#was gonna add more but i gotta focus on comms…..

[crowbitz]

fam pic

[mossytrashcan]

a trashcan’s guide to coloring

using @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid beautiful ivy rose, because I’m thinking of her always and also really struggling w the comm sorry (also this is long as hell fair warning)

sketch/line-art. I suggest making it at least kinda neat so you have a solid guideline, but honestly just do whatever you gotta do. I also like to set my sketch layer to multiply so that the line art meshes w the base

2. usually I lay down one base color (in this one it’s pink), then I use a clipping mask to lay down some flat colors. the brush you use for this won’t really matter because it’s gonna get covered by rendering (merge layers when you’re done)

3. get your references!! you’ll need them for when you start painting over your base, trust me. references changed my life and saved my summer harvest

4. now, on a layer created above your sketch and base, go in w/ a mix of lasso tool/freehand brushing and start blocking in your colors. the values on our faces naturally form blocky shapes, so try to focus your energy into getting those down

I like to use the spectra brush to render because it adds a nice texture, but feel free to experiment with what you’ve got. also, I tend to go darkest -> lightest -> middle in terms of coloring order

if you struggle with value, I suggest finding any picture (make it black and white by turning saturation down) where there are 3 clear values (black, grey, and white). then with a colored brush, outline all of the different shapes those values make. kinda like this!

5. quick color theory run down before we wrap up: use a cool toned grey (red based, pink based, purple, etc) for the blue parts of the skin, a desaturated red/pink for purple, and gray yellow for green. this will give you very lively and compelling coloring without being too crazy. obviously, you can do whatever you’d like, but I’ve found that this makes my palettes more cohesive and adds depth to the skin

6. so I can’t really finish this piece because I have to start working on commissions again, but after an hour ish of blocking and blending, you should end up with this

and then if you continue and blend a whole lot more, you’ll end up having something more like this!

also, little lasso tool guide

to lay down the colors you’ve gotta click the brush, personally I like to freehand instead of color drop, but you do you

finally, if you aren’t satisfied, you can either 1) merge all of your layers and add a gradient map, or 2) merge your layers, duplicate your new layer, add a gradient map at 100%, and change your canvas blending mode to soft light + change the layer opacity. this’ll make your piece more vibrant and cohesive

[auramindedd]

Fixed? Never - SMAU*

Part 3

CorpseHusband x FemReader

Warnings: cussing

A/N: again, any posts with a “ * ” attached to “smau” has writing in it. imma focus A LOT more on just the social media n message perspective, but y/n n corpse meet in this part soooo i had to add some writing :) something else b4 i forget; i’m updating my masterlist and changing it into a directory post that way you guys can also request through a google form! i’ll have requests open at all times unless i get too stressed out or if they overfill. due to me changing my masterlist, there’s gonna be about 6 posts i think. also,, thank you guys so much for 600 followers! i’ve been hitting a bunch of milestones and haven’t been remembering to say thank you, but just know that i appreciate every single one of you... also i love reading y’all’s comments 😭

🤍 directory

🕊 previous

☁️ next

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You make sure you’re set up before 6 PM, which was probably a mistake. You can’t sit still, you’re starting to get nervous, and you kind of just want to run away to McDonald’s.

Sure, you know Ludwig, Dream, and Rae, but it feels like you’re at school all over again. That anxious feeling of having to be with people while your best friends aren’t around.

You’re leg is bouncing, your nails are tapping on your desk, and you can’t stop running your hand through your hair. It probably looks like a fucking bird nest by now.

You start streaming, deciding that maybe talking to your supporters will make things a bit better.

“Hey, loves,” You greet in a not so Y/N-fashioned way. Of course, the chat catches on, and you’re being called out for it. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that your supporters know how you usually are.

@user: What happened to, “Hey, bitches!”

@user: Ou, someone is nervous.

Yeah, they obviously know you very well.

“Alright, let’s start over.” You clear your throat for dramatic effect because, well, when are you not dramatic? “Hey, bitches!” Yup, even you know that just feels right.

After a while of talking to your supporters, Rae sends you the Discord invite and the Among Us code. You join, feeling your nerves start to come back.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims in excitement when she sees you’ve joined the Among Us lobby.

“Hi,” You say, shyness lacing your voice.

“Oh my God! The cutest voice.” Jack says. Wow, what a compliment coming from the Jack_Septic_Eye.

You take time to introduce yourself to everyone, trying to calm your nerves.

“Are we gonna start?” Ludwig’s impatient ass asks.

“We’re waiting for Corpse.” Rae explains.

Shit, another person you have to introduce yourself to?

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets quickly, very obviously racing to be the first to say hi to Corpse.

“Hey, Sykkuno,” Corpse chuckles, and woah, the last thing you expected. You can’t help but be surprised, and you know it’s showing on your face. Why? Because your supporters are teasing you in the chat.

“Corpse,” Rae says in a sing-songy tone. “This is Y/N.” And your heart drops to your fucking stomach. Every single time it happens when you have to meet someone, but now your heart is beating even faster because you’re obviously the only one who hasn’t met Corpse. They’re all expecting a reaction out of you...

“Hey, Y/N.” His deep, husky voice says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it helps ease your nerves.

“Hi,” You greet, shyness still lacing your voice.

Corpse chuckles, “So cute.” Now you’re blushing. Great...

Rae starts the game, saving you before the others can start teasing you.

Crewmate.

You’ve only played Among Us once, in a public server with Dream, George, Karl, and Alex, and then you got bullied for not knowing what the fuck to do.

To say the least, you’re pretty glad to be Crewmate and not Impostor.

“Y/N!” Jack shouts, walking up to you. You slightly jump, forgetting they’re playing with Proximity Chat.

“Jack!” You shout back, letting his astronaut catch up to you.

“We were expecting a reaction.” He says, and of course they were.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I feel like he hears it a lot, don’t want to add on to the list of Things People Say To Him Everyday.”

“Yeah, he’s probably very grateful for that.”

“Grateful for what?” Charlie walks up to you two.

“Nothing,” Jack drawls. You’ve just met Charlie, but you know that he’d tease both you and Corpse about one another’s voices.

“Oh, I know!” Charlie exclaims, but before he can say what he knows-

“Okayyy! That’s enough interaction with Charlie for today.” Jack says, and you take that as a, ‘Walk the fuck away now, Y/N!’

You walk around, trying your best to finish tasks, but when it comes to the card swipe in Admin, you want to quit life as a whole.

“Ugh, I fucking quit.” You groan, slamming your hands on your desk. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes through on your headphones.

“Having trouble?” Corpse teases.

“Yeah. I wanna rip every strand of my fucking hair out.”

“Swipe it slower.” And with that, you try again. Voila! Just like magic.

“Well if I would’ve fucking known.” You groan, Corpse chuckling.

“Here, I can help you with the game.”

“Yes, please, I don’t know shit about it.”

“You know, you cuss a lot for having such a sweet, innocent, and cute voice.” Corpse laughs.

“Yeah,” You drawl. “I know, bad fucking habit.” You slap your hand over your mouth. How does someone cuss in every sentence? Get a filter, damn.

Corpse walks around with you as you both finish tasks, explaining how the game works, and giving you tips for when you do end up being an Impostor.

Honestly, you could listen to his voice all day. He’s also really sweet.

“What are you two up to?” Brooke asks, doing tasks in Electrical with you two. Corpse told you to make sure you’re always aware of your surroundings when you’re in Electrical. So, naturally, you’re freaking out, but silently and internally.

“Brooke,” Corpse warns. He doesn’t even have time to finish his warning. Brooke kills him, his body flopping over, the one bone sticking out from the top of his body. Your mouth falls open.

“Hey, Y/N. Let’s be besties!” You don’t know what to do, but ay, #girlsupportinggirls, right? So, you walk with her. She helps you along the way, also telling you tips on the game, explaining how everything works. Then, after about a minute, a whole 60 seconds, Corpse’s body is reported.

“Why Corpse? Such an innocent man with a beautiful voice.” Lud fake cries.

“Get over it,” Brooke says.

“It’s Brooke! Brooke’s an Impostor!” Lud shouts.

“What? No! I was with Y/N for a lot of this round.” Brooke defends herself, and oh fuck, who the fuck do you defend? You’ve just met both of them, one of them will possibly hate you forever.

“Y/N?” Sykkuno grabs your attention, snapping you out of your thinking.

“Yeah, she was. She wouldn’t have had time to kill Corpse. Where was the body?” Well, there you go, potentially ruining yours and Corpse’s blooming friendship. Sad Girl Hour, type beat.

“In Electrical,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, no way she would’ve had to time to kill him.”

Nobody’s voted out. Brooke hasn’t even told you who the second Impostor is so, you don’t know if you should stay with her or not.

As you and Brooke are walking around, or skipping as she sees it, and holding hands, Dream pops out of a vent. Well, there’s Imposter two.

“Woah! Dream, way to out yourself out.” You tease, throwing your head back and laughing.

“Please, you’ve been with Brooke the whole time. Don’t say anything.” Dream begs, making you and Brooke giggle.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” He starts walking away from you guys, but not without finishing his sentence that you thought was already finished. “Cutie.” And there, finished.

Fucking finished! Tweedle-dee, tweedle dum! Whoopty-fucking-do! Fan-fucking-tastic! A-fucking-mazing!

And of course you’re blushing for the whole 80,000+ people watching to tease you about.

“Oh my God!” Brooke squeals. “What was that?!”

“I’ll explain later,”

•*•*•*•*•

“Y/N, how could you?” Corpse says, offended.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do.”

“She’s my enemy, Y/N. We were supposed to stick together. I told you some tips and tricks, explained how to be a badass Impostor, everything!” Wow, he’s a good fucking actor.

“I can very well do the same thing, bitch.” Brooke spits, all in a playful manner - you hope...

“Not better than me, bitch.” Corpse retorts, his astronaut getting closer.

•*•*•*•*•

Imposter.

With Corpse.

Great.

Your enemy. Or as he put it, “Enemy who he can maybe, and most likely, will become friends with in the near future.”

“Follow,” He says, and even though he’s your enemy, you do.

“I gotta do my own thing.”

“You don’t know how to do shit.” Corpse scoffs.

“Okay then, what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Double kills, all the way, but only when we meet up with each other. So, right now, we’ll both go our own ways, but when we see each other again, we’ll walk to a pair and do a double kill if we can.” Corpse explains.

“Brooke told me not to do double kills often. It won’t help get through a game.”

Corpse snorts, “Brooke doesn’t know dog shit about this game.”

“Fine,” You groan, going along with it only because you don’t know dog shit about the game either.

As Corpse explained, you two do double kills every time you meet up. You two managed to get double kills where people rarely go - Shields, Comms, and the top of Cafeteria.

After killing Rae and Sykkuno, the game ends. You made sure to leave Brooke and Dream alive.

“Period, we did that!” You exclaim, everyone else groaning and complaining about how you two should never be an Impostor duo again. “But I still fucking hate you because you hate me!”

“Exactly!” Corpse retorts in the same tone as you.

•*•*•*•*•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist - comment or message me to be added!

* if your username is in bold, please reach out to me; you’re at risk of having your username removed that way i can clear space for other tags. *

@cherry-piee @littlered00 @sunnywinterdays @strang-ersclub @callmemaeve-y @powerpuffyn @kusuinko @where-thesundoesntshine @letglimmersayfuck @coryisagee @a-dot-dev @ifilosemyselfagain @tayloryorkscurls @lex-prplatmngrl @letsloveimagines @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @smiithys @mikayladoesntknow @clubfairy @mirahg @thurstyforholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @majasophieanna

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Tags - ignore::

[alexandenigtscreations]

Chapters: 5/7 Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Summary:

Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev make a good team. But when a bank job goes horribly wrong, the injured pair are forced to lay low and hope the Carte Blanche can make it back to them in time.

(Note: Bold Italic script indicates Nureyev speaking Brahmese) 

Chapter 5

“God Damnit Thief!  Pick up your damned coms when the bloody doctor calls!"

"Again, apologies Vespa, I-" he coughed weakly into his hand, tripoding over his knees.

"Do you know how many times I had to call you?  Do you?"  

Nureyev sighed "Afraid not-"

"Seven !  Seven goddamn times!  Thought you were dead !  Or Steel!  Or captured or whatever!  We're in enough crap as it is without you two adding to the pile!"

“Vespa, I-”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, Thief; I swear to god I’ll snap your scrawny neck!"

"I'm-" he caught himself mid apology, "Understood-"

"I haven't heard Steel's voice, where is he?"

"Juno's- sleeping." Which is what he himself had been doing up to the moment Vespa rang. Stupid- a rookie mistake-

"Oh?  And how sure are you of that thief?"

Nureyev wiped the sweat off of his face, "I'm sure-" it had been the first thing he checked when the beeping of the comms woke him.  Even from here he could see the frantic rise and fall of Juno's chest.  The lady wasn't doing well.  

"Completely."  He coughed harder into an elbow.

Vespa sniff on the other end of the line.  Plainly suspicious, but that was nothing new.

"Fine, now you're on, we can get back to business…."  There was a clatter outside, his head snapped towards it ".... temperature down, or it can cause…." and another- "gotta make sure he's in the recovery…" and another and confound it all Nureyev, focus!  He shook himself back to the conversation just in time for Vespa to say "Did you get that Thief?"

"Hmm?  I ugh-" he floundered.  No, no he had not gotten it, and was just about to say so when he heard voices-

Lord, not now, please not now-

"Thief?"

Nureyev limped to a window.  Even in the dim light of the street lamps, he could make out the security uniforms of Galactic Stars First Bank.  

No-

Anxiety spiked his chest, making him queasy- or perhaps he already was-

Juno was in danger.  That much, he was certain of.  To say nothing about himself.

He glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping lady.  Even with his features pinched and weary, he was beautiful-  

And vulnerable-

Plans began to formulate in his mind.  His first impulse was to find some crevice to hide in, to disappear.  But even with Juno’s help, he only just managed to get him to the sofa last time-  If they were found- well, he didn’t want to find out what they’d do to him.  

“Thief?!”

He could lure the guards inside, dispatch them quickly and save his leg the trouble-  But no, that would be too messy.  To say nothing of Juno’s sensibilities, inviting guards into their hiding spot introduced more blind variables than he’d care to gamble with.

Which left luring them away- Sharp teeth worried away at his bottom lip.  The injury would make things- challenging.  But he didn’t have to be fast.  After all, it was a fool who thought the best getaway vehicle was the fastest-  

What he needed now was a strategy; and to know how many employees he’d have to contend with.  

“God Damnit Ransom, the hell-”

“Apologies Vespa, I need Rita.”

“What?!”

“Ha-How many guards, am I dealing with- Rita?” Nureyev grimaced, pressing his back tight to the apartment's tinker toy brickwork.  Rita’s voice was going fuzzy around the edges, as though muffled.

It had been harder than anticipated to pick his way past the patrolling guards, yet alone work his way out of the safe house.

“Two, maybe four in your sector Mista Ransom.”

“Which is it? ”

“Hugh?”

“Which is it?  The- er- two, or the four?” there was a throb of pain that made his breath hitch.  Along with that ever present burning, biting its way deep.  

“Not sure but- are- are you alright Mista Ransom?”

“I- am a tad worse for wear.  Which is why I’d like to resolve this matter quickly.”

“Ohhh, ohh right!  Well Rita can help with that!”

“Thank you Rita.  Now- which way to the two or four individuals?”

He allowed Rita to guide him through the quiet streets.  She informed him that a dome wide lockdown had been initiated while the intruders were at large.  Sure enough, when he tried a few doors in passing, they refused to yield under his touch.  The citizens took the lockdown seriously.  

Nureyev made sure to make plenty of noise. He needed a show if he wanted this plan to work.  What worried him was that he was only half acting as he stumbled his way over the cobbles on a stiff leg.  He allowed himself to knock into bins and topple items into cars.  The noise he raised wasn’t loud, per say, but it was conspicuous on the quiet streets.  

“Where are these guards Rita?”

“They’ll be coming up any minute Mista Ransom, you just keep your eyes Peeled!  Make a right up here-” she directed “Peeled, hugh, ever consider what a weird thing it is to say.  That you should keep your eyes peeled?   I mean you do that and your eyes ain't gonna be good no more, least of all you.  Oh!  But there was this one stream where the monster worked its way out of a beautiful man!  Which was such a waist but what do I know about streams?  And its eyes were doing this crazy-”

“Any- minute?” he was starting to have doubts about using his own injured self as bait. He filed that deep in his mind.

“What?  Oh!  Yeah!  You got some baddies commin’ up right behind you.”

“Behind- Are you sure?” he panted.  

“Yeah of course I’m sure Mista Ransom!”

A quick turn confirmed Rita’s intel.  He was indeed being followed.  

They shouted something at his back, and Nureyev picked up his pace to a skip-hop, while his pursuers broke into a run.   A plasma bolt shot past his ear, sending a jolt of adrenaline through.  In answer he flipped over several barrels.  They cascaded into the small space, messing the ally nicely.  That should slow them down some.  It had to.

There was no time to pay attention to the ache of his lungs or the fire coursing through his leg.  Even as each step pushed him that much closer to being physically ill.  

File it away, Damn you- just file it away-

He screwed his eyes shut and pushed forward.  Forcing himself to keep moving, to keep breathing, to keep-

He plowed headlong into an old chain link fence with enough force to knock him to the ground with a strangled cry.  The traitorous links rattled and clinked all the way up to their restraints.  As if to add insult to injury, they stretched maybe ten, fifteen feet in the air.  There wasn’t a hope of making it over before his acquaintances caught up.  

“Mista Ransom?!” Rita sounded scared, she’d even stopped typing.  “What happened?”

“There’s-” he coughed “There’s a- barrier- ” There was another word, a better word, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of it.  It was taking all his effort to push upright on shaking arms, threading his fingers into the wire mesh to haul himself to his feet.  

“A barrier?  Like a wall or a buildin’ or somethin?  None of that is showing up on my schema-”

“A fence- Is there another way round?”  He took a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry but, there isn’t anythin’ on the map.  Ya gotta get to the other side before ya have options.  Can’t you like, break through or somethin?”

Break through, of course, Nureyev could kick himself; it was so simple.  He extracted one of his plasma cutters from a pocket, heat humming through the blade.  In the end, it wasn’t even a good fence.  The blade made quick work of the links, slicing through them as one might margarine.  

Another blaster shot forced him through the cherry red ruin of a hole before it had a chance to cool.  He brought his arm up, shielding his face even as the sharp edges racked along his coat, hitting his leg- he hissed, nausea threatening to overtake him.  

“Mista Ransom?”

He scrambled to the other side, barely keeping upright.  

“Mista Ransom!  You’ve got more company comin’ straight at you!”

“What-” his voice cracked in exhaustion.  Through the gloom, he could just make out the second pair barreling down the narrow passage.  He could hear them barking orders at him now, probably instructing him to surrender or other such nonsense that he had no intention of following.  

“They’ve brought reinforcements!  They’re gonna’ block your escape roots!”

“Reinforcements?”

“There’s at least four more heading straight at you!”

Nureyev glanced back and spotted the first pair shoving through the debris.  Then that would make six-  Six on one, he didn’t like those odds.  A wrong step sent a jolt through him, his weakened leg nearly buckling under his weight sending him into a wall.  Again the world went fuzzy, blood rushing to his ears.

He wondered if the Carte Blanche really would come back for him if he’d got captured.  Something made him doubt it even as he shoved the ugly thought deep into a file.  

Think Nureyev.

Time, he needed time.  A had drifted to the modest arsenal on his chest.  There were a few smoke bombs he hadn’t touched, but the situation called for something more dire-

He plucked a pepper grenade from the clip, lobbing it over the fence with the practiced ease of one who’d spent hours on throwing knives.  Smoke tracked it’s flight through the air.  It struck the ground at the guard’s feet.  They yelled, scrambling back just as it erupted.  The choking fumes swallowed them in seconds.  

Nureyev was no longer paying mind to them, attention bent entirely at the remaining guards.  Four on one were more....manageable.  

He rushed the closest set, drawing a twin to his first blade wheeling them in tandem.  The man was no fighter, as soon as he got into their space, the man shrank back, his blaster forgotten.  

A tingling burn flushed across exposed skin making his heart plummet.  He’d made a mistake.  Nureyev hadn't accounted for the wind-

Spurred by the change in fortune, Nureyev dispatched the man quickly; maneuvering out of the way as he crumpled.  Life’s blood spilled over the cobbles soon obscured by smoke.

Smoke?  

Twisting and contorting, the smoke seemed to grow till it engulfed everything in its path.  Pouring down the cramped space.  The remaining guards tried to run, but were soon overtaken, same as the Thief.

Nureyev's throat closed against the onslaught.  He gagged and coughed over the very air, vision hopelessly obscured by tears.  The only good news was that he could hear his attackers do the same.  Panic began to fog his reason.  

He no longer noticed the burning of his skin or eyes, or the way his nose was running; no longer could feel the pain in his leg.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn't breathe .  The single thought spun round and round in his brain, desperately trying to figure a way around it.  He clung to the wall with every ounce of strength he possessed.  The coughing picked up even harder now till his chest crushed in like a deflated balloon.

Try as he will, his lungs would not expand.  There was simply no more air.

“Mista Ransom?” Rita, in the coms!  Rita who was still very much with him.  There was hope!  

Just then a hand clenched around a fistful of his hair, dragging Nureyev lower still.  He’d been found, even in a place like this, they’d still found him.  The employees of Galactic Stars First Bank were more like his creditors than Nureyev liked.  Even now she was growling at him in anger.  

Though he couldn’t understand the language, he knew she was asking questions.  Her breaths were short and forced yet still she managed to talk.  Had he not been in the grips of fear, he would have found her admirable.  

“Mista Ransom?!”

Through his bleary eyes, he could make out the cyan glow of a blaster pointed down under his nose.  She meant to shoot him, but was hesitating.  At any other time, he'd wonder why-  Instead he reached up to claw, to cling at her wrist, still with a grip on his knives.  She twisted and he bowed lower, leg quaking, his hand slipped and-

“Ah!” she squealed as his plasma blade bit into her arm, flinging  him back to a wall.  The impact miraculously forced air back into his lungs.  Though as soon as he got it, his body started to cough it back up.  Furiously he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to hold it in.

It didn't work.

“Mista Ransom!” If Rita had sounded scared before, that was nothing compared to now.  Her voice was small and tentative in a way that would break any heart.  Even so, he latched onto her voice with everything he was worth.  

The light of the guard's weapon danced before him.  She may have been hurt, but she wasn’t down yet.  What’s worse was that she seemed to be calling for backup.  

The blade sang out of his fingers, digging itself into her thigh. This time she screamed and hacked, scrambling for the off switch while Nureyev made his escape.  It hadn't been where he'd been aiming, but close enough.  With any luck, she'd have trouble moving for a time.  

“R-ita-” he choked out, managing tiny gasps, every one a massive effort.

“What’s going on!  Have you been Gassed!!!!!” thank stars he would not have to explain.

“Y-yes-” he gave into a violent coughing fit.

“Oh-Okay, you need me to show you the way out!”

“Yes-” the fight had turned him around, making it impossible to tell which way to go.  He wanted to be free of the smoke as soon as possible.

“Can Do!  Oh!  This is just like one of those Spy streams like- well, never mind that right now.  Alright Mista Ransom, I’m gonna need you to move forwards about a hundred meters.” She instructed conspiratorially.  He obliged, thankful to leave the thinking to her.  Using the wall to keep him straight.  “Be careful when you reach the fork!” she cautioned “The passage on your left has a few baddies, the one on your right is clear!”  

On his right- he could just make out two voids stretching before him.  Stealing his resolve he propelled himself right and mercifully broke through the miasma.  He crashed into a dumpster, nearly running smack into the center of another set of guards.  

It had been the wrong way.  

There would be no time to recover, no time for rest.  Furiously he wiped his eyes and gulped down recycled air.  

Rita shrieked in his ear, “Not your right, my right!” but he had no choice but to tune her out.  

The fresh opponent rushed him, their partner charging their blaster.  Nureyev stumbled back towards the smoke, just managing to use his attacker’s momentum to spin them round into their partner.  Their partner roared, firing shots off at random as they fell.  Blaster spun out of their grip on impact.  A stray bolt savaged one of Nureyev’s coat pockets, scattering it’s contents on the stones.  Hopefully there wouldn’t have been anything important in there.  

Nureyev readjusted his knife grip and threw at the tangle of limbs.  One of the figures stilled.  He hobbled towards them as fast as he could, retrieving the blade.  He’d already lost one and that was one too many.  

It was a mistake.

Pain shot through his leg making him cry out.  He fell hard separated anew from his weapon.  He’d been struck down by the spare guard.  They spat words that were sure to be insults as they disentangled themselves from the motionless body.

Nureyev gasped, twisting away towards the fallen blaster.  It had landed some distance away, but one advantage of long limbs was reach-  The guard growled and caught his foot, drawing him backwards.  He kicked out and the hands clawed higher.  It seemed they both were trying for the same weapon.

"Let go- " Nureyev bit out attempting to dislodge the guard.

"Never, scum- " they shot back in perfect Brahmese.  Before that could sink in, fingers jammed into his bandages, into the wound-  Nureyev keened, paralyzed by the shock of it.  

First rule of thriving Pete, you can't afford to be loud.

Rita shrieked all the louder.  Nureyev was at once hot and cold and utterly overwhelmed..  He knew he was hurt, thank you, he knew it!  He could do without the constant reminders.  

The guard made use of their opportunity by clambering over Nureyev.  Hand planted on his spine, pushing him down.  The thief refused to let it be that easy; scanning for something, anything he could use-

There!

His pocket knife!  

Nureyev’s arm shot out, scooping up the tool and flicking it open.  He twisted, simultaneously throwing them off and swiping upwards.  The blade bit into cloth and flesh.  They reared back startled, leaving Nureyev to wriggle free.  On hands and knees he scrambled to the blaster.  

Nureyev may not have the skills of a certain lovely sharp shooter, but at a distance like this, he couldn't miss.  

The stunner went straight to their chest and all went quiet.  He folded over, resting his forehead on the damp of the grimy street, forcing down bile once more.

"Mista Ransom!!!  Oh Mista Ransom!  Are you there?  Please say you're there, cuz I'm not sure how I could face the boss if I…."

"Rita-"

"....got you blown up or somethin, cuz know I'd miss you oh so much but Boss- oh I couldn't imagine-"

"I'm- ha- I'm fine- Rita-" he tried again, louder this time.  His voice was thick and rough, entirely unlike the persona he’d been so careful to maintain around the crew.

There was a loud clatter from the other end and a sharp intake of breath.  It sounded as though Rita knocked something over "Mista Ransom!  You ought to feel ashamed!  Scaring a girl like that!  Don’t you know that-" she cut off abruptly “Ugh oh, Mista Ransom!  You gotta get out of there, stat!  There are reinforcements on the way and I don't think they are too happy!”

Nureyev groaned and thanked Rita.  He supposed it was a lucky thing that he was so averse to capture.  It had been a long time since cold stone had been so welcoming.  

“What are you waiting’ for Mista Ransom?”

“N-nothing- Rita.  Merely -becoming acquainted with the cobble work.” he murmured.  In truth, he was drained to his core.  His head was spinning, body aching, leg burning and he was just so- thirsty.  There was at least something he could do about the last one, but not for a while, and not without getting up.  The entire distraction had taken far more out of him than anticipated.  

“Mista Ransom, you know I don’t speak nothin but Solar-” she started, but he wasn’t listening.  

Distraction.  His mind snagged on the word.

That was right, he was luring Galactic Star’s First Bank away from Juno.  Juno, gorgeous, wonderful Juno who’d taken a poison dart for him, who needed him right now.  

Nureyev had to get back to him, no matter what.  

In the end, Nureyev had trusted Rita to guide him back to the safe house.  She’d insisted after he nearly ran into another set of guards.  He was too tired to fight.  More than once considering folding himself up into a corner and waiting for the excitement to die down.  Moving in the open like this- didn't sit well with him.  

It took a lot longer to return to the grubby street of the safe house, and longer still to check and recheck he hadn’t been followed or bugged.  

“Thank you again- Rita-”  Privately he vowed to do something nice for her if and when they’d return to the ship.

“Oh and Mista Ransom?”

“Hm?”

“Take care of yourself, alright?  Ya make Mista Steel real happy- and- and I want ya both back in one piece okay?”

Nureyev was taken aback for a moment, mind blanking over the words.  It was- touching, and he had no idea what to do with that.  

He cleared his throat.  “I will do everything in my power to make that happen.” and he meant it.  

[Special thanks to Scarlet_Trust who got me excited about this again.  Please, Please go over and read their wonderful works!]

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XIX

A/n: So, the laws of physics are broken twice in this chapter to add some dramatic flare to it. Just wanted to say in case I get some comments that say, "That's not how physics works." Besides that, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! Love you all!!! ••••••••••••••••••••

It was the day of the rite. Gladio, Ignis, Prompto, and (Y/n) were rushing around the city as Lady Lunafreya gave her speech. They went door to door, telling everyone to evacuate the city. Some families were more stubborn than others, but they hadn't had an issue just yet. Eventually, the group went their separate ways to cover more ground. Gladio went west, Ignis traveler north, Prompto wandered south, and (Y/n) took it upon herself to evacuate the people on the eastern side of the city.

The spirit came to a halt in front of the many houses within the eastern part of Altissia. The low humming of engines caught her attention. Looking up, she saw imperial drop ships and dreadnoughts flying overhead. They were heading in the direction of the altar. She knew Lady Lunafreya's speech ended and it was about time for the Oracle to call upon Leviathan. She could hear the boys through her earpiece, but she ignored them and continued evacuating the city.

Knocking on one door, (Y/n) waited for someone to answer. A few seconds later, a woman opened the door. The guardian told her to gather her family and head to the docks. She watched the woman run rampantly around her house to tell her family. The girl didn't leave until she saw the entire family evacuate the house and run towards the docks.

Moving on to the house next door, she saw the family was already prepared to leave. Apparently, word was spreading around the city and people were evacuating left and right without needing to be told. It made her job easier and she was able to ensure everyone was heading towards the docks.

While assisting one family with an elderly woman who could barely walk, (Y/n) was forced to use a fire spell when imperial troopers ran towards the civilians with their guns raised. She yelled at them to keep running before attacking the adversaries. Using the Creator's Blade, she sliced through the imperial forces. None of the soldiers were able to harm any of the civilians due to her killing them swiftly.

Making a mad dash to the docks, the guardian ensured everyone safely made it onto the boats. She assisted a single mother with a baby in her arms aboard one of the boats and helped a father find the son he became separated from because of the large crowd.

People continued to jump aboard the many ships at the docks until each and every one was at max capacity. As the boats left the docks, (Y/n)'s attention was drawn in the direction of the altar when a high-pitched screech echoed throughout Altissia. From where she stood, she could see the mighty Leviathan. A faint tinge of pain courses through her body, knowing it was Brahma reacting to the Tidemother's appearance.

Her attention was torn away from the Tidemother as more imperial troopers and MTs closed in on the docks. The ships had yet to reach open waters and were still in danger. She waved her hand, forming a wall of fire between the docks and the enemies. "You bastards got another thing coming if you think I'm going to let you through."

The imperial troopers raised their guns, aiming them at her. She prepared herself to attack the moment they pulled the triggers. However, at the sound of gunshots, she lowered her blade as she watched the enemies fall one by one. As the final MT fell without her lifting a finger, it revealed the person who came to her aid.

Prompto rushed over to the spirit when the imperial forces were dead. Dispelling his pistol, he caught his breath. As he did, she saw his panicked and worried expression. Her curiosity and concern skyrocketed, placing a hand on his back to help calm him. "I've never seen you so out of breath before. What's wrong, Prom?"

"I...we...Gladio..." He panted, but was unable to form a proper sentence. Pressing a hand against his chest, he took a few deep breaths to fill his lungs. Once his breathing was back to normal, he grabbed her upper arms. "We've gotta get out of here. That thing that guy told us about yesterday... It's real."

Her golden eyes widened. "You saw it?"

"I-I don't even know where to begin on how to describe it..." Prompto's grip on her arms tightened. "Gladio and I saw it when some imperial soldiers captured a guardian and..and..."

(Y/n) already knew what he was going to say. "So I was right. They're using the rite as a distraction to feed guardians to that thing."

"W-We tried to help, but we were too late."

Suddenly, they heard an ominous hiss echo around them. Prompto's eyes widen in horror while the spirit looks around in confusion. Without hesitating, the boy dragged (Y/n) away from the docks and towards an abandoned building with shattered windows. No doubt the damage was caused by the empire when they started prowling the streets for civilians. By the layout of the building, they assumed it was a restaurant. Tables with white clothes and wooden chairs were strewn about. Broken glass was scattered across the floor along with silverware.

Hiding behind the counter of the bar, Prompto reclined his back against the stained wood with (Y/n) sitting between his legs. Her back was pressed against his chest, his arms wound around her waist. She was still utterly confused at the situation. "Prompto, what is—?" One of his hands shot up and covered her mouth.

"It's here," he whispered in her ear.

Hearing the ominous hiss they heard earlier, their bodies tensed up. Prompto hugged (Y/n) closer when realizing the sound was coming from outside the building. Then, they heard what sounded like a mix between a snarl and hiss. Along with the strange noise, they could hear the chairs and tables moving around. Even the shards of broken glass scraping against the floor was part of the cacophony. A few of the bottles that were on top of the bar were knocked off. Their bodies were hit with the shrapnels of glass and what little alcohol remained inside the now shattered bottles.

(Y/n)'s eyes darted to the side when she spotted movement. There was a tentacle-like appendage snaking around the side of the bar. She also took note of the other two black tendrils trying to reach over the bar. She held her breath as the one tentacle sneaking around from the side was closing in on their location. She retracted her foot carefully and quietly when the appendage was nearing it.

Prompto saw how close the tendril was coming and tried to slide further away without making any noise. However, his attention was drawn to the tentacle that was protruding over the bar and making its way down near his arm. He wondered what they could do to escape before either of them were grabbed.

The moment one tentacle slid across her foot and up her leg, (Y/n) grabbed one of the many bottles of liquor stored under the bar and tossed it onto the tentacle. Once the bottle shattered and spilled alcohol all over the appendage, she ignited it with a simple fire spell. As the creature attached to the other end of the tentacles wailed out in pain and tried to put the fire out, she yanked Prompto's hand off her mouth and dragged him to his feet. She pulled him out of the tattered restaurant through the back entrance and they ran in the opposite direction.

Once they were safely away from the creature, the couple caught their breath. (Y/n) glances at the street they ran down to see the daemon wasn't following them. "Okay, so that thing has tentacles. Nice to know. I really don't wanna see what's on the other end of them, though..."

"I-I can't believe that thing's able to survive in the sunlight..." Prompto panted.

"If this "devourer" is absorbing the power of guardians, that's probably why the sunlight isn't killing it."

Prompto was silent for a few seconds before stating what they should do next. "We gotta find Gladio and Iggy." He contacted the two older boys using the earpiece. Once learning where to go, they ran through the streets once again.

Because of the raging Tidemother, parts of Altissia were crumbling. Many streets were impassible due to piles of debris and other parts of the city were inaccessible because the bridges that connected the districts were destroyed.

Eventually, Prompto and (Y/n) reconvened with Gladio. They stood in the middle of a plaza with a demolished fountain. The shield's nose scrunched up. "You two smell like a bar."

"We had a run in with the empire's new creation," (Y/n) explained. "We wound up hiding in a restaurant behind the bar."

"That thing's a monstrosity."

"I haven't seen its face yet, but I hope I never do."

"Let's forget about that thing for now and focus on finding Iggy."

The trio weaves through the streets of Altissia, destroying any imperial forces they stumble across. Before long, they rendezvous with Ignis on one of the few bridges left intact from the empire and Leviathan. While they were discussing what to do next since none of them could reach Noctis over the comms, a drop ship was knocked out of the sky and came hurtling towards them. Prompto immediately grabbed (Y/n) and ran to avoid being killed. Gladio followed the couple just in time as the drop ship crashed into the bridge. The three were unscathed, but they were unable to find Ignis. They desperately tried to contact the strategist, but weren't able to reach him.

After a few minutes of trying over and over again, Ignis finally responded. They were relieved he was safe. After discussing what to do next, they knew they needed to head to the altar. Unfortunately, their one way across to the next district was destroyed.

"Guess we're gonna need to find a different way across," Prompto said.

"Hey, short stuff." Gladio turned to the guardian. "Think you could jump across with us on your back?"

(Y/n) analyzed the size of the gap before answering. "I think I can." In seconds, she transformed. Prompto and Gladio climbed onto her back. Once they were on, she backed up a little ways to get a running start. With enough speed, she leapt over the destroyer portion of the bridge and landed safely on the other side. The boys slid off her back so she could return to her human form.

"Nice job," Gladio commented. "Now let's get our asses to the altar."

Their long journey through the crumbling streets of Altissia began. They lost count of how many times they had to find a new route because of the destroyed streets and buildings. Many imperial forces pulled their journey to a screeching halt, blocking their way forward. Like before, they disposed of the enemies before continuing to the altar.

While trying to find a way into another district, the trio stumbled upon a collapsed bridge. Unlike the other bridges they'd seen, this one had a slither of it remaining that was big enough for them to cross. Gladio, being the heaviest out of the three, volunteered to go first. If it could support his weight, (Y/n) and Prompto would have no issues crossing.

Once Gladio safely made it across, Prompto was the next to trek across the narrow slither of bridge followed by (Y/n). The marksman made it to the other side and turned around to ensure the guardian was close behind.

The moment she reached the halfway point, a black tendril shot out of the water from below. It wrapped around her leg and dragged her into the water. She couldn't even scream with how fast it had grabbed and yanked her into the water below. Prompto and Gladio watched in horror. Without thinking, the blonde jumps into the water. The shield shouted his name as he dove beneath the surface.

(Y/n) struggled against the tendril as it dragged her deeper into the water. She glanced down and saw the horror that was the devourer. The daemon has three skeletal heads with a prolonged spine-like body. What appeared to be a large rib cage spanned from its upper back to its lower back. It has two sets of skeletal arms and a pair of boney legs. Attached to its ribcage appeared to be a black sack. From the black sack extended an esophagus-like appendage that attached to each of the heads. The tentacles she was all too familiar with by now protruded from the black sack. What caught her attention the most was the myriads of gemstones embedded in its skeletal body. They were the gemstones of all the guardians it had consumed.

Struggling against the tentacle wrapped around her leg, (Y/n) desperately tried to free herself as she was dragged closer and closer towards the middle head. Its jaw was open wide and ready to devour her. She wasn't sure if she'd die from being eaten or drowning.

As that dark thought crossed her mind, an arm wrapped around her waist. She saw it was Prompto. In his other hand, he wielded his pistol. He aimed at the tentacle and pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed through the water and pierced the tendril. Black blood oozed from the bullet wound, coloring the water around it. The devourer's three mouths opened as its tentacle retracted, releasing the guardian.

Prompto and (Y/n) quickly swam back to the surface before either of them could be grabbed. Breaking through the surface, they both coughed. After a small coughing fit, they swam over to where Gladio was waiting for them. The shield helped them out of the water.

(Y/n) collapsed against the ground on her back, coughing up some more water. Her chest rose and fell rapidly after expelling the last remnants of water in her lungs. She stared up at the sky as it darkened with storm clouds. Prompto was on his knees beside her. He peered down into her face, placing one of his hands on her cheek. "A-Are you okay, (Y/n)?"

She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, all thanks to you."

Gladio leant down slightly and smacked the marksman on the back. "Never knew you had the balls to pull off a stunt like that."

Prompto glanced over his shoulder at the brute. "There's no way I was gonna let that thing have her."

"The boy's become a man," Gladio chortled.

With Prompto's help, (Y/n) got back to her feet. Her eyes were focused on the water. She could see the devourer swimming to the surface. "We better get out of here." The moment she lifted her gaze, she spotted a figure on the other side of the destroyed bridge. It was Callyx, standing with his sword drawn and a smirk in his face. Her fingers twitched, ready to summon the Creator's Blade at any second. However, the male guardian didn't engage. He simply turned his back and walked away.

At that exact moment, the devourer's three heads broke through the surface of the water with an eerie wail. The trio quickly spun on their heels and made a mad dash away from the artificial daemon. They thought they were safe until they heard the devourer closing in on them. Even before they saw the daemon, its tentacles shot forward.

(Y/n) quickly spun around and conjured a large fireball. She tossed it at the appendages and forced them to retreat when each one was ignited with bright flames. She then summoned Brahma's sword and stood her ground. Prompto and Gladio noticed her fighting stance and ceased running.

"The hell're you doing?!" Gladio bellowed angrily.

"At this rate, we'll lead this thing all the way to the altar," she calmly replied.

"Can the three of us really stop that thing?" Prompto asked.

"You two are going to the altar. I'll deal with this monstrosity."

"And how're you planning to do that, short stuff?" Gladio inquired.

She smirked at him from over her shoulder. "Some divine intervention should do the trick."

Prompto wanted to protest and stay behind with her. He swallowed his words, clenching his fists tightly before unfurling them. "Just...be careful, (Y/n)."

She smiled at him. "I will."

The two boys ran off. (Y/n) focused her attention on the devourer as it began charging towards her. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled as she jammed the Creator's Blade into the ground and summoned Brahma. The moment her body was no longer hers, she dispelled all her worries and let the Astral deal with the daemon.

Brahma's form towered across the skyline of Altissia. Although he was smaller in size than Titan, his power was immeasurable. He saw the threat the devourer posed not only to guardians, but to the True King—Noctis. He loomed over the artificial creation and easily blocked any attack the daemon sent his way. The god thought it would be a simple extermination job, but he was soon joined by a large fleet of imperial air ships. Their hatches lowered, revealing the powerful weapons they used against the Archaean.

The god tried to focus on one target, but he was quickly becoming overwhelmed as more imperial drop ships flanked him. As he swatted a few of the airships out of the sky, the devourer used its large and heavy form to tackle the deity. It clawed at Brahma's chest, trying to reach (Y/n) who was residing within. The god smacked the artificial daemon off his body and returned to his full stature. Just as he did, the empire shot numerous of harpoons at him. He managed to pry one out of his body, but a powerful electrical shock courses through his body. He could feel the guardian within his chest cry out in pain.

Brahma conjured a meteor and sent it hurtling towards one of the airships. Next, he grabbed one of the harpoons in his body and yanked it out. Instead of releasing it, he used its against the empire and caused the ship it was tethered to to knock into the other ships.

With the airships now gone, the deity focused his attention back onto the devourer. Searching for the monstrosity, he found it just in time for it to pounce on him again. This time, his body was knocked into the ocean. Sinking deeper and deeper, he fought against the daemon. What happened next shocked the creator god. Leviathan emerged from the deep and aided him in battle. The Tidemother snapped her jaw around the devourer and swam to the depths with it.

Because of his lengthy battle underwater, his power was diminished and (Y/n) was drowning. His body was becoming weak and wasn't able to protect her any longer. As he was about to reach the surface, his body vanished. The girl who acted as his vessel was unconscious, her body slowly sinking into the ocean.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

[singtotheskiies]

Hi can I make a request? Scott Lang x team cap!reader where they get to know each other in the car ride during Civil War and during the fight 🤣 but like when they open the door like in the movie and he is like asleep and wakes up, the reader is like drooling on him and its funny? And after the home arrest at the end they go and visit him secretly because they escaped with the others. Sorry for my English ❤

request: Hi can I make a request? Scott Lang x team cap!reader where they get to know each other in the car ride during Civil War and during the fight 🤣 but like when they open the door like in the movie and he is like asleep and wakes up, the reader is like drooling on him and its funny? And after the home arrest at the end they go and visit him secretly because they escaped with the others. Sorry for my English ❤

summary: the civil war between the avengers may have bred a lot of tension and strife, but it brought you one good thing—scott lang.

words: 2432

warnings: none, it’s just fluff:))

a/n: scott is a literal angel bb; i got so into writing this imagine🥺🥺i hope you enjoy!!!!

✖️✖️✖️

You sit in the back of the white van, looking straight ahead at the back of Wanda’s head in front of you. Clint is driving, shoulders set stiffly, his knuckles white around the wheel. If you had to pick one word to describe the mood of the car, you would have to go with an obvious “silent.” Everyone seems grim—everyone except for Scott, who’s sitting next to you—so close, in fact, that you could feel him—

“Are you—vibrating?” you ask in disbelief, looking at him sideways.

“I—uh—you just talked to me?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh my god, wow, I definitely haven’t been waiting like years for this to happen, I mean look at you, you’re just—“

You’re full-on staring at him now, brow furrowed in confusion and amusement.

“Thanks—I think?”

“God, I just—I’m such a huge fan of yours. My daughter Cassie loves what you do, she can’t get enough of you on the news. ‘Record it, Daddy!’ she always says when you’re on, and I say, ‘Okay, peanut!’ because I want to watch you as much as she does, and—oh, lord, I’m making such a fool of myself, I’m sorry—“

“Hey, it’s okay! Just—take a breather,” you say, chuckling. “That’s—really flattering, actually. Very nice of you.”

“Oh, wow,” Scott says, and you can actually see him blush at your words. “Um, thanks—that means a lot.”

“Hey, I’ve heard of what you’ve done, too. Pretty amazing stuff,” you say, and his face practically glows.

“Aw, it’s nothing—I mean, compared to you, I’m just insignificant. Like an ant—okay, that was horrible,” he trails off. Once he sees you laughing at his unintended joke, he visibly relaxes and smiles along with you.

“You know, Scott,” you say, “I think the fact you were asked here is pretty telling of your abilities. They wouldn’t have wanted you to come if they didn’t think you were capable.” He looks down shyly, murmuring a thanks, and you grin at him. You’re beginning to get an idea of this man—adorable, dorky, determined with a heart of gold. He’s not too hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey, Scott, tell me some more about your daughter,” you say, and the two of you strike up a conversation.

At some point, Clint yells at the two of you to pipe down, muttering something about not being able to think over your laughter. Wanda just shoots you a smug look, raising her eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes at her, muttering “grumpy ol’ Clint” before turning back to Scott and talking at a reduced volume.

✖️✖️✖️

After some time, Scott notices you stifle a series of yawns. Your eyes start to droop, and he finds your slow blinks stupidly endearing. “Sleepy?” he asks softly.

You giggle, and he swears his heart bursts from how cute it is. “Yeah, a little. The car’s moving really smoothly and y—“ You trail off.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, I just—I guess your voice is pretty soothing, too,” you say, and Scott clears his throat subconsciously.

“Uh, thanks! I mean, I think that’s what I should say—sorry, it’s—that’s really nice of you, thanks,” he stutters out, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pride. You smile at him before yawning again, covering your wide-open mouth with a hand he wishes he could hold. He doesn’t think he could ever work up the courage to do that, but your compliment makes him feel a little powerful. Adrenaline rushing through him, he opens his mouth to make an offer.

“Um, if you’re—y’know—tired, you could always, like, rest your head on my shoulder if you wanted? Of course, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but it might be more comfortable than the window. Or maybe not. But, uh, offer still sta—“ His rambling is cut off by your (very soft and nice-smelling) head softly landing on the offered shoulder. He stiffens at first, unsure of how to react, but eventually leans his head onto yours, feeling your hair brush against his cheek. He fully intends to stay awake to savor every single second of your presence, but your steady breathing, soft body, and comforting smell all but force him to drift softly into sleep.

✖️✖️✖️

The sound of voices outside the van rouses you, and you start when you remember you had fallen asleep on Scott shoulder. God, how embarrassing, you think, sitting up straight. To make matters worse, there’s a dark patch on Scott’s shoulder that makes your heart drop. You couldn’t possibly have—drooled on his shoulder, could you? Hopefully he won’t notice. Looking up, you realize that the two of you are alone in the van. He’s still asleep, leaning back onto the headrest. You’re about to gently shake him awake when the van door slams open, blinding your still-sleepy eyes with daylight.

Scott jumps, also startling awake. “What time zone is this?” he asks, and you laugh before hopping out of the van and realizing that standing in front of you is the rest of your team. You nod and wave at Steve, Sam, and Bucky—you had fought with them a few times before.

Scott rushes by you, exclaiming “Captain America!” and shaking the mentioned hero’s hand vigorously. His eyes are full of adoration as he continues, “It’s an honor! I’m shaking your hand too long—“ He steps back, an awkwardly adorable smile on his face as he clumsily introduces himself to everyone else. After introductions, it‘s time to get suited up, and the two of you walk side by side.

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry for—y’know,” you say, motioning to his still-damp shoulder.

“No, it’s okay—I don’t mind. My mom always used to say that drooling meant you were sleeping really well. So I’m glad you were comfortable,” he says, laughing.

“I most certainly was,” you answer, laughing with him.

“You were so calm meeting them, I mean, wow, that’s impressive! I know you’ve fought with them before, but I would still be losing my mind if I was anywhere near Cap,” he continues.

“They’re just like the rest of us,” you say. “Powerful, yes, but also imperfect people who need help. I’m just here to provide that help.”

“Wow,” Scott says, staring at you with doe eyes. “That’s something else.”

You just smile affectionately at him.

✖️✖️✖️

Scott is speechless for a full minute when he sees you in your fighting gear. Standing stock-still in shock, he manages out a “You—look—wow—even better in person,” and you grin.

“Not too bad yourself, Lang. It suits you,” you say, before chuckling. “Now it’s my turn to make a bad pun.”

Scott manages to quirk one side of his mouth up before Cap’s voice breaks him out of his daze—time to fight.

Punching and ducking and flipping, you manage to land quite a few hits for your team. You’re getting good feedback over the comms, and you continue to fight, maneuvering around the opposing Avengers fluidly. As focused as you are on fighting, you can’t help but notice how innovative and successful Scott’s tactics are. Plus, his commentary makes you chuckle more times than you’d care to admit. One time, he’d even used your shoulder for a running jump, and feeling his tiny feet as they pounded across you was definitely an interesting experience.

There comes a point in the fight where your team needs a little momentum, and Scott offers his help without hesitating.

“I got something kind of big, but I can’t hold it for long. On my signal, run like hell. If I tear myself in half—don’t come back for me,” he says.

“He’s gonna tear himself in half?” Bucky asks.

“You’re sure about this, Scott?” Steve adds.

“Scott, that doesn’t seem reasonable,” you say, trying to conceal some of the overpowering worry in your voice. “You could really get hurt.”

From your hiding place, you can see Scott look right in your direction. “I do it all the time,” he says. “Well, once—in a lab. Then I passed out.” You shake your head at him: this doesn’t sound at all good.

“Scott!” you cry, but he’s already running, repeating “I’m the boss, I’m the boss,” in an apparent attempt to psych himself up. He jumps, landing on Rhodey’s back. In a split second, he’s the size of a building, towering over the airfield.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, staring up at him. Your attention is soon captured by Steve’s hand on your arm.

“We gotta get out of here!” He yells over the noise of the fight.

“We can’t leave Scott!” you scream back, but Steve is already dragging you toward the exit. “Hey, are you hearing me?”

“He’ll be fine!” Steve says, gripping your arm tighter. “He’s smart; he’ll figure it out!” You hear the shot of Tony’s machine heading for the two of you and duck under a car, using the opportunity to pull free of Steve’s hand. Ignoring his calls after you, you break into a run, heading back to where Scott is being tangled up by the spider-kid.

“Scott, c’mon!” you shout through the comm. “Everyone’s safe except for the two of us!”

“Y’know, I’d really like to, but this kid’s got me all tangled up,” Scott yells back. “This stuff is really sti—woah!” His giant form begins to topple, and you run instinctively, jumping and landing a hard hit on the teen—Peter, you thought.

“Sorry, kid,” you say. No hard feelings.” You turn your focus to Scott, who’s about to hit the ground. You can only pray he’s able to size down before he wrecks the whole place—and, very possibly, himself.

At the last possible moment, he shrinks to his normal height, hitting the ground with a thud that makes you wince. Without even thinking, you run to him and kneel down.

“Does anyone have any orange slices?” he quips, and in your utter relief, you wrap him in a tight hug. You notice that even after having fought, he smelled really, really good.

“Ow,” he muttered, and you pulled away.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot—“ you stammered. “Did I hurt you at all?”

“No, no, it’s all good,” he said, falling back onto the ground. “It—felt really nice. I mean, yeah, you were pressing against some scrapes and all, but you, uh, well—it was—very nice.”

You sigh in relief before remembering that the two of you were very much in the middle of a battle zone. “We gotta get out of here,” you say. “Are you good to stand?”

“Probably,” Scott says, wincing. “Although I might need some help.”

“Get up here,” you say, standing and reaching a hand out to him. He manages to get upright, but limps a bit and seems generally stiff. You offer an arm to support him as the two of you run, definitely not paying attention to the defined muscles stretching under your hand. The two of you manage to make it to the quinjet, sprinting inside to safety as you dodge blasts from Tony and Rhodey’s suits.

✖️✖️✖️

An hour later, you’re sitting in the quinjet, dabbing some hydrogen peroxide on a cut on Scott’s cheek. You frown as you reach a particularly stubborn spot, shifting so that you draw closer to him, legs further intertwining with his. As you move the cotton gently towards his hairline, your eyes are drawn to his. You’re surprised to find that he’s gazing at you, expression soft and half-lidded in admiration. When he notices you look back, he gives you a shy smile, eyes crinkling up adorably.

“Thanks for helping me back there,” he whispers.

“You’re more than welcome. I couldn’t just leave you there. I was worried.”

“Wow, you—really? About lil ol’ me?”

You hum in affirmation, feeling your heart soar strangely in your throat as you take in the man in front of you. Leaning forward, you press a gentle kiss to his uninjured cheek and get the pleasure of seeing a rosy blush spread all the way down his neck. You reposition yourself so that you’re sitting next to him, placing your head on his shoulder a second time.

And when his hand finds yours, hesitant, searching, you can’t bring yourself to care about anything else.

✖️✖️✖️

You knock on the door, readjusting your dark glasses and ballcap as you wait for Scott to answer. Even though what you’re doing is probably illegal, you know how Scott values connection despite his awkwardness. You’ve taken the liberty of visiting him, bringing him snacks and little gifts and games you’d think he’d enjoy—and, hopefully, best of all—yourself.

You hear his footsteps nearing the door, crashing into something on the way followed by a subdued curse of pain. He’s still grimacing when your eyes meet his, but the expression quickly morphs into one of disbelief.

“W—what are you doing here!” he exclaims, looking equally floored and excited at your presence.

“Thought you might be a little lonely, so I thought I’d help,” you say, lifting up the bag of gifts and food.

“Well—wow—uh—please, come in.”

As you step inside, Scott whirls around the room, adjusting small objects and not-so-small messes as he does do. “Gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know anyone was coming. Especially you! I mean, I would have, y’know, actually cleaned up if I’d known—“ He looks at you sheepishly, but you just smile.

“I think it’s perfect, Scott. Now what say we have a look at what I broughtcha, huh?”

He rummages through the bag with the eagerness of a child, and you watch him affectionately exclaim at each new thing he finds. When he reaches the last object, he looks up at you in complete awe.

“Thank you! I—uh—I don’t know what to say,” he says.

“Hey, it’s my pleasure,” you say, beaming at him.

“Um—do you, uh, have anywhere else to go today?” Scott asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Hmm—not that I can think of,” you reply, grinning.

“Would you like to—well, y’know—hang out some? We can try to make a dent in all this food,” he says, voice adorably unsure and excited all at once.

“I’d love that,” you say.

Later that night, he somehow works up the courage to kiss you on the couch while you watch a movie. It’s soft, reverent almost, and he places his forehead on yours afterwards, eyes closed in bliss, awestruck breath coming in the form of a barely-there giggle.

“You’re amazing,” he says, and you assure him you feel the same with another series of short, soft kisses.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Jigsaw // Black : Part Two

I Promise

A/N: Time’s up. Frank’s here. It’s all about to end. Will Billy be able to finish it on his terms and keep his promise to you? 

Warning: gun violence, weapons, major character death

Word Count: 3,770

“You’re almost done, Billy.” He leaned back in his chair in the communications tent, eyes closed, just listening. The cushioned headset he wore drowned out most of the background noise, letting him focus more clearly on you. If he concentrated hard enough, he could pretend that the muffled voices of the men right outside were just your neighbors, arguing again. He could pretend that he was sitting across from you in your living room instead of across oceans and continents.“Less than three months now, then you’ll be-” He swallowed, squeezing his eyelids shut at the way your voice betrayed you, hitching before your muttered ‘fuck’. You took a breath to steady yourself but he could hear the tears behind it. Fuck, he repeated to himself. “Then you’ll be back home, Billy.” 

 The last time he’d been able to talk to you, it had been a video call. The screen froze and the audio lagged at certain points, but getting to see you- the way your eyebrows would jump and your eyes would grow round before your smile overtook your face, or the way you’d look down and shake your head before you broke into a laugh-  getting to see you was more than worth the technical frustrations. But this time, a video call wasn’t an option. His unit had recently moved to a new location, and things weren’t entirely set up yet. He dragged a bruised hand down over his dirty face, palm curving around the overgrown beard covering his chin and jaw. Despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to have you right there in front of him, to take you in his arms and feel you warm and real against him, he was glad that the network wasn’t set up yet, glad that you couldn’t see how drained and ragged he knew that he looked; he was glad that he couldn’t see how broken you sounded. The past few weeks had been tough on both of you. He was glad he didn’t have to see it on you.   

 “Yeah,” he forced the exhaustion down, like he’d been trained to do, replacing it with a stability that he didn’t feel. “Yeah, that’s right.” 

 “Like you promised,” you breathed, giving in to the tears. 

 Fuck that goddamn promise. On nights like this, when he could feel the odds tilting against him, he hated the fact that he’d given you hope where he had no business to do so. “Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, like I promised.” I’m tryin’ like Hell. 

 A door opened and someone called his name. “Time’s up Russo.” 

 “RUSSO!” The harsh scrape and cold metallic clang of the warehouse door accompanied the wild roar of his name. Pupils dilating and attention snapping back to the present, he inhaled through his nose and silently rose to his feet, back to the wall. Why did I...why that… “RUSSO! Where are you?” Frank bellowed as the door slammed shut again. But Billy knew he’d be there, knew he was coming. What he didn’t understand was why he’d recalled that conversation. He’d talked to you a handful of times between that night and the night he’d sent the email that had ended things. So why… Why was his battered brain replaying that scene? Why now? “Bill! Goddamnit, Bill, I know you’re here. Where are you?” Time’s up.

 Frank’s booming voice echoed in the steel and concrete space, his boots crunching over broken glass from the fallen panes. Billy inched his way around the corner, the brick wall to his back as he slunk in the shadows until he could peer over the edge of the broken window into the room below. He cocked his head to the side as, unseen, he watched Frank stride into view. In the past Frank had been beside him when he’d taken the high ground on an enemy. This was a different angle, one that made his stomach lurch. Shit. Suddenly, eyes trained on his former friend, he realized why that particular memory had come to him. Goddamnit it, Frankie. 

 “Russo, I feel like you’re someone I can depend on,” Rawlins spoke casually, even when the topic was anything but. Billy couldn’t stand the man, but he knew that he had endless resources at his fingertips, knew that he was the kind of man that could make things happen. “Am I right, soldier?” 

 Billy regarded the cocky little bastard, weighing his response. What’s in it for me? “Yessir,” he answered, thinking only about self preservation, thinking only about how to fulfill that damn promise to you. 

 “And Castle?” The man shifted his weight, beady little eyes on Billy. “Is he someone I can depend on? Or is he going to be a problem?” 

 “I trust Frank with my life, sir.” Billy answered without hesitation. 

 Rawlins smiled, taking a step towards Billy, shaking one finger. “That’s nice, soldier.” The way he said the word, employing all of the superiority that his rank allowed, made Billy cringe. “But that’s not the question I asked you.” 

 “No, sir,” Billy dished the emphasis right back. “Frank won’t be a problem.” We gotta get outta this, Frankie. You gotta trust me, brother. 

 “Alright then, Russo, you’re dismissed. Go take your turn in the comms tent. I’m sure you’ve got someone to call back home.” 

 It was still weeks before the fateful night that Billy tore Frank away from Rawlins’ twitching, bloody form. But it was the first night Billy knew that shit was going south, and that his only chance of coming out of it on top was to convince Frank follow his lead. We do what he says and we walk away from this. We go home, start that security team...He thought of you as he followed his feet to the communications tent. After a string of rough missions and a stretch of sleepless nights, all he wanted was to hear your voice. Frank goes home to his family. I go home to her. 

 That’s why… 

 That’s why he was standing where he was, scarred and carved out and hollow. That’s why Frank was downstairs, blinded by rage and fueled by vengeance. Damnit, Frank, why couldn’t you see it? 

 Billy watched as Frank turned, slowly pacing and scanning the dark room. With another bellow of Billy’s name, he finished his circle, facing Billy’s direction. Stark white against the jet black vest, the skull that haunted him for months seared through his memory, burning every single page as it flipped back to the night on the carousel. The night l lost her. He flinched away from the razor sharp memory of that last kiss as he begged you to leave the park, get far away from him. The night he took her from me. The razor zipped back through his brain to show him your lifeless body, the eerie blue lights reflecting off skin that was already growing cold as the ponies carried him away from you. He took everything from me. He watched Frank’s shoulders hunch and tense up as the man prepared to shout again. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, his blood pulsing behind his eyes. Time’s up. 

 “Right here, Frankie boy,” he sneered, stepping away from the wall. He had Madani’s gun pointed right at Frank’s head, and in less than half a second Frank had returned the favor, spinning on a dime to find Billy and line up a shot. Some things never change. “I’m right here.” 

 “You alone, Russo? Huh? Anyone else here?” Half of Frank’s face was obscured by his gun and his outstretched arms, but Billy recognized the flame in that man’s eyes. It was the same fire that burned in his own. 

 “Yeah,” Billy spat from behind his own weapon. “Yeah I’m alone. You made sure’a that, didn’t you, Frank?” You lost your family so you took mine away.

 “Ah, c’mon, cut the shit, Bill, you can’t put this on me. You know you can’t.” He was slowly advancing towards the staircase, Billy moving along upper level as Frank moved below, like magnets pushing and pulling against one another.  

 Billy’s lungs heaved under his ribs, massive intakes of breath that made him fight dizziness. Can’t put it on you, Frank? Anger ripped through every cell in his body leaving his bones vibrating.  “YOU. SHOT. HER!” His voice tore and frayed into threads as he squeezed the trigger of his gun. It was a poorly timed and badly aimed shot and he knew it. It was an emotional reaction and he cursed himself for it as the bang reverberated in the warehouse. Fuck! He told himself he wouldn’t waste the few bullets he had, and he’d blown one within the first minute. Frank had dodged the shot, reading Billy’s telegraph and rolling closer to the staircase. “Don’t, DON’T, tell me it’s not on you, YOU KILLED HER!” He kept his gun raised but refrained from shooting again until he knew he had his shot. Until he gets up here. Right up close.

 Frank groaned, as though he was tired of the topic. “And why were we there that night, huh?” He slowly made his way up the rickety stairs. “Why did I kill her? Why is my family dead?” Billy’s nostrils flared as he tried to get his breathing back under control, gun still pointed at Frank as he backed further into the lofted area. “That doctor,” Fuck that doctor. “Madani,” Billy seethed as he tightened his grip on her gun. “Lotta bodies, Bill. Lotta Blood on your hands.”

  Lotta blood on both our hands, Frankie, or did you forget that? “Yeah,” Billy scoffed. “Yeah. Just got one more to add.” Then I’m done. 

 Frank was only one step away from the top when he locked eyes with Billy and pulled the trigger, a gravelly yell coming from him as he did. Just like Frank had done, Billy was able to throw himself sideways and out of range, ducking behind one of the overturned file cabinets that he’d moved to take cover. Frank let two more shots rip, the bullets lodging in the thick metal, denting it with deadly force. Billy waited for the ringing to subside, until he could hear Frank’s footsteps again, before he moved. The bandage he’d wrapped around his arm after leaving Madani’s apartment had torn off as he landed behind the cabinet, cool air hitting the wound as warm blood seeped into his shirtsleeve. “You’re not gonna kill me, Bill! I’m not the one who dies!”  

 “You’re not gonna die today. Dyin’s easy.”

 The garbled music of the carousel played like a soundtrack as Frank’s words echoed in his memory. “You had your chance to kill me. Now it’s my turn.” He slid along the cabinet as Frank circled around, firing two more shots into the space where Billy was just seconds ago. Getting the drop on him, Billy stood and quickly spun behind another shelving unit. “I’m a hard man to kill, Frank.” Especially now. I got nothin’ to lose. He aimed through a busted shelf as Frank gaped around the room looking for him. He fired at the exact moment that Frank moved, the bullet only grazing the man’s shoulder and giving away Billy’s location. Damnit. 

 With a grunt, Frank turned in Billy’s direction. “You’re right, Russo. You are a hard man to kill. I shoulda finished things that night, I shoulda,” he reached into his pocket and Billy’s eyes went wide. Oh, shit. “Not makin’ that mistake again, Bill.” He pulled the pin from the small metal orb in his hand, cocking his arm back. 

 From the shape of the grenade, Billy could tell it was just a flashbang, a non-lethal blast that was used for distraction or to flush an enemy out. The combustion alone wouldn’t usually be enough to kill anyone, but whether or not Frank was aware of it, the warehouse was full of old aerosol paint cans, and they, as they caught fire and exploded, could certainly be deadly. “No! Don’t!” He shouted as Frank released the grenade, but he was too late, the cannister tumbling towards him through the air as he dove as far as he could. 

 The flash ignited instantly, a brilliant burst of light followed by a loud crack as Billy flew through the air. Just as he knew would happen, the blast sparked a flame that spread in a matter of milliseconds to the pile of spent spray cans that had fallen from the shelf. Frank was blown backwards as Billy landed, cans exploding to send twisted bits of hot metal and plastic through the room. Searing heat and a deep, burning pain told Billy that he was still alive, and he blinked and coughed, scooting back against a damaged door frame. Finish it. Gotta...gotta finish it. He blinked again and again, trying to clear the brightness, your face flashing behind his eyelids every time. “Billy,” you reached for him like you had in his mind the night in the park. Hang on, he begged you. I’m comin’. A groan from the other side of the room and a shuffling sound told him that Frank had survived the blast, too. Just gotta finish this. Almost done.      

  Deafening bangs tore through the air as several more paint cans exploded, flames flaring as they burst, brilliant orange and raging red. Billy crouched with his back to one of the door frame as the cans turned to shrapnel and flew in all directions. As the shock of the explosion subsided, he found the source of that burning pain. He looked down at his right thigh, black jeans torn, blood and mangled skin visible through the tear. Shit. He knew he had to stop the bleeding, knew he didn’t have long if he couldn’t. He had eyes on Frank and saw that he was hit, too, clutching his left bicep near the crook of his elbow, and knew he had a minute to recover while Frank did the same. Hands shaking, he pressed his palms around the pointed piece of aluminum protruding from his leg. Wincing, Billy determined that it was too deep to simply pull out. He recalled the crash course in IED wound care that he’d taken years ago. If the shrapnel hits the femoral artery, apply pressure and call for a Med-Evac immediately. He removed his hands from the wound and blood spurted out around the edges of the jagged metal, hot and thick as it soaked his pant leg. He slowed his breathing as the rapid blood loss threatened dizziness, and focused on tearing the bottom hem of his shirt. It took more strength than he thought, but he tore the material and wrapped it tightly around the wound, surrounding the piece of metal to make sure it didn’t move. 

His heart drummed loudly in his ears, like it was warning him that it was beating out it’s final rhythm. Not yet. Not...not until I finish this… He squeezed his eyes shut to try to focus, opening them again as he heard more movement from Frank. He’d secured his own wound, picked his gun back up, and Billy could see him staggering to his feet. Time to move. He tested out his injured leg, putting weight on it slowly until he was standing, too. Another shot caught him off guard as Frank took advantage of the fact that he’d found his feet first, ripping into his side, right next to the long, puffy scar that Frank had left him with the last time they’d done this dance. A burst of air left his lungs as he fell back into the wall and fired his own shot, the last bullet in the chamber finding its mark and tearing into Frank’s collarbone, right above the vest he wore. Both men slid back down, clutching their new wounds as blood spilled over their fingers. That drum beat in Billy’s chest changed tempo to tell him time was short. His breathing came shallow and rapid quick as color faded from his vision, everything turning a drab gray or a thick, heavy black. He choked as dark, hot blood dribbled from his lips and exhaustion filled every muscle, slowing his movements. Almost done. 

 “How’d we get here, Bill?” Frank groaned the question, and Billy could tell that he was in rough shape, too. “How’d...this...goddamnit, Russo, how’d we get here?”

 “Could…” he coughed, spit and blood spraying from his mouth. “Could ask you the same...question, Frank. You…you did this. You…” He felt his voice break as the weight of everything he’d lost pressed down on the shell of his body. You. Him. The Castles. Everything. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, burning from the smoke and from the way he felt you reaching out to him. “Remember the fires, Frankie? ‘Member… remember how they smelled? Rubber’n oil and…” he wrinkled his nose, the acrid memory filling his nostrils. “Shit like that… it’s burned in there, Frank.” He pressed the ball of his hand into his eye, palm and fingers curving around his brow. “And now she’s…” He winced, coughing and squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he could. “Now she’s there, Frank, she’s there,” with the fires, and the bombs, and, and the nightmares, and it’s not right.”

 “You put her there, Bill...It’s your fault she’s there.” He choked the words out, absolute conviction filling what was left of his voice. 

 “No.” Billy clutched the top of his head with one hand as he shook it to clear Frank’s accusation. No. No, it’s not. “No, no! No, Frank, you did! You killed her like you killed your family.” He shouted across the vast space, voice cracking and breaking, throat raw from the hot, smoke-filled air. 

 “Bullshit!” Frank lobbed his response around the corner like another grenade, the absolute hatred in that one word raining more rubble down around the remains of what they once had. “They loved you, Bill. They- and you…” He paused, a breath leaving his lungs in the form of an anguished grunt. “My kids, my wife! They loved you like you were one of us, Bill.” I know they did, that’s why I… He doesn’t see it, he still doesn’t see... He pounded the cinderblock wall behind him with the side of his closed fist in frustration as Frank continued. “And you betrayed them. You killed my family and-” No. 

 “I tried to save your family, Frank!” Billy cut him off, spit flying from his lips as he screamed, fist slamming the wall twice more to open up small cuts on the meat of his hand.He didn’t feel it, numb to everything except the acidic sting of Frank’s inability to see. He took a shuddering breath, fighting harder and harder to fight the slow, creeping cold that was starting to shut him down. Why can’t he… “I tried to warn you. I tried to...but you didn’t...you didn’t listen, Frank, you never...listened! That transfer? You should have… god damnit, Frank, why didn’t you take that fucking transfer?” She’d be alive. Your family would be alive, we’d all be… The room spun, vision taking longer and longer to come back after each blink, coming through darker and darker. He’s not gonna...I can’t make him see. I can’t. He shoved his hand in his pocket, fingers wrapping around the blade handle, knuckles brushing over the photo. Gotta finish it. 

 Frank continued his protests as Billy harnessed as much strength as he could, refusing to fail as he forced himself to his feet. He saw you in that blue dress that you wore in his conjured vision from the ball. Another can burst somewhere to his left as he took a step. You stretched your arms out wide in front of Alice and her bronze companions, thick blue scarf wrapped around your neck. A shattered pane of glass fell from the window that looked out over the bottom floor, and there you were, next to him on that carousel, begging him to hold on. Another step. Another flash. “X Marks the spot, Billy” He pulled the knife from his pocket. “Like you promised.” Frank let the last of his bullets fly, grazing Billy’s shoulder. “I love you, Billy”.  He kept moving, kept coming, kept going, and Frank couldn’t get out of his path. 

 His knee hit the ground, his whole weight behind the drop, letting gravity help him as he caught the back of Frank’s skull with his free hand, driving his knife through his throat until his knuckles touched flesh and his forehead fell against Frank’s. “Dyin’s easy.” He heard the words again and watched how true they were as the man he once called brother spasmed and fell silent, his blood coating Billy’s fingers, his weight heavy in his arms. It’s over, Frank. It’s done. Billy set his body down, a new level of emptiness scraping at his battered heart. It’s done. I’m done. He closed his eyes as the fires swept through the building, but you were there, and you were calling him, and he couldn’t let go until he found you. Opening his eyes, he gasped and gulped for air as his fingers relaxed their grip on the blood soaked blade that he held, diving into his pocket to find the bent, glossy print instead. A sob fell from his lips as his eyes landed on your face and he whispered your name. 

 He kept his eyes on the photo until they burned from the smoke, until they blurred and filled with tears. He wiped them roughly away with his sleeve before squinting back at the image for another few seconds.  “I want a picture of us. Here.” Your voice filled his ears, replacing the roar of the flames and the pop of the bursting cans, taking him out of the warehouse and back to the park. “I… you’re leaving, Billy. In a few days and…”  He slid his thumb up over to cover his own face, as he’d done the first time he’d been handed the photo. “And I want a picture, before you go.”  But this time when he slid it back down, a smear of blood kept his likeness covered, leaving only you, smiling up at the faceless man. “Okay?” 

 “Okay.” He looked over at Frank, at the flames and the broken glass and he knew this wasn’t where he was supposed to be. “Okay,” he moaned weakly, tears falling and lungs heaving as he dragged himself to his feet again. “Okay, I’m comin’...I promise.”

.

.

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@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @thesumofmychoices  @obscurilicious @traeumerinwitzhelden @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @breanime @nananananananananananabatman @lexxierave @songforhema @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @roses-in-your-country-house @ymariejp @belladonnarey @audreychaz @songtoyou @stories-you-wont-hear @luminex3 @ificouldhelpyouforget

[chubbyooo]

The Road to Redemption - A Blurred Lines Spinoff Chapter 1: Voss

hey all part 3 of my spinoff series that will focus on Kavaraa from her escape from imprisonment to the end of KOTET, it'll run alongside it showing her story where the main story stays mostly the same apart from the little moments where the stories inteact

Like the other spinoffs this aint necessary to understand the story of BL but it will add a little context for all yall who want it :D

With the Battle of Odessen finished and the Eternal Emperor missing tensions are high in a galaxy at war, Jedi Consular Kavaraa previous Basen'thor for the republic was recently broken out of jail after being locked up for five years by Arcann after an attempt to save her old sith rival Darth Nox went wrong (see part 2). After her escape she traveled to Voss and is trying to tow the line between helping the alliance and helping her old rival, but she is about to get stuck with a huge moral decision that will test her resolve and moral code. Will she redeem herself in the eyes of her old rival and will she be able to redeem others lost by the galaxies enemies

Kavaraa calmed her mind, she needed to be ready when Theron needed her, she sighed the last few weeks had been a blur after years and years of imprisonment on Belsavis he’d come and saved her. She was still surprised he’d managed it, she was positive they couldn’t be found but he’d managed it, he was the best person she knew she’d missed him so much and he’d done it out of the goodness of his heart. But she needed to collect herself on Voss and he needed to return to the alliance to help in the fight with the eternal empire, she’d have loved to have come but she expected if Nox saw her she wouldn’t last long. So for now she was treading water helping out where she could but she did feel a little directionless.

Either way she didn’t want to rock the boat and she felt right at home on Voss, she’d been anxiously waiting for a transmission from Theron with an update after the last couple weeks. There had been a big battle over Odessen and they were still collecting themselves after Emperor Arcann and his mother disappeared. She was still very new to all of this Eternal Empire stuff and a little out of the loop spending five years in prison would do that to you, still it’d helped her find center she was ready to help the alliance despite its difficult leadership. Apparently Nox was just as volatile as before having killed soldiers for insubordination, Theron had told her that despite her difficult and cruel nature she was fighting to stop the Eternal Empire so that was at least something.

Nox and her were old rivals and on many occasions had fought over an artefact or temple but that all felt so small now after the time she had to contemplate, she doubted Nox felt the same way but you never know. She hoped Nox would somewhat appreciate it when they tried to save her but getting captured may have made that ineffective, they were imprisoned quickly after that but she’d been unconscious for most of it. The prison had been anyone who could be considered a leader of Martyr for the republic or empire, the Voidhound, Cipher nine and the Commander of Havoc squad were captured with her but later the Emperor's Wrath was captured too after a failed attack on Zakuul. Kavaraa had made sure when she escaped to put an alarm on her cell just in case the Wrath ever escaped, she’d been even more dangerous than Nox so having that secure would help. There was only so long you could contain a rage machine like that, still she had to help make amends for her failure by helping the alliance take down the eternal empire.

She sensed someone come into the room and turned round to see Gaden Ko “I sensed you were troubled is everything ok Barsen'thor” she nodded at her long time friend as he stood in the doorway, when she’d arrived Ko had been more than ready to take her in as she found herself again.

She responded “no don’t worry Gaden I’m just waiting for a communication with Theron uh Agent Shan and I’m just a little tense” he nodded sitting down next to her

He gave a slight smile “do not worry things have a way of working out just follow the force and you and your partner will get through this” Kavaraa’s eyes widened as Gaden spoke what did he just say?!

She went turquoise “wha um what do you mean me and Theron aren’t together that’s ah what, I’ve never even thought about that and it’s uh ridiculous you’d even suggest that i um ah?” Gaden Ko frowned clearly misunderstanding as Kavaraa continued to stammer

Gaden Ko held up a hand “my apologies I just assumed because of the way you too act you seem like two with a very strong bond” this was not the first time someone has insinuated this and Kavaraa wouldn’t be so opposed to the idea but there had just never had the right moment

Kavaraa shook her head “don’t worry about it, just a misunderstanding” she looked away trying to hide her embarrassment the Voidwolf Gacen had been telling her she needed to give it a go but there just wasn’t the right time during this war she may have to wait til it’s over

Gaden Ko nodded “nonetheless I’m sure the force has put you where you need to be and the path will reveal itself to you soon” she smiled at Gaden Ko, he truly believed in fate and our place in the galaxy.

She patted his back “thanks buddy, I really appreciate you letting me use the temple” he nodded getting back up

He responded “since you’ve been away I have gained significant influence so it’s the least I can do” Kavaraa nodded she was glad someone had benefited from her time as Barsen’thor 

Suddenly the comm sprung to life “Kavaraa come in are you there?” Theron’s voice rung out and Kavaraa quickly answered

“Hey Theron I’m here how’s everything” last she’d heard Nox had sworn death upon Senya and Koth so she wondered how she was doing now

Theron took a second before responding “well she’s not throwing a tantrum anymore” Kavaraa let out a sigh of relief “now she’s just fueling her anger into finding them and she is on the warpath” it was good to hear his voice again she’d been getting lonely with only Voss Mystics to talk to

Kavaraa frowned “so a bit of a mixed bag then?” she had to admit sometimes she did wonder if supporting Nox would be a huge mistake but it was better than the Eternal Empire right? “And the Eternal Empire? How is it back at full potential” it was a wonder without Arcann at the helm that it hadn’t fallen apart

Theron sighed “well it seems like Arcanns sister Vaylin is now in control and using the help of one of our former robotic friends” Theron had mentioned the AI SCORPIO but it was unfortunate to learn such a complex AI now controlled the fleet, Kavaraa shuddered last time she had seen Vaylin she got her ass kicked by her.

Kavaraa’s heart sank “so the wars gonna be going a while longer?” she’d hoped the battle at Odessen had made them some real headway

Theron confirmed her question “yeah unfortunately so, we gotta build ourselves up a little more and find the best way to cripple the Eternal Empires resources” that sounded smartest Theron had always know what to do 

Kavaraa sighed “well make sure to keep Nox under control Theron you know how she can be” very murdery was an accurate description 

Theron chuckled “yeah don’t worry me and Lana have her under control we can push her anger in the right directions” strategizing around the whims of a difficult leader must be frustrating

Kavaraa responded “ok just be careful and look after yourself I don’t want anything bad happening to you ok” there was a mumbled agreement response that Kavaraa couldn’t quite make out but assumed was a reluctant yes “and any update on Koth or Senya” Kavaraa frowned as she could hear a commotion coming from the main temple

She started to walk over as Theron talked “not as of yet Koth is good at avoiding us, scrambling our systems and Senya appears to be laying low” Kavaraa nodded as she walked into the main chamber to see some mystics rushing someone by

She responded only half listening “I still can’t believe he stole the Gravestone this is the first time Nox’s anger may be justified” Kavaraa frowned as she noted an older woman wearing Zakuul like armour with the mystics hair in a bun and some stones in her forehead “um Theron what does Senya look like” she hadn’t looked her up but as she got closer the person being rushed did look familiar to her

Theron responded quickly “uh tall, grey black hair and most notably two little stones in her forehead, why?” Kavaraa’s eyes widened as she saw the broken form of Arcann as he was rushed into the healing chamber

Kavaraa stammered “uh um because they’re here, I’m gonna have to call you back” she turned off the comm and rushed over to Senya

She walked up with purpose “um what’s going on here that man is wanted by literally everyone in the galaxy, and you’re gonna heal him?” she didn’t know if she’d turn them in or if she kinda already had telling Theron

Senya’s face was frightened and Kavaraa quickly lowered her guard “I know I know but please just let me heal him then we can face our crimes, I know there’s good in him I promise but unless he’s healed he’ll be lost” she grabbed Kavaraa’s hand “I sense you’re strong in the force please do this for me just let them heal him and then I promise I’ll do whatever you want” Kavaraa’s mouth hung open what should she do Senya was clearly being genuine but this would create an even greater rift between her, the alliance, Theron and Nox

She knew what she had to do, she took a deep breath “sure ok I’ll help you, maybe we can help him together” much to her surprise Senya pulled her into a tight hug, she wasn’t quite sure what to do but Gaden Ko had said she was here for a reason maybe she was here to help heal Arcann...

[weartirondad]

Keep Me Steady

Prompt: Forehead Kiss - “Hey is there we send in the ideas for the prompts? They're all so cute but I love the forehead kiss one!! And thought it would be angsty and fluffy if it was Peter kissing Tony's forehead in medbay because he got hurt and isnt waking up? Perhaps because he took a hit meant for his spiderson? Anyway love all that u guys do and thanks for tagging me! ♡♡“  @ironfamjam

Warnings: CPR

A/N: ....... this is a prompt for our 1k followers celebration.... not sure you remember it........ 

FF.net I ao3

“Peter.”

He shook his head, never looking up from where his hands were clutching his mask so tightly that it cut off the blood supply to his fingers. The chairs in the waiting area of the compound’s med bay weren’t the usual cheap plastic ones he remembered from the last time he had sat in a hospital waiting for news.

Shaking his head again he squeezed his eyes shut to make the voices in his head go away. They were too loud, too many and he was too afraid that they were right.

No.

He wouldn’t let himself go there. If he did all the tiny pieces that made up his soul that he had held together for the past three hours would finally break and crumble and he couldn’t – he didn’t have the energy to pick them back up again. There were more important things to focus on, like the heartbeat he could hear through closed doors ever so faintly. As long as it kept beating Peter would be strong he vowed.

A heavy hand settled on his shoulder making him flinch.

The motion was familiar but not the person it had come from. The feeling of the hand on his skin was all wrong, the fingers not calloused enough to belong to the person he wanted – needed – right now. The wrong man settled down in one of the cushioned chairs and kept looking at him with a worried frown. It was a wrong sigh he let out and the voice was wrong, too.

Wrongwrongwrong.

“You’re still in your suit.”

The teenager heard the silent suggestion that swung in the statement but the mere thought of leaving left a bitter taste in his mouth and made his heart clench painfully in his chest, so he simply nodded and continued fidgeting with the mask in his hands and shuffling his upper body until his shoulder was free of the man’s touch.

Wrong.

Rhodey let his hand slid down his arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake that were covered by the red and blue suit. He didn’t move it, though, simply let it drop down into his own lap again. “Have you called your aunt?”

He gave a sharp nod. “I told her I’ll be staying here,” he felt compelled to add, his tone challenging the other superhero to object, to tell him off. He was surprised when the older man simply cocked his head to the side and continued to watch him intently. “I just –“ He crumbled a little under the patient gaze. “I just can’t leave him, you know?”

“I know.”

Peter met his gaze again and for the first time he realized just how tired Rhodey looked. Almost as tired as Peter felt himself.

His entire body was tense and the worry seemed permanently etched into the wrinkles on his face. He recognized the look, knew exactly what it felt like. Rhodey really did understand. He figured he must have spent most of his life worrying about Tony and the thought made the young vigilante feel nauseous.

“But we can’t really do anything for him right now,” Rhodey told him matter-of-factly, voice calm and collected and gentle. “And I know for a fact that they won’t let you into his room looking as filthy as you do. Something about open wounds and dirt, hygiene they call it, I think.” He cracked a smile but it seemed forced at best. Still, Peter appreciated it.

He just really didn’t want to go.

Rhodey sensed that and with a motion too quickly for his tired brain to keep up with, he pulled something out from – from where exactly? Behind his back? The chair beside him? Did it matter?

A pile of clothes landed in his arms and instinctively he grabbed to hold them. His favorite pajama pants and one of his science pun t-shirts and a dark red hoodie he had never seen before. It was soft. He frowned but before he could open his mouth to ask, Rhodey explained.

“It’s Tony’s. Was his favorite back in the day. He’s rarely wearing it outside anymore but I’m pretty sure he still wears it at home. I thought you would appreciate it.”

He did. Curling his hand around the soft fabric, he felt gratitude spread in his chest, fuzzy and slowly melting the fear that had taken his heart hostage.

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” he croaked. Of course he’d already asked that and the doctor had reassured him but he needed to hear it from someone who was just as scared as he was, just as shaken because they knew what was at stake.

“Of course he is,” Rhodey scoffed fondly, and his wet eyes almost didn’t betray his light tone, “You know how it is, bad weeds grow tall.”

Something similar to a laugh slipped passed his dry lips before he conceded with a huff. “Fine,” he said, “But F.R.I.D.A.Y. is gonna call me the second there are any news whatsoever.”

When he pushed himself up from the chair he felt a lot older than sixteen with all his joints creaking and cracking from having been curled up in one position for too long. His heart, too, felt older than it had just this morning.

 As much as he hated being away from the action, if you could call the deserted waiting room that, he had to admit that the shower did wonders on his tense shoulders. The dried tear tracks on his cheeks were slowly fading when he let the hot water pour over his face. He just had to keep his mind busy because the second he didn’t, he was back there and he was holding on to Tony’s lifeless body and he couldn’t stand picturing the man like that.

Tony was vibrant. Always with a sarcastic quip on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes when they met Peter’s. He was strong and smart and alive. He was a god damn superhero.

Peter blinked the tears away that burned in his eyes and mixed with the water until he couldn’t tell which was which anymore.

“Great job, underoos. One down, one to go,” Tony’s voice sounded through the comm and he grinned at the praise as he shot out a web at the Ironman suit that was flying past him. As soon as the web attached itself to the armor he felt the strain on his shoulder when his self-designed material stretched and then he already took off, tagging along on the flight.

He loved flying. Loved the exhilarating feeling of his heart dropping to his stomach. He knew without the shadow of a doubt that he was safe here. He was with Tony after all.

“Kids these days,” he heard his mentor mutter in mock annoyance, “Too lazy to web their own way down to the fight.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?” he quipped back before shooting out another web and leaving the billionaire’s side to land on the side of a nearby building gracefully. “What’s the plan, Mister Stark?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the huge thing (honestly, he wasn’t sure as what to classify the weird metallic body that was currently out for their blood).

That’s the moment War Machine joined them, flying up in to hover next to Iron-Man, blasters out and ready to, well, blast. “We’re gonna kick some ass is what we’re gonna do.”

The last thing he heard before Rhodey started firing was Tony’s carefree laughter in his ear.

He had just stepped out of the shower when F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed him that Tony was out of surgery. It didn’t take him more than three minutes until he was back in the med bay, pants on the wrong way around and hoodie barely pulled over his head.

Looking like the mess he felt, wet curls hanging in his face and almost tripping over his feet, he barreled into the room and – stopped and stared.

The sight that greeted him felt like a punch to the stomach and knocked the air out of his lungs, making him stumble.

Tony seemed to be swallowed up by the big bed, tubes sticking out of various parts of his body. He took a tentative step closer but not too close, too scared to accidentally touch some of the wires and mess something important up.

“He’s –“ he stammered, “Is he –?“

“He’s fine.” Rhodey’s voice was gentle but firm, demanding attention that Peter didn’t have to spare. His gaze seemed permanently stuck on the slight rise and fall of his mentor’s chest.

Breathing meant alive. They could work with alive. An alive Tony would fight his way back to them.

Rhodey stood up from the chair next to the bed, slowly approaching Peter until he was right beside him. Again, the hand settled on his shoulder, pulling him back from the spiraling thoughts in his mind, grounding him in the moment.

Peter looked up, Rhodey’s face blurry through the veil of tears that he couldn’t force back. “I should’ve – I should’ve done something.”

“You know as well as I do that there was nothing you could’ve done.”

Deep down he knew that he should have found a way.

“He knew what he was doing and he knew the consequences but, most importantly, he knew what would happen if he didn’t act.”

“Well, this is very not good.”

“You don’t say, platypus.” Tony’s eye roll was audible over the comms and if Peter hadn’t been so focused on the thing they were fighting getting ready to fire a blast of something very not good into a nearby skyscraper he might have even cracked a smile. As it was, he was otherwise preoccupied.

He was so far out of his wheel house right now, he realized, when he swung to another building closer to the two other heroes. “What are we gonna do, Mister Stark?” Because surely his mentor knew what to do. He always knew what to do.

“About that –“

It all happened so fast that Peter barely had time to process Rhodey’s scream in his ear before Tony had flown in the way of the monster, putting himself between the monster and its target and –

When the green blast hit the arc reactor Peter’s heart plummeted.

Hope flared in his chest when Iron- Man somehow reversed the fire power, hitting the alien being that burst into a million pieces. But then he didn’t reply and simply fell.

He fell and fell and fell and then he stopped.

Once Rhodey had left it took him a while until he dared to move closer to the bed.

Tony looked so fragile, broken, and as much as he couldn’t bear to see him like that, Peter found that he was incapable of averting his eyes. Underneath all the ugly bruises he was still so undeniably alive and that was all that mattered, all he let himself focus on to keep his mind from spiraling.

Eventually he settled into the seat Rhodey had vacated and gingerly took hold of his mentor’s hand, careful to avoid any and all wires he was attached to but especially the perfusion pump supplying him with a steady stream of pain meds. He seemed to need it.

The older man’s face was calm, the anesthesia working its magic in relaxing his muscles and keeping the pain at bay. It seemed wrong, though, to see the expressive face of Tony Stark so devoid of any emotion and tension. Only a few wrinkles remained, especially the frowny ones but Peter could make out the crow’s feet and lines around his mouth, too, that told a story of an easier time with laughter and movie nights instead of bloody hands and hospital beds.

The monitor was showing him the ECG recording and he let the steady beeping lull his unsettled thoughts until he was calm enough to really take in the injuries of the man that made up half of his small make-shift family.

The oxygen mask on the billionaire’s face was fogged with his breaths (he was breathing) but it seemed to be working because the pulse oximeter on his left hand recorded an oxygen saturation of 100 percent.

Peter let out a small breath.

His blood pressure was steady, albeit a little low with 110 to 60 but so much better than when –

The stiff neck Tony was wearing looked uncomfortable but he didn’t seem to mind so Peter tried to be okay with how weirdly rigid and unmovable it made the man look.

His eyes flickered over the case report on the nightstand.

Fracture of both anterior and posterior arch of C1

Type III fracture of C2, stable, no indication for surgical treatment.

Stable. He held onto that when he skimmed over the rest of the text.

Type II spleen rupture

Fractured 4th, 5th left and 2nd right rib; 3rd rib broken bilaterally after CPR by first responder –

Peter reached him as soon as he could but it was still too late. Tony wasn’t moving, wasn’t responding, wasn’t –

“Karen,” he choked out, crawling to the lifeless armor on hands and knees, “Can you get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to open the suit?”

Not a second later the pieces of the suit retracted, revealing his mentor’s beaten form. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. detected fractures of the upper cervical spine. It is recommend to move the patient’s neck as little as possible to not risk severing the spinal cord.”

“Then why didn’t she just keep the armor on?” he spit out, thoughts racing and suited hand pressed against his masked mouth. He couldn’t look at this, he couldn’t breathe through this. He couldn’t –

“Mister Stark is in immediate need of CPR.”

No.

He couldn’t do that.

“Mister Rhodes!” he managed to call out to the superhero still flying through the air to keep the collateral damage as low as possible, “You need to –“

The commanding voice that replied was tense and not at all reminiscent of the playful teasing just minutes earlier. “I can’t, Pete. You gotta do it. You know how to do CPR, right?”

Of course he knew CPR. He knew the steps, knew the moves but –

“I’m – I’m too strong,” he whispered even as he pulled up his mask halfway and started kneeling at his mentor’s head to get a better angle, “I can’t control my strength – I’m gonna – I could kill him!”

Still, he started pressing down.

When he heard the first rib crack, Peter cried out in pain but didn’t stop. He bent down, tilting the man’s head as carefully as he could and breathed for him twice before continuing to press down on his ribcage.

Another crack. A broken rib. And Peter couldn’t see through the tears that were running down his cheeks and he couldn’t breathe but he struggled through the panic sealing his lungs because Tony needed him to breathe for him.

“Heartbeat detected.”

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

His heart was still beating. It was still pumping blood into his circulation, was still supplying his cells with oxygen and was still keeping him alive. It was a steady heartbeat and it felt strong when it pulsated against Peter’s fingers that were pressed to his mentor’s wrist.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

He could hear it, too. If he concentrated hard enough he could make out not only the thud but also the blood streaming through ventricle and atrium. He heard the valves open and close and the soft swoosh when the blood fell back against closed valves.

Still, he couldn’t forget the utter silence that had greeted him earlier. The memory of holding the lifeless man seemed to have been permanently etched into his brain. An image so horribly familiar that it made him feel sick and scared as if he was the small little boy again, begging for help.

Please don’t leave me.

Peter was moving before he had consciously formed the thought and it made him stop in his tracks. Was he allowed to? The doctor had said to watch out for the wires and to be careful with his ribs and neck. But maybe if he was extra cautious it would be okay?

Almost in slow motion he pushed the cables and tubes aside carefully and moved to sit on the bed. Tony was laying a little more to the left side of the bed and so the teenager very deliberately draped himself on his mentor’s right side until he was curled around the man without jostling him too much.

He wound his arm around his head gingerly and dropped his face to rest in the sweaty mob of hair. He breathed in the familiar scent that he could make out beneath all the dust and dirt and blood and sweat. He breathed in Tony and, ever so slowly, he started to relax.

“ETA 3 minutes.”

Three more minutes of Peter holding on to his mentor’s head, too scared to move, too scared to do much of anything but let his body shake with silent sobs and keep listening for that heartbeat that was still fluttering in his chest much too weakly for his taste.

“It’s gonna be okay.” For a lack of better option he started talking to the unresponsive man whose head was resting on his thighs and who didn’t look like he was ever going to wake up again. But his heart was beating so he was going to wake up. He had to wake up.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. could probably fly you home in the suit but we don’t wanna risk –“ severing your spinal cord “ – it, so we’re waiting for the ambulance. It should be here any minute now. You’re gonna be fine, right? I mean, you always said you’d probably die of something stupid like tripping over Dum-E not on the battlefield. You promised not to die before my wedding.”

It was stupid and childish yet he couldn’t help but beg.

“You can’t die. You were gonna teach me how to build an arch reactor and you promised to watch the new Star Wars movie with me the second it comes out. We already planned our costumes, remember?”

Suddenly the Kylo Ren and Han Solo dress up they had planned seemed so inconsequential and trivial. He could’ve spend the time arguing about Kylo’s true feelings telling his mentor how much he appreciated him. He should’ve told him he loved him instead of disagreeing over his breakfast choices. He should’ve held on to him more when he had the chance. He should’ve –

He would, he vowed silently, he would tell him.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words he had never directed at him before oddly familiar on his tongue. “Just, please wake up so I can tell you in person.” Before he thought better of it he leaned forward, pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s forehead and rested his own against it.

Now that he was surrounded by the warmth of his – his person and could feel his chest moving with every breath and could hear his heart beating steadily he realized just how tired he was. He could rest for a bit, right? Tony surely wouldn’t mind and he would tell the nurse where to shove it should she jostle Peter… yeah… he’d just rest his eyes a little. Just for a few minutes.

His eyes slowly started to drop close, succumbing to the exhaustion that seemed to have settled deep into his bones.

Of course Tony took that moment to blink blearily, almost making Peter jolt in surprise.

“Love ya, too, kiddo,” he slurred, not really focusing on anything in particular, “Should know that.”

And, without another word, the older man wrapped his right arm more firmly around his protégé and fell right back asleep with a soft snore.

Tony spent almost a week in his bed in med bay until the doctors were certain he would be able to move his neck without danger of becoming paraplegic and Peter came to see him every day, spending most of his time in the small, barren room. He would bring his homework after school and once he was done with it they would watch another movie or start on another TV show. Sometimes Rhodey or Pepper or May would join them and bring them a home cooked dinner. Sometimes they just munched on the pizzas F.R.I.D.A.Y. ordered.

Sometimes Peter would fall asleep curled around Tony and sometimes May would threaten him with grounding if he didn’t come back home to sleep in his own bed at some point but every time, before he left, Peter would lean down to Tony and press a kiss to his forehead gently. He would tell him he loved him and his mentor would say it back.

He never would have to be scared of not having said enough when he still had the time ever again.

[skywalker-3-1-7]

The Walmart Debacle: A Spider-Man One-Shot

Genre: Comedy, Humor, Adventure

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle “MJ” Jones, Karen

Pairings: Peter Parker/Michelle “MJ” Jones 

(***first installment in series***)

Spider-Man. That's me. I'm Spider-Man. Which is cool and all, but it's not a huge help when it comes to American History.

"Why does it matter what year Benedict Armstrong defected?" I groaned, slamming my textbook shut and tossing it carelessly onto my bedroom floor. Ned, perched on the bottom bunk of the bedset, threw me a dirty glare, shaking his head in disapproval as I hung from the ceiling listlessly.

"It's Benedict Arnold," he corrected, setting down his stack of notes. "And Peter, you need to study if you're going to pass finals next week. You're barely getting by in History."

"I've had more important things to do," I mumbled.

"Oh," Ned retorted. "Like that ATM robbery the other week where you almost stopped the cops from getting the guy?"

"Besides that."

"Or the time three days ago when you skipped third period because you were convinced the janitor was dealing drugs, but he was actually just having an affair with Mrs. Johnston?"

"Hey, he looked fishy," I exclaimed indignantly.

"I think the world can do without Spider-Man for a few days," Ned replied, his gaze growing more serious. "Besides, I thought May went all psycho-aunt after finding out and grounded you or something."

"That was months ago," I said. "And Mr. Stark took her out to a nice dinner and explained the whole thing, talked some sense into her, you know. Everything's cool now. Except I can't be out past 11, but other than that."

"Wow," Ned murmured sardonically. "A superhero with a curfew. Better hope all the ATM robbers don't find out." I frowned, then snatched an empty soda can from my bedside table with a web, chucking it at Ned's head while he chuckled to himself. Slipping down to the floor, I strode to the window and parted the curtains, peering outside.

"I just don't wanna miss anything," I said quietly.

"You won't," Ned assured me, shifting on the bottom bunk. "Now come on, let's go over the Revolutionary War again." I sighed heavily, running a hand through my dark hair.

"Alri -"

Before I could finish, I was interrupted by an alarm ringing loudly from my computer. Leaping across the room in a single bound, I clicked excitedly until I discovered the source of the alarm.

"There's an armed robbery at the Wal-Mart ten blocks from here," I practically shouted. "It looks like they have a hostage!"

"Peter, it's Tuesday," Ned said with an exaggerated yawn. "Can we let the police handle it for once?"

"I gotta go, Ned," I argued, tossing him an earpiece as I stripped out of my t-shirt and sweatpants. "Besides, if you didn't want me doing this kind of stuff, you shouldn't have helped me hack into the emergency dispatch network."

"Fair point," Ned relented, abandoning the stack of books beside of him and sauntering over to the computer, where he took a seat and began clicking away.

"Thanks, bro," I murmured, smiling appreciatively as I dawned my suit. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I slipped the mask over my head, and a soft, familiar voice filled my ears.

"Good evening, Peter."

"Hey, Karen," I mumbled, giving Ned one final nod as I slid open the window and darted outside.

"A little close to curfew, aren't we?" said Karen as I propelled myself across the street.

"I have 37 minutes," I protested, slinging my body across another block as a long web shot from my wrist. "Plenty of time for a robbery and hostage situation."

"Shall I replay some audio from the last time you missed curfew?" Karen queried. There was a crackle, and then my head was suddenly slammed with the sound of Aunt May yelling nonsensically.

"Okay, okay, I get the picture," I grumbled, and Karen promptly shut off the noise.

"I'm with you on this one, Karen," came Ned's voice over the comm.

"You know," I said, "You guys could try being encouraging."

"Don't die out there, buddy," was Ned's response.

"I echo Mr. Leed's sentiments," Karen added.

Grunting to myself, I closed the distance between myself and the approaching Wal-Mart. At last, I reached the roof. Glancing to the streets below, I spotted a squadron of police cars gathering by the entrance. A swarm of cops were standing by, talking into their walkies and swaggering about with their guns bared.

"Any word from the police channels?" I asked, pressing a finger to my ear.

"There are three men and one woman, all of them armed," Karen answered. "They're in the back of the store in the electronics section."

"Okay," I mumbled to myself. "Not too bad. How many hostages?"

"Two," said Karen. "An employee and a civilian. There's a ventilation shaft fifty feet behind you, which will take you close to the electronics section."

"Thanks Karen," I replied, sprinting across the rooftop to the top of the shaft.

Removing the metal plate on top took a minute or so, then I carefully crawled down the shaft. It was cold, to say the least, and I shivered underneath my suit.

"Your body temperature is decreasing rapidly, Peter." Karen remarked. "Shall I activate the suit's heating system?"

"Yeah, th-that'd be great," I responded through chattering teeth. A rush of warmth began to seep into my skin, and I blinked, clearing my focus as I neared the end of the tunnel.

Popping my head into the open, I gazed down to find myself directly above the children's clothing. No customers in sight. Relief flowed through my veins, and I crawled into the high rafters of the ceiling with a boost of confidence.

Across from the clothing lay the electronics. As I navigated towards the section, moving carefully across the rafters, trepidation began to sink into my heart. I picked up the sounds of shouting, and I strained my ears to listen in. Peaking in between the rafters, I noticed a group of four, all dressed in black and wearing ski masks. Two, a man and a woman, were carrying rifles, while the others bore pistols. On the floor between the four of them sat the hostages.

"I've got eyes on the hostages," I murmured.

"What's it look like in there?" Ned asked. I glanced over the two hostages. There was a middle-aged, red-haired man wearing a Wal-Mart uniform, and a young girl with curly black hair and a familiar jacket. I squinted, peering closer at the girl.

My heart stopped.

"Oh no..." I said. "No no no...'

"What is it?" Ned inquired, his voice spiked with panic.

"It's her, Ned," I replied in a rushed tone as terror shot through every inch of my body.

"Who?" Ned shouted. "Please tell me it's Jennifer Lawrence. That would be so hot."

"It's MJ!" I hissed, my voice starting to tremble.

"Michelle?" Ned screeched. "Are you kidding me?"

"What do I do?!" I asked to no one in particular.

"Well you can't let her die!" Ned answered. "She's the Decathlon Captain! We'll suck without her, and I need to get in as many extracurriculars as I can."

"Although Mr. Leed's priorities are a bit skewed," Karen broke in, "I agree that you should offer your assistance as soon as possible in ending this dilemma."

"Alright," I whispered. "I"m going in."

I sneaked noiselessly across the rafters, drawing ever closer. I could feel sweat dripping down my forehead underneath my suit, although I wasn't sure if it was from the heating system, or the pressure that had suddenly crashed into my pounding skull. As I paused directly above MJ and the rest, I finally caught on to the words of her captors.

"The cops are gonna storm this place any second," the woman was saying in a nervous tone, her words muffled ever so slightly underneath her mask. "We should just go. We'll get enough cash with all these devices." My eyes swung to the left, and I realized the man and woman with the rifles were both hefting large, bulging bags across their backs.

"That idiot manager will be back with the money from the safe in a minute, Cat," one of the men with a pistol growled. He suddenly reached towards MJ, grabbing the collar of her jacket and yanking her backward. Her face was etched in fear, but she remained silent as he jammed the business end of his pistol against the side of her head. "And if he plays any tricks, then we'll give these tiles a makeover with the girl's brains. I think red would add a nice bit of color, don't you think?" A wave of anger shot through my body like fuel as the man and his cronies burst into laughter, and MJ squirmed uncomfortably. Without another thought, I swung silently from the rafters, hovering just a few sparse inches above the man's head.

"If you ask me, I think yellow would be a better choice," I said, struggling to keep my voice calm.

The man whirled around, and was greeted with a thick web splattered across his face. Squealing like a newborn piglet, he began scraping away the webbing. I launched an aggressive kick into his stomach, sending hims sprawling to the floor, his gun clattering loudly onto the tiles.

"Then again," I continued, shrugging nonchalantly as the other three turned towards me. "I'm not much of an interior designer."

In the blink of an eye, the men sprung towards me while the woman attempted to gather the bags of stolen goods and keep a gun trained on MJ. Still dangling from the ceiling with one arm, I kicked off from a nearby stand, then shot a web around the two men as I spun in a tight circle around them. Stuck together, they shouted angrily as I snatched their weapons and deposited them by the first man's pistol.

Wal-Mart Man was making a run for it, and the woman let the employee run into the clothing section as she struggled to carry both of the massive bags while forcing MJ alongside of her.

"Hey!" I shouted, latching a web onto a pillar just ahead of them. "Why don't you try these electronics!" As I swung past, Karen switched to a personal favorite web-combination of ours, and I zapped the woman directly in the back. Electric tendrils zig-zagged across her torso, and she burst into a fit of convulsions, collapsing to the ground. "Yeah!" I exclaimed ecstatically, pumping a fist into the air in celebration.

Then, I face-planted into the pillar. Not my best moment, I admit. I slid to the floor, my face flaming brighter than the outside of my suit.

"Wow," an all-too familiar voice said from behind me as I picked myself off of the tiled floor. "So graceful." I gulped, trying to look casual as I spun around to see MJ dusting herself off.

"Are you ok?" I asked, my embarrassment forgotten as I noticed a bruise already swelling on the side of her face. I started forward, then stopped myself, clenching my fists as I cleared my throat. "I mean, they didn't harm you?"

"You could at least try not to sound like a prepubescent, Peter," Ned's voice teased in my ear.

"Nothing serious," MJ answered, crossing her arms over her chest as she studied me through narrowed eyes. "Do you remember me, Spider-Man?" she queried, her tone almost taunting. "D.C.? Washington Monument?" I swallowed the lump in my throat, pretending to appear shocked.

"Oh, D.C.," I said, chuckling lightly and waving the comment away. "Yeah, that was... that was nothing, really. Glad to do it."

"Um-hmm," MJ murmured, raising an eyebrow. "Well, you should really be going before the cops get here."

"Right, yeah," I replied, glancing upwards towards the rafters, shooting a web to the nearest beam. "Have a nice night M-" I coughed, correcting myself. "M-Ma'am. Have a nice night, ma'am."

"Hey," MJ called after me as I raised myself into the air towards the ceiling. "Thanks," she said, and I glanced down in time to see a rare smile light up her face.

"Y-yeah, no problem," I stammered, giving her a thumbs-up before scurrying back up to the rafters.

My heart slammed in my chest as the leftover adrenaline pumped through my blood.

"Sounding a little nervous there, Pete," Ned commented through the earpiece. "Don't get me wrong, she's cute and all -"

"Shut up, Ned," I riposted. "MJ's a friend. I... I just didn't want her to get hurt."

"Uh-huh," was Ned's response. I rolled my eyes, and didn't say anything else for the remainder of the journey back home. I re-entered my room through the window just as the clock struck 11 o'clock.

And thus another night as Spider-Man came to a close.

(Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought! Follow for more one-shots!)

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; Problematic Fave (Part 4/4); PG

He still has to ask Key what their favorite song is, too. He’s fairly certain that it’s “White T-Shirt,” but it might also be “Orbit,” because “Orbit” is exactly the kind of gay shit Key is into, even if it is a little slow.

ao3

1-2-3-4

Jonghyun,

Hey!! Taeminnie again. I’m on my couch writing this, all snuggly in blankies because Spring still hasn’t made up her mind and it’s raining pretty hard outside. I do love the rain, but I prefer to experience through a window rather than in the middle of it. I’m watching Key’s little pups while they’re at work so they’re up here with me. Key doesn’t like them on the couch but they’re really really warm and what Key doesn’t know won’t hurt them. I’ll send a pic for you to see!

Speaking of Key, they told me that they saw you coming out of a recording studio as they were going in the other day. Honestly, at this point, I think their feelings towards you are more complicated than mine ever were. They’re still mad at you in defense of me from nine months ago, but I think that’s mostly out of spite because I told them that they couldn’t stay mad forever. They also lowkey want to book you again for another shoot, really love your little line of accessories, and are extremely bitter that they like more than three songs on your She Is album. They won’t admit it, but ??????fuck i forgot??????? is their favorite song.

As for me, I think I’ve finally come to a conclusion for my favorite. I know, it’s been, like, three weeks, and I’ve cycled through all of them being my favorite (except “Moon,” and I’ve already explained what was wrong with that one), but I’m serious now. I really think that I like “Dress Up” the most. It feels weird to say that, seeing as how I always liked your softer songs the most, but I can’t deny that “Dress Up” is fun to jam to.

I wanted to tell you again that this comeback of yours has been so good and healing for me. The fun songs, the bright colors, the inherent and blatant queerness of everything, your pink hair…. All of it makes me feel bright and fuzzy on the inside. Before, your stuff would cheer me up just by being gentle and uplifting, but now it cheers me up by making me feel all excited and bouncy and validated. So, thanks for that!

Thank you for letting me love you, too. I know I say it a lot, but it’s just nice to have a fave to think of and love and feel all fuzzy about again. Maybe I’ll get a real romantic datefriend one day and be able to be super gay with them, or maybe I’ll friend marry Key and get all of my emotional fulfillment from that, but until then, it’s nice to draw comfort from you. Thanks for letting me and, really, all of your fans do that. I know it’s kind of part of the job description of being an celeb, but still. It means a lot to a lot of us that you put so much of yourself out there and act as support for us, even from afar.

This is getting kind of long, so I’ll stop here. I know this week is your last week of promotions, so good luck on all of your music shows and I hope you’re having a nice day!!

Love, Lee Taemin ❤

P.S.: If you ever see Key again and they try to give you two dollars, just take it and pretend like you know what it’s for.

Taemin hums to himself as he reads his letter over. That’s a pretty good first draft, he thinks, and he’s pretty sure that his opinion isn’t affected at all by how he’s hanging half upside-down off of the couch and squinting at it on his phone.

Key’s little pupps snooze gently, one in his lap and one nuzzled against his leg. Taemin scrunches his nose. Hmm. Maybe he won’t send Jonghyun a picture of his lower half, even if there are cute dogs in it. That would be kind of weird, he thinks. Maybe he can get Key to--oh, no, he’ll have to scoot them off of the couch before Key comes to pick them up so he doesn’t get in trouble. Dang.

He still has to ask Key what their favorite song is, too. He’s fairly certain that it’s “White T-Shirt,” but it might also be “Orbit,” because “Orbit” is exactly the kind of gay shit Key is into, even if it is a little slow.

Taemin’s left eye scrunches when he reads over the little paragraph about his favorite song. Every time he thinks about “Moon” he feels all gross inside and he should really stop thinking about it, but he just. Wants to passive aggressively remind Jonghyun that it was gross at least one more time in his letters. After this one he’ll start working on forgetting it exists. At least it helps him keep his love for Jonghyun grounded.

“Dress Up,” though. “Dress Up” is good.

The whole comeback is good, and as Temin scans his letter he feels himself warming up inside all over again. A smile cracks open his face, cheeks flushing as pink as Jonghyun’s lovely, lovely, lovely hair. It’s so nice and fun and bouncy and--

“Fuck,” Taemin hisses. He was turning halfway over to smile into his carpet and his legs slipped off of the couch. He crumples gracelessly, grunting softly as he struggles to get his hands under him and push himself up. “God, fuck,” he mutters. Pushing his bangs out of his face, he leans against his couch to just blink for a moment and let the blood rush out of his brain and into the rest of him.

Key’s little pups whine and snuffle at him, Garcons's wet little nose booping his temple. Taemin leans away, then lifts a hand to pet their soft little heads.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells them. “Mwah.” He kissies Garcons's little head when he keeps nuzzling at him. The press of his lips seems to calm the pup and Taemin vaguely wonders if that has anything to do with the way Key pulls themself out of anxiety attacks with a million little kissies to who or whatever is nearby. Probably.

Instead of trying to clamber back onto the couch, he slowly slides himself the rest of the way off and rolls to lie on his tummy. Tugging a pillow down from the couch, he holds it under his chin as he finds his phone again. A pup hops down from the couch and wiggles to curl up on his butt; glancing over his shoulder, he finds Comme Des. He lazily reaches behind himself to give him a little pat before he looks back to his phone to finish scanning his letter.

Blah blah blah, blah blah dogs, Key blah blah, songs blah, the comeback makes Taemin’s soul feel alive, blah blah… aha. Taemin reads over the next paragraph with his top lip between his teeth. Hmm. Feels a little repetitive in places. He’ll work on that. The P.S. he has to work on too; he wants it to be in the actual letter and not a P.S. He’ll figure out how to add it in without making it seem too bulky or whatever. Besides that, though….

“I think this is good,” Taemin hums to himself. He lifts the phone up to Garcons on the couch so he can see. “What do you think?” he asks. The little pup sniffs his hand and then licks him. Taemin assumes that means “yes” and gives Garcons a little scritch behind his ears. Then he rolls to his back--apologizing again for disturbing Comme Des and letting him snuggle up under his arm instead--and taps his letter to edit it.

Honestly, he missed how fun this was; just sitting here and editing out his thoughts and feelings. Thinking them over and figuring out exactly what he wants to say is so… calming. Even his first letter back where he sent, like, three pages detailing his entire emotional response to everything was soothing. Since he started writing to Jonghyun again his anxiety has been better than it has in months and he’s been able to reason his worries away almost as well as he could before he even got all hecked up in the first place. He thinks he might start up a diary anyway, in addition to his almost-weekly letters to Jonghyun. It might get him back to where he started.

As he’s deleting a word in the third paragraph, his phone vibrates in his hand with a text from Key. He hums. Now would be a good time to ask about their favorite song, yeah, before he forgets again. He opens the texts of the day and scans them quickly: “good morning egghead,” “I’ll bring you a muffin when I drop the kids off,” “do you think thick stripes or thin stripes look better in plaid,” “one of these days I’m gonna say something important and you’re gonna regret letting my texts pile up,” and “wow okay I know I just said that as a joke but I can not Fucking believe this and u gotta reply rn or I’m gonna call you!!!”

“Hmm,” Taemin hums again. He scrunches his face in confusion. What. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Key use any punctuation in a text, let alone three whole exclamation points. He sits up, resting one elbow on the couch so he can focus better on his phone as he texts back, “Thick stripes and also what’s your favorite song of Jonghyun’s again and also What???”

Taemin isn’t sure if it’s the immediateness of Key’s reply or the contents of it that makes him drop his phone. Either way, he hisses and scrambles to pick it up and confirm that what he thinks he saw is really is what he thought he saw.

It is: Key sent him a picture of them with Jonghyun, like, right next to each other, taking a selfie, together, Key looking huffy and annoyed and Jonghyun smiling gently with one hand kind of blurry in a little wave.

Taemin can’t fucking believe it, either.

“Ohmhy fuc k ign gdo,” he texts back. He is so upset and jealous. What the fuck. This is so unfair. It’s not even that Key is with Jonghyun and he isn’t, or that Key doesn’t appreciate Jonghyun’s loveliness, or even that he’s so far up Jonghyun’s ass again that it burns him up on the inside to not be there; it’s that that morning Key literally offered to take him to work with them and he declined. It’s his own dang fault that he isn’t blushing and smiling and hiding behind Key’s arm with his heart making him all giddy right now.

“I went to a radio station to grab a friend to hang out with and he was here and he says hi,” Key texts him next. Taemin groans quietly and wilts back down to the floor, texting back a single frowny face. Then he throws his arm dramatically over his eyes and whines again. Heck. Hecking fuck. He does not believe. Lifting his arm just enough to see his text, he types “Tell him i’m in the middle of writing a letter to him.”

“I’m not playing back and forth between u two jfc,” is Key’s reply. Taemin huffs, then sighs. Yeah, that’s kind of what he figured they would say. “listen tho he’s trying to give me a free album bc I guess that’s a thing that singers do but I don’t want it so do u want me to tell him to just sign it to you instead,” Key sends next. Taemin gasps this time, suddenly all excited again. He sits up quickly, then grunts and lies back down, pressing his hand to his forehead under his bangs to fight the sudden wooziness. Whoops. Key’s pups nuzzle and whine at him; Taemin doesn’t know if it’s from worry or annoyance at his constant movement.

“Yes pls,” he texts back, and then scoops both dogs up in his arms to snuggle them under his chin. With two soft little fuzzballs against him and the prospect of a bright, shiny, new, signed album coming his way soon, Taemin feels his inside get all warm and fuzzy again very quickly. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life than the fact that he loves his fave and he loves being able to love him.

[itbethatwaysometime]

Uncharted - Part 9

Word Count: 2.6k (longer than usual lmao)

Warnings: Nothing in particular

A/n: I’m back y’all.. a little late but hey, it’s up. Also I’m gonna on a little adventure and see if I can find Tom holland. wHAT? yep, you heard me. Anyways, the place where he filmed his story is like 20 mins away from my house tbh… Part 1

https://myfandomsbeatcancersass.tumblr.com/post/167815657903/uncharted-part-10-relationship-bucky-barnes-x Part 10 a>

The rest of the plane ride passes without incident. Other than feeling two eyes burn through all the layers of protection you had on. He hadn’t said anything since your last brief exchange, not that you were expecting him to. Steve had come in a few times and that was bittersweet.

You’d had to hold back the blonde super soldier more than once, knowing that if he went in to “check on Bucky” even if he was probably just looking to fawn over his long lost best friend. Although you knew you didn’t have a choice but to keep him at a distance, it still pained your heart to see Steve wanting to go and talk so bad, to reminisce. You reassured him plenty, saying that once they were back, he’d get to talk to him as much as he was willing to. Steve understood, of course, but he still sat slumped against his chair, his head resting in his palm.

He doesn’t do much. He was surprisingly still. He only fidgeted when someone entered the left wing or when you made movements to abrupt. You mentally made a note not to use a toaster around him.

He didn’t do any pacing, or tapping. He just crossed his long legs and sat comfortably against the far wall, making sure he had a vantage point of who came in and out of the room. His long hair was shaggy and hung low on his crystal blue eyes. His worn hands were crossed on his lap where the metal one still glinted from the fluorescent lights.

You were itching to ask him questions. You were naturally curious and he just… intrigued you. He seemed so reserved, asking anything was obviously pushing boundaries neither of you were ready to cross, given the fact that you just met and barely knew each other.  But, the prospect of getting to know him was strangely enticing, he lured you in. It was an odd feeling, one you definitely weren’t familiar with. Just sitting there, he was dominating the room, his presence was like a stone statue in a museum.

Maybe, there was a reason you were the one assigned with this “task”. You could handle a little bit  of intrigue while remaining professional.

Clint’s voice over the comms interrupts your thoughts. “20 mins till’ landing, guys.”

You hear some commotion on the other side of the jet and chuckle to yourself quietly. They might be superheroes on the news, but they’re just huge dorks to you. That’s when you catch him staring at you. He isn’t gaping or… admiring, he’s analyzing in a very non-threatening way. He looks like he’s gauging whether or not he could trust you, for real this time. He doesn’t do it predatorily, he isn’t stripping you and staring into your soul. He’s just, thinking.

“How’s Steve?” Are the first words he utters since the trip back began. You smiled fondly at the depth of emotion and meaning behind the words. Barely two, but enough to convey his worry, his concern, his sadness, his guilt, his pain and everything in between. It comes out rough, like sandpaper, but the look in his eyes is hopeful. That’s an improvement. Talking about Steve seemed to lighten his demeanour.

“He’s good,” you pause, he’s his best friend, might as well tell him everything, “But, he struggles still, waking up from the ice was hard on him. He has bad days, and he’s getting better at handling them.” You were about to add the fact that he misses Bucky, so much, it was a painful to watch sometimes.

Hearing countless stories of their childhood escapades, while Steve has that distance look in his eyes. The one that holds so much weight and bores holes into whatever surface he’s looking at. Whenever he has a flashback or a certain memory pops up, his shoulders sag and a frown is always present.

But sometimes, Steve sported a bittersweet smile that doesn’t quite light up his eyes. That’s probably worst than the hunched shoulders and distant stares.

You don’t tell him that, not yet, he’s got enough on his plate.

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks down at his lap and a flicker of sadness passes over his handsome features, you couldn’t help but notice it.

Before you could say anything, there’s a knock on the door and a head of blonde hair peeks through.

“(Y/n), Fury wants you in on the debriefing.” You internally groan, dreading the few hours to come. Debriefing was essential but it took years, Fury always wanted to go over every detail, most of the time whoever gets chosen to deal with the task just gets fed up and walks out. Maybe, it’s the curse of the newbie. “Buck, you gotta come with me.”

He nods and stands, his large frame towering over you. His body is turned towards you, hiding Steve’s view of your face.

For a second, he seems to panic. It’s obvious he’s uncomfortable, he’s going somewhere new, with people he doesn’t know, to do things he doesn’t know about. You had to go about this carefully, saying the wrong thing can trigger and damage and you definitely were too tired to deal with a Winter Soldier.

You decide to go with:” I’ll see you later, James.” And that seemed to be the right thing to say because, his shoulders aren’t as tense and relief seemed to flood into him like cool water on a hot summer day. You watched him walk out with a little bit more assurance in his steps.

You don’t stay to find out what’s going to happen to him, whatever it is, you know it wouldn’t be bad, but you had your fair share of James Buchanan Barnes for today and you needed to keep your mind off him and his blue eyes, tall frame and soft shaggy hair.

———

“Sir, with all due respect, we’ve gone over the same thing three times and I really just want a hot shower and some sleep.” You sigh exasperatedly. You’ve been in the conference room with Fury and Maria for well over two hours and you were starting to drift off right at the table.

“Alright, Agent (L/n). You are dismissed”Fury says.

Thank God. You didn’t if you could take another minute of going through your strategies and all the different contingency issues.

Walking out of the conference room, you shrug off your overcoat and trek the rest of the way to your apartment. Your feet drag across the floor and your limbs were heavy. Waiting in the elevator slumped against the wall felt like an eternity. And finally, the metal doors opened, just a few more feet until you’d be home.

But before you reached your door, you hear hushed voices arguing from Steve’s apartment, the door still slightly open.

You’re suddenly wide awake and you go into a stand-still, willing yourself to listen closely.

“I know you don’t like it Steve, but we have to.” You hear the voice that you recognize as Natasha.

“No we don’t! He’s not some wounded animal, Nat.  We can’t just keep him in there.”

That peeked your curiosity. Surprisingly, you hadn’t thought about Bucky since you got off the plane. But right now, your mind was racing. Where did he go after you left? Is he okay? Are they treating him right? Is he alone? What are they doing to him? You feel your heart racing with worry.

He’d already been through enough poking analyzing, you hoped they wouldn’t do that or at least Tony would do it in the confines of his labs.

“I know he isn’t. But whatever Hydra did to him is still in there Steve! You can’t deny that” Nat’s voice was even.

And suddenly you could here all the fight draining out of him. “I know.”

You thought that was the perfect time to intervene. As much as the public eye sees him an unbeatable super hero, there were times where the past caught up him, dragging him down as if a bunch of stones were attached to your ankles, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. He needed someone to pull him back up, stop him from drowning and let some fresh air into his lungs.

You knock on the door quietly, announcing your presence. Natasha’s bright hair whips around and she smiles upon seeing you. You two had grown close over the last few months spending a lot of your time training and discovering new fighting styles and techniques. You bonded easily, her being the only other woman in the compound, other than you and Wanda who tended to hang more around her brother than anyone else.

“You did good out there.” She says, give you a short hug. She says goodbye to Steve and makes a hasty exit.

“Hey, Stevie.” Steve hated it when other people called him that particular nickname, but coming from you, he didn’t mind all that much, it was almost motherly.

He sighs heavily and hangs his head low. “I don’t know what to do, (Y/n).” He says quietly. You grab his arm gently to get him to look at you.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Just focus on getting cleaned up for now. I’ll do the same and I’ll be back. We’ll talk about it then.” You send him a reassuring smile.

All he does is breathe in deeply through his nose and whisper a thank you with a sad smile.

You walk into your bedroom shrugging of all the clothes and head straight into your shower, washing away the day’s grime and dirt. Your mind wanders back to the Soldier, unconsciously or consciously. He just seemed so mysterious, as cliche as it sounded.

All you wanted to do is find out more.

You towel and change into comfortable clothing before slipping into your kitchen to grab some leftovers for Steve. You’ve learned over time that he eats the daily intake of an elephant and it’s family so you always made double the recipe of whatever you were making that day.

“I’m back.” You say entering his apartment. He’s already seated on the couch with a bunch of pillows and blankets.

He’s in a soft sweatshirt and pants now and he’s looking a little better now, less pale and definitely less haunted.

You sit down and cross your legs under you, carefully balancing the casserole between you and handing him a fork.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Steve liked to keep things bundled up inside for as long as possible, thinking that he could deal with it himself, not wanting to burden anyone else. You normally had to gently coax him into talking, a trick you learned from Sam at the VA meetings, but also from being such close friends with Steve.

Today was different,  it was as plain as day. With Bucky’s return he seemed so much lighter, as if a heavy weight on his shoulders had been taken off, but at the same time, there was something else that had formed, and you weren’t sure what it was.

“They put him in a cell (y/n).” He drops his face into his hands. The bite of food you were going to take stopping mid-air. What?

“What do you mean they put him in a cell?” You repeat, dumbly.

“They- They need to contain him to remove whatever Hydra did, and they put him in a cell.” He straightens his back and slouches back down.

You understood why they would do that. The things they did were despicable and Bucky’s state of mind was very fragile. But, they needed to fix him, not contain him.

“Do you know where?” You asked him gently, maybe, you’d pay him a visit.

“Ya, it’s in the basement, Level 2. (Y/n), you don’t understand. The look in his eyes…” He trails off, recalling the memory. “They aren’t letting me see him. Not yet, anyways.”

That pisses you off. How the hell are you supposed to keep Steve Rogers from Bucky Barnes?

“Are you serious? I’m going to have a talk with Tony.” You declare. “Who’s working on him?”

“Some of the scientists from the compound.” He answers, eating another bite.

You hum as an answer. Deciding it was time to forget all the emotional trauma, you out on a movie that was on Steve’s to watch list.

You both snuggle and fall asleep watching The Way of The Dragon, and the only thing you could remember is Steve making an off-hand comment :” You kind of fight like him.”

——–

You woke up the next day on Steve’s couch alone. He probably went out for a run at some ungodly hour.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was already ten thirty. Remembering the conversation you had with Steve last night, you get dressed in a hurry and go to find Tony.

As usual he’s in his lab, tinkering away, even after a mission.

“Heyyyy, sweetums, how’s it going?”  He asks when you enter in the room.

“Good. Good.” He looks at you weirdly from his position behind the table. He’s obviously perplexed by your simple answer and he knows you either need something from him, or dying to ask a question. He stares at you for a few more seconds before you cave in. “I need to ask you a question.” Bingo.

“And what might that question be.” He rolls his workbench towards you.

“Who’s working on Bucky?” You ask cautiously, Bucky was a sensitive subject to Tony and you could see him tense.

“The scientist’s working in the compound. Why?” He replies suspiciously.

“It can’t be them.”

“Why not? They’re the best in the industry and they’re the most qualified –”

“That’s not the problem” You roll your eyes. You knew that they were the best at what they did and that they were fully equipped. But, that didn’t matter.

“Then what is?”

“He- he doesn’t know them.” With all the shit he’s been through, you wouldn’t imagine him wanting to be tested on again by some strangers.

“So, (Y/n) all he needs is to-”

“Tony, don’t you think he’s been through enough.” You snapped, you were surprised by our own little outburst, but you kept going. “He’s been stuck being tested on and tortured by shitty people he doesn’t know for the past seventy years,” you soften your voice a little,” don’t you think he deserves a little familiarity?”

There’s a pregnant pause. Tony had agreed to let him stay here, doesn’t mean he had to like it.

“He killed my parents! Now, you want me to help him?” He half shouts. He hated fighting with you.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do because it may have been his hands and his body doing it, but his mind and his heart wasn’t in it. That man spends his days regretting what he’s done and remembering what they made him do.” Your tirade ends with both of you breathing hard, fists clenched.

“Why do you care so much? You’ve only met him once.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Tony. Everyone, including him.” You end softly. It’s the truth and you were hoping Tony would see it too.

“Ok. Ok, fine. But, I’m not making any promises.” He rubs a hand over his face. “And Banner’s in on it too.” You smile wide and jump up and down on the spot in triumph.

You run up and give him a big hug and thank him again.

You couldn’t wait to tell Steve.

And Bucky.

tag list;

@the-avengers-initiative99 @wantingtobekorra @i-love-superhero @bexboo616 @sophiealliice @moonlightimagination @grey-stardancer @xxkweenjoxx @sassycat15 @carefullyawake @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @talim258

[dreamthinkimagine]

Mind-Meld

For the Anon who asked for this! Thanks for the prompt and I hope you like it!

“You have to do a mind-meld, Spock,” Leonard “Bones” McCoy said to the Vulcan First Officer. Below them, laying on the bio-bed, was an unconscious Jim Kirk.

“Doctor, it would be more wise to inject the Captain with-”

“I know, but we’re all out. Gonna get some more on our next stop, but I don’t wanna wait that long. Now, if your Vulcan-mind-reading can make someone forget something, make them think like you, transfer information, and maybe even restore memory, not to mention that his mind can’t even affect yours in his state, then a mind-meld is worth a shot.”

“Very well,” Spock said and knelt down. He placed his hands on Jim’s forehead and chin.

“Well?” McCoy waited for an answer, but wouldn’t get one.

As Spock traveled to Jim’s ventrolateral preoptic nucleus, one of more parts of a human brain that helps control sleeping and waking, not only could he hear McCoy’s ‘Answer me you pointed-eared Vulcan’, he discovered some information about his friend.

Apparently, Jim had a secret love for the classic game, “Bingo”, craved cheese and crackers when he was frustrated, had a twentieth century photo album with photos of him and every single person on the ship, was quite insecure, very ticklish and - Spock couldn’t focus too much on it now, even though he already saw what it was, because he was there. Jim’s ventrolateral preoptic nucleus. He placed his hands on it and said, “Wake up. You are waking up, James Kirk.”

In the Sickbay, McCoy was about to yell at Spock again for not answering him, when Jim’s eyes opened. Spock was, once again, in the Sickbay.

“Bones,” Jim said. “What happened?”

“You were training with a crewman. When you got to combat...you lost.” When Bones cleared Jim to go, Spock decided to discuss what he saw with the doctor. Spock whispered it into his non-pointed ear and Bones couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face and the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Really?”

“You have heard me correctly, Doctor.” Seeing the doctor was satisfied, Spock left.

Since Spock assumed that everyone else would have the same reaction as Bones, he told everyone he saw for the rest of the day; and they all had the exact same reaction. Additionally, he figured Jim might like if they knew.

***

When Jim stepped out of his Quarters the next morning, Scotty, who was passing by, gave him a tweak on the side. Jim straightened out and squeaked.

“Mornin’, Captain!” He poked his ribs and Jim’s arm shot up to protect himself and he giggled. He straightened himself out again and lowered his voice.

“Scotty, what are you doing?” Scotty shrugged.

“Just thought you’d like a laugh, Captain.” Note to self, Kirk thought. Have McCoy check Scotty. He continued down the hall and onto the Bridge.

Anyone who passed him on the Bridge made sure to give him a quick tickle. Sulu went after his ribs. Chekov poked at his collarbones. Uhura scratched his neck. Yeoman Rand attacked his underarms when he went to give her back the PADD she needed him to sign. Even Spock squeezed his knees and eventually directly above them.

What’s going on? Kirk thought to himself. Why is everybody tickling me?

“Sickbay to Bridge.” Kirk pushed the button on the arm of his chair.

“Kirk here.”

“Captain, Scotty’s fine, and I want to see you in Sickbay.”

“Why?”

“To check you after your incident yesterday.” After an injury, or in Kirk’s case, a knock-out, Bones always checked up on it for a few days after they’d been allowed to leave Sickbay. Just to be on the safe side.  

“Spock, you have the Comm,” Kirk said as he got up and walked into the turbolift. As he walked to Sickbay, everyone who passed him was sure to poke, prod and/or scratch at ticklish spots; and each time Jim squrimed and laughed and giggled. Or if someone got a very sensitive spot, they earned themselves a squeal.

“Was that you squealin’?” Bones asked as Jim entered. The look in Jim’s eyes told the doctor all he needed to know. Jim sat down on the biobed and Bones scanned him, making sure everything was all still working fine - which everything was. Once he was done, and he didn’t tell Jim that he was done, he had him lay down.

“I gotta check your stomach.” Before Jim could question, he was thrown into a world of laughter as Bones “checked” his belly. He folded in on himself and tried to use his arms and legs to shield himself as he laughed, but it did no good. A squeeze here, a scratch there. A giggle here, some panicked laughter there. He decided that Jim had had enough and stopped. For now. Jim laid on the bed panting and curled up.

“Why,” Jim asked as he began to catch his breath. “Is everybody tickling me?”

“Spock told us.”

“What?”

“Found out you were ticklish while mind-melding with you yesterday to wake you up.” Jim got up and headed for the door, but he stopped and turned around. His face was made up with mischief. “I gotta get some revenge on him. Then, you.” When he was out the door, Bones made a mental list of places to avoid for the next few days.

***

Shifts ended before Jim got back to the Bridge. People saw the difference in him from earlier - now he hungered for revenge. No one dared touch him now, lest he tickle them to the ground, or insanity; whichever came first.  

“Spock,” Jim greeted. “We need to have a meeting for our upcoming mission. We’re going to the conference room.”

“Who else is required to attend, Captain?”

“No one else. Let’s go.”

“Captain, I have a short business to attend to. May I meet you there?” It was hard, but Kirk allowed it. He wanted revenge, but whatever Spock had to do might be important. And his crew and ship came first.

***

“Well, before we begin,” Kirk said once Spock arrived and sat down. “I really would like to thank you for yesterday. For bringing me back.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Next time, though, please don’t go rummaging through my personal information and then telling everyone about it. Now, let’s begin.” Jim lunged and tackled the half-Vulcan.

As Spock tried to figure out his friend’s illogic, he felt a scratching sensation on his stomach. He sat up and raised an eyebrow. Kirk noticed this and moved to his sides. Nothing. He tried his neck. Nada. Ribs? Nope. Knees? Zilch. He even slipped his fingers under Spock’s arms. No. No reaction.

“You’re not ticklish?”

“Negative, Jim.” Jim could have sworn that he saw Spock smirk at him. With that, Spock pounced and scratched at his ribs.

“Hahahahahaha!”

“Jim, when I explored your mind, I discovered another piece of information which I decided not to inform the crew, except Dr. McCoy, as I figured you may be embarrassed. You enjoy being tickled.” There was no use in denying it at this point. ‘A logical choice,’ Spock would have said. Jim, through his laughter, nodded.

Suddenly, Spock switched to his neck, causing giggles to flow out of Jim’s mouth and Spock was basking in the sound. It must have been so difficult being a Starship Captain, he needed laughter. Spock’s eyes brightened at the sight of his best friend’s happiness.

“If my memory serves correctly, another spot humans tend to be sensitive is here.” Spock shoved his hands under Jim’s arms and Jim started to buck.

“HAhahahahaha!! Spohohock!” When he lowered his hands to just under the armpits, Jim howled.

“Is there any place you are most susceptible?” Spock asked and moved to Jim’s thighs. Jim was too busy laughing to answer, when he completely froze and gasped. When he looked at his hand, he realized he had placed it on Jim’s left hip. He looked at Jim’s face. A wide smile took place on it, causing his eyes to crinkle. Spock could tell that Jim was purely happy, so he began to kneed Jim’s hips.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Are you having, what humans call, ‘fun’, Jim?” If Jim didn’t like it, Spock would stop. He was just trying to be a good friend. He saw that Jim liked it. It made him happy and lifted his stress off of his shoulders for a little while. If Jim didn’t like it, it would only add to his stress.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Jim nodded. Spock could tell that Jim didn’t have a care weighing him down right now, so kept it up for another minute. When Jim started to have trouble breathing, Spock stopped and helped him up.

“Thanks,” Jim said once he caught his breath.

“Anytime, Captain. Stress is most illogical.”

“How did you know -?”

“You are a Starship Captain. One can assume that the position invokes great stress upon those who command.”

“You’re a good friend, Mr. Spock.”

“As are you, Jim.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.” On that note, they parted their separate ways, ready for some rest.

When Jim got back to his Quarters, he found a few things laid out nicely on his bed. A “Bingo” board with a coupon labeled: “One Free Bingo Game”. There were boxes of crackers and a wheel of Vulcan cheese. A photograph of Jim and Spock after their first mission that was taken by - well, Jim didn’t know that. Or how Spock got it. Then here were two versions of the same list : ”Reasons why Jim Kirk is Just as Good as Everyone Else”. One was in alphabetical order and the other was in order of importance. The last thing was a note. It read: “Thought you could use these. - Spock”.

He smiled as he drifted to sleep and got Bones back the next day, only to be attacked again by the crew two hours later. And as he laughed, he knew that today was a good day.

[capbucky-0506]

Our Missing Piece Part 20

PART 20 IN THE HOOOOUSE You look up at Stark Tower to see Thor and Loki fighting. "These idiots," you mutter, taking off in the other direction. As you run, you see the quinjet appear. "Stark, we're heading northeast," you hear Tasha on comms. "What, did you stop for drive thru?" You run through destruction and terrified people. I'm not doing enough, you thought. You quickly form a path of ice on the ground beneath you and begin to skate on it (like Frozone!!). As you pass any Chitauri, you expand the ice to reach and freeze them instantly. You shield any civilians from the fight and impale more aliens. Take that, bitches, you thought. After a while, you make it to a four-way street, where Steve, Tasha, and Clint are running out of the Quinjet, which had clearly crashed. "Are you guys okay?", you ask. "We're fine," Steve replies. "And you?" "I'm good. Froze a few aliens. Literally 'broke the ice'. The usual." "Loki?" "Stark and I confronted him. He pushed Stark off the building. Last I saw him, he was fighting Thor." "You're brother's a real pain in the-" A large shadow casts over all of you. As you look up, your heart sinks. A Chitauri Leviathan comes through the portal, leading more of its soldiers. "Shit," you whisper. Steve steps forward. "Stark, are you seeing this?" You hear Tony over comms. "I'm seeing, still working on believing. Where's Banner? Has he shown up yet?" Steve looks at you. "Banner?" "Just keep me posted," Tony says. You turn to Steve. "I saw some people trapped in their car. I'm going to try to get them to safety. You guys keep fighting. I'll meet up with you soon." You turn to leave. "Y/N, wait!" You whip around and see Steve coming toward you. Soon he's close enough for him to kiss you. You try to catch your breath. "Stay safe," he whispers, hesitating before kissing your cheek. You nod and whisper "you too" before taking off, shaken by what just happened. You race to the car you glanced at a minute ago and see a man near it, trying to force the door open. He sees you and yells, "Help me, please! My husband and daughter are in there!" You grab the door handle of the car and rip it open, you strength increasing in that moment. You carry the man's daughter out of the car and help his husband stumble out. They embrace. "Thank you," the little girl whispers. You smile. "No, thank YOU for being so brave." You hear a loud crash behind you and whip around to see one of the soldiers begin to shoot at you. You grab your sword and deflect the blasts being shot. With one swift move, you slice the soldiers head off, freezing it in the process. Then, you turn to the family behind you. "Get underground, now! Stay together, and stay safe!" "What's your name?" "Frost! Now go! Go!" They nod and take off, heading for the subway. You start running towards the bridge, freezing any Chitauri soldiers in your way. When you get there, you see Steve, Tasha, and Clint arrive. Tasha immediately hugs you. "Did you save them?" You nod, then see a bolt of lightning appear, followed by Thor. "What's the story upstairs?", Steve asks. "The power surrounding the Tesseract is impenetrable," Thor replies. Tony appears on comms. "Thor is right. We gotta deal with these guys. We could use about four more girls, Y/N." "Already here, bitches!" You laugh as Naomi, Eliza, Camila, and Jasmine run toward you. You and Tasha quickly meet up with them and join in on a group hug. When you all let go, Natasha speaks up. "Ok ok, focus. Thanks for being here, girls, but how do we do this? How do we deal with these guys?" "As a team," the 5 of you and Steve say at the same time. "I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor cuts in. "Yea, get in line," Clint mutters. "Save it," Steve says. "Loki's gonna keep this fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him these things could run wild. We got Stark up top, he's gonna need us-" You stifle a laugh as Bruce arrives on a small motorcycle. You walk over and engulf him in a hug as he gets off. "So, this all seems horrible," he says. "I've seen worse," Tasha replies. "Sorry." "No, we could use a little worse." "Stark? We got him," Steve says. Once again, Tony comes up on comms. "Banner?" "Just like you said." "Then tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you." Tony flys in, followed by the Chitauri Leviathan. "How the FUCK is that a party?", you, Naomi, Jasmine, Eliza, and Camila say in unison. Banner begins to walk towards the Leviathan. "Dr. Banner," Steve says. "Now might be a really good time for you to get angry." "That's my secret, Captain," Bruce replies. "I'm always angry." Bruce instantly transforms into the Hulk and uses his strength to stop the Leviathan, which begins to flip over. Tony fires a rocket at the creature and blows it up. "Wow," Jasmine whispers. She's essentially a She-Hulk, so Bruce has been her role model for the longest. Tony lands down to meet up with the rest of you. "Ladies," he says to the girls. "Idiot." "Ego." "Asshole." "Dumbass." They shoot Tony a smile as they reply. "I love the dynamic we have," he says back. You all hear a loud noise and look up to see more Chitauri Leviathans flying in. That's when you all get into position. Earth's Mightiest Heroes, united to protect the country, to protect the world. The original six and the warriors of Asgard, all together for one purpose-to save the world. Jasmine turns green, preparing for the final fight. "Guys," Tasha says. "Call it, Cap," Tony adds in. Steve turns to all of you. "Alright, listen up. Until we can close that portal up there, we're gonna use containment. Barton, I want you on that roof, eyes on everything. Naomi, I want you on the roof near that one. Call out patterns and strays. Stark, Eliza, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or your turn it to ash." Naomi creates a big plant to lift her to the roof. She shoots a smile at Clint as he rolls his eyes. "Can you give me a lift?", he asks Tony. "Right. Better clench up, Legolas," he replies as he takes off with Barton. Eliza follows, being trailed by a flame. "Thor, you've gotta try and bottleneck that portal. Slow them down. You've got the lightning. Light the bastards up." Thor takes off, aiming for the sky. Then Steve turns to you, Tasha, and Camila. "The four of us, we stay here on the ground keep the fighting here." Finally, Steve turns to Jasmine and Bruce. "And Hulks. SMASH." They smile and jump onto nearby buildings, destroying any Chitauri in their way. "Let's go, slowpokes," you say as you start freezing more aliens.