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emilyoftheshadows · 3 years

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Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

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Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

“Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked.

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself.

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing.

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side.

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch.

Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions.

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop.

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now.

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

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hufflautia · 3 years

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Believe me darling, the stars were made for falling

Hello! I didn’t expect to post this “fanfic” because I didn’t write it specifically for fanfiction, if that makes sense. Today, (well it is technically tomorrow for you or perhaps you’re not viewing this on the day that I posted it. today is 12/11 (technically its 12/12 because its 1:39 AM rn lmao i did my makeup and it took longer than expected)) my creative writing teacher told us to write a short piece for a character that I created for the class. I wrote it and I thought about posting it because I liked the idea of it, and I felt as though the main character had slytherin vibes. I also really like the ending, and I wanted to share it with others.

This is not a typical slytherpuff story. It has no magic involved. Slytherin and Hufflepuff are normal people like you and me, aka muggles (or maybe you’re not a muggle( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) who knows?). The story has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Thus, I am creating another section for my masterlist and it will be labeled “somefink special” because its not technically harry potter related. However, it will always have Hufflepuff and Slytherin in it, because I made sure to change the names from the original character. Stories like this is just a work of art that I would like to share with others, so I think of it as somefink special (and somefink is not an actual word, its supposed to be “something” but i just think the spelling is funny). I’m not sure if I will post more stuff like this, as in stuff that doesn’t relate to harry potter but still has my usual characters. Heck, perhaps I’ll write fanfics like this but for other character ships like Slytherin x Ravenclaw or the other ones. We shall see.

Anyways, this “quick” author’s note is running a little long, so I will end it here. I hope you guys enjoy reading this! TOODELOO

FYI, this is not my “monthly” fanfic. In other words, this isn’t the only fanfic that I will be posting for december. I will still be posting The Queen and the Dragon soon (around Christmas). I am almost done with the college process, I need to revise some of my essays and I will finally submit it. After that, I will continue writing the long story. I am currently stuck at a difficult scene that will require a lot of thinking, hence the delay. OK BYE NOW, THIS IS THE FOR-REALSIES TOODELOO :D!

***WARNINGS: Drug abuse, addiction, and suicidal thoughts

Summary: Slytherin is hanging out with her favorite person in the entire world: Hufflepuff, her darling little sister. They lay beneath the stars, comfortable silence drifting upon them like a soft blanket that wraps around them, keeping them safe from outside forces that threaten their moment of contentment. This small pocket of tranquility is rare—and Slytherin knows this. She knows it all too well. As if on cue, it breaks into shattered pieces when she overhears their parents arguing. Again. Dread stealing her breath, a familiar urge rises once more, an urge that is more destructive than she realizes. She wishes the overwhelming feeling of anxiety would go away. And it could—with the help of a couple of pills.

Slytherin smiled, a feeling of mirth warming her heart when she saw the smile plastered on her sister’s face as they laid on their backs against the porch floor, staring up at the stars. She took a hold of Hufflepuff’s hand, her touch slightly sweaty but cold at the same time. She didn’t mind and merely gave it a light squeeze. A cool night breeze blew past them, the wind’s touch like gentle kisses against their skin.

This was nice. This was really nice. Slytherin hardly had any time for herself this week, because she was busy with exam after exam, stress piling on top of her before she could even take a breath of air. To her relief, the burdens finally lifted because it was Saturday, and she didn’t have to worry about school. She was with her sister, and that was all she needed. In fact, she was so comfortable and content that she didn’t even think about the drugs. A pestilent part of her, the part that was created the moment she swallowed the white pill down her throat, urged her to go inside. To walk nonchalantly towards the bathroom with a pace that was fast enough so that she would get to where she wanted to go quickly but slow enough to not attract any attention. To snatch her mom’s bottle of Xanax and hurry to her own room, making sure to lock the door before sitting on her bed. To pop the drug into her mouth and allow the artificial feeling of euphoria to overtake her.

But that destructive part of her settled down, for she was with the person she loved most. Their surroundings dark enough to see the hazy glow of the stars above, they laid there, gazing upon the night sky. Aside from the soft rustling of the trees nearby and the occasional giggles that spilled from her sister’s mouth because that’s just how 10-year-olds were, it was quiet and peaceful.

But like most things, it didn’t last for long.

“You fucking asshole!”

Through the walls, Slytherin could hear her mother’s muffled words, her tone hot and angry. Whenever her parents argued, they would spit curse words out like poison, the dreadful toxin targeted at each other with the intent to kill and destroy.

She sighed. For once, just for once, why couldn’t things be normal? She desperately wished that the comfortable silence that drifted upon them could come back, and she would gladly welcome it with open arms.

However, she felt Hufflepuff squeeze her hand, and she knew that the peace that she had known a few minutes ago would not return. Not for a while. Squeezing her hand was a nervous habit of Hufflepuff’s—a habit that Slytherin was well aware of. Even if she tried her very best to shield her darling sibling from the atrociousness of their home-life, it was essentially impossible.

Her sister was young and so terribly innocent. If she could, she would take all the pain that Hufflepuff endured from living in a dysfunctional household and pour it into herself. That way, she wouldn’t have to suffer.

But this wasn’t a fairy tale. Slytherin didn’t have magical powers to take their suffering away. She couldn’t give her sister the happy ending that she deserved. This was reality, and they would just have to endure this for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered before opening the porch door and stepping into the dungeon that she called home. Dread seemed to choke her as she neared her parents’ room, inhaling sharply at the sound of shouts that seemed to boom from the walls.

Gingerly turning the knob of their door, she peeked inside. Tears trickled down her mother’s face, her slightly red eyes ablaze with anger. “I can’t believe you would cheat on me again!”

Her dad started to mutter something lowly but she cut him off. “Do you have any idea how much this affects me,” she said in disbelief. “How much this affects your children?”

She suddenly caught sight of Slytherin, who immediately felt a sinking feeling in her chest when she was caught lurking. The feeling intensified when her mom walked towards her.

Slytherin immediately withdrew and tried to close the door but her mom opened it enough to fixate the full force of her anger onto her daughter. “Why can’t you mind other people’s business,” she hissed before slamming the door shut, leaving her in complete darkness.

There it was. The breaking point. Her face contorted into a grimace as she tried to will the tears away. Her sadness quickly morphed into annoyance. “I hate her,” she thought angrily as she walked to her room. “She’s gonna wish she didn’t say that when she finds me dead on the fucking floor.” Her chest heaved with sorrow and a torrent of emotions clashed within her. A million thoughts zoomed through her head. Fucking bitch, I fucking hate you. I hate everything. I wish I was never born into this family. I hate my parents, I hate my mom, I hate my dad. Why the fuck did he have to cheat? Were we not enough?

She was frustrated and resentful, but most of all, she was broken inside. She needed to calm the raging storm of anxiety within her—and she knew exactly what to do.

Hiding the bottle of Xanax in her pocket, she walked towards her room. Just as she was opening her door, she felt someone close their hand over her wrist. She looked back and saw Hufflepuff, who looked at her with furrowed brows.

“Are you coming back,” she asked in a small voice.

Slytherin swallowed with difficulty. If things had gone differently, she would have gone back to the porch with her sister and continued their night of stargazing. If her parents weren’t completely psychos whose hate for each other shook the household, she wouldn’t be addicted to the drugs that controlled her life.

“I have homework to do,” she responded. “Ask Gryffindor to go outside with you, okay?”

Her sister nodded and started her way to their other sister who decided not to join them on the porch because she had cooler 13-year old things to do.

Slytherin watched her retreating figure before closing the door and twisting the lock in a flash. She exhaled slowly as she took a seat on the edge of her bed.

“Finally,” she breathed out in a whisper as she uncapped the bottle, gently shaking it so that a couple of tablets spilled out onto her hand. She had never taken so much, and she knew that as she poked the contents with a finger. But she needed this. Her family—more specifically, her parents—were fucked up, and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t fix her father’s constant infidelity. She couldn’t control her mother’s temper. Hell, she couldn’t even take hold of her own life, for the white rectangular capsules held the reins, the power. And she would gladly let it take control. Just for a little while longer.

Slytherin tossed the pills into her mouth and took a sip of water to ease them down her throat. She fell back onto her bed with her arms spread out on either side of her, forming a crooked ‘T’ shape. As she stared up at the ceiling, a blissful smile slid onto her face.

She could see the stars again.

Comments and reblogs are a writer’s gold!

MASTERLIST ; sometimes links don’t appear on posts. if you can’t see the link linked to “MASTERLIST”, the masterlist itself is pinned to the top of my blog. check it out if you haven’t already :D

Author’s note: HELLO AGAIN! I hope you enjoyed reading that. The story is dark and sad, so I will include some wholesome pictures to rid you of the lingering sadness that you might be feeling right now.

you can probably tell that i’m a dog person lmao :’) I hope you are feeling better! I am not sure if I will turn this into a series; there is a chance I will because I will have to continue writing stories in english class for this character. i actually have another story for the character (her name is Faye) and idk if I should post it. Let me know if you want me to release it!

Did anyone else feel slytherin vibes from... well, slytherin? Technically it’s Faye, but I changed the name for the purpose of posting. In my opinion, the slytherin in her is presented in the fact that she cares a lot about her sister, aka Hufflepuff, and slytherins typically care a lot about those close to them. it was also shown in the sense that she isolates herself, but then again, anyone can isolate themself, regardless of their hogwarts house. maybe im just overthinking this. After all, if I had changed the name from Faye to Hufflepuff, that could still work as well.

In fact, I might even change the names sometimes, depending on what is happening in that moment. Faye is pansexual, and I was talking to my friend about the story, and she said maybe she’ll get a gf, so maybe ill keep Faye’s name as Slytherin and have Hufflepuff (DIFFERENT HUFFLEPUFF FROM THE LITTLE SISTER OF COURSE) be the girlfriend?? idk, we’ll see.

Anyways, let me know what you thought of this fanfic. Should I do more like this, as in post my future works that arent actually related to harry potter but is set in the real world?

OH GOSH BEFORE I FORGET, THANK YOU FOR 700!! I guess this will be my thank you present, because I like to write fanfics as a present whenever I hit a follower mark. I intended The Queen and The Dragon to be the thank-you present for 600, but we are well past that, and the fanfic is long overdue. I had planned to change the fanfic to “thank you for 700” but i plan on posting it near christmas, so i will consider it as a “MERRY CHRISTMAS, HERES A FANFIC:D”.

As always, I appreciate you very very much. Thank you for reading this and being caring enough to do so. I appreciate that very very very much, and I am sending you some gucci vibes! It is currently 2:34 am and i should get some sleep. goodnight! love you all! BYE

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years

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Virtue & Valor [3]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist

You and your husband have the perfect life. Jobs that you love, a happy marriage, an amazing sex life… You couldn’t ask for anything more. But when something unexpected shows up on your front doorstep that completely turns your world upside down, can your relationship survive the fallout? Or will you have to let your feelings go in favor of the greater good? Letting go of the past can be difficult, especially when the future looks so bleak, but maybe you can figure out how to move forward together. You may just make it out to see the other side.

Word Count: 4334

Warnings: Canon typical violence, strong language, Hydra fuckery,

“20 minutes from the drop site.”

You look up from the tablet with the mission file that you’d been reading as you stand at the back of the jet. The other agents start to move, grabbing their gear, tucking various weapons into different straps and harnesses across their bodies.

“How does it feel to be back out of the ice, Cap,” one of the agents asks, a twisted smile on his lips as he slaps a hand to the Captain’s shoulder. “You’d been in there quite a while. What was it like? Did you ever dream while you were in there or is it just completely blank in there the whole time?” he taps a finger to the Captain's temple.

“Do you ever shut up, Rumlow?” you question in annoyance. The Captain doesn’t respond to the questions, just continues to look forward as if he hasn’t heard anything.

Rumlow turns his gaze to you, that ever-present smirk still on his mouth as he scoffs. “How’s it going with the Misses, over there?” he asks the Captain with a jerk of his thumb in your direction. “I certainly wouldn’t mind having a handler as hot as that one. I bet she takes real good care of you, doesn’t she?”

You roll your eyes at his childish antics. “Come, Soldat. It’s time to gear up.”

“Mommy’s calling,” Rumlow teases, slipping his hand off the Captain’s shoulder.

The Captain moves fluidly, like a shadow in the night, as he steps over to you to grab his gear. His black tactical uniform allows him to blend in with the other agents. There’s just one obvious difference between his uniform and theirs. The blood-red logo on the center of his chest grabs your attention. The black, soulless eyes of the skull look back at you in the same way the Captain’s eyes do. Tentacles curl out from underneath the skull, like writhing snakes.

“Ya gotov otvechat,” the Captain tells you, his voice cracked and hollow, as he stands at attention. Ready to comply.

You feel empty inside as your response tumbles passed your lips. “Hail Hydra.”

You wake with a start to the sound of a knock on your bedroom door. You sit up a little blearily and wipe at your eyes. “Come in,” you respond, briefly wondering why Steve would knock on his own bedroom door.

However, Steve isn’t the one that steps into the room. It’s the redhead. Natasha.

You swing your feet over the side of the bed and stand up, eyeing her warily.

She raises her hands up as a sign of coming in peace. “We’re not here to hurt you,” she tells you. “We only want to help.”

“Help?” you repeat with a scoff. “You think that telling me my marriage is a lie is going to help?”

“Hydra is keeping you complicit by feeding you a fantasy. Only the truth can set you free. You have to trust me on this,” she urges.

“Well, I don’t trust you.”

“You did once before.” She crosses her arms over her chest and stands her ground. “You and I have known each other for a long time.” You slowly walk around the bed, taking your place in front of her and mimic her pose. “We trained together when I first got to SHIELD.”

“I’ve never worked for any SHIELD. I’m just a PE teacher,” you insist.

She raises a brow as the corner of her mouth tilts. “I’ve never heard of any PE teachers that teach Mixed Martial Arts to a bunch of teenagers.”

You frown, wondering what else Steve has told these people.

“Hydra built you the picture-perfect life. Mixing just enough of your base personality with new memories and a happily-ever-after storyline to keep you from questioning your reality. You know that this isn’t right. You know that the picture is photoshopped. You just have to be willing to accept it.”

You don’t give her a response, so she keeps going.

“Sam and I are only guests here. We can’t navigate this world the way you and Steve potentially can, but you have to be willing to take back your control. If Hydra has been able to do all of this to your mind, imagine what they’re doing to your body! The longer it takes for you to wake up the more powerful their grasp on you becomes.”

“Enough!” you shout. You dart forward, not even thinking about what you’re doing. Grabbing her by the side of the neck and shoulder, you slam her face-first onto the mattress. Before she can react, your hand dives underneath her shirt, grasping the handle of the gun that’s tucked into the back of her jeans. You then jump back, holding the gun with deadly accuracy at her head.

She raises her hands in surrender as she slowly straightens back up, now eyeing you warily.

Your breathing comes out in heavy puffs, but your hands remain steady as adrenaline surges through you. It takes a couple more seconds before your mind finally catches up with your actions. You take a stumbling step back, arms lowering slightly. “How- How did I know you had this gun on you? How did I even do that?”

“Because we’ve been training together for years,” she tells you calmly. “Because you’re an Avenger.”

“I’m not!” you argue, but your voice waivers. “I’m just me! I’ve never even held a gun before!”

“Then why does it feel so familiar?”

Your breath catches at her words. Because she’s right. It does feel familiar. And that terrifies you. Your hands tremble before you drop them completely. Your thumb moves on its own to click the safety back into place as if you’ve done it a thousand times.

“Val…” Natasha calls hesitantly.

“Get out,” you whisper brokenly.

“We only want to help-” she tries one more time.

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!” you scream, flying into a rage so intense that your vision turns red.

“Okay,” Natasha responds softly, keeping her hands raised. She moves slowly so as not to startle you, even though you keep the gun lowered at your side. She backs out of the room and soon she’s out of your sight.

You choke on your next breath, the rage draining out of you and leaving behind an empty sort of ache. Your hold loosens on the gun and it falls with a dull thud to the carpet at your feet. “Oh my God…” you gasp out before covering your mouth. You feel like you’re going to be sick. Your body is shaking by the time the first sob forces its way out of your throat.

“Hey,” you hear his soft voice moments before Steve’s arms wrap around you and pull you into his warm embrace.

You allow yourself to completely breakdown against him, the tears falling from your closed eyes and soaking into his shirt. He gently rocks you back and forth, running his hands soothingly over your back. You feel like your whole world has just cracked and it’s mere seconds away from completely shattering. You’re barely holding on by a thread.

You must cry until you’ve completely exhausted yourself because you don’t remember when the crying stopped, but you’re now waking up to the morning sunlight filtering in through the curtains. It takes a few blinks before you realize that something’s not right. Normally Steve would have woken you up by now.

You turn to look over your shoulder, but there’s an obvious lack of another body on the bed. In fact, both his pillow and the extra blanket that’s normally folded over the foot of the bed are missing, too. You frown, feeling that sense of dread pooling deep in your gut. Pushing yourself out from the warmth and general safety of the covers, you look for the strength needed to try to face whatever comes at you today.

You find yourself curling your arms over your stomach as you make your way down the hall as a means of self-comfort and protection. When you surpass the kitchen and head straight for the living room, you find Steve exactly where you expected. He’s standing in front of the couch, folding up the blanket from your bed.

“Why did you sleep out here?” you ask in a hushed voice as if talking any louder will ignite the tension that seems to weigh over you and will cause it to explode.

Steve keeps his gaze focused on his task, not even giving you a glance. “Had a lot on my mind. Didn’t want to keep you awake.”

You feel like a frayed piece of cloth that’s coming apart at the seams. Pulling on the thread just makes it unravel even more, but you can’t seem to stop it. “Steve, please tell me you don’t actually believe anything those people said yesterday,” you beg.

He releases a long sigh, setting the blanket down on top of his pillow. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.” He finally lifts his gaze and meets yours.

You don’t like what you see. The seed of doubt has been planted inside of him and it’s had all night to grow. The uncertainty in his eyes cuts you to pieces like a thousand tiny daggers.

“Believe in us,” you tell him, your voice wavering emotionally. “Believe in the vows we took for each other.”

“And what if we didn’t really take them?” he cuts in.

Your lips tremble as you desperately fight for composure. “Wouldn’t you rather be happy if you were given the option?” you ask him the same question he asked you just yesterday.

His eyes turn sad and it makes your heart crack. “Not if the happiness is a lie.”

“Steve…” The crack in your heart splinters before it completely shatters.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, dropping his gaze once more. As if the words will be enough to fix what’s just broken.

You want this to be a dream. Some sort of twisted nightmare. You want to wake up back in bed and back in his arms. To feel his sleepy morning kisses against your lips and his feather-light touch over your skin. You don’t want this. Whatever this is.

Before you can decide what you want to say next, there’s another knock on the front door. Steve must read the panic on your face as he moves to answer it. “It’s not them,” he tells you.

Your brow furrows as you wonder how he could possibly know that. You follow him to the hall, but hang back as he pulls open the door.

“Package for Steve Rogers,” says the delivery carrier on the other side of the door.

“That’s me,” Steve confirms taking the package from the man. He tucks it under his arm, giving a gentle thanks to the delivery man before closing the door.

“What is it?” you find yourself asking. It’s a relatively large, but flat box. Almost like a pizza box, but bigger.

Steve moves passed you toward the kitchen. “Natasha said they’d send something that could help restore our lost memories. Some type of data package.”

“A data package…” you repeat doubtfully. “That showed up as a box from a delivery guy… because we live in a computer…” You’re hoping the words sound as ridiculous to him as they do to you.

“Won’t know until we open it,” he shrugs, disregarding your tone. He sets the box down on the kitchen table and grabs a pair of scissors. He slices through the tape and lifts the top lid of the box.

You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting but it’s certainly not whatever you were looking at. “What is that?”

“It’s a shield,” Steve tells you, looking over the large circular disc. “Captain America’s shield.”

“How is that a data package?” you question. Every little thing seems to only raise more questions than answers.

“I’m not sure…” Steve takes a second to look it over before reaching forward to run his fingers over the white star in the center. He inhales sharply, his spine straightening as his eyes glaze over.

“Steve?” You call out, startled by the sudden change in him. You’re not sure if you should be doing something, but before you can take any sort of action, Steve rips his hand off the shield and stumbles back a few steps. “Are you okay?” you place your hand on his arm to help stabilize him.

He jolts away from your touch as if it burns. “I’m fine,” he gives a curt response in a tone you don’t recognize. “I remember the truth. I remember who we really are.”

When he finally meets your gaze, it’s not your husband that looks back at you. In fact, if his features weren’t so familiar to you, you’d think you were looking at a complete stranger. Gone is the soft, gentle, and sweet art teacher. In his place stands someone who’s hard, disciplined, and stoic.

“Steve…” you choke on his name, shaking your head. “Don’t. Please don’t do this.”

“It’s time to wake up, Val. Everything around us has been created and molded by Hydra. We can’t stay here any longer, but I can’t get you out of here until you fully understand what we’re up against.”

“No,” you deny. “That’s not possible! This isn’t a fake world! This is our home! This is our life!”

“Enough!” Steve insists, quickly growing annoyed with your denial. “None of this is real! You’re not my wife!”

You rear back as if he’d just slapped you.

Seeing the look on your face, Steve makes an attempt to soften his features. “Look, everything will make more sense after you touch the shield.”

“No!” you protest, taking several steps back and cross your arms over your chest as if you expect him to come at you and force you to touch it. “No, if this is what it’s done to you… then I don’t want that.”

“You can’t stay here forever!”

“Why not?!” You argue. “We were happy! Why can’t you just be happy with the way things were?”

“Because it was an illusion! A trick to keep us distracted from what’s really happening here.”

“Nothing is happening here, Steve! Except for you deciding to throw away our marriage because of two complete strangers that showed up at our doorstep!”

“They’re not strangers! And you would know that if you would just touch the God damn shield!”

The tension between you both has gone from a flickering flame to a full-on raging inferno. You can’t remember the last time the two of you have had such an explosive argument and that thought only seems to piss you off even more. You hate that any little blank space within your memory only seems to tip the scales of truth further toward Steve’s perspective.

“I won’t! I won’t touch it and I won’t give up on us!”

“Aren’t you listening?! There is no us! Not in the way that you think. Only in the way that Hydra made you believe. Everything we had was based on a lie. It’s nothing but a pretty piece of artwork created by someone as a means to keep us trapped here. There was no wedding, no honeymoon, no marriage. You can’t give up on something that was never there.”

“Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you feel absolutely nothing for me?” you challenge him. “Look me in the eye and tell me that because you now remember the so-called ‘truth’, all the nights we’ve spent wrapped in each other’s arms, every stolen kiss between class periods, every moment you were fucking inside me… is now completely meaningless to you. Tell me that none of that matters.”

“Val…” he winces like he’s in physical pain, some of the fight deflating out of him.

“Tell me, Steve,” you urge through clenched teeth. “Tell me I don’t matter.”

“You,” he starts before his voice falters. His jaw ticks as he tries to keep himself composed. “You are my responsibility. I got us into this mess and I’ll find a way to get us out. But I need you to be stronger than this. You’re an Avenger, so start acting like one.”

He squares his shoulders and moves to grab his wallet and keys from the bowl on the counter. His actions throw you for a loop as you stare after him when he makes his way toward the garage door. “Where are you going?” you ask in disbelief that he’s just walking out on this conversation.

He opens the door and glances briefly at you over his shoulder. “I need to clear my head.” The door closes behind him with a resounding slam. You next hear the mechanical whirring of the garage door opening moments before the rumbling purr of Steve’s motorcycle starts up. Soon he has become no more than a sound fading into the distance as he takes off and leaves you behind.

You can’t believe that he just left. The shock is slowly eaten away by the fire of rage within you. It bubbles and pops like molten lava as it feeds and grows on the frustration and pain that are also tumbling inside you. It builds and mixes into a volatile cocktail until you feel like you’re about to burst at the seams. Unable to keep these feelings inside you any longer, you erupt in a sharp scream of rage and swipe the box off the kitchen table.

The shield separates from the cardboard mid-air and clatters to the floor with a metallic twang. The sound, though not particularly loud, seems to slice straight through you. It’s a unique sound but is also somehow familiar to you. It seems to ring in your ears and bounce around your head.

You release a pitiful whine as you raise your hands to your ears in a vain attempt to make the sound stop before you crumble to your knees on the kitchen floor. The more you try to resist, the more your head begins to ache. “No…” you squeeze your eyes tight and shake your head, willing the sound to leave you alone. “Stop,” you beg. “I don’t want this.”

You envision brief glimpses of the shield flying through the air before it collides with various objects and releases that same twang. The shield is so clear in your mind, but everything else from the memories seems to be just out of reach. You can’t let go of the deeply seeded feeling that these truly are memories, though. Your memories.

Your eyes snap open as you release a startled gasp. Your eyes land once more on the shield where it rests just a few paces away from you. You’re not sure how much time passes as you sit on the kitchen floor just staring at it in a battle of wills. You almost feel like you’re getting drawn in by it. Compelled to just reach out and touch it, despite how much you really don’t want to.

Like following a whisper in the back of your mind, you find yourself inching closer. You’re not even sure if you’ve blinked the entire time as you come to a stop with your hand stretched over the shield. You pause and find yourself hesitating. You know that there’s no going back once you’ve touched it. You can continue to stay in this blissful ignorance, but without Steve, there’s nothing left for you here.

At least after you’ve touched it you know that you’ll get to go where ever he’s going. Maybe you can do something to salvage what’s left of your tattered relationship.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper quietly, though you’re not entirely sure who it’s meant for. Be it, your broken heart, or maybe just as a goodbye to the life that you thought you could have here.

You close your eyes, allowing a single tear to slide down your cheek before you press your hand down onto the cold metal.

Images flash in lightning speed across your closed eyelids. You thought it might play out in your mind like a movie on fast forward, but it doesn’t. It’s more like small snippets here and there in no particular order. You see Steve in his Captain America suit, jumping out of the back of a plane. You see Natasha in an all-black stealth suit taking down enemies in combat with swift elegance. You see Sam flying above you with a pair of metal wings. There’s a man walking out of a red and gold robotic suit of armor. Tony. A flash of lightning followed by a flying hammer and a man in a red cape. Thor.

Bit by bit the snippets begin to come together, forming your life story. You remember the fall of SHIELD shortly followed by your recruitment to the Avengers. You remember training with the team and going on missions. Fighting side by side with every single one of them.

You remember the mission briefing with Steve the day before the two of you left the compound. You remember the fear that shot through your veins when the Quinjet took its first hit. And the pain that exploded throughout your whole body when it crashed.

Your hand rips off the shield. You take a few heavy breaths, your eyes opening once more as the memories settle in place within your mind. You give yourself another moment to let your heart rate slow before you pick yourself up off the floor. You scoop up the shield as well and let it rest against the wall.

You release a soft groan, and rub your forehead. You decide that a hot shower might be a good way to calm your reeling mind and help you plan your next steps. Your head feels extremely full now that your original memories are back, but the planted ones are still in there, as well. It’s strange how the planted ones feel no different from the real memories. It's like having two completely separate lives and memories jammed into one brain. You almost feel like there’s not enough space to store it all.

While you’re in the middle of lathering shampoo into your hair, you come to the realization that besides the planted memories, you can’t recall anything else after the plane crash. You don’t remember getting rescued or retrieved from the crash. You don’t remember any sort of Hydra facility. You certainly don’t recall any sort of mental download into this world. Your ‘real-life’ memories go directly from the moment of the crash to touching the shield.

Now that you’re a little more aware of what a memory alteration might feel like, you can’t help but notice that there seems to be a few blanks left. Something that’s still getting blocked somehow. You’re not sure what to make of that.

You finish up your shower and throw on some clothes. Steve hasn’t returned yet, so you head back for the kitchen to start on breakfast. It feels strange to go through your normal morning routine, knowing that everything is fake. Do you even need to eat in this world? However, the only other option is to basically sit and wait for him to come back, and you’re far too jittery for that, so cooking food is the best way to keep yourself moving.

The menial task and thoughts of Steve has your mind wandering a little as you try to grapple with the return of your memories and how that changes the way you feel about him. Or more accurately, how it doesn’t seem to change your feelings at all. It’s true that you hadn’t been in any sort of relationship prior to leaving for the mission, but thinking about going back to a strictly platonic and professional relationship makes you ache. When you try to separate memory from feeling, it still feels like you’re in love with him. It makes you wonder if maybe he’ll feel the same.

Time seems to drag as you wait for Steve’s return. You make your breakfast, eat the food, and then clean up the dishes. You dispose of the cardboard box that the shield arrived in, and then straighten up the rest of the kitchen. You begin to feel like you should be doing something more than your normal routine. Maybe figure out how to help Steve find a way out. But you don’t even know where to begin. You now wish that you had stuck around a little longer when Nat and Sam had been here. You don’t really know the first thing of what’s really going on here.

You’re a little worried that any sort of deviation from what’s normal might tip off Hydra to the change that has occurred to you and Steve. There’s no way to know what kind of level of monitoring they could have here. What if they already know? What if they’ve been watching you this whole time?

The paranoia doesn’t exactly help matters at all, so you attempt to push it aside and continue to wait for Steve. You hope that he may have more answers. You’re in the middle of folding laundry in the bedroom to keep yourself distracted when you hear the rumble of Steve’s motorcycle returning to the house.

Setting down the t-shirt, you move back to the kitchen. When he steps through the door, he meets your gaze first before looking toward the table. His brows furrow when he notes that the shield is missing before he spots it leaning against the wall. He turns his gaze back to you, giving you a curious look.

You try to keep your expression neutral, wanting to try to get a read on him before you decide to bring up anything about your relationship. You understand that there are more important things at stake. You have to be willing to put your heart on hold for now. “So, what’s the plan, Cap?” you ask him directly.

Part 4

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #agent valor #virtue & valor

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wcamino-confessions · 4 years

Text

The Scamming Situation

First of all, the hope was that this would all be kept private, since no one in this is happy with the outcome. I’m CrownFerret, and I was friends between RenegadeCroww (who I know as Korbin) and the victim. Korbin’s tablet had broken, and he needed it to draw and do commissions. I can’t honestly remember if the tablet was fixed, or if a new one was bought, but either way $200 had to be made by Korbin to satisfy their parent as repayment for the tablet. I’ll call this person Ace (has nothing to do with who they really are, just a nickname to keep from saying “the person”) Ace who had helped other in many other situations decided to offer $200 as soon as the coming Friday. Unfortunately, I don’t have a recording of this conversation because it was in a voice chat in my Discord server. However, I was there for the agreement that for Ace’s $200, Korbin would repay him with art. It was like a giant commission what Ace would work on getting over time (like ordering art piece by art piece until it was cleared up) I want to make it evident that Korbin was the one to suggest the art in the first place. So Ace and Korbin went on, Korbin came back into the server shortly after and said that his parent was getting more and more on his ass about the money. Ace, seeing the message, assured that he’d send the money the following Friday. Korbin apologized for his parent being so impatient, and that’s when Ace decided to send the money early. This was the first text message that shows that Korbin was aware he’d be paying him back, but he suddenly switched it to money. Part 1 - https://sta.sh/01oq2f6af8ka Part 2 - https://sta.sh/01maho15i665 (I will post the link in the comments of this submission if it doesn’t work in post.) So then that was it? Right? That was the end of it? Korbin drew the owed art for Ace and all was well. That’d be nice if that was the case, instead there was no communication from Korbin. No, instead he was in my DMs constantly talking about how he felt about Ace, and all the issues they had. I listened, and I gave advice when I could. This behavior continued into into my hiatus, but still I remained the middle man between them because Korbin wouldn’t go to Ace directly to discuss the problems himself. I had to transfer messages myself. Now, private messages I am way more touchy on showing since these are the private messages between Korbin and I, and so I’ll only show what I think is most relevant. Here is where Korbin brings up again that he recognizes he owes Ace art. https://sta.sh/02czk6zb2ac2 * I blocked out his name, as well as a friend’s name as to not tie their name to this whole thing. I continued to be there for Korbin and Ace at the same time. While Korbin was going on about how Ace supposedly only kept Korbin around for art, I was calming down Ace who was constantly worried about how Korbin was doing, and if they were being too harsh. And then something else happened. On April 1st (bad day for this to happen, I know) Ace vented in a chat, leaving out names, but the people within the chat found out who it was. At this point, Ace was coming to the realization that he wasn’t going to get the art at all. Ace’s friends found it was Korbin, and they started trying to get Korbin banned. Ace, however, is the only reason Korbing wasn’t banned, as he stopped the mob and told them that Korbin would be paying him back just to make them stop. So Korbin wasn’t banned that day, and I was in PMs with him trying to calm Ace down. Once the mob was over, we just returned to normal, since we were still on speaking terms with Korbin, and had yet to really take action- just hoping it was going to be sorted out without needing to get the WA LT into it. https://sta.sh/0zqgcb9h21m ^ Part of our conversation, showing Ace DID NOT want Korbin banned at the time, and did his best to protect him. It was pretty silent, and then April 27th came around, and I had been in contact with Ace since he had shown clear discomfort in my WA chat. We talked for a bit, and then I decided to try and talk to Korbin myself and see what I could work out between them. To save space in this submission, the outcome of the talk was an understanding that they weren’t going to be friends anymore. This was also when I learned of the apparent “lies” and “rumors” that Korbin said were being spread about them. The “lie” was that Korbin owed Ace anything, and when I say I was surprised– Not only was that said to someone who had been in the call when it was decided, but I also owned the server that the payment was made in. I knew that Korbin had made a deal with Ace to draw for him in return for the $200 he sent. Again, it was like a giant commission and everyone in attendance at the time had that understanding. I believe that’s when Ace finally caved, and it was reported that Korbin had scammed him out of the money. I won’t say directly what leaders were involved, as I know at least one has asked to remain anon through this, and I will respect that. The LT member speaking to Korbin said that since it was off Amino (on Discord), Korbin couldn’t be punished on amino for his actions. Okay, we get that, that’s understandable. Now here’s the kicker. The same LT member excused the scam, and the reason was that Korbin had made onecustom for Ace. That one custom excused Korbin entirely from the scam in the eyes of that LT member. Ace was understandably upset, and we returned to our PMs. That was shortly before we both decided that it wasn’t worth it, and Ace made the choice to instead end their friendship, and leave it at that. No refund, no more talking about it, just the end. I also found myself feeling the same, and then Korbin messaged me, further calling Ace a liar. https://sta.sh/059m63twkj4 ^ The comment where he accused Ace of spreading the “lie” I’ll admit, I got very angry. My whole motto since I got back has been “why waste time being angry” But I was tired. I was tired of constantly hearing Korbin say shit about one of my closest friends over and over again. And so I lost it, and we got into an argument. It ended at the same time our friendship did. Ace and I were ready to move on. I told the server since Korbin was pretty active there, and we were only going to tell mutuals about the full story since they wanted to know the most. I made it very clear that none of our friends would have to pick sides, we just wanted them to know. And then you guys heard. You heard, and Korbin spewed out what could have been the worst way to handle this. Now, if you have questions, then ask them, but this is the full story as it happened, with screenshots and dates to back it up. No one forced Korbin to delete his account, he did it all on his own. Ace doesn’t want to dwell on the situation, and the sooner we all move on, the better. What you chose to do as a friend of Korbin’s is none of our business, and only of your own concern. Don’t attack Korbin, don’t name call him, don’t feed into the fire.

#submission

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secretly-of-course · 4 years

Note

when did u start drawing and do u have any tips for beginners?

Hi anon! I’m so excited you want to try drawing! This may be more than you bargained for but I hope you find it helpful. I’m working under the assumption that you are a very beginner, so I apologize if any of this seems obvious to you already.

I started drawing digitally roughly a year ago, but before that I’ve been drawing in some form for as long as I can remember. 9 year old me used to sit at the kitchen table for HOURS drawing Pokémon lol but I digress.

Anyway this brings me to my first and arguably most important tip: Practice. It sounds cliche but practicing really is the best way to see improvement in yourself. Take me for exampl (your question inspired me to look through my old journal). On the left is something I drew circa 2011, I would have been 15 years old (idk why I drew these magic creatures, or why I felt the need to label them all). It’s a pretty good example of how I drew throughout high school. In college I took 2 drawing classes (one a general drawing class and one specifically for fashion illustration) and that helped me improve a lot, as you can see in the right hand image.

A year after graduating, when I first began drawing digitally, my style and skill level was very similar to the above right image. But, after a year of drawing nearly every day, you can see significant improvement from how I drew when I started (left) vs. how I draw now (right).

So anyway, practice is a big deal.

I would also recommend experimenting with different mediums. Whether it be pencil, markers, digital, etc, trying different mediums is a fun way to figure out what you like and develop your own style. It can also be really helpful. In my own experience, sometimes if I’m having trouble drawing something on my tablet I find it easier to sketch it out on paper first and either copy it or take a photo and trace it.

That brings me to my next tip: Trace. This is is gonna be controversial with some artists but in my opinion tracing really is a great way to practice and learn. Tracing photos or existing drawings (quick reminder to never post tracings of other people’s art, posting tracings of photos is totally fine) is a great way to get a hang of the movements and shapes you need to draw. Eventually you’ll develop muscle memory and you won’t need to depend on tracing so much.

Speaking of muscle memory, always draw with your whole arm, not just your wrist. Your shoulder should move your pencil more than your wrist does. If you draw a lot this will save you physical pain and help prevent carpal tunnel.

If you’re drawing free hand, a good thing to remember is that any subject can be broken into simple shapes. For example, noses are a weird shape but they become easier if you think of them as 3 circles with 2 lines attached. You can do this with anything, you just have to get used to trying to find the smaller shapes within the things you see, which also gets easier with practice.

And remember reference images are your friends! The internet is full of images and tutorials to help you, use them! My current search history is 80% drawing related and they are a huge help. Heck, even if you can’t find the right reference image you can ask a friend or sibling to quickly pose for you while you snap a photo.

When drawing freehand sketching guidelines is a huge help. On paper you should do this lightly with pencil, or digitally you can use a separate layer. Seriously, if you’re drawing digitally the more layers the better. These guidelines can help you keep your proportions while you make your more detailed drawing on top. I like to sketch in a bright color and delete the layer afterwards.

While I’m on the subject, proportions make a huge difference in your drawing. Backing up and looking at your drawing from a distance is a great way to judge your proportions and composition, and then decide if you need to make changes or not. It’s also helpful to turn your drawing upside down. Something about this tricks your brain so any disproportionate parts become much more obvious and you can fix them.

Lastly, start with what you like. Drawing should above all be fun! For example, if you like drawing faces then start with faces. If drawing hands annoys you, there is nothing wrong with leaving them as blobs. After focusing on the things you like drawing, you’ll eventually gain more confidence and skills to attempt the harder things that aren’t as enjoyable.

I hope you found this helpful! Happy drawing ;)

#anon #my advice #my art #drawing tips #drawing for beginners #anon you dont know how flattered i am that you thought im good enough to actually give advice

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chubbydino · 4 years

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Hi! I finally gathered the courage to read concatenation (normally I don’t really read fics with unhappy endings) and I LOVED IT. I mean, it tore my heart out, threw it on the ground and stepped on it, but still. It made me feel so much, which is not something that a lot of stories are able to do. Just a question, I remember reading somewhere that you would maybe write a fix-it but I can’t find it anywhere, so was it just an idea or something you plan to do? Thanks!

hello! there was talk about a fix-it for it a few years ago, and i did start one, but i’ve since deleted it after only writing a few paragraphs. i couldn’t write a fix-it that did any justice to the story.

i did write an epilogue, tony’s letter, that you probably already read if you just read the series, just to kind of tie up tony’s thoughts on everything for people who wanted that. it was part of marvel trumps hate for 2016 i believe.

but yeah, no fix-it fi planned or published. i’m so happy you read the series though, and that it was worth it for you to have waited so long to read. :) it always makes me smile when i see someone new has left a comment or kudos or something. <3

i did find a little section of a fic i never published while i was looking for the epilogue i had started, so though it’s not a fix-it, it isn’t angsty (at least, not to me lol)! just some stony pining sass and quips.

below the cut!

Grey streaks of sunlight filtered through the missile-proof glass of the of an empty bedroom in the Avengers compound. Despite being unoccupied, the room was meticulously clean—the most unkempt part about it being the memory foam mattress on the floor, still wrapped in plastic. A low crackle of thunder echoed against the barren, muted-grey walls, and as the winds changed, the patter of rain against the glass could be heard from the doorway as Steve stood there, surveying.

The compound was much smaller than it appeared upon first glance. The living area was one of the biggest rooms, excluding the training facility that wasn’t attached to the compound itself. Steve was starting to see it as home, but it would take time. New faces were appearing faster than he could remember names, and he had a bit of trouble with that. So many of them were just kids. So many of them would be barely functioning human beings without powers, but here? It was impossible to expect them to meld perfectly. But they tried. Tony and Bruce spent hours designing things to be comfortable and accepting.

Steve just never anticipated himself being the one to feel out of place here. It wasn’t like it was that big of a surprise, but he’d just been so comfortable living at the SHIELD compound, then in the Tower. Upstate New York was a big jump from that.

“Captain,” Friday said, her voice coming in crystal clear as though she was standing right beside him. “Mr. Stark is able to see you now. Please make your way to the conference room, Sector Alpha.”

Despite being small on the first two floors, the compound had an extensive underground network that was large enough to warrant its own zip code.

“Thank you,” Steve said, glancing around the empty room once more. It would be filled within the month, he was sure. It was either a new superhuman, or a visiting one. The guest manifest was something of a joke nowadays.

Steve made his way down the hallways, eyes running over the photos hung on the walls. Various teammates with their arms slung around each other, laughing. Triumphant newspaper articles showing zero casualties and major victories. Graduations, awards—all kinds of things that made the compound feel more like a college campus than a house.

But the further along he went from the living quarters, the sleeker and more professional things became. Steve was more comfortable here, surrounded by expansive glass windows and minimalist metalwork. No photos, no art on the walls. Everything became sterile and transparent.

The windows to the conference room had already been tinted, effectively sealing the room from wandering eyes. Not that Steve had seen a soul since arriving, but it was barely five in the morning, so everyone was either asleep or training already.

The doors opened for him as he entered the conference room. An enormous oak table took up most of it, and several windows were actually seamless TV screens to watch something upwards of fifty channels at a time.

Tony sat with his back facing the main screens, sprawled in his chair, turning back and forth, back and forth. He fiddled at a tablet screen, two fingers curled at his mouth. He was working, but it was busywork. Steve knew the difference between a Tony in crisis and a Tony trying to distract himself. Either way, he didn’t acknowledge Steve’s arrival.

Steve took it all in stride, and rounded the table to take a seat beside Tony. He scooted back a bit, putting a healthy amount of space between them.

The sound of the rain didn’t reach them here. Natural light didn’t even reach them here. Everything was artificial and cold. A war room.

Steve leaned back in his chair, propping his head up with one hand. Silence ticked by, broken only by the quiet taps of Tony’s fingers on the glass of his tablet.

“You’re late,” Tony finally muttered, not looking up.

“Yeah,” Steve said, lifting his head from his hand in a casual motion. “I was looking around.”

Tony let out a snort. “I ought to clear out your room and give it to someone else, with how often you show up.”

“I’ve been busy,” Steve said quietly.

“Busy,” Tony repeated.

“Yeah.”

“Busy,” Tony said again.

With a final tap to his tablet, Tony tossed the piece of glass like a discarded magazine. It skittered across the table and settled a few inches from Steve. Steve glanced at it, expecting to see some sort of article or video, but it was blank.

“I wasn’t aware—“

“You can’t just leave me like that,” Tony growled. “In charge. You can’t just do that without warning me first.”

“Remind me to tell the mass murderers of the world to give me a heads up before they start killing people,” Steve replied easily, unfazed.

“That’s bullshit,” Tony shot back. Steve couldn’t see true anger in his eyes yet, though. “You’ve been stateside for three weeks. You can’t possibly think I didn’t know you’ve been stateside for three weeks—did you think I didn’t know?”

Steve blinked once. “I didn’t think you cared.”

Tony scowled at him, leaning forward in his chair. “What were you doing on your little vacation?”

Steve shrugged. “I had to clean my place out in Brooklyn. My lease was up a month ago and they held everything out of courtesy. I had to arrange to get it all shipped here.”

“Your storage unit,” Tony said tartly.

Steve frowned. “It arrived, didn’t it?”

“Of course it arrived. It arrived weeks ago.”

A shrug was all he could really muster in response. “Then I helped with cleanup for that Queens disaster—which I’m sure you saw on the news. After that I visited Bucky in Brooklyn for a few days, saw Sam on his leave weekend and helped out at the VA.”

Tony worked his jaw, and Steve cocked a brow at the flicker of anger he saw in his eyes now.

“You’re a real class act, Rogers,” Tony finally forced out. He stood abruptly, and Steve reflexively stood too.

“Hey, what’s going on? I didn’t warn you, I get it. I’m sorry. But I don’t always get a warning, Tony.”

He didn’t realize he’d reached out until Tony shrugged him off.

“Don’t,” Tony hissed. “Don’t start with that shit.”

Now Steve was genuinely confused. “Okay. Let’s—we can talk about this. Let’s talk about this. That’s what we’re here for, right?”

That response only served to piss Tony off all the more. “Oh please. Enough with that feelings crap, Steve. I’m done with all of that—I’ve been done since you—“

Steve hand came to rest on Tony’s cheek, effectively silencing whatever he’d been about to say. A warm understanding came to Steve’s eyes, and he moved closer, enough to feel Tony’s breath on his collarbone.

“You think I wasn’t thinking about you,” Steve said.

Tony jerked back, but Steve followed him, keeping close.

“Shut up,” Tony cut. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Sure. You’re just here to chastise me about my leadership.”

Tony slapped his hand away. Hard. Hard enough that Steve had to blink a few times to process, and that was enough time for Tony to snatch up his tablet and start toward the door.

“Welcome back, Cap. I’m getting some coffee, then you’re going to meet Vision, Natasha and I to bring you up to speed.”

He stormed toward the closer exit, and Steve thought momentarily to let him leave.

Of course, Steve Rogers never let anyone get the last word.

He jumped forward, cutting Tony off at the door and yanking him into a kiss.

He tasted like bourbon. Just a faint taste, like he’d sipped on some hours ago and hadn’t eaten anything since. Tony certainly hadn’t slept--judging by the bags under his eyes--so Steve knew better than to assume he’d fallen asleep with that taste in his mouth.

“You didn’t say anything,” Tony hissed when they broke apart. He gave Steve a frustrated shove.

“You said no favoritism.”

“Fuck you,” Tony spat. “That doesn’t mean you don’t show me some fucking decency.”

“Let me get coffee with you,” Steve murmured, hands settling at Tony’s waist.

Tony was quick to remove them. “No.”

“Tony,” he began, “Tones. Let me get you coffee.”

Tony just scowled at him. “I don’t know what I expected from you, if I’m being honest. I genuinely don’t. I don’t know what I expected. But I definitely didn’t expect you to treat me like a dick.”

A little flare of anger nibbled at Steve’s gut. “You laid the groundwork very clearly. You specifically told me you wanted no special treatment. You specifically told me you wanted this to be a working relationship. Professional—that was the word you used.”

“Because that’s what I want,” Tony cut. “But that doesn’t mean you ignore me!”

“I didn’t ignore you—“

“You didn’t so much as text me when you came back. I got a mission report five days later after two weeks of nothing.”

“If you were worried about me, you’re allowed to say it. Nobody’s here.”

“Fuck you.”

Tony tried to leave again, but Steve hooked him around the middle with one arm, blocking his path.

“We talk here or we talk over coffee,” Steve said evenly. “Those are the options. I don’t care which.”

“You don’t get to make those decisions. I’m heading the compound right now.” Tony chopped his arm with an elbow, and Steve relented. He slid away, and Tony shot him a glare. “I’ll see you when we meet with Nat and Vision. You know, our teammates? Red guy, weird looking? Girl, red hair? Short? Likes leather and spandex?”

“Tony—“

He didn’t get another word out before the door was closing and Tony was walking briskly toward the in-house coffee shop.

Steve watched him go, unsure of the sudden strain in his chest. What he and Tony did behind closed doors was nobody’s business, but apparently that special treatment he’d been so adamant about not receiving was something he’d actually wanted all along. This was something Bucky would laugh at him for, had Steve dared to break his promise not to tell. But he was pretty sure Bucky already knew anyway. The whole team knew, at least in some fashion.

With a heavy sigh, Steve stepped out and headed in the opposite direction, chewing the last of the bourbon taste from his bottom lip.

************

“There really isn’t much to report,” Natasha said, thumbing through digital pages of activity logs. “A few issues with telepathic powers, but Wanda and Vision handled that area. Combat training schedules are consistent, as is improvement.”

“T’Challa visited for several days and imparted some wisdom in a sort of ‘master class,’ if you will,” Vision added. “We saw a slight spike in improvement with several female students after his visit.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but Vision continued, oblivious to his innuendo.

“All in all, very few issues to report that concern you, Captain Rogers. A few technical malfunctions with our security system, an attempted trespass by a belligerent ‘fan’ of ours, and two incidents of misconduct—all of which were handled appropriately.”

Tony was staring at him through a stylish pair of glasses, but Steve ignored him. “Sounds like everything went smoothly.”

Natasha leaned back, only briefly glancing between him and Tony. “So, you’re back to stay with us for a little while?”

“For now, yes,” Steve said with a nod. “I figure I ought to help out since I left so abruptly.”

Tony let out an indignant snort.

“Really, we need to get our advanced hand-to-hand classes back on track,” Natasha said. “I’ve been able to handle it, but I can only teach so many classes before fatigue sets in. If I’m called on mission, I don’t want to be worn down.”

“I don’t need the explanation,” Steve chuckled. “I’ll handle those, and I’ll start back in with the combat strategy too, if that’s okay.”

“You’re the best one for it,” Natasha replied with a shrug. She stood, gently tapping Vision on the shoulder. “Well, we’ll leave the two masterminds to discuss. As far as I’m concerned, this meeting is over.”

“Thank you for the update,” Steve said with a dip of his head. “I appreciate it.”

Natasha grabbed her bag and left, nearly closing the door in Vision’s face, but he passed right through it amyway. There was light music playing in the background, coming from the wet bar over in the far corner. Steve thought to ask if Tony wanted a drink, but he knew better.

“I wanted to apologize,” Steve said after an unsteady silence had lengthened between them.

Tony said nothing. He turned his face away, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I should have contacted you. The reason I didn’t was because I didn’t know where we stood. Last time we talked, you made it very clear that you didn’t want any special treatment—hell, that you didn’t even want me to talk to you outside of ‘business hours.’ So how was I supposed to guess that you wanted me to text you?”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, but still wouldn’t look at him.

Steve had to fight every urge to keep pressing, but he held his tongue and leaned back instead, at a loss. Their relationship was complicated at best, and moments like theses made it even worse for them.

“Pick one word and tell me how you would describe what I mean to you,” Tony said, eyes still closed. “I want you to pick one word.”

Steve frowned, but began to rake his brain for the proper word. Surprisingly enough, a blank nothing came to mind. He could think of no word to describe Tony Stark. None that would accurately fit. Friend, confidant, partner. He trusted Tony more than anyone on Earth. More than Bucky at this point. Bucky was still too unpredictable in some instances.

“Everything,” Steve said decidedly.

Tony finally looked up at him, momentarily shocked. It quickly faded to anger, though.

“Well. Some way to show it,” he snorted.

“What do I mean to you?” Steve pressed, unaffected by Tony’s quip.

Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he’d just discovered he’d been tricked

“Well?”

For a moment Steve thought that Tony wouldn’t respond. Instead, Tony let out a sigh. “I think we need to discuss what happens when one of us goes off on mission.”

Steve’s lips pursed, not allowing himself to show the hurt sucking a hole in his chest. That was how it went with Tony Stark. One minute he was snapping about being too public, the next he was chastising Steve for not showing him enough affection.

If he hadn’t been to infuriatingly handsome, Steve might’ve had a chance.

#steve/tony #stony #stony ficlet #tony stark #steve rogers

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ra-meat · 4 years

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Posted oct 31, 2020

Here's my clown inspired art project, I'm definitely in a sort of clown loving phase right now in my life.

My (currently unfinished) art peice that was due oct 30 2020 (yesterday) that I put an instagram filter over cuz I think it looks cool, I've gotten more done sense this was taken but I still love this pic

I might post an unfiltered pic later once I finish eventually, my art has improved drastically sense I first started my blog and then completely forgot about it for a while. My first art on here was my 2019 inktober day one, and considering I've almost finished my 2020 inktober (despite it being y'know, the 31st) it's safe to say I've improved at least a little.

I'm always trying to become better so if ya wouldn't mind helping out a teen artist constructive criticism is always welcome!! (The criticism is best when it's actually things I can fix, not giving my tips on the sketch when I've already inked and things like that)

I'm also trying to start digital but I suck ass at it rn and my drawing tablet is broken so I can't really practice much on my preferred software ಥ‿ಥ

I post more on instagram,

https://instagram.com/ra_meat_?igshid=psmc21fuzvof

In case the link doesn't work my username rn is Ra_meat_ on insta and twitter

#clowncore #art #artists on tumblr #traditional art #ink art #help-this-is-already-a-day-overdue-and-im-gonna-fail #glitch #glitchcore #young artist

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years

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Devil’s No. 1 (6)

Chapter 6: The Devil Wears Nada

Loki x fem!Reader, Bucky x fem!Reader

Theme: The definitions of devils, angels, demons etc. are twisted here in this world. But some things remain the same.

Series: Will contain violence, death, destruction, softness, fluff, smut, everything that my mind can conjure, really.

Chapter warnings: None. a demon.

A/N: This was written two years ago (I think) on @phantomrose96 ‘s prompt/situation of a shy girl summoning the devil to be friends with him (and something else that he does but I’ll leave that part out for you guys to have fun with). But I- being thirsty for tragedies- twisted things a little.

Word Count: It’s 5 am. The sugar rush has receded. My eyes are paining but my heart is happy.

MASTERLIST in bio, love. Tags are open

art credit: @russian-hiddlestoner

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I uh...I'm going...with you?"

The silence lingering in your apartment was chilly at best. In between the mess that was strewn around you- both inside and out- and your life in the hands of the Devil himself, it seemed sane to go with him to find Peter.

But to Loki, who watched your arms crossing your chest, your fingers digging into the skin while your eyes looking everywhere but at him, your body wasn't really ready.

He loved taking his sweet time to see the most minute chill you felt wherever his icy gaze landed.

My oh my!

He had never seen someone be so delicately sensitive to his gaze. That too in a good way.

You, on the other hand, were trying your best not let your heart give out for there was a chance that you might see those eyes again and be trapped in them forever. Not in a good way.

"Oh, Y/N, pet," his voice came as the wind-chime in a thunderstorm, sweet and ominous simultaneously, "you are not going anywhere with me. I will be bringing the boy back while you sit here and think of how not to disappoint yourself and your new best friend."

"...okay. Sir. Loki. Listen, please. I want to go with you because I have to."

"Don't you trust me?"

Your brows wanted to reach the sky along with the silence that came out with your interrupted lungful of breath.

Is he really asking me that?

"Relax, little one. I will deliver that boy to you. He is part of the deal after all."

"Yeah, that's the thing. I know you will deliver him but I have to be there because he is my responsibility. In many ways. So...please, mi-ahem-Loki, let me go with you."

The essence of complete fear stank around you and to Loki's amusement you still wanted to ride with the devil.

"I'm not taking you with me looking like that," he spewed in your direction without so much as breaking his elegance.

You looked at yourself in mild confusion. "But...I just had a bath."

A low groan of disapproval left Loki's throat as whatever ounce of confidence that you had gathered slowly faded away right where it had originated from- in the hollow darkness around you.

"Wait here, I'll comb my hair and...put some perfume on," you muttered.

Your feet tried to find the floor on your way to the room while Loki watched your back, his suspiciously glistening greens never leaving you.

"Minnerva," he called out to the thin air.

"Yes, Sire," her grave voice came from behind his right shoulder.

"Give me Y/N's file."

He hadn't even said the f-word when Minnerva was producing her tablet forward to show him your history while you tried to find something to wear.

"And take some medication while you're at it," he raised his voice just a smidge, the honey-laden grace never leaving his throat, "I don't want you puking your guts out on me."

Loki looked down at the tablet, his expressions a complete blank turning to slight twitch of amusement in his brows before a smirk found its way on his lips.

"Well, I'll be damned," he whispered.

"You already are, sire," Minnerva quipped.

"Right, my pet? This is one quite absurdly unique human who has found me."

"How so?"

"Remember the human form of tides we talked about that we cursed creatures ride on."

"Distinctly."

"She's experiencing one. And looks like I am about to surf right in time for a raging tsunami," he smirked.

The click of the door sounded and Loki's nostrils flared at an aroma he was too familiar with.

"Mmm," he moaned, his eyes closing to let the scent linger inside his head before he had to see the dull humanity again, "Bvlgari."

You scratched an itch on your neck before nodding and giving a muted 'yes'.

"It was a gift," you cleared your throat before picking up your jacket. "Right. So...where are we going?"

Loki watched your jacket, his eyes coming to linger on your face before he sighed and looked around the space, his jaw doing a twist while his hands came to rest in his pant pockets.

"Y/N. Darling," he tried- he really did- to slowly breathe out your name, "we are not going to be scouring your dump of a city. We will be going straight to the boy."

He found the tiny grooves between your confused brows quite amusing- not to mention hilarious.

"I know."

This tiny concrete piece of confidence in your voice pinched him for some reason and one could see him lock his jaw hard right on that exquisite face before releasing it.

"Fine," he concluded, "come closer then, sweet one. Hand me a property of that boy."

Putting on your jacket you took out a piece of folded paper from inside one of your pockets before placing it in those big pale hands, subconsciously getting a touch of that cold skin.

"My my," Loki commented flatly as he unfolded the paper to look at the stick figures Peter had drawn, "putting Van Gogh to shame."

One of them quite closely resembled Elsa from Frozen.

"Could you please concentrate, and let it g-"

Your head registered Loki smiling as he watched you.

"Let it what?"

He knew!

"Nevermind."

Before you could say something more, Loki's hands were already on your hips snaking their way to your back from beneath the open jacket. All the heat that had been gathering inside you, you could feel it being siphoned off by him as he pulled you close to him- too close. You could see every little groove on his face, every mole over his neck, even those peeping from beneath the collar of that crisp black shirt. You could even smell him.

And he smelled something like a forest in snow would- cold, still, crisp, dormant, hibernating, an animal resting, a chilly breeze carrying the scent of the frozen lake and pine trees.

He was everything that death was supposed to be.

And yet was alive within with something inhuman underneath.

Is that what it was like to be the devil?

"Let's find out," his lips gently whispered close to your ears, brushing against every little hair on over your forehead "shall we?"

"Come on. We haven't got all day," Loki announced as he fixed his collar and straightened his cuff.

You, on the other hand, were on your hands and knees, trying to make sense of the blur before toppling over and coming to rest on your back.

The room spun a bit more till it finally came to a standstill.

"I'm fine," you tried to speak through panicked breaths, "I'm fine."

He was right, you thought to yourself, I should have taken something for the... travelling sickness.

While you tried to get up, Loki looked at the paper in his hand before putting it in his inner pocket.

"So much for building a snowman," he muttered to himself, looking straight ahead.

The structure around them looked like a mansion or boarding house out of time, with wooden boards and stairs broken, windows shattered or missing, wild grass growing everywhere. The doors were off their hinges while some vulgar graffiti soiled one of the walls.

"Are we-"

"In the right place."

You could only see one side of his face but this half determined, half thrilled look made you feel like he knew something you didn't. And that was one of the reasons your head wasn't the only thing thumping.

"I can smell the blood and torture here," he commented, quite pleased with himself.

The cracked portraits you passed carried a haunting impression that made you walk faster and lot closer to the devil than you wanted to.

"Pop quiz for you, Y/N," Loki chimed out of nowhere taking up a bit of dust from the frames around him, "what does an animal do when they realise they have done something their master won't like."

He breathed in the air and made what your friends would have called his orgy-face- the same thing you did when you smelled a good old book.

You knew you could not question his insanity so you did what you were told.

"Umm, dogs tend to hide in their comfort spots. Usually in a corner where they think they won't be found. Or a spot they think their parents won't find out about."

You heard a low chuckle from the figure walking in front of you.

Now that does not sound right.

"Winner winner-"

One moment you had been standing right in the hall of the remnants of the huge house while in the next you were walking two floors above into a space that looked like a dining hall minus the luxury of chairs and a banquet.

"-demon dinner," Loki growled as the wall in front of both of you exploded, taking one of you by utter surprise.

A creature in seemingly solid form with slime and scales everywhere on its body and a jaw that opened so wide to scream its existence out that you thought it was off its hinges. Eyes as black as the purest coal bore into Loki while the saliva dripped from its fangs. The incoherent screams felt like they would rip through you any moment.

But Loki stood there unbothered. In fact, he seemed quite satisfied with the unbearable pain that had started surrounding you.

And then it all made sense.

"Loki!" You tried to shout over the screeches of that beast, "stop torturing him!"

"What?" Loki turned to you blankly, and the shrieks died. "I thought you wanted an outing with your new friend."

For fuck's sake...

You turned towards the demon who kept uttering something in a language foreign to you. "Where's the boy?"

The demon looked at you for the first time, and within an instant, sprang towards you with its jaws wide open with every intent devour your bones.

And like an unspoken underlying instinct, you jumped and grabbed Loki's arm, hiding behind him.

Loki didn't move. He did not have to.

"Step within ten feet of her and the only thing you would be seeing is the hellfire I created from the souls you tortured."

His entire being stood between you and the demon, his eyes brought the blood-curdling scream to a whimper, his words reduced the beast to a crying lost cub looking for something to hide underneath.

"What are you waiting for? Answer her," he commanded without any effort, forcing the creature to look between the two of you in confusion before it pointed to the unbroken part of the wall it had exploded through, where a pile of old furniture lay.

"Peter?" Your aching larynx called out for the boy as you stepped forward and walked towards the pile, keeping yourself as far away from the demon as possible, never realising the demon was trying to do the same.

You could already see a pale hand in between the pile from three steps away, forcing a curse out of your mouth and sending you into a scare to quickly move everything away before you could finally reach him and grab his limp body out.

"Peter," you tried to speak through the breathlessness you were currently experiencing, "oh God! Peter!"

You checked for his breathing and his pulse.

"He's fine," your declared, teary-eyed, to Loki.

Why you did that, you do not know.

Picking up the unconscious boy, you carefully adjusted his head on your shoulder before hurrying back to Loki's side.

"One rule, Icarus." Loki's voice echoed through the dilapidated walls and hollow foundations.

You had no idea how he was doing it. He wasn't shouting, nor screaming. But the ice in his calm voice asserted the right amount of pressure you didn't want it to be.

"One. Rule."

Your hands wrapped themselves around Peter's waist, securing him in your hold as you took a step back from the one entity in the room radiating overwhelming gelidity.

"No children."

Icarus, the demon, grunted and muttered something under his breath, never once having the balls to look right into Loki's eyes.

"Hmm?" Loki tilted his head a bit, turning his ear less than an inch towards the demon. "What was that? What did you just spew, you worthless pile of mud-goblin?"

Icarus blinked and moved back a little. You could sense that beast had hit a wrong nerve.

Icarus said something, this time loud and clear.

Loki turned to you, his eyes swirling with tiredness.

Now that was something new.

"The audacity of this bitch," he stated before snapping his fingers.

A flat line of noise originating from somewhere far away seemed to get closer with every passing second, making Icarus wriggle in fear where he stood.

It cried in its incoherent language some more.

"Oh, I'll leave the judgement to those hungry bastards, demon," Loki concluded with a smile that never reached his eyes.

Shrieks filled the room and you could feel the pressure on your back increase five folds.

Something really worse had entered the space and it was affecting you apart from making that demon run for a corner to hide in.

With Peter's weight on your shoulders, you felt nauseous, chilling sweats running down everywhere throughout your body while your legs gave away to make you fall into something...soft.

"You might want to close your eyes, sweet one," Loki spoke softly as he brought you back on your legs, the pressure upon you receding for some reason.

You did as you were told. But not before you buried Peter's head in your chest and put one hand around his ear.

Icarus' lungs burst with the the cries that would have woken up the dead before all went silent.

"Baymax was really underrated."

You open your eyes and find yourself in a room with posters of Baymax, Inside Out, The Emperor's New Groove, and Lilo & Stitch.

On a study table by the window were figurines of Naruto, Sasuke, and Orochimaru.

You carefully laid Peter down on his bed, making sure he wasn't hurt anywhere.

"This kid could've done better," Loki commented as he tipped Sasuke's figurine and let it fall down with a clatter, grabbing all your heightened- and definitely tired- senses.

"Could you-" you nearly shouted before composing yourself and turning down into a whisper- "please shush it. There are other...humans here."

"Relax, they can't hear us," Loki groaned, tipping Orochimaru this time.

You were tucking Peter under his quilt when you felt a soft cold blow tickle your ear.

"And don't you. Shush me. Ever again."

The whisper right inside your ear coiled up all parts of you as his lips ever so lightly brushed right at the edge of you.

Your hands went by the side of the bed to look for support as you tried to get away from the devil while he smiled at the way he was playing your chords. The music he was producing seemed to please him.

"Y/N," a familiar voice called for you.

You turned to look at a conscious Peter looking at you with every bit of emotion through his eyes.

You turned to look at Loki but he was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm here, Pete," you whispered before laying a hand on his forehead. "Are you okay?"

He nodded.

"That demon-"

"Won't hurt you anymore. I promise you," you assured him, stroking his hair.

"That man with you," Peter gulped, "he saved me. He's an angel, isn't he?"

You pressed your lips- not knowing what to tell him- before planting a kiss on his head.

"You've been through too much. Get some sleep, hon. We'll talk in the morning, okay?"

Peter slumped into his pillow and closed his eyes while you softly patted him to sleep.

"Loki?" You whispered through the empty corridor of the house.

There was no sign of him whatsoever. No sounds except for the clock's ticking and the snores coming from the master bedroom.

"Loki?" You called out again.

Nada.

"Oh, Loki!" You moaned in frustration, feeling an icy chill go right through your spine.

Oh n-

"Keep calling my name like that, kitten, and we'll be best friends with some really worthy benefits."

"Wh-"

You wanted to be disgusted by it but you were already being sucked through space back to your apartment and only had enough energy to keep yourself from throwing up as you landed back right where you'd vanished from.

"They were sleeping."

Loki sighed as twisted two fingers and the shot glass filled with the Jäger you two had left behind.

"That's what humans usually do, Y/N." He sat down on the sofa in your living room and downed the shot.

"No, Loki," you sat down next to him, "they were sleeping when their son was missing!"

Lokis swallowed another shot and raised a finger.

"Adopted son."

"What?"

"Didn't you know?"

"...no."

"He has a blood relative. An aunt that lives in New York."

"...oh."

You wanted to ask him how he knew that but thought it was better to keep your mouth shut and not land yourself into something you could have easily avoided.

Plopping down into the sofa you relaxed a bit, feeling some part of you feel a little light.

"For second today, I thought his father...his adoptive father would explode at me by the way he..."

Your hand moved on its own to caress the throbbing part of your arm where he'd held you so carelessly.

Loki glanced at your arm before trying to sit back in his chair, moving around a bit, trying to find the source of his discomfort before his hands found it and took out a plushie of a cat.

He looked at the stuffed toy with pure judgement before placing it on the sofa's arm on his side and placed the bottle of liquor between the toy's limbs.

Loki took your empty shot glass and the two seconds it took for it to come to you, it was filled with Jäger.

"Relax your nerves, kitten."

The smooth herby liquid went right down your throat and the swirl came a bit later when you were already three shots down. The beauty of Jäger.

"Why did Icarus betray you?"

Loki breathed in and opened his mouth to speak.

"Oh, Icarus! Now I remember where I've heard this name. Icarus and the sun! Huh!"

Loki's brow judged you with everything it had while his lips basked in your drunken state.

"He didn't seem like the type who'd go and betray you, though. I mean he looked like a two-year-old on a sugar rush, really. Like a child angry at his parent for not getting him something he saw at the store."

"Yeah, I told him not to hunt children once before too-" Loki turned towards you and rested his head on his curled hand over the sofa headrest, looking at you, "-but that was thousands of years ago."

"Then someone else must have shown him the store."

You gulped down another shot.

"Minnerva's really cute, though," you spoke to yourself. At least that's what you thought.

"Something tells me you get quite interesting once you get drunk."

The sixth shot was swirling around in your mouth when your head turned to look at Loki and your index finger went up in a 'first-of-all'.

"I'm drinking to forget all the things you've'n saying and doing to me all night. I'm also drinking to forget the things you would be saying or doing to me later tonight. Capice? And, we still have work to do."

The glow that had come over Loki's face disappeared.

"No wonder you haven't had sex in a long while."

You gasped.

"Excuse me!" You sat up straight, turning towards him, forgetting who it was you were squaring up against, "Just because I am drunk does not mean I will hook up with anyone! Especially you!"

It was Loki's turn to be offended.

"First of all," he began, "donot for a single moment forget you are talking to the devil, you minx. I am unbelievable in bed. I can make you feel all nerves of the entire universe and its galactic charm in fifteen minutes and it will be so apocalyptic that every neuron in your body will remember that sensation; so will the elemental foundations of your soul even when you ascend into a higher dimension."

You gulped, blinked and put your leg above the other.

"And second of all, even when you should loosen up and drink, you do not stop being a professional. Even the devil has some standards, human! I look forward to foreplay and pleasure, not some sloppy drunken sex that feels like work."

You did not know what to say.

I cannot believe the devil is better than so many men I've met.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling weird yet not that uncomfortable apologising to the devil.

The shot glass went back on the table.

"Business first then," he clasped his hands together. "Let's suck that life-threatening force from inside you."

You looked at him, appalled for a second.

"I-uh...I didn't....how did you know?"

Your gut was still not used to the smirk on his lips.

"I'm the devil, darling. If I cannot smell the ever so pungent darkness that dims the everbright soul then who am I, really?"

Your throat let out a hum while your head nodded.

"How long?" He asked.

"It's been three months," you responded while playing with your shot glass.

"And," you continued, the raised momentum in your voice catching Loki off guard, "I've already sold my soul to you so why not just live the last five days of my life with less pain and whatever it is that is killing me from the inside."

Loki eyed you, studying the emotions hidden in plain sight in your eyes.

"You do realise I will be inside you if you want me to untether whatever it is that is sucking the life out of you?"

You played the words that just came out of his mouth in your head and narrowed your eyes at him.

"Puns fully intended," he teased.

"Please. Don't," you pleaded. "Just do whatever you have to do to get this heaviness off me. And while you're insid-possessing me, please don't do anything I wouldn't do. I beg you."

"Oh! How lovely. That leaves me with so many choices." The sarcasm dripped in this one.

Putting your leg up on the sofa you straightened your back as much as you could.

"Okay, let's get on with it, then."

Loki chuckled.

"For someone who has studied about me, you sure seem to forget that I cannot just enter you, pet. I need you to give me your consent."

He moved the unruly strands of your hair away from your face, making your feel some shivers you had not felt in a very long time.

"You need to say yes."

"Yes?"

"And you need to seal your consent."

All you could do was blink at those smaragdines that were staring right into your soul, as cold fingers pulled up your chin.

"What do you want to say?" He asked gently.

"Yes," you exhaled with a relieving ache.

His thumb rubbed that edge of your jaw, his eyes taking off your soul's layers.

"Go ahead then," his command sounded more like the minstrel's song in the spring.

And you did go ahead, letting your lips meet his, feeling those cold supple ones with your heated throbs.

Your eyes closed as you felt yourself drawn into his icy touch, letting your lips chase his more; the urge to taste him growing with every second before you felt complete darkness and your bodies went limp over the sofa, seeming like they were in deep slumber.

The radio in your kitchen tuned on and started playing Ann Margaret's What Am I Supposed To Do; the music relatively slow and eerie to the taste of the apartment with no one but the inanimate objects and two lifeless bodies to hear it.

A few moments later the window in the living room opened, giving way to a strong gust of wind that knocked the dead bamboo plant from over the fridge, and as it went down, a magnet on the fridge door stuck to its side.

The glass bowl that the bamboo had rested in for so long shattered and the muddy, worm-infested water spilt over the kitchen floor.

The magnet, that was an angel, lay there between the water and broken glass.

Just as Ann sang her last verse, an echo reverberated through the air before sending a cosmic pulse from the centre of the radio as one powerful ripple throughout the apartment.

The song finished, the radio died and the cold silence came back again.

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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years

Text

And Feel No Pain

Summary: No one trusts Crockett. (Little Sparrow 2/2)

WC: ~1.6k

Warnings: Overdose, implied suicidal behavior

Ethan carries Crockett into the ED. Just driving him was faster than waiting for an ambulance, and he’s heavy but peaceful. Peaceful, but dead to the world. He reeks of bourbon, probably from the empty bottle Ethan had to pry out of his hand, and he has no idea what else he took because his pulse is weak, thready, and there was a whole pharmacy in his medicine cabinet. How did no one notice this? It’s clearly not a new problem.

“Maggie,” he calls. She directs him to a room to set Crockett in, because at this moment he’s Crockett and not Dr. Marcel. And his heartbeat is so slow, so weak. His breathing shallow. Ethan wants to run a tox screen, but first he needs to find out if Crockett’s about to die. He’s dealt with so many overdoses, but they’ve never been someone he knows personally, he sees so regularly, he cares about more than he’d like to admit.

Crockett’s hooked up to the monitors, and Ethan has to think, think. Anything Crockett took, it was orally. Pills and liquor. They’re going to need to pump his stomach, get an IV into him. His breathing, Ethan needs to check on his breathing. There’s so much to do and he can’t figure out where to start. He’s overwhelmed and now he can’t breathe either because Crockett is here, out cold, sick. He overdosed.

The worst thing Ethan can think of is that this was on purpose. All day, people have been trying to get ahold of him- Ethan included- with no luck until he literally broke down his door out of this exact fear. That Crockett hurt himself.

Thank God for nurses, he decides, who put Crockett on the monitors and get a needle into his arm. Two way port, to draw or give. They’re calmer than him now. He forces himself to take a deep breath and pulls up his tablet to jot down what they’re doing.

“Run a tox screen,” he says. “I want his BAC and to find out what was in his system. He had a lot of pills in his apartment.”

“You brought him in?” Monique asks. She’s already drawing Crockett’s blood, red and thick.

Ethan nods. “He wasn’t answering his phone, I was worried. He took a lot of something.”

It’s hard to forget everything Ethan saw in that apartment. The bathroom was full of pills. Some prescribed to him from definitely not-current dates. There were two sandwich baggies of loose pills. And there was the empty bottle of liquor in the living room, the second one in Crockett’s arms. Pumping his stomach will probably help. Ethan throws in that order too, but before any real progress is made, Crockett’s eyes open slowly. Blink shut again.

“Crockett,” Ethan says, a little more desperately than he means to. He pulls out his pen light. “Crockett, can you hear me? Open your eyes if you can hear me.”

They open just a little, just enough for them to squint shut again when Ethan shines the light into them.

“C’mon, Crockett, open your eyes. Let me see you.”

This time, he doesn’t respond, and Ethan has to pull his eyes open to check for response. His pupils are dilated, but they do contract a little with the light, which is a good sign. He needs to take a deep breath.

“Is he conscious?”

Ethan taps his palm lightly against Crockett’s cheek a couple times. Nothing. “Not anymore. We just had him for a moment. Can you get me a mask for him? I don’t like the looks of his blood oxygen.”

She gives him one, and as she hooks it up to an oxygen tank, Ethan slips his hand underneath Crockett’s head and lifts it ever so gently to fix the mask properly. Crockett’s got a shadow along his jaw, sharp and prickly, that scratches Ethan’s hand. His skin is hot to the touch.

“When you get a chance, hang some saline? He’s probably dehydrated.” Ethan doesn’t know why he’s still touching Crockett’s face. “I’m going to check in on my other patients. Let me know when his labs come back.”

He checks in on his other patients, but he can’t stop thinking about Crockett, glancing back at him and the way he lays there, so still. So quiet. In life, he’s always moving. Usually talking. But now he’s empty, and Ethan’s got a sinking feeling that Crockett isn’t going to wake back up from this. Not fully. His heartbeat is stronger, his stats improving, but he hasn’t made a movement since his eyes were briefly open. Ethan watches him during his loops and, in a moment of downtime, pulls a seat up at Crockett’s bedside and just watches him. Holds the hand not burdened with an IV. Watches his chest shudder up and down. He’s not dead, but he feels dead.

“What are you doing to yourself, Marcel?” he whispers.

Crockett doesn’t so much as twitch.

Ethan reaches up to push Crockett’s hair out of his face. It’s greasy, unwashed. Crockett wasn’t taking care of himself, was hurting himself. The lights are on but no one’s home, and Ethan wonders again what this means for Crockett. He may die. He could die, and Ethan doesn’t know what to do with that information. It doesn’t sink in. He can’t process the idea of sitting here and watching Crockett’s body give up on him. If only he would just wake up.

As soon as he thinks of that, like there’s a higher power listening, Crockett’s eyes open and he starts fumbling at his oxygen mask.

“Hey, it’s okay-”

He tries to still Crockett’s hands, but Crockett doesn’t calm down. It isn’t long before Ethan figures out why. The oxygen mask still on, he throws up, and then Ethan is the one pulling it off of him so he doesn’t choke. In movies, in media, drug abuse and overdose are pretty and they’re peaceful. Drifting away without pain. Sometimes accidental, sometimes intentionally. This is not poetic art, but something nasty and twisted and painful.

“Okay, okay,” Ethan says, rubbing Crockett’s back as he coughs weekly. “You’re okay. I’ll get you some clean sheets and a new gown, you’re okay.”

He meets Crockett’s eyes and it’s heartbreaking. He’s crying, and struggling to breathe again, and covered in his own vomit. There’s so much to be said, none of which makes it out of Ethan’s mouth because this just hurts. He’s never in his life seen someone so broken down. He does the only thing he can think of, and pulls back to force himself into the role of a doctor again. It’s easier to be a doctor.

“Can you tell me what it is you took?”

His voice is so stiff. It’s barely his own, and the way Crockett looks at him makes him feel like a monster, so much so that he can’t manage eye contact. Instead, he stares down at his tablet with the account of what they’ve already done, what they already know.

“You know you could have died.”

“Yeah,” Crockett croaks, and lets his head fall back hard against the pillow. He’s in bad shape. “I’m gonna sleep a little longer.”

Ethan starts to tell him no, but it’s too late. Crockett’s asleep again, and Ethan would rub his eyes but he still has Crockett’s vomit on his hands. He steps over to the sink and washes them for longer than necessary, trying to do something useful that doesn’t make him hate himself.

Just his luck, Curry is on her way by. Cleaning up that mess is a med student’s job. Even if it wasn’t, Ethan just can’t look at Crockett anymore right now. “Grab Doris for help and clean up the patient in six. He threw up on himself and passed out.”

He can’t bring himself to tell her who’s in there. She’ll know, though, once she sees. Everyone will see that Crockett was falling apart in front of them, and not a single person noticed just how badly he was doing. It took this to see his pain.

Ethan busies himself until Crockett wakes up again, now in a clean gown and not trying to take off his oxygen mask so he can throw up. It’s a good time to check in on him again, decide if he should put up another bag of saline. He does, however, bring a cup of water with a straw because Crockett’s mouth must be so dry.

When he approaches again, the cup held out like a peace offering. Crockett takes it in a shaky hand and maneuvers the straw under his mask while he drinks it fast. It’s empty almost immediately. Ethan takes it away and he doesn’t have the words for a situation like this. No one does. There’s no way to explain how he’s feeling right now or how sorry he is for not realizing this sooner.

“When he has the chance, Dr. Charles is going to stop by,” Ethan says.

Crockett rolls his eyes. It’s a good sign, that he’s feeling alright enough to be an asshole. But it doesn’t negate what just happened, and so Ethan does a quick check-in to make sure he’s alright. Temperature is a little elevated, but nothing to be concerned about. His eyes can track movement, and his pupils are responsive to light. He can move all his fingers and toes. He doesn’t say a word to Ethan, just follows instructions, until the quick exam is over. Then, softly, he asks:

“Will you turn off the light when you go?”

Of course Ethan does, and he draws the curtains too. Out of sight, but not out of mind. For the rest of the shift, even after Dr. Charles’ evaluation and a visit from Lanik and Goodwin and Ethan forcing himself to stay away, he wonders if this was on purpose. He wonders what happens next if it was.

#charcel #crockett marcel #ethan choi #mine #fic #lsfic

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cottagethings · 4 years

Text

self-quarantine activities

1. Complete a puzzle: The more pieces the better! Feeling extra saucy? Take on a Rubik's Cube. More of a word person? Crossword puzzle!

2. Start a journal or blog. Sure, it can be about the coronavirus, but it could also be about a specific interest from chess to cheese.

3. If it won't bother your neighbors: Dust off that old instrument and practice.

4. Text all your exes just in case you have one more thing you wanted to get off your chest.

5. Write poetry. Perhaps you can craft a haiku for Mother's Day, or something without a specific structure. Just try it!

6. Watch all the really long movies you’ve avoided until now.

7. Download Duolingo, or a similar app, and teach yourself a foreign language.

8. Finally read “Infinite Jest,” “Les Miserables” or even “The Stand.” Go all in and read “Ulysses.” You got this.

9. Meditate. Try lying down with your eyes closed, palms up and while focusing on your breath. Or spend 20 minutes sitting crosslegged and repeat a soothing word to yourself in your head. (The latter is more like transcendental meditation.)

10. Face masks, moisturizer, oh my! Treat yourself to a 10-step skin care routine you don’t have time for during a normal work week.

11. Look at pictures of puppies.

12. Put together the most attractive charcuterie board possible, but you can only use foods you already have in your fridge and cupboard.

13. Take note from "Tangled" star Rapunzel, who has an entire song about how she's spent her days alone in a castle. Activities included in her ditty: Ventriloquy, candle-making, papier-mâché and adding a new painting to her gallery.

14. Write actual letters to family and friends. After that? Write thank-you notes to service people who you remember went out of their way for you.

15. Learn calligraphy. YouTube can help.

16. Finally read the rules to those long and intense board games you've never played with the family. Encourage the family to play.

17. Put on a soap opera. Mute the sound. Create your own dialogue.

18. Have a space in your home where all of the tupperware goes? Organize it and actually match lids to containers.

19. Try on all your clothes and determine whether they “spark joy” á la Marie Kondo.

20. Better yet, go through this process with your junk drawer and supply shelves.

21. Have a roommate meeting about how to be more considerate of one other, especially while you will likely be spending more time together. Bring baked goods.

22. Bake those goods.

23. Watch the films that won Oscars for best picture.

24. Watch films that won Independent Spirit Awards for best picture.

25. Watch films that critics say should have won those aforementioned awards.

26. Read all the New Yorker issues piled on your desk.

27. Will Tom Hanks into recovery from coronavirus by watching every Tom Hanks movie chronologically.

28. Knit or crochet.

29. Use Skype, FaceTime, Google Hangouts or Marco Polo to video chat with your long-distance friends.

30. Try out at-home aerobics or yoga videos. Consider downloading a fitness app with curated workout playlists.

31. Look at yourself in the mirror. Attempt a self portrait with pencil and paper.

32. Take a bubble bath (bonus: Add a glass of wine).

33. Make a classic cocktail, from negronis to Manhattans and aperol spritzes. Don't forget the garnish.

34. Coloring books: They’re not just for kids.

35. Take time to reflect: What have you accomplished in the last year? What goals are you setting for yourself in the next year?

36. Write a short story or get started on that novel.

37. Actually try to reproduce something you see on Pinterest. Probably fail. Try again.

38. Clear out the family room and camp indoors with all blankets, popcorn and scary movies.

39. Finally get around to fixing that broken door knob and loose tile or cleaning scuffed up walls.

40. Acquire a foam roller and treat yourself to some physical therapy.

41. Pretend you're 13 years old and fold a square piece of paper into a fortune teller you put your thumbs and pointer fingers into. Proceed to tell fortunes.

42. Learn how to braid (fishtail, French, etc.) via YouTube tutorial..

43. Throw out all your too-old makeup and products. (Tip: most liquid products have a small symbol on them noting expirations, usually six months to a year. This includes sunscreen!)

44. Interview your grandparents (over the phone, of course) and save the audio. Can you create an audio story or book with that file?

45. Go through your camera roll, pick your favorite pics from the past year and make a photo book or order framed versions online.

46. Go on a health kick and learn how to cook new recipes with ingredients you may not be using already, from miso to tahini.

47. Create a Google document of shows or movies you’re watching and share it among family and friends.

48. Make a list of things for which you are grateful.

49. Have your own wine tasting of whatever bottles you have at home. Make up stories about the journey of the grapes to your mouth.

50. Work on your financial planning, such as exploring whether to refinance your loan or ways to save more money.

51. Perfect grandma’s bolognese recipe.

52. Make coffee, but this time study how many beans you use, which types, how hot the water is, how long it brews and whether any of that makes a difference.

53. Buy gift cards from your favorite local businesses to help keep them in business while we quarantine.

54. Watch “Frozen 2,’ which went up early on Disney Plus. Another new movie on the streaming service: "Stargirl."

55. Write a book with your family. Pick a character and each member writes a chapter about their adventures. Read aloud to each other.

56. No March Madness? Have a Scrabble tournament. Or Bananagrams. Pictionary, anyone?

57. Get into baking with "The Great British Baking Show," but your technical challenge is baking something with the ingredients you have on hand (that you didn't already use in the charcuterie board).

58. Indoor scavenger hunt.

59. Alternate reading the Harry Potter series with your kids and cap each one off with the movie.

60. Dye your hair a new color. No one else needs to see it if you don't like it.

61. Read Robert Jordan’s 14-book “Wheel of Time” series before it streams on Amazon starring Rosamund Pike.

62. Write a play starring your loved ones. Perform it via a video call app.

63. Go viral in the good way by making a quarantine-themed TikTok.

64. Rearrange your sock drawer. Really.

65. Stop procrastinating and do your income taxes.

66. Make lists of all the museums, sporting events and concerts you want to visit when they finally reopen.

67. Get into comics with digital subscriptions on your tablet, like Marvel Unlimited.

68. Rearrange your furniture to make it seem like your home is a totally different space.

69. Practice shuffling playing cards like a Poker dealer. Be ready for employment opportunities once all casinos open back up.

70. Organize your spice rack alphabetically or get crazy and do it by cuisine.

71. Teach your dog to shake. Hand sanitizer optional.

72. Memorize the periodic table. You never know when that will come in handy.

73. Order and put together some IKEA furniture. Time yourself.

74. Get a free trial of a streaming service and binge-watch as much as you can before it expires.

75. Apply for a new job. You have remote work experience now.

76. Learn a new style of dance via YouTube, from bellydancing to breaking.

77. Update or write your will and organize your affairs. Yes, it sounds melodramatic and morbid but let’s face it: This is a task many of us avoid because we never have the time. Now we do.

78.The parades have been canceled but you can still make corned beef and cabbage for St. Patrick’s Day.

79. Bring out the Legos. Build your house inside of your house.

80. Watch the "Star Wars" movies in this and only this order: Rogue One-IV-V-II-III-Solo-VI-VII-VIII-IX.

81. Two words: Coronavirus beard! Grow it, moisturize it, comb it, love it.

82. Learn the words to "Tung Twista." Get them so ingrained in your brain that you can rap them as fast as Twista can. Impress everyone.

83. Been meaning to get some new glasses? Try on new frames virtually on sites like GlassesUSA.com.

84. Attempt things with your non-dominant hand, from writing to brushing your teeth. Prepare to be frustrated.

85. How many words per minute can you type? See if you can get speedier by taking a typing course.

86. Prepare to verbally duel a bully who wants to discuss the evolution of the market economy in the Southern colonies, by memorizing Matt Damon's "Good Will Hunting" speech.

87. Learn origami. Make cranes for your loved ones.

88. Stretch. Work on your flexibility. It's possible to get the splits back, right?

89. Try to speak in pig Latin. Or, "ig-pay, atin-Lay."

90. Talk to your plants. How are they doing? Make sure they are getting the amount of sunlight they should be. Check their soil. Water if necessary.

91. Deep condition your hair and put paraffin wax on your hands. Enjoy your soft hair and nails.

92. Consider donating money to food banks to help families struggling to get meals.

93. Write a song. If you want to make it about your time inside and put it to the tune of "My Sharona" and replace "Sharona" with "Corona," do what you have to do.

94. Study the art of beatboxing.

95. Try moving in super-slow motion. It's OK to laugh at regular speed.

96. You know how there are dozens of ways to wear a scarf, but you only wear it the one way? Learn the other ways.

97. Learn Old English words. Pepper them into your conversation. Wherefore not?

98. Try on a new shade of lipstick. See how long it takes your partner to notice it.

99. Take deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth.

100. Sleep. Get lots of it.

#corona #coronavirus #quarantine #self care #activity #freetime #dosomethingforyourself

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shrunkendalmatian · 5 years

Text

Chapter 2 - An unexpected Test

Dylan and Dawkins work on an alternative solution for Dylan’s condition.. during testing things don’t really go as planned.

“Are you really sure about this Dawkins?" Dylan asked while sitting close to Dawkins' tablet where he examined extensive chemical notations of a strange and complex formula.

"Sure? Well, i'm not, but for what it's worth until I can get new components for the Size Ray i might as well try another approach to solve your situation." he answered while adding two drops of a chemical inside a vial with a viscous substance, the mixture reacted and slowly changed colors until it got a vibrant yellow glow.

Dylan winced while shielding his eyes with a paw, in his diminute stature the glowing bottle looked like a small sun, even Dawkins squinted his eyes a little bit. Upon closing the cap of the bottle the glow would quickly fade away as it couldn't react without oxygen. "What now?"

"What now?"

"Now we need to test it on a living organism, watch closely, take measures and make tests to determine if it'll work."

"I'm skeptical about it working..."

"And why is that Dylan?"

"Do you really expect me to believe in a growth potion made with shampoo for Dog's sake!?"

"It's not any shampoo, it's a expensive brand, scientifically tested and destined to increase the growth of fur. In essence I used the same chemical bases with complex organics elements associated with DNA sequences related with growth!"

"The more you talk about it the more stupid it sounds..."

"I don't expect small minds to understand the brilliance of my works."

"Ouch... Small jokes, really!?"

"Sorry brother..." Dawkins replies with a sigh while extending his paw to Dylan.

"No... I'm sorry too, you are doing your best here and i keep complaining. It's just..." Dylan approaches and climbs on Dawkins's paw.

"I know, it's dificult, we are both shaken by what happened. But I promise you, I'll fix this!" Dawkins says with a lot of determination in his tone while putting Dylan on top of his head.

"Thanks Dawkins, you are the best." Dylan replies by hugging Dawkins' ear.

"Haha, that tickles... I appreciate and reciprocate the sentiment Dylan. Let's go outside to test this." The young genius carries the closed canister in his mouth while heading towards the front door of their house, with Dylan resting on his head.

Eventually the two canines would arrive at the park. Dylan had been using his younger brother's ear as cover for most of the way in order to avoid curious looks from both Animals and humans. This included the stampede of puppies that ran past them, clearly indicating that someone had dared to use the work "Park" around the house too loudly.

Fortunately for Dylan, he managed to make out Dolly in the sea of spots, meaning the pups would be under some sort of supervision. However, this also meant that this could be his ultimate reveal regarding his new height. He had been able to stay concealed from the others while Dawkins had been working on this formula, playing sick and having the younger pup keep others out as well as possible while doing so. With a bit of luck, he might not have to reveal it after all if this worked.

As the two gazed around the park, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Dolly was hanging out with Roxy and Snowball, who was being constantly dragged away by the leash connectign her to her human. A hole in the ground spewing out dirt was telling that Diesel had given himself to his passion once again, Da Vinci was heading towards the bridge with a spraycan, ready to create more of her art at one of the few walls in the park.

"Alright, Dylan.. Rememeber: we first have to test the formula on a fitting biological organism... I'm certain you wouldn't want another first-paw approach, would you?"

"Absolutely not!" Dylan waved his open paw in front of him, signaling a stop. "I had enough first-paw approaches for quite a bit". How about a plant? Maybe a flower?

"Flowers are not exactly the best choice for a test subject, but it should work.. or at least point towards the desired effect." Dawkins was unsure, of course he hadn't been hoping to have a full scale test on another animal, maybe he hoped perhaps that Dylan would actually offer himself as a subject, but testing it on local flora should help as well.

"And no one is gonna be in trouble if the test doesn't work out the way it should, right? Come on! Let's find one!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Meow-wow-wow-wow-wow!" The meditative mantra could be heard as Deepak was sitting with the cat, Constantin. Even with the chaotic way other animals were playing around the part, the two of them seemed undisturbed. As the chant eventually faded, the young pup opened his eyes and looked at the feline.

"Isn't it a wonderful day?"

"As guru Meow once said, 'Internal harmony prevails over the external chaos.' so as long as we are harmonized with our inner cat, the outside world have little interference on ourselves." Constantin smiled to the young puppy and closed his eyes to start his mantra again, but the universe apparently had other plans for the duo... " Meow-wow-wow-wow-OUCH!" With no warning or whatsoever a frisbee came flying and hit the feline straight up on his nose.

"Constantin are you ok?" Deepak fussed about his friend, who was now laying on the grass from the impact, while two big bulldogs approached them, clearly looking for something.

"What sort of dimwitted fool would careless toss around such stupid objects?" Furious, the cat looked at the dogs in front of him, but ignoring their menacing size he continued: "Can't you mutts play your childish chasing games somewhere else?" He tosses the frisbee towards one of the bulldogs, but he catches it with his mouth, and with his powerfull jaws, breaks it in half.

"Brutus, i think we can start another chasing game to distract us..." The first bulldog begins.

"You are right Braxus. And we will give you a head start, of three seconds, to make things interesting cat!" The other continued after spiting the broken frisbee on the ground.

Constantin's ears bended towards his back as he realizes what they meant, he starts to run while Deepak finally understands the situation...

The small puppy was once again stressed out as he ran trying to get his fellow dogs to stop chasing his friend. "Please, can't we leave this barbaric bahaviour behind us?" He pleaded as the chase continued.

In the meantime Dylan and Dawkins had found a fitting test subject in the shape of a lonely dandelion. Dylan was still on his younger brother's head, peaking over his forehead as Dawkins opened the bottle. "I really hope this works.."

"It should.." Dawkins said half heartedly, both because he didn't want to point out the difference in physique between a dandelion flower and a dalmatian and how the results of one can't be 100% transferred to the other. And because he had to be very careful in administering the formula, trying to only use single drops to preserve it for more test subjects.

Unfortunately, as he was focused on that, Dawkins couldn't take notice of his surroundings. Even Dylan was only made aware of something wrong once he felt his nose closing up. As he looked around for the cause he saw that Constantin, being chased, and running towards the two. "Watch out!"

Dawkins was startled, and just moments later the feline jumped right over his head with an accompaning sneeze from his shrunken brother. Fortunately, Constantine managed to jump over the little dog effortlessly and despite the shock, Dawkins managed to not spill any of the serum.

However, where the cat succeeded, his pursuers had no success, and the two dogs knocked over the two dalmatians, just as their shock was settling again. Dawkins was knocked onto the ground, followed by a little thud as Dylan landed next to him. But where was the bottle?

The two frantically looked around to find it and time seemed to be slowed down as Dylan pointed upwards. "There!"

Dawkins followed his brother's paw and saw the bottle flying through the air, the lid barely closed. Realizing that Dylan wasn't gonna be able to try and catch it he quickly got on his paws and ran to catch it before it could hit the ground. As he ran he tried calculating the trajectory of it's arc in order to figure out where it would come down.

His gaze still focused on the formula, his calculations suggested that the point of impact was gonna be out of reach and as he looked towards where it would land, hoping it would land safely at least, he spotted...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Calm down, Deepak. Breathe!" The zen pup had returned to his meditative stance while still watching Constantin being chased and trying to prevent himself from freaking out about it. He was already stressed towards a tipping point.. which was easily reached when he felt a thud from something fairly solid hitting him on the top of his head, followed by a feeling of a thick liquid covering his body very soon afterwards.

It was a feeling he remembered.. during the horrible day of snowfall, not long ago, when his parents and his oldest siblings decided to have a competetion.. His eyes flung open and he looked around, his view confirming the feeling. He was covered in what looked like a yellow shampoo. He was quickly looking as if he was close to a complete freakout, he wanted to scream but the liquid did something strange. It started to glow.

Dawkins had stopped as he saw the bottle land on his brother, the lid knocked open and it's contents all over the Yin-Yang-puppy. "Uh oh.." he gulped as he saw the formula glowing.. a sign that the effect was imminent.

Deepak at this point had stopped his panic as the feeling of the serum perplexed him, the spreading warmth of the energy of the reaction. The liquid being absorbed into his skin and a different feeling he never felt before. A strange stretching feeling all over his body, accompanied by his view rising higher. Soon he would see his Brother who had stopped before him.. now he could look down at the other.. and most other dogs and things around the park.

As the realization of what was happening to him struck him, he did his best to remain calm. Which was very difficult given the situation. Dawkins looked up at his growing brother and slowly, but surely, walked backwards.. step by step.. he couldn't be sure how potent the serum was and how much he would grow, so being at a good distance away from Deepak felt like a good idea.

"W-what is happening?" Deepak asked as he grew even larger. His gaze once again fell on Dawkins.. "Brother, is this one of your inventions?"

"Well.. it's a long story" Dawkins' ears dropped as the now huge pup talked to him.. Deepak wasn't one to get angry about it... at least not physically but it was still better to keep him calm. "But... one could say so, yes"

"How long will this continue?" Deepak ased as his head pushed through the canopy of a nearby tree and eventually stopped when he was about as tall as it. "Oh, thank heavens it stopped! Please tell me you can turn me back!"

Before Dawkins could reply, Constantine zipped past him once again. The chase was still going on and from what it looked like both parties were so occupied with it that neither of them noticed the big change of scenery that had occured.

Deepak's worry about his friend returned and had turned into frustration. However.. where he didn't see any way to help the feline before, now there was a possibility. The new perspective given by his new size had a temptation to it.. where he had to endure being trampled.. or run over... hit with a shot of shampoo to fly across the house.. Well, let’s say: ‘Good luck try putting him into a spot like this now!’ He was able to be on the giving end for once!

No, this was not the way.. he wasn't like that! Even in a situation like this, he was not to let his anger get the best of him. He took a deep, calming breath and looked back down at the still going chase. Perhaps there was a way he could use the unfortunate scenario to help. With a move of his leg, he put his paw down right behind the cat, causing the 2 pursuing dogs to run into it, stopping them in their tracks, and the hunt, then and there.

"My apologies, but this is not how animals should treat each other" he spoke, relatively calm for his standards, giving the two canines a slight gentle smile.

However, as they realized what they just had bumped into, they looked up with a terrified expression and quickly ran away. Deepak's ears dropped low, as he saw the two dogs run.

Seeing the distress in his brother, Dawkins stepped closer again "It seems you have.. unfortunately become the test subject for my experiemtal growth formula." he put one paw at the enlarged pup's one. "However, you don't have to worry about staying like this.. the formula is designed to be temporary.. Given the way it was used and the time it takes for it's components to degrade.. it might take an hour or two to fully lose it's effect." He gave Deepak a nervous smile.. he wasn't sure how comforting it was to hear that there was no immediate fix.

"One or two hours?" Deepak asked. "What am I supposed to do for this long?" While the knowledge of the temporarity of the effects carried a bit of comfort with it, the given time would still mean that he'd have to spend almost the entire afternoon like this.

"Well.. given the fact that the formula worked on you, you could help me collect the data! Measuring how much it affected your body.. how long it lasts precisely.. if it carries any side effects.." Dawkins counted up the things he could figure out..

"And what do I have to do for this, brother?" Deepak asked. The incident didn't seem to have caused a panic.. yet. He couldn't help himself but imagine to what could happen if he was seen like that.. but what Dawkins said didn't sound to attention grabbing.. untill... "S-Side effects?"

"Uhm, yes.. the solution has not been tested yet.. at all. It might carry some unforseen side effects with it when interacting with an organism. But the chances for that should be fairly low!" Dawkins tried to sound as reassuring as possible.. even if the chance of side effects were low, there was still the possibility of something occuring. "Aside from your new height.. do you feel any different?"

For a moment Deepak considered.. should he tell his now little brother about the temptation he felt before halting the two other canines? No... he decided to not act out on it and other than that.. there was no pain or anything within him, outside from the different point of view. "I suppose not"

"Alright.. your growth has stopped about 1 minute and 37 seconds ago" The engineer pup pulled out a stopwatch and pressing it to run. "Yes, I've been counting.. we can't risk any data to be lost." He put the watch onto the ground as it kept on ticking. "Let's see... Height! We need to figure out how much you actually grew.. doing it the old fashioned way might be difficult due to the.. scale of things." Dawkins stopped with a gasp.. Dylan! He lost track of his tiny brother when the other two knocked them over.

"While I'll try to figure something out.. would you excuse me for a moment? Just.. try to stay calm!" Dawkins called up as he quickly turned around, seaching the grass for his meadow for his brother. "Dylan!" he periodcally called out softly, hoping it would reach his older brother but no one else.

Dylan had been knocked into a bush and just recently managed to find his way out as he heard his name being called by the familiar voice. His head poked out of the bush and he looked around "Daw-k-k-kins?" he started stuttering as he noticed Deepak sitting next to a tree.. it wouldn't be a big shock if he wasn't about as tall as the plant. "Wha-ha-hat happened?"

"Dylan!" Dawkins had noticed the tiny head of his brother appear out of the bush. "I'm glad I found you! I.. Well.. I have good and bad news... The good news is that the potion works in increasing size.. the bad news.. well.." He nodded over to Deepak, who was still clearly visible.. now some of the other pups had noticed him and started gathering around the giant who was starting to look distressed due to the attention.

But Deepak wasn't the only one who was worried by the attention. "Dawkins, please tell me you know how to turn him back!" Dylan said.. he being tiny could be handled.. but a pup being this big.. he would never fit into the house.. possibly not even in the garden!

"Yes, the formula's effects should only last temporarly as the additional components to the shampoo react and desintegrate over time, his body should be back to normal soon.

"Wait.. if it was temporary.. how was it going to help me get back to normal?!" Dylan asked, confused as well as angered.. why did Dawkins waste time on something that wouldn't actually fix his issue instead of just getting the Recombuvilator back running.

"It would have taken longer to first get the components stable to work indefinitely.. and would you have prefered to have two situations on paw rather than one in case the test went.. well.." Dawkins just nodded back into the direction of their enlarged brother. He'd thought Dylan would appreaciate some safety measures.

Dylan sighed.. "Alright.. you're right, Dawkins.. How long is this going to last?" They certainly wouldn't be able to hide Deepak from Mom and Dad like that.. let alone fit him into the house.

"The components should desintegrate enough to lose effects within an hour or two of exposure to air. In the meantime I'm planing to collect the test data. Maybe it's worth trying to make the formula last."

"Alright.. but I'll wait here.. Look! The pups have noticed him.. and I don't really want to be around the center of attentions you know?" Dylan said, his ears flopping down and he retreated a bit into the bush. "Just... just get me when you're done." Dawkins waited a moment after his brother's head disappeared in the green.. Given the fact that Dylan often showed a lot of ego.. this was quite the shocking situation.. being tiny must have been quite the horrifying experience for him..

The young pup just nodded and turned around, ready to finish the test by gathering the data. As Dawkins approached Deepak again he met Dolly’s alarmed eyes as she walked hurriedly towards him. “Why would you do that to Deepak Dawkins?!”

“Ah, w-well it was an accident Dolly, but don’t worry, it’s temporary.”

“Oh thank Dog…” She sighs in relief turning her attention to Deepak again.

Meanwhile Dawkins ponders a little about the best method to collect data in the current situation. There is an issue with all the pups around, who are all curious about their giant brother, and for a moment Dawkins gulps while talking to himself in a whisper: “What would Dylan do?”

Suddenly he realizes something, it feels like a heavy burden is put on his shoulders while a decision and an idea takes form inside of his head. Turning his attention to Dolly and mustering some determination he says: “Dolly, in Dylan’s absence we must manage this situation as Top Dogs. I need your help for that.”

“Huh?! Ok, but what are we going to do?”

“It’s quite simple in fact...” Dawkins then proceeds to explain his plan to her and after Dolly’s agreement they begin their work. Dawkins and Dolly call out the pups and organize them in a line, they explain what the young siblings need to do. The small pups are to be used as a reference for measurements of Deepak’s current state.

They climb over Deepak’s limbs and body to form “puppy-chains” while Dawkins takes notes using them as numbers to register the grownth rate of Deepak’s body. At first Deepak was really nervous and distressed, but Dawkins and Dolly did their best to reassure and keep him calm.

Ultimately Dawkins would finish collecting the data he required .. except for the precise time the effects would last. Deepak had actually managed to remain fairly calm and the other pups were really playful towards him, not scared at all of their giant brother, and actually wanting a ride on his head to have the view over London. Of course both Dizzy and Dee Dee were some of the most active and playfull pups in this situation.

Dawkins was busy working out the data, figuring out if he could perfect the formula. It could maybe be another alternative for Dylan to turn back to normal, in case the size ray wasn't gonna be fixed easily. As he finished it up he saw Dolly approaching him.

"So.. you still haven't told me.. Why did you even work on something that can make stuff ginormous? Dolly asked with a comparatively serious look on her face.

"Well.. you know as it is.. inspiration struck and I just wanted to see if I could do it!" Dawkins replied with a clearly lying grin.. the only time he managed to pull of a really convincing lie was when she had been helping to guide through the prank they had played on Dylan a while ago.

"Dawkins.." Dolly started, but then was interrupted by a loud shriek from behind her.. given the volume it must have been Deepak.. Both dogs faced their attention to the giant and noticed that he was starting to shrink.

While Dolly was still watching, Dawkins felt a few tiny pebbles hitting his head from the side. He turned to the source, and as it turned out, Dylan carefully made his way closer to his brother while the attention was focused on Deepak.. he still hid behind flowers, rocks and anything else that could cover him.

He knew his brother would crack under pressure, so he needed him to not say why he needed a growth formula in the first place! Especially around Dolly. She would never let Dylan hear the end of it if she knew. When Dawkins made eye contact, his tiny brother gesticulated to keep his muzzle shut. However, Dylan quickly hopped back behind cover when he saw Dolly's head turning back.

"Well... that was..." Dawkins looked back at his sister, but picked up the stopwatch "1 hour 35 minutes and 12 seconds! And it doesn't seem to carry along any side effe..." The pup stopped when he looked back at his shrinking brother. Deepak was indeed returning to his normal size, however, the hair growth shampoo he used as the basis didn't seem to desintegrate. While the puppy shrank, his fur seemed to remain just as long, even though it lost its girth on each hair.

Both Dolly and Dawkins just watched their brother turn into a gigantic fur-ball. Just his head peaked out, as the pup seemed to be stuck in a ball of his own fur, easiely still larger than a human. As the change concluded Constantin walked up to the now once again little pup in the yin-yang textured ball of black and white fur.

"I always believed it was a mere legend.. stories tell of a giant hairball! Youngling.. the stories might have told.. of you. You might be the giant hairball!"

The feline would soon regret exclaiming the last part, as single voices would pop around them, growing into a chorus of the word "Ball". Within mere moments both were washed away in a sea of spots, knocking around Deepak like a playball.. Fortunately for him, his fur was protected him from any harm.

"Hehe.. I think he's gonna be alright.." Dolly said.. the image of Deepak not stuck inside a giant ball but being a giant ball seemed to be entertaining. She would have been worried, but he wasn't even screaming. It almost seemed like he was enjoying himself. "Aaanyway... Why don't you tell me what you needed that growth shampoo stuff for?"

Dawkins pondered, he knew Dylan was still watching, but he had to take charge already and for the good of every-pup involved he had to make a decision.. "Alright.. I will tell you.. just.. Just come into my workshop with me when we get home."

"Alright.. Altough I think it's getting time anyway.. " Dolly turned around to the others stil playing with their brother.. "I think it's time for DINNER!"

As expected, the trigger word did it's job and soon the wave of spots turned and was rushing towards the park exit. Dolly hopped onto her skateboard and raced off in order to keep up with them, knowing that Dawkins was fully capable of picking up his stuff and following as well.

Dylan had come out of hiding when she left. "Dawkins! What are you thinking?! You can't tell Dolly what's going on!"

"I'm sorry, Dylan.. but it's gonna be for the best." Dawkins said as he picked up his notes before grabbing his brother carefully and placing him on his head.. "Besides.. it's now too late to change it anyway, is it?" He said with a confident smirk.

He had made his decission, and he was gonna hold on to it. After all, what was Dylan gonna do about it? And perhaps, since the others were so accepting about Deepak, maybe it would go just as smooth for Dylan.

Dylan sighed as he was placed on Dawkins' head and they made their way home. "I guess it is..." he just said while imagining all the humiliation he would have to endure at home once Dolly knew. But there was nothing he could do about it anymore, as his big little brother carried him off.

#101 Dalmatian street #dylan dalmatian #Dawkins Dalmatian #deepak dalmatian #dolly dalmatian

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bleedingcoffee42 · 5 years

Text

Eureka AU- Part 10

20k words was a gross underestimation. Maybe this ‘pilot episode’ will be wrapped up in 30k-40k but fuck me for already thinking about making more episodes in this AU and making it a series. Cause I have that time. But the ‘working together as well as married Royai AU’ element is not getting used enough in this fic and that would be a shame to not work with that more.

Click the Eureka AU tag to see prev parts of this serial flash fic.

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While Mustang and Edward where taking what they needed from Comanche's lab, Marcoh went over to have a conversation with Alphonse about the concerns he had with the chelation process. He had caught a few glances from Dr. Knox that said 'You better bring this up before I do' and he appreciated the good doctor allowing him to have the floor to discuss the matter. He was a little apprehensive about disturbing Al as he was controlling the nanites within Hawkeye manually. “Can we talk without it disrupting what you're doing?

“This?” Al said cheerily. “Oh this is actually easy for me. Ever since that little accident a few months ago where I had to transfer my consciousness to the bots to become a suit of armor because my body was in another dimension, I really fell like they're a part of me. Controlling them is second nature at this point.”

Marcoh had just assumed the kid was really into cosplay or prepping for a renaissance festival during that week he was walking around like a knight. There was a lot that happened in these halls that nobody really wanted to question. “If you can make them anything you want, why did you pick that?”

“Well, our Dad used to collect vintage armor when we were kids and had them lining the walls of his study. That's where Ed and I taught ourselves science. That's also where Mom would bring us cookies and tell us how proud she was of us and since we were trying to bring her back I was thinking of those days. She always smiled the most when we were in there. That's how I remembered her. So when I was being deconstructed and I quickly transferred myself to the nanites, I was already thinking about that time and place. It was the first thing I thought of.” Al smiled and then got more serious. “Plus I had to be taller than my brother and that was the biggest human size specimen I had ever seen.”

“If these nanites are a part of you.” Knox finally interjected himself into the conversation. He was blunt and that was what was needed or Marcoh was going to bring out the tea and cookies and start chatting about something else. “What's going to happen when we neutralize them with the chelation process?”

“They're not fragile, they'll just go offline until I can set them in repair mode once they are back in their tank. The chealors will bind to specific metals they are constructed of and disassemble them, they'll be partially broken down but nothing they can't fix themselves. If anything they'll come out of this stronger and with more experience than before.” Al said confidently. “So Dr. Knox, please place a catheter and collection bag if you have not already.”

“Not without Mustang's approval.” Knox said and sat down next to his patient. “First why don't you start by explain to me how you're going to avoid causing renal failure?”

“We're using a biological so that it will take time and collect the metals and deposit them in the kidneys so they can be processed like any other waste.” Al said. “I could program the nanites to do this themselves on a metered basis, but I would have something far more complex than the kidney's are prepared to hand. That's why we're going with chelation because it will transfer control of the process back to a biological competent instead of a mechanical. Nature can work in ways that mental I can't anticipate. “

“The chelators will bind to and break down the metals in the nanites themselves.” Marcoh reiterated.

“I get all that.” Knox said dryly. “What about the virus? The chelation process is going to destroy the carrier for the virus that we're counting on carrying it out of her system. Removing it from the blood stream is only a first step, depositing an active virus in the excretory system is worse.”

“My nanites have mapped the strain we're dealing with. We need an anti-viral to target them.” Al replied.

“There we go.” Knox opened his hands as they came back around to the missed step.

“Oh, yeah.” Al said and bit his lip. “I guess we didn't talk about that. I just assumed Dr. Marcoh was waiting on me to get him the profile of what we're dealing with so he could make something.”

“I was.” Marcoh shrugged. He had just assumed this was the route and he watched Knox mumble about 'fucking researcher' and 'I don't read minds'. “I'm sorry Doctor. We're used to working on our own and even in collaborations we leave each other to work on our respected specialties. I don't think any of us would work with someone without knowing something about what that person could bring to the collaboration and respecting their ability to contribute to the process.”

“Right.” Knox nodded. “I'll sit over here and commiserate with my patient who has to deal with the repercussions of that way of thinking in her job and life every damned day.”

“I guess...” Al thought about it. Knox was just an ordinary doctor, even if he was exemplary. He treated patients using the tests and technology they produced but he was an end game user. “We should be better about explaining things but it's just not how we operate.”

“We honestly wouldn't work well together if we told each other what to do. It usually devolves into a lot of yelling and not much progress.” Marcoh mumbled. “No offense, doctor.”

“None taken.” Knox said. “Just looking out for my patient.”

“I'll get to work.” Marcoh said. “I'll go to my lab. Call me if you need anything.”

As Marcoh left, Ed and Roy returned. Roy saw Marcoh was engrossed in his tablet and on a mission so he asked Al, “Is he off to make the anti-viral?”

“Yes.” Al said sheepishly and Knox mumbled so more. “Can I get your permission to have a collection bag placed?”

“I thought you would have done it already.” Roy replied and Knox threw his hands up, cursed a little and got up to leave. He wasn't sure why he was upset but was pretty sure it had to do with being around scientist who liked to assume a lot of things and did not waste time explaining anything unless they wanted money or supplies. “Did you check to see if there was any blood in the blood bank from Riza? I know she donated a lot and we have at least one bag in storage from her annual physical which is required.”

“Nothing fresh.” Knox said. “It's been a busy few months around here and you can understand why she only donates when there is downtime.”

“I do understand that completely.” Roy nodded. 42 days was still the standard for keeping fresh blood refrigerated. They hadn't pushed those limits yet.

“We should have something frozen but I didn't want to pull that out in case we needed it.” Knox replied. “We have plenty fresh in her blood type.”

“Our storage facility is state of the art.” Roy assured him. “Dr. McDougal's advancements in freezing technology mean we can store frozen plasma way long that the conventional year. In case you have your concerns.”

“Yeah, so I'm told.” Knox replied. “Thankfully I haven't had an occasion to need it since I've worked here. One nice thing about dealing with scientists instead of soldiers.”

Al frowned and the doctor got up to leave and collect his necessary supplies. Mustang looked over at him for an explanation and he quietly said, “I guess the whole anti-viral step wasn't obvious to everyone.”

“It was obvious, you doing something about it was not.” Knox snapped right before he left and tried to slam the door.

“Sorry.” Al called out after him.

“We're all a little stressed.” Roy admitted. Then he went back over to Riza and sat down. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “Once Marcoh makes the anti-viral we'll proceed with the chelation. We'll have to give the anti-viral time to work, but if he's making it it should be extremely efficient. He already knows the Xerxes virus since he made it, it's familiar territory and the hold up will just be the equipment producing what he needs. Time will also give Riza a chance to take her body back from all this and once Knox gets back I think plasma will help. Al, how are you doing?”

“I can keep this up all night.” He assured him.

Roy reached over and took Riza's hand again, weaving his fingers between hers and gently squeezing. “Ed, now that we have a profile of this pathogen we're dealing with, see if you can't do some digging and find out who made it.”

“I should be able to narrow it down by finding out who got an extra dose of Marcoh's Xerxes Vaccine.” Ed said and slid his laptop over. “We are pretty good at monitoring who we distribute our products to, even if the government isn't. Did you want to give me your access to....”

“No.” Roy said and flashed a smile at him. Give Edward Elric his password to gain complete access to everything this facility had on it's servers? Ha! “I'll send you the invoices. “

“We could just ask Dr. Marcoh.” Al said. “He'll know how many he made.”

“I think the good doctor feels bad enough about how this all turned out, let's not compounded it unless we have to.” Roy said and took his phone out and opened up the app he used to keep track of billing. He did a quick search and found the invoice in question and forwarded it to Ed. “Knox pulled the records from her unit, did he leave those notes here?”

“Yeah, it's in the file.” Ed gave an embarrassed grin. “'Cause someone likes to share information, unlike us.”

“Occupational hazard.” Roy said. “He's over it, he just wants to make sure it doesn't keep happening. We have to make sure we include him even though I know you all think he's just a doctor.”

Al sighed. The superiority complexes and egos did get out of hand here where almost everyone could brag on multiple doctorates, and too often did. Mustang and Ed were no exception and Al thought he was above that but he had been the one to offend Knox. “It's not like a medical doctor is a lesser field of study or occupation. We do respect him a lot.”

Roy knew that Knox was on edge, not just because of his patient, but because his own history as an army doctor had put him in the position to do some ethically questionable things while under orders. This, the way they were approaching Riza's treatment, felt more like experimenting on a patient than saving her. Roy knew that Knox would never say anything, he knew that wasn't the case, but he could see it in the Doctor's eyes when they bounced from solution to solution. He understood for sure that there was no time to test, just react, but it didn't mean it felt right to him. Both Knox and Riza were the same in that respect, they trusted instinct because their job was rooted in practice. Roy and the other scientist saw practice as a sign of complacency, if something was already established it was meant to be reconstructed in some way to make it better. There was no settling for how things were, it was always a process of moving forward especially because the results were uncertain. Science was about knowledge and pursing a greater truth, bending the rules of nature and shattering the standard practices because they had been established by scientists before them who failed to push boundaries any further than that. Roy squeezed Riza's hand again, it drove her crazy that he would rush into the unknown with a grin on his face when she wanted to default to reconnaissance and defense until it was safe to proceed.

“The order for the Xerxes vaccination was originally for a dozen doses.” Ed reported. “However Marcoh demanded blood samples from the Army so he could test the vaccine while also regulating how much he was sending out. So each vaccine he made was labeled for a specific person to avoid a surplus. Comparing to the records Knox got from his Medical Corps contacts, there is an extra dose intended for a Private Mobuta Mobuo who was not in that unit.”

“Did you say Mobuta Mobuo?” Knox asked as he returned with supplies.

“Do you know him?” Ed asked.

“Yeah, I made him up.” Knox said and shook his head and walked over to his table to set his box down. He turned to see three surprised scientist and wished he could be satisfied with being the one to cause that reaction, but his own heart was pounding as a name from his past came back to haunt him.

“I got the idea from an episode of M*A*S*H where they made up an officer in order to give his pay to an orphanage. I created a fictional soldier who 'used' up a lot of supplies during my attempts to save him from injuries, which I instead sent to a pair of doctors who were treating patients from both sides in the war. I had to 'kill' him in action in order to avoid having him promoted and given a medal of honor for as many times as I reported him being my 'patient'.”

“Dr. Knox, “ Al said with a hush whisper of awe. “That's amazing.”

“Yeah, well someone brought him back from the dead and that's not a coincidence.” Knox tried not to loose his cool but he was worried. Not about himself, but because this was a sign someone was trying to eliminate a lot of loose ends.

“Don't worry Knox, apparently that happens a lot around here.” Roy said and leaned back in his chair. So this was as well orchestrated move on raven's part. Knox would have done the autopsy if they didn't step in and save Riza from certain death. Knox would be thorough, use all the resources available to him, and would eventually find traces of the Xerxes virus. Then it would all play out like a scripted murder mystery: Eyes would turn to Marcoh for creating it, Roy would defend him and pull the invoice and they would be at this stage right now, asking who the hell Mobuta Mobuo was and why he wasn't real. Blame would shift to Knox who created the fake personnel file and by the end of the day he would be in handcuffs heading to a military camp to await trail.

“I got those doctors killed.” Knox said and the three of them once again looked at him shocked. He leaned on his patient's bed to support himself as the guilt of actions long ago ripped his heart out. “The Rockbells. They were good people. They volunteered their services to a humanitarian medical organization that treated patients no matter who they were. The army saw them as problem, putting enemy soldiers back on the front and replenishing numbers, so they would confiscate their supplies as contraband and try to dry up their resources. They were heroes, real doctors without allegiance to anyone but patients, and when they were killed....I suspected it a bit too convenient of an ambush to be coincidence.”

Ed watched the doctor slump over further, weighted down by the guilt. “That was not your fault!”

“I helped provide a trail of stolen supplies to their camp.” Knox said. “I gave them a reason to write off a murder as a 'tactical move'.”

“No.” Roy said with a flat monotone that said there was absolutely no doubt in what he was saying. “Raven bought himself a promotion in blood from that campaign. His corruption runs deep and now he's trying to erase the evidence. You and Hawkeye are both loved and respected soldiers, exiling both of you here was the only way he could ensure nobody asked questions about your disappearance from the ranks. Being off the radar for so long, you've both lost contact with your original units and life has moved on.”

“Yeah, I don't have to have the obvious explained to me now, Mustang.” Knox looked up at him. “These eyes have seen a lot and I know a set up when I see it. I also know I wasn't going to be seeing a trial.”

“We can't let him get away with any of this Mustang!” Ed said and slammed his fist into the table. “This son of a bitch is losing sleep tonight because he's excited he's going to get this gift wrapped and delivered to him like a present tomorrow.”

“He's underestimated us.” Roy said and looked at Riza. “So let's get back to work saving our Sheriff so she can have the pleasure of arresting him tomorrow.”

#fic #royai #eureka au

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