「 ꜰʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ʀᴏᴏᴛs; 」

CLARA KENT throw me to the wolves, and i will come back leading the pack

[claraskent]

it’s eleven o’clock and i’ve just made myself a bowl of cereal for dinner lmao so while I eat this go follow @crookednatvre which is where I’ve moved clara, jack, leah and roman!!

[quakeintheskye]

Series of Daisy’s Face (94/∞)

[claraskent]

「 ɴɪᴋᴏ ᴘᴇᴛʀᴀɴ 」:

❛  — lucky ❜ the word spits like a venomous poison straight from the snake’s tongue. the hiss of the word alone is enough to convey what niko thinks of luck on the matter,❛  our numbers are depleted, we’re SCRAMBLING and now the feds are here banging on doors trying to get answers. ❜ chest expanding to leave room for the heavy breath that followed, niko shook his head while he thinks on her statement. ❛  luck is a strange way of putting it. ❜ it’s with that said, niko places himself carefully at  her side, knee extended as he pats at it for her to rest the injured hand upon. ❛  here, open your hand, pass me those clean bandages. ❜   

❝ Us as in us two, ❞ Clara clarifies, gesturing between the two soldiers once he’s finished reminding her of just how bad of a blow they’ve suffered. ❝ I’m well aware of the damage has been done, Petran. Which is why I think WE got off lucky in the grand scheme of things. ❞ What was a banged up hand and a few cuts and bruises compared to what some of the others had suffered in the chaos of the explosion?❝ It really could be worse, we could be wearing an eye patch like Buzz. ❞ She teases, resting her open hand on his knee and reaching for the clean bandages and dropping them in his lap. 

[claraskent]

i’ve one more reply to do on clara which i’m going to do once i’ve walked the dog and made dinner and then i’ll be moving on to jack’s replies!! 

[claraskent]

「 ʙᴜᴢᴢ ʙᴀʀᴛᴏɴ 」 :

“The strap.” He clarified, though he was all too irked that he had to. How did she expect to last in a place like this without a basic understanding of such a thing? Was he catastrophising something insignificant? Was she always that short? Too many questions, too little time. 

“Whatever. Forget it. I can more than handle my own, go on, try take me down,” He challenged, though there was no hidden malice lurking beneath his words – for once. 

“Though can’t say I’ll be inclined to let ya back up.” 

It didn’t matter how many times he said the word strap, or how much enthusiasm he put into saying it. Clara still had no fucking idea what it was he was talking about. ❝ Oh, really? ❞ Clara said, biting her lip was the only thing she could do from bursting out into a fight of laughter. In his current intoxicated state, which was probably the result of a cocktail of drugs and alcohol, he reminded her more of Rocket Raccoon than The Hulk ( a hairy, adorable asshole rather than a giant, green rage monster! ) Folding her arms across her chest, she dipped her head slightly and peered up at him through her lashes, ❝ I’d really love to see you test that theory. ❞ Indulging him probably wasn’t one of her BRIGHTEST ideas, but she really did want to see how this would play out.

❝ Oh, don’t worry about me, ❞ A playful grin danced along her lips, a devilish glint in her brown eyes, ❝ I’d be more worried about how you’re going to take care of yourself when you literally have a blindspot I can use to my advantage. ❞

[claraskent]

「 ɴɪxᴏɴ ᴡᴏʟꜰᴇ 」 ·:

          with furrowed  brows  he  watched  the  young  woman  at  her  battle  of  the  bandage .  nixon  cracked  his  knuckles  to  ease  the  urge  to  —  just  do  it  his  damn  self .  finally ,  he  sighed  &  scratched  his  forehead .  ❝  you  know  i  went  to  med  school  .  for  eight  years  —-  shit  was  expensive  too .  ❞  he  opened  the  first  aid  kit  to  search  for  a  pair  of  latex  free  gloves ,   ❝  but  if  it’s  your  pride  that’s  in  the  way  then  we  can  keep  this  between  us .  i’ll  even  give  you  a  lollipop  for  being  extra  good .  ❞  he   added  sarcastically .  ❝  c’mon  ,  let  me  see  it .  ❞

If it wasn’t for the STINGING sensation that swelled from the palm of her hand, Clara would have happily continued to stubbornly attempt at wrapping her own injury. Call it pride, stupidity or just a general cautious demeanour that being raised in Valdez has given her, but Clara isn’t one for accepting help from others— even if it means she suffers in the long run. Something like a sigh of defeat slips between her lips as she steps forward, handing the bandage over to older brown haired male. ❝ Well, I wouldn’t want you to feel like you’ve wasted your expensive career by not letting you treat me, Doc. So, if this is gonna make you feel like you’ve got your moneys worth, ❞ 

[claraskent]

「 ᴋɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɪᴛᴏ 」 :

❝ you should also put some antibiotic cream or ointment or something in it. water doesn’t always do all the work. ❞ king added, immediately taking a step forward. he had been trained for this since birth, first from balthazar, later from the bureau. his expertise showed, as well, as he undid the sloppy bandaging she had done before and re-did it with trained familiarity, carefully wrapping the bandages around the wound. ❝ is that too tight ? it should be tight enough so you’re to scraping the wound against the bandages, but not too tight so it doesn’t cut the blood flow. ❞ the agent asked, raising his head for a moment to give her a look. ❝ domestic accident ? ❞

❝ Are you some kind of Doctor or something? ❞ Clara asked, watching him work his magic at the holy mess she had made of her bandages— Apparently watching fourteen seasons and one hundred and sixty eight hours of Grey’s Anatomy didn’t mean jack shit unless you actually could wrap your hand with a bandage. Once he had finished attending to her hand, she inspected it briefly and shook her head at his question. ❝ Not tight at all, you did a pretty good job actually. ❞ She couldn’t hide the surprise in her tone, it wasn’t often a handsome stranger came along and played the knight in shining armour. 

At least in real life they didn’t.

Domestic accident? Clara almost snorted at his question. Sure, you could call it a domestic accident... if a bomb being planted in your house party counts as a domestic accident, anyway.  ❝ I wasn’t concentrating when I was washing a sharp knife. ❞ Better he think she’s a total clutz than let slip that she was caught in an assassination attempt.

[claraskent]

「 ᴋᴀʟɪᴀʜ ʙʟᴀᴋᴇ 」‌‌:

“oh, shit. need help with that?” kaliah offered, looking up from her phone. another deal in the making– the business never rested or stopped, even when things took a hit around valdez. she stood up and moved towards the older woman. “i can wrap that again, ‘nd get you some pain meds? or a joint, or a bottle… pick your poison, really, to kill the pain. somethin’ should help.”

❝  Pain meds will be fine. ❞  Clara replied, huffing her chest as she lifted her knee up to her chest and cupped it with her hands, fingers lacing together. Tequila, gin and vodka was Clara’s favourite choice of poison, but no matter how bad life got around Valdez or how much the pain hurt, numbing herself to it and the world like her MOTHER had was out of the question. As cliche as it sounded, becoming her mother was one of Clara’s biggest fears. ❝ And maybe some chicken fingers.❞

[claraskent]

「 ʙᴀᴍʙɪ ᴡɪʟsᴏɴ 」·:

bambi turned to look at clara a small smile on her face, hoping to calm the other down. “can i help you?” she asked softly, just wanting to offer her help in case the other needed it.

❝ You any good at dressing wounds? ❞ Clara asked, pushing the bandage towards the petite brunette and laying her hand upside down on the table for her. ❝ Who knew putting your hand through a piece of glass would cause this much aggravation? ❞ She remembers the night vividly, despite the hazed memory down to one too many tequila shots ( it had been a party after all, nobody was to know somebody would try and make a meat jigsaw out of them all. )

[claraskent]

「 ʟɪɴᴄᴏʟɴ ᴡᴇʟʟs 」:

      “maybe later,” wells smirks as he approaches the brunette. while his injuries were neither serious nor lasting, he had suffered quite mentally during the nights that followed. so much so that he had practically stopped sleeping. without asking for permission, he swipes the bandage from her grasp and tugs her hand closer. he then wraps it firmly and securely - a skill he picked up over many years from serving in the united states army. “there - you can quit whining now.”

Clara would have picked up the nearest heaviest object and thrown it at him if it wasn’t for the simple fact that her grip and her aim was somewhat inhibited by the ugly red slash that ran across the palm of her hand. Instead she settled for rolling her eyes heavenward at the arms dealer, each time he opened his mouth only served as a reminder to Clara of how much of a MISTAKE that night had been. She wished she could blame alcohol or even drugs for the lapse in judgement but she only had herself to blame for this one. ❝ Jesus, ❞ Clara scowled as he tugged at her hand, beginning to wrap the area the shard of glass had skewered, ❝ Take my hand off why don’t you. ❞ She pulled her hand away once he had finished attending to her wound, turning her hand over to investigate his handiwork. Not bad. ❝ Fuck you, I wasn’t whining. ❞ 

[claraskent]

「 ɴɪᴋᴏ ᴘᴇᴛʀᴀɴ 」‌:

there was an ill coated sigh that built up in the back of niko’s throat ——- he knew of his injuries, the reminder of them more POOR TIMING than anything. the fact of the matter was that he would survive, as always.  ❛  i’ve had worse —– ❜ he mumbles the response, takes a position closer to her and outstretches his arm. his own injuries are just mere flesh wounds, he could hold a weapon, throw a punch, he was still USEFUL so without saying anything more on his own status, he nodded,  ❛  i can wrap that for you, if you want. ❜

Clara doesn’t doubt his words for a second, out of all the ranks in the organisation it’s the other soldiers that she sees coming home injured the most ——- not the assassins or the getaway drivers, it was always THEM.  ❝ I think we got off lucky this time. ❞ So, why didn’t she feel lucky? She’d SURVIVED with all her fingers, toes and body parts still attached. The gash on the back of her head and the wound on her hand might scar, but she was still alive; she was still breathing, which was more than could be said for some people. She shifts somewhat uncomfortably as he approaches her, having somebody to take care of her is still a foreign concept she’s not sure she’ll ever be ready to accept. ❝ Be my guest. ❞ As bizzare as the notion might still be to Clara that someone WANTS to help her, she sure as hell wasn’t going to turn down his help when she was five seconds away from burning her bandages and dancing around the flames like a sacrificial ritual. 

[johnsonandcoulson]

100 days of daisy johnson [26/100]

[brittsmemes]

Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone:

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[claraskent]

Feel free to send this to any of my muses and I’ll answer them after work tonight!@jacksbarton @agntthompson @ofbvstards

[johnnyssilverhand]

Sorry I got a little militant about the vaccine. I don’t know what’s going on with me right now.

[claraskent]

「 ʟᴇᴏɴᴀʀᴅᴏ ᴄᴀʙʀᴇʀᴀ 」:

     leo could be softer, more empathetic, gentler in this situation. but twenty-eight years worth of wall building only really one person has entirely made their way passed- or more like bulldozed through. and that one person is his husband. there’s always that panic, that moment of fearing being seen as anything but this angry asshole to someone else. he doesn’t want to be seen as weak. if he’s weak, then his list of people he cares for grows and that means he has more to lose. but his grip on her hand loosens and he takes a slightly tender approach to wrapping clara’s hand. it’s a minor change but it is one. ❝ even in pain you don’t shut up. ❞ he sighs heavily but there’s some fondness to it. ❝ and my bedside manner changes depending on the person. ❞ he finishes wrapping her hand and lets go. ❝ there, now do you want whiskey or vodka ?? ❞

❝ How exactly did you get this guy to fall in love with you and marry you? It can’t have been for your charming and winning personality. ❞ Even in pain she’s still quick with her quips. ❝ Or is tall, dark and grumpy his thing? ❞ She watches him wrap the bandage around her hand, his grip loosening on hers and his newly found tender touch doesn’t go unnoticed. If only it was this easy to get him to go easier on her when they sparred together, Clara thought. Not that she actually needed him to, she’s more than sure she’s caught him smirking before after giving him a bloody nose. It was an accident, or so she claims it was. ❝ Are you trying to say they’re only shit right now because it’s me? ❞ She arches her brow, eyes narrowed on him slightly. ❝ Vodka. Always vodka. Whiskey is for grumpy old men like yourself. ❞

[claraskent]

「 ᴋɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɪᴛᴏ 」:

❝ do you need some help ? ❞ king asked, coming just a bit closer, dark eyes trying to expect the bandage on the woman’s hand. h pulled his hands from the pockets of his trousers, though they simply hovered in the air, not being close enough to touch.  ❝ you cleaned the wound up before bandaging it, right ? otherwise it’ll get infected and you’ll be in a lot more pain than you are. ❞

Clara narrowed her eyes at his question and nodded, she wasn’t an idiot. She knew she needed to clean a wound before dressing it ( she’d seen enough episodes of Grey’s Anatomy to know that ) that was part of her problem. Cleaning it with one hand had been hard enough, dressing it with a bandage was even worse. ❝ Rinsed and cleaned it under hot water, don’t you worry about it. Wouldn’t mind a hand though, the dressing part is a lot harder than it looks. ❞ She added begrudgingly, she’d normally rather struggle for hours trying to dress it herself but she’s already reached her wits end with the damn bandage for one night. 

[claraskent]

「 ɴɪᴋᴏ ᴘᴇᴛʀᴀɴ 」:

he wasn’t going to deny the fact that it HURT to walk. the injuries he’d sustained, from the broken ribs, the impaled glass into his side from the nearby window, and the broken ribs the fact that he was alive was something of a miracle. however — he was managing all right, others on the other hand were still recuperating, which is something he should have been doing as well. ❛  are you all right? ❜ he questioned needlessly, it was pretty DAMN clear that she was far from all right. ❛  do you need help with that? ❜

Clara lifted her head at the sound of a familiar voice, barely managing a thin lipped smile in his direction. To say he looked like he’d been through hell was an understatement, she can’t remember a time she last saw him looking so battered and bruised. She almost felt bad for complaining about her own injuries after looking at his, but her hand still stings like a motherfucker and it’s more of an annoyance to her than anything else. The throbbing in the back of her skull she can handle, being rendered an invalid because of a shard of glass biting into her palm is a whole other story. ❝ Me? What about you? You look like Humpty Dumpty after he had a great fall. ❞