#but anything he says is monitored by sprout

[dead-cr0w]

Uhm

Mostly updated list of all of us!

Someone get them out of my head please

Also red before there name means they are not very good or you should be cautious

Sunny ☀️

Evelyn🐑

🟥The beast🐕

The raven🐦‍⬛

Nexus🪐

🟥Atlas🌎

Speckles🌾

Uzi🌌

N✏️

V🩸

J📋

The other 🪞

Cosmo🍩

🟥Twisted Cosmo🍩⚫️

Sprout 🍓

🟥Twisted Sprout🍓⚫️

Shelly🦖

Twisted Shelly🦖⚫️

Goob🪢

Glisten🪞🎀

Alice🦌

Astro✨

Cas 🌃

Dandy 🌼🌈

Sunny ☀️ 🩸

Sun 🌻

Sun 🌇

Moon 🌙

Moon 🌕

Star 💫

🟥Coyote 🐺

Coyote 🕯️

Four 4️⃣

Two 2️⃣

Nine 9️⃣

🟥Fourteen 🍴

X ❌

Gigi 🌸

Lightbulb 💡

🟥Lightbulb ⚡️

Nyx 🪩

Oliver ⏳

Ouroboros ♾️

Raccoon 🦝

Rodger 🔎

Toodles 🎱

Shrimpo 🍤

Taco 🌮

Test tube 🧪

🟥Test tube 🥽

Trophy 🏆

Zi 🦇

[dahliakbs]

Retired Villain

(⁠ ๑Batfam X Reader - Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne and Tim Drakeﾉ⁠♡ ⁠)

Masterlist

╠You'd put your reckless lifestyle behind in favor of living a boring civilian life, knowing that you wouldn't get anywhere in life if you kept getting beaten up and sent to jail over and over like it was the only thing life had to offer.

You thought that putting your past behind you and creating yourself a fresh start would finally put the bats off your trail...

But sadly for you, it had only taken your cities vigilantes about two weeks to find out where you lived.

Even though they'd found out where you lived and how you'd decided to turn your life around they didn't believe it.

And instead of taking the information at face value they'd decided to check up on you in person.

And that they did.

Now you would've thought that they'd leave you alone after just the first few times but no, they'd started popping up everywhere. Using the excuse of your old atrocities to monitor you almost every waking moment of the day.

And when I say every I mean every.

Your at the supermarket, buying food like everyone else and Nightwing just randomly shows up out of nowhere. Bugging you and using the excuse of monitoring you to justify his presence.

"I know times are dire but stealing milk from the supermart?" you could see his outline in your peripheral, propping himself up against the fridge next to you.

He's shaking his head playfully before moving to take your cart away from you. You knew he was aware that you weren't gonna steal anything but apparently teasing you was his new favorite hobby.

"For the last time, I'm not stealing anything from this store" you huffed before dumping the carton of milk into the cart he'd taken from you.

"This store, so how about the next one?"

You could already feel the gray hairs sprouting, it was like he was sucking all the energy out of you and you could do nothing about it.

Well, at least he helped you with the shopping right?

While your on your way making your way to work one of the Robins will just mysteriously appear next to you, specifically the youngest one. Always giving off a clear air of distaste towards your entire being but still accompanying you on your way to work.

"Don't you have school kid?" you ask, it was like nine in the morning and he was casually walking next to you as if he didn't have somewhere to be right now.

"I don't need to go to school, besides I'm stuck monitoring criminals like you" he stated and you could already feel him drilling holes into the side of your head.

This kid really has no chill...

"Well if it makes you feel any better I also don't like having people watch me 24/7" you could feel your shoulders sag at the thought of having to put up with the bat and his tiny army of children.

Even when you were simply relaxing in your humble abode they'd still had the audacity come ruin your little alone time.

You were just relaxing in your pyjamas, munching on some popcorn and enjoying the fact that for once you were finally all by yourself when suddenly a figure hauls themselves over the edge of your window sill and crashes onto the floor of your apartment.

Of course your quick to push yourself off your couch and grab a weapon from the hidden compartment in your chair only to realize that your intruder was just another one of batman's minions.

"Red, you can't be serious" you immediately drop you weapon and walk over to his crumpled form.

He looked like he just went through hell, which was pretty sad since you knew he was just a kid on the inside but batman's sidekicks always seemed a little on the younger side.

"Are you crashing for the night?" He'd already done this before, always denying the fact that he was staying the night but always ends up staying anyway.

"No, I'm not" he muttered to himself, crumpling even more into himself but flinching when one of his wounds comes into contact with his detached gear.

"Right, your monitoring me" you played along, allowing him to believe that he was leaving anytime soon but you could already see his body relaxing it self.

"By the way, your crashing on the couch Tonight" you'd at least allow him to stay somewhere in your house, knowing that the supposed 'Batcave' that they always spoke about was somewhere on the other side of Gotham.

He should be lucky that he's your favorite, because ain't no way were you allowing any of the other bats anywhere near your house. Let alone inside of it.╣

[carolmunson]

love language five

another sunday another slay -- ft. dad!eddie love language blurbies are back in action -- again, these are just vingettes into a relationship with eddie no chronological timeline, no story -- just mini moments

love language set list

the cry is quiet on the monitor, wayne says he cries just like eddie used to. you both stir under your comforter, neither one of you running on much more than fumes while the baby sleep trains. you both know you're supposed to let him self soothe, but every time -- eddie caves.

"hm," you hum while you push up a bit onto your forearms.

"hm," he says sleepily, rubbing your back to keep you in bed while you feel him start to move. he presses a kiss to your temple before sitting on the edge of the mattress and rubbing his swollen eyes. he sniffs loudly, a sound that makes your shoulders hunch up to your ears before you sink back into the warm sea of your blankets -- the blue blackness of the room. the hum of the fan resettling you while he gets off the bed and heads to the small storage room turned nursery -- 'we'll get a place with two bedrooms before he's one, i promise baby. i'll get us out of here.' 

eddie takes the scrunchie he stole of yours from around his wrist to pull his hair back. nothing quite like the pain of sticky baby fingers wrapped up in your tresses when you want nothing more than to go back to sleep. eddie pouts back at him when he opens the door, seeing his wet tear stained face in the dark through the bars of his crib. "shh, shh," he eases in softly, shutting the door behind him so the dim light from the hallway doesn't shine in. the night light teases a warm yellow glow in the corner -- his eyes adjusting enough to see his son reach for him with grabby hands. a grin pulls on his lips -- his boy. "c’mere little guy," he coos quietly, hoisting him up out of the crib and onto his hip, he checks for anything physical -- no cuts or scrapes, diaper is dry, pajamas untwisted. he pulls the baby close to his chest, feeling his little nose bury into his neck. eddie chuckles airly, letting his free hand run over the boy's small sprouts of hair while he bounces him up and down, soft 'choo, choo, choo's whisper through the tiny room while he does. the soft cries continue into his neck, spit starting to gather at the top of his shoulder. eddie sighs in the darkness of the room, rubbing his back. “think you’re hungry,” he mumbles, taking him to the kitchen. eddie was surprised at how often and how much the baby would eat during his feedings, guilt sliding over his face when he asked you if maybe he’s been overfed.  

it was painful for wayne to explain to eddie that what he thinks is overfeeding is just what regular homes would call normal feeding. babies were supposed to be chubby, big cheeks and bellies, rolls in their thighs. and boy did wayne’s grandson have so many rolls. ‘you should start callin’ him pillsbury, son.’ the kitchen glows green when he turns the light on over the oven, keeping the big light off in case the baby decides to fall back asleep. one handed skills show themselves off to no one while eddie perfectly scoops out enough formula into the donald duck printed bottle on the counter. ounces became easy to measure in dark corners before he met you, so loading up four ounces of warm water without looking was nothing. another quiet cry mixes with the low buzz of the oven light and eddie’s eyes shoot over to the partially open door of the bedroom at the end of the hall. he listens for your footsteps but they don’t come and that’s okay. you’ve really needed this sleep. 

"almost ready," he murmurs softly, kissing the top of his head. he screws the top on and shakes it to mix, sleep still tugging at his eyes while the baby squirms against his chest. he shifts, another one arm wonder of laying him down across the length of his forearm, head in the crook of his elbow. his son looks up at him with big brown eyes that match his own, expanding his baby world with recognition, admiration. his boy. "there we go," he sighs with relief. baby had gotten good at holding the bottle himself, but tired eyes up at eddie's let him know that he wouldn't be able to. the bottle almost drops, eddie making a face to catch it that makes a loud peal of laughter escape your son's lips. “oh is that funny? giving daddy a heart attack?” he coos in a whisper. the squeaks and squeals get a little louder and eddie looks toward the part way open door again, darkness looking back at him. another few bounces and he makes the decision to step outside into the summer air, sitting on the old leather couch he put outside of the trailer before he met you. he looks down at his son, hands reaching toward the bottle while his eyes lull a bit as it’s eased into his mouth. eddie sighs again, the soft sucking mixing in with the sounds outside – crickets hiding in the brush, the way the warm breeze shifts the trees around the park and down the street. the stars aren’t out tonight, they aren’t really any more – too many lights outside in the park, street lights fogging up the shine. they weren’t out the way they were when he was a kid, but every few days eddie tells you about how the baby will know all the constellations before he’s ten. he’ll take him on all the camping trips that his dad never took him on, all the nights in a tent that wayne was too tired to do. he’d teach him how to use the big dipper to find his way home, to find orion’s belt, to look up every once and a while. 

despite the stars, the moon shone bright tonight. a spotlight on the two of them on the couch while everyone else slept. the humid air hugs his skin while he watches his son drink, big baby eyes getting heavy, and thinks about how the moon is seeing him do the thing his daddy never did. but his momma would take him outside on nights like this, right before bed, have him look up at the moon with her and just sing. he finishes his bottle in record time and doesn’t even spit up when he burps. eddie eases him back down into the crook of his arm, settling the empty bottle next to his thigh. his bare back starts to stick to the leather in the warm air, baby yawns but his eyes are still bright even while half open. his tiny hand reaching up to wrap his sticky fingers around his dad’s index as he slides it over his soft chubby cheek. eddie swallows the lump in his throat while he looks down at his baby with glassy eyes. he looks up and baby follows suit, eyes shining under the pale blue glow. eddie starts to sing – slow and warm like the air around them: “i see the moon, the moon sees me, the moon sees the ones, that i wanna see…” “that’s you and mommy,” he explains, thumb smoothing over his pudgy hand. low giggles bubble from him while his finger ends up in his son’s drooly mouth. eyes half closed, breathing steady. “so god bless the moon, and god bless me, and god bless the ones, that i wanna see…”

eddie keeps him there for a few moments, rocking him softly until his eyes shut all the way. he eases his hand away, humming the song over while they get back into the trailer, air conditioning hugging his warm sticky skin and he quietly shuts the storm door. the house is quiet with night. he clicks off the yellow-green light of the oven, the buzzing falling way to just the fan and ac unit humming in the house. the low rumble of the humming makes his son dead weight in his arms, he huffs a quiet laugh. baby gets laid back down in his crib, pressed like a flower with kisses before eddie leaves the nursery. you don’t even stir as he crawls back into bed with you, too lost in a dream, too far away. your form as slack and cozy as your son’s down the hall – sleepy trailer, the napping house. eddie curls up against you, arm wrapping around your soft and warm body that made your family into three five months ago. he kisses your shoulder while you sleep, your slow breaths lulling him into safety. he looks up between the part in the curtains where the moon shines down on him – his old friend. “so god bless the moon, and god bless me,” he whispers. “and god bless the ones, that i wanna see.” 

[fenikorg-talks]

Alastor couldn't believe that Husker of all people had convinced him to do this.

He really didn't want to do this, but apparently, there was "no one available to do the job". What a lie. Literally, anyone in this goddamn city would have been able to do this if it wasn't because the damn tv was nowhere to be seen. Valentino had a rage sprout during the blackout and Velvette was getting him distracted before he actually hurt Vox in the process. What a bunch of losers. Who in their right mind let those three take control of the city while he was away? Lucifer wasn't doing a good job, it seems. Well, who was he to judge.

While walking in the dark streets he encountered all kind of sinners. The kind that took advantage of the darkness and the kind that panicked about it. Some of them were upset of having no signal. That's what happens when you put all your trust in an unstable individual. Charlie had told him to get to Vox's tower as fast as possible, but a little time spent in the darkness wouldn't be too bad for their health. Their brains had already rott with those screens, they should touch some grass.

Vox's tower was defended with all its artifacts and armaments, so Alastor opted to use his shadows to get into the building. Inside it was as dark as his shadows. Alastor followed the halls that he remembered leading to Vox's office. It was exactly where it was seven years ago, and when he managed to get in, it was the same as before, but a little more full of monitors. Vox's sharks and some sparks from the cables were the only sources of light. Alastor walked to Vox's motionless body, resting in his chair. He would never admit that he got the goosebumps, but he saw how the cables were still pressed against Vox's TV head, and that something was twitching in the monitors.

"Vox", he tried to call his old pal, but there was no verbal answer. Instead, one monitor glitched and, with the screen still dark, one single little red light turn on. He was listening. Good. Alastor remembered when this kind of thing used to happen before; Vox would try to use more power than he could handle and end up lost on his wires. Alastor always helped him get out. But this time, it wasn't as if he was stuck, no, it looked as if he was hiding from something. "It has been a long time, hm?" There wasn't anything to say, either way. Vox didn't look like he wanted to talk, less to Alastor of all people.

"Just so you know, I was practically forced to be here, so don't get your hopes up," he remembered when Vox used to be so hyped by the mere fact that they were gonna be sitting next to each other on an overlord's meeting. He hoped that hadn't changed between them. Then again, they did have a fight right after he got back.

"Get out of there and bring back the light to the pentagram already, Vox," he was getting tired of this, there was no way this prick was gonna listen to him anyway. The lights, slowly but steadily, started to return to every house in the pride ring. Well, that was something. Still, Vox was on the monitors, doing who knows what. Alastor sighed, of fucking course this asshole didn't have the guts to face him again.

"I doubt the Radioo Demon was just forced to come and calm down a pathetic crybaby," Vox's deep voice said through the speakers. His voice was hoarse, Alastor noticed, as if he had been crying. Vox was right, tho. He wasn't completely forced, but he had been convinced by a very persuasive bartender cat who knew how to read him like a book.

"It's not as if it was my first time seeing you this way. Besides, your partners were somewhat busy at the moment, and there is no one else who knows about your little addiction to getting lost on those electronic snakes."

"Wires," he corrected but otherwise said nothing. Alastor picked at his nails waiting for Vox to do something. He did nothing.

"Well, time's up! I came here with a job and it's done. Have a nice mental breakdown, my dear fellow, may we never see each other again!" Sparks and glitches surrounded the monitors and an electronic wave passed through the wires until getting on Vox's head. His screen tilted on and his face appeared, but he didn't move. Alastor knew that it took a while for Vox to regain full control of his body so he took advantage of those seconds to examine him. His face was drawn in the most boring, disinterested look Alastor had ever seen him do, he wore big eyebags and looked sick overall.

Sometimes, Alastor wished to not smile at all. This wasn't a moment in which he should be smiling, and yet he was. It might have been convenient for him in numerous times, but with Vox, he just felt fake. And Vox knew that.

"If your face wasn't sewn, would you truly be happy to see me?" Vox didn't look up when he talked, but Alastor could see his disappointment in his monotone voice. How he changed in the seven years they were apart. It was almost as if he was a completely different demon.

"Like this? ...No," he summoned his shadows and got out of that sad pathetic tower. On the streets, he took one last glance in his direction, dropping his gaze. He had expected to be meeting his number one fan and only friend. Instead, he met a depressed overpowered overlord who didn't remember when was the last time he truly smiled. And to be honest, Alastor didn't remember when was the last time he was truly happy either.

(I don't know what kind of crack was I on when I wrote this but I found it on my notes, so I edited the fucking grammar and now here it is, enjoy)

[hurtfortea]

Was doing some writing exercises and...

So, I decided to use a three random word generator to get, well, three random words to create scenes from. Strangely, they all turned out kind of whumpy! Perhaps this is just a sign that I am a very dark minded person, but hey-

Figured I'd share.

Prompt #1: bulb, offender, proposal

"Stop! You have nowhere left to run. Put your hands on your head!" She shouts, coming to a stop a couple paces behind him. He freezes at the end of the hall, slowly lifting his hands. They link together behind his head as he stares at the concrete wall in front of him. "Get down on your knees!" She demands. He turns to face her instead, looking strangely relaxed, despite having a gun pointed at him. "I said get down!"

He sighs. "I want to make you an offer."

"You don't have anything I want." She snaps, eyes narrowing.

"Oh yeah? How about your life? Look down."

Inexplicably, her throat tightens, and her eyes slowly trail from him to the ground around her feet. She keeps her gun pointed ahead, though. There are vines all over the floor, some sprouting strange little buds. One, with its stem crushed under her foot, is pointed up at her, its little pedals parted slightly. There's a bit of, barely visible, green gas seeping from it. Slowly, she lowers her gun.

"What's your offer?"

Prompt #2: error, whisper, analysis

"No, no, no," she says, watching the monitor freeze, an error warning popping up at the center.

"It was never going to work," a voice whispers in her ear, and she whips around, but there's no one there. Slowly, she turns back to the computer, running her fingers through her greasy, unkempt hair.

"I'll figure it out. I have to."

Prompt #3: refer, urgency, steep

"My doctor told me to come to you, please, you're the only one who can help us!"

The man frowns, his wrinkles accentuated by the expression. "The operation won't be easy. I'll need proper payment."

"I'll give you anything you want! Anything!"

He leans closer, his eyes lighting up a sickly yellow. "Even yourself?"

Prompt #4: compensation, pain, poll

He curls further in on himself, clutching his broken body.

"We need to decide on what to do with him." One of the men standing over him say.

"Ah, we seen dis shit before. No one ever gets away with the cover up. The secret will come out eventually, ya?" Another asks.

"You've been watching too many movies, Lonnie."

"Nah, he's got a point. How 'bout we take this guy to the nearest hospital, and he can agree to keep his trap shut. Eh? Right, buddy?" The man prods him with a foot, and he groans, nodding slightly. Anything, if they'll just get him some medical attention.

"Pah, if you haven't fucking noticed, there's a reason we're driving on the back roads! If we go out to town, someone's gonna notice none of us are fuckin sober!" At this point, he can hardly tell which of them is speaking.

"Alright, you've got a point. How about we just call someone then?"

"What's to say he doesn't talk?"

"Screw it, how about we just pay him? What do ya say, kid? Wanna make some cash?" They nudge him again, and he releases a low whine.

"Let's vote on it, ey, lads? Everyone for doin nothin?"

It's an excruciating couple of minutes before they come to a decision, and he flinches when something drops on his face. It feels like paper. His eyes open to see bills. Dollar bills.

"Dere ya go, bud, that should cheer ya up."

"Good luck, pal!"

"Don't go yapping."

With that, they leave him. He listens to the sound of their car as it starts and then speeds away. The crickets sound loudly in the forest around him, the sky near black. He wonders if they called anyone.

[cebwrites]

some AU ship kids bc why not [kenta is @esfag's oc!]

oc x canon word count: 1.1k

Mokichi, conceived a year or so after the 4th war:

A shy, often a sickly kid and would give the polycule heart attacks whenever he caught seasonal illnesses - Tae loves fall and winter but for the first few years of Kichi's life he spent most of those seasons indoors monitoring his son's health (helped Tae get closer again to his brother though since Takashi would run over in an instant when Tae called him about little Kichi being under the weather)

Polite, anxious little bug, Mokichi is the sweetest thing to ever grace Tae's life and he loves his baby sprout more than anything in the world; he'd love him just as much regardless, but for the longest time Tae assumed it'd be impossible for him to conceive after an incident when he was sixteen that lead to complications

This leads to Tae being very clingy with him and on top of regular parental worry even into his teens, Tenzo blooms like a field of sunflowers whenever anyone compliments how well mannered and helpful his boy is

Though he has no plans to become a shinobi, his parents and relatives train with him on and off so he's very familiar with the basics and has an interest with genjutsu

Mokichi also has a little vegetable garden behind the house he's tended to ever since he could walk with Tae and Tenzo's supervision and his hair is in reference to Itama Senju (we're not questioning how it works alright the genes are geneticing)

I think Tenzo is reserved enough that he doesn't care what happens to Orochimaru so long as he's stopped—because what's done is done and Yamato's had to live his entire life like that— content to let him rot in prison forever and all that, but it's only mildly an exaggeration to say Tae wants him publicly executed for his crimes against humanity

Even post-Orochimaru's death (Kakashi would NOT let that shit fly idgaf what Kishi thinks) Tenzo is still mostly ambivalent but when Mokichi's health issues show up he finally starts resenting him posthumously because maybe it's those experiments' faults his son is having so much trouble

Tae's beside himself initially, he apologizes to Kichi while he slept whenever he got sick for not being able to give his son a stronger immune system as the one who carried him through some maybe misplaced sense of responsibility and it takes both parents years to reconcile this

Yuichi, Yukari, born three years after Mokichi:

Troublemakers one and two, they take after the Nanadaime's prankster days and most people can't tell them apart for a long time basically until they dye their hair, even some relatives (Naruto in particular, but also Tsunade, Raidou, and Kakashi - though they suspect the latter is just playing along for a bit)

Though they're showered with as much love and attention four dads can give, it's a little lame having the academy's principle as one of them, so the boys often act out to be cool or impress their peers; Yui and Yuka would never dream of it in front of Yamato because of how "scary" he can be despite how often Iruka chews them out, and for some reason can never really bring themselves to intentionally upset Tae

Yuka is often the mastermind of any prank they pull, typically on the general public or sometimes their "wimpy" older brother, while Yui is his enabler and makes sure their plans go well - they're smart, talented kids at the end of the day, the twins just have to go through the dreaded attention-seeking phase just like every other kid their age

Yuichi and Yukari are inseparable growing up but as they reach tween to teen age the boys have a falling out of epic sibling proportions - and make it everyone else's problem; Yui pulls away because he feels like he's being forced to live his life as part of a matching set, becoming more recluse, Yuka in return feels like he's losing his twin and best friend because nothing's getting through to him like it normally would and neither of them are communicating about it

Yuka comes home obnoxiously yelling that he hates having a brother after their big fight and slams the door shut to their room with Yui lagging behind at the front door—opens it a crack to clarify that he doesn't mean Mokichi though—and then shuts it again so he can cry into his pillow, the dads have to obviously intervene

After making up, their bond is different but stronger, and the boys also branch out and mingling with people without necessarily having to rely on each other - Yuichi starts hanging out with Uncle Mizuki and Aunt Koko because he's always liked his dad's team mates and their weird dynamic, Yukari makes new friends by being the social butterfly that he always ways

Yui's gender is also ??? weird but he's comfortable in masculinity, Yuka's got that tboy swag just like Tae and Tenzo with way more unearned confidence (this is also a front for his insecurities)

Inumi, born 6 years after Mokichi:

Not very verbal a lot of the time, very similar to how Tae was a kid; they're scared of the bigger Inuzuka dogs but like playing with the puppies whenever Kenta or one of their other dads brings them to the Inuzuka compound; Slate is unfortunately one of the dogs that Inumi gets scared around and they would cry as a baby whenever he barked louder than a certain threshold

Tsume and Kiba also kind of scare them with how rowdy they can get (miss ma'am destroyed her son's breakfast for waking up late jfc) but they'll cling to Hana's legs and really enjoys when Hyou comes to visit with Bull (the one exception to the big dog rule, they're chill with Kakashi's other ninken as well), they also like Hinata and Shino but have tried to impulsively eat some of his kikaichu before as a toddler

Despite their dads' (pretend) beef Inumi gets along with Mokichi the most out of their siblings, he'll sit with them quietly for hours without expecting them to respond and it's a weight off their little shoulders - Kichi also makes little origami figures for them while he does his homework or whenever he gets sick and in return Numi gets excited to help wash the vegetables from his garden when they're ready to harvest

Yui and Yuka called them lame initially but they secretly kept the cranes Mokichi made for their birthday - the cat was let out of the bag one day when Yuka couldn't find his while cleaning his (very cluttered) side of their room and cried for hours; Kichi made his silly baby brother many more cranes after this

Inumi loves the twins too of course, even if they're hard to get along with sometimes, but Kichi's their gentle kind of a pushover big brother and they'll do whatever it takes to protect him

Along with the eldest of these kids, Inumi's also perfected the infamous wide-eyed owl stare Tae's terrified many people with whether he means to or not, Numi has no problem being intentionally scary just like Yamato whenever anyone poses a threat to the people they care about; Mokichi in particular

[beastinthebelfry]

Well, I failed miserably at my Halloween Challenge so have the last part of The Ravaging on account. Still working on the Halloween story, it's just going to be awhile before I post anything for it.

Ao3

A cold breeze bellows through the trees, heralding the end of another encounter. You look up, watching as the man and the female constructs grow farther away, the vines cradling you as you're lowered to the ground. You're amazed to realize just how far into the air you’ve been this whole time, the darkness and bio-luminescence playing tricks on your depth perception. 

The Vines set you on your feet, holding you up until they're sure you can stand on your own and only then do they retract. You stand in the darkness, willing your vision to adjust to the darkness, but no matter how long you stand there, the inky blackness is too thick to penetrate. You supposed you can stand still and let whatever monster that passes by catch you. That’s certainly not the worst scenario, but it's also not the most appealing. You’d like to explore. 

You’ve always wanted to go camping, or hiking off trail in the woods, but the very real possibility of being lost and cut off from civilization weighs heavily on you every time you consider it and so you’ve always talked yourself out of it. But here you can’t get lost. You're being monitored and there are any number of other people and creatures here as well, so you aren’t alone. This may be the only chance  for you to do something like this with this level of certainty. 

Perhaps the forest is wondering why you haven’t moved, or maybe the man in the bark is still watching you, either way, the darkness is suddenly chased away by the same bio-luminescent mushrooms. Blooming all around you, sprouting up the trees and along the ground they form a cocoon around you. You take a step forward to study them closer and more mushrooms sprout in the same direction. 

Testing a theory, you turn and take a step in another direction, watching as the spores bloom the same as before. You smile to yourself. “Thank you.” you say out loud and the leaves about you rustle in a light breeze. 

You stand at the center for a moment longer, determining which direction you want to take before choosing the right and following the glowing mushrooms until you come to a well worn trail where lanterns hang from wooden posts along either side. You step into the light of the lanterns and turn to watch the mushrooms recede the way you’d come. 

“Well well well, it must be my lucky night.” a deep voice like gravel sounds somewhere out into the darkness. The sound slides across your sensitive nerves and you shiver as your arousal spikes again. A chuckle reverberates through the trees and you turn abruptly trying to pick out the source from the darkness. “Here I am, searching for the perfect dessert to end our night and there you are, emerging from the forest like a gift from the gods.” 

You turn once more in time to watch them emerge through the trees. A werewolf of enormous size, even bigger than the one at the beginning of the night. Standing at, at least eight feet tall on his hind legs, his shaggy black hair is run through with silver and his piercing yellow eyes seem to glow in the lamp light. He licks his lips, taking you in from head to toe. It’s easy to assume he likes what he sees as his thick red cock rises to attention. 

“What’d ya say sweetheart? Want to finish the night out with a few old dogs?” he asks, taking a step closer. 

You nod dumbly, eyes transfixed on his leaking member. He chuckles again before he’s moving too fast for you to register, scooping you up and planting your back against a tree. 

“You flatter me,” he says. “Why don’t we have a little warm up before I take you to meet my boys?” 

You whimper, the feeling of his massive paws on your body overwhelming your senses. “Mmm please.” 

He hums, the rumbling sound traveling through your body where you’re pressed together.  “So polite.” he says, bending his thick neck and nuzzling at yours. You feel the sharp points of his teeth pressing against your skin as he lathes his tongue across your pulse. “You smell divine.” he tells him, his paws coming around to cup your rounded bottom. He hikes you up a little higher, the bark biting into your skin, but you barely notice as his heavy length comes to rest against you. 

The wolf shifts to one knee, hoisting you up and throwing your knees over his shoulders in one smooth motion. The display of power is intoxicating all on its own. You grip at the fur around his massive head as it settles between your legs. You hear the rush of air as he takes in a deep breath, letting it out with a deep rumbling chuckle. 

“Quite the adventure you’ve had tonight.” he says before flicking his tongue out against your folds. You gasp, still sensitive after everything that happened in the trees. 

The wolf chuckles, vibrations rumbling through you. And then he’s devouring you, rough tongue lashing across your clit, still so sensitive from every adventure so far. A growl rumbles deep in his chest and the feel of it vibrates across your nerves tipping you over the edge as he dips his long tongue in to lick up the slick that gushes from you. 

The wolf hums. “The old man rarely takes more than one offering, you must have put on quite a show to draw their attention. Lucky us, they decided to let you go before the end of the night.” he unhooks your legs from his shoulders and stands, cradling your body to his solid, furry form. “No one seeds a mortal better than the Green Man himself.” he licks his muzzle obscenely and you shiver at the sight. 

The wolf maneuvers you around in his arms, then steps back into the treeline where he emerged before. As you move away from the lanterns, the darkness swallows you up, but the wolf clearly has no trouble seeing, his footsteps nearly silent through the underbrush. 

Experience so far has taught you that there is nothing to fear here, that you're safe, so you hunker down in his arms, his warmth fighting off the chill of the night. You're soon rewarded for your patience as you catch a faint glow in the distance. As you move closer, the glow grows brighter and you can hear the crackle of fire and the low murmur of deep voices. 

The wolf steps through the brush into a clearing, drawing the attention of four other wolves sitting around the fire. They’re all about the same size, in varying shades of gray and brown, white around their muzzles and streaked through their fur. 

You just barely manage to hold on to what remains of your dignity as they each stand, towering over you, even in the first wolf’s arms. 

“I hope you're all still hungry.” he says to what you can only assume is his pack. “This one was blessed by the old man himself.” 

“They took more than one?” a russet brown wolf asks, the shock clear in his voice. “She must be something special.” 

“She tastes divine.”  

There’s a cacophony of growls around you then, each wolf responding with a low rumble that sets off your nerves like someone holding a vibrator to your clit. You feel your body come alive, tingling pricks against your skin peaking your nipples. You clench involuntarily, breath stuttering. 

“That’s his doing.” the wolf holding you explains. “The sensitivity will eventually wear off, but until then, you’ll feel everything more acutely now.” 

As if to emphasize the point, you feel him press his thumb against your folds, sinking the meaty digit in. You gasp, clenching around him, body shuddering at the intrusion. 

“Please.” you moan, willing them to understand what you need as words fail you. 

They laugh. “Of course sweetheart.” a stocky gray wolf replies, stepping forward, his one eye is a crystal clear blue, a scar running from his brow over his left eye, the lid closed. 

“Get her ready quickly.” the first wolf says, letting the gray wolf pull you from his grip. His thumb pops free and you groan in disappointment. “The night is almost over and it’s going to take all of us to satisfy her.” 

You don’t resist, letting them manipulate your body, feeling boneless and heavy with arousal. The gray wolf carries you to the other side of the fire, where a wooden contraption sits, metal chains fastened to the bottom. He lays you on your stomach on the padded surface, knees braced on an outcropping on either side. You feel the cold weight of the cuffs against the skin of your wrists and ankles. 

“She’s ready, boss.” one of them says and you peer over your shoulder watching as the wolf who brought you here steps up behind you. He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth and for a moment the haze of lust dissipates enough for you to consider how handsome he is. And then just like that the thought and all thoughts are gone, arousal rushing through you at the feeling of something thick pushing at your entrance. 

You’ve had a very interesting night. Thick cocks galore, but there’s something about this, right now that feels different. The stretch is more intense, lightning shooting across your nerves. You grab on to the edge of the wooden structure, nails digging in. The wolves howl and laugh around you watching you tremble with each thrust through you.

Words are lost to you, the only sounds you can manage are animalistic, grunts and groans and whines. You’d be embarrassed if you could even think that clearly. 

Your first climax among these beastly men hits you so fast and unexpectedly that you scream, shrieking into the night like a banshee. Laughter erupts again but you can barely hear it through the rushing in your ears, your body never leaving that pleasured plateau as the “Boss” continues to fuck you through another and another. 

When he nears his own end, he bends over you, pressing your body into the wooden beam, hips pistoning into you with short, powerful strokes. Your screams are swallowed up by his howls as he unloads inside you. You can feel his cum gushing out around his thick member. 

Eventually he pulls free, stepping away to let the next wolf have his turn. It’s much the same as before. At no point have you become desensitized to these intense sensations. Each wolf fucks you in their own way, slow and deliberate, fast and rough. It’s all different and yet all the same, a steady unyielding wall of pleasure building inside you until you feel like you can’t breathe. 

You’ve long since stopped screaming, whimpering now as exhaustion sets in. But even then you don’t want it to stop. You feel like it’s not enough, like it’s never enough. They rotate again and again, taking turn after turn. At some point you lose track of who's using you. 

As the blue hour rises around you, the “Boss” takes his turn again, his thrusts, slow but powerful, as if he can feel the magic that kept you suspended in bliss beginning to fade with the coming dawn. 

You feel his rumbling chuckle against your back as he leans against you, nuzzling at your neck. “Give me one more, sweetheart.” he growls against your ear. You whimper, clenching down around him. “That’s it, a little more.” Your final climax rolls through like a warm summer breeze, you stretch and curl into it savoring it like a cat in a beam of sunlight. 

There’s movement around you, the chains fall away. You're lifted from the bench, warm soft fur a soothing balm to you over sensitive skin. You carried somewhere not too far away where you're wrapped in warm, soft fleece. And then there are people there. People in matching charcoal jumpsuits, surgical masks over their nose and mouths. There’s a logo of some kind embroidered on the left breast, a swooping elegant M. 

One of them asks you if you can stand, if you need assistance walking. You push to your feet, steady yourself and when they're satisfied you won’t fall over, they lead you along the lantern lined trail from before where groups of people are walking along with other jumpsuit clad people. 

You breach the edge of the forest into the clearing where private ambulances with the same logo painted across the side sit waiting. Medical personnel filter out to meet the crowd, passing out water and evaluating anyone who seems a little too out of it. You spot the pink haired man from before limping toward an ambulance as a stretcher passes with the sulking man with the tree people, a blissed out smile beneath the oxygen mask. 

“Congratulation,” the automated voice from before sounds through the early dawn hours. “You have survived The Ravaging.”  

[iwriteasfotini]

Snake Fangs

In which Barty (as a birthday gift from Evan) gets two lip piercings because that shite is totally plot progressing! It’s a bit long (1200 words). Yes, my Hogwarts story includes students getting piercings and tattoos.

A subtextual Rosekiller scene from The Heart of the Lion.

Regulus POV, Regulus is in year three, as is Barty. Evan is in year five. 

...

The second most exciting thing to happen in November was Barty’s birthday piercing session. Honestly, Regulus was slightly unsure how he ended up being invited to attend the proceedings, but for some reason Barty was a lot less hostile towards him these days. Between him and Evan, who was also keen to have Regulus around, Regulus had actually found himself in social situations which did not involve Severus and were not as painful as they used to be. 

Bibbler, the sixth year resident tattoo artist and piercer had commandeered one of the small study rooms as his workspace. He had begun offering his services the previous year and charged what Evan claimed was a fair price. Sometimes people tried to rob you due to the inaccessibility of the skills. However when students started going to get work done by people in other houses, essentially broadening the market, the prices had settled in reasonable territory. 

Bibbler sat Barty down in a chair and opened a black leather case, displaying a large variety of silver jewelry. 

“These are all surgical steel, don’t ask it’s muggle terminology. Depending on what you want, we do either a bar or a hoop. Muggles don’t like to do certain piercings with hoops initially but with a dab of dittany you are all healed up, so hoops are a valid option for pretty much anything. These here,” and Bibbler waved at a selection of silver jewelry which looked identical to all the rest of the pieces in Regulus’ opinion, “these have had a glamour charm added. They cost twice as much, but with a simple spell, they become invisible. It holds for several hours. You can learn to glamour any of it yourself, but it’s advanced magic.” 

Barty was leaning over the briefcase, studying all the little pieces of jewelry. 

“Any idea what you want?” 

With a quick glance at Evan, Barty said, “I want snake fangs.”

Evan gave a coy smile and nodded in approval. 

“How much for two of these?” Barty pointed to some thin silver hoops. Only then did Regulus realize the hoops were completely closed circles. How in the world were you supposed to get them through your skin?

“For the glamours, eight galleons a piece.” Barty’s face fell slightly. 

“I’m buying you one, you figure out the other,” Evan said. 

“I have four galleons,” said Barty. 

Regulus must have been in a generous mood, for he found himself saying, “I’ll give you four, then you’re covered.” 

Barty looked at Regulus, and Regulus looked at Barty, and in that moment, Regulus thought the animosity which had sprouted between them might have evaporated. 

“Thanks Black.” Regulus nodded quickly, then fished the galleons out of his pocket. Ok, he might have been preparing for this a tiny bit. He didn’t often walk around the castle with a pocket of clinking galleons, he wasn’t that common. 

Regulus didn’t necessarily like Barty. But knowing what he did from the accidental witnessing of the other boy’s kiss a few weeks back, plus knowing he came from a difficult home life, made him feel less hostile and more empathetic towards his dormmate. 

Therefore Regulus had decided to keep trying to patch things up between them. It was far better to have an ally than an enemy at any rate. And if said ally had a history of making brash and dangerous decisions, better to keep them close where you can monitor their movements and hopefully intervene to keep any more awfulness from unfolding. 

Galleons pocketed, Bibbler prepared his tools. He talked them through the process as none of them had ever gotten a piercing before, or so Regulus assumed. 

“First I sterilize everything with a charm. Watch it now, really gets the eyes.” Bibbler tapped the hoops, and several other silver instruments with his wand. Sure enough, the scent of rubbing alcohol filled the small room, making Regulus cough slightly. 

“Better to be heavy handed than to end up with an infection. You want to avoid asking Madam Pomfrey to tend to infected piercings. She’ll help, but she’ll also chastise you for marring your body for an hour. It isn’t worth it. It doesn’t usually happen unless someone in my position is careless, or people try to do their own piercings.

“Alright, here’s a mirror. Let’s make sure we get them where you want them.”

Bibbler handed Barty a large hand mirror and then took out a blue something, which had a cap Bibbler removed. He held it in his hand, looking like he was ready to write with it.

“What the hell is that?” Regulus asked. 

Bibbler looked at the thing, and then at Regulus, smiling slyly. “This my young pureblood friend, is something we call a felt tipped pen.”

Bibbler proceeded to use the felt tipped pen to mark where Barty wanted the piercings, muttering to himself about them being evenly spaced. 

“I stand behind my work,” said Bibbler. “If these end up wonky somehow, come back and I’ll put it right.”

He grabbed his wand again and tapped each of the hoops Barty had selected, the identical silver hoops opened and changed shape slightly. Then he grabbed a silver set of tongs and the piercing needle. He showed them all how the needle was hollow. He pulled Barty’s lip back with the tongs and said, “ready?”

Barty gave a jerky head nod, lip restrained in the tongs. Bibbler pushed the needle through Barty’s lip, Barty squeezed his eyes shut. Then Bibbler grabbed one of the open hoops, threaded it through the hole, and tapped it with his wand. 

“That seals it back up. Really convenient. We’ll do the other side, then I’ll put some dittany on them.”

Bibbler repeated the process with the other side, Regulus craning his neck slightly to get a better view. Well, if he had been worried about being squeamish watching such a proceeding he was clearly fine. Both hoops in place, Bibbler grabbed a vial of liquid. He told Barty to tip his head back and he applied a drop of the liquid to each piercing. 

Barty let out a gasp as the liquid hit his skin, and the wounds smoked slightly. But within a few seconds he was feeling the new adornments gently with his teeth. 

“Feel ok?” asked Bibbler. 

“Yeah, I could have done without the dittany.”

“I know, it stings like a bitch. But it’s worth it.”

Bibbler handed the mirror back to Barty, who was now examining his reflection. 

“The glamour charm is Caecus. Watch.” Bibbler pointed his wand at Barty’s face and said, “Caecus.” The lip rings vanished, leaving behind two barely noticeable marks where they sat. 

“Finite Incantatem.” And they were back. 

“Wicked.”

“Be glad Hogwarts doesn’t have a piercing policy. I don’t think it was on anyone’s radar until recently. Let’s hope they don’t get difficult on us.”

Barty hopped up from the chair and gave Regulus and Evan a small smile. Regulus nodded in approval. Seeing how easy it was to glamour the jewelry had him thinking again, but was it worth the risk of forgetting and his mother finding out? Probably not. There were some disadvantages to being a Black, the Black. 

“Happy birthday mate,” said Evan, grabbing Barty’s shoulder and giving it a gentle shake. Barty’s cheeks went a bit pink. You might have rings in your face, but it doesn’t make you immune to blushing, Regulus thought. 

…

Have a wonderful day! :)

[jinlizz-dragondrama]

Chapter 11

*Fast Foward*

"No contact! Where are my kids?" Splints shouts as he paces back and forth.

"If only I had a clue as to where they are. Someone send me a clue. "

A bright purple portal opens and outfalls April.

"Anything, a hint a whisper,"

April's muffled calls for attention go unnoticed, and so do her thrashing movements.

"A well-timed crash" Splints goes to investigate this well-timed crash and sees it is April, and she's tied up.

He sits her up. "Do not worry, I will free you with my helping toe,"

He lifts his leg, exposing his disgusting long a** gangrene nail, and uses it to remove the gag from her mouth.

"First off, ew, second off WERE DOOMED! Draxum captured the guys and Aqua!"

April explains that Draxum demands the last piece of the armor Splints has.

*Purple Turtle transition 🐢💜*

The boys are locked in a cage hanging several stories high in a cave of sorts that's under a creepy castle tower. (What is it with villains about cold, dark, and dank-looking caves, huh? Also, the tower is giving Lord of the Rings vibes. Anyway...)

The guys go over what went wrong, and the word grandchildren is thrown around. 😳 Oh boy.. but Raph quickly changes the subject.

Maybe we didn't stay true to the Hamato ways, but Dad taught us that wisdom is within us. We need to focus and meditate deeply, and our path will be revealed.

"Oooooouuummmmmsmuuuaaaahhh" (idk). The boys look back at Donnie annoyed.

"Sorry, could you guys hear that?"

*Inside the Saruman, the White looking tower *

Draxum is lying on a massage table with Papa Brutus, giving him a relaxing massage. Under the table is a glowing circle with symbols that emit mystic energy.

"Another excellent idea of mine, bathing in the mystic energy, will give me the stretch to wield the dark armor," Draxum says

Papa Brutus continues to massage Draxum, but when he hints at his legs, being jealous of not getting attention, Papa Brutus almost loses his cool.

It's for the greater evil, the greater evil...." Papa Lui says," Trying to calm him down.

*A few hours prior* 

Unbeknownst to both my dads I was completely helpless being locked in some sort of med bay, several cameras facing me and a red light signaling they were actively recording strapped to a cold steel bed, with a bunch of cords connected to my head recording my brainwaves, a heart monitor, and vials of my blood were placed in a small biohazard fridge if I showed any sign of resistance or use of my powers I would be shocked not like a dog collar or tazer shocked. More like, it sends you to the pearly gates and back kind.

"You can't hold me here forever. My friends will come and save me, and they'll kick your wanna-be sheep butt!" I yell defiantly

"OH, I doubt it, but even if they do escape, they won't be able to recognize you." He chuckles darkly as he releases an Oozesquito

⚠️Trigger warning description of horror, seizures, blood, and disgusting transformation stuff ⚠️

I struggled with my bindings and tried to call upon my powers but to no avail. Hit tears stream down my face as the pain of the bite and the ooze flow through my bloodstream. But the unexpected happened. My body started rejecting the ooze, and I started to seize thrashing harshly against the table. A horrible gurgling sound comes from my mouth, and froth starts to form at my mouth. Soon my pupils turn fry9 my sclera turns yellow, my teeth sharpen, bones break and reshape and my torso sprouts purple tentacles that throw themselves about the room violently breaking glass and punching holes into the walls and floor, as I scream from the excruciating pain the sound turns into something I don't recognize it felt like another voice was coming from within me. Several of the cameras were knocked over, but a hidden camera remained untouched.

Draxum watches in horror and awe as to what is happening to me. Obviously, the heart monitor was going crazy as were my brain waves. Unfortunately, he was a good distance away from the reach of my rampaging tentacles.

I pass out from both physical and mental pain. My subconscious takes over and vomits up ooze. As soon as it's expelled from me, my subconscious mind makes my eyes glare at Draxum, an evil smirk is plastered on my face, and a chilling voice speaks.

"We will meet again in due time,"

Slowly, my body returned to its original state, but now my clothes were ripped to shreds, and the brain wave monitor showed no brain activity for a few seconds, then activity soon returned.

"Interesting," Draxum says thoughtfully as he leaves me on the table and exits the room.

*Meanwhile, at the Lair 💚*

Splints and April are searching for the last piece of the armor, while a teapot is whistling from the steam escaping it is revealed that Ole' Skully as Splinter calls it, is the one and only sought-after piece.

"I can't give them the teapot. It'll doom humanity." Splints says torn

"But they have your sons and Aqua." April retorts

"You're right. My family must come first. We will give them the teapot."

"But that'll doom humanity," April shouts.

"You're not helping April"

"Maybe there is an answer in those dusty old scrolls of yours", April suggests

Sadly the advice the scrolls give is not helpful at all. The ancestors pretty much state that the boys are a sad but necessary sacrifice for the safety of all humanity and it was an unforeseen circumstance. That was a huge no-no and the scroll was promptly shredded.

A plan was made to come save us, April comes up with "Team B" which includes Franken Foot (Raph's Sparring buddy), Bullhop (The poor hotel bellboy), S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N (Donnie's robotic son) and Todd(.....oversized hamster lol).

While the boys are busy meditating and Raph has a trippy vision, they come to realize that the Hamato Clan way just wasn't working. Dabbing was done and classic Raph smashes his way out of the cage.

"Wait a second. You could have done that the whole time?" Leo says, shocked

Team B....was a bust... they immediately fell for a trap except for April and Splints, of course. The boys make their way to the armor while April and Splints are ambushed by Foot Ninjas but they are quickly defeated by Splinters Macho Gazpacho Fury Kick which awes Papa Lui and he's also hit with the powerful kick which knocks both dads out. Draxum being the cocky bitch he is is sitting on a throne.

"Ah, the great Lou Jitsu, I guess the camera adds five feet," Draxum says cockily and his gargoyle henchmen Huginn and Muninn laugh at the burn.

"I am here for my kids, you will release them to me immediately" Splinter shouts

"That won't be happening, unless you have given me what I want" Draxum counters.

An intense fight starts in a very Lou Jitsu style, but to add a huge blow to Splints Draxum drops the boy's weapons before him. (Low blow man, low blow).

"We can do this two ways, you can give me the final piece or torture your sons until they tell me where it is....you know what there is a third option...."

A portal opens, and my limp and badly beaten body crashes to the ground with a sickening thud.

"Mmmmmm" I moan quietly once I make an impact on the stone floor, blood starts to run from my now split-open brow. Line.

"Aqua! No..."

"She's an interesting specimen shall I continue subjecting her to my experiments" Draxum says with no emotion as he presses a button and my screams of pain echo throughout the open space.

Tears fill April's eyes and start streaming down her face as she stares at me, clamping her hands over her mouth to muffle her horrified scream.

Splinter glares at Draxum and flashbacks of when I joined the family go through his mind, seeing my happy face in his mind now replaced with my vacant pained expression. He grabs Leo's katana and it appears that he is going to continue the fight but with a swish of the sword, a blue portal opens, reaching in and grabbing the last piece of the armor.

Slowly opening my eyes, vision still blurry, blinking my eyes to clear my vision. It clears just enough for me to see him handing it to Draxum.

"Splints...no....don't...." I say quietly as I try to reach out to him

"I'm sorry Aqua, I don't want anyone else to get hurt"

The boys are a few floors below us fighting their way to the armor, my screams finally reach the depths they are at which causes the boys to panic and Donnie takes off running ahead of his brothers.

"Aqua..." Donnie worriedly says as he climbs the many flights of stairs.

When they reach where we are their eyes scan the area seeing their dad, April, and myself on the floor.

"The final piece of the dark armor?" Raph says confused

"My boys..." Splinter says when he hears his eldest son's voice but the happiness is short-lived as he watches Draxum attach the last piece. He tried to stop him but it was too late.

An explosion of power happens that sends me and Splinter flying. Donnie rushes to catch me, which he does but the force of my limp body pushes him backwards to land on the ground but he holds my body to stop me from further injury. The dark armor attaches itself to Draxum and the gang looks on in horror.

"At last I can end the human threat, once and for all" Draxum exclaims

"Not if we have anything to say" Raph shouts as he goes to punch him but is flicked in the head and it pushes him backward knocking over his brothers and myself.

To show off his sheer power Draxum cuts two pillars in half and spears the ground with them.

"OK, question was he always this strong?" Leo asks

After Draxum was done admiring how powerful he is...I think he's trying to compensate for something...my dads once they recovered from their concussion were in awe and blinded by their devotion to their master and not realizing their beloved daughter was in a terrible state. They bow in respect calling out to the Master.

"Shredder we await your orders," Papa Brutus says

"Shredder? I'm not Shredder, I am Baron Draxum. With this armor do you know what I will do to the humans?"

"Uh shred them?"

If I had the strength to move my body I would facepalm so hard, my face would probably have a hand shape dent in it.

"No, what's with you and all this shredding? I will destroy them!"

"This is not what the legends foretold, somethings gone wrong," Papa Lui says while jumping through a portal with Papa Brutus.

Draxum makes his exit by commanding the suit to turn into a drill and it shoots upwards to the surface. Which sends a tone of rocks to fall onto us. Raph lifts the rubble off Splinter. Raph, Mikey, and Leo check to make sure he's OK while Donnie is staring at me trying to get that scream out of his head. Gently playing my hand on his with a smile, I gesture for him to go check on his dad as well. Reluctantly he does, when his back is turned my smile falters, and close my eyes to stop the room from spinning. April sits next to me holding my hand and watches the boys.

"Dad, are you hurt?" Leo asks

"Of course, I am hurt"  Splints says exasperated

"We shall miss you, father!" Donnie says while shoveling dirt on him in an attempt to make me laugh. Which makes me chuckle quietly

"I'm not rest in peace hurt, I'm rest on the couch hurt" He exclaims

Splinter apologizes to the boys which causes the boys to tear up, stripping themselves of their serious Hamato Clan attire, putting on their colored masks, and grabbing their weapons.

"Now go be your awesome selves"

Mayhem appears, snuggles April, and appears next to me rubbing against my cheek gently which tickles. Donnie summons his drill that had his backup tech. They zoom off away from the cavern Donnie takes one last look at me and April knowingly nods at him.

"Don't worry we'll take care of Splints and Aqua. Make him regret the day he decided to cross us"

Donnie gives his signature evil grin and flies off following his brothers.

*At a baseball stadium*

Draxum appears and starts destroying the place, people start scrambling to the exits,  climbing on top of each other with every man for themselves mentality.

"Draxum we are sick of you messing with people kind"

You're going to face a brand-new opponent that's back to their old self

"The teenage turtles who are ninjas and mutants"

"Really? Is that the best we got? Cuz we've had so much time to think of a way to say that"

While the boys were fighting, April snuck into the ranks with the Foot Ninjas in the announcer's box. Overhearing that there is a flaw with the armor she types a message on the jumbotron letting the boys know about her discovery. But before she could finish she was found out but luckily Mayhrm popped in with Splinter and myself, and we knocked out the Foot Ninjas. We both regret that decision as our bodies start aching, Mayhem pools us to the field to safety and I start wrapping both our bodies with bandages.

"Guys, I was trying to tell you the armor has a flaw" April shouts

Donnie has a flashback to when they broke the teapot skull head and shoved a Jupiter Jim figurine into the hole. Using his mystic goggles he finds the exact location of said flaw. The boys and their goofy selves come up with a plan to distract Draxum which works beautifully.

Leo at the last second while being tightly coiled in the clutches of the snake tentacles opens a portal and a single baseball bounces off the helmet towards April she uses a bat to hit a home run which pushes the figurine into the helmet and the armor rejects Draxum.

A huge explosion of pink colors and goo spews everywhere. While everyone celebrates their victory I get the sneaking suspicion things aren't over yet. I soon a dark and evil force surrounded me, it almost felt like I was being crushed by sheer power. I look over to the pile of armor and it starts to reattach itself, its towering and menacing figure stands before us.

Papa Lui and Papa Brutus bow to their master and rejoice.

"All hail the Shredder!"

A/N HEY guys sorry for not posting for a while. Been a bit busy but I've decided to have an upload schedule I'll either post on Saturdays or Sundays. I may or may not have a chapter for every week but I'll try to post more often.

[mariacallous]

When meteorologist John Haynes moved to Washington, DC, 20 years ago, he could stand on the rooftop of NASA headquarters and see airborne traces of the nearby interstate highway—there was that much pollution. “There was a cloud of smog that just followed the freeway,” he says, “all the way out into Virginia.” 

A decade later, NASA started planting the seeds of a global effort to monitor urban air quality and its effects on health. Those seeds are now beginning to sprout: Just after midnight, the agency launched its first instrument capable of hovering over North America to spy on urban pollution. This summer, the team will enhance that data with measurements taken by aircraft. NASA also just announced its first satellite mission that will be done in partnership with health experts to reveal the relationship between specific health conditions and the toxic airborne particles lingering above some of the world’s largest cities. 

Overall, they want to create a granular portrait of what exactly is in the sky, and how it got there—one that can’t be detailed with ground-based pollution monitors alone. Seventy-nine percent of US counties lack an Environmental Protection Agency monitor on the ground, so the EPA’s information isn’t representative of the air most Americans are breathing. Data from other parts of the world is even more sparse.

This is not NASA’s first foray into environmental surveillance. The agency has been measuring the ozone layer—the topmost part of the atmosphere—for decades, and monitoring closer to the Earth since the 1990s by flying small aircraft over the ocean, rainforests, and parts of Asia and Africa. “That was sort of what we call the exploratory days,” says Earth scientist Barry Lefer, manager of NASA’s Tropospheric Composition Program, which focuses on the chemical makeup of pollutants inhabiting the atmosphere underneath the ozone layer. “But,” he continues, “the transition to urban air quality is relatively new.” 

Let’s face it: There are challenges to monitoring emissions over anything as small as a city—much less a neighborhood—from a space as gigantic as the sky. The agency’s first satellite dedicated to studying atmospheric carbon dioxide, the Orbiting Carbon Observatory-2, launched in 2014 and is still active. Its successor, OCO-3, is now mounted on the International Space Station. The two have produced detailed area maps of carbon emissions over the Los Angeles basin and from Europe’s largest power plant. But while OCO-3 passes over nearly every city on Earth, its information is still limited because it lacks continuous monitoring of any location over long periods.

Enter Tempo, short for Tropospheric Emissions: Monitoring of Pollution, the NASA air quality mission that launched early this morning. Unlike previous Earth-observing satellites, it will be the first instrument locked in a geostationary orbit—meaning it’ll rotate at the same speed and direction as the planet so it can loiter over a single part of the globe. For the first time, NASA will be able to make hourly daytime observations of nitrogen dioxide, ozone, formaldehyde, and more across North America, including the continental United States, the Caribbean islands, and most of Canada and Mexico. “We’re going to get from sunrise to sunset,” Lefer says, with data taken frequently enough to see spikes during rush hour traffic.

Tempo will also be able to track variations in pollution at the neighborhood scale. Lefer foresees this being especially useful for exposing environmental injustice, since lower-income and racially segregated areas are more likely to be near emissions sources, like ports and refineries. “And satellite data can show that,” he says. Weather forecasting will benefit, too: With information constantly collected across greater North America, agencies will be able to more accurately infer future conditions, particularly in places where data currently exists for only a certain time of day. 

But this mission has its limits: Satellites only look down, just as remote-sensing ground monitors only look up. A lot gets missed that way, like details about which pollutants are at different altitudes, says chemist Gregory Frost of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. That’s why this summer NASA will partner with NOAA, the National Science Foundation, and several other institutions to fill in the gaps between space and the ground. Instruments aboard NASA’s DC-8, Gulfstream III and V, and other jets will characterize trace gases and aerosols above urban areas like New York City, Los Angeles, and DC, as well as coastal regions. 

These readings will calibrate Tempo’s space data and add to it in areas that lack good satellite or ground coverage. Combine all of this data with information from EPA monitors and weather models, and scientists will soon be able to analyze the atmosphere from multiple points of view. “Once we do that,” Frost says, “it’s going to be like having an air pollution monitor everywhere.”

Scientists are particularly interested in chasing pollutants called PM 2.5, or particles with a diameter less than 2.5 micrometers. Aerosols like these make up less than 1 percent of the atmosphere. That’s not a lot, Frost says, but all air quality problems have to do with these trace components. They harm crops, worsen visibility, and are small enough to lodge themselves into people’s lungs, which can lead to cardiovascular and respiratory diseases. Tinier particles—less than one micrometer across—can even get into the bloodstream. 

“Airborne particulate matter is considered to be the top environmental health risk worldwide,” says David Diner, a planetary scientist at NASA. But which types of PM 2.5 are most harmful to humans is still mostly a mystery. “There’s always this question about whether our bodies are more sensitive to the size of these particles or their chemical composition,” he says.

To find out, Diner is heading up NASA’s first collaboration with major health organizations, including the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the National Institutes of Health. In partnership with the Italian Space Agency, the groups are aiming to launch an observatory next year called MAIA, or Multi-Angle Imager for Aerosols, which will sample the air over 11 of the planet’s most populous metropolitan areas, including Boston, Johannesburg, and Tel Aviv. The imager will measure sunlight scattering off of aerosols to learn about their sizes and chemical makeup. That data will be passed off to epidemiologists, who will combine it with information from ground-based monitors and compare it against public health records to figure out what sizes and mixtures of particles correlate with specific health problems, like emphysema, pregnancy complications, and premature death. 

Working with health experts is key, Diner says, because they’re trained to obtain and properly analyze birth, death, and hospitalization records while respecting patient privacy. Once the mission team understands which toxins, or blends of them, are most harmful, and can track down their sources, “then perhaps society can more effectively regulate the particles that have the most detrimental impacts on human health,” he says. 

NASA’s not the only agency tracking pollution from the skies. Tempo’s predecessor is a South Korean instrument called the Geostationary Environmental Monitoring Spectrometer, or GEMS, which has been observing pollution patterns over greater Asia since 2020. Within the next few years, the European Space Agency will launch the Copernicus Sentinel-4 satellite to do the same over Europe and North Africa. This satellite constellation will provide the first comprehensive view of air quality over the entire northern hemisphere, letting scientists track how pollution travels over great distances, when it leaves the range of one spacecraft and pops up in another. 

No such network is planned for the southern hemisphere—yet. But, Lefer says, research is underway with NOAA to convert measurements from existing satellites into viable PM 2.5 readings for parts of the planet that lack ground-based monitors. Haynes leads NASA’s Health and Air Quality Applications program and its Applied Remote Sensing Training Program, which runs free workshops to teach the public how to use NASA data for issues related to air quality, fire risk, and conservation. Both NASA scientists envision a future with international teams running satellites, aircraft, and ground-sensing instruments while working with epidemiologists, socioeconomic experts, policymakers, and citizen scientists. “All of these are coming together to really make a golden age of using Earth observations for understanding air quality and health,” Haynes says. 

Satellite data is already showing that the atmosphere is clearing up. Sulfur levels are so low, Haynes says, that they’re getting hard to measure from space. Nitrogen dioxide has decreased 50 percent in some areas. And Haynes can’t see the smog over the interstate anymore: “Air quality in the United States is cleaner now than at any time in the modern industrial age,” he says. “We can have a clean environment, and also a healthy economy and healthy population—all at the same time.” 

[violets-in-her-arms-writes]

Find the Words {1}

Thanks @thewriteflame for tagging me! I had a lot of fun 💜

Surprisingly (or not), I haven't once mentioned a mountain or used the word match in La Fledgling, so I had to look elsewhere. Which means I can now subject all of you to two other projects of mine (not WIPs because they are no longer in progress. I'm halfway through the third book for the Witch's Time and 15k into the last book of ELT).

(I had to twist muse into amusement, because I wanted to add an extract from La Fledgling... sorry... 😶)

Words: mountain, match, market, muse, minute

Mountain

The Cave was not that large. There were rumors and legends of caves that could hold several hundred people and entire civilizations, caves where forests flourished and mountains rose, where rivers and lakes flowed. Ours was just a normal cavern.

The stone walls were covered with symbols that glowed in rhythm with the incantations used. Plants were sprouting in one corner, constantly monitored by a community member whose job it was to keep them from dying. To be honest, I didn't understand how they could possibly grow in the first place, let alone survive in such a dark place.

~The Witch’s Time (t.1), chapter 4

Match

Year of the Hare

Knowing that Llewella isn't Lorelei doesn't take away the fact that she's one hell of a nut jub. Holy fucking shit, she's so stubborn! We all know she has magic, but she still refuses to... to... to do anything, really! She doesn't want to talk about matching magical properties, doesn't want to talk about her potent magic. She doesn't want to experiment with her own magic, doesn't want to know the limits and constraints of it, even though its the basis of everything! And she refused to listen to Yawen and I. She acts as if every piece of advice we give her is an insult to her intelligence. Which is not the case! It's just that it' s dangerous for her to stay with an untrained magic. Dangerous for her, but also for others.

But try to explain that to miss I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about-I-don't-have-magic.

~The Witch's Time (t.2), chapter 7

Market

Today, Flostre didn't have class, which meant that he spent his time following her around, asking her a thousand and one questions (some of which she was unable to answer) and touching everything. Ah, the joys of having a ten-year-old apprentice! He had taken a passion for candles, ever since his mother had dropped him off one day in Huilion's store. Unfortunately, Adaeze was working that day and the kid had just… imprinted on her. So now, when his mother went to the market, when she left to pick up her other kids or just when she needed a break (the gods know the poor woman deserved it), Adaeze had to keep an eye on him.

~Le retour de l'Oubliée (ELT t.1), chapter 12

Muse

"They think Lou is bringing…to tell you the truth, I'm not sure. They said something about her sire or someone from her original nest, but we weren't too sure what that meant, so we're improvising." "Again, I'm sure everything will work out for the best," Iris chirped, hiding her laughter behind her hand. "Look, so far, all our plans have been successful, I don't see why this one would be any different." "If you say so," Alex muttered before kissing me on the cheek and putting on her coat. "But you know if you need help, we're here." "And, if needed, we'll come get you out." Charlie's voice was deep and sincere. The other two nodded at the same time. Behind my back, Ana was silent, but I knew she was watching the situation carefully, despite the toxic mixture coursing through her veins. "You'd come looking for me in a den of overpowered vampires," I repeated with amusement. "Yes. But we'd rather not, so be careful." Iris never lied. Iris couldn't lie, really, but in cases like this, I'd still rather she kept her mouth shut than tell me things like that. No. Even if we were in trouble, I wouldn't call them. I'm not going to have their death on my conscience. Ana would do as she always did, which was to say that she would just do her own thing and rush into danger, regardless of whether I agreed or not, but the others would wisely stay home. "I promise," I lied with my fingers crossed behind my back.

~La Fledgling, chapter 1

Minute

Had she never watched Dirty Dancing before? "This is my dance space, this is your dance space" could, and should, be applied to any situation. If someone was less than sixty centimeters from me, it was already too close. And the vampire's voice was sliding against my skin in an unpleasant way. I rubbed my ear against my bare shoulder, suppressing a shiver. "Whose fault is that, one wonders? Wouldn't it be just great if the hosts saw me standing next to their ruined tablecloth when I've been here for five minutes?" I mumbled under my breath while trying to wipe the blood stain that was still spreading on the white tablecloth. "Why? Are you scared?" I swallowed my initial response which was to repeat that line from the Lion King "danger, I laugh at danger". After all, I was here undercover and given that the mansion didn't even have electricity (really, I was going to have to pay a visit to the Rodins' ASAP), I kind of doubted that anyone in this room had watched a Disney movie.

~La Fledgling, chapter 3

Tagging : @lena-rambles, @ryns-ramblings, @junypr-camus & @amewinterswriting, and anyone who wants to give it a try 💜

Words: trip; throne; tired; tempt; tone

Good luck and have fun !

(@ladyniniane on devrait faire une version francophone ! Je veux lire des extraits de ce que tu écris moi, même si je peux pas lire la fic en entier sous peine de rien comprendre XD)

[writethrough]

Can you write a hurt/comfort Morpheus x F!Reader where the reader is good friends with Morpheus and continuously helps around The Dreaming until the reader’s diminishing presence in the realm due to worsening sleep becomes a point of concern, leading to the discovery that the reader’s insistence to help others is a way for her to put aside her own problems and not have to deal with them, and Morpheus finally convinces her to get the rest she so desperately needs?

Sorry if this is too long or too specific, but if it needs to be cut down, then just a one-shot about a F!Reader who puts everyone else’s needs before her own and Morpheus confronts her about it?

Hiding In Plain Sight

(Morpheus x Female Reader)

Warnings: Burnout, problem avoidance, a bout of insomnia, Reader's father in an accident, language, anxiety, innuendo

Word Count: 2216

A/N: Thank you for the request! This one took me a bit to start because I didn't know where to begin. I tried really hard to do your original idea and not the shortened version so I hope you like it. I did make Morpheus and the reader in an established relationship kinda on accident. I was 80% of the way through when I reread your request and was like shit "good friends." So, I hope that isn't a deal breaker. I also added a tiny little sprinkle of innuendo at the end because the story had a mind of its own at that point.

You had never seen Lucienne so…frazzled. You didn’t think she could be anything other than calm and composed. However, it seemed the Dreaming was going through a "repair," as she put it.

One moment landscapes would disappear or change from green to fuchsia. Books would launch off the shelves. Trees would sprout legs, and those with legs would plant themselves into the ground.

All in all, the Dreaming was experiencing a sort of glitch.

Morpheus and Lucienne were quick to assure you it was nothing to worry about, but it did cause them all a headache. Thankfully, if closely monitored, they could prevent any alterations.

You couldn’t help but giggle the more you thought about it. The Dreaming was in its rebellious teen years.

Lucienne had been spread so thin between the glitching and the library. You offered to take over the latter while you were there. And although she was hesitant, she trusted you, and a few days later, she felt comfortable leaving you alone.

The repetition of cataloging and shelving books helped you more than you’d ever tell her. It made you feel in control, needed, useful.

If she or Morpheus ever asked, you’d say everything was fine. You didn’t want to bother anyone.

Things were weighing on you in the Waking World.

Your rent was increasing. Your boss had tasked you with a large project for the first time. Your coworker had left for maternity leave, and you were picking up her clients and projects.

Additionally, your father had a nasty fall last week. You were constantly driving him to doctor’s appointments and running for anything he needed until he was on his feet again.

It was overwhelming. The mere thought of it all nearly sent you into a panic. You’d do anything to avoid it. So, you found ways to help Morpheus and the other residents of the Dreaming.

You loved it here. Not only for its magic and beauty but for Morpheus, too. He was ever present, even if you couldn’t see him. Being in his realm felt like nothing could touch you. It was like you could breathe a little easier.

He always made it a point to visit you. He’d spend hours with you, and when you questioned him about why he wasn’t dealing with the glitching, he’d give you this tilt of his lips and say, “No need to worry.”

The library wasn’t the only place you found solace from your troubles. Sometimes Merv would let you take on smaller jobs, or you’d hand him tools and keep him company. On other days, you’d watch Goldie while Cain and Abel were away doing something for Morpheus. You had actually taught the gargoyle fetch by accident.

While the creature held a special place in your heart, your favorite thing to do was watch Morpheus create dreams. He was always so invested in making them perfect. It sent a shiver up your spine when he asked for your opinion. And more often than not, he’d utilize it.

You sat in a plush chair he had conjured for you, observing him. He always stood so proud, like nothing could unbalance him. It was reassuring.

“What do you think?” he asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

He had crafted a burgundy creature who stood no taller than three feet. Its fur blew in the subtle breeze as its hooves tentatively tested the shifting sand. Its face was almost frog-like, but its eyes held intelligence that suggested it was wise beyond its years.

You gave Morpheus a small smile. “Perfect.”

The tilt of his lips was the only indication he had heard you. Then, he sent the creature off.

Morpheus was about to say something, but the sky flashing green, then yellow, stopped him.

He stayed trained on it. “They are coming quicker now.”

“How long do you think this will last?” you asked. It had already been two weeks.

“I can’t be certain. But I believe we’re coming to the end.” He offered you his hand to help you up.

“You should give Lucienne a vacation after all this.” You made your way back to the palace, fingers interlocked.

“Perhaps you could fill in for her.” His shoulder brushed yours. “I quite like having you here.”

Your shy grin was answer enough. “I like being here.”

If only you could express how much.

—

You waved goodbye to your neighbor and his daughter as they left. His babysitter had canceled last minute, and you just happened to be within hearing distance from him when it happened. You offered right away. Taking your mind off this project had to help you in the long run. It’d give you fresh eyes. Besides, she was a sweet kid and always wanted to talk about Morpheus, which you wholly welcomed.

She had seen him entering your apartment and asked him so many questions her father had to pull her back inside.

You'd take any chance you got to gush about Morpheus, especially with someone who dreamily compared you two to a prince and princess. A bit self-indulgent? Absolutely. But did it set your heart on fire and make you smile like an idiot? You bet.

If only you could tell her that she wasn’t too far off.

Getting into bed was wonderful. Every day seemed like it got longer and longer. When it finally came time to close your eyes and go to the Dreaming, you would’ve sworn you haven’t been there in months.

You tossed and turned, your mind trailing to the project details, the upcoming appointments for your father, then all of the little things you had to do for yourself. At least when you picked up your dad’s groceries, you could pick up yours. But your heat was acting up, your car had to be inspected, and your coworker’s clients were borderline assholes to you. God forbid you asked a simple question to clarify. They'd jump down your throat like you were supposed to know the answer because obviously, your coworker had all the time to share every detail of their file. Honestly, you couldn’t blame her if she forced the baby out early to get away from them.

Before you knew it, midnight ticked over to five in the morning, and you hadn’t fallen asleep. You hadn’t gotten to see Morpheus. You didn’t get to help the Dreaming.

There was a pit in your stomach throughout the day. It wasn’t like you to not sleep.

All you could do was take a deep breath and power through. At least you didn’t have meetings today. You could focus on your work and chug a shit-ton of coffee and hope you’d make a dent in the workload.

That was wishful thinking.

If anything, you’d been handed more to do. So much so that you had to take some home to finish.

When you finally yawned for the hundredth time, you crawled into bed. You were exhausted. You wanted to be held by Morpheus. To watch as he crafted dreams and kept the Dreaming from going too haywire. 

But again, you couldn't find rest. All you could do was think about what would come tomorrow.

—

“Lucienne, have you seen (Y/N)?” Morpheus asked, searching the areas of the library he could see.

Her brow furrowed. “No, my lord. I thought she was with you today.”

“No.” His voice was faint as if trailing off in thought. “Was she with you yesterday?”

Lucienne set her pen down. “No. I haven’t seen her in quite a few days. Have you spoken to Abel or Mervyn?”

“Yes.” An uneasiness formed in his stomach. “They’ve all said the same.”

“It’s not like her to have trouble sleeping.”

Lucienne was concerned about you recently. The last time she saw you, you seemed distracted. She could tell something was wrong, but when she questioned you, you reassured her, saying everything was fine.

You did the same with Morpheus.

He had sensed an unsteadiness in you. As if you were walking the thinnest of lines between dreaming and consciousness. It was so unlike you. You were always so present when with him that your tension stood out.

He had to make sure you were alright.

“I’m going to check on her,” he said.

Lucienne nodded. “Take as much time as she needs.”

He planned on doing just that.

—

It had been days since you saw Morpheus. Days since you’d been in the Dreaming.

All you wanted to do was inhale the scent of chamomile and sandalwood on his skin and have him tell you everything would be okay.

But your mind wouldn’t shut off. You couldn’t relax enough to go into that deep sleep. And even if you could, Morpheus was still dealing with the glitching. He was busy keeping everything running, and you couldn’t even help because you couldn’t fall asleep!

You carried your dinner plate into the kitchen. Your stomach had been in knots since this morning when your boss emailed you about moving up the due date for the project. It now needed to be submitted tomorrow. Between the appointment you had to take your dad to and meetings you scheduled with your coworker’s clients, you weren’t sure if you’d make it. You’d worked on the project all day, and everything about it screamed: rushed. You’d be working well into the morning to get it anywhere near where you wanted.

You’d barely touched your food and were about to throw it in a container when your foot caught the leg of a barstool. You caught the counter edge but couldn't stop the plate from bouncing off and smashing on the hardwood floor.

That was all it took. The shattering of the dish and the red sauce seeping into the cracks buckled your knees. And you cried.

You couldn’t even stop a damned plate from breaking. How were you going to finish this project? How were you going to care for your dad? How were you going to—

“(Y/N)?”

You gasped, trying to stop the tears and rid yourself of any wetness as you whipped around.

There stood Morpheus, his eyes full of concern.

You bowed your head and wrapped your arms around yourself. Why did he have to see you like this?

Silently, he took you into his arms. His hands slid to your shoulders, bringing you as close to him as possible.

He didn’t speak for the longest time, only let you cry, let you rid yourself of the frustration and panic and worry. Your weight slowly sank into him as you wore yourself out.

When you were reduced to sniffling, he finally spoke.

“Do you want to tell me?”

You wanted to say no, to pretend everything was fine, and hold him. But it had felt like forever since you’d been with him, and you forgot just how powerful he was. Not because he was an Endless, but how he looked at you—like you were a crucial part of him. Like he needed to know everything about you. Like he loved you.

So, you told him. Everything you’ve dealt with these past few months and all your insecurities. You cried again, and he held you again. And all throughout, that look never changed. He never thought less of you.

“My heart,” he whispered once you’d finished. “You must take care of yourself.” His thumb brushed along your cheekbone. “Before taking care of others.”

“But I don’t—it doesn’t—”

“Let me help you.” His eyes were so soft, so gentle, so pleading. 

You stared at him through tears. He had always been there for you. He was as solid and stable as a statue with the warmth of the sun. He wanted to take care of you and love you and he saw you. He saw you as no one else did.

You slowly nodded, letting out a choked sob as you threw your arms around his neck.

“I am here, my love,” he breathed into your temple. “I am here.”

Your cries quieted for the last time; his hand's rhythmic motion on your back made it easy. You didn’t want to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, eyes still closed and head in the crook of his shoulder.

“You need not apologize for anything. I should have been more aware.”

“You had a whole kingdom to worry about,” you said into his neck.

“You are my priority.” He pulled back to cup your cheeks, ensuring you couldn’t look away. “I will always choose you.”

Words couldn’t express what that meant—they couldn’t properly reciprocate. So, you did the one thing that could potentially match it.

You pulled him by his jacket into a searing kiss. You poured everything you were into it as his hands gripped your hips.

Yours slid into his hair, the silky strands tangling in your fingers. You couldn’t bring him close enough.

You had to separate, but he didn’t let you go far, making you pant into his mouth.

“Come,” he urged. “I have neglected you. I must remedy my mistake.”

His seriousness made you giggle, and a smile slipped onto his face.

“My favorite sound,” he said, grazing your bottom lip. Then, a glint ignited his eyes, and the corner of his lips lifted. “I intend to get my other favorite out of you.”

[blackbat05]

Whatever it takes

Fred Weasley x Reader

A/N: To my faithful followers, you must also know that I'm a huge HP fan! Recently had a lot of things on my mind and I thought this would be the best way to recollect my thoughts and also start on a new character! Enjoy and like/comment/reblog!🙏🏼

Genre: PG-13, please read with care.

Notes: Creating my own stuff? So some things may not be the same as what we fans know in the HP Universe! The concept is mostly the same though. And to me, all my favs are still alive. Mentions of real-life topics (e.g. discrimination).

***

A poof could be heard from the kitchen, which could only mean one thing. Your mind is no longer wrought with anxiety as a familiar redhead peeks into the living room.

'Hello love.' Fred kisses your cheek, taking a seat on the sofa.

'You hurt?' You hate to have your recent conversations start off like this as of late but you knew it was necessary. As much as you loved him, he was one stubborn git.

'No,' he sees the doubtful look that you throw him. 'Honest, it's just a few cuts - failed to detect a hex while trying to get a kid back home. You sighed, wordlessly taking out your wand as he stretches out his arm.

As you work the fresh injuries that scattered on his forearm, you see the framed picture behind Fred. It was summer of 94', not too long after you got together with him. He came running into your common room, telling you that you were invited to spend your holidays with the wonderful Weasley family.

You could vividly remember the happenings of the photo - Ron attempting to shake George away, Ginny getting piggybacked from Charlie, Percy being... Percy while Harry and Hermione look on with amusement

So where did it all go wrong?

The staunch supporters of Voldermort lurking in the midst of the wizarding world, ready to strike at their master's order? Or the Ministry in denial, assuring the community that this was merely just a baseless rumor? Or corrupt officials posing as the good guys? Waiting to strike out the boy who lived once and for all.

'Just be careful not to say his name around mom.' Fred reminds you.

It was one of these days where you wanted to retort back, but your logical side tells you to stand down. So you simply nod, changing to another topic.

'Did Ron contact you?'

Fred shakes his head, 'It's too risky. Death eaters are monitoring every single transmission that's recognized by the Ministry. But they'll be ok.' His eyes catch a couple of documents lying on the table. 'Remus?'

'I'm helping him to develop a secure channel for travel. We're hoping to take some death eaters by surprise.'

'How?'

'Well, he may have loyal followers who blindly do his bidding but we have people who are willing to fight for peace no matter what. And that is greater than anything else.' You heal the last bit of his cuts.

Fred sees your facial expression lined with worry. A pang of guilt hits him in the gut. You had enough on your plate as a muggle-born. Now, you had associations with the most hated wizarding family.

'Stop it, Freddie.' You pull him out of his thoughts. He looks at you blankly. 'You're going there again. Don't.' The two of you had this argument multiple times. Him leaving you.

'I chose this. I cannot be living in fear and I certainly cannot have my parents becoming a target. If you fight, I'll fight until the end with you.'

He takes your hand in his, sitting in front of the fireplace. The amber glow clearly brings out his battle-worn figure, and you cannot help but tear at the feeling of his calloused hand.

'I'm gonna kill these bastards if it's the last thing I do.'

But of course, you don't tell him that.

***

A second blast nearly knocks you out, but you manage to take cover under the rubble. A figure runs to you, hands filled with various pottered plants. You recognized that dirt-covered blouse anywhere.

'Professor Sprout?'

'Quick! Lob these over!' She gives you a carnivorous plant that could breathe fire when fully grown. You were about to toss it over when you see him. Or rather, it.

Consumed by rage, you take the plant with you, having a very clear idea of what you're about to do with it.

***

Fred sends another repulsion charm into a Death eater who topples into the chaos below. He turns his attention to the traumatized Ravenclaw girl, passing her over to Katie.

'Have you seen Y/N?'

'She ran past me a few minutes ago!' Katie informs him. 'I think she was chasing Greyback.'

His heart stops, unable to process the information. 'Where? Katie, where did she go?'

Fred runs towards what used to be the Hufflepuff common room. As he gets past the smoke, he sees two figures within the ring of fire.

He wants to get to you, to fight with you. On the third step, the explosion throws him back.

The last thing he sees is Fenir lunging for your neck.

***

'Your sister was killed by Fenir Greyback?'

'I didn't know until my parents told me. Of course, they believed it was a car accident gone wrong. But I know a wolf bite when I see one.'

'And you must be the younger mudblood.' Greyback wolfishly grins at you, blood dripping from his fangs that only fuelled your anger. He doesn't miss you gripping your wand tightly, causing your knuckles to turn white.

'You will pay for the blood that you spilled. I'm going to make you pay for the crimes you inflicted on these children.' Your voice trembled. You knew the risks of putting an enlargement spell on the deadly plant, but the animal needed to pay for his part in this war.

Throwing the plant, you pointed your wand straight at Greyback who was maliciously taunting you. Then your vision changes.

All those late nights, sitting with Fred in the living room, wondering when this madness, this unreasonable crusade would end. Despite the darkness looming over your head, those moments were the brightest for you.

You wonder if you were hallucinating as you see Fred running from the main hall, mouth desperately forming words.

'I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.'

***

Molly Weasley trotters along the streets of London, arriving at the same run-down shop. Ensuring that the muggles were occupied getting about, she steps through the glass door, arriving at St Mungo.

She walked past the reception, having memorized the directory by heart. Getting into the lift, she presses the button with the small sign 'long-term stay' beside it.

The war was over, things were slowly getting back to normal. But Molly knew that it would never be the same. She walks into the ward, setting her basket beside her son who was occupying the other visitor chair.

'Any progress?'

Fred smiles ruefully at his mother. 'Healer Haden doesn't see her waking up soon.'

She sits beside him, watching the sun overlook wizards and witches go by their daily living.

'She should have been there when we won.' Fred's bitterness bites through the air. 'It's not fair that after everything she's been through, she's lying here mom, it's not fair. I really thought we could start a life together.'

Molly can only sympathize. She takes out a yellow journal from the basket, passing it to Fred who looks puzzled.

'Y/N's never kept a journal before.'

'Must be during the war. Your father managed to get the Ministry to turn it over.'

This jogs Fred's memory. 'That's why she ran. The Ministry-'

'They raided her house when she was identified as a major critic of Pius Thicknesse.' Molly admits. Fred does not know how to respond.

His mother finally leaves, leaving him deep in thoughts. Fred stares at the journal sitting at your bedside.

No, that would be an invasion of your privacy.

'One day when this all ends, I don't want people to forget the blood that was spilled in exchange for peace.'

Curiosity pulls him in like a magnet. Cradling your journal in his hands strangely brings him a sense of comfort, knowing that this was proof of your presence. He opens the book, bringing himself to be beside you.

***

Fred was fast asleep on the bed. You slip out of the covers, not wanting to wake him. Today was another difficult day. Another auror dead. Another trusted ally, gone.

And Fred was there to witness everything.

He sees you moving towards the porch, quill at the ready. He knows that he's imagining this through your words, but he's hesitant about violating your privacy.

People are dying because of a twisted ideology. Am I scared? Beyond terrified. No one wins. But what choice do we have? I'm not going to live in fear because of my status or my skin color. I have come to realize that peace isn't given. It is earned.

I'm honored and comforted to know that despite the viciousness that comes living in this world, there are people who are right and just, who are willing to fight the good fight.

Everyone's limits are being tested. But Fred's confident that we'll win. Maybe that's just our denial trying to shield us. I call it hope. Much needed hope. The only thing that keeps me going.

Hermione helped me to track down Dad and Mom a few weeks ago. They're currently in Japan. Perhaps when this war is over, I can finally lift the spell. There's so much that I want to tell them.

Freddie. I'll bring him along too. I'm sure he'll love to see Asia. We'll travel for a bit and maybe settle down. He hopes for baby girls one day and that's not surprising seeing that he was nearly raised in almost a house full of boys.

Children. Yes. I'm fighting so that my future child can continue to enjoy the peace. I'm fighting so that they can coexist with pure-bloods, half-bloods, and muggle-borns.

Whatever it takes.

A teardrop wets the letter S on the page. What did the world have against the two of you to pull such a cruel and elaborate trick? He thinks about your parents, blissfully unaware of their daughter who had a major role in stopping the war.

Fred looks at you, sleeping peacefully. He doesn't want to leave your side.

He also will not mope around. You wouldn't want that.

He knows what he has to do.

***

Tokyo, Japan

6 months later

The bright neon lights flashed around him, muggle Christmas music blasting through their muggle speakers as Fred walks through Takeshita Street. He steps aside to prevent being trampled over by the crowd.

Taking out the photograph of you and him, he points it towards the skies, taking a photo. You would have been proud of him for using the camera.

You would have loved it here.

'God woman! The number of lights! They could light up the entire Hogsmeade!'

'You're right, but they have really good food ok! You have to come with me one day, you won't regret it! Muggle food is so much better than what Ron makes it out to be.'

He can't help but feel jealous at the couples walking along the streets, enjoying what Christmas had to offer.

Fred sees it from afar. A Patronus in the shape of a magpie moving towards the back alley that Fred was at. Fred moves quickly, anxious about what was to come.

The Patronus opens its mouth, with the voice of his dear twin brother emitting from it. What happened next, he certainly did not expect.

'Fred, she's awake.'

***

A/N: Not me writing this in one whole sitting? Guess that's what happened when you're very done with your assignments and just have things in mind. Hope you enjoyed it! Not sure how my nighttime writing fared🙃.

[writerofshit]

For almost 3 years the crew doesn't know when Matt's birthday is. This is solely because he never brought it up and sometimes the crew thinks he might have sprouted, fully formed, in front of a computer monitor roughly ten years ago. He didn't. He does in fact have a birthday.

When the crew finally realizes this, Trevor takes one for the team in trying to figure it out. He makes a point to bring it up all nonchalantly, 'yeah, Lindsay says you do that because you're a Virg-....Aquari-... Gemini?' complete with arched eyebrows and wide eyes.

And Matt's an observant guy, yeah, but more so when it comes to patterns in bank transactions or when the local donut shop has his favorite donuts available. People, even friends, are another story entirely. So he just shrugs. 'what does me being a Gemini have to do with liking mustard on a hot dog?'

But Trevor doesn't have an answer for that, of course, because it was bullshit to begin with. Instead he mumbles something about stars and time and relish, scurries off to tell Jeremy what he's learned. Which isn't much, sure, but at least they've got a window now.

The entire crew spends a ridiculous amount of time dropping opinions on May and June dates. 'yeah I'd hate to be born on June 2nd. Wouldn't you, Matt?' and 'May 27th is my favorite date for sure. What's yours, Matt?' and 'i've never met someone with the same birthday as me, May 23rd. Have you, Matt?'

And again, yeah, Matt's an observant guy. Most people, in fact, are probably observant enough to notice when an entire group of criminals act really fucking weird about the calendar. But again, Matt's observant about things like tiny movements on camera feeds or that there's not extra onion on this burger, actually. So he shrugs and says 'yeah I knew someone growing up who was June 6th. We used to argue about who could have a party. I always lost.' like this isn't information the entire crew has been fishing for over the last month. They probably could have asked outright and Matt wouldn't have cared.

It's honestly kind of annoying.

The week his birthday rolls around again, they go all out. Big ass fucking party, invite everyone they can think of. Every old friend not turned enemy, crews they've talked about working with but never got around to, minor celebrities they know Matt will get a kick out of toasting in his honor. It might actually be the biggest party or event or goddamn crowd Los Santos has ever seen. All there for Matt. All celebrating this guy most people have never seen.

It's a kickass time. Matt gets hoisted up and sung to, then Michael, then Fiona, then someone Matt is sure he's never met. 'It's a cover.' Jeremy drunkenly yells in his ear. 'So no one knows who's really you.' It's a sentence that's not quite right, but Matt appreciates the sentiment. It's also probably not even accurate, given that he was the first up and they've made him cut a cake on a stage, for some godforsaken reason. It's the thought that counts, though.

All in all, Matt thinks it might be the most fun he has ever had.

Two days later, on his actual birthday, it's almost the complete opposite. In terms of scale, at least. It's just the crew, up in the old penthouse Geoff swore he'd sold. He hadn't, of course. Never could bring himself to pull the trigger on it.

It's pizza and beer and donuts and cupcakes. It's Mario Kart and Ultimate Chicken Horse and a game of Monopoly that's played in teams, somehow. It's stories that reach all the way back to an alleyway, three idiots pointing guns at each other because they had no idea what they would become, what they'd join into. Jeremy says they were 'pretty sure Matt had never held a fucking gun before that' and Trevor agrees wholeheartedly.

They try to pick their favorite 'Matt's playing music over the loud speakers during a fucking bank robbery' song. It's a tie between Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go ('because i knocked out that fuckin' guard and he thought it was funny!' Michael yells. 'who the fuck thinks of that?' and Call Me Maybe ('because god forbid i take one breath before I answer him. I wasn't even in the bank, i was across the fucking street playing lookout! I only heard it through somebody's earpiece.' Alfredo says, rolling his eyes.)

When the night winds down, and it's no longer Matt's birthday but they're still pretending it is, Jack brings out an apple with a candle stuck in it and Geoff cries with laughter. 'you're getting older, Matt, you gotta eat more fruit.' she says. Matt argues that he does eat fruit, he had a lemon lime flavored cupcake at the party.

There's one whole serious moment during all of it. Things get quiet, Geoff not quite meeting anyone's eyes. 'y'know, Matt, we all make a lot of jokes. We call you an asshole, tell you we hate the plans you make. I don't know how many times I've said I regret hiring you, or any of you, really. And, uh, yeah, sometimes it's true.' It earns him a chuckle from around the room, and he clears his throat. 'but seriously, you're, uh, you're one of the best fuckin people I know. All of you are. And we're lucky to have you. We love you, man.'

Nobody cries, because this is a group of hardened criminals who rob banks and blow up buildings and kill people, sometimes, so of course they don't fucking cry. They do, however, somehow all find themselves with a serious case of the sniffles, all wipe totally non existent tears from their cheeks.

No one says anything, for a long moment, not even Matt. He should be saying thank you, or telling them how much he loves them too, or hell, even cracking a joke. He can't seem to find the words, though.

Jack holds up her beer. 'to Matt.' she says. Around the room, various drinks go up almost immediately, and there's a not even close to in sync chorus of 'to Matt.'

No, tonight is not nearly as grand or extravagant as the party two days ago. There are no expensive cars being raced, no crowds of people shouting 'Axial!', no stages or celebrities or fireworks. This is just his family, together.

It is the best birthday he's ever had.

[imawholeassmood]

Supercortober Day 29: Tea

AO3 if you prefer. I apologize in advance for this :)

“Ok, spill.”

Alex turns from the monitor to Nia, her brows twisted in confusion. “Spill what?”

“The tea,” Nia says with conviction.

“Is that supposed to mean something? Why would I spill tea, there’s not even tea here,” Alex says and looks around the tower.

Nia looks at her like she sprouted a second head.

“Who spilled tea?” J’onn’s booming voice fills the room when he enters. “This might be a Martian ship, but there’s plenty of Earth technology here that could be damaged with uncontained liquids.” He draws his hands to his hips and lets out a sigh. “Perhaps I should install a break room.” “What?” Nia says, “no, J’onn, that’s not what-”

“A breakroom is a fantastic idea.” Brainy follows M’Gann into the control room and cuts Nia off. “Studies show regular breaks can help prevent burnout.” He draws his fingers together and tents them in front of his chest. “Having a separate space reduces the temptation to eat your lunch while you work. I’m guilty of doing that myself.”

M’gann nods and says, “I’m partial to flexible work hours. The bar was really great for setting my own schedule.”

“Well,” Kelly says as she walks in and settles next to Alex, “having more control over your work and schedule for some, correlates to having a greater sense of control over your life as a whole. Whenever people feel they’ve lost control, it can be very overwhelming.”

Beside her, Alex agrees and leans in to drop a kiss on Kelly’s cheek.

“It sounds like we could all benefit from a retreat,” J’onn says, “maybe we could find one off-world.”

Alex adds, “we could arrange it with Barry or the Legends to look after National City for a few days.” She shrugs. “Take advantage of having us all on the same earth, right?”

Nia stands in awe, wondering how the conversation got so far away from her original request. She tries to get things back in line. “Not that I wouldn’t love a vacation,” she says, “but I was actually asking about Kara.” “Oh, yes,” J’onn says, “Kara’s certainly been through a lot this year. If anyone’s earned some time off, it’s her. Good thinking, Dreamer.” He drops his bearclaw of a hand on her shoulder and pats twice.

“Thanks,” she says and scrunches her nose, “I think.” Nia surveys the room and her eyes jump from one face to another, everyone mulling over the idea of a collective retreat. She pushes on. “It’s just, well, has anybody else noticed that Kara seems different lately?”

“Different how?” Brainy says. “I’ve noticed no changes in her composition.”

“I don’t know,” Nia says and hunches under the weight of the anticipatory stares setting upon her. This whole conversation feels lightyears away from where it started and she mentally kicks herself for prying in the first place. She kicks herself again for not having the good sense to keep her mouth shut. “She seems happy.”

“Is that not one of the desired benefits of taking a vacation?” Brainy says and looks like he’s cycling through all of his mental indexes to see where his information might have gotten crossed.

M’gann gives him a look to reassure him. “What’s wrong with Kara being happy?”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it,” Nia says, “but we just agreed that Kara’s had a rough year so it just seems like maybe a little off.” Her voice trails off as she falters in her conviction. “You know what? It’s none of my business. Forget I said anything.”

“No, wait,” Alex says with concern. She steps away from Kelly and shakes a finger in the air. “Nia might have a point here. Kara has been acting really happy lately, like too happy. Maybe she’s been infected with something.”

“She could be masking,” J’onn says.

“Now, wait a minute,” Kelly says, “before we go making any diagnoses, maybe we should just talk to her.”

“Talk to who?”

“Kara,” Alex says and almost chokes trying to cough down her nervous laugh. Kara eyes her with more confusion than concern while Kelly rubs Alex’s back. Nia covers her mouth to hide her smile. When Alex recovers, she says, “when did you get here?”

“I’ve been here,” she says and Alex’s eyes bulge. “I was with Lena in the lab. We were uh…” she waves her hand in a circle looking for the right word.

“Testing a hypothesis.” Lena finishes for her and steps in behind Kara.

“Yes! Yep, that,” Kara says, “experimenting.”

The laugh bursts out of Nia and bounces up the walls into the air above them. Even as every pair of eyes turns to her, Nia makes no effort to contain herself. She bends at the waste and raspy squeals leak out of her between each labored intake of air. By the time she composes herself enough to stand at attention, mascara filled tears stain her face and mask. She waves a hand in front of her face to dry her eyes.

Alex casts her eyes to Kara before landing back on Nia with a scrutinizing glare. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” Nia says, “it’s more than ok. Everything is,” she walks towards the door and stops in front of Kara, “perfect.” When Kara scrunches her brows in question, Nia drops her voice and does her best to indicate a spot on her own neck at the base of her ear. “You got a little uh,” and Kara’s eyes widen a split second before she snaps her hand to the spot and rubs away the final remnants of deep red lipstick.

Alex interrupts the moment. “Where are you going?”

Nia turns back to Alex and the others who appear none the wiser. She steps backwards towards the door. “I’m gonna go,” she says, “have some tea.”

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Sunflower

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When Y/N joins the team, Bucky isn’t fond of her but as time goes on, she begin to form bond with the team and with him.

Warning: Swearing, torture, violence, death

Words: 20,971

A/N: All translations were made using Google, so sorry if they are wrong! This is also my first Marvel fic, and my first Bucky fic, so all feedback is welcome!

Master List   Tag List

 May

You’re nervous. Your palms sweat, even with the air conditioner pumping through the compound, and your heartbeat is elevated. You know that your presence is allowed but you don’t know whether they will accept you. After all, you were part of one of the most atrocious organisations that had ever existed.

Hydra was wicked, cruel, sadistic, merciless and they were your past.

 When approached and asked to be part of a drug trial, you had accepted. You were young, barely eighteen, and living on the streets of Krasnoyarsk. You had struggled to care for yourself, the orphanage having kicked you out a few months previous, and you had jumped at the chance of having a place to stay and food in your belly.

 It wasn’t until you were taken in, subjected rigorous testing, that you found out where you are. The company name they had originally given you was fabricated, and your insides turned to ice as you saw the Hydra symbol.

 You were, in a sense, tricked.

 You were trapped there, no way out and you knew you wouldn’t leave alive. You had, in a way, signed your own death warrant. You had been foolish, your mind to focused on food and a bed to properly ask about the company who wanted you. Saying that, they probably would have killed you if you had asked to many questions anyway.

 For three years, you were put through your paces. They taught you languages; English, German, Spanish, French, Romanian, Italian and others. You had to learn quick, and you were given daily tests. If you got a question wrong, a fist hit your stomach. If you completed the test with more than two wrong answers, you were sent to the Palach [Punisher]. His methods of…correcting…you varied. Beatings, cuttings, breakings, whippings…

 They also taught you how to fight. They didn’t go easy on you, in fact, it was the exact opposite. The trainer used his full force, you couldn’t tap out. You adapted, or you got hurt. He’d almost killed you once, just to show you how easy it was.

 It had taken you over two years, but you had developed your own style of fighting by studying his. While he was brutish, using his pure strength, you used your small structure. Your moves could be likened to those of a snake, you would slip around him, strike in the most unexpected of places and take him down that way. You fought like it was a dance, gracefully and beautifully.

 You also learned how to use a variety of weapons. You could shoot a range of guns now, could strip and clean them too. You were confident with knives, easily able to add them to a fight and harm your opponent. They’d even taught you how to use a bow and arrow, and a crossbow, though they weren’t a first choice of Hydra.

 In your three years, you learned more than you thought you were would. Did you want to learn all of this? No, of course not. You had no choice. With was either adept and learn or be killed. You didn’t want to die.

 Your final ‘test’, as they called it, was to take another person’s life. A young man, barely of age, with dark brown hair and green eyes. His eyes were rimmed red, tears trailing over his high cheekbones and dripping over the cloth stuffed in his mouth and off his chiselled jaw. You didn’t know his name, but his face would never leave you.

 You had hesitated a moment. You weren’t a killer, not by choice at least. You didn’t want to kill the young man, murder was not in your blood. However, you knew that it had been leading up to this moment. Why else would they be keeping you, training you?

 It was kill or be killed. So, you shot him.

 From there, the training was over. Then, the ‘drug trial’ began. For the first time in five years, you were given meals three times a day, for a week straight. They were building up your strength for what was to come. What were they going to do, that you would need to be so prepared for?

 You were reading a Mandarin language-learning book when they came in. You could converse in the language well enough, but it wasn’t your best. And you had to give your best. Four soldiers and three people in lab coats. The soldiers carried guns and had knives strapped to them, you knew they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you if you tried to fight and run. You had seen that happen to another ‘subject’.

 You had been taken to lab where they usually tested you. When you entered, the three scientists joined their other eight colleagues. Your normal tests had only been conducted by three scientists, one preparing the tests and equipment, one doing the actual testing, and the final one recording the results. Seeing so many scientists, you knew this was it, that this was ‘the big day’, so to speak.

 You were strapped down, thick leather tightened around your body to hold you to the metal table. Your left arm was outstretched, your inner elbow exposed.

 Everyday you had been kept at Hydra, you had been scared. But at that moment, on that cold metal table, your fear was heightened. You didn’t know why. They had taught you how to kill, how to lie, how to steal, hack, seduce even… but they left you with fear. They wanted you to fear them, it would ensure your loyalty.

 Electrodes were attached to your forehead, the metal discs roughly pressed against your temple. A heart rate monitor was clipped to your finger and a blood pressure cuff was put around your right arm.

 You could hear the machine showing your heartrate increased as a scientist moved towards your left arm. In his hand, he held a large syringe. A think, green liquid swirled in it. It was vile looking, it was something you would expect to see in a swamp. He took your arm in one hand, bracing himself before pushing the needle through the skin of your inner elbow.

 As soon as the green mixture had entered your body, you had been set alight. You’d cried, screamed, begged for them to make it stop. Since joining Hydra, you had went through pain but this was unlike anything you had ever felt. Your whole body was on fire, flames burning you up from the inside.

 It hadn’t taken long for your eyes to roll and for you to pass out in pain.

 You had woken up three days later. You didn’t know what they had injected you with but it didn’t taken long for you to discover the results of it. When you got angry after being tied down, the ground had shaken. The stone floor had cracked and began to crumble. When you were scared when the guards entered, vines had extended from the walls to enclose you. When your hand had sat on the wooden table, a flower sprouted, its thorns wickedly sharp.

 You had could create and control the earth and plant-life.

 It was a terrifying discovery. You had walked into Hydra as a weak orphan, yet now you were a trained killer. You had walked into that lab a human, and now… now you were something else. You couldn’t be called a mutant; you were born like this. You were created. You were an experiment. A test subject.

 For two more years, you were subjected to more testing and more training. Hydra pushed you to the limits of your ability, seeing what you were capable of and forcing you to improve. You gained more control over time, soon able to completely control the earth around you with little effort. You also had to ‘update’ your technique with your new abilities. You learned how to weave your gift into your fighting style, making you all the more dangerous.

 Though you were skilled, you knew that someone would still be able to take you down.

 You had heard about him. The Soldat. You had heard the scientists whisper his name, but it was the guards outside your room which provided the information.

 “Soldat escaped” the first guard murmured quietly.

“Do you think they’ll send her after him?” the second questioned, just as quiet. You knew he was referring to you.

“Probably” the first confirmed. “They’d send her to the chair first. Still, with his metal arm he would beat her. It will be a waste.”

 You didn’t know what the chair was, but you knew it was bad. Thankfully, you never got to meet it.

 Less then a year later, the base you were kept at was stormed by the Avengers. You had seized the moment. While the guards had rushed to fight them off, you had broken the door of your room. A thick, green vine had curled around the large handle and ripped it from its hinges.

 You had run from the metal room, which they had put you in after discovering your abilities, and you hadn’t looked back. You had lifted a hand in front of you, causing a stone wall to break and you had climbed through, running into the forest.

 You escaped and went on the run. You were sure that those who had kept you at the base had either been captured or killed by the Avengers. Being in prison, or in a grave, they wouldn’t be able to come after you.

 You hadn’t counted on the Avengers not coming after you, though. You hadn’t thought of it previously but of course Hydra had files on you. When they had seized control of the base, the Avengers gained access to those files. They found out about who you were, what you could do. You were dangerous.

 It had put on the run from both sides. Other sources of Hydra might still know of you and want you, but now, the Avengers wanted you too.

 While on the run, you had heard more about The Soldat. While they called him that often, his code name was The Winter Soldier. He was a man out of time, taken by Hydra, turned into a weapon and frozen. He was a victim of the organisation, just like you. They had turned him into a super-soldier and given him a metal arm, strong enough to crush people’s skulls. No doubt strong enough to destroy you. Even with your abilities, he was stronger and more experienced than you.

 You knew they were after him, just like how they were after you.

 Then, it happened. Khvatka. Der Schnappschuss. The Snap.

 One minute, you were fine. The next, your hand had tingled. As you looked down, it began to turn to dust. You had been shocked, but that soon turned to horror as your arm turned to dust and surely… so did the rest of you.

 It seemed like only a moment later, you were opening your eyes again. Everything around you looked different, there were buildings surrounding you which hadn’t been there before. You knew you were in the same place though, the earth beneath your feel felt the same.

 You hadn’t understood what happened at first but then you had stolen the newspaper and heard people talking. Then, you understood. Half of all life, sentient and non-sentient, had been erased from the universe. And you were part of that half. You had been erased.

 You didn’t think it would affect you much. You had nothing before The Snap, you had nothing after. You were wrong. In a few short months following The Snap, the Avengers caught up with you.

 The Scarlett Witch, Captain America, Iron Man and The Black Widow.

 “I’m not going back to some lab!” you had growled at them, before running.

 They had caught you. in fairness, you would have been able to escape, but since leaving Hydra, you had refused to inflict harm. Your actions towards the Avengers were all in defence, and they had noticed that you didn’t not make an offensive move on them. You could have hurt them, killed them even, but instead, you just blocked.

 You had been so focused in not hurting them, The Flacon had been able to sneak up behind you and with a sharp prick to your neck, knock you unconscious.

 You had been extremely lucky that you only fought defensively. After extensively looking over your file, noticing your singular kill in, arguably, self-defence, you had been invited to join the Avengers. You didn’t know how they had arranged it, after all, you had previous ties to Hydra. However, it was either join them or be held in a secure unit.

 It wasn’t a tough choice.

 That led you to this moment. Standing outside of the meeting room which held all of the team members. While you knew there was a core group, there were many other notable members which weren’t always included in the specific name.

 “You ready?” Steve Rogers, Captain America, asked.

You rolled your lips between your teeth for a moment in nervousness before you nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.

“Okay, lets do this” he pushes the door open, stepping into the room and holding the door for you to follow.

 Most of the team was on edge with you at first, watching you wearily. They knew who you were, where you had spent nearly six years of your life. You didn’t blame them for not trusting you straight away. Their trust was something you were going to have to earn. The only person to fully accept you straight away was the Scarlett Witch, Wanda Maximoff.

 She had previously been a test subject of Hydra which had given her gifts, including telepathy. You knew she had looked into your mind straight away and while it was invasive, you understood. By looking into you mind, she would know your thoughts, feelings and intentions. What she saw obviously convinced her you owed no ill will, which was true, and she readily welcomed you.

 The rest of the team politely nodded, said hello or gave you an awkward smile. Peter Parker, the youngest of the Avengers, seemed to do all three. Though he was obviously nervous of you, you had been with Hydra, he stilled tried to welcome you enthusiastically. It was sweet of him, you thought, offering the teenager a small smile.

 “Funny suit” you commented, head slightly tilted as your eyes looked over the spiderweb pattern.

He looks down at his suit before nodding at you. “Thanks. I’m Spider-Man.”

You hummed in amusement, he was a little too young to be considered a man, but it was cute.

 The rest of the team greeted you until you got to the final member.

 Standing close to the door, in a position allowing him to have complete view of the room and the entrance was someone you recognised description alone. He was tall, with long, dark hair which made his blue-grey eyes stand out. His mouth was set in a hard line as he watched you, arms folded across his chest. Though he had on a long-sleeved shirt and his hand was hidden by his right arm, you knew his left arm was metal.

 This was The Soldat, The Winter Soldier.

 You tried not to react. This was the man who could take you down, with absolute certainty. Hydra said he would be able to do it, you had to believe in that fact. Looking at him now, you could see why they came to that conclusion. He was much larger than you.

 “This is Bucky” Steve introduced.

“da [yes]” you can’t help but fall into Russian. There was something about him that made your mind fall back to Hydra, where they had only allowed you to converse in Russian. It was probably because that was where you knew him from. His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared minutely. His head titled up and he looked down his nose at you. Tensing, you quickly spoke again. “Sorry.”

“Dobro pozhalovat’ v komandu [Welcome to the team]” his voice was gruff and low. As soon as the words were out, we passed you, careful not to touch you, and left the room.

 Steve apologised for his friend, watching him go without a single glance back. You waved off his apology, assuring him that Bucky wasn’t rude and that you had probably unintentionally made him uncomfortable by speaking Russian.

 Later in the evening, you ate dinner with the rest of the Avengers, but you didn’t see Bucky again.

  July

 You collapsed onto the couch, holding the cold-water bottle against your neck. You had peeled off your suit, which was similar to Natasha’s but was dark green in colour and taken a shower. Though the water had been cool, your body was still hot.

 “Move” Wanda ordered.

 You sat up slightly, allowing her to sit down before you rested you head in her lap. She moaned as she sunk into the cushions of the couch, and you knew her body ached just as yours did. She adjusted herself again, and then her hand moved to play with your hair.

 Since joining the Avengers two months ago, your relationships with the members had improved. You were closest to Wanda, who had quickly become a close friend and confidant. In your first few days at the compound, you had been quiet and just observed the team, not taking part in their talks and jokes. Wanda, however, made sure to speak quietly to you at every meal. She slowly brought you out of your shell and encouraged you to develop your relationships with the other members.

 Your relationships with the rest of the team was varied.

 As Wanda trusted you, Vision seemed to be open to you. He wasn’t your biggest fan, believe that with your abilities, you posed a strong threat. However, he was respectful. He would often join you and Wanda for film nights and would keep you both supplied with popcorn. He spoke to you politely, but never singled you out for conversation. It strangely hurt your feelings, considering how close you were to Wanda, but you accepted his attitude towards you.

 Upon seeing you use your gift, Peter Parker wanted to spend time with you whenever you were both at the compound. He was fascinated by the power of your abilities and the level of control you had. He asked multiple questions, eager to understand how you were able to do what you could. While it had made you uncomfortable at first, you soon began to appreciate his interest. He didn’t want to know these things because he wanted to use you, or because he was scared but because he admired you.

 And while you spoke about your abilities often, you also spoke about him. He was struggling with his language class and, being fluent in most languages, you had offered to help. He had also shyly asked you to forge Aunt May’s signature on his language test when he got a bad grade. You had done it, but you had told him he needed to speak to May about it.

 Aunt May was accepting of your relationship towards Peter. At first, she had been weary, which you couldn’t blame her for, but then her attitude changed in the few weeks between visits. You think it was Peter’s doing, that he had gone home and spoken about you. Perhaps told her that you helped with his schoolwork, that every weekend you’d give him a bunch of flowers for his girlfriend, MJ. Or maybe about the time you scolded him for his recklessness on a mission and sent him to his room at the compound without dessert.

 While Aunt May was his mother figure, you had seemed to have taken on the role of overprotective older sister. A role which May seemed happy for you to have. She had spoken to you just last week about how grateful she was that you were helping Peter and keeping an eye on him while on missions.

 Tony Stark had taken somewhat of a liking towards you. He had provided you with your new suit and various weapons, all of which you were grateful for. Just like with the rest of the team, he did tend to tease you. He often called you Ivy after the famous ‘Poison Ivy’ from Batman. It was so common to hear that nickname, it was sometimes used instead of your codename.

 You didn’t have a codename when you were with Hydra, they just called you ‘The Subject’, but joining the Avengers had afforded you one. Hemlock. It was a stupid codename and you had immediately hated whoever had assigned it to you. You understood the choosing of it, it was a deadly plant, but still… it was stupid.

 Though Tony’s nickname was unoriginal, and it occasionally annoyed you, you much preferred it. Hemlock just seemed presumptuous. It was a deadly planet and having that as your codename, would make you appear to be deadly. You had the potential to be, yes, but you had only ever harm one person and that was out of a need for survival.

 Natasha Romanoff usually observed you quietly, as if waiting for you to flip and attack. However, she didn’t go out of her way to make you unwelcome. She included you in conversation and would normally speak in Russian, which was also her native language, but you think that was to annoy Tony. He hated to be excluded.

 She was sassy, her jokes hidden within her words. Though you hadn’t grown close with her yet, you could see yourself favouring her in the future. There was an appeal about her, she was mysterious, and it kept people interested, wanting to know more. You were no exception.

 You had only seen Clint Barton once or twice, but he was always nice. He also adopted Tony’s nickname, calling you that more often that your own name. He didn’t seem to care for you though, not in a mean way, but in a way which he doesn’t view you as a threat. Which was refreshing.

 It was from Tony that you learned Clint lived on a farm with his family, who had previously lost to The Snap. It was nice to know that while being a ‘hero’ didn’t mean you couldn’t have a normal, quiet life.

 James Rhodes was another member of the Avengers that you didn’t have much contact with. Though you saw him around the compound, it was only ever in passing. He was often with not alone, with Tony or a military colleague. When he was alone, he carried files in his hands which he read through, ignoring the environment around him.

 Sam Wilson welcomed you easily. While he kept you at arm’s length for the first few weeks, that soon gave way to flirtatious teasing. You knew he meant nothing by it, and you enjoyed the comments, no one had ever said such things to you. Though there was no attraction there, between either of you, you both enjoyed the flirtatious attention you afforded the other.

 He had taken to calling you Petal, or the shortened Pet, a cute nickname because you were as delicate as a flower and also because of your ability. You acted annoyed when he called you it but secretly, you adored it. It was cute, sweet, and it felt like it fit.

 Sam was also the one who you trained with often, though you tried to put him off it. You were trained to kill by Hydra, your skills on par with Natasha and Bucky – though he was much stronger than you. You could make Sam down in minutes, which a few members of the team enjoyed seeing, but you could beat him in seconds on the rare occasion you used your ability.

 Still, he insisted. “You need your practice, Pet, I’m not always going to be there to save you.”

 You beat him every time.

 Steve Rogers was the unofficial leader of the team. Unofficial, because he didn’t want anyone to think he was above them. However, he was the one who decided on and led missions. He was the one who kept the team in line, he was the one who kept an eye out for everyone.

 Since introducing you to the team, you hadn’t seen much of him; for various reasons. He worked often, going on missions more and when he wasn’t, he was busy preparing for the next mission. When he wasn’t doing that, he was working out with Bucky or just spending time with his best-friend.

 And therein was the reason you hardly saw the Captain.

 Bucky Barnes did not appear to be a fan of yours. Your presence seemed to make the man uncomfortable. When you entered the room, he would sit up straighter, would tense and watch you as you moved about. When you trained in the gym, his eyes would focus on you and you knew he was working out your style, to know how best to take you down. He only spoke to you when necessary and he was always short and to the point.

 He wasn’t outright rude, but his dislike of you was clear. The only time he had outright asked about something pertaining to you, it was when he was confused over Tony’s nickname for you. Tony had proceeded to introduce him to the Batman comics and with Poison Ivy’s character, you were sure you were put in a darker light.

 In his avoidance of you, Steve was also avoiding you by association.

 You didn’t see much of the other Avengers. Thor was often in Asgard but had graced the compound with his presence occasionally. He was always polite but often kept a close eye on you, especially when his brother, Loki, took a shine to you.

 Loki thought you were interesting for a mortal. He had never met a mortal who could control nature like you could, he called you ‘The Life Giver’ which you had strongly disagreed with. However, you found Loki fun to socialise with, he was interesting and mischievous, often liking to cause trouble which you couldn’t help but find amusing. He also had a love of knives which you shared an interest in and you had compared various weapons, discussing the pros and cons of each.

 Honestly, none of the Avengers approved of your blossoming friendship with the God of Mischief. Still, they let you be, though they kept close watch.

 You had only met Doctor Strange once but you found him fascinating. A sorcerer of great power, you were amazed by his abilities. Peter had told you how he had worked with Doctor Strange during the battle against Thanos, and that the magician could create portals. Thor had taken that moment to delight in telling you that Doctor Strange had made Loki fall through a portal for thirty minutes.

 Apart from that first meeting, you also hadn’t met any of the other members of the team again. King T’Challa and his sister, Princess Shuri had left almost immediately for their home. Scott Lang didn’t often visit the compound but whenever he did, you didn’t happen across him.

 “I can’t wait for winter” you huffed, dragging the bottle over your sweltering skin.

“Too hot for you, Pet?” Sam asked, taking a seat on the couch opposite you.

“Mm” you agreed. “I’m Russian, we like the cold. My sozdany dlya etogo [We’re made for it].”

“Kak pokazyvayet tvoye serdtse [As your heart shows]” Natasha jested, earning a chuckle from you.

 While the words at face value were funny, it was hiding a meaning behind them which you both chuckled at. Natasha was one of the best spies in the world, tied with Bucky. She was observant and smart, and it hadn’t taken her long to put two-and-two together.

 She knew you found The Winter Solider attractive. You couldn’t help it. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair and beautiful eyes. He was a stunning specimen of a man. He was clearly intelligent and undoubtedly observant, with a key attention to detail.

 Working with him on missions and seeing him the limited times around the compound had drawn your attention. There was something about him. He was all man. Your body hummed when he was near, and you were acutely aware of his presence.

 You didn’t bother to deny your attraction when Natasha had confronted you. There was no point. There was no lying to Natasha Romanoff. She didn’t judge you from you crush. She did, however, make veiled comments.

 “What does that mean?” Tony asked, looking between the two of you. “You know its very rude to speak in a language that others don’t speak.”

“Bucky can speak it, he counts as others” you shrugged, smirking at Tony. “Eto ne nasha vina, chto vash ‘geniy’ zakhodit tak daleko [It’s not our fault your ‘genius’ only goes so far].”

This earned a laugh from Natasha and Bucky, who was quietly leaning against a wall, Steve sitting in front of him. Tony’s eyes flickered between the three of you, “What? What did she say?”

“On vyuchit odin den’ [He’ll learn one day]” Natasha smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at the billionaire.

“What? Bucky,” he turned to the quiet assassin, arm extended and pointing at you and Natasha. “What are they saying? Are they talking about me? What did they say?”

 Bucky’s eyes went from Tony to you. His blue-grey eyes taking in your relaxed pose, leaning against Wanda as you held the cooling bottle against the base of your neck. You fought to keep your heartrate calm, his gaze sending tingles down your spine.

 “YA somnevayus’, chto on budet [I doubt he will]” he rumbled before throwing the tiniest smirk at Tony and turning to leave the room.

 It took a moment for you and Natasha to process his words but then you’re both laughing as Tony continues to question what you all were saying.

  August

 Your hands sat palm down, fingers spread as the glass tickled between them. Your hands ran against the grass and you sighed, smiling to yourself. You could feel the hum of the earth beneath your palms, the steady thrum of life which only you could feel.

 It was an intoxicating feeling. Since leaving Hydra, you had taken great pleasure with just being part of the life around you. With your abilities over nature, you could feel the power of the earth and you fed off it.

 In Hydra, they closely monitored your exposure to nature, not wanting to give you an opportunity to fight back and escape. You had never been able to explore the deep connection you had with the earth but since escape, it was something you indulged yourself in at every opportunity.

 The compound is surrounded by open fields which back off onto tidy forests. After obtaining permission from Tony, you had happily taken ownership over a small section of the property and turned it into your own, personal, sanctuary.

 You had started at the very beginning and created a small pond. It hadn’t been very hard to create the hole and line it with stone. You did take your time, lining the stones in a perfect formation with small ones framing the smaller ones. Tony had called in a water truck to fill it for you, which took an hour or two, but you hand enjoyed watching the pond fill.

 When it was full, dressed in a new bikini, you had climbed into the pond. The water wasn’t deep, going to just above your waist. Your fingers trailed over the surface of the water, leaving flowers floating. Beautiful lily pads with bright pink lotuses, purple water lilies and water hyacinth. Yellow water poppies floated behind you, lazily moving across the pond. You walked to the edge pond, your finger running over the sides and leaving broadleaf arrowhead behind.

 Flowers and weeds would soon bloom around the pond, and you hoped it would attract wildlife. It would be lovely to see frogs, dragonflies, and butterflies. You hoped that when your little spot of paradise was done, it would be teaming with life.

 You crouched on the grass on north-west side of the pond and touched your hand to the earth. You breathed out slowly, closing your eyes as you envisioned what you wanted. The ground beneath you hummed as your power soaked into the grass below you, spreading outwards. You could feel the ground welcome you and allow you to bend it to your will.

 You focus on the soil, creating the image in your mind of what you wanted. Long, strong roots buried deep in the ground, anchoring the large tree. From the ground, a large base would emerge with dark brown bark. It would stand tall, the thickness of the trunk showing strength and making it appear old. Branches would expend out, weighted down by long branchlets. You imagined them spanning wide, going so far as to dangle over the pond’s side.  

 You opened your eyes and stood up, smiling to yourself as you looked at the weeping willow in front of you. A hybrid of two different types of willow, it only had a life span of between forty to seventy-five years, but you knew you could make it live for a lot longer.

 The tree fit in perfectly with the pond, giving off an enchanted vibe. It looked like something out of a fairy-tale, as if magical creatures would be hiding within the weeping willows branchlets. You created a stone bench at the base of the trunk and framed it with blooming flowers of varying colour, adding to the magical appearance.

 You had made sure the rest of your area was full of natures favourites. There was plenty of nectar-rich flowers for bees and hummingbirds, with bright and bold colours to attract them. Marigolds, pansies and petunias sprouted, ready for the hungry tummies of rabbits you hoped to see in the future. You didn’t know whether the neighbouring trees housed deer but on the off chance, you made sure to grow hostas, daylilies and roses on the edge of the tree line.

 Not wanting to make such a harsh change, you had extended some flowers into the other fields, letting them slowly grow to have more and more as they went towards your plot. It was a beautiful sight, anyone would agree.

 Slowly, as the weeks went by, life began to bloom within your paradise. It started off small, a few butterflies and a stray dragonfly. Tiny frogs, that would hop away and hide if you got too close. Then you found the small warren and when you hid to spy on it, your heart warmed as the tiny rabbit’s nose which peaked out. It was incredible, to say the least.

 Since creating this little slice of heaven, Steve had visited with his sketchbook in hand. The image the sanctuary provided was beautiful and something he was eager to capture. He had given you one of his sketches, one that was coloured in with watercolours which blended together. You had hung it on your bedroom wall that day.

 Wanda had visited, smiling softly at the rose canina which scattered around the area. They were the flowers her brother used to pick for her, which were native to her homeland of Sokovia and the neighbouring country of Slovakia. Since then, you had made a small bush of the flowers outside her window and made sure it was always in bloom. She had said nothing but the smile she had was thanks enough.

 The most common guest to your sanctuary was the most surprising. Bucky. He would come to quietly sit on the stone bench, lost in his thoughts as he watched the breeze blow the branchlets of the weeping willow. He found peace in that spot, and he enjoyed the freeness of the area rather than the confines of the compound.

 One time, you had brushed through the branchlets of the tree to see him sitting motionless, watching a rabbit eat the marigolds on the floor beside him. You had frozen, worried about startling the little animal, but it ignored you, carrying on with its early afternoon snack.

 “You’re here almost as often as I am” you observed, carefully walking to the edge of the pond.

“Its nice” he grunted, looking around appreciatively. “The compound can be… crowded.”

“Yes” you agree. You look over your shoulder to see him tracing a rose with his finger, avoiding the prickly thorns. “What flowers do you like, Bucky?”

 Since that evening in July, Bucky had been more open towards you. Though he still kept his distance, he didn’t out-right avoid you. He no longer tensed when you entered the room, but his eyes remained on you, keeping a close watch. His observations of your fighting style had decreased and now he actually continued his work out, only throwing occasional glances at you.

 It was progress.

 “Sunflowers” he finally replied, having been sorting through his thoughts for the last few minutes.

 The next time he visited the sanctuary, sunflowers lined the entrance to the willow’s spot.

 Now, you sit with your palms on the grass with your fingers spread. You allowed yourself to just breathe in the fresh air and enough the hum of life beneath your palms. It was a wonderful feeling, making your heart fill with content as you allowed yourself to just feel.

 So entuned with the earth beneath you, you felt the approach of another instantly. You knew their footsteps would be considered light, soundless, but through the ground it felt heavy. There are five sets of footsteps approaching from in front of you, a direction that no one should be coming from. There about a mile out, far enough that your other senses wouldn’t have picked them up.

 There’s another set of footsteps behind you. These ones feel light even through the ground and you quickly recognise them. You don’t turn your head to him when he pushes through the branchlets and instead keep your eyes in front of you.

 “Na severe otsyuda yest’ proryv [There’s a perimeter breach, north of here]” his voice is low, and you know his eyes are scanning the area. He always speaks to you in Russian during missions when he doesn’t want locals or enemies to know what he’s saying. “Natal’ya i Toni idut szadi. Oni idut syuda [Natalia and Tony are coming in from behind them. They’re coming this way].”

“Pyat’ iz nikh. Meneye chem v odony mile [Five of them. Less than one mile out]” you inform him.

 You ignored Bucky as he quietly passed on your information to Natasha and Tony, and, instead, focused of the intruders approaching. They walked in formation, and you could feel the heaviness of the weight they carried. They weren’t hikers who had gotten lost, these were people looking for the compound and with the sneaking up, you could assume their intentions weren’t good.

 You take in a deep breath before pushing your ability outwards. In your minds eyes, plants begin to grow on the path before the intruders. Stinging nettles, hogweed, pain bush, and poison ivy. You line the forest floor which leads to your sanctuary with the plants. Though not plants that will kill, they are ones which will cause discomfort and, hopefully, impact the intruders.

 You ensure to line the way with overgrown roots, little pockets underneath where a person could catch their foot. It wouldn’t be enough to stop them, but it will slow them down.

 “YA mogu sdelat’ otverstiye, chtoby derzhat’ ikh. Oni dolzhny byt’ blizhe, khotya [I can make a hole to hold them. They need to be closer though],” you tell him, standing up and looking at him. “Mne nuzhno umet’ pravil’no yego razmer [I need to be able to size it correctly].”

 Bucky nods and reiterates to Natasha and Tony, telling them to follow the group but keep a distance. He pulls out a knife from his leg holster, flipping it in his hand and preparing. He trusted that you would be able to effectively take down the intruders, but he still liked to be prepared for anything. That was the solider, the assassin, in him.

 Soon enough, the intruders were close. You couldn’t see them through the trees but you could feel them through the earth. You knew Bucky could see them, he was a super solider with heightened senses.

 You quickly took note of where each member of the group was. One leading, dead centre. Two sets flank to the left and two to the right, in a triangle formation. The weight in their feet makes it easy to calculate their heights, the tallest being just over six foot.

 Their weight shifts slightly, they’re preparing themselves. Without waiting to see what they are readying themselves for, you open a pit below them. It was quick, instantaneous. The once solid ground simply opened up and swallowed them, leaving them in a pit eight feet deep.

 By the time they’re on their feet, the hole is surrounded. You and Bucky stand on one side, Natasha and Tony on the other. Bucky and Natasha have guns out, each pointed at the group while Tony brandishes his Iron Man blasters.

 Standing over them, you quickly allow vines to grow out of the sides of the hole. They grasp onto the intruders, wrapping around them and preventing them moving. They’ve unable to pick up their military-issued guns from the floor nor get the handguns or knives from their holsters.

 “I didn’t realise we were having a party” Tony sasses, his helmet retreating.

 You used the vines to lift each intruder out one at a time. Bucky and Natasha quickly relieved them of any weapons on their person and Natasha cuffed them with zip-ties that were in a compartment on her suit. If their grunts were anything to go by, she made sure the zip-ties were tight.

 When they were all above ground and cuffed, you quickly filled in the hole. You didn’t want any stray animals falling in it and getting hurt. With their weapons in a pile, you form a basket of branches around them to carry them.

 Tony leads the way through the sanctuary, mental hand on the shoulder of the leader of the group. Bucky follows behind with two more of the group, each of his hands griping one of their arms. Natasha escorts the final two and you are left to carry the numerous weapons.

 “Tony, watch the sunflowers!” you scold as he roughly shoulders past one.

“You can just make another one” he scoffs, pushing the leader forward when he tried to stall.

“No, Tony, they’re special!” you tell him, stopping beside the sunflower to make sure it was okay and undamaged. “This is our safe space; you can’t just walk around like a brute.”

“I’m not walking around like a brute” he defends, looking at you over his shoulder. “And it’s just a flower, Y/N.”

“’Just a flower’?!” your voice rises with outrage. “I’ll have you know-”

“Ostav’ eto, Y/N, on ne ponimayet [Leave it, Y/N, he doesn’t understand]” Bucky says.

 Though you were no longer ‘on a mission’, so to speak, he liked to speak in Russian to annoy Tony. After the instance last month and a few repeated scenarios, Tony had attempted to learn Russian but after a week, he soon gave up. Bucky, Natasha and you often spoke in the language to annoy the billionaire, with the former two taking great pleasure in making him uncomfortable.

 “No Bucky- [But Bucky-]” you protested, throwing a glare at the billionaire.

“YA znayu [I know]” he nods. “On yego povredil? [Did he damage it?]”

“Net [No]” you confirmed.

Bucky let out a grunt and nodded, throwing a look of displeasure at Tony.

 Though you hadn’t outright discussed it, Bucky knew that the sunflowers were specifically grown for him. They were a way of showing that Bucky was welcomed in the sanctuary, that it was a place that he could escape to, should he need to.

 It was something he was grateful for. While he wasn’t a man who was particularly enthused by nature, he could appreciate its calming and healing abilities. The willow tree bench often brought him comfort in times of stress, ever peaceful with disruptions only coming from the wind or small passing animals.

 Bucky had been truthful when he told you his favourite flower was a sunflower. He didn’t, however, tell you why. You didn’t pry, it wasn’t any of your business and you suspected it had something to do with life before the war. You knew he was truthful though, because you sometimes caught him gently stroking the petals of one of the flowers, a far-off look on his face.

 Once you had returned to the compound, you separated from the group. You took the weapons to Tony’s lab, knowing that he would want to examine them before they were put in the lock-up. You had only visited Tony’s lab twice. The first time was when he wanted to run tests on your abilities, which you had reluctantly agreed to. The second time was two weeks ago when you dropped off a vial which you had been sent on a solo mission to gain.

 Since Hydra, you weren’t a fan of labs or doctors’ offices. They made you extremely nervous and set you on edge. It made you feel like you were still in Hydra, that you were going to be strapped down and another serum would be pushed through your veins.

 It was a terrifying thought. You never wanted to return to that lab, to be tied down again. While you were grateful for your abilities, if you could go back, you would change so much. You would have stayed on the streets of Krasnoyarsk, would have taken your chances at survival there. Hydra had changed you, and you still weren’t sure whether there were truly any ways it had changed you for the better.

 Doctor Cho said it was completely normal, it was a form of PTSD, and as such, if you needed medical attention, she came to your room. While you still weren’t completely comfortable having a doctor around you, being in your own space made you more comfortable and allowed you to remain calm as you received medical treatment.

 With your drop off complete, you returned to the team’s living quarters.

 The kitchen was a beautiful mix of light grey and white, with marble countertops. Everything matched, from the white appliances to the grey cupboards. On the island was a vase of flowers, that you always kept in bloom, which offered the space the only pop of colour. The vibrant pinks, blues and yellows seemed to somehow brings the space together.

 The arched doorway led into the living room. Though Tony had paid for it all, you knew that Sam and Natasha were the ones who chose the furniture. The plush ‘L’ shape couch was a dark grey, with colourful pillows and a two thick throw blankets over the back. Two soft armchairs sat on the right, with the TV at the end completing the rectangle of furniture.

 There was once a fluffy rug under the coffee table, which sat in the middle of the put-together shape. However, Bucky wasn’t in the habit of removing his boots and had trailed dirt all over it. Wanda had gotten it clean, but it was a repeated offence until it was finally just thrown out.

 As you passed through the kitchen, you waved your hand over the vase, brightening the flowers. While they were still beautiful, it looked like they had been knocked slightly and bent out of shape. It wasn’t a surprise, while they respected your ability, the Avengers didn’t tend to take care towards your plants.

 Except Bucky.

 He was always mindful of your plants. While he often touched the plants in the sanctuary, never once had he left a single petal out of place. When the team was having ‘family’ meals, he would quickly pull the vase of flowers from the table before Sam could accidently knock them off while roughhousing with one of the other men. You’d heard him telling Natasha and Peter to be careful when they had nearly toppled the flowers over while throwing snacks to each other.

 It was only a small thing for him to do, but it still meant a lot to you. Bucky knew, perhaps better than anyone, what you could do with your abilities but still, he didn’t want to cause more damage than absolutely necessary to your plants.

 And while you weren’t close with the man, it would be a lie to say you didn’t have a soft spot for him. The way he respected your creations warmed your heart. He could barely be labelled as a friend. Still, it reaffirmed the crush that you had on him.

 You curled yourself into the corner of the couch, folding your legs under yourself. You grabbed the TV remote, knowing you had at least a few hours to waste until you would find out why the intruders were at the compound. You settled on Kitchen Nightmares, snuggling yourself further into the cushions.

 Natasha found you a few hours later, eyes slightly glazed over as you were lost in your thoughts. You didn’t blink as she turned of the TV, and you didn’t acknowledge her until she gently shook your shoulder.

 “Nat?” you blinked, looking around. “When did you get here, what’s going on?”

“Only a moment ago, you seemed pretty lost in your thoughts” she told you, taking a seat on the couch. “We got them talking, in the end. We know why they came here.” “And?” you asked, sitting up straighter and turning to face her.

She waited a moment, her eyes carefully taking in your expression. “They came for you and Barnes.”

“Hydra?” you sighed when she nodded in confirmation. “It’s been years and yet they still want us.”

“We thought we had got all of their agents… obviously we were wrong” she said, head tilting and eyebrow lifting slightly as she spoke.

“‘Cut off one head and two more shall take its place’” you quoted.

  October

 You had never celebrated Halloween before. You had been raised in an orphanage un by the Orthodox Church and Halloween was act of betrayal to God. After leaving the orphanage, you had been taken into Hydra, where you never celebrated anything. After escaping the clutches of Hydra, you had been on the run. There was no time to celebrate a Pagan holiday while running for your life.

 For the last week, Peter had not stopped talking about the upcoming holiday. You knew the young hero was excited, he practically bounced when it was mentioned. He got especially excited when Tony had announced he was throwing a Halloween party and that Peter could invite his friends.

 “What was Halloween like in Russia, Y/N?” Peter asked you.

“It’s not hugely popular, not enough to be a tradition, anyway. People do celebrate it though” you replied. “When Russia welcomed the West in the nineties, it became more well-known… it depends on where in Russia you are from. The Orthodox Church doesn’t approve of celebrating it at all, so if you’re from a religious area…” you shrugged, trailing off.

“Did you ever celebrate it?” he passed the carton of ice-cream over to you.

“No” you shook your head, accepting the scooper. “This will be my first time.”

“Oh, you’ll love it! It’s so much fun!” he assured.

 After you had agreed to attend Tony’s party in two weeks’ time, you had gone costume shopping with Natasha and Wanda. You hadn’t been planning on dressing up as anything really, you were happy to just put of your suit and go like that. However, neither of the girls were willing to let you do that.

 “So, what do you want to be?” Wanda asked, browsing the shelves at the local mall.

“I don’t know” you shrug, following after her. “What are you going to be?”

“Vis and I are doing couples-costumes this year” she blushes. “We’re going as Alice and The Mad Hatter.”

“I’m going as Pennywise; I have the hair for it” Natasha shrugs.

“What’s Pennywise?” you ask, looking between your two friends.

“You’ve never seen It?! You’ve seen Sleepless in Seattle, but you haven’t seen It?” Natasha huffed in disbelief.

“Tom Hanks is in Sleepless in Seattle… I like Tom Hanks” you defended weakly, giving an awkward smile and a small shrug.

“We’ll watch it later, it’s great” Wanda assured.

 You continued to search the store for a costume, but nothing caught your eye. As you were beginning to think that maybe you just wouldn’t find one, a gasp to your left caught your attention. You turned quickly, your arm raised and ready in case someone was being attacked.

 Instead, Wanda stood holding a costume, grinning and bouncing in her spot as she showed you. As soon at Natasha saw it, she was smirking at you too, firmly agreeing with her choice. As you hadn’t found anything you liked, though you had been in the store for two hours, you reluctantly agreed to their choice.

 Later that evening, you sat on the couch with the rest of the team as Wanda kneeled in front of the TV. She placed the DVD into the player and grabbed the remote, returning to her seat beside Vision. She had managed to gather the whole team into the front room to watch It, a horror film you had never seen before.

 Wanda had shown you DVD case earlier and you had to admit, you were already a little on edge. You were an Avenger, trained by Hydra, with abilities beyond normal. However, seeing a picture of the clown, Pennywise, made your stomach turn. Especially when there appeared to be children involved.

 “Oh, no…oh, no” you whisper quietly to yourself, watching the small paper boat drain.

 The child, Georgie, was wearing a yellow raincoat like the child on the front of the DVD case. It was reasonable to assume he would meet the clown. Now, you weren’t a particularly nervous person in normal circumstances, but you grew up surrounded by children and looking after younger children in the orphanage. The instinct to protect children was ingrained within you, so you know this film would put you on edge.

 You hardly notice as you start to tilt to the left, your hand lifting up to pull at their shirt. The pulling causes them to lean forward slightly, enough for you to tuck your head behind them with your eyes peaking over their shoulder. You quickly close your eyes, ducking your head to hide as Pennywise’s mouth opens and reveals its pointed teeth.

 You breathe in deeply through your nose and its then that you realise who you are hiding behind. His unique smell fills your senses, making your head go fuzzy for a moment. It was a wonderful mixture of mint and woods. It was the scent of the outdoors, dirt and wood and rain. There was another smell underneath, something you couldn’t identify that was just all him. It was intoxicating, making your eyes want to roll back.

 You slowly pull away from Bucky, moving back to sit properly. Your cheeks are ablaze, no doubt bright red with embarrassment. You had never touched Bucky before and the first time you had, you had hidden behind him because of a film.

 Though Bucky had allowed you to move him – he was more than strong enough to resist you – you knew he wasn’t comfortable with that contact. While he hadn’t been rigid, his body had been tensed against yours. You knew Bucky well enough to know that he didn’t have physical contact with many people. He hugged Steve every now and again, received and gave friendly pats of the back with Sam, and often physically trained with other agents. However, that was the extent of the physical contact.

 Guilt ate up at you. You liked Bucky, harboured a small crush on him, and making him uncomfortable was not something you had wanted to do. You hadn’t even realised that you were moving to hide behind him. Still, you thought, that wasn’t an excuse.

 “Sorry” you whispered, so low that only he would be able to hear you.

“‘s’fine” Bucky replied, eyes not leaving the screen.

 You sat stoically throughout the rest of the film, so lost in your embarrassment that you hardly jumped. You couldn’t believe you had done that, that you basically cuddled up to him.

 In honesty, you weren’t surprised you had leaned towards Bucky when you were scared. It had been a subconscious decision to seek comfort from him, rather than from Sam who was to your right. Something about Bucky just screamed ‘safe’.

 A soldier, Hydra trained assassin, and valuable member of the Avengers, Bucky was not a man to be trifled with. He was strong, brave, and powerful. In every sense of the words. However, while you knew of his brute strength, there was something about his quiet persona which also assured you. He was observant, thoughtful, smart and patient.

 Everything about him screamed ‘protective’. You knew it wasn’t just your mind telling you things either. Bucky had proved on multiple occasions that he had the teams back, including yours. He had thrown a Hydra agent away from Natasha when she had been caught up in a fight with two other and hadn’t seen him sneaking up behind her. He had covered Wanda when she was using her powers to contain a bomb. He had covered for Sam when a one-night-stand just didn’t’ get the hint.

 He watched out for all of the team, without expecting them to return the favour. Of course, the team looked out for him in return, he just didn’t just assume they would. They worked together well, treating each other like the family they were.

 The film ended and the room was plunged into darkness for a moment before F.R.I.D.A.Y switched on the lights. On the right of you, Sam was sprawled against the couch with his head tilted back and soft snores falling from his nose. Looking around, you noticed Tony was also fast asleep and Peter was yawning.

 “So, what did you think, Y/N?” Natasha asked, shifting in her chair to face you.

“I didn’t like the clown” you admitted, blushing as you bit your lip and shrugged.

“Really, you’re scared of clowns?” Peter questioned. “Why?”

“That film… erm, the…the…I don’t know it in English. Pokhititel’ detey [Child snatcher]” you replied.

“Child snatcher” Bucky and Natasha translated simultaneously, before Natasha continued, “’Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’.”

“Mm” you confirmed with a nod. “We were told he was a clown who took children… It scared us all. The nuns would always threaten us, tell us that he’ll come to get us.”

“But he doesn’t look like a clown” Peter protested, confused.

“No” you agreed, nodding. “But when you’re young and that comparison is made, it sticks.”

 When Halloween came, you were locked up in your room to get ready with Wanda and Natasha. The women had both been excited for that the party, and you had secluded yourselves to get ready four hours early.

 Wanda looked beautiful in her short blue dress, with a white apron and a pair of white tights. The front sections of her hair were pulled back from her face, held back by an invisible hair tie and a blue headband. Her hair was lightly curled, bouncing down her back beautifully. Her black heels sat by the bedroom door, ready for her to slip on when you all left for the party.

 Natasha, true to her word, was dressed as Pennywise. The female, sexier version, anyway. She wore a short, ruffled dirty white dress with red pompoms down the middle. White knee-high socks covered her legs with a pair of blood red pumps on her feet. Her red hair was in two pigtails, the ends waved. Her face was painted white, with two vertical lines cutting through her eyes, over her cheeks and connecting to her red lips.

 As uncomfortable as clowns made you, you couldn’t deny that Natasha looked great as the killer clown.

 You stood in front of the full-length mirror, pulling at the hair that fell over your shoulders. While you could admit that you looked good, you still didn’t know whether you were up for wearing it. You were showing more skin than usual, much more, and something inside you said that was wrong.

 “You look great” Natasha assured you. “You just need to add the vines.”

 Your eyes ran over your body again. You wore a tight green corset body bodysuit which pushed your breasts up and together. Wanda had help you put on the authentic looking pink-red wig which fell in long waves over your chest and down your back. The two women had insisted that you skip the green tights and just wore the green heels with your legs near bare.

 While you looked good, your outfit wasn’t yet a costume. Not a proper one, at least. You walked over to your windowsill, hovering your hand over the small pot of dirt that sat there. Slowly, two stems of vines poked out from the soil. You reached in, plucking them out and bending over to hold them against your ankles.

 A few moments later, long vines were wrapped around your ankles and extended up your ships and curled around the bottom of your thigh, just above the knee cap. Small pink, white and yellow flowers bloomed sparingly along the vines, adding pops of colour around green leaves.

 Picking one of the leaves and holding it to your chest, you closed your eyes and envisioned yourself. You imagined the more leaves sprouting from the one you held, imagined them growing and wrapping around your corset. The corset would be covered, left to look like it was created by leaves and not fabric.

 Plucking a flower from the vines on your leg, you held it to your hair and let it wrap around the stand, holding the hair back from your face. There, you thought as you looked in the mirror again, you looked much more like the character Tony nicknamed you after.

 “I feel like that’s cheating” Natasha joked, her head tilted, and lips pursed. Her eyes trailed over you, taking in the whole ensemble. “That lipstick does look good on you though; you should wear it more often. Now come on, we’re gonna be late and Wanda needs to meet Vision.”

 Natasha was right and you did enter the party late. Agents, scientists, doctors, social elites and at least one member of the press filled the open space. Tony had elected to throw the party at the compound, on one of the lower floors which had a huge open space.

 While the room was bright, shadows were thrown from the decorations. Fake spiders sat in cotton webs, hanging over banisters and on the edge of the bar. A cauldron bubbled, dry ice emitting white smoke over its rim. Knee-height plastic fencing lined a little path to a small booth where a photography waited to take pictures of guests.

 “Is that a coffin?” you asked, looking to the far side of the room.

“Any Halloween decoration that you can imagine is in this room” Pepper nodded, looking around. “You know what Tony’s like: ‘Go big or go home’.”

“Hence his attitude” Natasha whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Nat” you elbowed her, biting your tongue to hold back your laughter.

“Ivy!” the shouting of your nickname draws your attention to the eccentric millionaire who had just caught sight of you. “And you’re actually her!”

 Tony was thrilled by your outfit, and, in a rare display of affection from him, gave you a tight hug. Of course, he was immensely proud to say that he gave you the idea for the outfit. You smiled and shook your head, not bothering to argue with him.

 His hands traced the leaves curing around your hips, obvious amazement in his face. “How did you get them to do this? It’s amazing, they’re literally wrapped around you. Bruce, Bruce! Have you seen this, look!”

 You had been introduced to the quiet Bruce Banner earlier on that day. Natasha had convinced him to visit the compound and Tony had bribed him to stay with access to his own lab. While rather timid, he was more than comfortable to speak to you about science. While your brain wasn’t that of a scientist, your abilities were a scientific mystery.

 Something about the kind man made you comfortable to answer his questions. He wasn’t invasive like other curious people. Rather than wondering how you got your gifts, he was more curious about what you could do with them and how. Not because he wanted to use you, but because he wasn’t you to have a better understanding of them.

 What shocked you more was why he had this reasoning. You had heard about The Hulk, though you didn’t know much about him. While on the run, you had heard of the green giant with a strength beyond current measure. Finding out that Dr Banner was The Hulk was astounding.

 Rather than wanting to state his own curiosity, he wanted you to understand yourself. When he first became The Hulk, while he knew it happened because of his experimentation with gamma radiation, he didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t until years later and a lot of further research, that he got his answers and he was finally at peace with himself.

 Bruce wanted you to have that peace too.

 “Huh,” Bruce said, poking at the leaves. “I don’t think this is natural behaviour at all, but we’ll have to run some tests.” He picked at a leaf slightly, turning to Tony, “Do you think we could get a few different varieties of bushes and flowers to-”

“Okay, stop, leave the girl alone” Pepper shooed them both away. “This is a party, your party Tony, you can play scientist tomorrow. Now go.”

Smoothing down his lab coat, because of course he came as a scientist, Bruce smiled before taking his leave. “See you later.”

“I can’t believe you just came in a suit” you shook your head at Tony.

“I’m James Bond” he defended, pulling a ‘are you for real?’ face.

“Yes, well, James Bond needs to speak with Mr Mikaelson about fund raising gala next month” Pepper said, hooking her arm through Tony’s and pulling him away.

 The rest of the party goes well, with you receiving many compliments on your outfit. Just like Tony and Bruce, they all seemed amazed at the authenticity of the plants which wrapped around your body.

 A member of the press seemed to be infatuated with your costume, though it was in appreciation of the plants but rather of your body. His eyes had travelled your body, focusing on your thighs, and he fought to keep his mouth from dropping open.

 You had made an attempt to avoid the man and his camera. Your evening was made exceptionally better when you heard his yell from across the room. He had put his camera on the table while he went to grab a drink and when he returned, his camera was broken. You had caught a glimpse of it, and it appeared to have been crushed. You couldn’t say you felt any sympathy for the man.

 It was towards the end of the evening that you ran into the trio you jokingly referred to as ‘The Three Musketeers’. The three of them stood near the bar, each with drinks in their hand as they cast watchful glances around the room.

 Sam had obviously gone for the humorous look. Dressed in a cheap Captain America costume, with the obvious cushioned muscles, he was clearly poking fun at his friend. In his hand was a plastic version of the real shield, part of it bent which was probably from Steve trying to grab it off him earlier in the evening.

 He was the first to see you walking over to them, reaching out and pulling you closer. He gave you a gentle squeeze in greeting before letting you go and waving for the bartender.

 “Y/N” Steve nodded in greeting.

“Hey, Cap” you smiled. “Love the outfit.”

 Steve was dressed as Indiana Jones, having watched the film a few month ago and becoming a huge fan of Harrison Ford. The brown leather jacket was tight across his back and he had the whip wrapped up and attached to his hip. The famous hat sat on the bar beside him, resting next to a glass of what appeared to be whiskey.

 You had to admit, Steve pulled off the character rather well.

 Bucky made up the last member of the little team. His outfit was rather unsurprising. Rather than a traditional outfit, he wore his mission suit. A tight black leather top with matching black trousers, combat boots on his feet. He looked like he did on any other day.

 When you tilted your head to the side and went to open your mouth to comment, he quickly held up his right hand. You quickly grinned when you spotted the mask, your eyes lighting up in amusement.

 “Oh, Bucky, we match!” you grin. “Now we just need to find our Robin, Harley Quinn and The Joker.”

“Hm” he rolls his eyes, letting the Batman mask fall to his side.

“Don’t worry, I won’t try and poison you tonight” you teased with a wink.

Sam snorts into his drink, turning away to hide his smile.

“What made you go with… this?” Bucky asks and your insides burn as his eyes travel over you.

“Wanda suggested it after I couldn’t find anything I liked” you shrugged. “It’s amused Tony and he made me take a few pictures with him. The nickname is definitely staying now.”

 It was true, Tony had found you after slipping past Pepper and had pulled you along to the photobooth. He’d taken great pleasure in telling the photographer that he had nicknamed you ‘Ivy’ and had, essentially, given you the idea for the costume.

 “I still think ‘Petal’ is better” Sam argued.

“I’m sure you do” you acknowledged with a nod. “You never call me by my name anymore.” “What is your name?” he joked; his face mock serious. When you made a playful threatening move towards him, he quickly wagged his finger at you. “Careful Pet, you can’t take me all by yourself.”

“I know for a fact that Bucky has a least one knife-” you begin.

“Three” Bucky interrupts to confirm.

“Three knives” you correct with a small nod in thanks. “hidden on him and would sooner back me up than you.”

“Three knives?! Bucky!” Steve chides, giving his best-friend a disapproving look before turning to you. “How did you know he had them on him?”

“The same way that he knows I’ve got a knife hidden in my corset” you shrug. “It’s what we were taught.”

 There’s no response to that as Steve and Sam are reminded of your time within Hydra. Though you weren’t often comfortable talking about the scientific experience of Hydra, you were not ashamed to admit you had been trained by the organisation itself. You had been tricked, and later forced, into it and it was in the past. You couldn’t hold it over yourself anymore or you’d never be able to move on.

 You had accepted your past and, now, it was time to more forward with your life.

 “And one in your left shoe” Bucky nodded at the heel.

“All right, pipe down” you rolled your eyes.

 Since the night the team had watched It, your interactions with Bucky had steadily increased. Though you could hardly be called best friends, the former assassin now spoke to you. The conversations were neither long nor often but still, everyone made your insides warm from his attention.

 The friendly conversation and teasing callouts were something you wasn’t expecting to develop but you couldn’t deny that you your enjoyed them. From the small remarks he made, you knew that behind his quiet brooding, there was a man with a sparkling personality.

Hydra had just buried it deep within him.

 Every day with the team seemed to slowly chip away at the walls he had been forced to build. His morning runs with Steve and Sam, his time spent with Steve regaining his memories of the forties. His playful fights with Sam, verbal and sometimes physical in the gym. Natasha goading him into a fight to see who the best assassin was while Wanda quietly encouraged him to join in with team activities.

 However, it was Tony who helped in the biggest way. It had taken time, but he had accepted that it was The Winter Solider who had taken his parents. He no longer blamed Bucky, which greatly eased the man’s guilt. He still felt horrible for what he did under Hydra’s influence, but he was slowly learning to forgive himself.

 “You two are unbelievable” Steve shook his head with a small smile.

“Thank you” you grin, playfully bumping your arm into Bucky’s.

“We’re here all weekend” he finished, flashing Steve his own smile.

“Where’d you learn that?” you asked, eyebrow raised at the super solider.

He pursed his lips, shrugging. “The Tonight Show.”

“Don’t tell Tony” Sam advises, glancing around for the billionaire. “It would only set him off and he won’t stop talking about how he’s been on there.”

 You spent another ten minutes with the boys before you left them to find Natasha. The rest of the evening passed fairly quickly, and it wasn’t long until you found yourself tucked up in bed. Your head aching from the wig and your mind overworked from socialisation, you soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

 You woke up the next morning from a message from Natasha with a link which you soon clicked on. It led you to an article, posted very early that morning, of Tony’s party. Your eyes barely skimmed the article but near the end, you understand why she had sent it to you.

 There, clear for you to see, is a picture of you and Bucky. Your slightly leant against him, with you head barely titled towards him. Your both looking at something off to the side, both of you grinning happily. It takes you a moment to place it but then you realise, its from that moment with Steve.

 You both look happy, carefree. It’s the first time you’ve seen Bucky fully smile, his eyes seeming to sparkle as he looked at his best friend. Though you know he wasn’t entirely comfortable in a room full of strangers, he looks content to be within that group, your group.

 You smile and save the picture, dropping your phone on the bed and getting up for a shower.

  November

 “I can’t drink that; my aunt will kill me!” Peter hissed, pushing the flute away and quickly looking around to ensure no one was watching you both.

“Its fine, Pete, it’s just one glass” you assured him. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I’m pretty sure the drinking age is twenty-one, Peter” Bucky said, stepping up beside you, arms crossed, and an eyebrow raised.

“I wasn’t going to drink it, Sergeant Barnes, honest” Peter denied, stepping back and waving his hands to show they were empty.

You rolled your eyes, nudging Bucky. “Leave the kid alone. He’s almost eighteen, and I know you drank way before you came of age.” You turned back to Peter. “I promise, Pete, your aunt won’t kill you for one glass. If you don’t want it, that’s fine, but don’t reject it just because your scared of getting in trouble.”

 You knew Peter wouldn’t get in trouble for drinking the one small flute of champagne. Before offering it to him, you had asked Aunt May if he would be allowed to try it. If he tried it in your company, where you could keep an eye on him, he wouldn’t sneak off to try it later and get himself in trouble.

 Tony’s charity gala was going incredibly well. Celebrities, socialites, the press and even a few ‘ordinary’ people. You could even spot two Gods walking around. The gala was being held in a large hall in the middle of Manhattan. Round tables with matt gold table clothes lined a hard wood dance floor in front of a large stage. Crystal chandeliers cast light around the room, with help from a single candle on each table.

 “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble?” Peter asked, eyes wide as he blinked up at you.

“I promise” you assured him.

He took the glass from your hand and starred at it unsurely. He took a deep breath as if to prepare himself before bringing the glass to his lips, taking a sip. His nose scrunched up, head shaking as he pushed it back into your hands. “Ugh, no, that’s nasty.”

You and Bucky laughed at his reaction, and you dropped the near full glass on the empty table behind you. “It’s champagne. People rave about it but it’s not really that good.”

“If it doesn’t taste good, then why do people drink it?” he asks innocently.

Bucky snorts, shaking his head. “They don’t drink it for the taste, kid.”

“Some people do” you correct him. “Some people like it, like Tony, Pepper and Natasha.”

 You were solidly in the ‘I don’t like champagne’ team. Tony had insisted on opening a bottle after your first mission, to celebrate you joining the team, and that had been the first time you had tried the bubbly drink. Your nose had scrunched up at the taste and it led to teasing for hours about your lack of taste in alcohol.

 “I think I’ll just stick with this” Peter said, tilting his glass of Sprite towards you. Something catches his eye over your shoulder and he grins. “MJ’s here!”

“Go get her, tiger” you tease, nudging him in her direction.

“I’ll see you later” he blushes, hurrying in the direction of his girlfriend.

 Your heart warms as you watch them greet each other. Their hands link, squeezing gently, neither of them ones for public displays of affection. They were truly adorable, probably the cutest couple you had come across. MJ was a sweet girl, a dry sense of humour and a sassy personality. She complimented Peter’s soft nature perfectly.

 You were glad she had accepted Peter’s invitation, though you knew she wasn’t a fan of large fancy parties. Everyone was told that they needed a date for the gala, and Peter had worried that MJ wouldn’t accompany him, and Tony would be disappointed that he was failed to acquire a date. You had reassured him, of course, but that worry was still there.

 “I adore them” you sigh happily, watching as they huddle at a corner table to hide and talk, rather than socialise.

“Trust me, everyone knows” Bucky nods. When you turn to his with a raised eyebrow, he continues, “You provide the kid with a bouquet every time you see him, just so he can give them to MJ.”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink. “She likes the white and blue hydrangeas.”

It was quiet for a moment before Bucky spoke again, “You know the last time she came to the compound, he took her to the sanctuary?” “I’m not surprised, everyone visits at some point” you grin for a moment before turning a little more serious. “I found Richard from HR there the other week. He was picking at some of the daisies… which mysteriously suddenly grew sharp thorns. He’s been permanently banned, and I asked Pepper to send a compound-wide email with instructions of not to touch our flowers.”

 From the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky give a small smile at your use of the word ‘our’. You quickly lifted your glass for another sip of your drink, attempting to hide the blush colouring your cheeks.

 You had been truthful in your words. In your mind, the flowers belonged to both of you. While people visited the sanctuary at their leisure, it had an ‘owner’, so to speak. However, you couldn’t help but feel like the sanctuary belonged to you and Bucky.

 Even though winter had come, you could still find Bucky in the sanctuary at various times throughout the day. He’d be wrapped up in his leather jacket, with a scarf and a pair of gloves on. Sometimes he’d have a thermos between his knees, a book in one hand and a cup of still-steaming coffee in another.

 With the amount of time you both spent in the sanctuary, you had gotten comfortable in each other’s company. You would share the bench and read together. Bucky would bring an extra thermos for you and you would pastila, cherry pirozhki, and plyushka. You sit with your coffees and snacks and enjoy the silence and comfort of the sanctuary.

 Slowly, you began to talk more and more. While before the conversations had been short, they slowly grew longer and more personal. His trust in you grew. You had been with the team for six months, and it had taken time, but he grew to trust you. you had his back during missions, you supported him silently through training with small nods in his direction, you helped his healing by growing sunflowers for him.

 It was during one of your evenings on the bench that he told you about his favouritism of sunflowers. Most of the plants in New York, at the time, were rather drab. Weeds grew from the sidewalk, some a spikey green and sometimes a sickly dandelion. He’d seen bouquets in stories, once someone had even brought one for his sister, but the variety was selected and with the fumes of nineteen-forties New York, they were often on the verge of weltering.

 However, when he had left the city of New York and went for his training with the army, he had seen them for the first time. Stuck in a bus of sweaty men, Bucky had gazed out the window and saw sunflowers for the first time. He’d tried sunflower seeds before, though they weren’t a huge staple in his area. However, he had never seen the flower itself.

 Bucky’s memory of the forties wasn’t the clearest, but this was a memory which he could envision easily. Dozens upon dozens of sunflowers lined the field. They stood tall, the large heads of the flowers pointed to the sun and soaking up its goodness. Unlike flowers in the city, these flowers were vibrant in colour. Bucky was sure he had never seen a flower so beautifully yellow.

 Through the horror of preparing for war, the flowers still stood bright and strong. It installed a sense of hope within him. If those sunflowers could be so full of life during war-time, there had to be hope out there. So, when Bucky shipped off for war, that was one of the things he would hope for. He’d think about returning to his mom, his sisters, Steve, and he would return to see those sunflowers again.

 It wasn’t just Bucky who had opened up. You told him about your childhood in the orphanage, of the children you used to help care for because the Nuns were always too busy. Though they could be kind, they weren’t exactly nurturing individuals. In a way, you couldn’t blame them. They had joined the church to serve God, and while some did choose to attend to the orphanage, a lot of them were assigned there by those of higher authority.

 You told him of little Nina. A beautiful little girl who was half your age. Just as her name said, she was a dreamer. She dreamt of leaving the orphanage, of going to far away lands such as England or France. She loved the sound of France, with the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre museum. While you did your chores and looked after the toddlers of the orphanage, she would tell you of her dreams to travel and explore. She’d been adopted two years before you left the orphanage, by a family in Austria.

 You had also found the courage to tell him about your time in the labs of Hydra. He was the first person you had openly spoke to about it, and he was patient and listened to you. it felt like it had taken you hours to tell him everything, the fear and hatred of the labs making you take breaks to gather your strength. He stayed quiet, a solid rock of support by your side as you finally told someone about what Hydra put you through.

 After opening up about your time with them, he told you about his. Hearing that someone else had been subjected to similar treatment… it brought you a sense of comfort because finally, someone may understand.

 Your interactions with Bucky weren’t limited to the sanctuary either. You sat together during movie nights and bowls of popcorn. He would spar with you in training, telling you to not use your abilities.

 “You never know, you could find yourself without them” he had said.

 You would leave out a plate of freshly made plyushka for him, with a small sunflower as an identifier of who the treats were for.

 When it came to the gala, it seemed natural for you to attend with Bucky. Just like Peter had been required to have a date, so had the members of the Avengers. Steve and Natasha, Wanda and Vision, Tony and Pepper, Sam and his current girlfriend Marianne. Bucky was your friend, someone you enjoyed spending time with.

 Going to the gala together saved you both. Wanda had wanted you to go with Richard from HR, the one who violated your sanctuary, and Sam tried to set Bucky up with Sophie from the third floor. Neither you nor Bucky were interested in the suggested individuals, so going together seemed like a pretty smart idea.

 However, you had not been prepared to see him in his suit. You knew Bucky was attractive, you had checked him out multiple times and had been teased by Natasha about your crush on him. Seeing him in a form-fitting suit, with his hair pulled back in a half-bun… it made your knees weak. You already knew that dark colours suited him, so of course he looked great in the black suit, but you’d also discovered that the pink champagne colour of his tie suited him nicely.

 Bucky’s tie perfectly matched the colour of your dress. Your dress was a beautiful pink champagne colour which complimented your skin beautifully. Spaghetti straps laid delicately over your shoulders, leading to golden vines and leaves which covered your breasts. There was a small gap of fabric between your breasts and waist, leaving smooth skin visible beneath the vines and leaves. The vines extended to the beginning of the floor-length champagne pink tulle skirt, which hugged your waist but then flowed freely to the floor.  

It had taken a long time to find the perfect dress. You had spent the day shopping with Wanda, Natasha and Pepper to find the perfect dress but all the ones you came across just weren’t…. you.

 You had tried on a tight maroon red dress, with a plunging neckline and a slit up the left leg. Natasha had been quick to praise you in it, her eyes wide and her lips stretched in a grin. The next dress you tried on was a strapless forest green, with slight ruffles on the skirt. Wanda had loved it, saying it ‘fits you perfectly’ but you didn’t think it was the one. Pepper had favoured a lilac dress with small flowers which climbed from the hem of the skirt. It was a wonderful dress, probably your favourite out of the three, but still… it didn’t feel right.

 You’d found your dress at the back of the store, hidden behind the colourful gowns that people usually went for. While still elegant, it was slightly more subtle than the other dresses in the store. As soon as you saw it, you knew you had to try it on. It was while you were putting it on that you came across the realisation.

 There was some form of floral design on every one of your outfits.

 The black jeans you had worn that day had small sunflowers stitched into the waist band and along the ankles. Most of your tops had pastel flowers pained on them, or bronze leaves. You had even specially ordered a pair of Converses with sunflowers, orange roses and orange and red bicolour germini.

 You don’t know how you didn’t realise your fashion choice sooner.

 When you had tried the dress on, you had known it was perfect straightway. Even without your hair and make-up done, you felt, as they say, like a million dollars. As soon as you had stepped out of the changing room, the girls had praising you and telling you ‘its like it was made for you’.

 When you had met Bucky at the compound, ready for the drive to the gala venue, he’d quickly complimented you. You noticed how his eyes trailed over your appearance appreciatively, with his mouth slightly dropped open for a moment before he quickly caught himself. Offering you his arm, he had given you and small smile and told you looked beautiful.

 You had thought for sure that you were going to die from the heat filling your cheeks. Your throat had seemed to close up and her heartbeat erratically in your chest from his compliment. You had been hyper aware of his presence by your side, his usual calm and quiet self except when he whispered quietly in your ear about a stuck-up attendee.

 “Mrs Archard thinks Pepper’s choice of band is appalling” Bucky whispers, pointing discreetly to the seventy-year-old woman who stood beside her husband, sipping on her gin and tonic.

“She thinks this is bad?” you head tilted in the band’s direction with a roll of your eyes. “This is classic music, no doubt from her generation.”

“Shh!” he quickly hushed you, turning you both when Mrs Archard looked in your direction. “Oh, hey, look.” He pointed over to the bar, your eyes widening when your eyes land on the person he’s pointing out. “Its that the guy who played Sally? In the plane film?”

“Sully!” you correct him, going on you tip toes to get a better view. “And the film was based on a real event, Bucky, you know that. It’s Tom Hanks, the Tom Hanks, and he’s here!”

“Let’s go meet him” Bucky shrugs, beginning to pull you in the direction of your idol.

You quickly pull on his arms, bringing him to a stop. “No! No way! I can’t meet him, that’s crazy.”

“Y/N, doll, he’s just a man” he said, and you can see the corner of his lips tilt up in amusement.

“No, Bucky, he’s not!” you insist. “He’s Tom Hanks! I can’t meet him, no way.”

When Bucky tried to tug you over to the bar again, you quickly duck away from him and dart to the other side of the room. Since coming to America, and joining the Avengers, your exposure to film and TV had increased. From the countless movie nights with the team, you had discovered your love for Tom Hanks.

 The actor was incredible, and he made you feel content while you were watching him. You had watched all over his work, multiple times, and you respected him immensely. He was your favourite actor, and an idol you looked up to.

 You were, however, much to shy to go and introduce yourself. You were a member of the Avengers, a highly skilled, Hydra changed agent but meeting your favourite actor? You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t know why the thought of meeting him shook you to the core, maybe because, in your mind, he was so pure and so good, far away from the dangers of your life, that you didn’t want to taint that by introduction yourself.

 Bucky, however, clearly didn’t think you should miss out on the opportunity to meet your idol. When you heard him say your name ten minutes later, you turned to find him standing there with the man himself.

 “Tom, this is-” Bucky began to introduce you with a small smirk.

“Y/N, yes” Mr Hanks interrupted with a nod. “I’m a huge fan, I’ve seen you in action on the news. Absolutely incredible.”

“Oh, erm, wow, erm, that, I-I, wow” you stammered, completely star struck.

“Y/N’s a huge fan of your work, Tom” Bucky informed him.

“Oh, so we have a mutual appreciation of each other” he chucked, gently patting your arm.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Mr Hanks” you finally found your words, your cheeks heating up.

“I could say the same” he assured you with a smile. “Bucky was just talking about you and I just had to get him to introduce us. As I said, I saw the work you’ve done on the news. Your saving of those children in Cambodia… Its honestly inspiring.”

 Your heart was in your throat for the next ten minutes while you spoke with your idol, who actually said that you were his. To know someone you looked up to regarded you with so much respect, it made you appreciate the man even more.

 When a gala photographer asked to take your picture with Bucky and Tom, who had insisted you call him that, you couldn’t stop smiling. And the next day, when Bucky gave you a copy of the framed photograph, it was if the smile would never leave your face.

  December

 Your birthday passed in a blur of happiness and excitement. The day seemed so long, and yet so short. You’d entered the kitchen to a wonderful breakfast, where you, of course, sat between to of your friends and avoided the corners, as per tradition.

 Natasha gently took hold of your ear, tugging it and saying the traditional; “Rasti - ne bud’ laphoy [Grow up – don’t be noodles.]”

 The presents were wonderful. Natasha had brought you a new pair of black heels with, of course, a floral pattern. Wanda and Vision got you a beautiful jumpsuit to match which you couldn’t wait to try on. Steve and Sam had teamed up to buy you a beautiful charm bracelet with a beautiful Avenger’s charm and a charm of St. Basil’s Cathedral. Tony and Pepper got you a complete copy of the collection edition of all of Tom Hank’s work. Bucky had brought you a beautiful silver sunflower charm for your bracelet and, later, gave you a small collection of sharp throwing knives.

 You loved all your gifts, but the throwing knives made you tingle. You had spoken to Bucky weeks ago about them, telling him that you had seen a beautiful collection in a store over the other side of town. And from your limited description of them, he had found them and got them you.

 You couldn’t stop yourself when he gave them to you and had automatically thrown your arms around his shoulders. He had frozen at your abrupt action, seeming shocked. As you moved to pull away, his arms came around your waist. His metal arm was a heavy weight against your back but also incredibly light and gentle as he didn’t want to harm you.

 His manly scent of mint, the outdoors and just pure Bucky filled your nose and made your eyes clench shut. He smelled amazing, it was like your nose was clear for the first time and your first breathe was full of him. It awoke your senses and made you tingle as he took over your mind.

 You could have sworn there was a light pink tint to his cheeks when you pulled away, but you couldn’t be sure.

 It was an incredibly thoughtful gift and you had been quick to cover the blades in toxins which would render a person unconscious. Throughout your training, you had always favoured small blades which include the small throwing knives. They seemed to work best with your abilities.

 Throughout December, you noticed a subtle change in Bucky. Though he tried to seem casual about it, it was obviously to you. You were completely in-tune with everything he did, and when it involved you, you were even more hyper aware.

 Bucky touched you more.

 On movie nights, he would always make sure to sit next to you. Slowly, throughout the film, he’d relax more and more and then, by about half-way through, his arm would be pressed against yours. Sometimes his knee would bump against yours too. When passing by you, he would press his hand gently against the small of your back, his fingers trailing the skin. Rather than asking you to move when he wanted to get to a cupboard above you in the kitchen, his chest nearly pressed flush against your back as he leant to retrieve what he wanted.

 Once, he had even offered you his arm when you were both making your way to the sanctuary together.

 If it was anyone else who did these things, you would think nothing of it. However, it’s Bucky. Bucky had never been touchy-feely with you. Before, he would touch you only when necessary but that had obviously changed. It wasn’t a change which translated to the rest of the team either. He still avoided physical contact with them when he could, bar Steve.

 You didn’t want to let yourself read too much into the implications of his actions. You didn’t want to wonder if he was doing it because he was perhaps interested in you, because that would lead you down a dangerous path. If you allowed yourself to believe that he did, and then it turns out you’re wrong… No, you would just ignore it.

 Your first Christmas with the Avengers didn’t go to plan.

 You noticed the new presence in your room straight away. As soon as the doorknob had turned, you were roused from your sleep and your hand had stealth moved to the knife under your pillow. When the hand touched your shoulder, you quickly rolled over, bring the knife up and towards the persons throat.

 Your wrist was caught in a strong grip and was twisted to the side. It wasn’t enough to make you drop the knife, but it stopped it from hitting the persons throat. You sighed at the person standing in front of you, releasing the tension in your arm as a sign of you posing no more of a threat.

 “If you wanted to get into bed with me, you just had to ask” you teased, pushing yourself to a sitting position.

“Maybe I’ll join you later” Natasha replied. “Get up and suited. There’s been an explosion in Kecskemét.”

“Hungary. What happened?” you asked, getting out of bed and moving to grab your suit from the wardrobe.

“We’re being briefed on the jet” she left the room, most likely to wake the others up.

 You changed quickly, pulling on the tight, dark green body suit. You strapped your gun holster to your left thigh, securing the weapon and then attaching additional ammo to your utility belt. You tightly strapped your throwing knives to your right thigh where you’d be able to grab them quickly. A combat knife was strapped against your right ankle, and you put the comms device in your right ear before leaving for the jet.

 On the twenty-fourth of December, at nine-twenty-eight in the morning, local time, an explosion went off in the town centre of Kecskemét. Fifteen people were killed in the explosion with a further two-hundred and seven injured.

 From there, it was reported that three different groups were making their way throughout the city armed with heavy weaponry. They were executing people indiscriminately. Men, women, children… babies.

 The Avenger’s had been called as soon as the explosion had occurred, with the team on the jet and departing the compound with thirty minutes. The Hungarian army had been deployed to the city, but it was soon clear that they were not equipped to the weaponry that was being used against them.

 On a large screen on the quinjet, Tony played a video from the streets of Kecskemét. While the camera was shaky, the image was clear to make out. Bodies littered the floor; buildings were crumbled, and dust settled over the streets. A group of men stood at the end of the road, one pointing off to the side as he spoke, gesturing around himself.

 Tony froze the footage, zooming in on the weapon in the terrorist’s hands. It was large and bulky, made with thick metal and emitting a glowing blue-purple light. You leaned forward slightly, your eyes narrowing as you took in the sight. You had never seen such a weapon before. Being part of Hydra, you recognised nearly every weapon known to man, and knew how to wield most of them. However, you couldn’t recognise this one.

 “That’s modified Chitauri weaponry” Natasha observed. “How did they get that, I thought we got it all?”

“well, obviously we didn’t” Tony rolled his eyes, shutting off the record.

“I’ve never heard of Chitauri weaponry before” you said, looking between the two of them. “And something with this much power… Hydra would have trained us with it. Where is it from?”

“A few years ago, twenty-twelve, Loki tried to invade Earth” Steve began to explain. You nodded in understanding, remembering the team mentioning it happening but you had never known the names of the aliens which stood with the God of Mischief. “A section of New York was destroyed due to the Chitauri army which aided Loki. We thought we had collected it all but then there was underground trading of the weapons in Queens. Peter stopped that. Obviously, the trading of the weapons expanded world-wide.”

“That was Loki-Loki by the way” Tony injected, raising an eyebrow at you. Out of the whole team, he was the one who objected against your… ‘friendship’ the most with the man. “You know, your little bestie.”

“I never said he was a good man” you defended. “However, he treats me well and I shall treat him with the same respect.”

“Yeah, really?” he asked, both eyebrows raised now, and his arms crossed over his chest. “And when tries to make a move on Earth again?”

“Firstly, we don’t know if he would do that” you argued. “He may be a bad person, but he’s not stupid. Secondly, I would gladly help to stop him. He may be a friend but that doesn’t get him special treatment.”

 The quinjet cut the ten-hour journey to just over four hours, and it wasn’t long until you were landing just outside of Kecskemét. You were quickly split into three teams consisting of Wanda, Natasha and Clint, then Vision, Sam and Tony, and finally you with Steve and Bucky. After a round of ‘Good luck’ nods, everyone left to their assigned area.

 “Y/N, I want you watching out for any civilians. You see any, you get them out. Watch the buildings, make sure none of them come down on us” Steve ordered as your group headed for your designated zone. “Bucky and I’ll take down the assailants.”

“Ah, so you’ve got the easy job” you joke, pushing a stray strand of hair back. “It okay, I get, you’re getting old.”

“Pft,” Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m still in my prime, its that punk that’s on his way out. Dinosaur.”

“You’re still older than me” Steve argued.

“Don’t worry boys, I’ll visit you both in your care homes when we get back” you assured them.

 It didn’t take you long to reach the infiltrated area. Burning cars lined the streets, shops broken into with glass littering the street. A handful of people lay on the sidewalk, all on their tummy and went you bent to check for a pulse, there was nothing.

 You were about to turn a corner when you quickly reached out, grabbing the two super soldiers by their arms and pulling them back. You could feel it through the ground. The vibrations hummed into the floor, travelling to you. You could feel the movement of people walking on the ground, sending you clear information of what was around the corner.

 “Seven assailants. Two, far west. Three, east. One, front north. Two, south west” You reported, reading the vibrations of their footsteps. “Nine civilians in the building three ahead of them, east side.”

“Circle round the side, go in from the back” Steve told you.

“Got it” you nodded, turning to go back the way you came.

 As you pass him, Bucky grasps hold of your hand. He holds your hand for a fraction of a second, his eyes meeting yours. There worry in stormy eyes, but he quickly hides it as he gives you a nod, gently squeezing your hand before letting you go. You give him a small before continuing on with your task.

 You run up the road directly besides the one with the assailants. It takes you less than a minute to reach the house which sits behind the building containing the civilians. Bringing your knee up and to your chest, you aim your kick to land directly besides the lock. Within two kicks, the door is down and you’re rushing inside.

 You run to the top of the building, on the far-left side. The room you enter into is small, which boxes piled three-high. The boxes are full, nearly bringing with metal pots, ornaments and clothes. Taking care to move the items to restrict damage to them was not an option, you had to get the civilian out quickly.

 The wooden floor of the room split in half, bowing downwards, and allowing the boxes to fall into the room below. The floor fixed itself within moments, the crack sealing over and leaving no trace of having been there. The wall separating you from the other building began to break. Bricks crumbled outwards, plaster falling with a swoosh of dust as a hole began to form.

 People who had previously been cowering against the wall quickly move away, frightened gasps leaving them as they watched the wall crumble. The terrified voices of a woman filled your ears and you hurried to assure them in their native language.

 “Ne fuss, itt vagyok, hogy seítsek. Az utcán vannak olyan férfiak, akik ártani akarnak neked [Don’t run, I’m here to help. There are men on the streets below who wish to harm you]” You speak, holding your hands up to show you meant no harm. “Kérem. Ki tudok hozni innen. Gyere velem. [Please. I can get you out of here. Come with me.]”

“Hemlock” one of the children say, recognising you. He tugged on his mother’s sleeve, pointing at you again and repeating your code name, the name civilians knew you by.

“Avenger” the woman realises, recognising you after her sons prompting. She turns to hurriedly inform the rest of the party, telling them you were part of the ‘superhero’ group and had come to save them.

 It was still strange to hear someone refer to you as a hero. You had never considered yourself to be heroic, actually, you had often thought yourself to be the opposite. You were a product of experimentation by a terrorist group, who made you into a weapon. You had the power to crumble things to the ground, you could wipe out a city with a single thought.

 Of course, you wouldn’t do that, but you still had the ability to do it.

 In the months that you had been part of the Avengers, you had saved over a dozen lives. Still, you didn’t believe that saving someone made you heroic. Well, that was a hypocritical statement. You considered Steve a hero, Bucky a hero, Natasha, Peter and Wanda too. Tony, Sam, Clint and Vision, they were all heroes. For some reason, that just didn’t translate over to you.

 You waved the civilians through the wall before quickly repairing it. You instruct them to remain quiet before quickly leading them to the street below. Before opening the front door, you pause and take note of the roads between you and safety. The streets between the house and the safety of the Hungarian law enforcement were clear.

 “Kövesse a virágokat, ők a rendõrséghez vezetnek [Follow the flowers, they’ll lead you to the police]” you instruct them.

 You opened the front door and led them out. On the floor, in a straight line, was a of flowers going down the street and around the corner. You had created the path of flowers to guide them to safety, knowing that you couldn’t go with them. You had to go and watch your teams back.

 “Köszönöm [Thank you]” one of the women said, squeezing your hand.

“Megy [Go]” you encouraged, nodding after the others.

 She gave your hand a final squeeze before hurrying after the other.

 You ran to the end of the street, quickly making your way to the road where you knew Steve and Bucky were squaring off against the assailants. Rounding the corner, you see three of them on the ground, with the others attacking the super soldiers.

 An assailant aimed their weapon at Steve, shooting it in rapid succession as he held up his shield to defend himself. You lifted your arm up, pointing at him as you concentrated on the assailant’s feet. Vines quickly wrapped around his right leg and he was pulled off balance. The sudden change in stance loosened his grip on his weapon and stopped him from firing, allowing Steve a moment of reprieve where he could throw his arm out, knocking the man unconscious.

 Your attention turned to Bucky, who was fighting two assailants at once. He grabbed the thrown fist of one in his metal hand, twisting a throwing a kick into the chest of the other man. His flesh hand fisted, knocking the first man backwards.

 It was at that moment you realised something was wrong. There were four assailants on the floor, with Bucky fighting two and Steve moving to remove the seemingly unconscious men’s weapons; knowing that Bucky had his situation under control. That made a total of six, there was one missing.

 Strong vibrations pushed through the floor behind you and you quickly turned to see the final assailant heading for you. He brought his hand, holding a silver combat knife, down towards your chest. You right arm crossed over your body before moving up and to the right, pushing the knife to the side. Your hand flipped over, grabbing his wrist as you crouched and slid under his arm, you leg darting out to swipe at his ankle. As his leg went from under him, you twisted his arm behind his back and pushed him to the ground using his own momentum from falling. You grabbed his dropped knife and stepped off him, allowing the vines to climb over him and hold him down.

 When you stand up, you notice Bucky watching you. His eyes are intense, watching as you push the hair out of your eyes and step away from the man, flipping the knife over in your hand. Walking over to where he stands with Steve, you give him a small smile before focusing on the Capitan.

 “All seven down, civilians are with law enforcement now” you confirm.

“We’ll have to take these weapons back to the states” Steve examines one of the weapons in his hands with distaste.

“We’ll need to take a few members back too” Bucky says. “Need to speak to the others, find out who the top guys are.”

“Mm” Steve agrees before reaching to activate his comms. “I’ll get us a van to transfer these guys.”

 It took a further day to ensure all the terrorists were captured, the team wanting to be certain that all members had been flushed out of hiding and another attack wouldn’t happen after you all left. The younger members of the group squealed quickly, and it was only a matter of hours before you found out who the leaders were and they were flown back to America for questioning, with the rest being taken into custody by Hungarian law enforcement.

 The team stayed in Kecskemét for a further three days to help with aid towards the injured city. While the team’s actions varied, you focused on repairing the damaged structures of the city. Any cracks, holes, or chips were repaired with buildings foundations made stronger. You ensured that every building was to high standards you held, meaning that no one would be getting hurt any time soon.

 By the time you all arrived home, no one felt like celebrating Christmas. You were all tried from the long four days in Europe and just wanted to collapse into bed. Presents were exchanged, but there were no celebrations, just a lazy family dinner of take-out food.

 January

 You had a new nickname to add to your extensive list, Doll. You hadn’t noticed it at first but after the first few times, you realised that was the only nickname that Bucky used for you. He only ever referred to you by your name, or by ‘Doll’, never ‘Ivy’, ‘Petal’, ‘Pet’ or anything else.

 He only used the nickname in private, when no one else was around. Or he would lean beside you and whisper it in your ear.

 “Hey, Doll” he greets when you push through the branchlets of the willow tree.

“Hi, Buck” you return, moving to sit beside him. You accept the cup of coffee, curing your hands around the plastic cup from the thermos. You sipped at the steaming drink, letting it warm you up from the inside. “Thank you. Mm, you added caramel.”

He gave you a small smile and a nod, turning back towards the pond in front of you. “You liked it last time.”

“Oh Buck” you grin, nudging him playfully. “You’re going sweet on me.”

“Don’t know why, you’re a pain in my ass” he teases but you notice his cheeks are tinted pink.

“A pain in your ass?” you laugh, shaking your head. “I grew sunflowers for you, made sure there were plenty of plants for your little bunny friends. I have your back all the time, not just on missions. Remember when Sam and Tony were ganging up on you because of Sophie? I got them to back off. What about when you realised, you’d never tried fajitas? Who cooked them for you? Me. Who saves you plyushka? Me. Oh, and what about-”

“Okay, okay!” he interrupts with a small laugh, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m the pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, you are” you agreed. “You’re lucky that I like you Bucky, or you’d be in trouble.”

 February

 “I’m don’t know about this” Bucky’s voice reaches your ears as you walk towards the kitchen, low and unsure.

“Do you or do you not like her?” Sam asks and it quiet for a moment before he continues. “That tell the woman! We all know she’s sweet on you.”

“She’s pro’lly just being nice” Bucky disagrees.

“Buck… she’s not like that with other people” Steve’s voice joins the mix.

 Your heart stops for a second, who were they on about? Bucky had a crush on someone, who? By the sounds of it, it was someone who was nice to him. Then again, who wasn’t nice to Bucky. He was like a little puppy which the team secretly adored.

 You knew it wasn’t Wanda, she was happily with Vision.

 It could be Natasha. She had always had a close friendship with Bucky, sharing experiences which were eerily similar, and he had even shot her once, which she was completely okay with. It was a strange friendship, you admit, but it was clear that they favoured one another. They had silent conversations with just a shared look and seemed to be completely in sync when on missions.

 It could be Sophie, from the third floor. She was sweet on Bucky; you knew that for sure. She had brought him coffee, invited him to see a movie and made him baked good. You had thought, however, that Bucky wasn’t interested in the girl. Maybe you were wrong, maybe he did like her.

 A part of your mind whispered that it could be you, but you quickly dismissed it. Bucky had never shown any interest towards you that wasn’t platonic.

 “So, what, I just ask her out?” Bucky asks.

“Ooh, who are you asking out, Bucky?” you force a smile onto your face as you walk into the kitchen.

“Well-” Sam begins, his normal shit-eating grin on his face.

“No one” Bucky is quick to interrupt, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“Oh, come on! Sam and Steve know, why can’t I?” you pouted, reaching for a glass.

“You’re different. You’re not one of the guys or anything, you’re… you” he shrugged.

 Your shoulders deflated at the comment and you realised it was true. You were just Y/N, you weren’t one of ‘them’. You had thought that you and Bucky had gotten closer but obviously that assumption had been wrong. You weren’t close enough for him to talk to you about stuff like that, his words had made it obvious that he didn’t want to talk to you about it just because you were a girl. He didn’t want to talk to you about it because you were Y/N.

 “Oh” you nodded quietly. You filled your glass with water and walked back to the door. “I get it, sorry for asking.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean it like that” he rushes to say.

You held up your hand to stop him, giving a smile which probably looked more like a grimace. “Its fine, Barnes, don’t worry. I get it. I’m sorry for asking.”

 You left the room quickly, retreating back to your room and crawling under your duvet. You’d never called him by his surname before. You usually referred to him as Bucky, or Buck, and, when you were feeling particularly playful, sometimes ‘sir’. If your tone didn’t show that he had hurt your feelings, your use of his surname would definitely make him aware.

 It felt like hours later when there was a knock on your bedroom door. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and open the door. On the other side, Bucky is standing with his hands in his pockets, slightly hunched and looking as if he was trying to appear smaller. He rolled him lips into his mouth, his voice quiet as he asked if he could come in.

 Closing the door behind him, you returned back to your bed, pulling one of your pillows into your lap as he stood in the middle of your room. He looked around himself, taking note of the loveseat, which was covered with a fluffy blanket, your laptop balanced on the arm. Your wardrobe door was slightly agar and had a scarf hanging over it.

 “I’m sorry for what I said” he apologies again, avoiding looking at you.

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have been nosey” you shrug.

“No, you don’t understand” he sighs, his metal hand brushing the hair back from his face. “I didn’t want to tell you because… because…”

“Because I’m me, I get it” you assure. “I’m the person you sit and look at flowers with, I’m not the person you talk to about your crushes.”

“No, you’re not” he agrees.

 You nod your head, biting your lip as your eyes stings. Your chest aches, as if a hole had been carved through it. The thing that hurt you wasn’t that Bucky liked someone else, it was that he didn’t consider you a close enough friend to want to tell you.

 You had considered him one of your closest friends. You told him your secrets, told him of your desires to go back to Russia one day and see your home city. Of wanting to visit places you hadn’t gotten a chance to because of you were hiding before. You had told him that you were scared that one day, Hydra would find you again; something you hadn’t even told Wanda or Nat. He knew of your secret love to goad Tony into an argument by speaking in a language he didn’t understand. And he knew so much more than that.

 And yet he didn’t want to tell you this. You knew it was ridiculous to be hurt by something like this, it was small and trivial, but you couldn’t help your feelings. Your feelings were valid though. The person you trusted, didn’t trust you in return. It was, sad to say, a fact which you would have to accept.

 “You’re the person I have a crush on” Bucky finishes, his voice small as he finally looks at you.

 His expression is one of obvious worry. His blue eyes are wide and doe-like, watching you with nerves as you try to come to terms with his confession. He’s rolling his lips into his mouth, waiting for your reaction which he no doubt expected to be negative.

 “You… what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Me? I’m the person who you have a crush on? Why would it be me?”

“Why wouldn’t it be you, doll?” he snorts, giving a small shake of his head. “You’re amazing. You grew my favourite flowers for me, without hardly knowing me. You save my seat on the sofa during every movie night because you know that I like being on the end. You make sure there are toffees in the snack draw for me, and you hide the Starbursts from Tony and Clint for me… You took me to Starbucks and Walmart for the first time, and you helped me hide from the woman in Target. You trimmed my hair when I got too nervous about the hairdresser and you sit with me when I need my arm looked at. You watch out for me on missions and when we get back, you always bake me something to cheer me up…”

 He moves to crouch before you, taking your hand in his. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, likes its about to break through your rib cage. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Bucky Barnes had a crush on you. Your heart was souring, your mind floating through the clouds.

 “You’re sweet on me, doll, but I’m just as sweet on you” he tells you. “It’s okay, though, if you don’t feel the same. I don’t expect you too. I know that its pro’lly just you being nice. You’re always nice, nice to everyone… but… I just want you to know, it’s you that I like, and I’ve liked you for a long time.”

 One of your hands left his, moving to cover your mouth as you laughed in disbelief. The tears in your eyes changed from those of hurt to those of pure joy. Bucky liked you, he wanted you. You couldn’t believe it. You hadn’t allowed yourself to believe that this moment could ever happen, it was never a real possibility in your mind. And yet here he was, professing his feelings for you.

 “I do” you assure him, pulling your hand away from your face so that he could see your smile. “I do like you!”

“Really?” his eyes light up, a grin quickly spreading over his face.

“Of course,” you nod, cupping his face. “You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, Bucky, how could I not? You make me feel things that I never thought were possible. Being around you, I feel happy, I feel free. I can’t even put into words how much you mean to me.”

 By the time you’ve finished speaking, his hands are gently cupping your face, his thumbs softly tracing your cheeks. You could see the slightly tears in his eyes, and his smile is wide and happy. It’s as if he’s just heard everything he has ever wanted to hear, as if you had said the magic words.

 His eyes flicker from your own, down to your lip and then back to your eyes. You give a small nod, barely moving your head but he catches the movement and he leans him.

 When his lips touch yours, your breath leaves your body in a pleasured sigh. While his lips are soft, their a little chapped from where he has bit them due to his nerves. They were gentle against yours, the pressure light as he didn’t want to push you too far.

 You were on top of the world, your heart beating erratically as you leaned into the kiss, your fingers tracing his stubble. You had never thought that kissing Bucky would be like this. It was like a set of fireworks were going off in your chest, and you were more than happy with it.

 “Does this mean I’m your girl?” you ask him, smiling when you’ve pulled back from the kiss.

“My best girl” he confirms, pulling your lips back to his.

 And you went happily.

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