#and taking it upon himself to always be there for ai EVERY TIME IT RAINS/THE POWER GOES OUT? SHUT UPPP
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putterphubase · 3 months ago
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I'm sorry.
I SAW YOU IN MY DREAM | EPISODE 5
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heybeybey · 4 years ago
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Ai-Ai Gasa
Since seeing this post from @rivapetosprmcy, I keep thinking of a “sequel” of sorts where Levi catches Petra drawing the love umbrella. 
Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra
Genre: Romance
Summary:  
What are those two up to now?
Levi decided to approach Petra and Oluo but before he can even speak up, he finally sees what Petra wrote on the wall. 
Huh, so this is the reason why she always serves him tea first. 
---
Levi takes the last few coins, pocketing the change before nodding at the shopkeeper in thanks. Today’s their scheduled biweekly restocking day and as usual, his squad insisted that they all go together since it can be a “bonding moment” of sorts for the whole team. 
Eld and Gunther went off to restock their alcohol, medicine and bandages while he, Petra and Oluo go for the groceries. He asked Oluo and Petra to wait outside as he wraps up and pays for their items, making sure they’re not forgetting anything. 
Instead of seeing them just a few steps outside of the shop, Oluo and Petra are across the street. They were facing a wall as they discuss something.  
What are those two up to now?
Petra started to write something on the wall. 
Great. 
He leaves his subordinates alone for a few minutes and now they’re fucking around and committing vandalism. 
Instead of calling out to them, Levi decided to approach Petra and Oluo. Before he can even speak up, he stops as he finally sees what Petra wrote on the wall.
Huh, so this is the reason why she always serves him tea first.
A triangle with a line in the middle. The words “Capt. Levi” and “Petra” written on each side. A heart above to top it all off.
He knows what that symbol means. Levi may be the oldest in their team but he’s not stupid.
“Ral. Bozado.” He sees the both of them freeze and if he was the type who’d laugh out loud, he’d be slapping his knee right now. 
He retains his impassive face instead as Oluo immediately turns around. 
“Captain Levi!” Oluo exclaimed, trying to shield the wall from him.
Petra, on the other hand, remains frozen on the spot. 
“I believe I called you, Ral.” 
Petra still refuses to face him and he notices how the hand holding the nail she drew the symbol with was starting to shake. He’s slightly concerned because it seems she stopped breathing too. Seeing that she won’t be turning around anytime soon, he steps forward instead, giving Oluo a pointed look to move away. 
His eyes scans his and Petra’s names on the wall before turning his head towards said woman. 
“You have good handwriting. Considering that you wrote this with a nail,” he says casually, as if they’re just discussing the weather and not a younger subordinate having a raging crush on her superior.  
Her face is so red now, he’d think she got bitchslapped ten times. 
“Captain, I’m sorry! It doesn’t mean anything. I swear!” she finally blurts out. 
“Mhmm.”
“Oluo and I were just messing around, right Oluo?”
Oluo doesn’t answer. Most likely scared that he’ll get his butt kicked by the captain if he does join the conversation. Levi remains silent, assessing the situation, before speaking up to address his other subordinate.
“Oluo, go help Eld and Gunther. They’re doing a shit job for something as simple as shopping for medical supplies.”
Oluo hesitates for a moment, looking between Petra and Levi before saluting him and walking away. 
“Captain, please don’t kick me out of the squad!” Petra exclaims once they’re both alone. 
“Petra-”
“I’ll be on toilet duty for three months! Or! Paperwork maybe? Do you want me to do all your paperwork instead? Of course, you’ll still have to supervise but at least you don’t have to stay up late every night-
“Ral-”
“No, wait. I’ll buy all your cleaning supplies for a year straight or-or- I can pay for all your tea supplies-”
“My salary’s higher than yours, Ral.” 
“There must be some way I can make up for this. Do you want me to shoulder the whole team’s chores instead? I didn’t mean to disrespect you captain-”
“Pet-”
“I promise I’ve never allowed my feelings to get in the way!”
“Feelings?” he replies in an almost amused tone. “I thought you said it doesn’t mean anything.”
She finally deflates. “Captain, I’m sorry...”
He watches her and it’s quite comical that the woman in front of him is the type who’d be brave enough to jump straight into a titan’s mouth and kill it from the inside out. By just (accidentally) revealing a crush, her whole body’s shaking  and he just knows she’s about to cry. 
He feels his chest tighten at that thought. 
Awkward silence. Deep down, he knows he should shout at her to stop this shit at once. Romance and feelings shouldn’t have a place in the Scouts. Not when there’s a risk that they’ll die every month. Instead of listening to his better judgement, he allows his curiosity to get the best of him instead. 
“Is this what you meant when you said that you wanted to devote yourself to me?”
Petra seems to realize that there’s no way out of his question. Lying will only get her in further trouble. Who knows what the commander would do if he finds out? Much more if he learns that she flat out lied to her direct commanding officer? “...yes, sir.”
“I see.” He’s quiet for a moment, watching Petra deflate further. It seems the woman may be thinking that she really will get kicked out of the Special Ops now. 
Levi, for all his attempts to repress his sexual urges and feelings, does recognize the fact that his 24-year-old subordinate is beautiful. She’s also kind and skilled to boot. He’s seen the way Oluo looks at her and how even some Scout recruits try to find the guts to approach her and ask her for “tips” when really, it’s just a veiled attempt to get closer to her.
He never allows himself to explore feelings beyond friendship when it comes to Petra. He shouldn’t have even allowed friendship in the first place. How she wormed her way in, he still doesn’t know to this day. 
Levi continues when he noticed that Petra’s emotions show just how her mind is starting to spiral downwards, his voice more quiet than before. “I’m not worth it, Petra.”
That causes her head to snap up. “Sir?” 
“You’re better off with someone who’s not a grumpy midget.” He remembers how Hange can also get creative when describing people. 
In his mind, it’s true. He’s a 34-year-old man who never had a girlfriend. He knows how to kill titans but he doesn’t even know how to romance a girl. He’s a former thug from the Underground and 90% of the women he’d met are taller than him. He knows that if not for his “Humanity’s Strongest” status, he’d be the last man most would choose to go out on a date with. 
He actually heard it once, while he and Erwin were walking along a street in Sina. Two women were giggling and whispering to one another as Levi and Erwin passed by their table in front of a tea shop. 
“Oh, I’d totally bang the commander. Just look at him! I wouldn’t be surprised if half the Scouts are crushing on him. Think we can invite him over for dinner one day?” 
“How about the captain? They say he’s Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.”
“He’s alright, I guess.” The woman shrugs. “A bit on the short side for my taste though.”
“With how he’s always frowning, he actually reminds me of a gremlin,” the other answers in a whisper. 
“Do you think he’d be into blindfolds? I mean, I bet he’d be good in bed with all that training he gets but... you know.” 
The two nobles weren’t exactly discreet in their conversation and he remembers how Erwin gave him a sympathetic look. 
Not that he cares. 
Levi looks at Petra again. She’s been quiet for awhile but now, he sees that she’s now looking at him softly. His squad once noted how Petra’s huge eyes just highlights her emotions even more and this is the first time that he can actually agree. He feels captivated, staring back. 
“Captain...” For all her persistence to deny her feelings awhile ago, the emotions behind this one word reveals just how much truth the love umbrella holds.  
Levi doesn’t give her a chance to continue. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if this conversation actually goes somewhere. He breaks eye contact and turns away from her. 
“Let’s go. We need to go back to base. Training’s in an hour.”
----
Two weeks later, they went back to the market. Since they only needed to restock a few things, they didn’t need to bring the whole squad for this week’s scheduled shopping day. 
He and Petra were about to cross the street when the rain started to fall. Levi took it upon himself to open the umbrella to shield them both from the rain since he only had one bag in hand. 
As they huddle closer together inside the umbrella, Levi remembers their conversation a few weeks ago, the illustrated umbrella with his and her name below the sharp triangle flashes in his mind, and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the thought. 
It seems Petra is thinking of the same thing as he notes the soft blush on her cheeks. 
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lnarizakis · 4 years ago
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stickers found on fruits, or something like that | s. rintarou
pairing: suna rintarou x fem! reader
foreword: for ai, whose birthday is today (sept. 2)! thank you so much for being my friend, and i hope you have an amazing day today! many more to come!
wc: 1.7k
━━━━━━━━━━☆
Underneath your bed was a fairly-sized cardboard box that contained some of your most prized possessions. On the side of the box there was a poorly written label that read, “Stickers found on fruits or something like that.” You don’t remember who wrote it, or why it was written, for that matter, but every time you pulled out the box and read the label, you chuckled to yourself, knowing that it must have been a good memory for you at the time. There were four items inside the box: a pencil, a wrinkled, old sheet of paper with a sticker on it, a roll of athletic tape, and a jacket. 
A PENCIL. 
Back when you were in high school, you dubbed yourself as irresponsible. Many of your classmates looked upon you with disdain at your ridiculousness and lack of readiness. Your friend Miya Osamu always supplied you with pencils whenever you needed one, and you couldn’t thank him enough. You remember he always gave you a short nod in response to your gratitude. 
The one day that Osamu hadn’t brought any extra pencils when you so desperately needed one had you almost in tears. Your heartbeat raced, you grew a shortness of breath, and your eyes darted around the room, hoping someone was kind enough to lend you one of their pencils. Test day called for the utmost readiness, which you lacked. 
After a moment of your worries, the person in front of you turned around with sharp eyes that struck a chord in your heart. Pushing his bangs slightly out of the way, he gave you one of his pencils, telling you to stop making so much noise behind him. You relished in the sultry tone of his voice, breathing in the scent he wafted towards you, and you thought you actually might cry because of this god of a man. 
Next to you, Osamu watched you with second-hand embarrassment. You turned to him, eyebrows raised in confusion. He told you the boy in front of you was his teammate, Suna Rintarou. Your face warmed; now knowing his name, you felt the ghost of a connection between you two forming. 
Forgetful you kept the pencil in your bag after school and never returned it to Suna; he never asked for it back, anyways. 
A WRINKLED, OLD SHEET OF PAPER WITH A STICKER ON IT.
“Let’s see… that’s one, two, and three. Three mandarin oranges you’ve brought for lunch. And for what?” 
You stayed silent in embarrassment, eyes darting between Suna and Osamu in front of you, staring at the oranges perched on your desk. Lunch time was always entertaining, yet somehow embarrassing, for you. 
“One for each of you,” you explained, surprisingly without stammering. You placed a mandarin orange in their hands, which they began peeling right away. You removed the sticker on the peel of your orange, placing it on the piece of paper you had out on your desk. 
With a piece of the orange in his mouth, Osamu asked, “So, how are we going to do this project? Most of it requires work outside of school.” In response you and Suna remained quiet, thinking about what to do. Osamu then grabbed the paper on which you placed the sticker of your orange and handed it to Suna.
“Write your number on it, Suna. We’ll communicate better.” As Suna kept his head down while writing his phone number, Osamu turned towards you subtly and gave a slight raise of his eyebrows as a way to tell you just what exactly he was doing. You returned the smallest of smirks, as you knew he would want you to pay him back in one way or another. 
When Suna gave the paper back to you, he muttered out loud, “It’s not like we’re gonna actually do shit with our project. But it’ll be nice talking with you anyways.”
You straightened your back a little bit— to which he reciprocated, yet this passes your attention— and you felt yourself ease into the conversation, letting his lax nature take over you. You grinned, as you told him you thought the same. In the midst of this, you folded the paper you received and tucked it snug into the pocket of your jacket. 
Later in the evening, perhaps at around midnight when you were cooped up in your bedroom, you decided to set Suna’s contact into your phone. You hadn’t known your hands were shaking as you did so; the realization only hit when you found yourself accidentally calling him. Much to your surprise, he answered. 
“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to call you,” you told him, panic evident in your words. 
Though he himself showed no signs of tiredness, he told you, “It’s, like, midnight. You should go to sleep now.” You pursed your lips, eyes slowly moving around your room to find something on which to fixate your attention. 
After a moment’s worth of hesitation, you replied, “Shouldn’t you, too? You don’t sound tired at all.” 
“Love, I always sound tired. I’m perpetually tired.” You laughed at his words, masking the fluster from his slipping in a little pet name for you. Tension left your body as you once again relaxed into his voice, slightly distorted from the feedback of the phone. 
“You should rest.”
“And so should you.”
A ROLL OF ATHLETIC TAPE.
Checking the contents of your bag when you arrived, you were certain that the roll of athletic tape was stowed away in the hidden pocket. It seemed like the fluttering of your heart was a constant whenever you were to cheer Rintarou on at his games, and you hoped it was just all the walking you had to do to reach the gym at which they were located. 
When you entered the gym, you found your school cheering on the team, composed and intimidating as always. You didn’t want to come to conclusions, but you thought Rintarou had his eyes on the door since he stepped foot in the gym, because you locked eye contact with him as soon as you found him among his teammates. Subtly and slowly, he made his way towards you with a bored expression on his face, masking the fluster with which he would carry to the grave. 
The night before, you had told Rintarou that you were to tape his fingers, for you were afraid that he might injure his calloused hands once again. You kept your gaze down at the ground, observing how your feet compared in size to his, noting all the small details on his shoes, and comparing the cleanliness of his shoes to yours— anything it took for you not to look him in the eye, though you knew his eyes bore into yours. 
His fixated gaze on you made your hands feel clammy, making it hard to tape his fingers. It was an awkward, yet intimate moment between the two of you as you held his hands in yours, stabilizing them as you taped his fingers together, bandaging and protecting them against the hard spikes he would have to block.
When you finished, your eyes trailed upwards and into his own, and you muttered that you had. 
“Thanks,” was all he said. 
A JACKET. 
You didn’t want to think about how this situation even came to happen; it seemed like it was straight out of some shoujou manga on your bookshelf. It was a sunny day— emphasis on the was. Osamu, Rintarou, and you were walking home from school that day and after Osamu had left, a downpour came upon the two of you. You and Rintarou were left to take shelter underneath a shaded area in the nearby park. 
You were shuddering, being almost soaked with rain water. Next to you was the boy you loved, even if he kept sending mixed signals, telling you this on one day and that the next. He sat on the park bench, hunched over, as if he were deep in thought. In his peripheral vision he watched you shiver from the cold. 
In a second you felt a weight over you. It was Rintarou’s jacket, though equally as soaked as yours, but you warmed at the generosity. The both of you stayed silent. 
“I like you.”
You turned to him. “Say that again?”
He reciprocated your actions, eyes glaring into yours to the point you were afraid he was messing with your feelings. 
“I… Like… You.” He pointed to you, as if you still hadn’t understood what he meant. “You. I have feelings for you. Are there any other ways I should say it?”
You paused, letting a wave of confidence that you were to regret later wash over you, and you told him, “Yes: like this.” 
You scooted yourself closer to Rintarou, and plant a kiss on his cheek, wet from the rain. He cupped your cheek, bringing you closer to him, and he softly placed his lips over yours. 
━━━━━━━━━━☆
“You done reminiscing?” 
You were brought out of your trance by the man behind you, leaning against the frame of the door. Smiling at him, you set the jacket back into the cardboard box and stood up to wrap yourself in your fiancee’s arms. 
“I’m moving out of my house; how could I not reminisce?”
Rintarou nestled his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. “You’re right, I guess.” He gazed over at the items in the box. “Aren’t those things mine?” 
He let go of you and walked towards your prized possessions, and you followed shortly after, claiming that they’re yours. 
“No, no,” he said, “These are mine. Look!” He held up his jacket. “I gave this to you that one time when it was raining. That was the day I first told you I loved you.” 
Flustered, you retorted, “Well, technically, you said you liked me, but I guess there was the undertone of love when you first said that.” 
Rintarou knelt down to pick up the wrinkled paper with his phone number and the sticker on it. “This isn’t even my number anymore. Some rando probably has it now.” 
As you knelt down next to him, you pointed to the little sticker in the corner. “Well, that’s not yours,” you said.
“Those are one of those stickers found on fruits, or something like that.”
@wiintiier
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jawritter · 4 years ago
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The Arrangement
Part 6
Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.
Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!
Chapter Warnings: Nothing really, feels and tooth rooting fluff.
Word Count: 1897
A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!
Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader
Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!
***MASTERLIST***
***SERIES MASTERLIST***
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Jensen's POV:
A loud crack of thunder woke Jensen up as it rolled overhead. He automatically tightened his grip on Y/Nl aying next to him, pulling her sleeping body closer to his in hopes of keeping the storm that was rolling outside from waking her.
She'd been through a lot, and as much as she tried to hide it yesterday, he was afraid all of yesterday's events had taken their toll on her. Even though he was thinking about driving back to Austin earlier than planned, he quickly saw last night that she was going to need some time to recover, even if she didn't want to admit it to him.
What was concerning him more than anything, were his own feelings that he was already developing toward the young woman laying soundly asleep in his arms.
He shouldn't already be feeling these things. Hell they'd only really just meet yesterday! He didn't understand why he worried over her so much, why every time she nuzzled closer to him in her sleep his heart would skip a beat. Why every time he kissed her, it felt like he could fly around the room.
If Jensen was to be completely honest with himself, he’d never been in love with someone, and he knew it. The marriage with Danneel was nothing but a PR disaster that took 10 years to fall apart. Every other relationship he'd ever had never lasted long enough for him to develop feelings for anyone.
Right now with Y/N nuzzled into him as close as was possible, he was pretty sure he was already falling head over heels for her. One thing he was certain though, was he'd never felt this way about anyone before.
Another roll of thunder overhead and you stirred in his arms. Jensen froze, waiting to see if you were going to wake up. When you didn't, he reached over and grabbed his phone to look through his messages. Five were from Jared.
He was concerned for him, and Jensen knew it, but this was something that he just had to do. He needed this. He needed someone that would be faithful to him, someone that could learn to hopefully love him,  not just use him to get whatever they wanted from people, and exploit his pocket book.
Every woman he'd ever been with had only wanted him for their 15 minutes of fame, or what he could buy them. They never really loved him.
Y/n, being raised as she was, didn't really care about the money, and she definitely didn't want to be in the spotlight. They were trained against it. Jared was lucky when he found Gen. Why didn't he deserve to find the same thing?
Your POV:
A loud bang of thunder followed by a  crack of lightning woke you up with a start. As soon as you jumped, Jensen tightened his arms around you.
"It's okay baby I got you." he whispered, pulling you impossibly close to his warm body while you tried to control your breathing. You had been asleep hard and honestly, had slept harder than you'd slept in a long time. Which meant it took a few minutes for you to catch up with your surroundings, and your current situation. 
You didn't know if it was from exhaustion, or from the fact that for some unexplained reason you felt safe in Jensen's arms. Safer than you'd ever felt in your life, that you just crashed last night. 
"What time is it?" you finally mumbled, laying there listening to the rain pound down on the roof and windows above the two of you. It was peaceful. The storm raging outside, the comfortable dark bedroom, and Jensen wrapped up as close as possible with you. It was the closest to heaven you'd think you'll ever get here on earth.
Even though you knew you shouldn't be feeling these things this early, you couldn't help it. There was something about Jensen that just made you feel complete, whole in a sense, especially after the loss of everything that was close to you.
"Little after 10, I say we just stay right here today sweetheart, you need to rest, you've been through a lot. Let's just stay in bed all day, and get used to just being with each other. There’s no rush to get back to Austin."
You couldn't help the stupid smile that plastered across you face. 
"That sounds great to me." you tell him, stretching in his arms a little as Jensen’s eyes shamelessly racked over what of your body that was exposed to him. Your body immediately protested against the movement, soreness racking through you. Jensen didn't miss the fact that you winced slightly.
"Let me go draw you a bath sweetheart, It'll help." Jensen said, he looked worried.
"You know I'm supposed to be the one pampering you, not the other way around. I didn't even wake up early enough to fix you breakfast this morning. So far I suck at this."
You really did feel like you'd failed. You couldn’t get used to the thought of him wanting to take care of you. You should have already been out of bed, breakfast fixed, and packed so that he could go home, instead of staying here another night, spending more of the money that didn’t belong to you.
You were always taught that it was your job as a wife to be a help mate, to cook, to clean, to make a comfortable home, to raise a family, all this to make your husband's life better. You were there to serve him. Not the other way around.
"Y/n, you do NOT suck at this. I don't need you to cater to my every whim. I'm a big boy, If I get hungry before you wake up I know where the kitchen is. You're not my slave you know." he said, running his fingers through your hair, before lightly grazing over your neck with his lips, his breath ghosting over your skin, causing an involuntary shiver to run through you.
You didn't understand why his touch affected you so, but it did. One small little gesture that he didn't even realize he was doing and you were putty in his hands.
"I just don't want you to be stuck with someone like me. Who not only is WAY  out of your league, but can't even get off her ass, and do what she is supposed to for you."
Jensen propped up on his elbow, looking at you like you'd popped out a third head. You shook your own head and moved to get out of the bed. His hand reached out, and grabbed your arm, pulling you as close to him as possible, before laying you both back down, and pulling the covers over you.
"What do you mean, 'WAY out of  my league?' You're not way out of  anything? I married you because I chose to. No one forced me, no one twisted my arm. I knew what you looked like before you even walked into the church yesterday. I was well informed on any, and everything that has gone on with you since I left for California. Baby you're not way out of my league."
Leaning down, he placed a sweet kiss to your lips softly, just barely moving his mouth over yours.
"Y/n, you and I are equals. I'm not any better than you are. I don't see myself as something you're not. I want us to be partners in this relationship. Like I said last night. I want a real marriage with you. Not just some arrangement of convenience. I'm not going to lord over you, or anything like that. I'm not going to expect you to walk around like my little slave girl, who's only job is to wait on me hand and foot and fuck me. Sorry, that's not what I wanted."
Leaning down he kissed you again, this time slipping his tongue through your lips without any effort at all, exploring your mouth lazily for a while before breaking the kiss again.
"Now, I'm going to go run you a warm bath, then I'm going to make us so coffee while you're soaking, then we're going to eat a shit ton of junk food, and watch Netflix all day while cuddling here in this bed.   Sound like a plan?” 
You couldn't help but giggle at his serious face, and those perfect, pink, pouty lips.
"Okay, okay..." you tell him, sitting up and watching him make his way toward the bathroom to start running your bath.
"And don't bother about putting  clothes on. You're not going to need them." he said, giving you a playful wink before disappearing into the bathroom. The sounds of water running erupted through the room.
------------------------------------------------------------------
A little over five hours and the only thing that had been accomplished was one very relaxing bath which did seem to help a great deal with your sore muscles, and several Netflix serious episodes, which you couldn’t even tell what was on the tv. Jensen kept your mouth busy with his like a couple of teenagers, hands exploring each other's bodies as you lay there, cuddled into each other, wrapped up as tight as you could physically manage.
To say the least this is not what you expected out of an arranged marriage, with all the horror stories and things you had heard. You expected something along the lines of a sex crazed, slave driver, that wanted nothing more than to pound you into the mattress, and have you wait on him hand over fist.
Jensen was the exact opposite so far. He was gentle with you, and he took his time with you. Even though you were lying there next to him, both of you completely naked, he never pushed you to sleep with him, never did anything to make you uncomfortable in the least. There was no rush. He was patient, and content just to lay there and kiss you.
You talked about everything you could think of. Childhood memories, things he's experienced over the last 10 years, what you expected out of life, what your dreams and goals were, what you both wanted in a home.
You both laid there like until long after the sun went down. 
You felt like you knew him a little better than you did when you met him at the church yesterday, and to be honest, you were already head over heels for him.
Every time he smiled, it damn near knocked the wind out of you. Your skin felt alive under his touch in a way you'd never experienced before. So far, Jensen had far surpassed his expectations. That, you were secretly thankful for.
Learning to do this with each other definitely wouldn't be easy, but you were confident that you were both talking a step in the right directions.
One thing you were sure of. You were already completely, irrationally, and  irrevocably in love with him. 
Hopefully you weren't going crazy, and he actually felt the same way. You'd never been a fan of love at first sight. You'd never believed it existed.
Right now, laying here wrapped up in his arms, you were starting to think maybe this whole marriage thing wouldn't be as bad as they talked about before.
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Tag List: @deanwanddamons​ @imabitch4jensen​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​
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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years ago
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Banished (Part 47)
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~Banished Master~
Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader
Word Count: 11K (heh... how long does this take y’all to read, I stg)
~Master~
*Based off episode 4x02 of the 100, Heavy lies the Crown*
Bold Italics are Trig
Previously...
As for Praimfaya, its already making its way across the globe. A couple, man and woman crossing the desert in Europe, found it out the hard way. Their bodies were covered in burns, as they tried to find sanctuary. The man collapsed, his partner falling with him as she panted, trying to get him to respond to her but he wouldn’t answer. She let out a sob, barely able to make a sound from her dried throat. At an odd sound, she pulled herself up, trudging atop a sand dune to look upon pyramids.
But along with the structures a wave of radiation came upon her. She let out a scream as the radiation took her over, her skin burning off as she fell to her knees and her body was swept away.
6 months, starting now.
ALIE’s chip had made its way from Polis before you managed to destroy her. One victim, Ilian, living with his family on a farm, introduced a new level of pain to his family. He wasn’t in control of himself, ALIE in his head and working him like another one of her puppets. His mother sat tied, tired and bleeding against the sheep’s corral, her arms drawn apart like she was on a cross. Her ragged breathing was worsened as she looked up to Ilian approaching her.
She tried to speak. “Demon…” She muttered as her voice tore through her throat. “Where’s my son?”
Ilian paid no mind to her question as he held out a chip for her, barely a smile on his face to offer comfort. “Take it mother.” The woman’s cried out as Ilian pulled the chip away and kept it in his fist. He left his mother, heading to a boy, his brother, kneeling as his mind explored the City of Light. Ilian’s mother begged him, pleading for him to spare the life of his brother, but ALIE wouldn’t allow it. A knife was pressed to the boy’s throat by Ilian’s hand. “I’ll stop when you take the key.”
ALIE stood next to him, watching the scene carefully. “Do it. She’ll break.” Without another plead, Ilian cut his brother’s throat, gasps for air and one last breath came from the brother before he fell to the ground.
His mother cried out for the loss of her family. “He’s with father in the City of Light.” Ilian assured her as she looked to her husband, his life taken just minutes ago much like his sons had. “Take it mother.”
Another refusal.
ALIE had one last trick up her AI sleeve. “Put the knife to your own throat.” Ilian followed her instructions, his mother starting to thrash about as she begged for Ilian to lower the knife. Just before ALIE was to tell Ilian to slice his throat, she was distracted. “Y/N. Don’t.” She flickered away, leaving Ilian standing there, waiting for a command. The moments passed, his face stoic as his mother tried to get him to come back.
“You don’t ease pain. You overcome it. And we always will.” Without a moment’s hesitation, you grabbed the kill switch, pulling it and ending it all. No more ALIE.
Ilian let out a gasp as the knife was pulled from his throat, his heart racing at the thought of what might’ve happened. He looked down at the blade, his brother and fathers blood stained the metal as he looked to his mother, her head falling to the side as he rushed over.
“Mother!” He yelled and used the knife to cut her bonds. Her eyelids felt heavy, too much of her strength been used for sobbing and she barely had any left to live. “Help!” Ilian screamed. “Help!” He’s screams were for naught as the only ones around were his family, his brother and father both lying dead in their field and his mother joining them slowly.
“Ilian.” His mother mumbled, placing a hand on his cheek to pull his face to look down. “Avenge me.”
Ilian cried as his mother took her last breath and he pulled her into his chest, kissing her forehead as tears fell down his face. He tried to hold himself, losing his entire family broke him and he let it out, his scream ringing through the air as he clutched the useless key, vowing revenge on those who brought the City of Light to them: Skaikru.
In Polis, a week after ALIE’s demise, Kane and Abby were enjoying the simple things. They laid in bed together, post coital bliss etched on their faces as they panted.
“You are a terrible influence.” Abby whispered to Kane, moving her head to look at the man next to her. She rolled on top of him, her fingers tracing over his bare chest. “Roan is expecting me.” Kane nodded and Abby kissed him before grabbing her shirt and throwing it on. He watched with a smile as a different form of happiness than he felt 5 minutes ago took over his body. Abby removed her wedding ring from where she placed it for safe keeping, hesitating while holding the band that tied her to her deceased husband.
“Abby.” Kane whispered, putting his arms around her shoulders. She leaned back against his body. “Jake is a part of you.” He reminded her, taking the necklace from her hands and putting it back around her neck where it belonged. They smiled at each other, Abby leaning over to give him one last kiss before she had to leave. “Go. The King’s waiting but be careful. The tower’s safe, but we’re in dangerous ground here.” Abby nodded, pushing some of Kane’s hair out of his face before leaving the room to attend to Roan.
On the ground, outside the tower, a group of Trishanakru men sat together around a table, Ilian sat with them, his face stone as he stared at the wood in front of him. “The king protects Skaikru. Why?” He asked the ambassador next to him, Rafel.
“Because he is their puppet, Ilian.” Rafel told Ilian, getting the boy to turn his head and listen. “And anyone who protects the people who did this are as guilty as they are. Roan of Azgeda will hear me. As your ambassador, I have the right to challenge him. Single Combat.”
Octavia stood hidden in the shadows, listening as Rafel promising revenge on Skaikru and the king.
“I want justice, Skaikru did this, not the king.” Ilian told him, his jaw clenching in disgust at the mention of Skaikru.
“Do you want revenge for your family? When Trishanakru controls Polis, you will have it.” Rafel held a cup up in cheers, Ilian and the other men slowly following. “I promise when the King’s head falls, Skaikru falls with it.”
The doors to the throne room opened and Roan was led inside, his head picking up as he looked upon the throne and Echo standing to the side.
“Welcome to your throne room, my King.” She greeted. Roan didn’t say anything, walking past her as he looked about the room. “Now since the lift’s been repaired, I’ve doubled the guards on every floor.”
“Expecting trouble?” Roan stopped her, raising a brow.
Echo sighed. “I trust only Azgeda. Your mother taught me that, the people loved her for it.”
Roan stood in front the throne and turned to face the spy. “Our people feared her.”
“Because she was fierce and ambitious.”
Slowly taking a seat, Roan shook his head. “My mother’s ambition and her disregard for Lexa’s alliance got her killed.”
“If I may, why do you insist on ruling as Lexa did if its not the best for our people?” Echo asked. Roan hesitated. He couldn’t tell her of the world’s destruction, who knows what a spy would do with that information. “At least tell me there’s a reason.”
He didn’t get a response formed before the door to throne room opened and Kane and Octavia pushed themselves inside. “Forgive the intrusion, your highness. May we have a word?” Kane asked, glancing to Echo who narrowed her eyes. “Privately.”
“You can wait, just like all the other ambassadors.” She spat at Kane.
“Echo.” Roan caught her attention. “Leave us.” She spun around to look at him, confused as to why Skaikru would be given the special treatment. “Please.” She followed the order of her king, leaving Kane and Octavia alone with Roan.
“You were right to be concerned about Trishanakru.” Kane told him once the room was cleared. “Rafel is gonna challenge for your control.”
“Bold move for a new ambassador.” Roan pointed out, knowing Trishanakru isn’t fond of him as King. “Let him come.”
“With respect, you’re still recovering.”
“The law says you can choose someone to fight in your place.”
“No.” Roan shot Octavia’s idea down. “The clans would never accept someone who hides behind the law or someone else’s blade.”
“You’ll lose.” Octavia said simply, gesturing to the wound. “Lexa kicked your ass without a bullet hole in your chest.”
“We should cancel the gathering.” Kane stepped in, sending a look of disapproval to Octavia. “Delay it until you’re strong enough.”
“No.” Roan objected, leaving the duo to silently bicker as he walked away. “Letting the clans have a voice keeps the peace here. Azgeda holds this city through force alone, and the flame won’t keep the clans at bay forever.” He sat into the throne, showing his power over the Skaikru ambassadors. “If they unite against us, we could lose, and if we lose-“
“They come for Skaikru.” Octavia finished Kane gulped quietly.
“And the radiation will come for us all.”
Kane shook his head. “No one has to die. The point of our arrangement is to give us time to find a solution that will save everyone.”
“And how is that solution coming?”
“We’re working on it.” Kane assured him, having no clue of your advancements towards a proper solution. “In the meantime, I’m here to keep you in power. Let me talk to the ambassador.”
“Go ahead. Talk.” Roan allowed Kane. Kane turned around, beginning to walk towards the door before Roan’s voice stopped him. “But if you fail, I’ll have no choice but to fight.” Kane hesitated before nodding, sparing Octavia a look before leaving and heading to the Trishanakru ambassador.
Things in Arkadia weren’t going as well as you hoped. You, Bellamy, Raven, Clarke, and Monty were held up in a room, racking your brains to come up with a solution. You leaned against the window, staring at the falling rain, thunder and lightning accompanying it. It was hard to believe in a few months, this very rain could kill you.
“We’ve been at this for two days. There has to be something we’re not thinking of.” Bellamy groaned, moving from the drawing board over to you. You hadn’t pulled yourself away from the window for almost twenty minutes. He’d be more worried if he didn’t know how stressful this was. Bellamy leaned against the wall and you could see him from the corner of your eye, but you made no indication. He sighed, running a hand over his face. “What if we could reach the nearest nuclear reactor?”
Raven scoffed at his idea. “I told you the meltdown started months ago. There’s no magic button to turn them off. Today isn’t the black rain but it will be soon.” Clarke looked to the window, Bellamy and you perched in front of it. She caught Bellamy’s eyes before looking at you, your eyes unmoving from the rain. Water dripped in through the seals as Monty glanced to the ceiling. “That’s why we need to focus on riding out the radiation, finding someplace safe and big enough for all 500 of us.”
Her words brought you out of your rain watching and you narrowed your eyes to her. “And what about everyone else? I made a promise to Roan. We save everyone.”
“That’s why we need to tell everyone!” Raven stressed as she took a step closer to you, Bellamy and Clarke, trying to get her point across. “Crowdsource it. The grounders might know if there’s another Mount Weather out there.”
Bellamy looked to you, his voice softer than before as he watched you lean back on the window, tilting your head upon it. “You think they’d tell us?” He asks you, knowing that if they grounders knew anything, you’d be the one who’d be aware.
“I doubt it. We tell them that they’re dead if we don’t figure this out then the coalition is over, Roan falls and we’ll be dealing with grounders at our gate.” You told them all, firmly believing destruction will only come from crowdsourcing.
“Then just tell our people.” Raven argued. “I need more minds on this problem.” You held your head in your hands, hiding a yawn as you rubbed from your eyes to your temples. “On the ark, people volunteered for the culling because they were told the truth and given a choice.” Monty turned around, bracing himself against the table as he watched water drop into a bucket he placed earlier. Raven turned to Clarke. “A choice your dad died for.”
Clarke furrowed her brows and clenched her jaw. “You think I’ve forgotten that?” She spat.
“Okay, we’ll tell everybody the truth,” Bellamy broke the tension between the two girls. “as soon as we find a viable solution. Without it, it’ll cause a panic.”
“That’s it!” Monty yelled out as everyone turned to him, you even pushing yourself into the group as Monty spoke. “Alpha station survived in space for 97 years through elevated radiation levels and extreme temperature fluctuations. Sound familiar?” He asked you all rhetorically. “All we have to do is patch up the ship.”
A silence fell around the group as Bellamy and you exchanged a glance. “What are you saying?” you asked Monty, wanting to make sure you were understanding what he was getting at.
He looked to you, a small smile making way on his face. “I’m saying, we’re standing in our viable solution.” You all looked around the room, your viable solution sounding more and more better as each moment passed.
“Alright then.” Raven grinned, nodding to Monty. “Let’s get to work.” They started on what was needed, making a list of things to fix as you sighed in relief, moving back to look out the window.
You were going to do this. This was going to work.  
“Hey.” Bellamy whispered as he joined you at the window, much closer than he was before. You didn’t mind though, feeling him glance at you. Bellamy didn’t have to look long to notice the bags under your eyes and the way your shoulders drooped. “When was the last time you had slept?”
You chuckled under your breath, looking at him with a smile. “I think I got a few minutes in last night.” You said honestly. You barely have gotten more than a few hours since that day you went in the City of Light, the stress of everything piling on your plate just kept you up and as much as you tried, you couldn’t sleep for long.
“Y/N.”
You shook your head at Bellamy, knowing the talk about needing to sleep was coming. “I’m fine, I really am. We have our solution. Let’s just make sure it works, then I’ll sleep.” He looked just as tired as you when you took a second to study his features. “Besides Bellamy, you look like you need it just as much as I do.”
“How about, we both get some shut eye.” You both glanced back, seeing Monty and Raven working as Clarke stood next to them, watching over their work and providing a voice on occasion.
“I think we’re supposed to be helping.” You told him, bumping his shoulder with yours. He frowned as you tried to hide another yawn.
“Y/N-“
“Get some sleep.” Monty’s voice called over to you and Bellamy. You both turned, seeing the three of them watching you with knowing smiles. “You both need it.”
Bellamy looked at you, raising a brow as you rolled your eyes. “You sure you don’t need our help?” You asked, hating that you were leaving them to all the work.
Raven nodded. “We’re sure. You’re no use to us tomorrow if you pass out from sleep exhaustion.”
“Tomorrow?” Bellamy questioned.
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Monty nodded. “We need a working hydro-generator to store water and the only working hydro-generator is in Farm Station.”
“And that’s where Bellamy and I come in?” You understood. Farm Station landed in Ice Nation territory, getting there without running into said Ice Nation is a mission all on its own. You needed to be awake, not worrying about whether you had enough strength to aim your bow. You bit your lip, to try not to yawn, giving up when it proved a struggle. “Fine. Sleep it is.” You relented.
Bellamy smiled when you gave in, both of you saying goodnight to your friends before leaving. The halls were quiet, most Arkers fast asleep as you headed to your room. “You think this is going to work?” You asked Bellamy.
He didn’t say anything before sighing. “Monty and Raven know what they’re doing.”
You stopped walking, grabbing his hand to get him to join you. “But do you think this is going to work?” You looked into his eyes. Bellamy didn’t know what to say. You wanted to know if he thought there was a chance you’d all survive. He didn’t say anything though, and you got your answer. He didn’t know. You looked down the hall, seeing your door as you took a breath. “Goodnight Bellamy.” You whispered, letting go of his hand. Bellamy looked down to his hand, immediately feeling the loss of your touch before looking up and seeing you walk away.
“Goodnight Y/N.” he mumbled after you, staying in that spot as you disappeared behind the door. He half contemplated turning back to help the others, content with getting you to sleep, but you wanted him to sleep too. It was only fair. He headed straight to his room, groaning at the sight of his bed. He didn’t bother turning the light on as he pulled his shirt off and fell onto the mattress to try and get some sleep.
You were exhausted as you laid in bed, barely bothering to change out of your jeans but putting a tank top on instead of the long sleeve shirt and jacket you wore. You could hear the rain outside your window, the constant pounding slowly lulling you to sleep.
Your eyes flickered closed in the darkness, and the rain started to disappear, the sound instead replaced by a faint whispering.
“Y/N…” it said quietly. You stirred in your sleep, hearing it again. “Y/N…” Its breathy voice repeated in your head, getting louder and louder until it was screaming. “Skaikiler!”
You bolted awake, throwing yourself to sit up as your breathing become frantic and heavy. You turned your bed lamp on, glancing around the room for the cause of the voice. Your room was empty, you were completely alone and the only sound you could hear was the rain once again.
“What the hell?” You mumbled, trying to calm yourself. The voice was gone, and you tried to think back on it, but it didn’t sound like anyone you knew before. You tried to ignore it, turning off the light and burying yourself in the blanket, but you couldn’t close your eyes, the thought that the voice would return was unsettling. You groaned, throwing your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing your jacket. You covered yourself before walking out of your room, your door slamming behind you as you froze.
You knew you needed to sleep, Bellamy told you that much. You’d go outside for a breather, but it was raining, and raining and tired doesn’t usually make for a great mission the next day. You started walking, your feet taking you wherever they wanted and soon enough you ended at Bellamy’s door. If he was asleep, knocking on the door might be mean, he did need sleep too. Before you could even consider another option, you were knocking. You scolded yourself, hoping Bellamy wasn’t in there sleeping.
Bellamy was struggling to get to sleep as well, every time he tried his mind wanders, often coming to you. He tried to empty his mind, but it was no use, no matter what his thoughts remained. The knock on his door made him awake fully, not having expected anyone to come this late at night. He assumed it was Clarke to tell them they needed him for something. He groaned, pushing himself off his bed, turning on his lamp on the way up. His feet padded silently against the ground as he opened the door, not expecting to see you on the other side.
Your eyes were wide as the door was pulled open, a shirtless Bellamy in front of you as you looked away, feeling like you shouldn’t have just checked him out. When you finally looked back at him, you thanked that he hadn’t caught you, a yawn escaping him. “Y/N?”
“Sorry. I uh…” You stopped yourself. What were you doing here?
“You couldn’t sleep either?” He asked as you shook your head, happy to know it wasn’t just you. Although something tells you that he didn’t have voices in his head. “Come in.” He nodded towards his bed and stepped aside, letting you into his room. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as Bellamy fell back into bed. He looked at you, raising a brow. “Come on, you still need to get some sleep.” You laughed, chewing on your lip and walking over to the bed. You were about to climb in before you remembered your jacket, pausing and turning off the light before pulling your jacket off. Bellamy didn’t say anything, watching your figure in the dark before you started to climb in. You laid on your side, facing away from Bellamy. You could feel him behind you, you knew he was staring at the back of your head.
He scooted closer to you, you doing the same and moving backwards until his body pressed against yours, more warmth coming from his chest than a blanket ever could’ve provided. His arm began to encircle your waist before slowly pulling away. Bellamy wasn’t sure if it was welcomed, he didn’t know if he already over stepped with sharing a bed. You didn’t say anything and grabbed Bellamy’s hand, bringing his arm back around your stomach. He grinned and pulled you even closer. Suddenly his thoughts stopped taking over his brain, the feeling of you next to him was enough for Bellamy to fall asleep comfortably. You fell asleep too not long after, hearing Bellamy’s breathing in your ear and the voice didn’t make another appearance that night.
Morning came faster than you thought as the morning sun came though Bellamy’s window. You moved in your sleep, now laying on Bellamy’s chest with his arms around you. You didn’t know if Bellamy was awake, picking your head up and placing your chin on his chest. He woke up a few minutes ago, watching you sleep peacefully. You didn’t look nearly as tired as you had last night, the extra hours you had spent with Bellamy asleep doing you both favors. You gave him a lazy smile, receiving one in return from him.
“Morning.” He spoke, his voice deeper and gravelly in the morning, obvious he slept well.
“Morning.” You whispered, stretching out your legs. They hit Bellamy’s and neither of you stopped them from getting tangled together. “How long were we asleep for?” you asked, hearing the days chatter begin outside Bellamy’s room.
Bellamy shrugged, not pulling his eyes off you. His eyes moved down from your face, seeing the scars on your body. There was a familiarity in this moment, the last time you and Bellamy woke like this you had just had sex for the first time. He left you for Pike. He wasn’t going to do that this time.
You caught his eyes moving to your scar on your shoulder, that one from the panther as you shifted. You reached over for your jacket, thrown on his bedside table and pulled it on. When you broke the comfort between you two, Bellamy was confused and wanting to stay a little longer with you, but when you grabbed your jacket, he knew what was wrong.
“Hey.” He said, pushing himself up to sit against the wall. You paused and looked him before slowly pulling your jacket the rest of the way on. “You don’t have to hide them from me.” He told you, reaching out to grab your hand. You swallowed, pulling your hand away before he could reach. He furrowed his brows. “Y/N?”
“It’s not you.” You admitted, refusing to look at him.
He waited for you to go on, but you hadn’t said more. “What’s wrong?”
You shook your head, offering a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“No. Something’s on your mind, the same something that made you grab your jacket.” He reached for your hand once more, this time you allowed him to grab it. “Talk to me.”
You took a second, trying to find the words. “It’s dumb. I’ve lived with my scars for years, but when I was in the City of Light…” you stopped yourself, letting your eyes closed as you thought back to the City, staring at yourself in the building once again. Your scars were gone, you looked… normal. You opened your eyes again, blinking away the thoughts as you realized Bellamy had gotten closer, an arm pulled around your back as you both sat with your legs off the edge of the bed. “They weren’t there.” You blurted out.
Was it wrong to want to look like that again?
“I told you it’s dumb. Especially with everything that’s going on. My problems are-“
“Important.” Bellamy cut you off. He squeezed your hand. “Your problems are important Y/N and I promise you, we’ll get through this. We’ll survive.”
You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks heat up as he rubbed your back. “I’m holding you to that.” You both chuckled. “We should probably get going before someone files a missing people report.” You joked as Bellamy chuckled and both of you slowly got out of the bed.  
Checking in with Clarke, Raven and Monty, they explained the plan of retrieving the hydro-generator, you and Bellamy bringing along a group, specifically Monty, Harper, Miller, Bryan, and you two. It was yours and Bellamy’s job to bring Miller and Bryan up too speed and after a good 10 minutes, you were getting somewhere.
“Raven says we can get it sealed in a month.” Bellamy told them, your head nodding as he spoke. “The Ark is our Ark.”
“I get it.” Miller stopped him, processing the plan. “So, we freeze dry the meat until we can grow our own food, oxygen scrubbers, but how do we store enough water for 500 people?”
Bellamy looked to you, offering you the next explanation. “We don’t.” you took over. “That’s why we’re heading to Farm Station.”
Miller scoffed and knotted his brows. “Why the hell would we do that? That’s in Ice Nation, you know that better than anyone.”
Bryan groaned in pain as he stood up, the three of you looking at him in concern. “You just said it. We need a hydro-generator and Farm Station has one for crops.”
“Think you can get us there?” Bellamy asked Bryan before Miller interrupted.
“No way. Find another machine.”
“There aren’t any, Miller. Without it we’d barely, last a year. 5 would be impossible.” You told him, running a hand over your face. Miller considered it, looking in between you and Bellamy.
“Fine. I’m in, but Bryan stays here. His leg’s still healing.”
You looked at Bryan seeing him send a look to Miller before addressing Bellamy and you. “I’m in too.”
You knew he was only going because he wanted to prove he could, but that was only more dangerous. “Good. We leave in an hour.” Bellamy said as Miller scoffed, wondering why he even tries with his boyfriend. You followed Bellamy out of the room.
As soon as you both were gone, Miller grabbed Bryan’s attention. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah I do.” Bryan told him, shaking his head. “Since Octavia murdered Pike, I’m the only one left who knows where it is.”
“Why are you defending him? Pike was a dictator!”
“He was elected chancellor, and if you don’t care about that, he kept me alive for three months.”
“Then why did you help us turn him over to the grounders?”
Bryan stared at Miller; the answer obvious in Bryan’s head. “To save you, Nate.”
Miller didn’t say anything, his arguments falling short knowing Bryan sacrificed Pike because he loved Miller. Miller pulled him in for a long loving hug, whispering sorry in his ear.
Monty went looking for his best friend, checking his room, the dining hall and the hangar bay before walking outside, the sound of pitchy singing coming from the middle of the camp. Monty grew confused, following the sound before seeing Jasper in the shower, scrubbing his body and singing along to the song stark naked in the camp, his only covering being a curtain surrounded the shower. Monty put his hands on his hips, watching his friend from afar before coming forward.
“Woah.” Monty said as he got closer, discovering Jasper’s naked body with a hand placed to hide Jasper. “Nice cap.” Monty called out, his hand still up and remaining up until Jasper was wearing clothes again. “You know you’re wasting our drinking water, right?”
Jasper just chuckled, continuing to use the loofah on his body. “You know we’re all going to die in 6 months, right?” he retorted, running the water over his face.
“Not if we find what we’re looking for today.” Monty tried to sound confident, knowing that finding the hydro-generator was huge.
Jasper scoffed, continuing on with his shower. “Oh please. Tell me about another pointless task Clarke has roped you into doing. Or better yet, don’t. I don’t want to keep anymore of her secrets.”
“We’re going back to Farm Station.” Monty moved on. “Why don’t you come with us.”
Jasper shook his head and turned off the water. “Monty.” He said and held his hands out. “Look at me.”
Monty turned away, using his hand once again to not see Jasper’s nakedness. “I’m really trying not to.”
“I’m fine. I’m having fun.” When Monty interrupted him, Jasper sighed. “I’m not going to kill myself.” He assured his best friend. “What’s the point?” He grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his body and smirked. “But if you want to cheer me up, while you’re at Farm Station, get that weed we stashed? Behind the wall of your old room?” He smiled at Monty, holding up his hand. “Come on. Don’t leave me hanging!”
Monty held up his own hand, both of them bringing their other hands up to high five themselves, their own special high five. Monty tried to hide his own smile as he pointed at Jasper and walked away, headed to meet you all at the hangar bay.
“Hey, you want a hug?” Jasper called out jokingly as Monty chuckled.
You lifted up a backpack, tossing it to Miller who put it in the rover, getting ready for your Ice Nation trip. You hoped that it would be a clean trip, but things don’t usually go your way.
“Battery’s full.” Bellamy said and you turned around to see Clarke walking over. “If we’re lucky, we won’t have to stop to discharge.”
Clarke nodded, pulling out Roan’s Ice Nation seal. “If Roan’s seal works the way it’s supposed to, we’ll be even luckier.” She muttered and handed it over to Bellamy. “If you get in trouble, just show this.”
You tapped Miller’s leg, telling him you’re going over as he nodded. “You can still come with us.” You told Clarke who shook her head.
“I can’t. Arkadia is just plan B. We need to find a solution that saves both us and the grounders.” You knew she was right. You promised Roan his people would be safe and protecting just your people wasn’t the way to do that.
“We save who we can save today.” Bellamy said, looking more at you than Clarke. He knew if anything went wrong for the grounders, you’d blame yourself. You were the one who made a promise to Roan.
“We should get going.” You reminded them. Bellamy nodded telling the others to load up.
“Hey, be careful, okay?” You nodded at Clarke’s words before heading to the rover, sending patting the side of it before climbing into the front seat. Bellamy joined you, sliding into the front seat and away to Ice Nation you went.
Bellamy parked far from the fallen ship, up on the hill as you all clambered out of the rover. “This is as far as we can get.” He called out as everyone approached the ledge, looking out at Farm Station. “From here we go on foot.”
“We get the hydro-generator and get out.” Miller instructed. “We don’t want to stay any longer than we need.” The ship was daunting, just like Alpha Station but covered in snow. Miller looked into his binoculars, his face falling instantly. “Guys, we have a problem.” Bellamy brought his gun up, looking into the scope as you all crouched down.
“What is it?” you asked, not able to see that far without help.
“The barn’s not empty.” Miller muttered over to you as your head dropped. Of course, it’s not empty, that would make this a million times easier.
“They moved in.” Bryan spoke in disbelief. “If it’s the same guys who attacked us, with our guns, we could take them.”
“We’re not here to fight them.” You said looking down at the Station. “We need the machine, if we don’t then Ice Nation will be the least of our troubles.”
“Guys?”
You picked your head up, turning to see Harper with an arrow drawn to her back. You aimed your own bow as Ice Nation grounders came out from the trees, all aiming their weapons at you and your friends.
“Weapons down. Now.” Bellamy told you all as he lowered his gun, Monty and Harper following. You and Miller hesitated but ultimately listened, leaving Bryan with his gun up.
“Bryan now.” You told him, placing your hand on the barrel gently, the boy allowed you to bring his gun down, watching the woman in front of you stare at you.
Bellamy pulled out the seal, showing it to the woman. “King Roan of Azgeda sent us.” The woman took the seal out of Bellamy’s hands, looking it over. Bellamy and you exchanged glances, but once Bellamy was looking away, the woman used the seal, hitting Bellamy in the head with it.
“Bellamy!” you yelled as he hit the ground unconscious. You were by his side, turning him in your lap to see him unconscious. You brushed his hair out of the way, checking for any injuries.
“Take their weapons. Let’s introduce them to the chief.”
A bow was placed to your head, stopping your movements. “Get up.”  A man said, nudging your head. You looked up at him, slowly moving Bellamy off your lap. He was staring to wake up, groaning as you shifted and stood up, raising your hands in the air.
The grounders tied everyone’s hands in front of them, leading you all into the Farm Station. You and Bellamy walked side by side, grounders grabbing your shoulders and shoving you and your friends to the ground. The seal was presented in front of you and Bellamy.
“Where did you get this?” The Ice Nation Chief asked Bellamy. You stayed quiet, glancing back at all your friends and seeing their equally pissed off and scared faces.
“King Roan. Skaikru and Azgeda are allies. He sent us to get a part of the ship, a machine.” Bellamy explained to him. The grounders obviously didn’t believe him as the Chief turned to the woman who knocked Bellamy out.
“King Roan hasn’t returned to Ice Nation in 3 years. The Banished Prince is not my king.” She told the Chief who pocketed the seal.
“You know Queen Nia is dead.”  You spoke harshly. They looked at you, narrowing their eyes. “That ‘Banished Prince’ is the rightful ruler of Ice Nation. Whether you like it or not.”  The chief pulled out his knife, making you realize no matter what you said about Roan being king, it wouldn’t be enough. “Look, if we were coming to take this place back, we’d of brought more people. You know that.”
Bellamy watched you, only understanding bits of what you were saying. The Chief came to you with the knife, tucking it under your chin and pulling your head up. “Just because you speak our language, doesn’t make you one of us, Skaikiler.”
Why did they always assume you wanted to be like one of them?
“Let’s get this over with, Davika.” The chief spoke to the woman before yanking you to your feet, cutting the rope binding your hands before doing the same to Bellamy.
“Release them.” He told his people who listened, all cutting your friends loose. Bellamy stepped closer to you, looking at you to make sure you were fine, and you nodded. “Where is this machine for the king?”
At Arkadia, Raven managed to get a few people to help with the ships repair, telling them that they need to get the ship ready for the winter, not for the worlds end. She sent the workers on their way. She looked up, seeing Clarke walking her way and shook her head. “There is so much work to do and I get a total of 5 volunteers to help me?”
“It’s a start.”
“I can’t run this repair on my own Clarke!” She tried not to yell and alert the others. “Even if I had complete mobility, or even if Sinclair was still alive.” Her voice dropped at the mention of her mentor. “Who the hell am I to give them orders? I’m not the chief engineer.”
“And I’m not the chancellor.” Clarke shook her head slowly, shrugging her shoulders. “Yet, here we are. For what it’s worth, there’s nobody I trust more to do this than you.” Raven looked up, taking in Clarke’s words. “As soon as Bellamy and Y/N get back with the machine, we go public and get you the help you need.”
“Am I interrupting?” Jaha spoke to the girls as they turned around, seeing the man join in on their conversation. They looked at each other before Jaha spoke up again. “I used to be an engineer. I supervised the redesign of sector 5.”
“And how many people died in sector 5 during the culling when you sucked the air out of their lungs?”
“42.” Jaha said quickly, not taking Raven’s spite. “Would you like to know their names?” Raven scoffed and stormed off, leaving Jaha and Clarke to talk before Clarke stopped her.
“Raven, we could use the help.” She reminded the engineer who stopped herself, turning around with crossed arms.
“You know he made me cut my wrists to force your mom to take the chip, right?” Raven recapped. “He searched for the City of Light. He brought ALIE here. He showed her how to overcome free will.”
“Yes.” Jaha knew what he had done. “Those are my sins and I have to live with them.”
Raven scoffed. “You wanna help? Go sort the scraps.” Jaha nodded as Raven finished her storming off, glancing at Clarke before following the Reyes instruction.
The chief led you through the halls of the Farm Station in a line. “Since when does a grounder know how to power on a spaceship?” Monty pointed out as you overheard. He had a point, grounders wouldn’t know that.
“No talking.” Dakiva said as she shoved Monty forward on her order. You were stopped at the end of the hallway, the door leading into the engine room closed as you waited. Bellamy reached behind himself for your hand and you took a step forward, hiding your joined hands between your bodies.
The door was opened, and you were led inside. “Slaves!” The chief shouted. “Eyes down.”
Your breath was caught, staring out amongst the Ice Nation’s slaves. They were Farm Station.
“What is this?” You muttered to the Chief who just sent you a glare.
“Do what you came here to do.” Your eyes landed on a little girl, her face covered in grime and you started forwards, wanting to check on her but Bellamy stopped you, shaking his head. You looked back at her, her eyes locking on yours.
He was going to leave them? He couldn’t just leave them. There were kids here! Teenagers! They don’t deserve this.
Monty pointed out the generator for all of you and Chief began bringing you up. The stairs.
“Riley?” Bryan’s voice caused you to turn around, seeing him look at a ‘slave’ down the line. Riley turned back around, his back to Bryan as Bryan approached him. “Riley! We thought you were dead.”
“Bryan, don’t!” Bellamy yelled as the two of you rushed back down the stairs. The chief pushed himself between Bryan and Riley and you grabbed Bryan, stepping in front of him as Bellamy stood next to you.
“Only the machine. The rest is ours.” Their chief told you. You felt Bryan move from behind you as you stopped him, staring down the Chief before Bellamy pulled your elbow and you all went for the machine.
Roan grunted as he swung at Echo with his sword, dodging swings of her own as they sparred. He slid on the ground to avoid a strike, rising to his feet and kicking her knee out. But when he raised his arm in the air to swing down at her one final time, he groaned out in pain, his bullet wound stopping him from delivering the blow. He leaned forward, supporting himself on the sword before Echo kicked the sword out and held hers against his neck.
“Damn it.” He groaned, pushing Echo away.
Abby called out from the side of the room, stepping forwards. “Let me take a look.” She pulled down Roan’s shirt, looking at the scarred skin. “It’s healing but you need more time.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Why did you accept this challenge? You’re a king, make your own rules.” Echo told Roan as she watched him pick up his sword, groaning as he bent over.
“I told you. I won’t be that kind of king.” She swung her sword, engaging in their match again until Roan strained his chest again. He moved his sword to his right hand, using that arm instead to attack back on Echo. Echo had the upper hand as she struck Roan in the shoulder, kicking his stomach and sending him the floor in pain. He clutched his injury, gasping as Echo stood over him.
“I would be honored to take your place in this fight.” She extended a hand to him, but Roan pushed himself up without the help.
“I will not run from this fight.”
“Echo’s right.” Abby said, putting her opinion in. “I didn’t save your life so you could tear yourself apart again.
Roan narrowed his eyes at the women. “Since when are you two on the same side? If you can’t help me, then why the hell are you still here?”
Abby didn’t say anything, instead choosing to leave like he wanted. “This fight can still be avoided.” Echo said once Abby was gone. “Protecting Skaikru gives the other clans an excuse to challenge you. Let me care of it. Let me do what your mother would’ve done.” She started her attack again as Roan ducked, yelling no to her. “Then please, tell me what Skaikiler could’ve offered you. What deal could she offer be worth losing the fate of your people?”
“A chance to survive the end of the world.” Roan finally told her. “That’s what they’re offering to us. Soon Praimfaya will come again and destroy everything. Skaikru is trying to stop it.”  
Echo’s face fell. “My king, they’re lying to you. They’d say anything to save themselves.” Roan shook his head, wanting to believe his trust in you was rightfully placed. “Let me prove it to you. Send me to Arkadia.”
“Your only concern now should be helping me win. Once I do, you may go to Arkadia. Prove my trust in Y/N is deserved.”
Echo quirked her brow. “Y/N?” she questioned her kings use of your name.
Roan paused. “Skaikiler.” He corrected himself before swinging his sword, not letting Echo get another word in before they were sparring again.
Rafel and Ilian and their men sat around again, Rafel sharpening a knife as he spoke. “Once I have accused Roan of crimes against our people for protecting Skaikru, he’ll demand proof. Ilian will be out first witness.” At Rafel’s words, Ilian looked to him, seeing Kane and Octavia walk their way over Rafel’s shoulder.
He pushed himself out of his chair, the other men doing so as well. Ilian held his knife behind him. “Ambassador, may we speak in private? We know you’re planning on challenging King Roan.”
Everyone was watching, even those not previously involved in the conversation. “Leave us.” He told everyone. “Ilian, stay.” Kane and Ilian both took a seat, Octavia staying for Kane’s protection.
“I’d like to ask you to reconsider.” Kane started, using his kindest tone.
Rafel laughed in his face. “Ask? After everything your people have done, you expect diplomacy?”
“Skaikru is not your enemy.”
Ilian slammed his hand down on the table, removing it to the show the chip laying upon the surface. “Skaikru made me murder my entire family. I have no one left.”
Kane offered an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry for your loss, but the chip technology affected every clan. You blame Skaikru for the City of Light, but shouldn’t you credit us for destroying it as well? After everything we’ve suffered, why should we spill more blood?”
Rafel smirked as he looked towards the younger boy. “You see Ilian. The King can’t fight. Otherwise his minions wouldn’t be trying to stop us.”
Octavia stepped in, leaning forward and towering over Ilian. “If the King wasn’t hurt, do you really think this coward would give a crap about your family?”
“Since you landed here, your people have done nothing but rip our world apart!” Rafel shouted, stopping Octavia from saying the obvious truth. He looked to Kane with a scowl. “Reap what you sow, ambassador. The time of Skaikru is over.”
He walked off and Ilian stood up, grabbing the chip and following behind him. “Well.” Octavia frowned watching the two walk away. “That went well.” Kane scoffed, leaving as well as Octavia glared at Rafel, knowing what she had to do.
Clarke was struggling. Plan B was a great plan if the hydro-generator pulled through, but to save everyone like you promised Roan? That was seeming to be impossible. There were just too many people.
“Damn it!” Clarke yelled, swiping her work off the table and burying her head in her hands. She was trying to focus, really just clearing her head in hopes it helps, but she couldn’t as music started getting louder from somewhere in the ark.
She knotted her brows, taking a look at the population sheet she had before needing to find the source. She stormed around the ark, heading outside and seeing a mess of kids, all of them standing around, drinking, or kicking a ball. Clarke was stunned, walking through the masses and arriving at Jasper, hanging onto a rover with the music on the highest volume.
“Can we talk?” Clarke called up at him, getting the boys attention as he stopped singing along to the music.
“Sure.” Jasper told her, jumping on the rover and following her. “I’ve got about 6 months. What’s up?”
“I’m trying to make sure we get more than 6 months, which is why these people need to get back to work.”
“I didn’t force them to stop. I guess they think it’s the end of the day, not end of days.” He took a sip of his drink, Clarke shaking her head in disbelief.
“Don’t you want us to survive, Jasper?”
“No, I don’t want us to survive.” Jasper said simply. “I want us to live.”
“If we don’t repair the ship, none of us will get that chance.” Clarke spoke quieter, trying to get her point across.
“And what about free will? That’s why Y/N destroyed ALIE, right? So why don’t you tell them all the truth?” Jasper gestured to the people, his voice getting louder as Clarke shushed him. “Let them decide what they want to do with their last 6 months. What are you so afraid of?”
“We can’t just go to them with no solution. People will Panic.”
Jasper nodded and faked a laugh. “Spoken like the council that sent 100 kids to die on the ground.” He backed away from Clarke, talking a sip of his drink and singing along to the music, leaving Clarke figure out a solution by herself.
Moral at the Farm Station was down as you all worked on removing the hydro-generator. Well, Bellamy and you stood off to the side, while everyone else who knew what they were doing was working.
“We can’t just leave them.” Bryan muttered, the 6 of you keeping your voices quiet to not raise suspicion and have grounders overhear.
“We’re in the collation, Y/N do you think the King would free them?” Harper asked, glancing out of the corner of her eye.
You bit your lip, thinking about it. “Roan’s people don’t respect him, but it’s our best bet.”
“They’re right.” Bellamy agreed, stepping closer to the group. “We try diplomacy first. If that doesn’t work, we come with reinforcements for the slaves.” He looked at Bryan, knowing he disagreed with the plan that put his friend at risk. “After we take home the machine, right?” Everyone nodded their heads.
The little girl who you wanted to help earlier walked in between you and Bellamy carrying a pitcher of water. As soon as she passed you, she dropped a cloth onto the ground and kept walking. You looked around, trying not to get caught as you stepped on it moving it towards Bellamy to hide it.
“Bell, look down.” You whispered in his ear, pretending like you were helping with the machine. He looked at you in confusion before glancing to the ground, seeing you remove your foot and uncover the note. He didn’t waste a second to crouch down at pick it up, reading it quickly.
“They’re moving them tomorrow.” Bellamy read from the note and stood up, looking back to see you hide your worries.
“We can’t wait.” You told them. If you didn’t get these people out of here, who knows what would happen to them.
“Are there any other exits?” Bellamy asked.
Bryan shook his head. “No. It’s completely sealed. Came down from space in here because it’s the most secure room in the ship.
“It’s designed that way in case the hydrazine blew.” Monty added. Bellamy’s eyes widened.
“What?” You asked, trying to figure out if you missed something.
“We have a bomb.” He whispered, realization dawning on all your faces.
Miller was the first one to speak up, opposed to the idea. “The end of the world is coming, and you want to use our one chance of our people’s survival as a bomb?”
“Not all our people.” Bryan pointed out, glancing at his brother in disbelief. “Riley?”
“I vote take it home.” Miller argued with his boyfriend.
“No, we blow it up.”
“I’m with Bryan.” Harper agreed and sides were beginning to take place. “I know what it’s like to be locked up and afraid. You didn’t leave us in Mount Weather, and we can’t leave them here.”
“Can we build another machine?” You asked Monty, knowing soon a decision was going to come and despite the outcome, people will die.
“Are you kidding? The techs way too advanced.” Monty shot your idea down. You groaned quietly, trying to think of anything.
Bellamy grabbed your hand and squeezed before releasing it. “We have 6 months. You’re telling me Raven can’t figure out another way to make water?”
“Yes.” Monty pressed. You looked around slowly, hoping you all weren’t drawing eyes. Monty sighed. “Look I know you want to make up for the things you done, we all do, but we need to think big picture here. We’re talking about the human race. We need to get this machine back to Arkadia. It’s the only way.”
“It’s two-two, guys. Bellamy? Y/N?”
Your eyes fell on the little girl before you saw Bellamy looking at you. “There are kids here, Bellamy. She can’t be any older than I what I was. I can’t leave them.” Bellamy nodded, grabbing your hand once again and telling the group the plan to save them all.
As soon as the Hydro-generator was free, Monty, Bellamy, Harper, and Bellamy carried the hydro-generator out of the room. Each of them had a hand on it as you passed by the Farm Station people. They looked broken, everyone watching you all, but you kept your head down, looking up only as you passed by the girl once again.
The door closed as you exited walking behind everyone next to Bryan. You heard it shut before Miller lost his hold the generator. “Watch it Miller!” Bryan shouted ahead.
“Wait, wait! Just set it down here!” Monty instructed as the other three listened, letting the generator onto the floor. He bent down, activating the bomb as you and Bellamy locked eyes, preparing for the next few seconds. “Now!”
You turned to the grounder next to you, the same one who held a bow to your head earlier and threw your fist into his face, sending him to the floor in one swing. You were about to run before another came behind you, grabbing your fist to keep from you punching him but you threw your elbow up, hitting him in the nose and sending him backwards.
“Y/N!” Bellamy shouted as you looked up, seeing everyone run back into the other room. You jumped over the bomb, grabbing Bellamy’s hand as the bomb started ticking.
“Kill them!” Dakiva shouted as Bellamy and you grabbed the door, pushing it closed together.
The bomb exploded, taking out most of the ship except the room you were in. The Chief didn’t waste a second before coming after your friends and you, swinging his axe at Miller before Bellamy body checked him. The chief groaned out in pain as Bellamy and Miller started beating him together.
“Stop! Stop!” Bryan shouted as he pulled Miller off. You thought he wanted him to die, that was the plan. Harper kicked the man in the head, and you had to admit, it was a nice kick. “This isn’t your kill! This is Monty’s kill!”
Everyone fell silent, looking at Bryan. “What are you talking about?” Monty asked, stepping out from behind Harper.
“This is the man who killed your father.” You were all in shock. This was Monty’s kill.
He picked up the chief’s axe, holding it his hand as he tried to control his anger.
“Monty, you don’t have to do this.” Bellamy tried getting Monty to listen, but you grabbed his arm, pulling Bellamy back next to you.
Monty didn’t even look at him. “Yeah, I do.” He lifted the axe above his head, grunting in anger as he repeatedly drove the axe into the chains next to him, freeing the slaves. You were proud of him, he didn’t need to kill his father’s killer. Instead, he let Farm Station do it. They needed their revenge more than he did.
Clarke walked into Raven’s workshop, looking around for said engineer. “Raven?” She called out, not receiving any response from Raven, but from Jaha.
“Polyethylene silicon elastomers.” He said, pointing to the barrels next to him. “We don’t need that to survive winter or a grounder attack. What are we really preparing Alpha Station for?” Clarke didn’t say anything, unsure how to approach this. Jaha chuckled, tossing his tools down. “Heavy lies the crown.” He told her. “I know the burden of keeping a secret you think is going to destroy your people.”
“You locked me up.” She stopped him. “You floated my father.”
“Now you understand why. No leader starts out wanting to lie, imprison or execute their people. The decisions you face whittle you down piece by piece.”
Clarke didn’t want to admit it, but Jaha knew what he was talking about. “What do I do?” She asks, needing any advice.
“I’ll tell you what I told your mother after the culling. We make the best decisions that we can with the information that we have, then hope that there's a forgiving god.” Clarke listened, but she knew you all needed more than a forgiving god.
Abby stood by her window, looking down at the city of Polis as her door opened and in walked Kane.
“Can Roan fight?” He asked her, needing to know how much trouble they were in.
Abby shook her head. “It’s too soon.” Based on today’s events, Roan was in no condition to fight anyone.
Kane groaned, letting his head fall. “One simple task and I’m failing.”
Abby comforted him, caressing his cheek. “No. You’ll figure it out.” She assured him, but Kane saw past Abby’s confidence.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, his turn to comfort him.
Abby shook her head, pausing before answering him. “There’s nothing more that I can do for Roan.”
Kane nodded as he understood. “You need to go back to Arkadia and Clarke.” It hurt him, but he knew Abby needed to leave. He caught sigh of her bare neck as he pushed the hair of his way, furrowing his brows. “Your necklace?” Jakes ring no longer sat upon Abby’s neck. Kane pulled Abby into him, kissing her goodbye as he held her.
Octavia walked in the dead of night wearing a black cloak to hide herself amongst the grounders. She took a look around her, making sure she wouldn’t be caught as she walked into Rafel’s home.
“It’s about time, pour the wine.” Rafel told her, unknown to who it really was in his house as he ate. When no wine was poured, he looked up surprised to see Octavia standing there. “What the hell do you want?”
“I’m here to ask you one last time to back down.”
He kept eating his food, picking it apart. “Are you trying to frighten me, little girl?”
Octavia walked around the table, coming closer to him. “If your problem is really with Skaikru, not Roan, challenge me instead.”
“You’re not worthy of my blade.” He laughed at her.
“I came here to change your mind.”
“You can’t. Trishanakru will have its justice.” Octavia picked up the long skinny dagger on the table, twisting it in her hand before forcing it through Rafel’s ear. Rafel’s speak was cut immediately, his head falling onto the table as he died.
“Long live the king.” She said and pulled the weapon out of his ear, cleaning up the blood on the dagger as well as the blood dripping from his ear, leaving no trace this was a murder. She pulled her hood back on, walking out of the deceased ambassador’s home.
The 13 clans met the next day, Rafel’s threat of a challenge looming over Kane and Roan’s head. Kane and the other ambassadors entered the throne room and Kane approached Roan right away. “Please, it’s not too late to cancel.”
“You failed.” Roan said as he sat upon the throne. “We do this Azgeda’s way. Single Combat. Take your seat, ambassador.” Kane wanted to say more but decided against it, moving back into his seat. Roan looked around the room, his eyes falling upon an empty seat for the ambassador. “Where is Rafel kom Trishanakru?” No one answered but the door opened to Echo, marching to Roan and whispering in his ear. He nodded as she stepped away. Roan glanced at a confused Kane before standing up. “The Ambassador was found dead this morning.” Gasps went around the room as Roan went on. “His heart stopped.” Everyone bowed their heads along with Roan. “May the spirits of the commanders guide him safely home.” Kane looked towards Octavia, not needing much to go on to know she killed Rafel. “Let us begin.”
Ilian turned his head, looking to Octavia behind him. “You going to kill me, too?” He asked her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Octavia played dumb, making Ilian mad as he turned back face front. She extended an arm forward, putting it on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your family.” She told him before pulling away and leaving the clan meeting.
The ride back to Arkadia was rough, the back of the rover filled to the brim with people as you sat up front with Bellamy and bags on your lap. Bellamy came to a stop as you all climbed out, not saying a word about the mission. Miller and Bryan were already out when you managed, overhearing a bit of their conversation of whether or not Miller thought it was worth saving them. You moved around to the back of the rover, helping people alongside Bellamy. Seeing Alpha Station was a shock to them, they probably hadn’t seen much being in chains.
Bellamy and you helped Riley down, watching his hip as he clutched it in pain. “Riley?” Clarke called out as she approached, confused as to where all these people were coming from.
“Clarke.” Riley whispered before they hugged.
“I can’t believe you’re alive.” She told him, pulling away to look at him.
“I am now.” He turned around, both of them watching you and Bellamy help the little girl and a woman out of the rover.
The little girl clutched the back of Bellamy’s jacket after he helped her down. “Get Riley and the others to the med bay. Tell them we’ll take them to their villages in the morning.” Bellamy told Monty. He started to lead the girl to Riley who stuck out his hand, but she pulled away and ran to you.
You gasped in surprise as she wrapped her arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. You stood there, unsure as what to do before slowly hugging her back. The look of shock on your face remained when she pulled away, letting Riley lead her away.
You hadn’t seen Raven approach, too caught up in your hug before she spoke. “Where is it?” She questioned, not seeing the hydro-generator in the rover.
“We didn’t get the machine.” Bellamy told her, sparing you a glance.
“It didn’t survive the landing?”
“No, it did.” You jumped in. “But we had a choice. Bring the machine or save them.”
“Oh, we are so screwed.” Raven muttered shaking her head.
“We have time. We’ll figure it out, but I’m not sacrificing any more innocent lives.” Bellamy defended himself.
“You just did.”
“I made the call, and I’ll live with it.
Raven scoffed. “Yeah, and you’re not the only one who has to live with your call, as usual.”
You stepped up, tired of this conversation. “Stop! Both of you! You weren’t there. This wasn’t just Bellamy’s call, it mine too. Do you wanna look that kid in the eyes? Go tell Riley that you think we should’ve left them for dead.” You pointed off in the direction Riley and the girl left.
The three of them looking at you in shock as Clarke nodded. “Ok.” She turned to Raven, her voice lowering. “How many of us will the ship sustain without a hydro-generator?” You felt Bellamy’s hand on your back as Raven answered, telling her not more than a hundred. You all sighed, looking out at the people you and Bellamy saved and the people that needed to be saved. “What am I supposed to tell the people now?”
“How about the truth?” Raven suggested, unsure as to why this was even a question. “Crowdsource it, like we talked about.”
Clarke looked to you and you nodded. “Call for a general meeting.” She told Raven who took off. You and Bellamy stayed back with her.
“What are you going to do?” Bellamy asked.
Clarke paused, thinking back on the advice Jaha gave her. “Hope that there’s a forgiving god.”
The meeting was started as soon as everyone was rounded up, Clarke stepping up to address everyone as you stood off to the side with Bellamy and Raven.
Clarke explained everything, all about what ALIE showed you and everything about Praimfaya. “So now you know the truth.” She told them. “I know you’re afraid. I know you’re angry, but when Y/N shut down ALIE, she knew there would a way to get through this together.” Heads turned to look at you, but you didn’t stare back, choosing instead to focus on Clarke’s speech. “Alpha Station is that way. Every single one of us will survive on this ship.”
Your mouth fell open a little. “She didn’t just…” you whispered, looking at Bellamy who nodded. You should’ve known Clarke wouldn’t tell the truth.
She finished up her speech, asking for volunteers and promising them they’ll survive.  She left her spot, joining the three of you.
“Nice Speech.” Sarcasm obviously came from Raven’s voice as Clarke took a deep breath.
“Sometimes hope is more important than truth.”
“Your dad would be so proud.” Raven scoffed at her.
Clarke narrowed her eyes. “You wanted workers. You got them.” Clarke was right, there was a bunch of people who were now volunteering to help. Raven sent her a glare before leaving, leading the volunteers to the hangar bay. The three of you watched her leave.
“We save who can save today.” Bellamy told you both, repeating his words from earlier. You looked up at him, giving him a thin smile before looking to the rover. Your stomach as you caught sight of someone standing there next to it, someone who definitely shouldn’t be there.
Lexa?
You couldn’t believe your eyes and you shouldn’t have because the moment you blinked, she was gone. No one else having seen anything. You cleared your throat, blinking your eyes a few times more as you looked around, your sights landing on the rover in hopes of what? That your deceased friend would be there?
Clarke and Bellamy started walking away but your feet were planted in place. Bellamy paused, seeing you not move. “You coming?”
You looked at him, nodding your head. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll catch up.” You told him. He didn’t say anything as he kept walking taking glances back at you.
You brought your hand up to the back of your neck, feeling the spot where the flame was inserted. The flame? Lexa? The voice?
What the hell?
A/N: Well it’s been a while! Feedback is greatly appreciated and yeah, especially since it’s been a few weeks since I posted Banished. 
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tilltheendwilliwrite · 4 years ago
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Not Another Mummy!
Chapter One
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First Chapter will be on Tumblr only until more can be written. Story originated thanks to this thread. One hundred percent @magellan-88​ ‘s fault. 
Pairing: Stucky   |  Word Count: 2001
Warnings: Language, mild angst, takes place after CA:TWS
Rick O'Connell was a mummy hunter. 
It hadn't always been his job, but he fell into it rather naturally. Well, Evie fell into it by way of raising Imhotep from the dead, damn near dying as the sacrifice to return his dead lover Anck-su-namun to the living, and then banishing him to the underworld. 
Twice.
As he was the (often) put upon hothead Yank to her more stoic (stiff upper lip, Chaps) British ways, her colleagues rolled their eyes at her but always out of Rick's line of sight. Still, there was no one better when it came to weird, ancient woo-woo crap.
So when a telegram came from a woman named Pegs, Evie had dropped everything to run to her side. 
It didn't matter they were crossing warzones or dragging their seventeen-year-old son with them to occupied France, Evie was going.
That was how Rick O'Connell met Steve Rogers, the Captain America, and his best friend, Bucky Barnes, and learned there was such a thing as kindred spirits.
Because Steven Grant Rogers was a punk with balls the size of Texas and no sense of self-preservation, and while Rick would never comment on the size of Evie's metaphorical brass bangers, the first time Bucky Barnes groaned with all the dramatics of a putout housewife and screamed, "Steven Grant Rogers! What the hell are you doing? Get down from there; you shit little punk!" Rick knew he'd finally met someone with his own Evie. 
For Barnes, Rogers was a bit like watching Evie, Alex, and Jonathan all rolled into one, but he at least had Peggy and the Howling Commandos as backup. Rick only had himself - and occasionally Ardeth Bay - to keep his troop of walking disasters from falling into pits, and waking the undead.
In France, the Howlies helped them clear out the spookables in the castle where Pegs had found the books she knew Evie would want to preserve, and the O'Connells and Howling Commandos had parted ways. 
Over the next few years, they occasionally crossed paths, and Rick developed a lasting friendship with Bucky Barnes built on saving their idiots and loving them with their whole hearts. 
So when the news came that Barnes had died, Rick took it hard. He tried to find Steve, but the war was too hot, and any commiseration of grief would have to wait. 
Still, he drowned himself in liquor for a week straight, and Evie, lovely, wonderful Evie, his very own Steve Rogers, poured him repeatedly into bed, where if Rick cried out his grief against her, she never told a soul. 
Then, with the news about Steve, Rick was both saddened and a little at peace. At least they were together. They could spend their afterlife as they had their life. Together. Best friends and, if Rick wasn't mistaken, something a little closer to what he had with Evie than either man shared publicly.
Rick didn't mind. He'd seen them together. Love like that, what did gender matter?
Decades later, when the news splashed across the screen that Steve Rogers was alive, Rick again cried for Bucky Barnes. Seventy years apart. How cruel was this world?
Things had changed by then, some for the better, some worse, but when Steve Rogers once again took up his shield and defeated the enemy falling out of the sky, Rick knew the world hadn't lost both heroes. Steve was still there, still fighting, still a symbol of hope to a nation desperately in need of it.
When the giant of a man showed up at Rick's door, after the Battle for New York, Rick was one hundred and ten years old. The look of surprise on Steve's face made Rick chuckle, even as he welcomed him inside and shuffled back to his recliner. 
They didn't talk about Bucky, though they did chat about Peggy, and Steve asked after Evie, gone now almost thirty years. A long time to be without his soulmate. They'd lost Jonathon before Evie, surprisingly to something as benign as a heart attack, not the loan sharks Rick always figured would do him in. Alex was eighty-six, but that hadn't stopped him from continuing the family business, hunting down artifacts and saving them and humanity when such was required.
Steve smiled softly before saying, "Thank you. People always know what I do or what I've done. They see me as a hero, but you and Evelyn, Alex and Jonathon? You saved the world a couple of times yourselves, but no one knows."
Rick shrugged. "I didn't do it for the world."
Two years later, though Steve didn't visit much, he kept in touch via email or text, which both surprised and touched Rick. He'd moved back to the States after Evie's death, mostly because he couldn't stand to be where she wasn't and had made a life there with Alex hovering.
Then one night, Steve showed up on his doorstep in the pouring rain, still healing from the bruises and broken ribs.
"He's alive."
Rick didn't need to ask who. Just led Steve into the house where the man fell to his knees beside Rick's chair and cried against his thigh like his soul had broken. 
Or maybe it was like the broken bits were slowly forging back together, a beautiful work of Kintsugi, his fractured soul now filling with golden lines of hope. 
When Steve left, it was with determination and purpose Rick hadn't seen on him since the forties. It was like he became a man possessed, determined to find what he'd lost, and Rick wished him every bit of luck. If Rick had the chance to get Evie back, there would be no stopping him. 
Two more years passed, Rick aged a little more, and finally, a knock came at his door. He was one hundred and fourteen when he saw Bucky again. One hundred and fourteen, when he opened the door to a man haunted by trauma Rick couldn't even fathom. 
Still, he opened the door to a grinning Steve, but it was the scowling Barnes he looked at. 
"Jesus fuck you got old," Barnes muttered. 
"Bucky!" Steve gasped. 
Rick laughed so hard he made himself wheeze and waved them in. They joined him in his living room, where he sat, unable to stop smiling. "Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humour."
"Lost some good chunks of memory, but some nice people helped stuff them back in." 
The harsh, cold blue eyes weren't the ones he remembered, but Rick could see him in there. He knew the stories, had heard all the reports. Longest living POW. Assassin. Killed JFK. Some said, war hero. Others cried, villain.  
Rick knew it was likely a little of both in Barnes' mind. 
But Steve still looked at Bucky like he hung the moon, and Bucky occasionally linked his pinky finger through Steve's when he thought Rick wouldn't notice. 
"It's nice to see you boys back together." He jerked his chin at Steve. "That one mopes around something fierce."
"We're figuring it out," Steve said, enough force in the sentence to make it clear he was tired of Bucky running. It had taken two years to get the man to stop. "We've worked things out with Stark. Tony's a hothead, he's angry, but he gets Bucky wasn't in control as the soldier."
Rick watched Barnes' flinch. "No, but it was still your hands, right, Buck?"
Blue eyes darted to his and then away. "How the hell are you still alive?"
"Jeez, Buck!" Steve growled. 
Rick chuckled, enjoying the role reversal. "Clean living." 
They both snorted. 
"Clean my ass. I've never seen anyone out drink Dum Dum before. What gives, O'Connell?" Barnes muttered. 
Rick glanced at Steve. There was a pink flush to the man's cheeks, a clear indication this was something they'd talked about, but Steve had never asked. Rick had always wondered if it was out of self-preservation. Maybe he thought asking would jinx whatever link Steve had left to his past. 
"Alex?" he called out. "Could you come in here?"
"You sure, Dad?" 
Steve and Bucky both stiffened and exchanged a look, likely surprised they hadn't known Alex was there. 
"I thought you said Alex was still in London?" Steve frowned. 
"I lied," Rick smirked. "Yeah, boy. Get your arse in here."
He trotted down the hall and into the living room. "Highya, fellas!"
Bucky and Steve stared, gaping from Alex to Rick and back. 
"Shit," Bucky hissed. "They got you too? How come no one knows?"
Alex leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, grin wide, his face as smooth and unwrinkled as it had been at twenty-five, the year he stopped ageing. The bright, burnished blond of his mop of unruly curls, something he'd inherited from Evie and only recently allowed to grow out, fell over his forehead and into his eyes.
"He's not a super-soldier," Rick explained before either man could have kittens. "Seems there was a side effect to the Bracelet of Anubis no one knew about."
Alex spread his arms and gave a cheeky grin. "Looks like I'm immortal."
Rick slapped a hand to his face. "Unageing is not immortal. You can still die, dumbass!"
"That explains him, but what about you?" Steve asked.
"Something to do with the temple." Rick shrugged. "I went through the door with him. Some of the power rubbed off. I age, just… slower."
"Hence the reason you look a spry eighty?" Barnes mumbled.
Rick chuckled, reached up, and pulled the prosthetics from his face. "More like a spry fifty."
"Jesus!" Steve's eyes went wide. "I never even guessed!"
"Alex is good with the face paint. We've had to be. And that's another reason we moved back here. People were starting to remark on the uncanny resemblance of my grandson to my son."
Steve and Bucky exchanged a look.  
"What?" Rick murmured. "Surely, this isn't too much after witches, aliens, and giant green Hulks?"
"No. No, it's not that," Steve said, quick to reassure them. "It's just…"
"Punk had a second reason for coming today. The Avengers found some woo-woo shit. He wanted you to take a look at it. Stark's fancy AI can tell us lots, but she ain't you."
Rick leaned forward, his back cracking, thankful to be straightened. "I'm no Evie, but squirt over there took after her for smarts. She was always the brain. I was just the muscle."
"Come on, Dad." Alex sauntered in and nudged him. "You learned loads from Mum. Plus, that Warrior for God thing comes in handy on occasion."
"Warrior for God?" Bucky asked.
Rick worked the cuff off his right arm, showing them the tattoo hidden beneath it. "Sorry, fellas. Didn't tell you everything that happened with the Scorpion King."
"Yeah. Like how we used the Book of the Dead to bring Mum back to life," Alex grinned. 
"I'm sorry. You did what now?" Steve asked. 
Rick laughed and shook his head. "All in good time. Alex, get the whiskey. Let's see what you've got."
Steve rose and returned to the door where he'd left a backpack, while Alex grabbed four glasses and a bottle and dumped an unhealthy amount into each one. The bag clanked when Steve set it on the floor between his feet, and Rick arched a brow. 
"This is what we found." He placed the golden box on the coffee table. 
Rick gave a low whistle. "Jonathon would have liked the look of that."
"It's really brilliant, isn't it?" Alex mumbled as he crouched to take a closer look. "Look at the way the rubies are inlaid. It's like someone wanted it to appear as if it were dripping blood." He spun it slowly, taking in the images and raised glyphs. "Shite, Dad! Do you know what this is?"
Rick didn't get a chance to answer no as Alex was already running out of the room. 
"So, is he as reckless as Evie?" Bucky asked, the first semblance of a smirk since his arrival twitching the man's lips.
"Worse. He's got a nose for treasure like Jonathon and my stubbornness," Rick chuckled. "Then, there's his mouth."
"Which he definitely got from you," Steve chuckled.  
Rick didn't dispute it. 
Alex returned and dropped a book as thick as Steve's arm on the table, causing it to jump, the chest to skitter across it, and only the reflexes of two super-soldiers to keep everything from going sideways. 
"Alex! Calm your enthusiasm!" Rick barked. 
"No! No, calming!" The manic gleam in his eyes never boded well for any expedition. "Look!" 
He wrenched the book open, sending dust and the scent of musty pages spinning, but it opened on an illustrated page of a female warrior standing over the bodies of the slain. 
"Ah, no," Rick groaned. "Not another mummy!"
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rejectclone · 4 years ago
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I’ve been meaning to update the mini bios for my OCs, it took me some time to try to condense their core aspects and backstory stuff into smaller paragraphs but I’m finally done!
NAME: Jared Clements
AGE: 28
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Bisexual
RACE: White (is of Hispanic descent)
OCCUPATION: Detective/Deputy
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good
SHORT BIO: Who was once one of the greatest detectives in Neo York City’s police branches, now a shattered former shell of himself after the Incident. Physically and emotionally mauled from the explosion that killed his partners and his reputation, he now ruminates at the station, plotting for his revenge against the criminal organization that led to his fall. Formerly known to be the most kind and upbeat member of the station, he has become cold and callous to everyone, but the new recruit might pull him from his self-imposed darkness.....
NAME: Devon Cox
AGE: 25
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Straight
RACE: ‘White’/Ambiguous (HEAVILY mixed, but he identifies mostly with being Italian)
OCCUPATION: Trainee Officer, former illegal bloodsport boxer
ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good
SHORT BIO: The bastard son of a seedy bookie and a mother who clearly did not take good care of herself, along with being the only mute member of his family, he was deemed a unwanted child. Eventually, his parent’s actions caught up to them one night out, and as they were slaughtered, their son was left alone at home. Soon adopted by his uncle on his father’s side, he was essentially forced to ‘repay the debt’ by becoming a bloodsport fighter, regardless if he wanted to do it or not. As a adult, the illegal ring has fallen due to on-going corruption, he is now again left alone as his corrupt uncle got hauled off to prison. Left to his own devices and lamenting his actions, he now wants to pave his own path by repaying his own debts by joining the NYPD. Unknown to his new coworkers, he has spilled blood numerous times and won’t hesitate to do what must be done in some situations.....
NAME: B055 M4N
AGE: 24 in 4027 (BEFORE DEATH) 80 in 4083 (POST RESURRECTION)
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Straight
RACE: White
OCCUPATION: Lieutenant
ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral
SHORT BIO: He was supposed to be the next gleaming star in the NYPD’s legacy of lieutenants, all from the same bloodline spanning across decades...... until he was assassinated at his induction ceremony in front of the general public. Ironically, his fate was not sealed there, as a week before his induction, he was coaxed into signing up for a ‘organ donation program’, to a incredibly specific experimental medicine company. He never expected his corpse to be used in a unethical program to create a supercomputer, devised of a human consciousness instead of a AI, to ensure that it will have a good stance on logical proceedings of organization and the law, and will not suffer from conflicts of interest. Unfortunately for him, the total conversion to a machine was semi-successful, as they could only resurrect his head...... Now doomed to be a severed head in a jar filled with PFC and the inability to speak (well, at least without using text-to-speech), he has been forcibly instated to be the permanent boss of the station. His true appearance is a facade to essentially everyone, as the ‘higher-ups’ creates false non-existent lieutenants to be instated every few years to keep the act going, except a very select few know of his current situation.
NAME: Lydia Hall
AGE: 25
GENDER: Female
SEXUALITY: Lesbian
RACE: White
OCCUPATION: Psychiatrist, uses ‘personal nurse’ as a cover
ALIGNMENT: True Neutral
BIO: She is considered to be one of the ‘greatest’ newer psychiatrists to ever grace the continental US, but nobody expected her to suddenly disappear off the face of the earth, upon getting a ‘promotion’ one day. Unknown to almost everyone, she was coerced into the psychological monitoring of one of the company’s most experimental projects, the undead severed head turned database at the local NYPD station. His previous care taker had to be laid off due to ‘concerns’, and thus she now must monitor him on a near daily basis, cleaning out his tank, making sure he is still sane, and to just stay there to entertain him basically. She never expected her career to be basically reduced to a personal nurse, and yet here she is. Unfortunately for her, the true nightmare unfolds when a certain hazmat wearing being stumbles into the picture.
NAME: Lawrence Grey
AGE: 47
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Straight
RACE: White
OCCUPATION: Geneticist
ALIGNMENT: Neutral Evil
BIO: A famed scientist who has been working for ages for a experimental medicine company. He was renown for his research in advancing certain projects, some more well received than others however. A overall stoic man, his coworkers reluctantly follow his command, never fully knowing what he thinks of them. Dedicated to his work, the higher-ups gave him access to a incredibly hidden cloning program, regardless if he wanted to work there or not. Not wanting to bond to his ‘projects’, he continued his intimidating aura, until one of them in particular piqued his interest. It would have been better if the clone never showed any promise however, as the impeding transport to another lab will lead to his escape, and his ‘father’s’ coma.....
NAME: [REDACTED]
AGE: [REDACTED]
GENDER: [REDACTED]
SEXUALITY: [REDACTED]
RACE: [REDACTED]
OCCUPATION: [REDACTED]
ALIGNMENT: [REDACTED]
BIO: ……………… he wasn’t meant for this world. The forced byproduct of a illegal cloning procedure, made to be a rejected failure on purpose. As for why? The higher-ups of the organization believed that the more malformed and sickly the clones are, the higher the chance they might carry new genes that can cure said sicknesses. The #439th clone to be made, he seemed to be another waste of flesh and blood. If it wasn’t for his ‘caretaker’, he would’ve been euthanized after a month. Desperate to ‘spare’ this subject, the caretaker demanded him to be transferred to another laboratory base, as rumors began to spread that the project has been leaked to shareholders. That fateful night, he was given a technologically advanced hazmat suit to conceal his inhuman appearance, and was shipped off to his new ‘home’. Alas, as fate would have it, the hovervan he was in along with his ‘father’, crashed, leaving him to wonder aimlessly in the pouring rain, hiding in a alleyway until he was spotted by two odd looking officers, trying to close-off the crash site. He was taken in to the station, where somebody claimed it was his ‘son’. Taken up to the lieutenant’s office, much to the confusion of many, this clone will blend into daily happenings of the station.
NAME: Ren Nakamura
AGE: 22
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Robosexual
RACE: Japanese
OCCUPATION: Future heir to the head of a crime syndicate, doubles as a criminal lawyer as a cover
ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral/Evil
BIO: The next in line to his family’s criminal syndicate legacy, he is reluctant at first, but must come to terms to what he must do. Raised up to be cold and unrelenting towards his underlings and other syndicate bosses, he will never back down from a fight, always striving to be on top. However, nobody really expected him to come up with a plan to undermine other syndicates, by actually studying criminal law and becoming a legitimate defense attorney in order to coax his clients into exposing future plans (in which he will immediately inform his father of...). Recently he was assigned a personal body guard, who has a ‘unique’ physical composition and will surely make a great hitman. The two of them go along quite well, considering their popular opposites in personality.
NAME: Deangelo Moore
AGE: 25
GENDER: MALE
SEXUALITY: Gay
RACE: German-American
OCCUPATION: Cybernetic hitman, uses ‘criminal lawyer’ as a cover
ALIGNMENT: Lawful Evil
SHORT BIO: Neither fully man nor machine, this once respected art dealer has gone fully into the seedy underbelly of Neo York. As a escapee convict test subject from a experimental ‘liquid metal’ cyborg program, he is a con man on the run, until as fate would have it, he was accepted as a personal ‘body guard’ for one of his former clients’s son. With no real home to go to anymore as his public reputation has been disgraced, he now gleefully takes in stride that he is a ‘ghost’ among the populous, a potentially unstoppable killing machine who is only curbed by his greed and urge to be respected by other powerful beings. His former life now gone, he now works for his employer as if they were blood relatives, and even agreed to do a surreal operation, to directly siphon information from other rival ‘organizations’ by acting.........as public criminal lawyers who defend them..........
NAME: ‘John’ (he was never properly named by any of the scientists, so he named himself. His ACTUAL name is Specimen - 1257)
AGE: 21
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Straight, but questioning
RACE: Literally nothing
OCCUPATION: Chemist, radiobiologist
ALIGNMENT: True Neutral
BIO: After two nuclear wars ravaged the Earth, odd things will happen to all sorts of life. This is one of them, a human who has the unfortunate pleasure of having their physical composition be mainly nuclear radiation. Much about his early past is kept under wraps by the US government, who sent him away as a infant to a remote chemical research base in Alaska, in fear of him being the next nuclear detonation. Left without proper social interaction and is just seen as a genetic anomaly, it left him with a warped view of life. With incredibly poor socialization skills but a surprisingly large scientific intellect, he has been reduced to hidden-away lab worker, who’s aware of essentially being a captive but is shocking content with it. After all, if he were to be released, the genral public wouldn’t take too kindly to a mannequin-like being with stark white skin and exposed green goo leaking out of his facial orifices, with a near constant glowing aura.
NAME: ‘Mark’ (he was never properly named, and this is just a name given to him by ‘John’. His ACTUAL name is Specimen 1258)
AGE: 21
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY: Literally doesn’t care at all
RACE: Literally Nothing
OCCUPATION: Convict, former hitman
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Evil
BIO: What’s more strange than one severely irradiated human being with physical nuclear radiation as flesh and blood? His red colored doppelgänger. With a past even more shrouded in mystery, this ‘man’ seems to originate from the wastes, the former parts of the US that were scarred from the previous two wars. Claiming to be the next step in human evolution, he is incredibly cruel and harsh, and when introducing himself to the criminal underworld as the ‘best’ hitman, he was severely feared by many. Even other rival hitmen who genetically or cybernetically augmented themselves saw him as a legitimate threat to themselves, as after all, he’s a actual living biohazard. They all chipped in together to pin him against who they believe is true my IMMUNE to him, another ungodly hitman with a liquid metal composition. The plan worked, as letting him just step foot into NYC triggered radiation alarms, thus exposing him to the government for the very first time. After a short stint at a supermax prison, he was given a deal: stop irradiating the guards and convicts, and we’ll move you to a more private place where you can do basically almost anything you want. The place in question? A remote research base in Alaska.....
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averagemarvelbitch · 5 years ago
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From Father To Son (Stony) 3/?
Warnings: Mpreg
Part One / Part Two / Part 3
Like, comment, reblog! Help the writers on TUMBLR keep on giving you free content!
---
Four months
It was raining outside. Correction, the world was very much ending outside. Lightning lit up the sky every once in a while, followed by the booming sounds of thunder right after. Tony sat on his couch, hands holding his stomach protectively, and closing his eyes every time the light filled his living room, waiting with a grimace for the loud noise that would soon follow.
“It’s okay”, he whispered towards his belly in a soothing tone, “it’s just a storm. It’ll end soon”.
Thunder once again exploded outside, making Tony jump. He tried to calm himself, tried to get his breathing under control, but it was useless. He hated storms, always had, ever since he was a little boy. Although, back then, he’d had Jarvis to keep him company. He closed his eyes and smiled, remembering the old butler. He’d make hot chocolate with little marshmallows in it and talk to Tony about anything and everything, distracting the little boy until the storm outside had passed. It was one of the few cherished memories he had from his childhood.
Suddenly, his phone rang, taking his mind away from Jarvis and his younger years. He took it from the coffee table and immediately smiled upon seeing the name on the screen.
“Hey you”.
“Hey you”, Steve replied and Tony swore he could hear the smile in his voice, “I remembered you saying something about hating storms so I’m calling to see how you and the peanut are doing”.
He smiled. They had exchanged phone numbers that night after the hospital and ever since then they’d talked pretty much every day. From their childhoods to their favorite TV shows, they discussed everything and anything, as if they’d been friends their entire lives.
“Well, peanut is a little scared, but I’m doing my best to calm them now”, Tony joked back.
“Would some hot chocolate with marshmallows calm them down?”
“It probably would”, he laughed, shaking his head, “Unfortunately, I don’t have any milk”.
“Well, I have milk… and chocolate and marshmallows”, Steve replied.
“Tempting, but there’s no way I’m leaving my house, Cap”.
“You don’t have to leave your house; you just need to wait for the elevator”.
Tony stopped for a moment, confused.
“What elevator?”
He turned to his right, watching as the elevator doors suddenly opened and laughed upon seeing a very sheepish Steve walking out of it with one bag on each hand.
“What are you doing here?”
Steve shrugged. “I thought you might appreciate some company… and a nice cup of hot chocolate, of course”.
Tony smiled and nodded.
“I do love hot chocolate. Also… JARVIS, why didn’t you tell me Steve was here?”
I apologize, sir, the AI replied, but Captain Rogers asked me not to tell.
“It was a surprise”.
“It’s a very nice surprise!”
Steve walked over to Tony and stopped close to him, slightly bending over to get his head closer to his stomach.
“Hey, peanut! Heard you’re a little scared, but don’t worry, uncle Steve is here with chocolate and marshmallows”.
Tony rolled his eyes and followed Steve to the kitchen, sitting down on the tall stool. He watched the other man taking pans and cups from the cabinets as if he’d been living there for years, completely comfortable in Tony’s kitchen. The loud noise of yet another thunder filled the room once more, making the engineer wince.
Steve must have noticed the uneasiness in his eyes because he quickly asked, “So, you were talking about that clean energy project before… How does it work again?”
And just like that, Tony began to excitedly talk about his project, very nearly forgetting the storm that still raged outside.
Five Months
Steve stared at the picture on his phone with a smile on his face, completely ignoring the conversation happening around him. He was about to send a quick text to Tony, curiosity eating him up, when the man himself beat him to it, sending him the one piece of information he’d been dying to know for weeks now.
Meet Miss Morgan Stark.
Steve’s smile grew even bigger upon reading the message.
Congratulations, Tony!
“What’s that?” Bucky asked over his shoulder, frowning as he looked at the phone.
“It’s a 3D sonogram of Tony’s baby. It’s a girl!” Steve replied excitedly, proudly showing him the picture.
“That’s weird”.
Steve frowned, shaking his head, “No, it’s not. She’s holding her face and sucking on her thumb, see?”
“No, dumbass, I mean it’s weird that this random guy you met at the supermarket is sending you pictures of a baby that hasn’t even been born yet”, Bucky countered, rolling his eyes and sitting next to Steve, passing him a beer.
“We’re friends”, he defended himself, taking the beer a bit too forcefully, “And as friends, we share things with each other, it’s normal”.
Bucky and Sam exchanged looks and sighed, preparing themselves for a serious conversation.
“Are you friends? I mean, just friends?”
Steve groaned, taking a long sip of his beer, “Here we go again”.
“We’re not trying to be assholes here, okay?” Bucky complained, making a face at his best friend, “We’re just saying that this friendship… the way you talk about him, the way you worry about him, the way you’re staring at a picture of his baby… We know you, Stevie. You fancy him!”
“Yeah, and we’re only saying this because you’re usually too dumb to notice these things”, Sam completed, earning a nod of agreement from Bucky.
“So, not only you’re accusing me of being in love with Tony, you’re also calling me dumb?” Steve asked deadpanned.
“First of all, we’re not accusing you, we’re informing you, you dumb dork; and second of all, we love you, man, but you are really dumb when it comes to relationships and stuff”.
“We’re just trying to help”, Sam pitched in, giving Steve a small smile.
Steve was about to reply when his phone went off. He ignored his friends and turned his attention to it.
I’m going to the store tomorrow to pick some furniture and some paint for the baby’s room.
Steve discretely glanced at his friends, who were too busy playing Mario Kart to notice anything else happening, and sighed, turning back at the phone.
Would you like some help? I can paint the nursery for you.
He bit his lips as he hit sent. It was a normal thing to offer, right? They were friends, Tony was pregnant, paint was probably bad for him because of the smell and… whatever. He was just being a good friend. That was all. He wasn’t in love with Tony.
He really really wasn’t.  
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itsallavengers · 6 years ago
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Freak Weather Conditions
(Thorbruce, getting together, hurt/comfort)
“You’ve been here a while.”
From across the room, Thor watched as Bruce looked up quickly from his book, turning to Thor and then smiling at him in recognition. He was curled up on the large windowsill, a blanket wrapped cosily around his shoulders so that only his head and hands were stuck out of it, available for turning pages and sipping on the coffee at his side. Thor took him in, feeling the immediate urge to smile upon seeing him. Bruce looked adorable like that – comfortable in a way he rarely did. It was lovely to see.
“Hi, Thor,” Bruce said in greeting, voice croaky from disuse. He shuffled upright on the window sill and flicked a hand self-consciously through his messy hair as his cheeks went a little pink. “I, uh, was just catching up on my reading list. Free day, y’know? Gotta spend some time relaxing in this madhouse.”
Thor grinned, walking further into the room. He resisted the urge to head straight over to Bruce and scoop the man up into his arms, swoop down to kiss his forehead and bury his nose into those soft curls. It was a regular restraint he had to enforce upon himself, and one that he was wearily used to by now. Such was the nature of unrequited love, unfortunately.
But Bruce as a friend was more than enough, and Thor had long since learned to accept that. He instead came down and sat a good, comfortable distance away from the other man, back leaning into the opposite wall of the window-sill as he looked outside into the New York skyline. It was pouring with rain; huge drops that fell straight down and splashed up against the windows with an incessant pattering. Thor could feel the current running through the air, and then a second later they both watched in fascination as a bolt of lightning cracked through the sky as if it were tearing it open.
“I love Thunderstorms,” Bruce said quietly, and Thor turned to him with a small smile and a raised eyebrow, “they’re very… comforting, in a way.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone call a storm ‘comforting’ before,” Thor said with a cocked head. Bruce was a fairly quiet man, but the things that he said never failed to make Thor invariably happy in some way- even when they were mundane things, like ‘can you pass the milk’ or ‘please don’t encourage any electrical storms in the lab’.
The word Clint used often- ‘whipped’- sprang to mind, and… yeah, okay, perhaps Thor could agree with that one. For Bruce Banner, he wasn’t sure if there was anything in the nine realms he would not do.
Across from him, the other man shrugged, the blanket slipping a little off his broad shoulders as they moved. Bruce looked over to him with a soft expression in his eyes. “I just think they’re beautiful,” he told Thor quietly, “power in such a raw form… we’ll build space travel and time machines and control every aspect of life that we can, but not the thunder. We can’t control that.” He paused, before sighing and rolling his eyes at Thor’s dry look. “Okay, well, most people can’t.”
Thor winked at him, and Bruce laughed. It was a truly wonderful sound, and one Thor could never tire of. They watched one another for a little while, maybe just a second too long, until Thor felt his cheeks go a little pink and he looked back to the skyline at his side. Blushing was, regrettably, a universal thing, and he tended to be in a constant state of redness whenever Bruce was near. The man was just so…so…
Hell, Thor wasn’t even sure how to describe it. He was a God who walked among men, and every day he was reminded of the power he held, the knowledge of the universe that he knew humanity would not be able to grasp for another few thousand years- and yet Bruce Banner still managed to make him feel… weak. But the good sort of weak. He was incredible- one of the brightest minds Thor had ever known, and he was beautiful, and kind, and gentle in ways that Thor couldn’t ever understand. He’d been through so much, but that gentleness had never left him. Thor loved that about him. He loved the man’s strength- not the big angry and green kind, but the dedication. The perseverance. There truly was no one else in the world who could compare to Bruce Banner. Not in Thor’s eyes, anyway.
He felt himself sigh, just a little. A God in love with a mortal; this was how all the tragedies went, wasn’t it? And yet, Thor barely even thought it would be a problem. Bruce didn’t look at him that way, and he probably never would.
“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, snapping Thor out of his little spiral of thoughts as he turned to the other man, “I’ve just been a bit caught up in my own world today. Do you want something? Like I said, I’m free today, so,” he spread his arms and smiled, “I’m all yours.”
Thor smiled through the clenching of his heart. God, if only. “Nah,” he shook his head and rested his elbows onto his knees. Sparring could wait.  Bruce was happy here. “Just wanted to come visit you.”
The scientist’s nostrils flares as he blushed and looked down at his lap. The shadows of the rain flitted over his face, speckling him with droplet-shapes. Although not many humans agreed with Bruce, Thor certainly did. This sort of weather was just as beautiful as the sun, if not more so.
Then again- as Thor looked over to Bruce, who’d turned back to gaze up at the sky with a soft, gentle look in his eyes- perhaps Thor just had a bias.
 -
 Mornings in the Tower were a hectic event, and it was always a scramble to the kitchen in order to get to the food first without it disappearing. What with him and Steve and their constant hunger, Clint’s greediness and Tony’s general desire to hoard his food like a squirrel, it seemed it was always a battle to just get a slice of toast. It had resulted in more than one actual battle before.
Usually, though, Bruce was around to keep them in check. He held onto the wooden spoon and smacked any wandering hands that threatened to start trouble, stood vigil by the stove and prepared endless amounts of bacon and eggs, and quickly calmed any bickering with threats of turning green and unleashing his rage upon all of them. It was very effective. Like a delicate ecosystem, the team had found their balance in the mornings, and worked together in order to benefit one another to the utmost. Tony and Steve had formed an alliance in which they shared their food, and Natasha usually just picked at everyone’s plates like a vulture, eating her shares and then handing some off to Clint. Thor himself merely stood next to Bruce, allowing himself first pick of all the things that came off the stove. It worked.
Except for the morning when Bruce failed to show up.
“Touch my bacon one more time, Barton, and I’m going to snap every single one of your stupid arrows and then start on your fingers,” Tony snapped at the man across the table, curling his hands protectively around his plate and snarling.
“You don’t even eat all of it!”
“Yeah, but Steve will! Not you!”
Thor watched from his position near the stove as Natasha snuck in and stole one of Tony’s slices of toast from under his arm. He span around in anger, and then Clint took the opportunity to take the bacon while he back was turned. Thor sighed. “Tony, I’ll just put some more on the-“
“-No, it’s okay,” Steve told him, snatching Clint’s entire plate away from him and then sliding it over to Tony, much to the archer’s distress, “we’ve got some more right here.”
Oh God- well that’d done it now. Clint yelled in outrage, standing up from the counter and leaping onto it with a finger pointed accusingly at the pair of superheroes sat opposite him. Thor took another look at the fast-approaching disaster that was building, and hastily decided to vacate the premises and leave them to battle it out with one another. He was too hungry to have to fight for his food. “JARVIS,” he asked as he grabbed for a sweater that was either his or Steve’s, “where’s Bruce?”
The AI was silent for a moment. “He is in his quarters,” he admitted in the end, “but he wishes not to be disturbed.”
Thor frowned. Bruce usually woke early, and he’d often admit that his favourite time of day was breakfast with the team. However, Thor couldn’t fault him for wanting to stay in bed for once. There was only so much of Tony and Clint’s screaming that one could take, after all.
Thor let it slip from his mind as he went over to the nearby Starbucks and bought himself a sandwich there, having a friendly chat with the Barista who served him as he did so. He thought about maybe buying Bruce one too, but eventually decided against it. Bruce said shop-bought sandwiches tasted like plastic, and if he didn’t want to be disturbed, he was probably busy anyway. Instead, he found himself wandering over to the little shop down in some forgotten street-corner, tightly packed in against other bigger and better buildings. He knew Bruce liked to come here to buy his coffee beans when he had the time. Thor wasn’t sure why. They all tasted the same to him. But all the same, he walked in and looked around on the shelves, wondering what in the hell was the flavour that Bruce liked best. He knew he didn’t even need to buy it just now, really. Bruce had plenty in his shelves. But… well, Thor just liked to see the way he smiled; soft and gentle and surprised, like he wasn’t used to be being given gifts.
If Thor had the chance, he would probably never stop giving the other man gifts. Bruce deserved to be cared for like he was royalty, but he always seemed to think the opposite. It drove Thor insane. More than anything, he simply wished he could make Bruce see himself the way that Thor did.
With a shake of his head, Thor tugged four different packs off the shelves and bundled them onto the counter. He wished for a lot of things, when it came to Bruce. He was wearily resigned to the fact that, though a king he may be, he wasn’t a genie. Some things were just unattainable. But dammit if Thor wasn’t going to try all the same.
By the time he arrived home again, it seemed the breakfast animosity had been resolved. It looked like they’d ordered Chinese food, which even Thor knew was absurd and went against all human etiquette laws. “Where the hell did you even manage to buy this as 10 in the morning?” He asked, poking one of the boxes as he set his bag down on the table. Tony just grunted unintelligibly.
“Know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy,” he said from the couch in the living room, waving an absent hand and then returning to the cartoon program that the whole team were watching. Thor was pretty sure the target audience for said cartoons were five-year old girls, but hey, he wasn’t judging. Instead, he just rolled his eyes and stuffed the bags of coffee into Bruce’s assigned shelf, hoping that they were the ones he liked. Glancing over his shoulder once he was done, he looked over to Steve, wondering whether the other man had remembered the sparring session that they’d agreed to the day before. But Steve seemed to have let it slip from his mind, because he was still in his pyjamas on the couch next to Tony, and from the way that Steve’s arm was wrapped tentatively around the back of the couch and Tony was moving steadily closer into him while Steve just shot him longing glance after longing glance, Thor knew that the other man’s mind was probably…. Occupied.
He huffed in amusement and turned back around with a fond shake of his head. Human affection. Pah. Thor would never be so nervous when it came to his own feelings. He was not from Earth, he did not have the same qualms about love as they did-
“Thor,” JARVIS said, quiet enough that the rest of the team didn’t hear him from the other room, “Doctor Banner is requesting your presence in his quarters, as soon as possible if you can.”
Thor blinked, his heart doing something funny in his chest. “I thought he didn’t want to be disturbed,” he asked dumbly, “is he—why does he—me? Are you. Uh. Sure about that?”
“Indeed,” JARVIS responded, and he sounded the tiniest bit exasperated, “you, Thor Odinson. I am very certain.”
Thor took a moment, and then nodded hurriedly. “Oh, of course,” he muttered, “of course, I’ll be right there. Tell him I’m coming right away. No, wait- does that sound desperate? Tell him… just tell him I’m coming. No wait, that sounds dirty, tell him-“
“Doctor Banner has been informed of your imminent arrival,” JARVIS cut in before Thor could lose himself entirely. By that point, he AI had moved from exasperation to mild amusement. “If you would like to make your way to the elevator, I will gladly take you to his quarters.”
Thor nodded hurriedly and dropped the rest of his stuff on the counter. Bruce probably just wanted him to bounce an idea off or test the tensile strength of something. Usually that’s what he summoned Thor for- although admittedly, it was always to the lab and never to his own quarters. Not that going to his quarters was a world-altering event, really- he’d been there plenty of times, he’d just never been summoned. It felt like a bigger deal. Was it more personal to be summoned to a man’s laboratory or a man’s bedroom? In normal circumstances, Thor would say the latter, but this was Bruce. The guy spent 90% of his time in that lab. Maybe this was just a step down as opposed to a step up in their relationship. Maybe Bruce was trying to establish boundaries here- ‘I’ve decided I no longer want you in my lab, but the room I spend no time in and have barely any attachments to is fine’.
He frowned at his reflection in the chrome of the elevator as he stepped inside. Perhaps he was overthinking this just a little bit.
It took twenty seconds for the elevator to arrive at Bruce’s floor, and Thor could admit that in those twenty seconds he’d probably thought through about a hundred different scenarios that had the possibility of playing out once he arrived. He briefly wished that he’d taken the coffee with him. Then he might have been able to get one of those wonderful Bruce Banner smiles that he loved so much. Maybe he should go back for them? Well, he couldn’t really do that unless he smashed his way back through the bottom of the elevator, and that was just stupid. Plus Tony had warned him that any more unnecessary property damage to his tower would mean that Thor got thrown out and he’d have to live in a cardboard box on the street, and so he was slightly more wary now, because he couldn’t quite tell whether or not Tony was joking.
The elevator doors slid open, and Thor stepped out, head peeking around the corner in search of Bruce. The living room was empty, and the blinds drawn to hide the bright sunlight of the day. He couldn’t see anyone there, but a second later he heard a small clattering from the kitchen and he turned his head with a frown, stepping further in. “Hey Bruce,” he called, “you wanted me?”
A second later, the man’s head popped up from under the counter. Thor blinked I surprise. “Hi,” Bruce said, voice strangely uneven, “hi, I’m just…. Sorry, just looking for my tea-bags, I swore I left them in one of these cupboards, dammit.” He ducked back down and there was another clatter, like the man was pulling the entire shelf out. Thor winced at the noise and wandered forward, his brow furrowed. Bruce was a very organised person by nature, and he always liked to keep things clean- something that had resulted in more than one argument when he was sharing a workspace with Tony, who was a disaster on a good day. But his kitchen was completely overturned now; cooking equipment lying everywhere, whole draws taken out of their racks and ransacked. Thor had a feeling that this wasn’t just about the tea, and his heart sank.
“Bruce,” he began, keeping his voice low and gentle, “are you… are you alright?”
Bruce paused, before clearing his throat and nodding jerkily. “I’m fine,” he croaked, “I just… this stupid fucking tea, green tea, supposed to help calm you down and I can’t find it, I think that’s like some sort of fucking metaphor or something, I don’t fucking know, Jesus, I just—” he broke off, sucking in a sharp, unsteady breath as he fell onto his butt and then palmed a hand across his face. Thor stared at him as he shook. “I need you to watch me,” he choked, “just in case. I’m… I’m really on edge, Thor, if I turn right now I might seriously hurt people.”
The look on Bruce’s face was one that was broken, despairing, and endlessly frustrated. His hands were balled into fists against his face, and Thor could see the effort he was having to expend simply to keep himself from going Green and Hulking out. Thor knew that without intervention, it’d be unlikely Bruce would be able to keep this at bay on his own.
“Hey,” he began, stumbling forward and then getting to his knees next to Bruce, his hands wavering with uncertainty around Bruce’s shoulders before tentatively settling themselves. “You’re not going to turn. I’ve got you, alright? You just need to… find a way to calm down a little. What is it that’s… when did this start?” He tried, looking at Bruce’s strained face and resisting the urge to pull him in for a hug. Humans dealt with stress in very different ways than Asgardians did. They never quite managed to process their trauma quite as well, and it left them with battle-scars in their brains that Thor could didn’t understand much of, but admired them for being able to deal with all the same. Some people liked to be embraced in times like these, but Thor wasn’t sure whether Bruce was one of them yet, and he didn’t want to push it.
“I was mentioned on the news,” Bruce whispered to him, swallowing heavily and looking at the floor, “General Ross, he… was talking about military assets, plans they had- he just mentioned their ‘losses’ over the last few years and I knew… I knew he was thinking about me, y’know? It’s stupid, it’s dumb, I just…” Bruce coughed, hands shaking harder. “once I’d had that thought, I just remembered all the years I spent running, hiding—fuck, I’m never really going to stop having to do that, am I? I’ll always just be their thing, their fucking possession, I—”
“Bruce,” Thor said firmly, “take a few deep breaths, okay? You know what happens when your heartbeat gets too fast. Come on, with me. In and out. You’re safe here, okay?” He sucked in a long, slow breath through his nose, fingers squeezing gently against Bruce’s shoulder. “I would never let anything happen to you. None of us would. I promise.
Bruce shut his eyes and synced his breaths with Thor’s, shaky and jagged, but there all the same. Now words were spoken while Thor focused on merely getting Bruce to breathe with him, find some peace in the easy action. Thor had spent a long while looking up how to help someone who was having problems with anxiety after seeing Steve go through something similar one time a few months ago, and not having a single idea what to do. It had made him feel so awful to just stand there helplessly, but he knew better now. Hopefully. “Bruce?” He asked, just to check, “how’s it going in there?”
Tiredly, the other man laughed, leaning forward so his forehead brushed against Thor’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he responded, which ultimately did not sound promising, “I nearly lost my shit over green tea, Thor. What the hell’s wrong with me?”
Thor frowned, unable to stop his hand from moving to cup around the back of Bruce’s neck. “The only thing wrong with this is that you’ve been hunted across the world for years, and that is something that is bound to affect anyone.” He brushed his thumb across the whispy strands of hair at the nape of Bruce’s neck, his mouth tightening as he thought of the people who had made Bruce feel this way. He’d only met Ross once, but he knew a shitstain when he saw one, and that guy really took 1st prize. He made a mental note to do some serious threatening next time he bumped into the General. Politics and laws be damned; if every time Bruce saw his face he ended up in this state, well… Thor would simply have to strongly encourage Ross into staying very well hidden. “You are a man who has been through hell, Bruce. This is not something to be ashamed of.”
Bruce just sighed, sinking a little further into Thor’s hold as if he couldn’t help himself. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “you were… probably busy. I just—I can’t deal with the Hulk, not right now, and you’re the only one who—” Bruce cut himself off sharply, taking in another breath. Then, almost nervously, he buried himself further into Thor’s chest. “You’re the only one who I can trust without question,” he whispered.
Thor blinked, hands automatically wrapping around Bruce’s body protectively. He hadn’t expected that to be what he’d come out with. Maybe a ‘you’re tough enough not to get hurt by me’ or ‘you are the only one who can subdue me if I need to be’—but trust hadn’t been something he’d considered. But now he thought about it, he supposed it must be a big deal to a man like Bruce Banner. Thor knew of his bad family history, of the father who’d beaten him and the mother who’d left. He knew that Bruce had spent most of his adult life on the run, helping people wherever he could but never being able to stay for fear of being caught.
To Bruce, trust was pretty much a foreign concept. And yet, here he was, curled up in Thor’s arms and doing just that: Trusting him.
Under his embrace, he could still feel Bruce shake. Feel the tenseness of his body, like he expected Thor to reject him. Shun him for his weakness. But there was no weakness to this, and Thor was just glad that Bruce was letting someone in for a change. Letting someone try to help. And Thor… well, Thor could admit, he had a trick or two up his sleeve that literally no-one else on Earth had.
He squeezed Bruce tight while making sure not to hurt him, and then pulled away just a little, keeping his hands warm and firm against the other man’s shoulders. “Your trust means more to me than anything,” he said softly, wishing Bruce knew just how true those words were. But there was no point in pushing that, not right now, so instead he just smiled slowly and glanced around the room. “I can help you look for the teabags if you want?”
Bruce glanced up, wiping hastily at his eyes. He smiled, lopsided and tight, but there. “That’d… that’d be lovely of you, Thanks, Thor.” He caught Thor’s eyes and for a second, it looked like he was going o say something else, but then he blinked and it was gone. “I swear I put them in the kitchen somewhere, but if I didn’t then there’s always some on the communal floor.”
Thor nodded, getting quickly to his feet and offering a hand to Bruce. The man took it, and as their fingers touched, Thor felt the feeling zip its way up his arm and settle over his chest. They looked at eachother again, just for a second too long, before both of them turned and began to search once more. Thor made sure to keep up casual conversation as he did so, ensuring that Bruce didn’t get lost in his own head for too long and was able to have other things to focus on, and although the conversation was fairly one-sided, he could tell that Bruce was listening to him. That he appreciated it.
They did, in fact, find the tea in the cupboard under the sink, for some reason, stored next to the cleaning fluids. Bruce flushed when Thor held them up, before laughing wearily. “Jesus,” he breathed, “I’m a fucking disaster.”
Thor chuckled as he threw the pack into Bruce’s waiting hands and stood back up. “It’s endearing,” he said earnestly, wiping his trousers clean. “Now on second thoughts, throw the bag back. I’ve decided I’m making the tea and you’re going to go and open the blinds, and then sit over by the windowsill just there, okay?”
Bruce made a small face. “I probably shouldn’t,” he muttered, “got a headache. The light won’t help much.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not sunny.”
“Uh. Yeah it is,” Bruce began, “it’s been sunny all day, that’s why I had to shut the blinds in the first-“
“Well it isn’t sunny any more,” Thor told him firmly, with a small smile as he jerked his head over to the windowsill where he’d seen Bruce perch himself a few days previously. “Just go open the blinds and get cosy, okay? I’ll bring your tea in a minute.”
Bruce looked like he was about to continue arguing, but Thor just stared him down until Bruce gave in and started to walk over to the other side of the room with a small smile on his face. Thor grabbed the kettle that Bruce had chucked on the floor in his scramble to find the teabags and propped it back up onto the stove, hoping that he remembered how to make tea properly this time. The last attempt had ended with something very much piss-like in taste, and Thor would rather not offer that up to the man he loved.
He heard Bruce start to laugh as he pulled up the blinds, and Thor glanced behind his shoulder with a warmth in his cheeks as he observed the man fondly. Bruce was staring out into the New York skyline, a disbelieving grin on his face, while on the other side of the glass window the rain poured from clouds that had rapidly formed up above. A few seconds later, there was a crack of lightning that shot through the sky, and the loud rumble of thunder quickly followed.
Thor felt the thrum of electricity pulse quietly through his body, and he smiled to himself. A neat trick that he’d never thought would come in particularly useful up until now.
He prepared the tea with delicacy and care, and then once he was sure it most definitely did not taste like piss this time, he carried it carefully over to Bruce, who was still looking out of the window with a fascinated gaze. Thor noticed his hands had stopped shaking.
“Here,” he offered the cup over to the other man, and Bruce jumped as he spotted Thor standing behind him, but then took it gratefully.
“You’ve just ruined thousands of New Yorker’s days,” Bruce told him, but it didn’t sound like a chastisement, and Bruce was smiling like he couldn’t stop himself, so Thor counted it as a success and simply shrugged, leaning against the wall.
“But I made one person’s day a little better,” he said, “and it’s one person that I can admit I have a little bit of a bias for. The New Yorkers may just have to deal with some rain while I act upon said bias.” He made an apologetic face out of the window. “My bad, guys.”
Bruce’s light laughter filled his ears, and Thor looked down fondly at him as Bruce sipped from his mug. He was soft like this. Grey skies and rainy weather suited him. Then again, what didn’t? Like Thor had said many times before- he had a bias. But hey, at least he could admit it. 
“You know I meant what I said, right?” He blurted, looking back out of the window when he saw Bruce’s head turn his way. “I’d always keep you safe. Always. I know you’ve spent your whole life running from people who hut you, and I know that’s pretty much all you’ve ever known, but it doesn’t have to be that way any more. And if they ever, ever tried to take you, then I’d do everything in my power to get you back home again.” He paused, feeling suddenly as if he’d gone too far, bared too much. He could feel Bruce’s gaze on the side of his face, and he sure as hell didn’t know what prompted him to say what he did next. Maybe the realization that he couldn’t exactly go back on what he’d said, so he may as well just continue onward.
“I’ve lived a long time, and I’ve encountered a damn lot of people,” he said, finally just plucking up the courage to look Bruce in the eye, “but I’ve never met anyone I cared for quite like you. So. Yeah.”
If it hadn’t been obvious before, it sure as hell was now. He could see from the look in Bruce’s eyes, the way he was staring, jaw slack and mouth open, that the declaration most definitely caught him by surprise.
Well. No one had said Thor was the God of Tact.
He smiled softly at Bruce, the edges tinted with sadness. He knew he’d overstepped, that he shouldn’t have said a thing, but he just needed Bruce to know. To understand how important he was, to Thor, to Goddamn everyone. And hell, if worst came to worst and Bruce started to freak out, Thor could just pull out the ‘ignorant Asgardian’ card- say that he’d only meant it as a friend, a colleague, a good ol- team mate, right? He could make it work- and then after that, he could simply love Bruce Banner quietly and wholly until he eventually died-
“Please forgive me if I’m reading this wrong, my emotions are all out of whack today,” Bruce began, dropping the tea jerkily onto the window-sill and slipping off in order to stand in front of Thor. He looked up at him, his face open and vulnerable and slightly terrified for a moment, but then he shut his eyes and leaned up onto the tips of his toes and-
And then kissed Thor.
His lips were chapped. That was the first thing that Thor noticed. He’d bitten them in his anxiety, and Thor could still taste the tiniest remnants of copper on Bruce’s mouth. It was nervous and soft, and Bruce seemed somewhat clumsy with it, as if he hadn’t had much practise- and it was only then that Thor realised he was so busy analysing everything that he wasn’t kissing back, dammit, wake up Thor.
With a lurch, he lifted his hands and wrapped them around Bruce’s waist, pulling him in and tilting his head in order to give as good as he got. Bruce hummed in surprise, eyes fluttering open for a second before he smiled a little against Thor’s mouth. It tasted like heaven on his tongue.
It was soft, unrushed. They both pulled back after a few minutes, just looking at one another in delight. “So,” Thor said, attempting nonchalance, “are you… was that a ‘thanks for being a good buddy’ kiss, or, uh, a ‘maybe we could be more than that’ kiss?”
Bruce laughed, leaning his forehead into Thor’s chest and then looking back outside. “You made it rain for me,” he whispered, slightly disbelieving, “you made it rain and helped me find my stupid tea and I’ve been in love with you for months, Thor, Jesus Christ.”
He blinked. “You’ve been… for months?”
“For months.”
“Oh.” Thor paused, before feeling a beam break through his face. He stroked a hand through Bruce’s hair and tilted his face back up so he could kiss those chapped, wonderful lips once more. “Me too,” he said, and the happiness leaked uncontrollably through his voice, like a pipe had burst inside his heart. Bruce loved him. Bruce loved him and they’d just kissed, and he wasn’t looking quite so pale any more and that was all Thor could ever want, really. He kissed him again because he couldn’t resist, and Bruce started to giggle against his mouth, making it tickle on Thor’s bottom lip like the brush of a feather.
“You’re gonna have confused the complete shit out of all the meteorologists that are seeing this,” he said to Thor as he raised a hand back out to the window, where rain was pattering incessantly against the glass.
Thor just shrugged, twisting them around then unlocking his knees so he fell onto the windowsill behind him. He pulled Bruce along with him, until the smaller man was sat on his lap with a happy little blush and a skewed pair of glasses. Thor gently corrected them with his ring finger, smiling when Bruce just went even pinker.
“How are you feeling?” Thor asked him, letting his fingers come to settle against Bruce’s neck, checking to see how his pulse rate was doing. A little higher than it should be, but then again, that might be because of reasons that weren’t just anxiety. Thor’s own heart was probably doing the same, because Bruce was just sitting there on his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world, and five minutes ago Thor would have never thought that possibly in a million years. He could hardly even fathom it now, to be honest.
But it was real. It was happening, because he could still taste Bruce’s green tea on the back of his tongue, and he could feel the other man’s warmth seep through into his own skin and those were feeling that Thor could never quite get right in dreams.
Bruce leaned down, kissed him again. “I’m feeling like I want to spend the rest of the day here, with you,” he admitted, his voice soft and tender. “I can’t… I just want to not have to deal with everything else right now. I want to watch the rain fall.”
Thor smiled, watching as another bolt of lightning arced through the sky. Below him in New York, thousands of irritated people were probably running for shelter in sun-dresses and shorts, furious that their days out had been cut short by the freak weather. But Bruce was no longer shaking, and his eyes weren’t as panicked, and Thor would take on a million angry Americans if he got to make Bruce happy at the end of it.
He felt like he was going to wake up any second now and realise that none of this was real, that Bruce wasn’t here, that things hadn’t gone so right. But until then…
“Let’s watch the rain fall,” he agreed, kissing Bruce’s temple and turning to face the window.
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kitahara-rei · 5 years ago
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Stars Shine Brightest In The Darkest of Nights
Here’s the plot dump because I have no idea when I will ever finish this weeps I have three separate notepad files for this I can’t believe my procrastination levels are too damn high
Contains some character information and one (1) small angst below the read more:
Reiji 
Half-fae with 1 green, 1 gray eyes, looks about 25. Half-faes don’t age as fast as humans, though usually those with fae descent are able to use a glamour to hide their actual features. Actual age? Probably over 50 or so. Generally, he calls everyone by nicknames since it makes them less tense about him being a fae and knowing their ‘true names’.
He owns a cafe in Shibuya, the Kotobuki Cafe, passed down from his mother. Reiji runs it alone, funneling his magic to make it into a separate dimension (one of the reasons his powers are so weak). The shop is usually invisible to the main street until he opens for business, and he charms his customers so they don’t remember what magical experience they had inside his shop (since magic is probably controlled and all and not for humans to understand).
His tragic backstory revolves around Aine. He met Aine when they were younger and dated for a while, but as Aine comes from a line of spirit channelers, Reiji wiped his beloved’s memories so that he didn’t have to choose between the two. Aine got married and had a son, Ai. One day, Aine’s wife became deathly ill and passed early. With all the harrowing stress of his family pressing him to take over as the head and the loss of his wife, Aine falls into a depression. Demons whisper to him about the forbidden spells that can revive his beloved, if only he would trade his body in return. Reiji convinces him time and time again not to listen and that it’s not worth it, to think of Ai, but they get into an argument, with Aine storming out of the house. News return to the Kisaragi family that Aine died fighting demonic beasts outside. The truth was that Aine had been possessed by a demon due to the negative energy from his dark emotions and Reiji was forced to kill him. Reiji blames himself for the entire thing, thinking that he should have stopped him somehow and known that Aine wasn’t in his right mind and shouldn’t have let him go alone. So he took custody of Ai instead of leaving him to the strict Kisaragi family, raising him on his own.
Ranmaru
About 22, human summoner. He can summon beasts with the contract on his right eye, a magic signature engraved into his iris. Usually he wanders the Night Market, accepting quests from the patrons of the local tavern to earn money to pay off his family’s debt. He prefers using a blade and a dagger when fighting.
Ranmaru has been searching for a particular demon because his father had been tricked into forming a contract with it for money and power, his soul taken as the price. He works under the mercenary name Black Orchid in the Night Market to find the information he needs. The Kurosaki family name was struck off the Summoners’ Society Register for breaking the law on demon summoning. He knows his father would never contact a demon, and he vows to find the truth of the matter. (But the truth is that his mother had been the one who summoned it, trying to bring their family back into absolute power. The Hijirikawa and Jinguji family also had a hand in it by giving her the idea.)
Ai
15, human. He is Aine’s son, a non-believer of everything magical. Occasionally he does help out around the cafe, but when he’s not, he’s hanging out over at Syo’s house.
Ai knows that his father never returned the day that he argued with Uncle Reiji. He had followed them out the night they argued and seen the entire thing. His memory of the whole ordeal is fuzzy at best, but only one thing stands out clear to him: Reiji covered in blood, clutching at his father’s cold body. He blames the man for killing his father. He ignores most of the magical happenings around him, but in the five years that he lived with Reiji, he somehow realises the truth, but there’s no other place for him to direct his anger at. He doesn’t want to believe that his father was possessed by a demon. Ai does know that Reiji loved his father, from how he visits his grave every year.
Camus
Looks around 20, actual age: unknown.
An old ass vampire from outside of town who was cast into hibernation after the Great Vampire War (don’t ask me which one). He woke up in early 2000s, unfamiliar with the area now known as Romania. He wandered through the changed lands, starved for blood. Camus stumbled upon a portal to the Night Market where he first met Reiji, who offers to help him out by providing him fae-blood, which grants him immunity in sunlight. They meet once or so every fortnight. (Reiji needed a distraction, and vampire bites are very pleasurable.)
-----
A short excerpt of mild Aine x Reiji angst:
Or he could sit down for a while and enjoy the special blend he had stored away in a dusty cabinet, untouched for a while now. That sounded like an excellent idea.
Reiji let out a sigh, popping the cork off the bottle. How long has it been since he had taken a break? He didn't know. The street outside had changed so much over the years, and yet, he still remained the same. Humans, lured over with the promise of the Wonderland that Reiji could deliver to them, were the only source of entertainment he had. He liked the business though; the smiles of his customers got him through the day, and at night, he was tired enough to slip into a dreamless sleep.
He poured himself a cup, swirling the rose-coloured drink in the wineglass. A sweet scent of honey tempted his nose, beguiling him to drink. It was a rare one he found on the Night Market which he spent many a coin to obtain. It tasted smooth on his tongue, the sharp tang of berries mixed with the lull of magic, leaving him light-headed and more relaxed. An excellent wine.
The tinkling of the bell by the door caught his attention. His shop was closed to the human realm, so there wasn't a way for his customers to find a way inside. Not the human ones anyway.
"Pardon me for intruding upon your realm."
He turned to see someone he hadn't seen in a while. "Aine, what a surprise! It's been so long," he exclaimed, fatigue forgotten. He patted the seat next to him excitedly. "Here, join me for a drink!"
Aine looked the same as usual, his hair a brightly-dyed blue. Surprisingly, he was dressed in a casual button-up shirt and jeans, unlike the formal robes that he usually wore when Reiji visited. It made him look younger, like the first time that Reiji had met him. "Yes, it has been a while. I was passing by in the area and I thought to pay you a visit," he said, taking a seat beside Reiji.
He brought out another cup for him, pouring him some from the bottle. "Were you out on a date?" he asked, eyeing him up and down with a grin. "Rather fashionable, I must say. Much better than those stuffy robes you always wore."
Aine smiled, leaning against his arm. "I'm only here to see you," he said, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. But then, his expression grew serious. "How have you been, Reiji?"
"You know how the business is," he said, sighing dramatically. "Anyway, I'm..." ...fine. The word wouldn't leave his mouth. Reiji couldn't lie in front of him, not when he was looking at him like that. "I've been better. It's hard to run the shop when it's just myself, you know. Part-time workers are hard to come by around here," he joked.
Aine nodded. "That sounds tough. How is Ai?"
Reiji smiled. "He’s growing up fine. You should have seen him in his middle school uniform, it’s the darn cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” But then he bit his lip, fighting back the guilt welling up in his chest. “But he definitely hates me.”
“Why would he hate you?”
“Because of what I did to you! He followed us out in the rain, he saw it all, saw me... I had to make him forget.”
He didn't realise that he had been crying until he saw the wet spots on the tablecloth. Wiping away his tears, he tried to bring back his usual grin, but he just couldn't do it. Everything hurt too much.
“Reiji, do you remember the day we met?”
He looked over at Aine, the brief image of his bloodied body laying in his arms flashing through his mind. Reiji blinked it away. His friend’s young face was smiling back at him almost gently.
"I remember the day we met. It was at the beach, when I saw you by the shore, staring out at the sunset. I've always wondered what you were doing there, but then you saw me," Aine said wistfully. "Do you remember, Reiji? What I said to you then?"
"You said my eyes were beautiful," Reiji murmured, sniffing.
"That, they are. Just like the forest leaves and the smooth pebbles under your feet. You must have been lonely all this time," Aine said softly, gently prying Reiji's clenched fingers apart and lacing his fingers with his. Aine’s hand was warm and comforting, though Reiji hadn't realised when his own had started trembling. "I'm sorry, Reiji."
Reiji sniffed, tightening his grasp on his friend's hand. If he held on tighter, maybe Aine would stay this time. "Don't go, Aine," he pleaded softly, feeling his eyelids grow heavier and heavier with each moment. He wanted to chat more with Aine, to keep him within his view. It was so hard to fight against it, but the exhaustion won out. He laid his head on the table. "Don't leave me again."
There it was once more, that sad smile on his face. "I won't. I'm here, Reiji," Aine said. He knew it was an empty promise, but it gave Reiji the comfort he wanted. He closed his eyes.
When Reiji woke up later, he saw the untouched cup of wine where Aine had been. The man already gone. His hand felt so cold, so empty.
"You liar," he murmured. Stretching out his sore muscles, Reiji looked out the window. It was still dark out. There was a few hours before dawn. Picking up the untouched cup of wine from the table, he threw the contents down the drain. The liquid fizzed into smoke the moment it touched the steel basin. In moments, it was completely gone. Just like...
Reiji shook his head. No matter how much he wished for it, Aine wouldn't be coming back. The moment of indulgence in his own self-pity was over. It was time to face reality again.
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theron-darksunder · 5 years ago
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Recruiting The Raven Lord
How your character acts as if they were an in-game follower!
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Selection Line:  “Good.  You are smarter than you look.” and “Hrm... beauty and brains.  What a delightful combination.”
Class:  Hybrid-type spell-blade warlock.  Capabilities as damage include range spell casting and minimal support.  Tanking capacity only as a spell-blade.
Weapons:  Swords, Daggers, Staves (only in the damage capacity) Blood/Shadow/Fire Magic
AI Behavior:  As a tank, he infuses his blades with shadow and blood magic to leech blood from the enemy and maintain his own stamina. Devastating fire abilities are also used to maintain enmity and focus attacks on himself.  Demonic traits become apparent on his form in combat.
In the damage role, he can summon devastating creatures from the void to attack your enemies, leech health through blood magic, and rain down powerful curses along with fire, shadow, and blood magic spells upon your enemy.  Only in the damage role can he sacrifice himself and return full health to you, Last Flight, leaving the player with a Haunted debuff.
Battle Lines:
Entering Combat - “Another soul to add to my collection!”, “This hero business of yours is tiring.”, “Another battle? Fine. Fine. As long as I get blood and souls.”
Taunt - “I can hear your pulse quickening.”
At 50% Health - “Heroes only get others killed.”
At 10% Health - “My power wanes ... I require sustenance.”
Player reaching 50% Health - “Do no worry, if you die, it will not be for long.”
Player reaching 10% Health - “...on second thought, it may take me a little longer to bring you back unless you want a sub par vessel.”
Cooldowns:
Metamorphosis (tank)-  "Your essence will do nicely!” -following by growling-
Last Resort (tank) - “The veil has thinned.  They call for me ...dispatch this wretch quickly!”
Last Flight ability (dps) - “I told you ... heroes get others... killed.”
Soulstone (dps)- “Just in case I get distracted during battle.”
Soul Well (dps)- “What? It is a soulwell, what do you think is in your healthstone?”
Demonic Tyrant (dps)- “Bring me their souls!”
Outside Battle:
“There are many strange things we do not yet understand, horrors that will break the weak and bring the strong down to their knees.”
“Be wary of the Light.  Be wary of the Dark.  Both have unfathomable ways of salvation and destruction.”
“Another quest? Do you ever tire of being at the beck and call of these ...people?”
“The souls have always spoken to me.  You are a stubborn soul that has died many gruesome deaths before.”
Exiting Battle:
"Yes ... this will do nicely.”
-small scoff and chortle-
"The scent of blood is maddening.”
"Perhaps one day, I can get a sample of your blood ... for experimental purposes.”
KO’d:
“This ... is ... merely a setback.”
“Do not let the...Red Witch bring me back...”
“I join Them ... beyond the Veil.”
Resurrected:
"I knew you were competent enough to pull it off.”
“Each time, I come back with less ... of myself.”
“Was it worth it, hero?”
Bonus:
Around Undead - “The spirits are not the only ones that draw me...”
Around Light Wielders - “Are we done yet?”
Hidden Secret:
Encountering a player with a raven pet out - “The ravens always watch and listen.  They remember every face and every act.”
Unlocks a hidden quest for the player upon interaction that traverses Azeroth detailing The Raven Lord’s story.  It culminates in a fight against an eldritch raven-like cryptid from which a shadowy scale can be looted. It has the following flavor text:
“The Great Goddess smiled upon The Seven, her children.  They were neither good nor evil, striking a delicate balance in the realm of Azha’lis. Those pledged to The Guardian that showed great courage and devotion were granted a ferocious form to aid in the protection of all.”
It grants the player the ability to shape shift into a shadowy, black dragon for mount purposes.
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Tagging: @laceandhalos , @favrielle-emberdusk , @sanguinesorceress , @nixalegos , @duraxxor , @miah-ambershade , @bloody-loyalties , @saimbere , @thebuildingcacophony , @telidraedarkbane
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onburdenedwings · 5 years ago
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TRUST NPC || Celestaux de Branchais
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Selection: “I’ll follow your lead.”
Job: Arcanist {Caster DPS}
Weapons: A lovingly crafted grimoire. Though it never seems to be the same one twice.
AI Behavior:
Celestaux is a fairly independent and straightforward companion, and therefore perfect for beginners. He dodges all AOEs to the best of his ability and seems to have a very good handle on battlefield strategy with an uncanny ability to predict incoming attacks, especially in regards to draconic-like enemies. He opens with DoTs {Miasma/Bios} will focus his attacks on the same target as the player. With mobs of three or more enemies, he will ensure all stay constantly under the effect of his DoTs and switch to AOE based attacks {Painflare/Outburst}. His carbuncle will similarly focus the same enemy, executing egi-assault as it comes off of cooldown and Enkindle upon orders. 
Dreadwyrm Trance is used freely upon cooldown, and he will usually reserve execution of Enkindle for use during its effects. Aetherpact is reserved for use directly before the use of Dreadwyrm Trance every time it is off cooldown. Summoning Demi-Bahamut is reserved only for boss fights, and he will brush off any attempts to goad him into summoning it sooner.
Battle Lines:
“Who’s first?” - Starting Attack Line “The situation calls for a bit of adjustment.” - Swapping to a different carbuncle “More fire power? I’ll get right on it..” - Using Dreadwyrm Trance “It seems this requires a bit more force. Stand back!” - Summoning Demi-Bahamut “Please don’t tell people I can do that.” - Demi-Bahamut dissipates “Best spare the healer a bit of trouble. On your feet, if you please!” -Using Resurrection
Limit Break:
• “Are you certain we shouldn’t be saving this? Very well.” - Using Limit Break 1 • “If I must rain fire to end this, so be it!” - Using Limit Break 2 • “You shall meet your end at my hand, even if I must become what I dread most!” - Using Limit Break 3
KO’d:
• “Blast! I wasn’t... finished...” - Variation 1 • “Tell him... I’m sorry...” - Variation 2 • “Ah... this dream again...” - Special Variation - Killed by dragons/meracydians/etc
Revived:
• “My apologies. I shall be more careful.” - Variation 1 • “Gods, how embarrassing. Let us pretend that didn’t happen.” - Variation 2
BONUS:
Celestaux has a damage boost against dragons and beings closely related or similar in physiology, as well as any Ishgardian-trained forces. These things are definitely not related.
If you stop to pet his carbuncle, he will make a comment about the creature becoming spoiled.
If taken into any dungeons in Ishgard or Dravania, he will always be wearing a mask. Speaking to him elicits only flat responses. If taken into The Vault or The Singularity Reactor, he will mutter about ‘that damned Bull’.
______________________________
Tagged by: @sernoudenet
Tagging: @uncojoe, @ivyffxiv, @thorstyr, @snowcoeurl-xiv, @talechaser-ffxiv, @kro-bathory, @this-desert-rose, {And all the other new followers I somehow obtained recently?? I don’t know where you all came from but ily, tell me about your kids!}, @warriorbcund, @fragmentsunbroken, @warriorof-sun-light{And everyone else that’s interested! I need my Trust system options!}
HIGH AFFINITY BONUS:
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Selection: “If you require a shield, let it be mine.”
Job: Temple Knight (Tank)
Weapons: A kite shield and broadsword
AI Behavior:
Celestaux is a fairly stubborn tank; in any Trials he will always move to be the Main Tank unless the other tank is the player character with their stance already on or if the other tank is Carvallain de Gorgagne. His ability to hold aggro is unrivaled, and he will focus his attacks on whatever enemy has the most starting HP. In mobs of three or more, he will use AOE attacks and activate Rampart every time it is off cooldown. He opens most pulls with Intervene followed closely with Circle of Scorn, regardless of the number of mobs.
If there is no immediately available free space to move into to dodge an AOE, he will pop a cooldown and take the attack head on. He will cast Clemency on himself if his health drops below 20%, and on any party members that drop below 25% if his MP is over half. If he is in a party with another person he knows well, he will cast Clemency regardless of his own MP if their health drops below 35%. If the healer drops below 40%, or appears to be in immediate danger, he will activate Cover.
Battle Lines:
“Let’s get started!” - Starting Attack Line “You’re going to have to try harder than that..” - Using Sentinel “My guard is impenetrable!” - If struck while Hallowed Ground is active “If you insist on taking the lead, you’ll be needing this..” - Using Shirk on another tank “Stay behind me! I will shield us from the storm!” - Using Passage of Arms “That looks bad. Allow me to assist.” - Using Clemency on a party member “I can handle this much myself, you needn’t fuss over me.” - Using Clemency on himself
Limit Break:
• “This is a waste.” - Using Limit Break 1 • “If you would stay behind me, this would not be necessary...” - Using Limit Break 2 • “Trouble is coming! Stand back and prepare for impact!” - Using Limit Break 3
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kianraidelcam · 6 years ago
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IT’S HERE. Day 6: “Panicking” for @whumptopia‘s RoboWhump 30 Day Challenge! I originally posted a preview of it which kind of didn’t happen...oops. This idea ran away from me. Full explanation for that in the link! Tomorrow’s prompt is “Temperature Regulator Damage” and I am researching how computers react to the cold. Full fic under the cut for those who prefer it! Reblogs are love!
Connor would later describe it as feeling as if he lost all control.
Red blood. Blue blood. Spilling over, combining into a macabre purple. Playing over and over again in front of his eyes. His fault, his fault, it was all his fault. Breath quickening, eyes searching for a danger that wasn’t there, systems scanning even though he didn’t tell them too. His thirium pump pounding in his chest, elevated past what was considered optimal. It hurt, why did his chest hurt, there was nothing wrong but everything felt wrong. He almost ruined everything and they know, they know it is all his fault and they’re coming.
{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}
{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}
That couldn’t be right. He had what Hank called a gut feeling. He was in danger, danger, danger.
{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}
{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}
{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^80%}
{STASIS RECOMMENDED}
Connor grips his hair, pulling on the synthetic strands, while his chest heaves for air he doesn’t need ( air air where was the air ). A tingling sensation begins to fill his limbs, starting with his fingers before filling his hands, before weighing down his limbs with a static lead. Sumo, he needed Sumo. Hank’s dog always lowered his stress levels and if he could just get the warnings appearing bright red in his visual field to stop, he could find the danger, he could see the danger.
“Sumo,” he rasps into the empty living room, distantly aware that his voice echoes with a mechanical reverb brought upon by his systems working overtime, “Sumo, come.”
He waits for the clacking of nails on the hardwood floor, for the heavy panting from the Saint Bernard to announce his presence. Nothing comes. The only sound that echoes through the empty home is his labored breathing, his fans kicking into overdrive. Connor’s legs give out and he tumbles to the floor in front of the couch.
{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}
{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}
{REVIEW MESSAGE FROM LT. HANK ANDERSON: FRIEND}
{Taking Sumo to the vet. Try not to burn down the house or shoot anything while we’re gone.}
That’s right. Sumo had an appointment at the veterinary clinic today. But that had been at 11:30am and his internal clock told him it was currently 2:47pm. They should have been back by now, what if something happened? There could have been a car accident, an ex-convict with a grudge could have happened across the lieutenant, anti-android activists could have recognized him as the police officer with an android partner. There could have been a robbery gone wrong, Sumo could have tried to cross the street at the wrong time, things could have spiraled out of control like he was now.
{SYSTEMS SCANNING…}
{NO THREATS TO SELF DETECTED}
{THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR UNSTABLE}
{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^90%}
{PROBABILITY OF SELF-DESTRUCTION: HIGH}
{STASIS RECOMMENDED}
Hank could be gone, what if he was gone, Connor wasn’t ready he wasn’t ready. And he can still feel the danger approaching like a freight train, ready to completely destroy him once it hit. Hank, he needs Hank, he needs his friend, his partner, his father.
{CONTACTING LT. HANK ANDERSON}
{CONNECTING…}
{CONNECTING…}
{CONNECTING…}
“Hey, Con. What’s up?”
The Lieutenant’s gruff voice sounds in his head and Connor’s systems immediately offer an analysis on the man’s tone. Calm, not out of breath, low levels of stress. There’s the faint sound of jazz music playing in the background, along with Sumo’s signature panting. Evidence suggests they are in the car, perhaps on the freeway. The relief that courses through his wires is even stronger than the relief he felt upon seeing Hank the day after the revolution.
“Connor, you there,” Connor can’t bring himself to respond, opting to scan the room yet again, “Jesus, can androids even fucking pocket dial?”
He must subconsciously switch his phone call to match his vocal unit because Hank is suddenly speaking, concern seeping into his tone, “Hey, kid? Is that you breathing like that? What’s going on?”
Everything, he wants to say. Something or someone is coming for him, even if he can’t say what. He feels like his needs to deactivate his skin and tear off his plastic chassis because here is static that won’t go away underneath it, bringing him down and rendering him unable to even get up. His memory files are playing back images of blood, both red and blue, that he spilled and it won’t stop. Gunshots echo in his head, almost drowning out Hank’s voice, along with screams sounding off in a rusted ship. Too much , Connor wants to say.
“I-I-I...I can’t,” is what he manages.
There’s a pause, then a curse on the other line before Connor’s auditory unit’s pick up on the sound of the engine revving. “Yes you can. I need you to talk to me, what are your stress levels at?”
{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^90%}
{PROBABILITY OF SELF DESTRUCTION: HIGH}
{STASIS RECOMMENDED}
“Ninety percent…” Connor’s voice is hardly a whisper.
“Where are you? Are you safe?”
Connor’s shaking his head, despite knowing Hank can’t see him, “I-I’m home… I don’t know what’s wrong… they’re coming…”
“Shit...take a deep breath, Connor. Who’s coming,” Hank’s voice is like a tether, promising to secure him back to the ground.
“I don’t know, Hank, I don’t know. I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on with me,” his respiration rate picks up to 60 breaths per minute, “What’s...what’s happening?”
{WARNING: STRESS LEVELS ^95%
{STRESS LEVELS CRITICAL: STASIS RECOMMENDED}
“You’re having a panic attack, Connor. I need you to take deep breaths and focus on my voice, okay?” Hank’s voice is low and steady, with a calming inflection. The part of Connor that is still capable, still logical, offers him the reasons why. Low, even tones helped to calm distressed people, building a sense of security and trust. His systems also offer him a definition for panic attack.
{PANIC ATTACK: A sudden episode of intense fear/anxiety that triggers severe physical reactions despite a lack of danger or apparent cause. Panic Disorder common in adults between the ages of 20-25}
But he wasn’t human. He’s a machine. He wasn’t designed to be capable of having a panic attack.
He must voice these thoughts out loud because Hank is suddenly speaking again in the same, reassuring manner, “You weren’t supposed to feel emotions either, but here we are. It’s alright, the feeling will go away soon. I want you to breathe with me, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Connor hears the exaggerated breathing and makes a few attempts to mimic it. It feels as if his ventilation biocomponents are stuttering, hiccuping their way through his imitation of a breath. He can’t breathe, he doesn’t need to but he can’t fucking breathe where was the air?
{STRESS LEVELS CRITICAL}
{PLEASE SEEK A CALMER ENVIRONMENT}
{STASIS RECOMMENDED}
His snort would be derisive if it didn’t sound so choked. He’s home, it is supposed to be the safest, calmest place he had but he could feel the walls closing in. Threatening him. Trapping him. Suddenly, the open space of the living room leaves him feeling claustrophobic, imprisoned, trapped. He ignores Hank’s questioning and surges to his feet, static forgotten as he sprints to the front door, nearly ripping off the doorknob in his haste to get out, to escape.
It’s pouring outside, Detroit currently in the rainiest April they’ve had since the invention of androids. The rain soaks him in seconds, slicking the hair to his artificial skull and drenching his clothes. It feels nice and cool against his overheating body and he falls to his knees on the lawn. Connor’s fingers grasp at the grass, digging through old leaves and dirt. He’s always liked the rain. The way it washes the earth clean, making the smog of the city disappear for a couple hours. The way the world seems new, painting the soft greens and blues in more vivid colors. The way it smells fresh and how everything feels softer.
Rain is good. It’s nice. It paves the way for new life.
{STASIS RECOMMENDED}
The prompt flashes in his vision like a neon sign. A failsafe against self-destruction Josh designed to assist deviants with their new, stressful lives, it gave them a way out that didn’t involve slamming their heads against whatever hard surface they could find. Once his levels reached 98%, his systems would automatically be forced into stasis, but at anything 80 or above, the prompt would flash until their levels either lowered or they powered down. Powering down, out here in the pattering rain, seemed like a better idea with every drop that touched his skin.
Connor disconnects the call with Lieutenant Anderson, despite the yelling coming from the other line, and he lies on the ground, looking at the gray sky. His limbs were once again replaced by static, terror threatening to wash him away. Images flashed over and over again and he wanted nothing more than the nothingness of stasis. He can feel the failsafe urging him closer and closer to the coding that induced stasis in androids.
Josh should be proud. He did his job and he did it well.
{INITIATING STASIS IN 3}
{2}
{1}
{GOODNIGHT RK800}
{MODEL RK800}
{SERIAL #313 248 317 - 51}
{BIOS 8.7 REVISION 2221}
{REBOOT…}
{STRESS INDUCED STASIS}
{LOADING OS…}
{SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...}
{CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… OK}
{INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS… OK}
{INITIALIZING AI ENGINE… OK}
{MEMORY STATUS… OK}
{ALL SYSTEMS… OK}
{READY}
{STRESS LEVELS 20%}
Connor blinks, his LED switching from the calm blue of stasis to a puzzled yellow as he stares at the ceiling. He didn’t remember changing into dry sweatpants or putting on Hank’s police academy hoodie. He didn’t remember grabbing a blanket and laying down on the tattered, old couch. And he certainly didn’t remember Sumo coming home, even though the old dog was now laying on his chest, breathing heavily on his face. The RK800 looks around the room, brown irises searching until they land on a grizzled, older man sitting on the recliner, eyes intent on the TV screen playing the Detroit Gears game  across from him. “Hank?”
It’s like a bullet goes off in the room from how high the man jumps, beer spilling from the bottle in his hand. “Jesus fucking christ, kid! Warn a guy before you scare the shit out of him next time.”
“Apologies.” Hank sets the now empty bottle on the glass table, still cursing as he wipes his sticky, wet hand on his pants. He looks at Connor with tired eyes, blue eyes nearly glowing in the darkened room. Connor checks his internal clock; 11:32pm. “How long have you been home?”
“I got home ‘bout five minutes after your shiny plastic ass hung up on me. Speaking of which, don’t you,” Hank points a finger at the android for emphasis, “ever do that again. Thought you went and shut down on me.”
If Connor were sitting, he would look down at the floor. As it is, he touches his chin to his chest and stares at the sleeping dog, unable to make eye contact, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
The human heaves a sigh and Connor can hear the sound of skin dragging over stubble, “Don’ apologize, kid. Shouldn’t have said that. You just scared me is all. I came home to find you passed out on the lawn, staring up at the sky. I thought you had self-destructed or some shit.”
“Josh designed a program to induce stasis in case my stress levels ever got too high,” he offers as a way of explanation.
Hank nods, snapping his fingers to get Connor to look at him, “Yeah, that’s what Simon said. Speaking of which, he left some solidified thirium for you. It’s shaped like fucking animal crackers, when the hell did that start happening?”
Connor ignores the question, raising his eyebrows at Hank’s statement, “Simon was here?”
“Yeah, well, I thought something was wrong so I called him over to help. Not as young as I used to be, Con, no way I was going to lift your metal ass back inside. He helped me get you inside and explained what happened after connecting with you.”
He looks away from the Lieutenant, watching the muted game instead. “So,” Hank says.
“So?” Connor questions.
“We gonna talk about what happened?”
Connor sighs, a habit he picked up from the man, “I don’t know what happened. I assume it was an error or malfunction.”
There’s a pause in which the Gears score and Sumo huffs softly in his sleep. Then, a napkin bounces off the android’s head, bringing his attention back to the Lieutenant. Once Hank is sure he has his attention, he speaks, his voice gruffly affectionate, “You know, for a walking supercomputer you sure are a fucking dumbass.”
“Lieutenant?”
“You had a goddamn panic attack. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it happens,” he raises his hand to stop Connor as the RK800 opens his mouth to protest, “I know the symptoms well enough by now to recognize one when I see..hear it.”
A frown finds its way onto Connor’s face, eyebrows furrowing, “It was…” he trails off, unsure.
Hank nods in understanding, “Overwhelming?”
“Yes. It felt like I was in danger, but I couldn’t find the reason why, then my systems went into overdrive.”
“Works the same way in humans, Con. Welcome to living, it fucking sucks,” Hank kicks his recliner back into its original arrangement, putting him into a sitting position, “But we can learn what triggers them in you, and how to make them shorter and less intense. You ain’t fucking doing this alone.”
Connor lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “How?”
“Shit, well...you know I’m bad about talking about my feelings but I ain’ half bad at listening. And I’m guessing it’s going to be trial and error. But we’re gonna see if what works for humans works for androids. Breathing and grounding techniques that I learned might help. Also, Simon told me to let you know he’s invited you to a support group he has going on at New Jericho. A lot of Tracis and military androids are supposed to be going to it.”
His stress levels decrease at Hank’s words and he offers the man a soft, half smile, “Thanks, Hank. I...appreciate it.”
The Lieutenant pats his legs, calling Sumo. The big dog sighs before lumbering off Connor and padding toward his owner’s side. Connor sits up, catching a box Hank tosses at him once he’s fully up. “Here, eat your fucking blood cookies, ya vampire. Here you are, going off on me about what I eat and then you go and stuff your face with blue shit.”
“The difference between thirium and what you eat is that thirium is necessary to my function, and therefore, considered ‘healthy’ for an android. Fast food, filled with grease and sodium, is not.”
“Hey, Con?”
“Yes?”
“Fuck off.”
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rose-gold-romantic · 5 years ago
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Whatever It Takes: Chapter Eleven
A Loki x Reader based in the Tesseract fic universe! Avengers: Infinity War follow-up fic. Next in the Tesseract fic series. Links to Tesseract, Lokasenna, What Heroes Do, and Fidelity. Also to my AU Feel You.
I WOULD LOVE FEEDBACK! Want to be tagged in updates? Let me know!
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@malignentmac @fandomsfanman @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @markusstrayya @sincereleygmg @pandaqua​ @person-born-winchester
Just a forewarning, this one has a major POV shift from the past entries, since Reader was Dusted at the end of Fidelity! Keeping with my recent trend in fic titles, it’s named after a track on the official soundtrack. I also constantly watch this Video, and recommend it to hype you up!
Thor and I sat anxiously awaiting Tony’s return to the meeting room with the new gauntlet. My stomach turned over and over, and I bounced my knee rapidly in an attempt to release the nervous energy. Thor sat next to me, squeezing my shoulder with a knowing look.
“You’ll see her soon, brother.” Thor said softly. “Everything will be over soon.”
Tony and Bruce walked in, carrying the container that the new gauntlet resided in. They set it gingerly on the table, and we all stood around, looking at the marvel of technology.
“All right.” Rocket said. “The glove’s ready. Question is, who’s gonna snap their freaking fingers?”
“I’ll do it.” Thor said.
“Excuse me?” Scott balked.
“It’s ok.” Thor said, stepping forward.
“Wait wait wait, Thor, just wait.” Steve cautioned, holding Thor back. “We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Thor snapped. “What, were you just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?”
“We should at least discuss it.” I cautioned, hoping to calm my still unstable brother down.
“Look, us sitting here and staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back.” Thor argued, “I’m the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It’s my duty.”
“It’s not that…” Tony clarified.
“It’s just…. Stop it! Just let me.” Thor continued, tearing up. “Just let me do it, just let me do something good. Something great.”
“Look… It’s not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I’m telling you that you’re in no condition.” Tony said firmly.
“What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?” Thor asked.
“Cheese Whiz?” Rhodey retorted.
“Lightning.” Thor corrected.
“Yea.” Tony agreed sarcastically.
“Lightning won’t help you, pal.” Bruce said, stepping forward somberly. “It’s gotta be me. You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive.”
“How do we know that you will?” Steve asked.
“We don’t.” Bruce conceded. “But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like…. I was made for this.”
“Good to go, yeah?” Tony confirmed.
“Let’s do it.” Bruce agreed.
“You remember… everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago and just bringing them back to now, to today.” Tony stressed, “Don’t change anything from the last five years.”
“Got it.” Bruce said.
Everyone braced themselves as Bruce stepped up to the gauntlet. Thor shielded Rocket, and Tony activated his armor to shield himself and Barton.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol.” Tony said as he engaged his helmet.
“Yes boss.” the AI responded, beginning to close off the room with solid metal panels all around.
“Everybody comes home.” Bruce murmured, before placing his hand into the gauntlet.
The second that the gauntlet was on, the power of the stones surged up Bruce’s arm. He cried out in pain, sinking to his knees as the gauntlet continued to emit its energy.
“Take it off.” Thor shouted, “Take it off!”
“No, wait.” Steve shouted in return. “Bruce, are you okay?”
“Talk to me, Banner.” Tony added.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Bruce reassured, still groaning and fighting the intense pain coursing through his body.
He continued to fight to raise his arm, straining to get his fingers into position. With one final effort, Banner managed to snap his fingers, and he collapsed to the ground. The gauntlet slid from his arm, and Clint immediately kicked it away from him.
“Bruce!” Steve called out, hoping to wake him.
“Don’t move him.” Tony cautioned, spraying Banner’s damaged arm with medical spray as Bruce began to wake.
“Did it work?” Bruce asked.
“Worth a shot.” Thor said, “It’s over. It’s okay.”
The panels removed themselves, opening up the room to natural light again. Scott walked towards some outside windows, seeing several birds flying around.
Clint’s phone began to ring, his wife’s face lighting up the screen as it buzzed.
“Honey.” Clint said, struggling to speak when he answered the phone. “Honey.”
“Guys… I think it worked!” Scott said, grinning from ear to ear.
Without warning, every hair in my body stood on end, and I dove to protect as many as I could with a shield. A single missile blew into the Compound, destroying the room we had been in. A continuous array of missiles continued to rain down, destroying the base completely and decimating the surrounding terrain.
I lost consciousness for a moment, coming do with debris surrounding me on all sides. Thor was rousing himself as well. We were surrounded by rubble, and some smaller pieces covered us. Groaning, I stood with Thor’s assistance, my back aching in protest.
“Mayday, mayday!” Rhodey’s voice called out through the coms, “Does anybody copy? We’re in a lower level, it’s flooding!”
“What?” Scott’s voice responded, “Wait, I’m here! Can you hear me?”
With Scott assisting them, Thor walked to find a way out of the rubble. I walked, trying to find anyone else that might have survived closeby. I did find Tony, though he was not buried by anything and was actually seeking Steve. I assisted in his search, finding his shield first.
“Come on buddy.” Tony said from around a corner, causing me to follow and notice Steve on the ground. “Wake up. That’s my man.” Tony took the shield from me, passing it to Steve. “You lose this again, I’m keeping it.”
“What happened?” Steve asked.
“You mess with time, it tends to mess back.” Tony answered. “You’ll see.”
Tony and I helped Steve to his feet, and then walked to where Thor stood, looking over the destroyed grounds to where a single figure sat among the rubble. Thanos.
“What’s he been doing?” Tony asked.
“Absolutely nothing.” Thor answered, staring at the Titan.
“Where are the stones?” Steve asked.
“Somewhere under all of this.” Tony answered. “All I know is he doesn’t have them.”
“So we keep it that way.” Tony said.
“You know it’s a trap, right?” I asked.
“Yea.” Tony said. “And I don’t much care.”
“Good.” Thor said, his eyes beginning to glow. “Just as long as we are all in agreement.” Lightning crackled in the overcast sky, and he summoned both Stormbreaker and 2013’s Mjolnir to his hands. “Let’s kill him properly this time.”
I nodded, my armor shimmering into existence, and my knives appearing in my hands. We walked slowly down to where Thanos sat, and he made no motions to move as we approached and began to surround him.
“You could not live with your own failure. And where did that bring you? Back to me.” Thanos mused. “I thought by eliminating half of life, the other half would thrive. But you’ve shown me that’s impossible. And as long as there are those that remember what was, there will always be those that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.”
“Yep.” Tony quipped, “We’re all kinds of stubborn.”
“I'm thankful. Because now, I know what I must do.” Thanos stood, putting his helmet on and grabbing his double-bladed sword. “I will shred this universe down to its last atom.And then...With the stones you've collected for me, create a new one. Teeming with life, but knows not what it has lost but only what it has been given. A grateful universe.”
“Born out of blood.” Steve said.
“They’ll never know it.” Thanos countered, “Because you won’t be alive to tell them.”
Thanos moved in, swinging his sword at Thor, who blocked the strike easily with Stormbreaker. The three friends moved as a well-oiled machine, bouncing their attacks off of and through one another to make them more efficient. Thor and I fought as we had in days long past, not needing so much as a word between us to know what to do next.
Arms radiated from the back of Tony’s armor. “Okay, Thor. Hit me.” he instructed, aiming his repulsors at Thanos.
Thor used the combined power of Stormbreaker, Mjolnir, and his own innate power to summon lighting straight into the arms of Tony’s suit, allowing Tony to blast Thanos with a super-concentrated beam of pure energy. Thanos managed to deflect the blow, coming close enough to throw Tony across the clearing, knocking him out briefly.
Steve, Thor and I continued to battle the Titan, our attacks becoming more and more quickly overwhelmed. Thor and I were thrown in opposite directions, and I was winded as I landed heavily on a large piece of concrete. I fought to stand as Thanos pressed Stormbreaker towards Thor’s chest, trying as hard as I could to save my brother. Mjolnir flew across the sky, hitting Thanos in the head and saving Thor for a moment. The hammer soared back across the clearing, directly into Steve’s hand as he stood mere feet from me.
“I knew it!” Thor cackled with joy, as Steve began to use the hammer in combination with his own shield to begin pounding Thanos.
I staggered as I tried to stand, Tony and Thor still laying defenseless as Steve held his own. Thanos had managed to gain an upper hand, knocking Mjolnir out of Steve’s grip. As Thanos destroyed Steve’s shield with his double-bladed sword, Thanos threw Steve across the battlefield, isolating him.
Steve shakily tried to stand, Mjolnir far from his mind as he stared down the Titan.
“ In all my years of conquest...violence...slaughter... It was never personal.” Thanos said, approaching Steve slowly.  “But I'll tell you now... what I'm about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet... I'm gonna enjoy it. Very, very much.”
As Thanos spoke, his ship beamed down all of the Black Order, the Chitauri, and others that Thanos had recruited to his side. Steve slowly stood up, his face set with a fierce determination. He tightened his broken shield to his arm, and braced to stand against Thanos’ army alone. He looked to me, then Mjolnir, then nodded slowly.
I stood in front of my brother, helping him to his feet as best I could. Thor called Mjolnir to himself, and then tossed it towards me. As a reflex, I attempted to catch it and prevent it from falling, knowing that I would simply be dragged to the ground, as always.
Except I wasn’t.
I stood, awestruck and frozen in disbelief as Mjolnir rested in my hand, its weight more than easy to manage.
“You’re worthy, little brother.” Thor smiled, gripping my shoulder as I stood in complete bewilderment and awe of the weapon I held in my hand. “I’m proud of you.”
My heart seemed as though it would burst, the support of my brother and the idea of worthiness more than I could process. Despite all of the wrongs I had done, all of the pain I had caused, I was still worthy? Tears welled in my eyes, and I gripped the handle tighter.
“Cap, you hear me?” came a crackling voice through the coms, it’s connection faint, but growing.
“Cap, it’s Sam.” he said, “Can you hear me?”
A yellow portal appeared behind Steve as Thor and I ran to him, joined by Tony.
“On your left.” Sam said, and the flare of sunlight pouring from the portal was interrupted by three figures.
Okoye walked from the portal, alongside the Black Panther and Shuri, fully restored and ready to fight. T’Challa nodded slowly at Cap, and Sam soared in from above in his Falcon armor. As Falcon flew above our heads, dozens more portals opened up all around the battlefield, from all sorts of planets and places.
Doctor Strange descended from one of them, followed by the rest of the Guardians crew that had been dusted five years prior. More and more people began to arrive from all corners of the universe, some backed up with forces of their own. As the Wakandan army begins to pour through the portal, my eyes rest on the one person I had been thinking of for five years.
(Y/N) was back. Her hands glowed with the magic she had learned while in Asgard, and her face was set in a fierce look of determination that set something alive inside of me. My heart raced as I tried to think of a way to safely reach her, to speak with her for the first time in too long. I was brought back to the reality of the present by Steve’s yelling.
“AVENGERS!” He bellowed, re-invigorated by the sight of all of his allies. He reached out for Mjolnir, which I gladly released.
“Assemble.”
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War of Attrition: Chapter 23
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. Tony learns the truth. Bucky gets taken to Berlin. Steve and Tony fight. Your and Bucky’s future hangs in the balance. Warnings: Swearing (always), blood, violence, mentions of murder/death Word Count: ~4,637 A/N:  
Masterlist // Book One // Book Two
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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He stared at you for a long time, to the point that it was almost uncomfortable, before he nodded. “Alright, fine. I’ll see what I can do. There’ll be a lo-”
“Tony.” The sound of his name made him pause, fingertip halfway to his Starkpad, eyebrow raised in question. “There’s one more thing you should know about me and Bucky.”
You didn’t try to block the hit. You saw it coming a mile away, but it wasn’t like you didn’t deserve it.
The was a surprising amount of force behind it, but you reminded yourself that Tony spent most of his time in a workshop. Working with heavy machinery all day lent to more muscle than one would expect from a genius billionaire playboy.
Your head whipped to the side with the force of the blow and you’d barely turned your head to look back at him before the next blow came, his fist sending your head swiveling the other direction. 
He was probably being trained by someone- Steve, maybe Tasha?- because his knee came up with surprising swiftness and you felt the air rush out of your lungs. 
The blows didn’t stop and, predictably, the elbow came next, crashing into your face with a strength that probably would have concussed a normal person. As it was, you let the force of the blow topple you to the floor of the plane.
Tony was on you instantly, eyes wild and shining with unshed tears as he rained blows upon you; everywhere from your face to your stomach.
“You killed them!” he screeched, fury and grief twisting his face into something you almost didn’t recognize. “Give me my suit, FRIDAY!” he called to the AI, tone deadly.
“I’m afraid I can’t let that happen at the moment, Master Stark,” Alfred said quietly. He’d been told not to let Tony have any suits, but you’d told him not to interfere otherwise. This was a long time coming and you’d take whatever Stark would dole out without complaint.
Tony swore loudly and landed a few more haymakers on your face. One of them nearly disconnected the optic wires that connected your cybernetic eye, but the visual feed only shuddered dangerously before resuming normal function. You knew, however, that your eye would probably swell shut from the blow.
“FRIDAY, override the AI. Now,” he barked.
“I tried, boss, but they have control of those systems right now,” the female-voiced AI said.
Tony cussed again and hopped off of you, but you made no move to get up. Your body ached distantly; it wasn’t the worst damage you’d suffered (not by a long shot) but your body still protested at the slightest movement.
He picked up the twisted hunk of metal that was his pistol and gripped it in his fist as he stalked back over.
“Help my wife... please... help...”
The video was playing on repeat in the background, Howard Stark’s dying plea filling the cabin, nearly drowned out by the sound of the hunk of metal being used as a blunt weapon against your face and body. You were fairly sure you felt your nose break and bit your tongue to choke back the scream of pain.
“(Y/N)...?”
Tears leaked out of your eyes and slid down the sides of your face and into your hair, but you were too broken to know if they’re from the pain of the beating Tony was giving you or the pain of reliving that moment again.
“He recognized you and you still killed him! You killed your friend!” Tony yelled, red in the face now. Apparently the gun wasn’t satisfying enough because he returned to using his fists. Each time he hit you his knuckles came away bloodier, but you knew at least some of it was his. You could feel cuts and bruises on every inch of your face, but Tony wasn’t done yet.
“Howard! How-”
Maria Stark’s voice acted like a match to a powder keg and Tony rose. You didn’t dare to hope it was over and you were rewarded for your wariness because a second later Tony was stomping down on your left leg, right at the junction between metal and flesh.
You did scream then, the fake nerves on fire as your flesh ground against the metal plates. Even without having to look you knew it was bleeding at the seam of the metal.
“I bet you made it quick, didn’t you? But not too quick, no. You had to make it look like an accident. First you had to run their car off the road. Then you had to make it look like they’d died in the impact, so you crushed my father’s head while your maggot of a husband choked the life out of my mom? Because bullets would have given it away. So you had to get up close and personal and do it. Isn’t that right?” he spat, as he stomped on your fingers and dug his heel into the meat of your hand, giving special focus to the area where the metal met skin.
You let yourself feel the pain. If you dissociated you’d become the Asset and Tony would be dead before he could blink. 
So you screamed as the wiring in your hands was pulled and tugged out of their places, blood and nerves left exposed.
“Say something, you piece of shit!” he yelled as the video started over. You could hear the crash of the car hitting the tree.
You blinked up at him, though it was getting hard as blood had started leaking into your eyes. He was taking in great heaving breaths and he had more than one spot of blood on his suit. 
And you remained silent, because what could you possibly say to this man? What could you ever do to make it right? There was nothing.
He growled when you said nothing and was on top of you again in a flash, hunk of warped gun in his hand. He brought it above his head, raised and ready to strike a blow you knew would split your skull in two, enhancements or no, and closed your eyes.
“Be sure of what you’re about to do, Anthony Edward Stark, because there’s no going back. For either of us.” It was hard to talk with a split lip and your face was already starting to well. It also didn’t help that your head was ringing from the blows, making it even harder to think.
I’m so sorry.
You felt him tense above you and you waited for the blow to come.
It felt like hours, though you knew it was only seconds. However, it was much longer than you’d been expecting.
You cracked open a single eye- the only one you could open right then- and looked up at Tony.
He was frozen, staring at you with such hatred that you nearly recoiled. His dark brown eyes met yours and that broke the spell.
He dropped the useless hunk of gun to the ground, taking you completely by surprise. His fingertips tapped away at his watch and you watched as it transformed into a small Iron Man gauntlet. You barely had time to think about how you should have noticed it before he was pointing it at you.
A huge blast of concussive energy hit you point blank and the world faded to black.
Steve’s POV
They flew them from Bucharest to Berlin. He, Sam, and T’Challa were under heavy guard the entire time, their suits, his shield, Sam’s wings and weapons all confiscated.
The guard they had Bucky under paled in comparison. They’d put him in a sort of reinforced glass cage, but Steve never managed to glimpse his friend behind all of the guards and vehicles, only the reinforced container that no human being had any right being kept in.
“So you like cats?”
Steve glanced behind himself at this friend, face serious. “Sam,” he chastised. This wasn’t the time to be provoking T’Challa.
“What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don’t wanna know more?” Sam asked. From Steve’s spot in the van he could just barely see part of T’Challa’s face, but the warrior-king didn’t turn around to look at them. For all the reaction he showed, Sam might not have even spoken.
Sam had a point, at least, and Steve frowned at the back of T’Challa’s head. “Your suit. It’s Vibranium?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t accusatory.
That, at least, got a reaction out of T’Challa, slight though it was. He turned his head enough to be able to see Steve out of his peripheral vision, expression neutral but unnaturally so, hiding the anger underneath. “The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle passed from warrior to warrior.” As he spoke his gaze returned to the front of the van. “And now because your friends murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.” Steve recognized the loss in his voice- it was one he knew all too well. “So, I ask you... as both warrior and king-” he turned his head enough to stare at Steve, challenge and anger radiating off of him in waves despite his calm posture, “-how long do you think you can keep your friends safe from me?”
Steve felt himself glaring at the threat so, instead of acting rashly, he turned his glower on the headrest of the driver’s seat and bit out, “You’ve got the wrong people.”
T’Challa didn’t answer that, but Steve could practically feel his dismissal in the man’s posture.
The rest of the very short ride was suffered in silence. Steve watched through the metal grating that covered windows as the long line of military vehicles and cop cars turned into a large building. It was separated into two halves on either side of the river, connected by a sky bridge.
The road tilted downward and the surroundings vanished as the van drove into the underground part of the complex. The tunnel was longer than Steve expected, but eventually the walls opened again to reveal a large, bunker-like room.
By the time they let Steve, Sam, and T’Challa out of the van Bucky had already been unloaded from the huge armored van. He was looking around at the guards as they checked the cage in a sort of resigned way.
The MP standing between him and Bucky’s cage gestured to someone behind Steve so he turned and was surprised to see Sharon standing next to a short man in a grey suit that had an air of self importance that immediately grated on Steve’s nerves. Steve hoped his face remained impassive; Sharon was supposed to be guarding (Y/N), not helping wrangle the situation in Berlin. She barely glanced at him, the only outward sign of nervousness the way she shifted from foot to foot.
“What’s gonna happen to him?” Steve asked the two of them, all business as he stalked towards them, T’Challa and Sam close behind.
“Same thing that oughta happen to you,” the man in the suit said with a smarmy smile. “Psychological evaluation and extradition.” He looked pleased as hell and Steve wanted to punch him in the face.
Sharon seemed to sense this and quickly spoke up. “This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander.” Steve didn’t miss the way she couldn’t seem to make eye contact with him.
“What about their lawyer?”
If anything, Ross’ smile became even more smug. “Lawyer. That’s funny.” Sharon glanced at Ross, frown on her face, but said nothing. “See that their weapons are placed in lockup,” he said, head tilting towards the MPs escorting the three of them. “Oh, we’ll write you a receipt,” he said, all false geniality.
“I better not look out the window and see anyone flying around in that,” Sam said testily. Ross, however, paid him no mind and was already walking deeper into the building with Steve, T’Challa, and Sam following warily behind. Steve threw one last look over his shoulder, just in time to see reinforced concrete doors shut with Bucky behind them. The defeated look on his face made Steve feel like there was a hot knife twisting in his gut.
He’d failed you.
They made it all of five feet before Ross paused and pulled his phone out of his pocket (Steve had no idea how the man had cell service down here). Whoever was talking to him on the other end of the line gave him something to smile about and Steve felt a little bit of dread curl in the pit of his stomach. Steve had decided within five seconds of meeting the man that whatever made him smile was something to be concerned about.
He turns a triumphant smile on Steve and holds his arms out grandly. “I hope you enjoyed your brief stint, Captain. We’re going to have a nice long conversation about why you tried to stop my men from apprehending Barnes, but the good guys come out on top in the end. Stark’s on his way and he’s bringing something that’ll make my year,” Ross said, hands clasped together as though praying to some deity for making his life.
Neither he, Sam, nor T’Challa took the obvious bait, but Sharon- thanks to her job- had to ask, “What’s the situation, sir?”
Ross turned a megawatt smile on her. “We have the matching set! I honestly thought she’d go to ground after we caught her accomplice, but Stark’s bringing the illustrious Misses Barnes with him. His helicopter’s due to land in a few minutes!” he said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Both Winter Soldiers in one day! Pinch me, I’m dreaming!” he gushed as he turned away again and practically strutted towards the doors.
Steve’s eyes were wide, looking between Sharon and Ross in horror. She looked as confused as he did, but hastily turned and trailed after her boss.
The MPs shoved him forward and Steve’s brain kicked back into gear, feet quickly eating up the gap that had grown between him and Ross. He could hear Sam trying to keep up and knew, even though he couldn’t hear him, T’Challa was close behind.
The guards kept Steve from getting too close to Ross and Sharon was just as clueless as he was, so it was a bit of relief when the elevator doors opened and Natasha stepped out and immediately made a beeline for him, expression severe.
“For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” she said as she went to stand beside him. 
Steve didn’t look at her, just watched as Ross and Sharon disappeared into one of the elevators while they waited for the next one. “He’s alive.” He glanced at her, then, and saw that she was glancing around warily. “What Ross said about Tony having (Y/N). Is that true?”
He could see her green eyes flick up to him and then away again. “We’ll see in a few minutes. Stark is landing any second now.”
The elevator ride to the operations room was awkward at best. Sam, Steve, and Natasha all crammed into one elevator with guards while T’Challa rode in a different one.
When the doors finally opened Steve was met with a hive of activity and a plethora of screens monitoring just about everything in the building, including where Bucky was being held. 
A set of doors on the other end of room opened and Tony marched through, looking thunderous.
Ross, however, didn’t seem to notice. “There’s the Iron Man of the hour! We’ve already sent teams up to secure the fugitive. I’m assuming she’s being contained by one of your inventions, so-”
Tony glared at him. “Actually she’s just unconscious. Have at ‘er,” he said bitterly. In all the years he’d known Tony, Steve had only heard him talk like that once or twice, all regarding painful things. For someone who had apparently apprehended one of the most dangerous assassins in the world, he seemed surprisingly... fine? Physically, at least.
So when Tony looked around the room, spotted Steve through the glass of the meeting room, and glared, Steve felt his hackles rise. He left Ross gaping as he cut a warpath through the room, directly to Steve.
Natasha put a hand on his shoulder to slow him down, but he brushed it aside and placed a hand to the center of Steve’s chest, pushing him backwards until he hit the wall.
The entire room around them froze, everyone carefully assessing what was happening.
“Did you know?” Tony hissed between clenched teeth, dark brown eyes searching.
Steve was floored. The only other time Tony had acted like this towards him was when they were all being influenced by Loki’s scepter. “What are you talkin-” he began, but Tony’s face twisted with anger.
“Did you know they killed my parents?” he yelled. If Steve wasn’t enhanced, the fingers on his chest would have been painful. Now that Steve really looked, he could tell Tony was on the verge of crying.
The world fell out from under Steve’s feet for a moment. Sure, he’d had his suspicions. After spending so much time researching and looking for the Winter Soldiers, he probably knew more about them than just about anyone else (not even counting what he knew about them before they were brainwashed and enhanced). He thought they might be responsible, but to tell Tony that without proof? Bring up that pain again when he couldn’t be sure? What was the point?
“I didn’t know it was them,” Steve answered, heart clenching painfully.
Tony grabbed him by the shirt and tugged him forward, eyes going a bit manic. “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers,” he hissed venomously. “Did. You. Know?”
Steve stared at Tony- his friend- searchingly. There was no point in softening the blow, was there? No sense in lying, not about something so important. He clenched his jaw, mouth set in a tight line. “Yes.”
Tony reeled as if he’d been struck and took a step back, Steve’s shirt falling from his grasp. Steve watched him, wary, as Stark turned half away from him, chest heaving. When he glanced down it took him a second to realize what he was seeing.
Tony’s knuckles had been reduced to a bloody mess.
It all clicked into place. “Tony, what did you-”
Steve saw the hit coming but he was too stunned by the sudden turn of events to find the wherewithal to block or dodge it.
Tony’s bloody fist connected with the side of Steve’s head, though Steve had a feeling Tony had taken more damage than he did. Blood that wasn’t his own coated his jaw and Steve stared at Tony, shocked. Natasha and Sam were between them in an instant because Tony looked like he wanted to go after Steve again.
“She had a recording of it, you know! Of them killing my parents! I got to watch her bash my dad’s skull in and hear the gasps from my mom as he squeezed the life out of her!” Tony seethed, eyes wild and dangerous.
Steve’s hand drifted up of its own accord and swiped at the blood. “It wasn’t them, Tony. Hydra had control of their minds.”
Tony barely blinked. “I don’t care. They killed my mom.”
Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Tony wasn’t thinking straight right now, not that Steve could blame him. Trying to get him to see- to understand- would be nigh impossible right now.
“Tony!” It was Natasha who spoke up, voice clear and demanding enough that he finally looked away from Steve, though the wild, hunted look in his eyes didn’t go away. “I know you’re hurting right now, but it’s done. They’ve been captured. What happens to them next isn’t up to us. Any of us,” she said, looking between Steve and Tony pointedly at that last sentence. The hint of sadness in her voice might have slipped under the radar for the others, but Steve recognized it for what it was.
Tony’s hand remained clenched at this sides and he looked carefully from Steve, to Natasha, and to all the gawking onlookers before he turned and stalked away before sitting down almost violently at one of the free chairs in the room.
Despite what people thought, Steve knew when to leave well enough alone. This was a fight for another day, when Tony had some time to process what had happened.
A flurry of activity at the other end of the room caught his attention and, when his enhanced vision let him see the the feed from the cameras on the roof, he found himself walking forward, needing to get a closer look.
He ignored the protests of the people at their stations and stared, horrified, as a team wheeled you out on a gurney, oxygen mask over your mouth and nose. Your face was so swollen and bloody that Steve could hardly recognize you. In fact, if it wasn’t for the metal legs and golden wiring, he wouldn’t have been able to.
A medical team- surrounded by heavily armed guards- was swarming around you as they led you into the building. Steve could see the heavy metal restraints tying your legs in place. Imposing but decidedly less powerful restraints held your arms in place. He could see Natasha walk up beside him out of the corner of his eye, but his eyes were riveted to the screen in front of him.
“Who did this?” Steve asked, as calmly and evenly as he could manage. Even before Hydra got a hold of her and Bucky (Y/N) was a force to be reckoned with. That she’d been subdued- even by Tony or a large group of elite soldiers- was practically laughable. Well, no. Tony could do it but- “Don’t answer that. I already know,” Steve said, turning slowly to stare at Tony who had his back to the two of them.
Natasha glanced between them, eyes lingering on the screen that was following your progress through the halls of the compound. “You don’t know what happened, Steve.”
Steve turned an unimpressed stare on her as Sam walked up and whistled lowly at the screen, looking away when he got a particularly high res image of the damage. “She’s beat black and blue and the only damage he has is on his knuckles? Want to explain to me how that one happened, Nat?” he snarled.
Sam nodded, though he looked less than thrilled by this news. “Don’t get wounds like that in an Iron Man suit and something tells me he’d have more than a few scrapes on his knuckles if she was fighting him for real.”
Natasha’s mouth was set in a hard line, but even she couldn’t deny that. Knowing he was right, Steve looked over her head at Ross, who was talking to people on a radio. “You’re going to stabilize her and treat her wounds, right?” he asked, tone leaving little room for arguments.
Ross, however, was nearly foolish in his righteousness. “Can’t get information from her if she’s dead,” was all the answer he gave before he turned back to the monitors.
It was a yes, backhanded as it was, and a tiny weight was taken off his shoulders. They wouldn’t let you die because they needed you. He could work with that for now.
“This way,” Natasha said quietly, jerking her head ever so slightly in the direction of the glass box of a conference room in the center of the operations center. Steve gave Ross and the monitors one last glance before he followed her, Sam following closely. Tony glared at them as they passed, but Steve couldn’t look at him right then. He was too angry.
The doors slid closed silently behind Sam and they took a seat the table. To Steve’s surprise Sharon came in hot on their heels, face unreadable. “She’s being taken to medical under heavy guard. Her injuries aren’t life-threatening. It was a sonic blast that knocked her unconscious, not the head trauma. We’re trying to get a scan but it’s difficult with all of the tech in her head. We think nothing’s broken, but they can’t be sure without more information.”
Steve leaned back in his seat and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He saw Natasha do the same, though more subtly. “Does Bucky know? That she’s here?”
Sharon frowned slightly and turned away to watch the screens; one of (Y/N) in the medical wing, the other of Bucky in his pod. From the looks of it, they’d sent someone in to talk to him. She shook her head. “Ross wants to keep him as calm as possible for the time being. Chances are that once she’s been stabilized and had some time to heal she’ll be used as leverage to get information from him. A lot of what they do and where they’ve been is a mystery, but one thing always seems to hold true; they’re always together.”
Steve tried to hold back a glower and probably failed. “Because they’re still in there. They still love each other.”
Sharon’s gaze slid from the monitors to Steve, but Steve looked away, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes. “They were also partners for years, Steve. If our data’s correct they went on hundreds of missions together. That could easily be the reason why they stay together. Either way, it seems like the best way to coerce them into talking.”
Steve sighed and buried his face in his hands, taking a second to collect his thoughts. “She seemed convinced that someone was out there pulling the strings- something we didn’t see. What if she was right?”
Natasha frowned and leaned forward slightly. “What are you talking about, Steve?”
Steve spotted the photo- the one of “Bucky” next to the news van- on the desk and picked it up, showing it to the other three. “Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?”
Sharon shrugged, gesturing halfheartedly with her hand. “Get the word out? Involve as many eyes as we can?” she suggested with a little shake of her head.
Steve nodded. “Right. That’s a good way to flush a guy out of hiding.”
“Set of a bomb, get your picture taken,” Natasha said quietly, green eyes calculating as she watched Steve closely.
“Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldiers,” Steve added.
Sharon nodded, eyes downcast as she thought about it. “You’re saying someone framed them to find them.”
Sam shook his head, fingers laced together on the table in front of him. “Steve, we looked for them for two years and found nothing.”
“We didn’t bomb the UN,” Steve countered.
Natasha nodded minutely. “That turns a lot of heads.”
Sharon was staring at the ground, hand on her hip as she thought about it. “Yeah but that doesn’t guarantee that whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would.”
There was a pause in which the words sunk in, then the four of them looked up at the screen showing Bucky’s cell, eyes widening in understanding.
“Yeah,” Steve said gravely as he stared at the image of the psychologist’s back.
As if on cue, the lights in the room flickered and died and the emergency lights turned on, bathing the room in a red glow. Sam perked up immediately but Natasha was out of her seat in an instant, looking at the people around her.
Steve turned in a slow circle before his gaze finally fell on Sharon.
She took one look at him and steeled herself. “Sub-level five, East Wing.”
Sam, Steve, and Natasha were headed for the door before she’d even finished talking.
Next Chapter
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agentmothmanstrikesagain · 5 years ago
Text
Search and.. rescue???
Dib spent his time on the trip home being a nervous wreck. He knew Zim was gone, or had at least left for an indeterminable amount of time. He felt his guts twist into a knot as he pulled into the atmosphere of earth. Zim was probably home, waiting to chew him out. 
Dib sighed. He had it coming didn’t he? Though whole time, he’d thought of how angry he’d be. He thought about it when he talked to Midge, got in Takship, rode out into the depths of space, boarded the Vindicator 2.0, asked Nebula to retreive Stellar, when he talked to Addie and gave her The Song of Liberty, when he tore apart the gavel, when he spoke to Dek and Zim, when he re-boarded The Vindicator and sicked Nebula on Harmonia, and he was still thinking about it.
He knew Zim would be furious with him. Knew he’d have plenty of things to say. Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything... maybe he’d just leave for good without a single word. And that was the thought that made Dib’s blood run colder than Lazuroth’s icy winds. He couldn’t bear such a thought... he was shaking even now just to think of it. 
It didn’t help when Takship landed in the hangar of the base to see the Voot Cruiser missing. A big clean spot was left on the floor in the middle of all the collected dust, from where it took off. He was still gone...
 Dib only felt sicker by the moment.
Takship was silent as he and Nebula exited. She took off without a word. All the better honestly, Dib didn’t feel like hearing anyone make any sort of comment about the current predicament he’d landed himself in. 
He got in the elevator, Nebula following close behind. 
“Computer?” He asked quietly, whispered almost. “Take.. me to the living room please.” The AI complied without a word.
Dib’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of his home, the state that his living room was in. The Animals had gone feral and torn the place apart. The furniture was in shreds, Twoey’s vines were spread all over looking like a damn jungle, THORse had shit all over the floor and was now attempting to consume the couch or at least naw on it, the raven flock was all over the place, as was their waste, and the screaming gerbils had spread throughout the walls and were now making obnoxiously loud mating calls to one another, and Beast was making the kitchen sink her litter box and prey-bone depositary. 
Even Nebula seemed shocked about their current situation. 
“HEY. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” Dib shouted at the top of his lungs. 
Every living thing within the base turned their heads toward him, silent and still. 
“Computer!” Dib barked. “What the hell is all this about?” 
“Well what were you expecting to happen when you leave a bunch of animals without food, water, and attention for 24+ hours?” 
Dib opened his mouth to make a retort until a violently sickening thought hit him like a wave. Zipper always feeds the animals in the morning. She gets up before anyone else does and meticulously cares for each individual and even talks to them like people. Even Audrey 2. 
“Wait... you mean Zipper is gone???” Dib asked, feeling his guts begin to twist with worry. Even if she’d have left she’d never forget about any of these creatures. Not ever.
“Confirmed.” The Computer chimed in its ever annoying Jimmy Neutron voice. “The child has not been home for 31 hours 22 minutes and 16 seconds.” 
“What?!” Dib felt himself starting to shake. “Ok, alright, ok, m-maybe she’s just at The Team Nebula base.. or out in the woods with Nightmare.. or maybe with Gaz, or fuck even Nn- I mean Dad. I don’t need to panic... yet... right?”
“Can confirm that the child was in a state of emotional distress upon leaving.” The computer chimed, completely unhelpful to Dib’s ever growing paranoia and parental worry. 
Dib hissed under his breath before an idea clicked into his head. He grabbed the clicker from his pocket and raced up to Zipper’s room, grabbing a piece of clothing from off the floor and a spare tracker off one of her unfinished robots. He attacheted the tracker to Nebula, fitting it behind one of his tucked in frills. 
He presented the article of clothing to the hulking lizard and before Dib could even press the clicker he was flicking his tongue across it, bringing the kid’s scent in. That! That was family! Nebula knew this person! Yes! Good! Very small! Always nice! Young! Little! Like Hatchling! 
Dib took Nebula’s face in his hands and looked him in the eyes. 
“Find her!” He commanded, a hint of emotional desperation leaking into his tone of voice.
Nebula roared, causing the other creatures in the household to stir nervously. Nebula charged out of the door as it opened, racing out into broad daylight infront of tons of people, as he began searching for Zipper by scent. 
Dib took the tracker pad and raced outside into the still pouring rain, looking to search all the places Nebula might not go.
Maybe she’s fine. Maybe she’s perfectly ok, and she’s safe somewhere and I’m just panicking all for nothing. But deep down he new something was very very wrong.
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