“Today we are in the shock of the catastrophe in which our colleges of the Alexandrov Choirs and Dances disappeared. Not only were they our colleagues, but a very important military art company, and I am shocked to learn of the disappearance of their leader, my fellow student and friend General Valery Khalilov, with whom we studied and professed together at the Tchaikovsky Conservatory in Moscow . It is a terrible loss for Russian music and art. All members of the Red Army Chorus MVD of the Russian National Guard join me in expressing their friendship to the families of the members of the Alexandrov Ensemble and the families of all the victims of this tragedy and to address our feelings to them More affectionate in this dramatic moment ”.
Sorry I will forever reject the idea that Steve Rogers loved Peggy more than he loved Bucky Barnes. Like. That’s not even a contest. He loved Peggy – absolutely and undoubtedly – but Bucky was his entire soul. He was his home, he was security and safety and love wrapped into one. If Peggy had died, back in the day, he would have been devastated, no doubt. But he would have moved on. He crashed a jet into icy water when/because Bucky died. No matter your interpretation of their relationship – romantic, fraternal, w/e – the fact remains that Steve Rogers always loved and will always love Bucky Barnes more than any one person or one thing. Ever.
Can you do a Warren x Reader where Warren survives the jet crash but he has amnesia and doesn’t remember anything. You then try your hardest to help him remember by recreating moments together he still can’t remember anything. So you think that it would be best if you guys were just friends now. But the more time Warren spends with you, he falls in love with you again because even if he doesn’t remember you, his heart does. -Requested by anon
Characters: Warren Worthington III Word Count: 874
Hi, this is the Warren request from before, I'm so sorry I didn't even give you a plot or anything! That was silly of me. Anyway, could you use 64 from that prompts list you posted? Thanks and again, sorry!
Prompt: “Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”
A/N: Don’t worry about it, anon, it’s totally fine ❤️
Missions were not only draining but utterly exhausting, which was why as soon as you returned from one you usually crashed. The jet had to be one of the most uncomfortable places to take a nap, despite its net worth being at least three billion dollars or more—it was seriously a piece of crap if you wanted to sleep. Most of the time, the plane was filled with silence, the team members either passed out in their chairs, having telepathic conversations or injured. This was especially the case after a failed or compromised assignment. Then the jet would be understandably silent; no movement from any of the passengers, only sometimes the occasional grunt from Wolverine.
Today had been a rough day, for not just you but for everyone. Yet again, Magneto had escaped in toll with another powerful mutant. Normally, it would be a devastating loss, but what made it worse was the fact that they had their asses handed to them by some of Magneto’s henchmen. Not only was this an embarrassing defeat but an exhausting one as well.
The plane had landed, Xavier’s mansion sitting on the grass bright and gleaming; and you were glad to be home. Usually you and Warren would have been hauled up in the back of the jet, chatting aimlessly about unusual topics or about the battle that just took place; but at the moment, you couldn’t bare to face him. During the mission he was a complete wreck, disregarding direct orders and acting recklessly; which not only endangered your life, but also the lives of the team. You couldn’t possibly understand what had gotten into him, for he was never the one to act rash and hostile during an assignment; in fact, he would act quite the opposite. On the way back home, after what you could assume was a very stern talking to by Professor Xavier, a long confrontation by Scott and a telepathic conversation with Jean, he was deathly silent.
The way back to your room, which happened to be across the hall from Warren’s, was not a pleasant trip. As you continued to walk, you would hear his heavy footsteps trailing behind you, his wings rustling around as well. It was almost as if he wasn’t there, your body already being accustomed to his presence as well as your mind. For as long as you could remember, the two of you had always been close to each other. Nothing could ever separate you nor pull you apart, as if the two of you were destined to be together. And for awhile now, you had enjoyed that idea, the fact that you could wake up every morning with him pressed close to your body, his husky morning breath tickling your ears and stealing kisses any time you wanted on his kissable pink lips. But, after tonight, you were suddenly having doubts.
Before you could even open the door of your room, his warm hand was placed gingerly on your shoulder in an attempt to stop you from entering. You wanted to turn your back on him, walk into the room and slam the door angrily behind you. But, as soon as you turned around, meeting those crystalline blue eyes, you were suddenly weak at the knees. Releasing your grip on the door handle, you crossed your arms over your chest, indicating the fact that this would not be a pleasant conversation.
“I can explain.”
It took a majority of your will power to not slap him right then and there. He was right that he owed you an explanation, and it better be a damn good one. Motioning for him to continue, he managed to say something about being distracted and angry over something that Scott said—something along those lines, but from what you could tell it was a load of crap. His explanation was soon wrapped up, as he warily looked up at you. Nibbling on your lip you turned away, no words needing to be said about his sloppy excuse of an explanation.
“Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”
Of course not, that would not only wound your ego but also for you to get your intentions through his thick skull. And that was just what you did.
“Why are you lying to me, Warren? After everything we’ve been through, you decide to avoid telling me the truth over a new recruit, as if you think I don’t know any better. Tell me what’s truly bothering you.”
You knew that he valued his pride very much, which was why with his flushed cheeks and averted blue eyes you knew this was serious. Running his hands through his blond hair, his wings fluttering nervously behind him, he spoke; his voice coming out a bit softer than normal.
“I was jealous, alright. You and Scott were always spending time together and whenever he’s giving orders he’s so bossy, as if he thinks he’s better than everyone else,” he rolled his eyes, “I needed you to know that I’m much better boyfriend material than Summers.”
By the time he finished, his cheeks were practically on fire—leaving him to look like a bright red tomato. Choking back a laugh, you couldn’t believe how you didn’t see it before. Which was why, before he even know what was happening, you had him pinned to the wall; your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?”
Before leaning in and pressing a passionate kiss on his lips.
The silence that hung between them was so heavy Roy worried it might crash the jet. ( Which had a maximum weight capacity of 12,500 pounds ) The mission had been long. Long and hard and Roy’s bones were already aching. The silence between he and Dick was not one of the many comfortable silences they had shared in the past, this one felt suffocating. Words left unsaid, demanding to be said.
He was tired. He thought about his bed at home, and allowed himself to long for it. He thought about a hot shower and allowed himself to want for it. He thought about Lian and allowed himself to miss her. In the rearview mirror he caught Dick’s eye by accident, and felt something turn over in his chest like the engine of an old car. This was not allowed. He knew it was not allowed, by rules he had set for himself.
He looked away, hands tightening on the plane’s steering wheel. (Eye’s up front, Harper. )