The Reason I Don’t Do Cold Readings Anymore…

by reddit user Skarjo

I don’t do ‘Cold Readings’ anymore. I don’t tell fortunes. I don’t read tea leaves.

And I do not do contact ‘the other side’.

Look, don’t judge me alright? It was an easy gig. I mean, the first time I did it, it was a joke. I did it just to impress a girl. You’ve been there right? It was something I’d read about online and I thought I’d give it a go.

Keep reading

Me Against You


A/N: I turned 18 today, on the 10th of April, and as a birthday treat, here’s an extra long chapter!! I wanted a date with Tom Holland for my birthday present, but needless to say, I did not get what I wanted. Someone please tell me that he’d love me as much as I loved him if we ever met in this lifetime. 

Warning: Angst, mentions of torture.

Everything happens quickly.

One moment you’re staring up at a wide expanse of blue sky, watching the jet disappear; the next, you’re surrounded by a group of soldiers rushing onto the scene in combat fatigues, pointing their guns at you.

Realization sends you backpedalling, but you run into something solid. You turn, already swinging, and nail one in the chin. He stumbles to the side and would have given you a clear shot to your friends, but three other soldiers take his place.

Before you realize what’s happening, a metal collar is snapped around your neck, sharp electrical pulses shooting through you. Suddenly, you can’t move, can barely breathe. Panic fills you, joining the adrenaline rushing through your veins, and your body isn’t sure how to react. Keep fighting, or shut down.

“W-What are they doing?” You hear Peter ask. You can’t see him, but he sounds scared. Panicked. “That’s a collar. Mr Stark, you said they were only going to talk to her!”

Stop it,” Agent Barton snaps. “That’s a child, not an animal, get that thing off!”

Keep fighting. Definitely keep fighting. The idea of sending your SAT scores to Attica instead of Cambridge is not appealing. You unleash it all with a scream. A plane explodes in a ball of fire, shaking the ground beneath your feet. Screams of terror fill your ears. The shock wave hits everyone within a hundred foot radius, knocking them backwards. You hit the ground hard, and a wave of pain sweeps over you.

“Run!” You try to shout, but only gurgles escape.

And then that familiar voice says your name, taut with pain.


It’s him.

“(Y/n),” Peter tries again.

You slowly lift your head up to stare at him.

He’d known what would happen. He’d done this. He’d betrayed you.

Peter’s scrambled to his feet now, hands outstretched, almost as if he wants to touch you, but can’t quite bring himself to.

With a feral scream, you launch yourself at him. You and Peter slam onto the ground, hard. Volts of electricity shoot through you, sharp and hot and carnivorous. You open your mouth to scream. Peter takes the opportunity to shove you off of him, shooting webs to pin your hands and feet to the ground.

(Y/n),” Peter manages. He sounds closes to tears now, his tone as tormented as his expression. “(Y/n), please, I’m your friend.”

You stare at him, your eye wild and feral-looking, your breath coming quicker and quicker from your parted lips. The pain is crashing over you in waves, the shocks making your muscles twitch and seize painfully, but you manage to raise your head, glaring at Peter with such soul-deep hatred that the blood turns to ice in his veins.

“We were never friends!” Your screams come one after another, scraping along your raw throat without pause. “I have always HATED you!”

For the third time that day, Peter recoils. He goes incredibly still, so still that you notice how his hands are trembling. He’s wearing a mask, but you know that his face is contorted in misery. There’s a quiet whoosh of air, followed by the sharp stab of pain in your arm. You can only stare at the small darts in your shoulder before blackness pulls you under.

“– How is she?” A male is saying. You recognize his voice. It makes you angry. Angry enough to force you out of your deep sleep, the only thing protecting you from feeling the pain in your body.

You blink, looking through eyes glassy from the strain they’ve endured. Tony Stark peers in through the glass window, looking at you as though you are a particularly interesting specimen under a microscope. Dark half-moons ring his eyes, and his arm is in a sling. You can’t find it in you to feel sympathetic for his injuries.

The anger magnifies, giving you strength. Strapped to the cot with metal shackles, you fight for freedom. Snarling like the very animal you might be becoming, you twist and buck, half-crazed eyes staring at him, wishing that you could do so much more than try to kill him with your eyes. All you receive for your trouble is another jolt of electricity. The bed shakes with the force of your shudders, the pain acute, gut-wrenching and soul-zapping. They’re going to kill you. How could they not? After a while, even your skin begins to vibrate and it doesn’t stop when the electricity does. Your bones feel brittle, as if they’re going to break at any second. Your lungs have to be filled with glass rather than air. Every breath is agony.

Tony Stark only looks at you again once your screams have stopped. His head droops. With shame? “The Spiderling wants to see you. You hurt him pretty bad.”

Good,” You snarl, surprised at the sound of your voice. You’ve shouted, but only a whisper can be heard. “Tell him I hate him and that I lied.”

Tony Stark closes his eyes, releasing a heavy breath. “He was doing the right thing.”

You raise your head to stare at him, eyes narrowed to angry slits. “No. He was doing what you asked him to.”

Tony Stark’s mouth opens and closes, and you know he’s searching for a response. When he finds none, he turned on his heel and marches out of the room.

“Good riddance,” Clint mutters.

Scott’s the first to recover, a curious edge to his voice. “What exactly did you lie about?”

You let your head droop back onto the pillow. “Having a good time,” You dead-pan, your eyes flickering up to the ceiling. “We went out a lot.”

Scott’s the first to snort in amusement. Slowly, the others join in, Clint and Sam snickering right along with him. It’s even enough to rouse a weak and rusty-sounding laugh out of Wanda, who’s been silent for the whole week that you’ve been stuck here.

It feels good to laugh. Even for only a moment.

You wake with wet cheeks, and a warm, calloused hand tapping at your face. You hope this doesn’t mean that the doctors are back to draw more of your blood; but the doctors at the Raft would never be that gentle with you.

(Y/n)? (Y/n), can you hear me?” The voice is pained, and you think you hear a muttered curse of, “Damn it, Tony.”

The pain is a constant throb in your head and limbs, you shouldn’t move; it will only make everything worse. Wincing, you crane your head up to see who has called your name. Blinking several times, you focus as hard as you can on the only face you can see. It is contorted with anger. His eyes are the palest blue you’ve ever seen, and remind you of clear summer skies and languorous lagoons. He’s not in the red and blue uniform, but in a plain grey hoodie, a white shirt and a pair of jeans. But you would recognize that face anywhere.

“Captain,” You croak weakly. “How was Russia?”

“Cold,” He answers wryly. “I prefer a warmer climate.”

He kneels, you hear the tinkle of metal being ripped apart, and your hands and legs are free. It’s difficult to move; fatigue has added weight to each of your limbs and your eyelids feel as if they’ve been replaced with sandpaper. Captain America helps you sit up, draping his hoodie over your shoulders.

“The collar now. Okay?” He offers you a calm and steady smile, his eyes warm and kind. “One, two –”

Quick as a flash, he grasps at the collar around your neck. Your fingers dig into your palms, gouging crescent shaped marks into soft flesh. Bracing yourself for an electric shock, you nod tersely, and he breaks it apart with his bare hands. You exhale in relief, smiling faintly and wanly at him.

“We’re getting out of here, (Y/n),” Captain America says, smoothing back soaked and matted hair away from your forehead. “Everyone’s waiting in the jet.”

You’re unable to support your own weight; he has to half-carry, half-drag you for several paces at your insistence that you can walk. When what little strength you have drains out of you, you crumple into a heap on the floor. He gives up the charade of allowing you to walk on your own and unceremoniously lifts you up off the floor and into his arms, as if you weigh nothing more than a feather. Your head lolls against his chest as he carries you out of your cell. An alarm erupts, screeching through the empty room.

“I was mean to him,” You confess groggily, your voice strained. “Very, very mean.”

Him. That kid with the webs?” Captain America bends down, and rips a badge off the neck of an unconscious guard. “The one from Queens?”

“He’s called Peter Parker,” You confirm, tears springing into your eyes. “He’s got the warmest brown eyes, and the nicest brown hair. He’s funny, he’s smart, he’s nice. He always got picked on by Flash Thompson, but Peter never let Flash bully me. He’s – well, was – my best friend.”

“I’m sorry,” Captain America apologises, the pain naked in his voice. “I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in this. Tony shouldn’t have –”

You close your eyes on a pained sigh. “Tony Stark is responsible for many things. But he didn’t make me shove Peter out a window, or into a concrete wall. I did those. Me. I’m a horrible person.”

Captain America uses the badge to open the door to the hallway. The two of you enter a long, narrow, passage that you’re relieved to find is empty. Maybe he’s disabled all the guards already. You can only hope. You’re tired of fighting, of having to use your powers. All you want to do is curl up in a ball and fall asleep.

“Believe me, I’ve seen a lot of horrible people. You’re not one of them.”

It doesn’t make you feel any better. You close your eyes against the pounding in your head. “I said I hated him. I hurt him, really bad. Peter hates me now.” And I don’t blame him.

Down the hall. Around a corner. Another hall, another corner. In the stairwell, your breathing and footsteps echo off the walls. But these are the only sounds. No one is following the two of you. Others will be here soon, though. You’re certain the alarm’s already been reported to Ross, wherever that monster is.

A pained groan slips past your lips as Captain America carries you up, up the steps. As fatigued as you are, as undernourished, as wounded, your trembling seems to magnify with every new inch of ground the two of you gain. He opens the door to the landing pad, and you see the jet you’d helped to hijack sitting right in the middle of it.

It’s dark outside. Frigid air envelopes you, worse because you’re in thin prison clothes, with only a hoodie draped over your skinny frame. The cold sea breeze whips hair around your face, and, you think, slices at your skin. You huddle closer to Captain America, exhaustion glazing your moon-soaked features.

“Hold on,” Captain America says pleadingly, and you hear the worry in his voice as he practically sprints for the jet. “There’s a first aid kit in the jet. You’re going to be fine.”

Sam yanks the door closed as soon as the two of you are on the jet, strapped in and ready to go. Without a hitch, you’re shooting across the dark sky. Bucky turns, sympathy written in his eyes. He’s been through some horrible things, too. Wanda is curled up by Clint’s side, her face gaunt and her eyes closed. Scott’s already asleep, snoring like a jackhammer in the seat by the window.

“What if he hates me?” A sob escapes you, a testament to the still-fraying rope holding back your emotions. It won’t last much longer now. “Peter hates me, I hate me, I’m –”

(Y/n), do you want to know what I think?” Captain America asks kindly, kneeling down to look into your red-rimmed eyes, brimming with tears. He clasps your hands in his. It feels as though you’re holding the full blazing sun in your small palms, his so hot and yours so cold. “I have heard nothing but positives about Peter Parker. If this guy is as good a person as you seem to think he is, then I’m willing to bet he’ll forgive you when you apologize.”

Your chin trembles, a fresh round of tears threatening to fall. You lean forwards, pressing your face into his shoulder, and there is a sudden, hollow silence.

gaysails  asked:

(silverflint with 24 if you're still taking prompts xo)

Well Molly. Here you go. I hope you enjoy these idiots.

Prompt. 24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Late s3. Intimate non-sexual touching and Silver freaking out abound.

For all that he routinely called himself a coward, there were only a handful of times in his life that Silver had truly felt afraid. There was that incident with the iron brand as a child; that tussle with the navy man twice his size as a teen. Both had ended badly, in different ways. Then there was that frigid winter at the orphanage. The spring that followed; flowers growing out of the disturbed ground. All of it tasted like fear when Silver allowed himself to recall them, but they were foggy and distant. Old aches, long-healed bones shivering with the rain.

Then there was the leg. The doldrums. Those were bright. He could still taste blood in his mouth some days.

Then there was now, standing over Flint with a knife in his hand.  

This felt somehow different to all the rest.

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In The Arms of Sleep (Bucky x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Bucky’s had nightmares before, and usually the comfort of his lover is the only thing he needs to relax. But when he accidentally hurts you, even just slightly, during one of his fits, Bucky begins to think that maybe youwould be better off without him. You seem to think otherwise. Based on “In the Arms of Sleep” by Smashing Pumpkins.

Word Count: 2,117

Warnings: None, unless gratuitous fluff counts.

And I’ll always need her more than she could ever need me

3:04 AM, New York.

The windows were open, letting the night breeze drift across the hardwood floor. The moonlight danced through the sheer curtains, splaying across the bed and the smooth cream walls. Aside from the soft sound of the fabric dancing slowly on the floor, the room was silent. Even the sounds of the city had died away. The bedroom door was open, just a crack, enough that you could slip back inside when you were ready.

The bathroom light buzzed when you flicked it on, your eyes squinting against the light. You blinked at your reflection, taking in the smears of eyeliner at the corners of your eyes and the now messy curls around your face. Only a few hours ago, there had been red lipstick on your mouth and a diamond necklace around your neck. Steve’s birthday party had been a formal event, and you had been more than eager to dress up for the event. Now, the necklace was on the bedside table and the lipstick was smudged on the face of your lover in the next room. You smiled to yourself at the thought. He was sleeping, soundly, for what must be the first time in ages.

You turned on the sink, the sound of water filling up the silence and echoing off the tile walls. You took off the streaks of eyeliner and tried to brush out the mess of hair, used the restroom, and paused to look at the red spot on your neck. You wore it like a trophy, like the skewed tank top and even more disheveled underwear. You didn’t bother fix them, intending to crawl right back in bed with him.

A noise startled you and you froze, hand covering your throat. For a moment, you thought someone was trying to break in, until you realized the noise came not from the living room, but from the bedroom. Moving slowly, you left the bathroom light on and started back down the hall. Through the cracked door, you saw him rolling in the bed. Your heart was heavy as you came back into the room, the floor cold under your feet.

“Bucky?” Your voice bounced back at you. He couldn’t hear you, not in this state. You stood just next to the bed, watching with concern. This didn’t happen as often as it used to, but no matter how many times you saw him thrashing around, you couldn’t stop the tears prickling at your eyes. He called out, an incoherent yell, throwing punches at an invisible enemy. “Bucky!”

He didn’t hear, tangled up in the sheets. His hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks with sweat, the sheets wrapped about his bare chest. He must have felt like he was strapped down to the bed, unable to move, and you imagined that his nightmare was more or less a memory of what they did to him. You came closer, reaching out to grab the sheet so that you could loosen them; to help him breathe, to help him remember that he was free.

Your hand wrapped around the sheet and you spoke again, this time your motherly instincts taking over: “James, wake up.”

In the same moment, his eyes shot open, staring up at the ceiling. His hand wrapped around your forearm, gripping tight, too tight. A gasp escaped his mouth, as though bursting from the depths of Mariana’s trench, and his chest heaved. You gasped too, surprised but not in pain, and slowly, he came to and realized what was happening. His hand let you go and he sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. His eyes opened and closed over and over as he caught back up with reality, and you moved your arm out of the way, but otherwise sat perfectly still, watching and waiting.

You didn’t ask. You never did, and that was one of the reasons he loved you. All the nightmares he’d ever had, the ones that were real and the ones that never could be, but haunted him nonetheless, you never once asked him to tell you about them. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear them, or that you couldn’t, no. You knew, as well as he did, that if he needed to talk about it, he would. And you’d listen without a word, and that would be the end of it. He never told you, because he was afraid you wouldn’t be able to bear it. Hell, he couldn’t handle it most of the time. That was a burden he would never put on you. He and Steve talked about it sometimes- Steve had his own demons. But he couldn’t do that to you.

He finally opened his eyes and found your face in the dark. You were watching him too, a sad look in your eyes. Your eyes sparkled with tears, and you had already wiped your face dry while he was recovering. His eyes took in all the details of your form to remind himself that, yes, you’re here. Yes, it’s real. Yes, he’s safe. At home. In bed. With you. The freckles on your nose and cheeks. The tangles of hair falling over your shoulders. The love bite on your throat (had he done that? Of course he had, who else?) The curve of your collar bone, the tops of your breasts, your shoulders, your arms-

“I hurt you.” His voice was hoarse, and he licked his lips. He felt his own tears starting and buried his palms in his eyes, trying to push them- and the shadows of his nightmares- away. You shifted on the bed, closer, and your hands wrapped around his wrists to pull his arms away from his face. He made eye contact with you, then, and you were smiling sadly.

“I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s okay.” You murmured quietly, and he looked at the place where he’d grabbed you. The skin was a bit red, like a sunburn, but otherwise unharmed. “It could have been worse.”

“It might be, next time.” His voice cracked. He could tell he imagined the worst: breaking your arm, throwing you into the wall. Killing you in his sleep and waking up, only to find your body broken and bleeding on the bedroom floor. “I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t stop it then, the tears that slipped out and ran down his face. You took his face in your hands, wiping them away. You were practically in his lap now, your nose inches from his.

“I’m not afraid of you.” You whispered into the dark. You sat directly on his lap, legs on either side of him. He’d had nightmares before, and woken alone, in the darkness and quiet. But when you were there, watching him from your side of the bed, it was so much easier to pull you close to him, bury his nose in your hair and watch you drift back to sleep. He’d dealt with everything alone before, but this was different.

“You should be.” He breathed. “You deserve a normal life.”

“A normal life?” You repeated with a breathy laugh. “I met you because one of my best friends is Captain America. All of my friends are superheroes, Bucky. ‘Normal life’ isn’t in my vocabulary.”

“I could kill you.” The sharpness and volume of his voice startled you, and you leaned back, away from him. You looked at him then and he felt his heart break.

“You won’t.” You shook her head and he took your hands, removing them from his face, trying to create distance. He wanted you closer, he wanted you to hold onto him the way you always did. To lie down with tangled legs and your arms around him, offering him the safety net he’d come to rely on. But he couldn’t- not now. How selfish he’d been, forcing you to care for him and keep him safe from his own mind, when he couldn’t even keep you safe from himself.

“I might.” He asserted. He let go of you, then, resolving not to touch you again. He might break you in two. “I can’t control it when I’m sleeping, you know that.”

“So what?” Your voice was harsh, and it was his turn to be surprised. “I don’t care, I’m not leaving you. That’s what you’re implying, right?” Hurt filled your expression then, and Bucky was lost for words, staring at you. “Well suck it up. I’m not going anywhere. Just because you’re scared-“

“Of course I’m scared.” His tone cut you like a knife, but neither of you moved. He’d already removed you from his lap, though neither of you really seemed to notice it happening, and now the air between you was thicker than blood. “Don’t you understand? I’m dangerous. I killed people-“

“No, you didn’t.” You practically shouted and a tear escaped your eyes. Bucky resisted the urge to wipe it away. “They did. They used you. You’d never hurt anyone. I know you. And I’m not afraid.”

“Well you should be.” Bucky closed his eyes, wiping his hand across his face. He felt you move back toward him then, and he didn’t fight it. You crawled back into his lap, arms around his neck and forehead pressed to his, ignoring the sweat that still clung to his skin.

You were warm, almost overbearingly so, but he ignored it and wrapped his arms around your waist. You had made up her mind ages ago, when you told him that first time that you loved him and, since then, he could do nothing to push you away. It didn’t matter how many times he’d done things that would make a normal person piss their pants and run away, tail between their legs. You always sat, still, watching and waiting. You were always there to scare away the demons, to wave off the nightmares, to kiss away the pain. And Bucky knew you always would be.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed.

“I’m not.” You answered.

Bucky opened his eyes, staring straight into yours. He could pick out the different colors, swirling in front of him like a kaleidoscope. His hand- the metal one, the one that haunted him day and night, the reminder of what he’d lost- reached up and grasped the back of your head gingerly. He wished, God he wished, he could feel your hair between his fingers, or the curve of your neck. There were certain things he could feel: pressure in his hand. Something moving along the surface of the metal. But he couldn’t feel the softness of your skin, or the warmth it radiated. Your hair can’t tickle his palm. It made him sad, to think about it that way. Sure, he had another hand, he could easily reach up and tuck that loose strand behind you ear (and he did, after a moment.) It just wasn’t the same. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care about the things he’d done. You didn’t care about the metal arm or the blank stares when he let his mind wander, or constantly comforting his nightmares. You didn’t care, because those weren’t the things that made Bucky Barnes.

You leaned to the side, your lips barely touching the lobe of his ear. Your breath was hot on his neck. His metal hand at the back of your head caught the moonlight, a shimmering wave of silver in the otherwise dark room. “I love you.” You whispered. There weren’t a lot of things Bucky trusted anymore. He’d been lied to, been manipulated, and he knew better than to believe everything he was told. But he knew, beyond everything else, this was true.

Your lips pressed against his jaw, and he felt his breathing relax. Your chest pressed against his, and when you moved so that you could capture his mouth with yours, he felt the nightmares melt away. Your left hand slipped into his right, palm to palm, and he thanked God he could still feel it. The sweat-soaked sheet and skewed underwear that separated you was quickly gone. He didn’t let your hand leave his the whole time, not once, gripping to you for life.

When it was over, your legs tangled with his. Your arm wrapped around his chest, the other in between your bodies. He held you, close, burying his nose in your hair. He breathed you in as you fell asleep, and when he joined you in sleep, he dreamed of red lipstick, a diamond necklace, and the woman who was not afraid.

Cause I want you to stay, with me
I need you tonight.

Medics log

AHHH ok so as with most things I write I kinda went over board? This was just gonna be a little thing, maybe a few paragraphs, but I got really into writing the character so it’s pretty long!! I hope it’s not too ooc, I’m pretty out of it right now so I’m not sure how well I really represented the character… but I hope you like it!!
Also I know some of the details about rank labels/titles are incorrect, but I don’t have the spoons to go on a bender looking for obscure Star Trek trivia right now… also it wouldn’t make sense for them to use last names so I just switched it to first. I’m using Alex as a placeholder name for anx, since we don’t know his real name yet.
Expect some poly sanders in the future, and it’s there if you squint, but Im keeping it ambiguous… for now 👀
Blood, wound mentions, death mention (very brief, and no character actually dies), insect mention, reptiles, medical operations, sarcasm.

Medics log. Stardate…. who cares. First medical officer Alex reporting.

I have another excitement filled report about how I am trapped on a ship full of idiots! I really… really wish it was less exiting. Do you know what alien garbage monster I got to pull out of a flesh wound today? A lizard. First Officer Logan will tell you it’s a flagogis- flagogas- whatever, but it looks like a lizard, eats bugs like a lizard, and tried to bite me, so it’s a lizard. Unsurprisingly, the idiot it was attached to was our chief engineer. Just like the man-eating plant last week. And the spider thing the week before that. And the- you know what. It’s in the record. I’m not going over it again.

Look. This is why I don’t go planet side anymore. And why I didn’t go into space before that! Yes, lets fling Alex into a depressing, deadly vacuum on a tin can maintained by and emotional baby, flown by an egomaniac, and run by a teacher pet! Great idea, star fleet! A++ thinking there, pal! What’s that, can’t come back for five years? Good! Just what the doctor ordered! Except it isn’t! Because I’m the doctor! And this was exactly the opposite of what I wanted!

Speaking of being a doctor. I should actually finish my report…
Initial surveys of the planet informed that while potentially dangerous, it had the appropriate level of oxygen for a planet side mission. Since it didn’t seem to have any established sentient life, Captain ‘Operatic’ sent an away team of First Officer Logan, Ensign Adams, (who would have been much more useful in the med bay as a nurse, instead of where they are now, in the med bay as a patient, but I’m just the guy keeping you from dying so who cares what I say,) and Chief Engineer… I Still don’t know his name. I looked at his file. It literally says Officer Dad. I have no idea how he did it.
Anyways. I did my best to tell Captain Romance that that was a horrible idea, this was a horrible planet, and that it would be much better to fly off into the distance to the nearest alliance base and have them run at least five more scans on the local wildlife. Yknow. Or however many scans it takes to convince me that nothing that lives on that planet will be living on, in, or around my crew when we leave.
That reminds me. The lizard is fine. The idiot I pulled it out of insisted I name it. I told him it’s name is lizard. He suggested Brian, and kept making puppy dog eyes at me… Brian is a stupid name. I’m calling him Harold. But only because he tried to bite the captain. Nothing else… and no one needs to know that. These logs are private until the end of the mission. And I will have run away and become an alien goat herd by then. Probably.

Right. Back to the disaster of the hour. First Officer Logan got the Captain on his side, through “sound reasoning”. Sure. If that’s what you call having someone wrapped so tightly around your finger that it cuts off blood flow. He gets so dorky about new ecosystems. I generally get stuck on the “could kill you” thing. Bit of a deal breaker for me. But not the Captain. His deal breaker was that there was no possibility of a heroic rescue of attractive alien species that no man has ever romanced before! God. He could break the prime directive 8 times just by looking at it. Speaking of breaks… (great morbid segway there, Alex, how very cheerful of me…)

To summarize the mission ended predictably; with about eleven stitches to the chief of engineering’s leg who I am not calling ‘dad’ unless by gun point. Then I’d consider it. Maybe. Luckily ensign Adams only has a mild concussion. I’ll keep an eye on him for a few days, the put him back to work. The engineering team better have a good back up, because I’m keeping Officer Idiot here to see if any of the lizard bites are poisonous. My initial scans didn’t find anything recognizable, but I’m nothing if not thorough…

I’m also putting in a request to pull him from planet side duty. The way today went… he could have died. He knew it, too. I’m pretty blunt about those things, and even he knew that a wound that big means trouble. But he just kept… talking… to the lizard. Trying to keep it from being scared. Of course it was scared… hell, I was scared. He should have been freaking out too. But he kept coaxing it, calling it nicknames, trying to tell it everything would be ok… *ahem*
The point is, he’s going to get himself killed. And we need the ship to keep running. So. I medically recommend that Officer…. “Dad”… not be reinstated for active duty planet side… no matter how many times he says please.
Head Medical Officer Alex, signing off.

2000 followers woop!

I haven’t been very active on here lately due to stress and stuff, so this milestone completely went over my head. This blog will continue to run on queues until further notice, but I hope you’ll enjoy your stay nonetheless. Couldn’t think of a clever picture to add so, here’s me last year, doing my best impression of captain sunflower. Anyway thanks!

  • Steve: I'll always do what's right! Unless doing what's right means I can't do whatever the hell I want, disregarding the lives of thousands so that I can help my best friend.
  • Captain America Fans: Seems legit!
  • Tony: I became Iron Man because I realized that doing whatever the hell you want without consequences can hurt a lot of people, so I will always do what's right; even if it means I have to accept limitations.
  • Captain America Fans: Asshole!!! Insensitive!!! Jerk face!!!
Unified Blades

Captain Klinge bowed towards King Ganondorf and Queen Zelda. He had been summoned by Lord Ghirahim to go before the Master.

Ganondorf was the first to speak. “Captain Klinge, leader of my Iron Guard, we have summoned you here for a special assignment.”

Queen Zelda then spoke in union. “We have reports of undead attacking a settlement within Hyrule’s borders. You are to lead a mixed unit of my soldiers and Ganondorf’s to quell this threat.”

Captain Klinge raised his head. “I am sure my own unit can deal with any threat on its own.”

Ganondorf shot the Darknut a fiery glare. “Captain, given your history and long service under me I will give you the benefit only most would dream of from me this one time. A verbal warning. Zelda is my Queen and Wife. She will be addressed with the same amount of respect and rank as me. You will not question her again.”

Klinge remained silent for moment, than bowed his head again. “…Forgive me for my ill manners…my Queen.”

“The purpose of having a unit like this is to see how well our armies can perform together. You will be the first of your kind. Ganondorf assures me as one of his best knights you are qualified to lead this new type of squad. Can you?”

“I can your majesty.”

“Then you are dismissed. Select your troops from the barracks and move out immediately.”

Klinge rose and looked at Zelda dead in the eye. After a moment he took a final bow, and left the throne room. Zelda turned to her husband with a worried look in her eyes. “Such hate. Are you sure he’s the best qualified?”

“I chose Klinge because of the hate in him. This is a test not only for our armies, but for him. I need to know if he can silence or at least redirect his hatred in service of Hyrule, instead of against it. Some of my soldiers willingly fought for me over the years, with causes of their own. Klinge was one of these people.”

“And if he can’t keep it in check?”

Ganondorf took a sigh. “Then he will be considered a traitor and we will have no choice but to end his life. However, I hope it doesn’t come to that. I already had to weed out some individuals in my army, and I would hate to lose one of my best soldiers.”


Captain Klinge rode on horseback. Behind him were three Hyrulian Soldiers, an armoured Moblin on a war boar, and a Dinolfos. The three Hyrulian soldiers whispered amongst themselves, weary of the beasts they rode with.

“I can’t believe this. Why do three noble knights have to ride with monsters?”

“Quiet Karkas. Do you want to be heard?”

“Well I speak the truth Samson. To the right of us is a demon pig, and the left a barbaric lizard.”

“Well our leader seems human enough.”

“You kidding me O’Neal? He massive! And why doesn’t he have any weapons on him. He’s probably a giant that just beats his enemies to death with his fists.”

“I heard his units are souls in suits of armour.”

“I heard they are dog men, Ganondorfs canine unit.”

“I heard-“, Karkas was about to speak when all three Hyrulians noticed Captain Klinge was positioned right in front of them.

“Go one. I was enjoying your theories about me. What other cute ideas do you have?”

Karkas was the first to reply. “We just wanted to know what you Iron Knuckled freaks were actually underneath your-“



“I am called a Darknut.”

O’Neal was curious. “What’s the difference…sir?”

Klinge was a little surprised that the Hyrulian had followed protocol on addressing him as a superior. “Well I suppose if we are going to work together I should share some basic history with you.”

The unit resumed its patrol to the settlement. “Darknuts and Iron Knuckles have a long history serving Ganondorf. The earliest Darknuts were formed from the ranks of knights that deserted Hyrule or skilled swords masters. Most of us were human. Over time though, many of us were transformed into beasts or demons. Very few could keep their humanity.”

Samson spoke up. “What about you?”

“I have lived for many generations, serving Ganondorf for more than one lifetime. I’ll leave it to your imagination as what I had to do to keep myself whole.”

The three Hyrulians had chills go through out their bodies. Captain Klinge continued.

“Now a days, Iron Knuckles aren’t too different from Darknuts, they are just classified as the special weapons and armour units. However, long ago Iron Knuckles served Ganondorf very closely. And they were only made up of the finest Gerudo Warriors.”

Captain Klinge then turned to face the human soldiers. “But thanks to your people, the Gerudo had been nearly wiped out to extinction. There will probably never be an original Iron Knuckle for generations, if ever again.”

Karkas scowled. “Please, the Gerudo were thieves and killers. A tribe that is best forgotten.”

Samson yelled at his comrade. “Karkas! Hold your tongue.”

Klinge got right in front of Karkas. “Would you like to see one of my weapons?”

Karkas looked at Klinge, but still held a face of defiance. “What?”

“I overheard you asking were my weapons were. On rare occasions, Iron Knuckles were trained in magic that could summon armour and weapons to them at the snap of a finger. I have mastered this type of magic. Now I will ask again, would you like to see my weapons.”

Karkas just stared at the Darknut. The armoured giant towered over him. Sweat dripped down his face. O’Neal then just whispered to Karkas urgently, “Just apologize Karkas, now!”

Karkas looked down in defeat. “I’m sorry for my words…sir.”

Captain Klinge looked down on the soldier. He desperately wanted an excuse to slice him in half. “Very well, apology accepted sergeant.”

The Dinolfos then walked up to the Captain. “Sir, we have visual on a barn ahead. I smell lumber and death.”

“Very good Foom. Alright soldiers, move out with weapons drawn. Be vigilant or be dead.”


The six soldiers tied their horses and boars to some trees and moved in on foot towards the lumber mill. Captain Klinge ordered with a wave of his hand for Samson and the Moblin to take the front. He then had Karkas and the Dinolfos take the rear, while he and O’Neal took the centre. The six moved towards the barn doors. The closer they got the more the scent of decay became apparent.

“Golban, knock the door open.”

The Moblin did as he was told.  When the doors flew open the unit was greeted to the sight of countless Redead. Some were busy eating animals and farmers that lay inside. Others took notice to the fresh meat that came before them and rushed the unit.

“Golban, Samson, get those doors closed! The rest of us, don’t let a single one of those corpses leave here alive!” Golban thrust his spear into a Redead and rushed for the left door, Samson running for the right.

The Dinolfos and Karkas rushed the horde, desperate to keep them away from the doormen. With a snap of his finger, Captain Klinge summoned a massive greatsword. It was big even for Darknut standards. With a single swing, he chopped about eight Redead in half, flinging body parts everywhere.  He then looked at O’Neal.

“There are too many of them, but they are slow. O’Neal, light a bolt on fire and shoot it into the hay!”

O’Neal did as she was commanded. She drew her crossbow and shot into barn. The hay immediately was set on fire. Redeads screamed as they caught a flame. Golban and Samson then manage to shut the doors and lock it back up.

“No, my army!”

The unit turned to see two humans. They wore thick black and had books in their hands. Klinge recognized them immediately for what they were.

“Necromancers, I will give only one chance to surrender. Failure to comply will lead to your death, I can assure you. ”

The Necromancers response was to chant a summoning ritual from their books. Klinge gestured an order of attack. From the ground Stalfos, Redead, and Redead Knights came from the ground. A Redead Knight brought it’s sword down upon the Moblin. Golban had no time to react, and had his stomach sliced open. Redead scrambled to eat him.

With furious anger at the loss of one of his soldiers, Klinge swung his greatsword with so much force his slice went through the zombies, and shattered the Redead Knights sword, while it was blocking, cutting the creature into two.

Foom the Dinolfos was engaged with two Stalfos. His thick armour glanced off blows from the skeletons, but it was hard to penetrate the skinless monsters defensives. Meanwhile O’Neal and Samson were making their way to the Necromancers, but were stopped by Redead. The zombies rushed the two soldiers, pushing them back. From the rear Karkas tried to ambush the Necromancers, but a Redead Knight noticed him and screamed. Karkas found himself paralysed by fear. The Knight slowly lifted its blade.

“No. Why can’t I move?” Karkas’s sword shook in his hands. From the corner of his eye, he saw that the Redead had pushed O’Neal and Samson into a corner. The Dinolfos had three more additional Stalfos attack him. Karkas saw the Redead Knight about to kill him. “Oh God, no-“

The Redead Knights blow was then deflected by Captain Klinge. The creature relied back. The Captain snapped a glance at Karkas.

“Well are you just going to stand there gawking?”  

Karkas snapped back to reality and stabbed his sword through the Redead Knights face. With a quick gesture of his blade he decapitated the creature.

The Necromancers were scrambling through their books, looking desperately for a spell that could help them. “Goddamn it”, said one of them, “where is that Dead Hand spell?”

Before he could find it he felt a presence before them. He looked up to see black armour right in front of him, and the aura of pure death over took him. With no time for the first Necromancer to react, except pure fear in his eyes, Captain Klinge brought his sword down, splitting his victims head into two, and then some.

He turned to the second Necromancer who screamed in terror. She dropped her book and got on her hands and knees. Upon dropping the book the surrounding dead lost their lives, and fell to the ground, nothing more than corpses.

Captain Klinge turned to his soldiers. “What’s the status of everyone?”

The rest of the soldiers took a moment to catch their breath. Foom hissed and took a smell of the air. “Everyone except Golban is alive. I smell wounds on two of the humans, but they should be fine.”

O’Neal came forward. “Samson and I took a few scratches. Redead attacks aren’t infectious are they?”

“No, they’re not.” Klinge then turned towards the surviving Necormancer. “As for you…”

The Necromancer was paralysed with fear. Klinge continued. “Is there anymore of you?”



Klinge lifted his blade. Samson quickly came forward. “Sir, I’m not questioning your judgement, but she surrendered, is it necessary to kill her?”

“If she were a regular bandit perhaps not. But Necromancers are too dangerous to be kept alive. If she has the chance she could increase her skills to summon whole armies, plagues, or even demons. Her death IS necessary.”


Klinge shot Samson a glare. Even with a helmet covering his face, Samson got the message. Karkas came forward to comfort Samson from Klinge. “Our Captain has spoken Samson, he has a point. We might not like it, but we have to follow orders.”

The Necromancer looked at Klinge with tears swelling in her eyes. “Hylian dog. Get it over with.”

“I am not Hylian. And with what you did to all these farmers, consider yourself lucky that I give you a quick and painless death.” Klinge lifted his sword.

The Necromancer noticed someone running towards them from the corner of her eye. That’s when a new type of fear, even greater than her own death creeped in. “LEERE, STAY BACK!”


Captain Klinge could not stop his swing and brought his sword down upon the woman, killing her instantly. He turned to see a little girl, with tears falling down her face. She ran towards one of the necromancers books. Before she could grab it, Samson grabbed her from behind and held onto her.

“Let go of me you monster. LET GO!”

She grabbed a knife from her back pocket and stabbed it into Samson’s leg. Samson closed his teeth together and threw the knife out. The girls kept screaming and struggling until all she had left was the energy to cry.

Captain Klinge snapped his sword back into the void. He just starred at the child. Judging by her appearance she had to be about the same age as Queen Zelda’s daughter. The child’s predicament started to bring back some darker memories to Klinge.

“Sir, are you alright?”

Klinge turned to see O’Neal at his side. He sighed. “The mission was a success. You, Samson, and Karkas proved yourselves quite well in combat alongside the King’s forces, and we put an end to a dangerous threat. However…”

Klinge looked at the child. “This was not expected. The girl no doubt was raised to be a necromancer herself by what I can only assume were her parents here.”

“What should we do with her?” The way O’Neal asked she was honestly not sure what the Captain’s response would be.

“We will not kill a defenceless child. I will discuss the fate of the girl with the Queen and King. The meantime, bind her. She has proven quite dangerous with a blade. We’ll take her to the castle dungeon, maybe in time she can grow past this incident and her parent’s teachings.”

Klinge knew very well it would take a long time to do so, if she ever would. The hate he had for Hyrule he knew this girl was now feeling as well.

“Very well sir.”

Klinge looked at the burning barn house. This would have been a completely satisfying day, if not for that little girl. He then walked back to his horse.


Captain Klinge finished his report to the Queen and King. Zelda seemed troubled.

“That is a tragedy regarding the little girl. I am sure you didn’t mean to kill her parents in front of her.”

“No, your majesty. I am not a devil.”

Ganondorf came forward. “Zelda and I will discuss the fate of this girl; Leere was it, on our own. As for you, Captain.” Ganondorf summoned a sword. Klinge held his postiton. If he had failed his master then so be it.  Klinge was ready to accept his death when Ganondorf brought his sword down on his shoulder.

“According to the reports of the other soldiers, you lead them to a swift and decisive victory. You even went out of your way to protect the Hyrulian soldiers. I’m impressed. Can you tell me why?”

“They were my soldiers. Every soldier under my command is another blade under my care, and there for an extension of me. It is my responsibility to make sure they leave every battlefield alive.”

Ganondorf gave Klinge a lighthearted laugh. “Good! That is all the reason I need to go through with this. Klinge, for your services for the kingdom of Hyrule, I knight you to the rank of Commander. You are charged with the tasks of training new units, being a key military leader, and are in charge of the official new Royal Guard. You will answer only to me, Queen Zelda, Lord Ghirahim, and High General Impa. Any questions?”

Impa. Klinge remembered his humiliating defeat at the hands of the ninja. He had to take over an hour to drag himself out of Lake Hylia. He then looked at Ganondorf in the eyes and simply replied, “No, my King.”

“Then rise.”

Commander Klinge did as he was commanded, and bowed towards his leaders. Leaving, he wondered if fighting for his master was enough to quell the hatred he had for the natives of this land. He had fought along some great warriors, but his feelings for these people had not fully changed. And worse, he bred the same hatred he felt in that little girl. At least she was still human. Maybe she could have a chance to change, where he could not.

Little Family

Title:Their Little Family
Warnings:Civil War Spoilers! Swearing. Fluff. Pairings:Female!Reader/Steve Rogers,/Tony Stark                               Author’s Note”This the first time I am writing action and Tony,so please forgive me if I am wrong. Constructive criticism is appreciated.


“Tony!“A scream echoed throughout the empty base in Siberia. Y/N jumped down the small iron sheds, that were built into wall like stairs,to reach where the fight was taking place. Her heart beat was fast, and blood rushed through her veins, as she thought what they might be doing to each other. By they she meant,Steve,Tony and Bucky. She hoped to God they hadn’t killed each other by the time she reached down. She was no super-soldier who could just jump down and survive. nor she had a flying suit of armor in which she could fly down.Even though she was a well trained assassin almost equal to the ranks of Natasha Romanoff, she was still human. So of course it took time to climb down a few hundred feet.

When she reached the lowest shed there were still a few feet left. Uh oh I am gonna have to jump, she thought. Y/N hated jumping, whether it was jumping up in the air or whether it was from the roof of one building to another.What if she missed? What if the law of Physics actually worked on her. and gravity pulled her down? A pancake. A human pancake is what she would be. This was one of her worst fears. How it originated in her mind she never knew. "Please don’t break a bone. Please don"t break a bone."Y/N whispered to herself and she jumped. "Yay!” She congratulated herself when she landed safely.

Y/N’s eyes widened in fear as she witnessed what was happening infront of her. Bucky and Steve were lashing out on Tony. This made no sense to her. Tony and Steve had been family for a few years now. They were teammates,practically best friends and even lived together. None of this was any of their fault. So why were they blaming it on each other? If anyone it should be the government they should blame? Y/N thought to her self.

Suddenly Tony blasted one of his repulsor beams at Cap. He flew back hitting the wall behind him rather hard. Cap immediately got up prepare to fight when he caught site of Y/N. “Its better to not get involved Y/N. This a fight that needs to be in between us."Steve said tilting his head,with his hands fisted and in front of him in defense. "Oh you got me involved when you teamed up against my best friend Captain,I don’t care anymore. He is the only family I have and you can be damn well sure that I will ALWAYS DEFEND HIM” And with that Y/N lunged at Steve. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins,all she wanted to do was protect Tony right now.

Steve was the first one to throw a punch. But Y/N defended it with her other hand she jabbed the Captain in the ribs,before grabbing his wrist,and twisting him around. She kicked him behind his knees and as he lost his balance and fell,she took his head and slammed into the ground thrice. That should you keep down for a while Y/N thought.

When Y/N turned around she caught site of Buck trying to rip out Tony’s arc reactor. Fury raged through her veins and she ran towards Barnes.She gave out a battle cry before jumping onto Bucky’s shoulder from behind,trying to strangle him with her legs wrapped around his neck. Bucky in return threw back his head hitting her in the abdomen. He grabbed Y/N’s thighs and swung her around like a rag doll,dropping her onto the floor. As Bucky once again turned around to fight Tony who was catching his breath,Y/N got up,like a demon released from the depths of hell.

She pulled and grabbed his metal arm and forcefully turned him around with strength, neither knew she possessed. She threw punches at him right and left so quick,she put Quicksilver to shame. With a scream she round house kicked him in the face and as a result he fell down on his back. Y/N stardled him, punched him once more. She added a few moves from Kung Fu she had recently learned. And then the most shocking of all things happened. Y/N grabbed his metal arm and pulled. And with unimaginable strength she pulled out his metal arm. S he looked at the arm that was now in her hands,feeling so heavy,it made her wonder how she even pulled it out.

“Tony….Are you ok?"Y/N,Rhodey and Tony were sitting in the living room of Tony’s new mansion in New York,a few days after the events of the Accords. "Why don’t you tell me huh?” Tony snapped. He raised his head from where it was buried in his hands. He had been thinking about what kind of mistake he had made that, all of this had to have happened to him. “Why don’t you tell me what you did back there in Siberia,a few days ago huh?’ Why don’t you tell me why you did what you did back there?” Tony continued.

“I-I-uh I don’t know what you are talking about Tony."Y/N replied obviously confused as to what Tony was asking her. "God dammit Y/N! Of course you know what I am talking about. Don’t bullshit me. Why did you defend me? Why the hell did you went against mot one,but TWO FUCKING SUPER SOLDIERS Y/N? Were you trying to get yourself killed out there? What made you even think that you could take them on? Tony stood up. ’‘Tony I a-’'She was cut off once again by the billionaire. "No you tell me! If you wanted to die you could have jumped off a building for all I care, Why did you try to protect me? Why did you risk your life to save mine?” “Maybe you should calm down Tony."Rhodes spoke from behind him but,Tony ignored him."Why? Why? Did you want to put more burden on my shoulders? More guilt huh? That while I was trying to save the team,which by the way is also our family,you died in the process.” Tony spoke angrily in one breath.

“No! I lost my temper. I thought they would kill you. I thought that the person that I care the most about in this world,would die if I didn’t do anything. Because I care about you. Not because I wanted to,not because I wanted to make you feel you guilty. I risked my life to save you,because I love you. Because you are the love of my life. Because you are more important to me than my own life. Because you are my true family. Because none of the Avengers are my family you are. You are the one who has always been there for me. You are the one who I grew up with. You are the one I have memories of and with. You are who I think of every night before I sleep. You are the first person that crosses my mind,every morning after I wake up. BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU,ANTHONY EDWARD STARK. Why can’t you get that through your thick genius brain?’'Y/N lashed out at Tony.

’'I love you too.’'Tony replied and wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist He pulled her close to him. For the first time in forever they saw raw emotion in each others eyes. And then they kissed,their lips joining together like two puzzle pieces. Sparks and butterflies,and everything you ever read about in romance novels,is what they felt. Tony’s lips soft against Y/N’s chapped ones. They moved in sync. They felt as if it was just them in this world and no one else. But their moment was broken when Rhodey fist pumped the air and excitedly yelled out"Yes! God! I have been waiting for this to happen for years.”

babblebitchbablebitch  asked:

Do you know of any ws!bucky/steve/40s!bucky? Thanks

I did my best, captain (not 100% sure there all ws!bucky and 40!bucky but there are definitely two buckys)

Not Alone and Not the Same

That’s Bucky, all right. Another Bucky. Bucky’s lips, Bucky’s nose, Bucky’s dimples, Bucky’s tiny, heart-shaped birthmark on Bucky’s chin. Bucky. A second Bucky. Two Buckys.

You Didn’t Know?

“Wait, you didn’t know?”  The first Bucky asked, staring across at Steve who was gaping at the second Bucky.

“Of course I didn’t know there were two of you.”  Steve exclaimed.  “How the hell could I know there were two of you, how the hell are there even two of you?”

the light of our armistice day

 Bucky isn’t all that suave nowadays, which explains why the first thing he says to his new—and incredibly hot and lethal-looking—teammate is, “Oh.”

 Followed by, “Um.“

 And then, “I didn’t realise we were going to a masquerade. I would’ve brought my domino mask.”

Bucky isn’t quite sure who the Winter Soldier is, or how they wound up working a mission together, or how to get him to talk, but he has to admit the guy is ridiculously attractive.

This fic features clones of uncertain provenance, a slightly ditzy BuckyCap, ill-advised flirtation attempts, and an infestation of Jameses. Tongue very much in cheek.

also check out this on ao3