#case and point- he's basically saying 'stubborn stubbornness' in the second panel

[clevercatchphrase]

Page 341

(Links coming in afternoon reblog!)

[nami-writes]

Seek, And Ye Shall Find - Harry Potter

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bravery.

“That’s your bed?” Malfoy— Draco— asks, looking around the Gryffindor dormitory.

“Yeah,” he responds, and watches as Draco beelines to flop on the empty bed beside it. “That’s your bed?”

“Seems like it.” He points up at the plaque on the upper panel in the front. “Room 2, bed 4. They gave me the assignment, I just never showed up to find it.”

“People have been talking about it for months, and I’ve finally cracked the case,” Harry says. “Bloody hell, I’ve been wondering all year why McGonagall hasn’t just magicked it away when nobody uses it. That explains quite a bit.”

Draco chuckles. “Ironic, too. It's right next to yours.”

Harry grins. “Ron won't be very happy. He's in the other bed next to yours.”

“Weasley will live,” Draco says. “Me, maybe not, once he finds out.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Harry teases. “You’re very stubborn about not dying.”

“And you’re very stubborn about dying.”

“Suppose we both have a bit of Gryffindor in us, then,” he says, and for the first time, Draco doesn’t disagree.

—

Near midnight, they head out to the Quidditch pitch riding each other’s brooms. Draco insisted on trying Harry’s Firebolt again, then added that he wants to see if Harry’s just as skilled without it, so of course he handed it over and now he mounts Draco’s Nimbus 2001 on the field. It feels just like his old Nimbus 2000, only smoother and more responsive, and he’s surprised at how much quicker it accelerates. Not Firebolt impressive, but impressive nonetheless.

This time, they agree on basic rules for their not-really-Quidditch game. Contact is fine but no magic, bounds are the school grounds, and the winner will be determined as whoever has the Golden Snitch when the fireworks start going off at midnight. Harry asks if they’re just playing Capture the Flag. Draco looks at him like he’s crazy. Harry mumbles something along the lines of “never mind, it’s a Muggle thing”— and the game kicks off.

—

Exhilarated, Harry races along the side of the castle with the Snitch in hand. Riding with one hand is difficult when the other clutches a struggling Snitch but Draco is on his tail and catching up fast. Plus, the fireworks are going to go off any minute and he wants a good view.

He glances behind him, once, twice, and when Draco reaches out to grab his broom he cuts sharply up the wall at an angle so Draco misses just barely. Draco is faster but Harry is more nimble and he adjusts his flying style to reflect that. This is why Draco flew the way he did for their previous match— it wasn’t just fancy moves for show, it was to throw him off. Draco knew the Firebolt had a speed advantage. Having an opponent who can challenge him like that regardless of what broom he rides is refreshing.

They soar above the castle now and dodge pointy towertops and Christmas lights hanging from balconies. Weaving back and forth with Draco, their chase almost becomes a dance and for a moment, Harry forgets they’re supposed to be enemies.

The clock tower passes on his right, Draco on the opposite side, and Harry catches the time: five to midnight. The fireworks should be going off in the courtyard soon and at this rate, Draco’s not going to get the Snitch back. Might as well give him a chance and have some fun while he’s at it.

“Catch!” he shouts and tosses the Snitch across to Draco just far enough out of reach that he has to pitch backwards. Initially surprised by the sudden motion, he recovers and smoothly flows into a loop-de-loop to level back out, but his hand misses its mark and the Snitch flits away. He looks at Harry, confused. “Second chance! Don’t waste it!”

And then he spins around and bolts past Draco, who reacts just as quickly to take off across the top of Hogwarts.

They fly over the courtyard giggling like children and they must attract eyes on the ground but in the moment, there’s nobody but him and Draco and the Golden Snitch. The flashing of the Snitch dodging in and out of the shadows and Draco’s pale hair mussed by the wind are all he sees and Draco’s so intensely focused that for the first time all year, not even he pays any mind to the unwanted gazes on them.

The Snitch dips low to a flat terrace and Draco is locked in, blazing forward at it. Harry might’ve sabotaged himself by giving up the Snitch, because there’s no way he can reach it from where he is.

He can reach Draco, though, and for the second time in two months, he dives off of his broom.

His body collides with Draco’s and together they topple onto the terrace, rolling to a stop when their brooms fall to the ground. The Snitch scurries out of reach again and buzzes in midair, mocking.

“Oh, come on! I had that!” Draco pouts, then glares at Harry. “What is it with you and throwing yourself off of brooms?”

Harry laughs. “Must be that Gryffindor bravery.”

“More like recklessness,” he remarks, but his eyes are bright with his smile.

They sit there, tangled in one another, quiet as they each recover from the fall. Draco is breathless with adrenaline still fresh in his blood, chest rising and falling with his tired pants, and yet he looks so relaxed and composed as he leans back to stare at the Snitch hovering from afar. His smile has faded but there's still that glimmer of excitement on his face. Harry can’t tear his eyes away. He’s never seen Draco so content— so passionate and real— but he decides right there that he never wants to stop seeing it.

The sky ignites, then, with a loud pop and a shriek and a sizzle, and he's mesmerized. So much so that Draco has to look back at him to startle him out of his daze and realize he's been staring at the way Draco lights up under the colors and not the fireworks themselves. He can't help it— apparently the fireworks are each House emblem, and Draco looks damn good in any of the colors.

Especially red.

Harry starts. “Can I—”

—And Draco finishes the thought by greedily leaning in and pulling Harry towards him until their lips meet and Harry can feel Draco's heart hammering along with his own.

Draco’s hand is on the back of Harry's head but he's messy and distracted, too focused on what he wants to figure out how to get it, and it's not enough, not nearly enough. Harry grabs at his shoulder and cups his face and pulls him in close so they're almost hugging over their tangled legs, and he takes control. With little complaint, Draco melts under his command, surrendering all the power to Harry.

Their eyes close and the fireworks are no more than a distant memory. One body pressed against the other, arms wrapped around torsos and necks, Harry vaguely registers losing his balance and toppling over. Draco doesn't seem to realize or care. He tastes like pain and like longing, like craving and desperation, and it's the biggest pleasure in the world for Harry to be the one to fulfill it all.

To both of their utter dismay, Harry breaks the kiss, because otherwise he's going to pass out from not breathing. Draco seems to share the same sentiment though, and pants even harder than he did when he fell off of Harry’s broom.

“Didn’t—” The words catch in Draco’s throat and he clears it, awkwardly looking away. “Didn’t know you could, uh… do that.”

Harry grins down at him. A sudden thought pops into his head and playfully, each of his hands take Draco’s to pin beside his head. He leans down. “Yeah? I didn't know you had enough Gryffindor in you to initiate it.”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” Draco snaps, and he leans up to close the distance.

—

When they finally pull apart— for good this time— the fireworks are long gone. The Snitch has deactivated on its own, sitting on the ground. Draco exhales with amusement. “I guess we both lost, huh.”

“No,” Harry says and smiles. “I think we both won.”

—

Draco has always looked at him with envy and jealousy. But for the first time, he also lets the corresponding admiration and pride show through, and it's the most satisfying feeling in the world.

Harry laughs softly to himself, unable to believe it. He bagged a Malfoy. Or maybe, a Malfoy bagged him.

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Tell me if I'm being crazy here but I was just wondering if you feel like the Ogata in the anime is an inaccurate representation of the Ogata we get in the manga? And if you feel the same as me why may that be? I really can't nail it but it's bothering me watching him in it. Like they missed the point of his character.

Well...

...in itself all the characters are inaccurately represented in the anime.

There are some problems that come with the anime adaptation:

- the first is not really a fault of who creates the anime, merely a consequence of the anime being a different medium. As a result some things can’t be delivered in the same way as the manga.

For example this is one of the spread pages in which Noda plays with the contrast between what happens in one half and what happens in the other half.

On one side we’ve Sugimoto and Asirpa eating warm food together, safe and happy, on the other we’ve Ogata being shown alone (although we know there’s people around him) about to freeze to death and in a poor shape.

You can’t just get the same effect on the anime.

We see a similar trick also used in a scene that seems to foreshadow the ‘cat alliance’. In this three panel we see Edogai’s cat and then, below his panel, two panel showing Wildcat Ogata and Tiget Kiroranke exchanging a nod as they turn at the same time.

You just can’t get the same effect in the anime but the anime didn’t even made an effort as it didn’t show the cat falling on the ground (or better, it’ll show it but later on) but just Ogata first and Kiro after, both clearly looking at Hijikata without turning, Ogata’s expression different from the original (change of expressions is a point in which I’ll dig later).

...and the same goes for other ‘manga only’ ways to show things. For example the manga can use a swirling shade to imply that Ogata is actually in turmoil despite looking calm on the outside.

The anime wouldn’t be able to do such thing without making the draws looking weird. Of course some anime would find different ways to drive home the same concept (from a certain music to moving the whole swirling to the background or things like that)... but Geno tends to miss those details.

Anyway this might seems minor, many believe they don’t notice this sort of details... but actually most of those details are meant to pass below your conscious radar, and give you a determinate feeling without you quite realizing it. They shape the background of your opinion on the characters or of their relations or of the themes of the story.

- another problem is something for which the adaptation can be partly blamed and it’s the matter of cutting scenes. We should probably split the anime adaptation into the three series because they had different fates.

A premise. Out of late anime series have started being created for being 12 episodes series for commercial reasons. I won’t get into details on the why but this affected GK as all its series are 12 episodes and, to fit all the amount they decided to fit in 12 episodes, cutting scenes was mandatory in many cases. You just wouldn’t manage to put everything in them.

Plus, many anime series aren’t created to cover the whole storyline but just a part of it, using the anime series merely as a way to promote the manga (and likely, originally GK was planned to be a mere 12 episodes series).

Now, in GK case...

The first series adapted most of the story. There were however some relevant cuts that affected the series, the main one being how they completely removed Umeko from the plot something that hugely affected Sugimoto’s characterization but also, will come to bite back in future series with the result it’ll affect Sugimoto and Asirpa. Another notable cut was the Barato arc. They recovered it in the OAD, but if you don’t watch the OAD but just the anime, you’ve a great hole in the plot development. If the series has stopped at 12 episodes and had been merely a promotional mean for the story it wouldn’t have been a big deal but we know ultimately it continued. I would also say in some points it felt a bit rushed... but again, it could have worked for a promotional series... while it feels pretty bad for an ongoing one.

The second series was... a mess. It cuts left and right without really paying care to connect well the various parts of the story. Parts of the cuts had a reason to be, as some scenes seemed hard to transpose in an anime (think Anehata), others though were just cut so that they would fit in the 12 episodes quota all the plot that was missing to cover the story up till Abashiri, when the series would have benefitted greatly if they had stopped sooner instead than making a mad rush for Abashiri that translated in a cutting fest. They then recovered the Shiraishi arc, the giant snake arc, the boss Wakayama arc, the Anehata arc in 3 OAD (but we still miss the Lighting bandit arc and the fake Ainu arc), but it’s worth to mention some of whose OAD clearly weren’t planned, as they can’t connect anymore with the series which cut them in such a way they can’t be reinserted anymore.

The third series tried again adapting everything except the Sekiya arc and the Koito past arc. Overall though, despite those two cuts, they tried to adapt the most they could and at a decent pace, which allows the third series to come out as the best of the 3.

Result of this all?

The characterization of most of the characters, especially if you watch only the anime series without the OAD (or with the OAD but not placed in the order in which the manga storyline would have placed them), suffers of a lot of cuts that are instead important for their development.

Ogata is, of course, among the ones affected.

Some cuts are small, for example here we see him explaining that he’s not just randomly escaping, but that he has assested the situation and a retreat was the smartest thing he could do.

The same goes here, with Ogata again analyzing the situation and planning countermeasures as well as taking care of their weaknesses (warning Nikaidou to hide his binoculars).

And the same goes here

Ogata is even capable to point out that Hijikata’s plan might suceed at first but not in the long run, which shows a capacity of analysis of the big picture.

Plot wise this kind of cuts are meaningless, they don’t change the story but, character wise, they rob Ogata of one of his main characteristics, observing a situation, analyzing it and being fast to come up with a valid course of action.

You’ll find many cuts through the anime series and they touch various aspects of each character.

Sometimes those cuts affected lines exchanged between characters so that the relationships felt different because some things were just left unsaid.

Other cuts affected the boxes explaining things, for example in the anime we aren’t told why Ogata eats snow but we’re supposed to figure out on our own, or how the bear could sneak up without Ogata and Nikaidou noticing or how Ogata learnt during the war that he had to avoid hitting vital parts to slow his pursuers down and so on.

Then there are the HUGE cuts, the one I mentioned before, that involved plot threads (Umeko) or entire arcs, or had arcs placed in OAD that not everyone saw or that don’t well connect with the anime.

The Barato Arc and the Anehata arc both involved Ogata significantly, so not seeing the OAD affects the understanding of the character.

The fake Ainu arc being cut stripped Ogata of a lot of scenes, among which Sugimoto’s stubborn refusal of Ogata’s logical theory (those Ainu are fake) as well as didn’t show how Ogata saved Sugimoto’s life by shooting to a fake Ainu who was about to kill Sugimoto, returning Sugimoto’s favour (Sugimoto saved him while they were in Edogai’s house).

The Lighting bandit arc in the manga worked well to tie with the fact Ogata was a child born from parents who didn’t love each other. The anime kept Ogata’s backstory (and animated it mostly rather well) but it felt less strong since it lacked the frame of the Lighting bandit arc... and the worst part is we lost this bit.

The constant cutting of Umeko from the plot ended up causing the scene in which Sugimoto replied to Asirpa he was searching the gold to take care of a friend’s widow and Ogata pointed out how that widow was the woman Sugimoto loved and also realized how Asirpa was crushing for Sugimoto. The lack of this bit affects how we read the whole scene on the ice in Karafuto.

The fact the anime decided to skip the Anehata arc, changed the reunion between Ogata and Tanigaki making Ogata’s reaction to the death of Tamai and Co and to the discovery of how they actually died weaker and even deprived us of Sugimoto’s recurring ‘don’t trust Ogata’ to Asirpa who instead trust him, affecting how the relations were presented. This cause the relationship between Sugimoto and Ogata to look much better than it was.

Also, they removed Ogata’s presence once they were in the blind bandits house. He entered in it with Sugimoto but then the anime decided to have him disappear and left Sugi to handle it all when in the manga Ogata was there to help.

- another HUGE problem are the transposition choices. The biggest fault of the first series is to tend to present the character from a distance or from behind, hardly showing us their expressions. The Japanese voice actors (sorry I hadn’t tried out the dubs), expecially Tsuda Kenjiro, Ogata’s voice actor, do try their best but sometimes you just need to see the faces to get a feeling of what they’re feelings.

Look at this manga scene in which we see Ogata’s expression trice.

Do you know what they showed us in the anime? This.

Basically the anime put entirely on Tsuda Kenjiro the burden of delivering to the viewers Ogata’s displeased and suspicious feelings. Only Tsuda Kenjiro was instructed on keeping Ogata mostly toneless so, while he’s still an awesome actor and there are differences in his performance that give out what Ogata is feeling, they don’t come out as obvious as the visual of the manga, especially to a not Japanese viewer. It’s not a choice to keep Ogata mysterious, it’s a specific problem of the 1st anime series which does it with many, many characters, Sugimoto and Asirpa included because drawing and recycling such a scene takes less effort than animating all the panels that were in the manga.

It’s a problem mostly of the first series though, as the two following series were more expression friendly but... but the expressions they showed in all three series were often different from the ones used in the manga. Look at how in this scene Ogata is serious, I’ll say worried in the manga since his face is shadowed and as he understands something might be up but he has no idea what he is, but he clearly doesn’t like this development...

...while he grins in the anime, his face well light as if he’s having the best day of his life.

Then when he’s proudly showing off what he knows in the manga he smiles...

while in the anime he feels down.

Smiling with his eyes raised...

...versus not smiling with his eyes lowered.

...and so on and I don’t even know why they felt the need to change the various characters’ expressions (yeah, it’s not just an Ogata’s problem) as there’s simply no reason to do it.

On an interesting  note the anime chose to expand some fighting scenes. Ogata’s first fight with Sugimoto is longer, as Ogata manages to swing his bayonet a little before ending up on the ground (which is detrimental of Sugimoto who’s WAY more amazing of a fighter than him as Sugimoto can fight on par with Gansoku and Ushiyama) and felt the need to stretch the confrontation with Tsukishima too.

In the manga Tsukishima just kicks Ogata, Ogata notices Tsukishima is taking then gun and then tosses himself behind the stuffed people as he was still in that room. In the anime Ogata is in the room with the stuffed bear instead. Tsukishima kicks him behind it but then Ogata manages to spring out the room and go hid behind the stuffed people in the other room.

On another note, when in Edogai’s house Ogata is being beaten up by a soldier in the manga it’s shown he’s trying to protect himself with his arms while in the anime he seems to remain there completely still... and the anime put a sudden focus on Ogata’s eyes to switch at Sugimoto attacking the soldier and, at the same time pushing him away from Ogata, as if Ogata knew that he wouldn’t die there because Sugimoto was there to cover up for him, where in the manga there’s no emphasis on Ogata’s eyes and the two scenes are cut by how one has to turn page... plus Sugimoto hit the soldier so that he fell above Ogata so it’s clear Ogata wouldn’t have managed to glimpse Sugimoto.

 - Lastly yes, they missed the point of many of his interactions. For example the anime makers said they believed since Ogata’s mom kept on making the anglerfish nabe, it was because Ogata liked it, a sign she liked her son... when, according to the story, she kept on making it because it was his father’s favourite dish and she had gotten mad. In Karafuto they downplayed Asirpa’s efforts to have Ogata say citatap and hinna and completely missed how Ogata was allucinating her as Yuusaku...

(I mean in this scene is pretty obvious there’s a parallel between the two so I’m not sure how the anime missed it)

...and the anime seems to put more focus on how the lynx and Ogata’s tracks superimposed than on how Ogata is now walking on a different path from the lynx... just to list some of the things that came to my mind.

For more I’ve a couple of tags in which I compared the episode transposition and the manga one in details or a little more vaguely.

So, long story short, anime Ogata can’t help but give a different impression compared to manga Ogata.

He misses part of his story, his interactions are different, his expressions are changed, scenes that were meant to deliver certain things aren’t there so of course he seems another person.

It’s not done specifically to him though, as everyone suffered about this.

The anime, in his attempt to make the story simple and more... ‘shonen’ friendly has taken away much of the grey concepts for a more black and white picture which influenced also how situations were presented.

But well, while I’m not satisfied, part of this is done to market the show to a wider audience so it’s kind of a forced choice.

(On a sidenote it’s worth to remember that the anime adapt the volume version of the story which differs from the mangazine version in some relevant points. So not all the changes are completely made up by the anime.)

I hope it helps. Thank you for your ask!

[anotherashley]

I have to ask, where did this info about Jonny hurting his knee in game 6 come from? Just curious. I obviously missed it!

hey no worries. sharpy talked about it during the reliving the 2010 cup win panel during the convention.

he basically said that Q tried to keep it lowkey because he didn’t want philly to know what was up in case there was going to be a game seven. so he sent jonny out for a face-off, jonny stayed out there for maybe 20 seconds or so before going back to the bench and then luckily patrick scored the game winning goal not long after.

and really thank god for that because jonny wouldn’t have been able to play in game seven if they’d lost and you just know his stubborn ass would’ve tried. these are my thoughts btw, sharpy didn’t say this. but i’m sure he thought it too at some point lmao. but like just imagine a game seven without jonathan toews out there? UNIMAGINABLE. and patrick knew it. and so he went out there and won it for them both all. i can’t be convinced otherwise.

[literarytrashcollection]

Where Are Any of Us Going? (Part 9/10): Then They’d Have to Kill You

 (Bucky x Reader)

“Bucky, I need to tell you something.” I finally burst, massaging his back lightly.

“Tell me,” he mumbled, turning his head so he could hear me better.

“They’re all lying about the tech expo thing that we’re supposed to go to next weekend.” I admitted, pressing harder to work the knots out as I spoke.

He didn’t answer for a long time. “Why?”

“Because we’re really going to take out the base that the signals going to my head came from. They don’t want you to go because they don’t think you’ll react well to me being the scout or it being a HYDRA base.” I pushed his hair off his neck and worked the muscles there, chewing my lip as I awaited a response.

“Why are you telling me?” His voice was soft, a little sad.

“I couldn’t… not. It didn’t seem fair to let you go on a mission with Nat without knowing that I might not come back.”

He pushed up onto his hands and knees for a second before turning to sit facing me. “You want to be able to say ‘goodbye’, just in case?”

“I don’t want them to have to tell you the truth if I don’t make it back and your last memory of me tainted with a lie.” I mumbled.

He nodded slightly. “You felt guilty for lying.”

“That too.”

“Why?”

“Because… you know. Because I love you, Buck. I can’t lie to you in good conscious.”

He sighed and grabbed my hands in his. “Part of being an agent is keeping the secrets that hurt us the most.”

“I’m not an agent though.” I whispered.

“For this, you are. Thank you for telling me.” He pulled me in for a quick kiss. “From here on though, do as they tell you, okay?”

I nodded, my fingers fidgeting in my lap, the clinking sounds of metal against metal slowly becoming torture. I finally just folded my fingers together, staring at them as if they held all of the answers to the questions I was afraid to ask.

“I have not had any reason to keep anything from you, y’know, doll.” He turned my face back to his. “And if I do, you’ll be the first to know. I’d rather you worry and be prepared for bad news then be blissfully ignorant.”

“Don’t tell them that I said anything.”

He laughed and kissed my cheek. “Of course not, then they would have to kill you.”

I pulled back and stared at him, shoving his face back when he erupted with laughter. “You’re such a dick,” I muttered, pulling my knees up to my chest.

“Yes, but I’m your dick.” He grinned, crawling over my knees to tackle me.

“Hey, Stevie,” I grinned as I slid into the lab next to him. He pulled me under his arm and sighed heavily. “You don’t seem too cheerful.”

“We’re here to give you bulletproof clothing and go over the mission plan,” he laughed, with a touch of hysteria. “I’m sending my best friend’s untrained girlfriend into the field to probably get shot at. Sorry if I’m not too excited about it.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll find a way to make you smile.”

He groaned a little and shook his head. “You really are perfect for Bucky. Unwaveringly stubborn.”

Tony and Nat came in, chattering animatedly at each other. Once they settled, we began.

I was given a tight body suit that looked kind of like a scuba suit. I was to wear it under my clothes and it would block bullets from entering my body. They’d hurt like a bitch, but they wouldn’t break skin. The suit only covered my shoulders and torso and legs, my arms had been left free so I’d have the most use of them. It was an old suit from Natasha and she’d been the one to cut the arms off for me.

That and it wasn’t likely that anyone was going to damage my arms, no matter what.

My next gift was one of Steve’s old shields, a collapsible version that, when collapsed, was small enough to hide inside the arm of a hoodie. This was mainly to hide my face in case someone tried to aim for my head.

My last gift was from Tony.

“These will discourage people from getting too close to you.” He pressed two little discs into the palms of my hands. “They’re basically just the flight stabilizers I use in my suits, but juiced up enough to keep enemies off you. Just tap the center before you want to use it, then point.”

I nodded, turning my hands over and flexing my fingers a little.

“We’ll have you do some practice with your blasters and some firearm practice. After that, we head out Thursday afternoon. We get into position Friday night and begin our plan.” Natasha pulled up a map of the area on the work bench, a 3D print hanging over so we could see everything.

“The entrance should be here,” she gestured to a clearing in the middle of dense forest. “You’ll walk in, with your hands over your head, yelling for help. Someone will eventually be dispatched to either bring you in or kill you. Staying on the positive note, we will assume they bring you in. They will search you. It should be a standard pat down, so they’ll probably find Cap’s shield. Plan on it being confiscated. Make sure you can use your arms to guard your face too.” She bore into me with her eyes and I nodded.

“Once you’re in, we’ll be able to follow you with the tracker embedded in the suit. We’ll know where you are in the building at all times.”

“I thought you were going on the mission with Bucky.”

“I am, but I had to make sure that you were taken care of.” She smiled a little.

“You need to find a computer, on your own, as fast as you can,” Steve interjected. “You need to pull as much information from them as possible so we can figure out how many others they have like you so we can get them all taken care of.”

“The thumb drive is going to be hidden in your arm panel. Pop it out, stick it in the port and it will automatically download all of the information from that computer.” Nat added.

“Is there a specific computer I should be looking for?”

“They should all be on the same server, so if you hit any of them, it’ll be fine.” She nodded. “Steve and Tony will be just outside of the clearing. If HYDRA starts trying to fight back, Tony and Steve will be there to back you up. As soon as you get inside though, they’ll have a hell of a time trying to get in to help you. You need to be able to defend yourself alone, okay?”

I nodded and leaned into Steve a little. He’d become just as good a friend to me as Bucky. And he was the only one who was going to be able to keep me together on this mission.

“You only gotta do like, three things; get in, get to a computer, defend yourself if necessary. Super easy.” Tony chimed in.

“Easy,” I agreed.

TAGS LIST: (Let me know if you’d like to be added!) @libbymouse @veganfangirl5 @hiddles-rose @sonic-lipstick-is-mine @coffeebeforewater @thefridgeismybestie

[whitewolfbumble]

The Fallout - Part Four (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You had been a ghost for years, taking down the bad guys from the shadows that had once enslaved you. That is until the Avengers finally caught up with you and yet again your life changed. But your past won’t stay dead and everything starts to shift when a familiar face joins the ranks: Bucky Barnes. He may not remember you, but you certainly remember him.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: About 4k

Warnings: Slow burn, language, intense and gory violence, graphically depicted fight scenes, death, threats of rape, vague depiction of suicide (? depends how you read it, message me if you want me to sum it up for you just in case)

A/N: Okay, so this one gets violent, aka people die here. I love the idea of this part and how it visually plays in my head but I wasn’t overly a fan of writing it. Considering the POV for this I wrote it somewhat clinically and tried to keep the gore down, but considering the content... you be the judge. Also fight scenes are HARD and I would appreciate any feedback!!

Speaking of, I really love you guys. Thank you for reaching out to me with how much you’ve enjoyed this story, for liking, for reblogging, or for wanting to be tagged. It gives me the warm and fuzzies and seriously motivates me. If you enjoy this part please let me know!

MY MASTERLIST // THE FALLOUT MASTERLIST // PART THREE

You squinted in the sun, feeling the morning heat start to build in the air around you, breaking up the cool dawn air that was dissipating fast.

“I’m grounded. Voluntarily. He can go, but I’m not shifting my focus,” you reiterated for the fifth time that day. “It’ll give me some time alone to make a proper plan.”

It was a bit of a weird turn out all-in-all, but you stood by your words.

“Which, okay, again, makes no sense here,” Tony said walking up from behind you, ready to go with the others on the quinjet.

Everyone had made some kind of comment as they walked onto the jet in the warm morning air, and you were relieved that he was the last of them. This was definitely the last time you waved them off for a mission.

“He has a point, Y/N,” Bucky himself said.

You and he had walked here together but he had yet to get on, hair blowing in the wind and metal arm practically blinding in the sun.

“Ah, you’re finally learning,” Tony said to Bucky. “Yes, you’re right, I am in fact the smartest, most logical, and in this case certainly the rightest here.”

You rolled your eyes at the pomp and Bucky looked unimpressed.

“You were Hydra," Tony said exaggeratingly, as though you for one second of your life forgot that fact. "And this is a Hydra base. You’re all over this shit normally. We can’t pry you off of this stuff.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking at him dully. “So, I join in your merry band and what? Take down the villain of this tale? And then get completely caught up in the terror of it all and lose what my focus should be. Because trust me, Hydra will always be out there for me to fight. Or how about I go in, step on the Hulk's toes- thus killing us all- because there will be six Avengers in one teeny tiny tunnel together doing basic recon?”

You stood, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, giving Tony quite the look.

“You make a decent point," he tried to counter, walking backwards towards the open jet ramp. "But we’re going to the base, not the tunnels.”

“The base is underground Tony, I didn’t forget,” you said, continuing dismissively. “But yeah, cool, have a great time. I’ll hold down our home base tonight.”

Man, this had gotten repetitive. You were glad to finally see the backside of Tony as he strolled on the quinjet with a shrug.

Bucky was the last one on the platform with you, waiting at your side for a moment. He stood there watching you with those blue eyes of his, like you were going to change your mind and follow after him. You briefly wondered if that was what he wanted you to do. But eventually with a pointed nod from you, he got the drift and turned to join the Team. He didn’t say a goodbye, just nodded to you as the quinjet door closed.

You walked back to the door from the helipad, waiting as the buzzing roar from the jet sounded and in one smooth motion was airbourne, flying towards the sun and away from you and the Avengers Tower. Lingering outside you didn't so much feel the sun on your skin, but a bit of a storm inside you.

Your reasons for not going weren’t stupid or insane (unlike the Team thought), just not exactly usual for you.

Guaranteed, you would have become obsessed and tried to figure out the puzzle of what was going on, as you always did with Hydra. There was certainly no love lost between you, and for a long time trying to take them down was like the air your breathed: necessary and life-giving.

Hydra was predictable to you in a lot of ways and without you being involved and seeing it first hand, you couldn’t tell what was happening. Maybe you could’ve figured it out too. But then you would have spent every waking hour pouring over everything and hitting up (as in literally fighting) old underworld organizations for intel. It would mean ignoring the outwardly frivolous time with Bucky that ultimately seemed internally fruitful. And that wouldn’t last forever so it was time to think of a plan now anyways.

But also you were a stubborn and resolute kind of person. It was the only reason why you were alive now. And you had told the Team you weren’t going, that you were out for this mission. And you couldn’t go back on your word no matter how much you wanted too.

The Team was more than capable of handling themselves anyways and you knew they would succeed. Even if it went against every fighting instinct in your body not to jump on that jet.

Gritting your teeth in resolve you shifted your focus, finally having a night to yourself which never happened. You might as well enjoy it for all it’s worth, huh?

_______

Despite the potential activity that had popped up overnight that prompted this mission, to Bucky and the rest of the Team, the base had looked to be unused and abandoned. It had been fruitless, and certainly not worth the whole team going, just as you had pointed out earlier.

Sam was still away, and Vision and Wanda had “separately” taken a personal leave a few days ago, each spouting some kind of see-through excuse. Even Bucky knew they were together at this point, but everyone had feigned ignorance, playing along with the facade that they knew nothing.

Clint had dropped off the Team at the Tower before leaving himself in the jet, though Bucky didn’t know where and no one asked.

It was dark, with the cool night air settling in by the time they got back. Bucky stepped off the quinjet with the rest and looked around to see if you were there to greet them as you had seen them off.

But there was no sign of you. Maybe your resolution to stay out of the way of this mission went deeper than he figured. He thought you would even just casually want to know how it went.

Bucky wondered if you’d be frustrated that nothing happened, or frustrated if the Hydra agents were there and that you yourself weren’t there to take them down. Either way, he was curious on how you would respond.

You must be curious about it. Maybe this was a demonstration to the Team how supposedly “disinterested” you were. Which was a total lie. He and everyone else could see the glint of regret that crept into your determined eyes when you adamantly refused to join in. 

As Bucky stepped into the calm, clean hallways of the Tower, he decided even if you weren’t here to hear about this mission, he would fill you in sometime when you were alone so the others wouldn’t know.

After changing clothes he made his way down to the kitchen, assuming you’d be there with a cup of tea and a book.

But the kitchen was dark and quiet. He debated making you a cup again, knowing how you took your tea, but was inexplicably impatient to see you. He dismissively blamed it on this being the first day in a while both not having you near and having to deal with the team himself without you as a buffer of sorts.

Making his way to the lounge area he figured perhaps you were relaxing there. With the both of you sleeping in the same bed together (Bucky tried not to dwell on how that sounded), you had abandoned your nightly routine of training for hours until your collapsed in exhaustion. Instead, now you both trained together for most of the mornings and ended up in the kitchen or lounge at night, settling into an easy silence or quiet reminiscing.

Walking up the glass-walled hallway Bucky noticed Steve, standing in his sweats having changed himself, unmoving. He was illuminated by a warm glow, staring through the glass wall into the room on the other side, still and silent.

“Hey, what—” Bucky said, walking around to Steve’s right side before cutting himself off.

The two out-of-time men stood in front of a floor to ceiling sheet of glass. It was two thick panels of bulletproof glass with a small gap between them. If you went up to the next floor, or down to the floor below, there would be that same glass running through. It was impossibly strong, needing the structural integrity to run through a few floors.

On the other side of that impenetrable glass lay the lounge area. Low modern couches with sleek leather and slick black coffees tables were in front of the massive TV screen, over by the corner that held shelves of books, and again on the far side of the room in front of the fireplace. There were two other doors in the room, one being the bathroom door and in the far left corner a door leading up to a large private balcony. Bucky remembered questioning the presence of a tub in the lounge bathroom, Y/N explaining that Tony like to fill it with ice and champagne for special (or not so special) occasions.

The room itself was at the corner of the building and massive floor to ceiling windows lined two of the walls, showing off the glittering city lights gleaming in the dark.

And, in the centre of this room, was you.

You were there, on your knees with hands bound behind your back, face and eyes emotionless, barely registering the sudden appearance of Steve and Bucky. Thirteen men clad in black holding weapons surrounded you, all of them facing the two Avengers looking in motionlessly.

They had been waiting.

And immediately the fight inside Bucky that he hated erupted in his chest.

“Intruders on the fifty-third,” Steve said low, hiding well his fear. “Thirteen total, carrying weapons, holding one hostage.”

As Bucky’s eyes stayed glued to you, he could see his own faint reflection in the glass, face contorting as a sudden unexpected rush of emotions slammed into him like a ton of bricks hitting his chest. Confusion, hatred, anger, and worry pounded in in a moment, body instantly tense at the sudden onslaught.

But the sudden conflict he felt inside was the one that sent his mind reeling the most. He struggled so deeply to not immediately start breaking the glass to get you the fuck out of there. Because he knew they would shoot you before he could break through. But the looks of it, everyone staring back at them knew it too.

Tony came first, literally flying down the hall fully suited up in his latest gleaming red and gold suit. Quickly he was followed by Thor and Natasha.

“Not a Code Green, Bruce. Stay back until called,” Natasha muttered in her comm to Banner. “… No, we’ll get nowhere if the building crashes down on us.”

“What have they said?” Tony said muted, helmet sliding back smoothly, face taunted and almost twitching with anger. His eyes were locked to yours too, but just like with Bucky you didn’t so much as blink in acknowledgment. Not even a nod, just to show you were alright. All you did was stay kneeling and bound on the ground, eyes dead ahead.

A sinking feeling gripped Bucky’s throat all the down to his gut at that. You weren’t alright. This wasn’t alright.

“Not a word,” Steve said low.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y… what the hell, man?!” Tony spat out and rubbed a hand on his face.

“I don’t know, boss. Looking into it now,” she said before adding a touch quieter. “The odds for this type of interaction aren’t good.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky whispered through his teeth. Even to him he sounded strained.

“Let the lady go and no harm will come to you,” Thor’s voice boomed to the men, lying.

One man moved forward slightly before smiling. He was standing just behind you and all eyes on the Team were immediately glued to him, sizing him up.

“Any anti-intruder spray built into those walls, Tony?” Natasha asked quietly, barely moving her mouth as her body tensed for fight.

“Everything on this floor is all but disabled," F.R.I.D.A.Y responded. "Still processing how this could happen without being warned. You won’t be able to open that door, boss.”

“No, you won’t be getting in here. Not until we’re done.” the man answered, with just a hint of an accent.

He was generally unremarkable. No defining qualities, just brown eyes, a wave to his brown and speckled grey hair. Just under six feet, voice with a pleasant quality to it. Bucky knew immediately he was the type that could disappear in a crowd with ease. His outfit was black, like that of the others, and nondescript, though he was the only one that had the balls to face them without a black mask on.

“Welcome!” he all but shouted, smiling at the group before him. “To the final conclusion to a largely drawn out story.”

Shit.

The word "conclusion" made his stomach drop all the more.

“Steve,” Bucky said low, barely audible.

“I know,” Steve answered back, knowing what Bucky was thinking. “It’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know us,” He waved his gun towards you. “But this one does. She worked with us closely for some time. But since stupidly going it alone, she’s caused us quite a bit of trouble over the years. We’ve been long overdue for a reunion.”

He squatted down behind you, eye roaming over your body. It made Bucky fume, but your eyes stayed deadpan, giving nothing at all away like you hadn’t felt an emotion in your life.

“That was the problem, no? You got to know us too well, and then you went after us, like you did so many others. We just can’t let that stand, Y/N. And we put a plan in place to put an end to it, but your fucking team had to screw that up too.”

He stood and walked around, giving you a wide berth and facing the Avengers.

“Usually she’s a last resort, I get that. She enjoys it a little too much, you know? Likes the carnage, gets off on all the blood and bone-crushing,” he said, waving his gun again. “She had to reign it in when let loose. I can admire that myself. But c’mon guys.”

The man gave a disapproving look to the team, making sure to catch everyone’s eye.

“She was supposed to be the expert at Hydra. She was supposed to lead this mission. We put everything in place here, all she had to do was show up. But no, you guys had to keep her behind, again and again. So we came to you instead.”

“So you’re Hydra,” Steve said, keeping his rage in check somewhat.

“No. But partnering with them I suppose," he said with a shrug. "It’s not a bad deal, as we’re both going to get what we want.”

He looked down at you, smiling with hungry, bright eyes. You met his gaze but didn’t react.

But the flame in Bucky’s chest burned somehow brighter and it took every ounce in him not to break this fucking glass and snap this guy’s fucking neck where he stood.

“And your name is?”

“Call me Frenz. Y/N would fill you in more about my sorted past and the dirty little things we’ve done together, but she’s a little busy.”

“So you get Y/N, and Hydra gets what?”

“Well, as I said, you screwed this up. So we’ve changed some key arrangements, let's say. This was supposed to be a two for one kinda of situation. We get revenge and they get a loose end neutralized.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Steve answered, chin and voice dropping.

Frenz gave a fake frown, feigning sadness.

“I think it is, Captain,” he said before motioning around the room. “See, there is one of your agents in here, up against twelve of mine. And your team is out there and useless, even if you weren’t outnumbered. This just isn’t going to be your day. Now, let’s get to the fun part.”

“Tony, I need options now,” Steve said tersely, watching the man turn back around towards you. Steve’s stalling while F.R.I.D.A.Y and Tony worked this out clearly wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Working on it,” Tony said from behind his Iron Man mask.

“Not good enough!” Steve whispered.

Bucky stood still, mind calculating through the possibilities. If he broke the glass, even if it only took one swing which wasn’t guaranteed, he wouldn’t be able to get to you in time. If he made it up to the floor above, down the hall, jumped down to the balcony and stormed in through the back, he wouldn’t be able to get you in time. If Steve’s shield and his arm hit near the same mark simultaneously, they might be able to break through. But Steve didn’t have his shield. And he wouldn’t be able to get you in time.

A thought bubbled up and burst in his head, making his chest tight and blistering fury course through his veins.

I won’t be able to get to you in time.

“Now,” the man rubbed his nose, squatting down with his back to the Avengers, facing you. “There are certain things that Hydra wants. So we’ll comply with some of that. Maybe not all. But there are certain things I want that we’re going to get to first. And your friends out there are going to watch. If they move, you die. If they try anything, you die. If you try anything, you die. So let’s just enjoy this, shall we?”

He stood, looking down at you and you looked up at him, not breaking eye contact. You wouldn’t appear weak to someone like him and look away in fear. You face him- all of them- head-on.

He walked around you, again smartly giving you a wide berth, before crouching again and looking to the Team.

“I’m going to fuck you, right here in front of all of your friends, and they are going to watch. Then, if you do a good job, I’ll kill you. If you don’t do a good job, if you struggle, or if you make any move against me, I’ll let every man here have you before I kill you. And trust me, you’ve seen the sick things they do in battle. You can imagine what kind stuff they’re into.”

The smallest emotion flashed in your eyes before dropping quickly away. Bucky’s heart plummeted to the floor and the heat in his veins cracked open and spilled to every corner of his body. He didn’t think, just reacted, hands flying up the glass. Instantly both Nat and Steve held his arms, trying to pull him back but they couldn’t tear him off. Words erupted from the back of his throat, deep and merciless.

“You fucking touch her and you are dead," Bucky threatened, the meaning and intensity of words resonating to his very core. “There won’t a hole deep enough for you to hide in.”

Bucky was not used to this.

Yes, a room full of trained professional killers. Yes, hostage situations. Yes, sick threats from sick men. None of this was particularly unusual for someone with his past.

But the problem hit him here like a bullet to the gut. In the last seventy years, he had not been in a situation like this where he actually cared for the person.

You had been there with Bucky, reminding him of better days with friends and warmth, showing him that the sum total of his life was not just the acts they made him commit. That he had been capable of small moments of joy at one time and that he maybe he could be a semblance of that person again. With no talk of even whether he deserved that or not. That he wasn’t a monster or killer with a weapon as an arm made especially for him to hurt people, that it wasn’t something to be feared. That he wasn’t something to be feared. That he could have someone with him who understood the brokenness that was inside him without having to voice it. That hadn’t cowered in fear from him. That for the first time ever someone- you, a stranger up until a few weeks ago- had melted into place in his life without effort or pain or awkwardness or even real realization until now. It had been little by little then all at once that you became a part of his life.

Emotionally this situation was all so foreign and so intense. The fire in his body burned him with it.

“Don’t think so, Soldier,” Frenz said, standing up and holstering his gun, walking to get in front of you. “She knew about us, but we didn’t even pop up on your radar, did we? No, I think you’ll find us hard to find.”

He said it almost dully like he had explained it a thousand times before.

Shit.

But it didn’t matter. Maybe Bucky railed against the fight now, but he would find them and use every torturous skill he had learned at Hydra. He would willingly cross a line he thought he wouldn’t cross again.

“Now, I remember they used to call you The Siren? Why don’t you sing a little song for me now, huh?" he teased, that hunger back in his eyes. "Let’s get the mood right in here.”

It took only a moment, but it happened with blinding speed.

You shot into action and moved to sweep the legs of the man in front of you who had stepped just a little too close, knocking him to the ground. You grabbed his head between your feet and wretched hard, snapping his neck in the middle of the room for all to see.

A split second before absolute chaos ensued, Bucky heard himself yell out a crackling “NO!”

You sprung into action, the sudden pile-on in your direction giving barely any space for the intruders to shoot, stab, or fight. You swung over someone’s back, grabbing the knife you found in the belt and cutting your restraints before your feet even hit the ground

“Tony, get us in there!” someone behind Bucky said, their voices falling away as his focus was solely on you.

You slashed the throat of the man next to you, using him a shield as you kicked out your legs, knocking out another man. You moved lightning fast and used everything possible to your advantage to dodge and shield yourself as you fought back against the barrage of men, bullets, and knives.

“Get me the fuck in there!”

Bullets sounded as you fired back, dogging beneath the couches only to shoot up and pull down another assailant, stabbing him in the stomach then heart, your arms and body moving at a blinding speed.

“My hammer will make quick work of this!” In the distance, walls sounded like they were breaking.

“No! This’ll get far worse if you break the glass, don’t!”

“Cap, your shield!” A whiz through the air before it practically slid on Steve’s arm.

“You’re fucking dead!” a man in the room sounded throwing down his gun in favour of a large knife.

You kicked out his knees, sent an elbow to his head, grabbed the gun, then shot him. You slid underneath the coffee table, jumping up to send the table flying into another assailant, knocking him down. The man in front of you got a knife to the groin, stomach, and throat before again you using him a shield against the onslaught of bullets.

Covered in blood as it sprayed down on your from the jugular of the man now at your feet, you flipped over the couch, feet kicking hard and knocked out the next man. You grabbed a small set of knives on a man’s thigh, throwing them through the air like lightning to hit to the two unconscious men you had knocked out in the course of the fight. In a flash you kicked up a gun and sunk two bullets in the head of the man at your feet. Just as someone came barreling from behind you, you threw the butt of the gun back into his face.

Another man came at you and you ran at him, but instead of meeting him head on you ducked down, dodging his fists and stabbed him in the thigh and stomach. As the other assailant came back for you he grabbed you from behind and you twisted to grab his neck and flipped him over, facing the team.

As the Team watched the man bent backwards in your arms, with a yell you wretched your arms up. An audible snap was heard as the man went limp, his neck broken by your arms with considerable effort. Bucky watched you, stunned as your eyes looked back to him, revealing nothing through your blood-drenched face.

Another man lunged at you but you rolled under him, grabbing a knife at his ankle and dug it deep into his leg and pulled it through his flesh up to his hip, blood pouring everywhere.

And then suddenly there was quiet. You stood crouched on the floor, facing the Team, chest heaving and eyes both dead and wild.

Instinctively you grabbed a gun, looking down through the scope as you crouched. Your left hand went up, fingers signing quickly.

“Two went out the balcony.” Bucky translated, voice strained and quiet, before speaking back to you. “Don’t follow them! Wait for us, Y/N. Please.”

But low and silent you crept through the room and over the carnage of the eleven slashed, shot, and now dead men. Within Bucky the heated fury shifted to a different kind of fire as his heart lurched in pain.

Voices again suddenly boomed, yelling and panicked and loud.

“Why the hell can’t he just hammer the fucking thing?!”

“Does structural integrity mean nothing to you?”

“Not compared to people lives, Tony!”

“I’m going up the next floor, I’ll drop down.”

“If they have a jet you best believe there are weapons there! We need to take them down now!”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., throw me a fucking bone here!”

Eventually, the door clicked opened and at once the Team was off towards that stairwell. Bucky took off fast, ignoring the slick blood underneath his boots as he sprinted to get to you.

When he arrived at the top, you were there, standing still, faced away from them. A gun hung loosely at your side and the black backdrop of the city framed you, not a star in the sky. The only movement was caused by the small enemy jet engines whirling air around you, making your hair whip around wildly.

At your feet were the two remaining intruders, bloodied and dead.

Silently you turned around. You still held your mask up, the one you had used to block out the man Frenz with eyes dead and face expressionless. The one you had kept on while fighting and killing those men. The one you used while you looked Bucky in the eye and snapped a man’s neck. The one you kept on while you left the Team, walked over the gore and horror your hands had caused to finish the job and kill two more that were fleeing.

As fast as the Team stepped forward, they now stepped back, except Bucky. You didn’t make any indication of hurt at that, you simply and slowly walked through the group back down to the room below.

“I’m… so sorry,” Tony muttered to you as you passed. But you made no notice that you heard.

“What do we… I mean what should we…”

But Bucky still wasn’t listening to anyone else. He followed you down the stairs and stopped at the bottom-most step, watching as you looked like you were assessing what you had done. Your eyes moved to each body, looking it up and down.

Bucky's eyes were on you and not the scene in front of him, his mouth tasting of bitter and dry ash. Hesitantly he put his hand up to touch your shoulder before putting it down again.

“Y/N…”  Again, Bucky hesitated before reaching his hand up again.

But before his skin touched yours, you moved through the red smeared room and out the now open door, leaving bloody footsteps in your wake and down the hall.

Bucky looked around the eerily quiet room, unable to pull up a feeling of disgust or horror at the scene. The fire that was burning still held on and all he could feel in that moment was crushing pain for you.

The thick silence did not last long as the voices of the Team tumbled down the stairs.

“… defense against thirteen people?”

“If this was her. You’re forgetting that. We just don’t know. Not anymore.”

“Focus here. The lounge is a swimming pool of blood right now, people. Back burner this shit.”

With that the Team filed down and one by one. Bucky watched them do their best to take in the situation. Thor grimaced, Natasha just looked pale, Steve looked heart-broken, and Tony looked sick.

“Where is she?” Steve asked Bucky quietly after a few moments.

But he turned around as footsteps padded softly down the hall, and to Bucky’s surprise, it was you. You hadn’t left to shower the blood that covered almost every inch of you, or breakdown, or leave the Tower altogether. You came back.

Towed in hand was a huge duffle bag that strained your arms. Picking the one small corner near the bathroom door that was blood-free, you set it down and unzipped the bag, contents filled to the brim. You grabbed several items including what looked like a clear tarp and slipped into the bathroom, emerging a few moments later.

You took hold of the nearest body, picking up the dead weight bridal style seemingly with ease like you did this often.

“Y/N, stop, you don’t–”

But a loud low thud with the scrunching of plastic sounded from the bathroom just after you walked in.

And so methodically, you began to clean up.

Moving bodies to the tub in the bathroom, after five were in you pulled out a small vial, a bottle of bleach it looked like, and a bucket from your bag. Filling it with the bleach, you pulled off the top with your teeth and emptied the purple vial of liquid into it. You splashed the contents over the bodies and instantly a sickening fizzle and popping sound erupted. The smell was deathly sweet, adding to the stench of the now quickly disintegrating bodies.

At one point Tony tired to interrupt, frantic and scattered.  

“Okay, this is enough–”

Bucky’s arm reached out and grabbed Tony’s wrist harshly before it could touch you.

“Let her do what she has too,” It came out like a threat.

“She needs… This is madness, Barnes. She needs help," Tony sputtered, that sick look on his face getting more frantic.

“I don’t think she’s accepting help right now,” Bucky grimaced. You acted like you hadn’t heard a word either had said.

Once all the bodies were sizzling and disintegrating, you continued with another bucket and another vial. You mix this one with water and splashed it liberally around the room.

In front of everyone's eyes, the blood began to move together in large pools then began to coagulate in large chunks before hardening into a dense, dark solid.

You splashed the liquid around the room in a circle and by the time you were back to where you started, the blood was solid. You poured the last of the liquid over you and snapped your jaw shut in pain for a moment, blood falling off you in blobs before hitting the ground solidified. You picked up every last piece around the room while the Team watched.

You took a moment and put every piece of furniture back into place. You went back into the bathroom to remove and fold the tarp. You tied up the garbage bag of solid blood. You packed everything up back into the duffel bag.

You were concise and calculating and methodical. Like you had done this a thousand times before.

All while you stayed silent, mask still in place.

_______

Several hours later Bucky was woken by a frantic voice, interrupting his just established, uneasy sleep. He knew before getting into bed that he was doomed to have a nightmare but that had hardly seemed important.

Immediately he pulled his arms in tighter, expecting to find your warm body. But tonight you were absent from his bed, and an ache rain through Bucky as that night came storming back.

“She’s gone! Buck, I can’t find her,” Steve said, a shadowy outline at the end of the bed, breathing heavy.

Bucky sprung out of bed and instantly into action, heading out the door without thinking or even pulling on a shirt. He knew it was you. “Where have you looked?”

“Everywhere Buck.”

After a few moments once they entered the elevator, Bucky paused and looked Steve. “Why were you looking?”

“I couldn’t sleep”, he looked down, weariness lining his face. After spending time securing the Tower or worrying about Y/N, there was no doubt everyone was having trouble sleeping tonight. “I needed to see that she was okay. With her nightmares…”

But Bucky knew better than Steve. He tried to keep down the heat that flooded his chest. 

Bucky had checked on you, Steve didn’t need too. He had walked with you, a barely-there touch on the small of your back leading you down and safely back to your room. He debated going in, he debated asking if you wanted to stay with him instead. But he simply said a goodnight and you hadn’t responded, only closed the door with that dead look in your eyes.

But it should have been Bucky to notice you were gone. Why hadn’t he checked on you again later to make sure you were asleep? Why didn’t he just stay outside your door, just in case?

But now as the two men enter your room, they found it empty, just as Steve said it would be. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing misplaced, no sign of foul play.

“Training room,” Bucky said whipping around and running down the hall, Steve in tow.

“I’ve already been,” But Bucky needed to see it himself.

Empty. Bucky turned on every light and there wasn’t any sign of you there or that you had been there that night. No long sleeve shirt or water bottle on the bench, no weights out of place, no subtle sway of Steve’s punching bag. No signs of foul play.

“Goddamn it!” Bucky yelled, fury bubbling as he ran out of the room.

Where were you?!

His next thought was the lounge, though you had no reason to go back there. Bucky’s stomach swayed with nausea as they got to the glass wall, trying not to picture you bound on the floor again with him locked out on the other side, unable to do anything.

But the door was propped open, having been done so by Tony earlier in almost an apology for his damned tech and stupid fucking walls having kept them out.

Bucky scanned the dark room but saw nothing. No movement, no sign of you, no sign of foul play.

“No matter where the fuck she is this world, I will find her and kill whoever took her,” Bucky spewed out into the empty room, almost shaking with determination.

“She has to be in the Tower, Bucky. There was no security entry for anyone leaving the building, she’s here I know it.”

“Like I would trust the fucking security system," Bucky spat, storming towards the exit.

Bucky sped back through the room, ready to scour every fucking inch of this place himself, before the bathroom handle caught his eye. He bee-lined for it, debating on kicking down the door before deciding just to turn the handle.

He walked inside, the astringent smell of that sweet cleaner assaulting his nose. It was quickly followed by his heart sinking.

Across the dark, small room he saw on the side of the bathtub the shadowy top of your head and the tips of your fingers leaning against its white side.

“No,” he whispered silently.

_______

PART FIVE

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[archivingspn]

Variety: “‘Supernatural’s’ Shoshannah Stern on Eileen’s Time in Hell and Her New Relationship With Sam“

(...) Many characters come back from the dead on “Supernatural,” but the way Eileen came back was with a little bit of rewriting the lore that had been established seasons earlier. What were the conversations like between you and the writers about why Eileen was able to receive that special treatment?

I’ve always wanted to come back to the show, but the more I learned about the lore the more it seemed like that in Eileen’s particular case, she’d probably have to stay dead. So even when I found out I was coming back, I didn’t know why or how for a while. I thought that it was going to be a one-off thing, like a flashback of some sort, but I was down for that. Eileen means so much to me that I was just like, “I’ll take whatever I get.” Then I did a panel at Comic Con last summer and saw Robert Berens in the audience. I love him as a writer and follow him on social media, but I’d never had the actual opportunity to meet him until then. He’s just so open and warm and welcoming, and we immediately had the best, most profound conversation about Eileen that floored me because of how much thought he’d clearly put into all that. And then he was all, “So they’re announcing your return this weekend! And also what Eileen gets to do is going to be so cool!” I was like, “Wait… what?” So that’s really how I found out. I always offer up myself as a resource every time I do something because collaboration is my favorite thing about what I do. With that said, each writer is different when it comes to that, so it’s always a very fluid thing. It just happened that Meredith Glynn wrote that first episode, and the collaboration we built together out of that has become a friendship. With that said, I think I have a built in self-protection mechanism in that I kind of refuse to let myself realize the magnitude of things I do until after I’m done. I’m also not super fluent in the lore that comes along with it, because it’s super-smart and probably too advanced for me. So while I can now recognize that the way Eileen came back was really special, I don’t think I allowed myself to while I was actually doing it. I think it’s a testament to Robbie Thompson’s legacy because he created the character of Eileen. Because of how he molded her, they were determined to have her come back somehow, even in a way that’s never happened on the show before. And that’s pretty cool. (...) What is it about Sam that Eileen is connecting to at this point in her life/story?

I think one thing they have in common, and there’s a lot there, is that they give without any real agenda. But I think the significance of him bringing her back probably isn’t lost on either of them. This spell works only once, and so Sam really could have brought anyone back, but he chose Eileen. Yes, he’s a good person, but he’s also a strong person that stands up for what’s right. I don’t think he would have had any problem saying, “Sorry Eileen, but I can’t use this spell on you” if it wasn’t the right thing for either of them. But he didn’t hesitate. Because of that I think it kind of shows that even though their connection was brief, it was significant. Now that Eileen’s gotten a second chance, especially considering that Sam was the one to give it to her, I think she’s become fearless in potentially exploring that connection. I think it’s probably one that she reflected on quite a bit when she was in hell. I think that’s why it was especially meaningful for her to find out that Sam has also been there, because he understands better than maybe anyone else where she is at this place in time.

When Eileen is paired with Sam, do you consider her a good balance/counterpoint to him? Or do they make a good team because of their similarities?

Their origin stories are basically the same. I’ve never verified this with Robbie, but I’ve always felt that Eileen was written as a mirror image of Sam. The audience was first introduced to Sam as a baby, way back in the first episode with his mother burning on the ceiling, in the same way that Eileen was introduced in “Into the Mystic.” They both have or have wanted to study law and get out of hunting, they both hunted down the monster that killed their parent and found it lacking. They’ve died, gone to hell, and come back. Character wise, they both have this stubborn sense of morality they cling to, and are fiercely loyal. But I also think that Eileen, being more newly reborn, has a bit more hope at the moment that maybe Sam has, but because of that I think she may be making him feel a bit lighter. And I think one major difference between them is that while Eileen has always been alone, Sam has always had Dean. I think that’s why Sam feels more comfortable being a bit more unsure of things. Sam might be the most important person Eileen’s ever had in her life, and that’s a lot of responsibility to place on someone. So while I like this new and refreshing free-spirited side of her, I think Eileen should probably do what Sam is doing now and evaluate her new lot in life a bit more. (...) It feels like the way Eileen walked away from Sam and Dean (Jensen Ackles) in “The Trap” can’t be the end to her story. Would you be happy with it if it was the last time we saw her in this run of the show?

It doesn’t feel like it’s the end to her story to me either. Even so, that bit wasn’t easy to film because it was the last thing I had to do. I knew I’d be leaving for a bit, at the same time that Eileen was. So it was weirdly serendipitous, and we kind of kept tearing up even when the camera wasn’t rolling. But with this being the last season, it’s kind of always the last of something on set so the value of things are heightened in a way that forces you to stay present and appreciate all that’s in front of you in the moment. I had a project waiting for me in L.A. that I needed to start pretty immediately, but they were kind enough to remain very flexible just so I could accommodate my schedule with the show. A lot of that is because they know how important it is to me, and that commitment isn’t going to change from my end. You’re only sad if things mean something to you, so there’d be so much gratitude prompting that sadness whenever her story actually does end. But no. I refuse to believe that what we saw is the end of her story just yet. (...) What do you hope Eileen’s legacy is after the show ends?

This show is such an important part of so many people’s lives. When I did my first — and only — convention, I was amazed at how many people turned out for Eileen. But I realized that the way the Winchesters live their lives are kind of analogous to people who have disabilities, whether they’re invisible or visible, because the surface of what their lives seem to be doesn’t necessarily match how it actually is. They have this thing that makes them different than what the world perceives as normal, and so they therefore require a hidden network of people who understand that life. I think might be one reason why Eileen had that sort of impact on the fanbase. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a deaf person kick ass the way that Eileen does and I’ve certainly never played that before. Deaf or disabled people are usually the victim, not the one who rescues. The fact that she is such a viable love interest is not insignificant either. So many times people don’t see people with disabilities as feasible relationship material. Because of that they’re often desexualized and written off, especially in that particular sort of way, but it’s something that is so central to the human experience, and it’s something that people deserve to have if they’re so inclined. And so the fact that the main character of the show is interested in a deaf woman in that way is something that I believe is the opposite of reductive. It’s enhancing, not just for the a character, but for young people with disabilities in the audience. I hope they see themselves the way that Sam sees Eileen and realize that they can, should, and will be seen that way by people that are important to them and to the world, because that carries an inordinate amount of weight. (...)

[source]

[mcollawn]

MarsCon 2020 Convention Review

MarsCon is a convention that occurred in Williamsburg Doubletree by Hilton Hotel and happened between January 17th to 19th. It is a weekend fun party where Sci-Fi and Fantasy are the main focus of the theme. When they say a weekend party, they are telling the truth for so many events and attractions you had to selectively choose what you desired to do. Their mascot is Marso the Martian and as a mascot, the person really fitted the role for sure. Whether you were doing cosplay, seeking deals in the market areas, enjoying music, playing games, joining your favorite panels, or even volunteering this convention had it all for those wanting these things and more. I, on the other hand, I wanted the status of volunteer and help out at MarsCon.

Boy, the first day was busy for me at least when after I ate breakfast at Doubletree. My shift began at 10 am but 9:30 soon became the time instead of 10. I ventured down to the dealer’s room where I was greeted by Jennifer, who the leader of that area, and sent me right away to assist the other vendors. Specifically, I was assigned a couple who had books galore in their booth. I did not mine by unloading cases of books on a Dolley and bring them inside to sort through and organize on tables. If you think that just unloading was a sole job then you were gravely mistaken. After the loading dock, the couple also me to organize books by the author’s last name and man they were at least 26 cases for every letter of the alphabet. I even put a bookshelf together and for all of my efforts, they insisted on me to choose a book. The book was Sympathy for the Devil by Holly Lisle where a woman asks for amnesty from the underworld and she literally gets what she wants with the devil himself seeking her out personally.

An hour passed in the dealer’s room and at that time the vendors that were there were all set up. I went to the section supervisor and she sent me to go to the Con Suite. Apparently, Con Suite is the area for MarsCon attendees could go and get food throughout the convention. My first task was to blow up the inflatable trays for the salad bar. Funny thing, I was getting nowhere trying to put air in this plug that was similar to a beach ball. I did not succeed until one of the staff showed me a method of putting your teeth on the plug and then blow which made it so much easier. I washed a drink container in the men’s bathroom which was lots of fun and then proceed to dump old ice in coolers. There were a total of two coolers where ice was necessary and one of them had cheese beginning to defrost so the fridge was the immediate place to put them. Also, I helped a third staff member to get food out of the car and bring it into the building.

After Con Suite, I stumbled across the Art Gallery with aid from the volunteer coordinator, Addie. The art gallery had many grid-like panels for artists to hang and hopefully sell their art pieces. There were wood carvings, paintings, sketches, jewelry, and other creative works all ready for sale to the convention goers to buy in an auction format. My job was to hang signs of the artist who had that space and so for every two panels I put their name. This would help those to distinguish what spaces they had and which spaces belonged to someone else.

I would get to know two artists one by seeing their art and knowing them that way and one in person directly. Theresa Mather had a booth where I set it up based on her diagram to place her art according to numbers on the sheet. While I was setting up, I kept staring at one of the dragons she had and this one was 50 Shades of Green. Mather’s art has a certain element to it where she puts a joke in the drawings and 50 Shades of Green was one of them. I bought this piece for its constant mentions of books in the background like Bad Fiction, MeloDrama, and alt course the green dragon reading a book. In this section, I soon met the Guest of Honor Charles Urbach who has countless works in books, game covers, and other visual art projects. He combines a very traditional pencil and coloring to the visual art software on the computer to deliver covers from the Magic the Gathering series to Star Wars and many others. I thought it was very cool that he said: “For anyone to be successful in any creative field, they need to be stubborn and keep doing their content regardless of what the world thinks.”

For the rest of the convention, I would not have any specific volunteer positions but in programming. Basically, programming is a volunteer who goes in a panel and reports on the outcome of the panel. I was responsible for writing the number of attendees, when it started and ended, the panel name, panelists on the panel, did they stay on topic, and most importantly a brief description of went well or other general notes. Not only was I enjoying the panels but I was a volunteer at the same time. Addie, the volunteer coordinator, told me to have fun and provide feedback on the panels that interested me on behalf of MarsCon. This opportunity taught me the importance of why panels or workshops are essential for a convention. More importantly, the people who are doing these panels are vendors, convention attendees, and special guests who all broaden a convention’s success like MarsCon.

The panels that I reviewed are as the following: Win, Lose, or Draw, RavenCon Meeting, The Future of Post-Apocalypse Fiction, Profesor Indiana Jones: Tenure Review, a trolling panel (Trolling, Trolling, Trolling), and Flair Bartending Sci-Fi Mocktails. The ones that stood out the most are Win, Lose, or Draw Indiana Jones, and the Flair Bartending panels. Win, Lose, or Draw was hosted by Kevin Fowler and it was actually a game all designed by him. In the game, we had two teams and those teams had to bid a time at 90 seconds or below to draw based on what they saw. A team could get points based guessing the drawing correctly (3 points), steal from the other team (2 points) and penalty points from the other team getting it wrong (1 point). Indiana Jones panel was a panel about the tenure review of Indiana Jones teaching at a college. The panel was hosted by Some Nerds who have a Podcast and was a skit routine of a famous fictional archaeologist teaching an archaeology class. It was supposed to be funny in terms of Indiana Jones not having the professional skill set to be a professor like spending the college’s on exotic business trips and showing up with hard to believe stories about his journeys without such artifacts he went there for. Flair Bartending was mocktail demonstrations by Alexis and her son, William. They showed demonstrated mocktails like Shirley Temple, Roy Rogers, and a recent online favorite of Baby Yoda. There were five mocktails in total and was a family-friendly activity with nonalcohol mixing of drinks. j In conclusion, I learned that a convention can have ties to a party theme and generally a good time overall. I personally liked getting an experience that was more volunteer-based where the enjoyment was beyond the original assumption. I met people and formed connections that I could later use. Probably, my most favorite part was speaking to Mike Pederson and somehow being part of their convention planning for RavenCon. I went to their RavenCon Meeting and got lots of information about their convention. RavenCon and MarsCon at least this year are rival conventions in the scopes of them both being in the same hotel at Doubletree. I am ready to be put through the wringer according to the other RavenCon staff as Mike’s assistant. I feel that MarsCon 2020 went without a hitch and then some this year. It is definitely worth the shot to go back next year and many more years down the road.

https://i.imgur.com/mcrDTUf.jpg

[gaiatheorist]

Flailing.

Internally, I’m flailing, I’m not doing it physically, because it’s half five in the morning, and I’ll probably knock something over.

This is me trying to put things into perspective, and formulate a more sensible plan than ‘Get a job, quickly.’

I sent the ‘Work Capability Assessment’ form back, then acquired a copy of the psychiatrist’s letter, confirming the Complex PTSD, and stating traits-consistent-with-ASD. (Effective use of puppy-dog eyes on my GP.) I sent my monthly reminder to my Work Coach, that the ‘Housing Element’ on my Universal Credit was wrong again. I posted a copy of my Council Tax bill to the job centre, showing the account in my name only, with my ‘single occupant discount’, then the ‘student’ discount for my son being changed to ‘Council Tax Support- Work age scheme’ He’s listed as ‘work age scheme’ because he’s not working, not earning, not contributing, I’m listed as ‘work age scheme’ because of the low income that Universal Credit provides. Every month, UC computers calculate my rent as if my ex is paying half of it, ‘there are two people listed on your tenancy agreement, we have calculated that your share of the rent is...’ I sent a covering letter with the Council Tax bill, giving the ex’s address so they could confirm that he doesn’t live here. I’m ever so helpful, I gave them his National Insurance number as well, on the original benefit claim, it took the woman from the ‘Housing Department’ about 30 seconds to cross-reference his NI number with HMRC. 

I vaguely remember the woman who phoned to verify my details after the PIP tribunal saying my ‘award is no-review’, and then that I should ask for renewal forms no later than  14 weeks before the award expires next March. That would be the start of December, but, Christmas post, and places being closed over the Christmas period... I am meticulous, it’s part of my ASD. I phoned the number for PIP queries, navigated the billions of options on the automated message, and was eventually connected to a man called Dave, at three minutes past ten. ‘Oh, yeah, we usually send the forms about six months before the expiry date.’ ‘I have not received any forms.’ ‘Yeah, I said ‘’usually’’, yours was an appeal, wasn’t it?’ ‘Yes, the award was via tribunal.’ ‘Yeah, that’s not us, that’s HMCTS, I don’t know why we don’t send them,’ Let. That. Sink. In. People who have already suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous assessors aren’t sent renewal forms. If I wasn’t so meticulous, I might have just waited until half-past December, and, when the forms didn’t appear, I would have been timed-out. ‘Phone this number, it’s only about a ten minute call.’ 

The number was ‘for new claims’, so I hung up the first time, and then re-dialled, and explained to the girl who answered that it was a renewal, not a new claim. I remember reading somewhere that the ‘renewal’ form is different to the initial application, it asks whether each descriptor category is better/worse/the same. If she’s sent a new claim form, I’m going to be angry.  

The original award was for three years, the tribunal panel recognised that my brain injuries are permanent, and accepted my reasoning that I needed a period of support to secure medical intervention for mental and physical issues. There was a slight altercation between myself and the doctor on the panel, with him stating that only conditions that had arisen since the date of my application could be considered, I countered that the brain injuries had exacerbated some of the pre-existing mental health issues, and made some of the pre-existing physical issues more difficult to cope with, he repeated the rule to me, and I lost my temper, frontal lobe brain injury, I lose my temper a lot. ‘Fine, fine, you stick to your script’ isn’t a very polite thing to say to a doctor. My ‘date of application’ was March 15th 2017, the ridiculous way the system works meant I did have a lump-sum payment in August 2018, most of which was used to repay arrears on my utilities, some of which was used to replace or repair household goods, you know, to help with my disabilities. (Yes, I know I didn’t ‘need’ tickets to see Tim Minchin, but the system had chewed me up and spat me out, I wanted something for ‘me’.) The ‘backdating’ meant that I had 19 months of a three-year award to access interventions. In the NHS. Much like the students I used to mentor, as soon as you’ve dealt with the initial reason for intervention, it becomes apparent that there’s a deeper, underlying historical or complicating factor that also needs addressing.

I’m not ‘all better now’, I’m still on the first phase of the medication the Neurologist wanted to try, and I need to chase up my review appointment. I’d been confused by various assessors and such asking me ‘What have Neuro said?’ I hadn’t realised that they meant Neurology, not Neuro-surgery or Neuro-psych, so my response was usually ‘They basically said I was lucky to have survived, and that I should just get on with it.’ That won’t have helped my case. Neurology, when I was eventually referred, diagnosed ‘Chronic Migraine’ as well as ‘daily headaches’ and ‘vertigo’, their ‘angle’ on me is the pain, not any of the other issues I’ve had since the brain haemorrhage. I’d already done the ‘initial’ Mental Health intervention, IAPT talking therapy is enough for some people, it wasn’t enough for me, and, during the 17 months between the PIP application and the tribunal decision, I’d been buffeted from pillar to post within the NHS, with Mental Health saying my issues were related to the brain injuries, and Neuro-psych saying my issues were related to the migraine and the pre-existing PTSD and anxiety/depression. (SURPRISE, it was Autism all along, with side-orders of life-stuff, and brain damage.) I completed the next-level Mental Health therapy, because that’s the only way, other than being sectioned, that you can access more intensive/appropriate therapy. Then I completed the next tier, and I’m still not ‘done’ the advice is to complete ‘Emotional Coping Skills’ and ‘Compassion’ courses, I’m waiting for dates. I’m also waiting for a date for the specialised Neurodevelopmental Service, to formally confirm the Autism, and point me in the direction of support/intervention.

I know I’m whining, I know that ‘worse things happen at sea’ and all that jazz. I have a roof over my head, and my Significant Incident Planning means I have a couple of months worth of food stockpiled. I also have candles all around the house, and spare blankets and duvets, in case my gas and electricity are cut off. I’m overwhelmed, between the physical presence of my son meaning I frequently have to take myself to bed to avoid arguments, the Work Capability Assessment, the PIP renewal, the OU course, and generally ‘being me’, I’m incredibly fragile. 

I’m flailing, I’m too stubborn to sink, but, Gods, I’m tired.