#technically finger reattach time is like 5 hours? i think?

[waterlogged-detective]

6 for darcy!! Especially considering their own medical experience

OC Asks!!

6: If they were badly injured, and for whatever reason couldn't go to a hospital, who would they go to for help?

Bold of you to assume he would ever go to a hospital in the first place. He just deals with things himself. He would amputate his own arm if it came down to it, because he just trusts himself more than anyone else.

Most you're gonna get out of him asking for help with anything medical is "Hold this tourniquet for me. Great." or "Here's a watch, if I can't get the finger reattached within five minutes, yell at me for making it unusable will you?"

Even when he was alive as a resurrectionist VERY LEGAL AND UPSTANDING SURGEON he just cut out the middle man in everything. If you want something done right just do it yourself and all that jazz.

[wannawritefast]

Iron Maiden

A/N: Hey, guys! This fic is my submission for @bionic-buckyb ‘s Birthday angst-writing challenge. I had an awesome time writing this and I hope y’all enjoy it! And a big early HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you, Kait! Xoxo, Echo.

Prompt: 37. “You need to stop yelling at inanimate objects.” “And you need to stop telling me how to live my life but things never go as we want.”

Pairing: Tony x Daughter!Reader, Steve x Reader (if you squint)

“Y/n, watch your 6.” Steve warned. You spun around swiftly and fired your blasters at the oncoming HYDRA guard behind you. The man was knocked down immediately, right before he could tackle you to the ground.

“Thanks, Spangles,” you breathed. He hated that nickname. You jumped right back into action. Slamming another guard into the ground you felt a bullet hit your suit at the base of your neck. Your suit, a replica of your dad’s but fitted for you, hummed lowly before whirring in a concerning manner. That didn’t sound good… not one bit.

“Uh… FRIDAY, talk to me. What happened?” You asked. Your limbs moved slowly, hiccuping as you tried to turn to fight another guard running at you.

“It seems as if the bullet hit your suit at just the right angle to mess up your limb calibration…” You could fix this… This was totally fixable. All you needed to do was turn on the back-up calibrator manually and-

“Everything ok, kiddo?” Your dad’s voice chimed in on the comm line.

“I’m uh- I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Thanks for-”

“Not you, Peter. But I’m glad you’re fine. Y/n? You alright?”

“Just having some technical difficulties!” You called as, this time, a HYDRA agent was able to successfully knock you to the floor. Your limbs still sputtered. The man began punching your mask and your display screen sparked.

“FRIDAY, what happened?”

“No! I have this-”

“Limb calibration: impaired and inoperational.”

“Dad, don’t you dare do what I think-!” You warned. All of a sudden, Steve’s shield knocked the agent off of you.

“She’s clear, Stark.” He informed your father of your status before pushing back through the line of HYDRA agents. Did he just help your dad?

“Hey! I-!”

“FRIDAY, activate ‘Pick Me Up. I’m Scared’ Protocol on Iron Maiden.”

“DAD!” You screeched. All of a sudden, your display went red and FRIDAY took over. Your arms shot to your sides, involuntarily, and locked in place. Any resistance was no use; the suit was in control now. Your launch jets turned on and your autopilot overrode your manual flying.

Within seconds you were programmed on a route to the Avengers compound in New York while the rest of the team finished the mission. You were going to have some words with your father and Steve when they got back.

You were angrily repairing your suit when the whir-stomp pattern of your dad’s suit and the collective footsteps of the team entering the compound’s armory and suit repair center interrupted your music blaring through the speakers. You stood from your stool and moved your goggles to the top of your head. Crossing your arms and popping out your hip, you watched your dad stop while the rest of the group, Steve included, moved to the armory.

You stuck your gloved hand out to ruffle Peter’s hair and you did your handshake with him, not breaking eye contact with your father. He opened his face panel first and then the rest of his suit before stepping out of it. Right as Steve thought he could avoid your anger by blending with the group you turned your head swiftly at the blue-suit clad super soldier.

“You’re not off the hook, Spangles,” you chided humorlessly. The man paused in the doorway and you swore you heard Clint snicker. “Get your ass over here.” Steve dragged his feet and walked to the middle ground between you and your father.

“The ‘Pick Me Up. I’m Scared’ Protocol? Are fucking kidding me?! Last mission, I had a millisecond delay in my left gauntlet. The mission before, one bolt out of the 50 in my helmet didn’t latch. Dad, you use it every GODDAMN time! I am a grown-ass adult.” You growled at your father. He only blinked at you calmly. “And you!” You directed your rage-filled gaze back at Steve. “I was handling everything just fine-”

“You were not,” Steve corrected you. “You were getting pummeled by a HYDRA agent. Your suit malfunctioning was doing more harm than good and you weren’t safe.”

Your jaw dropped and you blinked, flabbergasted by his words.

“I can’t believe we’re agreeing on something, Rogers,” your dad spoke up.

Steve rolled his eyes as he pulled his helmet off of his head. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and let out an exhausted sigh. If you weren’t so pissed off, you would have been concerned.

“I don’t even know why I bother going on missions if you guys are going to just send me home before it ends.” You muttered as you went back to fixing your suit. You grabbed your blowtorch and pulled your goggles back on as you reset a panel along your suit’s rib armor, effectively and nonverbally dismissing them.

Steve and Tony each silently unwound from the mission, letting you work on your suit repairs in solitude. They knew better than to try to egg you on when you were this upset.

For the next few hours, you troubleshot everything. The blasters. The armor. The joint mobility. The display screens. The wiring. The rockets. The microphone. The AI pairing and connection. All to make sure that when you went on a mission next, your dad would have no excuse to take you out of the fight for stupid reasons.

You looked over at your dad’s empty and unrepaired suit. Grudgingly. It had bullet marks and chips in the armor where various weapons had clanged against it.

Every ounce of anger in your body told you to stay away from that suit and spite your dad by not fixing it… But as much as you were angry at your dad, you couldn’t put him at risk during the next mission.

So, grudgingly, you grabbed your tools and moved to where his suit was. He’d thank you later.

Thirty minutes of repairing your dad’s suit drove you to start talking to it. You weren’t crazy. You were just using an outlet.

“You are being too. Damn. Stubborn.” You snarled at a panel on the back of your dad’s suit. You had been trying to replace it for the past five minutes and you had reattached it 5 times. “If you’d be cooperative this would be way easier…”

You screwed it in again, gritting your teeth when you felt it tighten. If it didn’t stay this time you didn’t know what you were going to do.

You leaned back slightly with your palm cupped underneath the small piece in his armor, to catch it if it should fall. You waited for a few more seconds. With a satisfied smirk you pulled your hand away and moved onto the helmet of the suit.

Right as you set the helmet down on the table next to you, you heard a pop and the sound of a small piece of metal ringing against the floor. You turned around and beheld the sight of that goddamn panel on the floor.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you asked aloud. “All I’m trying to do is fix you and you are refusing to let me help…” You jammed it back in place, not your finest workmanship but sometimes brute force worked the best.

It remained in its spot for about five seconds before falling off again and hitting the floor with a small clang.

“I’m honestly so done with you…” you trailed off. “I’ll deal with you later.”

You proceeded to focus your attention on your dad’s helmet. “You know. I don’t understand how you manage to get so dirty every single mission.” You applied soap to a rag and wiped down the external lenses. “It’s like you want me to clean you every day.”

You put on your dad’s helmet to check the inside display. It whirred to life as soon as it was on your head. “Hello, Y/n Stark,” FRIDAY greeted.

“Hey, FRIDAY. Just doing some system’s checks on my dad’s helmet.” You waved your hand in front of the screen to test the lag and everything moved just as it should. “Check life remaining on the bulbs.”

“Life remaining on display bulbs: 12%.”

“Jeez…” It was enough to get through another mission but just barely. Leave it to your dad to wait to the last minute. You pulled off the helmet and lifted the front panel away from the piece of metal. “FRIDAY, eject projector bulbs.”

With a click, a small carton of bulbs was pushed out of the bottom of the facial panel. You grabbed it and tossed it between your hands before throwing it into your ‘recycle’ pile. You pulled a drawer out and replaced the bulb carton in the helmet, like clockwork. You worked on the rest of the suit, purposefully and purposely saving that goddamn spine panel for last.

The time came for you to replace the panel on your dad’s suit. It usually wouldn’t have made you as angry as fast as it did but today was just not your day… especially with your dad pulling you out of your mission early again.

The first few times it popped defiantly out of place, you were able to control your temper. But after the 22nd time of it jumping away from its delegated spot… well…

“I HAVE TRIED EVERYTHING AND YOU WON’T LISTEN!” You screeched at the piece of metal that was no bigger than 3 inches long and 1 inch wide. “I’M ONLY TRYING TO HELP!” You chucked it at the floor with unbridled force. You thought you saw a chip in the concrete from your outburst.

It was only a piece of metal but you felt tears forming in your eyes nonetheless. “I only want to help,” you cried quietly. Your voice breaking filled the empty room pitifully. “And you won’t let me!”

“You need to stop yelling at inanimate objects.” Your dad was leaning in the glass door frame of the lab repair center. You didn’t know how much of that he had seen but you, honestly, didn’t care. It’s not like he gave a damn about anyone’s emotions besides his own.  

“And you need to stop telling me how to live my life,” you sniffled before quipping, “but things never go as we want.” You turned back to stare at the glaringly shiny and undamaged piece of metal on the floor.

Your dad sighed. Oh boy, your waterworks were flowing… This was going to be harder than he thought. “There’s no sulking in this compound. If you want to be angsty, you have to check in with Barnes first.” He took a few strides into the lab.

“You should check in with me before you just decide to pull me out of missions but I can see tunnel vision runs in the Stark family and skipped a generation,” you gestured to yourself theatrically. You picked up a wrench and twisted it in your hand therapeutically. “I don’t get it… I just want to help.”

You looked at your dad with a puffy nose, red eyes, and tear-soaked lashes. Tony felt the pang in his heart at how similar you looked to your toddler self when you had watched your mother walk out the front door and never come back. That screaming match in particular between your parents had left your toddler psyche pretty emotionally raw and your mother leaving was the icing on the cake.

Tony gulped. He didn’t know what to say. He certainly had a reason for acting the way he did but he had know idea how to explain it to you. Or how to justify you never completing a mission. Because any sign of danger towards you, to him, was another way for one of the most important people in his life to be taken away from him.

“Well?” you snapped. “Nothing to say for yourself?”

“I think I was well justified in taking you out of the mission if you couldn’t even stand up, Tin Man!”

“I have the manual limb recalibration installed in my suit for this very reason, Dad! If you had just let me-!”

“‘Let you’ what? Manually recalibrate?” Your dad scoffed incredulously. “That takes 5 minutes to do! Do you think those HYDRA agents are going to wait 5 minutes for your suit to start up again and then fight you? Do you think they have an ounce of mercy or kindness for anyone?! For their enemies?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t turn this on them! I could have stayed in the mission!”

“No, you couldn’t have!” Tony was about this close to ripping his hair out.

“Yes, I could-”

“Not without getting killed, you couldn’t have!” He yelled. Tony threw his arms out, he had nothing else to give you besides that.

That got you silent. There were very few times in any given Stark’s life that rendered one speechless. This was one of those times for you. So this was what it was about?

His eyes watered. Tony hated it when you had to see him like this. You didn’t need to see him at his weak points. He had to be strong for you, as both a father and mother.

“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because the suit that I built for you failed you.”

“Dad…” your tone was no longer like a whip. “My suit is safe. You designed and built it. I only repair it after missions. This is your handiwork and yours alone.”

“You can’t put that much faith in me. I don’t even put that much faith in me.”

You shook your head at his stubbornness. “Well, maybe it’s time you did. Listen, machines will fail from time to time and-”

Your dad cut you off. “But that’s just it.” You pretended not to see his lip tremble a little bit. “Machines fail from time to time but the time that it does could mean the end for me… if you died.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” you took a deep breath as you stood across from him. “Machines fail from time to time and it sucks. But machinery failing is something that happens to the average engineer. And you’ve worked these systems personally. If there’s anything I know about your machinery, it’s that your work is high above average.” You grabbed one of his hands. “If you can make trillions of dollars on your successful inventions, then I trust a suit from the same successful designer. Especially my dad.”

Your dad pulled you into a hug. “Oh, kid…” he breathed. “You’re worth way more than trillions of dollars.”

“Believe me… I’m well aware.” You looked up at him.

He let out a deep breath, the top of your head crooked underneath his chin. “When you’re smarter than me, it makes me look bad.”

“Well, thank God it’s only you, me and FRIDAY here. You know,” you shrugged, “for your ego’s sake.”

The piece of metal glinted at you from the floor, reminding you of what you’d been working on before you and your dad had your heart-to-heart.

“So…” you prompted. “You’ll ease up a little on the missions… right?”

Your dad let out a reluctant groan. “Only if you can promise that you’ll leave a mission when it is no longer safe nor helpful for you to be there.”

You let out a sound similar to your dad’s. “Define ‘safe.’”

Your dad leaned back and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Okay, fine!” You put your hands up in surrender and stepped out of the hug to pick up the piece of armor off the floor.

With a few quick taps of your hammer the piece was secured. You even waited a few seconds and, much to your surprise, it held strong. And in place.

[jamest-kirk]

Can you do a mckirk prompt where there's some sort of transporter malfunction (because there's always is) and Jim is beamed aboard but can't be seen or felt, and everyone thinks he's dead and he can see and hear everything?

Jim doesn’t feel any different when he’s beamed back on board. Honestly, he feels fine. The two redshirts and Chekov, however, look pale and confused. “Where is Captin Kirk?” Chekov asks. “Here-” Jim starts, but he’s cut off by Scotty. “He should’ve beamed aboard with you lads,” he says. “I’m. Here,” Jim repeats, watching Chekov step off the platform and approach Scotty’s work station. Together, they seem to be focusing on trying to find him down on the planet they previously visited, and ignore all of Jim’s calls to them.  The two red shirts walk straight by him, too. So, he’s invisible? After exactly two seconds of sheer panic, Jim’s lips turn into a grin. He can at least have some fun with this.

Spock is on the Bridge when Jim arrives. The doors slide open for him, oddly enough, but the crew see no one arrive. Odd as that is, no one seems alarmed by it, as malfunctions happen quite regularly when Jim lets Scotty tinker freely on the ship. “Mr. Scott,” Spock speaks into the communicator, “please provide us a proper explanation when you tell me “I lost Kirk”. That’s impossible.“ Jim’s reaches out, a hand on Spock’s shoulder to startle him, but the other doesn’t seem to feel it at all.

Apparently the whole ship just loses it because they lost their captain, who’s mostly just fucking with Sulu’s and Spock’s workstations at this point. He’s trying to get a message across to Uhura for a while, too, hoping he can find a way to mess with the frequencies she listens to, but to no avail. “Captain Kirk was with us when we were beamed up,” Chekov says when Jim follows Spock to Scotty and the others. “I cannae pick him up on the scanners, sir,” Scotty says to Spock, who frowns ever so lightly when he’s stressed. “Send a search party down,” Spock says, “make sure to scan the surface again.” “Aye, sir,” Scotty says.

Jim strolls to medbay, hoping that somehow Bones can sense him. It’s all fun and games to be invisible, but the fun wears off really fast when Jim has this constant state of needing attention. This way, he’s not getting any. But Bones doesn’t see him at all. He doesn’t even know anything is wrong, because he’s working on the archives in med, and keeps himself occupied with that until Spock calls him over, too.

Everyone searches the surface all night. Spock doesn’t want to leave until they found him, which even surprises Jim because they’re on schedule, and it goes against the prime directive. Bones is on the surface, too, going around in an attempt to try and find his best friend. Jim wishes he could be beamed down again, but to no avail. 

“I retraced our steps,“ Scotty says to Spock and Bones when they’re back on the ship, “I can definitely see that we picked up Kirk when we beamed you up from that planet.” “But he isn’t here now, is he?” Bones counters. “Well, no. There was a malfunction in the transporter. His particles aren’t properly reattached.” “What does that mean?” Spock asks, “where is Jim now?” “Theoretically,” Scotty says, and he cringes a little while he speaks, “he just ceased to exist.” “Damn it, Scotty,” Bones calls out to him, “I didn’t bring Jim back from the dead just to have him leave again.” “I’m sorry, doctor,” Scotty says, “I cannae do more than this.”

It’s not true. Jim knows he still exists. The ship knows he still exists because it reacts to his presence. The doors to his quarters slide open just as it always did. If he tries hard enough, even certain buttons on his captain’s chair react to him, though it’s always too exhausting to actually send a message, no matter how hard he tries. But none of the humans seem to respond to anything. Not a touch of his hand or him calling -hell, even crying, screaming- out their names. The mood in the ship is at an all time low, too, and Jim feels just as bad. He follows Spock and Uhura for the longest time to try and draw their attention, but to no avail. They can’t stay at the planet longer, and so they leave, despite no one wanting to.

Bones is a whole different story. Bones is a mess. Jim’s never seen his reaction to Jim dying at the hands of Khan, but he can witness it again close up now. Bones just drinks himself to sleep and does the very same thing the next day. Doesn’t even show up for work. Spock doesn’t question it, just schedules him offline while Bones allows himself to wallow in self pity. Jim lies next to him, quietly watching his best friend go through hours of stupid footage they shot on the ship. Mostly Jim filming those short 5 second videos roaming the Enterprise’s hallways and praising literally every nook and cranny. Small shots of Bones and Jim drinking in the bar together, lots of footage of Bones calling out Jim for his erratic and idiotic behavior. Jim feels just as miserable as Bones looks, because he isn’t dead, but everyone treats him as such.

Bones is still a mess, but after the self pity doesn’t make him feel any better, he just kind of buries himself in work. And that’s when Jim gets an idea. Because Bones takes those long, steamy showers, and Jim reaches out for the foggy mirror in the bathroom. “I’m Here,” he writes on the mirror with his fingers, and then watches Bones step out of the water, drying himself off quietly. In any other situation, Jim would’ve found that distracting, but he’s too eager to watch Bones’ reaction. Bones wraps that towel around his waist and approaches the mirror, frowning at the fading message written down. Instead of questioning that, he just wipes it away with his hand and instead focuses on shaving. “God damn it, Bones,” Jim mutters under his breath.

He tries again the next time Bones showers. “Bones. Jim here.” he writes. That, at least, sparks Bones’ attention when he reads it. “Jim?” “Yes!” Jim calls out, realizing Bones can’t hear that. So he just draws a quick smiley on the mirror before that, too, fades. “You’re supposed to be dead,” Bones says, though Jim can hear the sheer relief in his voice. The foggy mirror is quickly clearing up, though, and so Bones turns on the faucet to hot, pretty much wasting his hot water. “Help?” Jim writes down, and Bones nods. “I’ll talk to Scotty and Spock.” Jim nods, realizing Bones can’t see that, and so Jim watches Bones get dressed and head out the door; following him closely.

Scotty figures it out after a few hours. Or so he thinks. Because Scotty’s technically not sure what even malfunctioned in the first place. They fix it by flying towards the nearest Class M Planet, and Bones and Spock beam down together, and Jim stands on his own platform, too. He’s beamed down with them, though that doesn’t seem to do the exact trick. The scanners do finally pick him up when he’s about to be beamed back up, and somehow being put together in an actual body after being invisible for a few days is not a painless process. Jim has a pounding headache when he opens his eyes, and he’s on the floor. Bones is kneeling down next to him, one of his ever-beeping machines pressed against his cheek. Spock is on his other side. “Are you okay?” Spock asks, and Jim nods. “I feel like I’ve been put through a blender.” “That seems like an accurate description of what happened,” Scotty says, and Jim huffs. Bones helps him stand up straight, though his knees still feel weak. “I’ll get you to your quarters,” Bones says, and Spock nods.

Jim groans when his back finally hits the mattress. Rather than letting Bones leave, though, he grabs his hand and pulls him down, too. "Thank you," Jim says, "now stay for a little while." "Fine," Bones says as though it's so much effort to do so. Jim rolls to his side, sliding an arm around Bones' waist, and smiling fondly as Bones raises his eyebrows. "I'm just glad you managed to figure it out," Jim says, and Bones shrugs. "I didn't do much. I thought you were dead." "That's true, you were even more miserable as when we first met," Jim points out, and Bones scoffs. "So not true." "I saw you watching my video recordings over and over again, Bones. There's no denying. You love me so much," Jim jokes, but Bones looks eerily serious. "I do," he says, and now Jim raises an eyebrow. "What-" "I do love you," Bones says, "I thought you were dead and it just wrecked me. I'm not even gonna lie about that." "You couldn't, because I saw. I was there. I spent the last few days with you," Jim points out, "I tried to hard to get that message across-" he's cut off when Bones leans in and kisses him. Maybe it's just that stress relief, maybe it's more than that. But Jim is happy to receive that, sliding his arms up to wrap them around his shoulders, keeping him close for a little while. "What I was trying to say," Jim continues when Bones pulls away, and he smiles fondly when the other rolls his eyes since Jim's still talking, "is that I love you too, Bones."