#hydra physiology

[collaredsoldat]

Gentle Hand.

summary: Soldat has a panic attack.

warnings: Post!HYDRA Winter Soldier | Post!HTP and abuse | PTSD symptoms & behavior | Panic attacks | Brief medical treatments | Flashbacks of HTP | Past dehumanization | Brief mention of SA

a/n: This was supposed to be posted before the other one I just posted, but I got impatient lol. So it might sound a little out of order, once I have all these parts out I'll put them in order. He's getting through it, you're being patient. Unedited. ;; wc: 3.4k

There were a lot of complicated things with Soldat.

Significant complications with his health, for starters, which caught you off guard given his status as a super soldier. You had initially assumed that his enhanced physiology would grant him a far greater resilience compared to an ordinary human, as had been proven with the likes of Steve Rogers. However, the treatment from HYDRA had somehow managed to infiltrate his system so profoundly and extensively that it had wreaked havoc on his entire physiological makeup, leaving him in a severely compromised state.

The issue of malnourishment was addressed through a carefully planned regimen of intravenous treatments, much to Soldat’s dislike. This approach was complemented by a gradual reintroduction to solid foods, a process that required meticulous attention and patience. The goal was to slowly accustom his system to regular nutrient intake without overwhelming his weakened digestive tract. Not to mention the fact that Soldat often refused food or that his body simply could not handle it, even in small amounts.

Honestly, re-feeding him was a whole other problem you had to tackle.

A similar strategy was employed to combat his severe dehydration and restore proper fluid balance. You also noticed that he experienced significant difficulty in swallowing, a symptom that hinted at potential damage to his esophageal tract or neurological complications affecting his ability to consume liquids normally.

Then, there were the myriad of wounds that covered his body. Stubborn injuries that had been persisting for a duration that far exceeded your initial expectations and caused you considerable worry. You found a small measure of solace in the fact that the majority of these injuries, while numerous, consisted primarily of superficial cuts and bruising.

Treating these wounds was far from easy. His behavior during treatment sessions mirrored a cornered wild animal, skittish and unpredictable, making each attempt at care a delicate and often extremely stressful. You didn’t want to stress him any further than he probably was in a stranger’s home, with a stranger, but you needed to at the very least keep the wounds from bleeding everywhere.

He lashed out at you with his metal arm, swinging wildly without any real force behind it. You could instantly discern that his actions were driven by sheer terror rather than malice. His eyes were wide with panic, darting frantically around the room, and it was evident that he wasn't actively trying to cause you harm. As you approached with the antiseptic and gauze, he bared his teeth in a defensive snarl and let out a feral hiss, his metal arm swinging once more in a desperate attempt to keep you at bay.

He had backed himself into the corner of your bathroom, the face he couldn’t go anywhere was frightening him just as much as you were. "Easy there, Soldat," you murmured, your voice steady and reassuring. "You're not scaring me. These wounds need to be cleaned and treated." Your words were calm and gentle, but they seemed to do little to soothe his frayed nerves.

In another display of agitation, he swung his arm downward, connecting with your tile floor. The impact was forceful enough to shatter the tiles into several jagged pieces, the sound of breaking ceramic echoing through the room. He fixed you with a glare that was clearly meant to be intimidating, but you could see right through it. His expression was a forced mask of hatred, a poor attempt at appearing dangerous. He was trying so hard to maintain this façade of aggression, but his fear was as obviously visible beneath the surface.

"Listen, Soldat," you said, your voice taking on a firmer yet still compassionate tone. "If you really wanted to harm me, we both know you would have done so by now. Your behavior isn't fooling either of us." You gestured to his injuries, your expression softening. "Now, please, let me tend to these wounds. If we don't bandage them soon, you're going to end up bleeding all over the place. That can't be comfortable for you. And I would really appreciate it if you didn't stain my carpet..."

His face held a stubborn, forced scowl, but also an undeniable air of resignation. He relaxed at your approach, albeit marginally, allowing you to come closer. Sharp, audible breaths exited his nostrils in rapid succession, betraying his lingering apprehension. You knew he was tense so you offered reassurance, "You're alright, I promise this won't hurt. We just need to take care of these."

Your words seemed to have enough of a calming effect as you carefully began tending to him, finally able to assess and treat his injuries. As the moments passed and he realized your true intentions were solely to help, not harm, his demeanor shifted. He became increasingly receptive to your ministrations as each cleaning session came, and he allowed you to clean his wounds and change his gauze without resistance.

But there was one thing you couldn't help but notice, and it was perhaps the biggest hurdle of them all. An almost violent aversion to certain actions and decisions.

To the outside eye, they appeared completely random, and they did to you too. At first.

Soldat refrained from doing anything, no matter how mundane, without first seeking your explicit permission. Something as simple as taking a seat or reaching for a glass of water seemed to require your approval.

At first this behavior confused you, but as you observed him more closely, you started to understand a little but more. HYDRA, while you knew very little of his experiences, did a number on his psyche. He was grappling with intense internal struggles, and in an attempt to cope with his sudden freedom, he was projecting his deep-seated need for structure and guidance onto you. By relinquishing control over even the most basic decisions, he seemed to find a semblance of comfort and stability.

This realization left you with mixed emotions.

On one hand, you felt a twinge of discomfort at being thrust into this unexpected role of authority. The weight of his dependence on your decisions was not something you had anticipated or necessarily desired.

Yet, on the other hand, you couldn't deny the visible relief and calm that washed over him when operating within these self-imposed boundaries. Witnessing how this dynamic seemed to provide him with a sense of security and ease, you found yourself reluctantly gave into.

Despite your internal reservations, you knew that this arrangement was serving as a crucial coping mechanism for him during what was clearly a difficult time, even if it had begun from something awful. So, setting aside your own discomfort, you made the conscious decision to lean into this role, at least for now.

Your primary concern was his well-being, and if this is what he needed to feel safe and begin healing, then you were willing to adapt and provide that structure for him.

His comfort level around you was noticeably increasing with each passing day. Gradually, he began to emerge from the bedroom where he had initially isolated himself, seeking out your company in subtle ways.

Your presence seemed to have a calming effect on him, acting as a source of reassurance in his new environment. He made a conscious effort to be in the same room as you, his actions betraying a growing desire for proximity.

He maintained a considerable distance for a while, positioning himself at the far end of whatever space you occupied. He often watched you, or sometimes he’d allow himself to nap, he never spoke. You chose to ignore him most of the time, not wanting to give him too much attention and spook him away.

Time progressed and you noticed a slow but steady shift in his behavior. Like a cautious animal gradually acclimating to a new habitat, he inched closer to you day by day. He continued his gradual migration until he finally felt secure enough to position himself right beside you.

One particularly lazy afternoon, he slowly made his way towards you, his steps heavy with hesitation. Upon reaching the living area, he carefully lowered himself onto the floor adjacent to the couch, his eyes fixed downward on the carpet. Eventually, his gaze lifted, settling on the television screen. He watched the program you had selected, you couldn't help but notice a glimmer of curiosity dancing behind his eyes, his engagement slowly growing with his surroundings.

You had tried many different offers and encouragement, but he refused to make use of any furniture in the house. The comfortable couch remained untouched by him, and the inviting bed you prepared for him went unused night after night. He had ripped the blankets off and curled up on the floor instead.

His reluctance to using the couch and the bed made you start to think. Had he been conditioned to believe that he wasn't allowed to use something as basic as furniture?

You remained silent, not uttering a single word as you observed him sitting there, seemingly without any discomfort. After a moment of hesitation, you decided to break the silence. "You know, you're more than welcome to sit up here with me," you suggested, your voice soft and kind. His head lifted ever so slightly in response to your words, his eyes glancing at you from under the bits of hair that fell over his face.

The soldier's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of doubt and confusion. His frown deepened, etching lines across his forehead as if your words were spoken in a foreign tongue he couldn't quite decipher. You gently patted the empty cushion to your left, emphasizing your point. "Really, you can sit up here if you'd like," you reiterated, your tone warm and encouraging, hoping to dispel any lingering uncertainty he might have.

Several minutes pass and he doesn't budge.

You decide to just let him sit there if he wants to, observing his actions without comment. You didn't want to make him do something he didn't want to do anyway. So you turned your attention back to the show playing on the screen, watching she shitty adult cartoon full of jokes and clichés. But you had to admit, it was pretty funny. You felt something beside you, the subtle shift in the couch's cushions as his silver prosthetic makes contact. The furniture dips ever so slightly as the soldier cautiously lowers himself onto it.

His movements are painfully slow and deliberate, as if he's treading on eggshells, anticipating that you might suddenly change your mind or lash out at him at any moment. When he finally settles, his posture is noticeably stiff and unnatural, not to mention his obvious aversion to sitting flat on his ass like a normal person. His wounds and injuries were brutal, and you knew he didn't like to sit often. But right now it seemed like he was forcing himself to do so.

The discomfort radiates from him, filling the air with tension. He sits ramrod straight, muscles visibly taut beneath his clothing, and his eyes are wider than you've ever seen them, pupils dilated and darting around the room. It's as if he's desperately searching for potential threats or escape routes, his entire being on high alert. The sight reminds you of a cornered animal, teetering on the edge of fight-or-flight, barely containing the urge to bolt from the room at the slightest provocation.

"Soldat, it's alright. You're safe here. You can sit here, I said you could," you said in a gentle, reassuring tone, attempting to alleviate his visible anxiety. Your voice was recited soft and steady, hoping to create a calming atmosphere. Soldat still tensed up as you adjusted your position. His reaction was immediate and he recoiled as though anticipating a blow, his body language screaming of deep-seated fear.

His breathing became erratic, each inhale and exhale a struggle. His hands trembled and gripped the cushion with such force that the knuckles on his flesh hand turned white. It was clear he was desperately trying to maintain his composure in what he perceived as a threatening situation. The sight of his internal struggle tugged at your heart, you couldn’t believe something as simple as sitting on the couch could cause him to be this distressed.

‘Assets sit on the floor!’ A heavily armored combat boot collided with its nose, it heard a crack, felt the warmth of thick red ooze running down its face and throat, tasting the metallic flavored substance. The rusty tar. ‘Try to get up here again, and I will chain you up to that fucking stump outside. See if you can withstand below zero all night.���

Its handler really hated when it sat on the furniture. Used a bed. Used a chair. Its handler liked to threaten and hurt it.

He liked it to sit at his feet, like a good asset should. Be silent, be obedient, be subservient and pleasing for handler. Make sure he is satisfied and serviced well. Maybe then it will get to sleep? Maybe it would get a blanket tonight. Maybe it wouldn’t have to serve the team tonight.

Or not.

Concern etched across your features as you observed his distress. "I promise you, everything is okay," you reiterated, your voice laced with sincerity and compassion. However, as you shifted slightly to face him better, it became apparent that this small movement was what he had been unconsciously anticipating. The second you made that tiny little shift in the cushion, he leapt to his feet, his sudden movement causing him to stumble. His knee collided painfully with the coffee table, but he seemed oblivious to the impact.

Backing away from you, his eyes darted wildly around your apartment, resembling those of a cornered animal searching desperately for an escape route. There was panic in his gaze, his chest heaving with each rapid, shallow breath.

Unable to maintain his stance, he sank to his knees, his legs unable to support him any longer. His hands flew to his head, fingers entangling themselves in his long hair, gripping tightly as though trying to anchor himself to reality. His breathing had become so labored and quick that it appeared he was on the verge of hyperventilation, fighting for each breath as though he were drowning on dry land.

He cowered away from you as you approached him with worry, his body surrendering to you.

'Stupid fucking asset! Did they fry out all of your common sense, huh? I said NO sitting on the furniture!' Handler's voice thundered through the room, each word laced with venom and contempt. Its wet nose collided violently with his boot for the second time, the impact reverberating through its skull. A sharp, searing pain pushed into its face, and it wondered if a fragment of its broken nose had been forced inward.

Its handler seized a fistful of the asset's hair in a vicious grip and yanking, forcefully dragging it across the floor. The wooden planks, rough and splintered, scraped against its skin as it was hauled towards the dilapidated door of the safehouse. This ramshackle structure was their temporary refuge for the night, a necessary evil in the unforgiving Siberian wilderness. The biting cold of the subzero temperatures was a constant source of irritation for the American team, who were ill-equipped to handle such extreme conditions.

As its handler stepped outside, the asset felt the icy bite of a frozen chain wrapping around its neck. The metal was chilled to an impossible degree and seared its skin on contact. The unexpected pain elicited a cry of surprise and agony from the asset but it was cut short as the chain constricted, squeezing tightly and cutting off its air supply.

Panic set in as it gasped and clawed desperately at the unyielding metal, its lungs burning for oxygen. Just when unconsciousness threatened to overtake it, the pressure relented, allowing it to gulp in precious air once more. The asset's mind raced, recognizing the depth of its handler's fury in this brutal display.

Its handler secured the other end of the chain to an old tree stump barely visible through the snowbank. The makeshift anchor stood amidst piles of chopped wood, all buried under a thick blanket of freshly fallen snow. The wind howled mercilessly, its icy fingers clawing at both the asset and its handler. 'I'll come back in the morning,' he spat, the words barely audible over the roaring gale.

As its handler retreated indoors, the asset felt the blood on its face begin to crystallize, the crimson stream halting its flow as the subzero temperatures took hold. The relentless wind continued its assault, driving icy particles into every exposed inch of skin. With no other option available, the asset curled into itself, seeking what little warmth it could generate as it resigned itself to enduring the long, brutal hours of frozen misery until dawn.

At least it didn't have to service anyone tonight.

He remained motionless, neither pleading nor protesting.

Its handler hated when it begged most of the time. Sometimes he did like it, but it didn’t want to risk angering you by opening its mouth. No. It should only do that when its handler commands it. Otherwise, it was a whore.

In his mind, he braced for the inevitable feeling of your hand roughly grasping his hair, forcefully dragging him away to face some cruel punishment. How could he have the audacity? Sitting beside you on the couch, as if he dared to consider himself your equal.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly. After several long, dreary seconds that felt like an eternity, he summoned the courage to steal a glance at you. His eyes were partially obscured by strands of unkempt hair, peered out cautiously. His breathing remained ragged and uneven, though he made a conscious effort to quiet it.

Its handler preferred silence, after all.

This thought, ingrained deeply within him, only served to heighten his anxiety.

"Soldat, breathe... it's okay, you're safe here." Your voice broke through the silence, gentle and reassuring, though tinged with a noticeable tremor as you witnessed his breakdown. "It's okay. I'm here. No one else but me. You are safe." You repeated these words, emphasizing them as you carefully lowered yourself to the ground beside him.

The soldier’s hyperventilation persisted despite your gentle efforts to speak to him. You remained undeterred and continued to speak, hoping that somehow your words would penetrate the fog of fear surrounding him.

Or the thick snowbank slowly freezing its skin.

"Whatever you're seeing right now isn't real, it's in the past," you explained, your voice soft but steady. "You're here, in my apartment. It's just us. No one is going to hurt you." You inched closer, gradually closing the distance between you and his huddled, trembling form on the carpet. Your movements were slow as you consciously made the effort to be careful and not to startle him further.

He heard you, the absence of pain confused him, but it also provided some soothing to his pure panic. You were telling the truth.

You weren't going to hurt him.

Soldat's gaze met yours once more, his eyes filled with a profound sadness as he gradually descended from the heights of his attack. His breathing, still irregular and labored, came in erratic bursts, each sudden intake of air punctuated by a noticeable hitch. To your shock, he began to inch towards you, his movements hesitant yet deliberate.

Under his breath, he emitted soft whimpers, struggling valiantly to maintain his silence as he had been engrained to do. His entire form quivered violently, reminiscent of someone caught in the grip of an intense chill, and without warning, he allowed his weight to collapse against you, seeking solace in your presence.

A muffled sound escaped him, barely audible as it was absorbed by the fabric of your shirt. Your arms encircled his trembling frame, careful in case he didn’t want you to do so, but you felt no resistance. As he muffled, your ears pricked and you carefully leaned your head down a bit. Your cheek gently brushed his forehead, your mouth close to his ear. "What is it...you can tell me." You whispered, waiting for him to speak again.

Given the other times he had spoken, you braced yourself for Russian, but those concerns dissipated like morning mist when he finally found his voice and spoke. His words were simple, he murmured out again, the admission barely above a whisper and surprised you when they hit your ears.

"I'm cold."

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover images from Pinterest. I do not claim them as my own.

Taglist: @millercontracting | @teafangirl | @questionableratatouille00 | @buckybarneswife125 | @hazydespair | @leighta | @knoxic | @ghostlyfleur | @beckies000 | @seventeen-x | @freyjhasdesiredreality | @curlycow01

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[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 5112

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, enemas, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30s), omorashi

Series Masterlist if you've missed a chapter or need to re-read!

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty. Steve's the care worker who's been developing too much of an attachment.

Epilogue I.

Omegas don’t do well with change like this.

Moves tend to stress them out. To have all the things they cling to for safety and reassurance suddenly disappeared? replaced? Their den switched up, their nest taken away, nothing smelling or looking or feeling the same as what they’re used to? It’s distressing to them. It can throw them into bad moods at best, and mental health crises at worst. It isn’t logical and the poor things can’t control it, so their reactions can be confusing to people who aren’t familiar with omega behavioral patterns and physiology. 

Luckily, Steve knows all about such things, so he isn’t too shocked when Bucky has trouble with his moods after moving into the apartment and begins—among other things—compulsively stress-masturbating with whatever he can get his hands on.

“Honey, wait. Wait, wait, wait.” Steve hurries to shut the door and set down his armload of shopping bags, going over to wrestle away whatever it is Bucky’s trying to stuff up his posterior. He almost laughs when he sees that it’s a hairbrush. (In the kid’s defense, it does have a vaguely cylindrical, rubberized handle.)  “Bucky, give it to me,” he Voices, and takes it from the angrily whining omega. Yesterday, he’d had to break one of his mother’s cardinal rules and throw out food when he’d caught Bucky being violent with a vegetable.

“Nnn!”

Steve hushes him, pulling him into his arms and holding tightly. “Hey, stop. I’m here. I’m right here, ‘mega.”

Bucky stops fighting him and goes limp in his hold, changing from angry whines to a confused sob as he tucks his face into Steve’s neck and mouths over the skin. “Steve,” he moans, overwhelmed.

“Shhh. M’right here. You’re okay.” 

Against his neck, Bucky sniffles, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I tried, I tried to wait but I’m just so …” He makes a frustrated noise and grinds his face against Steve’s shoulder. “Mmrrr.”

Steve’s eyes track to the couch. There’s Bucky’s discarded sweatpants and his diaper. The nearest pillow, which Steve deduces he was recently humping, has a dark patch of slick on it. “Still feeling stressed?” he says, stroking Bucky’s back soothingly when the question elicits another whine. “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re allowed to touch yourself. But remember what we talked about? Safe ways?” He lets his hand trail down to Bucky’s butt, fingers delving gently between his cheeks to feel the slick there. “You need to be safe and not hurt yourself.”

Bucky nips him reactively. “I forgot,” he growls, then gasps in surprise when Steve pinches his asscheek. “Hey!”

“Don’t be mean. Your body’s just stressed. That’s why you’re feelin’ so emotional.”

He sniffles and hides against him. “But m’happy to be here.”

“I know you are, bub. Don’t worry. I know. And you know I’m so excited to have you here with me.” He kisses his hair. “We talked about this. Sometimes your body gets ahead of you. We’ve just gotta make you feel at home and real safe, then I promise you’ll feel better.” 

That’s why he just popped out to the store to grab a few things. He’d left Bucky snacks and blankets to snuggle with on the couch, but clearly that wasn’t what he felt like doing.

Against him, Bucky whines and starts humping his leg. “ ‘lpha,” he grumbles, embarrassed. He’s been acting upset and erratic since they came home yesterday. He’d cried when the confusing behavior started up, afraid that Steve would think he didn’t really want to be there, or that he didn’t want Steve as his alpha. Steve doesn’t think he’s heard someone call him ‘Alpha’ so many times in a twenty-four hour period in his life.

“That’s right, bub,” he reassures him with another tight squeeze. “I’m your Alpha. And you’re my good omega. Gonna make it official real soon.” 

The only reason he hasn’t, is because of the birth control injection that needs twenty-four hours to be fully effective. But Bucky doesn’t know that. He thinks the shot he received yesterday morning was just a mega-dose of vitamins. He has no idea that it’s something Steve quietly told Raynor to administer before they left the ward, something he wanted done for Bucky’s welfare. It’ll prevent pregnancy, just until they get situated, until they’re bonded and Steve can be sure that Bucky is properly settled in his new home.

Bucky hasn’t been told the truth because he won’t understand. He’ll instinctively take it as rejection, just like any omega would; a sign that Steve doesn’t think he's good enough, doesn’t want to breed him up. 

Which couldn’t be further from the truth! Steve can’t wait for the day when he’ll get to fill Bucky full to bursting, plug him up with his cum and watch his seed take root, watch the boy’s gorgeous body grow ripe and heavy with their pups. That’ll be a wonderful day, when it happens, but it isn’t happening now. Steve wants to give Bucky everything he���s missed out on in life so far, and that includes a happy, relaxed, and romantic period of child-free bliss with his new Alpha. Time where Bucky is the center of Steve’s attention with nothing to take away from it. There will be plenty of time for pups down the road��maybe even later that same year, who knows? But not right now. 

Yesterday had been tough. Steve had been hard pressed to find an excuse to give Bucky as to why they weren’t fucking each other’s brains out. He’d settled on half-truths, saying that he wanted Bucky to work on scenting the apartment and building up a spot for himself in the hallway nesting closet. He’d told Bucky that it would be healthier for him to settle in and calm down a little bit before they made love.

Luckily, Bucky hadn’t known enough to call bullshit on him, but Steve has still been grinding his teeth ever since they got home to the apartment twenty-seven hours ago, not able to fuck a claim into his omega for fear of getting him pregnant.

Now that he’s given it that little bit of extra time and can be sure that Bucky’s fertility is suppressed, Steve tells him that they can go back to the bedroom together, if he wants. Bucky mewls happily and nods, humping against him harder. “Steeve.”

Steve comforts him with a quick hug, and takes his hand. “Come on.” He leads his half naked omega back towards the bedroom. “I told you I’d be gone for less than an hour. You couldn’t wait?”

“No.” 

It’s such a firm and stubborn little ‘no’, that it makes Steve chuckle as he guides him to the bed. This is day number two in the apartment together, yesterday was a whirlwind of paperwork and transitions, of new and unfamiliar and figuring out. But today is real, and raw, and Steve hasn’t been completely soft since he woke up that morning and realized that today is the day he’s finally going to get to have Bucky. He’s finally going to get to fuck his omega—no, not fuck: make love to him. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Bucky in close, hands on his waist. “I know it’s a lot of change all at once. It’s okay to be sad, or scared, or even just confused about how you feel.” Bucky grunts and shakes his head, trying to pull away but relaxing when Steve’s hands hold fast. “Use your words, bub.”

“M’not sad,” he grunts, face pinched as he bashfully admits, “I just get nervous.”

“Nervous about what?” 

“Dunno. Just that maybe ..." He shrugs and won’t meet Steve’s eyes as he mumbles, "Maybe it’s too good to be true.”

Steve’s heart twinges painfully. “Oh, Honey. Don’t say that. It’s not. It’s not too good to be true. It’s real. You’re here with me, aren’t you?” His fingers slip under the fabric of Bucky’s tee shirt and caress the soft give of his waist. “You deserve good things, Buck. I’m so happy you’re mine now and I can show you that. None of this is any more than what you deserve, Sweet boy.”

“But how can you be sure you won’t, ya know, ... change your mind?”

Steve huffs and tugs him in closer, ignoring the little ‘oof’ of surprise that Bucky makes when his shins hit the mattress. “I’m sure,” he growls, needing to never hear that pitiful uncertainty in his omega’s voice ever again. “Bucky, Jesus. I’ve never been more sure of anything. I’m not gonna change my fucking mind.” He scoffs at the mere notion. “Baby, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to—” He cuts himself off from admitting something that he shouldn’t: the inappropriate truth. 

Which is that he’d been excited that year when Bucky finally aged up to C Hall, to sexual touch therapies that Steve hadn’t previously been allowed to provide him. Steve isn’t supposed to view his omega charges that way—like he’s attracted to them or interested in them as more than patients—but he’s realizing now that he had felt that way about Bucky, since before the boy came up to C hall, even. He’d just buried those feelings deep and convinced himself that they weren’t there. It’d been necessary, otherwise he would’ve been sick every time he had to watch Bucky’s shitty family show up and yank him back out of the sanatorium too soon. Hell, it was hard enough to watch it even with the shield of his own denial. Truth is, Steve’s felt an inexplicable draw to this kid ever since he’d very first been wheeled into Hydra, strapped down, crying, and lost.

Swallowing thickly, he changes what he was going to say to a quiet, “You don’t know how happy I was, when you said you wanted me to be the daddy,” instead, warming inside when Bucky’s eyes flit up to him in surprise. He smiles softly. “Yeah, I remember you said that.”

Bucky flushes beautifully and does an endearing little squirm. “Hmm.”

Steve chuckles. “See? You’re stuck with me.” It’s a promise more than anything else, and he feels the pleasured shiver that runs through Bucky’s body in reaction to it. “Gonna bond you, Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You want that?”

Bucky chirps, the instinctive sound making his cheeks color prettily. He glances down at himself, and Steve looks too. His little prick is fattened up, as hard as it’s ever really capable of getting. And his inner thighs are smeared with shiny slick that makes Steve’s cock throb and his balls feel heavy and full. He licks his lips, lightheaded at the possibilities of what he can do to Bucky now that the Sanatorium's rules and restrictions don’t apply to them anymore.

“Jesus,” he rasps, fighting not to give in to the urge to simply grab the boy and toss him up on the bed. Steve knows that, outside of whatever treatments he’s received on-ward, Bucky is very sexually inexperienced; a virgin. That’s why Steve has to do this right. You never forget your first time. “Bucky, Honey,” he says gently. “Do you think you’re ready to be with me?”

Steve’s a lot older than him, and leagues more experienced—in both sex, and life in general. That’s why, even though he’s got no doubt that the boy wants this, it’s still important to ask in the beginning, before things get too hot and heavy. Given that Bucky’s been humping the pillows and sexually abusing common household objects, Steve knows he can’t afford to wait any longer. Bucky needs this, needs to feel loved and safe and claimed, and the best that Steve can do for him is to give him the chance to say yes, to feel like he’s deciding on his own that this is the right choice. 

So he reaches up and palms the kid’s cheek, rumbling in approval when Bucky pushes into the contact with a plaintive sound. “Words, bubba,” he coaxes gently. “Tell me what you're thinking.”

Bucky mewls and presses closer, pushing against Steve and climbing up into his lap on the bed. Steve falls backwards and Bucky chirps happily and follows after him, already back to humping his stomach and eagerly yet gracelessly kissing his mouth. “Mm, hmmph, mmm —”

Steve laughs at his enthusiasm and groans at the feeling of the kid rubbing off on him, pushing Steve’s shirt up and smearing slick on his abs. Steve threads a hand into Bucky’s hair and pulls him back so that he can get up properly onto the bed. “Hang on, Honey. Just hang on a sec.” Bucky whines and chirps and generally makes himself into a very squirmy obstacle, but Steve is much stronger and leagues more coordinated than he is in his present condition, poor thing. He’s able to wrangle Bucky onto his back in the middle of the bed and get his shirt off of him—the only article of clothing he was left wearing, anyway.

“Ooh.” Bucky moans and writhes against the chenille blankets when he feels that softness against his naked skin. “Oh, Steeve.”

“Hang on one sec, Buck. M’right here. Not goin’ anywhere.” Steve gets back up on his knees and yanks his shirt overhead. He gets his belt loosened, his pants off, and tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, ready to shuck them as well. But he pauses and looks at Bucky when he hears the omega’s breath catch. 

Bucky is lying there with parted lips, a lax jaw, and prettily pinched eyebrows. His eyes are heated and heavy-lidded as he takes in Steve’s body. Steve smiles tenderly at him and starts to peel his underwear down, watching Bucky watch him, rapt. “What’s the most you’ve done with an alpha, Sweetheart?” he asks, putting a little bit of his Voice into the words to help make Bucky feel reassured. “Mm?”

Bucky licks his lips and stares as Steve’s cock is revealed to him. “An alpha …” he repeats dumbly. “I …” He exhales shakily as Steve tucks his underwear behind his balls and wraps a hand around the base of his shaft. “Oh, God.”

Steve waits, then asks the question again as he gives himself a squeeze and wrings his hand down to the head in one slow, indulgent stroke.

The scent of fresh slick hits the air, sharp and sweet, betraying Bucky’s growing arousal. “Just … um … just …” he breathes, rapt at the sight of Steve’s hand on his dick. “S’just you. At the hospital.”

Steve groans softly. He’d figured as much, but to hear Bucky say it out loud, that he’s a complete virgin except for the times that Steve has touched him, makes his belly flare with new heat and his cock pulse in his hand. “Yeah?” he encourages, letting go of himself so he can lower back down on top of Bucky. He uses a thigh to nudge the boy’s legs apart, making a space for himself in the cradle of his hips. Bucky whimpers and parts beautifully for it, pulling his knees up and tilting his pelvis to try and keep humping on him. Steve presses down obligingly, letting him rub his little prick against his lower abs. “No experimenting with friends?” he checks, because that’s not unheard of.

He won’t be bothered in the slightest if Bucky’s tried to scratch his itch by playing sexually with his omega peers on the ward. That sort of behavior is fairly common in group settings, especially in omegas who’re very stressed. The nesting pods in the sensory room back at Hydra, for instance, are a popular place where the omega patients will often pile up and rub on each other for comfort.

“Just me, huh?” Steve says fondly, when he can see that the answer is still a no. He smiles and cradles Bucky’s face in his hand, thumb stroking back and forth over his cheek. “You nervous?”

Bucky hesitates, but then he nods. “Just … just ‘cause it’s so private,” he says, blushing. “Because m’not used to it. But I’m not scared, I promise.” He bites his lip, eyes flitting over Steve’s face like he’s working up the nerve to admit something else. “I’m glad it’s you,” he says, smiling a little, nervous and honest. “I’m glad it’s all been with you.” 

Jesus. Steve’s whole chest feels full and warm, like bathwater about to overflow, and he doesn’t think twice before saying, “I love you, Bucky.” He nods along as Bucky chirps and his eyes water happily. “Yeah. I do.”

“Steve.” 

Bucky starts to cry, and it hurts Steve to see it, to think of how long it’s been since any person has told him that he’s loved. So he repeats it a few times more, dipping in to kiss lightly at the boy’s lax, plush mouth. “I love you, ‘mega. Love you. Love you.”

“Steve, oh.”

“Want to make love to you,” he murmurs against his cheek, lips dragging over skin, down to kiss his jaw, his neck. He mouths over the visibly swollen spot of his glands, and Bucky jerks and cries out. He starts humping frantically against him, and Steve nods and pushes down into it, giving him pressure to rut against. He slips a hand into Bucky’s hair and cradles his skull as the boy gets close. “That’s it,” he says, “That’s it, Honey. Make yourself cum.” He lets his teeth scrape lightly over Bucky’s glands. “Want to make you feel safe, ‘mega. You’re so safe with me.”

Bucky stiffens and comes, shuddering through it and clinging tightly to Steve the whole time. Steve hums encouragingly and lets him ride it out. “Good boy,” he praises. “Such a good boy for me.” He pulls back and looks down at him, smiling tenderly and admiring Bucky’s blissed out features.

Slowly, Bucky’s face relaxes from the orgasm, and his eyes flutter back open to look up at Steve. He's panting slightly, all bitten-red lips and wobbling chin and long lashes. The perfect picture of an aroused omega.

“I want to bond you, Sweetheart,” Steve whispers, knowing that this needs to be Bucky’s decision. Even if his biology ultimately took the choice away from him three years ago, Steve can at least give him the illusion of choice now. “Right here." He swipes his thumb over Bucky’s glands. “When I’m inside you. When we’re tied. I’ll bite you, and we’ll be connected forever.” He waits a moment, letting the silence emphasize the gravity of what he’s asking. “Do you want that, Bucky? To be my bondmate?”

Bucky’s breath hitches and his face absolutely crumples. He cries and nods rapidly, whining and clinging to Steve as though he can possibly get any closer. “Please, Steve, please.” He grapples for Steve’s head and kisses him sloppily, desperate and greedy. “Mmm, mmph.”

Steve indulges him for a moment or two, letting the inexperienced omega explore and make himself feel good. But then he takes control, using his fingers in Bucky’s hair to guide him. He slots their mouths together and kisses him with agonizingly slow pressure. He waits for Bucky’s muffled sob before he dares to slip inside, delving into his mouth—hot, and wet and slow—touching their tongues in a dirty roll and showing him how good it can be. “Tell me,” he insists, pulling back and thumbing at the corner of Bucky's eye. “Tell me what you want.”

Bucky whimpers and tries to kiss him again, his hands sliding restlessly over Steve's back and shoulders. “Yes,” he pants. “Yes, yes. Alpha. Mate me. B-bond.”

Steve rumbles deep in his chest as his hindbrain flares with white-hot satisfaction. 'Yes, Alpha'—that’s all he needed to hear. “Okay,” he says, making sure to give Bucky one last, tender peck on the mouth to show him that he’s not angry, that his voice has gone to gravel and his body tensed to stone because of how happy he is, how excited. Every primal, possessive part of his brain is stimulated at the thought of finally claiming Bucky as his own. Claiming this sweet, soft, vulnerable, needy boy is the only thing he’s yearned for in recent memory, and now he’s finally going to get to do it. 

He tries to hold it together for Bucky’s sake. He doesn’t want to be an animal, even though that’s exactly how he feels, his mind rapidly devolving into pinhole focus on keywords like ‘mate’ and ‘breed’ and ‘mine’. But he takes deep breaths and keeps control of his instincts because he wants this to be good for Bucky. He wants this to be lovemaking, not fucking. He wants it to be tender.

“Okay, Sweetheart,” he rasps, resting their foreheads together and nudging their noses. “Turn over on your belly when I let you up,” he says. “Can you do that for me, Omega? I want you to turn over and present for Alpha.”

Bucky mewls in excitement and his hips tilt up to rub his cocklet on Steve’s belly again. “Alpha!” he chirps happily, ostensibly from being called ‘Omega’ like that for the very first time—Affectionately, possessively.

“That’s right, Buck,” Steve praises. “I’m your Alpha. And you’re my Omega.” He kisses him once more, but pulls back before he can get carried away. He yanks himself away from Bucky, getting onto his knees and sitting back on his heels. “Come on.” He taps Bucky’s hip impatiently, grinning when he notices that it’s his own cock, resting thick and heavy between his thighs, that has Bucky wide-eyed and slack jawed in fascination.

“It got bigger,” he breathes in amazement. In the blankets, his hands twitch like he’s imagining taking hold of it.

Steve has no doubt that he would, but he tuts to discourage it because he knows he won’t have the willpower to redirect the boy if Bucky decides to start grabbing for his dick. “Don’t get distracted, now,” he rumbles, letting his Voice edge the words with authority. “Present for me, Omega. I know you know how.”

Bucky nods, still staring as a whine starts up in his throat, reedy and plaintive. He begins to bite and suck on his lower lip again as he looks his fill at what may just be the first alpha cock he’s ever seen in his life. Certainly it’s the first one he’s ever seen in person. Steve feels himself getting harder as he watches Bucky’s fascinated eyes flit between his cock and thighs and balls. He seems to like the slight bulge of Steve’s flaccid knot the best, staring hard at it as he makes unconscious little humping movements against the bed. 

Steve catches a glimpse of his slick-smeared thighs and loses patience. Bucky squeaks in surprise when Steve’s hands land on his hips and urge him to turn over. “Yes!” he yelps. 

Steve lets go, knowing that the omega wants to do it himself, wants to show his Alpha that he’s eager to present. “Good boy,” he purrs, when Bucky has gone face down and ass up in the bedcovers, his knees drawing up under himself and then spreading to achieve that picture-perfect arch in his back.

Steve shuffles closer on his knees, until his thighs are pressed all along the backs of Bucky’s. He splays one hand out on his sacrum and uses the other to part his cheeks, groaning at the sight of his pink and pulsing rim.

It's so wet. Steve sets his cock against it and holds it there, pulses his hips and watches the head peek out from the foreskin, shiny and pink, right over that wet and clenching muscle. “God,” he breathes, amazed at the contrast between them. His dick looks dark and angry against that sweet and vulnerable hole, rigid and mean where Bucky is soft and puffy. “So perfect,” he whispers.

He lets his fingers trail further down, over Bucky’s plump taint, admiring it and rubbing in gentle circles. He nudges Bucky's tight little sac, imagines how wide and bare the stretch of skin will be once Bucky’s had his operation. There’ll be so much to play with, so much smoothness and sensitivity. Steve imagines spending half an hour there, just using his mouth on him, sucking and rubbing and making him come.

“Alpha,” Bucky whines plaintively, pushing his ass back in a needy little wiggle. “Please?”

"Yeah, Baby." Steve lets go of his cock and curls over Bucky’s back, covering him, wrapping an arm under his belly and hugging him back against his chest. "I’m gonna go slow,” he promises. “Fingers, then my cock. I want another orgasm outta you before I put it in.” He kisses the nape of his neck, slides his hand back and down to slip between his cheeks and touch his fluttering rim. It’s so hot, the searing heat of his body when Steve presses the tip of a finger inside making his breath catch and his cock throb. Fuck. He’s going to be in there.

That first finger goes in with hardly any effort, Bucky's body sucking it in. Steve eases in a second when the omega begins to whine impatiently. “Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes, dragging his nose along his hairline and inhaling his scent as he gives him gentle thrusts. It so wet, so tight but so easy to move inside him. Two fingers become three as he pumps his hand, curling on every slow drag out, feeling Bucky shudder underneath him and tension pull through his body as he gets close. “You gonna cum for me, bub?” he whispers, kissing his nape. “Come on, Honey, come on …” 

Bucky moans gutturally as he tips over into orgasm, ass clenching rhythmically and flooding Steve’s hand with slick. “Oh, oh, oh …”

Steve kisses the shell of his ear. “There you go,” he praises. “Did that feel good?” Bucky nods, still panting, and whimpers a shaky little ‘yeah’ that goes straight to Steve's knot. Steve hums and pulls his fingers out. He spreads all that wetness onto his dick, squeezing himself hard at the base for a few seconds to try to stave off his own pleasure. He worries this isn’t going to last very long. “Good job, Baby. So good for me. So beautiful, so good.” He keeps murmuring praise as he pulls back on his knees and looks down at where he’s lining himself up. His cock throbs in his hand at the sight of Bucky’s puffy, twitching rim. “Fuck, Honey. You’re so beautiful.” 

Bucky moans and rocks in place, scrubbing his face into the blankets as he begs to be filled. “Please, pleease. Alpha. Steve.”

“M’right here,” Steve soothes, steadying him with a hand on his lower back. “Shhh. I’ve got you.” He rubs his cockhead back and forth, slippery and red and wet, pressing hard on Bucky's rim but not quite penetrating him. “You ready?” he whispers, waiting for Bucky’s whimper of assent before he starts to push in, slow and steady, gently increasing the pressure until Bucky's rim gives way and he pops inside. He keeps going until he’s buried to the hilt, his balls pressed up tight to Bucky’s ass. “Oh, God.” He’s so tight, his virgin cunt gripping Steve’s cock so perfectly. 

Below him, Bucky moans and looses a warbling, devastated, sob. “Oghn, Steeve!” 

“You okay, bub?” Steve tries with all his might to hold still while Bucky adjusts to his size. He pulses his hips gently, not pulling out much at all, but letting the omega feel him inside his body. “Feel good?”

“Nnngh,” Bucky whines, nodding against the blankets. “Ss-steve, please …” He starts to move his hips, trying to push back on Steve’s cock.

“Fuck, Honey. Wait, wait, wait.” Steve swallows dryly and grabs his waist as he tries not to lose control. “H-hang on, hang on,” he pants, eyes squeezing shut. “Ohfuck.” He hasn’t gotten laid in a long time, and it’s been years since he’s fucked an omega, let alone one he cares about as much as Bucky. He’d forgotten how amazing they feel. “Oh, Bucky,” he breathes, folding back over him to cover him with his bulk. “Bucky, Baby, you’re perfect.” He nuzzles into the curve of his neck, mouthing at his glands and inhaling the rich scent of omega—his omega, the boy he’s about to claim. “Fuck, Honey. I love you, you know that? So beautiful.”

Bucky mewls happily and squirms underneath his weight. “Love you, Steve, please. I’m ready. I’m ready.”

Steve growls and pulls his hips back, then ruts into him. Their skin claps together as he starts up a slow, deep pace; pulling out only halfway and fucking back into him hard and firm, their balls knocking together on every thrust. Bucky keens and tries to move with him, but there's not much he can do besides take it. He tips his head to bear his neck, whispering a quiet, “Alpha,” as Steve rocks them together. “Alpha, please, I'm ready.”

Steve seals his mouth to Bucky’s swollen glands and sucks hard. His teeth ache with the urge to bite down, and the sounds Bucky makes have his cock swelling larger, his knot catching a little more with every thrust. He realizes he’s going to come sooner than he’d like. “Buck,” he rasps, “I’m close. Gonna knot you, okay? Gonna bond you.”

Bucky keens hysterically and nods, desperate tears clogging his voice as he shoves his hips back and cries, “Alpha, alpha, alpha.”

Steve growls and slips a hand under his belly, finding his cocklet and rubbing it between his fingers. “Come on, Sweetheart,” he grits. “Want to feel you cum on my cock. One more time, come on, gimme one more.”

Bucky sobs and nods as he tips into his third orgasm. With Steve’s swelling knot inside, it’s stronger than the others, his body locking down and finding a true release from being filled. Steve smells it first, and then groans at the huge gush of slick that floods between them in a hot, sticky mess. “Oh yeah,” he groans, his knot popping fully. “Fuck, baby, you just squirted. F-ffuck …” He ruts harder, knot tugging deliciously on Bucky's rim again and again. The tight band of pleasure in his belly finally snaps, and he starts to come.

That’s when he finally, finally opens his mouth and sinks his teeth in. He feels the glands burst in his mouth, tastes blood and Bucky and mate. He growls furiously and fucks him hard, his knot tug-tug-tugging on Bucky’s rim.  

Bucky squeals and shudders through another orgasm that surpasses even the last. His release squirts in a hot gush between them, all over Steve’s groin and belly, and his turgid little cocklet spurts in Steve's hand as he loses control of his bladder. “Nnnnh!” 

“ ‘mega,” Steve growls, releasing the bite to seal his mouth over the wound and suck. Bucky wails, contracts into another orgasm, and pisses himself a little more. Steve’s lost in a cloud of bliss, physical pleasure and mental euphoria overwhelming his senses completely. He grunts and growls against Bucky’s skin, smearing blood on his shoulder and squirt between their bodies, humping and humping and not stopping. It goes on for long minutes, he isn't sure how many, but he’s vaguely aware of Bucky beneath him, dribbling and crying and shuddering in tiny little aftershocks as they ride out their tie together.

They collapse flat on the bed, hips still working in tiny movements. In the blankets, Steve slides his hand over the back of Bucky's and threads their fingers together. Bucky gives a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement, feeling blissed out and safe.

—and that, right there: Safe. That's the first time Steve feels the bond. Bucky is so incredibly happy and safe. The realization brings tears to Steve's eyes.

Finally, they’re connected. Bucky is his mate.

A.N.: I've had some asks about this fic , requesting extra ending scenes, so I'll likely swing back around at some point and add more parts to the epilogue, but for now this is the official ending. Hope y'all enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

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Sweet Dreams - Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: Alexandria starts to attend classes while also struggling with insomnia.

Word Count: 15.2k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x Original Female Character (platonic relationship)

Notes: i meant to update yesterday, but imma be real, college is no joke, especially when you're like me and have chronic insomnia and get 4 hours of sleep on a good day.

anyways, quick note. when dialogue is italicized it means alexandria, or other characters, are talking in a different language, usually russian. some words i kept in russian only because alexandria uses them often (they're pretty much just curse words).

i had no idea this chapter was 15k, oops

Series Masterlist - Chapter 1 → Chapter 3

AO3 Link For Chapter

Alexandria looked down at the paper schedule in her hand. There were 4 classes for the day, each to be repeated every day.

She thought HYDRA was bad? This was almost the same thing. Or maybe she was just exaggerating.

After a week of getting used to the environment, Professor Xavier thought it best for her to start classes. Kitty was taking her to her first period, which was chemistry taught by Hank.

“Mr. McCoy isn’t a bad teacher.” Kitty said, as they walked, “if you end up taking any sort of biology or mutant physiology, then you’ll get Dr. MacTaggert. She’s a bit harsher.”

Kitty continued to talk as they walked down the hallway, her tone light and conversational. Alexandria appreciated that Kitty didn’t try too hard to make her feel at ease, but instead just talked about things that might be useful. It was a different approach than what Alexandria was used to, and it made her feel slightly less on edge.

“Mr. McCoy—well, Hank, really—he’s great with chemistry. He’s one of the smartest people I know,” Kitty said with a small smile. “And he’s really patient, which helps if you’re, you know, new to all this.”

Alexandria nodded, though she wasn’t sure how much that would matter. She had a lot of catching up to do, considering she didn’t even know how a computer worked until last week. The thought of trying to keep up with the other students in a subject as complex as chemistry made her stomach twist, but she kept her face neutral.

As they neared the classroom, Kitty paused, turning to face Alexandria. “Listen, I know it’s a lot to take in. I was pretty overwhelmed when I first got here too. But if you need anything—help with classes, or just someone to talk to—I’m around.”

Before Alexandria could respond, Scott walked in between the two of them, placing an arm around each of their shoulders. Alexandria furrowed her brows at the action.

“Don’t worry Kitty. I’ll help her, I have chemistry too.” Scott raised a hand in front of Alexandria as she stared at it.

Was this an American gesture? She doesn’t think she’s seen this in HYDRA before.

Alexandria stared at Scott's raised hand; her expression blank as she tried to decipher what he wanted from her. It took her a moment to realize it was a gesture meant to be friendly, maybe even encouraging. Slowly, she lifted her own hand and awkwardly slapped it against his, feeling utterly out of her depth.

Scott chuckled. “High five! We’ll work on that.”

She didn’t respond, unsure of what to make of the entire interaction. It felt forced, unnatural. She’d spent the last week trying to figure out how to exist in this strange new environment, but every day felt like she was trying to wear someone else’s skin. Nothing fit right.

Kitty noticed Alexandria's discomfort and shot Scott a look that was a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Come on, Scott, don’t scare her off before her first class.”

Scott grinned, stepping back and giving Alexandria some space. “Relax, Kitty, I’m just being welcoming.”

“Yeah, well, maybe ease up on the enthusiasm a little,” Kitty suggested, rolling her eyes before turning back to Alexandria. “Like I said, if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Sure,” Alexandria replied, her voice clipped, but not intentionally. It was just how she spoke—short, to the point, without the usual pleasantries most people added in. She wasn’t used to them, didn’t see the point.

Kitty seemed to understand that and didn’t push for more. “Alright, see you later then.”

As Kitty walked off, Scott led Alexandria into the classroom. The room was filled with lab tables, each equipped with the standard chemistry setup—Bunsen burners, glassware, and various other tools that Alexandria was only vaguely familiar with.

The other students were already seated, some chatting in low voices, others reviewing their notes. Alexandria felt their eyes on her as she followed Scott to a table near the back. She hated the scrutiny, but she was getting used to it. It seemed like everyone here was curious about the new girl.

“Here we are,” Scott said, pulling out a stool for her. “Hank’s a cool guy. You’ll be fine.”

She nodded stiffly, taking the seat and glancing around the room. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She didn’t have any notes, didn’t even have a pencil. The realization made her stomach twist again, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. No one needed to know how out of place she felt.

Scott noticed her empty hands and frowned. “You didn’t bring anything?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t given any supplies.”

Scott frowned, glancing at his own neatly organized notes and pens. “Don’t worry, I’ve got extras. Here.” He handed her a pen and a blank notebook.

She took them, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. She hated relying on others for anything, but she didn’t have much of a choice right now. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Scott said, leaning back in his seat just as the classroom door swung open.

Hank McCoy, or Mr. McCoy as everyone here seemed to call him, strode in with a calm and confident air. “Good morning, everyone,” Hank began, his voice reassuring. “I hope you all had a restful night and are ready to dive into the wonders of chemistry.”

The class responded with a mix of murmurs and nods. Hank’s gaze swept over the room, landing on Alexandria for a brief moment before he gave her a small, welcoming nod. She returned it with a curt one of her own, not sure how else to respond.

“We have a new student joining us today,” Hank continued, gesturing towards Alexandria. “This is Alexandria Sokolova. Let’s make her feel welcome.”

There were a few more murmurs, but nothing too intrusive. Most of the students just gave her a brief glance before turning back to their own work. That was fine with her. She didn’t need or want their attention.

Hank moved on quickly, diving into the day’s lesson. He explained the concept of chemical bonding with a level of detail and enthusiasm that would’ve been impressive if Alexandria had any clue what he was talking about.

As it was, she found herself lost within the first five minutes, the terms and equations swirling in her head like a foreign language. She tried to keep up, scribbling down notes as best she could, but it felt hopeless. She’d never had formal schooling like this. Everything she knew was learned in HYDRA’s training facilities, and none of it involved covalent bonds or molecular structures.

Scott noticed her struggle and leaned over, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the class. “Don’t stress about it. Hank’s really good about explaining things if you need help.”

She gritted her teeth, hating that she needed help in the first place. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Hey, no pressure. Just letting you know you’ve got options,” Scott said, his tone light and nonchalant.

The rest of the class went by in a blur. Alexandria spent most of it trying to make sense of what Hank was saying, but it was like trying to catch water with a sieve. By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, she was exhausted. Mentally, at least.

As the students began packing up, Hank approached her table. “Alexandria, how did you find the lesson?”

She hesitated, not wanting to admit how much she hadn’t understood. But lying didn’t seem like a good option either. “It was... a lot to take in.”

Hank nodded, his expression kind. “That’s perfectly understandable. You’re adjusting to a lot of new things. If you ever need extra help, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m here to make sure you succeed.”

She nodded, though she didn’t quite believe him. Success wasn’t something she was used to, and she doubted it would come easy here.

“Thank you,” she said, the words feeling foreign on her tongue.

“You’re welcome,” Hank replied with a warm smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded again, then quickly gathered her things and followed Scott out of the classroom. They walked in silence for a bit, and she was grateful that Scott didn’t try to fill it with more idle chatter. She needed a moment to collect herself.

Finally, Scott spoke up. “Next up is math. It’s with Ms. Frost.”

Hank she had met when she’d first got here, but this Frost woman she hadn’t heard of yet.

"Who’s Ms. Frost?" Alexandria asked as she and Scott walked down the hallway toward the next classroom. Her tone was flat, but there was a hint of curiosity behind it. After the chaos of the last class, she wanted to know what she was walking into this time.

Scott glanced at her sideways. "Emma Frost. She’s… well, she’s different. She teaches math, but she’s also a telepath, one of the most powerful ones here. She doesn’t exactly have a soft touch."

"Great," Alexandria muttered under her breath. A telepath. Just what she needed.

Scott caught the tone in her voice and tried to reassure her. "Don’t worry. She’s tough, but she’s fair. If you put in the effort, she’ll respect that."

Alexandria wasn’t sure if she cared about earning anyone’s respect, especially not from a teacher who could read her mind. The idea of someone poking around in her head made her uneasy, but she wasn’t about to show that to Scott.

When they reached the classroom, Scott pushed open the door, revealing a sleek, modern room with large windows letting in plenty of light. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and at the front was a large whiteboard filled with complex equations.

The students were already seated, and Alexandria noticed immediately how different the atmosphere was from the last class. There was a tension here, an unspoken understanding that you didn’t mess around in Ms. Frost’s class.

Emma Frost stood at the front, her presence commanding without needing to say a word. She was tall, blonde, and dressed impeccably in a white suit that looked like it cost more than Alexandria’s entire wardrobe. Her expression was cool, almost indifferent, but her eyes were sharp, taking in everything with a single glance.

Scott led Alexandria to a seat near the middle of the room. As she sat down, she couldn’t help but feel like she was under a microscope. Emma’s gaze flicked toward her, and for a moment, Alexandria wondered if the woman was already inside her head.

“Class,” Emma’s voice was smooth, cutting through the quiet murmur of the students, “we have a new student joining us today. Alexandria Sokolova.” She said the name as if she were tasting it, evaluating it. “I expect you all to help her catch up, though I’m sure she won’t need much assistance.”

The way she said it, it was hard to tell if it was a compliment or a challenge. Alexandria kept her face impassive, refusing to give anything away.

“Open your textbooks to page 157,” Emma continued without missing a beat. “Today we’ll be covering logarithmic functions. For those of you who found last week’s lesson difficult, I suggest you pay close attention.”

As Emma began the lesson, Alexandria tried to follow along, but the pace was relentless. It was clear that Emma Frost didn’t waste time with handholding. She expected everyone to keep up, and if you couldn’t, that was your problem. The students around her were focused, scribbling down notes with a speed that made Alexandria feel like she was moving in slow motion.

She gripped her pen tightly, trying to force herself to understand the equations on the board. Numbers and symbols blurred together, and she could feel frustration building in her chest. The last thing she wanted was to fall behind, to look weak, but the material was completely foreign to her.

Scott glanced over at her again, noticing the tension in her posture. “If you need help, just ask,” he whispered, his voice low so Emma wouldn’t hear.

“I’m fine,” Alexandria replied through gritted teeth, her pride refusing to let her admit how much she was struggling.

Emma paused in her lecture and turned her icy blue eyes directly on Alexandria. “Miss Sokolova, since you’re new, why don’t you come up to the board and solve this equation?”

Alexandria felt her heart skip a beat. She wasn’t prepared for this, but there was no way out. Standing up, she walked to the front of the room, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on her. She stared at the equation Emma had written on the board, trying to make sense of it, but it was like looking at a foreign language.

After a long moment of silence, Emma spoke again, her tone calm but with an edge to it. “Take your time, Miss Sokolova. We’re all waiting.”

The pressure was suffocating, but Alexandria refused to back down. She raised the marker to the board and began to work through the problem, her mind racing to piece together the bits of information she understood. The room was so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat, and she knew that every mistake she made was being scrutinized.

Finally, she stepped back, unsure if what she had done was correct but unwilling to admit defeat.

Emma studied the board for a moment, then turned to face Alexandria. “Not quite,” she said, her voice sharp enough to cut. “You’ve missed a crucial step here. Let me show you.”

With a few swift strokes, Emma corrected the equation, explaining where Alexandria had gone wrong. The explanation was clear, precise, but there was no warmth in her tone, no encouragement.

“Understand?” Emma asked, fixing her gaze on Alexandria.

“Yes,” Alexandria replied, though she wasn’t entirely sure she did. It was more of a reflex, a refusal to show any more weakness than she already had.

“Good,” Emma said, her expression neutral. “You may sit down.”

As Alexandria walked back to her seat, she could feel the eyes of her classmates on her, judging her performance. She hated the feeling, but there was nothing she could do about it. She just had to get through this class, through the day, and keep her head above water.

The rest of the lesson passed in a blur, with Emma moving quickly through the material, barely giving anyone time to breathe. By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, Alexandria felt like she had been through a battle.

Scott waited for her as she gathered her things, his expression sympathetic. “That was tough. But hey, you didn’t completely bomb it.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, not sure if she believed him. She knew she had messed up, and she hated how it made her feel. But at the same time, is it really her fault? She’s never done any of this in her entire life. Never done math, or science, the only learning she did was learning 10 different languages.

“Next up is English,” Scott said, trying to keep the mood light. “Storm teaches it.”

Alexandria furrowed her brow at the mention of English class. "English? You need a class to learn about the language we're already speaking?"

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. "Not quite. It’s more about literature, reading, writing—stuff like that. Storm—well, Ms. Munroe—teaches it. She’s cool. A lot more relaxed than Frost, for sure.”

She nodded, though the concept still seemed odd to her. In HYDRA, language classes meant learning multiple foreign tongues for intelligence purposes, not sitting in a room discussing stories or essays. But then again, everything here was different. She’d just have to adapt.

Scott led her down the hallway, and soon they were standing in front of the English classroom. The door was propped open, and the room inside was much less intimidating than the previous one. Natural light streamed in through large windows, and the walls were lined with bookshelves filled with various novels and texts. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, clinical feel of Emma Frost’s classroom.

Ororo was already at her desk, her silver-white hair cascading down her shoulders. She exuded a calm presence that immediately put Alexandria at ease, at least compared to what she’d just experienced.

“Good morning, Scott. Alexandria,” Storm greeted them with a gentle smile as they walked in. She had a way of making everyone feel seen, like they mattered, even if they were just two of many students.

“Morning, Ms. Munroe,” Scott replied with a nod, heading to a seat near the middle of the room.

Alexandria hesitated for a moment before following him. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but at least this room didn’t make her want to turn and bolt in the opposite direction. She took a seat next to Scott, placing her borrowed notebook and pen on the desk in front of her.

Ororo stood up and walked to the front of the class, her movements graceful and deliberate. “Today, we’ll continue our discussion on ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.’ For those who are new or need a refresher,” she glanced at Alexandria, her smile kind but not patronizing, “we’re exploring themes of morality, justice, and prejudice through the lens of this classic novel.”

The title was familiar, though only in passing. Alexandria had never had the chance to read it—HYDRA had no use for novels in their training regimens. She sat stiffly in her seat, trying not to let her unease show. The other students began pulling out their copies of the book, and she felt another pang of anxiety. She didn’t have the book, and even if she did, she doubted she’d understand what was going on.

Ororo seemed to sense her discomfort. “Alexandria, would you like to borrow a copy? I have an extra one right here.” She held up a well-worn copy of the novel.

Alexandria hesitated before nodding. “Yes, please.”

Ororo handed her the book, her expression calm and understanding. “Take your time with it. We’re here to discuss and explore, not to rush through anything.”

Alexandria nodded again, grateful for the teacher’s measured approach. As the class began discussing the novel, she opened the book to the marked chapter and tried to follow along. It wasn’t easy—there were a lot of references and concepts she didn’t fully grasp—but the discussion was lively and engaging, with students sharing their thoughts and interpretations.

Ororo encouraged everyone to speak, even if their opinions differed. It was a strange concept to Alexandria, who was used to a rigid hierarchy where differing opinions were seen as dissent. Here, though, it was almost expected. She remained silent for most of the class, taking in the way others interacted, the way they expressed themselves without fear of reprimand.

About halfway through the period, Ororo posed a question to the class. “How do you think the events in the novel reflect the moral dilemmas we face in our own lives? Are there parallels between the story and the challenges we encounter today?”

The students began discussing, some drawing connections between the novel’s themes and issues of justice or prejudice in modern society. Alexandria listened intently, trying to piece together the context and the relevance of the conversation. It was so different from anything she’d experienced before, where morality was dictated, not debated.

Ororo turned her gaze to Alexandria, not in a way that put her on the spot, but more as an invitation. “Alexandria, do you have any thoughts on this? I’d be interested to hear your perspective.”

Alexandria blinked, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected to be asked to contribute, especially when she felt so out of her depth. But there was no hostility in Ororo’s expression, only genuine curiosity.

“I… don’t really know,” Alexandria began, choosing her words carefully. “I’m still trying to understand the story. The idea of… debating morality like this… it’s new to me.”

Ororo nodded, her expression thoughtful. “That’s okay. It’s a complex topic, and it’s perfectly fine to take your time with it. We’re all here to learn from each other.”

The class continued without any further pressure on Alexandria to participate, and she was grateful for it. As they discussed the novel, she began to see the value in these kinds of conversations, even if they were unfamiliar and a bit uncomfortable for her.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, Ororo gave the students their assignment—a short essay on the moral dilemmas faced by the characters in the novel. Alexandria inwardly groaned at the thought of writing an essay. She wasn’t sure she even knew how to write one, let alone analyze something as nuanced as morality in a fictional story.

As the students began to file out of the classroom, Ororo called out to Alexandria. “Could you stay for a moment, Alexandria? I’d like to have a quick word.”

Scott gave her an encouraging nod before leaving the room, and Alexandria walked up to Ororo’s desk, trying to keep her nerves in check.

“You’re doing well, Alexandria,” Ororo said, her tone warm and reassuring. “I know this is all new to you, but you’re adjusting. I wanted to offer you some additional help if you need it. We can work together after class or during free periods to go over the material. Whatever you need to feel more comfortable.”

Alexandria was silent for a moment, her pride warring with her need for help. She didn’t want to appear weak, didn’t want to rely on anyone, but she knew she was out of her depth. Finally, she gave a small nod. “I… might need that.”

Ororo smiled, a genuine one that reached her eyes. “There’s no shame in asking for help. We all need it from time to time. Just let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll go from there.”

“Thank you,” Alexandria said, her voice quieter than she intended. It felt strange to be treated with such kindness without any ulterior motive. She wasn’t used to it, but she was beginning to see that maybe, just maybe, not everyone was out to use her.

“You’re welcome,” Ororo replied. “Now, don’t worry too much about the essay. Just try your best. We’ll work on it together if you need to.”

Alexandria nodded, feeling a bit lighter as she left the classroom. This day had been overwhelming, but at least she knew there were people here willing to help her navigate it all.

As she stepped into the hallway, she was met with the gruff voice of someone she’d rather not have run into at that moment.

“Looks like you survived Frost’s class.”

Alexandria turned to see Logan leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His usual scowl was in place, but there was a hint of something else in his expression—maybe concern, though she wasn’t sure he was capable of it.

“Barely,” she replied, her tone flat. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking in,” he said, though it didn’t sound like something he’d normally do. “How’s it going?”

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his sudden interest. “Why do you care?”

Logan shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Don’t, really. But Chuck asked me to keep an eye on you. Make sure you’re not causing trouble.”

Alexandria rolled her eyes. He always seemed to be right in front of her when all she wanted was to be alone. Instead of coming up with a retort to his ‘causing trouble’ quip, she went with something else. “I have to go to my,” she took the folded piece of paper out of her jacket’s pocket, “US History class.”

“Come on then, kid.” Logan pushed himself off the wall and started to walk down the slowly emptying hallway.

Alexandria blinked in response before walking to catch up to Logan. “Kitty already showed me where the class was,” she said.

Logan grunted, glancing at her sideways. “Yeah, well, I’m sure Kitty did. Doesn’t mean I can’t walk you there.”

She looked at her schedule as they walked, noticing the letters next to the class periods where the teacher’s names were. Alexandria looked up from her schedule, her gaze meeting Logan's. "You teach history?"

Logan’s expression didn’t change much. “Yeah, I teach history. Got a problem with that?”

“No,” Alexandria replied, her tone clipped. “Just surprised.”

Logan shrugged. “Most people are. History’s not exactly a popular subject around here.”

As they walked down the hallway, Logan's steps were quick and purposeful, and Alexandria found herself having to match his pace. “You might want to pay attention. History’s not just about dates and events. It’s about understanding what led to those events.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Alexandria said, though her voice was laced with sarcasm.

Logan didn’t seem to notice or care. “Yeah, well, just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Alexandria shot back, her tone challenging. “I’ve had enough of that.”

Logan grunted, glancing at her sideways. “You know, you might actually fit in better around here than you think.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How’s that?”

“You’ve got that look,” Logan said. “The one that says you’ve been through some crap and come out the other side. People here have been through their own share of it.”

Alexandria didn’t reply immediately. She’d always prided herself on keeping her emotions in check, but there was something in Logan’s observation that made her pause. “And what makes you think I’m interested in fitting in?”

“Just a hunch,” Logan said with a shrug. “Sometimes it helps to have someone who gets it.”

The hallway ended, and they reached the door to the history classroom. Logan opened it and motioned for Alexandria to go in. “There you go. Don’t get too comfortable. History’s not going to be any easier than the rest of your classes.”

Alexandria stepped inside, glancing around the room. It was less intimidating than Emma Frost’s classroom but still had an air of seriousness to it. Logan followed her in and gestured to a seat near the front.

“Take a seat,” Logan said gruffly. “Class should be starting soon.”

Alexandria sat down, feeling a bit more settled now that she was in a familiar environment. Logan walked to the front of the room and began arranging his notes. The classroom started to fill up with students, their chatter a low hum in the background.

As Logan started the lesson, his gruff demeanor didn’t change. He dived right into the topic, talking about significant historical events with a no-nonsense attitude. Alexandria tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting back to the earlier classes. The pace of everything was overwhelming, and she was still trying to catch up.

“Alright, enough with the small talk,” Logan said abruptly, drawing Alexandria’s attention back to him. “Today we’re starting with the American Revolution. Anyone want to tell me why it was significant?”

A few hands went up, and Logan called on a student to answer. Alexandria found herself struggling to keep up with the discussion. She’d never had to study this kind of history before, and the different context made it even more challenging.

Logan’s eyes flickered toward Alexandria occasionally, as if assessing her. “You’ll need to do your reading,” he said at one point, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “The textbook’s on the shelf in the back. Grab it if you need it.”

“Thanks,” Alexandria said, though her voice was tinged with frustration. She stood and walked to the back of the room, grabbing a textbook and flipping it open to the right section. She tried to immerse herself in the material, but the words seemed to dance around on the page.

She didn’t even know who these people were: George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams- why did they all look the same?

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, Alexandria felt a sense of relief. She packed her things and prepared to leave, but Logan stopped her before she could walk out.

“Hey,” he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. “Stick around for a minute.”

Alexandria paused, turning back to him. “What is it?”

Logan leaned against his desk, his expression slightly less gruff. “You’re struggling, and that’s fine. If you need any extra help or if you’ve got questions, just ask. I’m not gonna hold your hand, but I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so she stuck with a nod before leaving the classroom.

---

After 4 days of school, the weekend came along. Which was great because she was exhausted. Who knew school could be more exhausting than 20-hour torture and experimentation sessions?

A knock came on her door around 11 o’clock on Saturday as she opened it to find Natasha and Wanda outside.

“Want to come on a shopping trip?” Natasha asked, her arms crossed but a small smile on her face.

Wanda looked into Alexandria’s room, “you don’t have many clothes, and it would be good for you to get out.”

Alexandria glanced around her sparse room, taking in the few clothes she had and the bare walls. She knew Wanda was right. She was still adjusting, and her wardrobe was a testament to that. But the thought of going out, especially on a shopping trip with Natasha and Wanda, felt daunting.

But she did like their company more than some of the others she had met.

“I don’t know,” Alexandria said, her voice a mix of uncertainty and irritation. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Natasha’s expression softened a bit, though she still had that usual edge about her. “We won’t be gone all day. Just a few hours. It’ll do you good to take a break.”

Alexandria hesitated, feeling torn between her need to keep up with her studies and the urge to escape her small, confining room. She knew she should take a break, but the thought of facing the outside world, even for a short while, made her uneasy.

Wanda chimed in, her tone gentle but firm. “It’s not just about clothes. It’s a chance to get to know the place better, to get out of your head for a bit.”

Alexandria sighed, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “Alright, fine. I’ll go.”

Natasha and Wanda exchanged a quick look of relief, and Natasha’s small smile widened slightly. “Great. Let’s get going then.”

As they walked out of the mansion and headed towards Natasha’s car, Alexandria couldn’t shake the feeling of apprehension. The streets outside were bustling with activity, a stark contrast to the quiet, controlled environment she was used to. She kept close to Natasha and Wanda, trying to ignore the growing sense of discomfort as they made their way to a nearby shopping district.

The shopping center was filled with people, the noise and activity almost overwhelming. Alexandria’s eyes darted around, trying to take it all in. She felt out of place, like she was on display in a world that was too vibrant and unfamiliar.

But, she felt a small amount of excitement ramping up. Last night, after Jean and Kitty helped her with homework, they showed her a website called Pinterest, and told her to look up whatever she wanted. Clothes, nail designs, outfits, hair styles. It was definitely a weird and new experience, but considering two weeks ago she didn’t know what a computer was, she supposed it wasn’t that weird.

Alexandria pulled out her phone, one Tony had shipping over a few days ago and logged into the account she made with Jean and Kitty’s help before showing a few outfit pictures to Natasha and Wanda.

“That’s a wide variety, kid.” Natasha commented.

“I… wasn’t sure what would look good on me. I’ve never been shopping.”

Wanda and Natasha exchanged a glance, the corners of Wanda's lips twitching into a small, sympathetic smile. "You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll figure it out together," Wanda said, her tone reassuring.

Natasha nodded, her voice steady and matter-of-fact. "The first time can be a bit overwhelming, but it's not as complicated as it seems. Just think of it as trying on different versions of yourself until something feels right."

Alexandria hesitated, feeling a bit awkward admitting her lack of experience. "I just… I don’t want to look stupid. I’ve never had to do this before."

Natasha’s gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained cool. "No one's judging you here. And if anyone does, they’ll have to deal with us," she added, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips.

Wanda chuckled, her laugh light and warm. "And trust me, nobody wants to mess with us."

Alexandria found herself relaxing a little at their words. She was still on edge, but at least she wasn’t alone in this. “Okay,” she said, her voice steadier. “Let’s do this.”

The three of them walked through the mall, navigating the crowded corridors with ease. Natasha led the way, her sharp eyes scanning the stores while Wanda stayed close to Alexandria, offering quiet reassurance when she noticed her discomfort. They eventually entered a large clothing store, racks of clothing and mannequins on display creating a maze-like environment.

Natasha motioned to a section of the store that was filled with casual clothes—jeans, t-shirts, hoodies. "We can start here. Try picking out a few things that catch your eye."

Alexandria looked around, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of options. She took a deep breath and started walking through the racks, her fingers brushing over the different fabrics. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she tried to focus on what felt right.

Wanda watched her for a moment before stepping closer, holding up a dark green hoodie with a small design on the front. "What about this? It’s simple but has some character."

Alexandria took the hoodie from Wanda, inspecting it closely. “I like it,” she admitted, surprised at how easily the words came out. She usually kept her thoughts to herself, especially when it came to things like this.

“Good,” Wanda said, her smile widening. “Let’s grab a few more things and head to the fitting rooms.”

Natasha was already holding a couple of items she’d picked out—a pair of black jeans and a gray t-shirt. “Try these too,” she said, handing them over. “You’ll need basics like this.”

Alexandria took the clothes, her arms now full, and followed Natasha and Wanda to the fitting rooms. Once inside, she hesitated for a moment before stepping into one of the small cubicles. She tried on the first outfit, the dark green hoodie and black jeans, and looked at herself in the mirror.

The reflection staring back at her was unfamiliar, but not in a bad way. She looked… normal. Like a regular teenager, not the trained operative HYDRA had molded her into. It was strange but also oddly comforting.

“How’s it going in there?” Natasha called from outside.

Alexandria took one last look at herself before opening the door. “I think I like it,” she said, her tone uncertain.

Wanda’s eyes lit up as she saw the outfit. “It looks great on you, Alexandria. You’ve got a good eye.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Solid choice. Comfortable but still stylish.”

Alexandria felt a small flicker of pride at their approval. “Thanks,” she said, her voice a little more confident. “I’ll try the other stuff now.”

She went back into the fitting room and tried on the other outfits they had picked out. Each time she emerged, Wanda and Natasha offered their thoughts, always encouraging but never pushy. By the time they were done, Alexandria had a small pile of clothes she actually liked, a mix of comfortable basics and a few pieces that added a bit of personality to her wardrobe.

As they walked up to the register, Alexandria couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t just about the clothes—it was about finally taking a step towards something that felt like her own choice.

Natasha glanced at the clothes in Alexandria’s arms and raised an eyebrow. “You did good, kid.”

“Yeah,” Alexandria said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I guess I did.”

After paying for the clothes, they left the store and continued walking through the mall. Alexandria was carrying a few bags, and though the weight of them was light, the significance felt heavy in her mind.

Natasha seemed to notice, her sharp eyes catching everything. “You okay?” she asked, her voice neutral but with an underlying note of concern.

“Yeah,” Alexandria replied, her tone thoughtful. “Just… I don’t know. This feels weird.”

Wanda tilted her head slightly, her expression gentle. “Weird how?”

“Like I’m doing something normal,” Alexandria admitted, her voice quiet. “I’m not used to it.”

Natasha nodded, her face unreadable. “That’s understandable. But you’ve got to start somewhere.”

Wanda reached out and gave Alexandria’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re doing great, Alexandria. Just take it one step at a time.”

Alexandria nodded, not entirely convinced but willing to try. “I will,” she said, her voice firmer than before.

As they continued walking through the mall, something caught Alexandria’s eye- a different store with a black shirt that she found… cute.

After picking out a few things from that store, Alexandria looked over at the card Natasha was using. "Whose card is that?"

Natasha looked over at her, “Tony’s.” She said, with a small smirk.

Alexandria gave a small huff of amusement before taking the card Natasha held out to her. She read over the numbers on the back, committing them to memory, which she knows Natasha approved of based on the smile still on her face.

Before she knew it, they drove back to the school with 7 bags of clothes and shoes for Alexandria.

When Natasha, Wanda, and Alexandria pulled into the driveway of the mansion, Alexandria was struck by a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. The shopping trip had been a whirlwind, and though she’d felt overwhelmed at times, she was glad she’d gone. It was a small victory in her new, unfamiliar life.

“Thanks for today,” Alexandria said, her tone genuine despite her usual reserve. “It really helped.”

Natasha gave her a small smile. “Glad you think so. Just remember, don’t let it all go to your head.”

Wanda nodded in agreement. “And if you ever need a break or more shopping, just let us know.”

Alexandria nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. “I will. Thanks again.”

As they headed inside with the bags, Natasha and Wanda left her to unpack and relax, promising to catch up with her later. Alexandria made her way to her room, feeling the weight of the day lift as she finally reached her sanctuary.

She started unpacking her new clothes, trying to organize them into her limited closet space. The process felt oddly satisfying, and for the first time in a while, she allowed herself to relax, letting her thoughts drift as she worked.

---

As much as she would’ve loved the weekend to last forever, it didn’t. Because it was once again Monday which meant more classes and more work.

This place definitely seemed worse than HYDRA. At least there she didn’t have to learn about useless things like chemistry, math, history, or English.

One good thing did happen during breakfast, where she begrudgingly sat with Kitty, Scott, Jean, and a few other kids. Her and Jean had happened to walk through the lunch line together when Jean had complemented her outfit.

It was the shirt she liked in the window at the mall, with a cut-out in the shoulders, tucked into jeans, and paired with black combat boots.

She liked compliments, Alexandria realized. But she wasn’t sure she was willing to give any out yet herself.

When she walked into her third period, English, Ororo was already at her desk, chatting with a few students. Alexandria took a seat towards the back, pulling out her notebook and trying to focus on the lecture. The class was discussing ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ again, and while Alexandria had made some progress in understanding the book over the weekend, she still felt out of her depth.

In fact, she never had to read much in English. She usually read in Russian. So, some of the words on paper seemed odd.

The class went by in a blur of discussions about morality and justice, and Alexandria found herself half-listening while trying to jot down notes. It wasn’t until the bell rang that she realized just how tired she was.

During the brief break between classes, she found herself in the cafeteria with Scott, Jean, and Kitty. They were gathered around a table, chatting and laughing about the latest school gossip.

“Hey, Alexandria,” Jean greeted her warmly. “How’s the new wardrobe working out?”

“Good,” Alexandria replied, feeling a bit self-conscious but also pleased by the attention. “Thanks for the compliment on the shirt.”

“You looked great,” Jean said with a smile. “It really suits you.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Scott added. “You’ve got a good sense of style.”

Alexandria shrugged, not used to receiving such positive reinforcement. “I guess. I’m still figuring things out.”

The conversation shifted to other topics, but Alexandria found herself feeling slightly more comfortable in their company. The casual banter was a nice change from the more intense atmosphere of her classes.

When the lunch period ended, she found herself heading to her next class—US History, which Logan taught. She was dreading it a bit, knowing that Logan's gruff demeanor might make the class even more challenging.

As she walked into the classroom, she saw Logan at his desk, already preparing for the lesson. His usual scowl was in place, and he didn’t look particularly thrilled to be there.

“Morning,” Alexandria said as she entered, trying to sound casual.

Logan glanced up from his desk, his eyes briefly meeting hers. “Yeah, morning. Take a seat.”

She sat down in her usual spot, trying to ignore the lingering sense of unease. The class was about to start, and Logan began discussing the American Revolution with his usual no-nonsense attitude.

Alexandria struggled to keep up with the rapid pace of the lecture. The details about the Founding Fathers and the various battles felt overwhelming. It was hard to wrap her head around the significance of it all, especially given her lack of background in this kind of history.

The rest of the class continued with Logan’s usual blunt style, which made it difficult to relax. By the end of the period, Alexandria felt mentally exhausted.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, Alexandria quickly packed up her things and headed out of the room. She wanted to avoid any more interaction with Logan if she could help it. But as she made her way to her next class, she found herself unexpectedly intercepted by Logan.

“Hey,” he said, his tone more subdued than usual. “Stick around for a minute.”

Alexandria glanced at him, her brow furrowing. “What’s up?”

Logan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “You seem like you’re struggling. Just wanted to see if you need any help.”

“Here we go again.” Alexandria muttered to herself, her frustration slipping out in her native Russian. She turned back to Logan, her expression a mix of annoyance and wariness.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You got something to say?”

Alexandria shrugged, trying to hide her irritation. “I just… this isn’t what I’m used to.”

Logan nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, I get it. History's not everyone’s cup of tea. But if you’re struggling, it might help to get a bit of extra help.”

She eyed him warily. “Why do you care?” She feels like she says this every time she sees him.

“Look, I’m not in the business of coddling students,” Logan said, his tone gruff. “But I’m also not in the business of letting them fail if I can do something about it.”

Alexandria shifted uncomfortably, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I just don’t get why it’s so important.”

“It’s important because knowing where you come from helps you figure out where you’re going,” Logan said. “But if you’re not getting it, then let’s see if we can fix that.”

She hesitated, torn between her pride and the reality of her situation. “What would you suggest?”

“Extra help sessions after class,” Logan said bluntly. “I can give you some resources to read up on and go over stuff with you. If you’re willing to put in the effort.”

Alexandria sighed. “Alright, fine. When’s the next session?”

“Tomorrow after school,” Logan replied. “Meet me in my office. I’ll give you some material to work through.”

“Got it,” Alexandria said, though she wasn’t thrilled about it. In fact, she didn’t want to go at all. “Thanks, I guess.”

Logan gave a curt nod. “Don’t mention it. Now, get to your next class.”

Alexandria turned and walked away, feeling a strange mix of relief and frustration. She didn’t really know if she should be grateful or annoyed, but at least she had a plan now. She hoped it would help her catch up, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease about the whole situation.

As she walked down the hallway, she saw Scott, Jean, and Kitty waiting near the entrance to their next class. They greeted her with friendly smiles, and she tried to shake off the lingering tension from her conversation with Logan.

“Hey, Alexandria,” Jean said. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just had a talk with Logan,” Alexandria replied, trying to sound casual. “Got some extra help lined up.”

Scott gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s good. Sometimes a little extra help can make a big difference.”

Kitty nodded in agreement. “Yeah, don’t stress too much. We’ve all had subjects that we struggled with at some point.”

Alexandria managed a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

---

Using Tony’s card, she found an online course on English. Specifically, how to read it.

She thinks that’s where her problems are coming from, she can speak it perfectly fine, but she can’t read it for shit.

Alexandria might’ve not slept at all that night, mostly due to the fact she was doing the online course, and also due to the fact she can’t sleep properly since she sees what everyone’s dreaming about.

But at some point, her luck had to hit an all-time low. There was a saying she heard in HYDRA a few times, “bez truda ne vytashchish’ i rybku iz pruda.” No pain, no gain.

A loud pounding sounded out from her door, jerking her awake. She was hunched over at her desk, the video she swore she was just watching now a quiz to test her learning.

She rubbed a hand down her face, noting the time was 9:02 am.

“Blyat'.” Alexandria cursed. Somehow the time turned from 6:47 am to 9:02 am. Meaning, she slept through her first period chemistry class taught by Hank.

She looked at the dates in her journal that she wrote down to note how long she went without sleeping.

Two weeks and 4 days. Two days away from a record.

The banging resumed as she blearily stood up from her desk to open her door.

She yanked open the door to find Logan standing there, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern. The faint smell of coffee clung to him, suggesting he’d been awake for a while, possibly dealing with his own set of issues.

“Nice of you to join the living,” Logan said, his tone sharp but not entirely unkind.

Alexandria’s face flushed with embarrassment and irritation. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Logan said, his eyes scanning her disheveled appearance. “You missed chemistry. It’s not like you to just skip out.”

She shrugged, trying to ignore the sting of his words. “I was working on something else. I didn’t mean to—” She trailed off, her head feeling light. But she was able to brush it off as best as she could to seem normal.

Usually after not sleeping HYDRA would give her some sedatives and put her out for a few days before repeating the process.

Just because she was in a specialized cell doesn’t mean she could sleep. In fact, she suspected that sometimes they toyed with her and shut off the power in her cell so she would see everyone’s dreams.

Those sedatives they gave her were her version of candy. She would have done, and did do anything for those sedatives.

Logan’s expression didn’t soften as he surveyed the scene. “Look, Alexandria, you’ve got to get your act together. Missing classes is not an option, especially when you’re already struggling.”

“I know,” she snapped back, her tone defensive. “I lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. “It better not. If you’re falling behind, that’s on you. I’m here to help, but I can’t do everything.”

Alexandria bit her lip, trying to quell the irritation bubbling inside her. She knew he had a point, but it didn’t make his bluntness any easier to handle. “What do you want me to do about it? I’ll catch up.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got extra help after school, remember? And I’d suggest you use it. I’m not going to baby you through this.”

She glanced at the clock on her desk, noting the time. “Right. I’ll be there. Just—” She stopped herself, unsure how to finish. Her usual responses felt inadequate, almost childish in the face of his gruff demeanor. And it didn’t help that she had to use her hand to cover up a yawn.

Logan seemed to sense her struggle, though his expression remained stern. “You’re not the only one with problems. But the world doesn’t stop spinning because you’re tired or overwhelmed. You need to figure out how to handle it.”

Alexandria nodded, feeling a mix of frustration and acceptance. “I get it. I’ll do better.”

Logan gave a curt nod and turned to leave, but not before casting one last, assessing look over his shoulder. “Make sure you do. I’m not going to keep reminding you.”

He left her room as she looked around. Guess she was going to have to wear the clothes she wore yesterday to make it to Ms. Frost’s class before she’s late.

---

By the time algebra was done and she had got to English with Ororo, she was more exhausted than when she woke up.

She hates even acknowledging that she needs something, let alone something as simple as sleep, but she was going to have to deal with. There were so many people in this mansion, closing her eyes and getting sleep would be impossible. It was like being a radio station with too many inputs.

Alexandria remembers Scott mentioning something about Guinness World Records. She wondered what the record was and if she had possibly beaten it.

English with Storm went by faster than she thought, and before she knew it, it was lunchtime. Jean, Scott, and Kitty were at their usual spots, and Alexandria quickly took her seat, trying to appear as normal as possible despite her exhaustion.

“Hey, Alexandria!” Jean greeted with a smile. “You look like you could use a nap.”

She gave a small smile, “maybe.”

Jean raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “You should take it easy if you can. You’ve been running on fumes.”

Kitty nodded in agreement. “Yeah, no need to push yourself too hard. There’s no shame in taking a break.”

Alexandria shrugged, trying to brush off their concern. “I’ll manage. I’ve got stuff to do after school.”

“Extra help with Logan, right?” Scott asked, looking at her with a mix of sympathy and curiosity.

“Yeah,” Alexandria said, not really wanting to delve into the details. “I’ll be fine.”

They fell into a more casual conversation, discussing weekend plans and upcoming tests. Alexandria found herself drawn into the chatter, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she engaged with her friends. For a brief moment, the weight of her responsibilities seemed lighter.

They split up once again, Jean coming with her to their US History class.

Jean and Alexandria walked into their US History class, both of them looking like they had just come from a particularly intense discussion. Alexandria still felt the weight of exhaustion pressing on her shoulders, but she managed a small smile as she took her seat.

Logan was already at his desk, thumbing through a stack of papers. He glanced up as the students settled in, his eyes briefly meeting Alexandria’s. He didn’t say anything, just went back to his papers with that ever-present scowl. The usual tension hung in the air, thick and unspoken.

Jean slid into her seat next to Alexandria, giving her a sympathetic look. “You sure you’re okay? You look like you could fall asleep right here.”

Alexandria shrugged, trying to dismiss the concern. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Jean didn’t look convinced but let it go, turning her attention to Logan as he began his lecture. The topic of the day was the aftermath of the American Revolution, and Logan jumped right into it, his voice gruff and unyielding. He scribbled dates and names on the board, making quick, sharp notes as he spoke.

Alexandria tried to keep up, her mind struggling to focus. The material was dense, and her lack of sleep wasn’t helping. Every time she thought she was catching on, her attention would drift, and she’d have to refocus. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay engaged.

The class went on, and Alexandria found herself counting down the minutes until the bell rang. When it finally did, she packed up her things and glanced at Jean, who seemed to sense her exhaustion.

“Need any help with the material? I know Logan can be a bit much,” Jean offered.

Alexandria appreciated the gesture but shook her head. “I’ll manage. I’ve got the extra help session after school.”

Jean gave her a concerned look but didn’t press further. “Alright. Just remember to take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alexandria said, giving her a half-hearted smile. “I’ll be fine.”

After history, which was as hard as before, she headed to her last class of the day before meeting Logan. The hours dragged on, and by the time the final bell rang, Alexandria felt like she was running on empty.

She made her way to Logan’s office, her steps heavy with fatigue. When she arrived, she found Logan sitting behind his desk, his eyes focused on a pile of papers.

“On time,” Logan said without looking up. “Guess you’re not completely useless.”

Alexandria rolled her eyes but kept her tone even. “I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

Logan finally looked up, his expression as stern as ever. “We’re going to go over some of the material you missed. I’ve got a few readings for you to go through and some questions to answer. We’ll start with that and see where you’re at.”

He handed her a stack of papers, and Alexandria took them with a nod. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment further. He pulled out a chair and started going over the material with her, his explanations blunt and to the point. Alexandria struggled to keep up, her exhaustion making it hard to focus. But she tried her best, determined not to let her fatigue get in the way of her progress.

As the session went on, Logan’s tone remained gruff, but there was a noticeable shift in his demeanor. He was less harsh than usual, focusing more on helping her understand the material rather than just berating her for not knowing it.

After an hour, Alexandria looked up from her notes, her eyes tired but determined. “I think I’m starting to get it. This stuff is just… a lot.”

Logan nodded, giving her a brief, approving look. “Yeah, it is. But you’re getting there. Just keep working at it.”

Alexandria nodded, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. “Thanks for the help.”

Logan gave a curt nod. “Don’t mention it. Just make sure you don’t fall behind again.”

As she packed up her things and headed for the door, Alexandria couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The extra help session had been tough, but it had also been a step in the right direction. She was starting to understand the material better, and that gave her a glimmer of hope.

---

A week later

Alexandria learned a way to study better. Since she wasn’t good at reading in English, she found videos online, thanks to Scott’s suggestion, of Russian people talking about algebra, chemistry, and even US History which was surprising.

She still hadn’t gotten any sleep, which meant she passed her previous record and was at 3 weeks and 4 days of no sleep.

But Scott put her onto coffee. Or rather, she tried plain black coffee and didn’t like it, but Kitty and Jean suggested iced coffee which she enjoyed. Her favorite so far was an iced white chocolate mocha. The other thing Scott showed her was energy drinks.

So, thanks to the two new things she discovered, she hasn’t felt tired in days.

She even got a compliment from Ms. Frost about her algebra homework, saying that she did good. It wasn’t a lot, but it meant the world to Alexandria, which was a new feeling.

Alexandria was currently reading a Russian version of the book ‘Brave New World’, which she bought using Tony’s card.

She’s sure he won’t mind, hell, he’s Tony Stark, he’ll probably never notice.

Earlier tonight, Kitty, Jean, and Jubilee came over to her room to help her with some math for chemistry, and they put her onto a few musical artists.

So, at 3:45 am, she had her headphones on listening to a Taylor Swift song, humming along while doing a paper for Ororo’s English class, and drinking a pink can of Monster.

Logan, on the other hand, had noticed that Alexandria hadn’t come out late at night for her nightly smoke breaks for the past week. And while there was a small part of him that was glad she wasn’t smoking, she was eighteen after all, he couldn’t help but be curious as to how she had caught up in all of her subjects.

Even Emma had made a small comment about how she was impressed how Alexandria seemed to have learned all the material she’d taught and more. She had only come by once for after hours and seemed to be doing fine in all of her work in his class as well.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he walked down the quiet hallways to her room, a warm light shining underneath the door.

He knocked lightly and got no response. Logan pushed the door open a crack, peering into Alexandria's dimly lit room. The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated her focused face, framed by large headphones.

She was hunched over a spiral notebook, her pen scribbling furiously as a faint melody played through her headphones. The energy drink on her desk was half-empty, a pink can with a flashy design that contrasted sharply with the starkness of her surroundings.

Logan sighed softly, his curiosity overcoming his usual gruffness. He knocked again, a bit louder this time. "Alexandria."

She barely flinched, her concentration unwavering. Logan knocked harder, the sound finally penetrating the bubble of her focus. Alexandria looked up, pulling one headphone off her ear and squinting at the doorway. Her expression shifted from confusion to mild irritation.

"What?" she said, her voice tired but sharp.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "What are you still doing up? It's three-forty-five in the morning."

She sighed and took off her other headphone, rubbing her eyes. "Working on some assignments.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to the energy drink and then back to Alexandria. "I thought you were supposed to be resting. You haven’t been out for your usual smoke breaks lately."

Alexandria shrugged, a gesture that seemed half-embarrassed, half-defiant. "I don’t need them anymore."

Logan raised an eyebrow, more intrigued than he cared to admit. "And why's that? You’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard. What's with all the late-night studying?"

"It's not just studying. I’ve got a lot to catch up on," she said, her tone defensive. "And the coffee and energy drinks help. I’m getting through it."

Logan’s expression softened slightly, though he tried to keep it hidden behind his usual scowl. "You've been doing well in class, I’ve noticed. Emma mentioned you’ve been on top of the material. Still, burning the candle at both ends isn't sustainable."

Her brows furrowed, that wasn’t a phrase she had heard before. “What does that mean? Is that a…” she grabbed a different notebook on her desk, flipping through the pages, “an idiom?”

“Hell, if I know kid, it’s just a saying.”

Logan's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Alexandria flip through her notebook. He could see the strain in her posture, the exhaustion she was trying to mask with her intensity. He wasn’t exactly the nurturing type, but seeing her push herself so hard without any apparent concern for her well-being did stir something in him.

“You know,” he said, shifting his weight, “there’s a limit to how much caffeine and energy drinks can do. Your body needs more than just stimulants to keep going.”

Alexandria gave him a skeptical look, her fingers tapping impatiently on the edge of her desk. “I’m fine. I’ve managed this far. Why are you so interested, anyway?”

Logan shrugged, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. “Just curious. You’re doing better in class, but I’m not about to ignore you turning into a caffeine-fueled night owl. It’s my job to make sure you’re not just learning the material but also taking care of yourself.”

“Right,” Alexandria said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because you’re such a model of self-care.”

Logan smirked. “Don’t mistake me for a role model. I’ve got my own issues. But if I can get you to not collapse from overwork, maybe I’ll sleep a little easier.”

Alexandria sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m just trying to catch up. I know it’s not healthy, but I don’t have a choice right now.”

Logan tilted his head, studying her. “Look, kid, you can push yourself to the brink, but at some point, your body’s gonna say enough. You might be able to keep going for a while, but eventually, it’ll catch up with you.”

She rubbed her face, clearly fatigued but trying to stay alert. “I can’t sleep.” She finally admitted.

He snorted, “well, that’s obvious.”

Alexandria didn’t want to add on and tell him it was because of her powers. So, she let him think that it was just pure determination to do better.

Though that sounded fucking stupid. She wasn’t some do-gooder like Captain America. Wasn’t always trying to get everyone to smile. In fact, she wanted to punch his perfect face and teeth to make him look at least a little messed up.

Logan’s gaze lingered on her, his expression a mix of skepticism and concern. “Listen, Alexandria,” he said gruffly, “if you’re not gonna listen to me, at least listen to your own body. You’re pushing yourself too hard, and it’s gonna catch up with you sooner or later.”

“Yeah, well,” Alexandria said, trying to muster a nonchalant shrug despite her exhaustion, “I don’t exactly have a choice. I need to get this stuff done. It’s not like anyone’s gonna wait for me to catch up.”

Logan’s eyes softened a fraction, though he quickly masked it with his usual gruff demeanor. “I get it. But that doesn’t mean you should drive yourself into the ground. You might think you’re managing, but one day, you’re gonna crash.”

Alexandria looked down at her notebook, a frown tugging at her lips. “I know. I just… I don’t really know how to stop.”

“Maybe you don’t need to stop entirely,” Logan said, crossing his arms. “But you should at least try to find some balance. Even if it’s just a few hours of sleep a night. You’re not a machine.”

She sighed, her frustration evident. “It’s not that simple. I can’t just shut it off. And it’s not like I have anyone to help me with this.”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck, his expression thoughtful. “Look, I’m not saying you have to figure this out alone. If you need help, you can ask. But maybe start by taking a break now and then. Just to recharge, even if it’s for a short while.”

“I’ll think about it,” Alexandria said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “But for now, I’ve got a lot to get through.”

Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned to leave. “Alright. But don’t ignore what I said. It’s not just about doing well in class. It’s about keeping yourself in one piece.”

Alexandria watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. She knew he had a point, but she wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge it yet. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly four in the morning.

With a sigh, she turned her attention back to her work, though Logan’s words echoed in her mind. Maybe she was pushing herself too hard. Maybe it was time to reconsider her approach, even if just a little.

The next day, Alexandria found herself in the cafeteria with Jean, Scott, and Kitty again. Her fatigue was still there, but she was trying to keep up appearances.

“Hey, Alexandria,” Kitty greeted her, her usual enthusiasm tempered with concern. “How’s the studying going?”

“It’s going,” Alexandria replied, taking a sip of her iced white chocolate mocha. “Just trying to keep up.”

Jean gave her a sympathetic look. “You’re still looking pretty tired. Maybe you should consider taking a break.”

“Not really an option right now,” Alexandria said, trying to keep the conversation light. “But thanks for the concern.”

Scott and Kitty exchanged glances but didn’t push further. Instead, the conversation shifted to weekend plans and upcoming events. Alexandria tried to engage, but her mind kept drifting back to her work and Logan’s words.

After lunch, she had a few more classes, and by the time the day ended, she was ready to collapse. But she had promised herself she’d make progress, so she headed back to her room, determined to keep going.

“Sashulya.” A voice sang from behind her. It was a nickname buried deep within her memories. She remembers her mother calling her that, a nickname only she was supposed to say.

“Sashulya, come.” The voice came from a woman wearing a large coat of sorts, draping over onto the hardwood floor.

Alexandria followed, holding her folders to her chest. “Mama has something for you.” She followed the woman to the front doors of the school. The hooded figure turned around, but she couldn’t see her face. It was black, maybe a shadow from the hood.

“Mama is that you? They killed you.” Alexandria finally spoke. It felt almost freeing to speak in Russian again.

The hooded figure opened the door to the school, the sun was setting, casting a pastel glow around them. “Sashulya, everything will be fine. Come with me.”

Alexandra smiled softly at the figure and stepped closer. As soon as she did the figure changed.

“Your mommy is dead, child. Don’t cry. We will take care of you.” The HYDRA scientist, the first one she ever saw appeared in front of her, holding that large needle she hated with a passion.

She suddenly felt cold, “Where is she? Where are they?”

“Dead. Now let's go. The more you resist, the more it hurts, Alexandria.” The scientist tilted her head, “They'll give you a sedative. Makes my job a lot easier.”

Alexandria felt a sting at the back of her head, but it reality it came from her falling down onto the cement, rain pouring heavily around her. “Tili tili bom. zakroy glaza seychas. Kto-to khodit vozle doma. I stuchit v dver'. Tili tili bom.” She felt someone brush hair off her forehead,“nochnyye ptitsy shchebechut. On vnutri doma. V gosti k tem, kto ne mozhet usnut'. On khodit. On priblizhayetsya... blizhe.”

The lullaby brought up old memories, it was the lullaby her mom used to sing to her, because even when she was 3 years old, she had trouble sleeping. That song always seemed to lure her to sleep.

Even though the rain was pouring down around the school, Alexandria fell asleep easily.

The rain, the memory of her mother’s lullaby, and the figure of the HYDRA scientist blurred into a surreal mix that dragged her deeper into unconsciousness.

She hadn’t felt this kind of exhaustion in a long time.

---

Logan found her hours later. The rain had soaked her through, her hair plastered to her face, and her clothes clinging to her frame. She was shivering, her lips slightly parted as she mumbled something incoherent, still half-caught in whatever nightmare had gripped her.

"Kid," Logan growled as he crouched down beside her. He gave her shoulder a rough shake. "Wake up."

Alexandria didn’t respond. Her eyes twitched under her closed lids, and she muttered something in Russian. Logan’s brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of the words, but they were too garbled, too distant.

"Damn it," Logan muttered under his breath. He scooped her up with surprising gentleness, cradling her limp form against his chest. "What the hell are you doin' to yourself, kid?"

Her head lolled against his shoulder, and Logan felt a strange pang of concern. It wasn’t like him to worry about anyone, especially a kid like her, but there was something about the way she’d been pushing herself that gnawed at him.

He carried her back to the mansion, the rain still pouring down around them. By the time he reached the front doors, he was drenched too, but he hardly noticed. His focus was on Alexandria and the way her breath hitched every now and then, like she was stuck in the throes of a bad dream.

"Hank," Logan barked as he pushed through the front doors. "I need ya!"

The sound of Logan’s gruff voice echoed through the halls of the mansion, alerting anyone within earshot that something serious was going down. He didn’t waste time waiting for a response, striding purposefully down the corridor, Alexandria’s limp form cradled in his arms.

Hank appeared in the doorway to his lab, he took one look at Logan and the girl he was carrying and immediately shifted into action mode.

"What happened?" Hank asked, his voice calm but tinged with concern as he stepped aside to let Logan in.

Logan grunted, his face etched with frustration. "Found her outside, unconscious in the rain. She's been pushing herself way too hard. Barely slept in weeks, if at all."

Hank's brow furrowed as he quickly cleared a space on one of the examination tables. "Lay her down here."

Logan carefully placed Alexandria on the table, her soaked clothes clinging to her body. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow and irregular. Hank immediately started checking her vitals, his fingers moving swiftly and expertly as he assessed her condition.

"Her heart rate is elevated," Hank murmured, more to himself than to Logan. "She's dehydrated, and her temperature is dropping. How long has she been like this?"

Logan crossed his arms, watching Hank work with a tense expression. "She's been running on fumes for at least three weeks, maybe more. I told her to take it easy, but you know how stubborn she is."

Hank nodded, not taking his eyes off Alexandria. "I see. We'll need to get her warmed up and stabilized first. Then we can address the underlying issue." He glanced at Logan, his blue eyes sharp. "She's been pushing herself to stay awake, hasn't she?"

"Yeah," Logan replied, his voice laced with frustration. "Said she can’t sleep. Didn’t go into detail, but it’s clear something’s been messin’ with her."

Hank frowned, his mind already racing with possibilities. "If she's been unable to sleep for that long, it could be more than just physical exhaustion. We might be dealing with a psychological or even a neurological issue."

"Get her fixed up, Hank," Logan said, his tone gruff but underlying it was a note of genuine concern. "She needs help, but I’m not the one to give it to her."

Hank nodded, his focus returning to Alexandria as he prepared to administer a sedative to help her body relax. "I'll do what I can, Logan. But if she's been pushing herself to this point, there may be more going on than we realize."

As Hank worked to stabilize Alexandria, her breathing started to even out, and her shivering slowly subsided as her body began to warm up. Logan watched, his expression hardening as he thought about what Alexandria had been through. He wasn’t one to get emotionally involved, but seeing the kid in this state stirred something deep within him—a mix of anger at her stubbornness and a grudging respect for her resilience.

After a few minutes, Hank spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "Logan, we need to figure out what’s causing this. If it’s a neurological issue, it could be dangerous if left untreated."

Logan nodded, his jaw clenched. "Got any ideas?"

Hank hesitated for a moment, then said, "I'll need to consult with Charles. If there’s something more complex going on, like interference with her mind or dreams, he might be able to help. We also might need to reach out to someone with expertise in neurological conditions."

Logan frowned. "You think it's somethin' like that?"

Hank met Logan’s gaze, his expression serious. "It’s possible. If she’s been avoiding sleep because of nightmares or intrusive thoughts, it could be related to her powers—or something else entirely. We need to investigate all possibilities."

Logan didn’t like the sound of that. He knew Alexandria was tough, but if there was something messing with her mind, they needed to handle it carefully. "Alright," he grunted. "Get Charles and do what you gotta do."

Hank nodded, already reaching for his communicator. "I'll get Charles down here. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to keep her stable."

As Hank sent the message to Charles Xavier, Logan lingered by Alexandria’s side, his usual tough exterior cracking just a bit as he looked down at her. She was a fighter—he could see that—but even the toughest fighters needed help sometimes. He just hoped they could get to the bottom of this before it was too late.

---

Charles arrived within minutes, his expression calm but alert as he wheeled into the lab. "Hank, Logan," he greeted them, his eyes immediately going to Alexandria. "What happened?"

Logan gave a brief rundown of the situation, his voice clipped. "She’s been pushing herself to stay awake, and now she’s out cold. Hank thinks it might be more than just physical exhaustion."

Charles nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I see. If she's been avoiding sleep, it’s possible that her mind is reacting to some form of trauma or external influence. I’ll need to delve into her thoughts to see if I can determine what’s causing this."

Hank stepped back to give Charles room. "I've stabilized her physically, but if there's something affecting her mind, we’ll need to address it quickly."

Charles closed his eyes, reaching out with his telepathic abilities to gently probe Alexandria's mind. He moved carefully, not wanting to cause any further distress. As he delved deeper, he encountered a chaotic swirl of emotions, memories, and fragments of dreams—some of them dark and unsettling.

After a few moments, Charles opened his eyes, his expression grave. "There’s significant mental strain here. She’s been suppressing her ability to rest due to a fear of her own dreams—or rather, the dreams of others. Her telepathic abilities are interfering with her sleep, causing her to experience the dreams of those around her."

Logan’s frown deepened. "So she’s been seein’ other people’s dreams instead of her own?"

"Yes," Charles confirmed. "It’s likely that her powers have become more sensitive, perhaps due to stress or recent trauma. She’s been overwhelmed by the influx of other people's subconscious thoughts, making it impossible for her to rest."

Hank's eyes widened slightly. "If she's been experiencing the dreams of others, that could explain why she's been so desperate to stay awake. It would be incredibly disorienting and exhausting."

Logan ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "So what do we do about it?"

Charles looked at Hank, then back at Logan. "We need to block the telepathic interference so she can get the rest she needs. Hank, I suggest you work on a device that can shield her mind from external influences while she sleeps. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to calm her mind and help her enter a restful state."

Hank nodded, already formulating a plan in his mind. "I can modify a version of the telepathic inhibitors we’ve used before. It might take some time, but I can create a device that will allow her to sleep without being affected by the dreams of others."

Logan exhaled, relieved that they had a plan. "Alright. Do it."

Charles turned his attention back to Alexandria, his expression softening. "I’ll begin now. Logan, would you mind staying with her? Your presence might help keep her grounded."

Logan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I’ll stay."

As Charles began his telepathic work, Logan pulled up a chair beside the table and settled in. He wasn’t the comforting type, but if his presence could help in any way, he’d do it. He owed it to the kid, after all she’d been through.

For the next few hours, Logan watched as Charles and Hank worked tirelessly to help Alexandria. Charles used his telepathic abilities to calm her mind, creating a mental barrier to keep out the intrusive dreams. Meanwhile, Hank tinkered with various devices, modifying and fine-tuning them to ensure they would work as intended.

Finally, as dawn began to break, Hank approached Logan with a small device in hand. "This should do it," he said, holding up what looked like a sleek headband with several intricate components embedded in it. "It’s designed to block out telepathic interference while allowing her to enter a normal sleep cycle."

Logan eyed the device skeptically. "You sure it’ll work?"

Hank nodded confidently. "It’s based on existing technology, but I’ve made some modifications to suit her specific needs. Once we put this on her, she should be able to sleep without being affected by the dreams of others."

Logan sighed, his fatigue starting to catch up with him. "Alright. Let’s give it a shot."

Hank carefully placed the device on Alexandria’s head, adjusting it to fit snugly. Charles, who had been monitoring her mind, nodded in approval. "It’s working. Her mind is starting to settle into a normal sleep pattern."

Logan watched as Alexandria’s breathing evened out, her expression relaxing for the first time in days. She looked peaceful, almost as if she was finally finding the rest she so desperately needed. The tension in the lab seemed to ease slightly with the sight of her calm.

Charles looked over at Logan, his expression softening. "It seems the device is working as intended. Her mind is starting to settle."

Logan nodded, though his eyes remained focused on Alexandria. "Yeah. She looks like she might actually get some real sleep for once."

Hank, busy with the final tweaks to the device, glanced up. "She needed it. The lack of sleep was probably making her hallucinate. It’s a miracle she was still functional."

Charles turned to Logan, a thoughtful look on his face. "You stayed with her the entire time. That’s not like you."

Logan shrugged, his expression a mix of irritation and fatigue. "She’s a kid who’s been through hell. Didn’t want to leave her alone."

Charles nodded, understanding but keeping his comments to himself. "Well, it’s good you were here. Sometimes, people need more than just physical care—they need reassurance."

Logan grunted in response and stood up, stretching his stiff muscles. "Right. Guess I’ll leave you guys to it."

Hank looked up from his equipment. "Logan, you should probably get some rest yourself. You’ve been working hard too."

Logan gave a curt nod. "Yeah, I’ll grab a nap. Let me know if she wakes up or if you need anything."

As he made his way out of the lab, Charles’s voice followed him. "Thank you, Logan."

Logan didn’t turn back, just gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Whatever."

---

When Alexandria woke up hours later, the first thing she noticed without even opening her eyes was a metal headband around her head.

Immediately she started to panic.

She was back at HYDRA, and they were going to punish her with electroshock. Track her brainwaves while doing it.

Hank noticed her waking up and in a hazy, frantic movement, she grabbed a nearby screwdriver and jabbed it into his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Logan was in his quarters, trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep. He barely managed to drift off when his communicator buzzed. He groaned, rolling over and picking it up.

"Logan," came Hank’s voice, slightly distorted through the device. "Alexandria’s waking up. You might want to come back to the lab." Logan heard a clanking sound coming from Hank’s side. “Now.”

Logan sat up immediately, throwing on a shirt and heading back to the lab. The fatigue from his earlier shift was still heavy on him, but he pushed through, knowing Alexandria’s well-being was more important.

She tried to pull off the headband from her head, but her hands were far too shaky to accomplish that goal. And for some reason, she was freezing. Alexandria was used to the cold, thanks to the HYDRA base being in snowy Russia.

The cold was biting, and her teeth chattered despite the warmth of the room. Her heart raced, the memories of her captivity with HYDRA clouding her mind.

“Hey, easy,” Logan’s voice cut through the fog of her panic. He entered the lab, his expression a mix of irritation and concern. “Put that down. It’s not what you think.”

Alexandria’s eyes darted around, trying to piece together the situation. Her gaze locked onto Logan, and she could barely make out his gruff features. The familiar face was not comforting; it was just another reminder of how out of control everything felt.

Hank, wincing from the screwdriver jab, was already on his feet, his eyes shifting between Alexandria and Logan. “She’s disoriented. We need to calm her down.”

Logan approached slowly, keeping his hands visible. “Kid, listen. You’re not in HYDRA. You’re safe here. That headband is just to help you sleep without those... dreams messing with you.”

Alexandria’s breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. She tried to sit up, but her body felt heavy and uncooperative. “No... not safe... they’re coming for me...”

Logan sighed, his patience wearing thin. “It’s not them. No one’s coming for you. You’re at the mansion. Hank’s here to help.”

Hank took a cautious step forward, his demeanor calm but his voice firm. “Alexandria, I need you to listen to me. You’re in a safe place. The headband is to block out any external telepathic influences. It’s helping you get the rest you need.”

Alexandria’s gaze flicked to Hank, then back to Logan. Her mind was a whirlwind of memories and confusion. “But... I...”

Logan’s tone softened, “I know it’s hard to believe right now, but you gotta trust us. We’re trying to help you. You need to calm down.”

Alexandria’s hands trembled as she struggled to push the headband away, her vision blurring with tears. “I don’t want this... I don’t want their dreams...”

Logan took a deep breath, his frustration giving way to a rare moment of empathy. “I get it. I really do. But this is the only way for you to get some damn rest. You can’t keep going like this.”

The sound of the door opening caught their attention. Charles wheeled in, his expression serene yet serious. “How is she?”

Hank, still nursing his shoulder, looked over. “She’s awake and disoriented. She’s been pushing herself too hard, and now she’s struggling to accept the help we’re offering.”

Charles nodded, approaching Alexandria with a gentle presence. “Alexandria, I need you to focus on me. You’re safe, and we’re here to help you. Can you try to calm down and listen to what we’re saying?”

Alexandria’s eyes met Charles’s, and she could see the sincerity in his gaze. It was hard to ignore, despite the whirlwind of her emotions. Slowly, she began to ease her grip on the headband, though she still trembled.

Charles continued in a soothing tone. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable and can get some restful sleep. This headband is a part of that process. It’s not a punishment or a trap. It’s a tool to help you recover.”

Logan stood by, his arms crossed, watching Alexandria with a mix of annoyance and concern. He was used to dealing with his own issues but seeing her like this stirred something different in him. “Look, you don’t gotta like it. Just try to relax, alright? We’re on your side.”

Alexandria’s breaths began to slow, her mind still foggy but gradually clearing. She hated the headband on her head, hated the fact that she felt like a lab experiment once again being surrounded by and all-white room and medical equipment.

Charles watched her with a soft expression, hoping to convey reassurance despite the sterile environment. "You're doing well, Alexandria. Just focus on calming down. We’re not here to hurt you."

Alexandria’s eyes met his, though her expression remained guarded. "Why... why are you doing this?"

Charles took a moment before answering, his voice calm. "We’re trying to help you. The headband is designed to block out any telepathic interference so you can sleep without being disturbed."

She shook her head slightly, her eyes still darting around the room. “I don’t want to be a burden...”

“You’re not a burden,” Charles said gently. “You’re part of this team, and we want to make sure you’re healthy. If you don’t get proper rest, it’s going to make everything worse.”

“Listen, kid. We don’t do this for fun. You’re here because you needed help. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll start feeling better."

Alexandria looked at Logan, her expression a mix of wariness and frustration. “Why do you even care?”

Logan’s face hardened, though there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. “I don’t do this for everyone. But you’re pushing yourself too hard, and it’s not gonna do you any good.”

Hank, having finished tending to his shoulder, approached the table with a fresh gauze pad. “I need to tend to this wound,” he said, gesturing to his shoulder. “We’ll be here to keep an eye on you while you adjust.”

Alexandria nodded, though her body was still tense. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, and she was shivering despite the warmth of the room.

“Hey, we need to get you warmed up,” Hank said, moving toward a cabinet to fetch some blankets. “Logan, can you help me with this?”

Logan, who had been standing by with his arms crossed, grunted in response. He moved closer to the examination table, his eyes scanning Alexandria’s shivering form. “You alright, kid?” he asked, his voice gruff but laced with concern.

Alexandria looked up at him, her expression a mix of fear and exhaustion. “I’m cold...”

“We’re gonna fix that,” Logan said, grabbing a blanket from Hank and draping it over Alexandria’s shivering shoulders. “Just try to relax.”

Hank quickly followed suit, adding more blankets to ensure she was adequately covered. “It’s important that we keep you warm while you adjust to the device.”

Alexandria’s gaze flickered between Logan and Hank, her eyes still filled with unease. “How... how long do I have to wear this?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Hank offered a reassuring smile, though it was clear he was still concerned. “Just until we’re sure your mind is calm and stable. It might take a bit for you to get used to it.”

Charles, still monitoring her condition, spoke up gently. “Alexandria, the headband is designed to block out the telepathic interference you’ve been experiencing. It will help you get the sleep you need without being disturbed.”

She nodded in response before looking over at Hank, “can we make it smaller?” she asked quietly. “I… don’t like the headband.”

Hank gave another reassuring smile, “of course. I can have it done by the time you wake up.”

Alexandria nodded, though her eyes remained wary. The blankets were warm and comforting, but she still shivered from the cold that seemed to seep into her bones.

“Try to relax,” Hank said as he finished adjusting the blankets around her. “It’s going to be alright.”

Alexandria’s eyes fluttered shut, her exhaustion winning over her anxiety. Charles gave a final nod of reassurance before stepping back to monitor her condition from a distance.

Logan, having witnessed the entire ordeal, leaned against a counter, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “You sure this is gonna work?” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Hank glanced over. “It’s our best shot. We’ve got to get her mind settled and give her a break from all this telepathic noise.”

Logan grunted, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Just hope it doesn’t take too long. We’ve all been running on empty lately.”

Charles wheeled closer, his expression serious. “We need to be patient. Alexandria’s been through a lot. The sooner she can rest, the sooner she’ll start to recover.”

Logan sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Just wish she’d stop makin’ things harder on herself.”

---

A few hours later, Alexandria began to stir. The headband was still on her head, but it felt less intrusive now that she was used to it. Her breathing was steadier, and she was no longer shivering.

“Hey, kid,” Logan’s voice broke through her haze as he approached. “How’re you feelin’?”

Alexandria’s eyes opened slowly, meeting his gaze. “Better,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse. “The cold is gone.”

Logan nodded, looking around the lab. “Good. Hank said he’s workin’ on makin’ that headband smaller for you.”

Alexandria gave a slight nod. “Thank you.”

Logan grunted. “Don’t mention it. You were givin’ us a scare. Figured I’d check in.”

She managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I didn’t mean to be a burden.”

Logan’s expression softened just a bit. “You’re not a burden. Just try to keep it together, alright? We’re all in this mess together.”

“Yeah,” Alexandria said, her voice still weak. “I’ll try.”

Charles, who had been observing quietly, spoke up. “Alexandria, you’ve made great progress. We’ll continue to monitor your condition, but for now, try to get as much rest as you can.”

Alexandria nodded, closing her eyes again. “I’ll do my best.”

[luna-rainbow]

Amygdala and the super soldier serum

I read this interesting meta about Steve's brain changes post-serum, specifically this bit:

Steve’s brain is smarter and faster, the neurons have a longer life span, the hippocampus — that’s your memory storage — is nice and healthy; whatever. But then they said that the part of Steve’s brain that increased the most in mass and synaptogenesis was the amygdala.

So I had to be a nerd and crack open a Neuroanatomy textbook. Accordingly, the amygdala forms part of the limbic system (which I've briefly talked about in another meta), one of the key parts of the brain that governs memory, emotions, and by extension, behaviour. It serves a role not only in creating and regulating emotions, but also in recognising facial and verbal cues for emotions.

Onward for super soldier angst!(?)

Neuroanatomy is still an evolving field so our understanding of amygdala function is still immature. There are multiple areas to the amygdala, but the main ones are:

Basolateral: this is the largest part of the amygdala and receives information from higher-order sensory cortical areas and the association cortex. In plain English, this area links sensory input (e.g. music, objects, etc) with particular emotions. I think this is what the original meta was describing -- a simple stimulus could be so much more intense for Steve (and presumably for other super soldiers too) because it would bring on an emotional response. The pure joy of a tasting vanilla, the melancholy of the smell of rain, the nostalgia of old music, the grief of seeing the Howlies' pictures. And because this area draws from the association cortex as well, I would presume the more he has a particular emotional response to a stimulus, the more it becomes reinforced -- so going to the museum to see Bucky and the Howlies again and again reinforces the sense of grief he associates with them...and that's what stopped him in his tracks when he saw Bucky with his mask off.

Central: this area is key in mediating an emotional response, and both receives and sends information to the autonomic system, which controls things like heart rate/blood pressure/breathing rate/"gut feelings". It plays a key role in fear conditioning. It forms a central part of the rewards pathway, meaning it often serves a role in addiction and (on the flip side) depression. It also forms part of the pain regulation pathways. This may mean Steve has a strong physiological response to stimuli he associates with threats, regardless of whether or not he can control his own emotional response, i.e. even though he is used to explosions and gunshots and he knows, rationally, he can deal with them, this area might still kicks his heart rate and blood pressure up and make him feel dread. This makes me wonder whether the same amygdala development applies to the other super soldiers. For example, the Siberian Winter Soldiers had a very heightened fight-or-flight response, and similarly with Walker. It also begs the question of whether the heightened fear and reward pathways were used for Bucky's conditioning. E.g. Bucky's look of terror when he was trapped under the beam on the Helicarrier, but after Steve freed him, he was still intent on finishing the mission, because he was conditioned to think not finishing the mission was worse than dying. A lot of headcanons also involve Bucky being given drugs of addiction by Hydra -- and while I think the neuroanatomy of addiction is still not well understood, this could mean that quitting those drugs are more difficult for super soldiers once they became dependent on them. (Also, my headcanon is that the other super soldiers get a kick out of hurting people and post-serum, that reward pathway goes into overdrive and it becomes an addictive action for them.) And also, another area that is still developing, the pain regulation pathway being affected could also mean either more or less chronic pain issues, and likely a different emotional response to pain.

Basomedial nucleus: I thought I'd throw this in here because even though it wasn't mentioned in the neuroanatomy book, it is mentioned in this article. This area is thought to have a role in motivational behaviours under the influence of sex hormones, and in combination with the olfactory (sense of smell) processing being part of the amygdala structure and this apparently being a big factor in animal sexual behaviours...make of that what you will, A/B/O fic writers!

I think most places where I've read about the amygdala points to it being a primal center for emotions, i.e. the emotions that are key to our survival, and fear being a major part of it, triggering the fight-or-flight response. I think this means -- and I think it's fairly well-backed by canon -- that super soldiers innately have a heightened response to threatening stimuli, and because most of them are skilled, enhanced and trained, they respond to threat with aggression.

What's key here is that emotional regulation is done by higher centers outside the amygdala (frontal cortex). What that means is that the person has to make a conscious, cognitive effort to override their instincts for aggression. I think it says a lot about Steve and Bucky that they do keep a handle on their emotions, despite the over-development of their amygdala -- I think it also is in keeping with headcanons about Steve secretly having a huge anxiety problem under his stoic demeanour. We never see Steve lashing out, and the only time we see Bucky lashing out was when he got flashbacks to his arm being amputated. In a way...it's even more amazing that Bucky is as placid as he is, because despite having his memories wiped and therefore being only able to depend on primal emotions to guide him, he still has enough cognitive control to control his fears.

I also wanted to briefly address the "bleeding heart" part of the original meta (which was kinda what prompted this dive down the rabbit hole). As mentioned above, amygdala deals with primal emotions like joy and fear and anger, while some of the other "emotions" listed in the meta - sympathy and guilt and sense of duty and altruism - they are high level cognitions. I am inclined to think that Steve's empathy didn't change after the serum -- he just remained the same empathetic person he always was (although he might feel the emotions more keenly), which helped him be a better super soldier than the Winter Soldiers and Walker, and probably helped him keep a handle on the instinctive aggression.

Lastly, I just wanted to touch on grief. The neuroanatomy of grief is complex, and involves many different networks of emotions, autonomic responses, memory, and sensory processing. This study is interesting in that it identifies that increased functional connections in the amygdala is associated with a more protracted grief response and development of depressive symptoms. So yes...it is quite possible that Steve's more developed amygdala (and Bucky's too, but we shan't talk about The Movie that Does Not Exist) means he feels sadness more intensely, for longer, and the abnormal reward pathways might send him down a depressive or self-destructive spiral where his perceived reward is by doing something self-sacrificing.

One last thing (I promise this is final) the amygdala is also involved in REM sleep, aka dreaming. Theories are varied, but there is thought that being the fear/stress centre, the amygdala likely has a major role in generating nightmares.

Now put that together with two super soldiers living with PTSD and one canonically waking up from a nightmare...

[oluka]

Tony and transhumanism

Tony Stark mentions in Captain Marvel: Dark Tempest (2023) #3.

Setting aside the “even HE knows what hands-off means”, it's interesting to me that when faced with a humanoid-machine blend, Carol's mind goes to Tony. She says that Tony was the original transhuman, and well, he maybe wasn't the first in the marvel universe, but he got his first synthetic heart in Iron Man #19 (back in 1969!), and transhumanism has been a part of his story arc for a long time. Some examples on the top of my mind (I know there are more, this is not an exhaustive list):

-When Tony had an implant in his mind to remotely control the armour while he was paralyzed in volume 1.

-His fight with the sentient armour in volume 3, and the end of it, when it gave him its heart (Iron Man vol.3 #30). And fully replaced Tony's heart with its own "mechanical bio-physiology". An artificial heart that was still implanting itself into Tony and fixing his broken ribs in issue 31 (body horror much??).

-Extremis, of course, which to me is the height of Tony's path to transhumanism. It's one of the two logical conclusions to his search to always perfect Iron Man and himself. Either make his body machine, or forgo the body entirely (looking at the three different Tony Stark AIs Tony has made). Extremis is especially good to me because of how he made himself the perfect blend of man and machine. Tony had until then always had recurring problems with his heart and other physical disabilities, and with Extremis he was finally past that "flaw". He was stronger, could heal, but more importantly, his mind was faster and better. I think he never came closer to erasing the line between Tony Stark and Iron Man than he did then. There was so much potential for this story beat, but Civil War and Dark Reign kind of ruined it. I really wish we could have had Extremis for longer, and really explore the classic "what makes one human" "man vs machine" and other transhumanist questions with Tony. Oh well. As an aside, it's interesting to me that Superior Iron Man decided to bring Extremis back. Clearly to him that was the next step of evolution, or in his words, what made him a god. If we push the analysis further, does this mean that regular Tony has developed an aversion to Extremis and what it entails? Maybe some left-over trauma from the Civil War and brain deletion?

-The repulsor node in Tony's chest after he was brought back. That controlled his brain. And also the bleeding edge armour that Tony casually put into his bone marrow. You know. Like one does.

-The fact that Tony apparently was experimenting on his biology and body and that that was the only reason Carol didn't kill him at the end of Civil War II. And then the fact that he managed to bring himself back to life and synthetize a new body.

-The Tony Stark AI that ran around during Secret Empire. Who made himself drunk, and also remembered Civil War somehow, and had all of Tony's character traits and regrets (see Secret Empire (2017) #6). I know it's probably an error on the writer's part, but I choose to believe that somehow this artificial version of Tony really remembers the Civil War. On top of AI Tony acting and thinking like the flesh and blood one, everyone around him really treated him like the "real" Tony. Hydra Steve even said that Tony downloaded his consciousness into the AI. Making it essentially Tony. I don't know where I'm going with this but I have Feelings about AI Tony.

-The whole mess of Tony Stark: Iron Man and Iron Man 2020 where Tony was wondering if he was just a soulless copy of the original dead Tony Stark (Which, weird that he now starts to worry about this after all his deaths and comas and whatnots), decided he was just an AI in an artificial body, and then with the help of his friends remade his body. Again. Also, he spoke with AI Tony for like five minutes and then AI Tony sacrificed himself. I am still mad about that.

Transhumanism is one of the most important beats in Tony's character, right alongside his quest to make the future better and his alcoholism. It's a facinating subject that I will never get enough of, especially not in relation to Tony, who for a very long time has dealt with physical disability, and whose mind and genius is maybe the one thing he can rely on and one of the rare things about himself that he is proud of.

Right now, Tony's just a regular man in a can again, but I really hope that we'll see more of his journey into transhumanism, because to me it's an essential part of his character. And done well, it's an excellent source for angst, too.

[white-rabbit-in-a-snow-storm]

Subject File

Name: Alice Reagan Alias: The White Rabbit Sex: F Age: 21 Species: Mutant Powers: Enhanced Physiology, Enhanced Agility, Speed, and Jump Height (Cybernetic Enhancements), and Healing Factor (Blood Consumption Required For Recovery), Animal (Rabbit) Transformation Physical Traits: Fangs, Small Stature, Albinism, Scar across mid-face Equipment: Bionic Legs, Gas Mask, Headgear, and Tracker and Control Chip

Handler: [TBD] Trigger Words: "White Rabbit, Fall, Blood, Shattered, Snow, Dance, Innocence, Killer, Lake, Orphan" (The Smell Of Blood Must Be Present) Specialty: Extortion, Extraction, Intelligence Gathering, Infiltration, and Surveillance

Mod File

Name: D. Age: 18+ Pronouns: Any Notes: Mod has anxiety and may not interact first. Mod is also in school and works, so there is no posting schedule -- it's a post-whenever-available sort of blog

About This OC: This is Alice! She's a new experiment and asset of HYDRA's, though they've been taking extra care of her since they lost the Winter Soldier and the Weapon X Program failed. She's not a child, but she's still pretty young and actually regresses to a child-like and sometimes even animalistic state of mind when disoriented or overwhelmed; so, they've given her a designated "caretaker" to care for and indoctrinate her while she's regressed.

To Note About This OC And Blog: I may or may not have made Alice to project onto the most. If I have an exceptionally bad day, so will Alice.

Side Blogs: @hydra-supreme-leader, @wildfire-of-hydra

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 8

summary: Charlotte deep dives into her backstory and all the dark, twisty parts. Bucky has flashbacks. It's getting angsty.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: another long one, I'm so sorry it took me so long! the next one is ALMOST done too so it'll come out super soon! thank you so much for reading!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_______________________________________

chapter aesthetic

In the quiet hum of the infirmary, the Avengers gathered outside Charlotte's room, concern etched on each face, She’d barely vacated the room for a week before landing back in the same place. The atmosphere was tense, the air heavy with unspoken worry. Benchmark testing had abruptly ended six hours earlier with Bucky emerging from the woods, Charlotte’s body draped across his arms. She hadn’t woken up yet. 

Tony paced back and forth in the laboratory, one room over from the infirmary. "This is absolutely unacceptable. We knew this could happen. Bruce, we let this happen."

"Tony,” Bruce sighed heavily. “We weighed the risks, she deserved freedom of choice, she insisted on competing. I’m sure she’d stand by her choice. We can’t sideline her based on a discovery we didn’t even give her the courtesy of telling her about."

“I’m sorry,” Natasha crossed the threshold into the lab, arms crossed. “Care to let the rest of us in on your little secret?” Steve and Bucky strode into the room behind her, looking equal parts concerned and angry. 

Sighing, Tony rubbed his jaw. “We…took a second look at her brain scan after she was released. Then a third. We found an…alteration.” He chanced a look at Bucky. “Courtesy of our friends at HYDRA.” 

“They tampered with her ability to self-regulate…” Bruce added sheepishly. “Her mind has been rewired, it’s like they took away her ability to govern her own physiological limits. Most people have mental limits, lines they can’t cross when their body needs to quit to save itself. They took that away from her. She, quite literally, doesn’t know when to quit.”

Nat leveled a pointed gaze at the two scientists. "And you just…let her compete with all of us today. What did you expect? You said yourself he doesn't know her limits, and now she's paying the price." She glanced back through the doorway, leading to the room where Charlotte still lie unconscious.

“We didn’t think it was our place to take away her autonomy.” Tony’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “Until we had enough information to give her and let her decide for herself what she wants to do, we decided to keep it to ourselves. Clearly we didn’t work fast enough.” 

“Clearly.” Bucky spoke for the first time, his gruff voice cutting through the room.

Steve’s brow furrowed in concern. "Whatever happened before, that’s in the past. We convinced her to come here and told her she’d be safe with us. We need to figure out a solution or our word means nothing."

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Look, we have some information. We pulled every single file we’ve extracted from HYDRA over the past decade and cross referenced it with the limited intel we have on Charlotte." He winced. “It’s not great.” 

Bruce interjected, "We're working on something, a way to regulate abilities without sidelining her completely. But it's complicated…and it’s far from ready."

Natasha's piercing gaze shifted from Tony to Bruce. "Complicated or not, we can't have her collapsing every time she pushes herself. We need a fix, and we need it now."

Steve stepped forward, taking charge. "Tony, Bruce, we appreciate the effort and the discretion, but we owe her all the information we have. Even if it’s incomplete. Ready or not, let her make her own choice. It’s what we all would want if we were in her position."

Bucky pushed off the wall, his face twisted in an expression between frustration and pain. He said nothing.

Tony nodded solemnly. "Fine. We'll expedite the process. But this is risky. It's experimental, and we can't guarantee—"

"We don't have time for guarantees anyways," Natasha interrupted. "We just need to try. Charlotte deserves that much. I didn’t bring her here so we could put her at risk and make decisions for her. I brought her here so she could be around people like her and be safe."

The hushed tones of concern were abruptly disrupted as Bucky, still standing at the periphery of the conversation, tensed. His keen senses caught a sound, soft but unmistakable—a groan emanating from Charlotte's room. Without a word, he swiftly turned and made his way to her room.

The group followed, their collective worry etched on their faces. They filed into the room only to find Charlotte blinking back into consciousness. The relief was palpable. Bucky couldn't help but mutter, "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Charlotte, still groggy, managed a weak smile. "You guys always know how to throw a party."

Steve quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, and you sure know how to make an exit."

She chuckled, a raspy sound, and shifted on the bed. "Well, sorry to ruin the mood. Next time I'll make sure to schedule my collapses better."

Tony smirked, relief evident in his voice. "You do that. Maybe put it on the Avengers calendar."

The others couldn't suppress a few chuckles at the banter. Natasha leaned in, her tone dry, "You know, collapsing is very last season. We're aiming for superhero landings now."

Charlotte groaned as she shifted to sit up in the bed. "Noted."

Bucky, satisfied that Charlotte was -- at least for the moment -- all right, turned abruptly to leave the room. His departure didn't go unnoticed.

"Where are you going?" Steve called after him.

Bucky shot a glance back, his expression guarded. "She's awake. You guys got this." He disappeared into the hallway, leaving the others to surround Charlotte. 

Natasha, a wry smile on her face, remarked, "Buck’s gonna give you a run for your money in the dramatic exit department."

"Dramatic? An angel like me?” Charlotte croaked. 

Tony added, "An angel with a penchant for collapsing. Very celestial."

In the hallway just outside the room, Bucky leaned against the wall. He heard the exchange from the room but couldn’t stomach the jokes so soon after the scare. Rolling his eyes, he pushed off the wall and strode for the doors.nSteve caught up with Bucky in the hallway, jogging to match his friend's brisk steps.

"Hey, Buck," Steve began, concern etched across his features. "Why the rush?"

Bucky didn't meet Steve's gaze, his jaw set in a tight line. "They say she doesn't know her limits, but she knew. She knew and she kept going. You didn’t see her in the woods, Steve. She was laughing. She's playing with fire and doesn't even realize it."

Steve placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "She's been through a lot. You know that. We don’t even know the extent of it all yet, and maybe we never will. You know as well as anyone that it’s not easy to acknowledge your weaknesses. It's not easy for her, either."

Bucky's frustration spilled out in a sigh. "I get that. I do. But seeing her collapse like that, it... it brings back things I'd rather forget."

Steve's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. He guided Bucky to a nearby bench, encouraging him to sit. "Buck, I know this is hard for you. Seeing someone go through what you went through with HYDRA—it's like reliving your own nightmare."

Bucky clenched his jaw, his metal fingers tapping an agitated rhythm on his thigh. "It’s not just that - I mean, it is, but…I don’t know. I’ve been getting…glimpses. Maybe flashbacks." He ran his hand along his jawline. “I can’t tell if they’re memories or nightmares or just my mind messing with me.”

“What do you see? When you have them?” 

“It’s…blurry. I get bits and pieces at a time. When I saw her for the first time, that’s when it started. I got a flash of us running, in the woods. I couldn’t tell who was chasing who. Then when she…blacked out in the gym, I had another one. We’ve fought before. I don’t remember when or where, but it was familiar. In a God awful way.” He stared down at his hands in his lap. “Then, in the woods, seeing her bleed and collapse…I saw a glimpse of what they did to her.” 

The pained look on Bucky’s face made it clear he was done talking. Steve let out a sigh, leaning back on the bench. “Well, this isn’t really an easy thing to give advice on, but you have to remember you’re still in recovery too. Just because you’ve been here longer, you’ve broken the brainwashing…it doesn’t mean nothing ever happened. You’re gonna deal with a lot of trauma for a long time. It’s okay to take a step back if you need to.”

“I shouldn’t be the one who needs to take a step back right now. She needs more help than I do.”

"You are helping her, just by being here. But you're not her keeper, Bucky. You can't control everything. She has to make her own choices, even if some of them worry you. We’re all figuring out the best way to help someone we just met.” Steve gave a half smile, nudging his friend. “If you recall, you didn’t exactly give us clear instructions on how to help you, either.” 

Bucky forced a smile. "Guess not. Should’ve taken it a little easier on you guys.” He leaned back on the bench. “It just... it feels like I'm back in that damn lab, watching people suffer because of me. At the end of the day, she’s in this position because of me.”

“That’s not fair, Buck. You know it. You didn’t ask for this any more than she did.” He raised a hand and waved off Bucky’s protest. “I know that Project Mockingbird was a response to the Winter Soldier Project. But last time I checked, you didn’t sign up to be the Winter Soldier. You’re both victims of the same sadistic scientists. We’re all here for you both, but at the end of the day, no one else went through what you two did. Don’t let them win by keeping a divide between you.” Steve's voice was gentle, a steady reassurance. 

“Damn.” Bucky gave a half smile. “I guess some of that therapy finally stuck.” 

__________________________________

The morning sunlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow across the medical wing. The aroma of fresh coffee lingered in the air. Agent Hill sat in a chair beside the bed, Natasha perched on the edge near Charlotte’s feet. 

Maria, her expression businesslike, clicked through her notes on the tablet in front of her. "Let's go over this one more time. There are still some gaps here.”

Charlotte sipped her coffee, her gaze fixed on the swirling steam escaping from the cup. "I told you everything I remember."

Natasha shot Maria a warning look as she opened her mouth to protest. Her face softened. “I know this is difficult, Charlotte. I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through. But, if you’re able to give us anything else, it will get us that much closer to bringing HYDRA down for good.”

Nodding, Charlotte steeled herself. “What else do you need to know?”

“They’re known for their incredible discretion and secrecy. No one gets in or out. Hell, it took Bucky seventy years to escape and that was through a freak accident at the Triskelion. You escaped from the facility, from the headquarters. How?”

Charlotte's eyes glazed with the distant recollection. "I was kept in a different part of the facility than the Win - than James was. Bucky." She shook her head. “I don’t remember much, but I was able to pick it up over time. Piece things together. Things people said, glimpses I got at files here and there…it wasn’t the full picture, but it was something.” 

The two women stayed quiet, letting her continue. 

“To my understanding, I was one of around a dozen people in Project Mockingbird. All of us were brought in just before 1950. The Winter Soldier project had gone well, too well. I remember hearing screams, hearing him take down agent after agent. They said he was too strong. That he couldn’t be controlled. That was before they perfected the memory wipe. He knew who he was, and that was why they couldn’t stop him. I always wondered what he was fighting so hard to get back to.” Charlotte gave a soft, sad smile. “The rest of us didn’t have much of a life before being captured. I think that’s why they went after orphans. When Captain America, er, when Steve came in and raided the base to free Bucky and the rest of the soldiers…they learned. They stopped taking prisoners that someone would miss. I didn’t really get to know anyone else in my group, or if I did…I don’t remember. I know we were all around the same age, sixteen to eighteen. About to age out of most orphanages, if we hadn’t run away already.” 

She took a slow sip of her coffee, seeming lost in her memories. 

“I don’t remember much about the experiments. I remember pain, needles, being restrained. Some didn’t survive the first dose. They tried to alter the serum they gave Bucky…it killed two immediately. A few didn’t survive the brainwashing, it made them go insane.”

“What happened to them?” Maria’s voice was unusually gentle.

“They got shot.” The nonchalance in Charlotte’s voice was chilling. 

“I believe, well, I was told…they tried different methods on all of us. Some got a serum, some got brainwashing, some were…enhanced in other ways.” She winced. “Prosthetics. But they ran out of vibranium, and their version ended up poisoning the whole group they used it on. So, you know.” She mimed a gunshot to the head. “I was in the lucky last group. They took everything they got right with the others, the ones they deemed most likely to survive anyways. Their best chance. I know there was a version of the serum, very diluted. It enhances the senses and makes us…me, stronger and faster. Not as strong as him though. They believed they made him too strong. We had to be enhanced enough to contend with him, but not so strong that we posed a threat to HYDRA.”

Nat reached a hand out, squeezing Charlotte’s knee. 

“Things got a little blurry for a while. I didn’t know how much time had passed, how long I had been there. I think I was kept in cryo for long stretches while they figured out what to do with me. I know they used to make us run hunting exercises.” 

“What were the hunting exercises?”

Charlotte took a slow, shuddering breath as she raised her eyes to look at Maria.

“They would release us into the woods. The group of Mockingbirds…and the Winter Soldier. No weapons. Miles and miles of cold, Siberian wilderness. No food. They made us hunt him. To see if we could actually survive, track him, and to see what we’d do if we caught up to him.”

“Did anyone ever…catch up to him?” Neither Maria nor Natasha knew if they were prepared for her answer.

“Yes. I don’t remember, but I remember hearing them talk about it after I was wiped. How one of the best Mockingbirds caught him and was about to snap his neck when they shot him. They had HYDRA snipers in the trees the whole time. We were never meant to kill him. They just wanted to see if we’d be able to give ourselves the chance.” 

Natasha’s stomach turned as she wondered if Bucky knew. 

“I don’t know how many or how long those…exercises went on. Eventually they got better at brainwashing, so control became less of an issue. Bucky spent more time in the chair…we spent more time in cryo. They’d wake us up every so often, every decade or so? I don’t remember what they told me. Just to make sure we were still alive. Eventually, I was the only one who woke up. I felt like I should be sad, but it had been so long since the last time that I didn’t even remember their names.” 

Charlotte looked like she wanted to cry, but no tears came. 

“We can stop, Char.” Nat spoke softly. 

“No, it’s okay. I want to help.” She swallowed. “I’m almost done anyways.” She sat up straighter in bed, pulling her legs towards her chest. 

“The only real memories I have started about five years ago. Right after -” 

“The Triskelion.” Maria and Natasha both muttered. 

“Right. When the agents returned without the Winter Soldier, everyone lost their shit. Or at least, I’m assuming. They were still losing their shit when they woke me up. I couldn’t even get my bearings before they were outfitting me in tactical gear, yelling at me to track him and kill on sight. I was in a helicopter within the hour.” She grimaced. “They dropped me all over the United States, sending me to track him down anywhere they thought there was a sighting. Every time, I came up empty. That didn’t go over well.” 

As if feeling phantom pain, Charlotte absently rubbed the side of her face. “It just went downhill from there. The longer we couldn’t find him, the more leads that went cold, the angrier they got. With me. They tried to punish me, thinking it would make me work harder or find him faster, but it just made me weaker. We finally went back to the base…and I remember thinking how I must really be in Hell if I was relieved to go back there.” She chuckled to herself. “I was hoping they’d put me back in cryo and never wake me up.”

“But when we got back to base…we didn’t go back to the cryo chamber. We went back to the lab.” Color drained from Charlotte’s face. “They had the scientists all working on something…anything that would make me better. It was awful. They were under duress too, not that I could ever feel bad for the bastards. But it wasn’t exactly the environment for a breakthrough. Once, an agent shot one of the scientists for making excuses. They didn’t move his body for two weeks as a reminder to the others.” 

She sighed. 

“But, just like with me, the punishment did the opposite of what they wanted. It made them sloppy. One day, they forgot to secure my restraints.” 

Charlotte raised her eyes, looking straight at Agent Hill. “So I killed them all.” 

A stunned silence hung over the room. Not once had Charlotte’s voice cracked. Although Natasha had a feeling her hands would be shaking if it weren’t for the vice grip she had on the bedding. 

“I know this sounds redundant…but can you tell me the rest?” Maria’s eyes were almost apologetic for dragging this on further. “You overpowered the scientists, but what about guards? The rest of the base?” 

“There were two guards outside the lab. I jabbed them in the neck with whatever bullshit serum the scientists had been prepping for me, grabbed their weapons, and didn’t look back. Although, judging by the way they screamed, that serum wouldn’t have done me any favors.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “They had been in such a hurry to get me into the lab once we returned that no one thought to wipe me. I knew exactly the way out. I wanted, so badly, to find my file and have answers. But I was tired. So tired. I only had one chance. I took it.” 

“From there, you escaped through…?” 

“The woods.” Charlotte grinned. “The same goddamn woods they used for the hunting exercises.” 

“And then you hitch-hiked across Europe,” Nat joined in. 

“Which is exactly where the story I already told you picks up.” Charlotte’s face showed relief, whether it was over the end of the grueling discussion or in finally sharing her burdens with someone. 

“Did anyone ever come after you? Try to find you?” Maria frowned. 

“Not once.” Charlotte shrugged. “I was careful, at first. I changed my hair every few weeks. Kept moving. Didn’t have a phone or a footprint of any kind. As time went on and no one came, I stopped hiding. But I never stopped looking over my shoulder.” 

“I just find it strange that HYDRA would give up with not one, but two of their most lethal assassins just…out in the world.” 

“With what I left behind, there wasn’t much of a team to rally.” 

Maria raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but Natasha waved her off before she could continue. Pressing the button to stop the session recording, Nat grasped Charlotte’s hand. “I think that’s enough reliving trauma for one day. What do you say to wine and pizza, and Peter bringing the big TV in here for the night?”

Charlotte squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’d say…I hope you like pineapple on pizza.” 

As Natasha breezed out of the room, promising to be back bearing gifts within the hour, Bruce caught up to her in the hallway. Jogging to keep pace, he stammered a protest. “You know, with the damage to her kidneys, from uh - the run…she really shouldn’t be having wine. If I could just do another urine sample to make sure she’s okay, then -” 

“Bruce.” Natasha whirled to face him, stopping in her tracks. “Go back and listen to the session recording and then try and tell me that girl doesn’t deserve a glass of wine. Because if I had to take one guess, you’ll be bringing her something much stronger before you even get through it.” 

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Hurtcember Masterlist

Alternative used - 'Snow'. Hail Hydra - Chapter One Sergeant James Buchannan 'Bucky' Barnes falls from a train in the Alps, and frequently wishes he'd not defied all logic and survived. CW: canon-typical violence, falling from a significant height, forced amputation, poor medical treatment, sickness, infection, possible paranoia/delusion.

"I'm Fine" Hail Hydra - Chapter Two Bucky’s captors leave their prisoner to fight through his illness. CW: sickness, overeating, paranoia, imprisonment, poor treatment of POWs, infection.

'Fainting' Hail Hydra - Chapter Three. When Sergeant Barnes starts to recover from his illness, he’s given other things to worry about. CW: illness recovery, temperature torture, hypothermia, loss of consciousness.

Alternative used - 'Hug' Hail Hydra - Chapter Four. Bucky is warmed up... A little too much. CW: Restraint, branding, threats of violence, temperature torture.

Dead Hail Hydra - Chapter Five. The torture turns violent, and Bucky struggles to cope. CW: Stab wound, shock collar, humiliation, forced nudity.

Starving Hail Hydra - Chapter Six. Bucky seeks comfort. CW: Flashbacks (including forced amputation and brief body gore), Nightmares, T-rated smuttiness.

Broken Hail Hydra - Chapter Seven. Bucky gives rebellion another go – and his only comfort is taken from him. CW: Canon-typical violence, neglect, locked outside in the cold, homophobia, shock collar, cliffhanger.

Flashback Hail Hydra - Chapter Eight. Aleksi’s torture reaches its finale, and Bucky gets put in isolation. CW: Canon-typical violence, submission to save another, stress position, reluctant whimper, physiological distress, emotional distress, lashing.

Paranoia Hail Hydra - Chapter Nine. Things begin to reach their climax, and an announcement reaches the Soviet compound. CW: Forced to kill; death of PoWs; mentions of torture, neglect and abuse; gun violence. @hurtcember This is how far I got! <3

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Dudebro here thinks the Age of Ultron prelude comic should be disregarded:

I don’t think protecting Sokovia and fighting the Avengers are mutually exclusive considering we get a glimpse of anti-Avenger propaganda there, but what do I know?

But that's rewriting the meaning of that dialogue. They signed up for the experiments so they could stop the Avengers, and the Hydra base they were being kept in was being attacked by the Avengers at that moment, so yeah... That was exactly what they had signed up for. I don't see what the confusion is there.

And I agree with you, in the twins' mind stopping the Avengers = saving Sokovia. They were teens raised in foster care who watched their parents get killed by American weapons and the way their grief and hurt manifested was in an absolute hatred for anything American-related. Not to mention they grew up convinced the Avengers were no more than pawns for their government.

But how convenient that these fans never mention this line from Wanda that comes as soon as she can read Ultron's mind: "You said we would destroy the Avengers, make a better world." The way they were going about it was wrong, but what they wanted to do wasn't. It's not such a difficult concept to grasp, or at least it shouldn't be.

Also, just one more thing I don't understand: It is one thing to know about the existence of Hydra and quite another to know that the people you're hanging out with are Hydra. After Nat leaked all that crap in TWS no one in their right mind would advertise themselves as Hydra, they would try to hide even more than before. I have no idea why these fans claim post-TWS all the nazi goons would be out there publicly proclaiming their allegiance.

And Wanda and Pietro had already been through enough and had their own physiology, body and mind altered by the experiments. To think that they should be in perfect sound mind to be able to tell what's going on in that base is ridiculous.

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Aerin (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- The Illuminated One by the people of Olympius

Age- 20 (immortal)

Location- Mania district, New Olympus

Personality- She's a confident, self-assured, unapologetic artistic soul that's drawn to creative activities that involve originality, independence, & expression. She's also an effervescent dreamer. She's pansexual and is currently single.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess. As goddess of the ethereal her other powers/abilities include ethereal elemental manipulation, invisibility, cosmic energy manipulation, ethereal mimicry, photokinesis, being able to generate pyrotechnic energy plasmoids from her hands, celestial manipulation, and aether physiology.

Aerin recently moved into her own place after bouncing from hotels & rental condos- The Tauros Building, a luxury high rise apartment building in the Mania neighborhood of New Olympus. She was proud of herself for getting her place on her own with her earnings. Nothing in the apartment has been situated yet. There are dozens of boxes- the only thing unpacked being her smart flat screen iCHOR Tech television with a few glass sculptural pieces. The only furniture there is a large cream colored leather sofa along with some lucite furniture pieces, like the coffee table. Eventually, she wants to design her place with some pop art artwork.

Other members of her immediate family include her older brother Aplistos (god of avarice).

Notable physical features of Aerin include her naturally sharp cheekbones, her clear blue eyes, her honey blonde hair, & her statuesque height of 6''1.

She keeps a few photos of herself before her transition.

Aerin is one of the few openly trans deities in the pantheon with the other two being her close friend Pothos (god of longing & yearning) and Philautia (goddess of self love). Because she was the first, she has an honorary star on the Pantheon Walk of Fame.

Coming up as a god originally, she was always told how handsome and beautiful she was, possibly being competition for her friend Apollo (god of the sun, music, poetry, healing, medicine, archery, plague, light, & knowledge). Aerin was even nicknamed "junior" by Aplistos, dressing similar to her older brother & styling her then short hair in a pompadour fade style.

Aerin enjoyed some aspects of her life as a male deity. She modeled for and walked the runway for Platinum Alchemy, the men's fashion brand of Zeus (god of the sky, thunder, & lightning). Her and her brother went to exclusive nightclubs & she was always in the company of a beautiful being- even getting a kiss from Aphrodite (goddess of love & beauty).

It always felt performative to her, artificial. It was a role she was good at playing at, but over time, she began to grow tired of it. The noise grew louder and louder to the point where she couldn't ignore it anymore. Aerin had to be totally & completely herself- truly and authentically.

She was most nervous and worried about telling her brother. Though he was taken aback & initially confused, Aplistos offered his support, saying "God or Goddess, you're Aerin."

Aerin made the conscious decision to keep her name as well as her private parts. She doesn't think that changing them will make her feel more or less like a goddess.

She was in tears when her brother's girlfriend Orthosia (goddess of wealth) threw her a "debut" celebration party after her transition. Aerin cried happy tears throughout the entire festivity.

She made her official public debut as a goddess on the cover of The Rainbow Room magazine.

Some of Aerin's favorite makeup products are the Olmorfia shimmering body oil in "Opaltini", the La Petit Amour plumping lip oil in "Jellyfish", the Ourania eyelash curler, the Olmorfia gel powder highlighter in "Moonstone", the Museology glossy blush balm stick in "Lyrical Lilac", the EverPure ice roller, & the Olmorfia cucumber detox hydra-gel eye patches.

She keeps fit through pilates, jogging, and low intensity workouts at the gym.

A go-to drink for her is a vodka tonic. She also likes cosmopolitans, flirtinis, champagne, mint mojitos, vodka sodas (with extra lime), clear & clean coladas, New Olympus Iced Teas, and rosé lemonade elderflower sangrias. Usuals from The Roasted Bean is a large caramel salted cream cold brew & an olympian sized iced green tea.

Aerin swears by the andro-cene T-Tape tuck kit. There's always an extra in her purse. She considers it a must need for photoshoots.

A typical breakfast for her is a few slices of avocado toast with a coconut almond granola parfait. She also likes scrambled egg whites with hash browns and Golly Grains vanilla spice cereal.

She keeps her nails somewhat long & manicured. Her favorite nail polish brand is Glimmer & Shimmer Glaze with her favorite colors being "Frosted Fantasy" (a bright shimmery cyan with gold glitter) and "Ethereal Escape" (a light shimmery lavender with blue glitter).

Aerin is aware of her position & privilege as a passing trans being along with her feminine sounding voice. She recently donated 50,000 drachmas to a gender affirming clinic in the city.

Every few months she sees Paean (goddess of physicians) in her office at the royal palace for ambrosia hormone therapy.

A guilty pleasure for her are the spicy lobster rolls along with miso soup from The Ocean Roll, a popular sushi restaurant.

A constant thing that has remained in Aerin's life before & after her transition is her love for modeling. She likens herself as a storyteller- telling beautiful stories through photos, fashion, makeup, and runway. She models for/endorses Museology, andro-cene, Pure Muse, Kaleidoscope Lab, Maison du Drame, Bow + Arrow, No.3 & Co., House of Muse, Diamond Ave., Luxuria, and ViVoTrack- the streetwear fashion brand of the messenger god Hermes.

For work she usually adds in hair extensions, but in her downtime, she wears her hair naturally which is a little bit past her shoulders. She loves using the Olmorfia platinum silk gloss and the Ourania PRO titanium hair straightener.

Aerin's personal style is a seemingly haphazard eclectic mix of preppy, androgynous, grunge, haute coutoure, avant-garde, & hyper feminine. One day she'll wear an oversized 1X ViVoTrack T-shirt as a dress with thigh high black platform boots- her hair in two messy buns, a spray painted chest binder, a mini-skirt made from black eletrical tape, sheer stockings, & oxford flats, or a super tight corset top with oversized high waisted baggy jeans and lucite heels- her hair decorated with hair jewels & in a sleek ponytail.

In the pantheon she's also friends with Ditus (god of bisexuality, effeminacy, & fertility), Aoide (goddess of voice & song), The Graces, Ganymede (god of homosexual love & desire), Komos (god of revelry), Phaenna (goddess of jewels), The Muses, Eupraxia (goddess of well-being & success), Iris (goddess of the rainbow), Dionysus (god of wine), and Gelos (god of laughter).

Aerin's official mentor was Asteria (Titaness of falling stars, astrology, magic, necromancy, & nocturnal oracles and prophecies). They still keep in touch.

In the industry she's friendly with a fellow model named Daphne, who's a naiad.

Aerin used to be really close to Aether (god of the upper atmosphere, celestial bodies, & heavenly light). She would visit him all the time in the Underworld and he even took her flying on one of his parents' dragons. Aether & Aerin even practiced their makeup skills on each other. They haven't seen or spoken to each other since her transition.

Her latest favorite accesory has been the limited edition Diamond Ave. glass handbag. Aplistos gifted it to her at her debut party. It costs 4,500 drachmas.

With her own business endeavors, Aerin is about to release her signature parfum called Yperkósmios. She came up with the design for the star shaped bottle. The fragrance has notes of pink pepper, ylang ylang, orange blossom, jasmine, amber, and vanilla. The debut will happen at the Basileus Seventh Avenue (a luxury department store) in the Skyline neighborhood. A 100 ml bottle will cost 200 drachmas.

In New Olympus, she always lookes forward to the annual All Love festival, the biggest LGBTQ+ parade in the city.

Her favorite sweet treat is coconut vanilla ice cream topped with crushed almonds.

She recently wrote an op-ed piece for Modern Olympus magazine titled "Trans-Olympius", which has recieved favorable attention & discussion.

Aerin disagrees with the narrow minded views of The Litae, Eusebeia (goddess of piety, loyalty, duty, & filial respect), and Aeschyne (goddess of modesty & honor).

She has been approached by Pheme (goddess of fame) and her production company to do an in depth docuseries about her life, but Aerin hasn't given her an answer yet.

Summerstar's song "Prismheart" is her smartphone's ringtone.

She loves getting vanilla cotton candy from Candycloud, the cotton candy shop owned by Nephele (goddess of clouds).

She's currently in talks with The Moirai to potentially be a model for their fashion brand Apokomména Nímata.

For Christmas Gelos gifted her the jeweled UFO Diamond Ave. clutch, which costs 7,000 drachmas. It came with a card which says "To my beloved alien."

Aerin is a proud pansexual. She's not seeing anyone now (due to her busy work schedule), but before, she was very friendly to anyone she connected with & found attractive- regardless of gender. Before her transition, Aerin has sex for the first time with Pothos- which was coincidentally his first time pre-transition as well. She also had a fling with Ganymede.

Another constant that remained in her life is her love of art- especially light installation pieces. Dionysus and Pothos took her to the Illumination Imagination art exhibit at the Rhodes Museum of Art. Aerin is planning on debuting her own light installation art piece at NOMMA (New Olympus Museum of Modern Art).

Her all time favorite meal is angel hair pasta with leeks in a white wine cream sauce.

In her free time Aerin enjoys glassblowing, cloud surfing, swimming, going to the cinema, writing in her journal, drawing, listening to music, shopping (especially thrift shopping), dancing (her favorites being interpretive dance & ballet), and hanging out with her friends.

"It's not about being a new person, but becoming the person you were already meant to be."

[dzthenerd490]

File: Ghidorah

SCP#: ACJ

Code Name: Ghidorah the Three Headed Demon/ Monster Zero/ The King from Another World

Object Class: Apollyon/ Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ACJ was neutralized the same week it was discovered as such no Containment Procedures have been made. 

Description: SCP-ACJ was originally believed to be a member of Species of Interest: The Titans however this has been brought into question as to whether it's true or not given its origin. According to ancient historical paintings found by researchers within the Department of Mythology and Folkloristics, SCP-ACJ doesn't actually belong to earth like other titans. In fact, its physiology, biology, and even chemical structure are completely different from any titan or organism on earth. Unfortunately, it's unknown to what extent these differences reach as SCP-ACJ was killed and obliterated before Foundation staff could research it. 

What we do know is that SCP-ACJ greatly resembles the mythical hydra. It has three heads, is coated in golden like scales, has two large wings stronger than any metal on earth, a large and destructive tail, and two muscular legs for walking and landing. Similar to SCP-ABQ, SCP-ACJ has a breath attack though instead of atomic flames, it spits out lightning bolts containing 30,000 gigajoules of energy, possibly more. SCP-ACJ is also capable of rapid regeneration, able to regrow a destroyed head within a single minute. 

Despite technically not being of the same species, SCP-ACJ still has the ability to control and communicate with other titans as an Alpha Class Titan. During its awakening SCP-ACJ started ordering all other Titans to go around destroying as much of the world as possible. It's been theorized that this was for the purpose of terraforming the world to something more destructive that only Titans could live on. It was only thanks to SCP-ABQ and SCP-ABU that SCP-ACJ was eventually stopped though not before 78% of humanity was wiped out leading to activation of SCP-2000. Please see Addendum X-23 for details.

SCP-ACJ was discovered in 1964 during an excavation by a research team from the Department of Mythology and Folkloristics. They were following clues to a supposed "false king", a secondary Alpha to the Titans beside SCP-ABQ and SCP-ABU. Unfortunately, despite being careful not to wake up SCP-ACJ, it broke from the ground upon its discovery and wiped out the entire research team. Worst off upon reaching the surface its roars carried out to the entire world, waking up all Titans under the Foundation's control and ones we had yet to find. On that day alone 42% of the world's population was wiped out by their attacks leading the ACPA to exhaust all of its resources to kill a measly 17 Titans when there was still [data expunged] rampaging the world. The fighting only stopped after SCP-ABQ and SCP-ABU were victorious in killing SCP-ACJ. This unfortunately did lead to the activation of Protocol “No Mercy” which states [data expunged] before activation of SCP-2000.

It is because of the battle between the Titans and the fact that the earth would have been destroyed without SCP-ABQ and SCP-ABU that it was considered an unspoken law among the organizations of the ACPA to never bring harm to either of them. Without them, the earth would have been destroyed and the ACPA would have failed humanity in every conceivable way. 

Level 4 Clearance required for unedited version of Addendum X-23. (Coming... eventually)

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[therese-lokidottir]

The Avengers: Earth Mightiest Heroes & X-Men Evolution series watch

Gamma World part 1&2 written by Michael Ryan

The episode starts with The Avengers in the pursuit of Hawkeye. As the Avengers were about to catch Hawkeye, Agent Quartermain arrived in a Shield aircraft. Hawkeye escaped in the confusion. Iron Man was angry with Shield. However, the agent explained that Shield had urgently requested the Avengers' assistance on an important matter. the Avengers are escorted by Shield to The Cube, one of the super prisons. After The Breakout, it's been surrounded by pure Gamma Radiation. The team is greeted by Dr. Samson, who has gone through some mutation since his gamma exposure in The Breakout. He shows the team footage of Shield and Hulkbuster units attempting to breach the cube. But super villain The Leader transformed them into Gamma Monsters. He has created a dome that's expanding and will hit a town or city in a few hours.

Meanwhile in New York Black Widow enters an abandoned Hydra warehouse. Hawkeye, watching from a water tower, short-circuits the lock and knocks out the agent. The warehouse is a Hydra assembly line for Dreadnaught units. Hawkeye readies for a fight.

The team needed to enter the Gamma Dome at The Cube, but the radiation would affect them. Dr. Samson gave them radiation suits except for Thor. The team, with backup from Samson, Quartermain, and two Shield agents, entered the dome. They found the missing operatives mutated into gamma monsters. The Avengers and Shield agents fought and defeated them.

In New York, Black Widow presents a sample of The Hulk's blood to Madame Hydra. However, they are interrupted by Hawkeye before her payment is given.

After returning to the shield base, an agent informs the Helicarrier that the Avengers are unable to communicate due to an unknown signal interference. Meanwhile, inside the cube, the team is unexpectedly attacked by a group of Gamma villains. Although the Avengers fight them off, the villains reveal that they didn't necessarily need to "beat" the Avengers to succeed. During the attack, one of the villains targets The Wasp and destroys her suit, causing her to transform into a gamma monster.

The Leader watches from the Gamma Prison control room and orders Gamma Wasp to kill Dr. Samson. Thor tried to snap her out of the trance, but Wasp kept attacking. The other villains regenerated and attacked the weakened Avengers. Being outnumbered Iron Man orders the team to flee.

Back in New York Hawkeye fights with Black Widow and defeats and captures her.

Iron Man and Captain America are cornered by villains at the Cube. Meanwhile, Thor and Dr. Samson attempt to reach the generator but are blocked by the transformed Wrecking Crew. During the scuffle, Black Panther destroys the generator. Gamma villains caught. Affected being treated. Battle ends, but Leader triggers new Gamma Dome over city.

Las Vegas is in peril as a larger and more powerful version of the gamma emitter from the Cube is activated by the Leader. The emitter projects an enormous gamma radiation dome over the city, causing the mutation of all its inhabitants, including the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who are caught off guard without their protective suits. Only Thor, due to his Asgardian physiology, and Doctor Samson are not affected by the mutation. The dome is expanding at a fast pace. Hawkeye and the captured Black Widow are almost caught in the dome but manage just barely escape.

The Leader gives an announcement that he plans to expand the Gamma Dome to the entire world. After hearing this Hawkeye leaves Black Widow behind and searches for Bruce Banner to find a solution to the problem.

Meanwhile, Thor is brought before the Leader who questions why Thor is not affected by the gamma radiation. Thor informs him that his Asgardian nature makes him immune to such mortal science. Unable to affect Thor the Leader sends in the Abomination to attack him.

Somewhere the Hulk is being attacked by a Hulk buster unit but Hawkeye who has managed to track him down helps him escape. Hawkeye speaks with the Hulk telling him what the Leader has done and saying right now he needs Banner's help. He does manage to convince Hulk to transform back into Bruce who takes him to one of his old laps. From the information Hawkeye can provide Bruce can devise a plan to stop the gamma dome and create a temporary cure for those infected

During the fight with the Abomination Thor manages to buy enough time to summon Mjölnir. However, this is what the Leader wanted, and Absorbing Man takes on the hammer's properties. Absorbing Man hurls Thor into the streets for the gamma monsters.

The Hulk and Hawkeye manage to break into the leader's base and fight off the Abonation long enough to give the inoculation to the rest of the Avengers, curing them. In his battle against the Absorbing Man, Thor exerts control over his body, much like he can command his hammer. He launches the villain upwards, causing him to smash into the Leader. Hawkeye hits the Abonation with one of the cures weakening him and allowing Hulk to smash the gamma emitter and hurl it into space, collapsing the dome and saving the world and everyone returning to normal.

Hawkeye can provide Shield with footage proving his innocence. They say they will reinstate him as an agent, but he declines after what he's been through. He also at first refuses to join the Avengers when they offer until Hulk says he will only rejoin if Hawkeye joins the team, so he agrees.

In the desert, the Abomination is slinking away from the events until he is greeted with an offer from the Enchantress.

I want to start off saying that this episode really pops off with some nice animation. It is still very good at colors an shadows. This episode is very horror esque and the art really makes it work.

Jeffery Combs voices the Leader which is great because he always brings 110%. I am never not entertained by this guy performance

The action is all really good. I do like all the little moments of characterization, like all the other Avengers letting Tony walk into the gamma field first and him being "thanks guys"

They got the whole group dynamic figures out really. They know what each character can do an how to utilize their abilities in fun interesting ways.

Hawkeye gets a lot more time to be his snarky self , but personally I like what we get of Bruce this episode with best I could describe as quite bluntness. Again it does show at the same time how Bruce and Hulk are connected but also kinda their own Individuals.

So this was a pretty good two parter, action pact fun character moment between and laying the ground work for future storie.

Grim Reminder written by Greg Johnson

The episode begins with Wolverine having a nightmare where he is floating in a tank before it cuts to him breaking out and then to him running in a forest and fighting Sabretooth. He awakes unsure what it all means.

Later, Kitty wakes up and tries to prepare for the day. Kitty keeps ruining everyone else trying to get ready. Writing to her parents, Kitty tells them how things have been going for her at Xavier Institute. She writes how she has been getting along with everyone. However, she keeps getting interrupted unable to complete her E-mail to her parents.

Scott watches a new report that seems to trigger something in Logan. He starts to have pains and bursts of rage that he can't control. Logan talks to Charles about his recurring headaches. Charles uses his telepathic ability to delve into Logan's mind and discovers that he is experiencing flashbacks of his past. As they delve deeper into Logan's memories, he firmly believes that the person in those memories was responsible for giving him his adamantium claws. Logan then abruptly ends the session with Charles, telling him that he has to leave.

Kitty is inside the Blackbird trying to find a quiet place to finish her letter to her parents. Kurt finds her and tells her it's time for school. However, the Blackbird takes off because of Logan's quest. Kitty tells Kurt to be cautious of Wolverine because he's been acting strangely. When Kurt approaches him, Wolverine throws his claw at him. Wolverine asks why they are following him. Kitty explains they're not, but Wolverine locks himself away for their safety. Wolverine leaves Kitty and Kurt behind after their landing. A scientist tells Sabretooth that Wolverine's chip still works after years. Sabretooth fights Wolverine and the scientist uses the chip to shut him down.

The scientist sends Wolverine and Sabretooth to attack Kitty and Kurt. Kitty tries to reason with Wolverine, but the scientist increases his control. She runs away, dodging debris. Kurt escapes Sabretooth by teleporting around. Wolverine frantically searches for Kitty, fearing that he may have killed her. Suddenly, Kitty phases through the ground and appears behind him. She tries to reach him before he can attack her with his claws. Kurt urges Kitty to come with him, but she refuses and goes to see Wolverine instead. She encourages him to keep fighting the chip control, and Wolverine manages to regain his senses and put away his claws. Finally, Kitty hugs him tightly.

Sabretooth attacks Wolverine and Kitty, pushing them over a ledge. Wolverine hits Sabretooth with a tree and heads towards the scientist's lab. Kurt warns Kitty that Sabretooth may have planned this, but she assures him they can stop him. Wolverine claws his way into the lab, where the scientist orders Sabretooth to protect him. Sabretooth tries to help the scientist but is stopped by Kurt and Kitty. Sabretooth fights Kurt, while the scientist uses a machine to hurt Wolverine and sends robots to attack him. Kitty arrives, disables the device, and saves Wolverine. The device erupts, causing the lab to explode. Wolverine confronts the scientist angrily and reveals his claws, accusing him of picking the wrong enemy. The scientist warns him that the place is going to blow up, but Wolverine orders Kitty to leave. Kurt arrives and teleports them away. Wolverine tells Sabretooth and the scientist that Weapon X is over. Kurt and Kitty watch as the base explodes. Wolverine returns to the blackbird exhausted, collapses.

Wolverine wakes up at the Xavier Mansion at night and Charles informs him that he is back at the institute and safe. Charles tells Logan that the kids are fine and Kitty had been checking on him every hour. Logan promises to investigate what happened to him. Meanwhile, the X-Men are complaining to Kurt, who tells them to calm down and assures them that Kitty will be out in a minute. Kitty tells her parents that she has begun to miss bumping into everyone, which comes with being part of a family.

So this episode was fine and I will admit my lack of enthusiasm is a fully me problem. I have never cared about Wolverine's past of the weapon X stuff. I know it's a huge part of the comics, but it's never been interesting to me.

But what I did like about the episode is that it does show all the X-Men and them being both roommate and a family is nice. I love seeing how teams interact in just their regular living spaces. Wolverine connecting with the kids at the end is nice. It's nice to see him really take on that mentor role.

This isn't even really a flaw but do find it so weird on this show how people just suddenly be in their X-Men uniforms. Like, where were you keeping those and how did you put them on so fast?

Not too much to say about this episode, if you like the Wolverine stuff it's the episode for you.

[yllowpages]

TIMELINE OF EVENTS : BUCKY BARNES .

a comprehensive and semi-complete timeline for my mixed media/headcanon-based portrayal of bucky. i have taken mcu events, comic storylines, and my own personal headcanons to create a blend that does not fully coincide with either the film adaptations or the comics.

this post is your guide to my canon for bucky and i recommend reading it prior to or during plotting — or i can totally give you a rundown of divergences from canon and important headcanon-based pieces of my portrayal.

DISCLAIMER : events may shift from verse to verse or possibly not happen altogether, based on the nature of plotting.

THIS POST IS SUBJECT TO BEING UPDATED.

1917

March 10 — James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes is born in Shelbyville, Indiana to George and Winifred Barnes.

1920 - 1929

1920 — Rebecca Barnes is born. 1924 — The Barneses move from Shelbyville to Brooklyn, New York. 1925 — Violet Barnes is born. 1926 — Bucky meets Steve Rogers. 1929 — Theodore “Teddy” Barnes is born.

1930 - 1939

1936 — Sarah Rogers passes away. 1937 - 1938 — Bucky attends art classes with Steve. (Bucky is not good at art.)

1940 - 1949

December 7, 1941 — The Attack on Pearl Harbor ; the United States enters the Second World War. December 1941 - January 1942 —  Bucky is drafted into the Second World War ; Bucky trains Steve at Goldie’s Boxing Gym before Bucky goes to an enlistment office with Steve ; Steve is rejected. January 1942 - April 1943 — Bucky trains at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin (with periodical leaves back to New York) with the rest of the 107th Infantry, where he meets and befriends both Gabe Jones and "Dum Dum" Dugan ; Bucky is promoted to the rank of sergeant. June 14, 1943 — Flag Day ; Bucky’s last night before his shipment out to England. August 1943 — the “Captain America” comics debut to the public, to great success! September 1943 — The Battle of Azzano ; survivors of the 107th Infantry are captured by Hydra and taken to a weapons facility in the Austrian Alps. October 1943 — Bucky meets James Montgomery Falsworth and Jacques Dernier, both fellow POWs ; Bucky becomes ill and is beaten by Hydra Colonel Lohmer for his inability to perform manual labor ; the future Howling Commandos band together to orchestrate an accident that kills Lohmer ; Bucky, ill and weak, is taken to Arnim Zola to be used for experimentation. November 1943 — Bucky and the other POWs held by Hydra are rescued by Steve, now Captain America. November 1943 — The Howling Commandos are formed : Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Gabriel “Gabe” Jones, Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader “Dum Dum” Dugan, James Montgomery “Monty” Falsworth, James “Jim” Morita , Jacques “Frenchie” Dernier. 1944 — the Howling Commandos travel across the European theater, performing raids on Hydra bases, weakening their forces. January 1944 — a new character is introduced in the thrilling “Captain America” comic series: his right-hand and sidekick, Bucky Barnes, a boy wonder! ; overseas, Bucky endures weeks of mockery after being turned into a kid sidekick in these comic books. February 2, 1945 — during a mission on a train in the Swiss Alps, Bucky unfortunately falls from the train into the Danube river and is presumed dead ; Zola’s experimenting on Bucky over a year earlier is the reason for his survival ; Soviet soldiers find Bucky still alive, taking him as a P.O.W. February 5, 1945 — the Barnes family is informed that Bucky has been declared missing in action as no body was recovered, but it is the opinion of many involved that Bucky was rather killed in action ; the Barneses spend the next few years holding out hope he isn't dead. 1945 - 1949 — upon medical examination of Bucky, the Soviets observe his enhanced physiology while blood tests confirm traces of a type of super-soldier serum, though difficult to synthesize more of ; the Winter Soldier Program (then unnamed) is subsequently born with Bucky as the only current subject ; with state of the art technology (and cybernetic schematics recovered by a Soviet spy) he is given his first bionic prosthetic as the next steps of the program are planned ; they begin the process of testing human cryostasis and brainwashing and assign the most skilled Soviet fighters to adequately train and condition the subject ; stolen technology from the supposedly-fallen HYDRA is used to construct an early version of the Memory Suppressing Machine, a device that utilizes electroconvulsive therapy to inflict damage to the brain with an emphasis on the limbic system ; Bucky's memories begin to fade. December 10, 1949 — nearly five years after Bucky's death or disappearance, George and Winifred Barnes decide to finally hold a funeral for their son ; an empty coffin is buried and the headstone lists his date of death as February 2, 1945.

1950 - 1959

1950 - 1954 — as his conditioning is continued, Bucky is periodically sent into the field with handlers in order to ensure his efficacy ; he is proving useful and is in the first steps to infamy ; cryostasis has proven successful in the last decade, therefore Bucky has barely aged within this time. 1951 — The Winter Soldier is sent to Goyang, South Korea to aid Soviet forces, where he encounters Isaiah Bradley, a Black American super-soldier who was privately experimented in a successor to Project Rebirth ; unable to kill Bradley, this altercation costs Bucky this early version of his bionic prosthetic and he is removed from the field. 1954 — after the KGB is formed, the organization formally joins the Winter Soldier Project and introduces conditioning methods, primarily accelerating physical combat training ; the use of trigger words are employed for efficiency in Bucky's brainwashing, which prove to work well with improvements made to the Memory Suppressing Machine. September 19, 1954 — George Barnes passes away at the age of 68 ; he's survived by his wife and three children. 1955 - 1959 — Bucky is continued to be trained, indoctrinated, and tortured while the results are tested with field missions ; the title of “The Winter Soldier” is officially given to him by the KGB (the program being retroactively named as such as well) ; he is now considered “the perfect soldier” and is officially an assassin for Soviet use ; his very existence would come to be doubted by even the highest of government agents.

1960 - 1989

years unknown — the Soviets take The Winter Soldier out of cryostasis suspended animation in order to use him to aid in training girls of the Red Room Academy ; The Winter Soldier meets and trains with Natalia Romanova, later known as Natasha Romanova ; they work together on many missions for the Soviet Union during The Cold War.*

*NOTE :  Due to my use of MCU inspiration, including Bucky's brainwashing, any romantic or sexual relationship between Bucky and Natasha is not my default canon, despite my inclusion of comic story, but it can be acknowledged with extensive plotting. The nature of Bucky's brainwashing generally implies a lack of autonomy, therefore prior plotting will be required before any plots involving Bucky and Natasha's relationship with each other from the comics.

April 21, 1967 — Winifred Barnes passes away at the age of 77 ; she is survived by her three children. 1986 — a Soviet scientist removes Bucky from cryostasis without authorization ; the scientist tells Bucky he is going to help him get home to America ; confused, fearful, and conflicted from his mental conditioning, Bucky kills the scientist ; he is found with the man’s body and is immediately put back into cryostasis.

1990 - 1999

December 16, 1991 — The Winter Soldier is sent to assassinate Howard and Maria Stark in order to obtain Howard Stark’s super soldier serum ; he is successful. December 1991 — in a last-ditch attempt to preserve The Winter Soldier Program in the last days of the Soviet Union, this serum is used on five former-KGB operatives in an attempt to turn them into super soldiers not unlike Bucky ; this is known internally as Zephyr ; the operatives are defective however and kept in cryostasis, indefinitely ; Bucky remains the only successful subject of The Winter Soldier Program ; with the Soviet Union dissolved, The Winter Soldier Program is abandoned and Bucky is left in a Soviet base in cryostasis, forgotten. 1994 — former member of the KGB Aleksander Lukin, who inherited The Winter Soldier Program from Vasily Karpov before the fall of the Soviet Union, reactivates The Winter Soldier for personal use as he begins to build his business, The Kronas Corporation. 

2000 - 2009

spanning the decade — Bucky is used by Lukin in order to kill political and corporate officials, intimidate various people, and overall aid in the growth of The Kronas Corporation, which has been steadily growing within the United States and across the world, working under the table.

2010 - ?

2012 — The Winter Soldier is sent to Sokovia by Lukin to assassinate a high-ranking political official ; he successfully does so with a timed detonation – there are many casualties ; EKO Scorpion, of the Sokovian Armed Forces, being posted at the site for security of sorts, is sent to either apprehend or kill The Winter Soldier before he escapes ; Colonel Helmut Zemo is among the agents sent ; The Winter Soldier kills most of EKO Scorpion, save for Zemo and one other member. 2014 — The Winter Soldier resurfaces and sent to assassinate Steve Rogers, as Lukin and his allies see him as a threat ; Bucky is unsuccessful when Steve instead recognizes him, this recognition tampering with the programming put in Bucky’s mind decades before ; unbeknownst to anyone else, Helmut Zemo learns of The Winter Soldier’s return and independently discovers the identity of The Winter Soldier, a truth he shares with the public ; exposed, a wanted criminal, and his mind broken, Bucky fails a second time to assassinate Steve due to inaction ; at the last second, Bucky saves Steve's life from drowning ; he begins a life on the run. 2014 - 2016 — Bucky, now free from Lukin, successfully leaves the United States and makes his way to Europe where he travels around, running from anyone who might be following him ; he never stays in one place more than a month. 2016 — in yet another act of revenge, Helmut Zemo bombs a U.N. meeting, killing the King T'Chaka of Wakanda in the process ; Zemo frames Bucky for the bombing in order to flush him out of hiding ; he is found in Bucharest, Romania, where he is apprehended and taken to Berlin by SHIELD, after also having been pursued by Prince T'Challa of Wakanda ; Zemo, posing as a psychiatrist, triggers The Winter Soldier conditioning, leading him to kill multiple SHIELD agents in escaping ; he is saved by Steve and Sam Wilson and they all soon go on the run ; they are lured to an abandoned Soviet base in Siberia by Zemo ; Bucky and Steve go to Siberia ; Zemo has the intent to activate The Winter Soldier yet again and force Bucky to kill Steve ; Zemo is apprehended by Bucky and Steve and handed over to SHIELD. 2016 - 2018 — Steve, familiar with Prince T’Challa of Wakanda, asks if Bucky, his name now cleared of King T'Chaka's death, can have sanctuary in Wakanda, as he knows Bucky will be safe and hidden there ; there, Bucky is put into suspended animation while Shuri, princess of Wakanda, devises a way to remove the Soviets’ programming ; through a complicated process, this is done and Bucky is truly on a path of healing and recovery from the years of torture from the Soviets ; Bucky receives a new prosthetic, vibranium arm, designed by Princess Shuri. 2018 - ? — Bucky chooses to leave Wakanda and return to the United States ; upon returning, seeing that he is still a wanted criminal and terrorist, Bucky turns himself in ; in turning himself in, Bucky is not arrested nor incarcerated at this time, but is willing to undergo heavy monitoring to prove he is not and will not be a threat to public safety or the country’s security ; Bucky is put on trial for his crimes as The Winter Soldier (the trial is not televised, a limited number of people are allowed in the gallery, and Bucky is advised not to do interviews before, during, or directly after trial proceedings) ; during the trial, the terms of a pardon were negotiated and, when no official verdict in the trial is reached, Bucky is granted a (conditional) federal pardon ; as a condition of his pardon, he is required to attend mandated therapy to assess his psychological state and to ensure he will not be a public threat in the future ; he is no longer considered an enemy of the state or terrorist and lives as a civilian.***

*** this is my main verse and the time in which MOST threads will be set.

[ask-octoberotto]

Heya this is Neith from another verse. I was prompted to speak with you about (P)NH(C) virus. Which, I suppose, means... literaly everything about it? It started in OsCorp labs, that I was told, but what was it meant to do? What it did/does when not stopped? What was attempted to stop/heal it? What is affected (type of) population and is there a pre-exposure vaccine? If you know how to send files across the borders, that may be a great time to use that skill, any byte of info is nice. I and my benefactors want only good, I so swear.

And in the other news, I have a list of terms to ask about also, because umm. Pax became quite angry when questioned about those, and it seems like she doesnt know anything despite all of them being globe-span things. I quote, “your experiences are not universal”. Which, if true, means fundamental differences I cant reconcile with on the spot. Anyways, the list follows: Admiral(person, "A" capitalised); Aretes(the organisation); Dragonhearts(the organisation); Greatest biologist of Earth; Plural Plagues(or any event matching that name); Hellhole(in context of Washington, and any others); Hydra(the organisation); North Sentinel Island; OsCorp biology division; Top Alley House(the place). I dont demand the full dissertation on each, I just want to realise whats different and how much so. - Neith

Oh. Christ. Ok, you’re.. quite lucky I’m not too swamped with work. I don’t have the time to fulfill everything that you’ve requested from me (I’m… not doing an actual dissertation for a tumblr ask, sorry) but I will try to answer as best as I can regardless. This gets long so I’m putting it under a read more.

So, firstly, I will have to firmly ask that you to please refrain from agitating Pax any further. One of the prominent symptoms of severe Post NH virus Condition (PNHC) comes in the form of increased irritation/aggression along with emotional deregulation and to keep triggering that is to make an individual more hostile and more likely to.. uh.. respond with violence.. 

Though I doubt you’ll experience much of this aside from some harsh words from her, but as her doctor, I have to ask you leave her be for now so she doesn’t either bring herself or others harm. We really don’t need a situation to evolve because of this big misunderstanding. Also if you’re wondering why Ez is able to visit her, it’s because she trusts them deeply and Ez is unable to be notably harmed by Pax. Speaking with Ez does her a lot of good!

Anyway, you can find more specifics on the symptoms here on NH virus and here on the resulting PNHC, but generally speaking, when one gets infected with the Noctis Hectica (NH) Virus, it generally has a massively negative impact on the brain.. In some ways, it functions somewhat similar to a form of rabies, though there are key differences between the two retroviruses. The most notable being the physiological changes brought on by an infection of NH, with one of the biggest indicators being the changes to the eyes. Even in early stages, the eyes are usually one of the first things to be heavily altered, as patients tend to experience severe photophobia/eye pain, a rapid development of choroidal tapetum cellulosum, and loss of eye pigmentation, turning the previous eye color to a silvery-white color.

At the moment, two different vaccines have been developed, by yours truly, pre-exposure and post-exposure vaccines. We’re.. still trying to do drug discovery for the treatment of PNHC but so far, there seems to be no cure for it. This is more something that one has to manage with medication and other treatments such as therapy for years, possibly lifelong in the severe cases. It’s a very debilitating condition and those who are affected often need at least some level of support to manage it.

Most infected tend to be human but other animals (usually mammals but there was a jump to reptiles at a point) that have been reported to either carry or show symptoms of NH virus. Also I’d love to send more detailed documentation to you but.. that’s not my decision to make. Because I work with the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance (BSAA) there are some things I am not allowed to disclose and quite frankly? I don’t really want to entrust this sensitive information to an organization I’ve never even heard of. And neither would my superiors.

Which speaking of… I’m afraid Pax is correct with her repeated statement to you. I don’t really know how else to put this to you but, what may be true to your dimension, is not inherently true to another. To assume that it is… extremely shortsighted at best and kind of arrogant at worst, considering you’ve been told twice (now thrice) that it wasn’t the case and yet you don’t seem to really get it.

I.. I understand it’s not something that’s easy to accept and I understand it’s a big adjustment to learn about the multiverse. But you need to listen to me when I say we literally do not have any these other organizations aside from OsCorp, which was a biotechnology company until very recently when they developed the NH virus and ended up causing a massive outbreak in the city of Baltimore, leading to hundreds of thousands of deaths (estimates are approx. 492,000 known deaths) and causalities (50,631) and disappearances (about 28,500 still unaccounted for) related to the Baltimore Incident as of 2082.

Though the situation is mainly secured by now, the Outbreak did a lot of damage to the city and surrounding neighborhoods and resulted in most of the population of Baltimore being either injured or killed as a result. Those responsible have also died during the outbreak but there are a few fugitives still at large, namely the former CEO of OsCorp, Nora Veronica Osborn. Hopefully, the BSAA will find her and she will be held responsible for the amount deaths and destruction her company has caused.

If the other organizations/persons/etc. mentioned existed as prevalently as you say it should in our dimension, I would know. Aside from being the guy who developed the first vaccines for the NH virus (and currently the only person who was not involved with OsCorp that is a leading expert on this virus as I studied it.. far too closely while was trapped in Baltimore), I am virologist and immunologist who has studied many different viral agents over the years, especially viruses that are tied to biological warfare such as the much older Tyrant Virus (T-Virus) and its variants.

So in short? Pax said it best: your experiences are not universal.

What is true in your universe may not even exist in another. Hope this clears everything up and no, I do not want to repeat myself anymore than I have to.

Have a nice day.

- 🔬

[bastardsunlight]

Hawker suddenly retches violently and steadies herself on the wall -- it might be comical, the way she rather resembles a cat expelling a hairball, until there's a flicker of something that might be actual distress.

It only lasts a moment, however; she's accustomed to straightening out physiological malfunctions herself (and she's had her share, having perfected her dual mutation alone and with precious little room for helplessness) and so in a rather grotesque display of self-reliance a single black tendril extends from her mutated hand and is shoved, a little roughly, down her own throat to dislodge the cause of the episode.

She snatches it out again with something very like disgust for a creature who has seen many horrific and mutated things and is rather frightening-looking herself; something small and black and twitching smacks with a plasticky sound against the concrete and when the gun light of the silent Apex beside her falls upon it, the harsh blue-white beam glints off the feebly scrabbling legs of what is undeniably a very sickly young Plaga -- as strange as the notion that such a thing can be sickly might be. Its tiny, chitinous body is burned and malformed in places, as if Uroboros sought to consume it before ultimately rejecting it.

Sixteen's boot is upon it almost as fast as it can be identified, the force of the driven heel enough for Chris and Leon to feel even at their distance. His expression as he looks at Hawker is unreadable behind his mask, but must resemble concern to her, because she spits, laughs uneasily, and remarks,

"Wrong neighborhood, Jiminy Cricket."

Her own goggles are pushed back, and it is clear she is avoiding Leon's eyes as she retracts the tendril, resumes the normal use of her support hand beneath the triple barrel of the Hydra, and presses forward.

They both see it—both nearly feel it—as the thing is extracted and crushed with extreme prejudice. The way Leon’s body tenses is something else they both feel, though he is reticent to admit it. He feels a steadying hand on his lower back, but nothing more than that, as Chris nods to him ‘you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ comes the silent response, communicated with eyes only, ‘let’s get moving.’

It’s clear from his expression that Leon wants to laugh. Sarah Hawker is a comedy genius, even at the darkest of times, but this thing… this is something else. Still, it cannot stop him a few yards down the corridor.

“You ever seen Poltergeist 2, Hawk?”

[dhampiravidi]

marvel/mcu OC (Skadi)

Legal Name: Skadi Thiazidottir

Alias(es): Goddess of Winter and Hunting, Giantess

Race: Half-Jotnar, Half-Asgardian

Citizenship: Dual; Jotunheim & Asgard (later, New Asgard)

DOB: Jan. 27, 965 AD (in Jotunheim; age 1055 by 2020)

FC: Olga Kurylenko's makeup (as Etain in Centurion) + Rhea Ripley (face & body minus the tattoos) (adult); Mackenzie Foy (teen/child)

Appearance: aside from the fact that Skadi is 7'5" (2.26 m), she appears human/Asgardian from afar. However, up close, you can see that her irises are a bright reddish-brown. Her canines are more like fangs, and she blushes blue rather than red or pink; all is due to her Jotunn heritage. Her waist-length black hair is worn in a long braid. Skadi wears face paint to resemble Jotnar markings: straight blueish lines are drawn on parts of her face and black is used around her eyes. Her physique is muscular yet even (not top-or-bottom-heavy), and she has fair skin. Physically, she appears to be in her 30s.

Background: Skadi was conceived shortly after the truce was established between Jotunheim and Asgard. Her mother, Eira, was a scholar researching the new ally, and her father, Thiazi, was the man assigned to show her around. When Eira gave birth, she abandoned her daughter with the girl's father and never returned, ashamed of who she'd fallen in love with. So Thiazi raised Skadi among the members of his clan, teaching her to wrestle and sing as per Jotnar custom. Skadi was bullied due to her appearance, and it became unbearable after her father died in an accident. She went to Asgard to find her mother--and found Eira with a family of her own. Skadi went to the palace to ask Odin to enroll her in the school of magic. Upon seeing her and learning that she was half-Jotnar, he flatly denied her request. Thankfully, Frigga had been nearby. She asked teenage Skadi about her talents and ended up giving her her first assignmnent in the Asgardian wilds. This would lead to an almost familial relationship between the two, wherein Skadi saw the queen as an aunt. Frigga would give Skadi the honorary title of "Goddess of Winter and Hunting", make her the royal hunter of Asgard, and invite her to many events in an effort to let the young woman be with her other people.

(verse dependent) Skadi goes to Midgard and is captured by HYDRA, who render her temporarily amnesiac via their attempts to make her into one of their soldiers. She can either work for them for a period or escape, living under a new name somewhere else.

Sexuality: Pansexual

Personality: she's one of those "hard outside, soft inside" people. Skadi's been bullied by her own people and anyone who's cruel enough to point out her visual "peculiarities", so she has gotten tough over the years, learning to appreciate herself for who she is. She doesn't trust others easily (assuming that there is always a trick hidden behind acts of kindness), but she does tend to have a soft spot for small children and animals. In fact, she lives with wolf packs for a time in the wild and she often takes injured animals to her cabin for veterinary care. During her downtime, Skadi sews clothes and fabrics for her temporary wards and reads about various cultures.

Power(s): those allotted by Jotnar-Asgardian physiology

Superhuman Physiology: her strength, speed, endurance, and agility lie somewhere between that of Thor and Loki's, as both of them represent her species and both of them are her age

Cryogenesis: like other Jotnar, she can create and manipulate a kind of ice that is stronger than the kind found on Earth. She rarely uses this ability, preferring to rely on her skills.

Abilities

Fighting Skills: Jotnar wrestling, centuries of hunting

Languages: Jotunn, Asgardian, English, Norwegian

Misc.: sewing, baking, wilderness survival, kinship with animals

Equipment:

Weapons: spear (often used as a javelin), recurve bow

Handmade clothes: tunic, fur cloak, pants (as resistance to extreme cold, since she's not full-blooded Jotunn)

Asgardian armor: gifted to her by Queen Frigga

Mount: typically horses or her pet/friend, a Bilgesnipe

Cabins: 1 in Asgard, 2 on Earth (in Canada and another in Norway)

Here's a link to some Jotnar culture HCs, all made by me!