#caught in a storm

[hookaroo]

Laden of the Torn (19 of 25)

AO3 link Catch up on tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Tagging @priscilla9993 @cocohook38 @killian-whump <3

Killian was not feeling lightheaded. Absolutely not. Everything was just fine, thank you very much, and he certainly hadn’t almost lost his footing just a moment ago on a leg that was simultaneously stiff and unsteady, alternately skewered by intense heat or disturbingly muted sensation from toes to knee joint. No, there was no need to stop and rest; he could continue on like this for ages. He was a pirate in his prime, not a single thing ailing him, with all the strength and stamina of a well-rested athletic champion.

If only he could convince himself of the falsehoods he was silently reciting.

He paused to catch his breath, hunched slightly, but mindful of the priceless cargo nestled upon his shoulder. Deliberately avoiding catching sight of his haphazardly bandaged hand--the thumb and forefinger felt icy cold at this point despite the intense throbbing from the wounds above--he squinted at the natural rock spires lining the horizon.

“Look up ahead, little one. Do you see those two angled peaks, like rapiers crossed in battle? I believe I recall seeing them as I left your home. That means we��re nearly there.”

Puzzle only curled tighter against his neck, trembling. Did she know what a rapier was? Could she even understand anything he was saying to her? Wishing desperately that he had some food to give her, or at least a little water, Killian used his sleeve to wipe sweat from his face. Pity he'd been forced to leave the damned map in Lack’s one-handed clutches… this place was such a maze, with so many trails to the impassable, that if he were wrong about his landmark, he could wander until he wasted away and no one would ever know what became of him. Still could, even with the correct landmark in sight, if he were unable to reach it. To say nothing of the venom likely making its inexorable journey throughout his circulatory system, wreaking havoc everywhere it touched…

But he said none of this aloud. Instead, he nudged his cheek gently against the tiny, frightened creature he carried, and whispered the one truth he knew above all others:

“Your papa is going to be so happy to see you.”

***

The pleasant air grew heavy, humidity settled in the zig-zags between rock walls, and only the most oblivious fool would have missed the signs of a brewing storm. An uneasy Killian had no choice but to continue onward, no shelter to be found. The First Clan would not be living in their cave if this area were prone to flash flooding, he reasoned. So that, at least, was a hazard he could probably disregard.

The sky darkened in a matter of moments, a chilly breeze hastening the transition. The gaps between towering razor stones served to channel the wind to a stronger fury, and Killian could feel Puzzle’s trembling intensify. As the first fat raindrops began to fall, he made one more quick survey of his surroundings; he’d really hoped to miraculously find himself back at the First encampment before the storm hit. But no such luck, and the clouds weren’t even giving him the courtesy of a lovely shower before the torrential downpour.

Soaked almost immediately, Killian headed for the nearest patch of semi-flat ground and stiffly lowered himself down for a rest. He could at least try to keep Puzzle somewhat warm, if not dry. The ever-present serrations dug into his hips and back, and he scowled. Why any creature would choose to make this inhospitable landscape home would always be a mystery to him.

A grumble of thunder echoed the sentiment. The baby monkey on his shoulder gave a single squeak of fright before attempting to burrow beneath the sodden collar of his shirt. Too quickly, Killian reached up to try and soothe her, only for searing pain at the base of his thumb to remind him of the bite wounds restricting mobility in his hand. Reflexive cursing caught in his throat, but wouldn’t have mattered anyway as another rumble vibrated the rocks around them.

Gingerly, wincing with every twitch of his thumb, Killian wrestled a few more buttons loose on his shirt. The fabric could not have been any wetter, but it had to be marginally warmer there against the skin of his abdomen, and it would shelter Puzzle from the biting wind blowing past at regular intervals. Killian rested his left arm across his lap to act as a cushion for her, then reached up with an aching hand to stroke her saturated fur.

“Don’t be frightened, love,” he murmured as tenderly as he knew how. She stirred, craving the reassuring touch, but hesitant to leave her self-made shelter. “You’re safe, and the storm will pass.”

He carefully peeled the shirt back from his chest and shoulder, making a visible tunnel from collar down to arm-cushion. And Puzzle could not resist the prospect of a dark, secure hideaway. In a heartbeat, she had disappeared into the tunnel and curled up in the crook of Killian’s elbow, wet fur tickling his ribs, and he couldn't prevent the small, charmed smile that crossed his face. He settled himself more comfortably against the stone and suppressed a shiver as a particularly strong gust of wind blew the rain sideways against his face. He could feel Puzzle’s heartbeat speed up in response to a thunderclap directly above their heads, and he rested his hand near the trembling lump inside his shirt, using one finger to stroke soothingly despite the burn the movements caused.

He couldn't sing.

If it were Alice, he would be singing her favorite songs with her, wrapping her tightly in his arms, and neither one of them would notice a single thing about the storm. But here, he was cold, wet, and uncomfortable, his love trapped far away, and even if he managed to start a verse, he knew he’d never be able to finish.

This small innocent, though… she’d just lost her mother, and was missing her father in the way it destroyed him to think that Alice was missing him, and if someone could be with her and provide her just a little comfort, he would give anything to ensure they did as much as they were able. And so, for Favor’s sake, and Puzzle’s, and the hypothetical reciprocity he’d just envisioned, Killian began to hum softly. None of her favorites, nothing that would conjure a breath-stealing, throat-clogging memory, just an old melody without particular meaning. Puzzle may not even be able to hear much above the driving rain, but she would feel the vibrations and the intentions behind it and perhaps draw some reassurance.

Killian closed his eyes, sheets of water cascading down every inch of exposed skin, washing away mud and sweat and crusted blood. He shivered and hummed and tried not to dwell on the words he’d withheld from little Puzzle. Because he was no longer certain they were true.

“The storm will pass,” he would have told Alice. “They always do.”

***

This literal storm did pass, of course, long after Puzzle’s trembling had ceased and her regular breaths told Killian she’d been able to settle into the untroubled sleep of the very young. He himself had not been so fortunate, and as the downpour became a drizzle and the winds ceased, all of his pains were magnified until he was sorely tempted to stretch out and give up right there.

But then the tiny life at his side fidgeted, a quiet yawn and miniature sneeze awakening protective instincts, and he just couldn’t bring himself to fail her so completely. He groaned softly, shifted positions with a wince, and gathered his strength to continue.

There were puddles now, collected in hollows and crevices, and with his bandages washed clean, maybe he could even scoop up a mouthful of water that wouldn’t taste so much like blood.

“What do you think, princess? Time to prove to Blackbeard that I’m not entirely as useless as he imagines?”

A timid, bedraggled head peered out over the “V” in his low neckline. Killian smiled.

“All right, then. Let’s get you home.”

[whumpshots]

Whump Snippet Saturday #12

"You gotta stay strong, whumpee," caretaker calls over the wind as they carry them further and further through the snow on their back. The storm surprised them, neither of them was prepared for this weather.

But with whumpee's injury, it's even harder to make their way back to their base. Caretaker was barely able to stop the bleeding, now they can't even see what's before them.

"Leave me," whumpee mumbles with that little strength they have left. "At least you have to get out of here."

Caretaker grits their teeth. "The fuck I'm gonna leave you out here. Save your strength, whumpee. I'm gonna get us out of here."

[whumpetywhump]

Handsome Siblings - Ep. 33

[littleperilstories]

The Prince of Thieves: The Light in the Storm

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Aftermath of physical fight, blood, blood loss, stab wound, stitches, caught in a snowstorm, mention of attempted sexual assault

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Word count: 3350 || Approx reading time: 13 mins

The Light in the Storm

Teaser: Colette slid to a stop on the slick, snowy ground, drawing a sharp gasp. “Look.” Jamie followed her pointed finger just in time to see a figure, moving slowly and wreathed in shadow, stumble and slump to the ground.

Jamie

2 years ago

Will wasn’t back yet, and that was cause for concern. Not that it was so unusual for him to lose track of time and come home later than expected—no, Jamie was accustomed to that. The problem was that a snowstorm was raging outside, and his little brother was somewhere out there, in the thick of it.

Colette was pretending to pore over a map under the guise of choosing the next drop location, but her gaze kept skipping over to her cracked pocketwatch. It was tarnished and old but still perfectly functional, which was unfortunate, because the hour it displayed meant that Will should have been back more than an hour ago.

Geoffrey was on the floor, and when Jamie looked over at his hulking form, he saw with surprise that Geoff was already wearing his boots. When had that happened?

Solemnly, Geoff raised his brows. Well? Are we going to look for him, or what?

“Yes,” Jamie said, getting to his feet even though Geoff hadn’t said a word. “I’m going out there.”

Bracing himself for an admonishment from Colette, who would certainly have an opinion on the prospect of going out into the snow—and she’d be right, too, not that it would stop him—he paused, fingers pressed into the table.

“All right.” She folded the city map and tucked it into an old, leather-bound book, which she promptly returned to its place on the mostly-bare shelf by the wall. “Let’s go, then.”

Jamie blinked. “You’re not gonna fight me on this?”

Irritation tugged her lips into a frown. “The only person I’m going to fight is Fox, for making me go out there in that mess.”

Her tone was light, but her eyes shone with concern. Will was foolish sometimes, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to get into trouble on a night like this. Was he?

By the door, Geoff handed Jamie a green scarf, already wearing a brown one over his faded black coat, littered with neatly sewn patches. Jamie smiled tightly in thanks and allowed  their fingers to clasp beneath the green wool for a moment. The gentle touch calmed, at least somewhat, the frantic pounding of his heart.

“I’m sure we’ll find him.” As always, Geoff chose his words carefully.

“Mmm hmm.” And he better fucking be alive when we do.

The weather was just as horrible as Jamie expected—wind whipping snow into their faces, cutting right through the well-worn wool of their coats and tangling Colette’s skirts around her legs within seconds.

“Shoulda changed into trousers,” Geoff said, watching her fumble with the material blowing uncooperatively in the snow.

“Too late for that now,” she snapped, freeing her legs and marching forward with grim determination on her face. “I’ll be fine.”

Geoff pointed down the main road. “You go with her that way,” he said. “I’ll take the backstreets.”

Although Geoff was more than capable of taking care of himself in the seedier corners of the city, Jamie hesitated. “You sure?”

“Wolf.”

Despite the ice shards digging into his eyes—despite the thorn in his side known as Will Wardrew—Jamie smiled, and while Colette had her back turned, he grabbed Geoff’s hand and pulled him close. “Thank you.”

Kisses in the driving snow were not nearly as pleasant as kisses in warmer, cozier scenes, but Jamie found he couldn’t regret it too sorely as Geoff’s warm lips pressed against his.

“Stay safe,” he said when they pulled apart, and with a nod, Geoff disappeared into the storm.

Colette didn’t ask questions about where Geoff had disappeared to, or about why Jamie stuck to her side when it would have been easier to find Will by splitting up and covering more ground. Anyone could have been looming in the darkness up ahead. With the snowflakes falling so thickly, neither of them would have been the wiser.

“What do you think happened?” Colette asked when a lull in the howling wind made it easier for them to talk. “You think he’s hurt, or lost, or just an idiot?”

“I don’t know.” Jamie chewed on his lip. It was hard to tell when it came to Will. “Could be any one.”

“All he had to do was pick up the goods,” she muttered.

Jamie sighed. His brother had been taking on more responsibility lately, had been more or less begging for it. The thought of Will going on solo jobs made Jamie exceedingly nervous, but they’d agreed that there were some things he could do to take some pressure off Colette and Geoff.

Lifting loot from drop points: hard to fuck up as long as he was careful.

Now, Jamie wanted to scream at the naïve past version of himself who’d capitulated to his brother’s pleading. Will wasn’t known for being careful, ever.

Now, his brother was somewhere out on these godforsaken snow-covered streets, and nobody knew where he was, and it was bloody cold, and what if he’d mouthed off to a constable or someone important or slipped on some ice and hit his head or—

“Wolf.”

Colette was gazing knowingly at him from beneath her heavy winter hood “Calm down.”

He forced himself to slow his frantic breaths. “What if he’s hurt? Bad?”

“Then we’ll fix him up, and I’ll be kind enough to wait until he’s feeling better before I knock him out again for being a fool.”

Jamie forced out a laugh and pushed his hands deeper into his coat pockets. It was just as likely as not that Colette meant her threat seriously. He told himself Will probably deserved whatever she was planning to dish out to him. He’d just been caught up in some childish tomfoolery, right? That’s why he hadn’t yet returned. Annoying, but nothing to fret about.

The urge to call out Will’s name was fierce, but Jamie didn’t dare. It was unlikely that the constables were out in this weather…but what if they were? The evening was already unlucky enough; no need to tempt fate.

One street, then another. As they neared the town square, Jamie peered into the face of every passerby, few though they were, in case one of them was his idiot brother. None of them were.

Colette slid to a stop on the slick, snowy ground, drawing a sharp gasp. “Look.” Jamie followed her pointed finger just in time to see a figure, moving slowly and wreathed in shadow, stumble and slump to the ground.

Fuck.

Colette was already moving, her hem dragging in the snow as she skidded to the person’s side. Numb with cold and with dread, Jamie followed.

“You idiot.”

He’d never been so relieved to hear those words from Colette’s lips.

“What the hell did you do?” Colette knelt next to the crumpled form that could only be Will, her hands on his face, then reaching into her pockets, then grasping his hands tightly.

“You’re—How—You—” She glared at him. “Did you get into a fight?”

Jamie, too, knelt in the snow, bitter cold seeping into his knees as he looked into the bruised and bloodied face of his brother. “What the fuck happened to you?” Why, why? Why was Will like this?

He pretended not to notice the warning look Colette was shooting at him. He bit back a reminder that she’d used the same tone only moments before.

“You should see the other guy,” Will muttered.

“That doesn’t answer the question.” Tightness spread through Jamie’s chest, and for a moment, he couldn’t remember how to breathe. Will, the only family he had left, bleeding in the snow for—for how long?

“Can you get up?” Gently, Colette tried to pull Will upwards, and though he nodded, the movement only resulted in a strangled cry of pain. “What? Where does it hurt?”

When Will said nothing, Colette tugged open the front of his coat to reveal that his shirt was soaked with blood. “W—Fox!”

Oh, god. The world spun. “What is that?”

“I don’t think it’s deep,” Will said, but his eyelids fluttered slightly, and his voice was weak. “I was doing all right for a while. And I got the drop.”

It was all Jamie could do not to bury his face in his hands. “Who stabbed you? How—how? What did you do?”

“Wolf.” Colette was glaring at him now.

“Don’t you realize you could have died out here?”

“Jamie!”

She didn’t shout, didn’t raise her voice at all. But her eyes sparked, and the sound of his real name made Jamie clamp his mouth closed.

“It might not be deep,” she said, turning back to Will, “but it’s bleeding a lot, and we still need to get you back. So keep your wits about you and hold this against the cut to staunch the blood. All right?”

“Staunch?”

“Stop the bleeding.” Colette pressed her scarf into his hands, positioning them so he was holding it over the wound  in his side. “We’ll go back home, and we’ll take a look and get you all fixed up, all right?”

It was hard to believe she was the same girl who’d been vowing to knock him out only half an hour before.

“All right.” With a grimace, Will let her take his arm again. Numbly, Jamie leaned down to take the other one, and he and Colette pulled Will to his feet, his arms draped over each of their shoulders.

Colette’s voice was calm but stern. “I swear to god, Fox, if you pass out—”

“Not gonna pass out. Promise.”

A fine promise, but the words were slightly slurred. Jamie hoped it was from pain and not because his brother was dying, gutted on the street like a common criminal. Even if that was what he was—what they all were—it wasn’t how he deserved to die.

It was slow going: ice pelting their skin with renewed fervour, wind making their eyes water. When Geoff—a man so tall it should have been impossible for him to sneak up on anyone—appeared like a phantom out of the billowing snow, Jamie jumped.

“Looks like you’ve had an interesting night, Fox.” Geoff nudged Colette out of the way and took her place.

“You got no idea.”

Jamie gritted his teeth, even though walking with his brother’s dragging weight was easier now. “You better be ready to tell us what happened once you’re patched up.”

“I didn’t start shit with anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jamie set his jaw. “I didn’t say you did.”

“Didn’t have to.”

Colette narrowed her eyes. “Both of you. Stop being morons.” Her gaze slid to Jamie. “I’m going to try and run ahead of you. Get some water boiling. That all right?”

“Be careful.” Jamie glanced down at the treacherous, icy street. “Don’t slip.”

“I won’t.” She disappeared, leaving Jamie to keep half-carrying his brother, who grew heavier and more limp with every step.

Jamie had seen his brother deal with a lot of stupid injuries. Will had always been the kind of child who got into trouble, and especially when he was very young, did not know how to get himself out of it. How often had Jamie been the one to wipe blood from a scrape on his knee, press a handkerchief to a bloody nose, or lay a damp cloth over a burn? How many times had he shaken his head and held back stern admonishments? Winced and blinked back tears when no one was looking because his little brother was in pain?

None of those memories hurt Jamie as much as the sound Will made when Colette and Geoff tended to the gash in his side.

Jamie sat in the other room, shooed out by Colette, who told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t welcome unless his emotions were in order, which they were not. She closed the door in his face.

He’d gotten the drop, Will had said. Jamie paced around the room, not sure if he wanted to cry into a pillow or scream into the storm raging outside. Will had said it like the money was the important thing and not his own goddamn fucking life.

When the door finally opened again, Jamie tore through the door. Will was stretched across the table, his breathing shallow. Though his skin was pale and his eyes closed, Jamie could tell his brother was awake; this tense muscles gave that away. The blood had been washed away from his face, revealing a cut on his upper lip and swelling around his nose and eyes.

“He’s fine,” Colette promised, standing next to him, her voice soft. “Geoff cleaned it and stitched it up. It was deeper than he thought. Probably hurt like a bitch. But really, he’ll be all right.”

Jamie let his eyes wander to the fresh bandage wrapped around Will’s abdomen. “Thank you. Both of you.”

Will opened his eyes at the sound of Jamie’s approach. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jamie swallowed. “Glad you’re gonna live.”

With a snort of laughter that quickly became a groan of pain, Will said, “Me too.”

Dragging over the wooden chair the other two had shoved out of the way, Jamie took a seat. “You should have come straight back. Not gone for the drop.”

“How…” Will struggled to sit up. Jamie laid a hand on his chest, pushing him back down as gingerly as he could. “How d’you know I didn’t get the drop before I got stabbed?”

“Did you?”

A sheepish, pained smile crossed Will’s face. He never could tell a lie. “No.”

Jamie bit down on his tongue, trying to keep calm. “You wanna tell us now or tomorrow?”

“Tell you what?”

Geoff was silently cleaning up the bloody bandages and cloths that had been soiled while he and Colette stitched up Will’s wound. His dark eyes flicked between Will and Jamie, then migrated to Colette. The bastard was almost smiling.

“Will.” Not nearly as amused as Geoff, Jamie kept his voice low. “Stop being a prick. We were goddamn worried when you didn’t come back.”

Scowling now, Will said, “I didn’t just walk into that asshole’s knife on purpose, you know.”

“Well, then, wanna tell us why you have a hole in your gut? Why did Geoff have to get his hands all bloody to stitch you up? Why were we wandering around in a fucking snowstorm to come and find you?”

Jamie’s hands were shaking. They’d found him in the nick of time, exactly at the moment he collapsed into the snow. What if they hadn’t been there? What if they’d waited a little longer to go searching for him? What if they had walked down another street by chance, or turned back too soon?

Before he could cry, before Will could even respond, Jamie stood up and walked out again.

If not for the weather, he would have walked right out of the house. The storm, however, refused to relent, and so he stood by the window, digging his nails into his arms as a distraction from the tears he desperately needed to shed, until Geoff appeared beside him.

“Breathe, Wolf. Breathe.”

God, he wished Geoff would call him by his name. He was the only one who never slipped up. Jamie had not heard his name from Geoff’s lips since IA was born, and out of everyone in the entire world, that’s who he wanted to hear it from the most.

“I’m breathing.”

Geoff pried his fingernails from his arm, laying a warm hand over the marks left behind. “With me. In. Out.”

A few minutes passed before either of them spoke again. “What if he had died out there?” Jamie whispered.

“He didn’t.”

“But he could have.”

“But he didn’t.”

You don’t understand, Jamie wanted to shout. Will was his younger brother, his responsibility, the last tie he had to their parents and the life they’d had before. If Will was gone…

“Better be a good story.” Colette’s voice drifted from the kitchen. “Sure caused a ruckus around here.”

Will’s weak laugh followed. “I swear it is.”

“Pray, do tell.”

“Huh?”

Colette half-sighed, half-chuckled. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

The gentle request was met with silence, broken only by Colette’s footsteps and Will’s pained breathing.

“Fox? You going to tell me, or what?”

A new pause dragged between them, but this time, Will was the one to break it. “There was a girl.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, and Geoff’s shoulders jumped upwards in silent laughter.

“Oh, come on.” Colette’s voice, too, dripped with undisguised amusement. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” The solemnity of Will’s voice surprised Jamie. “It’s not… I’m not�� She was in trouble. I heard her scream.”

The air of amusement faded. Will was an annoying bastard, but he wasn’t one to make up tall tales.

Colette’s tone grew heavy. “What kind of trouble?” The graveness of her voice, the thinly veiled anger, made Jamie flinch. She knew what kind of trouble.

“Some fucker who saw a girl alone in an alley and decided to…” Will grunted and coughed. “What was I supposed to do? He was on top of her when I got there, and—and she kicked him off, but he grabbed her again, and…”

Jamie let his arm fall away from Geoff’s tender grasp and made his way back toward the kitchen.

“So that’s who you got into a fight with,” said Colette quietly, glancing up when Jamie paused in the doorway. “What happened to the girl?”

“She was all right, I think. Or—you know. He didn't—” Will sighed heavily. “He didn’t do anything. She…”

His words faded, and his gaze turned distant. Jamie’s heart skipped a beat. “Will? You still with us?”

“Hmm?” Will blinked. “Yeah. Just…nothing.” He shook his head. “She was bleeding on her head a little, but she was all right. I told her to go and she did.”

Colette laid a hand on Will’s arm. “That was pretty brave, you know.” After a pause, she added, “And stupid.”

“I’m quite a hero, aren’t I?”

“Ugh.” Colette rolled her eyes. “I think you need some proper rest. You going to sleep right here on the table?”

“I’d rather not, but if that’s what Doc thinks is best...”

Geoff shook his head. “It’s not.”

Jamie stepped forward, Geoff following close behind him. “You ready, then?”

“Not at all.” But Will flashed him a smile. “But…not much choice, right?”

“No.”

And despite everything, Will laughed, even when he was on his feet and swaying.

Once he was lying on his cot, wincing as he tried to find a comfortable position, Jamie sat on the floor next to the bed, guilt heavy in his stomach. “I’m sorry. For before. I was just worried.”

“I know.”

Not bothering with subtlety at all, Colette tugged Geoff from the room.

“I’m sorry too.” Will’s eyes were drifting closed. “For worrying you. For causing trouble. Again. Like always.”

Jamie cringed. “No, I—Listen. I don’t… You’re not trouble, all right? You’re my brother.”

Sleepiness blurred the edges of every word as Will spoke. “Don’t lie to a man who was just at death’s door, James Elliott Wardrew.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jamie wasn’t sure which was more ridiculous—Will mumbling his full name like a chiding mother or the overly dramatic claim that he’d been on the verge of death. “I’d run through any fucking snowstorm to find you. I’d do anything. All right?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Jamie kept his eyes on Will’s face, on the ruddy brown hair that was still flecked with blood in places, so stark against the yellowed pillowcase. “Good night, Fox.”

“Night, Wolf.”

Jamie remained on the floor by Will’s cot until his brother’s breathing turned even and calm in sleep. Until Colette slipped away to bed, until Geoff gave up on waiting for him and did the same. Until the sun broke through the morning and shone over an ivory-coloured city unstained by the bitterness and bloodshed of the night before, now buried by fresh, glistening snow.

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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]

[stevevanderhorst]

Caught in a Storm

[jinxquickfoot]

🌹:)

Thank you! Another extract from an upcoming @whumptober fic, "The One Where Rhodey is Steve's Weakness", for the prompts Sleeping in Shifts/Tossing and Turning/Caught in a Storm:

“Rhodes?” He throws himself out of bed, only to get tangled in the blanket. It tears under him as he rips it away, scooping up the shield from the side of the bed and sprinting for the kitchen where he had left Rhodey. “Rhodes!”

He bursts through the door, only to freeze in his tracks. Rhodey’s restrained between two men in what look like high-tech snowsuits. One gloved hand is wrapped around his mouth, while his other captor holds a gun flush against his temple.

Steve tightens his grip on the shield. “Let him go.”

[oc-menagerie-archived]

@zanpakt (Stuck in a storm continue without ask box)

The sudden storm that struck left Himori shook in surprise and herself a bit wet. She was lucky she had been on a walk with her captain, who noticed the change quicker than herself and pulled her inside. She shivered some, finding a spot to try to squeeze the water out of her hair and clothes.

She gazed upon him for a moment in confusion then found her cheeks warm, causing her to glance away. She was stuck here for the time being? Pink hues turned to the window and her jaw dropped as rain poured like a waterfall outside.

Yep, she was stuck here. At least it was somewhere comfortable for the most part.

"Thank you Captain for the hospitality. I didn't expect this storm to come like this. It had been clear skies beforehand." She looked for a place to sit and sat herself on a cushion at a table, mulling over how the others who might have been caught outside were doing.

[mirrorred-star]

Whumpuary Day 9

Made it!

The problem with my wrist hurting seems to mostly be about using the mouse a lot and playing games involving a lot of clicking, so I need to be careful about that.

ETA: I should be okay for tomorrow - I'm about halfway done with the next fic, but I'm not sure how I'll go after that. Might sub in an alt prompt for day 12 - the couple of days after should be not too hard but because I've run out of buffer I can't really predict anything for sure except that I'm going to run out of ability to keep up.

prompt: caught in a storm

fandom: Immortals | Tamora Pierce

wordcount: 878 [most of the other fics are in the 200-300 word range]

warnings: attempted murder, injury, poisoning, real bad pacing, crimes against botany

the heck is happening: Daine can talk to animals, but she's only recently figured out that its a real thing and that she's not developing a new exciting mental illness thanks to Numair, who knows that the talking to animals things is a slightly less exciting form of magic - Numair is like the most powerful magic-user in the kingdom 

Daine woke in the middle of the night with a hand clasped over her mouth. The rain poured harder, tapping against the glass, and thunder boomed, much closer than was comfortable.

She struggled against her assailant, but the blankets trapped her arms.

Lightning flashed, illuminating her captor, and the bright knife that he was about to plunge into her chest.

The door between rooms, which was meant to have been locked, opened, and there was a bright flash of grey light. Daine's assailant fell, letting her go.

"Is he dead?" Daine asked, looked at the dark shape on the floor where her captor lay.

"No," Numair said, clutching his side, "But perhaps I should have."

She looked up at him. "You're hurt."

He was leaning against the doorframe. His skin was starting to take on a grey pallor.

"You need to take us to the wolves."

She shook her head. "No. They're too far, and you need a healer. The horses won't be able to handle the ground well with the rain and will spook with the thunder."

"We don't have a healer. We need to go somewhere else, before they miss their assassin and go looking for them. You grew up in this geographical region - you know what medicinal plants grow in this region and where to look for them." One of his knees gave way under him, and he grabbed the door jam for support. "The town healer is working for the lord of the manor, the lord tried to kill me this evening at dinner, we need to leave."

"Where's Kit?" Daine asked, finally. It had been too long. The baby dragon should have tried to stop the assassin, or at least woken up by now.

"Taken. They used magic dampening on everything in my room, which was why I didn't realise they were there until..." he grimaced in pain. "We need to leave. Kitten will be able to take care of herself."

*

They had to leave the horses. Daine packed for both of them and saddled her pony Cloud and helped Numair up. Cloud normally wouldn't be happy having Numair as a rider, but after Daine told him what was happening.

Daine led him into the forest towards the closest entrance to the cave system that ran all the way throughout the valley, calling for one of the wolves to wake up. Luckily Brokefang, the leader of the pack, was awake but the pack was too far away to be of help soon - it would take at least two hours for one of them to get to their destination.

She asked him to come, or send someone, anyway, and she felt him acquiesce.

Daine got them to the cave and out of the rain. She helped Numair down from Cloud's back, and his knees instantly buckled and Daine had to push him against the cave wall to stop him from falling.

She checked his wound. She had thought it would have been very deep but it didn't look too bad at all.

But he was clearly doing worse. He was breathing heavily and not quite able to keep himself sitting upright against the cave wall.

He'd been poisoned.

And she was almost certain what it was. There was a mushroom in the valley, the pinkcap, that looked almost identical to flybane mushroom, except the pinkcap was poinsonous enough to kill a man within hours. There were stories that stewing pinkcaps in boiling water would produce a poison that, when an arrowhead was dipped in it, could take down a bear.

The poison could be counteracted with a mixture of the flower of a shineleaf, the stem of a spotroot, and the water from an amphora plant.

Brokefang, she called out with her mind. If you see any of this plant - she showed him an image of the bright-leafed plant with white flowers - can you bring it here? I need some, and it doesn't grow in this part of the valley.

Brokefang agreed.

"Cloud, I'm going out. Let me know if he gets worse."

There was spotroot almost at the entrance to the cave. She left it - it would still be there on her way back. Amphora plant was tricker - they grow where little else can, usually amongst the roots of big trees that used all the nutrients in soil around them.

She got lucky - she found an amphora plant not a minute away, in a part of the forest so thick with oaks that the rain didn't touch the ground. When she took it back to the cave, Brokefang met her there with the shineleaf, the flowers still mostly intact. Daine broke some stems off the spotroot and took them into the cave with her.

Into a bowl she poured the juice from the inside of the amphora plant, and put the broken spotroot stems and the flowers, and crushed everything together until it make a thick liquid, and then, carefully pulled the knife out and put the paste over the wound.

She watched him carefully over the next few minutes, and his skin started looking less grey and  his breathing became slower and deeper.

"Better?" she asked him.

"Yes. Still not great, but much better."

 [for the record - I'm sorry about devolving into a quest to obtain 20 bear asses, and crimes against biological science - an amphora plant is a pitcher plant. I don't think plant stomach acid would be in any way helpful for depoisoning someone. It was like 2am pleeeease forgive meeeeeee]

[risky-witchy]

Thinking about the new episode of cr and about Dorian and Orym but I’ve seen a lot of people making jokes about Dorian’s dad seeing everyone intrusive themselves and is like ‘wtf is that my son’ and so true so valid but consider.

You are the father of the Wyvernwinds, a family who essentially serves as royalty in their culture. Several years ago your youngest left, likely against your wishes, and just a short period of time ago your oldest dies, and now all of the worlds leaders are gathering to develop a plan to deal with a potential Calamity level event. You spot someone who looks similar to your only living son. He is then a part of the group of, frankly, hooligans who are fucked in the head brave and are gonna be the main task force against this event and summons your goddamn wyvern dragon horse, while wearing the sluttiest outfit you’ve ever seen, as well as a sending stone that matches with the halfling who approached you after who very clearly is fond of your son. Not to mention he doesn’t go by his birth name and title but is wearing gold to symbolize the death of his older brother. What would you do then

[astranauticus]

medpoc:

[undead-knick-knack]

Tho I am hoping it's Braius who catches Dorian on his walk of shame, this could also be really funny 😂

[jimmysea]

No more loneliness, little Day.

LAST TWILIGHT SERIES (2023)

[idonothavewings]

orym hitting us with “do you ever miss your mortality? its pretty great, living a lifetime” while turning to catch dorian’s eye and smile at him like hinting that he’s the reason that living is greaT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[imagine-you]

Caught In the Middle [Logan/Reader/Wade] (1/7)

Summary: A tragic mistake from your past has literally haunted you for years. You've jumped from place to place in a bid to outrun your ghosts before finally stumbling across the X-Men. You're convinced you'll never love again until the Merc with the Mouth falls right into your life and you find yourself falling for him. When you're pruned by the TVA and end up on a cross-universe trip together to save your universe, you have to come face to face with some hard truths and learn how to forgive yourself before you can move on. You're in no way prepared for what you face and you sure as hell never thought you would find yourself falling in love with one idiot, let alone two. You feel more than a little caught in the middle between Wade and Logan, and while two idiots never really made a right before, you start to realize that there just might be a way for all of you to achieve a happy ending together. Pairings: Wade/Reader, Logan/Reader, Logan/Wade, Logan/Reader/Wade, past!Johnny Storm/Reader Word Count: 8.2k Author's Note: This will eventually involve some Wade/Logan, because I just want the triangle to be equal. The chemistry is undeniable and I can't really help myself. But this is very much about all three finding their own happiness together.

Read on AO3

"You're such a fucking dick, do you know that?" You quickly tugged on your shirt, ignoring Johnny’s lingering look. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t follow me into the bathroom anymore. That’s the only bit of privacy I get. You can’t just go wandering in when I’m in the shower.” 

"Hey, babe," Johnny started, raising his hands in surrender. "I never even agreed to that. So what if I like to sneak a peek now and then? Give me something to enjoy in my afterlife. Besides, what’re you gonna do about it? No door’s gonna keep me out. I’ll just walk right through it.” 

“Such a dick,” you muttered, glaring at him. 

“But you love me anyway. You know you do," he teased, shrugging his shoulders.  

You rolled your eyes, flopping down on your bed before staring up at the ceiling. "Sometimes, I wish I had never met you," you grumbled, not meaning the words at all.  

Johnny made a thoughtful noise, looking out the window. "You don't mean that," Johnny challenged with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Admit it, you miss my hot ass," he claimed, winking at you.  

You snorted, resisting the urge to throw your pillow at him. It would only phase right through him and then you would be out a pillow, because you were in no mood to get off your bed.  

"So, another day of staring at the ceiling, wishing your life was different? God, if I knew dying would turn you into this, I would've--," he stopped talking, shooting you an apologetic look.  

"You would've what?" You probed, wondering where the hell he could have gone with that sentence. Both of you knew the only reason he was dead was because of you.  

Johnny shrugged his shoulders, playing dumb. "Nothing." 

You scoffed, before rolling your eyes. You turned away from him, not wanting him to see that you were trying to fight the urge to cry. "Maybe you should be the one wishing you never met me." 

"No," Johnny denied, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. He brought a hand up, like he wanted to reach out for you, before he remembered he couldn't make contact. He would just pass right through you. "Don't do this again, okay? I love you. I always have. But there's a conversation we've been avoiding here and whether you like it or not, we're going to have to have it one of these days." When you clenched your jaw, refusing to look at him, he sighed in exasperation. "We were just dumb kids who didn't know our own strengths. You've got to stop blaming yourself because I never thought it was your fault." 

You still avoided Johnny's gaze, knowing there was nothing he could really do about it, and hating yourself even more for the thought. Johnny might not blame you, but it didn't make it any easier to let go of the guilt that had plagued you since his death. It had been years of Johnny following you around, only tethered because of your power, and you were scared that one day you would look up and realize he was no longer with you.  

"Ah, c'mon, babe," Johnny coaxed before he was interrupted by a knock on the door.  

You rolled off your bed, glad for the distraction, before moving towards the door. You opened it to see Piotr standing there waiting for you.  

"We are about to leave for Wade's birthday party," Piotr informed you. "Will you be joining us? I know you received the invitation Peter sent you." 

You liked hanging out with Piotr and you liked hanging out with Wade. You even liked living in the X-Mansion, even though privacy was something you sorely missed.  But the thought of so many people around you while all you wanted was to crawl into a hole and hide forever wasn't something you really felt up to doing. "Nah," you answered, shaking your head. "I think I'll just hang back. Tell Wade I said happy birthday, yeah?" 

Piotr frowned, but didn't try to argue with you. "I will bring you back a piece of cake," he decided before walking away, leaving you to shut the door.  

You turned back towards your bed, ignoring Johnny's irritated huff of breath. You dropped back down onto your bed, resuming your evening plans to stare at the ceiling and forget you existed.  

"Oh my God," Johnny groaned, moving to lie down beside you. "Can you quit being emo for two seconds and just live your life already? At least ask him out, for fuck's sake." 

"Who? Piotr?" You asked, knowing exactly who Johnny was referring to, but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making it easy on him.  

"Stop being an idiot," he admonished, swatting at you, his fingers passing right through your arm. "It's really not you." 

You rolled your eyes, turning on your side to face him. "Wade's still hung up on Vanessa. Also, it's none of your fucking business." 

Johnny turned until your noses were nearly touching. A chill swept through you and you shivered. Johnny glanced down at the blanket, as if he wished he could pull it up over you. "You're still hung up on me, otherwise I wouldn't be here," he pointed out with a quirked eyebrow. That sounded dangerously like the conversation you had been avoiding for years and you shrunk back from him, worried about the direction he was going. Johnny sighed, exasperated, and continued talking. "And yet you've got feelings for the red dumbass. Point is, you can fall for more than one person. You can love more than one person. It’s not the end of the world. He probably wants to bone you too so you should just, you know, bone each other." 

"Oh my God," you moaned, horrified, before managing to wriggle yourself under your blanket. You pulled it up to hide your face, flinching when Johnny moved closer so he could peek through the threads and right into your eyes. "I don't have the best track record, alright? I'm oh for one on keeping the guys I fall for alive." 

Johnny shook his head, narrowing his eyes at you. "That fuckin' moron can't die and you know it. Stop being a coward and just get some already. How many times do I have to tell you before you start getting it that it's not your fault that I'm dead?" 

"I couldn't save you, Johnny. It was my power, mine, that fucked everything up. If it wasn't for me, if I wasn't there that night, you'd still be alive." You reached out for him, your fingers dipping right into his chest. "You'd be able to feel me and I'd be able to feel you. Now, you're stuck with me and I can only use you for your power, because I'm a selfish piece of shit." That wasn't quite true, because Johnny was a special case where your power for raising the dead was concerned, but you were on a self-deprecating roll, and you couldn't stop now. 

Johnny didn't say anything for a moment, simply watching you. You remembered a time when getting Johnny to shut up was a minor miracle, but in the years since his death, he'd grown more contemplative and less likely to run his mouth. Although, there were still times when he really let loose, knowing you were the only audience for his rants. He was also perceptive as hell and you knew he was reading everything you didn't want him to just from your expression.  

"Without me," you finished, pushing the blanket back down and turning onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. "The Fantastic Four wouldn't be the Fantastic Three." That was a bridge you had well and truly burned, understandably so given what happened the night that Johnny died. Johnny might not blame you for what happened to him, but Sue sure as hell did.  

"Sometimes, you're a real asshole, you know that?" Johnny muttered, getting off your bed to retreat to his chair near the window.  

"Don't I know it," you sighed, melancholy sweeping over you faster than you could try to push it away.  

You had wandered for a few years after Johnny's death. You had been halfway through your degree, but you dropped out to take odd jobs where people cared less about your name and past and more about if you could wait a table or scrub dishes. You refused to use your powers, shelving yourself in the 'villain' category everyone was so quick to bestow on you upon learning what you could do. It only took two months before Johnny showed up, leaning against the counter at a diner in the middle of nowhere Nebraska and asking you what the hell you thought you were doing.  

You had always known that necromancy was an ability you possessed, but it had never been so personal for you before. You could raise dead superheroes and take their powers for a spin, but none of them had ever followed you. None of them had ever haunted you.  

 Not until Johnny.  

Your other 'gift' was one you could easily go the rest of your life without unleashing again. It was the one that had been used on Johnny. It was the reason he was dead.  

You jumped from place to place until you ended up caught in the middle of a fight between Mr. Sinister and the X-Men. It wasn't long before they wanted to recruit you and while you were ready to pass on the opportunity, Johnny had convinced you to give it a shot.  

"Just give the whole superhero gig another go around. What's the worst that could happen?"

One anti-hero in a skintight red and black suit was what happened. Wade had quite literally dropped into your life while he was tracking down some guy named Francis and had quickly adopted you into his makeshift family. Your feelings for him evolved over time, morphing from irritation and exasperation to anticipation and affection. You had fallen hard for Wade and while you knew you didn't have a shot with him, you couldn't stop yourself from pining.  

Wade made you feel alive again. Wade didn't treat you like you were bound to break from one wrong word. Wade poked and prodded until he got hard-earned smiles out of you and he cared in his own roundabout way. Wade had a vocabulary and way with words that reminded you of Johnny and he always had your back when shit hit the fan.  

He had become your friend and then so much more and even though he wasn't with Vanessa any longer, you didn't dare to hope he would ever think of you as anything other than a teammate. 

Now, you were an X-Man with a pathetic crush on the only person to spectacularly fail out of the X-Men trainee program. You were holed up in your room, moping and feeding your own heartbreak with self-doubt, when you could be in a room surrounded by people who actually seemed to like you while you celebrated the man you were half in love with.  

"Fine," you groaned, pushing yourself to sit up. "Maybe we should go to that party after all," you conceded, catching the quick smile on Johnny's face.  

"Apology accepted," Johnny allowed, standing from the chair.  

There was a knock on your bedroom door and you frowned at it. You didn't think Piotr would have waited around for you, but you appreciated the sentiment. He was the kind of hopeful you were tempted to find foolish, but you begrudgingly thought it was sweet instead.  

Another insistent knock had you rolling your eyes.  

"That's gotta be Negasonic," Johnny commented, gesturing for you to go ahead and open the door. "Don't keep her waiting. She'll just blow the door down. Again." 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," you called, shooting Johnny a warning look when he smirked at your choice of words.  

You expected Negasonic or Piotr or maybe even Yukio when you opened the door. You weren't expecting four people decked out in full combat gear. You got a glimpse of an orange TVA stamped onto the front of the uniform before you were grabbed by the arm and tugged forward. You heard Johnny shout before there was a rush of flames and everything went dark.  

You woke with your forehead resting on a table. There was a headache brewing right behind your eyes and your heart was pounding. You tried to figure out where you were and what happened when you realized you could still hear Johnny.  

"--these fuckers and I'll roast them until their brains leak out their ears and then I'll--" 

"What the fuck," you groaned, finally managing to pick your head up off the table.  

You were seated facing a guy you didn't recognize. Johnny was pacing restlessly from one end of the room to the other, keeping an eye on the stranger.  

"Good, you're awake," Johnny said at the same time as the other guy.  

Johnny scowled at the guy. "This British prim and proper fuck kidnapped you and has been sitting there staring at you like a fucking creep. Now that you're awake, I can use my power and barbecue the smug prick." 

"I'm sorry we had to resort to such harsh methods, but my men assured me they handled you with the utmost care. We couldn’t risk you using your abilities, although one of my men did walk away a little singed." 

You caught Johnny’s satisfied grin and had to resist the urge to roll your eyes.  

You frowned at the stranger, still trying to make sense of the situation. "What the hell is going on? Where am I?" 

"You've been chosen," the guy informed you. "We at the TVA have to make the tough choices in order to ensure the upkeep of the timelines, particularly the sacred timeline, and we would like to recruit you to work for us." 

You blinked at him once, twice, trying to understand what he was telling you. You had never heard of the TVA and you had no fucking clue what the sacred timeline was or why it even mattered. All you really knew was that you had been kidnapped and now you were being given a job pitch. 

"Oh, how rude of me. You see, I know everything about you, but you know nothing about me. They call me Paradox. We've been keeping an eye on you for quite some time and we believe you're perfect for our mission here at the TVA. I'm quite a fan myself of your skillset and I know without a doubt we can put it to good use here." 

You neglected to respond, not liking the direction the conversation was headed. No good person actually liked your powers. You hated them, but there was nothing you could do about that except use them as sparingly as possible. Villains tried to recruit you and superheroes sneered at you once they realized what you could do. But the only people who really mattered to you were the only ones who realized you were more than abilities. They were the ones who accepted you regardless of the fact you could raise the dead or allow them to possess you. They were the ones who didn’t try to push you to use your other power when they realized you wanted nothing to do with it.  

Paradox seemed to realize he had lost you, because he heaved a heavy sigh and stood from his chair. 

"Why don't you follow me? We've got a friend of yours here who might be a bit more persuasive than I am. I understand why you might be reluctant, given your tragic past and whatnot, but we promise to treat you with absolute respect here." 

“I don’t like this,” Johnny grumbled, glaring at Paradox. “Something’s wrong here.”  

You shared a look with Johnny. He still looked pissed off and you consoled yourself with the fact that if shit went sideways, then he could always use his power to take out Paradox.  

You got up out of the chair and followed Paradox out of the room. He took you to an elevator that opened onto a walkway that looked down on several cubicles where other TVA employees were dutifully working. You noticed a few of them lift their heads, gifting you with curious glances, before going back to work. 

 Paradox led you towards a row of monitors at the end of the walkway. Reels of battles were playing on the screens, and you caught sight of members of the Avengers.  

"We only look for the best and brightest here at the TVA and you have the potential to become someone who makes a real difference. We'd like you to join the best of the best." 

You wanted to tell Paradox you were already part of a team. You had the X-Men and you didn't want to abandon them.  

You had a good thing going, really, all things considered.  

But then the elevator opened and you turned just in time to see Wade stride out in a new Deadpool suit.  

He hadn't donned the suit in years, and you felt your breath catch in your throat at the sight of him. The first thought that came to your mind was that he looked gorgeous, confident in a way he hadn’t been in six years. The next thought that quickly followed was that the suit fit him really well and left nearly nothing to the imagination. You had to avert your gaze, finding Johnny staring at you with a shit-eating grin that only served to make you feel even more flustered.  

Wade was busy gushing about the suit and you heard him mention adamantium katanas before his eyes finally landed on you.  

Wade gasped, pointing a finger at you. "Y/N's joining the big leagues too? Oh ho ho, that's the best news over. C'mere," he reached out to draw you into a hug and you could only stand there, flummoxed by the turn of events.  

Wade being here as well changed everything, and you had a feeling there was no going back. As long as Wade was at the TVA, you weren’t going anywhere.  

"So," Wade started, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "When can me and my girl here join the Avengers? I figure we can do a one week on one week off sort of schedule. Gives us enough time to come back and really put in the time with our family." 

You were having a hard time concentrating with Wade pressed so close to your side. Couple that with the fact that he had also referred to you as his girl and your head was spinning.  

Paradox narrowed his eyes at Wade for a moment before his confusion cleared. "No, no," he denied with a shake of his head. "I'm afraid you don't quite get it. Your universe and that family will be no more, Mr. Wilson. Your universe is going to be wiped out because it lost its anchor being." 

Wade went still at your side, his shoulders tensing in a way that usually meant nothing good, and you knew shit was about to go down. You shot Johnny a look, catching him staring at Paradox with even more venom than before. You had no doubt he was thinking about his own family and Sue and Peter Parker and all the others he had loved so much while he was alive being decimated because of Paradox and the TVA. 

"Well," Wade started, drawing away from you. "You're in luck, because I'm right here. It was just a little retirement, but I'm back in the saddle now, and ready to giddy up again." He mimed riding a horse for a brief moment before growing still. It was the way he held himself when he knew there was danger and you knew that when he started fighting, you were going to have his back.  

Paradox snorted, instinctive and involuntary from the surprised look on his face. "You? Oh, dear God, no. I'm talking about a being who gave up everything, including his own life, in a sacrifice that was so noble, so heart wrenching that it left many in tears. This man's loss sent shockwaves through your timeline, triggering its destruction. I'm talking, of course, about Logan. The Wolverine." 

Paradox gestured towards the monitors where an older Logan Howlett was dying. He was talking to a young girl and was gravely injured, his skin ashen grey and words growing more drawn out as he clung to life.  

 You glanced at the TVA employees who had all paused what they were doing to stare up at the monitors. Some had hands clutched to their chests at the display and a few even had tears in their eyes. Paradox seemed just as enthralled by the scene and you wondered when the hell Logan was set to die, because as far as you knew, he was still very much alive in your time.  

"Right, okay, yeah," Wade said, turning away from Paradox before putting his head in his hands and shaking it in frustration. "Logan?!" He exclaimed, turning on Paradox again. "That jackass is what's keeping me from losing my family? That fucker can heal, so how the fuck can he die? And he’s got skewers for hands! He’s not that fucking special. Put him on a street corner and he can sell kebabs off those things. You’re really telling me that fucker is going to kill my timeline because he finally decided to retire?" 

"He's really quite extraordinary," Paradox mused, watching the monitors as the life drained out of Logan's eyes. He turned the monitors off before gifting Wade all his attention again. "I've been tasked with watching your timeline die out of natural causes, but that's not good enough for me, no. I'm going to use a device that's going to rip apart your timeline. It's a mercy killing, Mr. Wilson, and while it's an acceptable loss, I've pruned you and your friend here because I thought we could use you. Your talents are impressive, Mr. Wilson, and well, you," Paradox continued, addressing you. "The way you fight the darkness inside you to be a better hero. How you eschew half your power because of the pain you've faced in your past. The powers you wield and borrow from the dead without ever letting it overwhelm you. All of that brought you here and I really think the both of you should be thanking me." 

"Thanking you," you repeated, finally deigning to talk again after letting yourself observe everything in silence. "You're planning to kill our universe and you want us to thank you?" 

"You're basically telling us you're gonna take our timeline out back and shoot it," Wade added, his tone edged with a hint of steel, betraying his anger.  

"I'm good at what I do and I'm not meant to sit around and watch the lights go dim on your universe." He pointed a device at the monitors, and they turned on again, showing a machine being activated by TVA agents.  

"What in the ever-loving fuck is that?" Wade asked, leaning forward to try to get a better look at the picture before you.  

"That is a time ripper," Paradox answered with a smug grin. "And I intend to use it to rip apart your little universe. Your friends and your family won't feel a thing, of course, it's really the most humane way to do these things. Letting them just blink out of existence from natural causes, well, that's unneeded. I want to run, no be the TVA one day and these are the kind of decisions that will put me at the top." 

"Are you believing this shit?" Wade muttered, lowering his voice so only you could hear.  

"Not really," you answered, studying Paradox with interest. "But if you let him keep talking, he'll give us something he didn't mean to." 

"Get him monologuing, good call," Wade approved with a nod of his head.  

"What are you two talking about? Were you listening to me at all?" Paradox interrupted, appearing irritated by you and Wade.  

"No," you and Wade answered at the same time.  

"Jinx," Wade whispered, reaching out to pinch you.  

You slapped his hand away, keeping your full attention on Paradox, waiting for him to fuck up.  

Paradox huffed out an annoyed breath. "Your universe is dying and I intend to erase it completely from existence once the time ripper is ready. The both of you can be saved and you can use your abilities for a greater cause. I'm giving you a chance most others don't get, so don't waste it. " 

"Oh, I don't intend to," Wade assured him, beginning to approach him. "So, you're saying that without Logan, my universe dies?" 

Paradox rolled his eyes, his composure beginning to fade. "How many times do I have to--" 

Wade grabbed Paradox by the shoulders and jerked him forward so his nose made contact with Wade's forehead. Paradox staggered back, holding his now bleeding nose.  

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Paradox spat, fury flashing in his eyes.  

"I'm going to snag me a Wolverine," Wade answered, holding up the device Paradox had been holding. "And lookie what I got here." 

Paradox's eyes went wide in alarm before Wade rushed towards you and grabbed your hand. He used the device to open a doorway just off the walkway. He spun you so you were facing him and wrapped his arms around your waist. You instinctively wrapped yours around him as he fell off the walkway right onto the orange glowing portal.  

Wade hit the ground, and you landed on him. You glanced up to see the way back had been sealed off, leaving you and Wade stuck in a forest covered in snow.  

"Not that this isn't nice and all," Wade mused, tilting his head to the side as he considered you. You wished you could see his face so you could read his expression instead of just his tone. "But we've got a family to save." 

"Right," you muttered, patting Wade on the chest in thanks for softening the blow for you. You moved to get up before holding out a hand to help Wade up off the ground. Your head was still reeling from the turn of events and there was a little flutter in your stomach at the memory of being pressed up against Wade. He had grabbed you and shielded you from the fall and all you could think about was how nice it had felt being held in his arms.  

"You're so easy," Johnny teased, leaning against a tree as he studied you. "Is it his big, strong arms? That skintight red suit? You always were a sucker for a guy in a suit. Remember how riled up you'd get when I put mine on?" 

"Oh my God, shut up," you groaned, turning a glare on Johnny.  

"I didn't--you know what? Never mind. Be back in a sec," Wade promised before he used the device again. He was gone for just a moment, barely long enough for you to feel stranded out in the wilderness. He appeared again, holding a shovel in his hand and brandishing it at you. "Ready to dig up an X-Man?" 

You sat with your back against a tree and watched Wade dig up Logan's grave. You had never met Logan, because he had split by the time you joined the X-Men. You weren't really sure where he was, but you supposed he no longer wanted to play hero. Not after Jean Grey's death left him heartbroken. The team had shattered after Scott's death, but the pieces had scattered upon losing Jean. It had taken years before a new team formed and while you didn't hold the same glory as the older X-Men, you knew what you did still mattered.  

"I guess, in a certain light, he is kinda hot, you know," Johnny commented, sitting at your side. “He’d probably be strong enough to hold you up against a wall while you--” 

“Stop it,” you snapped, embarrassed even though you were the only one who could hear Johnny. 

Wade had finished digging up the grave and was now hidden from view.  

"What the fuck!" Wade barked before you saw him grab the shovel and start hitting something over and over again. "Get. Up. You. Fucking. Useless. Piece. Of. Shit." Each word was punctuated by another hit of the shovel and you could hear it connect with something metal each time. 

You had a sinking feeling in your gut that Logan was more than a little dead.  

"But fuck is he an idiot," Johnny continued with an unimpressed look in your direction. "Your standards really lowered after I died, you know that?" 

"Wade," you called, opting to ignore Johnny for now and moving to stand up. "Why don't we just take a second, alright? Get out of the grave and let’s rethink our plan." 

Instead of Wade, a metal skull peeked over the edge of the grave. "You see this shit? We came all the way out here to bumfuck who fucking cares and he's actually dead!" There was a hint of hysteria in Wade's tone and you took a few steps forward until you could see him hunched over Logan’s skeleton, shaking it in frustration. "What was all that bullshit about regenerative healing for then? Because it's not doing shit for us now!" 

"C'mon," you coaxed, knowing Wade was in the midst of a meltdown. He had been relying on the idea that Logan was miraculously still alive and now that he was met with the harsh evidence that Logan was completely and totally dead, he was starting to lose hope. "Let's take a second to regroup. There's got to be another answer." 

"Yeah, we're fucked, that's the answer," Wade hissed, but he still threw Logan's skeleton over the side of the grave before following.  

You watched him stand and dust himself off before grabbing the skeleton. You were getting a little worried about how he seemed intent on dragging it along with him, as if he was still hoping Logan would spring to life at any moment.  

"I don't think fresh air's gonna kickstart his healing," Johnny said with a frown.  

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? It's just, you were my only shot at getting this fixed and now I'm in a teensy bit of a bind."  

It took you a moment to realize that Wade was talking to Logan's corpse.  

Wade reached out to upright Logan's skeleton and adjusted it until it was sitting next to him on a fallen tree.   

"God, Logan, I've gotta admit, I always wanted a team-up. Deadpool and Wolverine. It'd be a billion-dollar idea right there, but what are we gonna do? You're dead and I'm, well, not," he continued, slapping a hand to Logan's patella with a chuckle that sounded a bit too unhinged.  

"Wade, maybe we should just--" you started to say before dozens of orange doorways appeared. You saw TVA agents begin to stream out of them. "Fuck," you breathed, your heart racing at the sight of them.  

"I mean, yeah, we probably should do that, but I don't think now's the time," Wade mused before he realized what had caught your attention. "Get down!" He urged you, moving to duck behind the log he had been sitting on and pulling Logan with him.  

You dropped down, not wanting to become an easy target. You reached out with your power, searching for someone to use. She was young, younger than you would have preferred, but when you locked eyes with her where she was standing just a few feet away, she gave a nod of agreement.  

You watched her walk towards you, aware that Wade was trying to reason with the TVA agents. You reached a hand out, feeling the cold brush of hers pass through yours, before she was absorbed into your body.  

You would never get used to the feeling of another soul tucked right up against yours. You were fully in control, but the passenger was getting to see and feel and touch again even if it was just for a brief moment. You could feel her satisfaction at feeling the hum of her power along your limbs and you slowly got to your feet.  

Wade had been busy disposing of TVA agents while you were waiting on Liana to possess you. You felt guilty that she would just have to be a bystander as you used her power to save yourself, but there was no other way. Johnny was the only one that was able to use his powers without possessing you and you still didn't even know how that worked. Whenever he used his power, you could still feel the pull of it, always dancing on the edges of your awareness. But he could stay outside your body and use it without you controlling him, which was more than you could say for the poor souls who let you use them up and spit them out again. 

"Watch out!" Johnny warned, already preparing a ball of flame to throw at the TVA agent trying to sneak up on you.  

You turned, stretching out a hand to jerk the baton out of his hand with your borrowed power. You sent it flying before slamming him back into a tree. You saw him slump to the ground before you focused on the next agent. Blood was now coating the ground and TVA agents were falling left and right, you and Wade making quick work of them while Johnny set the stragglers on fire, sending them screaming and attempting to put out the flames Johnny would only reinforce.  

"Shit," Wade breathed once there was no one left to fight. "What was it this time?" He asked you, gesturing with his hands, mimicking you using your stolen ability.  

"Telekinesis," you answered with a sigh. You had already parted ways with Liana and watching her wander away, forever forced to trek through the woods where she died, left you with a grief you didn't know how to shake.  

"Right," Wade replied, keeping his gaze on you. You weren't sure what he saw on your face, but he didn't care to comment on it. "Well, guess we've got to find ourselves a Logan that's still got some pep in his step." Wade held a hand out towards you. "You with me on this?" 

You stared down at Wade's outstretched hand. It was stupid and reckless and you didn't know what the hell would happen to you. But you trusted Wade and you had never been all that great at telling him no. You grabbed his hand, letting him pull you closer.  

"I'm with you," you told him before you let him sweep you away to another universe.  

After the fifth Logan attempted to kill Wade, you had a feeling it wasn't going to be easy taking a Wolverine anywhere he didn't want to go.  

"You wanna step in any time?" Wade grunted as the Logan you found in the apocalyptic wasteland brought his claws down into Wade's chest over and over, sending blood shooting up and coating his face in it.  

"You know, I think you're doing great," you absentmindedly assured him, shooting a wary look at the horde of souls who were all watching you with hunger in their eyes. This universe was steeped in death and your power was screaming at you to reach out and take them all, use them up and discard them, let their powers consume you. Instead, you turned your back on them, searching for your lifeline among the dead. "Wade, let's get the fuck out of here." Your voice was strained and you could feel them all staring at you. They wanted a taste of life again and you were the only one who could give it to them. If you submitted to one, they would all converge on you, threatening to tear you apart until there was nothing of you left.  

Wade seemed to realize you were struggling, because he was quick to bring a katana up and shove it through Wolverine's chest, forcing him back. He jumped to his feet, pulling his katana free before running towards you and pulling you into the next universe.  

You fell through universe after universe, searching for a Logan to drag back to the TVA in the hopes he would save your home. There was an older version of Logan who blew a hole through Wade, forcing you to put your hands up in surrender so you wouldn't suffer the same fate. There was a Logan fighting the Hulk which made quick work of flinging Wade to the side, forcing you to grab a teleportation ability from an old man so you could grab Wade and get out of range of the fight. There was a Logan in Madripoor playing poker and another one who had been turned into a zombie. There was another in league with Hydra and one nailed to a giant X amidst a field of bloodied skulls. 

You jumped from place to place, attempting to find the right Logan, but all of them only seemed to want to kill Wade. Sometimes, they even tried to take a swipe at you, prompting Johnny and Wade to do their best to keep them off you. You knew you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, but you were touched by their protective instincts. You spent so much time wallowing in self-loathing because of what you had done in your past that it was nice to get a reminder that there were still people who cared about you. 

You were starting to think you wouldn't find a Logan before the TVA caught up with the pair of you. It wasn't until Wade dragged you into another universe where you found a Logan sitting at a bar staring down into a glass of whiskey like it was his whole world that you finally lucked out.  

You hung back while Wade sidled up Logan. You could only hear about half of what they were saying so you shuffled forward, not wanting to break whatever fragile peace had fallen between Wade and Logan. This was the furthest Wade had gotten without bleeding, so you were starting to feel the tiniest glimmer of hope that this was going to finally work out.  

"You're comin' with me," Wade said before he stood and attempted to pull Logan up off his seat. 

Logan stumbled, a scowl on his face, as he attempted to unsheathe his claws. They were slowly pushing through his skin as he confronted Wade.  

"Performance issues, huh? Let's get you a little blue pill and those things will be fully erect in no time," Wade joked with a dismissive little wave of his hand.  

"Shut the fuck up," Logan growled, before his eyes met yours over Wade's shoulder. "What's the Avengers want with me? I told them I'm not doing shit for them." 

"Avengers?" You wondered, quickly glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Captain America standing there. "Me?" You checked, looking back at Logan.  

"Don't play dumb with me," he snapped, his focus stolen by Wade's snort of amusement.  

"You lucky son of a bitch," Wade shot over his shoulder at you. "They wouldn't take me, you know," he confided in Logan.  

Logan quirked an unimpressed eyebrow at Wade. "I can see why, bub." 

"Hurtful," Wade responded, before he sighed. "Alright, look, enough of this. You're coming with us." 

"Like hell I am," Logan argued. "I'm not going anywhere with you." 

You watched Wade pull a gun on Logan and Logan only followed that up with an amused smirk before draining the bottle of whiskey. When his eyes rolled back up into his head and he fell to the ground unconscious, Johnny let out a low whistle.  

"That one's got some issues," he observed. "But then again, all these Logans seem more than a little fucked up." 

"Yeah," you sighed, ignoring Wade's curious glance, before moving forward. "Let's get him back to the TVA." 

"Already on it," Wade assured you before bending down and attempting to pull Logan up off the floor. He froze, moving aside the collar of Logan's shirt. "Well, hello there," Wade practically purred, obviously pleased about something. "This is so much better," he continued before starting to strip Logan's jacket off him.  

"Uh, Wade?" You called, realizing you were starting to draw an audience.  

"Is he taking off his clothes? I mean, I'd like to see what he's packing under all that, sure, but here in front of all these people?" Johnny asked, sounding equal parts fascinated and horrified.  

It wasn't until Wade had managed to get Logan out of his jacket and shirt that you realized what he wanted.  

"Is that--?" 

"The yellow and blue, tried and true, yep," Wade answered, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Think it goes all the way down?" He started unzipping Logan's pants and you rolled your eyes.  

"God, give the guy some dignity," you admonished, doing your best to shield Logan from the curious glances of the bar patrons. "I doubt he has much of it left at this point."  

This Logan seemed broken and defeated. There wasn't much fight left in him at all. You didn't know what happened to him or why he hadn't tried to automatically kill Wade, but you were tempted to try to find out.  

"Alright, all better," Wade approved once Logan was left in nothing but his X-Men suit before he got to his feet and dusted off his hands. "Little help here?" 

You helped him get Logan off the floor. Logan's head rolled to the side, coming to a rest on your shoulder. You studied him for a moment, noticing that he was beginning to come around again.  

Logan stumbled on his feet between you and Wade as you brought him through the portal to the TVA.  

Wade let Logan fall to the floor and you almost tumbled after him. You stopped yourself at the last moment though and noticed Wade approaching Paradox.  

You weren't sure where you needed to be or what you needed to do, but it quickly became apparent that Paradox wasn't pleased with Wade. 

"You not only brought the wrong Wolverine," Paradox started, "but you brought arguably the worst Wolverine." 

You glanced down at Logan to see the pain etched into his expression. There was something haunting him, not quite so literally as your past was with you, but you felt for him.  

"How about you shut the hell up and tell us how to fix this," you interrupted, not wanting to hear Paradox disparage Logan anymore. The guy had just been kidnapped, he didn’t need to be belittled by a total stranger on top of it. 

"Fix it? There is no fixing it," Paradox claimed. "Your universe is fucked and there's nothing you can do to stop it." 

"I want to speak to your manager," Wade hissed, getting in Paradox's face. "I'm fully trained in Karen and I intend to bring hell down on whatever little operation you've got going on here. I’m gonna get you fired, buddy!" 

You caught the briefest flicker of fear in Paradox's expression and realized that Wade had finally uncovered what had been so sketchy about Paradox from the beginning.  

"Oh," Wade breathed in understanding. "You've gone rogue."  

Logan slowly got to his feet at your side as Wade ranted about finding the top dog of the TVA and snitching on Paradox. Paradox looked more and more unsettled and you saw the baton just a beat too late.  

"Wade," you started before Wade was gone in a flash of light and smoke, leaving the stolen device that had been in his hand to clatter useless to the walkway.  

"God, that's better," Paradox sighed. “Some peace and quiet.” 

"Where the fuck did he go? What did you do?" Logan snarled, turning and searching for Wade, as if he was simply hiding.  

"Same thing I'm going to do to you, Mr. Howlett. I sent him to the Void," Paradox informed him.  

Logan growled before letting his claws spring free. He charged at Paradox before he too was gone the same way Wade had disappeared.  

You stayed where you were, watching Paradox. You figured you only had two choices here and there was only really one road you wanted to follow. The quickest way back to Wade and Logan.  

"You can stay here and be what you're meant to be," Paradox tried to persuade you. "Those two idiots will only hold you back, you know. We can still use you here." 

"Yeah," you agreed, feeling a smile tug at your lips. "But if you don't send me where you sent them, I'm going to kill you. And you know I can. So, what do you value more? My compliance or your life?" 

Paradox clenched his jaw, visibly irritated, and you gifted him with a smirk as you threw your arms wide.  

"Get on with it," you goaded him just as he closed the distance between you and the room spun away.  

Everything disappeared in a flash of light, swiftly followed by an all-encompassing darkness. You clawed your way free, shouts and metal clashing with metal greeting you as you finally drifted back up into consciousness.  

You squinted against the light that was shining down on you and managed to sit up. You felt lightheaded for a moment before everything settled and you realized that Logan and Wade were fighting each other. Wade had stabbed Logan through the chest with his katanas and Logan had buried his claws in Wade's sides.  

"Oh my God," you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "I should've stayed at the TVA."  

"You've only got yourself to blame," Johnny agreed, ignoring your noise of protest. "You gonna stop those two idiots from fighting or what? They're not gonna be of any use to you like this." 

"I know, I know," you dismissed with a wave of your hand.  

"If you know, then get the hell up and get over there before Logan kills him," he told you.  

It was then you noticed Wade on his knees and Logan poised to strike, intent on taking Wade's head off with his claws. You didn't think it would actually kill Wade, but Logan seemed like he was hellbent on trying, so you hurriedly got to your feet.  

"Shit, shit, shit," you chanted as you raced over towards them.  

You were halfway there when you heard his voice.  

"Fighting each other isn't the answer, you know. It's only gonna make us lose faster," he called down from where he was perched on a metal tower several feet above you.  

He had a hood pulled up over his head obscuring his face from view, but you would recognize that voice anywhere.  

You had been hearing it for years.  

You could see the hint of blue hidden beneath the layers he was wearing. It was a different version of the suit than you had been used to seeing, but you knew without a doubt that there would still be a ‘4’ emblazoned on the chest.  

You glanced over your shoulder to lock eyes with your Johnny, half-convinced that he had somehow managed to change out of the leather jacket, white t-shirt, and blue jeans he had died in, but he was still unchanged.  

It only meant that the person up on the scaffolding above you was still alive.  

"Johnny," you whispered, feeling like the ground had been ripped out from right beneath you.  

"They're coming," the other Johnny warned, pointing off in the distance at the dust clouds that were kicked up beneath the wheels of the line of vehicles heading towards you. 

The other Johnny dropped down to the ground and Wade made a sound of approval.  

"That's one hell of a superhero landing," he praised, clapping his hands.  

You wanted to believe you were wrong, but you knew that nothing in your life had ever been easy. It wasn't until the hood was removed and you were met with the sight of an older version of Johnny that you realized maybe you should have just joined Paradox.  

It would have been a hell of a lot less painful than looking into the eyes of the man your ex-boyfriend should have become before you ripped his life away with your power.  

You glanced over your shoulder, seeking out your Johnny again, and caught him staring at the other Johnny.  

Awe, jealousy, fascination, and remorse were written into the lines of his expression. You had deprived Johnny of his future and now it was standing right in front of him. Seeing Johnny watch his older self play hero felt like a punch in the gut and you wished more than anything that your power involved time travel. You would do anything to unwrite your past mistakes and have Johnny live, even if you meant that you died. 

You wanted to apologize. You wanted to scream. You wanted to run. You wanted to hide.  

Instead, overwhelmed by all the warring instincts, you simply burst into tears. 

Author's Note: If you want to be tagged for this fic, just let me know! Any love for this would mean so much to me if you read this and liked it!! I'm so excited about this one and I really hope y'all are too. Next up in the fic rotation: Marvel Zombies/What IF?: Zombies with zombified!Logan/Reader and Bucky/Reader for Halloween!

Taglist: @shizzybarnaclee @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313

[simplykorra]

ava + her gay little hat - part I

[jinxquickfoot]

He’s preparing to throw the shield a third time when he hears a muffled shout and the sounds of a struggle, and then a raspy but still familiar voice is filling the cabin. “Stand down, Cap. No one has to die tonight.” -------------------------------------- When Steve and Rhodey get caught in a storm, the remains of HYDRA take advantage of their isolation.