#yeah i just fucking love putting holster through the ringer
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morphing my personal holster knee injury headcanon to have it be later. like hoslster actually gets drafted like 3rd roundish and gets injured like 3/4 of the way into his first ahl season. takes the time off and by the time he gets well enough to play again it’s like a year and a half and the roster’s been filled and maybe he can hack it in the echl or another minor league but really his best bet is to go to college and get a degree and play hockey there.
i like this better i think both because there’s more angst and also i think holster would have the cheesiest fucking draft photos you’ve ever seen
#yeah i just fucking love putting holster through the ringer#also tell me holster would not have the lamest photo of him with a stick pointed at the camera that ransom makes his lockscreen for a month#adam birkholtz
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Don’t Say Sorry: Chapter 2 || S.R.
Warnings: Fighting (physically this time), bombs/grenades, bullet wounds, mentions of death, blood (loss), passing out, language
WC: 1.9k
After the Civil War, you, Steve, Natasha, & Sam are on the run. All hell breaks loose when aliens attack Earth and HYDRA figured out where you four are hiding. At the same time, Steve reveals the truth about the murder of your parents. What some now call the “Infinity War” then commences. Who will make it? Who won’t?
You look outside the window, holding a glass of water in your still-shaking hands. You had silently cried yourself to sleep, thinking about how much Steve had betrayed you, how much he had betrayed Tony, how much you had betrayed Tony. Tony had known, but why didn’t he tell— your thoughts are interrupted by the ringer on your SAT phone, signaling that you had gotten a text. Really, Steve? I’m not letting you talk to me, so now you’re texting me?
You had called upon your friend Daisy for a favor: four SAT phones. SAT phones were untraceable by the government or anyone else you hadn’t given access to your SAT phone. The only contacts were Daisy, Nat, Steve, and Sam. You had given Tony access too, just to see if he would try to find you, but nobody knew.
But instead of Steve’s name...
It was Tony’s.
Was he going to turn you guys in? Guilt falls upon you as you worry about him betraying you although you had been doing that very same thing for the past two years. You open up the text and it reads:
Tony
8:24 AM
Hey sis, how are you doing? Don’t worry, I didn’t tap the text. SAT phones, huh? Someone’s high-tech. How’s Nat doing? Sam? Hope you guys are okay, living on the run can be hard.
“Stark? What is it?” Nat asks mildly.
Your voice catches in your throat. “I— Um.. nothing. It’s nothing. Listen, I’m going outside for a couple minutes, I’ll be right back,” you announce absentmindedly, not even looking up from your phone. The morning humidity is noticeable, the sunlight casting a golden blanket across the landscape. You look back down at your phone, reading the whole message.
Tony
8:24 AM
Hey sis, how are you doing? Don’t worry, I didn’t tap the text. How’s Nat doing? Sam? SAT phones, huh? Someone’s high-tech. Hope you guys are okay, living on the run can be hard. Want to make sure my little sis can cope. Anyway, I was digging through some files and think I struck gold. I’ve attached it below. Tell me what you think. Stay safe,
Tony.
You swallow the lump in your throat as you open up the file; immediately, you feel as though all the wind has been knocked out of you. It’s an old photo of you, Tony, Mom, and Howard. But this one isn’t like the others, the ones where everyone is managing a fake smile and looking directly into the camera, one where the world would assume that you’re a happy family. Definitely not. You recognize a 3-year-old Tony and a 1-year-old you, grinning a toothy smile as Tony playfully stuck his tongue out at you. Mom was holding Tony in her arms, laughing at Tony’s silliness. But what hits you the most is Howard.
He has a genuine smile on his face, looking down at you in his lap. The same Howard that sent Tony off to boarding school when he was seven, leaving you alone for another two years until he did the same with you.
The same Howard that had never told you that he had loved you, not even that he liked you.
The same Howard that had always told you were a disappointment, nothing more than a waste of space and money. Whichever night that followed resulted in you getting zero sleep, tinkering away in your room for at least next twenty-four hours as though it would get rid of all your problems; although it wouldn’t. Mom stayed at your door for a couple hours, begging you to come out. Tony stayed outside your door the whole time.
Another wave of guilt hits you as a tear slides down your cheek, which you quickly wipe away. Honestly, how many tears could someone cry?
“Listen, I’m sorry—” Steve’s voice rings through your ears as sadness is replaced with anger.
“I don’t want to hear it,” you scowl as you push him to the side of the doorway, quickly walking towards the kitchen table and slumping down in a chair next to Sam. You look at the photo, trying to memorize every little pixel.
Looking over at you, Sam asks, “Who are they?”
You smile in nostalgia and sadness, wishing you could go back to those days. “That’s Tony, Mom, Howard, and I. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” You abruptly stand up, startling Sam and walk over to your nightstand, putting your phone as to not be tempted to look a the picture again. “So, where are we going next?” You ask, subtly changing the subject as Steve finally moves from the doorway to the kitchen, whispering something to Nat. She shakes him off.
“I was thinking that we could go to Brazil, I’ve heard—” and out of nowhere, you’re on the ground, ears ringing, vision blurred, and a throbbing pain in your head. Rubble is scattered everywhere, and if you had hit your head just a bit harder, you would’ve mistaken the specks of white drywall for snow.
What the hell? What’s going on? You try to get up and comprehend what happened as your head pounds, your hand instinctively going for the gun in your holster.
“Engage fire!” You hear as you put your back up against the bed, breathing heavily as your mind tried to gather itself and not slip into shock. You hear gunshots and turn the safety off on your gun, firing a couple shots blindly behind you. You peek over the mattress and catch a glimpse of a silver, snake-like badge. HYDRA.
Looking over at Steve, Nat, and Sam, you see that Sam and Nat are using the table as a shield, Steve army-crawling over to them while Nat temporarily holds her fire to help him behind the table. That table won’t hold. You frantically look for a way out, worrying that you all were outnumbered. You see a window open just to their left which the HYDRA agents couldn’t see due to a wall; Nat had opened it this morning to let some fresh air in. They have a chance to escape, and you needed to let them take it. Even if that means you won’t make it out.
“It’s HYDRA! There’s a window behind you guys! Plan two on me, go!” You yell at them, getting your gun ready to fire once again. Plan one was attack, two was a diversion, and three was to make a run for it. You four had made them in case of an emergency, but none of them had been used until now.
You put your left hand on the top of the bed and start firing as you rummage around with your other in Nat’s duffel for an automatic, a taser, a knife, anything. As you look back, you see Steve still using the table as his shield, with Nat and Sam out of sight. He probably let them land first so that they can start up the Quinjet. A few shots barely miss your head and you duck down behind the bed, letting out a string of very colorful words.
“Are you hurt?” Steve yells over the gunshots, and you shake your head no.
“I’m fine, but you need to get out!” You scream back, shooting blindly once more with no success.
“I’m not leaving you here!” Your heart pangs.
“Get to the Quinjet, and take off if I don’t come back in three minutes!” You reply, knowing you wouldn’t. The soldiers were advancing, most probably because they had noticed that there was no more firing coming from Steve’s side. You weren’t sure about the exact number, but there were either a hell of a lot or they had automatics.
“I’m not leaving y— grenade!” He yells at the top of his lungs, and your eyes fall to where his are. Damnit. Your eyes widen and without a second thought, you grab the grenade, and chuck it over the bed, ducking for cover, but not fast enough. A bullet hits you in the shoulder and you let out a cry of pain, dropping to the floor just as the grenade explodes. You hold your breath to see if your aim was on point, and sure enough, there aren’t any more gunshots. You sigh in relief and stand up, Steve running over to you.
“You’re hurt,” he points out the obvious, gently reaching out to grab your arm, but you pull away.
“I’m fine,” you lie straight through your teeth. Judging from the amount of blood having had soaked your tank top, you were far from fine, but the team didn’t need another thing to worry about right now. You look over at the agents, seeing that there were just four with six automatics. No backup.
“Fucking idiots,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. “Shit, we’re gonna be on the news.”
“That’s the least of our worries right now,” he points out, eyeing your bullet wound. “I don’t know if Tasha can stitch that up.”
“She can, and she will. We need to get out of here. Shit.” You sway from side to side, falling onto the bed.
“Oh my God.” Steve pulls you up, putting your good arm on his shoulder. Your vision flashes white before darkening, and you groan. “Hey, you have to stay with me, you hear that? You can’t black out now.”
“I’m not planning on that,” you moan, another wave of pain rolling over you.
Someone runs through the door and you immediately draw your gun, pulling both yourself and Steve to the ground as you fire over the top of the bed, ignoring the searing pain in your arm.
“Guys, it’s me, Natasha!” You peek over the bed to see that it indeed, is her. Sighing in relief, you and Steve both get up. You put a hand down on the bed to steady yourself, Steve immediately grasping your shoulders to stabilize you. “Holy shit.” And you know Nat’s seen your arm. Running over to you, she grabs your arm and you wince, hearing a muttered apology as she inspects the bullet wound carefully. “How the hell did this happen?” You open your mouth to respond, but she cuts you off. “Never mind, we’ll talk about it later.” You battle the urge to go to sleep, eyes fluttering.
“She’s losing blood fast. We need to get her to the jet. Can you walk?” Your brain barely registers what she asked.
“What? Oh— I, Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I can’t…” Your knees give way and Steve catches you, hoisting you up, bridal style.
“That ripped straight through the third part of her Axillary artery. If it was lodged, I wouldn’t be as concerned, but right now, her arm is going to bleed out if we don’t do something about it.”
“I’m still conscious, Nat,” you groan, burying your head in Steve’s chest.
“Can you fix it?” Steve asks nervously, biting his lip.
“I don’t know. Right now, we need to get her to the jet. We’ll have four minutes after she passes out to stop the bleeding, or else she’s gone.”
“Yeah, those four minutes are gonna start right about now.” You could feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness.
“Just try to stay awake for as long as you can.” You can feel Nat stroke your hair. “Let’s get to the Quinjet. The sooner we do, the better.”
“It’s okay, we got you. You’ll be fine.” Steve’s soothing voice is the last thing you hear before the darkness takes over.
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After having a very rough life that makes her want to risk it all at the age of 12. Elaina receives a call from her older brother begging for help with his new born daughter. After watching the fiasco Ari and Aaliyah, her little sisters started in Crenshaw and knowing they needed to lay low for a long time. They head to a Freeridge California and meet a little beat up boy named Cesar. After awhile they start to rebuild the never put together family that she's always wanted but what happens when his older brother finally gets out of jail?
Show some love if you like it! I do not own on my block or any of its characters. I only own my own ocs. I also dont own the pictures. If you don't like the book don't read it and I'm always welcome to nice criticism but if your an ass you will be removed. I also dont speak spanish so I'm gonna do the best I can.
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Driving to get to my new house in Freeridge was tiring as hell with my mija in the car. Dont get me wrong I know this is the first time we've got to spend time together in awhile but, I also know the girls hyped her up on candy and soda from the way she practically vibrating and jumping in her purple and black car seat. Fortunately she crashed from her sugar high about 40 minutes back and I would be able to carry her big head into the house.
Tapping my hand in the steering wheel, I pull through tagged up streets until I arrive at my new house in Freeridge, California. There were little trees and bushes blocking all edges of the house at the end of the street giving it a very good privacy setting. Its walls a off white concrete with beige tiles on the roof. There was a big yard big enough to store some of the cars Juju and I like to work on, a small garage and a doggie house for my dog Cerberus. As my eyes roam the house I let out the sigh that seems to have been on the tip of my tongue since I left my old home in Crenshaw.
I notice there were no lights on in the house and that I will have to get black out curtains, considering the amount of windows there were. It wont be good when I have to drink my self to sleep only to be woken up by the sun wanting to show how much holier it is than I. The houses off white cemented walls shined in the fading sunlight the light reflecting off the windows giving it a warm and cozy look thankfully along with the sun going down so is the famous unforgivable heat.
Stepping out of the car was a little more challenging than I thought it was going to be considering how my skin wanted to mend into the car seat. So, after I finally was able to surgically remove myself I was able to start walking up to the reinforced door one of the first things I noticed.
'That was probably one of Vin's ideas.' A bitter smile came at the thought....missing mi familia. I honestly don't even know where he is right now. 'I'll find you when it's safe again.' Already knowing the words were lies before they even left his mouth.
The second thing I notice was the cameras discreetly pointing at every angle surronding my house. So if a lizard crossed my yard I would know about it. I opened the door and propped it open with one of door stopper that was right next to it. Not even bothering to look further inside Going back to the car and I pull out mi hija without waking her while also grabbing whatever else we needed to spend one night in an empty house.
Quickly grabbing my silver .9mm from the glove department, I place it in my waist band of my black yoga shorts and start walking in the house and once fully inside, I put Nena and the bags down in the living room on the deep brown wooden floors before rubbing her hair. Glancing at her mixed cream skin with crazy black curly hair I secretly admire her beauty. 'She deserves this fresh start more than any of us. ' I quietly think to myself continuing to take in her peaceful sleeping face that looked so much like her fathers.
She has such an innocent face but, that's just what lures you in about her. She has such a devilish smile when you get past her angelic eyes.
Rubbing her hair once more I walk out and grab a few more bags before placing those bags around her as well. I go back and lock the door before going through her night bag and pulling out her pajamas.
Picking her up to wake her only causes her to start groaning and whining as she lazily opens her eyes and gives me a sweet soft kiss.
"We have to change your clothes before you go back to sleep Nena." I say quietly to the 3 year old.
"Tía" she said with her quiet rarely used voice it coming out soft and toddlerish. Her tired eyes trying to close despite my best efforts. God this girl could try to sleep through anything!
"You cant call me that anymore mija." I said to her softly with my soothing voice while looking into her deep amber eyes. My mother always said that I had the voice capable of putting anyone to sleep. I remember when I was 4 she told me one night that she wanted me to sing for her every night to chase away the nightmares. Unfortunately the next morning I found her overdosed in the tub covered in urine and throw up.
"Yes mama." She said starting to get a little excited but still in her sleep haze.
"I love you mama." Nena said burying her head into my shoulder. Secretly trying to go back to sleep from what I could tell by the way she started to slump into my arms.
"I love you too Nena. We have to get you changed before you go back to sleep plum."I said chuckling to the half asleep toddler before looking away and turning to my phone when I hear the gun shot notification. Clicking my phone on. I see a blaring picture of Nena and *Bang!!* another new text message. This one from the moving company. [ We will arrive Tomorrow at 7 am] Alright. Not that bad and there's really nothing I could do about that right now.
Scrolling to my other messages I see one from Abuela.
[ We are 30 minutes out. She is in a mood driving us all loco.] Chuckling when I finished reading.
'She just lost her sister, nana.' I thought to myself. Before shaking my head to get rid of the thoughts of her. Putting down Nena on the floor unconsciously bringing up old unwanted memories of before the beginning of all of this bullshit.
*Flashback 2 years ago*
Sitting here with my hands bruised, slashed, and bleeding all over the place from the street fights I've had that past week. The dark purple and yellow bruises seeming to do a puzzle the way they fit on top of each other.
Kissing my teeth and looking far out of space while throwing my head back, and letting out a small scream while standing up to let out my frustrations. Today was not a good day, but it seems like bad days are the only days I'm allowed to have anymore honestly. Turning my head around to fully take in my shitty surronding of an abandoned apartment building with dried blood on the walls, broken glass bottles everywhere, and dirty couches and mattresses. The whole place stunk of mold, anemone, and shit. A scoff escapes me.
'What am I even doing here?' I think to myself but in reality I already know why I was not home..... trying to get too fucked up to remember anything. This is not where I am supposed to be doing that though. I pry through the existing migraine to get to the depressing things I'm forced to call my thoughts. While pulling out my phone to check to see if I have recieved any messages, nope but it is 02:30.
'I should probably go home.' Although, as soon as that thought went though my head it was already gone. My mind being too filled with the existing numbness and static to absorb anymore thoughts of home.
Not now.... 'Theres no one there to return to anymore.'
Walking though the trashed old and moldy apartment building somewhere in NY blood territory if the tagged up place was anything to go by I stepped out side. Looking around I notice the tagged up neighborhood and my 2014 purple and black Dodge Charger. Stepping in the car with a groan I start the car and look at my phone again to connect the bluetooth and start playing Leroyce -Forever before I take off toward a destination not really caring where as long as it's not here.
Opening my glove department I pull out a blunt and light it before coming to a stop. 'Got to get off the road soon dont want to get pulled over again.' I sigh, even though I look older than it I am still only 10. One that really is tired of this worlds sandeces 'I really dont want to call Vin to tell the officer to let me go if I get caught.' I add another sigh to my day as I pull into a parking space and turning off the car. I continue to smoke my blunt while listening to the music letting it vibe though me. 'I haven't eaten in 3 days' I think with, yeah you guessed it another sigh not particularly having an appetite or craving anything to eat.
Putting out the roach that was left while also making sure my silver glock is by my side, I get out of the car and walk to the nearest store. Walking up to the 711 I open the door and notice there were three young chicos in the candy isle and an Arabian at the register. Going to the bakery isle I grab two banana nut muffins before going to grab a beer and some chips.
"Can I get a black and mild wood tip?" I asked as I walked up to the Arabian girl at the register. Her big brown eyes first going to my holstered gun before looking into my hazel green eyes. Looking like she was having a debate with herself on whether or not to ask for an armored mixed girls Id. Flipping her fake blonde hair it seems like she made the decision that she doesnt care about my life.
"That will be 9.34."
Placing a 10 on the counter I walk away leaving the change. Going straight back to my car rolling another one and, staring off into space letting my mind wonder into the depths that would only bring and leave more scars. The only thing that brings me back is the sound of my ringer going off. Looking at the screen I see a picture of my hermano Vin and I on the screen. My long curly black hair pushed to the side my eyes closed and a bright smile on my full lips showing off my pearly whites. Vins tattoed arms wrapped around his hermanita as tight as possible knowing that would be the last time we would see each other for awhile.... and it's already been 8 months. "Qué?" I demanded. As soon as I picked up the phone.
"Elaina."
"Hm?"
"Te necesito." His deep voice says hesitantly over the phone.'Really....now you need me?'
"Por qué?"
"We can't speak about it on the phone. I need you to come to me." His gravely deep voice demanded on the phone. Not really giving me a choice in the matter in my head.
But now, what could be so important that you cant tell me over the phone. Well the only way I was going to find out was by going to him.
"I'm in New York right now, get my location and set it to the nearest airport. Make sure you keep the cops from my route I dont want any problems. Order me a private jet and set it to where ever you are."
" Thank you Elaina."
Humming, then ending the conversation. I recieve the route not even a minute later. Taking care of my family is a full time job that I didnt even sign up for....but without them I would have given up a long time ago. I sighed pulling out of the parking lot finally lightin the blunt.
'This finna be some bullshit.Well at least I get to go to London.'
*Present*
Hearing a truck pull up outside the house. Walking to the door I peek out the bullet proof window to see Abuela's black truck outside. The short mexican lady is cursing my hermanitas the hell out I notice with a small smile. Knowing them they probably deserve it. Shaking my head I start making my way to the door unlocking the door and stepping onto the second brick step.
"THATS YOUR MOTHERFUCKING EXCUSE FOR GETTING ALL THAT SHIT ON MY SEATS!?" oooh car problems...... Walking right back inside grabbing Nena who found her toy bag and was currently sleeping on a stuffed animal. But she was already dressed in her pajamas so imma just count it as a win-win situation. I already did what I needed to do which was open the door.
"Sissy save us!!!!" I hear both my other twin sisters yell. No. You fucked up her truck. You did this to a crazy Mob grandma.
"Let's go find somewhere to sleep Nena." Walking off not listening to the distressing calls of "Sissy!" from all three my sisters now.
I end up picking the empty master bedroom mentally cursing my brother for not having furniture arrive before his family did. 'Pendejo.'
Laying down on the carpet floor while putting white headphones in my ears and using a giant panda stuff animal as a pillow I pull an already asleep Nena over me and, put her head on my chest before closing my eyes.
I stayed like that for hours my insomnia not letting me sleep and my mind never truly letting me rest. I sit, wait, and listen to my sisters and grandma put away the little things they had before going to sleep. Well at least two of them do.
Looking up to my door as I hear the door click open. My younger sister Juju is there with a burning blunt and bottle of Hennessy...... our sleep medicine.
She's wearing a faded purple spaghetti strap crop top and black pajamas shorts. Most of her tattoos being shown off due to the lack of clothes. Pushing a deeply asleep toddler off of me and onto the panda. I watched her wrap her arms around the toy before turning and grabbing my phone.
After making sure my bebé was still fully asleep, something I honestly dont know why I even questioned, I stand up.
Following my younger sister outside to the back yard we hop on the concrete railing facing opposite of each other with the bottle between us and pop it open. Taking out my phone I start to play Say yes by Floetry. Before I really start to look around the back yard. Cerberus was going to have the time of his life fucking shit up back here. He will be arriving tomorrow along with the furniture, he doesn't do well with long road trips at all so we decided to just drug him and put him on a plane along with the rest of the stuff.
"I thought Vin said he would be here?" Her raspy tired voice said drawing me out of my thoughts and making me turn towards her. Big puppy dog hazel eyes that had dark circles from lack of sleep and brown curly hair made her look like a sun goddess. Her light carmel skin basically glowing in the moon and pool light. Out of all of my siblings I connected with sisters the most. Maybe because I went through a lot of bull shit with them? Maybe because they shared the womb at the same time with me? Either way I'm happy for it considering how much the world seems to hates my guts its good to have sisters that actually care if I die or not.
"You know why he can't come here." I said hitting the blunt. Knowingly about to start an unwanted argument.
"Wouldn't you say to protect his girls he would actually be here with us?Not there trying to get himself killed?!"She asked irritated and worried.
"Hm." Taking the bottle she chugs down the liquor with no regrets. Before handing it to me when she is done, I do the same thing until I feel somewhat alright.
"What school are we going to go to? Will you do football?" Now why would I be thinking about doing football? This ain't my home.
"We will be going to sign up for school soon I guess and no I'm not doing football."
" You might be able to start a new life, have friends, find love." She continued. Her mind filled with nothing but romance, roses, and bullets. She already knew that we shouldnt really get attached to anyone out here. It was far to dangerous to get anyone evolved in our lives but right now on this railing she can dream.
"Are you listing out Liyah's to-do list or mine?" I said laughing and fully feeling the effects of the alcohol. Not wanting to be the one to state the facts.
"All of ours fool!" She says laughing. Her smile showing off her small dimples. The smile slowly going away putting her head on my shoulder before shaking it.
"After everything that's been going on we deserve it.........How did we get here hermana?" Sighing I dont answer, knowing that question was more towards the Angels than to me.
"This isn't fair, for him to send us to one place while hes halfway around the world." She continues with a slight whimper in her voice. Taking another sip out of the bottle before passing it and lighting a black and mild.
"He's trying his best." Those soft spoken words could've been yelled at the poor girl with how quickly she quieted down.
Looking over at her down casted head.
"Yeah he is trying his best....but, his best could be with us there to help." She said damn near sobbing. The medicine is working.
"You know why we cant do that Juju. Come on." I said picking her up from the railing and stumbling back into the room after I placed her next to Nena before turning around and locking the door. Poor girl was already asleep when I turned back around.
What could I expect though after everything that's been going on. Quickly checking my phone for the time to see 02:45. I finally lay down next to them and let the alcohol in my system drag me into Morpheus's arms.
#oscar diaz#on my block#sad eyes#cesar diaz#netflix#gangs#love#freeridge#spooky#santos#prophets#Spotify
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Smoke 11/16
Pairing: Ronin!Clint Batron x Black Cat!Reader
Warning: Violence. Torture mentioned. Death mentioned. Nightmares. Lies. Seducing. Sexual humor. Broken and damaged pasts. Killing. Possessive Male. Struggling to open up. Secrets. Dark past.
A/N: ENDGAME SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN IT, DON’T READ THIS!!!
After the snap, the avengers split apart. Finding their own ways to cope. Clint found his under a new identity, Ronin. Getting revenge for those they lost. For the family taken from them.
The evil left when heroes were wiped out, it became his mission to take out the evil. All while keeping a list of those who could help, if needed one day. Clint stumbles upon a woman, Cat. She’s a mystery in the dark. One happen stance meet, one night, gone like smoke.
After the second snap, setting the world right again. Fury is looking at those kept tabs on. When Cat appears on the screen, nobody know a lot about the mysterious woman who haunted Clint’s dreams and stole his favorite T-shirt. There’s a chance she’s in trouble, can Clint find her, convince her there is more, that he can save her?
But is he the cause of what’s after her? Just what mystery is she keeping all to herself? Or is he the one she’s trying to save?
Nat
Tied up with her own struggle. Out of the corner of her eye, someone has a grip on Y/N. White hair fans out as he slams her down on the table. His hand closes around her neck, pinning her in place. Nat hits harder, to break free.
“I’ve seen you before.” The guy chuckles, leaning over Y/N.
“It’s the ears.” She sasses, struggling. Her foot swings up, connecting with the side of his head. He stumbles but doesn’t let up. Nat drops her opponent, stepping over him, she snatches up the discarded whip.
“Nah, that ass is hard to forget.” He chuckles. The end of the whip wraps around his neck, with the snap of her wrist. She yanks back, pulling him slightly back from Y/N.
“No. No.” Nat grins. His hand closes tighter around Y/N’s neck.
“Twist!” She struggles, planting her feet on the table. Nat snaps her wrist turning the handle. The voltage crackles, he stiffens, shaking as he lets go of Y/N. Dropping to his knees, Y/N shoots up, her foot collides with his face, sending him slamming back into the ground.
“Thanks.” She rubs her neck, jumping off the table.
“How do I get one of these?” Nat grins looking at the whip in her hand.
“Give it a run.” She smirks. “I don’t mind sharing.” She shrugs, the two of them heading out of the room.
“Clint doesn’t have that same thought.” Nat smirks.
“I can hear you.” Clint sighs in their ears.
“Don’t be a prude, babe.” Y/N grins, before she steps over the railing, dropping off the edge. Nat leans over to look down. A grin on her face.
“Romanov, stop drooling on my girlfriend.” Clint sighs.
“There are other things I could do.” Nat grins.
“Meow.” Y/N giggles back.
“Mission guys.” Steve groans.
“Multitasking Rogers.” Nat sighs, heading down the stairs after Y/N.
-----------
Clint
It’s an all out in the middle of the street, between buildings. What went from weapons, to hand to hand, in seconds. His elbow slams back, knocking someone down. Y/N is in front of him, when he turns.
“Behind you.” They reply together. His hands grab her hips, flipping her over his shoulder. He hears her feet hit the ground and something or someone follows.
“Need help!” Peter yells in their ears. Y/N’s head snaps up as he turns. She didn’t need to ask where he was, she knew. She looks at Steve.
“Throw me!” She orders.
“What? No!” Clint steps towards her. She pins him with a look of death. She grabs Steve by the holster straps, yanking him forward.
“Listen America. Throw me. I land on my feet.” She demands. Steve nods, lacing his fingers together, he puts his hand out for her foot.
“Ready?” He asks, her hands on his shoulders. She nods.
“Go!” She yells. Steve throws her straight up. She goes up and over the edge of the roof out of view. The fight on the ground continues. There’s a thump, several yelps, a groan, followed by a heavier thump.
“Y/N?!” He yells, breathless. The six of them exchange a look.
“Oh god. Thanks Cat.” Peter groans.
“Fuck.” She hisses, suddenly.
“Cat?” Peter struggles.
“Peter? What happened?” Steve orders.
“Feels like, broken rib.” Peter replies.
“Sam.” Clint turns looking. He nods taking off.
“Got her.” Sam replies after several moments. “Meet you at the jet.” Peter manages to ungracefully drop to the ground, stumbling on his feet. Buck catches him, keeping him up right.
“Man, am I glad she’s on our side.” Peter yanks off his mask, he looks like he went a few rounds.
“Why?” Clint asks, the six of them head for the jet.
“I was on the losing end of that fight.” Peter winces. “Till she jumped in. She’s lethal.” He nods.
“What happened?” Steve asks.
“He wouldn’t go down. He used me as a punching bag.” Peter waves his hand down the length of him. He did look like he had been through the ringer. “She came out of nowhere. He punched her, dropping her to the ground.” Peter nods. Clint’s stomach lurches. “He kicked her. She got up, it was like she didn’t take knowledge of the broken ribs. She jumped on his back, putting a blade in his neck.” He shoves a hand through his messy hair. “She went to pull me up and dropped in pain.” He nods.
“Kid you need to get checked out.” Buck looks him over.
“I heal fast. She doesn’t.” Peter waves him off.
“She came to your rescue, Parker.” Nat smirks at him.
“Makes up for the time she knocked you out.” Wanda nods.
“Hell yeah it does.” Peter snorts. Buck drops back, letting Steve help Peter up the ramp of the jet.
“You okay?” Buck asks.
“Nat helped her. She helped Peter. She was watching my back, like I watched hers.” Clint nods.
“She just might trust us after all.” Buck grins.
“It’s a step in the right direction.” He smirks.
“I’m not taking them. I will claw your eyes out.” She hisses. He sighs, looking over. She’s sitting on the table, arm wrapped around her middle. Sam is stepped back with his hands up. Banner looks a little amused.
“Barton.” Sam’s eyes cut to him and back to her.
“Tattle tale.” She squints at him.
“What’s the problem.” Clint drops his bow strolling towards them.
“She won’t let Banner look at her ribs. She refuses medication.” Sam nods.
“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Banner hands over a water bottle with a straw. “Can you just get her to drink the water.” Banner nods, looking at him.
“Drink it.” Clint takes it, handing it to her.
“I don’t want it.” She sasses.
“Fine. Serum twins can hold you down and I’ll medicate you with force.” He shrugs.
“God.” She takes the bottle, throwing the straw at Sam with a dirty look. She downs the bottle in a few gulps. “Happy?” She huffs.
“Meds will kick in, in a few minutes.” Banner nods.
“What?” Her eyes grow round. The bottle falls from her hand bouncing to the floor of the jet.
“How did you think to do that?” Sam laughs.
“It’s like dealing with Tony.” Banner shrugs.
“I’m so offended right now.” Y/N’s mouth falls open.
“At being drugged or compared to Tony?” He grins at her.
“Both.” She scuffs.
“Awe but you’re so much prettier than Tony.” Clint chuckles, running a knuckle down her cheek.
“That’s true.” She nods, softening up.
“Meds are kicking in.” Buck laughs.
“She’s mean.” Sam shakes his head.
“She threaten you?” Peter smirks, letting Nat clean him up a little.
“Told me she would eat me.” Sam smirks. “I don’t know how to take that, but I’m a little turned on.” He shrugs.
“She has that affect.” Wanda laughs.
“I take a nap, right here.” Y/N mumbles. Her eyelids heavy, as she moves, curling up on the table.
“How much did you give her?” Steve looks at Banner.
“I wasn’t sure how fast her metabolism is. So I gave her the dosage for a feline.” Banner shrugs.
“No that makes sense. She’s over eighty percent feline structure in her cells. She probably doesn’t take meds cause they aren’t the right dosage for her and don’t work.” Peter points out.
“Anyone notice this is the longest she’s gone without a sass remark or something sexual?” Buck looks around.
“You’re dating the female version of Tony.” Peter snorts. Clint sighs, shaking his head slowly.
---------------------------------
Everything Peaches 2/6/19:
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Marvel Tag List 2/6/19:
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Clint ‘Destory Me, I’ll Thank You’ Barton:
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Smoke:
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#Marvel#Clint Barton x Reader#Avengers#Clint x Reader#Smoke#Marvel Fanfiction#Clint Barton Series#Avengers Fanfiction#Ronin Series
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Dead Earth 3rd installment
Ringer had killed a couple men back in Quorum, and that was the problem. Quorum was pretty rough and tumble; those men he shot were mean and tough, and he figured it made him a real bad hombre.
He was tall and slim, and he fancied himself a gunfighter, wearing a pistol in a shoulder rig and another in a holster tucked into the back of his belt. Somewhere along the way he had joined up with Daily, a big beefy man who loved to hit things with his fists, and the two of them pretty much thought they were the toughest dudes to ever live. Geo, a smallish young man, was impressed by them, and latched onto the pair.
Breen only had two other crew members: Cee W., a copilot he’d met on a night the young man was fed up with his previous employer, and Hanah, an old ship hand who kept to herself, knew how to do her job and everyone else’s too. Breen’s ship The Grabbyelle was already warming it’s engines for take off by the time Ringer, Daily, and Geo showed up, late as usual.
“They’re on, Cap’n” Hannah’s voice sounded in Breen’s ear.
“Lift it” Breen told Cee W.. Once they were on course, he turned over control to his copilot and called a crew meeting in the galley. Hex and Jackal would be there, Cee W. would listen in on the com.
_____________________________________________________________________
Breen did a double take as he entered the galley and saw Hex. She was wearing a kind of business suit in crimson and black, with plenty of gold jewelry, somehow managing to look like both a CEO and a pirate -- the pirate effect highlighted by the nine inch blade strapped to her left thigh and a long wool coat draped over her shoulders like a cloak. Jackal was beside her in similar if less flashy garb. His large foxy ears were plainly visible through a brimmed hat with two holes for them, but looked at first glance like they might be part of it, like feathers stuck in the hatband. Wearing a vest and no jacket, he had a sort of short staff slung across his back. It was the least number of visible weapons Breen had seen on them yet.
When Ringer and Daily came in trailing Geo behind them, Hex and Jackal had their interest right away. Ringer leaned insolently against a counter eyeballing Jackal, and Daily walked over and lewdly ran his eyes up and down Hex.
“Well well, Captain, what have you brought us?” Ringer said, looking at Jackals ears, then glancing at Hex. “Pets? Are they house trained?” Jackal’s eyes narrowed a little, and one ear flicked. “What do think Daily, she got a tail hidden away behind her? Aww, what am I sayin’, you probably don’t care if she’s human or not”
“Shut up, Ringer” Daily said flatly, leaving his eyes on Hex.
“You’re out of line, Ringer” said Breen, with more confidence than he felt, “You too, Daily, back off! Don’t be rude to our clients” Daily lingered a second, then moved to sit at the table with Hannah and Geo.
“Oh clients!” said Ringer, bowing sarcastically “So sorry, I didn’t realize.” Suddenly ignoring Hex and Jackal, he dropped into a chair and faced Breen, who also sat. “What’s the job?”
Before he could answer, Hex said “I’ve hired this ship and its crew to retrieve something of mine. A box my uncle left me.”
“We need a whole ship for that?” said Geo skeptically “Must be a big-ass box”
“Not so big,” said Hex, as Jackal brought her a mug of black caff and sat at the table, “it’s not the size, it’s the location. I hope you all are ready for a rough time -- we’re going down to the Old World.”
Well, they didn’t like to hear that, and with good reason. The Lunar Colonies had been established close to 200 years ago, and the Earth had been considered a dead and dangerous planet for most of that time. Oh, there were things living on it, but it mostly wasn’t a fit place for people to live. Some did anyway, such were the ways of humans, to claw existence from the barest chance of survival. They lived amid the wreckage left by a combination of environmental disaster and global warfare, an apocalyptic wilderness considered uninhabitable by most of what was left of humanity. Many of those left on the planet were either genetically altered or cybernetically augmented, the progeny of laboratory creations during the last, war-torn decades of a fully populated Earth.
Called derogatory names like “grader” “shifter” “alter” and “mutie” (slurs short for upgraded, gene-shifted, altered, and mutant) people with cybernetic or genetic enhancements were not welcome in the lunar colonies. First generation Upgraded and Gene-shifted entities had been designed for war and terror, often mimicking horror story creatures such as vampires and zombies, or housing weaponry and programing for battle and assassination. Not just people, there were many human-created animals, some of which were quite intelligent. And there were micro-organisms and nanobots still swarming the planet, as well. When a last large-scale evacuation had finally been implemented, the Planetary Evacuation and Transfer Agency had screened for and denied entry to all Enhanced Beings, a policy meant to prevent “infecting” the supposed purity of the Lunar Colonies.
“I shoulda known a couple of damn shifters would try to get us down the well” said Daily, referring to the gravity well created by the planet. “Like hell I want to go there, full of vampires and borgs and nano-mites and who knows what.”
“That box of your uncle’s must have something worth a whole lot of money in it for you to hire a ship and land on that death rock,” mused Ringer. “What’s our share?”
Hex looked at him coldly “Whatever worth that box has is only valuable to me. There’s nothing in there for you. What you get is a working ship in operation, with its dock fees paid off and plenty of food and water, and your normal crew rates.”
Ringer scowled and looked over at Breen “That right, Captain? We working for zero percent of the haul? Doesn’t seem fair, that.”
“Can’t make money on a ship with empty tanks and unpaid dock fees, Ringer. I saw a chance and I took it. You’re getting paid your crew rate. Sometime in the next few hauls maybe we’ll find something that’ll earn you a nice bonus. Meanwhile, eat up, sleep tight, do your job, and draw your normal pay.”
“I don’t like it at all,” Ringer replied “and I know Daily and Geo don’t either. How ‘bout you, Hannah? You want to go down to Old Earth? Getting old to try that kind of environment, aren’t you? And I bet you don’t like to work a run and not get a percentage”
Hannah, never impressed by Ringer and his friends, shrugged “You ever shipped out on one of those big ol’ EA astroid miners? They charge you for room and board the whole time you’re on the ship, gotta pay it out of whatever you manage to mine while you’re out in The Black. If you don’t find enough ore to pay your bill, you don’t get to leave the ship when it docks, gotta head back out on the next run and hope your luck is better. Plenty of them miners never manage to get free, spend the rest of their lives working for that EA mining corp, never see a single kuai in their bank account. This here’s not my favorite deal, but it’s a deal, and a better one than I’ve had from some. Captain says we might get something extra later on, then I expect there’s a good chance of that, he ain’t lied to us yet.”
Hannah grinned nastily at the lanky troublemaker, “As for taking a trip down the well, you don’t worry me none with that talk, Ringer, what with you never even breathed the Old World air. You might be surprised to know I actually been down there before, an’ I ain’t so old I can’t go again. What’s more, I’m twice as likely to make it back as you are yourself, and that’s facts. That there planet eats up men think they’re tough like you, just plain eats ‘em right up; why, you oughta be scared more than you are, really.”
“Scared?” Ringer was outraged. “You keep talking, grannie,” Ringer bit out, “I’ll show you who’s tough”
“Alright, that’s enough,” said Breen, “In 52 hours we’ll be landing. It’s a dangerous world, but we’re just making a pick up, and taking off. No reason for everybody to get all wound up. Now you’ve heard the job, and that’s how it is. Everybody back to work. Hex, I’d like to speak to you on the bridge at your convenience” and with that, he walked out.
Daily stood up, looking at Hex, “How ‘bout it, lady, you want to come see me in my quarters when you’re done with the captain, I’ll show you a real man.”
“That’d be nice” said Hex, “I been looking for a real man since I got here.”
“Oh yeah?” said Daily, grinning lustily.
“Yeah,” said Hex, wryly, running her eyes slowly up and down Daily “and I haven’t seen one yet” and turned her back and left.
“Fucking bitch!” Daily exclaimed and leapt up to follow, but suddenly Jackal was face to face with him, fangs bared, staff out with the tip resting against Daily’s chest, stopping him. Ringer put his hand to his gun, but Jackal said “Daily dies if you do, Ringer. Daily, you better call off your buddy if you want to live. You know what a bangstick is?”
Off to one side, Hannah chuckled. “You boys sure went knocking on the wrong door. Better go easy there, Ringer. Bangstick is a compression gun, Daily, in case you don’t know. Just a pipe with a round loaded in, usually shotgun shell -- you jab it against anything and it hits the pin, fires the round. You’re mighty close to having a big hole right through you, boy.”
“That’s exactly right,” said Jackal “and your pal Ringer there could make me nervous, with his hand on his gun like that.”
“Let’s go, Ringer,” said Daily, slowly, “this is a bad start to a fight. We can pick a better time and finish it.”
“Anytime at all, cabronés,” said Jackal, as Ringer took his hand away from his holster and Daily backed away. “You try it anytime you want”.
Daily and Ringer left.
Hannah looked at Jackal. “You remind me of some folks. You ever ship with any of the Old Fleet?”
Jackal grinned at her and winked, touched the brim of his hat and left.
Hannah whistled soundlessly and looked across the table at Geo. “Kid, I never liked those two you hang out with, but you seem okay, so I’ll give you some good advice for free. If they go after these two, you just let them go and do it without you, I’d hate to see you killed. That there was a Galloglas, or I’m Queen of the Moon.”
Geo wrinkled his brow at her. “What in the diyu is a Galloglas?”
“You ever hear of the Old Fleet?” Geo shook his head at her. “The Council of Captains?” Geo shook his head again. “Well, you know how Sol Union got started?” Geo shrugged. “Por su madré, what all are they teaching people these days?” she said, “Well okay then, listen up, I guess this here is story time.”
“Back in the day, the Old Fleet was called the Station Supply Fleet, or the Service Fleet. A handful of giant ships created to service the seven space stations.
Life on these stations was secretive even back then, and from the beginning, their smaller populations tended to have a lot of brains and be in the top of their field. Then those folks raised a few generations of children who were certainly very, very smart, even if no one has ever proved they’ve been genetically enhanced to be extra intelligent, as rumor says.
Those stations, whole little worlds unto themselves, were busy developing goods and services in their areas of specialty -- those things they still produce, like robotics, medical research and narcotics, specialized food production, entertainment. But that wasn’t all they developed while floating around out in The Black. They also developed their own ways of life.
Sort of the same way, the Service Fleet was making their own cultures too. Most of those ships were crewed by several hundred men and women on back to back between-station journeys that could take three years or more each trip, and they naturally started their own way of living.
So anyway, it wasn’t long before the stations began to have differing opinions about what the law should be on-station. Different from each other, a bit, and very different than the governments that thought they controlled them.
More and more those opinions disagreed with the opinions of Earth and the Lunar colonies, and when one of those disagreements came to a head on Station Delta, the old Space Command found out very quickly that one of the things all the stations had in common was an opinion that attempts at military boarding and take-over of a station would not be tolerated.
The long and short of it was, the few surviving members of the Lunar Military incursion team wound up reporting that yes, the extremely intelligent people of Station Delta had, in fact, thought to engineer quite well against armed intrusion. Planetary authorities were further caught with their pants down when the seven stations of Sol System immediately unionized and seceded en mass, announcing themselves an alliance of self-governing bodies. Looking back, they had to have been planning it for a while, secretive messages going back and forth in the dark for years. Anyway, that’s how Sol Union was born.
The days-old Sol Union then gave the Supply Fleet that serviced them an offer, which was simply: join us.
Now those ships relied heavily on those stations to supply and refuel. There was no way to land them on the Moon or on Old Earth, they were designed to dock with the stations. And I imagine a lot of those ships didn’t care for being ordered around by government folks who didn’t know what life in the Fleet was like, most of who’d never even served on board any ship at all.
On each ship of the Fleet, decisions were made about the Sol Union offer. On some ships, there were votes. On other ships arguments were more pointed. Explosive, even. Two ships were lost entirely.
In the end, the Council of Captains was formed (some of whom were very new to their captaincy indeed). They defined each ship as an autonomous entity, and unanimously offered an alliance with the Sol System Union, simultaneously offering Earth and the Lunar Colonies a peace-treaty with trade agreements. Once the Sol Union signed that alliance with the Council of Captains, there wasn't really any choice for Terran or Lunar governments; the station labs produced a lot of the best goods and technology: medical equipment and vaccines, personal electronics, as well as widely enjoyed arts and entertainment- that last bit was particularly tricky for Space Command to get around. It was extremely difficult to keep the support of the citizenry when the 'enemy' was so damned popular.
But mostly it was that the ships of the Fleet were almost all of the serious space-craft humanity had made up til then. There was no space navy, nor any kind of second fleet to provide shipping. In effect, the rebel Union, while refusing to trade any of their products with Terra, had agreed to sell to the Fleet, who was offering to sell those things to the Earth and Moon. And buy goods from them to sell to Sol Union, of course. Neither Terra nor Luna could afford to refuse, and indeed, the Delta Solar Treaty worked well for all concerned. Still does.
Now, one of those ships, the captain was a woman named Reilly Galloglas. Nobody is sure how or where, but her crew started buying or building smaller ships. They spread out some. Some of them turned Pirate. Some of them started raiding Earth, scavenging and selling black market goods. Some of them even left off shipping out and worked security for a station here and there, or started a business. Mostly they’re one big family, even if distantly related. They’ll adopt long time crew members, and I’ve heard tell some people marry into the family. But they never take in or keep anybody who doesn’t live up to their standards, born in or not. And there are three things you have to know about them Galloglas folk.
First, they’re honest and honorable, even if half of ‘em are criminals and pirates. I mean they might steal all your money, but they won’t lie about it, they’ll keep any promise they make, and they’ll only kill someone who’s armed and facing them. Second, they’re a hard, dangerous, deadly folk. They don’t run from a fight, you can believe it; there’s just no back up to ‘em. And third, they are loyal as fuck. They mostly handle their own business, but gods help anyone who backshoots one, or gets one too outgunned and they have to call for reinforcements.
I only ever heard one time it happened. ‘Bout sixty years ago, the Theta Station Mining Co. had a difficulty with one, and blew her ship up while she was on station talking to them about it. They musta figured to strand her there, or something. I don’t know if they realized that little ship had her husband and kids on it, but she sure made sure they knew it by the end. Every Galloglas near got involved, and that right there is why there’s only six stations left in Sol Union. The rest of them stations looked at shrapnel left where the station had been, checked their options, and allowed as how Theta had fucked up and got what they deserved. They sorta buried the whole story and moved on quick. They surely didn’t want to push the issue with that Galloglas crew. I reckon if it came to it, they’d all of them show up, and I don’t see how there could be less than 500 of them Galloglases, maybe two or three times that number, a bunch of ‘em with their own ships, and every one a demon in a fight.”
Son,” Hannah looked into Geo’s eyes, “you take an old lady’s advice, tell your friends to lay off - them two are a lot more trouble than Ringer and Daily can handle”
“I will Hannah, thanks” said Geo. And a couple hours later, he did.
But the problem was, Ringer had killed a couple men back in rough and tumble Quorum, and he figured it made him a real tough guy.
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