Writing, creativity, plenty of issues. Likes Tony Stark a lot. Commonly nicknamed either Eir or Lys. You can find my fics on Ao3 as well.
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Whumptober Day 28 - Beaten
Whumptober day 28 - Beaten
This @whumptober2019 fill is a High School AU and is also available on Ao3. No pairings, but it’s sort of pre-Avengers as family :) There is some cursing in this.
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Tony gritted his teeth as another foot hit his legs, the same time another one hit his back. By now, he’d curled up to protect his chest and head, but they didn’t show any sign of stopping.
He would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry, though. He might be bruised, and bloody, and dirty, but they would not break him.
"Yeah, not so high and mighty anymore, are you, Stark?"
The best thing to do would be to stay silent, to just let them get it out so they’d feel like they won and would walk away. But if there was anything Tony was terrible at, it was keeping his mouth shut when he should.
So he looked up at Stone, at Hammer, at Killian, at Vanko, at Beck, and sneered. “Fuck you.”
Just in time, he managed to protect his face from the kick that followed. They got even more vicious, and he wondered if his ribs would be broken, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when he’d seen the way it had knocked all of them off the high horses they felt they were on, the way it made them feel like they were the weak ones.
Which they were, honestly. Five against one, there was no way Tony could fight back and win and they had known it. Which was why, despite most of them usually hanging out with others, they’d gone for this together.
Because they all hated Tony.
Being smart, and rich, and good-looking, had not made him all that popular overall. There were enough people who wanted to be his ‘friends’ as long as they could get something out of it, and there were times where he was tempted. But if there was anything he’d learned from his Aunt Peggy, aside from how to defend himself, it was not to compromise himself for others, not when they would never return the favor.
It had left him fairly alone, which was an unfortunately familiar feeling, but at least he still felt like he could respect himself.
Unfortunately, that also left him vulnerable. And when the people who disliked him didn’t even have the courtesy of dealing with him individually, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do but try to make sure they wouldn’t do any lasting damage.
With the way they were carrying on, he was starting to worry.
“Hey! What’s going on here!?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and the hitting stopped.
Tentatively, Tony looked over to where the voice had come from, only to see Steve Rogers. And not just him, either - he had his entire group of friends with him, and none of them looked very happy.
“Mind your own business,” Hammer told them.
“Just teaching the Stark kid a little lesson,” Stone elaborated a little. Considering Tony was well-known and unpopular, he probably thought they’d leave them be after that. And Tony had to admit, for a moment he was afraid they would do exactly that.
But apparently, their rumored intolerance of bullying even extended to Tony himself, because Rogers only stepped closer, the others right with him. “Leave him alone.”
“Why the hell do you care?” Beck snapped. “Not like anyone gives a shit about him.”
“Last chance, assholes.” Rogers tended to be nicer about things - until he threw himself straight into a fight. Barnes, his best friend, had no such compunctions. “Back off or get your asses beat.”
They did not back off, and all Tony could do was watch in astonishment as Rogers, Barnes and the others completely swept the floor with the five of them. For him.
Huh. They might have hurt some ribs after all. His chest was feeling warm in a way it usually didn’t.
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bonusholebo1 liked this · 5 years ago
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More Posts from Eirlyssa
After winning bidding on my @marveltrumpshate auction, @weethreequarter asked to be surprised by the story I picked and the moodboard I made. This left me with the difficult task of picking just one of her amazing stories. Fortunately, in the end I did manage to make a decision!
So, without further ado, the moodboard end result:
The story I ended up choosing was Return to Neverland. It may seem like one of the 'easier' choices, due to the fact that it's WinterIron, but that is not why I ended up choosing it.
It deals beautifully with some fairly intense subjects, not the least of which is Bucky’s depression. I strongly admire the way Ree managed to handle the overwhelming feelings that Bucky deals with, as well as the way it makes you completely shut yourself away from others.
The horses are a wonderful addition that matters to the story, and that helps bring all of them together. Helping the horse that he found made it so Bucky himself started to get a little better as well, enough to accept help, and that message resonates with me. Sometimes you feel like you’re not worth it, but the people (and animals) that care for you are. And sometimes, that’s what you need to take that first step on a long journey towards getting better.
I have been cheering for Bucky, as well as for the others, the entire story so far, and I am eagerly looking forward to the final chapters. Thank you, Ree, for this incredibly touching story. I hope you love my creations as much as I love yours!!
(Because yes, I loved the story so much, I made a second moodboard for the secondary pairing in this story!)
Whumptober day 24 - Secret Injury; 25 - Humiliation; 26 - Abandoned
Another fill for @whumptober2019, and another one that’s pre-WinterIron and an amalgamation of multiple prompts. It’s also available on Ao3.
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"Never again," Clint groaned.
From around the Quinjet there were sounds of agreement, though none of them had the energy to do more than that.
Today's battle had been simply awful, and none of them had gotten out of it without at least a few bruises, if not worse. Hours upon hours of fighting meant they were also completely exhausted.
Most of them had collapsed where they'd been standing when the fight finally ended. Bucky and Natasha had held on by a single stubborn thread, but Tony had carried all of the others to the Quinjet in the armor, trying to get them as comfortable as possible before getting behind the controls and starting to fly them back somewhere they would have medical attention they could trust.
Once he had the jet in the air and set to fly under JARVIS' control for a while, Tony stared out of the window for a little while. Then, shutting his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, he got up again.
The Quinjet might not have a large amount of medical supplies, but it did have some emergency things stocked. "J, keep track and order new supplies." He knew he didn't have the energy at the moment to make note of whatever he was using, let alone remember it to replace it later. Fortunately, that was why he had JARVIS.
Sam was the first he saw to, if only because the gash on his arm still hadn’t stopped bleeding. He honestly didn’t imagine it would without stitches, but it was at least important to staunch the flow a little. So, after rinsing it out quickly to make sure there would be as little dirt in there as possible, he smeared some disinfectant cream over there and wrapped it up. The doctors would do better later, but for now it was important to keep him from bleeding too much.
“Any other big wounds?” he asked, managing to sound far less tired than he felt.
“Nothing open,” Sam admitted. “Bruises, wrist might be sprained or broken.”
Grabbing one of the multitudes of cold packs was quickly done, and after putting it down on Sam’s wrist and seeing him relax, Tony moved on to Steve. His supersoldier healing was already at work repairing the damage, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot of it.
It took some bandages and cold packs, but soon Steve relaxed at least some. Bucky had the same deal, though he did admit his leg might be broken as well. Since he honestly didn’t know enough to be sure of how to set a leg so it’d heal right, Tony just made a mental note to have it checked out by a doctor as soon as possible.
Slowly but surely, he worked his way through all of them. Most of his work involved applying cold packs to wherever things hurt the most and hoping it’d help with the pain at least a little, since he didn’t want to play with medicine when the doctors might need to give some of them something and it could possibly interact. He did at least notice some of their strain easing a little, so he had to be doing something right.
Finally, Bruce only needed a blanket - the Hulk had taken damage, but that didn’t transfer to Bruce. But he was even more exhausted than usual, not even responding when Tony gently eased him up a little to drink a meal replacement shake. It was cautious work when he wasn’t entirely conscious, and Tony almost wanted to skip it, but he knew the Hulk spent enough energy that leaving Bruce to just sleep it off might mean he’d end up in the medical wing anyway due to a dangerously low blood sugar level. At least this way, he wasn’t in immediate danger, though it was likely he could still use an infusion for the first few hours.
“Dude… How?” Clint groaned as he finally stepped away from Bruce, empty packet in his hand.
“Regular insomniac,” Tony told him with a fair attempt at a grin.
“And a suit that protects you extremely well,” Sam noted, managing to sound both complementary and a little jealous.
“Regular genius insomniac,” he allowed. He couldn’t say he was too surprised when both Clint and Sam graced him with a look only slightly better than if they’d stuck out their tongues. His huff was close enough to laughter that it made both of them glare playfully. “You’re just jealous.”
“Very,” Sam deadpanned, but since Clint hissed out a “Yesssssssss” at the same time, he didn’t take it to heart.
“I mean, our protective suits are great, but it’s gotta help when you’ve got your mechanical suit to do a lot of the fighting.”
Tony just grinned at them. He was well-aware of how easy it was to assume the suit did most of the work, especially since he usually managed to look pretty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even after a long fight. It wasn’t always ideal, but he preferred it over having them worry about him.
Once they finally landed, he took them to medical one by one. Bruce, as expected, got an IV line and a bed to rest. He didn’t even wake up when Tony picked him up, so he was glad there were experts to look after Bruce now.
Sam got stitches for the gash in his arm and had, unfortunately, broken his wrist. Once that was taken care of, the doctors ended up setting a couple of bones for both Bucky and Steve, though their healing would have to take care of the rest. Little by little, Tony watched as his teammates were taken care of, the doctors busily working around all of them as they switched tasks smoothly.
Perhaps, for situations like these, he should see if there was any more trustworthy personnel that could work on the Avengers? They were enough after regular missions, but now even the less human members of their team needed extensive treatment.
Still, he was sure they were in good hands.
Abandoning them to the care of the doctors, Tony headed off to his workshop. Once the door closed behind him, JARVIS immediately spoke up. “Sir…”
“I know.”
Now that he didn’t have the others to worry about worrying, he didn’t bother putting in effort to keep the strain from his voice. Instead, he stumbled over to the corner he’d designed for when taking the armor off on his own was either too much or simply impossible.
“I would advise you to see a doctor, Sir,” JARVIS informed him as he went to work gently removing the armor.
“They’re busy with the others,” Tony dismissed him. “Not to mention that, even if my ribs are bruised or broken, there’s not a lot to do except take pain medication and cooling it.”
“They would be able to tell if anything was displaced, however. Not to mention there appear to be some other injuries as well that should be checked out, including but not limited to a possible fracture in your left arm and a sprained or broken right ankle.” JARVIS was matter-of-fact about it, and Tony knew he was right. He didn’t think anything was too bad, but without a scan, there was simply no way of being certain.
Still, he shook his head. “I’ll just take it easy for now. They’ve got the others to worry about. I’ll go see them later.”
It was obvious JARVIS disapproved, but rather than push it, he simply guided DUM-E to support Tony for a quick toilet visit before moving over to the couch. Then, he encouraged the ‘bot to grab some cold packs for the injured areas, as well as some bottled water. Tony was grateful for it, resolving to do something nice for his creations when he was feeling better.
One advantage of the suit was certainly that it tended to keep his bones in place, meaning he wasn’t too worried about anything starting to heal wrong. Especially in the few hours it would take for the doctors to take the best care of the others.
He dozed off a few times, but only slightly. The pain made it impossible to truly relax, and every breath hurt just enough to keep him awake despite his exhaustion.
“Sir, the doctors are done with taking care of the others,” JARVIS alerted him.
As he started to get up, he found that he simply… couldn’t. The exhaustion and pain made it so he could hardly even move his mostly uninjured right arm, let alone the rest of his body. So rather than getting up like he knew he should, he just remained where he was.
“Sir?”
He wasn’t too sure what to say. ‘I can’t move’ was incredibly embarrassing, but he’d also sort of promised to go see the doctors once they were free. “I… think my body might be a bit done with today?” he settled for, grimacing a little at how silly that sounded. “I’m trying, but…”
Before he could get too worried, or doze off again - it was honestly a toss-up at the moment - JARVIS announced he had a visitor. “Sergeant Barnes is at the workshop door, Sir.”
Frowning in confusion, Tony couldn’t help but let out a surprised “why?”.
“From what I can gather, he appeared concerned for you upon noticing you weren’t in the medical wing with everyone else. He then asked me if you were on your floor or in the workshop, and I informed him the latter was the case.”
Part of Tony was embarrassed to be seen like this, but another part of him was honestly warmed that Bucky had actually worried about him. It was that part that won out, nodding to JARVIS for permission to let the supersoldier in.
Of course, he regretted it almost immediately when Bucky frowned with concern, sharp eyes noting the multitude of cold packs that DUM-E had kept regularly taking off and reapplying.
“How hurt are you?” was the first question he asked, moving straight past worrying and into caring.
“I was going to see the doctors after they were done with all of you,” Tony justified himself.
At that, Bucky’s eyes softened just a little. “Not blaming you - your body, your choice. Not gonna pretend I like it, but you do what you think is best. Just worried about you.” He stepped closer, giving DUM-E a pat on his claw as the ‘bot came to say hello. “Docs are done with us though - nothing left to do but wait for everything to heal now. Steve and Thor are keeping an eye on the others for now, since we’re mostly healed already.”
His face felt like it was burning up, though he wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or embarrassment. “I… can’t move,” he admitted, and yeah, it was humiliation.
Despite the way worry sharpened his eyes, Bucky remained gentle and respectful. “Do you… I mean, are you okay with me helping you over there? Or is there anything else I can do?”
And yes, he was incredibly embarrassed. Ever since he’d been young, he’d been taught that needing help was weak, and that he should be able to do things on his own no matter what. But even though there was nothing he could do at the moment, even though his body didn’t even listen to him, Bucky did. Rather than let his concern take over, he asked Tony what he wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind that Bucky would respect his decision even if he decided to just keep sitting there.
It was that respect that enabled him to overcome his embarrassment enough to nod just a little. “I… If you could? Support me?”
He didn’t think he’d be able to handle Bucky carrying him, no matter how much that might be the wiser option for his ribs. And rather than argue, Bucky just nodded, gently helping him off the couch and supporting him as much as possible while still allowing him to stand on his own.
If he had to pinpoint it, that was the moment that started to transform his basic attraction into more.
Whumptober day 31 - Embrace
My final fill for @whumptober2019! A very whumpy WinterIron ficlet that is also available on Ao3. Thank you all so much for following me this month, and I hope you’ve enjoyed it!!
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He wasn’t going to last much longer.
Every single part of him was hurting. He had long since passed being exhausted. Some of his wounds had become infected, and he was pretty sure some of his bones had been broken and were healing wrong. Not to mention the fact that the cough he’d developed was worrying him. Ever since Afghanistan, his lungs had already been compromised, and he wouldn’t be surprised to find out they’d gotten infected as well.
If the others didn’t find him soon, he was afraid it might end up being too late. And what was worse, they’d started to make him doubt.
Usually, people would kidnap him for ransom or to make him build them something. It was what he’d been used to since far too young, and he knew how to deal with either of those situations.
These people hadn’t, though. As far as he knew, there had been no demands - to Pepper, to Rhodey, to Bucky, or to the other Avengers. And they certainly hadn’t let him anywhere near anything he could use to get himself out. Instead, the only thing they seemed to want was to make him suffer as much as possible.
Oddly enough, the physical torture wasn’t even the worst. It hurt, and it might be what ended up killing him, but mentally, he could deal with it. But they’d kept him awake for days with lights, with noise, and despite being used to some sleep deprivation, this had quickly surpassed his ability to handle it. And then there was the mental torture - the curses, he was familiar with. Even the way they told him, over and over again, that everything was his fault, that he was a terrible person and that his weapons had killed thousands, that he would burn in hell for all eternity, was familiar.
It was the certainty with which they told him that no one was coming for him that threatened to break him, though. The way they yelled that no one cared about him, because how could they, and they would be glad to be rid of him. The way they laughed and told him he was pathetic, thinking people could actually love someone like him.
Somehow, it felt as though they’d dug up his deepest, darkest fears and threw them straight into his face. It was everything he’d ever worried about, all of the things he had thought but never said out loud.
He’d managed, so far, to pretend it didn’t bother him that much. Three days in, he’d gone silent, stoically gritting his teeth and mentally chanting ‘Stark men are made of iron’ over and over and over again. Outwardly, they might be able to see that he was suffering, but he could still pretend that they hadn’t broken him.
Maybe they hadn’t, yet. Maybe this was just bending, farther than he’d ever thought he could. As long as he didn’t let them see him break, maybe… Maybe he hadn’t, yet.
Through it all, he’d tried to remind himself that they’d come. He might be all of the bad things they said and more, but… They knew about that. Rhodey had known him since he’d been a teenager, had been there through so many highs and lows that he probably knew more about Tony than he knew about himself. Bucky had gotten to know things about him that he’d never told anyone else and still stuck with him, still told him he loved him. Pepper, the other Avengers...
They all knew him, good sides and bad, and they still cared. There was no way they’d faked that, no way they would pretend to like him just for his money or his tech.
(Except he’d thought Obie cared as well, hadn’t he?)
((But Rhodey and Pepper both would’ve been set for life if he’d ended up dying in Afghanistan. Yet they’d never stopped looking for him, never stopped setting up search missions to try to find him.))
Lack of sleep wasn’t helping when it came to trying to have faith. His mind oscillated wildly between the hope that the others cared, that they were looking for him, and the despair of knowing he wasn’t worth it and they shouldn’t come for him, wouldn’t come for him.
He coughed again, grimacing at the way it made agony course through him. There were a few trickles of blood as some of his wounds opened again due to the movement.
Gritting his teeth, Tony reminded himself to just hang on.
They were looking for him. They had to be. They were his friends, his family. They weren’t fake, not like Obie had been. He might not be worth it, might deserve to die right here, suffering until his last breath. But that wasn’t the kind of people they were. They were good, and honest. They were heroes. And he knew he was not a good person, but somehow they must have found something in him that was decent enough for him to deserve having them care about him.
So all he had to do was last.
Stark men are made of iron. Hang on. They are coming.
He repeated it to himself over and over and over, ignoring the pain as they hit him, cut him, kicked him.
He repeated it to himself over and over and over, drowning out their voices as they yelled about how terrible he was, how pathetic, how worthless.
He repeated it to himself over and over and over, clutching to it desperately as they pushed him down into a tub of salt water that made him want to scream.
Stark men are made of iron. Hang on. They are coming.
He was still holding onto it when the gunfire started, when there were yells and screams and roars. And he had to crush the little spark of hope, because if it wasn’t them, that might just end up breaking him.
Instead he held on, breathing as evenly as possible and listening carefully for hints of what was going on. And if, in his mind, a litany of please please please had started, well… No one else could hear that, or judge him for his weakness.
And then the door was slammed open, bouncing off the wall and off the hinges.
Bucky was dressed in full gear, one hand holding a gun and the other a knife. The look on his face was absolutely murderous, and even the black of his gear couldn’t hide the blood.
The moment his eyes met Tony’s, his entire face softened in a way that was so intimately familiar that Tony’s breath caught for a moment. “Tony…” Of course, then he looked at the rest of Tony, and his face looked like it could have been carved from stone. Tony knew him well enough to know that, right now, Bucky very badly wanted to go out there and make every single person that had hurt him suffer.
Rather than doing that, though, he stepped further into the room. “Found him,” he informed the others, voice flat and business-like. Tony couldn’t hear what the others were saying, but he could guess when Bucky’s next words were “alive, but injured. Badly.”
After informing the others, though, he once again focused fully on Tony. “Oh, doll…”
He wanted to speak up, wanted to say hello, or that he’d missed him, or that he’d be fine. But he didn’t want to risk it, not with his injuries and his lungs and the way that his throat felt like he’d swallowed knives. So instead he just attempted the best smile he could, feeling the way it sat unevenly on his face.
And then Bucky was there, and for the first time in what felt like ages, someone touched him without hurting him. The whimper he let out was completely involuntary, instantly triggering another coughing fit that made his eyes water with the pain of it.
Through all of it, Bucky held him, somehow managing to find the exact right balance between tight enough to make Tony feel secure without being so tight that it would hurt more or injure him further.
He didn’t have a lot of strength to move with, but with the bit he had left, he buried his face into Bucky’s neck, savoring the warmth, the feeling of utter and complete safety that Bucky always inspired in him. With Bucky holding him, nothing would hurt him anymore. And while he was still very aware of his injuries, they seemed somehow less painful now.
As he pressed a small, desperately grateful kiss into Bucky’s neck, he could feel the way those strong arms tightened just a little, the way Bucky curled around him protectively.
“I’ve got you, doll. We’re here, we’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
hii! idk if you still remember that werewolf!bucky moodboard you did for the tony stark bingo but, do you still plan to write a story for it? bc im still in love with that idea but no problem if you dont! i love all your winteriron fics :)
Hi Nonny ^_^
Thank you very much for the ask! I do remember that moodboard - the only disadvantage is that there’s currently a pile of… well, quite a few WIPs and ideas and events that I’m working on. So while it’s still the idea to write a story for that one day, I’m afraid I cannot give any guarantees as to when that will be.
Have a lovely day!