dangle city

I couldn’t get this artwork by @zuzarti out of my head, so I had to write about it. I hope you don’t mind. :)

ALWAYS

Kaidan pushed out into the frigid night. The cold gnawed at his bare skin as he walked out onto the rooftop of his high rise. The rolled up sleeves and pant legs of Shepard’s old fatigues served as a reminder of Shepard’s shorter limbs but they did little to protect him from the punishing December sky.

Didn’t matter. He didn’t wear them for comfort.

A pair of Reapers hovered above him, seemingly unaware of his presence. His stomach spat up bile into his esophagus - an involuntary response. Reapers no longer caused him the fear they once did but his body remembered the old times.

He checked his clock - 23:20. Just a few more minutes now. He rubbed an agitated thumb against the hand lamp he carried.

The city of Vancouver spilled out below him until it vanished into the black void of the sea. He watched the lights twinkle through the haze of his own breath. His body railed against being exposed to the cold and sent violent shivers over his body.

His reasoned mind, too, spoke up in protest. It preached sermons against his zealous heart. What did he hope to gain from this? What if his theory about Shepard and the Reapers was true? What would it change? Shepard wasn’t coming back.

He ignored all of this. He glanced heavenward and then at the time again. Almost.

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Outcasts - m.

member: Jeon Jungkook

genre: Angst, Smut,  Runaway!au

warnings: Nsfw, Mature Content, Depression, Alcohol and Drugs use

  words: 2.7k

“We’re like two halves of one heart.”

Originally posted by jjks


You didn’t hesitate to climb out of your bedroom window, it was one of those tiresome nights. Where you wanted to curl up in a hole and shut the world out completely. You grabbed what you needed, some cash and a pack of cigarette along with a lighter. 


You have problems with your parents, it was like being locked up in jail inside that house. A house was supposed to feel like a home, home is where your heart is. Your heart wasn’t there. They forced you into making decisions you didn’t wanted, setting up strict rules to follow and they were never happy for what you’ve done. 

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I’m just getting into The Avengers and am hoping for some Bucky x reader fanfics? Maybe where the reader is new to the team and he isn’t too nice to them in the beginning and Tony comments about it and fluff?

I will do this while hoping the AC repairman shows up soon.  Who knew 77 degrees could feel so awful!?  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!


At this point, you had relegated yourself to the top of Stark Tower.  Granted, you had the best view, along with a balcony that always had a breeze.  But relegating yourself to a place usually meant you didn’t want to interact with those around you.

And this time was no different.

Happening upon them on a mission was purely by accident.  You were having coffee at your favorite alleyway coffee shop, and as you were walking out you saw an enhanced individual doing some things he shouldn’t be doing to a very nice lady.

You listened to him threaten his life before you thrust out your hand, your eyes shining green as a vine protruded from the cement, impaling the man in much the same way he was probably imagining with the woman.

What you didn’t know was that the infamous Black Widow was walking out of the coffee shop just as you had thrust your hand out.

And so it began: the journey of you attempting to work out with the Avengers.

Or whatever they called their little group.

But they didn’t warm up to you as quickly as you might have thought.

Including the one with the metal arm.

In his defense, when you couldn’t remember his name you probably shouldn’t have called him “Chrome-tastic.”

But still.  His cold shoulder, after chuckling various times at the pun to yourself, was getting to be a bit much.  You had apologized furiously: attempting to cook him food, bake him desserts, attempting to apologize the old-fashioned way…

…but he just wasn’t interested.

Him and Steve, as you had come to find Cap’s name was, were good friends, and while he was on Chrome-ium’s side at first, soon you found him slowly slipping over to yours.

But you decided to give the apology one last shot.

Taking in a deep breath as you throw a hoodie on over your body, you strut downstairs in your dark brown leggings and your barely-there socks, searching out the metal-man himself as you slowly ascend each pair of stairs.

“You know you really could just take the elevators,” Tony said as he smirks at you before snapping his fingers and bopping his wrists.

“The exercise is nice,” you muse as your eyes scan the room for Bucky.

“And needed for some,” you hear Bucky’s voice emanate from a corner in the room.

A weight joke.

How flattering.

As Tony shoots you a taut look, his shoulders shrugging lightly as you turn your body towards the angered man, you slowly approach him as his eyes keep downcast at the piece of wood he is whittling.

“Bucky?” you ask, stopping a few feet away from him as you attempt to grab his attention.

But all he did was keep on shaving the pieces of wood away.

“Bucky…” you lull lightly, your shoulders slumping lightly as you let out a light sigh.

“Yes?” he says gravelly, not looking up from his project as your eyes dance across his shoulders.

You could see the edges of his scar peeking out from under his shirt.

And it gave you an idea.

“I have a scar like that,” you say, pointing to his shoulder as his eyes finally pan up to yours.

“Doubt it,” he says flatly.

“No, really,” you say, pulling off your hoodie as your baggy tank-top flutters around your stomach.

“See?” you state, turning around as you show Bucky the intertwined scars on your back, criss-crossing and wrapping in on themselves, the skin slightly raised and discolored.

It always reminded you of vines…

But when you turned back around, a light grin on your face, you were met with the dead stare of the Winter Soldier.

“You think these scars are worth showing off?” Bucky asks as he puts his project off to the side.

“N-…no.  No no…that’s…that’s not what I meant to-”

“You think your scars are cute?” Bucky bites as he slowly stands to his feet, his eyes connecting heavily with yours as you clench your jaw.

“No,” you state firmly.

“I don’t want to see them anymore than I want to see mine,” Bucky murmurs lowly.

“And why not?” you ask.

Screw apologizing.

If he wanted to fight, you would give it to him.

“Your scars mean you can grow neat little flowers out of your fingertips.  My scars mean I killed people.  Lots of people.”

“Did you apologize?” you sarcastically retort.

“I should be asking you that same question…” Bucky glowers.

Clenching your fists at your sides as Bucky begins to walk past you, he knocks up against your shoulder as you feel the rest of your measly resolve flow from the depths of your soul.

You were seeing nothing but green now.

Whirling around as you whip your hand out, you catch his arm as you rip him around.

But you hadn’t realized it was his metal arm.

“It was just a dumbass-”

Before you could finish your statement, you felt his metal arm grasp you around your neck, hoisting you up off of the ground as Tony already begins to mobilize his weird robot hand thing.

Thumping against the wall as pictures come crashing down around you, your arms begin to bleed from the scrapes and cuts as you thrust your arm out, a vine weilding from your palm as he wraps around Bucky, trapping his arm to his body, as it hoists him out beyond the balcony, his body dangling over the city as your entire body trembles with fear.

You weren’t going back to that life.

“Y/N!” Tony yells, trying to get your attention as he trains his hand onto you.

“He doesn’t get it.  He doesn’t understand…” Tony drifts off as Natasha appears behind him.

“Does someone need to go set up a pillow bounce for Bucky?” she asks, half-jokingly…

…but half-serious as well…

What you didn’t realize is that Wanda had appeared behind you, waving one hand around your temple while thrusting the other out, covering a dangling Bucky in red joo-joo.

She was creating a mind-link.

“Wanda!” Tony yells as her eyes begin to turn red.

“They will never understand each other unless they know,” she says as your head lays back, Bucky’s body going limp as your vine automatically retracts his body back into the room.

You felt the tears coursing down your face as the images of Bucky’s kills flash across your memory, their last words searing themselves forever in your memory banks as the vine slowly unravels the dangling man, setting him on his feet as his chest begins to heave with panic.

Behind his own glowing eyes, with Wanda’s power still encircling him, he watches…helpless amongst the scenes…as you endure test after test.

Injection after injection.

Torture after torture…

It wasn’t until he watched your child-like figure scream out in horror as a man thrust his forearm into the back of your neck, bending you forward onto a table as he pins your head down…thrusting a needle into the base of your neck…that you yelled out just as Wanda’s spell broke for you both.

“Stop, Daddyyyyyyyyyy!”

Breathing heavily, your chest heaving with your own sobs as the room slowly comes back into focus, your legs wobble before giving out underneath you, your body plummeting to the floor as your widened eyes dart around.

But it wasn’t before Bucky ran over and caught you, his strong arms cradling you in his lap as you lean into his frame, his metal arm that had thrown you into a wall only moments before now caressing your piping hot arm lightly in an attempt to cool it down as he tries to hold back his own tears from spilling forth.

Bucky was the first to break the silence.

“Y/N…?” he asks lowly in your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, taking in a rattling, shallow breath as your frightened eyes finally make their way up to his.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, your face crinkling up once more as Bucky’s arms tighten around you, pulling you ever-closer to him as he rests his cheek on the top of your head.

“And so am I,” Bucky whispers desperately, his tears finally falling silently upon his cheeks as his face turns red, his body slowly beginning to rock you side to side as you find yourself instinctively curling into him.

Into the coolness of his arm.

Into the strength of his hold.

Into the comfort of his body…

As the two of you sit there, in the middle of the disheveled room, Tony puts his hand in between Natasha’s shoulder blades as he leads both her and Wanda out of the room.

“Let’s give the two love-birds some time alone,” Tony quips.

“They are not in love,” Wanda says as she walks beside him.

“I don’t know.  Looks like love to me,” Natasha says as she smirks up at Tony.

“You two would think that,” Wanda lulls.

“And what is thiat supposed to mean?” Tony asks.

“It’s her way of calling us dysfunctional,” Natasha chuckles.

“Oh.  Well, thank you,” Tony snarks as the three of them continue down the hallway.

But little did they know that the two of you would stay like that for the rest of the afternoon, eventually migrating to the couch where the two of you would fall asleep in the safety of each other’s bodies.

After all, neither of you could do what had already been done to the other.

And that, oddly enough, was comfort for you both.

And Since We’ve No Place To Go

It’s snowing.



It’s snowing and he’s alone on the roof of Wayne Towers, looking down over the city, his legs dangling recklessly.


The city glitters and the snow makes it look clean. From all the way up here, he can’t see the crime pressed into the city’s walls, into its cracks. He can’t hear cursing, screaming, yelling, dying.

There are Christmas lights on all the buildings, and they make the city look even brighter. He’s not used to the city looking nice like this.


He’s used to it being dark, to it being dim.


The brightness, the colors? He isn’t sure he likes it.




He takes a puff from his cigarette and breathes it out into the air, the warm mixing with the cold. The smoke sails upward, and there’s a shifting from behind him.


It’s subtle but he can tell it’s there.

Almost soundlessly, the other sits beside him.

Neither men say anything, although the first is tempted.



But he doesn’t want to talk, so he doesn’t. The other man says nothing, for which is is grateful.





It’s snowing.





It’s snowing and it’s cold and he’s all alone, watching his city.


Except he’s not, because he’s there. He’s there, and somehow the first man isn’t surprised.


He puffs out another breath of smoke; his phone pings. He slides it out.

About to start making cookies, you in?


He’s all alone except he’s not, he reminds himself. He types out a reply and stands, crushing the cigarette under his foot and pulling his helmet on.

“Merry Christmas, old man,” Jason offers, before he turns and leaps off the side of the building, whooping with joy, leaving Bruce alone on the top of the building.