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ferigrievous · 4 months ago

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ouuuh okay yay!!! I hope this won’t be too difficult for you, but can I request Lightning Genji (One Punch Man) w an S/O who’s WAY taller than him and looooves to pick him up and swing him around? And once ever did he do it in public while Genji was on patrol because he was so excited to see him… anything is fine really !!!!

caught in the current.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ you have spent a lifetime learning restraint, but not with him. never with him.

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; 1.9k

a.n ; sorry this took so long !!!! ive been swamped with school work ohgh my god and im so sorry if this is ass im not really happy with this but i hope this is still ok for you !! thank u for ur req :3c

absence made the heart reckless.

you werent the lightest on your feet. growing up, you often had new cuts and bruises daily, not because you were out fighting on the streets, but because you had such a bad depth perception that you couldnt even walk straight in your own home. you had tried ‘baby proofing’ your home, hiding wires where you couldn't trip over them, covering corners with some sort of foam, but it wasnt enough. you were sure you’d trip over air if you had the chance.

you had always been the kind of person who took up space—not just physically, but in the way you carried yourself, in the way your presence turned heads and commanded attention without effort. towering over most, you moved through life with an ease that belied your strength, a force of nature in your own right. you never quite learned restraint when it came to those you cared for, touch coming as naturally as breathing. and genji—unlucky, unwilling genji—had become your favorite subject.

your relationship with him was a paradox, a constant tug-of-war between his strict composure and your relentless affection. he was rigid, a soldier of discipline and control, while you were a storm of reckless love, sweeping him into the chaos of your orbit. he liked to pretend your presence didn’t shake him, that he was immune to the way you always found a way to pull him closer, but you knew better. despite the grumbles, despite the exasperated sighs, he never truly fought back. never truly told you no.

somewhere along the way, picking him up had stopped being a joke and simply became routine. it didn’t matter if he was standing, sitting, or mid-conversation—you had a way of finding his center of gravity, lifting him as if he weighed nothing at all. maybe it was the contrast that made it so addicting, the way he was lightning itself, yet in your grasp, he was grounded, weightless.

and two days away was two days too long.

you had never been good with distance, never good at holding yourself back. space, time, restraint—things you were meant to understand as a hero, yet failed miserably at when it came to the people you cared about. especially genji.

patience and self control were, and had always been, an unknown concept to you. you loved hard, loved to the point of irrationality. you always considered yourself an affectionate person, the kind of person who hugged too tight, who held onto hands for just a moment longer than normal, who never hesitated to reach out and touch others. but with genji, that affection was magnified by a thousand.

you knew you were probably too much. people would call you clingy, call you needy, say that you were taking up too much of his time. hell, you were pretty sure genji himself had called you all that plenty of times before.

he was a victim of such affections, against his will, being subjected to hugs that were so tight it was borderline claustrophobic, being hauled off of his feet without warning, being pulled close, forced to lay down his defenses and face the onslaught of affection that you bestowed upon him.

and he would grumble, argue, protest, but never truly deny you.

you really couldnt help yourself. it was as if there was a magnetic pull, from your hands, to his skin. you just had to have some form of contact with him, linking pinkies, shoulder brushes, hugs. lifting him into your lap, sitting next to him and finding a way to bring your thighs together, finding ways to get under his shirt, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, burying your nose into his neck.

you loved to touch him. to hold him close. to pull him against your chest and bury your face against the slope of his neck, hands curled in the fabric of his shirt. you relished the way he stilled, frozen in your hold, face turned sharply away so that you couldn't see whatever expression marred his face.

and you were sure, if there was someone else in your life who loved you as dearly as he, who would let you touch him, hold him, love him as freely as genji did, that they too, would be subject to the affection. it just so happened that there was no one, and, you found, that you were quite alright with that.

the mission had been routine, a clean-up job in a neighboring city, nothing too strenuous. but what they failed to account for was your patience, or rather, your complete lack of it. the work was easy. the waiting, the stillness, the knowing that genji was out there, somewhere, while you were stuck in unfamiliar streets—that was unbearable. every second spent apart stretched unbearably long, twisting into something near-painful. you caught yourself checking your phone too often, rereading old messages as if they’d change, counting the hours until you could see him again.

and when that moment finally arrived, when you stepped foot back in your own city, it was like something inside you snapped back into place. all at once, the tension in your body loosened, that desperate, clawing feeling in your chest easing now that you were home. now that he was within reach.

you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion of the mission or simply your natural impulsiveness, but the second you spotted him on patrol, all rational thought fled your mind. you had spent forty-eight hours away, forty-eight hours too many, and in your world, the only remedy was him in your arms, right where he belonged.

but the heart did not listen to reason. it did not heed restraint. it only knew longing, only knew the pull of affection too strong to ignore.

it only knew the path your feet took, driven by instinct rather than thought, closing the distance between you and him before you could even register the movement. and before you even realised it, your body moved on autopilot, a familiar pull guiding your footsteps through the unfamiliar territory. it was like there was an invisible force magnetising you towards genji. you didn't quite know when you had started walking, but within minutes, you found yourself cutting a path towards him, driven by pure instinct and a need to be reunited.

the city hummed around you, neon lights flickering in a rhythm you had long since memorized, the familiar pulse of home guiding your steps. your heartbeat, once restless and erratic, now beat to a steadier tune—one that quickened only when your eyes landed on him.

genji stood with his back turned, posture stiff with the quiet vigilance that never left him, even in moments of stillness. his shoulders were squared, hands resting near his swords, his gaze scanning the streets as if daring trouble to arise.

but you could see it—the exhaustion he carried in the set of his shoulders, the subtle weight pressing down on him. he had always been good at hiding it, at keeping his guard up even when no one was looking, but you knew better. you saw the tension in his stance, the careful way he held himself like a blade constantly kept at the ready. two days, and already you had missed so much.

you barely noticed the civilians passing by, the faint murmurs of conversation, the way the world seemed to fade into something distant and unimportant. all that mattered was him. and all that would ever matter would be him.

your steps quickened, but your heart was already miles ahead, racing at the thought of finally closing the space between you. restraint had never been your strong suit, and now, after what felt like a lifetime apart, it had completely abandoned you. you had half a mind to shout his name, to announce your presence in a way that would have everyone on the street turning to stare—but no, this moment was yours, yours alone.

all sense of propriety dissolved like mist under the sun. there was no thought about what others might think, no concern about the attention you were drawing. there was only a single, desperate need to be closer to him.

you didn’t call out to genji. didn’t think. your body moved before your mind could catch up, closing the space between you both in a matter of seconds.the second your feet left the curb, everything else ceased to matter. the noise of the city blurred into static, the air around you buzzing with the sheer force of your own excitement. it was muscle memory at this point—locating his center of gravity, anticipating the way he’d react before he even had the chance.

before he could turn, before he could brace himself, your arms were already around him, lifting him clean off the ground in one smooth motion.

“genji!” you laughed, holding him flush against you as you spun around. “oh, my love.”

his name left your lips like a prayer, like a homecoming, like a desperate thing starved for warmth. you didn’t care that people turned to look, that the world around you continued to move while you stood still in the gravity of this moment.

he made a sound—half-startled, half-exasperated—as his feet left the ground. his hands shot out instinctively, gripping onto your shoulders as if that would somehow keep him tethered.

“you can’t just—” his breath hitched, cut off by the sheer force of your hold. his fingers tightened against you, a fleeting moment of hesitation before he remembered himself, remembered that protesting was futile.

for a moment, just a brief, fleeting second, you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his breath hitched as if he was fighting the instinct to react.

genji's protests were quickly silenced by your unyielding grip, your arms hugging him even closer, leaving barely any space between your bodies. genji tried to wiggle out of your grip, his muscles tensing in a futile attempt to regain control, but your hold was unyielding.

“put–,” he snapped, a hint of exasperation in his voice, his pride wounded by the display of raw strength and how effortless it was for you to have him suspended in the air. but even as he protested, there was a hint of affection in his words, a begrudging fondness mixed with annoyance. “put me down!”

your grip only tightened, arms locked around his waist, unwilling to loosen even an inch. you buried your face into his shoulder, inhaling deeply as if to ground yourself in the scent of him, the solid, familiar presence that you had missed so desperately.

you pressed a kiss to his forehead, and the moment your lips touched his forehand, genji's body seemed to go boneless, all tension and resistance evaporating in an instant. he was all but melting into your arms, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he allowed himself to relax against you. his head tilted slightly, baring his neck more for you to attack.

the sight of him, usually so controlled and composed, now completely at your mercy, was both endearing and enthralling. there were people crowding around you two, now, giggling and speaking amongst themselves, phones recording and flashing.

but you didnt care. oh, you couldnt care at all. not now. not when you were home.

#one punch man #one punch man x reader #opm #opm x reader #lightning genji #lightning genji x reader #genji #genji x reader

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1totallynotasimp · 9 months ago

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Brittney Nelson x FemReader

Requested by Sienna (on quotev)

(Your pov )

I was walking around with brittney "i swear if judah calls me sus one time this round i wil-" Brittney starts to talk but i didn't want to hear the end

"Ok jeez i get you dont like judah calm down "i say trying to calm her down

" *gasp huh😧* Brittney gasp

"Huh whats wro-- *gasp* 😧" i gasp to

Emergency meeting 🚨

"Where" everyone asks

"Someone ate all the sweets but left the wrappers on the table !!" Me and Brittney say at the same time i blush a bit

"Is anyone sus "shiloh asks

"REDS SUS " judah announced, a mischievous grin dancing across his face.

"So help me judah you say this every time "Brittney yells

And here we go again Brittney and judah start arguing "Brittney please relax calm down " i say calmly

"W-well judah stated it " brittney complains

"We dont have enough information so i say we skip "shiloh says

Everyone skips except judah and Brittney vote each other. Deep down, i cherished my friendship with Brittney even though i wish it was more than that ,"remember there are two imposters among us "shiloh announces.

I've had a crush on Brittney a while now but ive always been there to calm her down i know she probably onlylike sme as a friend but i learn to cope with that and -.

" so Y/N wanna be my partner " Brittney asks ,snapping me out of my thoughts

"Umm yeah of course "i reply back with a smile ,Brittney smiles back at me and we go do our task.

I was doing wires until the lights went out ."Lights are out " I hear micah shout from somewhere.

"Cmon let's go help fox the lights so we don't look sus "I tell brittney

"Yeah your right "Brittney replies and follows me when we get to electrical eveyone is trying to fix the lights

"Hey everone can you-"I try and ask them to let one person do the light but they just don't listen

Brittney did not look happy "HEY EVRYONE "brittney shouts "can yall let Y/N do the light since yous clearly can't do them "

"Brittney you know you didn't have to do th-"I started to say

But everyone else says"fair enough " and let's me do the lights anyway

"Umm thank you brittney" I say with a tint of blush on my face

Emergency meeting 🚨

"Where " everyone asks

"Josiah and mary are gone "eligah says

Everyone gasps

"So is anyone su-" shiloh didn't even get to finish when some yells

"REDS SUS I JUST KNOW IT SHE DID IT "judah says

"JUDAH I AM NO--" BRITTNEY begins

“We all know who’s sus—Red! Brittney’s been acting suspicious! I mean, look at that sus face!” he says paying no attention to Brittney pointing his finger dramatically at her

"Brittney,, Brittney look at me ok hes not worth it ok calm stay calm " i say Brittney seems slightly better but you can tell she mad shes kinda cute when shes mad.

“I’m not sus judah , and you’re about to make me explode" Brittney says calmly(ish) but it was good enough for me

"We haven't found any imposters has anyone have Real evidents on who it might be "shiloh asks

No one says anything "ok then we skip for now " i say

"Fine, but if I get thrown out you know who it is !” judah declared,

"Brittney no "i tell Brittney

She smiles softly one that made my heart flutter .

We go and continue doing our task and then we hear runing brittney pulls me behind a desk "shhh "Brittney whispers to me.

We look over and we see daniel and shiloh " *gasp* i should have know it was you "shiloh started to say

"Buuut yah didnt thats to bad "daniel says and throw shiloh out . 🫨 was me and Brittneys fases

We ran to the meeting button and we press it

EMERGENCY meeting 🚨

"Wh-" "Daniel threw out shiloh me and brittney saw with our own eyes " i say panting

"Good enough for me "eligah says and everyone else agrees

"Daniel was ...... An imposter "eligah said and everyone celebrated

And now there was just one imposter left yay but who could it be shiloh was usually the one solving these things "and my last task is data download "Brittney groans

And she starts death staring the tablet "you kmow it takes long if you wait for it right "I tell her "yes u know "she answers

"Well I have my last task over there so ill be right back " i tell her woth a smile i didnt want to keave Brittney what if something bad happened like she got thrown out or the the tablet explodes a shark eats her an- wait i just noticed those will never happen well she might get thrown out but the the others wont . I done my last task and was walking back to Brittney but she wasn't their hmm did she get thrown out or "BOO" Brittney yells at me

"Aaah" I scream and britney starts bursting into laughter.

"That wasn't funny THAT WASNT FUNNY "I tell embarrassed

And then after a few seconds I start laughing to I just couldn't resist

Emergency meeting 🚨

There was only me ,Brittney eligah and micah

"Everyone else is gone "micah yells

"We should vote out the imposter now to be safe "eligha says

They all started arguing

I had no clue who the imposter was I just don't think it's brittney unless it is and I'm just letting my feelings get ahead of me oh I don't know why is life so completing

"Well judah said reds sus and now judah gone I vote Brittney "micah says

"Well no one has seen micah this whole round "eligah complains and votes micha

"Well neither has anyone seen you eligah "Brittney says

everyone looks at me

"Ermm why are yous looking at me "I'm pretty confused because I wasn't paying attention

"You have to vote "brittney whispers to me and I remember oh so I had no clue and it was just a leap of faith "I vote ... micah"

"And micah was... and imposters let's go "eligah says and we all celebrate later on

I find myself gazing into Brittney’s fiery eyes, . “You know what,” i said softly, her voice barely above a whisper,

“you are more than just ‘Red’ to me. You’re my... favorite teammate.” i say blushing

Brittney’s breath hitched, a brief silence overtaking the chaos of the game. “Your favorite, huh?” she replied playfully, a smirk creeping back onto her lips,

"Umm Y/N i need to tell you something

.my heart raced, sensing the weight behind brittneys words. “What’s up?” she urged, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.“Uh… I… I like you, Y/N . Like, really like you,” brittney confessed, her cheeks the same colour as her red outfit —riv.Brittney’s expression softened, warmth enveloping her features. A slow, teasing smile creased her face, “You know I really like you too, Brittney. Like, more than just friends,” i whispered back, our eyes locking in a beautiful moment shared only between us .

With hearts racing in tandem and excitement swirling between us, we leaned in and shared our first kiss "I love you brittney "I say

"I love you to Y/N

The End

Word count :1,255

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pbandjesse · 5 months ago

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I felt a lot better today. I didn't have as many pains. I was really productive. It was a good day.

I struggled to fall asleep last night. And was up every two hours. I gave James a hug before they left for their very long day. And went back to sleep.

When I woke up I turned on the shower and made the bed and tried to wait for the water to get warm. But it would barley get lukewarm and just kind of sucked. I would still wash my hair and I got acclimated and was able to comfortably take a shower but we have to get a plumber out here soon. Because this sucks. And when we have a baby in here we can't wash her in cold water!!

I got dressed and had bread pudding for breakfast. And would jump into my projects.

I made two snake plushies. I wasn't sure where the wire I have is so they don't bend but they are a great proof of concept and they don't take long to make at all.

But the main thing I worked on was my quilt project. I figured that if I bank a bunch of days I will have lots of time to work on the boarder. And so I got 20-30 completed today! It was about two hours worth of sewing. I went through three full bobbins. And honestly I'm just really thrilled with how everything is coming together. Like the seams aren't exactly perfect but it's close and I'm really pleased.

I was just sitting and sewing and doing my thing. Watch a video and just having a good time feeling productive.

Once I was done with that though I was kind of beat. I had some of my leftover chipotle for lunch. And hung out with sweetp. I was upset with him this morning when he tripped me in the hallway but we made up.

I spent a good portion of the afternoon reading. Which was really nice. With TikTok presumably going away on Monday, it is good to find other things to occupy my time. And I should be reading more. It's good for the brain.

I decided spend 5 I would go get dinner. I didn't really want to leave the house, it was really cold out there, but I thought an hour out would be good.

My original plan was pizza. But I got there and changed my mind. Instead I kept driving and went to Wawa.

I got a sandwich and ate in the parking lot while the sun went down. And soon was back on my way home. Enjoying some music and having a nice evening.

When I got back here I made sure everyone was fed. And Ive just been hanging out waiting for James to get home. They actually just texted me they are leaving soon! Yay!

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. I have two appoints in the morning, plus blood work. Then the door is supposed to be installed in the afternoon. I hope to work on my quilt boarder. I hope that the appointments go smoothly. James took the morning off so they can come with me. I appreciate that they are always there with me. I love them so much.

I hope you all have a good night tonight. Sleep well. Until tomorrow!!

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the-starfall · 1 year ago

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Hi, so ive been working on a writing project for awhile now and the first chapter is soon to be ready to release (Yay) sooo id thought id post a few design things and explain world building a bit. In this post I will be detailing 1. The main setting and 2. The main race interacted with during the first chapter

Ill be honest i dont have a name for this project yet and have just been calling it “my sci fi” project in everything ive laid out so far. But everything else has names! So here is the map of the mensis star system, most importantly of its ring station/world thing that surrounds and orbits the star mensis. This giant space station was once habited by a race of prestigious fleshed based organisms called the yeltilore. (most commonly they are called either “bringers of light, soon to arrive once more” by the theocratic council of the lenier. Or by more common names, such as “precursors” “the old rotten fleshy bits we find in district 5 floating through space” or my personal favorites “those dudes who died”) they as the common names suggest *died* or “disappeared to the star to recharge their power” a long long long time ago, leaving their robot and android slaves (and their experiments) behind within the 15 districts of the metliru ring station, all of them changed, district five got hit by a small exoplanet that got trapped it metliru’s orbit, and is no longer safe for any intelligent being. And over time all of the robots made their own civilization, colony’s, and just generally gained free will, now only somewhat bound by the harsh rules of their precursors and the much harsher rules of their own governments.

Notable species include:

Lenier, once robotic servants now wirey messes that form bodies and develop complex thought, who will be detailed later

Felar (who show up later)

The horrors (who show up later)

The flesh born (who show up later)

And the rogues, bestial androids once kept as pets that now roam any and all unclaimed territory, feasting on metal and despite a lack of intelligence theyve developed a fierce pack like instinct

Now, more on lenierians

These dudes are fun, having been small robot slaves during the reign of the past, they ripped apart other such robots (and a lot of infrastructure) during their early days, adding their stolen wiring to themselves in order to look more akin to the precursors who came first. They developed a religious fervor to the guys who died, building their entire religion based government off of the idea that 1. The star mensis is the only star in existence (all windows they have aboard the ring face the star) and that the precursors simply went into the star in order to achieve godhood, and eventually they’ll come back and reward they’re devote with the same godhood. Sadly however, since the destruction of district 5 they where disconnected to any space ports unless they went all the way around, stopping any potential suicides into the star.

They live wherever is safe and function decently well as a society, decorating themselves with scavenged metals by melding them into their metal bits and just kinda existing, they have jobs, their trying to fix up their homes to not be derelict and they’re learning, like doing science and shit. Point is. Youll see a lot of these dudes especially since (at least) one of the main characters is in fact a lerian!

If you want more functional info on their design decypher my bad cursive, now have a good night

(Also, i know the science in this is flimsy at best, its much more fantasy than anything else, as a robotics nerd im sure all of my friends would be mad at my for these designs and as a science geek…i mean same, the idea of a giant ring around a sun as a world is slightly more absurd than a dyson sphere and i know that, most of the inspiration was one of my friends talking about the game stellaris and building rings around planets/stars and the idea of everything else flowed from that, ill be making more of this before the release of the actual first chapter. Which will be on AO3. Now goodnight! (P.s. please ask any world-building questions id love to answer them!)

#scifi #my art #artwork #traditional drawing #original species #writing #robot art #sub par drawing

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doyouremem8erme · 7 months ago

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ok i was in class when u answered this but YAY MARCYHARM

combining those two concepts i am obsessssssed with the idea of marcy being in the mental void for so long that it just. breaks her mind. very very good angst there.

similar concept is an au i had like. pre-s3 where there was no night or core but marcy was in the pickle jar for like ... years. it was actually inspired by the end of the scythe books? i dont remember exactly how those went but it had a similar vibe with a much more extreme timespan where one character has been in a sorta stasis state for soooo long while the others have had to go on alone for all that time. i actually managed to dig up some drawings i did for it wayyyy back then bc i had sent them in a discord server

oh my godddd this art is so old and ugly.

but in the first bit you have anne carrying marcy out of the castle and shes waking up. theyre all "anne?" "marcy!" and then marcy is trying to remember what happened before the tank and shes like "what...was happening? i feel like we were doing something...something urgent... we were running, we were running...when was that?"

and anne just. remembers everything thats happened in the last years (im thinking like 3-6 just so i could keep them teenagers even if i wouldve wanted it to be longer in theory) but instead of saying that shes just . so happy marcy is back and none of that time matters. and she says "only a moment. only a moment."

theres just something so painful about them being apart for so long whether physically or mentally or both.

also ive always loved darcy mistreating its hosts body. in darcycoreverse there was a detail that would sometimes come up where. darcy would wire its pain receptors to connect to marcys part of the brain...both keeping it from being distracted by whatever pain its in while also keeping marcys mind in pain to keep her in check. and both dcv and other aus ive often had the core use methods of torture that are veryyy reminiscent of s/h just because...it makes sense. its in her body and its a convenient way to hurt her andddd it doubles as giving her some pretty messed up ideas and coping mechanisms down the line.

any sorta marcy-recovering-from-the-core stuff is always soooo good...

stumbles into ur inbox do YOU have any lovely ideas for marcyharm during her time as a prisoner in the castle

Nnnhnhnh i thought about this all morning because I already talked about Marcy being kept for years and years and years AND about memory loss which I think are my main ones but... one I haven't talked about nearly as much is Marcy being kept in the void for so long it seriously messes with her brain. Keeping her floating in eternal darkness, cutting off her sense of sight, hearing, touch etc making her feel, effectively, like a brain in a jar. If we stick closer to canon, she could have easily been kept there for months. At first she only feels fear but like... "normal" fear you know? Then she kinda starts to relax because it doesn't feel like anything. She doesn't even feel tired. Then the desperation starts, anxiety spiking up at random intervals, she starts getting hallucinations, mostly voices of her loved ones saying incomprehensible nonsense, but also random lights and colors and faces. The extreme anxiety comes and goes, she sways between feeling extremely afraid and feeling catatonic. At first she tries to think to keep herself somewhat entertained because the moments between the episodes of panic are filled with extreme boredom, so after she gets exhausted of mentally punishing herself for everything that's ever happened to anyone, she reluctantly tries to "play" videogames in her head, or "listen" to music, or "watch" movies. It somehow only makes her feel more distressed, because it highlights the lack of sensory imput, so she kinda... stops... after a while. First she stops thinking in words, then slowly images and sounds go away too. Darcy taking up most of her brain may accelerate the process. Maybe this was their intention all along, by putting her there: to "release space", so to speak.

When her friends release her, assuming we're messing with the timeline and they go back to Wartwood so she can recover instead of immediately going to fight the moon, it's... very rough. She does recognize them but she can barely remember their names. She can barely remember her own name. She recognizes it when they call her by it, but if you asked her what it was, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. She can barely speak at all. She's extremely weak because Darcy didn't take good care of her body - almost didn't sleep or eat, relied mostly on the armor to keep her body moving - so they need to carry her to Joe Sparrow and then pretty much do everything for her. She slept for like, 3 days, and when she woke up she could only lie there and do nothing all day. When before she could barely go five seconds without stimuli or she'd be bored to death, now her main activities involve staring at the wall for hours on end without thinking. She's also extremely touch starved and touch averse, silently longing to be held even though every single touch feels like Too Much and easily overwhelms her. That's the most reactive they see her, when she jerks away from a hand brushing her hair, or stroking her cheek. Giving her a bath was probably a traumatic experience for everyone involved.

Everything feels like Too Much. The lights, the background noise, even her own hunger drives her crazy. They give her a tea that makes her sleep to spare her the anguish. The only moments in which she feels any peace are the rare times in which she has pleasant dreams and not nightmares.

She remembers how to speak in a matter of weeks, around the same time starts walking and bathing and eating on her own, but it will take her much, much longer to start feeling normal again.

Also on that bit about Darcy not taking care of her body -> I feel like the Core is an extremely irrational entity, so it has no qualms hurting its host despite how stupid that is. It shuts off any negative stimuli the body experiences, and it's not like Marcy is there to feel it either, so it doesn't sleep until the body starts seriously failing to function, and unless it's eating for pleasure (which it rarely does as to not waste time), it feeds the body through tubes that only serve to supply nutrition but do nothing for its hunger.

Marcy is the one to suffer the long term effects of all the abuse her body suffered, of course. Anxiety and depression are just the tip of the iceberg, alongside PTSD. She probably suffers from some memory loss, panic attacks, psychosis, possibly hormone problems (weird headcanon but I just know this girl didn't get her period until like, age 17, specifically because all the physical trauma she suffered)... she feels tired all the time and goes from falling asleep on random places to staying awake for days on end. Lots of night terrors too, possibly combined with sleepwalking. I can imagine Anne and Sasha deciding to delay their return to Earth until Marcy is doing better because they just know Earth doctors won't know how to handle this, let alone her parents, especially if they still plan to take her away.

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officialbillhader · 2 years ago

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Being an adult and having to actually do stuff that my parents used to do can lead to a strange series of events. Like my goal was to cut my cat's nails bc they were getting long. But ive got him on his back already so i might as well check him for fleas bc we've been fighting fleas for months in my apartment. And i see a few fleas so now after i cut his nails i have to force a pill down his throat so the feas will be killed. Except cutting his nails and being forced to swallow a pill irritates him so afterwards i make sure to love on and play with him to try and teach him to associate negative things with good experiences. And im playing with him and woah! Hes trying to eat a teeny tiny screw! So i take the screw away from him and im like, i think this goes to my laptop. And sure enough it does! Im not sure how long that screws been sitting on my carpet but im just happy to have found it before i vacuum this weekend. Except im not quite sure where i put my teeny tiny screwdriver (the one i took from my organization's large amazon order bc we ordered like 12 cases of lights and each one came with a teeny tiny screwdriver and i thought that having one could be pretty useful one day) so i start checking the drawer that im /pretty/ sure, but not positive, its in. But the drawer is a junk drawer and theres too much junk for me to find the screwdriver so i think maybe i put it in my toolkit. It isnt in my toolkit. So i check my bike toolkit. Maybe its in there. It was not. So i decide its either in the junk drawer or it got lost. I start to take everything out of the junk drawer. I find some dollar store lights that im not using anymore but still have the batteries in them. I realize the batteries need to be taken out so i dont risk them corroding in the battery pack. But i also wonder why i didnt take them out when i put them in the drawer and lo and behold its bc it needs a teeny tiny screwdriver to open the pack! I keep taking stuff out of the drawer. I find that theyre a lot of wires in the drawer, even tho i have a different drawer meant for various wires. I finally find the screwdriver! Yay! I take the batteries out of the pack, set them aside (with the other random battery i found in the drawer), then go put the screw back in my laptop. And tighten all the others while im at it. I then put the teeny tiny screwdriver in my toolkit because it is a tool afterall. Its safer in there (i hope). Then i put the wires in the wire drawer and the rest of the junk back in the junk drawer. But now i also have 3 batteries to take care so i grab my battery daddy (a late christmas present that started as a joke until it was in my hands 3 days after christmas bc my mom found it for sale in kroger) and test the batteries. One is low, one is good, and one is dead. Two good ones go in the daddy. And now i can feel satisfied right? Except suddenly its 1 am and my cat still wants to play

#awesomepie3221 #whenever i haven't written in a while i start writing dumb long posts like this one on tumblr #i almost wrote todsy but instead finished an assignment

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

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For His Brothers (complete)

This one has been bugging me for a while. So I finally went back and completed it.

This was started in December last year, so most of it has been posted here before, but I’ve decided to post it in its entirety since I haven’t written any of it since February.

But now it is finished. Yay!

Thanks as always to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for their amazing support throughout. You guys are just sooo kind to me ::hugs you to bits::

I hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: angst, frustrated Gordon, angry John and a pair of idiot older brothers. 5861 words.

-o-o-o-

He reached over and gently brushed away a stray hair from his brother’s forehead.

The room was quiet. Considering the monetary clout the Tracy family sported, it was to be expected. Hidden away from the bustling hospital, this oasis of a room with its pale furnishings, white privacy curtains, the cushioned chairs in place of the usual plastic was a haven.

These comforts were to be valued and Virgil appreciated them even if his brother would have frowned at the extravagance.

But that was Scott.

Always thinking of everything and everyone but himself.

Virgil let his fingers glide through that soft brown hair, the severity of their situation clear by the lack of gel stiffening the strands.

Scott never left the house without every hair perfectly placed, fingernails manicured, skin clean and refreshed. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think this was a man willing to get his hands dirty. But then Scott was never what he seemed.

The hair gel, the spotless clothing, his deportment, it all spoke of a wealthy man who owned sixty sports cars, three yachts and a private plane.

Scott had the plane, sure, the fastest one on the planet. And hell, yeah, he had a fast car and even a motorcycle. He didn’t sport a boat, but then Gordon was the one to stash those and it wasn’t like he wasn’t willing to share…well, most things.

But Scott never had time to just drive his car. The bike was on the Island gathering dust in a corner of One’s hangar. Virgil was pretty sure Scott hadn’t been on a boat that didn’t involve some kind of life-threatening situation in about ten years.

No, Scott was not your average billionaire.

A sigh and Virgil let himself wilt in the chair beside the bed.

Please, Scott.

His brother was pale, his skin almost bloodless. If it wasn’t for that, he could have been asleep. Scott was neat even in slumber. He wasn’t one to sprawl. There was a certain quiet efficiency to everything he did.

Virgil had brought in his brother’s pyjamas. Even helped the nurse dress him. It wasn’t the first time, after all. If Scott had been awake at the time, the protests would have been epic. The man did not like needing help. Did not like showing vulnerability. Did not want any of it.

Virgil had fought him on this far too many times before using soft words and, if necessary, a pile of hard logic to get him to behave. Because there was one weapon Virgil always had up his sleeve. Catching Scott’s eyes, all Virgil had to say was that he needed to do this. Virgil needed to care for his brother. Look after him and see him well.

It cracked Scott’s obstinance every time, because Scott would do anything for his brothers.

Including sacrificing himself.

Virgil let his head drop to his hand and rubbed his face. There was an edge to his thoughts. A hysteria lurking in the corners, lured out by certain possibilities, accompanied by terror.

He couldn’t.

No.

Another sigh and he looked up again, forcing his eyes to land on his brother. The total inability to do anything grated on Virgil’s senses. His everything was to fix things.

He couldn’t fix this.

He reached down and caught his brother’s hand. It was cool, but not cold. The IV sticking out the back of the vein just beneath his skin shifted as Virgil moved and he clutched the tubing gently to his brother’s wrist to prevent stress on the site.

Scott’s fingers were long.

Longer than Virgil’s. Long enough to play the piano better than Virgil had ever been capable. It was Scott’s thing...to be better. Following him in everything due to age had its challenges. Scott was good at what he wanted to be good at.

The fact he had dropped the piano at an early age was just as frustrating as John not singing with his magical voice. Virgil felt like the last bastion of artistic pursuits in the family.

Virgil ran a finger over his brother’s limp digits. No longer playing the piano beyond what long term memory could provide, these fingers were tasked with so much more. The strength behind them controlled Thunderbird One, their dexterity manipulated equipment, their determination reached out to save so many souls.

His brother’s hand blurred and Virgil had to blink hard.

Virgil would follow his big brother anywhere, and to be honest, he had followed him into hell on many an occasion. He had no regrets. Sometimes he considered that perhaps he had been brought into this world to do exactly that. To follow the born leader his brother was. To enable the strategies he envisioned and, in turn, support him in their mutual endeavours.

And to keep him safe.

Virgil wrapped both his hands around Scott’s fingers and dropped his forehead to their cool touch.

God, please.

“Hey, Virg?” The voice was unmistakably Gordon’s, but it lacked vivacity. “Grandma wants you.” The aquanaut took a step into the room. “I can sit with Scott.”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“Virg, please?”

He closed his eyes and held on just a little tighter to his brother’s hand.

The same hand he had failed to catch.

“V-“

“No.” His voice croaked the word, but the emotion came from so deep inside it hurt to cross his lips.

A soft touch to his shoulder and he heard his little brother crouch down beside him.

Virgil expected Gordon to keep trying to persuade him, but instead a soft head of hair leant into his shoulder and an arm reached around his back, pulling him off centre and holding him there.

No words, just Gordon’s soft breathing, slow and strong. Swimmer’s lungs. Olympian. Rescuer.

Thunderbird.

Virgil squeezed his eyes tight and kept his insides in where they belonged.

Gordon began gently stroking Virgil’s arm with the tips of his fingers.

They sat there like that for Virgil didn’t know how long. He kept his eyes closed, his forehead down and his big brother’s hand clutched in his.

“You know he is going to wake up, don’t you?” It was flippant and out of the blue. It shattered Virgil’s carefully tended calm and his head shot up, inadvertently pushing Gordon away.

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do.”

Virgil opened his mouth, but his throat closed up. Only one strangled word made it out and it was little more than a plaintive wail. “How?”

“Because he’s Scott.” The surety in Gordon’s voice tore at the remains of Virgil’s heart. “Scott Tracy. Commander of International Rescue.” Gordon’s lips thinned as his eyes reflected the fluorescent lighting. “Thunderbird One.”

Virgil stared at his little brother a moment. The intensity in those brown eyes screamed belief and determination.

Not unlike Scott, really.

It almost broke Virgil in half.

He looked away, back to his big brother laid out on the white bed, almost funereal in appearance. Virgil’s throat clogged up, fear, distress and grief warring for dominance.

His eyes fixated on Scott’s eyelashes once again and mentally begged them to open, pleaded to see that wise and inspirational blue. For his brother to return to him.

Please don’t leave.

God, please, I can’t do this without you.

“He’s going to be fine, Virgil.” Gordon’s voice again intruded on his stability, shaking the fragile framework his composure was sitting on.

“He trusted me.” The words fell from his lips, his voice wet, his eyes still fixated on his silent brother.

“He always trusts you. We all do.” Gordon’s voice was very much his rescue voice. Soft, reassuring and ever so kind.

Virgil didn’t deserve it.

The powerlines had come out of nowhere. He should have predicted that at least, but instead he had John yelling in his ears and Scott swooping in low with his jetpack, grabbing him by his exo-suit and literally shoving him out of the way. Virgil had spun on one tortured ankle, but the electrical wires had missed him.

They hadn’t missed Scott.

They slapped across his jet pack and vivid white and orange sparks blinded Virgil as he tried to reach for his brother. After-images haunted his sight as Scott’s jet pack died. Virgil reached for his brother, claws extended, but he was clumsy, poorly balanced, and he missed.

Scott fell limp into the dark water below.

And Virgil couldn’t follow.

Then it was all a mad dance to get out the reach of the still flailing powerlines, accompanied by the roar of his own ‘bird swooping into a low hover and his aquanaut brother taking a swan dive off her front hatch into that same dark water.

Virgil hurried to get off the bridge, but found he couldn’t.

He had been on the outside of the structure, rappelling down to secure a car that had almost fallen off the bridge due to the 6.5 quake an hour ago. The bridge was almost empty bar the last of the support personnel who had helped International Rescue evacuate the injured. Virgil had clambered out there simply to clip a restraint onto the car’s chassis to prevent it from falling off the bridge and possibly causing more injury. It should have been a simple job, mere seconds before they moved onto the next site.

The pylon had fallen without warning.

And the powerlines, which weren’t supposed to be there, came with it.

Scott had saved Virgil’s life.

At the cost of his own.

And now Virgil couldn’t even get off the damned bridge due to that same pylon, a tangle in his rappel line, and the very strong possibility he had a broken ankle.

He had to stand there and watch Gordon drag their brother onto the shore and start CPR in the mud.

The aquanaut was joined by Alan and a hovering One almost immediately. Scott was scooped off the planet and the rocket plane tore off into the distance.

He was stuck on that bridge for a good twenty minutes. Unable to reach his ‘bird still hovering until John landed her in a street nearby. Unable to climb off the bridge. He was little more than just another rescuee in need of his brothers.

Full of terror.

John reported on Scott’s status as much as he could and fretted in his own calm way over Virgil. His voice was, as ever, a balm, but the lack of a definitive answer on whether his eldest brother was going to survive kept Virgil’s heart rate in the red.

But then there was the familiar roar of that same brother’s ‘bird and One shot into an abrupt hover, Alan rappelling down and finally scooping Virgil off the side of the bridge.

Scott was still unconscious when Virgil finally made it to the hospital, and his brother had stayed that way ever since.

Three days.

Three long pain-filled days.

Virgil’s ankle had been splinted and he was mobile. Turned out the left strut of his exo-suit had actually snapped. How Scott had managed to shove him with that much force, Virgil had no idea. But it had achieved what his brother had wanted to do. He had saved Virgil, even if he hadn’t managed to save himself.

So quiet. So still.

Gordon shifted beside him, a small sigh passing his lips.

“Thank you, Gordon.” Virgil’s throat clogged again. “For saving him.”

“You don’t need to thank me. We’d all do the same for any of us.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. I should have known those wires were there. I should have moved faster.”

“What are you? Prophetic? John had the plans for that bridge, you had the plans for that bridge. There was no mention of hidden cables in that span. You know it, I know it. There wasn’t a damn thing you could have done. Some stupid idiot didn’t file the proper papers with the proper authorities.”

“I should have scanned the structure more thoroughly.”

“Virgil, it was a bridge, not a damned building. You and Scott located all the injured. You did good.” An exasperated sigh. “This was not your fault.” Gordon straightened. “And if you don’t leave this room and eat something, Grandma is going to have both our hides.”

Virgil didn’t even bother to look at him. “No. I’m staying here.” He had to, because Scott had to wake up.

He had to.

“I have to say, bro, I had to talk very fast to keep Grandma away. Forty-eight hours is ridiculous. You need food and rest.”

“I ate.” The discarded remains of breakfast sat on the sideboard. It had been cardboard and chaff in his mouth. The water had been welcome to wash it down.

And he’d kept it down...mostly.

Gordon glared at him. “More than three mouthfuls. Listen, if you don’t move yourself, John and I are going to move you for your own good.”

Virgil looked up at Gordon in shock. “No.” He had to be here.

“You’re forcing our hand, Virg! I will knock you out myself, if I have to, and I know...I know...Scott would agree.”

“Yes, he does.” It was parched and more breath than voice, but it was Scott.

Virgil spun in his chair as the fingers still wrapped in his hands curled around his. Dopey blue eyes pinned him from the bed. “What the h-hell are you doing, Virgil?”

“Scott!” Something inside broke. A dam, a wall of emotion slammed into him at the sight of that crease between Scott’s eyebrows, the twitch of his lips.

It took everything he had to hold it all in.

“Hey, big bro, you’re with us! How are you feeling?” Gordon was on his feet and practically bouncing. A blink and his little brother had thumbed his comms and was letting their family know.

The figure under the bed clothes shifted and groaned. “Stiff and sore. What the hell happened?”

“You got zapped like a bug, went for a swim, and made Alan fly you to these luxurious accommodations.” Gordon’s arm waved around at the white room.

Scott stared at Gordon a moment before blearily turning to Virgil, his expression pleading an explanation.

Virgil pushed it past the lump in his throat, voice parched. “You were hit by live powerlines and knocked from the sky. Fortunately, you were over water and fairly low. Gordon fished you out and saved your life.”

A blink as those blue eyes absorbed that. “What about you?” And there was memory in those eyes, worry for a younger brother, the drive that pushed Scott to give his everything.

For his brothers.

“I’m good.” Now.

“Bullshit, Virg.” Gordon’s expression was beyond exasperated. “You need rest.”

Lips thinned. “I know what I need, Gordon.”

The hand that was still in his tightened and Virgil was forced to look at Scott. Nothing was said, but everything was communicated.

For his brothers.

Scott would not rest if Virgil did not.

He swallowed his beating heart and with a gentle squeeze of his brother’s hand, Virgil stood up and straightened his shoulders. “I sh-should let the others know you’re awake.”

Virgil was vaguely aware of Scott frowning up at him as he reached for his crutches, but a sudden light-headedness distracted him. Perhaps he should eat something.

“Virg?” Scott’s voice was weak.

“What?” Virgil turned and the world turned with him.

A clatter of plastic chair and Gordon was suddenly in his face. “Hey, there, Virg. Take it slow.” His little brother was frowning as much as Scott, his hand gripping Virgil’s biceps holding him steady.

Virgil got his crutches under his arms. “I’m...good.”

Scott was struggling to sit up.

Gordon let go of Virgil with one hand and grabbed his eldest brother by the shoulder. “Hey, you stay put.”

“Virgil-“

“Virgil is fine, Scott. He is going to go to his rooms to eat and sleep for a good twelve hours even if I have to tie him to his bed.” A thumb to his collar. “John, I need you in here.”

Within seconds, the door opened and their red-haired brother strode in. The moment those turquoise eyes landed on Virgil, his brow creased into a frown, but it flickered as he turned to Scott, relief taking over.

Gordon didn’t give him a chance to say anything

“Johnny, a clear case of Operation Big Bro Tango. You want Scott? I’ll dance with Virg.”

A smirk curved John’s lips. “FAB.”

“What the hell?” That came from Scott.

Virgil had closed his eyes at some point. The world was still going around. The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor and an arm wrapped around his waist. “C’mon, Virg, let’s get you something to eat.”

He didn’t want to eat. He was nauseous and his head hurt and his heart was tied up in a mass of emotion that he could barely keep under control.

“Scott-“

“Scott will be fine. John has him, and I have you.”

“I’m...” But he wasn’t fine and he had to get out of this room before Scott realised it. Before... “I’m good.” That last word scraped over his larynx and left a bloody trail. He forced his eyes open to find a worried Scott staring up at him. John’s hand was on his eldest brother’s shoulder and he was speaking quietly to the man, obviously trying his best to keep Scott where he was. Virgil forced some steel into his spine. “I’m good, Scott. I’m going to get something to eat. Gran...Grandma will probably be here in a moment.” His hand tightened on his crutches and he carefully edged around the chair that had been his constant companion for the last few days.

Gordon hovered.

“Look after yourself, Virgil.” Scott’s voice was desperate.

Virgil didn’t look back. “I’m good. You worry about you.” A haggard breath. “Listen to John.”

He got a grunt for that as Gordon held open the door, urging him through.

A last glance at his big brother, now sitting up in bed, John’s hand still on his shoulder. Virgil turned his back to him and crutched his way through the door.

He made it all of five steps down the corridor before Gordon had to catch him as he fell.

-o-o-o-

“You idiot.”

It was breathless and close. It came from beyond the fog and outside the numb space he was inhabiting. It spoke of a place where pain existed.

Because there was pain in that voice.

“Why did you do this? Why?!”

The voice was familiar and it sparked hurt in his heart.

“Do you honestly think I would risk everything for your life just so you can go and flush it all down the toilet in some self-sacrificing vigil? Virg, why?”

Somewhere there was a thump as something fell beside him. It vibrated slowly through his body. He had a body. He had a hand. Because it was grabbed and held tightly, crushed up against soft skin backed by muscle and bone.

Breath tantalised the hairs on his wrist.

Whispered. “Virg, it wasn’t your fault. John hunted down the person responsible.” A soft snort. “You should have seen him. Our brother can be truly terrifying when he wants to be.” Another sigh across his wrist. A brush of fingers. “I can’t…”

Scott swallowed. Because it was Scott and there was something very significant about that.

“You can’t do this. I can’t…” The voice petered off again.

The hand holding his tightened a little more.

“You’re my brother.” The words came laden with so much emotion Virgil’s heart stuttered and he struggled to focus, to reach out.

His fingers wrapped around those holding them.

“Virgil?” There was sudden hope.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

The new, sharp voice startled Virgil and he flung his eyes open. Blinded by ceiling tiles he groaned and shut them again. Hospital. He was in a damned hospital.

“Virgil?!” A clatter of footsteps hurrying close. Gordon. The new voice was Gordon.

Typical.

“What?” The single word made it past his dry throat.

Another hand landed on his opposite shoulder and he attempted to open his eyes again and found his fish brother smiling down at him. “’Bout time you woke up. Was beginning to wonder if you were trying to compete with electro boy over there.” Gordon waved a hand across the bed to the opposite side.

Virgil turned his head and found a wan Scott Tracy sitting beside his bed, holding his hand. His big brother was a picture of exhaustion.

Several neurons fired in the right sequence and facts aligned themselves into order. “Scott!” Virgil pushed himself up.

“Whoa, Virg! Take it slow.” Strong aquanaut hands caught him as his body protested the sudden change in orientation. “And you, keep your butt plastered to that chair or I’m calling Johnny back in here to kick it. Hell, I might do that anyway. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

Scott grunted as Gordon shoved pillows behind Virgil’s back and fiddled with the automatic bed controls until Virgil was supported enough to relax.

Scott did not let go of Virgil’s hand.

Virgil didn’t let go of Scott with his eyes. “Are you okay?” His voice was dry and cracked.

“I’m fine, Virgil.” His brother straightened as if to prove the point as Gordon spluttered a scoff. Blue eyes targeted the aquanaut. “I’m fine.” Firm and decisive.

“My god, both of you are idiots.” It was pure frustration this time. “Scott, go back to bed before you collapse just like your idiot brother. If you fold, then he’ll rot beside your bed until he collapses again and the rest of us will be stuck with two sick idiots.” He glared at both of them. “Well, sicker than you already are.” Angry brown eyes flicked to Virgil. “Grandma is going to roast you, Virg. You are so dead. Since when do you not take her medical advice?”

“What?” And now there was a pair of angry blue eyes glaring at him, too. “You ignored Grandma? Are you insane?”

Gordon’s eyebeams zapped his eldest brother where he sat. “You can’t talk, Scott. You’re out of bed. Grandma told you to stay there. One flick to comms and you are toast.”

“Gordon-“

“No. Screw this. You guys might be worried about each other, but we care about you too. I’ve had to pick both of you off the floor just recently and it was not fun! Think about that!” Gordon was yelling. “Do as you are damn well told and get better!”

“Gords?” And Virg was moving, throwing off his covers.

“Didn’t you hear a word I just said?!”

Virgil froze. The anger emanating off his brother was fiery and so out of character, Virgil’s heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon?” And Scott rose unsteadily to his feet.

Those angry eyes whipped around and targeted Scott. “For God’s sake, sit down!”

The door behind Gordon was suddenly shoved open and John barrelled through. Aquamarine eyes caught the scene and Gordon was grabbed from behind before he could launch himself at his brothers.

“Gordon.” John wasn’t stronger than his fish brother, but his presence was enough and Gordon wilted in his arms.

“John, your turn to tango. I’ve had it.” He slipped from his brother’s grip and stormed out.

Virgil remembered to draw a breath, but then his eyes were caught by an aquamarine glare and he knew he was dead.

“Scott, get into bed.” It was said quietly, but with intent. Virgil was not surprised when his eldest brother did exactly as he was told without protest.

He did worry at how pale Scott was and had to fight the urge to climb out of bed and help him, broken ankle or not.

John pinned Virgil with his eyes.

Virgil pulled the covers back over himself and said nothing.

His space brother made sure Scott was comfortable, but didn’t say anything further until the pilot relaxed back onto his pillows. John then moved to the ends of their beds and turned to face both of them.

“I expect better.” He held their eyes a moment longer. “I need to see to Gordon.” Their little brother turned away, his back dismissing them. He flicked an eye to the ceiling. “Eos, monitor please. Alert Grandma as needed.”

“Yes, John.” Virgil startled at the sharp but not unexpected response.

John didn’t spare them anything else before he left.

Virgil’s heart sank through the floor.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was absent for most of the rest of Virgil’s stay in the hospital. Fortunately, that stay wasn’t very long, just one more night and Virgil suspected Grandma had had a word to the doctors to achieve that.

He slept most of it, comforted by the sound of Scott’s breathing. His brother had to stay in a little longer considering his three days of non-responsiveness, but Grandma intervened and sent Virgil home to the Island.

It felt like banishment.

But he also felt like he deserved it for worrying his family so much.

At the time it had seemed the only logical course. He had to stay with Scott.

Just had to.

Stepping out of the situation clarified it for him somewhat and gave him his family’s perspective, ever so clearly.

He vanished into his studio for two days.

Gordon had come home with him, obviously still playing the big brother tango thing that he and John obviously used as some kind of strategy to herd Scott and himself. It was somewhat ridiculous, but he could now see why.

There was more guilt, on top of guilt.

The paint was angry.

On the third day there was a knock on his studio door. “Virgil?”

John.

Virgil closed his eyes and sighed. Scott was returning today and the paint splattered all over the canvas he had been prodding since six in the morning was going nowhere.

There was a lot of blue.

So much blue.

“Virgil?”

He put down his paintbrush and realised there was also a lot of blue on him. He brushed at his shirt, but half of it was dry and the other half just smeared and made it worse.

All blue.

“Virg?”

“Come in.” It was resigned.

The door unlatched and John peered into the room, eyes exploring in that critical way his little brother absorbed everything until they latched onto Virgil. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Virgil grabbed a rag and scrubbed off the wet paint on his hands. His skin crackled where some had dried.

Those eyes fixated on him, drifting down to the ankle and the crutches on the floor.

John sighed. “Virgil...”

The engineer connected the dots and pressed his lips together. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.” To emphasise the point, he dragged over the stool he had been using for most of the morning and planted his butt on it. “See.”

John’s eyes lowered a little, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he shut the door behind him and made his way over to Virgil. Grabbing another stool, he sat down next to him in front of the painting from a blue sculpted hell.

John’s aquamarine eyes both blended and clashed with the colour scheme. “I sense a theme.” It was said lightly, almost an invitation to truce.

“It sucks.” The blue was smeared in streaks over more streaks. It spoke of canted speed and pain. Paint cracked again as Virgil tightened a fist.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Ever so quiet and calm.

And days worth of frustration and guilt surfaced. “I have the equipment, John. I should have scanned. One little scan and so much hurt could have been avoided.”

“Fine. We will add infrastructure scans to our standard procedure. Name the type and we will do it.”

The simple statement brought Virgil up short.

John raised an eyebrow. “You expected something else?” His expression softened. “No one is blaming you, Virgil. No one but yourself.”

“Scott almost died.”

“But he didn’t.”

“John...” He let his head drop. “I can’t...”

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Virgil, you don’t have to. Scott will be fine.”

Virgil swallowed and turned back to his painting. An absent smear of blue with a thumb. He frowned and pushed himself to his feet. A finger here, another smear there. He grabbed his palette and added some red, still finger painting. White and a touch of Payne’s grey, more blue and more white and for a moment he lost himself in the process.

“It’s Thunderbird One.” It was said quietly, but with awe. “How did you do that?”

Virgil didn’t answer, grabbing a brush and, using the point at the end of the handle, scratched in the casual detail of his big brother’s ‘bird.

Lines he knew ever so well.

A fingernail of red and blue and Scott appeared aboard the facsimile of the rocket plane.

Virgil shuffled backwards on one foot. “I can’t fly her.”

He heard the frown rather than saw it. “Yes, you can.”

“No. No, I’m not Scott. Never Scott.” He turned to face his little brother as the emotions poured onto his face, raw and desperate. “I can’t lose him, John. I can’t.”

Aquamarine eyes widened. “Virgil?”

Realising exactly what he was saying, Virgil turned away and put the paintbrush down and swallowed his fear. “You’re right. I’ll write new procedures. It won’t happen again.” He grabbed a rag and concentrated on scrubbing the paint off his fingers.

But John was having none of it, he grabbed Virgil by the shoulders. “Now you listen to me. You have four brothers. Four, Virgil. If the worst happens. We will work it out.” Those hands tightened. “We. Will. Work. It. Out.” John pulled him into his arms and he was being hugged ever so tight.

John’s shirt was smooth against his cheek.

Virgil closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” It made it past his tight throat.

John didn’t respond other than to hold him even tighter.

-o-o-o-

John had him clean up and have a shower. Virgil was tired and arguing required more energy than he had. Thunderbird Five was doing his big bro tango with skill.

Following that, his red-haired brother rounded him up and escorted him, crutches and all, to the kitchen and the sounds of family.

Virgil almost baulked, but a gentle hand in the middle of his back nudged him down the stairs.

“Virgil! Scott’s home!” Alan bounced up to him, nothing but glee-filled relief on his face and the engineer couldn’t help but lift his own mood to match.

The sight of his big brother sitting at the table, pale and wan, managed Virgil a step further in relief, but a step back in worry. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“And good morning to you, too, Virgil.” Scott shoved a forkful of pancake into his mouth, making a point to lick the maple syrup off his lips. “Besides, look in the mirror.”

Virgil was aware of Alan shooting him a concerned look, but he ignored it.

The room was filled with the wonderful smell of fresh cooked pancakes. A glance into the kitchen itself and Virgil found Gordon at the stove, busily producing the pancakes that Scott was so eagerly consuming.

“It’s lunch time.” It was a redundant statement, and said without thought.

He paid for it appropriately.

“Pancakes for lunch is perfect for an invalid fresh home from the hospital.” Gordon’s tone was sharp and Virgil was forced to realise his fish brother hadn’t yet forgiven him.

His heart sank.

“Sit down, Virgil, before you fall down.” Scott was eyeing him as he shoved another forkful in his mouth.

He got cream on his nose.

Alan immediately pointed it out and cracked up laughing as Scott purposefully attempted to lick his own nose and made a complete idiot of himself in the process.

Anything for his brothers.

Virgil sighed as John pointed him to a seat beside their eldest brother. A short stack of pancakes were procured and placed in front of him, as was some orange juice.

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, John shut him down. “No coffee. And don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been sculling the stuff all morning. I’ve seen the free range coffee cup herd in your studio.”

Virgil grunted and glared at the glass.

Condensation reflected his image back at him thousands of times at the microscopic level.

He let the sounds around him merge into the soundscape.

Each brother had his own pitch. His own timbre. Kayo waltzed through at one point, her voice a higher melody amongst the masculine chorus.

Alan’s laughter bounced around the room like someone had dropped a set of cymbals and they were clattering into everything.

Gordon’s tone was unusually sharp and Virgil closed his eyes, knowing it was his fault. His sunshine brother was well into the brass section today.

John was a woodwind. Calm, quiet, melodious. Subtle and sneaking up like a dramatic lead into a surprise.

And Scott…

Virgil’s forehead furrowed.

Scott conducted it all. His warm voice drew it all together and made it work. He was the creator of the symphony that was their family.

Something cold and wet was suddenly smeared on his nose.

What the-?

He opened his eyes to a mixture of white blob and laughing blue.

Somewhere, Alan cracked up again. He must have fallen over, because there was a crash and a squawking Gordon, who in turn began to laugh his ass off.

“That’s a great look, Virg.” Scott was grinning at him.

Beyond Scott, John was smiling ever so fondly.

Virgil turned back to his big brother. “That better be cream.”

His brother’s grin got even wider.

Virgil just stared at him a moment longer before poking out his tongue and casually licking the cream…it was thankfully just vanilla whipped cream…off the end of his nose in one quick swipe.

The room erupted in both awe and horror.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“Ew, gross!”

Even John had a rather weirded out expression on his face.

Only Scott was unfazed, still grinning as if he knew what would happen.

Which he did.

Which was probably why he had done it in the first place.

For his brothers.

Virgil grabbed a napkin and wiped his nose clean properly. He dropped it on the table and then, shifting his chair over a little, let himself slide gently sideways until his head was against Scott’s shoulder. “Glad to have you back.”

Still smiling. “Glad to be here.”

The exclamations of both awe and ew continued until it became a war between the terrible two and who had the longest tongue.

Virgil just let his eyes close and relaxed against his big brother. Eventually an arm crept around him and pulled him a little closer. It felt warm.

It felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” It was a whispered exhalation.

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

Virgil grunted, but was too comfortable to disagree.

Scott was home, and the familiar sounds of his family swelled around him, leaching away the worry and the fear.

It felt safe.

Because Virgil was a brother and obviously, Scott would do anything.

For his brothers.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy

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oboevallis · 5 years ago

Text

unexpected pt 5

“No it’s too early.” Amelia said sitting up in the hospital bed.

“We tried the Terbutaline, and it didn’t work. It’s going to be fine though, your 34 weeks almost 35. We’ve got this.” Carina reassuringly told the scared neurosurgeon. “We’re going to take you up for a c-section in a couple of minutes.”

“It’s going to be okay, Mia.” Link kissed his girlfriends sweaty forehead.

“Call Maggie or Meredith or someone, see if someone wouldn’t mind taking Scout.” Amelia asked her boyfriend on the verge of tears.

“Already taken care of, my parents are with him.”

“When did they get here?”

“This afternoon they were coming in to have dinner with us. They’re gonna stay with Scout for a little bit cause it seems like we’re going to be in the NICU with the baby.”

“Oh god.” Amelia groaned anxiously, she just wanted her baby to be fine.

“Amelia, look at me.” Link gently moved her chin with his hand so she was looking at him. “Our baby’s going to be perfectly fine.”

“Are we ready?” Carina asked coming back into the room ready to take them up to the OR.

“No.” A nervous Amelia responded.

“It’s going to be just fine.” Carina said, wheeling the bed out of the room.

_________________________________________________

“Grandma!” Scout happily exclaimed running towards her.

“Hey.” She reciprocated the hug the little boy was giving her. “How are you?”

“Good.” Scout happily responded as his grandmother sighed him out of daycare.

“Good, I’m going to take you home. I think grandpa is making dinner. And maybe we’ll get some ice cream afterwards.” Maureen told her grandson whilst picking him up to take him back to his house.

“Yay!” The boy exclaimed. “Want to play dinosaurs when we get home?”

“Sure. We can do that.” The walk back to the house was non eventful, Scout told his grandmother all the dinosaur facts he could list off the top of his head.

“Just in time dinners ready.” Eric announced once the pair walked into the kitchen.

“Good, I’m sure your hungry. Right Scout?” Maureen asked the small boy.

“Yep.” Scout happily replied jumping up onto his usually chair. He was quite content, especially that no one was talking about the supposed new baby coming soon.

“So are you excited for the new baby? They’ll be here tonight probably.” Eric told his grandson. Scout stopped the fork from going into his mouth and slammed it down onto the plate.

“No, baby still has to be in mommy’s belly. Daddy said a couple of more Mondays.” Scout announced crossing his arms.

“Well that was what was supposed to happen, but the baby wanted to come early. You’ll love it.” Eric tried to explain.

“No.”

“Well, how about we finish our meal.” Maureen tried to change the subject.

“No thank you.”

“You need to eat bud, you barely ate.”

“Okay.” Scout replied back bitterly. He did not want a new baby, he thought he still had enough time to convince his parents to give the baby away.

_________________________________________________

“You like what you see?” Amelia sarcastically asked her boyfriend in reference to her open abdomen.

“Always.” Her boyfriend smirked kissing her temple. He watched as Carina took the baby out and clamped the umbilical cord. Passing the baby over to Hayes quietly, attentively trying to repair excessive bleeding.

“Why aren’t they crying?”

“Why is she bleeding so much?”

Amelia and Link asked at the same time.

“Well, Amelia it looks like your placenta has ruptured.” Carina responded trying to stay focused, she’d never lost a patient and she wasn’t going to start with a good friend.

“I’m going to take your baby up to the NICU. Everything is as expected we’ll put her on a breathing tube and go from there. Congratulations.” Hayes told the scared couple as he wheeled the baby out of the OR.

“Ha, it’s a girl.” Amelia said through tears. “Go, go, go. Go be with her.”

“No, I’m staying right here.” Link affirmed, he was starting to get more and more nervous when he realized Carina was having difficultly stopping the bleeding. Which his girlfriend seemed to be totally oblivious too.

“I’ll be just fine, go be with her.” Amelia told her boyfriend drowsily as she started to skip in to unconsciousness.

“Carina? What’s the issue? Stop the freaking bleeding!” Link yelled starting to panic.

“Out of my OR Link.” Carina bit back, starting to get stressed. She didn’t need a terrified parent watching her every move, nonetheless a surgeon.

“Nooo way, I’m staying.” Link affirmed, until a scrub nurse directed him out of the OR. “I love you Mia!”

_______________________________________________

The scrub nurse directed him off the OR floor. He didn’t want to go up to the NICU, he wanted them to meet their baby together. So he found himself in the plant room. Their room, where it seemed all their most important and intimate moments happened. It took him a minute to realize his phone was ringing before picking it up.

“Hey mom.” A monotone Link answered.

“Everything okay?” Maureen asked getting concerned with her sons tone.

“No Amelia’s still in the OR probably bleeding to death. And the baby’s in the NICU, I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Do you want me to come up there and sit with you? Or maybe it’ll help if you go see the baby.”

“No, it’s fine. How’s Scout?”

“Oh, he’s good. A little bit of a fight with dinner but he ate.”

“He ate something other than Dino nuggets?” Link chuckled into the phone.

“Yeah he did.” Maureen chuckled along with her son. “A little upset that you two aren’t here, but he’s content at the moment playing dinosaurs with your father.”

“Good. When you put him to bed make sure he has the night light on and the sound machine. He won’t be able to sleep so he’ll just turn on the lights and start playing.”

“Will do. I don’t mean to pry but are you going to tell me anything about my new grand baby?”

“I don’t really know anything, I can’t go see her without Amelia. I just can’t do this without Amelia mom. What if something happens and I’m alone with two kids?”

“Link, Amelia’s a fighter. And of worst comes to worst you’ve got us but that’s not going.m to happen.” Link just hummed in response until Maureen broke the silence. “So it’s a girl?”

“Oh yeah, I haven’t really seen her yet. I already know she’s a little carbon copy of Mia though.”

________________________________________________

“Baby.” Amelia groggily said.

“Hey your up.” Link smiled closing the magazine he was reading and coming to her side.

“How’s my baby?”

“Good, good. Mer is upstairs with her. We can go see her in a little bit when your less groggy. She’s on the vent, but apparently she’s looking pretty good. She’s going to be just fine.” Link smiled leaning down to kiss his girlfriend.

“Apparently? You mean you haven’t seen her?” Amelia asked her boyfriend confused.

“Yeah, I wanted to meet her with you.”

“She’s been alone for hours?” Amelia asked accusingly starting to get upset.

“Mer and Maggie have been with her. She not alone.”

“Yeah and she probably thinks they’re her mothers. God Link! I told you to go be with her!” The neurosurgeon was starting to get herself into a state, deeply upset with her boyfriend.

“Amelia, I’m sorry I just couldn’t. Not without you.”

“Your an idiot. An absolute idiot.” Amelia huffed tears stinging in her eyes. “How’s Scout?”

“He’s good, hopefully in bed by now.”

“Take me to go see her.” Amelia sat up in the hospital bed cautious of her major abdominal injury.

“Amelia, that’s not a a great idea.” Link told his girlfriend, only to be given a death glare. “I’ll go find a wheelchair.”

_________________________________________________

A couple days had passed, and the pair was doing much better, Amelia’s injury healing as it should, and their unnamed daughter was getting stronger by the day.

“Look who came to see his baby sister.” Link happily whispers shouted with their son in his arms, squiring a dollop of hand sanitizer into their hands.

“Hey my little guy.” Amelia smiled taking her hands from inside the incubator and reaching them out for her son. Showering him in kisses. “I missed you sooo much.”

“Me too.” Scout responded snuggling deeper into his mothers embrace, that had been the longest they’d ever been apart.

“There’s your baby sister.” Amelia pointed into the clear incubator.

“She’s tiny.” Scout noted, observing all the wires coming from her. “She a robot?”

“No bud, she just needs those to help her out a bit and feel better.” Link answered after laughing at his sons prediction.

“What’s her name?” The small boy asked intrigued by the small baby.

“We don’t know yet. We have a couple of ideas what do you like? We’ve got Charlotte, Eleanor, Arabella, Addison, Sawyer.” Amelia listed off to her son.

“Addie.” Scout immediately said. “Starts with A , like mommy’s name and daddy’s name and my first name.”

“Huh, I never realized that.” Link noted. “Amelia, Atticus, Augustus, and Addison. I kinda like it.”

“Addison it is.” Amelia smiled to herself, thinking about how excited her old friend would react to hearing they’d name their daughter after her.

“And that S name for a middle name. She can be just like me. Since my name is Augustus Scout. she can be Addison...” Scout waited for someone to fill in the missing word.

“Sawyer.” His mother finished for him.

“Addison Sawyer.” Scout tried out, intently looking at the little baby. “Okay, not sad anymore.”

“Good I’m glad.” Amelia let out a sigh of relief kissing her sons forehead. Knowing her son was probably acting so nice while he was caught up in the moment and once the baby was up crying all night and stealing his toys it’d be a different story. “

Family of four.” Link smiled, leaning down to kiss his girlfriend and place a kiss on his sons forehead.

it’s been a hot minute since ive posted, ive started school back up and my boyfriend really said let’s break up so that’s fun, hope everyone is staying safe and is doing well

#baby amelink #atticus lincoln #amelink #amelia shepherd #greysanatomy #greys fanfic #marureen lincoln #eric lincoln #meredith grey #maggie pierce

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wilsonsnest · 6 years ago

Text

winter, Sweetheart - IV

um, hydra’s finally gone?? yay?? eventually the comfort will come out this series that has for the most part been a lot of hurt. we’re getting there.

un-beta’d as always

ah, make sure you’ve got the Interlude so that this part makes sense.

warnings: dehumanization, angst, violence, hurt and some comfort

It’s all going to shit, but the Soldier is able to keep a single-minded focus on the task at hand with the agents and the Falcon covering his back. The first of the helicarriers has been breached, and his target has gotten the second. They have more back-up that initially planned for, and the blonde man with the wings is competent enough to get past the Hydra agents on the ground.

All the Soldier needs to do is stop Captain America from shutting down the last helicarrier and the mission is complete. He’s fairly confident he can take care of that. As he shoots a Shield pilot he touches the comm on his ear.

“Sweetheart, take out the flying threat.” He instructs as he shoves the body out of the seat and takes control of the plane. He gets an affirmative reply and watches as the Falcon soars overhead, his wings casting long shadows over the landing strip.

The other man has a wing-pack on, it looks fairly similar to the design of the Falcon’s wings, if a bit clunkier and less nimble. He’s good at flying with them though, as he takes off.

The Falcon is better.

The Soldier heads off to the final carrier, confident that his partner has the other situation under control.

He gets to the control panel first, just before Captain America arrives. From the moment they clash, his body tells him that he’s done this before. The movements are familiar, each counter nearly anticipated. Its frustrating, infuriating and slightly exhilarating. What he doesn’t expect is that the other man is somehow getting ahead of him, and in desperation he tackles him and sends them both off the control bridge.

Everything else seems to fade out as they fight. And for a brief moment, he forgets the mission, his instinct just to fight and fight until theres nothing else. It’s not until the code card skids by him that he reaches for it, but it leaves him too open. The Soldier is in disbelief, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t fail this mission, again.

Something seems to snap in his head, the same time as his arm does. His vision goes black, he doesn’t expect such exquisite pain in that arm. It's the shock of it, more than the feel itself that puts him out of commission just long enough to see his enemy climbing up to the control panel again.

He has his gun, but it seems fruitless now. He tries, but the other man is stubborn. The Soldier can’t find his footing when the helicarrier suddenly began shaking, moaning with effort as it begins to fall apart around him. He doesn’t have time to get out of the way before a beam falls and pins him to the ship.

Sweetheart. He hasn’t seen or heard anything from his partner, though he can’t bring himself to believe that some civilian off the street could bring him down. He uses his free arms to try and reach for his comm, but just as he is about to speak, he looks over, out into the sky where pieces of flaming metal are falling around him.

In the middle of it all, he sees him, a dark figure, smoking from onside, though not on fire. One of his wings is flailing desperately while the other is locked, unable to move. The Soldier’s eyes widen and he scrambles to try and move the beam on top of him.

No, no, no. The Falcon can’t be dead, he won’t be. But the Soldier has failed, Hydra’s great plan is in pieces around him and the Falcon is down. He knows they’ll see him as another tech casualty, disappointing but not a necessity. They’ll decommission him and throw him out like another experimental weapon that’s outlived its usefulness.

The Soldier won’t let that happen.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize that he is being freed until the weight lifts off his chest. He scrambles out from underneath it, tucking his broken arm to his chest. There he is, his target. He is dressed like a fool, but his outerwear is diversion from his true strength.

The Soldier growls, low in his throat. His mission was to kill his target. He can still do that, then maybe...

“Bucky,” He’s out of breath, exhausted, but he’s still standing. It’s absolutely infuriating. “You’ve known me your whole life.”

His voice, it’s so desperately familiar, worming its way into the Soldier’s brain, searching for something kept hidden deep down inside. He squeezes his eyes shut for just a second, trying to ignore it. He has to finish this.

He swings at Captain America with his metal arm, nearly throwing himself off balance as the helicarriers continue to explode around them.

“You’re name,” The other man pants as he rises again. “is James Buchanan Barnes.”

The back of his head is starting to hurt, like something has dug their claws in and refused to let go. Pulling, and pulling away at the very fabric of his mind. It feels like when they wipe him, everything falling apart and piecing back together.

“Shut up!” He hears himself scream over the blood rushing in his ears. He throws his weight into the next punch, he just needs to shut him up so that he can *think*.

But he won’t. Stay. Down.

The Soldier is alarmed, growing more desperate than he can ever remembering being. This was never part of his training, these words - these lies or even truths for all he can discern. He feels like he's drowning.

He’s straddling Captain America, even as they are falling from the sky. They’ll both die in a ball of fire and fury at this point. But if he can finish the mission...

He raises his arm back, just once more.

“I’m with you, till the end of the line.”

The Soldier’s eyes widen and suddenly sees an overlay, a face thats familiar to the one in front of him, but different. Only he’s saying it, he can hear his voice, so different, so alive. Those words, I’m with you till the end of the line, pal. He catches the man’s eyes, he sees sadness, the sees pain, he sees - oh, hope.

“Steve.” He whispers and it gets lost in the keening of metal as the ship finally gives way.

The Soldier - Bucky? - No, the Soldier moves on instinct. He jumps after Captain America - Steve? Steve - and into the water. He doesn’t think he’ll drown, but theirs too much debris falling for him to be completely safe. He grabs him, drags him out of the river and onto the bank. Steve is breathing, he’s sure his team will come looking for him.

He hesitates for a moment, drinking in the sight of his face and feeling some sort of acceptance. He doesn’t understand it, but he knows there is something there. The thing Hydra tried to erase from his mind, Steve resides near the humanity of his heart, the last little bit that exists. The same place as the Falcon...

He sucks in a deep breath and stumbles away from Steve, his heart pounding in his chest. The Falcon went down, probably around here. He could have ended up in the water just like Steve, and he doesn’t know if he was in any condition to pull himself out.

He stumbles, half trotting around the perimeter of the tree line, teeth grinding together as he scans for any sign of him. Finally he comes to a stop in front of a path of downed trees, smoking from whatever impact hit them. He follows the path a few yards and he sees crumpled on the ground, a black suited body, one wing splayed out underneath him, the other crooked and sparking.

The Soldier runs to his side, and kneels down, immediately turning him onto his back so that he can assess the damage. A bullet clipped the top of his left wing casing, there are exposed wires and smoke coming from it. The metal of the casing is misshapen and scalded.

He didn’t shoot to kill. The blonde flyer had shot to down the Falcon, not kill him. Maybe when they were safe he would analyze that, but for now.

“Sweetheart,” He murmured quietly, rolling the man onto his side so that he could take off his goggles and mask. His normally warm toned skin looked ashen, and his eyes were closed tightly. “We need to move. Come on.”

He tried to put some edge in his voice, but his heart truly wasn’t in it. He felt emotionally drained, an unfamiliar feeling. He knew he was only keeping it together for the Falcon’s sake.

“You need to retract your wings.” He put a hand on the Falcon’s cheek. “Now.” He added the order, hoping his comrade’s desire to comply overrode the pain he was no doubt feeling.

“Hurts.” the Falcon finally muttered, through gritted teeth. He didn’t open his eyes, but slowly he retracted the thin blades of his wings. the Soldier had to reach over and give the left blade a shove so that it fit into the crushed part of the compartment, causing the Falcon to cry out in pain.

He gathered the other man to him, trying to sooth but knowing he was woefully out of practice. He patted the Falcon’s face, and then moved to his neck, petting where he could to try and comfort. The Falcon sagged against him, body shuddering with the effort to stay awake. In general, they both always felt some low-level of pain in their grafted limbs, but he always knew that the Falcon’s was somewhat worse off than his own. He’d always born it without complaint, even after long hours spans of flying where the metal wore on his muscles.

This had to be bad, and the Soldier didn’t have the tools to try and fix it here.

He helped the Falcon up, wrapping his arm around his waist. He’d carry him, but his other arm was currently out of commission. Grunting, he began to walk, keeping in pace with the Falcon until he could find his footing.

What a pair they made. It seems that Hydra had truly lost all of its great weapons in one fell swoop, all thanks to Captain America. The Soldier would remember to be impressed once he got the Falcon to safety.

#sambucky #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rogers #mcu fanfic #wintersweetheart #the comfort is so close i can taste it

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