#I’ll inevitably be walking in that hell weather anyway to get to the bus and go to work so woohoo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unnecessarywriting · 4 years

Text

Agent Rogers

Chapter 3: Assemble

A/n: Hello all! I am back again with a new chapter. I hope you all enjoy, and I just wanted to say that I will be updating some more soon. Any questions will be answered in further chapters in flashbacks and such, so if you are confused, well just hold on, but feel free to ask me questions whenever. Requests are open still and I will still tag people. Thank you all for reading!

I sit in the bath and let my body soak in the hot water. My latest mission was much longer than it should have been. My three-day excursion in the Andes became two weeks of battling the hot vs cold weather while avoiding getting caught in a safe house all on my own. I almost felt a little lonely, but soon enough I was able to finish up and get the intel to help my company. Yes, Fury is director, but Shield is mine and forever will be.

My phone buzzes and I know another mission is on its way. I would let it ring, but Fury would only get annoyed and make my life a living hell.

“This is my bath time so it better be something important.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble agent, but there is an emergency. Our world is in danger, so I’m engaging in the Avengers initiative.” Same old Fury, always so serious.

“Alright. I gave you the role of director, so I didn’t have to have my bath time interrupted. Go ahead with your plans, make the world a safer place and all that, and don’t call me again.” I hung up the phone and tossed it aside. I did not have time to deal with something, not of my concern.

Thirty minutes later I step out of the tub and wrap my fluffiest bathrobe around my body. The bliss I feel is interrupted by an incessant knocking on my front door.

“Here I thought that I could have a relaxing night to myself,” I mutter to no one. “You know, I’m not gonna live forever so I don’t know why I can just have tonight to mys-“ the door opens and reveals Agent Coulson.

“Not gonna live forever ey?” He pushes past me into my house. “You would’ve fooled me, Agent.”

“I told Fury that he can do what he wants. It’s not my business unless he throws Shield under the bus when he inevitably fails.”

“We need you. I know you refuse to see yourself as an avenger, but we both know that you are one of the most skilled assassins in the world, not to mention the serum flowing through your veins.”

“You make it sound like I asked for this to happen,” I say pouring some wine into a glass.

“I thought the serum prevents you from getting drunk.”

“Sure, but I can still enjoy the taste. It is quite delightful Coulson. What exactly do I need to do?”

He hands me a manilla folder holding information about one Loki Laufeyson.

“So, still at war with aliens. He was the one from before when Thor came to Earth the first time right?”

“Yes, but now he is after the Tesseract. We need you to infiltrate his people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean exactly? It’s not like he’s some small-time gang robbin’ banks and such. He’s a damn God for Christ’s sake. I may be above the average person, but I don’t have any powers to fight off someone like him.”

“You have a few powers that have gotten you this far in this world of corruption. Liz, he has Clint under some spell. You’re the only one that will be undetectable and let’s face it, as far as anyone is concerned, you’re just another Agent with a vendetta against Shield.”

“Fine, I’ll do it. But I’m not going anywhere near him.” I finish sipping on the red liquid at the thought of having to finally face him.

“You don’t have to. You two are doing separate missions, but I can’t guarantee that will stay the same throughout this instance. Loki is unpredictable.” Coulson turns to walk away.

“And Liz, he doesn’t know about you. The only file we have confirms your suicide back in the day. I think you at least owe him knowledge of your life. He has no one, and he hasn’t taken to the time yet.” I stay silent and pour another glass hoping that the alcohol will suddenly start to intoxicate me, but alas, I am cursed to live in this world.

——

Dressed in my black suit, I emerge into the underground base run by Loki. I see Clint approaching me.

“Agent, what are you doing here? This is no place for you. His hand is preparing to grip any weapon.”

“Relax Barton, I’m not here as a part of Shield. Where’s your guy?”

“I presume you are looking for me?” The man from the picture in my file comes forth from behind Clint.

“Loki I presume?” I extend my hand. He obliges with a royal look of suspicion.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure, Lady,”

“Elizabeth. And you see, I heard about your diabolical plan to take over the world,” I say accentuating the place around me with my hands, “ and I couldn’t help but wonder how you would do that without my help.”

“And what is it that you could do for me?”

“Well, for starters, I’m a much better company than that fool over there,” I say pointing to Clint. “But I also know a lot about Shield. More than anyone else.” I try to hide my knowing smirk, but it’s a struggle.

“How exactly is that true. You appear to be some lowly agent. You could very easily be lying to me right now. I do have a way to find out.” He extends the tip of the spear to my heart. I grab the spear before he has the chance.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Although I do like having someone else having total control over my body, my mind remains my own always. I have no reason to lie, which is precisely why I will not tell you exactly who I really am, or how I know what I know. I can assure you, however, that there are things in this world I do not approve of, and I am intrigued by you and your ideals.” So, I told mostly the truth. He’s a trickster, and as one myself I know it is very difficult to trick another one.

“I like you. Let’s get to work.” I smirk knowingly.

——

On the Helicarrier

After running the cross-examination there was a 79% match for Loki in Stuttgart, Germany. Fury looks at his phone when the ping comes through.

Did the camera get him?

He looks at Steve.

“Captain, you’re up.” Steve nods in response.

——

I chose to wear a black gown. It is a sad day I presume. I flew all the way to Germany, and I doubt I’ll get to have any Schnitzel. What a sad day it is.

I walk into the ballroom of well-dressed men and women. Loki is due anytime. My mission was to report, not to act, so all I can do is watch as he saunters down the steps. Everyone becomes flustered, but I move to the stairs where I sit up on the second floor overlooking this event. He pierces the man’s face, and I can’t help but return to my dark days for a second. If he wasn’t so psycho, he may have been my type, but times have changed. He won’t live very long anyway if Shield has a say. I know I may just overrule Fury to watch him executed. Taking over the world, the last time anyone really made that attempt, my brother did everything he could to stop it. And what do you know, we’re back in Germany. I guess what they say is true, history repeats itself. My thoughts are interrupted by Loki’s yelling outside.

I walk out and see four of him standing with giant horns. Really? What kind of villain wears something as atrocious as that. I mean come on Loki, you were doing so well. I watch the old man rise amongst all the others. Of course, the German from my time has something to say. It’s quite rich actually, refusing to be ruled by some crazily dressed dictator in this decade. My amusement is cut short by the entrance of one man dressed in red, white and blue. Here he is. Alive and well. I inch away from the scene. There is no way I’m getting in the way of this. I may actually switch sides and really help Loki. I go back inside and watch through the large windows. Maybe this was Coulson and Fury’s plan all along.

I watch my brother get beaten by this fool until I hear see none other than Tony Stark. Oh yes, the avengers include him. It’s like a family reunion right before my eyes. I leave the building and prepare to get on the quinjet back to the helicarrier. I need to make sure this doesn’t get messed up by those two idiots.

——

“How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can’t hope to control. You talk about peace and you kill because it’s fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did.”

I stand in the hallway listening. I hate having to play the double agent, but I can’t stop Clint and I have to make sure that all hell doesn’t break loose on this craft. Do I want to be here? No, but I can’t stay back and let Loki do whatever he wants here. I also don’t know how to help Clint, and the only way to figure that out is by being with the best scientists in the world.

I hear Stark come out and talk about god knows what. He honestly sounds just like his father back in the day. I continue to listen as he goes on about everything the iridium can do. I turn around the corner and enter the room.

“Well, if it isn’t our wonderful agent. Long time no see.” Fury says with a bit of anger in his voice. “Do you have any answers for us, or are you just here for the show.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean, but let me make one thing clear, this is the last place I want to be. Stark, it sure has been a while. And Romanoff, I see that you’re still sulking over Barton.” I like an entrance. I can feel Steve’s eyes follow me carefully trying to figure me out. I guess I’ll just play the great-great-niece card.

“Everything Stark said is right, I’m pretty sure. I don’t fully know everything about all of that gibberish, but I do know that they are building that portal.”

“Then why are you here then.”

“Simple. I am completing my mission. I go where Loki goes. He trusts me, I think, and if I have to play the game of double-agent, then so be it. Anyway, the staff has nothing to do with the Tesseract. They are two different beings entirely. I believe that there is some type of power to it, one that is like no other. I observed it as closely as I could, and while there are similarities between the two, they are very different.”

Banner and Stark look to one another, I assume sharing some sort of genius telepathic ideas.

“What about Barton?” Nat looks at me carefully.

“He’s in no imminent danger, but he easily could be. I couldn’t take the risk of investigating him and then having to kill him. I don’t know how to fix him exactly, which is why I am here. Banner, I know that you're only here to find the Tesseract, which I would’ve loved to help with by the way, but they are already on the move and I don’t know where to, I need your help or expertise in figuring out that spear.”

“I think I can help in the meantime while we look, but there is no guarantee that I can understand it.” I nod my head in understanding.

“Cap, you’re awfully quiet.” Stark urges.

“I know, ‘who are you? How do you look just like her?’ Let’s keep it simple then. Hey Uncle. It sure is really great to meet ya. We can talk about this some other time, alright? Now if you don’t mind, I need to talk with Loki and make sure he knows what’s going on.” I leave and try to avoid the disappointing looks on Fury and Coulson’s faces. It is for the better and for my own safety. I’m not about to expose myself to everyone right before a major mission like so. If we make it out of this alive, I am in no position to be used as a weapon or to be targeted again.

----

“What exactly is it that you want here Loki?”

“Well, I could tell you, but I think it would be rather interesting if you found out yourself.”

I circle around his cage.

“Well how about I open this up for you. You haven’t exactly told me what to do in a bit. I’m starting to wonder if you even want me on your side.” I turn away from him. He has an angle, I just need to figure out what it is.

“No. I don’t think you should. Elizabeth, dear, we do have plenty of time to get to know each other better. Now, don’t get me wrong, I do look forward to that time, but my plans come first.” I nod my head and retreat. At this rate, I’m not going to learn anything.

I walk down the hall, and I hear Tony and Steve arguing.

“...finishes breaking into all of Shield’s secure files.”

“I’m sorry. Did you say-”

“Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours, I’ll know every dirty secret Shield has ever tried to hide.”

I continue past the door. Tony really is like Howard. I’m honestly not surprised, but if only he knew the dirty secrets I’ve had to hide. That information would never make it to a computer. I’m from the old days, and there is no way I’m going to trust something anyone can hack into with all of the real dirt hidden beneath my fingernails. But, Fury doesn’t understand that security precaution, so I can only wait to see what Tony finds. This could be very dangerous for him.

----

The crashes from around the craft tell me that Loki’s plan has commenced. Everyone is starting to infiltrate, and it's only a matter of time before this place comes crashing down. I rush around trying to avoid anyone. I hear a loud roar from somewhere in the craft. The beast is awake. I hurry through others trying to get to Loki. There was no way in hell I would let him get away. As I approach, I see Thor trapped in the cage. I glance around to where Loki is and watch him disappear.

The world starts to slow down as I look up at Coulson. The spear all the way through his body. Everything stops for a moment. Before I know it Thor is gone too.

“Loki, what did you do?”

“Come on love, I thought you would enjoy this. Clean up the place, will you?” He walks away with a proud look on his face. I rush over to Coulson.

“I-it’s gonna be okay. I promise.” I feel the tears spill over my cheeks.

“C’mon Liz. I never knew you to be so emotional over death.”

“Well, good. That means you aren’t dying.”

“Just, tell him who you are. Now, leave me here and go do your job.”

“Shut up. I’m not going anywhere. I may hate your annoying ass, but you’re my favorite agent, and I refuse to let you be alone.”

“Tell me about the old days. I never got to hear about what you two were like.” I talked for what seemed like forever. My life before the war. Who Steve was, his friendship with Bucky, our mother. I told him everything I could fit into that time.

Fury soon runs over. I move aside and watch.

“Sorry Boss. The god rabbited.”

“Just stay awake. Eyes on me.”

“No, I'm clocking out here.”

“Not an option.”

“It’s okay, boss. This was never gonna work if they didn't have something to…” Coulson stops. His body breathing its last breath. He was never supposed to be a martyr. I put my head in my blood-stained hands. I never should have brought Loki here. This is my doing.

----

I steal one of the quinjets. I may not be considered an official avenger or whatever, but my friend died. Although Fury lied, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I get out in New York. There, I see the destruction I’ve caused. It is time that I stop sitting on the side-lines. I see my brother looking around aimlessly. I guess now is a good time to stop whining over him.

“Cap, I think you might want to stop looking around for some miracle,” I shoot some of the aliens down and pull out some other weapons, “And start throwing that shield around.” The look he sends me tells me he knows who I am. It is all I need to know as I rush off ensuring that my coms are on. The fight continues until we regroup. Banner rides in on his little motorcycle. Now, this can really begin.

Steve starts giving his orders to everyone in the group. “You, me, and Liz, we stay here on the ground. We keep the fighting here.” Nat and I nod and prepare for the fight. “And Hulk...Smash.”

Never did I think that I would be here fighting alongside my own brother, in our home of New York, but as I have learned over the decades, try not to expect anything,

I see Steve trapped by a few of those aliens, so I rush in and help lighten the load. The look he gives me sends shivers down my spine. He’s not happy. It may have to do with me putting my life in danger but I am a grown woman now.

“You’re welcome,” I shout and run away from the scene and start fighting elsewhere.

I see the portal close and someone falls through the sky. I sit on the building and watch Tony come back. I let out a breath of relief. Normally, I would rejoice with my team, but I know I’m not wanted there. This whole thing was my doing. I drift away from the scene and go back to my apartment in DC. I never was an avenger. I was just the one who brought war upon my people. I was created to protect, but instead, I brought death and destruction.

I slip into the shower and wash away the blood and dirt. Then, I let the tub fill up, and sit myself down into it and let the hot water soak around me. I pick up my phone and send a message to Fury.

Let him know who I am. Nothing more, nothing less.

“This is all I can do for you now Coulson. I am truly sorry, but I will work up to it.” I dunk my head under the water and stay there. Just for a little while.

@jessyballet @wherewecomealive @lilulo-12 @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater

#steve rogers x oc #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x sister #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #Bucky Barnes #avengers #Agent Rogers #agent carter #mcu

24 notes · View notes

hotforharrison · 5 years

Text

Unholy Divinity ch 1

Series Masterlist --> Chapter 2

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader/Tom Holland

Summary: Choosing to spend your eternity in heaven or hell should be easy, right? Yeah, not so much.

Word Count: 1,630

Warnings: Language

A/N: @eeyore101247 had an idea, and I expanded upon it because I obviously needed another series. Please send help.

You were walking down the busy street, enjoying the crisp fall weather. Summer was finally truly over, and it was sweater and scarf weather again with plenty of hot cider and pumpkin spice treats. This was a wonderful time of year, and you intended to fully enjoy it while it was around.

You noticed a young mother trying to wrangle two toddlers near a crosswalk. They looked like a pair of adorable identical twin boys, dressed in matching autumn-themed outfits. You offered the mother a smile as you pressed the push-to-walk button and waited, bouncing on your heels a bit impatiently.

Then, it happened in a split second. One of the toddlers pulled out of his mother’s grasp and started running out into oncoming traffic.

It wasn’t even a point of consideration. You launched yourself into the crosswalk to grab the toddler and get him back to safety before the unimaginable happened.

You glanced over to see a city bus speeding toward you and shoved the toddler out of the way as far as you could back toward the crosswalk, hoping he’d be okay. It was well worth it if he would be. You already knew you weren’t going to be.

You couldn’t bear to look, so you shut your eyes and felt the shock of the impact when the bus threw you forward. Then, there was nothing.

Silence surrounded you when your eyes fluttered open. You found yourself lying on a soft bed in a nondescript bedroom, still wearing what you’d been wearing when the bus had hit you. Surprisingly, you were not in any pain, and your clothes were free from the blood there would have inevitably been from being hit by a bus.

Was this the afterlife? That was the only possibility you could think of that made sense. This wasn’t really what you’d imagined for the afterlife, though. You guessed it was time to explore, since you had nothing better to do.

The door to the bedroom was open, and you padded out of the room into a long hallway. It led to what looked like a comfortable waiting room, mostly decorated in white.

“Hello?” you called out, looking around.

A devastatingly handsome man, a brunet with deep chocolate eyes that seemed to stare into your soul entered the room, and approached you. He had black wings and was dressed in black from head to toe, wearing a button-down, slacks, and long jacket.

Since people don’t have wings, you figured it was pretty safe to assume this was in fact the afterlife, even though it seemed to be an odd one.

“Hello, darling,” he said in a British accent, which added to his appeal.

“Where am I?” you asked in a small voice.

“You’re in purgatory,” he answered. “I’m here to collect you.”

You backed away from him. “What do you mean by ‘collect me?’”

“I’m taking you with me down to hell,” he responded.

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Why am I going to hell? Did I do something wrong?”

“Tom!” another man exclaimed annoyedly, also British.

You looked over at him. He was blond with striking blue eyes, every bit as gorgeous as Tom, and dressed in white. His wings were also white.

You moved toward him. He seemed significantly safer.

“Harrison,” Tom said curtly.

“She’s coming with me,” Harrison told him.

“Looks like we have a bit of a conundrum,” Tom commented.

You moved toward Harrison. “Do I get to choose, because heaven sounds like a better eternity than hell?”

“I’m not taking you for eternal torment,” Tom told you. “I’m taking you for companionship.”

You paused and raised your eyebrows. “So, like, a consort?”

“Exactly like that,” Tom replied.

It was hard to grasp how strange this all was. “Do you have a lot of these consorts?”

“You’d be the first in a long time,” Tom said.

You weren’t sure you wanted to know, but decided to ask anyway. “And what happened to the previous ones?”

“They wanted to go, and I let them. I don’t want to keep a consort against her will. I may be the king of hell, but there’s no fun in forcing myself on a woman and demanding she stay with me. I prefer my partners to beg.” Tom took a step toward you.

You swallowed heavily and tried to ignore the growing wetness between your legs at the thought of Tom’s ‘companionship.’ “I don’t, uh that is…” You turned to look at Harrison “Where do you want to take me?”

“Heaven, love,” he answered. “You earned your way into heaven before today, but you saved the child at the cost of your own life. There’s no more selfless act than that.”

“I’m glad he’s okay,” you said, very relieved that you hadn’t died in vain. “This is probably, or well, definitely, inappropriate, but do I get to sleep with you in heaven like I get to sleep with Tom in hell? I never had the chance to do that while I was alive, and I feel like I missed out.”

A blush appeared across Harrison’s cheeks. “Well, I mean, there’s not technically any rules forbidding it?”

“I can guarantee I’m a hell of a lot more fun in bed than he is,” Tom commented. “You should come with me, pun intended.”

“God, I can’t believe I’m even contemplating going to hell when heaven is an option,” you said, mostly to yourself.

Tom grinned, and Harrison looked even more annoyed.

“Is this decision final, or can I change my mind later?” you asked.

“You can’t return to purgatory once you leave,” Harrison responded.

“But I can stay here until I decide?” you ventured.

“Yes, you can,” Tom confirmed.

You paused, considering. “Is there a time limit on this?”

Harrison frowned. “No, but people generally want to go to heaven if that’s an option, so time spent in purgatory is usually limited.”

You bit your lower lip while you were thinking. “Maybe I’ll stick around here for a while then, see if one of you can convince me to join you.”

“Rest assured that I will do my best to convince you, darling,” Tom responded, gaze full of unbridled lust.

You let him approach you this time, heart pounding in your chest.

“May I?” he asked.

You weren’t sure what he was asking, but you nodded.

He looked deep in your eyes and pulled you into a long and dirty kiss, full of lips, teeth, tongue, and most of all, promise.

“Holy shit,” you muttered when he pulled back, leaving your lips tingling and arousal steadily pulsing between your thighs.

“Unholy, actually,” he responded with a cheeky grin. “I’ll see you again soon, sweetheart.”

You watched him turn and walk out of the room.

“Showoff,” Harrison said and reminded you that he was still in the room.

“Are you leaving, too?” you asked glumly.

“No, I can stay and keep you company,” he offered.

“I’d like that. I’m a little shaken right now,” you admitted.

He sighed. “Tom does that to people. Come on, let’s sit down.”

You followed him to a plush white couch and sat down next to him.

“How did you meet Tom? I mean you seem like you’re pretty...different.”

“He’s a fallen angel. We used to be best mates, but he made some questionable decisions that led to him becoming the king of hell.” He sighed.

You felt bad for Harrison losing his best friend. “Can he be redeemed?”

“That implies he wants to be. He seems pretty content in his new role in the afterlife.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him, pulling him into a hug.

His scent was intoxicating, and you tried to be discreet about sniffing him.

You obviously failed because he chuckled against you. “Get your fill yet?”

You hid your face in his shoulder, embarrassed. “No. You just smell really good. It’s weird. I’m not even sure what the particular scent is. It doesn’t smell like cologne or body wash.”

He shrugged against you. “Maybe it’s just an angel thing.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, then paused. “I’m scared.”

“Of me?” he asked, his expression concerned.

“No, just…” you trailed off, collecting your thoughts. “I want to make the right decision. The decision should be obvious, but it’s...well, not. What’s wrong with me?”

“Tom can be persuasive when he wants something, and it seems that you are something he particularly wants.”

“Why me, though?” you wondered aloud. “I’m nothing special.”

“You’re beautiful and especially pristine. Tom’s fond of that,” he explained.

You peeked up at Harrison, looking into his crystalline eyes. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course, love,” he replied, pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face with his fingers.

“Can you maybe, I mean if you want to, that is…” you trailed off.

“Yeah, I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he said with a smile.

His lips met yours softly and sweetly, his hand moving up against the side of your face, fingertips gently stroking your jaw. It was perfect, exactly how you imagined a first kiss with someone would be.

Your lips tingled and heart raced just the same as it did with Tom. You were once again filled you with a desperate want that you couldn’t ignore, even though the kiss was so different.

Harrison pulled back and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” you told him quietly.

“Gotta convince you to join me in heaven somehow,” he teased.

“What happens now?” you asked.

“That’s completely up to you,” he replied. “Do you want me to stay with you for a while longer?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You lay your head on his shoulder and took comfort in his presence while you thought deeply about the decision you had to make.

tag list: @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @relise-thefury @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh

153 notes · View notes

keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Blow By Blow ch.6 (baon)

Summary: Set the day after ‘With Brotherly LV’. Jeff is having his first day working at the Embassy, Stretch is having a bad anxiety day, Red is having a bad text day, and Edge is just having a day.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Prejudice Against Monsters, Angst, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, LV Issues, Brother issues

Notes: My timeline is getting a little wonky due to a few drabble sets and shorts. So this chapter directly follows With Brotherly LV

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

~~*~~

Read Chapter 6 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Much as Edge enjoying the feel of Stretch sleeping in his arms, breathing soft and even in the same rhythm as the pulse of his soul, the entertainment value eventually waned. Especially in the middle of the day. Gently, and with no few teasing kisses, he nudged Stretch awake and helped him totter to his feet, watching closely as he made his fumbling way upstairs.

Stretch’s clothes had taken the brunt of their earlier play and Edge gathered them from where they’d fallen, grimacing at their state. They’d already been suitable for the dustbin even before, but he would add them to the laundry. Their service in keeping his own clothing free of stains was a worthy sacrifice.

When Stretch came back downstairs, he was dressed in the spoils of raiding Edge’s side of the closet, down to his socks and even a plain t-shirt, something he rarely did. Not that Edge was going to complain; if Stretch was choosing to take his comfort from being wrapped up in his clothes, like a hug made of cotton and thread, that was fine by him. Though Edge did wonder if Stretch had noticed yet that he’d started buying his jeans a little longish and cuffing them, so that when Stretch inevitably borrowed a pair, they would fit. Stretch bypassed the last three steps to hop straight to the landing, and managed to not land on his coccyx. He dusted his hands briskly. “okay, now that that’s out of the way, what’s up for the day?”

“Do you need a moment to mark sexual intercourse off your chore chart?” Edge asked dryly.

“nah, might have to do it again, make sure it got done right.” That cheeky grin would normally have filled Edge with exasperated fondness. Today it was closer to relief.

Edge glanced at the clock. There were a few hours before he needed to do anything about Antwan’s situation. He could get some work done, but Stretch had already spent his morning misery-binging reruns. And he still hadn’t had lunch.

“We can do whatever you like, but lunch should be somewhere on the agenda.”

“well, call me a crazy romantic, but i’m starving. feed me?”

“Gladly, Seymour.” But instead of letting him slouch back on the sofa, Edge took his hand and tugged. “Come on, you can help.”

“what? nooo, that is a terrible idea.” His socked feet slid along the carpet as Edge pulled him determinedly along. “seriously, i’m a shitty cook, babe, you know that!”

“Actually, I know no such thing.” His tactic stalled at the kitchen door and instead Edge picked Stretch up, ignoring his squawking and carrying him in. “You’re a decent baker when you try. You aren’t bad at cooking, you just don’t like it, which translates into poor effort.”

“see there!” Came from about the middle of Edge’s back. “poor effort!”

“But you’ll put in effort today, I’m sure. Since I’m injured and need your help.”

Silence, then sullenly. “dirty pool, babe.” Stretch sighed and dangled for a long moment over Edge’s shoulder before grudgingly, “okay, okay. i’ll help.”

Edge set him on his feet and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his cheekbone. “Thank you.”

“yeah, yeah. what do you want?”

What he wanted was Stretch in the same room with him, until he could be sure his dark mood wasn’t going to pull the shutters again. What he said was, “Get a loaf of the sourdough bread from the pantry. It’s marked.”

While Stretch did that, Edge rummaged in the refrigerator, “I know that mustard isn’t your preferred condiment, but I find it gives this sandwich a much-needed tang.”

“tangy, yeah, no wonder your brother likes it. got a hell of a tang, doesn’t he.”

Edge hummed in agreement, unwrapped the cheese he’d chosen. Gruyere and sharp cheddar, and pulled out the grater. “I suppose that’s a way to put it. What were you two talking about earlier?”

It would be a refreshing change to have even one person in his life that responded well to the direct approach. But it wouldn’t be happening today. Stretch only plunked the bread on the counter and shrugged. “nothing.”

“Nothing. Hm.” Edge eyed the pile of shredded cheese measuringly. A little more. “The two of you stood around in silence, then. It must’ve been very boring.”

“nah, your bro is never short on entertainment. “ He stole a pinch of the shredded cheese, dancing back before Edge could swat him and munching it happily. He licked his fingers and said, more seriously, “we’re okay, babe, you don’t need to worry.”

“No?”

“nope. we got an understanding, me and Red.”

Edge paused as he sliced the bread. “That sounds utterly horrifying.”

“probably is. what are we making, anyway?”

“Grilled cheese.” Eight slices of bread used most of the loaf. That was fine, he’d already planned to make more on Saturday.

“fancy.”

“Good doesn’t need to be fancy, and you like grilled cheese.”

“i like your grilled cheese.” Stretch dragged one of the stools from the small breakfast bar over and sat, chin propped up on one hand. “why do you shred the cheese?”

“I find it melts more evenly.” Edge began spreading mayonnaise on the bread slices. “Grilled cheese may not be considered fancy, but there’s no reason to not do it right.”

Stretch only nodded, watching intently as he carefully mounded the cheese on the bread, adding a slice of onion and smear of mustard. With only a little nudging, Stretch did the same and if shreds of cheese were trailing out of his imperfectly balanced sandwiches, Edge ignored it.

He set a pan to heat on the stove and waggled a finger at Stretch in a silent ‘come hither’. It was crowded with both of them at the stove, all elbows fighting for space and Stretch ignoring the toasting sandwiches in favor of trying to get a hand under Edge’s untucked shirt. In the end, they had four imperfect toasted cheese sandwiches, unevenly browned and with melted cheese clinging in long strings to fingers and mouths whenever they took a bite.

Edge thought they might well be the best sandwiches he’d ever eaten, and his soul was calm.

Afterward, they curled up on the sofa together to watch new episodes of The Great British Baking Show, and it never failed to amuse Edge how invested Stretch was for someone who claimed to be such a terrible cook.

“it’s a genoise sponge,” Stretch huffed. He was mostly lying across Edge’s lap, allowing him to trace the suture lines on his skull with a gentle finger. “he already over-mixed it and now he keeps opening the oven!”

“It’s going to fall,” Edge agreed. His phone lit up with a text message from Alphys, confirming that she could see them in the morning. He closed it discreetly and listened to Stretch rant as they waited to see if the poor sponge cake would be worth elimination. Honesty was important, yes, but he thought it could wait a few hours yet.

It was late afternoon and at the end of the available episodes when Edge finally told Stretch, “I need to go over your brother’s for a moment, I won’t be long.”

That dragged his attention from the Netflix menu. “my brother? what for?”

“Penance,” Edge said dryly. “I won’t be long…unless you want to come along?”

“nah,” Stretch rolled off him with a groan and settled on one of the sofa cushions, a distant second when it came to places to lay his head. “i’ve been seeing him every day since andy moved in and if i tag along, it won’t be a moment.”

That was true. Edge took a moment to straighten his shirt, adjusting it with the sleeves rolled up, then dropped a kiss on Stretch’s skull before stepping into his shoes.

It wasn’t a far walk and the weather was nice enough to take in the fresh air. Since he’d skipped his run that morning, he could settle for this. The sidewalks were mostly empty, only a few children still playing before getting called in for dinner, and when Edge arrived he was pleased to see the delivery he’d requested was right on time.

Blue answered the door on the first knock, beaming up at him, “Edge, hello! Did you come over for some more healing?”

“No,” he stepped inside as Blue held open the door. “Actually I was hoping to speak to you. It’s about your brother.”

That made Blue perk up like a prairie dog out of its burrow, as he’d known it would. He’d been trying to think of a plan on how to get Blue out of the house most of the afternoon, and this one had only occurred to him on his walk over. It would work, but there would be consequences, he knew.

“What’s wrong?” Blue could always be counted on his brisk efficiency when it came to Stretch. “Nothing is wrong, exactly,” Edge said, “and he hasn’t said anything specific. But I think your brother has been missing you lately.” The stars that made up Blue’s eye lights widened into a brilliant gleam, “He has?” “Yes,” Edge said gravely. Silently, he sent up a prayer to whomever might listen to LV-scarred Monsters that his husband would forgive him for chucking him under the proverbial bus that was his brother’s concern. Blue frowned, considering, “But he’s been over every day!” “Ah, but Jeff is here. I think maybe he misses it being just the two of you. Would you mind stopping over?” Edge coaxed. “Just for a bit? I need to see Jeff for a few minutes, it should give you a little time to talk.” Blue was already stripping off his apron. Edge only watched him go, already guiltily thinking up ways to make it up to Stretch. Hopefully before his husband started contemplating the death part of till death do us part. But he couldn’t deny himself a tiny shred of smugness. Call him a bad liar.

The door was barely closed when one opened upstairs and Jeff came out, calling down, “Did you want to get started on dinner...oh! Hi, Edge.”

“Hello,” Edge said evenly. “Blue stepped out for a moment. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to give you this.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a key ring.

If he had to guess, Edge would think that a year ago, Jeff wouldn’t have squealed in delight in front of him, dashing down the stairs to reach for the keys.

Edge definitely wouldn’t have deliberately held them higher, out of his reach. It made Jeff laugh and give him a little shove, “C’mon, you shit, give!”

“I’m sorry, I must be having trouble with Human customs,” Edge told him blandly, holding them higher as Jeff made to jump for them. “That didn’t sound at all like thank you, Edge. I appreciate all your hard work, Edge. Please let me have the keys to my new car, Edge, I will forever be grateful.”

That earned him a somewhat tremulous laugh. “Thank you, Edge.” Jeff’s smile was nearly as bright as Blue’s eye lights. “I mean it. Thank you, for everything. For the job, getting me into New New Home—

And that was enough of that. “We’ll see if you’re thanking me after the first public relations crisis. Now, come look at your car.”

He followed Jeff outside to the sedan parked in the driveway. It was as green as grass, with top of the line safety features, and Edge was about to remind him of his promise about seat belts when his phone buzzed. what in the name of fuck did you tell my brother, you asshole! you just bitched at me and now you’re pulling this??? The variety of angry emoticons that followed made him wince and Edge hastily texted back. That you missed him so Antwan would have a chance to speak to Jeff in private so they can work out whatever their problems are. There was a long pause and then, you’re lucky. next time let me in on the schemes to dupe my bro.

His sigh of relief was heartfelt. Sofa banishment averted, this time. While Jeff was busy examining his car, Edge took a second to send a text to Antwan that the coast was temporarily clear.

Now it was up to him.

~~*~~

Marrow hitting the snow, steaming wet crimson, and screaming, endless screaming. He can’t see, can’t find his brother, and there is so much screaming—

Edge woke with a gasp, his soul hot and throbbing, lying on sheets soaked with his own sweat as he struggled to breathe in the cooler air.

“edge?”

He jerked at the sound of his name, barely registering the hushed concern. Stretch was on the far side of the bed, making no attempt to touch and there was the faint crackle of his own magic in reach, ready for a hasty shortcut.

That was good, yes, allowed him to relax a little. That was the promise he’d gotten from Stretch the night before. They could sleep together if Stretch promised him he’d go if he thought…if he were afraid…if it seemed like a bad episode.

"Talk to me," Edge said. His voice was in ragged threads and he was still concentrating on taking deep breaths, but he desperately wanted to hear Stretch. "Tell me something unusual. Something hardly anyone knows." Stretch’s eye lights flickered as he blinked. “um. okay…did you know that there are five recognized dwarf planets in our solar system?”

Perfect. “I did not know that.”

“yeah, i mean, personally i think that’s some bullshit and that pluto deserves to be up with the big boys again, but no one’s pounding down the door for my opinion. anyway, so right now there are five, but there’s like, a hundred or so proposed ones and—“

Edge closed his sockets and listened to the winding ramble of his husband’s voice extolling the various attributes of heavenly bodies and whether they had earned a planetary legacy. The agitated throb of his soul slowly eased, gentling to a more normal pulse. Stretch’s voice only paused once, a startled hitch when Edge settled a careful hand on his ankle, the only place he could reach.

Stretch followed that gentle tug across the bed, settling against Edge’s side without a care for the damp sheets, tugging the blankets over them. Talking about hydrostatic equilibrium and orbital eccentricity and Edge listened to that well-loved voice speaking unknown, beautiful-sounding words until the first light of dawn crept into the window, letting them chase away the night.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

29 notes · View notes

shayanyaan · 4 years

Text

Two Eleven Super

“London is very human-scale,” I am quick to pitch for one of my favorite cities in the world.

Her eyes widen and her face lights up. She nods her head vigorously and points her finger at me, in complete agreement. This is the moment in a conversation when one person articulates perfectly what the other person was thinking but couldn’t quite put into words. B and I have been explaining to each other how both of us are more comfortable living in cities where we can walk or take public transport.

“Oh gosh London, yes! Seeing a London trip on my schedule always fills me with immense warmth. Imagine being able to walk around a city slowly absorbing all that it has to offer, the sights, the sounds, the traditions.”

They say never meet your celebrity heroes because you’ll inevitably find something disappointing. I think the same applies to some of the great cities of the world. But both of us conclude hands down that London does not fall in this category.

“Actually London is not even a celebrity. London is a reliable old friend. A friend that has not lost their sense of culture and tradition. The monuments, the churches ...”

“.....and the bridges across the Thames - each one steeped in history.” We are finishing each other's sentences now. “The railway stations. The tube - a subterranean metropolis beneath a metropolis. The Mind the Gap jokes.”

“And what about the black cabs and then … and then the red double decker buses. Oh the red buses - what an icon! They say tourists take the tube but real Londoners take the bus.”

“Aha! You’re probably right. Flocks of pigeons on Trafalgar square, the shops on Oxford Street.”

“And you can’t forget the ever present murky skies, steady rain, rippled puddles, umbrella bearing pedestrians.”

“Of course you just had to mention the Great British weather!” A disapproving look is thrown. The entire body of humor surrounding the British weather is a road we agree not to go down.

---

I continue to quiz B on some of the other cities that she thought would fit the human-scale bill. New York inevitably comes up as a place she has not only travelled to but lived in. I am glad she brought up New York. Now New York is not an old friend. New York is a person you know you shouldn’t fall for, but you do anyway. There is something about the pace and the madness that sets New York apart from the rest of the US. Something about the people, coming from all corners of the world. To make a living, or even half a living. American dream and all that.

In New York you are acutely aware of the class divide that exists in society. New York is dirty. The subway is full of creaking old trains. New York has JFK and LaGuardia both of which are dismal at best and soul destroying at worst. Oh and Penn Station. Never has there been a more classic case of the mighty having fallen. A complete and utter hell hole out of some post apocalyptic world.

But somehow it all works. Barely. And that is where New York absolutely has you. As you walk around the city, you peel back the layers and beneath all the flaws and scars, you will find a genuinely captivating person. A person that knows how to push your buttons and make you forget the pandemonium, if only for a split second. Through the dollar pizzas on the street corners. Through the sheer magic of Central Park and the museums. Through the Manhattan skyline; hands down the best skyline in the world. Standing next to the Hudson, under the Brooklyn Bridge, with Lady Liberty keeping a quiet watch from a distance, you will be powerless as New York sucks you in. One glittering high rise at a time. Dreamy eyed, you cannot help but stare in wonderment. Hundreds of floors, thousands of windows. What goes on inside? And the lights! Yes so many lights. What could be a better tribute to Tesla, Faraday and the like?

“In general, the east coast of the United States is on a much more human-scale. Relatively small states with trains taking you across borders within a couple of hours at the most.”

“Going west of maybe Illinois, they started drawing great big rectangles for states.”

“And then there’s Texas. Vast open skies in an almost revolting shade of blue. Just as vast are the expanses of highway, further than the eye could see, or care to see. Wide, long and monotonous. Not a single human-scale building in sight”

“And who the hell builds highways passing through the center of a city!? Makes going to get some milk feel like a great expedition to the other side of the world.”

More chuckles.

Then a brief silence, during which I am suddenly reminded of where I am - in a lounge on the upper deck of an A380. A massive ship hurtling through the ether, pushing the speed of sound. A big TV screen near where I am standing silently glares back at me indicating that -50 degrees is but a mere 10 meters from where I am standing. Yet here we are, B and I, chatting like two friends catching up over coffee.

But of course, we are not friends. Not even acquaintances. She is on the Emirates cabin crew. And I am just a passenger.

---

Back at my seat, halfway through an episode of Chernobyl, I pause to stare out of the window. Beyond the wing, which seems to stretch out to eternity, a smudge of orange is forcing its way through the royal blue of the sky. I can hear the muffled yet reassuring boom from the four Rolls Royce engines. It is then that I realize that there is nothing about the A380 that is human-scale. There is nothing about the skies which she inhabits that is human-scale. I've travelled on the beloved Super dozens of times. Yet I continue to be amazed at the size and scale with which she operates. Devouring continents and swallowing oceans. Bringing the other side of the world just a little closer to home.

A friend of mine often describes journeys on the A380 as the closest we can get to the long sea voyages on gigantic ocean liners in the 1930s. And he is right. Two decks with so much space to stretch out. Bars, lounges, showers - no expense spared in ensuring luxury. Imagine peering out of the window from your first class cabin on the Queen Mary and seeing nothing but vast open sea. Right now I am doing exactly the same. Only from 36000 feet above the Earth, and all I can see is the vast open sky. Far below, Moscow and St Petersburg slip behind us. Scandinavia and the Atlantic Ocean lie ahead. As we burn more fuel, over North America, we will eventually settle in the exclusive airspace of flight level 410.

The Boeing 747 is a work of art. Sheer poetry. The Airbus A380 however, is a lesson in outsmarting the laws of Physics. It is an absolute whale of a plane that looks like it should never leave the surface of the Earth in the first place. But somehow it does, through the most languid and sluggish of take offs. Once up at cruising altitude though, it is steady ship all the way to your destination. The ability to punch through the sky without even the faintest of trembles is simply unmatched. I continue to stare wistfully out of the window, thinking about how much I’ll miss the A380 when she’s gone. She’s right up there with the Concorde in that nothing like this will ever be built in my lifetime.

---

Resting my head on one of the fluffiest pillows ever to have taken flight, I gaze at the roof of the cabin - tiny twinkling stars gently coaxing me to drift off into a deep sleep. And frankly, it is not hard to. The bed is completely flat and the mattress is more comfortable than the one I have at home. The blanket is ever so soft. The fake gold and wood around the windows is not something I’d furnish my home with, yet up here in the sky, it somehow adds to the coziness. From my own little cocoon, I can see neither the aisle nor other TV screens. Not a single window shade in the cabin is raised. I don’t remember the last time I fell asleep on a plane without an eye mask. All I can hear are the engines whirling away, and the hushed sound of the air beating against the fuselage - no more than a relaxing white noise.

In the moments between lying down and falling asleep, I am thinking about the countless journeys I’ve made with Emirates over the last two decades. Leaving home as often as I’ve had to, I’ve come to really treasure the sense of familiarity that an Emirates flight brings to me. I’ve never stopped to think about it before but there is a certain warmth and tenderness you feel when you have an old faithful travel companion to share your journeys with. And Emirates has been that companion for me, helping me wipe away the homesickness. Slowly at first, then all at once. The boarding music that says “Hello Tomorrow”. The inflight announcements that say “Tayaran Al Emarat”. The reassuring voice of Sir Tim Clark answering questions on the default podcast channel. The wavy curves on the cabin wallpaper. The cabin crew with their brown blazers and their red hats. When choosing an airline to fly, it is hard to look past this comfort of familiarity resulting from a bond first formed unwittingly, many years ago. And strengthened over numerous journeys from one side of the planet to the other, including this one. Before I can process any more thoughts, I slip into a happy and peaceful sleep. We are probably somewhere over the North Atlantic. But in this moment, it hardly matters.

---

Six hours have passed. B is on hand to wake me for dinner. It seems the crew has saved the best meal till the very end. Three courses this evening, starting with a chick-pea salad that doesn’t make you hate your life with its dreariness. I politely refuse the alcohol but ask for a piece of garlic bread on the side. Which is brought to me, warm, from a basket lined with cloth. The main course is served with the Jeera rice cooked in just the right amount of butter. The ratio of jeera to rice - perfect. The Rajma has the power to rival any dhaba in North India and along with it is a second curry made with melt-in-your-mouth soft paneer. Actual phulkas to go on the side, instead of pita.

And if you're going to go full North Indian with your meal, you need some achaar. Which obviously is on my tray as well. Emirates just knows how to serve Indian food. If I had any doubts about this, they are well and truly shattered when B brings the dessert. Four of the finest pieces of Rasgulla. Sometimes you have a meal so sublime that you are moved to shedding a tear or two. This AVML has been one such.

I call B over one last time to thank her for everything. She passes me a brownie, one very similar to those I’d been wolfing down earlier while talking to her in the lounge. This of course, brings the widest of smiles to my face. Not because I like brownies. But most certainly because of the fact that she had noticed. And remembered. The crew has been absolutely stellar on this flight.

---

Business class. A crew that knows how to pronounce your ridiculously long last name. A crew that has time to engage in conversations with you. Meals served on crisp white table cloths. Meals that come in courses. Flat beds to stretch your legs. Flat beds to rest your weary soul. On a grueling ultra long haul flight across 10 time zones, almost anything that seeks to make you feel more earthly is highly appreciated.

This has been Emirates Two Eleven Super - Dubai to Houston in just under seventeen hours, albeit the best seventeen hours of my life.

1 note · View note