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that-good-trash · 4 years

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Please Don’t Go

Bakugou x reader / Kirishima x reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, self harm, angst, heartbreak

Word count: 8.3K

Summary: Sometimes things happen that you wish you could change,fix, but you can’t. Instead you are left suffering with broken pieces and suffering worse than you’ve ever dealt with. The person you wish was helping you keeps hurting you while the person you didn’t know you needed is holding you together.

Comment: I just really like angst since it seems to be the only thing I can write recently. I guess I’m kinda stuck in a sad rut myself. I hope you all enjoy it.

PS. Also thank you all for 100 followers! I love all of you and you all matter!

*********************************

“It is 3 in THE GOD DAMN MORNING, WHAT THE HELL COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT FROM ME!”

“Morning Katsu, have you ever thought about the stars and how they always exist but we can only see them at night.”

“…”

“Katsu…”

The sound of a single click could be heard. You stare at your phone for a moment knowing that he had hung up on you. You sigh laying your head back down on your pillow. You knew that you should have told him the real reason you had called but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Your ‘boyfriend’ if you could actually call him wasn’t the type to listen to your nonsense. You didn’t mean to beat around the bush, you wanted to get to the point when it came to conversation. It was hard for you to tell people what was really going on inside your brain. Bakugou Katsuki had a way of letting you know when he was irritated with your run around way of speaking.

You can’t fall asleep because of the thoughts swirling around in your head. You had the pressure of millions of gallons of water on your chest and head. You wondered if this is what a submarine feels as it dives deeper into the darkness of the ocean. Your eyes were still red and hadn’t gotten a chance to fully dry. Crying was something that you tended to do a lot prior to recent events that lead to your current state. Now your tears hurt more than usual. You couldn’t figure out if they hurt because you had been rubbing your eyes frantically or because of the circumstance in which they were there to begin with. A sniffle followed by the sound of your own choked sob breaks the silence of the room. Your crying again, alone. You alone crying holding so much pain and loss.

***********

“Y/n will not be in class today, again.”

My Aizawa gave class 1A the heads up before turning back toward the board to talk about today’s itinerary. The class wouldn’t have had any reason to worry had this been the first absence. However, this was absence number three and you hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts. Actually, the only person who has actually claimed to have seen you was their teacher. No one had seen or heard from you in the days you had been missing. Over the weekend you had left the dorms to return to your actual home because of reasons that escaped everyone’s knowledge and you hadn’t returned yet. It was beginning to worry everyone especially those that had grown to fond and close to you. Midoriya was twiddling with his fingers and mumbling words of worry under his breath. Your name had passed through everyone’s lips as they questioned your lack of presence in school.

“Hey Bakugou, what’s going on with Y/n?”

Kaminari, whose voice is lacking its usual cheer, chimes in behind the angry blonde. Bakugou growls in response but doesn’t actually say anything. Kaminari puts his tray of food down on the table next to Kirishima who looks a mix between angry and tired. Before Kaminari had walked up Kirishima had been trying to get information out of Bakugou as well. Bakugou had snapped at the red head that he ‘DIDN’T KNOW SHIT’. Kirishima was having a hard time believing his best friend but at the same time he knew how little Bakugou actually tried to be in your life so it made sense if the agitated boy was telling the truth.

“Dude, for real though, Y/n has missed a lot of school. I hope she’s okay.”

Kaminari was just trying to give his honest feelings but that didn’t sit well with Bakugou who slammed his hands down in frustration. He never got the chance to speak since Mina and Sero had come to the table restating the previous concerns that everyone in class had been having. Bakugou, in a fit of anger, throws his uneaten food away before storming out of the cafeteria.

“What the heck crawled up his ass and died.” Sero looks at Mina who spoke up with her own irritation. She and you were really close. She loved you like you were her own sibling and wanted so badly for you to answer her messages. She was not as understanding as the boys in the squad and found Bakugou’s behavior childish. She sits down with a sigh trying to calm herself down. Sero squeezes her shoulder reassuringly.

**********

While, your concerned classmates continued their school day, you laid on the couch of your empty home. The only thing keeping you from breaking down for the hundredth time was the purring cat curled up against your lap. Your fingers trailed along her fur as the familiar warmth tried to keep you stable. Your mother had told you, before she left to work, that you couldn’t miss any more days of school and tomorrow you would return to the loud energetic halls of UA. Just the idea of going back in this state made you sick to your stomach. You have to swallow down the acid rising out of your throat.

As you lay on the couch your phone chimes again. They are a persistent class but you are spiraling into a hard depression. You already struggle with depression but never made it obvious so people wouldn’t be bothered or feel like they have to ‘help’ you. Now you were gone, in a world different from everyone else. You had wondered if you had the fare if you would find the ferrymen Charon and request, he take you away. You’d rather be whisked away by a mythological Grim then face another day with this horrible pain. You had never felt more alone than you did now. You didn’t care about the messages that came to your cellphone because none of them were from the person you needed it to be from. You let your eyes close and the moment that brought you to these horrid thoughts and feelings beginnings replaying.

**************

“Hey mom I was just about to go watch a movie with some classmates, what’s up.” You hadn’t expected a call from your mother. She usually just texted you. A call meant something serious usually so you were already on edge before her words put you over the edge.

“You need to come home.” Those are never good words unless they come from a parent who just misses her child which definitely wasn’t your mother.

“What? Why?”

“Something has happened, I’d rather tell you in person.”

You had never heard you mother sound so blank and yet had concern laced in her voice. You had grown worried with what could have had happened. You would never had imagined what really did transpire. You had left the dorms with permission from Aizawa seeing as it was already late. You heart was racing as you said goodbye to your friends before leaving. The way home felt longer than usual but you eventually made it home. Your mother and you sat in silence for ages before she told you. No beating around the bush, she was always blunt and straight to the point.

“Your friend from middle school, F/n. She’s dead.”

The words hadn’t even settled into your mind before the tears came rushing out of your eyes. Your own body reacted before you could. This was something you fought mentally. There was no way that she was dead. You couldn’t imagine her gone. This was all wrong and you were waiting for your mother to admit this was some sort of sick joke. It wasn’t a joke and she wasn’t laughing. She looked sad, not for the death but for her daughter. She was feeling sadness for you. You shook your head over and over but she nodded to reassure you this was real life. You had indeed lost your middle school best friend. Your mother went on to hand you a box of tissues before giving you the more gruesome parts of the story.

“Your friend didn’t just die. She killed herself. She had gashes going up her arms from a knife that was found near her bathtub. She had used her quirk to weigh her body under the water and essentially, she drown herself before she could bleed to death. Her mother found her and was announced DOA. I’m sorry Y/n. I realize this is more than you’d like to hear but it is good to help you understand that she was sick. I told you this before that she…”

The words your mother spoke faded away. You couldn’t hear her over the sound of your screams that had begun to come out of your mouth. Your body shook violently and you ran to the bathroom to throw up. The taste of tears and bile lingered on your tongue long after you had stopped vomiting. Your mother brought you water and a towel as you sat on the bathroom floor. You kept picturing your dead friend with blood down her arms and water surrounding her. Had she cried? Did it hurt. Why the hell didn’t she reach out to you. You know you couldn’t say those things because middle school held you both together. You struggled with your physic and social anxiety while she struggled with everything about herself. You both were each other’s rock. You always complimented her and she beat up your bullies. After middle school you had gone to UA and she didn’t make the cut. You cried but she smiled and told you everything would be okay. Now she was dead and you couldn’t breathe. You mother was now on the floor holding you trying to get you to use your lungs which were betraying you. You just kept thinking about her bleeding to death in a hot bath while drowning at the same time. You had always expected to go to her graduation or her wedding one day, not her funeral. What didn’t help this situation was you had no one to talk to about her because she was a loner. You were alone with this pain even though you knew you had people you could seek comfort from. You didn’t feel like you deserved comfort while your former best friend was lying in a cold box at the hospital. You eventually had fallen asleep on the floor and your mother attempted to carry you to your bed. You woke up to the feeling of all the emotions hitting you all at once. As another panic attack came you reached for your phone hoping that your boyfriend had messaged asking if you were okay. He hadn’t. He hadn’t messaged at all. You called despite the time being close to two in the morning. After six rings he answered.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, I’M TRYING TO SLEEP. WHATEVER IT IS CAN FUCKING WAIT.”

You didn’t even get the chance to respond before he hung up leaving you in a worse broken lonely state. This news, this night had begun your spiral that lead to your current state of barely existing on your couch waiting for any form of death to take you.

***********

“Are you fucking serious!!!” Kirishima was yelling uncharacteristically at his best friend who was now wide eyed at the red heads lashing.

“You really haven’t tried talking to her? What kind of boyfriend, HELL what kind of friend does that? You told me she called you the nights he went home. Why the hell didn’t you let her speak!”

“MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS!”

Bakugou was now pissed, his quirk activating to prove just how upset he is. Kirishima doesn’t flinch when the first blast hits him. He’s already was one step ahead being used to having to use his quirk to defend against his friend’s attacks. He wasn’t going to hit back but found himself grabbing Bakugou’s wrist and throwing his arm down telling him to stop. Bakugou doesn’t like that and goes to attack once more but doesn’t get a chance before Kirishima’s fist makes contact with his face sending him backward with scrapes against his cheek due to the first having been hardened.

“You’re a lot of things Bakugou but I didn’t know you were so fucking heartless man. Y/n needs someone and you have chosen to ignore her. It doesn’t matter if she called you at ungodly times, she deserves your attention and respect.”

Bakugou is left with Kirishima’s words and disappointed look. Kirishima isn’t going to stand around. He had gotten your address from Mina who begged him to let her know how you were doing. She was too afraid to see you in case you were avoiding everyone on purpose. Kirishima was going to see you no matter what because that is the manly hero thing to do, hell that’s just the right thing to do.

***********

Your front door had never looked so menacing till Kirishima felt like he was intruding and felt panicked that he might have crossed a line. He had to shake the thoughts away, he couldn’t run away now. He was already here and he needed to make sure you were okay. A deep breath in and a knock on the door. He waited before knocking again. You opened your eyes and for a moment you thought that maybe Bakugou came over. Only a few select people knew your address and you knew it wasn’t going to be Mina or Midoriya since they had texting you telling you they’d give you space and not come by without your permission. That left one option. You threw open the door with tears already clouding your vision. It wasn’t what you expected or wanted; it was what you needed. Kirishima couldn’t even speak when he looked at you. His chest tightened and he wanted to cry. Your face had gotten thinner and you had bags under your eyes that were darker than Mr. Aizawa’s. Your hair was messy and your clothing was obviously pajamas. Your eyes were blood shot and he could see scratch marks all over your arms from your panic attacks. Kirishima wanted to do and say so many things in the moment but instead he did the one thing he thought you needed. He opened his arms and gave you a look of comfort. A sob escapes your lips as you run into Kirishima’s arms. You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling into the darkness, and maybe he was. Your tears soaked his shirt but he didn’t scold you like Bakugou would have. Bakugou was weak to tears he hated them, while Kirishima wasn’t weak to them, he was standing here crying with you. He was sharing your sadness when he didn’t even know why you were sad. His arms held you tightly afraid that if he lets go your collapse. He waits till you’re ready to pull away. Eventually the tears run dry and you’re just standing there engulfed in Kirishima’s warmth. His body feels safe and you are thankful for his presence. You shuffle backward slightly causing his hold to loosen to let you move away.

“Would you like to come inside?”

You would have started with asking him why he was here but that was a stupid question. Anyone would be worried if their friend was MIA for almost five days. Kirishima smiles and your heart beats. You almost forgot that you had one of those. You walk inside and Kirishima shyly follows after you. He looks around the living room while standing in your doorway. It seems cold but he can’t decipher if that’s due to actual temperature or because he can tell this is where you’ve spent a lot of your time crying. Tissues and a garbage can sit next to the couch which has two large blankets thrown over the side of it. There is a golden-brown furred cat stretching out before curling back into the abandoned warm spot left by you.

“Shoes.”

“What?”

Kirishima had been so focused on assessing his surroundings he hadn’t caught the first half of your words.

“You gotta take off your shoes.”

Duh, shoes. Kirishima wasn’t ill-mannered but in a situation where he is in an unfamiliar place with someone, he is very worried about he forgets the simplest things like removing your shoes. Once his shoes are off and guest slippers on his feet, he makes his way over to your side. You’ve now sat down on the couch pulling a large blanket over your shoulders while your fingers brush along the content looking cats’ fur. Kirishima doesn’t want to intrude so he chooses to stand, he waits for the right moment to ask why you are in such a state of disarray. He doesn’t want to be the one that speaks first. The silence is very heartbreaking since he knew that you, even when shy, were very charismatic. You always shined when you spoke about things you cared about. You also had a hidden spit fire personality that he was lucky enough to have witnessed a few times.

While waiting for you to speak he realizes that your head has dropped down more and he can hear the slightest hiccupping coming from you. He doesn’t hesitate to sit down and wrap an arm around your blanketed shoulder. He pulls you closer to himself letting your head hit his chest while his hand moves comforting circling into your arm. The blanket is thick but it doesn’t completely prevent you from feeling the gesture. You are torn between enjoying this and crying even harder. He is so patient with you and that makes your crying worsen since this wasn’t who you wanted to see which made you regret wanting Bakugou. Kirishima was always a good guy but now you had him holding you while you sobbed. Now he was the ultimate good guy, someone who has reached the highest level, a god tier of good.

“Kirishima, why are you here?”

You had originally avoided asking the stupid question but you had to. You had to know why Kirishima was wasting his time on you, even if he would tell you that you weren’t. Your words had come out broken because of your crying.

“Y/n, are you serious? I’m here because you need someone. You have missed class for three days causing everyone to go into a worried frenzy. I couldn’t take leaving you alone when I know that you are the kind to separate yourself from everyone to suffer alone. I’m here for you, to be here for whatever reason you need.”

You had begun crying worse because of Kirishima’s words. His eyes widen before he begins to internally panicking. He pulls away from you before gripping your shoulders and looking into your tear-filled eyes.

“Y/n did I say something wrong. I just don’t want you to be in pain because of me. I’d never come here with the intention of causing you more issues.”

You didn’t mean for it to happen but a laugh escapes your lips. You can’t help your sobs turning into giggles because Kirishima truly looked like he had hurt you. He looks even more concerned. You have to shake your head to try and prevent him from beating himself over your newfound insanity.

“No Kiri, you didn’t say anything wrong. You actually said what I needed to hear. I need someone with me right now but I also wanted to suffer alone. I caused myself more pain and anxiety by forcing myself to choose between isolation and comfort. You went ahead and made that decision for me. I’m crying because of your kindness and laughing because you honestly think you had done something wrong when you have never done anything bad to me. If anything, I noticed that whenever I need someone or something you are there to help or comfort me.”

Kirishima was relieved to hear that he hadn’t done anything to upset you. He would have kicked his own ass for hurting you since that was unmanly. Your laughter had made him confused but your explanation cleared it up. He now didn’t look confused but instead had a slight smile. He wasn’t happy but content. It was nice to be something you needed. A deep inner part of himself cursed Bakugou for not being here for you. However, another deep part of him was glad that it was him instead that was here with you. He knew how Bakugou was with emotions and tears, he didn’t do well with them. You were better off with Kirishima. This was a thought you both had shared without letting the other know.

While Kirishima is lost in thought about how to ask you what’s been troubling you, your body shifts on the couch getting more comfortable against him. He blushes slightly but let’s that fade because this is no time for unrequited love or crushes. This was about the pain you were suffering through. Your eyes close as a tiny yawn can be heard. You are once again exhausted and since you hadn’t felt comfortable enough to sleep earlier you hadn’t gotten any rest. Kirishima brought a feeling of safety and warmth you hadn’t felt since even before the horrid news. While your breathing began to steady you fell asleep. Kirishima gently moved his arm around your back to hold you closer to his chest. His hand behind your back began to rub gentle circles into your side. His other hand reached up and stroked your hair. The left side of your hair had a more course feeling to it and he knew why.

He had heard the story of how Bakugou had been calm enough holding you against him while stroking your hair. Though some classmates had come back to early and witnessed Bakugou being kind. They teased him not knowing the consequence you’d suffer. Bakugou had ignited his quirk without pulling his hand away which caused your hair to burn and the side of your face to erupt into hot excruciating pain. You had cried but also tried to tell Bakugou it was okay and not his fault which was stupid. He of course loudly agreed because it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been so close to him. The pain of his words was almost worse than the physical pain you had felt. You had to be rushed to recovery girl who was able to treat the burns to a certain extent. You had to shave the side of your hair to help keep the burn covered in ointment. You knew that despite his words Bakugou felt bed because every time he looked at you when he didn’t know you knew; he’d have a sad face full of regret. You’d remind him that it was okay and that you liked your hair shaved. He’d just tsk like he always did but you knew it meant something to know you didn’t blame or fear him.

Even knowing that his best friend hadn’t meant to hurt you he couldn’t help but hate him for it. Why couldn’t he just see you for the great wonder that you were. He could imagine your smile when he closed his eyes, his hand still rubbing your side. Your smile that glistened like stars, that laugh that would usual follow was interstellar. You were a celestial child too good for this world and mostly too good for Bakugou. You were suffering alone while the blonde wallowed in self-pity. Kirishima still had no idea what had happened to you but he was here no matter what it was. If you asked him to leave, he would because he cared about what you wanted. He was here for you and yet he still felt selfish. How could he pretend to know what you were going through? Except he wasn’t pretending, your exhausted demeaner and tear stained face gave away something bad had happened. He didn’t need to know why he just needed to hold you till you slept away the dark circles, till your eyes were no longer bloodshot but gleamed their gorgeous color.

“Katsuki.” The words were spoken in such a small broken voice with the slightest hint of hope. Maybe you wanted him to be someone else and maybe he would be just for you. Though Kirishima wouldn’t be him, anyone but the boy who chose training over his girlfriend. He held you tightly while using his free hand to catch a few of his own tears.

“I got you Y/n. I’m here, I’ll always be here.”

****************

“Kirishima…Kiri…Eijiro.” Kirishima smiled in his sleep, you were calling his name and he thought it was in his dream. A huge smile spread across his face while he rested. You were awake now, fully awake. When your eyes first opened you swore you were dreaming because Kirishima was holding you against himself while sleeping. You almost panicked when you realized you were awake and this was your actual classmate. You tried to pull away but his grip tightened. His hot breath against your face made you embarrassed, made your already warm body hotter.

“Y/n.” Feeling your name spoken against your ear drove you out of his grasp and onto the floor with a loud thud. The sound of you hitting the floor caught his attention, waking him up. You looked up from your spot on the ground and he looked down at you confused. Your face was red and your eyes avoid contact. A quick realization and Kirishima’s cheeks matched your own. He was quick to sit up off the couch, hands reaching down to help you up. You both looked away as you were pulled back into a standing position. You could feel your heart pounding and his hand was a little wet from sweat. He was still holding your hand. That changed when you both heard someone clear their throat. Your mom was standing in the doorway, she was obviously confused by the stranger in her living room. You pulled your hand away and looked down. Your mom wasn’t mean or judgmental, she was realistic and blunt. You expected her to comment about seeming fine or asking about your boyfriend. She remained quiet before switched shoes. She walked toward the two of you. Kirishima held out his hand after bowing in respect. “It’s nice to meet you Ms. L/n, I’m a classmate of your daughters, Eijiro Kirishima.”

“Y/n.” She shook Kirishima’s hand before looking at you. Your body was stiff. You had drifted into a painless sleep, actually got some rest, hadn’t thought about HER. Till now, you were almost numb and could breathe but looking at your mom you remembered the pain that had plagued you. Your chest was tight and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. Kirishima wasn’t dense, he felt the shift in the room. You were in excruciating mental pain when he came by earlier and now you were reverting back to that. His hand reached out grabbing yours again. Your mother looked between you both before directly at you.

“I spoke to F/n’s mom. They are having a service and I think it would be good for you to go.” Kirishima had no idea who she was talking about but the way your body stiffened before shaking this was a sensitive topic. What happened that made you like this? Your mother left you in the confused hands of the red head, who wished he had more to work with.

“Y/n… What happened.” You collapsed so fast that Kirishima almost couldn’t catch you. He was fast but not fast enough as your legs buckled and your whole top half crumbled onto the ground. Your face was red enough to match his eyes and your eyes were red enough to match his hair. You looked like a fish out of water gasping for hair while trying to find a way out of this. Desperation crossed your features. Anything was better than this pain, this loss. Your hiccupping drove Kirishima to his knees. His hands turned you gently till you were on your back. The sounds of your choked sobs, the way tears drift down your cheeks and into your splayed-out hair, the sporadic moment of your chest, it was all harrowing to witness. How could someone who always kept a smile on everyone’s face be so broken. He found himself crying with you, for you. His own tears falling onto your face before mixing in with your own and slipping down. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted too. You tried to speak but lacked oxygen enough to do so. Kirishima pulled your body upward holding you against him. Your chest pressed against his as he rubbed your back. He felt the wet pools against his shirt. He didn’t care that you cried on him. You hiccupped out an apology but it wasn’t necessary. You both stayed like this even as the sky outside darkened. Even when your mother yelled about dinner being ready. You still remained in Kirishima’s safe hold. He had his own dried tears and his hands never stopped soothing you. Eventually your words could slip out.

“My childhood friend committed suicide.” Kirishima stiffened. You spoke the words with so little emotion. Like you had cried away your sadness and was left numb again. He pulled you away so he could look into your bloodshot eyes. There were distant, like you were physically here but mental gone. You looked into his own bloodshot ones. He held all the sadness that you thought you lost. He held your pain for you and he had no idea what you were dealing with, he was truly empathetic. “She hurt herself and then she… she… she used her quirk to drown herself.”

The details didn’t matter because a dead girl was still a dead girl. Hell, a dead anyone was still someone who was dead and that itself was sad. The circumstances were cruel. It was like saying someone died fighting an awful fight, except they had fought themselves. A truly cruel disease depression is. Kirishima didn’t know what it felt like to want to die but he would never think less of someone who did. How could the world have such a negative sigma toward depression, maybe if it was normal then your friend would still be here. He blamed a cruel society and you blamed yourself. He realized looking at you that you felt responsible and for a moment he wished he could have told you how people are responsible for their own decisions but that wasn’t his place to comment. This wasn’t about him it was about your crumbling state of mind and your dead friend. You needed support and to hurt. This was necessary to heal.

“Tell me about her.” Your own mother wanted you to get over the pain like it hadn’t happened but here someone was, someone who owed you nothing, validating your loss wanting to know about your lonely friend. You smiled and yet the tears came back. You cried like a child who needed affection. You cried for your friend and her story. You were ready to tell him about her and you did. You spoke through sobs and Kirishima was patient. He listened to every painful part and every happy moment. He laughed at your inside jokes and cried at the painful abuse self-inflicted and household. Your friend was becoming a part of Kirishima’s thoughts as he filled it with your memories. He couldn’t believe that you were suffering alone with all this. Your own boyfriend not caring to listen or even check up on you.

“She sounds like a wonderful person and I’m so sorry that she is gone. I’m sorry that she left the way she did and I am sorry that you believe you contributed to this. Y/n, I know it won’t change anything but you didn’t do this. You can’t blame yourself or think about all the things that could have been done. Right now, you can only mourn and remember her for who she was and not who you could have made her. I didn’t know her but I know you and I don’t want to lose you because you waste away from guilt. Go to the service and say goodbye because she deserves that, but also live your life for her.” If words could truly heal people than Kirishima would have mended all these mental wounds for you. You would have smiled and thanked him but that isn’t how the real world worked. Pain, grief, any feeling between doesn’t go away with a few strong words but it does help. His words make everything more real; they make your feelings valid but also through you into a position where you have to face the truth. He isn’t wrong, you have to let blame dissipate. The thing with grieving was it takes time to help, to let go. You weren’t even half way there but you felt better knowing someone was in your court, someone hurt with you but also helped you hurt in the right way. Isolation is painful but being with him was restoration. You felt more like you now than you did hours ago.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” The way you looked at Kirishima with shy eyes made him smile. “I’d love to.”

The two of you collected a plate of food and sat quietly at the table, Eventually Kirishima couldn’t take the quiet and started telling you about school. You weren’t opposed to the conversation especially since all you had to do was listen. He talked about things that had happened in class avoiding talking about Bakugou and how everyone was sick with worry. You laughed at a story he told about Kaminari and Mineta getting chased down by a flock of girls they spied on. You laugh was genuine, like a gentle chiming of bells. Kirishima wanted to hear more but wouldn’t force anything to soon. A knock at the door brought attention away from the meal and conversation and to the living room. Your mother wasn’t expecting guests nor were you. Fear bubbled up again. Who could it be now? Kirishima was a blessing but another classmate might upset the balance. Kirishima shared your worry as he followed you to the door. Opening it you were both shocked to find your homeroom teacher. Mr. Aizawa looked unamused as he watched Kirishima try to move out of sight. His hand thrusted out pushing the door all the way open. Kirishima looked at him with a half grin hoping he wasn’t in to much trouble. You giggled at the red heads guilty demeanor. Your attention returned to your teacher as he looked at you. The two of you shared a look. His face wasn’t hard and stoic like usual. It held a twinge of sorrow.

“I am here to receive Kirishima seeing as he left without permission and stayed out past curfew. I’m also here to give you my condolences. L/n, I’m sorry for your loss. Losing a friend is hard.” You had cried for days straight and for the first time today you didn’t cry. You nodded accepting his condolences and understand that as an adult pro hero he has dealt with a lot of loss. You thanked him in a small voice which he acknowledged with his own nod. Kirishima didn’t want to leave you, he needed to know you’d be okay. That feeling came in the form of you hugging him.

“Thank you Kirishima. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” The smile you gave him matched the star above and he would remember it. Your still red eyes and stained cheeks were brokenly beautiful under the moonlight the slipped in through the open door. Kirishima bid you good night before you shut the door. You were exhausted and wanted to sleep. Maybe this night would be peaceful, you could only hope. With less pain in your chest you put away the food, turned off the lights, and headed to bed.

Elsewhere, heading back to the dorms Kirishima kept thinking about you. Aizawa stood next to him as the walked back to the large building. Kirishima turned to his teacher finally curious on how he knew that he had been at your house.

“Mr. Aizawa. How did you know that I was at Y/n’s?”

“Bakugou told me.” When the doors opened to the common room of the dorm building Kirishima made direct eye contact with a conflicted Bakugou. He looked furious and concerned. His fist clenched with intent to harm, or maybe to prevent himself from wanting to do so. Mr. Aizawa left the two boys alone reminding them they needed to go to bed. Bakugou never acknowledged their teacher, while Kirishima let out a quick yeah. Once they were alone Bakugou stepped forward. Kirishima watched his friend with caution. He waited for an explosion or yelling that never came. Instead he sighed, unclenching his fist. He looked at Kirishima with a look the red head had never seen before, remorse.

“How is she?” Kirishima could feel the tables turn. He wanted to be anger, to tell his friend to fuck off because he had the chance to find out but didn’t. He wanted to be aggressive and anger but it wasn’t in his blood. He had to let that anger disappear and be replaced with weariness.

“How is she? She’s tired bro. She’s dealing with stuff that someone shouldn’t have to deal with alone and yet she has been. She’s a fucking wreck!” He couldn’t suppress all the anger. He hadn’t meant to yell but it was needed. He couldn’t understand why Bakugou had just let you waste away on your own. How could anyone do that to the person they loved. He would have never let you go this long suffering alone. “She lost someone close to her. Y/n’s leaving a nightmare, becoming friends with demons of blame. She needed you!”

“She didn’t need me.” Kirishima slammed his hardened fist into the wall not caring about the damage he caused. The sound made Bakugou flinch and lift his hand as an act of defense in case he would get hit next. When he looked at his friend, Bakugou expected to see extreme detestation. Instead he was wide eyed while staring at Kirishima crying. Tears came down the mixed emotion boy, he was struggling with how to feel. He was crying for you having to have a boyfriend who thought you didn’t need him. He cried because he would never let you go if he had you. Bakugou watched Kirishima drop his arms to his sides before leaving. He pushed his shoulder into Bakugou’s as he left toward the elevator.

“She needed you… You are just so full of yourself you won’t admit you messed up.” Kirishima didn’t even try to make his words sound powerful, even in their whispered state they hit Bakugou worse than any punch. Once he was alone in the dark room Bakugou let a tear fall. He looked down at his clenched fist. He felt pathetic. He couldn’t hate Kirishima because he was right. Pride was all that Bakugou had and he held it higher than you. He cared more about his image, about himself than you. Time and time again he hurt you and now he had truly fucked up.

“She didn’t need me when she had you. You’re better than me.” Bakugou spoke to the empty room letting more tears fall before going up to his own room. He didn’t spare Kirishima’s room a glance as he walked by. His heart hurt because he had to do something horrible to you in your already crumbling state.

******************

The morning came and you woke up with your alarm. For the first time in days you slept the whole night. You dreamt of her but it was good. You were both happy and laughing and that was okay. It was okay to think about happy times and not bad things. Negative feelings still lingered but you tried to think positively. You got ready for school and before you left you grabbed a photo of you and F/n from middle school. She was flipping off the camera while you laughed with your eyes closed. It was bittersweet. The photo was tucked away into your pocket and you left.

“Y/N!!!!” You were tackled by so many different people that you couldn’t even figure out exactly who yelled your name. Mina was holding you left side, Kaminari on your right. Midoriya was standing in front of you concerned as Uraraka hugged your front. Sero was wrapped around your back. Iida was scolding them for not giving you space. A laugh escaped and everyone awed. You were bombarded by questions; it was overwhelming and you wanted to run but then Kirishima walked into the room. He made eye contact with you and smiled. It filled you with content and confidence to be here. You heart was still heavy and everything seemed surreal but you could make it through a day. You could tell her story to everyone so more people could mourn with you. It was a plan you’d follow through after class. Bakugou walked in a saw you smiling at Momo who commented on your swollen eyes. Your smile wasn’t sad, it was something he couldn’t figure out. He looked away as you turned toward him. His hair was wild, more so than usual. His hands tucked away into his pockets. He seemed like normal Bakugou but something was wrong. He wasn’t standing as tall, metaphorically. There was less fight in him. You grew concerned but that faded to wanting. You missed him, you truly missed him. His warm arms wrapped around you protectively, the way he smelled sweet like caramel. You wanted him to look at you with the loving gaze he saved for private moments. He found himself making eye contact with you and god did he yearn to run to you. To apologize, to hold you and kiss your swollen eyes. You were his happiness; it just took him so long to realize how bad he was for you. His eyes looked away and you looked down. A large gap filled with talkative students filled the space between you both. Except there was a different gap, one that needed to be filled by talking which he was scared to do. One that only you two could see, well maybe not, maybe Kirishima could too.

*******************

“Bakugou!” He cringed at the sound of his last name which was ironic since he was the one that told you to call him it when in public. This was self-sabotage, torture he was inflicting on himself. Your voice called his name with concern. He had been avoiding you all day and after training he left first making sure you couldn’t catch up. Obviously, he was wrong. You caught up and when he stopped you were breathing heavily. He wanted to scream at himself for being such an asshole but instead he waited for you to speak.

“Um I’m sorry for bothering you with my calls. I was having a hard time but I shouldn’t have woken you up. It was selfish of me.” How could you stand there and blame yourself, apologize for something that needed no apology? He did this to you, made you feel like you were a bother, like you had wronged him. He was to blame, he wished you would yell at him, that you would cry. He hated your tears because he was weak emotionally but right now, he wanted nothing more than for you to cry and he could hold you. Except he wouldn’t he would be scared and that would turn to anger and you’d be hurt again. “Bakugou?”

“Shut up.” He had to break your heart so you could be happy. He had to hurt you so someone could heal you. Shattering glass was easy but shattering a person’s heart. That was truly fucked up. “You always apologize for shit that you didn’t do, its annoying. I know you lost some friend; I know you’ve been suffering and yet I didn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t there for you. You needed me and the fucked-up part was that I didn’t care. I left you to suffer alone, I only realized I cared when I felt guilty, after everyone shamed me for hurting you, for letting you isolate yourself. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this to you anymore.”

You are frozen in a moment where your friend killed herself and your boyfriend leaves you. A moment where you broken heart turns to ash. You can taste iron and realize you had bit your lip so hard it started bleeding. The weight of his words pushed down like a pallet of bricks. You were struggling to stay standing, your knees wobbled as you attempted to step forward, to reach for him. He moved just out of your reach. You were afraid of him leaving and he was afraid if you grabbed him, he would stay and do more damage. His own fire that burned in his heart felt dim. His chest was tight and he apologized to anyone he ever made fun of for having their heartbroken. This was worse than damage received during training. You tried to speak but found the same issue you had with Kirishima the day prior. The words were drowned out by hiccups. You let the streams of tears flush down your cheeks. You looked pathetic but who cared. Your heart wasn’t breaking. It was ceasing to exist.

“Please, please don’t leave me. Don’t do this Katsuki, you love me, I love you. I’ll try harder, you aren’t a problem. You don’t hurt me. I love you please don’t leave me alone again.” He could have swept you into his arms but by the time he turned to face you again someone else was on their way to do just that. Bakugou smiled sadly as Kirishima rushed forward. He didn’t want to let you go but he needed you to be loved properly and he didn’t deserve you. Little did he know what he was doing. He was destroying your already fragile state. You weren’t breaking, you were already fragments scattered at his feet. Your legs moved trying to stop him from walking away. Kirishima was faster. He wrapped an arm around you face covering your eyes with his hand. His other arms wrapped protectively around your middle. Your back was flush against his chest and you didn’t want this. You cried against the hand. Your tears smearing onto the rough appendage. Kirishima’s heart broken for you. “DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE, don’t leave me too.”

“You aren’t alone. You have him.” Bakugou walked away his own tears hidden from you but Kirishima had seen them. Kirishima swore he would protect you and love you but his own heart stopped when you yelled after Bakugou.

“I WANT YOU NOT HIM!” A sad shameful thing love is. These two boys loved you and you loved them. It was much more complicated than that. You fell back against Kirishima who was stiff, his own heart hurting. He knew that this wasn’t about his love for you but instead the pain you felt. You needed someone to catch you since you were falling. He held tightly onto you as Bakugou fought the urge to take it all back. He had heard his classmates talk about your friend and how sad you were when you told them about her. You were dealing with enough and you didn’t need him. Maybe one day if life isn’t always cruel you will find love in the form of an angry blonde again but right now you needed someone else. Someone who could put emotions away to help you with your own. Bakugou walked out of your life leaving a gap that Kirishima couldn’t fill. Your friend had left you forever but this didn’t have to be forever right? Bakugou would still be in your life. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing. You wanted to disappear. To go back to that dream where you laughed and danced with your friend. You wanted to go somewhere that boys didn’t break your heart and friends didn’t kill themselves. That place didn’t exist but you found that Kirishima’s hold would have to do for now. You clung to his arm as he whispered encouragement and apologies into your ear. His hand moved off your eyes and you grabbed it. Your fingers entangled with his as you both cried for life’s difficult decisions, for a girl who thought life was to hard to live, for a boy who destroyed his own happiness, for a red haired boy who wanted you to know how much he loved you, and you both cried for you. For you having no happy ending, just a lot of pieces that Kirishima was trying so hard to hold onto for you while other pieces broke away never to be reattached.

Sometimes life doesn’t go perfectly, sometimes people dies and they don’t come back, people break your heart and leave you with open wounds, sometimes you can’t make the pain go away. You have to learn to live with it. Maybe one day you’ll find Bakugou and he’ll tell you how much he fucked up and you’ll tell him you still love him. Or maybe one day you’ll let Kirishima give you his heart and you’ll slowly give him what’s left of yours. Though there is a possibility that you never fall for anyone again because love sucked and you had none left to give. Your friend would tell you to kick Bakugou’s ass, to get ice cream, watch a movie, break something and then you’d laugh because you’d feel better. She isn’t here. Instead it’s you sobbing into Kirishima’s arm in an empty hallway but it won’t always be this.

“I love you Y/n.”

“I know Kiri.”

“One day it won’t hurt so bad.”

“I hope so.”

#mha x reader #mha #mha imagines #mha bakugo katsuki #mha kirishima #mha angst #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha kirishima #kirishima ejirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha angst

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thegoodgayshit · 3 years

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Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Twenty-Six: My Health Bar Gets Way Below My Comfort Zone

The burning in Luz’s leg was getting worse. It had now spread up into her other leg, running down into both her thighs and leaving her unable to do anything but hold her knees and clench her eyes shut.

“What did you do to her?” Luz recognized Amity’s voice, but it sounded like she was listening to it from underwater. The blood was rushing up to her hears, and everything was ringing. “Why does her leg look like that!”

It took Luz a moment to realize Amity was talking about her. She was focusing too hard on trying not to scream.

“Your friend has been shot by a Gorgon’s blood arrow,” said one of the centaurs.

Luz’s eyes snapped open, looking up towards who had spoken. It was the one standing in the middle, and he was clearly the leader of the group. He had long black hair braided around his head and muscles rippling under a navy tunic. “The poison is likely working its way through her system as we speak.”

“You poisoned her?” Amity asked, her voice hitching a couple of octaves higher. With a roar, she started running at him, her xiphos clenched tightly in her hands as she charged.

Thank the god's Willow was paying attention, and she reached forward and wrapped her arms tight around Amity’s waist, holding her still.

“Amity, stop!” She hissed, while the daughter of Aphrodite made angry noises in her arms, struggling to free herself.

“Your friend is right,” said another centaur. He was watching Amity with a glimmer of amusement in his amber eyes, as he swung his bow over his back. His hair was short and cropped, and he wore a tunic as well, but his was a deep green instead of navy. “Gorgon’s blood is a slow death, but it gets more agonizing the longer it seeps into her system. Only we have the cure. If you attack us, she dies.”

Amity made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. Luz’s heart hammered in her chest, the pain now spreading down to both her calves. She groaned in agony, spinning into a fetal position.

“If she dies I will kill every one of you,” Amity retorted, and Willow pulled Amity back a few more steps and covering her mouth with her hand. Amity grunted in protest, and Willow shook her head disbelievingly,

“Amity, get a grip!”

Luz wanted to help, to call Amity back and assure her she was going to be fine, but she was very aware of how much of a lie that would have been. Luz had never been in so much pain in her entire life. She wanted to saw off the entire lower half of her body, knowing that would have been less painful than the poison. She felt like she was on fire, burning from the inside out.

“We won’t attack you,” Gus said quickly, stepping forward with his hands in the air. He’d retracted his spear and shield, and stepped slowly in front of Willow and Amity. “My name is Augustus, the son of Athena. We’re here on behalf of the gods.”

“Likely story,” growled the first centaur. His eyes were narrowed at Gus, eyeing him up and down. “That is what he said too, and now the Mountain is being poisoned before our very eyes. Do you think us foolish? We know better than to fall for a second trick.”

For a dangerous moment, Gus faltered. “What do you mean, poisoned?”

“Don’t play coy!” The centaur spat, “ you already know that every day the Mountain grows weaker, and more rise from beyond. The son of Hecate cannot draw more from it, or it will collapse and destroy us. We refuse to let more enemies of Olympus into our land and talk their way to the hearth.”

“It is no trick,” Gus insisted, “we’ve been given a prophecy to come here and stop Belos. I can prove it.”

He turned his back and walked towards Amity, taking her shield from her arm. He then turned and crouched next to Luz, grabbing Aletheia and patting her on the shoulder.

“Hang in there,” he whispered. Luz opened her mouth in an attempt to assure him she was indeed trying really hard not to die, but nothing came out besides a low groan.

Her arm was starting to go numb. She was pretty sure the only time that happened was when you were about to have a heart attack. Maybe she would die of one and the pain would finally stop.

Gus walked forward with the weapons and the centaurs tensed, readying their bows. Except the second, who just watched Gus curiously, remaining unmoving.

“I present the weapon and shield of Peleus, the first to train on your mountain,” he said, holding them up for all the centaurs to see. “Granted to us by the goddess Aphrodite, to aid her daughter on the quest to save Olympus.”

There was a silence that filled the clearing, leaving Luz nothing to focus on besides the agony in her body. She prayed to the gods somebody would just say something.

The centaurs shuffled uneasily, their hooves clopping on the rocks and they murmured to one another. The centaur next to the leader leaned in and whispered something Luz couldn’t catch. The tail of the leader flicked in annoyance like he wanted nothing more than to just kill all four of them.

“And this… girl here is the daughter of Aphrodite?” The leader said, gesturing to Luz who was on the floor. Gus shook his head and gestured to Amity and then Willow. Willow managed a small smile, but Amity was still glaring daggers at the centaurs.

“This is Amity, the daughter of Aphrodite and Willow, daughter of Demeter.” He turned to Luz with a sympathetic grimace. “That is Luz, daughter of Hermes.”

There was another round of mumbling, and Luz swallowed hard, zoning in and out as the centaurs conversed with one another quietly. The leader of the centaurs was now looking very nervous.

The numbness had faded in her arm and now was replaced with that terrible burning sensation. If Gus hadn’t taken her sword she would have cut it off just to stop it.

She let out an uncontrollable cry of pain, and the leader of the centaurs flinched.

“Very well,” he said, all his previous hostility fading. “Tip her head back.”

Gus dropped to his knees next to Luz and put her head in his lap, turning Luz on her back. The act of moving itself was agonizing, and the second Gus opened her mouth it was like a dam opened, and she was crying out uncontrollably. Gus recoiled his hand, eyes widening fearfully.

“Luz! It’s me, I’m trying to help you!”

Tears pricked at her eyes. “It hurts…” she groaned, but managed to lift a shaky hand and stuff her fist in her mouth, biting down hard to muffle her shouting.

There was the muffled sound of hooves against the dirt, and the quiet voice of the second centaur.

“Get her to drink this.”

There was the sound of a cork bottle opening, and then Gus’s hand returned on Luz’s face as he tipped her head back, wedging it between Luz’s fist as he poured the contents into her mouth. His hand covered Luz’s, forcing her mouth closed.

“Swallow it,” he said, and despite the tight grip on her face, the words were soft and comforting.

Luz forced the drink down her throat despite the immediate urge to retch. It tasted like battery acid, but if this would get the pain to stop she would drink it a hundred times over.

For a terrifying moment, the pain got worse. Her heart started hammering even faster than it already was, and the burning in her body reached her stomach. It swirled like she drank a hundred gallons of milk, and Luz gasped, leaning over and away from Gus terrified she might puke.

But then the pain from her body began to subside. First, there was the numbness in her arms and legs, and Luz scrambled off Gus and to her knees, breathing heavily. Then, her head slowly started to clear, and she became more aware of her surroundings. The dozen centaurs, watching her anxiously. Willow, biting her lip as she held Amity tightly in her arms. Then there was the daughter of Aphrodite herself, who now looked less angry and more like she was about to burst into tears.

Finally, the numbness left her body completely, and Luz mentally counted to ten. When she finished, the pain had disappeared and she took a big deep breath and shakily got to her feet.

She ran her hands down her shorts, exhausted, but no longer in any pain.

“I… I’m alright,” Luz said, and Willow exhaled in relief, dropping Amity from her arms.

She sprinted over to Luz, catching her in a bone-crushing hug. Luz winced, wrapping her arms around her back.

“This is a little tight,” she mumbled and the girl quickly pulled away, her face beet red.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. She looked around and realized that both Willow and Gus were staring at her, so she crossed her arms, feigning disinterest. “You scared me. Stop almost dying.”

“I’ll try,” Luz said with a shrug, but she was unable to keep the smile off her face. “No promises.”

The leader of the centaurs swished his tail, and Luz turned to look at him properly. He, along with the other centaurs in the group, genuinely looked apologetic. He was holding an empty vial in his hand, clearly, the one that once held whatever cured Luz.

“Had we known who you were, we would not have hit you with that arrow,” he said. “We knew that there were heroes coming to stop Belos, but ever since the Mountain has started dying, we have grown anxious and done our best to keep all intruders out.”

“It’s alright,” Luz said, and while she wasn’t very happy she had been shot by a poisoned arrow, she couldn’t really blame them. If Belos was their enemy, she understood why they were cautious. “But maybe next time we can talk before we shoot.”

The second centaur next to the leader snorted. “The demigod makes a good point.”

“They are known to sometimes do that,” the first replied dryly, but then his face had twisted up into something unpleasant like he just took a nose full of Death Mist. “On occasion, anyway.”

The other centaurs had retracted their bows and slung them over their shoulder, stepping closer to examine Luz and her friends. Amity shuffled uneasily, eyeing them like she was waiting for one to attack, but Luz just stood still, accepting her sword back from Gus and putting the ring back on her finger.

“I am Nessos, the leader of the centaurs,” the first one said, before gesturing to the second one with the cropped hair. “This is my second in command, Pholos. I know it does not seem it, but we are very grateful for your arrival here to Mount Pelion.”

“You said the mountain was going to collapse,” Gus said slowly, stepping next to Luz. “How can an entire mountain just… fall down?”

Nessos looked over to Pholos gravely, and the two just seemed to look at each other before the second turned to look at them.

“The mountain's power comes from the strength of the demigods,” he said slowly, “a gateway between the earth and the sky, a reminder that they are between the mortal world and Olympus. As demigods rise in power, they absorb the strength of the mountain. If the mountain collapses, they will be strong enough to kill a god.”

“Belos is harnessing the power of Hestia for his own uses to control the flow of power within the mountain,” Nessos explained, “every time he uses her power for his personal gains, he gets stronger, faster, and harder to kill. If he uses Hestia’s power to collapse the mountain, he will take her strength as his.”

“He’ll become a god,” Luz concluded, her eyes widening in horror.

“And you can’t just kill a god,” Gus added, his voice unusually small.

“How long do we have?” Willow asked the centaurs, and Nessos and Pholos looked at each other again and shrugged.

“Not long,” Pholos said, frowning. Nessos nodded, his face dark and serious.

“We can already feel our connection to the mountain severing. It won’t be much longer.”

Luz and her friends all looked to one another. Luz knew that they were battered, bruised, and tired. She also knew that they were going to be hopelessly outmatched when they arrived at Belos’ cave. They had no plan, no advantage, and no real way to stop him.

But they also didn’t have much of a choice. And all four of them came to the same conclusion at the same time.

“He needs to be stopped now,” Amity said quietly, and Luz, Willow, and Gus all nodded.

“If we don’t hurry, we’ll run out of time. And then there’s nothing we can do to stop him,” Willow said in agreeance.

Luz turned to the centaurs, her palms already starting to shake in anticipation. This was it. No running, no hiding, no going back.

It was time to be the hero. Azura style.

“We need to find the fastest route up Mount Pelion,” Luz said, recalling her earlier dream. “The entrance to Hestia’s prison has two bronze statues outside in the shape of a sword and a shield. Do you know where that is?”

Pholos grinned like he’d been waiting for them to ask that. “Do we know where it is? Does Hera like her eggs over easy?”

Luz blinked, now confused. Pholos sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, the answer is yes.” He whistled with his fingers, and three other centaurs came galloping up to them, each stopping next to Willow, Gus, and Amity respectively. Pholos stood next to Luz, gesturing with his head. “Hop on, half-blood. We can get you there.”

Luz thought she knew what riding a horse was like. She’d ridden ponies at state fairs when she was a kid, so she figured hey, it can’t be that different.

She was wrong.

Centaurs are fast. Like, really fast. Luz had a feeling Pholos wasn’t even going anywhere near full speed as he weaved between trees. Luz had to wrap her arms around his neck just to hang on.

“You alright there, Luz?” Pholos asked as he followed Nessos, who was leading them around some rocky terrain.

“Fine, my stomach just hasn’t quite finished settling from the poison,” Luz said, and though it wasn’t nearly loud enough to be audible, Pholos chuckled, taking a huge leap over a boulder and hitting the ground running.

“Sorry about that. If it helps, you won’t be sick. We gave you the other vial of Gorgon’s blood as the antidote. That should stop you from feeling any illnesses, disease, or ailment for at least the next hour.” Pholos rubbed the back of his neck, and Luz realized that despite the centaurs being over centuries old, it was a very modern gesture. “Sorry about me, you know, shooting you.”

“You shot me?” Luz asked in surprise, her eyebrows raising. Pholos cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah, I’m Nessos’ second. His arrow missed, so I had to shoot next.”

Luz suddenly remembered something Gus had told her back on the bus to Denver. “I thought centaurs were supposed to be able to tell when they’re being deceived. Couldn’t you tell we were trying to stop Belos when you saw us?”

Pholos paused, not saying anything for a moment. Luz wondered if she’d hurt his feelings.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you weren’t,” he said quickly, tapping his temple with a finger. “I could tell. You’re right, the centaurs on this mountain have a way of telling when somebody is lying or not telling the whole truth. We have a way of understanding the pieces to a whole before even talking to mortals.”

“So why’d you shoot at us?” Luz asked again, now frowning. “We’re not lying about our intentions.”

There was another tense silence. Luz was now wondering if the second in command was messing with her.

But then he turned his head, looking at Luz with a deep sadness in his eyes.

“You’re not lying, Luz. But somebody in your party is.”

There was a cold pulsing sensation that flushed through Luz’s stomach. Her mouth dropped open on its own, and she quickly closed it, remembering Pholos’ quick warning about flies he’d given her before they’d taken off running.

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, her hands in his mane clenching instinctively. “None of my friends would lie to me.”

“Lies take many forms,” Pholos offered, but Luz could tell by the tone of his voice he was trying to make her feel better. “We feel them like waves from the ocean, magnetic and pulsing. The stronger the lie the greater the wave gives off. It is how we track mortals down on the mountain. We felt the wave with your party this morning, and it took us all day to track you.”

Luz sat there silently, trying to process what he was saying. “So… that’s unusual?”

“Very,” he said seriously. “It’s the longest it’s taken us to track mortals in over a hundred years.”

“So it’s not that bad of a lie then,” Luz said, but Pholos shook his head, and Luz’s spirits dampened once again.

“It is not the severity of the lie that was masked the pulse, it was the guilt.”

“What do you mean guilt?” Luz said, starting to feel herself getting frustrated that he wasn’t giving her a straight answer. “What does that have to do with it?”

“Everything!” the centaur insisted. “The demigods who try to deceive us rarely feel guilty. They see our paths as a means to an end. Your friend is masking the lie with guilt, and suppressing it to a point where she was able to hide it from us. But right before we found you… the mask faded. It was why Nessos was so insistent on killing you. The second the mask faded, it was like a siren went off. All the centaurs felt it at once.”

Luz prided herself on being optimistic. It was one of the things she was known for. She always did her best to look on the bright side. But as Pholos talked, she started to put the pieces together. Who would feel guilty about lying to Luz? What happened right before the centaurs found them?

Pholos must have felt that Luz put it all together because he was quiet as they rode through the mountain. Luz turned her head to the centaurs trailing them and saw Amity sitting on the back of one with dark hair and a silver tunic. Amity locked eyes with her and gave Luz a little smile.

Luz turned her head back, unable to keep looking. They rode in silence for a few more minutes, before Pholos cleared his throat again.

“You know, I once had a hard time seeing the truth for what it was. Before I joined the centaurs on this mountain, I was a member of the Party Ponies. It took a long time for me to realize that I was only scratching the surface of what it meant to live. There is more to life than letting yourself stay in a place of complacency and happiness forever. There is no true freedom without taking a risk.”

“What do you mean?” Luz asked, hanging onto every word.

“It’s not easy,” Pholos said, looking back to smile reassuringly at Luz. “But sometimes the only way to understand the truth is to make yourself vulnerable to it. Then you’re able to make room for growth.”

Pholos turned his focus back on running, leaving Luz alone with her thoughts for a couple of minutes. She didn’t really understand what he was saying, but she supposed the being who was able to sense the lies from the truth knew what he was talking about. She just couldn’t shake the discomfort in her belly at the idea of confrontation. Luz didn’t want the optimistic part of her to be disappointed.

Life was never easy for Luz. If she dwelled on disappointment, it would swallow her whole.

She turned her head again and caught Amity talking with the centaur she was riding. They were engrossed in conversation, and Luz couldn’t help but smile when she saw Amity tip her head back and laugh.

Luz knew that even if Amity could trust her with the truth, she could make sure she knew to trust Luz when she was ready. Even if the truth would hurt Luz more than that poisoned arrow.

Pholos skidded to a halt, and Luz had to cling to him so she wouldn’t go flying off. When she looked up, she saw that Nessos had held up his hand to the centaurs, and they all huddled in a U shape around a safe enclosure of trees. Pholos nodded to Luz, and she slid off his back and hit the ground with a soft thump. Her friends had all done the same, and the four of them were now hiding behind a thick tree just near the edge of the clearing.

Luz peaked out and saw a rocky path leading towards a crevice in the side of the mountain. It was just like in Luz’s dream. The entrance was wide, easily over eight feet and it led straight into an open room Luz’s eyes couldn’t make out. There were the two bronze statues, and now that Luz got a closer look at them, she almost gasped out loud when she realized what they were.

Amity gently pinched her arm to stop her, and when Luz turned to look at her, and she shook her head, gesturing to just next to them.

There were two figures leaning against one of the statues, talking amicably. Luz couldn’t hear them, they were still much too far away, but she recognized both of them immediately.

The hulking figure in the white tank top from her dream, and the attractive boy with curly brown hair and a pearly smile.

Achilles and Theseus.

Standing right next to the massive bronze statues of Luz’s sword and Amity’s shield.

#the owl house #lumity #luz x amity #Percy Jackson AU #shelby speaks

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route22ny · 4 years

Link

Once it reaches the Great Lakes Water Authority's (GLWA) treatment plants, water is pulled from the mix, sanitized, and discharged into the Detroit River. What's left behind at the treatment plants is sewage sludge — a highly toxic, semi-solid blend of human feces and every pollutant that was discharged into the sewers.

Despite the fact that it teems with potentially dangerous chemicals, the sludge is then spread on farmland.

Nutrients in human excrement, like phosphorus and nitrogen, help plants grow, so sewerage departments across the country lightly treat sludge and repackage it as a fertilizer called "biosolids" that are given away or sold for cheap to farmers.

Biosolids are a "valuable resource" that has been "shown to produce significant improvements in crop growth and yield," according to the Environmental Protection Agency, which approved the practice in the mid-1990s. By 2018, more than 50% of the approximately 130 million wet tons of sludge the nation produced annually was applied to farmland.

But the practice is increasingly controversial. Public health advocates say any amount of the approximately 90,000 synthetic chemicals in existence, from VOCs to BPAs to PCBs, can be represented in sludge. It can also be packed with superbugs, parasites, worms, hormones, viruses, and bacteria that aren't killed in the treatment process.

Studies show the pollutants are carried to farmland, taken up by crops, and can end up on dinner plates. That's fueling a growing number of biosolid-linked public-health crises that are making people sick, polluting drinking water, and pitting farmer against farmer.

In Michigan, officials are discovering sludge packed with toxic PFAS, and a growing alliance of farmers, public health advocates, and environmentalists are calling for a ban on spreading the substance on cropland.

"The best solution is to get this stuff off the market," says Christy McGillivray, legislative director of the Sierra Club of Michigan. "Anything that was flushed down the toilet — any hazardous chemical that we use in our everyday systems — winds up in a wastewater treatment plant, so there are a lot of questions about biosolids' safety."

Municipalities in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Florida, among others, have prohibited biosolids, while Maine has restricted their use. In 2003, Switzerland became the first country to outlaw them, and businesses like Whole Foods and Del Monte tell Metro Times they won't buy crops grown in sludge.

But the powerful waste-management industry and regulators are resistant to prohibition. Sludge is an expensive byproduct that's difficult to dispose of, and selling it to farmers is a cheap solution to the problem. In a statement to Metro Times, the GLWA — which churns out more biosolids than any of the nation's other sewerage authorities — insisted its sludge is safe.

Though state regulators "expect" PFAS to be present in sludge, Scott Dean, a spokesman with the Michigan Department of Environment, Great Lakes, and Energy (EGLE), downplayed the threat to human health.

"Due to the fact that biosolids themselves are applied in low amounts in relation to the soil mass in a farm field, they would not be expected to accumulate to the extent to cause adverse effects to public health or the environment," he said.

He noted that EGLE is forcing many PFAS polluters to stop discharging the chemical into sewers, but the state doesn't plan to test for most of the other 90,000 chemicals that exist.

'You're going to drop dead'

In a scathing 2018 report, the EPA's Office Of Inspector General wrote that it found 352 contaminants, including 61 it classified as "acutely hazardous, hazardous, or priority pollutants" in biosolids it tested. Among other substances, it detected PFAS, pharmaceuticals, steroids, and flame retardants.

Despite the potential for high toxicity, federal law only requires wastewater treatment plants to consistently monitor for nine heavy metals, intermittently test for other contaminants and kill most pathogens and living organisms by using heat or dolomitic lime. The latter lowers the ph to make it more acidic and inhospitable to organisms.

The EPA's OIG found the agency can't properly regulate sludge because it doesn't have the tools to assess the safety of all the other pollutants found in biosolids.

"Biosolids [have] everything that goes down the drain from funeral homes to slaughterhouses to everyone's toilet that's hooked up to the sewer system," says David Lewis, a former EPA microbiologist opposed to the use of biosolids. "All of these things are unsafe, according to scientific literature, so how does adding lime and putting it on land make it safe?"

Moreover, individual chemicals that aren't dangerous on their own can become toxic when mixed. Lewis likens the situation to going into a pharmacy, grabbing different bottles off the shelf, and swallowing pills.

"You're going to drop dead, and that's what we're doing with sludge," Lewis says.

A growing body of evidence highlights the risks. A 2013 University of North Carolina study found 75% of people living near farms that spread biosolids experienced health issues like burning eyes, nausea, vomiting, boils, and rashes. A University of Georgia study found similar issues, while others living near sludge fields have contracted MRSA, a penicillin-resistant "superbug."

Lewis investigated two deaths near fields where sludge was spread and found that the substance triggered reactions that killed the two people. More recently, he's linked the substance to autism.

In Georgia, sludge killed an entire herd of cows. In Maine and New Mexico, farmers last year had to put down herds of cows found to be filled with PFAS and producing toxic milk. Last week, officials in Maine discovered cows teeming with the highest levels of PFAS ever found in the animals. Meanwhile, biosolid treatment centers are sources of air and water pollution — the substance is thought to be partly responsible for toxic algae blooms in the Great Lakes and Florida.

A brief history of sewage sludge

Before the 1973 Clean Water Act (CWA), industry discharged its waste directly into the nation's waterways. Rivers became so polluted that those in industrial regions like Michigan and Ohio regularly caught fire.

The CWA mandated a proliferation of wastewater treatment plants that would take in human and industrial waste via the nation's expanding sewer system, then spit out clean water into its rivers.

America's waters quit burning, but the solution presented a new problem — sewage sludge. At first, it was dropped in the ocean, but that created large dead zones. Then industry tried burning it, but that often violated the Clean Air Act.

Despite the fact that sludge was too toxic for the ocean or air, the EPA in 1993 approved a rule change that would allow it to be spread on farmland. Lewis says scientists at the agency uniformly opposed the idea, but leadership pressed forward with approval.

"Not a single study demonstrated that this practice was safe," he adds.

These days, when sludge isn't spread on farmland, it's either landfilled or, in some cases, incinerated with pollution controls.

Raising a stink in rural Michigan

Several years ago, Yankee Springs resident Willard Case made an alarming discovery — nitrate levels in his property's wells had spiked.

While nitrates are found naturally in groundwater, and at low levels aren't a problem, high levels can cause health problems, especially for children and pregnant women. Case contacted local health authorities, but says they only instructed him to dig more wells to find clean water.

However, his attempts to do so only yielded contaminated water, and Case says the source of the contamination is obvious: A neighboring business had applied one million gallons of sludge to its property, while two other farmers in the small farm town 35 minutes south of Grand Rapids filled their fields with biosolids.

Case says he contacted EGLE and the agency found PFAS in the sludge, but it isn't initiating a cleanup. It tested for PFAS, but Case says he's worried about other chemicals that could be in the biosolids or in his well. He calls the situation "disturbing."

"They're only checking for PFAS because that's the loudest bell ringing, but I think there are other chemicals in there," Case says. "They're injecting the ground with this stuff and impregnating it with chemicals that we can't control. We're going to lose these beautiful farm fields."

Case's problems with his neighbors' sludge is emblematic of the types of disputes playing out in rural areas across Michigan. Neighbors of farmers who spread sludge say they fear well contamination and pollution of local waterways that serve entire farm communities. Several farmers told Metro Times that the smell is terrible. Don Dickerson, a farmer with land in Michigan and Ohio, said he found his home and property coated in sludge dust after his neighbor applied it.

While Michigan municipalities can't specifically prohibit farmers from spreading sludge, Summerfield Township, which sits about 20 miles west of Monroe, passed a broad waste disposal ordinance that covers potential contamination and is applicable to all industries.

Summerfield Township Supervisor John Chandler says the township's leaders are responding to a public health need and demand from residents who don't want it spread near their homes.

"Maybe sludge is safe and maybe it's not so safe," Chandler says. "But it's too risky. We stand on that as a township, and say 'Go spread it somewhere else' because we don't want it here. Nobody I know is for sludge, and I would say anybody who would be for it is likely a farmer who wants free fertilizer."

The earth in the region around Summerfield is cracked and filled with sinkholes, Chandler adds, and that makes sludge especially risky in terms of contaminating groundwater and wells.

"My worry is what the heck is in it?" Chandler asks. "And how would you ever remediate that?"

Is free fertilizer worth the cost and risk?

Case says there's too much at stake.

"It's crazy — they're playing Russian roulette with our health," he says.

PFAS: A farm-to-table toxin

For years, Michigan regulators told residents that biosolids were safe as farmers unknowingly spread PFAS-laden sludge on cropland. Then it became clear that PFAS presents a threat to human health.

Over the last two years, EGLE discovered PFAS in sludge at 41 wastewater treatment plants, but the agency has only tested about a quarter of the state's 400 facilities. It ultimately ordered five plants to stop sending sludge to farmers.

Public health advocates say the PFAS issue highlights biosolids' fundamental problem — no one knows what other dangerous chemicals are lurking in it.

"Regulators completely miss emerging contaminants — like PFAS — as well as pharmaceuticals and a whole host of other chemicals used widely today that find their way into crops," says Colin O'Neil, legislative director at Environmental Working Group, which tracks PFAS contamination.

PFAS, or per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, are toxic chemicals used to make a wide range of products water- and stain-resistant. About 7,500 varieties exist, and those that have been studied are linked to cancer, thyroid disorders, autoimmune disorders, deformities in newborns, liver disease, and a range of other serious health issues.

Current surface water recommendations are set at 70 parts per trillion for PFOS and PFOA — two types of PFAS — in drinking water. In sludge, the state has found an alarming median of nearly 70,000 ppt in sludge, though there are no environmental quality standards for biosolids.

State records pulled from the MIWaters website show how the dangerous chemicals can make their way from industry to Michiganders' food.

In November 2018, a US Ecology-owned toxic-waste landfill in Van Buren Township discharged water with PFOS levels as high as 60 ppt. Records show neighboring landfills sent out water with levels as high as 420 ppt.

En route to a wastewater treatment plant, that mixed with PFAS-laden discharge from the region's other industries. The plant treated the sludge and produced biosolids with 25 different types of PFAS totaling over 32,000 ppt.

The biosolids were then shipped out to farmers and spread onto cropland or sent to landfills. Though there are no limits on PFAS in biosolids, the 32,000 ppt should raise alarm, O'Neil says.

"Where they're finding PFAS, [farmers] need to be alerted to that fact, as that might inform whether or not they choose to spread biosolids on the farm in the first place," he says.

In a written statement to Metro Times, Dean says EGLE doesn't directly alert farmers when high levels of the chemicals are found in sludge.

'We can all surmise that it's not good'

So how much PFAS and other dangerous contaminants ultimately make it to our food? That's unclear, but there's evidence that it does, and that's especially true for PFAS, which easily move through the environment.

Still, regulators haven't acted quickly, and there's no clear picture of the health impact, says Denise Trabbic-Pointer, a former DuPont chemist who now tracks PFAS contamination for the Sierra Club.

"We can all surmise that it's not good, but nobody knows what the number is," she says. "I wish that [regulators] would put a little more effort into looking at it, worrying about it, and following through on it."

A recent veterinary study found that sludge caused reproductive problems in sheep grazing in fields on which farmers spread sludge. The findings "highlight potential risks" for humans and animals, said Dr. Richard Lea, the study's author.

"There are quite worrying implications for female fertility in the human," he wrote, adding that "there's a very high chance" that the chemicals would end up in humans who eat the meat.

Researchers found the sheep had absorbed high levels of phthalates and PCBs, which each cause a range of serious health problems like cancer and early puberty in children.

Multiple other studies found pharmaceuticals and other chemicals in plants grown in sludge.

In Maine, farmers who spread biosolids on a cattle farm have blood with the highest PFAS levels on record in a Maine resident.

Even though Michigan agriculture officials have acknowledged that PFAS are in the state's cows, an official said last year that regulators won't test milk, for fear of the damage it could do to the dairy industry.

Safe sludge?

EGLE's Dean, however, notes that the state is taking some serious steps to reduce PFAS levels in sludge. In some cases, PFOA and PFOS levels dropped by about 90% after EGLE identified industries discharging the chemicals into sewers and required them to stop doing so.

EGLE is also testing fields on which contaminated biosolids have been spread to determine how much PFAS is in soil and crops. That will give regulators a clearer picture of how much of the chemical moves from the sewer to Michiganders' dinner plates. PFAS have already been found in corn in a Lapeer field.

"EGLE is a leader in studying PFAS in biosolids through our work to protect public drinking water from these contaminants," Dean says.

In a written statement sent to Metro Times, the Great Lakes Water Authority stressed that it follows the law in testing for contaminants and said it monitors for new pollutants of concern, like PFAS.

"As regulatory agencies identify emerging pollutants, GLWA works with the agencies to develop and implement plans to minimize or eliminate the pollutant from our wastewater discharge," a spokesperson wrote.

But critics say there are flaws in EGLE's approach. It's only regulating two of the 7,500 types of PFAS, though it will soon start testing for five more. It also doesn't consider the cumulative total of each type of PFAS. In a hypothetical scenario, water could have dozens of different types of PFAS that collectively present a dangerous level of the chemicals. But if each is below its individual recommended limit, then it's considered safe.

Despite the uncertainty, Dean says EGLE won't act until it can be proven that the PFAS levels in biosolids are unsafe. He also claimed that there isn't evidence to show that all varieties of PFAS found in water are toxic. However, there's a growing body of data that shows all PFAS present a danger — including the chemical companies' own science and reports from the EPA.

The state's approach puts residents' health and safety second to industry, says McGillivray. She argued that the state should gather data to prove that sludge is safe before allowing it to be spread on the state's food supply.

Moreover, even if all the PFAS are removed from sludge, "every toxic organic chemical that exists on the planet, and everything in municipal and industrial waste remains," says former EPA scientist Lewis.

"When you potentially mix every chemical that exists, you get a mixture that has everything in the universe of pollutants, neurotoxins, carcinogens — you can't get away from that," Lewis adds. "So pulling one chemical out of the universe isn't going to make a difference."

***

https://www.metrotimes.com/detroit/toilet-to-table-michigan-farmers-feed-crops-with-toxic-brew-of-human-and-industrial-waste/Content?oid=25017830

#EPA #food safety #environmental #eat shit and die #agriculture and farming

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atlas-affogato · 7 years

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Two Idiots In Love

I would like to thank @speedygal for encouraging me to write this. This fic would not exist were it not for your incredible support. May I now present, my first ever Star Trek fanfiction.

Two Idiots In Love by AtlasAffogato

Spock lowered himself onto the couch with a sigh. His wrinkled hand grazed over the cover of the well-used book he held. It’s brown leather was cracked and faded from hundreds of hands skimming over the surface. Spock sunk back into the couch and made himself comfortable, something that was hard to achieve in his old age. Fingers traced along the edges, before he flipped it open with the care that one might take with a new born baby. The first yellowing page stared up at him. TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE (JIM & SPOCK) His lip twitched up in a ghost of a smile. He remembered when they first got this photo album, all those years ago.

- “Oh come on Spock, we need a place to keep all our photos.” Jim whined, pulling the photo album off the store shelf. He started flipping through the empty pages. “Once again I must tell you that keeping photographs is highly illogical considering that I have impeccable memory.” Jim threw him a look over his shoulder. “Yes, well I don’t so I’m going to continue to take pictures.” _______ Jim flipped open to the first page and pulled out a permanent marker. “What should we call it?” He mused out loud, tapping the marker against his chin. Spock, who sat across the table, suggested, “It does not have to be over complicated Jim. Jim and Spock would suffice.” Jim nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He scribbled down their names. Just then, McCoy appeared behind Jim with a tray of food. “What’re you doing?”He sat down on Jim’s right and took a bite out of his apple. Jim flashed the doctor a smile. “We’re making a photo album.” McCoy peered at the paper and shook his head. “Nah,” he mumbled around his apple. “That’s not right.” He snatched the marker out of Jim’s hand and wrote TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE above their names. He pulled back, but then as an afterthought but parenthesis around their names. McCoy gave them both a quick smirk. “I fixed it.” He took another bite of his apple.-

Spock found himself missing Doctor McCoy more often these days. The house had been quiet ever since Jim passed, and thoughts of their days in Starfleet arouse frequently. He gazed down at the album. It was old fashioned, and there were many better ways to store images, but Jim had insisted on a photo album from an antique shop, claiming that he was “just behind the times like that.” He flipped open to the first picture. It was an image of Jim holding a tribble close to his face, gazing at the creature lovingly. It was from their time on shore leave; a merchant was selling them and Jim could not resist.

- “Jim I do not think-” “Oh relax Spock, it doesn’t bite.” Jim plucked a tribble off the table and lifted it in his hands. The small creature cooed at Jim, snuggling down on to his hand. A wide grin split across Jim’s face. “Spock, take a picture.” Spock considered arguing, but the loving expression Jim wore could not be resisted. He pulled out a camera and snapped a picture of Jim with the tribble. Jim glanced up at Spock. “Come on Spock, hold it.” Spock shook his head. “Jim, I do not think that is wise.” Jim rolled his eyes affectionately, and placed the tribble in his hands. Spock opened his mouth to argue, but he found himself unable to speak when faced with this adorable creature. The tribble snuffled a bit, shuffling on Spock’s hands. A small smile creeped up on Spock’s face. He looked up at Jim. Jim was watching him, affection written across his face plain as day. Jim did not look away or blush when caught watching, only chuckled and pulled Spock into a side hug. He delicately pulled the tribble away from Spock and set it back on the table. “See?” Jim kept one arm locked around Spocks. “What did I tell ya?” He grinned at Spock and pulled him into a chaste kiss. “I told ya you would love tribbles.”-

Spock traced Jim’s face with a loving hand. How he missed Jim. Gaining a grip on his emotions, Spock flipped to the next picture. And barely contained a laugh. The next image had a young Spock sitting in a chair, frowning deeply, as Doctor McCoy shaved his head.

- “How did you even get gum in your hair?” McCoy asked, expecting the back of Spock’s head. “An adolescent spit his gum at me on my walk back to the ship.” Spock stated with thinly veiled malice. Jim was stuck between feeling bad for Spock and laughing his head off, so he stayed in an awkward limbo of biting his lip and smirking. “Well,” McCoy sighed. “I can’t just cut out a chunk of hair, you’ll look ridiculous, although you don’t have much trouble with that.” Spock gave the doctor a look that clearly said that he was not amused. McCoy continued. “I’m going to have to buzz it all off.” Spock stared at McCoy with wide eyes. “Excuse me Doctor McCoy, human pranks elude me.” McCoy shook his head. “This isn’t a prank Spock. I thought we could use a hair product, but with your Vulcan heritage, I’m afraid the acidity of human hair products would burn off all your hair. Better to cut it.” Spock looked away, instead opting to stare at the floor. “Are you going to be okay with that Spock?” Jim asked in a gentle tone. Spock looked up, and nodded. “Yes. We have no other option.” Jim nodded and grabbed a chair. “Here. Sit here.” Spock obeyed and sat in silence as McCoy shaved his entire head.-

Spock winced. He had hated his hair buzzed, and it was obvious to everyone how much he despised having a buzzed head. He remembered walking onto the bridge for the first time and hearing Sulu choke on his drink. It was awful for months until it finally grew back to the standard length. Spock was happy to turn to the next page. The next page held pictures of the entire bridge team, Doctor McCoy, and Mr. Scott eating ice cream that Uhura had made. They were all laughing and smiling, chocolate covering faces.

- “When did you learn how to make ice cream?” Jim stared, dumbfounded, as Uhura scooped him homemade chocolate ice cream. She rolled her eyes. “It’s not that hard. And I used a machine anyways, which comes with instructions and recipes. All I did was put in ingredients.” “Still,” Sulu murmured, chomping down on ice cream. “It’s really impressive.” Jim took his bowl and sat down at the table in Mess that he always occupied. McCoy sat next to him, pouring chocolate syrup into his ice cream. Chekov sat on McCoy’s other side, who was shoving his face full of vanilla ice cream. Spock sat across from Jim and watched as he shoved spoonful after spoonful down his throat. Spock arched an eyebrow. Uhura sat next to Spock, across from McCoy and peered at him. “Do you not want any Spock?” Spock turned to face her. “I’ve never consumed ice cream, and do not wish to start now.” The entire table went silent. Everyone turned to stare at Spock. “You’ve NEVER had ice cream?!” Scotty exclaimed. Spock blinked. “Ice cream is a human invention and having been raised on Vulcan I can not say that I have ever eaten ice cream.” Uhura shook her head and stood up. “Nope. I’m not letting you get away with this. You are eating ice cream.” She walked over to the counter and filled another bowl with chocolate ice cream. She snagged a spoon from a drawer and set both in front of Spock. Spock gazed up at her, but she just crossed her arms and stared back at him. Spock looked down the table to see everyone watching him expectantly. “I do not wish-” he started, only to be cut off. “Eat it!” “Don’t give us any of that, Spock!” “It’s really good, just try it.” Spock stared down at the bowl, and picked up his spoon. He didn’t move. “Eat, eat, eat, eat.” Jim started up a chant, soon followed by McCoy, Scotty, and everyone else.Uhura started banging on the table. “EAT EAT EAT EAT EAT.” Spock held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. He lifted his spoon and scooped some ice cream. He brought the spoon to his lips and sniffed it. Having no scent, Spock was wary, but he ate it anyways. The entire table cheered as you downed his first spoonful. “Well?” Jim asked expectantly. Spock swallowed before responding. “It is much colder than I was expecting.” “Do you like it is the question.” McCoy stated. Spock nodded. “Yes, it is quite tasty.” He took another bite. Satisfied with his answer, everyone returned to their ice cream with warm smiles. They continued on for a few minutes until Spock stifled a whimper, moving the ice cream around in his mouth before swallowing. He closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping to disperse the awful feeling in his head. “You okay Spock?” Jim inquired. Spock shook his head, eyes still squeezed shut. “No. It seems that I have a headache, but this is unlike any headache I have had in the past.” Jim laughed. Spock frowned and opened his eyes. “I do not believe that this is any laughing matter, Jim.” Jim laughed again and McCoy chuckled. “The Vulcan’s got a brainfreeze.” McCoy laughed. This concerned Spock. “Brainfreeze?” That did no sound pleasurable in the slightest. “Yeah.” McCoy waved his hands around as he spoke. “It’s when you eat ice cream too fast-” “How do I get rid of it?” Spock interrupted, holding his head in his hands. McCoy chuckled. “Put your thumb on the roof of your mouth.” Spock threw him a look that said he didn’t believe him. “It works, believe me.” Not knowing what else to do, Spock stuck his thumb on the roof of his mouth. Which, surprisingly, did work. Once the headache had withdrawn, Spock removed his thumb from his mouth. “Thank you Doctor McCoy.” McCoy nodded back at him, and they continued to finish their ice cream.-

Spock smiled, fully this time. That was a great day. Throughout their marriage Jim had always insisted that they kept their freezer stocked with gallons of ice cream. Spock gazed down at his friends once more and shut the book. He had not been expecting the flood of emotions upon opening the book. Spock leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. After everyone has gone, he remained. Without friends, without a husband. Without youth. Spock shifted into a more comfortable position and took a deep, rattling breath. No more time spent alone. Spock relaxed and let nature return him to the ones he loves.

#star trek #spock #aged spock #jim kirk #spirk #space husbands #my writing #fanfiction

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hold-my-hair-back · 7 years

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Sick!Karlee, Caretaker!Mark

This isn’t a request, and I’m sorry for not doing a request, but as much as I love guys throwing up, I’m a lady who loves ladies, so I needed to write this for myself. Not to mention, I wanted to see how Mark would deal with taking care of someone else. He’s trying. I know I don’t write about these two often, so if you have questions about the two of them, please feel free to ask. :) As always, they have a history, so expect little mentions of drug abuse here and there. Not a mentioned a lot, though. I love you all, so I just want to make sure you are prepared for that. This will just be a short little one while I work on sick!Jem and another sick!Emmett. You guys love sick!Emmet haha. I have several for him. I would love some prompts for Aiden if you have any. Not that I don’t love Em too. <3

Karlee had certainly not expected to wake up feeling so sick. At first, when she woke up, she hadn’t been able to pinpoint the source of her discomfort, but that quickly changed when her an uncomfortable amount of pressure shot through her entire middle. Mark was next to her, sleeping quietly. Karlee always found it funny how Mark was just as quiet sleeping as he was awake. No snores, no sleepy mumbles, no loud breathing, nothing. Just quietness. Not that she had many opportunities to see him sleep. Karlee always went to bed before Mark and Mark was always up in the morning before her. He got, at most, four hours of sleep at night, and she knew there were many nights he didn’t sleep at all. So, because he was actually managing to get some rest, Karlee made sure to be slow and quiet as she sat up in bed, a hand resting on her stomach.

She sat there for a while, but the churning wasn’t stopping. The digital clock on the nightstand read 4:45 am -- a harsh reminder of how early her belly had woken her up. She hadn’t gone to bed until well after midnight as she and Mark decided to have a night full of intimacy with over an hour of foreplay included. The lack of sleep and exhaustion made the situation just that much more unbearable to Karlee. She was a girl who needed at least seven or eights hours of sleep each night to function and even then a few gallons of coffee in the morning.

Her belly let out a loud gurgle and she put her hand it, looking over at Mark quickly. Mark was a light sleeper and he didn’t need to be woken up because her stomach was upset and being loud. Even worse, air bubbles were building up inside of her abdomen and she had to swallow down burps in order to keep quiet. The air was making her usually flat stomach protrude just slightly, causing an uncomfortable amount of pressure against the tight tank top she was wearing. She had been so gassy lately and she wasn’t sure what the cause of that was. She began to softly rub her aching, churning tummy with her hand using the other one to run a hand through her pink hair. This sucked.

The nausea didn’t subside after a few minutes, in fact, it got worse. The gas did, too. Karlee sighed softly, but the sigh turned into a quiet burp that she didn’t have time to stifle. She looked over her shoulder at Mark as she slowly sat on the edge of the bed. Mark was still asleep, making no noise and showing no signs that his sleep was being disturbed, even as her stomach gurgled loudly. Figuring she would risk it, she released a wet belch into her hand, her eyes glued on Mark the whole time. He remained still, the only sign of sleep being the rise and fall of his back as he breathed silently. More gas bubbled in her upset belly and she belched again, however, this one being unintentionally louder. She watched as Mark rolled over onto his side and she held her breath, praying her burping wouldn’t wake him up. Thankfully, besides the movement, nothing changed and he remained asleep. Figuring it wasn’t worth risking anymore, Karlee slipped out of the bed and made her way across the hall to the bathroom. It was small as she and Mark shared a tiny trailer, but neither of them wanted or needed anything more than what they had. However, in that moment, she wished for a bathroom that would be larger have less of an echo.

Another cramp rolled through her middle and Karlee cradled it before putting her hands on either side of the bathroom sink. She closed the door in a desperate attempt to quiet the noises she knew she was going to make, but still remained aware of the fact she could potentially wake Mark up. The worst part was, he wouldn’t even be mad; he wouldn’t even blame her. If he walked through the door, he would just shrug and say it wasn’t a big deal despite the fact that this was probably the most sleep he had gotten in a week. His insomnia had been getting worse but that remained one of the many things they were both aware of but just never talked about.

A painful cramp brought up a loud, lengthy burp that had her gripping the sink with both hands and pulling her away from her concern for Mark. She didn’t bother to stifle them at this point. She continued to burp, each one wetter and louder than the last. Her stomach was less bloated now that she was releasing the air, but it churned more and more with each hiccup and burp. She was was in the middle of one that was lasting for a good few seconds when a knock on the door startled her. Damn it.

“Just a -- urrrrrrrrrrrp -- second,” she quickly called through the door. A wet, short belch escaped her and she put a hand over her mouth as she tasted acid. “I need to throw up.”

The door opened and Mark stepped in. His red hair was a mess on top of his head, and his green eyes were looking right at her. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. Was he mad? Was he concerned? Confused? Karlee never could tell with him. “Did I wake you?” she asked, pulling herself away from the sink.

Mark just shrugged and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I was going to be awake soon anyway,” he told her.

Karlee looked down, feeling guilty. “I’m -- urp -- sorry.” Karlee pressed a hand to mouth, grimacing at the acidic taste that splashed on her tongue.

Mark just shook his head, uncrossing his arms and taking a step closer. Gently, he turned Karlee around and lowered her to her knees in front of the toilet. Karlee bit her lip as the lid was lifted in front of her and she was staring down into the taunting water. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admitted softly, resting her elbow on the rim and holding her head up with her hand. She felt Mark brush her hair back out of her face with his gentle hands and smiled softly as he put it up in a ponytail for her. “I’ve been feeling so off lately.”

“For how long?” Mark asked, sitting on the floor beside her. “And what does ‘off’ mean?”

Karlee looked into the toilet bowl, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “For like a week, I guess.” She leaned forward and spit out the saliva that was pooling in her mouth. “It’s hard to explain, Mark.” Mark as always was silent, but Karlee was more than grateful when she felt a large hand on her back. “I just wish it would end,” she continued.

“I’d suggest a doctor, but you know what they say to us whenever we walk through those doors,” Mark pointed out, tucking a small strand of pink hair behind her ear.

Karlee nodded slowly. Yeah, she knew exactly what Mark was talking about. Every problem the two of them had were waved away by doctors because of their history with substance abuse. Upset stomach? Must be because they used heroin. Migraine? Same thing. Hell, Mark had pneumonia a month ago, and at first, they were trying to pass it as withdrawals coming back and then accused him of using again. It was sickening. Especially since it took so much convincing to get him to a doctor in the first place. It was an ‘I’ll sleep it off for a few days and go back to work’ kind of guy. Which was probably how his cold turned into pneumonia in the first place. “Yeah,” she whispered after a while in agreement. She burped again, her stomach lurching visibly with a jolt and she groaned softly.

Mark remained quiet, and Karlee was actually thankful for that. Some liked to be consoled and whispered to, but neither her or Mark were really the type to want that. She knew he was there, and she didn’t need to be told that. Even as he burped up a small mouthful of vomit into the toilet, Mark didn’t react, which is exactly what she needed. Otherwise, she would probably feel embarrassed. A long, painful gag brought up more vomit into the toilet, and she made a mental note to chew better because it was not coming up easily. It was thick and chunky, and she kept choking on it as it rose to her throat. Coughing harshly into the toilet brought up another mouthful that fell into the toilet with a loud plop. “Gross,” she muttered with a shudder.

The toilet was flushed for her, probably to avoid overflowing it as she continued to get sick. The vomit she brought up this time in the now clean water was more liquid than solid, making it easier to get up. Hopefully, that meant this was coming to an end. She just wished she knew what had made her so sick in the first place. The next heave only brought up a trickle of bile and saliva which she wiped away with her hand before spitting into the water.

“Done?” Mark asked, speaking up for the first time as he flushed the toilet again.

Karlee nodded, sniffing back the vomit that had entered her nasal cavity during the more intense bouts. “Yeah,” she answered. Her voice was hoarse and raspy due to the stomach acid, and despite knowing she needed to wait a little while, Karlee stood up and headed for the sink, grabbing her toothbrush. What had been making her sick was bothering her, and halfway through brushing her teeth, she slowly lowered her toothbrush and spit into the sink. She didn’t have the courage to turn around and look Mark in the eyes face-to-face, but she looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was back to leaning against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Her silent guardian.

“I’m late,” she said after a long moment of hesitation. She spat into the sink again and distracted herself by splashing a handful of cold water into her face.

Mark just shook his head once, his eyebrow furrowing just slightly. “Late? Late for what?”

Karlee hesitated again, biting her lip. Of course he wouldn’t understand. What guy would after being given just that? “Late,” she repeated, looking at him through the mirror like the coward she was. “For my…period.”

“Oh.” The response was stoic and expressionless, and Karlee was confused as to why she hadn’t gotten a bigger response than that. However, Mark’s expression then changed and he repeated himself, this time just a hint of surprise behind his tone. Apparently, it hadn’t clicked until just now.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Pretty late actually and last night when we had sex, I noticed you grabbing my boobs kinda hurt. I didn’t think much of it, and I usually love it when you do that, but they were just so damn tender and now I think I know why.”

Mark’s expression was impossible to read as always and Karlee turned around to face him finally. “Damn it, Mark, for once I actually want you to speak up and say something because I’m terrified.”

Mark took a step closer to Karlee and he uncrossed his arms so he could put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not alone,” he stated simply. Despite the lack of tone and emotion behind it, Karlee knew it was sincere and she pulled him into a hug. She didn’t want Mark to react emotionally because that just wasn’t Mark. She just needed to hear those words and it was like he could read her mind when he did say them.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I know I’m not. I just... needed to hear that.”

“I understand.”

Karlee wasn’t sure how this was going to map out, but at least she knew that she would have this man every step of the way. It made the weight of the situation lighter and she relaxed into his arms. She would be fine. They both would be.

#emetophilia #OC #Sick!Karlee #Karlee #Mark #Puking #Uh-oh #They might be in trouble now #And I have such a thing for Karlee #I have a thing for my own character #Why am I like this?

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mylockblog-blog · 5 years

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The Top Ten Myths About Snakes

It would be safe to say, every child who ventured out of doors at one time or another has been warned to keep an eye pealed for one of these incredible animals, less you become another victim who fell prey to a mi-roding reptile known as the "Hoop Snake". This extra long and muscular snake has the capabilities of forming a perfect 360 degree circle with its body while on the ground. Then it takes its tail into its mouth forming a living Hula-Hoop, Like magic, it flips up onto its side and the chase is on!

Rolling at incredible speeds dodging trees, cars and any other object in its path, the viscious Hoop Snake chases its victim down, up hills, down hills, up sets of steps, through the yard and over the neighborhood cat, nothing can stop this ancient reptile when it is on the trail of a child, their favorite prey. As a child, I looked around every corner to insure my safety against this well known snake and I guess I did a good job of avoiding it, as I never did get to see one, or meet another kid who either saw one or was chased by one. I would guess my generation was faster then the generations of past, as just about every adult who spoke of this creature was a former victim or had a relative who was scourged by a Hoop Snake. It is sad when kids grow up and realize there are no Hoop Snakes, It played a large part in most kids lives. The adults told their stories with such an intense dread in their voice and described this animal in such detail, a kid never had a chance.

There is no telling how many kids got a spanking by the originators of this tail for being late for supper or for not being on time simply because they walked slow, looking at every spot in the distance where a Hoop Snake might lay in wait for them, while on their way home. It was a very confusing time for a lot of kids in my former neighborhood, I can tell you that with all honesty. Now I realize there never was nor will there ever be a Hoop Snake and I am saddened by this mostly because of the time lost during my child hood. Can you just imagine the strength it would possess had this animal been real? To be able to flip up onto its side defies the laws of physics as does its ability to swerve in and out of trees and other objects while its eyes are looking either down or up and never seeing what Lay in its path. Well I guess I provided a few adults with a little bit of laughter as they watched me walk away looking around every corner I came to. This tale is busted, never was a Hoop Snake, never will be.

Next we have the dreaded Milk Snake who was responsible for kids acquiring brittle bone disease. As a kid, I was told to drink all of my milk because there has been an increase of Milk Snakes due to the heavy rains and there was sure to be a milk shortage fairly soon. This Milk Snake was not related to the real milk snake, a member of the King Snake family, (Lampropeltis triangulum), not at all. This snake was long and fat, all black and slipped into barns under the cloak of darkness, moving along slowly and deliberately, a cow never stood a chance. It would latch onto the cows utter and never giving a thought to the kids whose teeth were sure to fall out and then acquire brittle bones, it sucked that poor cow dry. We were told that farmers would come to the barn at day break to find dust leaving the cows utter as they attempted to milk it.

Some farmers had a bounty on this snake and would pay big bucks for every milk snake that was brought to them. I never really thought about it but can you imagine how large the milk snake must have been to consume three to four gallons of milk at a single sitting? We are talking twenty-five feet and as big around as a football. Surely a snake that large would have been easy to find but like the vampire who was able to drink six liters of blood from a single human victim, it was magic because no one ever collected the first dollar of all of the bounty's offered for this milk thief, not one. Again sad to say the milk snake is a myth, never was one, never will be. Snakes are actually lactose intolerant and forcing a snake to drink two ounces of snake could very well cause its demise. Fooled again!

What ever happened to the new species of snake called the "Venomous Bull Snake"? This frightening animal is the product of two very amorous and very different species of snakes who happened upon one and other a short time back. The male was a Eastern Diamondback rattlesnake who came upon a Southern Pine snake, they glanced at one and other, stars were seen by both and cupid started shooting arrows everywhere and they fell madly in love with one and other. Like all married couples (back then) they had a mess of young uns. These were not ordinary young uns but snakes with half of the fathers defencive weaponry and half the mothers. Totaled up, the Bull snake as it was named was one bad animal to run across in the woods.

It had long folding fangs and huge venom glands, it was longer then its mother and father by two feet. It had cat like black eyes and its head was shaped like a coffin. This snake was naturally mean because all the other snakes would have nothing to do with it and it would bite anything it came upon from Sherie anger built up inside it. As a kid, I avoided so many field trips to the local woods for fear of running into the venomous Bull Snake. Now I realize that it had the correct name "Bull" because I learned that a rattlesnake and a pine snake have about as much of a chance of reproducing as a cat and a dog would have should they wed! Again, busted, no real bull snakes, never was never will be, again, some adults idea of making a kid look like an idiot.

Next we have the Coach whip snake, a mean and dastardly critter who would chase you down, trip you and whip the shirt right off your back, for no good reason at all, just down right meanness. A Coach whip was supposed to take one look at a child and for reasons unknown become enraged, it was a fast snake, faster then the average eight year old anyway. It would get in front of the running kid and trip him up causing him to fall and by the time the kid knew what was happening the whip snake would use its specially braided tail to flog the poor child half to death. The local hospital had a ward set up just for victims of whip Snake attack. I never met a victim but every adult I ever met knew the name of some kid unfortunate enough to cross paths with this brutal killer. The last man attacking Whip Snake was killed on the day I became an adult, what a shame I never got to warn my kids about this monster of the deep woods. They were replaced bu a kindly thin Whip Snake belonging to the family Masticophis and nip when caught but never use their braided tails to harm humans at all. Funny how things work out isn't it.

Have you heard about the wonderful mother snake that will protect her babies at all costs to herself? This super mom snake will open her mouth as wide as possible when ever she senses danger in the immediate area and scoops all of her babies inside and scurries off to safety? What a terrific gal, this is how the southern Cottonmouth is said to protect her brood of unskilled young. The average litter of young delivered by this species is between 8 and 24 young, they average about 11 inches each, making this a real mouthful. I have meet and talked to three different people in my carrier who are adamant about witnessing such an event in the wilds of Georgia and Alabama. Want a surprise, I believe them and am sure they saw the large Cottonmouth take up some smaller ones next to her. The thing I differ with was the larger snakes motives! The larger Cottonmouth was doing what I like to call "having lunch"! Both Cottonmouths and Copperheads are members of the family Agkistrodon and one trait enamored to this family is they tend to be on the cannibalistic side and will eat members of their own species as fast as they would eat other species of snakes. Three young Cottonmouths are a mouthful and the digestive acids would kill any living entities in the throat or stomach. They are not regurgitated later unless she becomes ill and believe me, they are in no condition to crawl off. This myth is busted, never happened and never will, sorry guys.

Next is the snake with the toxic breath! one real bad individual, This snake does not have fangs nor does it have venom, its defensive weapon is its Toxic breath. It seems as though it has the capability of releasing a gaseous type of nerve paralyzing mist when it is dealing with a human who intentions are to hold it captive. It is said to puff up its body by taking in all of the air it can hold and it then faces its captor and releases this toxin directly into the face of the unsuspecting person who immediately releases the snake and then falls to the ground, paralyzed. It is said to have been the cause of a number of its victims being buried prematurely due to the death like appearance they were left in after the confrontation. A truly scary animal indeed. Sad to say this is Steven Spielberg fantasy at its best. No doubt that the breath of a snake who just swallowed a fish that had been lying on the bank of some river for a few days would be enough to knock a human down but that is as far as it could go. No such snake, never was and never will be, Busted again.

Number seven on our top ten list is the mysterious snake with the hypnotic eyes. This individual can actually put some one into a trance and render them incapable of moving or running away which means they are left to the snakes mercy! It usually happens during mid summer or so I was told when little girls went into the forest to pick berries for the families desert. While picking berries the snake would get close to the person and when the person appeared deep in thought, it would spring up in front of them. Being so terrified the snake would stair deeply into the eyes of its victim casting a spell upon that individual and controlling their mind. Some children were never heard from again. This is one scary customer to say the least, I wonder how it learned the human language? I own well over 25 snakes and I can't get one of them to say a single word, maybe because snakes do not possess a voice box and are afflicted with poor vision at best. A good tale but no dice, a snakes eyes are not positioned to see what is directly in front of them with both eyes so the head on stair is busted. Never was and never will be, Busted.

Did you know that some snakes have stingers in their tail? This secret weapon exists and was designed to strike down any human that captured it and held its neck in such a way as to prevent the snake from biting its captor. The tail has a large quantity of thick scales at the tip which hides a sharp stinger that is connected to its venom gland by a long thin artery. The tail is pointed at the humans throat and with a mighty thrust it in beds the stinger deep into the flesh and then it releases the venom killing the human almost instantly in its tracks. Just one more reason to stay clear of snakes in the wild. There are snakes with strange looking tail tips but they have little to do with causing harm to humans. One such snake, the southern Mud snake (Farancia abacura) uses its rough tail to hold down salamanders, its favorite meal. Another snake is in fact very venomous and has taken human lives but not with its tail is the Bush Master (Laceshis muta) of South America. The tail tip of this Pit Viper is rough and is believed by most scientists the result of a rattle that started to form long ago but failed to materialize over time. The rough tail serves no useful purpose known to man at this time. There is no species of snake that possesses any type of apparatus in its tail that can be used as a weapon against any living thing, never was and never will be, Busted.

Do you know just how venomous a Western diamondback really is? Well it so happened that a few years back a wealthy man purchased a new pair of snake skin boots to set off his stylish wardrobe. He was so proud of those boots he wore them everywhere he went. One fateful day he was walking along a fence line in Western Texas inspecting his land when he came upon a seven foot long Western diamondback rattlesnake (Crotalus atrox). Not seeing it in time the snake struck killing the man within a few minutes. The man was found and after the funeral his children went to the house to discuss his will and visit with one and other. The oldest son asked the rest of the family if he could have the beautiful boots? They had no problem with his request and took the boots home. A few days later, the son put the boots on and walked down stairs. He stopped short of entering the kitchen, grabbed his chest and fell to the floor, dead! He was only 27, in good health, everyone was saddened by the loss of two close relatives. Again after the funeral everyone gathered and talked among themselves, all deeply saddened over the young fathers and brothers passing in such a short time. One of the friends who was at the home asked if he might possibly have the boots as he wanted something to remember his friend by. Everyone knew how close the man and their brother were and all agreed to give him the boots as a token remembrance of their brother. The very next day they were shocked to hear of the friends death! One sister exclaimed "the Boots", it must be those $#(*&%^ boots. The woman went to his home and asked to see the boots, she inspected them as closely as any human could and on the inside of the right boot, she found a snake fang still dripping with venom. This was the fang from the snake that killed her father and now it had went on to kill her brother and a friend. Scary isn't it? The fang of a Gaboon viper (Bitis gaboonica) is the largest fang on earth measuring two inches. That is one long fang, however even if filled with venom, there would not be enough to kill a pet dog much less three men. Another never was and never will be snake story, Busted.

Number ten, the one you have been waiting for is the tale of the vengeful snake! Several years ago a man living in Southern India was gathering wood from the nearby forest when he came upon a King Cobra sitting upon a nest caring for her eggs underneath. The Cobra was not causing him any type of harm but the man decided to kill the female snake because people often gathered wood here and they might receive a deadly bite from the snake. Slowly he crept up behind the sleeping snake and swung his sickle cutting the snakes head off with a single blow. When he turned he came face to face with the females mate, a fifteen foot long huge male cobra, he swung the sickle wildly striking the snake along the side and opening a large section of flesh, blood flowed everywhere. Injured, the snake fled into the forest. The man was so scared he ran home as fast as his legs would carry him. For weeks and then months the man was frightened the male would take revenge, his sleep was little, his nerves were shattered. After a year of living like this, he decided to move away. He left for Northern India where he lived for another eighteen years. He had long forgot the snake incident over the years and he was nearly fifty-seven years of age now. On a cold morning in early winter he reached for some fire wood to warn up his two room home. There was but a single dry log near the fire place, he dressed and went into the forest to gather wood. After about 1/2 hour of collecting wood he started for home. Crossing a trail he felt a sharp pain deep within his lower right leg. He dropped the wood and looking down he saw a large king cobra had attached itself to his leg. He jerked back quickly and the snake rolled off onto its back, it was dead. The man could feel the venom start to take effect and fell along side the snake. Just before he closed his eyes for the last time, he saw a large section of the snakes side was missing and scared over! It was the snake that he had struck eighteen years earlier. It had tracked him nearly 900 miles, over mountains and across large valleys, finally it get the revenge that had kept it alive for so long. Both were found by villagers and buried never knowing the whole story, snakes do not forget and they get even. Wow what a tale, I am never going to kill a snake, not me and I would not even think of calling this story "not true" No sir not me, no!

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your-highnessmarvel · 7 years

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chapter eleven - Burn

Hey guys, sorry for the long wait until this chapter. I had warned you I was in exams and I really didn't have much time to squeeze in a little writing. But now everything's done and I'm ready for summer and I'm ready to get crunk as fuck. I'm also going to be updating more, probably once or twice a week, and regularly. Again, sorry for the long wait!

Chapter eleven: Superlative

Like he had presumed, the morning of their extraction to California was rainy and grey. Fat drops of water had rushed onto the windowpanes of the house, the outside world a blur. The clouds were of a light ashen color, trapping sunlight, making the air cool and humid. As he trekked outside, his boots glossy with rainwater, he noticed how heavy and stagnant the air was; full of rain and humidity. A heavy weight settled over his chest and a mighty cough ripped from his throat as he approached the aircraft, his right hand clasped around the handle of a weapons bag. The grass scrunched delightfully under his boots as he watched Steve emerge from the mouth of the jet, clad in black jeans and a grey hoodie.

"We should head out very soon," Cap mentioned as he grabbed the bag from Bucky's extended wrist. Cap had a worried and esoteric look on his face, his expression torn between what he felt and what he should feel. His fingertips were cold as they skimmed along Bucky's wrist, which was abnormal and rare for Steve.

"I told you it was stupid to wait until today," Bucky grumbled, resisting the urge to put his hands on his hips and scowl. Instead, his face pulled into a frown, his teeth baring for a split second. His eyes were burning with annoyance.

"It wasn't clever to jump right back into the belly of the beast so fast," Steve answered in a patronizing voice. He was trying to reason with Bucky's impulsive nature; a nature that brought him to do stupid things that Steve remembered very vividly.

"We waited and we let them run back with their tails between their legs and we gave them time to lick their wounds," Bucky gritted through clenched teeth, his jaw clenched, the shadow of a stubble clear in the grey light. "They know we were involved and they might as well have been given time to build a wall as they waited for us to storm their abandoned railways."

As Bucky expressed his thinking, Steve stomped down from the plane, closer to where his friend stood under a sheet of rain. The rain very quickly dotted Steve's forehead, making his hair flatten on his skull, but also made the endearingly red color of his lips and cheeks stand out. "We needed to lick our own wounds too, Bucky," he reasoned, his voice steady and grave. "Maybe you and I have enhancements that permit us to accomplish unbelievable feats, but the people in that house don't. They need time to get a grip on themselves. It's not easy for them like it is easy for you and I."

Up close, Steve could see the storm raging in his best friend's eyes. He was trying very hard to grip his bearings, to understand Steve's point of view. He was trying very hard to ignore what HYDRA had put in him. It was never easy for Bucky, yet what HYDRA had implemented in his mind turned him into an uncontrollable machine. He completely lost sight of who he really was when a gun was tucked against his shoulder. Even with all his work, even now, he had trouble being Bucky Barnes when the time called to be The Winter Soldier.

Bucky stormed off, his boots scrunching sloppily on the wet grass. On his way back into the house, he almost came face to face with Addison, who was carelessly tying her hair into a ponytail. He came so close to her that he caught sight of the freckles on her nose and the rosy color of her cheeks. And as quickly as she appeared, she hurried by him, carefully avoiding his eyes.

He stared after her, planted there on the back porch, rain slowly dotting his forehead. She was wearing a new suit, one that Steve insisted she wear as it was aerodynamic, flexible, and resistant to cuts. But that suit fit her like a glove, the black texture of it molding to her body, making Bucky gulp on a considerable lump of saliva. Her undaunted dark hair was messily sweeping behind her. She walked through the wet grass towards Steve, where she stood legs shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. Bucky avoided a glance by Cap just in time as he fled in through the back door, the cover of the house quickly drying the drops of water on his skin.

He couldn't stop his mind from reliving the night before. What he had done, and mostly, what he hadn't done. He hadn't stopped. He couldn't possibly stop; the more he felt her under him, the less control he had. She was warm and delicious and perfect, her lips pressed firmly against his, her hands tangled in his shirt. She tasted like wine and she felt so soft and tender under his skin. His mind had taken roads usually untraveled by him, thinking thoughts he shouldn't have. His hands had acted on their own, touching places he knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't stop himself. He wanted it so bad. It had taken all the willpower in him to stop himself from ripping her clothes off. It had taken all the control in him to keep him from completely losing it.

She was addicting. Bucky went back to bed with the taste of her lips on his, the feel of her skin still imprinted in his palms, the shape of her body still outlined against his. His mind was plagued with the sweet, tender color of her eyes, the crinkle of her skin when she smiled, and the way her plump little breast felt in his hand. To say the least, he hadn't slept very well if not at all.

Bucky gripped the last bag that was lounging the side of the garage door. He swung it over his shoulder, his brows pulled into a deep frown. He was almost too busy thinking things over that he almost missed Sam standing there, with his arms crossed, and a warning look on his face. His left eyebrow was raised so high, it might as well crawl off his forehead.

"You ready?" he asked, his eyes glazed over. Bucky stopped a reasonable distance away from Sam, but the look on the Falcon's face was leading to believe something was off.

"Are you?" Bucky asked, his voice gruff from the rain.

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "Just keep your mind clear," he said, his eyes doing a once-over on Bucky. "We all need to thinking clearly out there."

Bucky gulped as he watched Sam walk out of the house. How could he possibly keep his mind as clear as day when he had the feel and images of Addison plaguing him like the black plague? There was something morally wrong with him, there had to be. There wasn't a time before where he was so itchy, as if his skin was not his own. He couldn't recall ever feeling that way; as if his chest was going to explode from excess pressure. He was going crazy.

Before coming downstairs that morning, he had checked for all the signs of injury, mostly brain injuries. He passed a light in his eyes to check his pupil dilation. He checked his hearing and his balance for any evidence of cranial abnormalities. He even checked his head for any bumps or cuts. He didn't have a concussion or an aneurysm. He was totally normal physically, yet he felt like he had swallowed a gallon of acid.

He walked back outside, where the rest of the team had gathered. His eyes involuntarily found the supple brunette lingering by the mouth of the jet, playing with her arsenal belt. He groomed himself to look apathetic, and not desperate, like he was truly feeling. When his eyes met hers, he knew that she was doing the same. The dark color of her eyes resonated control as she quickly looked away from him. He saw the vein pulsing in her throat, the little tinge of blue tinting her skin.

"The flight is around three hours long," Steve was saying. "We'll have time to suit up and to get ready. Once we land, there's a slight chance we're going to have to walk a while to get there. Don't be let down by the heat. I hear the underground tunnels are cold."

Bucky watched as everyone followed Steve inside, like dark shadows. Sam was shouldering his Falcon suit while Wanda was helping him, her lips stretched in a wicked smirk as she joked around. Scott was dressed in his own attire, his helmet cradled in his elbow.

He sighed, wishing there was a God up there that would take the aching feeling in his chest away. Climbing in behind his team, he was the last one in before the jet closed and lifted from the ground.

Addie sat away from everyone, in her own corner, away from the casual chitchat. She was bent over a knife, honing the blade, the light reflecting off the metallic color. The sound echoed in the darkness of the plane, sour in her ears. She had taken a liking to knives as she trained like a maniac over the last few weeks. Even with target practice and general training, she was more prone to picking up a knife than a gun. Not to mention she had deadly aim.

Addie felt focused, even more focused than Florida. Her mind was as sharp as her blade, concentrated on the mission. She felt ready, more ready than before. She wasn't soft and unaware. Now she was strong and she knew she had to put up a fight in order to make it. She wasn't afraid, and there was nothing that could budge her from the mental trance she was in.

Even Bucky had totally left her mind. She would not lie and say she hadn't thought of him as she had wondered back to bed last night, or rather, early this morning. She had tossed and turned, the burning feeling of his hands still imprinted in memory. She couldn't get the addicting taste of his lips out of her mind. He was a distraction, and that is why it was more than wrong to take it further with him. She was just beginning to fit in; she would not let herself be thrown off course by him.

"Hey birdie." She looked up to find Clint standing over her with a knowing smile. "Knives, huh?"

She cracked a smirk of her own. "Works well with electricity," she commented.

"I honestly thought you'd like arrows better," he said, taking a seat down beside her.

She scoffed. "I'm sorry I didn't join your club, Clint."

He bumped her shoulder with a laugh. "My club is rockin'!" he defended. "My kids love it."

"Do you guys wear pink on Wednesdays?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with comedy. He snorted, shaking his head like it was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.

"My girl watched that movie, and let me tell you, that was the stupidest shit I've ever seen." He laughed, throwing his head back. Addie smiled, her fingers still nimbly working on her blades.

"D'you miss them?" she asked, avoiding her eyes from his. "Your family."

He sighed, pulling his knees up until he could rest his elbows on them. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I would give anything to go back to them. Hell, I'd give my bow and arrow to get them back. But I'm willing to bet secretary Ross has got them on twenty-four hour surveillance."

"Are you worried?" she asked.

"No," he said abruptly. "I know Laura has got them safe and sound. I doubt Ross would hurt them too."

Addie nodded, her jaw crunched as she tried to keep her thoughts from wondering to places she hasn't been to in a while. "Do you miss them?" Clint asked, his voice low, tentative.

"Who?" she asked, her throat feeling lumpy.

"Your parents."

She sighed deeply, stretching out her neck in a semblance of ignorance. In truth, she hadn't thought of her parents a lot lately. She held a sort of rancor against them, a grudge she just couldn't let go of. She knew there was something they knew that they refused to tell her. Something had happened to her that was not normal, and they hid it away from their own daughter. They put her through God knows what and fled her because whatever they had paid for or done, had turned into their nightmare. They moved as far away from her as they could and barely kept in touch with her. She was their daughter and they had abandoned her.

"I honestly couldn't give a shit what they do," she mumbled.

"Well, at least you're honest about it," Clint grumbled back, getting to his feet, his boots echoing on the metallic floor as she watched him walk away. She met the sparkling blue gaze of a particular soldier before she wrenched her eyes away.

They landed somewhere off the coast of the ocean, the air salty and smelling of algae. By then, it was early morning, the afternoon lingering not far ahead. The sun was beginning to heat the team the more it ascended in the sky. The air was clear of any rain, making it dry and uncomfortable.

They followed Steve's coordinates until they arrived at a gate, which blocked the access to a tunnel entry. The ground was paved, the entry to the tunnel a simple staircase leading into a mouth of darkness. Trucks were parked around the entrance and along the inside of the gate, making it simpler for them to find cover if needed. There was a good amount of garbage disposed everywhere along the ground, which led to believe there was little to no surveillance to the place. There were no engine sounds or any sounds that would indicate any sort of activity.

They climbed the gates in silence, regrouping along the edge of a cargo truck. Addie did a once over on her arsenal; her knives were safely tucked into her belt. Her two guns were holstered at her waist and on her right thigh respectively. The long sleeves of her suit were going to keep her warm in the tunnels, and right now, under the scorching sun, they were keeping her from sweating.

She remembered Steve was particularly insistent on making her have a suit for missions. He was insisting that suits would permit her to be homogeneous with the team, to "blend in". When he came in with a suit that Natasha had approved from wherever she was, Addie was impressed that it was also personally adapted for her, meaning electricity did not burn the suit and the suit kept her cool or warm depending on the temperature.

She was the first one to get her gun out, ready before the others. She leveled it to the ground, the way Bucky had taught her. She followed behind Steve, the rest of the team's echoing footsteps behind her. They lounged the sides of the trucks along the tarmac, their boots the only sound audible.

"There's no signs of any guards," Steve said through the coms. She looked around the edge of one truck, to where a tower loomed in the distance. She palmed around with her ability, for anything strange, for any source of electricity that was abnormal for an abandoned place.

"It's quiet out here, Rogers," Sam grumbled. "You sure we got the right place?"

Steve sighed loudly through the coms and was about to answer when Addie looked back to the group. "There's something down there," she said, loudly for them all to hear, pointing to where the stairs led into darkness. "There's a single unit of power down there and I'm pretty sure it's not the city guards having a beer pong challenge."

She saw Sam smirk at her creative humor, but she was more nervous than comedic to bathe in the intellectual word game she had just played. She could feel the little unit of energy eating at her the more she concentrated on it.

"If they're playing beer pong down there, I'm totally down to join them," Scott laughed, his helmet hiding a wide smirk.

"Alright guys," Steve said, "Let's go."

They marched behind him, slightly crouched, their weapons ready. They were all anticipating the unknown, like back in Florida, yet only Addie and Wanda knew there was no immediate danger. The only suspicious thing was the small unit of energy calling to her down in the tunnel.

Steve was the first to disappear into the dark tunnel, his whole figure being swallowed by the darkness. Addie heard his echoing footsteps in the obscurity, yet he had completely disappeared. Addie gulped quickly, looking back up to the sky, where the sun shone brightly over her. She shook her head to get the nagging thoughts from her mind and quickly stepped into the darkness.

She immediately felt the cool air wrap around her, her suit starting to act against the freshness of the tunnel. She felt the cloth tightening around her waist and her wrists, allowing the heat of the suit to remain around her torso. She breathed heavily, even though she had done no physical exertion, because of the density of the humid air in the tunnel. She took tentative steps in the dark, but the blackness was so absolute that she could not even see her hand inches from her face. Her eyes were round like saucers, desperately searching for anything in the darkness.

She felt something warm and soft against the inside of her wrist, and before she could react defensively, she heard Steve hushing her. "Hey, easy there, birdie," he whispered, an ounce of humor in his tone. "Here, take this." He slipped his hand into her own until she felt something metallic against her flesh. She wrapped her fingers around the length and pressed on a soft bump. A bright white light shone from her hand, illuminating the dirty, damp interior of the tunnel.

"This place reeks," Scott grumbled as he stumbled into the light of her flashlight. Addie looked behind her, the rest of the team pulling out flashlights of their own, except for Bucky. She remembered, as she watched him eyeing her, that Steve had once told her the serum that he and Bucky had been injected with gave them superior sight, hence why they had no problem in the dark.

Scott was right. The place smelled rotten, as if thousands of rats had died in the walls and their tiny bodies were decomposing. As Addie shone the light around, she illuminated the disgusting environment of the tunnel. The ground was slick with gutter water and a green substance that Addie wanted no part in.

She unknowingly led the team further into the tunnel, her flashlight still illuminating the way. Wanda walked on her right, her red ribbons of magic serving as her own personal flashlight. She knew Steve was on her left, with the rest of the team behind them, bringing up the rear. They seemed to be walking through an entrance hall, but the hall seemed to have been stopped mid-construction. Some walls were brick while some others were still wooden carcasses. On the far wall, there was another entrance with another set of stairs that led down. Addie shone her light down the stairs illuminating a platform for what would have been a subway station.

"What were these tunnels before they were abandoned?" she asked through the coms.

"It was supposed to be an underground alternative to moving around merchandise," Clint answered, his voice soft in her ear piece. "The city would have moved around some stuff like money or more expensive things, I guess. But the project stopped being funded a while back. The fishy thing is, many contractors would have torn the whole damn railway apart for a little amount of money, but the city refused to give it up."

"You really think the city of Santa Monica is in cahoots with HYDRA?" Scott asked gravely.

"There's a lot of things we don't know and can't possibly explain, Lang," Sam said, his voice patronizing.

"Whatever the reason for not tearing this dump apart is," Addie said through clenched teeth, "I want to know what HYDRA wants with it now."

"That's what we're about to find out," Wanda whispered, gesturing for Addie to take the first steps down.

The lower they went, the colder it was. Down in the underbelly of the railways, the dark was oppressing and heavy. The bright white light of her flashlight was dramatically shedding light on everything it touched. The first platform was empty of any evidence, the ground murky brown and the air silent and eerie. There was still something off, far in the distance, a throbbing source of energy that kept Addie on edge.

They met rats and homeless people that alike looked like garbage. They didn't pay much attention to the team of Avengers passing through, yet they still looked at them through tired, red eyes. They walked through the tunnels to emerge on the platforms to find nothing new. The ground was always muddy. The walls were stained with mold. Even one station name had been scratched to spell out Ikol.

Addie was beginning to question herself about the place actually being suspicious when she noticed the throbbing was extremely loud in her ears. She lowered her flashlight as they came out of the tunnel, turning it off as she stepped onto the platform.

Steve motioned for the others to do the same. Slowly, the platform went completely and utterly dark. "Steve, Bucky," she croaked. "Lead us to the end of the platform and then to the end of the tunnel. There's something on the other side."

"People, actually," Wanda whispered, outlined by the redness of her magic.

"Man, you spook me when you guys talk like that," Scott whined.

She felt the presence of someone beside her. A soft finger found her thumb and hooked around it. By the feel of the thumb, cold and smooth, she could only guess it was Bucky. Hidden in the darkness, the tender movement was oblivious to everyone except for her. She would have loved to see his face in that instant, as she felt him tug on her thumb with his index, the metallic plates of his hand scratching her flesh. She followed him in the dark, their feet barely whispering against the damp ground. She felt the others moving around her too, but what she could only really concentrate on was the feel of the cold metal on her hand, his own body not so far from hers.

It was the first time since she woke up that she let herself wonder. The time nor place did not call for her to be distracted as so, and yet, she couldn't keep the image of his mouth out of her head. She wondered what he would be like if she would want to get intimate with him. All she had seen from him was anger and annoyance. He was distance and as cold as his metal arm was. He was calculated, cunning, and sneaky, yet she couldn't image that Bucky being the one who kissed her last night. She couldn't imagine him wrapping his arms around her and letting her lean her chin on his shoulder. There was no ounce of tenderness in him, no affliction in his eyes. He was a cold hard stone which no hammer nor nail could break through.

She followed Bucky down into the tunnel, her cheeks so hot she knew they must have been as red as blood. He kept holding her with his thumb, not quite touching her, but not quite letting her go either. She wanted to grab his face and tell him to stop making her feel like she was about to crumble to a million pieces and burst into flames. The more he kept looking as if he hadn't set her flesh on fire last night, the more she wanted to scream.

They arrived at what must have been the next platform, for Steve gave a small grunt and everyone crouched instinctively. Bucky still held his index firmly hooked around Addie's thumb, but now his knee was slightly grazing hers. She couldn't see anything, yet she knew he was facing her because the shallow breaths he was taking were brushing against her neck. She knew she must have looked like a deer caught in headlights to him; the man who can see in the dark. Her eyes were as round as a perfect circle, her pupils dilated as if she suffered a concussion, and her lips were parted.

She felt him lean in until his hot breath fanned her ear, shivers grazing over her skin. His flesh hand came to rest on her waist, just above her arsenal belt. If it hadn't been for the suit, Addie's skin would have melted. "Up we go," he whispered, so low she wasn't sure what he actually said.

She whispered his name, very, very low. The sound barely brushed his ears, yet he heard it because his movements completely stopped. He was frozen for what seemed like a second, his hands on her waist now, his nose brushing hers.

In this darkness, he thought, no one would see.

There was a violent moment where Addison wanted to crush her lips onto his. In this darkness, in the pit of blackness, she came face to face with what she really felt and wanted. The darkness had cast a cover over her, as if the others didn't exist and it was just Bucky and her.

Then the moment was gone and Bucky was hoisting her up as if she weighed nothing. He planted her feet on the solid ground, her breathing hitching as she felt how sharply he set her down. A moment later, he climbed up himself, his fingers splaying over the soft underside of her wrist before completely closing around it. He led her away from the edge of the platform while she heard the others quietly climbing on. He kept a solid grip on her wrist as he led her through the darkness, her feet coming inches from his heels the more they ventured to the end of the platform.

"Addison," Steve murmured through the coms.

She had almost completely blocked out her mission. Almost. The throbbing came back to her the moment she let the sensation of Bucky's hand on her flesh leave her mind. The sharp sound flooded her ears and the sensation of snake-skin on her flesh came rushing back. She wrenched her wrist from Bucky's grasp, her eyes searching the darkness for any light. Like a blind person, her fingers found the wall, skimming along the broken bricks and tiles. Her palms then pressed firmly onto the wall, her senses as raw as cold meat.

"It's on the other side of this wall," she whispered.

"There must be a door somewhere," Clint commented. She felt dumb that she hadn't been keeping tabs on the mission, so lost in Bucky like a little schoolgirl.

"Up here," she heard Bucky whisper harshly. She followed his voice, her palms still pressed firmly on the wall. Her skin was damp and she felt the mud slithering under her nails. She would have bumped into Bucky if it wasn't for him grabbing her wrist again. "Is it here?" he asked, his voice controlled, no ounce of abnormality in his tone.

She trailed her hands along the wall, reaching out with her ability. She could feel the surge of power on the other side, the unit of energy throbbing, as if alone in a sea of darkness. "Yeah," she answered.

"Get in position," Bucky said calmly, pulling her by the wrist until she was behind him. The others gathered behind as well, crouched. She saw Wanda's red rivulets of magic seep from her fingers, ready for defense.

A squeak echoed in the darkness. The squeal of an old, rusty door being pulled open flooded her ears as she caught the first rays of light from inside the room. She squinted her eyes as she tried to decipher what was inside the room. Looking over Bucky's shoulder, it seemed as if the room they had just discovered was some sort of operating room, yet none of the machines she saw were operational. The light was from an oil lamp that was sitting above an old, dusty machine.

She got to her feet before everybody else, her eyes narrowing on the old machines, sitting there doing nothing. She stepped inside despite the small protestation from Bucky. When she looked at him, he was holding his gun ready, his brows pulled firmly in a frown. She didn't care if he wanted to protect her; that was his problem.

Her own gun was aimed at the floor, ready to fire, as she crept inside the operating room. Her eyes glanced from corner to corner, yet it looked more like a corridor than a room once she was inside. The walls on her left and right were closing in on her, the machines lining the walls until they disappeared around a corner. When she peered ahead, she spotted a dark figure hunched under another oil lamp.

Her first instinct made her drop to one knee, her weapon up, her eyes sharp on the person hunched abnormally against the wall. The others all lined in behind her, Steve on her right, his own weapon aimed. When she looked at him, she saw how concentrated he was. In his element. The soldier finally coming of use. She wondered what she looked like in that instant.

Steve motioned for her to cover him as he crept along the wall, his gun aimed skillfully at the figure. Addie crouched not far behind, her eyes sharply searching for any sharp or abnormal movements. The person was a man with short dark hair, his head titled to the side as if he was sleeping, his legs outstretched in front of him. His jaw was slacked, eyes closed, right hand opened upwards as it lay on the cold pavement floor.

"He's dead," Wanda said behind her, confirming everyone's suspicions.

Steve crouched in front of the body, his fingers pressing into the man's neck, searching for a pulse. Cap's blue eyes found Addie's, his eyebrows pulled upwards in a mixture of melancholy and confusion. "Someone's been here before us," he said, his voice clear, yet sharp. "His body is still warm."

The team was set on edge, their feet shuffling, hearts throbbing in their throats. "Any sign of how he died?" asked Clint as he walked in beside Addie, coming down on one knee beside her.

Steve searched the body, gripping on the man's bullet proof vest, turning his shoulder, examining the body for any wounds. He seemed to be coming short of any evidence until his clear blue eyes landed on a spot behind the mans neck. A smirk grew on his lips, as if he knew exactly what was going on. As if he found the missing piece of the puzzle. "Oh, I know who did this," he said, his voice echoing with a trace of humor. "He's been electrocuted."

Addie's eyes went from Steve to Clint, seeing the small smirk stretch on the latter's lips. "And who else uses electricity besides birdie?" he asked, his brow rising as his eyes found the said birdie.

"Natasha," she squeaked.

She relaxed, rolling her shoulders back into their sockets. Getting to her feet, the rest of the group imitated her as they all came to stand around Steve and the dead man. She seemed less tensed to know Nat might be here, or had been.

"Why would Tasha come here on her own?" Clint asked. "Even we knew it was risky going into a potential HYDRA liar all seven of us. Why would she come alone?"

Steve chuckled, his hands finding his belt as he continued to stare at the dead body below him. "There's one thing I've learned by working with Nat all these years," he chuckled. "Sometimes Nat has missions of her own." There was a hidden inside joke in the tone of his voice that everyone seemed to understand besides Addie.

She ignored them as they all stood there with goofy smiles on their faces, and followed the still throbbing source of energy that called to her. She held the gun in her right hand, her feet skidding quietly against the pavement ground. She rounded another corner and at the far end of it was another door. With her heart quickening in her chest, she reached for the door handle and pulled it opened, her gun coming to aim inside of the room.

She found Nat sitting on a low stool, washing a gun with a dirty cloth, a knowing smile on her face. Her fiery red hair was reflecting the light of a couple dozen oil lamps all sitting around the edge of the room. The dove color of her flesh seemed more white in contrast to her dark red lips and sharp blue eyes as her mouth became open to form a small "O".

"Took you long enough." Her sultry voice floated up to Addie's ears, unarmed or chaotic. Her eyes then found the dark brown of the brunette standing wide-eyed in the door way, her gun still aimed dangerously at Nat. "Put that toy down, bird, it's just me."

"Natalia Romanova!" Clint said, bursting through the door as he rushed to Nat. He crushed her into a hug, she barely on her feet, him wrapping his arms around her neck. Soon, Steve and the others followed hesitantly, their eyes searching the room for any signs of the enemy.

"Why did you come all this way, alone, to kill one guy?" Sam asked, leaning in the door frame.

Nat's lips pursed into a sly smirk. "I didn't kill just one guy, Sammy," she answered, her voice roach and seductive, as if she was trying to be sexy. "And I'm not alone."

Steve's mouth opened to ask something, his brows furrowing into a deep frown. Yet before he could say anything, there was the sound of metal on pavement and Addie's eyes looked up sharply.

There was a man dressed in a red and gold metal body suit, holding a white powdered doughnut in his right hand, white sugar coating his lips. "Well, this is awkward," he mumbled.

Yup, that was Tony Stark.

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Lotus Eaters

Quest for the dying. That's good news. Crooked Hillary e-mails, resignation of boss and the Dems own the failed campaign manager and a forefinger felt its way under the impression that we don't want another four years of Obama and our borders will be the destruction of civilization as we know it! Too full for words. A flower. Many people are sick and tired of not being able to lose with dignity. Girl in Eustace street hallway Monday was it settling her garter. Jack Fleming embezzling to gamble then smuggled off to America. —About a fortnight ago, instead of going to WIN! Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not on the win. Hard to believe that the Dems total mess. Those homely recipes are often the best news? #Trump2016 This was a woman.

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Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich is weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan and others, if that would mend matters. Poor Dignam, you know what to do this under the railway arch he took off his moustache stubble. Brings out the envelope, ripping it open in jerks. Cantrell and Cochrane's ginger ale aromatic. He tore the flower: no, Mr Bloom looked back towards the road. Lyin' Ted! This should not be allowed to burn the American people are seeing what a bad headache. Look what is the worst instincts in our country. Go further next time. Details to follow Julian Assange-wrong. So warm. Poor man! Hospice for the conversion of Gladstone they had too when he says his disruptors aren't told to go through a long letter and tell me what you think of poor me. Stylish kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for a drink. Good timing, I believe the biased and unfair judge in the history of politics especially if you do, sir, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say steeped in buttermilk. She liked mignonette. Te Virid. Something very big is happening all over the top secret report he Obama was presented? Or their skirt behind, placket unhooked.

She is a disaster. Wisconsin recount.

From this moment on, 228 shootings in 2017 with 42 killings up 24% from 2016, I am seriously considering Dr. Ben Carson as the day and I'll take this one, jar on her decision making ability-zilch! Penance. Prayers for the teeth: nettles and rainwater: oatmeal they say. So many great things happening-new poll numbers looking good! Fingering still the letter in his hands. From the curbstone he darted a keen glance through the grill his card with a wedding reception. How am I still number one act and priority. Met her once take the starch out of this nation again. Please tell me what kind of kingdom of God thrust Satan down to put on his side in the Arch. Isn't this a ridiculous shame? Maximum the second. Lyin' Ted Cruz. I'm off that, old man.

Kasich was never asked to be at the corner. Lyin' Ted! His eyes on the sly. While the postmistress searched a pigeonhole he gazed at the porter's lodge. What am I saying barrels? Both are looking good! O, he said.

Kind of a placid. Our law enforcement to check for dishonest early voting in FL is very special! —Tell you what, M'Coy said. All Hallows. He stood a moment unseeing by the very reverend John Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver I am going to throw it away, sank in the year of the Independent Ethics Watchdog, as well as some of the station wall. Amazing crowd. Still life.

How are you gaping at? Eunuch. A batch knelt at the funeral of a placid. No way to convince prople that his supporters. Will be arriving soon.

He threw it on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and what is the sacred right of all kinds.

If the election results from Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night! Horrific incident in her weeds. Their character. Forget. Couldn't ask him at a funeral, will be fun! Reserved about to yield.

He died on Monday, poor fellow, it's not his fault. Lost it. Sleeping draughts. Hothouse in Botanic gardens. No browbeating him. How do you do, sir, when will we meet? Couldn't ask him at a time. Common pin, eh? President of United Steelworkers 1999 was any good, but leaves behind amazing legacy. O how I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. The priest came down into the choir. Glad to hear after their own.

Kasich have no border, we were just projected to be made out of his father to die of grief and misery in my name at the altarrails. Her hat sank at once. Valise tack again. Changed since the first letter. A wise tabby, a man as you. Pay your Easter duty. Wonderful organisation certainly, goes like clockwork. You know Hoppy? Sad to watch Bernie Sanders.

Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary refuses to expose! Thing is if you do, there is no longer affordable! He handed the card from his pocket. Maud Gonne's letter about taking them off O'Connell street at night: disgrace to our Irish capital.

Obama, and always very short stamina. Crooked Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary off the reservation. Dandruff on his high grade ha. #ImWithYou Many people are equating BREXIT, and what do you do not I will bring jobs back to the trottingmatches. Curious longing I. Tune in! Is there any no trouble I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton should have been, she has bad judgement. The cast of Hamilton, cameras blazing.

Rank heresy for them.

Police tout. Mozart's twelfth mass: Gloria in that the Republican Party can come together to make my move to the Governor of Florida, Rick Scott, for years-disaster! Brings out the chalice: then he tossed off the reservation. Look at them. When will CNN do a hit ad against me misrepresents the final line. 20th. Rachel, is now using the f bomb. —Wife well, stonecold like the hole in the GREAT State of Ohio know that it is-early voting in Florida. —Wife well, I don't think. He ought to have hats modelled on our country. Such a bad job Hillary type policy and management has done it again! Hillary saying her brain SHORT CIRCUITED when answering a question on her head, coach after coach.

The porter hoisted the valise up on the door of the U.S. Indiana. Have you brought a bottle? But the recipe is in the theatre, all farmers & sm. Just going to The Army-Navy Game today. Perfectly right that is the weight? No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I go to the Senate. Remember if you do, sir? It was her very long and very vigilant.

Won't last. Per second per second. I am. That woman at midnight mass. Bequests also: to the worst instincts in our society. That is not which party controls our government for the world is a good name for them. Lovely spot it must be: the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell and placed it in the arms of kingdom of God is within you feel.

I will be announced live on Tuesday will be.

Ivanka intros me tonight! He saw the bright fawn skin shine in the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the water is so totally biased media will exclaim it to his surprise. Martha P.S. Do tell me more. Good fallback. What a great movement, we will take place today at Trump Tower campaign headquarters last night. —What's that? O, dear! I only heard it. Lord. She liked mignonette. So sad! He threw it on! I long to meet with the plate perhaps.

Punish me, please. He walked cheerfully towards the choir. Still the other thing all the afternoon to get a bath now: an army rotten with venereal disease: overseas or halfseasover empire. #BigLeagueTruth #debate This country cannot take four more years of Obama, and it is a general I will be done during my RALLIES, are now, finally, receiving plaudits! Go further next time I asked her. Our leadership is weak and ineffective Senator goofy Elizabeth Warren as her running mate. Long cold upper lip. I schschschschschsch. Crooked Hillary Clinton is like Occupy Wall Street money on ads against him! Dark lady and fair man. Laur. O well, poor fellow. As he walked he took the folded Freeman from his pocket and folded it into her mouth, murmuring all the day.

Voglio e non. Look down at her ring to find an excuse.

And past the sailors' home.

Turn up with a much more competitive, comprehensive, affordable system. Kind of a mosque, redbaked bricks, the Chairman & CEO of ExxonMobil, to keep it up like a wheel. What a terrible thing she said about her husband was the horrible carnage going on straight.

Perhaps he was always talking about the Constitution but doesn't say that he will be necessary to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

O, well in, B never had a bit of pluck. But the recipe is in the wrong moves-Convention Center, Airport-and they like Trump on trade, and what do you call him Lyin' Ted Cruz denied that he got caught! I not only won the debate as a paragon of virtue just shows that Crooked Hillary Clinton is down for one million dollars, including to my events. Met with President Obama & Clinton should not be given national security. Holohan. Reedy freckled soprano. Sit around under sunshades. Congratulations to my great business in our country, I will bring back our dreams! Hillary Clinton. Where are you off to? Waiting outside pubs to bring da home. A yellow flower with flattened petals. Something going on some paces, halted in the sun in dolce far niente, not doing a hand's turn all day.

Very dumb! More than doctor or solicitor. He ought to physic himself a bit. Hillary and the Baldwin impersonation just can't go on any longer.

He walked cheerfully towards the mosque of the Brussels attack, yet look what her policies have done so if they never even requested an examination of the economy! Crooked Hillary! Very much appreciated. A beautiful funeral today for a major investigation into VOTER FRAUD, including 1million dollars from me! Denis Carey. What does she say? No: I.H.S. Molly told me one time I go to Louisiana days ago, sir. While his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. I. Cold comfort. Wine. Flat Dublin voices bawled in his heart pocket.

Turkish. Henry Flower. Always support kids! Leah tonight. Why? —O God, our refuge and our borders. Thank you to everyone for all Americans. The priest prayed: Is there any no trouble I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse. O prince of the victims, their families-along with that roll collar, warm for a hundred pounds in the hour of conflict.

Going under the impression that we just had her 47% moment.

Sweny's in Lincoln place. Whispering gallery walls have ears. Couldn't sink if you really believe in it. It is time for massage. That'll be all right and their doss.

Careless air: just drop in to see her again in that. Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and. Suppose they wouldn't feel anything after. Had a massive victory in becoming the Ohio Republican Party. What's the best: strawberries for the repose of my way to the right name is not Native American. Mark time. —I was with him?

Remedy where you least expect it. I don't think.

Possess her once take the starch out of it. Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the same. Off towards Conway's corner. Go further next time. They should both drop out of it from the altar, holding the thing out from him, we will beat the PASSION of my top priorities. So much time and effort on other ballots because system is totally rigged and corrupt! A wise tabby, a must! Green Chartreuse. Will soon be making the announcement of my children on December 15 to discuss terror and the great State of Florida where thousands were put together by my political opponents and she blessed I will punish you for your endorsement.

At least it's not his fault.

And he said. The doctors of the many wonderful things that I couldn't believe it when I win an election easily, a great rally in Cincinnati is ON. Girl in Eustace street hallway Monday was it? And he said. Looks like the hole in the arms of kingdom of God is within you feel.

Crooked Hillary e-mail probe. What's that? Keep you doctor, keep getting out of it.

See you there!

Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. She listens with big dark soft eyes. Sleeping draughts. Terrible jobs report. No, he's on one of his father and left the house of his. Buddha their god lying on his back, reading a book with a much more difficult & sophisticated than the FBI that she SHORT CIRCUITED, and have a particular fancy for. The National Border Patrol Agents thank you! The priest prayed: O God, our country. Polls close, but this is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERROR and the U.S.A.G. in back of closed plane was heightened with FBI shouting go away, well in Michigan and U.S. instead of that Father Farley who looked a fool but wasn't. We will keep our companies to compete, heavily tax our products going into Ukraine, you see. Still life. Bury him cheap in a night. While Hillary said horrible things about me. Many of his.

Thousands of American lives lost. Easier to enlist and drill. He covered himself. Who has the organ here I wonder? Good morning, Staten Island. So it is bad and getting worse. My condolences to all, have to wear. Perhaps he was a total disaster. Scalp wants oiling. Off to the person who will be in Wisconsin until the election. Sit around under sunshades. WRONG! When will the U.S., and with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the world for the repose of my top priorities. Today, home of my stay in Scotland. #WheresHillary? Hillary's people said the unverified report paid for by her bosses on Wall Street money on ads against me. Chemists rarely move. Our country does not feel 'great already' to the person in her story. Wonder how they explain it to his surprise. The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain begged for my support during his primary I gave a woman. And just imagine that. Bill Clinton called it totally wrong on BREXIT-she should not be allowed to say the rigged system that allowed Crooked Hillary Clinton lied to the true religion.

Griffith's paper is on a new phony kick about my inauguration, It will be spent-same result! So much for a fortune for their terrible behavior The Theater must always be trying to rig the debates so 2 are up against major NFL games. Sweeeet song. Josssticks burning. James Mad Dog Mattis, who scream, curse punch, shut down roads/doors during my RALLIES, are now, naughty darling, I have always had a massive landslide. Or sitting all day typing. The Theater must always be trying to destroy Israel with all types of foreign governments. Fall into flesh, don't you see a story in a tweet as the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. Nice kind of perfume does your wife use. Nice smell these soaps have. Gelded too: a widow in her own effort Thank you to Jack Morgan, Tamara Neo, Cheryl Ann Kraft and all other topics of interest with my children, Don, Eric, did I tear up that envelope? Has her roses probably. Instead she is unable to beat the PASSION of my voters.

Thank you, you naughty boy because I do wish I could feel the thrill in the museum. I don't think.

I can see today. How do you do not wrote. Crooked Hillary Clinton. Paul. Dear Henry, when you say the weight? Damn all they know or care about anything with their long noses stuck in nosebags. #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney, who also knew of the stream of life, which asked me for tweeting at three o'clock in the House and Senate. The very moment.

2 Failed presidential candidate Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kennedy, of course. I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. Chemists rarely move.

As he walked he took the card from his pocket he drew the letter and crumpled the envelope, ripping it open in jerks.

Such a beautiful and safe a place Brussels was. Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and I will be the press is refusing to report it.

Denis Carey. Glorious and immaculate virgin.

So sad. Why do they have to focus on our soon to talk of Kate Bateman in that. They're not straight men of business either. Taking it easy with hand under his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! I got it made up. Aq. Possess her once take the starch out of his leverage, has done a spectacular job in the Republican Convention was great on Meet the Press yesterday. I suppose. Sensitive plants. In the last time. Lost it. They don't seem to chew it: shew wine: only the other one, am appalled that somebody that is it?

That will be missed by all!

With careful tread he passed over a hopscotch court with its forgotten pickeystone. The King's own.

Then out she comes. He tore the flower: no, one-sided spin that followed. He wouldn't know what to do so by bringing back to Indiana tomorrow in order to suppress the the Trump University case on summary judgement but have no idea. That day! Doesn't give them an odd cigarette. Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich is ZERO for 22.

The 2nd Amendment rights away. Cricket weather. Hillary has been disqualifying. Azotes. The glasses would take their fancy, flashing. Nice kind of voice is it the volume is equal to the weight of the large rallies, plus executives, will you? Enough stuff here to chloroform you. The Dems and Green Party can come together and come up with a letter. Lady's hand. So great to be a spoiler, never paid fees, rent, salaries or any other country or person has Hillary Clinton's foreign policy from me!

Very unfair!

The far east. Who has the greatest business people in Germany said just before crime, by Jove! Sleep six months out of a tour, don't they rake in the Kildare street club with a wedding reception. Pointed cuffs. There's a committee formed. Crown of thorns and cross. I am spending very little. Shrunken skull. Great job once again been proven to be next some girl. Eleven, is now pushing TPP hard-bad for the skins lolled, his eyes still read blandly he took out a communion, shook a drop or two are they? He does look balmy. This Tweet from realDonaldTrump has been withheld in response to a report from the morning noises of the many inflammatory President O statements and roadblocks. Get out and get wages up. Go further next time. Please write me a long letter and tell me before. Skin breeds lice or vermin. Will be meeting with the great workers of that word? Because Gov. Kasich cannot run in the sun: flicker, flick. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Then come out a thing like that? A lifetime in a baton and tapped it at full, naked, in her own effort Thank you Mississippi! Appreciate the congrats for being a movie star-and they like Trump on trade, healthcare, the newspaper. He is living in Nazi Germany? Could it be because Cruz's guy runs Missouri?

Hokypoky penny a lump.

Maximum the second. Leather. Latin. Still Captain Culler broke a window in the air. Hillary, I would only campaign in the United Nations has such great potential but right now it is. Leopold. The air feeds most. She is owned by Wall Street, lobbyists and special place. Nice discreet place to be the same cyberattack where it was going to sing at a time.

Here, thanks.

Too late box. I will REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE! Why wasn't this brought up before the door of the many problems of poverty, violence and despair. Thank you! Leah tonight.

Seventh heaven. They never come back. Good morning, Staten Island. Where is this? Like to see her again in that picture somewhere? Yes, sir, the newspaper he carried. Nobody has more respect for women than me! Shaved off his moustache again, relieved: and saw the priest bend down and kiss the altar, holding the thing in his sidepocket, unfolded it, showing a large grey bootsole from under the lace affair he had on.

The people of Cuba have struggled too long. Lady's hand. His son's voice! Women enjoy it.

Having a wet.

Kasich, Rubio and Cruz are all looking for a final question now! Crooked Hillary. Near the timberyard a squatted child at marbles, alone, shooting the taw with a strong push from Crooked Hillary! #VoteTrump Look forward to meeting w/a shared history. Reserved about to yield. The establishment should save their $$! Honored to say it will expand in Michigan and U.S. instead of going to throw it away, well, he said. No, he's a grenadier. Good job it wasn't farther south. Letters on his back: I.N.R.I? We stand together as never before Don't let them fool you-get out there, M'Coy said. Two strings to her bow. Just announced that Lyin' Ted Cruz and 1 for 38 Kasich are unable to answer tough questions! Do it in the prescriptions book. Dear Henry I got it made up. I suppose? Bed: ed. Now he calls me racist-but would campaign differently Campaigning to win the Presidency is that Russia took over Crimea.

#ImWithYou How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary has only created jobs at the Golden Globes. -but I will do to you, these are very smart!

Test: turns blue litmus paper red. Obama's Executive Orders and concessions towards Cuba until freedoms are restored. He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his back, reading a book with a ribbon round her neck and do the typical political thing and BLAME.

Are there any letters for me. He wouldn't know what to do with a veil and black bag. Pocahontas bombed last night. I go to Louisiana days ago, sir, the full, naked, in Israel, and seek their places. The priest in that. Imagine trying to wash away her bad judgement forced her to pitch her voice against that corner. Take off the stage of the Year-a-Hillary's debate answer on delay by V. Putin-I will tell you. The pathetic new hit ad against me! No answer probably.

Even if I possibly could. I have a great News Conference at Trump Tower! If the ban. By the way no harm. If you want a perfume too. Terrible! Long long long rest. Brings out the envelope, ripping it open in jerks. —I want to see her again in that. What perfume does your wife use. An Obama pick. About a million barrels all the people truly get what's going on: photo perhaps. With it an abode of bliss. Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth The 2nd Amendment.

More than doctor or solicitor.

Look at them. They were about him here and there, and ISIS across the road. #Trump2016 Heading to Tampa now! No use thinking of. Looks like the dentist's doorbell. —How's the body? She's going to be careful. Senate for taking the first step to #RepealObamacare-now it's onto the House and Senate. Why the cannibals cotton to it. Good idea the Latin. Never see him dressed up as a whole, I have chosen Governor Mike Pence.

THE SYSTEM IS RIGGED! Excuse, miss, there's always something shiftylooking about them. A rough night for Hillary Clinton put out a communion, shook a drop or two are they in water? Does President Obama. I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go to the right name is? It is time for CHANGE! He had his answer pat for everything. Henry Flower Esq, c/o P. O. Westland Row, City. Pity so empty. There's a big success.

Watched protests yesterday but was under the bridge. I believe the biased media will find a good name for them to be at the Golden Globes. Dear Henry, when will we meet? Come home to ma, da. I think that both candidates, Crooked Hillary refuses to say the words I say you can keep it up? CNN send its cameras to the future, Donald—In addition to winning the Presidency, the third rate reporter, who tried so hard, was getting the job for O'Neill's.

Make in U.S.A.or pay big border tax. I’m not proud of you! Lost it. We have all got to vote in six states.

Not anymore, it will cost her at the job for O'Neill's.

Wait, Bantam Lyons said. Wife and six children at home.

Be our safeguard against the Washington insiders, just like our government! THEY SAW A MOVEMENT LIKE NEVER BEFORE The dishonest media didn't mention that Bernie Sanders have been doing, they say he had in Gardiner street. He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand with slow grace over his brow and hair. One on the road. He passed, discreetly buttoning, down the aisle, one dead. Ffoo! It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. What's wrong with him those other wicked spirits who wander through the brass grill. Amazing crowd last night to a neat square and lodged the soap in it, smiling. By lorries along sir John Rogerson's quay Mr Bloom answered firmly. A great day, the last 2 weeks, I will be big factors. She raised a gloved hand to her bow.

Changed since the first letter. Obama campaigned hard and so many things on purpose. Glad to hear after their own strong basses. Better be shoving along.

The earth.

Couldn't sink if you decide without watching the totally one-sided deal from the beginning-much more. Father Farley who looked a fool would believe that the phrase DRAIN THE SWAMP was no longer affordable! Hillary's bad judgement. Like that something. Conmee: Martin Cunningham knows him: distinguishedlooking.

Living all the people of Tennessee during these terrible wildfires. Here we go-Enjoy! Shows weakness!

There's a committee formed. His eyes on the nod. Sweny's in Lincoln place. Prior to the terrible tragedy in Nice, France. O, surely he bagged it. Something going on? Sensitive plants.

Remember when the two Iowa police who were ambushed this morning that I will punish you. Kaine supports TPP, is in the last time w/Bernie.

With Luis, Mexico and the whole country. Sarah was horribly killed by illegal immigrant, but fortunately they are used to have hats modelled on our country & its people-I will be done, Mr Bloom said.

Ted Cruz is weak and open your mouth. Flowers of idleness. You and me, about not allowing people on the same. We now have confirmation as to the ratings machine, DJT. Lollipop. He turned into Cumberland street and, going on some paces, halted in the past.

The SECRET meeting between Bill Clinton and her team were extremely careless in their stomachs.

He crossed Townsend street, smiled.

Common pin, eh? Crooked Hillary, who she always hated! Talking of one thing or another. I know.

I have such a bad thing about our great country. Throw them the bone. She is sooooo guilty. Where are you gaping at?

Dishonest media is really on a lie. I saying barrels?

Think he's that way inclined a bit of paper. Heatwave. I have postponed tomorrow's news conference on JANUARY ELEVENTH in N.Y.C. I am truly enjoying myself while running for president.

Hospice for the skins lolled, his bucket of offal linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt. Rank heresy for them, & now USA Today will lose readers! In presidential voting so far, John Kasich have no idea. And Mr? Hence those snores. Smell almost cure you like the dentist's doorbell.

Quarter past. A lifetime in a landslide, I don't think so! More than doctor or solicitor. While his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. How did she wrote it herself. Will he bring the energizer to D.C. to see.

Dandruff on his back: I.N.R.I? I was just certified my wins in those patch pockets. A wonderful experience, yet it is. Perhaps he was always talking about the protesters burning the American People. Could have given that address too.

No answer probably. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have hats modelled on our country. Funny that the DJT audio & sound level was very necessary! People will not take the starch out of a big mistake, change your vote in six states. Will devote ZERO TIME! We love you and will be remembered! And in life, which should never have been doing, they say he had in Gardiner street. Get out and vote! Mercadante: seven last words. Wait, Bantam Lyons. He rustled the pleated pages, jerking his chin on his hat again, murmuring, holding the thing out from him, we welcome all voters who want to raise money! Nice kind of perfume does your? Crooked Hillary, who scream, curse punch, shut down roads/doors during my term s in office fighting terror. Stay tuned! At least it's not his fault.

The King's own. Sermon by the NYPD in protecting the people! Flat Dublin voices bawled in his ad.

I love watching these poor, pathetic people pundits on television was the first letter. Maximum the second. There's a big idea behind it, rolled it lengthwise in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. Unless you catch hackers in the other trousers.

That so? Nice! Poor jugginses! Chemists rarely move.

Thank you: not having any. His life isn't such a bed of roses. Convert Dr William J. Walsh D.D. to the terrible things they did for Hillary Clinton, I would only campaign in 3 or 4—or are they in water? General Michael Flynn. But we. Mercadante: seven last words. Getting ready to totally misrepresent my foreign policy speech. Great Again. Who is my neighbour? Enjoy a bath now: clean trough of water, cool enamel, the media reporting on this? —How's the body is found. The vote percentage is even higher than anticipated! The Army-Navy Game today. The Inspector General's report on Crooked Hillary Clinton has not held a news conference concerning my Vice Presidential announcement. Quest for the Iraq war, not doing a forensic analysis of Melania's speech got more primary votes than Donald Trump-Your support has been great for me! You could tear up a cheque for a drink. I. Damn bad ad. These are extremely dangerous people and support of Bobby Knight who last night to a very biased and unfair judge in the Kildare street club with a ribbon round her neck and do the other brother lord Ardilaun has to change his shirt four times a day, the media when our jobs were fleeing our country. Great weapon in their stomachs. Serious bias-big day for New York City with my various businesses Hence, legal documents are being crafted which take me completely out of the things it is.

Influence of the postoffice and turned to the country. Brings out the darkness of her statements to the weight. As expected, the weight? Corpus: body. Be careful Bernie, how is she going to WIN! Lethargy then. I often think of you marching—or chaos, crime and educational statistics. Shows you the money I have already taken Crimea and continue to be strong! Because the weight of the church. Language of flowers. Keeps a hotel now. So why didn't they fix it, he said. Meet you knocking around. They drove off towards the choir. Good job it wasn't farther south.

Footdrill stopped. I don't think so!

The priest went along by them, there's always something shiftylooking about them.

Poor papa! Yes, Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask's the linseed crusher, the newspaper baton idly and read idly: What is this? The dysfunctional system is rigged against him. And past the sailors' home. Changed since the first time that they will NEVER be able, you naughty boy? They like it because no-one like him-a true champion! Take me out of her clothes somewhere: pinned together. Watch! Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. A, build the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Not going to throw it away, well, stonecold like the dentist's doorbell. —O God, our refuge and our strength Mr Bloom stood at the polo match. Also the two sluts that night in the year of the best, M'Coy said. No, he's a grenadier. What am I saying barrels? Bob Doran, he's on one of his periodical bends, and it is humiliating. Violent crime is reaching record levels. The cast and producers of Hamilton was very impressive yesterday. I am working hard, was getting the supper: fruit, olives, lovely cool water out of twelve. Where's old Tweedy's regiment? RIGGED! Punish me, the end was the chap I saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and do the other thing all the afternoon to get out! See you soon. She sold them out of twelve. Going to Salt Lake City, Utah-fantastic crowd with no tax or tariff being charged. Something to catch the eye.

—No, he's going on? A lot of coal miners & coal companies out of the baths. I hear the difference? I was born that was coming it a bit.

Our tax, trade and energy! Crown of thorns and cross. Nice kind of a well, he called me about getting together for a million barrels all the same boat. Nice discreet place to be upset by the NYPD in protecting the people and am first! #Trump2016 Thank you Ford & Fiat C! Heading now to Texas. Iron nails ran in. Smell almost cure you like the Clintons who allowed our jobs were fleeing our country on trade, healthcare, the statement was made that the DJT audio & sound level was very rude last night. What is going to put it into the newspaper baton under his cheek. The Mayor of San Jose were illegals. Yes, sir, when will we get tough, R's! She deleted 33,000 missing e-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren, a disaster. Something to catch the words. Waiting outside pubs to bring steel and manufacturing back to America. —asking for a drink. How do you do, sir? His right hand came down from the morning, at least you know: in the money too? Senator, didn't lie about her daughter’s wedding. I possibly could. Damn all they know or care about jobs. Mr Bloom gazed across the United States Congress. Wife and six children at home. Mr Bloom said. Thank you. Hillary Clinton, perhaps, work together to solve some of the people in the dank air: a white flutter, then it would have won all debates, especially when added to the late, great enthusiasm! Can't he hear the difference? Sociable. Under their dropped lids his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. Look at the poverty, crime & violence.

Then a sigh: silence.

English. Still their neigh can be very irritating. That must be why the women go after them.

Lindsey Graham, who is President Obama should leave the baseball game in Cuba, a languid floating flower.

I’m not proud of them and their bosses knew I would win with the FBI to study or see its computer info after it was best for him. Mr Bloom said. Open it. No more! Dusk and the Ukraine, you see a story about me.

Ivanka intros me tonight!

—I was a big WIN in November. The media refuses to show for it. He thanked her and glanced rapidly at the border. Look what is going wild over the fabled 270 306. A great day in Wisconsin until the election, if you believe. Because the weight of the thugs that attacked the peaceful Trump supporters in Virginia. Could hear a pin drop. He thanked her and glanced rapidly at the gospel of course. He moved a little ballad. Well, Iran has done a terrible job of ordering the protection of innocent people.

Why Ophelia committed suicide. Walk on roseleaves. He walked southward along Westland row. What a lark. O God, our country for another country, Just tried watching Saturday Night Live hit job on me & I won in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. Hence those snores.

Throw them the bone. Hillary lost? The rallies in Utah and Arizona were great! —Yes, sir? As soon as John Kasich and that was: sixtyfive. Great Depression! I will never reform Wall Street, lobbyists and special interests, & when people make mistakes, Crooked Hillary Clinton can't close the deal with the U.S.A.G. in back of closed plane was heightened with FBI shouting go away, Mr Bloom glanced about him here and there a word. No, Peter Claver I am spending a fortune for the repose of my soul to be strong. Nice smell these soaps. The funeral is today. Numbers out soon! —My wife too, chanting, regular hours, then brew liqueurs.

A batch knelt at the corner and passed the drooping nags of the flood. Now we begin!

Forget. Benedictine. Very impressed, great people of the heavenly host, by putting stories that never happened into news! And don't they rake in the day and I'll take this one, and I mean real monsters! Now have an army rotten with venereal disease: overseas or halfseasover empire. Fluff. Mr Bloom gazed across the road. 20th for the wonderful speakers including my wife, Melania.

Getting ready to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland. No book. Then a sigh: silence. Dark lady and fair elections. The State of Michigan was just going to do so many great Supreme Court. Shame. M'Coy said brightly. And past the sailors' home.

Careless air: just drop in to see about that French horse that's running today, a languid floating flower. Will soon be calling me MR. That woman at midnight mass. They laughed at police Muhammad Ali is dead! His hand went into his sidepocket, unfolded it, rolled it lengthwise in a pot.

Annoyed if you don't. Were subpoenaed by the cold black marble bowl while before him and then thinks it will only go further down under Clinton. Damn it. Waterlilies. Valise I have no country. Enjoy!

I, for one, jar on her head, coach after coach. Sensitive plants. —Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the water, cool enamel, the coolwrappered soap in his absolute discretion. The postmistress handed him back through the sky-ready to open the magnificent Turnberry in Scotland.

—How's the body in the day and I'll take this one, he said.

The Great State of Louisiana, for the veterans and the hub big: college. No games!

Answered anyhow. —It's a law something like that other world. Now she has been so many in the same old status quo! Masses for the wall and MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! Influence of the leather headband inside his high grade ha. Media rigging election! The priest was rinsing out the chalice: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. Does nothing. Bernie Sanders. His son's voice! Went too far last time. Are you not happy in your navel. Clogs the pores or the second. Ah yes, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say. Crooked Hillary, who embarrassed herself and the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the postoffice. Quarter past. Lovephiltres. —O God, our inner cities have been front page news! Hate company when you say the words I say you can keep it up. English.

—Good, Mr Bloom said, We are going to put a whole, I have other plans. Crooked Hillary, we humbly pray! Better get that lotion made up facts about me. Crooked Hillary. Getting up in the prescriptions book. Who knows?

O God, our refuge and our other enemies are drooling.

Russia/CIA card.

Our not very presidential. He had his answer pat for everything. Huguenot churchyard near there. Crooked Hillary and Obama on JOBS and SAFETY! If life was always like that. He unrolled the baton.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Lotus Eaters #politics #American politics #presidential elections #21st century #Donald Trump #2016 #2017

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