#Dr. Aquino

[darkangel1791]

Random Thoughts on The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

Dr. Raynor is a terrible therapist, part two.

Again, let me say that I am aware that everything said is for comedic and/or dramatic purposes. And I do understand that the constraints of an hour episode of a series makes it necessary to suspend disbelief at times. The opinion I'm expressing is based on the reality of the show as presented.

In the second session that we see, the first thing she does is insist that Sam come to the session with Bucky. Leaving aside the fact that she has no authority over Sam, and that was way out of line, a therapist should never invite a third person into a one on one therapy session without first discussing it with the client. In a therapy session, a client is very vulnerable and sensitive questions will be asked. It should be a place of safety. Demanding that a third person be there without any warning, and without the client's consent is completely shattering that safe place, as well as an incredible breach of doctor-patient confidentiality.

Her excuse for this is that it is her job to make sure "you're okay". She seems to be addressing Sam which is a complete lie on her part, but even if she is addressing both of them, it is still not her place to suddenly make this relationship a priority in Bucky's therapy. If this is the last therapy session she will have with Bucky, then even moreso it should be solely focused on him.

She takes two people that she has never counseled together before, one of whom she met for the first time minutes ago, and immediately starts trying to work on the relationship. She doesn't even know what their relationship is.

Not quite using the Miracle question correctly. You identify the problem first and then say if you woke up tomorrow and that problem was solved, how would your world be different?

Straight to the soul-gazing exercise? Not even funny, Doc. The soul-gazing exercise is a process done in a quiet, relaxed, atmosphere. I'll just say, in no way would a police conference room in Baltimore ever be a place to do the soul-gazing exercise, and not even elaborate.

Then, Bucky has a significant, emotional, moment. He actually verbally expresses a deeply held fear of his. He even becomes emotional, you can hear it in his voice. Dr. Raynor does NOT acknowledge this in any way. And she allows Sam to brush it off as unimportant as well. Terrible, TERRIBLE, therapeutic response! Her patient actually verbalizes a real fear, experiences a real emotion, allows his inner self out for once, and the response is, NOTHING. No one cares, not even his therapist.

Both of my posts are very long, and thank you so much if you read through them both. But I have to tell you, I could have gone through line by line and pointed out how this therapy was just a train wreck!

Again, no shade to the writers, the point of these episodes was not to portray healthy therapy. But I have seen some reactions on YouTube where people were saying that they loved this therapist. "She didn't take Bucky's bullshit" "She ordered Sam in there like a boss!" etc. And, maybe because therapy is something near and dear to my heart, I want to express my opinion about it, because I don't want anyone to be having this kind of therapy experience and thinking it is a good thing.

Dr. Raynor is a terrible therapist pt.1

[steelbluehome]

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On 'The Falcon and the Winter Soldier's Curiously Iffy Relationship With Therapy

By Gregory Lawrence

Mar 28, 2021

I’ve been going to therapy for many years, and if you’re reading this, I suggest you do, too. It’s an exceptional tool in the ongoing journey of one’s mental health, a place where you can speak and be listened to without agenda. The therapists I’ve spoken with in my life have one common trait: Unflappability. They are professionals at navigating the complicated emotional lives of their clients while not becoming destructively emotional themselves. They don’t pursue anything but giving you a runway to find your truth.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is a welcomely grounded Marvel Cinematic Universe series, one less interested in the “big three” of supernatural baddies (“androids, aliens, and wizards,” as Anthony Mackie’s Falcon phrases it) and more interested in the traumas and struggles of getting chewed up and spit out by the systems of regular-ass life. Yes, Mackie’s Sam and Sebastian Stan’s Bucky are fierce warriors who have used state-of-the-art tech and super-soldier serums respectively to battle all kinds of strange folks. But two episodes in, the series’ fights are human-to-human, full of shades and nuance, and often hamstrung by the cruel machinations of a society so determined to make life hard for people (especially returning veterans).

That’s why I was happy to see Amy Aquino show up as Dr. Christina Raynor, Bucky’s court-ordered therapist, in the very first episode. As made evident by Bucky’s nightmare of the merciless acts of violence he took while under Hydra mind control (rendered with shocking horror-tinged brutality by series director Kari Skogland), he needs therapy badly. In their initial sequence together, we see Bucky behave the way we often see troubled protagonists behave in therapy scenes: He plays the silent treatment at best and is openly antagonistic at worst. He baldly lies to his mental health professional about his own mental health. I understand that our (anti)hero can’t suddenly be enlightened and peaceful and ready to move on from his inner conflict; I want to see him go through this journey over the season of television. But I still couldn’t help but want to scream through the TV at him, “Just tell her the truth! You’re only hurting yourself!”

Depiction doesn’t equal endorsement, especially when it comes to a complicated character like Bucky who has objectively committed murders, but there’s something that continues to be complicated about seeing the center of our journey, the person we’re to align ourselves with being so resistant toward mental health wellness, perhaps to provoke a response of “Aw, I understand, I’d behave the same way. Therapy is weird!”

Then again, Dr. Christina Raynor might not be the best therapist for Bucky, or any client. Dramatic license must be taken in any depiction of real life. Unlike the often aimless moments of regular-ass life, dramatic scenes must involve conflict, intention, agency, and a visible drive toward a visible goal. Thus Dr. Raynor, like many film and television therapists before her, takes an aggressive approach toward “meeting the goal of making Bucky well,” poking and prodding at him, trying her best to “get him there.” She simply drips with derision and disdain at every level of her interaction with poor Bucky, even snarkily acting out his past tendencies to commit brainwashed murders. On the one hand, she needs to behave like this for the function of the scene; to watch a character be a blank slate of non-provocation without any goal of her own would likely make a boring scene. The way the scene plays is a strong visualization of Bucky’s resistance and Dr. Raynor’s (and the audience’s) desire for him to know peace. But as she kept poking and prodding and needling and frowning, even while insisting that Bucky needs to trust her, I thought to myself, “Of course he’s not speaking up. Who’d want to spill their innermost secrets to this force who obviously has an aggressive agenda?” The scene attempts to justify some of this behavior by reminding us that Dr. Raynor is a soldier who’s seen combat herself. But the moment a therapist tells you “That’s utter bullshit” is the moment you find a new therapist, dramatic license or not.

Episode 2 pumps up some of the oddness of this therapy dynamic by injecting it with one of the key secrets to the MCU’s sauce: Tension-cutting banter. After Bucky is arrested for not showing up to one of his court-mandated sessions (another complicated moment of positioning the viewer as finding therapy to be an impediment to the characters’, and show’s, action), Dr. Raynor forces both Bucky and Sam to sit down in front of her and figure out what’s tearing them apart. Surprisingly, and quite touchingly, Stan and Mackie play this scene earnestly, the pain they feel toward each other and themselves seeping from the corners of their eyes into their full figures, even as they do bantery things like move their chairs close together without knocking their knees together.

But Dr. Raynor is over here roasting and toasting them like a damn Friars Club gala. She glibly but stridently positions the exercises she wants them to do as normally being done by romantic couples, not giving them any chance to breathe at the slightest moment of resistance, cutting her patients off at the knees under the auspices of helping them stand. She is sarcastic throughout, saying things like “No volunteers? How surprising,” and “Sweet Jesus” with the tenor of a middle school gym teacher ragging on the math nerd who’s getting whomped in dodgeball. And yes, there’s an attempt at fun and bravado in these back-and-forths, the way we see all kinds of other fun back-and-forths in other “serious” MCU moments, the way we see Sam and Bucky constantly treat each other like bickering children. But not every single moment of the MCU needs to possess this kind of tone, especially not when we’re trying to watch a mental health professional deal with such clearly damaged clients.

All of this, this brevity and impatience and snarkiness, is perhaps more understandable and better played in this episode, given the emotional states of our title characters and the fact that it’s framed by an increasingly sleazy, dehumanizing new Captain America (Wyatt Russell, simply throwing away the line, “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up, so just do whatever you gotta do with him, then send him off to me”). But it’s still odd and brittle in a way I find unnecessary, even unhelpful. The sequence ends with a genuine moment of clarity and understanding — a breakthrough, even — between Sam and Bucky, even though it ends with Sam leaving the room. Dr. Raynor’s response, simply, is a sarcastic, “Thank you. That was really great.”

“No bullshit tough love,” to use a word Dr. Raynor is fond of, is a sensible stylistic choice for any character in Falcon and the Winter Soldier, but I worry it comes at the cost of actual human connection, change, or empathy in these very sensitive moments. And I worry it all comes at a cost of further demonizing seeking therapy as a viable option for anyone watching. I love the way The Falcon and the Winter Soldier pushes forward in its darker-than-usual plottings, but I really love the way it stands still in its darker-than-usual emotional explorations. I don’t want Dr. Raynor, nor performer Amy Aquino, to suddenly become clipped or dampened or in any way made less of a human being. I just hope Dr. Raynor’s own in-universe therapist tells her to get out of the way of her own bullshit and let the characters explore themselves in future episodes.

[ultralightpoe]

Venomous- Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gahhhhhh, enjoy. Part 2 soon

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 7566

Requests: OPEN! [This work is a request]

[Thank you for the gif @another-nerdy-blog ]

Enjoy!

Inland Taipan 

Scientific Name: Oxyuranus microlepidotus

- 

“Despair is the price one pays when they set an impossible aim.” Dreykov murmurs, his voice sending a chill down your spy as he circles you slowly. His footsteps fall into a pattern your brain can’t help but follow, a constant thud like a war drum. 

And though he claimed to be checking you for your next mission you couldn’t help but feel as though he was circling you like a predator would it’s prey. 

‘He needed you’, you tried to remind yourself, doing your best to ease yourself and hide the fear from him. Because the truth was he didn’t need you. You might be his top assassin in this moment but you were easily replaceable. 

Natasha herself had warned you before she escaped. 

“We are nothing but weapons here.” She had whispered to you one night, huddled together to keep warmth on the mission, arms wound tightly around each other. Your sister in arms, your sister in life since you didn’t know your own family. 

You had known she wanted out, you wanted the same thing, and though you weren’t mad she had made it out you were upset that she had done it without you. 

Countless times dreaming of a life beyond all of this. 

Lies. 

“Do you understand what this means, pretty girl?” Dreykov asks, pulling your attention away from your memories back to where he know stood behind you, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror while you shake your head. 

You were nervous he had caught you, that he knew you had hacked into his system three days ago to find your birth name, and so when you had been ordered down you were sure he was going to kill you. 

But instead he had you prep for an upcoming mission. 

“It means not to set yourself up for failure. You know your skill, and you know your limitations. You are my top weapon.” He explains, not breaking eye contact as you bite back your tongue to make a snide comment. “The mission I am about to send you on is long and I trust no one but you.”

“Thank you.” You mutter, nodding your head. 

“I’d like to introduce you to the key of this mission, a vital part.” The door opens a couple feet away, and a strong figure was soon led into the room, the second you spot him your entire body tightens in discomfort. 

Right, Natalia Romanov was gone and you had taken her place. Which meant you would now do duo missions with the Winter Soldier himself. 

And you knew the moment your eyes traced over his body that he would ruin everything. By the way his eyes traced over your own before his fists tightened you knew he was thinking the same about you. 

- 

Dr. Aquinos always had a noticeable look of pity that, no matter how many times you saw it, always set your stomach twisting in a mix of anger and embarrassment. But you were sure if you were to bring this up she would simply tell you that you were over reading, trying to find an excuse not to trust her. 

‘By the sounds of it you weren’t always this distrusting, why don’t we try to go back and think about when that began to change’. Blah blah blah. 

The clock on the wall was the only sound that could be heard in the room, with you sitting completely still in an effort to wait out this hour until you could leave, and her across from you sitting patiently with her classic notepad and pen. She often twirled it between her fingers when she was getting impatient, and you tried not to smirk at the sight of her doing it now. 

“I thought we had moved past this waiting game routine.”

“I thought you were over that sweater,” You huff, shrugging your shoulder a bit and giving her an empty glare, only to find that she narrows her eyes. Like a lion reading the challenge. 

“You look sick.” There it is again, that damn pity that made you want to scratch out her eyes, and maybe your own. You always hated her pity, or maybe you hated the ‘serene’ paintings around the room or the happy family photo that proudly hung from the wall next to the office door. The same photo that always dug a hole in your chest whenever you spotted it. 

It was a reminder and a slap in the face at the same time. Dr. Aquinos kids will never know that pain or suffering which isn’t their fault and yet you couldn’t stop the resentment that filled you whenever you saw that damn photo. The smile that reminded you of so many… so many children that deserved better. 

You hated this office, and yet you found yourself here once a damn week. 

“I believe the term you are looking for is sickening.” You flash her a wide smile, crossing your legs to seem more confident in this moment, trying not to seem like that movement alone caused you pain. 

“I mean sick.” She states, her tone still holding that fucking pity. “Was it a long night for you?”

Yes. It had been an extremely long night for you. The first half of the night had been spent on top of a roof in the freezing cold for surveillance, only the target had shown up 40 minutes later than he normally did which meant you had an extra 40 minutes of the winter air making you shiver and tightening your bones. Which made the hip injury you tried to avoid all the worse, hard to move around. 

By the time you managed to limp your way home, scarfing down  the small rations of food into your mouth before shoving a pain pill down and diving into the cot you kept in the closet for safety. 

You had gotten maybe an hour worth of sleep before the terrors dragged you awake in a pool of your own sweat, panic clinging to your every move. 

Your hip still hurt, the throbbing beginning to work it’s way into your spine, but you had a performance to play here. “Not really, I slept through the night and woke up in my soft warm bed.”

“You’re not still sleeping on the military cot in the closet then?”

“No,” You lie, enjoying the way it slips past your lips without a notch. “I’ve got a queen size bed now.”

Yet another lie, your apartment held a duffel bag of your mission gear and suit. One dresser of normal clothes, the cot in the closet. That was all you needed. 

And it’s pathetic, the way you once dreamed of this for so long just to be living this miserable existence. 

“It’s common to miss it, you know, there is no shame in that. It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” She mumbles softly, and you hate the way she can read you that easily. 

It was true, you missed the red room. You missed your sisters and you missed the routine. You never needed to be someone in the rooms, out here in the world? A new story completely. 

You were nothing, no one. 

All you had was a name and even that didn’t seem like it belonged to you. 

“Why don’t we keep expanding on your years in the rooms….” She switches the conversation, knowing you both had hit a dead end, choosing a new route. “You told me a little about it before and I noticed that most widows have specialty names built off of that name itself. But you didn’t, can you explain why you were named….the ‘viper’ was it?”

“Yes.” Ironically the way you bite this out makes the ending sound like your very own hiss, all you needed now was a rattle and black eyes. 

“Can you explain to me how you got that name?”

“Because of…. Him.” Even referencing him left a sore spot in your chest, sweat beading the back of your neck. 

“Ah, Bucky Barnes.” She hums, and you hated that people called him that. You hated that he got his name and his recovery. He was the Soldat, he would never change and of course people were falling for his trap. 

You had long ago. 

“The SOLDAT gave me the name on our mission.” You sneer, “What time is it?”

The clock had stuck, you were sure of it. And when she reached to check the time on her watch you caught sight of her notes with the words HEALTH RISK circled and underlined, her family photo once again making you a bit nauseous as she hums out and nods to the door to let you know the time was up. 

“I look forward to our next session.”

“I don’t.” It was the truth, and you enjoyed the fact that you could speak the truth with her even if she got a little too close. “But I wish you a good week, I hope your family is okay.”

The smile that spreads across her face as you leave makes you angry, but not at her, at yourself. 

She was right, you were a health risk. To yourself and to others, but that wouldn’t matter soon, the second you completed your final task you wouldn’t have to worry anymore. 

The list of names you had made for yourself, your last mission on this miserable life would be to take out the people that hurt you. 23 names total, and at the very end of the list in the neatest handwriting you could muster was ‘The Soldat’. 

You would leave this earth, but he would leave it first. 

- 

Alternative name/s:

Fierce Snake, Small-scaled Snake, Lignum Snake 

-

It was easy to ignore the widow,  she liked to keep to herself in the corner of the small safe house they were keeping in on the first part of the mission. 

A list of names, 118 total, that Hydra and the Red Room needed gone as soon as possible. Risks that needed to be handled. And the Soldat was used to doing missions on his own but they paired him with the Widow to help. 

And at first he was sure she would be trouble, but he was proven to be wrong since the Widow seemed just as sure as him that she didn’t want to be near him. 

Right now she sat in the corner, crisscrossing, taking time to clean all her knives with the polishing kit that most of the Hydra safe houses had to keep their gear clean. Her hands worked seamlessly, making sure that the knife shown under the light, and he couldn’t seem to look at anything else but her. 

Maybe the Soldat was annoyed that she had used the polishing kit before he could. Maybe he just liked seeing that someone else had the same routine he did on these missions. Or maybe he was interested in the vials sitting beside her. 

As if she could read his thoughts she reached for one, keeping the knives before her on the ground as she twisted the cap to the vial and moved to pour the liquid over each weapon before taking what was left and he was confused by the fact that she was putting on her suit.

He looked closer, realizing that there were vials hidden within her sleeve. He wanted to know what they were for until she looked up to give him a knowing smile, teeth flashing in a way that pissed him off. 

He turned away again, so she can go back to doing her hair and looking at her reflection. 

But it all made sense the night of the first hunt. She had started at the other end of the house and planned to make their way through to find their target, and by the time he did find her she already had the target within her clutch. 

His arm twisted within her legs to keep him in place with one hand pushing his head so his neck was exposed while her other wrist snaps to reveal two puncture points at the knuckles of her suit made to look like fangs. Only a flash of those before they reach his neck. 

She removes herself immediately and he rushes to get the target, worried that he would fight back and wondering what would make the widow so stupid to let him go before he realizes that the Target wasn’t moving at all. Instead he seems paralyzed as he died slowly. 

When he whirls back to the Widow she is once again facing a mirror, fixing her hair and lipstick before turning to him with a smile that twisted his chest. “Are there any more loose ends?” 

The russian falls off his tongue with ease and she narrows her eyes at him to tilt her head. 

“Tous les détails sont pris en charge,” [All the loose ends are taken care of.] She shrugs, twirling her hair before spinning on her toes and swaying her hips to walk away. His brain racks for a moment, never great at French which she had realized on the first day, and followed the brat down the hall. 

He risks a look down the hall where Marvin Montys child slept and spots the blood splatter on the wall, before following her. 

At least the widow could do her job. 

- 

“You’re making a lot of progress, Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums out, nodding her head as she watches him from her regular spot. She hasn’t scribbled on her notepad in the past 30 minutes of their hour-long session, and he hopes that’s a good sign. “But I’d like to dive a bit deeper for a moment, cut to the harsh point if you don’t mind.”

“Not like I have a choice here Doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny,” She smirks for a second before sitting up a bit. “There’s a patch of memories that you said helped you break from the Soldier with Steve. Made it easier, your own words.” 

“There was. About a month before I was sent out to get Steve….. I had just gotten back from another mission.”

“The one with the ‘Viper’ is that correct?”

He has to clear his throat in attempt to fight off the tightness, feeling his chest constrict in pain as he nods. 

“It was a long mission. I hadn’t been away from the chair for that long before and she managed to break through every crack formed. Or at least we thought she did.”

“Have you tried to find her? Since you have come back?” 

“I started trying to find her the second Steve found me.” He explains, thinking back to when he first started tracking her down. But there was nothing, even going through all the programs he could within the Red Rooms files, he couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere after him. 

He was terrified, because if he couldn’t find a single trace of you that might have meant you were gone and he didn’t think he could survive in a world that he knew didn’t have you in it. 

But then Natasha freed the Red Room while he was ‘snapped’ and the world he came back to was a world with the Widows and all their secrets revealed. And that’s when he found Yelena….. Well Yelena had found him. 

She had been suffering from the loss of her sister, and had taken to finding all the widows herself to make sure they were fine. She was the one person in this world that had the information he needed. 

Sam, the new captain america, had poured over the intel with him. Your intel, the trail to find you. 

“You sound as if you have.”

“Not yet, but I’m close.” He nods. “I have this feeling in my chest, that I’m almost there. That I’ve almost got her. And I can give her what she’s always wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

“A candle that smells like orchids by a front door where you can hang your keys. A door mat decorated to invite kids to trick or treat on Halloween. Curtains that catch the light in the morning.” None of the things he mentioned were his dreams, not until she had mentioned them. 

“I hope you get those things.” He does too. And he was close, matter fact he only had 3 more days before Sam and himself went to find you. 

- 

The inland taipan's venom is the most potent of any snake in the world. A single bite contains enough venom to kill around 100 adult humans. The venom is a cocktail of enzymes that paralyze nerve endings, destroy muscle tissue, and cause severe bleeding

- 

A month with the Soldat had been easy keeping to yourself, 2 months had shown you so much more. 

The first being he was extremely grumpy in the mornings, no matter what. Even before you both had begun getting along you had noticed that he hated them. Every move he made was tight, He would rip open the ration packets and stomp his feet just about anywhere. He would do weapons checks so that all you would hear were the clicks and twists of his gun and the metal hand grabbing everything. 

Then he would do bed checks, coming over to the cot you had claimed as your own to throw you off it and search through your stuff. 

Month three, 3 targets in, you had completely learned his morning routine. And since you had been on watch last night you got the gift of seeing it in real time. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning in his sleep and mumbling something about a Steve he sat up right at 5am, launching himself out of his cot and taking in his surroundings. He glared at you, which made you smirk as he passed to head to the bathroom. He stretched in there, too proud to admit that even the Soldat needed to loosen his muscles. You heard the water run telling you he was right on schedule with cleaning himself up and you took the chance to rest your head on the small pillow to close your eyes before he stomps back. 

You know he is reaching for the ration packets without even opening your eyes, and you know he uses his teeth to tear it open in hopes to release some of the tension he had built up. You know he is already snatching your own ration packet to prepare it, moving to start the kettle and prepare the bowls. 

You have another 15 minutes of him checking his weapons, hearing him grunt with every weapon cleaned and polished before making sure they were all strapped into their holsters. The kettle starts ringing and he has the habit of rushing to grab it before it bothered you, and you always thought it was the most human thing to do, like a glimpse into who he would have been if he hadn’t become this monster. 

The smell of cream of wheat fills the air, and you hear his steps come to your cot, right on time. 

In the beginning he used to snatch you up to fling you, now he merely reached out a hand to guide you up without an ounce of aggression before he searched through your stuff. And normally you would go grab the rationed breakfast and get ready but today you chose to head to his own cot, sliding into it. 

You were just tired, and you really didn’t care as he turned to glare at you while you curled up, pretending that you weren’t basking in the smell of the leather and soap he wore, pressing your face into the cloth of the cot. A small ounce of fear fills you when he marches forward, only for him to pull the blanket up and cover your shoulders. 

And the warmth fills your body, black filling your vision as you fall asleep once more, this time in the Soldats bed. 

You wake a little later, eyes snapping around the room to check everything, finding the Soldat sitting over his tech to watch your next target. He snaps his head to you the second you sit up, eyes tracing over you before nodding in contempt and turning back to the task at hand. 

When you stand from the cot to grab your gear you are shocked to find that he had already prepared it for you. 

Not only had the Soldat let you sleep, but he had helped you prepare. 

And that small tug in your chest is a weakness, you know it, but that doesn’t stop you from turning to watch him work. 

If he wasn’t in this life you were sure he would have been a good man. 

You felt bad lying to him,  but you had to because good man or not he was a soldier first. And a good soldier would take you out for your weakness, a good soldier would kill you for what you were doing. 

- 

The worst part of waking up was the fact that you couldn’t escape the dreams and memories even with your eyes open. Most think that it’s over once you wake, but for you? Never. Every move is haunted by the past, every breath another painful punishment, and everywhere you look is just another reminder. There was nowhere you could escape. 

So when you manage to pull yourself from the nightmare, sitting up with your clothes drenched in a cold sweat, the darkness of the closet surrounding you like a blanket of protection. 

You’re not there….You remind yourself. If it’s dark then they are leaving you alone. 

And when you sit up, pain shoots through your hip at every single move, letting yourself out of the closet you begin your routine. 

3 am, a slight shower. Not long in fear you would be caught and in part you didn’t want to run too much water. Brush teeth, dress in suit. 

3:15, limp to the kitchen and start boiling water before you reach into your duffel to grab the pain pills you kept hidden away. The prescription written in your name feels wrong, like aren’t actually yours, like you are living the life of a stranger. But you remind yourself it doesn’t matter anyways as you shove it in your mouth, going back to scarf the cream of wheat down and then you head out for an intel session. 

You never take the door, instead you snatch your duffel and remove a little of the newspaper to slide out and climb down the fire escape. 

You take back roads, your static sounder messing up any footage of yourself the cameras might have caught. And soon enough you were prepping yourself to watch your target, venom sitting in the wrists of your suit, a little bit of that past routine giving you something to focus on. 

20 more names on the list until you would go after the Soldat, 21 more names total. 21 names until you are finished with it all. 

All you had to do was wait for the perfect time to kill this one. 

- 

The bite of the Inland Taipan with envenomation can be rapidly fatal, it can take as early as 30 minutes

- 

The Widow had worn on the Soldat, a shame to admit. 

A routine had built where it shouldn't have and now instead of working around each other they worked with each other. They made the rations together, ate together, cleaned their weapons and reloaded them together. 

When he would sit to watch the intel she began coming to sit with him, if not to watch it herself she would lean her head against him and find something to busy herself with while he worked. 

But the biggest change was the banter. 

Gone were the days of him grunting and glaring, she would refuse that now. Instead they found themselves going back and forth, but it was never serious, mostly teasing. 

She would speak in French to piss him off because she knew the Soldat struggled to keep up with it. He would come out of the shower and lean over where she slept to make the water drip down on her while she tried to sleep. She would trip him as he tried to get dressed and he would pull out strands of hair while she did it. 

Back and forth, push and pull. 

Today, when they were planning to start the intel stage on the next target it had turned out to be a downpour of rain, and normally he would go anyway. And yet, when you went to grab your suit he reached out his flesh hand to stop you, pulling you to sit back down. 

“Today, we rest.” He orders, watching your eyes narrow at the russian before you nod and stand, keeping ahold of his hand as you head to where you both keep the stash of rations. 

This safe house was freezing, and it made him miss the last one, not to mention this safe house only held one cot. The best part about this safe house? 

It had amazing rationing food. 

So when you shook the pack to heat it up he made sure to stay close and start the kettle. Keeping so close that he could always feel your arm against him. 

And once the rations were ready you both huddled together against the counters for cover so you could let your walls down a bit, sitting side by side. You shared your beef and potatoes, he shared his spaghetti, eating out of the portion packs and drinking the tea. But his favorite part about this new routine was when the conversation turned to dreams. 

“If I wasn’t in this program……” You hum, and he can’t help but watch your every movement, the way you lick your hips and scratch your forehead in contemplation. “I would have a big house.” 

He huffs out a laugh, shoving the last of his food in mouth as you shrug. “Yes, a big house. And…… and I would have a candle that smells like orchids so whenever people enter they think it smells nice….. And maybe a rug outside the door so they can see it when the kids trick or treat.”

He can’t help the smile that forms from listening about your dream, grabbing your trash to throw away before cleaning out the mugs you both used. 

“Oh! I’d have kids. At least 7!” You continue, following him before shuffling to tech case to find your camera set up. He knows you’re going to triple check that everything is working to busy yourself, something you often did whenever you brought up the idea of kids. 

Widows couldn’t have kids, this he knew. They all received the procedure. To stop periods, to keep their bodies from transforming too much and too prevent pregnancies whenever Dreykov sent them on seduction missions. And before the Soldat had met you none of that had really mattered to him. 

But now, the thought of you being used like that, it made him furious. And he tried to figure out ways to prevent it, ways to stay attached to you as a mission partner forever. 

But that would never happen, they would never allow that. So he tries not to think about it, instead he moves forward to pull you away from the tech, pulling you to the cot so you both can lay down, pulling the blanket up and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Goodnight,” You whisper in french, and pinches your arm to make you laugh before letting himself fall asleep. \

- 

Bucky had the defense of saying that they had tried knocking first, and that was a lame defense at that. But he thought about his arguments as he picked the lock with ease, pushing the door open and letting Sam take the lead. 

At the last second his flesh hand grabs at the Captain America suit, pulling his friend back to warn him. “A quick heads up, she doesn’t fight like the others.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, don’t let her wrap her legs around you and don’t let her knives come into contact, small slash or not they are all laced in venom. And above all avoid getting punctured by any of her weapons.” He explains. 

“I thought we were going in to reason with her.”

“We are.” Bucky sighs, his chest constricting in pain. “She’s just a little lost. We’ve all been there.”

The need for revenge was strong. He had been there himself, Yelena had been there. Many widows have been there. And you were currently handling that yourself, handling all the trauma yourself. And that thought hurt him. 

Sam had agreed to help, to come with him and find you, talk you down from this path Captain America style. 

So they stood together as they pushed the door in, searching every inch of the apartment for you until they realized you weren’t here. So instead they looked around for where you might be. 

“I thought all the Hydra Safe Houses had been torn apart.” Sam mutters, admiring the work you did on the windows, newspaper covering nearly every inch while Bucky moves to the closet where he had seen the bed in their search for you. 

He could imagine you nestled up in the cot, surrounded in the dark. The way you used to pull the covers completely over your head to hide from the sun and use your feet to pull the blanket in so you were fully cocooned. 

But this….. None of this was you. Countless times talking about your dreams and this was the outcome? You deserved better. 

“Everything you told me about her just doesn’t seem right here.” Sam mutters once more moving to the kitchens and digging through the cabinets. “Military rations and tea. That’s all.”

“She was so full of life, used to dream of her freedom. She needs help.” Bucky snaps, anger beginning to course through him as he heads to the kitchen. One of your biggest things when you were paired was hiding the tech when you left so no one would have access. 

Your favorite spot was always the bottom left cabinet and sure enough it all sat there. 

“Brilliant.” Sam smiles, leaning over the laptop as Bucky hacks his way in to see what you have been watching. It takes a moment for the footage to load, and once it does he finds video footage of a man walking around his apartment in a towel. 

“Live feed.” Bucky mumbles. 

“That’s Eaiton,” Sam sighs, leaning forward as the man walks down a hall and heads into what looks to be a master bedroom. The footage follows the movement and when the feed changes to another camera you had hidden Sam whistles. “And that is NOT Eaitons wife.”

“Course not.” Bucky chuckles, pulling out his phone to enter in the address on the intel. “What do you know about him?”

“Nothing much. Was on Congress, just got removed but they didn’t announce it. Kept the whole thing hush hush. Last I talked to Yelena she was looking into his name, it’s why I recognized him so quickly.”

“The address isn’t far off, if we take the back roads we can avoid traffic.” Bucky explains, beginning to lead the way out of the apartment while already dialing on his phone. It rings and rings and rings.  Once the call fails he tries again and again and again. 

Finally it’s picked up, a brash voice filling his ears, out of breath. “Who the fuck keeps calling?!”

“Jared Eaiton, I’m calling to inform you that your life is in danger. I advise you to not hang up.” Bucky starts, watching Sams wings expand so he can take off as he straddles his bike. “I need you to do a couple things for me, starting with having you and the women you are with get dressed as normally as possible. I need you to act natural.”

“Why? For what?”

“Sir, there is a Widow somewhere near your apartment,” He explains, though part of him wants to let you get your revenge he knew you were better than this. You were more than a widow. “Step two, are you ready?”

- 

Inland taipans are generally calm and reclusive, preferring to escape from trouble. However, they will defend themselves and strike if provoked, mishandled, or prevented from escaping

- 

The Soldat moved easily with you, striding side by side as you prepared to take out the target. And normally you loved his proximity, but today it did nothing but give you anxiety. 

Something he seemed to be picking up on. 

Before you could split from him to follow the plan he grabs your elbow slowly, making sure to not trigger the fang puncture on your wrist, pulling you close to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t like this plan.”

“It’s a plan we have done many times.” You try to laugh, giving him your best pretty smile to push him off the track. It only makes it worse. 

“There is something wrong with you today.” He grunts out, keeping you close. “I don’t want to separate.”

“We do this, this is the plan.” You huff, “Don’t stress grumpy man.” 

You lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, watching his eyes narrow at you a little more, but you smile like nothing is wrong once more. Leaving his arms and heading off. 

You didn’t have time, he had been a little grumpy this morning which meant he will work faster on the mission, and you had two kids to smuggle out before he caught you. 

You had made sure to take the side closest to their room for this mission, climbing up to the second story window and sliding in like a shadow. It takes 5 steps until you are in their room, and your heart expands the second you see them. 

They slept so soundly, looking so peaceful that you knew you were a villain just for having to wake them up. But you do, keeping a hand over their mouths to keep them calm as you order them in english. 

“I need you to listen.” You order, as they both try to move away. “Follow me. Now.” 

The boy jumps to do so, the girl however holds her ground until you get on her level. “Listen to me, you and your brother are in danger here. And unless you want him to be hurt you will follow me.”

And so they do. 

You work quickly, breaking a vase as you pass, spraying a bottle of fake blood to make it look like splatter before you have them hold onto you as you crawl out the same way you entered. 

The Agent you worked with most the time was already standing in the streetlight waiting for you to deliver them. “Go with him, he will keep you safe.”

The boy, once again, does not wait to run and you’re sure he is still half asleep. The girl keeps a firm clutch on your hand, forcing you to kneel as a loud bang sounds out, letting you know the Soldat is nearly done. 

“I need you to go.” You whisper, pushing some of the hair from her face and tracing her cheek with your fingers. “He’ll take care of you ….. I promise.”

She nods, crying, but runs off. 

And you don’t have time, but you watch anyways. The way the agent scoops them up and hugs them close, both their arms wrapped tightly around him. You envy it, and you hate it all in the same go. 

They will never see their parents again, they will never know the safety of their home. After today they are ruined. 

But you could at least make sure they get into the car safely before heading back, out of breath with tears falling down your face. 

You’re so panicked about time that you slip on your way in, slipping in the fake blood and slamming into the broken glass of the vase right as the Soldat comes around the corner in a fury. 

You panic, the rage written on his face makes you think he knows. He must know. This was the end and he would go back and find the kids, This will all be ruined. 

But the second he kneels in front of you the rage disappears, instead he is pulling at your limbs so he can look you over, checking you for any injuries you realize. 

“It’s not my blood.” You try to explain. 

“It is.” He snaps, eyes narrowing as he pulls a piece of glass from your hip. “You’re hurt.”

And when you look down you realize it is in fact some of your blood, since you had fallen on the vase. He pulls you to look back at him, keeping his hand on your jaw. “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t check for the kids, he merely drags you away. 

- 

The target was acting weird, both him and his prostitute were. You knew better than that, and you refused to let this one slip away today, you were so sick of watching him and his hookers. 

So you grabbed your gear, and went to work. 

Never take the front door, that was the first rule. So you climbed onto the roof of his apartment building, finding the skylight and carving your way in, sliding down on a rope to land on your feet and pull out your knife prematurely. 

Immediately you know something is off, the sharp feeling in your spine makes you feel like there is a predator near. 

A predator you know all too well by the smell of leather. 

You can’t help the hiss that passes your lips as you whirl to find him, kicking out to knock him off his feet as soon as you can. Only he was prepared for that, catching your foot with his metal, pulling you close only to barely dodge the knife you slash at him, his eyes wide. 

You take his shock to your favor, slashing at him again, his metal arm coming up to protect him. The clash rings out and you hiss again, making him grunt out as you distribute the weight. Only to get knocked off your ass by another figure. 

You had been so distracted with your hate for the Soldat that you missed the red white and blue suit.

You waste no time to twist and attack at them, turning feral with the need to kill.  

And then the fight turns 2 against one. Every slash you make is dodged by a metal shield or a metal arm, every kick is met with one of their own, every punch is caught and pushed away. They both track your movements well, easily even. 

You kick the chest of the Captain, sending him reeling back, throwing a knife to trap his sleeve to the ground as you turn back to the Soldat and move to stab the knife down, he catches it between the crook of his metal arm, grunting out to keep you further back. 

“I don’t want to do this.” He grunts out as you push down with the knife, hissing. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Need?” You laugh bitterly. “I want to do this.”

And you almost got it until he kicked out your feet and sent you reeling back. 

You were getting desperate, panicked, and though you knew better than to let yourself get this way you couldn’t help it. So with no true aim you threw the knife, the Soldat catching it with one hand as you charge at him, triggering the fangs as you use his own knee to launch up, your knee pressing on his shoulder with your right hand pulling his hair to expose his neck while he drops the knife. 

Instead of pulling you off his arms come up to catch you, like natural instinct. And you are pathetic because you hesitate, this is your chance to get him and yet you feel tears in your eyes as you can’t even push your hand to get him. 

And then you’re being thrown as something hits your back, air leaving your lungs. 

Pain laces through you as you fly off him, the shield flying back to the Captain while you fall to the ground. 

Not only do you feel the pain in your back but your hip hits the floor and you cry out, struggling to get back to your feet to keep fighting. 

“Hey! Don’t you dare!” The man in the USA suit orders, pointing at you like you are a dog. “Stop.”

You hiss while the Soldat chuckles, wiping some of the blood from his lip. “Listen-”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging out to attack but it’s no use as you crumble to the ground, your hip giving out. He’s quick to go to help you, only to be pushed back as you reach to snatch another knife only for his boot to step on it. 

“You used to be better at this.” He huffs out, still breathing heavily as the other one comes closer. 

You want to kill him, to yell at him and hit him. You want to tell him that he’s the reason for all of this. But the tears are falling and your hip is throbbing. 

You’re useless. 

“Kill me.” You snap. “Just do it. Get it over with.”

You watch as his face crumbles, pain lacing his features while his partner takes charge. 

“We are here to help you, that is all.” He starts. “You want revenge, that’s understandable. But there are better ways, I promise you.”

“Better ways?” You hiss out a laugh through the tears. “You’re kidding me.”

“You want to ruin these men, and I understand.” He leans down, and you risk a look to the Soldat, who is watching you with a devastating look, you are forced to turn back to the other to avoid getting sick. “You have information on them, you can testify-”

“What? So they can get out of it?” 

“No, they could serve time in-”

“COULD. They could.”

“Then we get revenge.” It’s the Soldat that says this, his voice tight. “We will, I promise. You work with Sam and I and we will get intel on them all, enough so that they don’t have a chance. But no killing.”

You look back and forth between them, watching as they have a silent conversation between them, before the captain finally nods with a deep sigh. 

Soldat turns back to you, kicking the knife to you gently. “Come on.”

“I can get you a full pardon.” His partner offers. “Full pardon of all crimes within the red room to now. So long as the three of us work together.”

“My entire list?” You sneer, risking a look to the Soldat one more time. 

“Entire list.” He nods, watching you closely. 

And then it clicks for you. You’re trapped here, there is no doubt. But if you could get closer, to trap him in, you could finish your promise to yourself. 

You can kill him. 

So, with a final hiss and tears falling down your face you nod slowly, clutching your hands into fists as you answer with a ‘deal.’

- 

The inland taipan is a specialist hunter of mammals, and its venom is adapted to kill warm-blooded species. The venom acts quickly to kill the prey before they can bite back or escape

- 

The Soldat helps you the entire way, even though you weren’t actually hurt, which you tried to tell him. But the arguments were no use, he would hear none of it, instead he pushed to carry you until you both made it home. 

He hauls you to the bathroom, setting you down to start the water and let it heat up before removing your suit as slowly as possible. Once the suit of off he helps you sit down so the cut is exposed and he can clean it. 

The fact that such a small cut would bother him so much nearly makes you laugh, but it also gives you butterflies, and you wonder if this is how normal people feel. So you lean forward, grabbing his attention. And without thinking you kiss him, your lips meeting his as you melt into him. 

This would change everything, and you know it, but you don’t care. And he didn’t either by the way his arms wrap around you, melting into the kiss just as you had. 

- 

You were going to kill the Soldat, it was something you had promised yourself long ago. In the darkened cell they had kept you in, near dead, the only thing keeping you from giving up was that promise. 

‘I will not leave this earth unless he is gone from it’ 

You would kill him, this was fact, no matter what you had to do. Once you did that you could kill yourself.  This final mission was yours.

-

[pxsserine]

oh what am i waiting for? a spell to be cast or for it be be broken? at the very last some wild ghost from my past come to split me wide open?

01.DOSSIER — 02.SKELETON — 03.TASKS — 04.STARTERS

quote from "white out" by aurora engle-pratt + art from speculations by sarah meyohas

FACECLAIM — manny jacinto. CHARACTER NAME — dr. jomari aquino. not that he knows the dr part of things. NICKNAME(S) — please just call him jo. he'll also accept robin, but he might take a second to parse it. GENDER/PRONOUNS — cis man, he/him. SEXUALITY — gay. very much so. HEIGHT — 5' 10".

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES — sharp jawline, hair that always seems to be getting in his eyes despite his best efforts, long limbs, a general sense of poise no matter the situation, which is contrasted with the way he seems to need to fidget with something no matter what. also, the way that he genuinely seems to look put together all the time— if you see him ruffled, that's a sign of him trusting you. but even with that, he can't quite escape a vague air of melancholy.

(finally— he has a crescent moon tattoo on his left ribcage, but no one has probably seen that.)

APPEARS (THE AGE AT TIME OF DEATH) — thirty-five. BIRTHDAY — may 10th. PLACE OF BIRTH — jersey city, new jersey. NATIONALITY — american.

FAMILY INFORMATION — his mother was a nurse and his father was a baker. his mother's side of the family was slightly affluent in the philippines, but it didn't factor much into his day to day life. he also had an older sister, mayumi, who half raised him and half was his closest friend for most of his life.

CAUSE OF DEATH — tripped and hit his head while confronting his partner/being told uncomfortable truths about himself.

TRAITS — + cautious, gentle, intelligent. - codependent, obstinate, withdrawn.

LIKES — mid-century modern furniture, 80s ballads, the smell of bread baking, a gentle quiet, wandering through near vane, freshly ironed clothing, artful clutter, sweater vests, dark chocolate, not having people pry into his business.

DISLIKES — the way that memory hangs like a knife over him, stains, when people bluster their way through things, emotional intimacy, the general existence of his bardo, again REALLY hates it when people are wrong but act like they aren't, dishonesty, when something is done wrong when it could have easily been done right, also... genuine mess.

HOBBIES — baking anything and everything, interior decorating (he tends to pretend to go antiquing in near vane), catching up on all of the media that he's forgotten (film, theater, books, music, you name it— the one thing he hasn't quite gotten a handle on his video games), does doing his job count as a hobby? because it genuinely is one for him.

HABITS — drumming his fingers in pattern he can't quite place, idly fixing wrinkles in his clothes and other people's, twisting at his watch (does it work? no. does he still wear one? yes! it feels comfortable for some reason), and he has a tendency to bring his hands or fiddle at the back of his neck when he's nervous.

EXTRAS —

playlist.

pinterest.

CHARACTER TROPES + INSPIRATIONS — ianto jones (torchwood) // a long standing question of the line between kindness and goodness // clear eyed logic // myfanwy thomas (the rook) — "dear you, this body that you're wearing used to be mine" // helen's eidolon // alphonse elric (fma) // the typhoon album "offerings"

MEMES —

MORAL ALIGNMENT — lawful neutral. ZODIAC/NATAL CHART — taurus sun, gemini moon, libra rising. MBTI — INFJ-T. ENNEAGRAM — 5w6.

[451redirect]

// 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕠𝕣𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕦𝕤, 𝕚 𝕒𝕞 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥. //

𝕊𝕋𝔸𝕋𝕊

FULL NAME . charmaine aquino estrada NICKNAMES/ALIASES . cha (sha), char BIRTHDAY .  march 12th AGE . twenty-eight GENDER . cis-woman PRONOUNS . she/her ORIENTATION . pansexual panromantic  FAMILY .  carmelita aquino (mother), kadar estrada (father), haliya estrada (sister) OCCUPATION . go-go dancer @ heaven’s night, aspiring actress in neo hollywood MARKINGS/TATTOOS . a heart tattoo on her left rib PIERCINGS . double lobe piercings, cartilage piercing on her right ear HEIGHT . 5’2

ℙ𝔼ℝ𝕊𝕆ℕ𝔸𝕃𝕀𝕋𝕐

POSITIVE TRAITS . adaptable, aspiring, compassionate, curious, optimistic, personable, self-reliant  NEGATIVE TRAITS . naive, uncritical, wishful, escapist, impulsive LANGUAGES . english, tagalog, french EDUCATION . high school diploma MORAL ALIGNMENT . neutral good DEADLY SIN . envy HEAVENLY VIRTUE . diligence ZODIAC . pisces sun, taurus moon,  PARALELLS. penny (dr. horrible), jane eyre (jane eyre), jane bennet (pride & prejudice), sailor venus (sailor moon)

𝔸𝔹𝕆𝕌𝕋

There is nothing extraordinary about your existence. [ You continue reiterating this to yourself long after the events that unfold. A coping mechanism of sorts. ] Your mother works as a journalist and your father a mechanic. You interest in acting begins at a young age, enthralled by the old movies that would come across your family's living room T.V., eventually seeking them out yourself when you're old enough. You get along with your older sister as much as one can when you're that close in age.

Your mother disappears one day. You weren't old enough to remember the events directly, depending on the relayed information from your sister and father. She's here one day, and then she's not. The last time she's seen is leaving the headquarters of the publication she works for. There was no reason to believe she wouldn't return home that day, her father assured her and her sister time and time again. Best (or worst?) case scenario is that she's abandoned you, worst case scenario is that something beyond her control has happened to her.

Your family and the community search the ends of the earth for her, but the case eventually goes cold. Your life and the lives of your family are meant to continue on, but it feels nearly impossible with the gaping void left in your mother's absence. You imagined one day you'd finish school, attend some sort of fancy acting college on a full ride scholarship, and make it big in Neo Hollywood.

But you needed out. You do your best to emotionally support both your father and your sister, but you know deep down that the changes that have occurred within all of you are too much for you to bear. You manage to land a job as a go-go dancer, saving up to secure a place of your own, and using your spare time to refine your acting skills and attend auditions.

You can nearly smell your big break. A small speaking role on daytime television turns into something more promising when a lead actress abandons the role in a huff. You're reveling in the excitement of your new role, and completing your yearly health screenings, when it's brought to your attention that you've been encrypted with a chip of sorts, one that is well hidden enough to be overlooked by the average doctor. It's also one too advanced for any "expert" to decrypt you're able to make contact with as a civilian.

It doesn't take long for you to realize who is responsible. Your father eventually fesses up that your mother wasn't just an average journalist, but an investigative journalist, and one who was on the verge of her big break. When she disappeared, as did everything she'd most recently uncovered. It's a difficult pill the swallow, the sort of information you could be harboring within you, and you're torn between what feels like your duty to carry out [ one you resent your mother for thrusting upon you, a woman you never met ], and what is the semblance of normalcy you've managed to craft for yourself. 

[kavalyera]

How many vampire oc's do you have eheh? :P

ohhh thats a lot probably 😭 counting both vampire ocs that are not vtm and im also NOT counting vtm aus of my scp ocs (yeah sorry hearst, ellie, and dr kelley and lillian get outta here)

i have a vtm chronicle in the works right now so to get that out of the way; i have in total of 6 major kindred (vampire) npcs in manila by night that being — alejandra de silva, louisa grace mallari, david ramos, rudy aquino, samuel fernandez and may fernando :)

for my friends’ chronicles and the ocs i play as i have florante, ùlfr, and vivienne peng so 3 here

for my NON-chronicle ocs, i have milena, ellis harmon, alvis thaltcher, romeo portman (4 here)

for vtmb i have a shameless self insert that being ophelia reverie dhdhsh (1 there)

and for my own original works i have vince levesque from my silly dark fantasy story though she’s kinda classified under “demon” more but ehh he has vampiric traits so it counts. and i also have a vampiresona. adding all that together brings me to like about 16 total vampire ocs with 20 if i count my au ocs😭😭

[all-pacas]

I feel like I do this every week, but can we get a sneak peek at some of your wips?

Mostly working at my spoiler fandom exchange project. The WIP (and not fixed) title is Burnout Legends, so take that as you will.

-

Otherwise, I wrote this thing the other day as part of one of my drabble requests. It didn't work even slightly but I kind of had fun with it and am saving it as the potential start of a different story someday:

For the first month of Chase’s fellowship, they don’t have a single case. House is never in before ten, so Chase makes sure to be in by nine-thirty. Spends his days reading journals and daydreaming. Four hours in the clinic a week. Twice, he’s pulled into NICU to cover an absence.

House leaves promptly at five. Chase heads home at ten after.

-

Hernandez is the only other one in Diagnostics. Him and Jacobs, although she’d quit two days after Chase was fired, which at the time almost felt personal. Hernandez is in his late thirties, touchy, and Chase never learns his first name. He rolls his eyes whenever Chase says something, dismisses his every idea. Chase isn’t sure if he’s supposed to argue or just take it. He watches House for clues but House never says anything one way or another.

Six weeks into Chase’s contract they finally get a patient. Woman, forties, and her potassium keeps crashing. Chase spends sixteen hours and two heart attacks at her bedside while House stomps around asking questions and Hernandez fails to answer. “At least Chase is capable of doing something useful around here!” House snaps around hour twenty eight. By the next day, they have a diagnosis of Bartter Syndrome, and Chase is down a coworker.

-

A week later House hires a guy named Munoz. Just out of a cardiology residency, a real hot-shot who tells Chase in their first conversation he finished med school in three years and his under graduate in two. Their first case he completely shuts down, stammering and panicking under pressure, and he quits after three days.

Jacobs is a gastroenterologist. She’s nice enough: married, has two young kids. She and Chase get lunch a couple of times, and when she lasts the first month he starts to think she might last. Then her oldest gets the flu while they’re in the middle of a case. Chase isn’t sure if House fires her for taking time off or if she’d simply seen the writing on the wall and quit.

Gillespi and Okada and Palmer last about a week each, and Chase barely bothers trying to remember their names. Okada an oncologist House takes on to annoy Wilson; Palmer is quiet and smart but bursts into tears the first time House tells her off. It’s embarrassing and uncomfortable, and when she storms out, she gives Chase a look like it’s his fault for not sticking up for her.

Gillespi was the worst: he’s a rheumatologist, and on his first day House pretended to get excited about how much he and Chase had in common. Turned out, Gillespi had gone to several of the same conferences as Chase’s father, and took pains to let Chase know how much he admired the man. Luckily, he’d only lasted a few days before getting fired for screwing up a basic procedure.

Dr. Wise was next: Chase suspects House decides to keep him based entirely on the jokes to be made of his name. He’s forty, spend years working in free clinics and doing good, but at first House seems taken with the guy: Wise, he loves to remind Chase, has street smarts, meaning that last time House tried to scam them both out of money, Chase had given him forty bucks and Wise hadn’t given in.

Wise lasts almost three months and spends most of that time smiling patronizingly at Chase and telling him that, in his experience, everything Chase just said is wrong. But then his habit of second guessing spread to House itself, and he was out the door.

The last one is a Filipino guy named Aquino. House jokes that he and Chase should get along, since they’re both from the same backwards part of the world (Aquino is from Dallas), but he’s okay: if by now Chase didn’t know better he might have actually bothered to get to know him.

-

For a month after Aquino quits, it’s just Chase. He gets House’s morning routine figured out, befriends a couple of the girls in reception. If he starts a pot of coffee at nine thirty and one of them gives him a head’s up, he can have a fresh cup ready for House when he strolls through the door. The first time Chase pulls this off, House gives him a funny look: the third time House laughs aloud. “Cute,” he says, tossing Chase a file. “But you’re not my type. Go keep our new patient alive, Wilson’s interviewing your new baby brother.”

“How long do I keep Ms. Strickland alive?”

“If this new guy isn’t totally useless, I expect you back here at eleven for the DDX.”

Maran doesn’t make it past his first day.

-

House doesn’t hire anyone else for a while. Chase gets him coffee in the mornings, tries his hand at sudoku, and starts to relax. Then one day he comes into the office to find a girl standing there, awkward in the middle of the room and still in her coat. She’s younger than the last few hires — Chase’s age — and pretty, too pretty, enough that by the time Chase closes the door behind him he’s decided she’s a vanity hire, pretty enough House couldn’t resist, vastly under-qualified, and won’t last the week.

“You new here?” he asks kindly, taking off his jacket. If House doesn’t get offended, maybe Chase’ll ask her for drinks once she quits.

“Yes!” She’s nervous. Smiles awkwardly, covers her exclamation. “I was told to be in by nine…”

“House’ll be in in an hour or so. Maybe.” He doesn’t usually bother anymore, but Chase offers his hand, introduces himself: she really is very pretty.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she says, too perky — he rethinks his drink plans — “I’m Allison Cameron.”

[selfindulgentcompetition]

HERE ARE OUR COMPETITORS!

Matchups Below

Round 1A: BIDEOS GAME

1: Infernape (Pokémon) VS Togekiss (Pokémon)

2: Hisuian Typlosion (Pokémon) VS Maushold (Pokémon)

3: Corphish (Pokémon) VS Snom (Pokémon)

4: Emma (Pokémon X&Y) VS Yellow (Pokémon Manga)

5: Enderman (Minecraft) VS Blaze the Cat (Sonic)

6: Cait (Fallout 4) VS Shane (Stardew Valley)

7: Mask (Wandersong) VS Dahlia Aquino (Monster Camp)

8: Jethro (OK K.O.! : Lakewood Plaza Turbo) VS Wolfgang (Animal Crossing)

ROUND 1B: TTRPG ACTUAL PLAY

1: Adaine Abernant (Dimension 20) VS Ayda Augefort (Dimension 20)

2: Lucretia (The Adventure Zone) VS Angus McDonald (The Adventure Zone)

3: Dr. Throlo Sh’shirros (Shield of Tomorrow) VS Cassie Charke (Callisto 6)

4: Patia Por’co (EXU: Calamity) VS Lacy LaGrangia-Franklin (Callisto 6)

5: Laudna (Critical Role) VS Yasha Nydoorin (Critical Role)

6: Ashton Greymoore (Critical Role) VS Cassandra de Rolo (Legend of Vox Machina)

7: Sunny Biscotto (Dimension 20) VS Zayn Darkshadow (Dimension 20)

8: Egwene Kindleaf (NADDPod) VS Slap (Callisto 6)

ROUND 1C: ANIMATION

1: Lysil and Angwin (Amphibia) VS Chuck (Amphibia)

2: General Yunan (Amphibia) VS Bessie (Amphibia)

3: Vee Noceda (The Owl House) VS Lilith Clawthorne (The Owl House)

4: Scorpia (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power 2018) VS Entrapta (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power 2018)

5: Peridot (Steven Universe) VS Lake (Infinity Train)

6: Red Action (OK K.O.!) VS Dendy (OK K.O.!)

7: Vitani (The Lion King/Guard) VS Sunset Shimmer (MLP: Equestria Girls)

8: Trixie Lulamoon (MLP:FiM) VS Starlight Glimmer (MLP:FiM)

ROUND 1D: MISCELLANEOUS

1: 13th Doctor (Doctor Who) VS Earth Kingdom Zuko (A:TLA)

2: Ty Lee (A:TLA) VS Bolin (TLoK)

3: Raven (Teen Titans) VS Terra (Teen Titans)

4: Horse (Centaurworld) VS Monster Girl (Invincible)

5: The Calamity Trio (Amphibia) VS Tigress (Kung Fu Panda)

6: Sea Lions (Real Life) VS Smilodon (Real Life, but a long time ago)

7: Maiasaura (Real Life, but like even longer ago) VS TBH Autism Creature (My Heart)

8: Todd (From Mario) (Drawfee) (Mario) VS Rah’ōxah (Drawga)

[sweetkoalastarfish]

Guardians of Freedom: The Stories of Philippines National Heroes

In the Philippines, national heroes are revered figures who have significantly contributed to the country's history, Independence, and cultural development. Here are some prominent national heroes along with thei contributions and courage:

1. Dr. Jose Rizal: Known as the national hero of the Philippines, Dr. Jose Rizal was an opthalmologist, writer, and revolutionary. His novels, "Noli Me Tangere" and "El Filibusterismo", criticized Spanish colonial rule and called for reforms, inspiring the movement for Philippine Independence. His martyrdom in 1896 sparked a nationwide uprising against Spanish colonization.

2. Andres Bonifacio: A key figure in the Philippine Revolution, Andres Bonifacio was the founder of the Katipunan, a revolutionary society that aimed to overthrow Spanish rule. His leadership and bravery in mobilizing the Filipino people to fight for freedom were instrumental in the fight for Independence. He is known for his decisive and courageous actions.

3. Emilio Aguinaldo: Emilio Aguinaldo was a military leader and the first president of the Philippines. He played a crucial role in the Philippine Revolution against Spain and later in the Philippine-American War. Aguinaldo declared Philippine Independence on June 12, 1898, marking country's assertion of sovereignty.

4. Melchora Aquino ( Tandang Sora): Known as the " Mother of the Katipunan", Melchora Aquino provided support to the revolutionaries during the Philippine Revolution. Her courage and commitment to the cause made her a symbol of maternal strength and patriotism.

5. Gabriela Silang: A revolutionary leader and the first female revolutionary leader in Philippines history. Gabriela Silang continued the resistance against Spanish rule after her husband, Diego Silang, was assassinated. Her leadership and bravery made her a notable figure in the fight for Independence.

6. Apolinario Mabini: Known as the " Sublime Paralytic", Apolinario was a key advisor to Emilio Aguinaldo and a revolutionary thinker. Despite his physical limitations, he played a pivotal role in the Philippine Revolution and the early days of the Philippine Republic.

7. Diego Silang: He was a revolutionary leader in Ilocos region during the 18th century. He is best known for leading the Ilocano revolt against the Spanish authorities, known as the Silang Revolt. Diego Silang's revolt was driven by opposition to the oppressive Spanish policies, including high taxes, forced labor, and abuses by local officials.

In 1762, during the British occupation of Manila, Diego Silang saw an opportunity to push for Ilocano Independence. He declared the Independence of Ilocos from Spanish rule and established the "Free Ilocos" advocating for self-governance and autonomy. Silang's bravery and charismatic leadership inspired many Ilocanos to join his cause. Unfortunately, his rebellion was short-lived. He was assassinated in 1763 by a trusted companion, Miguel Vicos, who was bribed by the Spanish. Despite his untimely death, Diego Silang's legacy of resistance and courage continued to inspire other revolutionaries, including his wife, Gabriela Silang, who took up the cause after his assassination.

These heroes, among others, are celebrated for their significant contributions to the country's history, their courage in the face of adversity, and their enduring legacy in the fight for Philippine Independence and national Identity. Each hero's life and story reflect the broader struggle for freedom, justice and national pride.

Thank you for reading. Until next time, salamat and see you soon!

[milkboydotnet]

After the collapse of the Marcos regime in 1986, the Philippine military’s rediscovery of more conventional pacification methods coincided with codification of a special warfare doctrine by its main ally. In July 1986 the U.S. Army’s Command and General Staff College published its Field Circular: Low Intensity Conflict with a detailed explanation of the new tactics that the Philippine military embraced with apparent enthusiasm. While conventional military science applies maximum firepower against an enemy, LIC “is often characterized by constraints on the weaponry… and the level of violence” since counterinsurgency is above all “the art and science of developing. . . political, economic, psychological and military powers of a government." At the core of the formal LIC doctrine was a combination of social reform and unconventional military procedures, fusing appropriate force with “psychological operations.” Without “unduly disrupting the cultural system,’ the host government should “broaden the bases of political power through education and health programs.” Beyond such psywar and civic action, the Field Circular also advocated “eliminating or neutralizing the insurgent leadership” — words that repressive third world militaries could readily construe as a recommendation for selective assassination. Only months after the doctrine’s release, President Reagan reportedly signed a “finding” that authorized a two-year, $10 million CIA counterinsurgency effort in the Philippines. Reflecting the administration’s reliance on privatized covert operations, the Philippines, like El Salvador and Nicaragua, suddenly experienced a proliferation of Christian anticommunist propaganda and paramilitary death squads. Throughout 1987, Filipino anticommunist activists received a remarkable array of foreign visitors: Gen. John Singlaub (ret.), a former CIA officer who now headed the U.S. chapter of the World Anti-Communist League (WACL); Dr. John Whitehall, a representative of the Christian Anti-Communist Crusade; and agents of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s anticommunist CAUSA. During his visit to Manila, General Singlaub, earlier identified with death squad activity in South Vietnam and Central America, met CIA station chief Norbert Garrett, AFP chief of staff Fidel Ramos, and Gen. Luis Villareal, head of both the National Intelligence Coordinating Agency and WACL’s Philippine chapter. Their recommendations found a receptive audience in Aquino’s government, particularly from Interior Secretary Jaime Ferrer, who had used CIA funds to organize election monitors in the 1950s and was now promoting armed vigilantes. The Reagan administration also showed strong “animosity toward the liberal approach” to land reform, allying with conservatives in the Aquino cabinet to block any serious land redistribution. In this same volatile period, Col. James N. Rowe, commander of the green beret training program at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, arrived in Manila to head the army detachment within the Joint U.S. Military Advisory Group. As a veteran of U.S. Army Special Forces operations in Vietnam, where he was famed for escaping after five years in a Vietcong prison camp, Rowe was uniquely qualified to revitalize the country’s counterinsurgency after a decade of decline under Marcos. Indeed, the posting of this top special warfare expert—who was intense, disciplined, and militantly anticommunist—was a strong sign of Washington’s renewed interest in the Philippines. During his year in Manila in 1988 -89, Rowe, according to the Manila Times, “worked closely with the CIA and was involved in a program to penetrate the NPA and the Communist Party of the Philippines which were both undergoing massive ideological upheavals that resulted in bloody purges.’ A Filipino security specialist described him as “clandestinely involved in the organization of anti-communist death squads like Alsa Masa and vigilante groups patterned after “Operation Phoenix’ in Vietnam which had the objective of eliminating legal and semi-legal mass activists.”

Alfred W. McCoy, Policing America's Empire: The United States, the Philippines, and the Rise of the Surveillance State

[bdsrsated]

Mela Lee is an American voice actress She is best known as the voice of Jade in Mortal Kombat 11. Lizzie Aguinaldo (Pop Star Philippines) Singer Renato Clarete Tranquilino (The Author) is a Filipino-AustralianIT Professional who has an interest in sci-fi fantasy films and writing stories Darth Vader Vs BDMS Dr. Michele Alignay (registered psychologist, speaker, and an award-winning author) Tomia (Korea Cosplayer) GN Santiago (Comic Creator, Publisher at PartyZone) Bambi Eloriaga-Amago (Writer) and Sir Roland Amago (Illustrator) Best Known Doobiedoo Asks Kevin Eric Raymundo Best Known Tarantadong Kalbo Angelika Dela Peña (Artist) Sentinels From Marvel Created By Sir Mic Mac Toys (Toy Maker) Ivyree Rosario of Little Things PH (Artist and Book Author) Josue Mapagdalita (Best Known Mula sa Kilometer Zero) Book Author Andre Paras (Pro Basketball Player and Actor) JB Tapia (Best Known Trese Present: Verdugo) Comic Artist and Writer Michael Andres Subido (Sintra Board white Using To Make Toys and Mic Mac Toys Expert) Joe Maquirang (Famous Cosplayer) Baninay Bautista [Pinoy Big Brother Lucky 7] Bont Bryan Oropel (Youtuber and Vlogger) Master Hokage Princess Malonzo (Voice Actress From Ella Arcangel, Community Manager and Publishing Editor MariaSong Cosplayer Mervin Malonzo (The Author of Tabi Po: Isyu 1) ★ National Book Awardee for Graphic Literature (Filipino) ★ DJ S.J. Wolf (The Author of Under the City Lights) Kylie V Milanes (The Author of Echo) Publisher HS Grafik Print Bola.Tv Free Tshirt Thank you po Marlou Aquino (Pro Basketball Player From PBA and MPBL) Diane Sabandeja (Internet personality) Sir Wick, Sir Tim and Sir Clin (Talent People) Chris Timola (Airbrush Artist) D. Borja (The popular Filipino web comics Best Known HungHang Flashbacks) Jio Jalalon Pro Basketball Player From MAGNOLIA CHICKEN TIMPLADOS HOTSHOTS Frany (Comic Artist From Mask of Haliya Issue 3, Marvel and Dc Comics) Tamagotchi Collection Al Francis Tamsi Former FEU Basketball Champ 2015 Gizmo From Superbook Autograph Sign with Drawing By Sir Kajo Baldisimo The Creator Trese Netflix Tobera Member Tsubasa, Taka, Eto, Neon, Daiki, Arata

[darkangel1791]

Random Thoughts on The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

I am aware that every line in every scene is there for dramatic and/or comedic purposes. So there's no need to point that out. It isn't that I didn't get the point or the joke. This is also nothing against Amy Aquino, who plays Dr. Raynor. This is just an opinion piece based on the reality that the show wants us to accept.

Trigger warnings for mental health and mental health treatment, and power dynamics.

From an actual standpoint of mental health and therapy, in 2024, Dr. Raynor is a terrible therapist.

So many reasons! Let's start with when she said to Bucky "The government wants to make sure you aren't gonna (mimes stabbing people)". A therapist, of all people, would always use their words! Always! Bucky communicates verbally, so the therapist must also. If she was afraid to say it to Bucky then she shouldn't have brought it up. Also, if she hasn't caught on yet that Bucky's major problem is that he was a killer and that haunts him, Bucky should have a different therapist. So she shouldn't have approached such a sensitive topic in such a flippant way. That would just make him shut down.

I think this plan about making a list and making amends with the 3 rules was something she put in place as part of his treatment plan. Doesn't seem like the sort of thing Bucky would come up with on his own, and I doubt that the government would condone him making contact with former Hydra members or families of his victims unless it was part of a sanctioned treatment plan, at least. That shows that as a therapist, she is results driven. If a results driven therapist asks if you're having nightmares, they will next want to know what you are doing to alleviate the problem. So Bucky most likely says no because he knows she doesn't actually care about the nightmares. They have probably already had that conversation once. When Sam asks the same question, Bucky says "All the time," without hesitation. Also, if she was any kind of a therapist, she would have asked enough questions to know that Bucky isn't having nightmares, he is having flashbacks, which is a different mental process.

"Give me your phone." No, absolutely not! That tramples on so many privacy boundaries, it is unreal! It is also a misuse of power, and the power dynamic, because what if he says no? She has the power to tell the government that he is a dangerous psychopath and get him locked away forever.

But, after invading his privacy in this way, she uses the information she gets to criticize and mock him? No. That is doubling down on the abuse of the power dynamic.

"What do you want now?"

"Peace."

"THAT IS UTTER BULLSHIT!"

Ummmmm, no. If a client is lying to the therapist, or to themselves, you deal with it in a completely different way. Yelling is never okay. Telling a person with mental health problems that you don't believe what they are saying, calling them a liar, is not treatment. She gives no context for why she thinks that is a lie, or why she thinks Bucky would lie to her. Or why she thinks that he would lie about that subject.

Finally, the notebook thing is absolutely passive aggressive. "You don't talk, I write." That is psychological manipulation. I can only imagine that whatever she writes is used in the weekly report she sends to the government. What if she writes that he is being uncooperative? The parole is revoked, he gets locked up. So she is putting him in a situation where he is forced to say something. But not about his true problems, nor will it be truthful information. We see that he lies to her when describing what he did to cross the most recent name off of the list. Which, of course he does! Along with that, step 3, being forced to identify yourself as the Winter Soldier and by name as who you are now, is incredibly dangerous and puts him in a very vulnerable position. That entire thing is completely out of whack with good, safe, mental health treatment.

I'm sure I have left things out, but this is long enough already. I'll do another post on the second session that we see.

Again ymmv, your mileage may vary. Meaning that these opinions are mine alone. They do not invalidate yours, or anyone else's who has written or spoken on the subject. No offense is meant. Your view of the subject is valid and I am not trying to negate that view by expressing my own.

In closing, when you first enter the office of a therapist, take pictures of, or write down, the information on the credentials they have displayed. If there are no credentials displayed, ask why and what their credentials are. If your therapist ever makes you feel threatened or ridiculed, don't go back! Ever! And report them to whatever organization their displayed licenses are from.

Dr. Raynor was a terrible therapist pt. 2

[mentaldiary-ah]

Women fighters, in fiction and in reality, have always fascinated me.

I grew up never getting tired of The Mummy Returns (2001) and its action-packed adventures. It features one of my most favorite cinematic moments: the fight scene between Nefertiri and Anck-su-namun, both tasked to be protectors in the kingdom of Egypt some 3,000 years ago. One may think they must be ahead of their time for training women for battle and assigning such tasks to them.

Fight scene from The Mummy Returns (2001)

There are many other scenes in the said film showing both women as their 1930s reincarnation, Evy (Nefertiri) and Meela (Anck-su-namun), fighting with and among men. Not once did Rick, Evy's husband, handed over guns to her to help them battle the enemies and save their son. Their kind of relationship was yet another reason why I have always loved that film.

Seeing The Mummy Returns again for the nth time, I figured these female characters have played a significant part in my upbringing. They showed me women can fight, too, when it was most needed. They didn't have to be the stereotypical damsels in distress waiting to be rescued because they can save themselves while saving others, as well. In retrospect, at such a young age I knew I wanted to be like them. I wasn't very much into the princess thingy, except for the Xena the Warrior Princess kind. In fact, I once dreamed of becoming like the Power Rangers with all their skills and stunts.

Through the years, I have been learning more about Filipinas who left their mark in our history. In an era of a patriarchal society where women were reinforced to be homemakers & deemed as the lesser sex, there were several of them who strayed against the conventions and took part in the never-ending fight for freedom.

Illustrations of Gabriela Silang (by Carlito Rovira) (top) and the first female general Agueda Kahabagan (from SCOUT Magazine) (bottom) during the Philippine Revolution

One of them was notorious for polishing her nails and putting on red lipstick before going to battle, because she believed she also fought for the freedom to be herself as a woman. Another one used to be a movie superstar until the war. She joined the guerrilla movement to avenge for her husband's murder, and in the process she saved an entire village from being killed by the colonizers.

The women of HUKBALAHAP (Hukbong Bayan Laban sa Hapon), clockwise from left:

Remedios Gomez-Paraiso AKA Kumander Liwayway and her red lipstick (art from Rejected Princesses); Carmen Rosales, movie star-turned guerilla fighter (from Flickr); Felipa Culala AKA Kumander Dayang-Dayang (art by Dos Garcia); and Simeona Punsalan-Tapang AKA Kumander Guerrero (art by @RoriComics on Twitter)

But the courage of Filipina women in history has been witnessed not only at home and in the battlefield. There were women who stood up for their right to receive formal education and their right to vote.

Top photo: a painting of The Women of Malolos (art by Rafael del Casal); bottom photo: U.S. First Lady Florence Harding w/ Filipina suffragette delegation, 1922 (From US-Philippines Society)

There were women who saved people's lives by caring for the injured and the sick and feeding the hungry.

Clockwise from left: Melchora Aquino AKA Tandang Sora (from Wikipedia); Josefa Llanes-Escoda (from Bayaning Filipino on Blogger); Maria Orosa (from Orosa Family); and Dr. Fe del Mundo (from National Academy of Science and Technology)

There were women who continue to fight for justice and for their right to be heard, not just as victims but survivors of a violent, tragic past.

Top photo: the Malaya Lolas of Candaba, Pampanga; bottom photo: the lolas of Lila Pilipina. Both are groups of “comfort women,” survivors of military sexual violence during the Japanese Occupation. (From Facebook)

There were women who prove themselves worthy to be recognized by the world for their talents, abilities, and dedication in their respective fields.

Hidilyn Diaz, the first Filipino Olympic gold medalist; and Maria Ressa, the first Filipino Nobel Laureate (From Esquire Philippines)

There were women leaders who empowered their countrymen towards a better quality of life.

Campaign images of Senator Risa Hontiveros and former Senator Leila de Lima for the 2022 National Elections (From Facebook)

Atty. Leni Robredo, former Vice President of the Philippines (From Esquire Philippines)

And before I forget, I was raised and surrounded by strong women who all the while face their own share of battles in life.

We as women are fighters, and we should never let anyone tell us otherwise.

Meanwhile, I believe I have arrived at a full circle. I may haven't reached my dream of becoming a Power Ranger but who would have thought that as an adult, I would portray a woman fighter myself?

Happy Women's Month!

[ultralightpoe]

Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count:9,131

Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.

Main Masterlist

Enjoy!

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

-

It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.

Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.  

But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world. 

Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it? 

In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing. 

Even ghosts had more than you at this point. 

“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” 

You say nothing. 

“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together. 

“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too. 

“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?” 

“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.” 

“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?” 

“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?” 

Why did she not have a clock?

“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer. 

“Nope.” 

“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.” 

Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point. 

“Can you recall what he looked like?” 

A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-

“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”

“Have you tried reaching out?” 

“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge. 

Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to. 

Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.  

-

It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine. 

You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared. 

The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits. 

“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.” 

“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission. 

Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you. 

You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point. 

“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors. 

They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?

They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges. 

The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go. 

“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there. 

This mission is going to go well. 

-

“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.” 

“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?” 

“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo. 

“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?” 

“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.” 

“Inside or outside?” 

“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet. 

“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier….. 

“Tell me what you have been up to lately.” 

“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.” 

“Someone from your time as the soldier?” 

“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up. 

“For revenge?” 

“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits. 

Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?” 

“She didn’t like that name.” 

“How did she get it?” 

“Me.” 

“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?” 

“Flower.”

- 

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be. 

Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus. 

Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger. 

But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place. 

Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof. 

“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you. 

It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look. 

“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them. 

They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.  

“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.” 

The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform. 

“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof. 

The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain. 

“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up. 

“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”

“Where does the viper come from?” 

“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other. 

A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it. 

Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view. 

“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs. 

“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“ 

Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back. 

“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof. 

But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you. 

“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?” 

“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“ 

You were disgusted that you ever told him such things. 

“LET GO!” 

“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.” 

“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that. 

“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“ 

“Let me go!” 

“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.” 

“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier. 

“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.” 

“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have? 

- 

It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane. 

You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long. 

The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did. 

They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you. 

Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you. 

“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons. 

“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?” 

“Soldat.” 

“What’s your real name?” 

“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?” 

“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more. 

He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow. 

When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features. 

You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.” 

As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father. 

“You do not make moves without me. Understood?” 

“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go. 

“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed. 

-

The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth. 

You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care. 

But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it. 

But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved. 

“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger….. 

“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”

“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself. 

“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“ 

“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.” 

“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.” 

“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.” 

His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?” 

He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.” 

“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found. 

“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.” 

“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught. 

“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck. 

He was going to puke, how many kids had….. 

“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“ 

“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.” 

“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you. 

“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes. 

You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you. 

- 

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

-

It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name. 

Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first. 

Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list. 

“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.” 

“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you. 

“You don’t seem to like it.” 

“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.” 

“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him. 

The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing. 

But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become. 

“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw. 

“Always. You?” 

“With you my little flower? Always.” 

-

It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace. 

Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other. 

“Do we have-“ 

“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.” 

“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?” 

“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie. 

“Say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Call Barnes a dumbass.” 

“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives. 

“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him. 

“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours. 

“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs. 

“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up. 

You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it. 

-

“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other . 

Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet. 

“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.” 

“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly. 

“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter. 

“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.” 

“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”

“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”

There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions. 

“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice. 

“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him. 

Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog. 

“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing. 

“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them. 

“It seems like it went wrong…” 

“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap. 

“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.

“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”

“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”

“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.” 

You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later. 

Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”

“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”

“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”

- 

She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

- 

“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house. 

“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”

“Stick to my side.”

“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love. 

“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep. 

The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”

But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm. 

“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”

“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”

“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”

“The mission-”

“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them. 

When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes. 

You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off. 

But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely. 

“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”

He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future. 

And for once you felt like…. You were home. 

- 

The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact. 

You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him. 

And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore. 

He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place. 

“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch. 

“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”

“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”

“You got another name?”

“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together. 

“Yes. We can. Your list?” 

“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on. 

His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?

He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”

Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story. 

“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again. 

“Why what?”

“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”

“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”

“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”

“Your list?” You ask and he nods. 

“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”

“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.  

- 

Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars. 

“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”

“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding. 

“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”

“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly. 

“It’s empty though.” 

“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”

“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”

You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?

“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door. 

“That’s an ugly welcome mat.” 

“Is not.”

“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?” 

“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”

“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”

“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits. 

“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”

“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”

This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.

“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”

“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”

“You don’t have to.” He mumbles. 

“But I will. Let’s go.”

- 

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

- 

“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”

“If you got away what would you do?”

“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life. 

“That sounds… amazing, flower.” 

You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back. 

You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you. 

- 

“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”

“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)

“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)

You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”

“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”

“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs. 

“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”

“You get your job back?” Sam snides.  John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally. 

“Get your-”

“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back. 

“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?) 

“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together. 

- 

You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same. 

“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you. 

“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him. 

“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”

“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”

“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.” 

“I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up-”

“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in. 

“I-”

“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming. 

“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm. 

“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”

“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer. 

“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”

You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off. 

You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart. 

“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart. 

“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side. 

“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”

“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces. 

“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both. 

You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit. 

- 

There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water. 

You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud. 

“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”

You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment. 

- 

Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going. 

Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air. 

“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze. 

Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding. 

You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t. 

“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind. 

“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on. 

“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car. 

“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”

“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening. 

There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car. 

“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well. 

“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m-”

“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam. 

“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”

“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”

You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.   

- 

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shh again

- 

You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train. 

Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability. 

You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need. 

“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing. 

“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good. 

“I mean…. After this mission.” 

“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel. 

“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes. 

“You saw that?”

“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”

“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.” 

You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven. 

“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop. 

“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up. 

“I don’t deserve it.” 

“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”

“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles. 

- 

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”

“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental. 

Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year. 

The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly. 

“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons. 

“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw. 

“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away. 

“For?”

“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room. 

“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky. 

“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.

[wendellcapili]

UP CMC (Broadcast Communication) & UP SAMASKOM alumnus Jeffrey Jeturian celebrated his birthday at Chef Paolo Bustamante's FIVE Private Dining in Greenhills. Chef Pao is an LSGH, Kundirana, UP CMC (Broadcast Communication) & UP Broadcasting Association alumnus (he was a former UP BroadAss President).

(L) New York-based pediatrician Dr. Manny See, designer Petra Lim, JWC, actress & UP Baguio (Communication) alumna Angel Aquino, journalist Cesar M. Evangelista, SOHO International Film Festival NYC (SohoFilmFest) President and Founder & SOHO Creative Lab Chair Justin Girard, film & TV director Jeffrey Jeturian and visual artist & UP CFA alumnus Jay Lozada.

Chef Pao’s FIVE Private Dining is on the third floor of Block 113, formerly Fox Square Center, on Connecticut Street in Greenhills, San Juan City. Reservations can be made at +63 945 119 1555 or fiveprivatedining@gmail.com. It operates from Tuesday to Saturday and offers dinner service with a five-hour reservation period. For additional information, please visit their official Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/fiveprivatedining.

[grymmrp]

Something  stirs  at  the  base  of  your  shoulder  blades,  and  you  feel  a  growing  warmth  before  a  bright  flash  of  light  blinds  you  momentarily.  Stretching  them  over  your  head,  full  of  wonder  you  inspect  your  brand  new  appendages.

Your  wings  are  a  soft  shade  of  grey  with  a  delicate  patch  of  fluffier  white  and  brown  ones  near  the  center.  Your  eyes  trail  the  full  length  of  your  primary  feathers,  each  plume  splayed  at  the  ends  like  paper  fans.  Then  the  wonder  fades  …  Who  and  what  are  you?  The  sensation  of  dread  settles  in  the  pit  of  your  stomach,  a  familiar  twinge  of  someone  you  once  were.  Quick,  a  lifeline.  A  lighthouse  on  the  shore.  Whatever  you  must  do  to  survive,  embrace  and  cling.  You  have  always  known  yourself  to  be  a  little  codependent.

Don't  fret,  Reaper,  your  wings  are  that  of  a  𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗.

Character Parallels: Alphonse Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist), Roxas (Kingdom Hearts II)

TW: references to murder, implied intimate partner violence.

𝙴𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚞𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎 dr. jomari “jo” aquino. 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 thirty-five. 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 / 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜 cis man, he/him. 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 manny jacinto. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 closed.

PROFILE.

Who are you, if not a piece of every person you've ever met? 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗 wishes they could remember their Before, even if just a fading sliver of a memory. Back when they used to be nothing but a simple shade, the fear of the unknown grasped them at their core. Despite the warm guidance from 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊 and the other employees from the Shade Advocacy Office that all would be well, 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗 refused to set foot in their personal bardo, petrified. No one, including them, would believe they'd be selected for Lustration and actually pass the exam, and end up among the best up-and-comers like 𝙺𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚕 or 𝙳𝚘𝚟𝚎. They've made the best of what they've given. And yet, the shade yearns for the soul they've forgotten. Could 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 show them what they have lost if 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚎 is to be found?

RECENT COLLECTION.

Homo Sapien soul; aged 23 years; Helsingør, Denmark. University Student, victim of a crime of passion.

INTERTWINED DESTINIES.

𝙺𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚕

it's easier to think that they only see you as a henchman. it'll feel less like a betrayal when you reap 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚎 from under their wings if you think about it that way.

𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚎

maybe you are mistaken, but you swear you saw them talking to a human when you were out on a mission.

𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚒𝚕

you tend to watch them whenever you are in their presence. trying to learn from the way they navigate the world.

𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑

it says a lot that their plucky determination is able to get a cynic like you to care.