#idk what this is just… phoenix jimmy i guess

[astronautbeans]

Uhhhh randchers duo!!

you are wonderful and amazing thank you <3 one ranchers snip coming right up!!!

PEOPLE GO VOTE GHOST’S VAULT OVER HERE IM WRITING ANYTHING YOU COULD IF YOU SEND ME PROOF YOU VOTED FOR GHOST VAULT @mcyt-builds-contest

Whoever gave Tango the idea that Jimmy didn’t have fire in him — and therefore would never truly match him — had been utterly, embarrassingly wrong. The universe didn’t make mistakes. When it had said ‘your nether flames and his golden wings belong together’, it had known. It didn’t bind their souls together for no treason, it had known.

Tango hadn’t thought he could admire Jimmy more than he already did. Sure, his wit, his charisma, his nature, all those traits made him easily lovable, but somewhere deep down below, there were embers. Embers that, when struck, provoked, were more than willing to start burning.

He looked up at his once soulmate, red eyes wide in wonder, one arm numb from the TNT that had brought him down, and he couldn’t help the proud grin that parted his lips and showed his teeth. There in front of him, Jimmy’s wings were bright with golden flames. The were spread wide, cutting Grian off from him, the fire filling in the gaps where his wings were short.

As much as his body begged him to let himself fall asleep, he stayed up to watch Jimmy chase Grian away. The pride was just enough to keep his eyes from slipping shut as the adrenaline started to wear off. He wanted to cheer, wanted to shout “Whoo! I knew you had it in you!”, but he couldn’t so much as say his name. Instead, a pathetic groan escaped — really, people needed to see he was the incompetent one of the two.

When Jimmy finally turned to him and kneeled by his side, his eyes were bright and glowed golden light. He looked downright angelic, like he’d flown down from the sky like a guardian angel just for him. He was the canary, but instead of his voice dying out, he turned aflame to lead the miners out the cave, a brightness in the abyss, a lantern.

Tango didn’t doubt the hand Jimmy reached out to help him up was hot to the touch. He couldn’t tell even if he wanted to. He staggered to his feet, Jimmy catching him easily, and laughed softly in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he muttered, a genuine smile on his face as he looked up at his once soulmate — he wouldn’t mind still calling him that.

The flames died down. Jimmy looked … tired, but his eyes were painted with concern, protectiveness, like he’d set himself and the ground around him aflame again if he needed to.

But as they did, the collar around his neck became visible again. A yellow timer ticked down, and it was a horrid reminder that this wasn’t Double Life anymore. They weren’t soulmates anymore.

And still, as Jimmy smiled at him, he couldn’t quite agree with that. They weren’t tethered together anymore, but there was something strong between them still.

“No more little canary, huh? Who knew there was a phoenix beneath all that?” He grinned, exhausted as he was, and patted his chest.

Jimmy just rolled his eyes. ���Don’t let Grian get you like that again. I might not be there to save you again like that.”

Tango gave him a curt nod, though he would love to see those brilliant flames again. They’d match pretty well with his own, wouldn’t they?

not my best work but we’re gonna roll with it, hope you liked it <3

[joshvvashington]

for the 50 wrestling questions meme: 24, 29, 33, 44, 47, 48, 49 (yes this is basically an excuse for you to talk about kyle and rdgn and ue uwu)

24. Favorite faction?

- this is a predictable bastard loving household and yall KNOW its ue bc they r simply the best tho i also have a fondness for s.c.u.m. ALSO u know ive been dipping into tmdk as much as i can and i do love their lack of braincells. i dont watch v much njpw but i Deeply appreciate Everything about lij.

29. Favorite heel?

- kevin is such a good heel is bonkers. shayna. ue even tho bobby & kyle in particular r also v good faces and i know kyle has said he rlly loves doing face work they r simply bastards whom i adore. real poeseph redragonites-kyleoreillys fans know im putting mr the miz on here too. the revival. saying them again bc im whipped: redragon. shinsuke altho im still mad he didnt win the title from aj bc he still could have turned after the match so!!!!! im starting to like gyv too ill admit it. the bar. i.... guess ill say team ambition for sleazy kyle rights and also simply bc i have feelings abt that arc which r well known by now probably just know that i AM daveyphobic and i DO still think kyle shouldnt have been the heel in the future shock split. ariya funky little gaudy man but please find some better friends (i genuinely miss the tony/drew/ariya power trio of morons who happen to love each other). uhhhhhhhhhmrthornetooiguess. oh and jimmy jacobs. OH AND IO cant believe i almost forgot smh fakeass

33. Biggest missed opportunity for a story line?

- bro beauseph and i didnt go all out with face miz/heel daniel feud concepts for Months for nothing. did those dark matches mean nothing to wwe. see also: survivor series cocaptains; begrudging-alliance-for-mutual-benefit-to-tag-team-partners. im not like keeping up w aew or anything but can i count whatevers going on w hangman for this bc it feels like they shouldve pulled the trigger by now and its not Tension anymore its just getting old. idk im struggling w this one even tho i KNOW theres shit weve talked abt before??

44. Favorite match? 

- kyle vs adam hybrid rules bitw 2012 if yr out there......... steen vs generico final battle 2010 always on the list. kyle vs kushida every match theyve ever had just wuv them. redragon vs cole & strong. kyle vs marty scurll pwg asw uhhhhh 2016?? kyle vs shibata AND bobby vs shibata. redragon/time splitters/forever hooligans/b*cks wk9. every redragon vs time splitters match ive seen so far bc im so fuckign BABY theyre so good. mustafa vs cedric wm34. bianca vs shayna takeover phoenix. shayna/bianca/io/kairi from takeover new york. there r so many im forgetting but i reckon those r my like Go To answers and also the fave matches that ive seen most often or most recently

47. Favorite submission?

- love a dragon sleeper. a good guillotine WILL kick my ass. kirifuda koji & coquina clutches ALL very good. OH cant forget. hoverboard lock.

48. Most entertaining to watch?

- ok well. kyle. hes Always good Always fun Always trying smth new when theres an opportunity even when it nothing like...... dramatic or theatrical or particularly Attention Grabbing? hes SO good idk if i have the vocabulary to say exactly what i mean but ive never once lost interest in a match hes been in even before i went full dummy uwu. also: io, bianca, bobby, kevin, jay lethal, hiromu, kushida, cesaro, naito, naomi

49. Best spot?

- god,,,,, memory bad for specifics on this from Older content. but i hope lince knows im thinking abt his wild man feral cat activities from last night

[my-love-peterp]

Mistaken Chapter Five

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST DROP ME AN ASK

please like and rb/comment <3

Word Count: 2721 (this actually comprises chapters 7 and 8 on Ao3)

THERE ARE NO ENDGAME SPOILERS, THIS IS A DELAYED UPLOAD FROM AO3

Fic Summary: Peter Parker has been given the responsibility of bringing in a new recruit. Now, as an adult, he realizes that none of the trashy YA novels he read in high school could have prepared him for this. There was a storm on the horizon, and all they could do from the Tower is watch.

Chapter Summary: Lol updating within a few hours after weeks of not updating at all? It’s more likely than you think. HOnestly, not my finest work but I’m so tired and I feel so bad about not getting anything out there sooner. I want to change bits and pieces of this story but my goodness, yeah. So if you’d like to Beta read shit for me, y’all would be much appreciated.

Warnings: honestly idk, if I missed something besides language hmu friends

Chapter One   Chapter Two   Chapter Three   Chapter Four

I ran. There was no stopping me. I stole a cowl from a closet and drifted into the shadows, just long enough to leap from the window.

I materialized and flitted down back alleys until I hit Park Ave. I didn’t know much about this area of New York, but every borough has their drinking holes, right?

Minutes later, I was staggering into a quaint little bar that wasn’t quite the dive that I was looking for, but it would do. This was probably better in any case, fewer leering eyes and a hefty, red-haired, Irish woman who kept my drink full and men away.

Hydra was just one of the many skeletons rattling around in my closet, but they were the Rosetta Stone to my trauma in a lot of ways. Not the foundation, but the guide.

Two more glasses of Lagavulin and those pressing thoughts were kicked to the wayside.

Behind me, the grandfather clock chimed five o’clock. Just call me Jimmy Buffet and saddle me up with a margarita.

What no amount of alcohol could do, unfortunately, was erase the people I’d… met with Hydra. Or lost with them. Most of all, I could never forget my sister.

Brave and stupid drunk, I left my drinking post and headed down Park Avenue rather aimlessly. It felt like I was being drawn in a certain direction, meant to be there, which is absolutely absurd, but I was just drunk enough to believe it.

My feet halted half an hour later outside of a quaint little tattoo parlor. I’d always wanted a tattoo but I’d never had the time nor the money to get one. Fortunately, as a runaway Avenger-in-Training, I had both of those in spades now.

And, as fate would have it, the shop was advertising that they were available for walk-ins today.

Whipping out my new cell phone, I pulled up a picture of what exactly I wanted. My sister and I had always fancied we'd get matching ones someday.

The overly muscled and extremely tattooed man just nodded his ascent and began freehanding a design for the Phoenix on my right side. I was decently numbed from the booze, but as time passed, the more my sides protested in pain. Occasionally, I would feel a quick rush of air push cold wind over my aching skin and nearly groan in pleasure.

Finally, three hours later, I was gingerly easing my shirt back on, sides to be kept wrapped for the next hour or so, in case they started bleeding or weeping plasma and ink.

I stood, signed my name along the dotted line for the payment and stepped out on the street to find none other than Pietro standing, back resting against the side of the building with his arms crossed, obviously waiting for me.

Rather than acknowledge his presence, I moved to hail a taxi. He took that moment to wrap his arms around my middle, sending bolts of pain shooting from my fresh tattoos, and bolted down the street.

Fate, should it exist, obviously had a sense of humor. Minutes later, we were standing in the lobby of Avengers Tower.

Hesitantly, I moved for the elevator doors, wincing with every step as it pulled along my aching muscles, both from the walking and the movement of inked flesh. Pietro followed loosely behind me, as I anticipated. Once he had retrieved me, he certainly wasn’t going to let me escape. He was perhaps the one Avenger I couldn’t simply evade or trick, his eyes caught things as though they were moving half the speed they actually were.

An uncomfortable silence ensued as Pietro pressed the button to take us up to the Penthouse, the de facto floor for team meetings.

Despite receiving an equal number of concerned and suspicious glances, most of the team paid me little to no mind.

Peter gestured to Pietro, eyes questioning, and nods were exchanged. What I wouldn’t give to be able to hear what they were thinking. And maybe it was vain of me to assume that they’d been communicating about me, but I was almost positive.

Lost in my reverie, I almost missed the command Cap gave to Wanda to put me under. I hadn’t even taken a step by the time I was falling to the ground, unconscious, caught in lean arms.

It would be the best rest I’d get for weeks to come.

________________________________________________________________

I woke up in my own rooms, restrained to the bed. What had happened was fairly obvious, considering the only person who was in my rooms besides me was Tony. And he had an Iron Gauntlet trained on me as I came to. I hacked to clear my throat before speaking. “Seems like a bit of overkill Grandpa.”

Tony just glared down at me, not moving a single inch or softening in any way.

I tried again. “So I take it Witchy rummaged around in my head and found some… Not so savory things. Perhaps my stint as a Hydra assassin. Maybe the length of my kill list even. Let me guess, you’re currently prepping a room for me at whatever new and improved raft you built to keep Thanos locked up and never coming back. Fair warning, I’ll never go willingly and I can put up one hell of a fight.”

“Fortunately for you, that decision’s not up to me and would require the input of the feds, which, knowing what we do now, I can fairly certainly say, you’d prefer if they stayed out of it. 12 US government officials assassinated in less than three months by yours truly. Wow. Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Were I not a better man, I’d shoot you right now.”

“So why are you here Tony, if not to kill me?” I snarled back at him. “What good does me being alive do? To anyone.” That startled him a little bit, shell shocked enough to look up and into my eyes, where I saw my own feral irises reflected.

But he steeled himself again within moments. And then, out of the breast pocket of his blue blazer, he grabbed a sheet of paper.

Not a sheet of paper I realized as he folded it out for me. A picture of a skinny redheaded woman. One I recognized intimately. “Target 17. What do you need to know?” I questioned coldly, unfeeling. That made him jerk backward in his seat and hastily stand, panting and heaving, murderous intent glinting in his brown eyes.

“Her name was Pepper. And she was killed three days before our wedding, carrying my child. So I’d like to know. Was it-,“ he spat out like the words were physically fighting to escape from his body.

“Was it me? No. I was in the wind with my sister for a few months after our covers were almost blown taking out a diplomat in Indonesia. For what it’s worth, I truly am sorry Tony. Especially,” I said, voice dropping to a whisper, “about your son.”

“Excuse me, my what?” Fists clenched, he strode up to the side of my bed, closer to my head. I shied away from him as he bent down and got into my face. “What did you just say to me?”

Fuck. He didn’t know and I just made it ten times worse. The sound of his repulsor charging broke the most pregnant silence I’d ever heard. Before he could fire, though, Thor and Steve burst through the door and caught him as he collapsed in anguish, taking him away, leaving me alone. They knew everything about my time with Hydra. The evil I’d done and the evil I’d allowed to happen. I was the enemy. And I had no backup.

So back to normal.

Hours later, I gave in to my bone-deep weariness and collapsed into sleep. Dream after fever dream encased my drained mind, ephemeral and diaphanous. Most images were forgotten immediately, flighty and fragile as a butterfly’s wing. Others though, others stuck like mosquitos stuck in amber. Flashes.

Light, blood, destruction. Tattooed stars and deep, harrowing scars on ragged faces. Sobbing little boys with green eyes and silky hair.

Despite the intense lunacy and deep feeling of realness, I felt while dreaming, I was aware of a deep, striking pain within myself. It settled in my chest, buried deep, as though I’d replaced my stomach with Mjolnir. The ache was both sharp and dull, full and waning. It signaled that a harsh reality awaited me in the waking world. When I was dreaming it was like the pain had no anchor, no reason for tormenting me, as hapless and defenseless as a newly hatched bird.

When I’m half-awake, like I am now, I know why the pain is here, understand the presence of gut-wrenching guilt and searing hot shame and thus can accept them. I’m not sure which is worse to experience.

Sometimes I’m fully awake, being handed crackers or grapes or bottles of water by a person whose name I don’t know because I’m never cognizant long enough to catalog their face. Seconds later, I’m again drowning, pulled into the depths of my dreamscape.

My reality blurs and the cycle continues, vicious unto the end. And every time I wake, my cheeks are embarrassingly wet. It feels like weeks before I’m awake long enough to realize I’m not alone. That every time I wake, a new face is staring back at me from a different chair in my room.

I come to recognize them again in time. Wanda, Pietro, Bucky, Steve, Vision, even Peter. But never Tony.

I sit up for the first time after what feels like a month, though the limited aching emanating from my bones tells me, logically, that it’s only been a fraction of that time. One either side of my bed is a Maximoff. Wanda looks more concerned than wary. Pietro looks like a lion who caught the scent of an enemy pride.

“Go slowly Kaida,” Wanda urges, “you must be weak. It’s been a few days since you rejoined the land of the living. Her continued inquiries and entreaties fall on deaf ears. As vulgar as it now sounds in retrospect, I knew I had to move or else an accident would occur. I stumbled into my en suite, knowing even without needing to look that they would have removed anything that would have made a suitable weapon.

I also know that, should my biology betray any sign of shifting to make use of my abilities, F.R.I.D.A.Y. would alert the others and the full might of the Avengers would fall upon my head. And Wanda would have me back out in seconds. What couldn’t be stopped of measured for, of course, were things such as my superhuman hearing, that was currently picking up on the muffled conversation the twins were having in my bedroom on the other side of the bedroom door.

“Why are you blocking FRIDAY, we should be alerting the others that the prisoner is awake and ready for their attention.”

“Pietro! She’s not our prisoner,” Wanda reprimanded. “Besides, I wish to have a moment alone with the girl. Even if she is not a child of Strucker, she is what Hydra made her to be, somehow. I just… I’d like for her to have a sympathetic listener at first. We never got the benefit of the doubt. If you remember we weren’t exactly unwilling in our crusade against the Avengers.”

Pietro just grunted in agreement but remained tense at his sister's side. I quickly twisted off the faucet and reentered the bedroom. Rather than speak, Wanda simply patted the seat of the chair across from hers, indicating that I should take a seat. It was the gentlest command ever issued. I slid back until my shoulders brushed the high back of the chair.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off with a gesture of my hands. I leaned forward, extending my head towards her.

“Just look, let my mind answer your questions. I don’t know that I’d have the strength to or that we’d have the time before the others come charging in. If I’m going to die, I need at least one person to know and believe the truth. Maybe help persuade Captain Rogers to end my life swiftly. It’s more than I deserve.”

With that Wanda, eyes shining, placed her hands on my temples and breathed deeply as we were both transported to an infinitely darker place, many years ago.

Sinking through my memories was like drifting uncontrollably through a minefield. Tiny bursts of anguish shot through my mind as Wanda relived my upbringing with my sister, the house of horrors that was our home, being tapped to join Hydra and agreeing without ‘persuasion'. The missions, targets and our downfall. My sister's son. And finally, the mission that sent us both running for the hills...

The time since then. One dead-end job to another, sisters working to support each other, all while looking for the last remaining piece of our family. And, then that day had come. The snap and dust. Guilt flooding me and overwhelming a sense of horror as time passed.

Homeless until my… boyfriend. The horror that home turned into, one that I do still feel as though I deserved. Until one night he went too far and I left. The night Peter found me. Of course in the midst of all this, you had my ‘heroics' that mostly consisted of helping women out of situations I understood all too well. And that damned school. So Peter was looking for me at the behest of the Avengers after the most recent event had even landed on the front page of the New York Times.

My deeply buried need to have somewhere to call home, to have not just someone on my six but to have a family. All the emotions that Hydra and I, through my conditioning at their hands, thought of as compromising and weak.

I had agreed, understanding that I could play the role of Asset for the good guys for once, maybe correct some of the horrific circumstances I had had a hand in creating. My mission would be protecting others for the first time. Only in my wildest dreams had I imagined I'd ever have a family again, but they had begun to feel like home, in spite of the secrets I kept. Now that was ruined. That was inevitable, I reminded myself. Because of who I am, I could never have a family. I didn't deserve one.

“No,” Wanda said, interrupting our shared stream of thoughts, "not ruined, just a little, broken. They accepted us in time." Pietro nodded, eyes alighting on his sister and then on me. Curiosity burned in his soul-deep gaze. He leaned forward and used his abnormally large hand and rough fingers to cover his sister's hand, which I just realized was now twined in mine.

Connected like this, I felt the smallest flicker of hope come to life in me, setting my heart aflutter. Understanding and acceptance filled their eyes and I did tear up a little. I never expected this.

“You are not the monster your parents created. Nor the asset that Hydra trained. You are more than that Kaida. Let us help you find it. Find yourself.”

I nodded, leaning into her embrace as she gripped me by the shoulders and kissed my cheek.

At Wanda’s urging, I stepped into the shower, running my hand through my hair as nearly a week’s worth of grime was stripped off my body. I think it was safe to say that I’d never felt more confused and well, vulnerable in my life.

For the time being, I didn’t have a mission or a purpose. My handler, or the surrogate my mind had appointed was questionable at best now that all had been revealed. I didn’t like being left to my own mind and devices. Too many thoughts would rattle around inside my head. After a few hours, the twins left again, gentle eyes and kind reassurances.

Later and not seconds after my stomach rumbled with a fierceness I had forgotten it had, my door opened and a tray of food entered, held by Bucky, the Winter Soldier.

A/N: I’m uploading another chapter tonight that I am formatting and scheduling right flipping now so I don’t flake again. Really pumped for the new fic I’m starting though!

taglist: @peeterparkr @laurfangirl424 @private-bucky-barnes