government could influence the police department into not looking into the carcass....

<"Should we go hunting for an animal they might have crashed into?"> she asked for his opinion.

<"Okay. No foreign bruises,"> she agreed and set her mind on that. Romanova held tighter on him as they exited the freeway so she wouldn't slip away from the motorcycle.

Luck wasn't pertinent to the mission. Plans needed to be made for the more challenging scenario so it could be conquered should it arise. Animals? He considered it and would tuck it away for a backup. It could explain the car crash.

Perhaps... he nodded and would have to think of the logistics. They could have the 'animal' hit the first car, and while he stopped their car, Natalia could crash their vehicle into the back ones to barricade them all together. They should have only one escort car, but it could be more.

<"Perhaps, if we have time,"> He responded. Otherwise, a deer could have hit them and ambled off. But Natalia was correct; with a carcass there, it would be easy to prove that was the culprit. The cars were speeding, perhaps swerved because of it. She voiced her understanding and his mind continued with two different plans for the mission until they arrived at the warehouse.

He checked in and they were left alone beside one escort that eyed Natalia as he selected their vehicle. He took the file and compared the makes. The Soldier nodded and took the keys and a better arsenal, offering Natalia to pick from them.

Finally, he loaded the bike into the back of the car. <"We may need to split up,"> He informed her as he closed the hatch on the black SUV. The maps he requested upon entering the facility were given to him and they were back on the road.

James slipped further and further away from being in the department and preparing the equipment for the mission. He was silent and focused on the drive there, and when they'd reached the nearest small town to the site, he parked the car in a public garage and retrieved the motorcycle so they could scope the area themselves.

Half a day later, they were finally able to scope the mission. They'd been contacted that the target had begun his journey to the capitol. He would pass here in less than a day, and the Soldier felt sure they were prepared as he looked over the scene.

<"Do you still require the animal?"> He asked, eyebrow-raising. It may be time-consuming to acquire one, but they were ahead of schedule. They worked well together.... the thought loosened his focus, pulling at the thread that was Natalia in his mind.

He glanced at her, seeing her suddenly and smiled once softly. Out here alone... he could do that openly and not need to sneak a glance.

Romanova nodded her head as he said they could do so if they still had time to do so. She thought about the possibility and what they needed to take care of. It wouldn't be about finding a suitable animal but what they needed to hunt it. They could make it look like it was hit by a vehicle. Somehow, the Winter Soldier seemed to have another plan, or so it seemed to her. It would be better to stick to his. He was in control of the mission, after all.

Subconsciously she was aware of the gaze of the guard. But her facial expression was blank, ready to follow any given order. It was almost like she had become a robot waiting for any task. Once he offered that she should pick something, she went for things that could imply that the victim was strangled to death. She ignored both knives and guns until it clicked, she might need a weapon to hunt a deer. So she secured it in the holster on her thigh. Apart from that, she was almost naked regarding tactical gear. It was clear that things weren't allowed to look like they had been shot or stabbed to death. A bruise from a strangle could look like it came from the safety belt post-mortem.

Once they were back on the road to their destination, Natalia was quieter than before. It almost seemed like she was lost in thoughts, but there weren't any. Her mind was blank except for the mission. She focused on it and made plans for any possibility of what might happen. She helped to secure the location and walked around, trying to figure out where the animals lived.

She was back and helped him with the rest. They were faster than what he seemed to have anticipated. Apparently, they were back on her idea of the mission.

<"No, I don't have a carcass yet,"> she answered, as he hadn't told her to hunt a deer yet. So she had remained from actually pursuing - just looking for them yet.

<"But about half a mile from here is a pond from which animals seem to drink. With some patience, a deer should appear,"> she told him, waiting for his approval to finally go and hunt one. She was so focused on her tasks that she didn't even notice that he had become more focused on her than the actual mission.

<"We can go together,"> He offered, his eyes sweeping the area again. It was all set up as it should be; this roadway was the only one within decent range they could pass through to get to the Kremlin.

The tree cover would be sufficient enough for him to leap out of and stop the car in front of him. Natalia could then ram into the other behind it when he jumped out of the way. He supposed the animal would do well for the cover. <"A deer or a bear would be sufficient,">. He mentioned as he headed towards the treeline.

Besides, there was much time for Natalia and him to return to the town and bring the car back here, along with the motorcycle they could depart on once it was finished.

This was the optimal time to talk to her; he still debating how far he could take things on a first mission... but he could at least enjoy it minimally. He thought about what she used to do, and usually... she just talked. Chatted about things he didn't deem necessary. Perhaps that was an excellent first step without prodding.

"Are you cold, Natalia?" He asked her, eyeing her jacket for a moment. It was likely sufficient, but it was colder in this region than that jacket probably helped.

She simply nodded and went towards the pond she had spotted hours earlier. She frowned at the mention of a bear and glanced at the Soldier. A bear would explain such damage, but those were usually smart enough to stay away from streets and humans. So the deer would be easier to hunt than the bear. <"We'll look for big animals,"> the Widow agreed and loaded her gun for the hunt.

She stopped walking and looked down at herself as soon as he asked if she was cold. Such a silly question confused her greatly. It had nothing to do with the mission, so she hadn't thought about or realized the chilly environment until now. So, why was he concerned about that in the first place? Was it essential for the mission whether or not she was warm? Almost instantly, Romanova knew that the answer to her own question was no. It was simply about her comfort, but that didn't matter in the success of the mission.

"A little... but it doesn't matter," she replied, truthfully unknowingly switching to English like he had. Romanova frowned even more as it seemed like things were becoming colder now that she thought about the weather. The urge to speak the truth to the Winter Soldier was there. They had told her two things: to do as she was told by him and to tell the truth. No tricks whatsoever.

She stopped suddenly and James turned a curious gaze towards her. She was staring, her eyes distant in a different way than the hollow look they both now shared at times. He looked at her sympathetically and just a bit guiltily. Such a strange new emotion, but Natalia bringing such things out of him shouldn't really surprise him anymore, should it?

"Yes. It does." He told her firmly, but his voice was low and soft. He was pleased she'd spoken in English, prompting a small smile from him again. Then, he snorted, amused suddenly at the warring expression on her face, wondering if it would irritate her as it would Natalia. James shrugged quickly out of his thick winter jacket. Before she could protest, he dropped it around her shoulders.

"Stay warm, Natalia," He told her and continued their walk not far from her. He had more stamina than she did, to begin with. It was more about wanting to keep her safe.

Besides, it reminded him of a time not too long ago, as they hobbled down that dark alleyway; it had been as close to something... his mind struggled with sudden, painful flashes, but as he'd coached her to do soon enough... he tried not to push James Barnes' memories away. The gesture in the alleyway, it was close to that man.

Somehow.

James glanced at her to try to alleviate some of the pain pressing down on his head. Here, with his jacket, he wasn't trying to recreate that memory; James simply wanted to show her kindness. He couldn't prod yet, but he could be kind to her as she had been to him. She'd been through so much already and was still too young to have been through what she had. Someone like her didn't deserve such things.

Romanova visibly tried to shake the feeling off of her. Cold didn't matter, but their mission's success did. Feeling cold wouldn't stop her from taking out the guards and their target like they had planned the past hours. Everything was designed to the smallest detail and she needed to stick to the plan: Making their victims look like they hadn't survived a car crash caused by an animal. Something that innocent so the government wouldn't be blamed by the press.

Her grim focus was broken in confusion again as he told her it did matter. Did it? She couldn't see any scenario where it mattered, but he was the Winter Soldier, so he was always correct from her point of view. They had told her that. They were always accurate and she was wrong. It seemed to be a spiral she couldn't escape from, even here in a field she should know well. She was wrong about something so small as the importance of being cold.

What surprised her the most was that no punishment followed the fact that she had been wrong. Instead, the Soldier remained nice, almost gentle and even lent her his jacket. That's what undid her thoughts and she looked at him, battling with his statement to stay warm.

<"You should keep the jacket, Soldier! If it's important for the mission to stay warm, then it's more important that you keep it!"> she told him sternly, but a headache came. Wearing his jacket felt familiar and like he was enveloping her in a secure hug. It felt familiar even though it shouldn't. It made her want to shed his jacket even more to escape that familiarity, but he had been clear to keep it on.

Soldier... and not Winter. He vaguely remembered her young declarations that it was not a name, and she wished not to call him it. Nevertheless, hearing that same term for him on her lips was disappointing.

Her distress pulled him from any mourning over it. She was more critical now. He had to do the work now to help her later.

"It is not for the mission Natalia," He told her simply, in English, stressing her name. He felt sympathetic again because he knew that declaration would confuse and pain her. So it did for him, but still, at times, it didn’t. Again, James wanted this to be kindness and nothing more. No reason, no necessity... James just wanted her to be warm. Safe and protected.... although he knew the latter two were not something he could promise her.

James could promise her warmth. From him... promise to find it again in her. Relight that tremendous fire that burned so brightly. He'd give anything to be burned by it right now. All this seemed like such a waste of time. They could be together, alone. He was so tempted, looking at her, thinking on that mission, to cup her face, feel her skin on his, taste her lips again... it could work. He wanted it so badly.

He knew that was fantasy. It was not how such things worked. Natalia's warmth was stolen from him and herself, and he needed to work intelligently to get it back.

"I have more stamina, I will get colder slower than you, and you are also necessary," He informed her to ease any distress she had and provide an out in a briefing. A logical reason for her to fall to, as he built in for himself. No one was better than him at that. It was necessary because he knew when they asked him, he had no choice but to answer those who controlled him. He knew he was controlled in this way by the Soldier, but James could decide what to feed the Soldier in some instances.

He'd do the same for her, even if she didn't consciously know it. It was imperative when she reported back. Until a time, they trusted her more and he could prod. For now, he felt it was safe enough to push her limit on things beyond a mission, to plant the idea there were such things without any pain attached.

It's not for the mission... It echoed in her mind and she frowned. The thought brought a headache because nothing was necessary besides the mission itself. Painful. It was not one of those light ones that she learned to live with. It was a piercing one, almost like her skull was divided into two parts; but that was irrational. No one tried to split it via force. Romanova simply flinched and brought her hand up to her temple.

She looked at him, trying to make sense of it, ut there was no reason for him to act this way towards her. Nothing about the mission like he had just stated. How he looked at her was like he was looking for something gone... It smoothed her frown and she looked back at him for a moment. Her mind wasn't occupied with the mission for a split second. It was almost like recognition sparkled in her gaze, but it was vastly replaced by confusion again.

Romanova nodded shortly and it did make sense. She wasn't as important as he was to this mission, but it would help no one if she froze. Of course, he would get his jacket back as soon as he showed signs of freezing, but she somewhat thankfully sunk into his jacket's warmth and safety. It was irrational, but it was the same feeling of security which had driven her to search for the room in which the Winter Soldier had trained.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly and even slipped her arms into the sleeves of his jacket. She breathed in and shortly closed her eyes and a short smile appeared on her lips that was more one of Natalia than the Black Widow and her headache disappeared.

<"We're almost at the pond,"> she told him as she opened her eyes again while focussing on their mission. It made her headache go away and she seemed to relax even more.

He saw her there, under all the confusion. Or he imagined it, which was maybe more likely. Except this was Natalia, and he decided she could and would be able to. What mattered was that something was there, but he gave her the out so she wouldn't shut down or go too quickly. She'd been unstable in the sparring room; bringing her back to that point would help no one.

His mission required he didn't, too; the errant thought flickered through his mind.

James forced past it, easing the demands in his mind by looking for the animal again. He was rewarded with her smile. As she closed her eyes, her face seemed almost peaceful. James' chest warmed considerably and he watched with a certain amount of relief. Just his jacket brought out some of the closeness between them... and the hardship of this was worth seeing her smile like that again.

He refocused himself, falling in line with how well they worked together.

<"You're more silent than I,"> He told her he had never realized, but Natalia had before and commented. <"Go ahead and see if there's anything there. I will come up behind you and kill anything there."> He could make it appear as if it had been a death caused by impact and it would be safer for him to tussle with the animal if need be.

He also seemed to focus and gave her orders to go to the pond. What stopped her movement was the mention that she was more silent than he was. She hadn't realized that until now, but he was right. Every move he made was so damn loud to her. Even now, when he was standing still and breathing, he was louder than she was.

Romanova nodded and relaxed her body before she walked silently towards the pond. It was almost like she made no sound to the naked ear. Shee was sure that animals that could hear way better than they did would actually listen to her or hear them talk. So her hopes weren't that high to actually get to see an animal they could use as an excuse.

She was right about it. There were no animals around, but perhaps if she stayed really still and quiet, a deer might come their way. The Black Widow lost her sense of time as she waited quietly; it was almost like she was meditating. Finally, shortly before she wanted to return, her patience was rewarded. A smile appeared on her lips as a significant but beautiful deer appeared. It was almost too pure to be killed for something like this… but her sense of duty kicked in and she waved for the Soldier to move quickly.

The wait made him irritable and also made any control over himself slip away. Finally, he fell back beneath the surface of the Winter Soldier and he crouched down to let her wait for the animal. His focused mind went over their plans repeatedly, ensuring they were utterly efficient. Tweaking specific goals and adding backup measures.

Time didn't pass when he was like this, and it was no more or less time when she waved to him. He walked as silently as possible, but his weight and boots crunched enough as he got close that it spooked the animal. The Soldier sprung forward at that point and luckily, the pond made it run around and gave him time to catch up and finish it off.

He dragged it back to the road with her and tied it up in a tree so nothing could come to eat it before they got back. He was not sure where he knew to do that, but the information filled in as necessary.

<"We will go back now. To town. There is enough allotted time. We will bring the car back."> He informed her and retrieved the motorcycle from where they'd hidden it.

Romanova watched him spring forward and finish the animal. It didn't take long, even though he had been loud again. Finally, she left her hideout and helped him secure the carcass to a tree. She was impressed by this idea because she hadn't thought about that herself.

Once they were back at the motorcycle, she slipped out of his jacket and spoke. <"You need to warm up. The wait must've cooled your body."> That was an odd thought to her, but his earlier mention of how important it was to stay warm for the mission made her give it back to him and realize that he must feel cold by now. So again, she sat behind him with her hands placed around his midriff as they drove back to the garage.

He looked at her, slightly more thoughtful, as he took the jacket from her. His body wasn't hypothermic, so he hadn't addressed it. He didn't take note of it as long as it didn't shut down or malfunction. He didn't usually feel it either, but when he slid the jacket on, he did note his body's temperature rose.

The gesture made him smile, and he had brushed her hand purposefully when he took the coat. It wasn't incriminating, but it felt good to linger. Much better than the jacket.

Their touch and the drive back loosened his mind, but not as it had before. He was too close to his mission and had to time it out perfectly. They could not be spotted, so as they reached the garage, he turned to her and tossed her the keys. <"You will need to find a close spot to pull off and hide until they pass you. Then I will intercept on the road.">

Natalia looked back at him, unaware of him purposefully brushing his hand against hers. But it still made something jump within her and a small smile appeared on her lips. But nothing apart from the smile said that she had noticed the small motion and the tingle ran through her body by mere touch. But Romanova didn't address it because it didn't seem necessary for their mission. In fact quite the opposite. If it was anything, it would be distracting.

They’d made their way back to the nearby town without further incident, and she registered they were nearing their missions’ time frame when he parked. The Black Widow caught the keys and nodded dutifully.

<"I will make sure that they have no space to get away and escape,"> Romanova told him, focusing entirely on the mission now. They hadn’t been seen entering and could ensure the same of them leaving.

James checked his watch so they could wait the five minutes necessary to have any passersby not notice them leaving so soon after arriving. When it was time, he remained silent and got on the bike again and rechecked his motorcycle’s guages.

<"Sync our watches,"> He told her and pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to do so with her. Then he pulled a set of radios. <"Channel three."> He informed her as he tossed her the second radio and pinned the first one to his vest. <"Wait for twenty mikes out before following to the designated zone..">

She did as told, pulled up her sleeve, and ensured their watches were in sync. She caught the radio and turned it to the third channel as ordered.

<"I will wait,"> she gave him a short nod before getting into the driver's seat and waiting for him to leave before she looked at her watch to wait for the ordered 25 minutes. She sighed and checked her clock from time to time until it was time to leave. The Black Widow started the vehicle and thought about waiting one more minute, but the urge to please the Soldier's orders was more significant than the thought of staying longer.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, he had hidden the bike down the stretch of road from where they would institute the crash and circled back to where the animal was.

He'd already checked to ensure they'd left no tracks or breaks in branches or something to designate something more significant than an animal had been through. He wiped away a few of his boot prints and returned to the tree to untie the animal and heft it on his shoulders. He set it nearer the road for easy retrieval, took his rope from the tree, and repeated his steps to erase any footprints.

Then James waited.

Until he heard a car approach about a mile down the road, and, checking his watch, he assumed it was Natalia. She had not checked in yet, and he raised his radio to his face.

<"Asset to November."> He called, waiting for a response. <"Are you in place?">

The radio crackled on with the Winter Soldier asking for her perimeters. It had taken her longer than necessary to get in place. There had been a slow car in front of her but Romanova had known better than to overtake the car. It would only raise suspicion but perhaps she was only getting paranoid. Two minutes later she finally pulled into a hideout which seemed big enough for her car without her destroying the natural environment.

<"November to Asset: I'm in place, now,"> She confirmed even though she was unsure why he called her November. Romanova was the last one to question her aliases.

The radio went on with the Winter Soldier asking for her perimeters. It had taken her longer than necessary to get in place. There was a slow car in front of her. But Romanova had known better than to overtake the vehicle. It would only raise suspicion, but perhaps she was only getting paranoid. Two minutes later, she finally pulled into a hideout which seemed big enough for her car without her destroying the natural environment.

<"November to Asset: Target in range, but has back-up. I'll take care of it, but you must take care of the target. He is ahead of me. They must've expected something like this,"> Romanova called into the radio, not waiting for a reply or an order. Her head started aching by actively going against the ordered plan but it was a necessity for the success of her mission.

Romanova hit the brakes and her vehicle came to a halt. Without thinking, she shifted into reverse and hit with full speed force. Her car sped backwards and the back hit the second car full frontal. The impact knocked her forward against the steering wheel, leaving her panting for air. She felt dazed for a moment as the airbag hit her in the face, breaking her nose. She didn't have much time to think or recover. The Black Widow quickly moved out of the car, suddenly missing her gun, which she wasn't allowed to use.

She hurried to the back of her car and towards the second one. The driver's door opened and Romanova kicked it close full force making the man whine in pain.

She used the short moment to glance into the car. At least their target wasn't there. In fact, the car was almost empty instead of packed with security. Only two men were inside and Romanova looked in disbelief. She must've stepped right into their trap.

The first car with its target must be packed with security. This one was supposed to lure the second possible assassin away.

She wanted to hurry back to her car to get back to the mission, but it was too late.

The man from the driver's seat was already out to fight her. He slammed her against the trunk of her car and pressed down on her throat with a force that would surely leave marks. Romanova got dizzy as she wasn't able to breathe. She kicked full force against the man's chest, making him stumble away. She stood there panting for breath for a moment before she went to attack and fight.

Why she hadn't seen the second head fake was beyond her. All she could do was pull her opponent in front of her own body. She used him as a shield for the most impact. Romanova should've watched the second man. While she was busy fighting the first. The second man had pulled out a grenade and thrown it in their direction.

It detonated and slammed her against trees with the man in front of her. Romanova fell unconscious as her whole body felt like it was on fire.

She confirmed and he lay in wait. He'd started to get into position when his radio went off. He looked down with a growl in his throat. Backup would have implications for the secrecy of the mission. Past that, all the Soldier heard was that the target had passed through checkpoint one. It came speeding past him, clearly acknowledging the trouble behind them.

It did no good when the Soldier jumped into the road and planted his feet. He looked at the car, going twenty or more miles faster than they'd planned for and with aching, unignorable pain, he threw his left arm up and took the impact of the car hitting him.

He was slammed backwards, the hot pavement heating the rubber in his boots. He may not have stopped the car, but the impact with his metal arm made the car buckle in around it some. The driver prepared to hit the gas and the Soldier was thrown over the hood.

He hit it with a challenging twist and barely could flip his hand around enough to dig into the metal of the hood. They slowed, with their vision impaired, and it was enough for him to let go and appear to fly off. He caught the top of the vehicle with his hand instead. The Winter Soldier rode along the top for a moment before he oriented himself and slid down the side of the car.

His feet hit the rail below the car and he reached out to force the car door open with his metal arm, the locks breaking in the process. The car swerved, brakes squealing as he threw himself inside the car. As he knocked the driver over the head, his foot collided with the passenger security. He used the man's head to kick himself into the back seat and took his metal hand to ram each of the guard's heads into the back of the front seats hard enough their skulls cracked.

He slipped past the middle man and his foot broke the neck of the next man in the very back. Just as the other reached for his gun, the Soldier grabbed ahold of his head and banged it violently against the window side three times. He slumped and the Soldier grabbed the man in front of him to stop him from scrambling away.

The Soldier twisted and his cold, dead eyes landed on his target. He reached out for his head, as well, when suddenly, the two of them were thrown forward into the seats as the car crashed into the tree line. It disoriented him and his hearing went out, vision-threatening, but he pushed through it. The target was dizzily trying to push up off the console where his upper body had landed.

The Soldier twisted in the car and cupped the back of the man's head. He yanked him back and looked him in the face to double-check it was the target and not a doppelganger, considering his partner had had complications.

Target confirmed.

<“Please… the citizens must know… they deserve…”> The man begged as the Soldier rammed his head into the console once… twice… and then his target was eliminated. He stilled as the target was destroyed and checked around the car. All marks were dead, and no guns or weapons were drawn. He climbed out of the car, satisfied his mission was completed.

He climbed around the car, adjusted the door he'd broken earlier, tore it off its top hinge, and left it hanging there so it would appear the impact had broken it. Then he walked around to where the car had wrapped around the tree. He checked the hood over and with his metal fingers, he smoothed the grooves of his own fingers into a circular dent before he shoved a branch against it and melded it against the hood.

The Soldier didn't have time for further inspection because the ground around him shook with an explosion. His eyes turned sharply south and he took off at a quick run to get to the first checkpoint with the Black Widow.

He dragged the deer out on his way and made it look like it had been hit on the road before he made his way to the explosion. There could be no witnesses… and there was not supposed to be an explosion, especially not so far away.

When he got on the scene, he quickly saw a man edging closely towards where the signs of a small explosion were. Subtly gone from this site, it would need to be scrubbed, he reached to the side of his leg and withdrew his handgun. He walked up closer before firing two shots. One went into the man's chest, the second straight through the back of his head. He dropped near the rubble and the Soldier's eyes accessed quickly for more.

None.

This needed to be fixed quickly. Perhaps if the tree was not damaged, these two cars could be disposed of and the primary scene further north could be contained as it ought to be. He reached into his vest for the smaller, long-range radio he'd used back at the Academy.

<“Asset reporting, mission compromised. Over.>

<“Mission report.”>

<All targets eliminated. Prime target site contained. Secondary site active. Clean up require-"> His words were cut off by a secondary blast. The fire from the explosion had hit the second car they had brought and blew. The Soldier was thrown back over, arms blocking his face as they scraped across the asphalt. He shook it off quickly and looked down at his broken radio.

He snarled and crushed the broken parts under his fist. Their car for the mission ahead was now nothing more than a burning frame. The Soldier could do no more but wait for cleanup and extraction, eliminating any who showed up at either of the scenes.

His eyes fell over their burning car. The car…... Natalia.

His mind reeled for a second, and a momentary panic took over the Soldier's stoic nature. He ran towards the car, looking over the burning frame for a body. None. He ran to the second car; that second half was shredded by whatever had caused the explosion. He ducked through it and found nothing. He stepped over the body he'd slugged down. His eyes darted over the scene and it wasn't until he dropped down into the side embankment that he saw something.

He found one burned body and his hands hovered before he took in size, and with detached relief, he knew it was not her. Instead, he could see someone underneath, and with his unnatural strength, he flung the dead body off of her and threw it high through the air and back onto the road.

<"Natalia!"> He called as he looked her injuries over. She did not respond and the Soldier leaned down to check for a breath. He didn't feel anything and wrapped his hand around her neck, thumb pressing into the side of it to find a pulse. It was there... it was there but very weak. He scrambled for the secondary radio and tried to extend the channel... but there was nothing.

He took in her condition. Her face was covered with blood, her clothes were singed. There seemed to be a thick part of a branch that had pierced her forearm. The Soldier knew how long an extraction team would take... and if she had any internal bleeding or the burns were too bad, she would die with such a weak pulse.

A war broke out within him, and his narrowed irises glanced wildly between her and the road. He had to stay, make sure no one stumbled upon the scenes. His mission was never over until he hit extraction, but... Natalia would die, especially without some sort of medical care. His hands, metal and flesh, hovered over her. She may die. His mission was primarily complete.... but how could he get her to help? It did not...

His gaze landed on the road. The motorcycle. It had been tucked away for their quick extraction. The thought and the sight of her forced him into action, and James grabbed ahold of his shirt beneath his vest and yanked at the material. It hung limply between his fingers as he grabbed ahold of her arm and peeled it out of the branch. He wrapped the fabric over her wound as a makeshift tourniquet and pulled off her extra gear, so she would have less pressure on the light burn wounds.

Then he did his best not to jostle her as he pulled her into his arms and raced down the highway. He passed his mission and flinched as his head burned from his lack of correct protocol. He... her coming back alive, that had to be to the mission's success, did it not? He knew, deep down, it wasn't true, but it was enough to force his feet to move again to his own will.

He dug out the motorcycle and placed Natalia awkwardly, facing his chest as he got on the bike. Then, with his metal arm, he cradled her broken body against his and kicked the bike into gear to race them away from the scene.

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