He was jolted awake by the thought of his mortality.
Gabriel Reyes didn’t move right away; instead he just lay on his side, his eyes open, willing himself to take a deep breath to steady himself. Slowly, the cold feeling of the adrenaline shock dissipated from his stomach, leaving him feeling drained and foolish. He adjusted his body, checked his limbs, reminded himself that he was still alive. While that was enough to let the feeling seep away, it also left him feeling that much worse.
Will tarquin's daughter have an important roll to play? Cause i feel like you wouldn't just put her birth in your fic with no reason? Idk maby I'm wrong
Yes!! She does have an important part!! Her character comes into play after Requiem. After Requiem is done, I am doing a time jump to when they are older. She’ll be about 20 when she gets introduced. Way back when, at the beginning of the Next Gen fic, the Suriel foreshadows her entrance :)
younger twin brother, Ieyoshi, was smart and athletic and popular and had a
bright future waiting for him. Tsuna would be damned if he let Vongola take
If older siblings were supposed to set a good examples for
younger siblings, Tsuna was a failure as an older brother. It wasn’t very
surprising, though. Tsuna had failed in so many things in his life, so why
would this aspect be any different?
As Steve makes the leap from the plane deep inside enemy territory he thinks, a little crazily, that this is a long way from what he thought he’d be doing tonight. Ailsa’s cry as she tucks her wings in close and dives beside him is carried away by the wind. Just hours ago she was striking her usual grand pose behind his head for an audience of broken-down unhappy front-line troops, and now -
Disobeying orders, dragging Peggy and Howard into danger after him, AWOL in a chorus girl’s helmet and carrying a shield. He’s in a lot of trouble if he survives this. But there’s no way to unmake the leap, and he wouldn’t take it if there was one. Not while Bucky’s out there.
If Bucky’s still out there.
Steve sheds his parachute and follows the road towards the Hydra base, staying out of sight, listening for the trucks. Ailsa ghosts from tree to tree above him, an alien creature in this European landscape.
Steve doesn’t let himself imagine that Bucky’s not alive to rescue.
He is. He is. He has to be.
Steve has nightmares, sometimes, about if he’d been just a little later. If Ailsa with her sharp eagle eyes hadn’t spotted the little man with the snake daemon hurrying away. If Steve had followed his first instinct and chased after him instead of stopping to look in the room he’d just left.
Bucky is strapped to a table, whole body twisted and straining against the straps, face wet with tears as he mutters his serial number. He’s curving as far as he can within the restraints towards the far end of the room, his whole body making a desperate reaching shape.
Once he sees him Steve isn’t paying attention to anything else. He breaks Bucky’s bonds, helps him up. Bucky’s expression is shocky and he can barely stand. “Dolly,” he says, “Dolly,” hanging onto Steve’s arm for dear life and trying to stumble across the room - and then Ailsa is taking to the air and crying out in outrage and Steve finally sees the big wire cages.
Keeping a person apart from their daemon is torture all by itself. The room is just slightly larger than Bucky and Dolly’s comfortable range of separation, a distance Steve knows almost as well as he knows his and Ailsa’s. As soon as he understands, he hoists Bucky up into his arms - forget his dignity, he’s hurt - and carries him across the room; he can feel the limp relief shudder through Bucky’s body the second he’s back inside his range. Ailsa is screeching furiously and scrabbling at the locks on the right-hand cage with her talons, buffeting the air with her wings to stay up. Steve sets Bucky down - he really can’t stand; it was only the desperation to get to Dolly that had him trying before - and goes to help her, closes his super-strong fingers around the padlock and just pulls. The metal snaps apart in his hands.
Bucky’s dragged himself into sitting upright and Dolly goes past them in a long low grey streak and bowls him flat. He lets out a low sound that’s close to a sob and holds on. Steve looks away as they hang onto each other, Bucky’s face buried in Dolly’s ice-tipped fur and his hands making claw shapes as he clings. Some things between a person and their daemon are private.
His eyes go to the cages instead. Both of them are big enough to hold a good-sized daemon, or even a person. The wire mesh of the right hand one shows wear and tear where Dolly threw herself against the cage walls trying to get out. The cage on the left is empty.
There’s something weird set up in the thin space between them - some kind of machine. It’s got the same faint blue glow that some of the Hydra weapons have. Steve steps closer to look and Ailsa settles on his shoulder, fluffing up her feathers nervously. The machine is set up like a guillotine, a blade hanging poised between the cages. The edge of the blade is made of an unfamiliar metal with an odd dull shine.
“I don’t like it,” Ailsa says in his ear. “Leave it alone. Let’s go.”
Steve nods. He came here to get Bucky out and that’s what he’s going to do. He turns and Bucky is on his feet, Dolly pressed against his legs like it’s just casual. Bucky looks from Steve to Ailsa and back again. “Steve?” he says. His eyes go back to Ailsa, wondering. She hasn’t changed at all since Brooklyn.
Steve says, “I thought you were dead.”
“I thought you were smaller,” says Bucky, and Dolly lets out a dearly familiar canine huff of amusement. _
Steve describes the machine in the Hydra base to Howard later. Howard listens with a frown to his description of the dull shine on the metal blade. “Sounds like vibranium,” he says. “I’d love to know where the Nazis are getting hold of a stock of that. I thought we had all of it.”
“Any idea what it was supposed to do?”
Howard shrugs, though his expression is dark. Then something occurs to him and his eyes brighten. “Though speaking of vibranium…”
A/N: I was thinking about what Harry could possibly doing instead of showing up to the Brits, and, well, this was the result. It’s 2.4k of pure Romee/Harry indulgence, but also a fun look into their past and a great timing for things that happen in the next chapter! Also, this is unedited, so I apologise for any mistakes. Enjoy!
As much as I tried not to think about Harry and how he’d let me down recently, I couldn’t help but sit in front of my telly excitedly and wait patiently for him to show up at the Brits. He told me a few days earlier he was going to be there – that was his reasoning for being back in London, apparently – and I was far too excited about what colourful patterned suit he was going to grace my screen with.
uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh so i was inspired by a porn gif that one of my best friends sent me ages ago and this happened…it’s really short and really dumb and i’m sorry i cheaped the fuck out on you but here u go
nsfw-ish…??? not really???? buT? whatever it’s sjips enjoy
This was another dream inspired fic. I have a direction for this one though, so it’ll be around for a while. I think I’m going to publish in kind of short bursts for this one. So you all are going to hate me at the end of every part, but just know there’s another one coming quicker this way.
Warning: Beginning with Part 5 this fic is in first person from Zach’s perspective. THERE IS NOT SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER.