#infinity war compliant i guess

[tonysbirthdaygala]

REVEALS PART 2!!

I meant to have two reveals today, but life got in the way.

Anyways, here's a mega-reveal of works! Tomorrow you will know the authors. Until then...can you guess?

_______

Workaholic (M) 683w

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark/Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Alternate Universe, Husbands, Workaholic Tony Stark, Domestic Fluff, Birthday, How Do I Tag, Not Beta Read, Implied Sexual Content

Tony’s been busy with work lately, so much to the point that he’s forgotten his own birthday! Lucky him, his partner(s)/friend(s) have been preparing something special for him.

_______

The Masseur (E) 1.1k

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Alpine the Cat (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, love at first touch, Fingerfucking, Masseur Bucky Barnes, Soft Bucky Barnes, Not Beta Read, Flirting, Attempt at Humor

Tony is convinced by Pepper to get a massage after weeks of hard work in his lab. He didn't expect his massage therapist to be this handsome.

_______

I Would Do Anything for Love...  (E) 5.3k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplySteve Rogers/Tony StarkSteve RogersTony StarkBruce BannerBDSMSimon Eriksson's Love Language is Words of AffirmationNon-Sexual SubmissionBody WorshipPet NamesDaddy KinkSafewordsHurt/ComfortDom Tony StarkSub Steve RogersOral SexAnal SexFirst TimeLoss of VirginitySpankingImpact PlayDrinkingImplied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/AlcoholismTony Stark is a TeaseBondageLight PettingRimmingWhippingPraise KinkEjaculationAnal FingeringHe Used how Many Dildos?!So Many Super Soldier OrgasmsKneelingSubspaceBarebackingOnline RomanceBanner Banter

Tony Stark had a lot to be happy about. Today, this week, the month- hell, the past year had been going remarkably well. Construction had been finished for Banner’s own personal Research & Development, he and Bruce had been making headway with Hulk Buster Veronica, Stark Tower had been successfully renovated into Avengers Tower, Pepper had firmly established her role as CEO of Stark Industries, and last but certainly not least, this weekend would mark the anniversary of the attack on New York- a full year since Tony had come face to face with death yet again, remembering life is indeed short and promised himself he would rekindle his most passionate life style… he would get back into the scene.. the play scene, the BDSM scene.

_______

the only bad you’ve ever done is see the good in me (T) 2.7k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyTony Stark/Sam WilsonSteve Rogers/Tony Stark (mentioned)Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson (mentioned)Steve Rogers/Tony Stark/Sam WilsonTony StarkSam Wilson (Marvel)Post-Movie: Captain America: Civil War (2016)Fix-It of SortsNot Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018)BirthdayCostume Parties & MasqueradesLove ConfessionsMutual PiningLight Angsteveryone is sorryHappy EndingNomad Steve RogersPolyamory

The script for a missing scene in which fugitive Sam Wilson risks it all to deliver a birthday gift to Tony Stark.

_______

Balancing the Scales (E) 4.1k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyJames "Bucky" Barnes/Steve RogersJames "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony StarkTony StarkJames "Bucky" BarnesSteve RogersAlternate Universe - FantasyAlternate Universe - RoyaltyPrince Tony StarkDragon Bucky BarnesDragon Steve RogersLoss of VirginityAnal SexMale Homosexuality

Prince Tony has about a million questions. He could never imagine the answers he's about to get.

_______

Fragments of Another Life (T) 8k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyLoki/Tony StarkTony Stark & Stephen StrangePepper Potts & Tony StarkTony StarkLoki (Marvel)Pepper PottsStephen StrangeVillain Tony StarkAvenger Loki (Marvel)Emotional Hurt/ComfortTony Stark Has Palladium PoisoningGetting TogetherAngstBanterSupportive Loki (Marvel)Tony Stark Needs a HugMultiversal travelPost-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)roughlyTony Stark Still Has Arc Reactorand it's killing himTony Stark-centricComic Book Science

Palladium poisoning was not how Tony was going to go out. Not after everything he had survived until now. But while trying to find the cure, Loki and him are forced to make a decision.

Tony's life or that of a universe.

_______

The Unexpected Choice (G) 7.4k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyPepper Potts & Tony StarkPepper PottsTony StarkTime TravelTony Stark Has Palladium PoisoningPepper Time TravelsPepper Potts Saves The DayPast Pepper Potts/Tony StarkGrief/MourningBeginnings

There were certain expectations of the type of person who would travel back in time. Pepper was well aware that she didn’t fit those expectations.

There were very few things in life that she’d truly failed at. No, Pepper had made a habit of success. This was a venture on a scale like none other she’d ever embarked on, but Pepper was hardly going to let that stop her.

_______

For An Unspoken Vow (G) 1.1k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyTony Stark/Stephen StrangeBackground Christine Palmer/Pepper PottsTony StarkStephen Strange5+1 ThingsTime TravelEstablished RelationshipPre-Movie: Iron Man (2008)Canon Divergence - Iron Man 1Afghanistan KidnappingPanic AttacksHurt/ComfortFluffAngst and FeelsPOV Tony StarkBAMF Stephen StrangeStephen Strange Needs a HugNo beta we die like Obadiah Stane

Of all the things Tony had theorized, he could have never guessed that his fiance is actually a very powerful Wizard who came here from the future. To save Tony.

Or

5 times Stephen acts a little strange, + the 1 time he acts badass.

_______

My Savior (T) 5.6k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyTony Stark/Stephen StrangeLoki & Tony StarkPepper Potts/Tony StarkChristine Palmer/Stephen StrangeTony StarkStephen StrangeLoki (Marvel)Pepper PottsChristine PalmerFix-ItCanon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)No SnapAlternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Diesstuck togetherDeveloping FriendshipAngst and FeelsIronStrangePolyamoryPre-RelationshipPOV Tony StarkCanon-Typical ViolenceTony Stark Needs a HugStephen Strange Needs a HugSick Stephen Strangemagical feverCaring Tony StarkStubborn IdiotsStephen is an Idiot in LoveNo beta we die like Stephen Strangeas in revived only to die over and over again

Tony has limited options to choose from: either stay put in Titan with his unconscious Wizard and risk permanent damage from radiation while they wait for rescue, or take the Guardians’ damaged ship out for a spin and risk being stranded in space.

He makes his choice.

_______

A Stroll in the Woods (G) 3.3k

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyTony StarkAlternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Tony wakes up alone, in a forest. His memory is foggy. He doesn’t know how he got here. He doesn’t know where “here” is. Sure, there may be people looking for him, but he isn’t going to play the part of a damsel in distress; he’s going to figure out a way home.

_______

Darkness (T) 710w

Tags: No Archive Warnings ApplyTony StarkKarl MordoDormammu (Marvel)Alternate UniverseMovie: Doctor Strange (2016)Sorcerer Supreme Tony StarkMagic User Tony StarkAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanon-Typical Violenceno beta we die like tony stark

Sorcerer Tony Stark defeats Dormammu in his own way. (AU where Tony Stark went to Kamar-Taj.)

_______

[themculibrary]

Peter Quill Masterlist 2

part one

20 questions (ao3) - bevioletskies gamora/peter T, 118k

Summary: Wasp has a new competition in store for the students of Avengers Academy, and there’s money involved. So obviously, Peter and Gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. Wait, what?

a bother-figure (ao3) - judypoovey T, 7k

Summary: It wasn’t going to do him any good to get all sentimental and excited about meeting his dad, considering his dad had kidnapped his sort-of-replacement dad.

all fucked up and no place to go (ao3) - scioscribe drax/gamora/peter E, 4k

Summary: Peter Quill is the only omega in all of space.

It sucks.

A Matter of Restraint (ao3) - fayedartmouth T, 3k

Summary: Peter’s not exactly known for his brilliant strategies.

And Get Nowhere (ao3) - Wawa_Girl gamora/peter T, 7k

Summary: "Why?" Gamora asked from several feet below them, an eyebrow raised and her tone slightly less hard - curious, suspicious, like she wasn't sure whether to buy this explanation.

Peter didn't know if she was asking, 'Why is that a common joke on Earth?' or 'Why weren't you thinking before spitting it out right now?' but either way his quick reply was the same. "No idea!" he said with the biggest fake smile. "No clue, makes no sense, stupid--I don't know why it slipped out, meant nothing, forget it, I'm sorry..." he continued rambling and reassuring to spare himself the fate of sleeping outside for the next month during the impending hail storm.

(Or: Sometimes Peter has really bad "no filter" days, and rooftop antics ensue.)

Base of Support (ao3) - interabang T, 3k

Summary: The Guardians discover that Yondu would do anything (when he feels like it) to give Peter help when he needs it.

break the chain (ao3) - evotter T, 16k

Summary: “Thanos is the worst threat you could possibly imagine.” Gamora says. Her voice sets a chill in Peter’s bones. “We need to get ahead of him as quickly as we possibly can or we will lose if he even gets the slightest bit in front of us. Please, Peter Parker. We need all the help we can get. You do this for us, and we will do something for you. Anything you need.”

Anything is pretty nice. Especially considering he might need them to guard him so Tony doesn’t totally murder him. And they seem like nice enough people. And if Strange trusts them… “Okay,” says Peter, rather reluctantly. “I’ll go with you guys to space.“

(or: peter contacts star-lord and meets the guardians of the galaxy. not infinity war/endgame compliant.)

bring it on home to me (ao3) - bevioletskies T, 19k

Summary: The fight of everyone’s lives may be over, but for Nebula, Peter, and the rest of the Guardians, the search for the person they love most has just begun.

don’t need no credit card to ride this train (ao3) - Sholio T, 5k

Summary: Peter gets a second chance to make a very important change.

Five times Rocket claimed Peter as his own (and one time he realised what it meant) (ao3) - prosodiical peter/rocket T, 4k

Summary: "You," says Rocket lowly, "keep your distance, and I won't have to kill you." He pauses, then adds, as though it isn't obvious enough already, "He's mine."

Rocket's got a bit of a possessiveness problem when it comes to Peter Quill.

Fox on the Run (ao3) - Sholio T, 13k

Summary: When bounty hunters get the drop on Yondu, 11-year-old Peter is the only person in a position to do anything about it.

Go For The Throat (ao3) - laylabinx T, 9k

Summary: Peter finds out the hard way what it means to be the Ravager mascot and Yondu uses this as an opportunity to teach him how to kick someone’s ass.

Happiness Goes On (ao3) - Wawa_Girl gamora/peter T, 25k

Summary: "What does it mean? The day the music died?"

The words were said without the inquisitor looking at the human beside her, owner and expert of the tunes they were sharing.

"I guess..." Peter spoke up, his tone distant. Faraway. Lost. Gamora realized she would have given nearly anything to obtain Mantis' powers and know what he was feeling, what was going on in his head. "It means when people stop...appreciating it. Or learning from it? Or...use music to do...bad things."

Please Rewind (ao3) - interabang gamora/peter E, 4k

Summary: When Rocket and Groot gift Peter with a TV and VHS tapes, he’s excited to relive his childhood memories with the group - so excited, in fact, that he won’t stop talking throughout the movie. After his rambling drives the other Guardians away, Gamora quickly finds a way to shut him up.

Ruins (ao3) - TheFictionalMe gamora/peter M, 51k

Summary: Five times Peter told Gamora to go right, and one time he didn’t.

“Why does somebody always have to die in this scenario?”

Vacation! All I Ever Wanted (ao3) - clockheartedcrocodile gamora/peter E, 7k

Summary: The Guardians of the Galaxy have a nice day at the boardwalk.

you lay your bets and then you pay the price (ao3) - orphan_account gamora/peter T, 32k

Summary: (or: five times Peter idiotically risks his life for Gamora, and the one time he… can’t)

Zuneology (ao3) - interabang gamora/peter T, 13k

Summary: After the war, Gamora listens to Peter's music player and reflects on her memories with him.

[grineerios]

Insomnia won and I got around to writing things down about my Operator and Drifter instead of just letting my thoughts do laps of my brain. So uh. Long-ass backstories, I guess?

I do have memory loss so I'm not entirely sure how canon-compliant this is, but I guess there's no harm with a few tweaks if I had fun doing it lmao

New War/Duviri Paradox/Main Story quests spoilers(?)

(I do not have names for these nerds, but I'll update whenever I figure that bit out. I've debated calling them Sigma (O) and Lavan (D) after railjack parts, but it just doesn't suit them. I guess only time will tell)

Both Operator and Drifter are He/They, and AroAce. I haven't figured out their gender(s) yet, because gender is hard.

THE DRIFTER

Drifter is a very different man when interacting with Duviri and the Operator, versus everyone else. To most of the world, he's a stubborn individual with a streak of having a short temper. His seemingly obsessive need to have some kind of control can easily get on folks' nerves, making him a hard person to work with. Occasionally, though, one can see a small glimmer of the man behind the persona.

When it comes to Duviri, as well as with The Operator and other children, a laid-back, almost jovial man emerges. He has a very strong "what happens, happens" philosophy. When faced with adversity, he mocks it. When faced with hardship, he pushes through with a stiff upper lip. When faced with loss, he waves his hand dismissively.

But this isn't the full truth either.

In reality, The Drifter is an extremely anxious person with a desperate need to protect The Operator, especially after the events of The New War. This manifests as him flip-flopping between letting the Operator do what they want, and needing to control and have a say in everything the Operator does.

When in Duviri, this anxiety manifested slowly over time, starting with the Void's subconscious influence on Duviri. The landscape's shape was the first to change, next the sky turned to Void-like clouds, followed by the fracturing point- the Zariman itself appearing in the sky.

Up until this point, the Drifter was a mere side character in Duviri's story, a manifestation of an unimportant and uneventful life far away from the horrors of 10-0. Primarily, he was a Tammherd, moving flocks across Duviri's verdant islands, even as the Void's influence poked and prodded at the memories he'd repressed.

After the 10-0 appeared in the sky, however...

Everything changed. No longer could he pretend that things were well, that the Void-spirals didn't poke at his mind, that the Void-forsaken ship wasn't real, that Duviri was all he'd ever known.

As his anxiety grew, Dominus Thrax became more and more maniacal, pushing new laws and standards that began crushing at Drifter's soul and personality, hardening him into apathy after being hunted again and again for seemingly infinity.

Long forgotten were the days of falling asleep under the stars, having nothing but a Tamm for a pillow- no, now his days were split between the void-contaminated Zariman and being hunted and executed by Thrax. The songs of Void Angels and the scream of arrows and blades set the soundtrack for his life, replacing the shawzin music he'd formerly enjoyed playing.

No matter how Thrax decided to execute him that day, he'd always wake up, lost in the world foreign to him of the Zariman, a horrifying feeling tugging at his mind as he wandered the halls, confused and lost. But.. he'd always find his way back to Duviri. Through a vent, a door, a mirror, or a broken screen- it didn't matter. He always found his way back into his personal hell away from hell, doomed to live in his damned loop forever.

On one of these loops, before Teshin beats into their thick skull that yes, you can just leave this situation dumbass, while stuck in the Zariman, he was injured by either a void-touched item or a Void Angel. Throughout subsequent spirals, void crystals began to grow from the wound. And it hurt like a bitch. If he'd ever let you look at the wound- or the scar, as it presents itself in the Origin System, you might faintly see the curled spikes, if you squinted, as they're mysteriously mostly invisible when exposed to direct and indirect sunlight. Under artificial light, they're slightly more visible, but the Drifter intentionally wears clothes with baggy sleeves so as not to worry The Operator. Regardless of where he is, undercroft or origin system alike, the crystals feel like it buries itself deeper and deeper into his flesh when he uses transference.

We all know how the story ends. With the help of Teshin, the Drifter finally Gets A Fucking Grip On Things and is able to voluntarily exit and enter Duviri at their leisure. The only real difference is that instead of Lotus' hand granting the Drifter Transference, it's his void injury that allows for weak Transference within the Undercroft. He must make physical contact with a Warframe to transfer into it, even after his Void abilities are strengthened in the New War.

THE BEFORE

Before the void-jump incident, and before Eternalism made the Operator and the Drifter, there was the Before.

The Before was an isolated and distractable child. He didn't do well at school, often losing himself in thought and awe over whatever was outside the nearest window. His parents were botanists and agricultural specialists who helped to tend to and monitor the Zariman's agricultural biomes. Sometimes, much to his parents' frustration, he'd skip school to watch them work. They often would joke that they wished he'd pick a normal activity to skip school over, like Lunaro.

Although he did eventually pick up Lunaro and tried to learn shawzin, he never was far from the agri-zones if he could help it. There was something that pushed away his fears. Besides, if these plants could grow here, then who was to say he couldn't thrive cultivating life in Tau?

Aaaaand then the void jump incident happened.

Of course he wasn't paying attention when it happened. He was wayy too distracted by all the amazing colors in Saturn's rings. Melica's words all sounded like the same stuff he'd hear her say after day. Blah blah blah Entrati this Golden Masters that and who could forget the Seven? Drivel. Meaningless drivel. It mattered a lot to the adults but not to him at all.

The jump hit him like a truck, when the force knocked him out of his seat, and when beautiful Saturn was replaced with the eerie, wispy void. That's when he felt fear nag at him.

In the time before Wally made their deal with him, he somehow managed to get a grip on his emotions and channeled that fear into taking control of the situation, despite shaking the entire time he was checking in on folks. He buried his emotions, focusing on the new drive in his heart, to protect the others. Even if he was a little... Blunt. Or rude. Or aggressive about the whole thing. No matter how hard you try to hide intense emotions, they'll bubble out somehow, and I doubt the Void helped with that very much. But, his practical and stubborn mind kept most of the kids he was with safe- until the Orokin dubbed them Tenno for the Operator, or until he decided to go search for more survivors alone in the Zariman, wandering the vents while the others were found and taken away; Left behind, becoming the Drifter.

I don't think the Drifter ever forgave himself for letting that happen. Even if it was because Wally twisted words.

THE OPERATOR

In the present, the Operator is less angry, and less socially isolated than the Drifter. What they lack in comparison to the Drifter's temper and isolationist tendencies, they make up for in flippancy and spite.

He took well to transference, and his training as a Tenno under the Orokin empire gave him a sense of purpose. He'd protected his kind on board the Zariman, and he'd continue to protect them even now. With the help of his warframe, a Volt, he'd stand by their sides, and ensure everyone made it out alive. They were his Tenno fellows. His Clan.

As time went on though, his faith in the Orokin evaporated, as he saw how little they actually cared about his friends and himself. Vowing to never trust Orokin word again, he relished the Night of Naga Drums, when he finally got to strike back at the Orokin for their foul play.

His distrust of the Orokin carried over from Margulis to the Lotus, instead, looking up to the Dax remaining after the fall of the Orokin empire, knowing that they too had likely been manipulated and used by their Golden Masters.

Even knowing he'd been hurt and exploited by the Orokin, he had (and still has) a hard time seeing himself as anything but an Orokin weapon, the confusion and intensity of which only became more overwhelming after awakening from the Second Dream.

Things only got worse from there, really. His distrust of Lotus burned into outright hatred and he isolated himself from his fellow Tenno, occasionally doing mercenary work for syndicates like the Arbiters of Hexis and Steel Meridian. What purpose the Lotus had offered, he rejected, leaving him with a void in his life. Depression set in, and all he could do was wait for purpose to find him.

THE PRESENT

(My memory is fuzzy on details of The New War, so I'll need to replay it before getting into specifics about what Drifter and Operator were doing at the time. but.)

In the aftermath of the New War, the Operator has brought himself to understand that Lotus too was manipulated by Orokin power. This doesn't completely nullify his feelings, but does certainly mellow them out a bit more, to the point that he willingly participates in Tenno culture once more.

Drifter and Operator are working together, although Drifter insists on doing most Tenno missions, saying that the Operator should "catch up on being a kid" while they have the chance. This of course, does not help the Operator who desperately needs to get out and do things, as they're prone to going stir-crazy if they can't do anything for even short periods of time.

Despite having the transference circuits damaged in the Old War, the Operator almost exclusively uses his Volt, who's probably the closest thing he has to a best friend post-New War.

In the times when he chooses to, or is forced to use transference, the Drifter uses primarily an Oberon, followed closely by a Kullervo and Excalibur Umbra, the latter being an ideal choice as he doesn't require transference to be useful.

TL;DR

My Drifter is typically stoic with a hotheaded streak and a tendency for intimidation as the solution to problems. This, of course, is all fueled by a desperate need to protect people, and keep the Operator above all, safe. He's kind at heart, but it's a side rarely seen by anyone other than children or animals.

My Operator is an immature ball of spite, nigh-dependent on other people for his purpose in life. He shares Drifter's anger and aggression, but it's tempered with a strong sense of justice. He's deeply bonded to his Warframe, and the two are nigh-inseparable. Has an insatiable thirst for action, and is high-energy.

Both of them desperately need therapy and ADHD meds.

[gaslightgallows]

prompt: “Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.” Thor and Valkyrie

There was a lot to do when they finally reached Earth.

Valkyrie’s public reunion with the king was brief and terse.There was nothing either of them could say, except, “I’m glad you’re stillalive.” And each of them meant it, even if they couldn’t accept it forthemselves. Neither of them especially wanted to still be alive, but that wasthe state of things, and they would rather be alive and on the same planet thandead and floating through space.

In private, they said even less. Simply found a bed, curledaround each other and went to sleep. They had never shared a bed before butneither of them questioned it.

There was work to do. Not rebuilding, because there wasnothing to rebuild, but starting over. Helping what remained of Asgard to startover, at least. It wasn’t a new beginning for Valkyrie and she knew Thor feltthe same. They had lost too much to begin again; they could only endure theending for as long as it had to last.

Thor was known on Earth, and the northern countries werewilling to make a gift of land to one of the old gods, especially one who hadhelped save the world so many times. It wasn’t Asgard, and it would never behome for him or for her, but the air smelled a little like the seas that werenow lost. That small bit of familiarity hurt, but it was the least of all thehurts they shared.

They each knew the other’s hurts now. They were lesspainful, somehow, than their own, so they kept them carefully.

They fell in beside one another, working to build andfinding ways of supporting their people in this new place. Fishing was notglamorous, but it paid, and brewing and distilling were things that Asgardiansexcelled at, and that paid even more. They got by.

Always, at the end of the day, they shared their hurts, theyshared a drink, and they shared a bed. He was king, but a king who had seenmany right hands crushed. She was a warrior, but a warrior alone, withoutfellowship. There was too much behind them to let them build anything newtogether, but they lived, and if they could not live for themselves, they couldlive, at least, for each other.

(Find me on Patreon and Ko-fi!)

[in-a-cave-with]

a list of fic ideas that i constantly think about all the time yet have neither the time nor skill to actually write them (from least to most absolutely off the shits ridiculous):

being framed for murder isnt all that great mr stark: (mcu) just as the title might imply, it entails spider-man being accused of the murder of general ross. peter then starts receiving messages from the actual murderer telling him that they’re holding his aunt hostage and that if he wants to get her back safe he has to follow their orders in order to carry out their next devious plan. peter plays along to track down the killer, undermine their plan, and prove his innocence. tony tracks down peter to get answers about this extremely worrying situation (as peter taking matters into his own hands and going off the radar makes him look 300% more guilty in the government’s eyes). 

my friend the ghost of captain america: (616) it turns out director stark's hallucinations of the recently dead steve rogers aren’t all hallucinations, because occasionally they’re actually the semi corporeal form of the actual steve rogers, who managed to free himself from the effect of the time bullets somewhat! emphasis on somewhat. follow tony and ghost steve as they try to turn steve back to normal while disagreeing on basically everything how to go about doing it. oh, and also extremis is slowly killing tony after it started malfunctioning from the fight with the mandarin (he’s not going to tell anyone this though)

hearts of kyber: (mcu-aligned, star wars au) tony stark (former imperial engineer turned empire’s most wanted after he sabotaged the early death star plans) runs into peter parker (former jedi padawan turned bounty hunter turned rogue after order 66) on a planet colonized by kree soldiers. they manage to escape the planet together and are picked up by nick fury (who is really mace windu with a prosthetic hand and eye also on the run from the empire). he eventually recruits them for his squad of rebels, nicknamed the avengers. together they carry out various missions for the official rebel alliance, and discover hidden plans from a secret sect of the empire’s engineering division for something called “UL-TRON”

space-dust crusaders: (616-aligned, jojo au but set mostly in space) after a fight with an enemy stand user [axis], tony stark (alter ego iron man) now has an evil double from another dimension named Superior who uses his own stand power [extremis 3.0] to give tony a disease that reaches fatality within 50 days (as he tells tony in a dramatic evil monologue). after the rest of the avengers (a team of stand wielding superheroes) manage to chase him off of earth superior fucks off to a far off planet and sets up a base there with the ultimate goal of taking over the galaxy, recruiting multiple stand users to help his cause. after finding out about tony’s predicament a couple of tony’s friends on the avengers team board a spaceship to find said planet that superior fucked off to and kill him to get rid of the sickness, but what they DON’T know is that tony has managed to tag along for the ride with every intent to bring down his evil double himself

[strawwritesfic]

Thor Odinson x Female!Pregnant!Stark!Reader: Shock

Summary: Rule number one: Don’t come between a thunder god and the love of his life.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (some coarse language; references to sex; Thor & Sif friendship; one-sided!Sif/Thor; set post-Thor Ragnarok; not Avengers: Infinity War compliant; Tony’s little sister!Reader; overprotective sibling!Tony; eye patch!Thor; Stark Tower; reference to Agents of SHIELD)

Challenge: "160 Collective Drabbles" challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.  

Shock

Manhattan could not have been more different from Asgard if it had set itself up to be so. Crowds of people and of vehicles, smog, the noise and smells of street vendors all moved through the narrow spaces between blocky, towering buildings. A steely blue-gray sky peeked out only occasionally to dazzle pedestrians—pedestrians such as Thor and Sif.

“It is good to see Midgard is as well as we left it,” Thor commented as he and his companion swam upstream in the direction of their goal.

Rather than watch the approaching throng, Sif looked down and pulled at the cuff of her sleeve. “I’m still not sure about the clothes,” she said with a frown, “or about having Heimdall drop us off so far away.”

Indeed, both she and Thor had dressed themselves in garb more fitting of Midgardian civilians rather than Asgardian warriors. Thor thought he looked fine enough, but Sif did have a point. Her long woolen coat and scarf did not suit her the way her usual armor did.

“I enjoy a brisk walk,” he answered, then grinned, “and my arrival is to be a surprise. Heimdall’s typical method of deposit could hardly hope to avoid Stark’s attention for very long.”

“Aye, or that Strange fellow.”

“Or the Strange fellow. He I cannot afford to deal with this day.”

Though a small one, Sif allowed herself a smile of her own. “You truly are looking forward to see her, aren’t you?”

Thor’s smile grew softer. “It has been too long.”

“Asgard has had need of you.”

The lofty figure of the previous Avengers’ headquarters broke out of the otherwise uniform backdrop of metal and brick. Thor and Sif both drew to a stop in front of its smooth cement steps.

“And now that it does not, I hope to spend just as much time here. I am glad you agreed to join me, Sif.”

“Oh, I’m not joining you in surprising your girlfriend,” Sif said cheerfully.

His face twisted with confusion. “You’re not?”

“No, I rather think doing so might come across as awkward. I planned to visit the Son of Coul this afternoon during your joyous reunion.”

“It would not be awkward if you were there.”

“How little you understand of women.” Sif stepped around him, turning on the sidewalk to wave goodbye. “I will join you this evening. Give my regards to [Name].”

Her dark head disappeared into the constantly shifting horde of Midgardians before Thor could attempt to change her mind—not that he had much of hope of doing so. Once Sif chose a course, she saw it through. Though Thor felt slightly disappointed by the temporary loss of the last of his closest friends, he took heart in knowing that she meant her promise to return by sunset. Perhaps she was even correct. He had accepted Sif’s unreturned feelings for him with grace and appreciation. His girlfriend that had not seen him in eight months might not find it in her heart to do so.

Thor blinked to find he’d been waving after Sif for the whole of his ruminations on his tangled web of female relationships. A few nearby onlookers stared. He waved at them as well, then rapidly climbed up the steps to the door.

His heart pounded so hard that it nearly hurt. Since he had grown up fighting monsters larger than himself, he could only guess that Sif leaving him alone for his “joyous reunion” was more troubling than he knew. Jane—the sweetest-natured being Thor had ever met—had slapped him for a long absence before. What you would do to him, he could not guess.

His shoulders squared, Thor forced himself to step inside the tower. If you slapped him, it would not hurt. If you were angry, then he would simply have to do everything in his considerable power to prove his feelings for you were true. That was all. He was confident that he could manage that much. After all, while he had not entirely prevented Ragnarok, he had managed to get a considerable portion of the Asgardian populace to safety and mend his own bridges with his brother—neither an easy feat to do on its own. Surely re-winning the heart of his love would be simple in comparison.

This decided, Thor’s cheer returned. He strode with purpose toward the elevator…only for the doors to open before he arrived in front of them. A figure in jeans and a dark shirt stepped out.

“Stark!” Thor cried jovially. The sudden appearance of his friend called for a hug, he thought, but Tony put a hand out to forestall him.

“Easy there, Point Break. Where do you think you’re going?”

Thor stepped back, confused enough to momentarily forget the quarrel he had over that particular nickname. Tony stood with his feet braced on the floor and his arms across his chest.

“I do not understand. Did you come down here to stop me from entering the building?” Thor asked.

“Not the building, obviously, but close enough. We’ll count you right on the first guess. Color me surprised.”

“But how did you—”

“Know you were coming?” Tony interrupted. “I didn’t. Thought you were still in space. FRIDAY caught you on security cams waving to Xena for about five minutes. You’ve got some nerve.”

At first Thor could not figure out what had Tony so annoyed. This “Xena” was Sif; that was easy enough to work out. It was not the first time someone on Midgard had referred to her as such. Then it hit him: What if what Sif feared was true?

“That was the Lady Sif,” Thor assured him. “She is my friend.”

“Friend with benefits?”

This phrase Thor truly did not get the gist of. “She benefits me in battle through her strength and—”

“Woah there. Don’t care. Don’t want to hear it. Must not be benefiting you that much if you lost an eye.”

Though puzzled, Thor was determined to fulfill his quest. He could find an answer to the riddle of Tony’s strange attitude later on in the day. It was not he that Thor had come seeking, after all.

“I have come to see [Name],” he said in his politest of tones. “Where is she?”

“You think I’m gonna tell you? She’s got enough on her plate without you breaking up with her.” Tony turned and walked into the waiting lift. “Goodbye. I won’t tell her that you came by.”

Being rude to Thor was one thing. Keeping him away from the woman he loved was another. He braced himself in the middle of the elevator doors and shoved them apart with a great shriek of metal.

“Don’t you dare break my house!” Tony shouted.

“Then tell me where [Name] is.”

Tony frowned. “On second thought, break my house. Better that than my baby sister’s heart.”

That was, as the Midgardians put it, the final straw. With very little effort on Thor’s part, he pushed the rest of his body into the elevator.

“Main elevator door is compromised,” said a female voice from somewhere above their heads.

Tony lifted his eyes heavenward. “Thank you, FRIDAY. I know.”

“Whatever problem you have with me, we can talk it over later. I promise you that I have no intention of breaking your sister’s heart,“ said Thor.

“What, like you haven’t already?”

“Please. Unless you’d like to fight over it. I would leave, if you could defeat me in one-on-one battle.”

Tony eyed the “umbrella” in Thor’s hand with obvious trepidation.

“Your funeral,” he muttered at last, then lifted his voice to add, “FRIDAY, take us to [Name]’s floor.”

“Right away, sir.”

The broken lift doors wobbled as the mechanism sprang to life. Empty doorways and solid floors flashed past Thor’s eye.

“That’s more like it!” he said enthusiastically.

“You try to push me out of here, and the deal is off,” Tony said.

“I would not dream of it, my friend.” It was only an unfortunate side effect of Thor’s might that the jovial clap he gave Tony’s back sent the latter stumbling forward. “Sorry,” Thor said, in reply to Tony’s scowl. Perhaps now would be a better time to try making nice than later. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” Tony replied shortly. “I’ve got a kid in Queens that’s busting my ass.”

“I have been busy also. Much needed doing in the other Realms. Many battles have been fought since last we met.”

“Right.”

Luckily, Thor was not required to attempt further small talk. The elevator slowed, and FRIDAY announced:

“Now arriving at the floor belonging to [F Name] Stark.”

Tony wasted no time shoving around Thor and heading for the hall beyond the gaping space before them. Thor followed at a trot; a faint static electricity surrounded him.

“[Name]!” Tony shouted. “You’ve got company! I tried to kick him out, but he wouldn’t take the hint.”

“Who is it?” asked a new voice from nearer by than Thor expected.

The entrance hall led into a spacious living area. A figure rose clumsily from one of the chairs inside.

“[Name]!” Thor said, and you froze. Something about you didn’t look quite right, but in his eagerness, it took him a few seconds to realize what it was. The size of you; that was it. “You are…enormous!”

You certainly were. Though one palm was spread across your stomach, the obvious swell there could not be missed.

“Thor?” Your eyes widened so far they looked in danger of popping right out.

“Happy now?” Tony demanded. “Now will you leave?”

This shook you from your stupor well enough to level a glare at your older brother. “Tony,” you said in a warning tone.

“What? The guy knocks you up, disappears for eight months, and comes back with another woman. What am I supposed to think?”

“That I can handle myself?”

“Hardly.”

“You’re pregnant?”

Thor did not know why he asked. The proof stood right in front of him. Outside of a handful of inter-dimensional parasites he knew of, nothing could cause your body to look as it did then. He was fairly certain you had not been to space since he’d last seen you, so pregnancy seemed the only option.

You turned a wry smile on him. “You’re missing an eye?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So’s mine. You’re seeing someone else?”

His eye cut toward Tony, and this time Tony had the sense to back into the adjoining kitchen. If he had ruined Thor’s relationship with you through blurting out falsehoods, they would have words. Thor took a step in your direction. You did not back away, something he took as a good sign.

“The Lady Sif has friends on Earth as well, so she traveled here with me. We are friends. Nothing more.”

Your expression didn’t change. Tony coughed in such a fashion as to suggest that Thor had far overstayed his welcome. Imploringly, Thor took another step toward you.

“Is it mine?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Who else would it belong to? The kid is huge.”

Thor let out a roar that made Tony flinch—but not you. You knew it was a roar of delight. At last—after months of waiting—Thor closed the gap between you. He wanted desperately to lift you into the air, but held himself back. Spinning you around in circles in the air might disturb the baby. Likely human babies were more fragile than the babies Thor had grown up around. Instead, he stopped and took you in, the smell and the sight of you after so much time had passed.Then he held a hand out toward your belly.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

Permission granted, Thor crouched, ran his palm around the swell, and pressed his lips to your shirt. You laughed as you kissed the top of his head. For those few seconds, he felt like it was just the three of you in the entire world—before Tony cleared his throat impatiently and ruined the effect.

“That’s it? You forgive him? Just like that?” he asked.

“What do you want me to do?” you replied hotly. “Kick him out on his ass?”

“Maybe! At least make him work for it!”

At that, Thor stood to his fullest height. Only your steady hand on his bicep prevented him from making to show Tony his displeasure.

“You would keep me from my own child?” he said in a voice full of cold fury.

Tony was not intimidated. “You kept yourself from your own child. ‘Much needed doing in the other Realms,’ remember?”

“It did. Had I known—”

“Had you bothered to keep in contact with her, you mean.”

“That’s enough,” you said sharply. Even Thor fell silent when you used that tone. But your hand slid into his open palm, and he knew that it was not he that was in trouble. “He came back, Anthony. That’s what’s important.”

Tony threw his hands up in defeat and turned to leave. “Fine. See if I ever play overprotective brother for you again.”

“I never asked you to play overprotective brother.”

“You’re grounded,” Tony called over the noise of the elevator grinding back to your floor.

“You can’t ground me! I’m a mom!”

As the sound of Tony leaving grew fainter and fainter, you and Thor held very still. Neither of you dared to breathe. About five minutes passed before he asked: “Is he gone?”

You answered by pulling him in for a very long, very passionate kiss.

“Tell me,” Thor panted afterward, “what is the baby? What did you name it? Did you truly think that I would not come back to you? When—”

“Later.” When you kissed him a second time, it was brief, but you smiled into it. “I take it we’ve got time to talk about it? You’re not planning on running off on me again any time soon?”

“Not unless the ship really needs me. I put Loki in charge of the people, and I put Heimdall in charge of Loki. There shouldn’t be any need for me until they all get here.” Then Thor recalled his conversation with Sif from earlier that very day, and a faint tendril of guilt crept into his stomach “Sif said to give you her regards. She did plan to stop by when she finished with SHIELD. Will that be okay?”

Your dragging him toward the couch was answer enough. “Fine, but she is not sleeping up here with us. I don’t need Tony dreaming up a ménage à trois on top of everything else.”

“No, I agree. She can sleep in one of the guest quarters.” As Thor spoke, he pulled your back against his chest with one hand and began to rub your upper arm with the other. “Now, tell me everything that happened while I was gone.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

And you did, snuggled up on the furniture with him. Thor closed his eye and smiled. To think, if he had not come that day, he might have missed the birth of his child. Thank Bor for Sif and her insisting on his coming to see you. Thank Bor for you and forgiveness. Thank Bor that Midgard was different enough from Asgard that it held you, and it held you safe. He couldn’t have asked for a better reunion if he’d planned it out—Tony’s overprotectiveness and all.

[idkxwriting]

carry you - chapter one

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, mentions of Bucky x Reader, eventual Stucky x Reader

Warnings: grief, depression. Angst & eventual smut because I am who I am I guess...

Word count: 2k

A/N: It’s been forever since I’ve written!!! Sorry guys. Hopefully you enjoy this - I know it’s not my usual, but wanted to take a breather from my normal characters for a bit :) Takes place after Infinity War. I guess it will mostly be canon compliant, but I'm just kind of running with stuff, so if anything doesn’t make sense in the timeline just don’t think too hard about it lol. Anyway, no taglist - if you’d like to be tagged, please follow @idkxwriting-taglist and turn on notifications. You can also follow me on ao3 or wattpad

comments, feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated <3 

Requested by anon

Next Chapter | Masterlist

He answers his door with bed messed hair, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He doesn’t even bother to check, which is maybe irresponsible in his line of work, but he knows the routine by now.

He takes one look at you, and knows tonight is worse than most. Your eyes are red with dark circles beneath them. He makes a mental note to ask when you last slept... really slept, and wishes work wasn’t pulling him away as often as it did.

He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your frame. You haven’t been eating, and it shows. He’ll make it a point to cook you breakfast in the morning, but for now... now he just holds you.

You slump against him, and if you had any tears left you are sure you’d be crying, but you’re empty in every sense of the word. You’re a ghost, haunting him because you’re too selfish to let go of the one connection you have left.

Grieving isn’t unique to you, especially these days. But grieving Bucky Barnes is something no one else in the world could possibly understand.

No one except Steve Rogers.

And so you let him hold you. Over the last few months he has become your lifeline, the only thing between you and a complete and utter devastation that threatens to pull you under every second of every day.

He says nothing, instead taking your hand and leading you to his bed. He pulls back the covers, climbing in beside you and tucking you into his chest, because he knows the routine. You nestle in, focusing on his heartbeat, a reminder that you are still here.

Steve is still here.

You are not alone.

His hand traces patterns on your back, soothing you until you drift off wearing Bucky’s henley, and listening to Steve’s heart beat beneath your cheek.

                                                       *****

“Come home to me,” you say.

The first time you say it is in the beginning - the days you can’t stand to be alone. It steals his breath, filling him with an ache in his chest.

You sleep better in Steve’s apartment. There was nothing left for you in Wakanda, but you haven’t found anything waiting for you back home, either. Starting a life without Bucky has been such a daunting task. The places the two of you had once shared are hollow now, and Steve’s home feels safe.

Steve feels safe.

You still carry Bucky everywhere with you, and you know you always will - but at least with Steve you aren’t carrying him alone.

You start staying with him more frequently, until finally you stop going back to your apartment altogether. It’s subtle - a shirt here and there, a toothbrush just in case. A new set of keys so you don’t have to wait outside of the building in the middle of the night.

Then one day you find Steve in his office, building a bed frame.

He blushes when you ask him what he’s doing, shrugging and saying he wants you to feel at home, that his office isn’t really used anyway and he likes the company.

“Besides,” he shrugs. “I promised Buck I’d take care of his best girl.”

You smile at that, the first genuine smile in you weren’t sure how long.

So just like that you move in.

Sometimes you’re even strong enough to stay in your own bed, though more often than not the nightmares of dust and silence find you wrapped in Steve’s arms.

The world continues to move, even though yours has stopped.

And it still needs Captain America.

He finds he hates being away from you as much as you hate him leaving, and there is a part of him that knows if you ask him to stay, he just might.

So instead you hug him before he leaves on a mission, tucking your head under his chin, gripping his waist tight. A soft ritual falling from your lips every time.

“Come home to me.”

                                                         *****

“I keep wondering when I’ll laugh again,” you confess one night. Not just a chuckle, but a full belly laugh, one that makes your body ache and your heart soften.

He takes a deep breath, wishing not for the first time he had Bucky’s charm. Back before the war, before super serums and Hydra, before the world had weighed them both down, Bucky had a way about him. He was quick witted, a flirt - someone who could always make the pretty girls laugh. Maybe if Steve was more like his best friend, then he could make you laugh so your soul would be a little bit lighter.

Instead he promises you will, one day. His chest tightens at the thought of the guy lucky enough to pull such a beautiful sound out of you when you’re ready again.

And then he finds himself aching to know what other sounds could be drawn from your lips.

He shakes it off, chalking it up to exhaustion and loneliness - reminding himself that you’re his best friend’s girl.

He spends the nights holding you until you fall asleep, telling you stories about what Bucky was like as a teenager. You smile sadly, chuckling softly as he regales you with colorful tales of a Bucky long before your time, one you wish you knew.

And then one day you ask him about his life outside of Bucky. He tells you about his mother, how the first girl he had liked crushed his heart on the swing set. He talks about all the ways he had tried to enlist in the war. How things had changed for him after the serum, how women had reacted, but how (even now) sometimes he still feels like that scrawny kid getting beat up in the alley.

He tells you about Peggy, how she had been the first woman he had ever fallen in love with, and how he had never gotten that dance.

More than that, he finds himself wanting to hear your stories. You try to teach him how to cook as you tell him about the time you stole your parent’s car and almost got away with it until you smashed the mirror trying to park it back into the garage. You tell him about your best friend, and the trouble the two of you used to get into.

Then one evening you tell him about the first boy that ever tried to kiss you, and how you panicked because you thought he was going in for a hug, your arms flailing as his head smashed against the bridge of your nose. You had bled all over his shirt, and he had cut his lip open on his braces.

Steve throws his head back, his hand clutching his chest in fits of laughter at the picture you paint. The image of Steve laughing before you is so endearing, so foreign, that you can’t help but to laugh with him. It rolls through your body, and the two of you egg each other on, giggling harder until your sides hurt.

When things calm down again you smile, taking a deep breath.

He was right - one day.

After that the lighter moments come easier, more frequently. You find yourself able to laugh, really laugh, at stories about Bucky, at tv shows you share, and little inside jokes you create in your bubble as the months drag on.

Steve isn’t sure when things began to shift. But he knows from the first moment he hears the laughter bubble up and out of your chest that he is a goner.

There is no stopping it. Even before the world had changed he knew on some level it was inevitable. If things had been different maybe he could continue to build walls, to rationalize and separate. But it’s so gradual, and you’re too close now - tattooed under his skin.

Steve Rogers is in love with his best friend’s girl.

                                                           *****

Over time you learn to welcome the grief. You come to terms with the fact that Bucky had been the love of your life, and that part of your life is over. You settle into a new routine, a life that isn’t built around Bucky Barnes. You know you’ll never be over him, but you have learned that everyone else is moving on, the world doesn’t stop. So you are trying.

Still, you find yourself pulled under once in a while, misery getting the best of you. His memory haunts you, and some days you find it too much to bear.

It’s strange, how you can say his name or look at a photo and feel him close, yet hearing a song or coming across a specific book reminds you just how far he is and overwhelms you.

There is no rhyme or reason to what pulls you back into despair, and on those days you begin to shut yourself in, curling in on yourself only to wake and find Steve wrapped around you, whispering that everything will be okay.

That he misses him, too.

You are grateful for him - Steve, who helps carry your pain, who somehow always manages to be strong when you are anything but.

And when Steve is away, you find yourself walking the city streets, watching life move on and trying to convince yourself you are doing the same.

You spend more time at the library, digging for books that allow you to escape for just a little while.

“I actually read that one, it’s overrated…”

You glance up to see the source of the voice. He is handsome, tall with dark eyes and dimples when he smiles. He introduces himself, and cracks a joke that makes you smile, even if it doesn’t reach your eyes. He carefully snags the book out of your hand and replaces it with an old comic.

You raise your brows, holding the book that has been worn at the edges, bright colors flying off the pages as you flip through it. “A comic book?” You chuckle, amused at the contrast of the depressing drama you were eyeing up.

“It’s a literary masterpiece about good versus evil,” he corrects. He gives a synopsis, telling you why even as an adult it is still a classic. He is funny, and very charming.

And he isn’t the first guy to ask you out since Bucky.

He passes you his number, a shy smile on his face. “Tell you what, you read my recommendation and I’ll read yours. We can critique over coffee.”

Most of the time, Bucky’s face immediately springs to the forefront of your mind, and you find yourself saying no just as quickly because no one can ever measure up, so what’s the point? You love Bucky, and now he is gone. Your story has played out.

You wait for the familiar pang in your chest as you politely pocked his number. Only this time it isn’t Bucky that runs through your head.

Instead you imagine a different set of ocean eyes, a pair of strong arms, the way his fingers trace patterns on your arm as his voice lulls you to sleep.

“I’m not really into the superhero thing,” you shove the book at his chest and shake your head, excusing yourself as tears spring to your eyes.

You don’t stop, your mind racing as you walk all the way back to your apartment trying to clear your head.

You opt to take the stairs when you reach your building. When you are close to your floor your toe catches the edge of a stair and you lose your balance, falling and slamming your knee down. You curse, pushing yourself into a seated position.

And then the floodgates open.

You begin to cry and shut your eyes tightly, holding onto Bucky’s face.

Still, another face creeps in, his dirty blonde hair a stark contrast to Bucky’s dark brown. A wave of guilt steals the air from your lungs as the realization slams into you.

You have feelings for Steve Rogers.

[misstyless]

as someone who shipped sambucky since civil war, I feel like I have to recommend the best pre-tfatws sambucky fics I've read on ao3

double back by flowermasters

Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.

Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.

quick time by flowermasters

He’s never bought Sam a drink in any of the other loops—all ten of them, now. Maybe he should’ve tried that earlier.

Companion to double back.

Thanks by TheHedgehogSong

He opens the door to find Sam standing on the other side. "Me and the others are going to watch some movies in the living area if you're interested." Sam says by way of greeting.

"Steve ask you to keep an eye on me?"

"Yep." Sam replies simply. "So if you could come and sit with us it would make my job a lot easier."

"You're so charming." Bucky deadpans and Sam smiles at him.

"Hey when I'm putting on the charm you'll know." Sam says and jerks his head in the direction of the living area. "Come on, otherwise Clint will start the movie without us and if I miss the start I'm going to be pissed." With that Sam walks away. Bucky watches him for a moment before trailing after him – he guesses there's worst ways to spend the day.

Marriage Counseling for the Inept and Oblivious by ToriCeratops

Or: How Steve Rogers likes to play matchmaker for his infuriating best friends.

my love language is annoying the shit out of you by desastrista

There's a lot of nuances of human romance that Vision doesn't understand, but he thinks he can see what is developing between Sam and Bucky. Even if no one else does.

semi-cataclysmic events by wilsonsnest

It took time travel for Steve to figure his shit out, so Bucky doesn’t think he’s doing too bad.

feat. Old!Steve, Cap!Sam and Pining!Bucky

Flesh And Bones by asgardianthot

in a world where people bond with their soulmates through physical pain, living in the same compound makes the search much easier (or it should, if they weren't so damn stubborn)

When I'm With You (i'm who i want to be) by theappleppielifestyle

Threat, his mind says, but Sam Wilson makes him feel the opposite a threat makes him feel, like he's safer than he has been in seventy years.

Honey, Til I Die You'll Have Me Too by Ithinkwehaveanemergency

Five of Bucky's Friday nights in the months following the battle of Upstate New York.

“You stayed for me?” Sam's voice is a whisper. His eyes are more open and vulnerable than Bucky has ever seen.

“Eh.” Bucky smirks, trying to escape the heaviness of the conversation. “Mostly didn't wanna go back to an era where I wasn't an honorary citizen of Wakanda. God, I love that place .”

three words that became hard to say by suzukiblu

“I wanna step out with Wilson,” Bucky says, audibly traumatized. Steve blinks again, and lowers the shield.

“Uh,” he says. “Come again?”

I just couldn't say it out loud. by ashers_kiss

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes?” Bucky tries.

Are you both courting? by daredeviltrash

Gamora and Mantis asks bird boy and metal arm guy if they're dating. hilarity and sad stuff ensues.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

These Walls are Shakin' with My Heartbeat by Ithinkwehaveanemergency

“Well now I need to know.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Please, enlighten me. Explain why an eighteen year old is so invested in our non-existent sexual relationship.”

“She’s almost twenty. You were at her nineteenth birthday party.” Bucky frowns at Sam, disappointed.

Or

Sam tries to process Shuri's inappropriate suggestion that he should have sex with Bucky, and Bucky won't stop eating his fucking pizza.

6PM/8PM by captainafroelf

Sam gets a call from a world away.

If I'm the Last One Standing, I Would Want to Watch it Burn With You by Ithinkwehaveanemergency

Just before the final fight in Infinity War, Sam and Bucky have a moment.

Or

My canon compliant explanation for why Sam and Bucky are so cozy and content with what happened in Endgame.

Just an illusion by Llixale

Bucky and Sam are back from the Soul stone, unaware that they shared more than the experience of being snapped.

The Simple Life by through_shadows_falling

One year since the Accords, and Steve asks Sam to check up on Bucky in Wakanda. Sam agrees, but the man he finds is the not the man he expected...though that's not exactly a bad thing.

Bucky is a peaceful goat farmer who enjoys the simple life, and who happens to be attractive as hell.

Sam is so freaking screwed.

Takes place between Civil War and Infinity War Part 1.

Alone, With You by cruxcantare

Sam's pretty sure they're dead. Bucky disagrees. But whatever this is, it isn't living.

warm blood (feels good, i can't control it anymore) by notcaycepollard

Sam's just chilling watching TV one evening when Bucky comes in and stares at him silently for a minute or two before sitting down on the couch. He's pretty close to Sam.

Okay, he's really close to Sam. Like, Sam would be using the word 'cuddling' if it wasn't so bizarre.

"What," he says, carefully not looking at Bucky, and Bucky huffs a sigh.

"Steve's not here," he says as if it's obvious. "Don't make it weird. Just- shut up."

Unexpected Houseguest by faeryn

When Sam comes across Bucky in the strangest of places, his first instincts are to run, and to call Steve. He does neither, and in doing so manages to form a strange bond with the Soviet assassin who once tried to kill him. Bucky is broken, a shell of his former self, and Sam wants nothing more than to help return him to himself. But can he maintain a respectable and responsible distance from the man, despite how Bucky draws him in, in order to help him? Or will he falter, and shatter all the progress he has made by giving in to his own desires?

The Multiverse of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam and Bucky find themselves trapped in alternate realities of their lives due to Dr Strange, they have to find out how to get back to their reality.

or

“How come in every fucking universe we’re married?” Sam said, looking around the place, raising his arms in anger and confusion.

“I’m not sure, maybe it’s trying to tell us something.” Bucky replied, shuffling his feet, looking at the ground.

a couple more fics that I remembered later

[aelaer]

I am going to continue to forget to post that I finished this fic, for anyone who wants to read it and hasn't seen it. So yeah! FINISHED.

Fandom: MCU

Rating: Teen

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Pairing: Tony/Stephen (Starts as Pepperony, ends as IronStrange)

Characters: Stephen, Tony, Thanos, Wong, the Guardians of the Galaxy Team, the Avengers Team (basically everyone in IW makes a cameo appearance at some point, with dialogue by a good dozen others)

Other Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Captivity, War, Slow Burn (Realllly slow burn), Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Hurt Stephen Strange (and on a more minor note Hurt Tony, but uh, not as bad), Whump (no prizes for guessing on who), Tony Stark-centric, Stephen Strange-centric, POV Stephen Strange, POV Tony Stark

[ironstrangeao3]

Nervous?

by Doctor_Strange_1963

~~ Originally a roleplay!!~~

"Hey," Tony called out as he walked towards the other man, moments later standing right next to him. "Guessing you're not much of a party person, huh?"

Strange jerked, visibly startled. His entire body then stiffened, and after went loose as it registered. Stark. Stark spoke to him. He stared a moment, still wrapping his mind around the fact that the man was right there, right next to him, talking to him. And then what he asked also finally registered. "Oh, I-- I suppose not." Strange's eyes flicked towards the waves again, and he tried to ignore the rattling of ice in his glass as his hand trembled more. "Not really. No." He paused. "I'm surprised you..." Strange stopped.

Tony could not help but arch a brow towards the man standing next to him, unsure of why Strange was well... acting strange. Not he did not already, what with his magic and spells, all of which Tony had a hard time grasping, even as fantastical as it was. But, for the most part, Strange seemed to be calm and collected. However, watching the glass rattle in his hand, Tony was pretty sure that something was up.

Words: 2034, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange

Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Eventual Romance, First Kiss, Can't read people!Strange, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Originally a roleplay

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/35653150

[boxfullofcats]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jane Foster/Thor Characters: Thor (Marvel), Jane Foster's Mother (Marvel), Darcy Lewis Additional Tags: Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, (I mean it kind of is but kinda isn't), Not The Cosmic Quest Vol. 2: Aftermath (Novel) Compliant, One-Shot, Not Beta Read Summary:

“Jane!” He called again, his heart pounding hard in his chest. They may have broken up - semi-mutually - but that didn’t change the way he cared for her. They needed to work on some things. Thor vowed to do that. He promised to always be there for her. He’d build her her own lab wherever his people settled. She’d have access to anything and everything she needed. He loved her. There remained so little of the ones he loved. He was so glad he hadn’t lost her.

Starts immediately after Avengers: Infinity War

(Lol, guess I'm still alive.)

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

lol okay so I dashed off most of this the day of and then kept not posting it because I kept thinking I needed to add stuff, but then I ended up adding more stuff mostly in reblogs instead (should all be under the “my meta” tag if anyone’s curious) and now episode 2 is technically coming out tomorrow night in my time zone so obviously I need to just post this. bullet points of disconnected thoughts, some of which are probably at least slightly outdated by now but whatever, here you go

seems very possible Mobius left the tape with him on purpose because he figured Loki wouldn’t be able to resist looking at it

would have to check the timing but I’m pretty sure he started looking terrified as soon as Thanos came onscreen without really knowing the context (aside from the very basic outline of “it’s been several years and he reconciled with Thor”), which at least underscores that they weren’t buddies--Loki knew something awful was about to happen the second Thanos showed up sadly this is not true, the clip he sees first is him trying to stab Thanos, so...yeah it stands to reason that he’d know it was about to end badly no matter what

other people have mentioned this but I love that we got to see Loki just like...existing?? like I know he’s never been the protagonist before and seeing him as the protagonist has always been one of the things that’s excited me most about the show, but now that it’s here I’m just kind of struck by how HE’S THE PROTAGONIST so we’re getting all these emotions and little gestures and moments when he’s alone that we only got in tiny, sadly easy-to-overlook snatches before (and it also occurred to me that I don’t think we’ve ever seen Loki eat anything, which is something else that might change)

also his projection is fascinating, and so is the fact that he explicitly turned it around on himself, which seems relevant to all the theories about a lot of his other statements (”freedom is life’s great lie,” most of what he said to Natasha, etc.) being things that were drummed into him on Sanctuary rather than stuff he just came up with on his own, so that seems to cover a lot of the stuff he says in Avengers and here

on the other hand it seems unlikely we’re ever going to get confirmation that Bad Stuff happened to him on Sanctuary aside from what we already saw in Avengers, which is frustrating, although to be fair I also wasn’t expecting to see Loki crying about his family in the first episode (and the most I’m really hoping for, still, is that nothing will explicitly contradict the idea, so...we’re good on that thus far, I guess)

so the first half of the episode was...ehhh, I don’t know, but the second half was amazing. I know some people didn’t like that part either, but I felt like...okay, I don’t love him being humiliated so I would’ve preferred different framing for some of this BUT a lot of casual viewers still see Loki as a cackling caricature without having picked up on any of the stuff that very clearly showed otherwise, and this show wants to treat Loki as a person, someone worthy of audience sympathy, so they kind of had to go in hard and fast on that aspect to get everyone up to speed. like, yes, fans who’ve been paying attention know that Loki’s a person, that he’s wounded, that he doesn’t hurt people just because it’s fun for him, that he feels things very deeply, that he loves his family, but somehow the mainstream perception of him has missed like 85% of that, and the show’s just not going to have much impact unless it gets everybody on board with those very basic ideas. in terms of story structure it probably doesn’t make sense for this to be his lowest point, but starting from the bottom and eventually getting somewhere better is fairly standard, so at this point I can imagine tons of ways things could improve for him

yeah I do hate the whole Sacred Timeline thing, see also my posts about how much I loved that Endgame canonically (I thought) established multiple timelines where everything was fine, so yeah I’m pissed about that because it means those timelines were canonically pruned

like I don’t...hate it as a storytelling device? I just hate it for fandom reasons, and I’ve hated it in other fandoms when canon did something that seemed to open things up to all this incredible possibility and then went “actually no, we’re boxing it up again into this one specific Way That Things Happened” and for fanwork purposes it doesn’t matter all that much, I don’t think it’s actually that much harder to do AUs or go “okay well in this universe the TVA doesn’t exist, whatever” (in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if AO3 quickly develops a new canonical “not TVA compliant” tag for basically all Loki fic), but it is annoying that it’s now like “canonically, every AU is Not Allowed”, and if that ends up sticking as the status quo with the TVA considered good guys or at least a necessary evil then yeah, I’m going to be annoyed

HOWEVER

I don’t think that’s inevitable for a variety of reasons

this whole show is going to deal with multiverse shenanigans and so will Dr. Strange 2, so it seems completely possible that the end result could be a status quo of “there’s a multiverse actually and that’s fine” (...although yes, I’ll be doubly annoyed if the end result of this show is a restored multiverse of some kind and the end result of Dr. Strange 2 is condensing it back down to a single timeline)

the multiverse is a long-running comics tradition, which still seems to be the case even after...whatever event it was that collided a bunch of them and tried for a Highlander thing, look I wasn’t really following it and I know some characters ended up in other universes from where they started but I’m pretty sure we still have a multiverse of some kind

almost all the recent Loki-centric comics have focused on questions of fate and agency

Agent of Asgard in particular was about Loki eventually going “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” and forging a new path (and, okay, it does seem like runs other than AoA have been the most influential here but again we’ve only seen one episode)

Loki, specifically, is an agent of chaos and change, like that’s his whole thing going way back to mythology, because sometimes stagnancy is death and chaos is healthy, and of course myth!Loki (and earlier versions of comics!Loki) is always responsible for triggering Ragnarok, which isn’t just the end of the world but is also a natural, crucial part of a cycle of renewal, and yes the MCU already did Ragnarok but that doesn’t at all mean they can’t play more with those ideas

Tom Hiddleston has brought up this specific point several times in recent interviews, that sometimes chaos is the one thing that's really needed

also, on Jimmy Kimmel the day of the episode, he kind of...planted a seed about the TVA maybe not being uncomplicated good guys because seriously what gives them the right to make these decisions for literally everyone

so at the very least I think it’s completely possible that things aren’t quite what they seem, and that for instance we’re supposed to discover that Mobius is consciously manipulating him to turn him into the type of tool the TVA wants him to be

also “the timeline wants to break free” shows up on a lot of merch, which does seem to indicate a free will vs. predestination theme

I’m not at all familiar with comics!TVA, although I understand they’re considered villains (although to be fair, so were the Skrulls, and at least thus far that’s been inverted for the MCU), but their whole thing reminded me of a few other entities in a way that could be relevant:

the tape running out was like the Norns cutting the thread of somebody’s life

Those Who Sit Above In Shadow in AoA (and also maybe whatever was below the God Quarry in Infinity Wars although I’m less familiar with that)

the gods in Cabin In The Woods, who were also kind of audience proxies in that they really just cared about the sacrifice being entertaining, which kinda seems like the only logical reason for the Timekeepers to prefer any given series of events over another

my personal hope for the series: the Timekeepers are ultimately the Big Bad and the rogue Loki variant is ultimately right in trying to wipe out the TVA (because sure I realize it’s maybe dumb of me but I still don’t want any Loki to be completely a bad guy!!); the major named TVA characters realize they’re the baddies actually and team up with a whole army of Lokis to take them down and GIVE US BACK OUR MULTIVERSE

[ao3feed-lokiangst]

The Timeline That Never Was

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WEfhxy

by bighonkymommymilkers

Sigyn's timeline — her home — is destroyed. Obliterated. Her children, Váli and Narfi, have been stolen from her. Her Loki is dead. Sigyn may be the goddess of nurturing, but Hel hath no fury like a goddess scorned.

AKA

A re-imagining of the Loki Series if the MCU gave more fucks about Norse mythology.

(Inspired by Nanihoo's fanart of a re-imagined Sigyn and Loki in the MCU.)

Words: 854, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Loki (TV 2021), Norse Religion & Lore, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Loki (Norse Religion & Lore), Sigyn (Norse Religion & Lore), Sigyn (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius, Narfi Lokason, Narfi (Norse Religion & Lore), Vali (Marvel)

Relationships: Loki/Sigyn (Norse Religion & Lore), Loki/Sigyn (Marvel), Angrboða | Angerboda/Loki/Sigyn (Norse Religion & Lore), Loki/Sigyn, Loki & Sleipnir (Norse Religion & Lore), Loki & Mobius M. Mobius, Loki & Loki's Children (Marvel), Fenrisúlfr | Fenrir & Loki (Norse Religion & Lore), Narfi Lokason & Váli Lokason, Loki/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Butchering of Norse Mythology, BAMF Sigyn (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Not Canon Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Odin Hate Club, I was unsatisfied with the Loki series and this is the result, Sorry Not Sorry, Not Beta Read, my absolute shit sense of humor, i'm so sorry for the math jokes blame sal khan, I'm riding the high from my dream about snails, I had like ten snails, Imagine my surprise when I woke up and BAM no snails, I was utterly heartbroken and my snail-ridden angst shall drive this story further, Loki is a horse fucker, Or I guess technically the horse fucked him...?, Oh my god wait do I have to tag mpreg, NO NO NO NO, Implied Mpreg, i hate this fucking timeline

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WEfhxy

[amazing-spiderling]

3, 5, 8, 12? :D

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hum. I think I write a lot of weird, niche AUs. Well, I write a lot of standard AUs too (high school/college/etc) but it is very easy to get me excited about mashup ideas or some strange canon divergence ideas and I kind of end up writing these stories that are just... I don't know, I have a hard time imagining people looking for the topic specifically. (Wrote a pandemic AU before it was cool etc.)

Other than that, when I'm trying to really hone my skills, I think I go out of my way to leave things unsaid and force the reader to read into the "negative space" which is maybe something that varies from fandom to fandom, and has just carried over as a style thing from my earlier ones.

5. What's the fic you're the most proud of?

I answered this one already but it was for a weirdass fic that nobody is gonna go read... and you know what, I'm gonna go ahead and list another one. It's called "And of His Nature" and it's another Metal Gear Solid fic (I know nobody here follows me for that, it's just what I've written the most of). It is a really short one that goes back and forth between the perspective of two characters as they make observations and judgements about the other upon first meeting and as they get to know each other, and each section is themed after one of the four elements. It's meant to have a repetitive narrative structure to sort of highlight how those initial opinions differ and change, creating a sense of contrast even as the flow of each paragraph is so similar. Someone once commented that this fic seemed "composed" rather than written, and I think that really captured the way I was trying to put the story together, so I'm glad that it read that way.

8. What character(s) do you find the easiest to write?

Any character who means to do good but is just worn out and weary. It may be because the world has been rough on them, but it's probably got more to do with the fact that they're burning the candle at three ends and have been their whole life and are starting to realize that they don't have much wick left. That can apply to a lot of my faves (haha projection much) as well as some characters I haven't written yet but would like to take a turn at (like Peter B, especially in a more serious fic?) so I guess you can say I have a type.

12. Tell us about a WIP you're excited about.

Oof, okay, so I am one of those people with some WIPs collecting dust and sometimes that's because I'm working with a writing partner and our schedules no longer line up to work on a project and other times it's just because I suck hahaaaa...

But the one I'm keen on right now is a sequel to a Big Bang fic I co-wrote with my pal 343Enderspark two years ago called "Five Years Grown". It was an Spideypool in an MCU compliant universe where we reimagined them as childhood friends, through Peter getting his powers, the events of Homecoming and Infinity War. (Yeah.) It ended on a bit of a cliffhanger for obvious reasons, but it was always planned as the first installment of a trilogy. Things have been slow on part 2, but we are trying to get it out by the end of the year (it's on track to be as long as the first one which was 140k or so), I've had a lot of fun with this one because I got to explore some other characters while Peter has been MIA, including a certain legal eagle you might know and love. Anyways, I'm really excited to develop the plot some more, we have some juicy moments planned for this one. Please go check out "Five Years Grown" and tell us how much you want to see the next part. >.<

[buckyreaderrecs]

Wax and Wane

Summary: Bucky was sure he'd felt all the different types of bad a person could feel. He was wrong. You were pretty sure it was illegal to drive away with an Avenger in the back of your van, but what else could you do? A story about grief that is basically the 'flowers grow in the sidewalk cracks' metaphor fanfictionalised.

Words: 5,614 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Thor Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower still exists, other Marvel characters are mentioned but aren’t central to plot, recovering Bucky, not angsty but a sad story, she/her pronouns Warnings: illness/death, sick children, grief

Note: This was written for Nik's 1k Writing Challenge - @serpienten  My dialogue prompt was, "I'll keep you warm. Hold me closer." I hope you love it, Nik! 

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol.

Wax and Wane

As the paint was brushed gently across their skin in broad strokes, you could read the joy and pleasure in their sweet little faces. It was a very minor and short term relief from their day-to-day pain, but it was the very least you could do. Face painting wasn't going to cure cancer or mend broken bones, but it made the residents of the hospital's children's ward happy.

Most of the long-term patients knew you. You were the girl in the tutu and butterfly wings that would come and blow bubbles and make them smile. But on that day, you weren't the one they were excited for.

The children were in a frenzy as The Avengers entered the room, dressed in their best outfits (minus any dangerous weaponry, you assumed). You stood to the side of the room with the doctors, nurses, and parents, and listened along with an enraptured audience as Captain America and Iron Man introduced the team. The kids couldn't sit for long, so very quickly the nibbles and treats were brought out and the room calmed into a soft party atmosphere.

As soon as you'd set up your station, there was a line of children wanting to have webs and stars painted. You worked quickly, getting through the line fast. Staying put, you only had a chance to briefly survey the room before Liam, one of your most special friends, trotted up to you, pulling along someone new.

"Hey, Liam," you greeted. He let go of his new friend's hand to hug you.

"Look, Y/N!" he said, pointing up. "It's Bucky!"

You looked up at Bucky Barnes, who would have towered over you even if you had been standing. The child's size plastic chair you were on really added a comical size difference though.

"Hi, Bucky," you said, coy smile. Bucky softly smiled back. "You're Liam's favourite,"

"Yeah, I told'ed him that!" Liam said, not a shred of self-consciousness in the child. "And now we can be matching,"

"Matching?" you asked.

"Yeah, 'cause you do the painting and you can paint my arm like Bucky's," Liam explained, holding his prosthetic arm out in demonstration.

Glancing up at Bucky to make sure he was privy to the plan, he simply gave a little shrug.

"Sounds good to me. How about you sit in this chair here, Liam, and we get Bucky to sit right next to us on the floor. Is that okay?" you asked both of them.

Liam jumped into the seat, sticking his arm out ready.

Bucky had a bit of a harder time folding himself down, but he eventually managed to sit in front of you comfortably.

"Okay if I borrow your arm for a bit?" you asked Bucky.

He nodded and held it out to you. When you took it, laying it across one of your legs so you could copy the seams and markings, Bucky held his breath. Most people hesitated. He figured some of them were afraid, and some didn't want to appear rude. Not you though. To you, his arm was just that - an arm. You'd kinda grown used to celebrities (is that what superheroes are classified as? you wondered to yourself) by then. Make a Wish and fundraising events and all that jazz… Turns out most famous people are pretty normal, boring even.

Bucky watched you pull a bunch of markers out of your kit and begin replicating the aesthetic of his vibranium arm onto Liam's plastic prosthetic. He let you gently move him as needed, and found himself in awe of how good your Sharpie skills were.

"You're really good," he said, speaking up for the first time.

Liam held most of the space in the conversation, which was fine by both of you. He told Bucky about his illness, and how even though he'd lost his arm, he was the "luckiest kid in New York" because he was alive and because he got to meet The Avengers. There were shades of adult in his words, like he'd been told of his own luck before.

While Liam spoke, you stole glances at Bucky. Mostly, his gaze was on Liam, sometimes darting over to you and away just as fast; he was avoiding eye contact. However, he quickly would turn to focus on particularly loud sounds or doors opening. If you'd had a chance to watch any of the other heroes in the room, you'd note they all did the same.

"Doin' okay, Liam?" you checked in when the boy had gone quiet.

Liam nodded frantically, not wanting to disappoint. "Yeah!" he affirmed.

"Maybe just need a little nap after this, huh buddy?" you asked.

"Maybe," he replied, relieved that there was a nap in his future.

"Think I might need one too," Bucky chimed in. Liam giggled like it was a joke.

"All done!" you announced.

When the very elated Liam was done tippy tapping and hugging, he ran off to show his parents how absolutely cool he was.

You and Bucky stood, both stretching out your limbs.

"Think you've made a friend for life there," you told him; he softly smiled in reply. "Can I just say something that might be way out of place? I just… I don't know… I feel like you need to hear it."

Bucky frowned, studied your face for a second. "Sure,"

"Okay… So… You do know that you deserve to be here, right?"

Mostly his expression was blank, then his head tilted to the side just a little. You'd been reading him the whole time, he realised. He felt exposed. But there was nowhere to run to.

"Maybe…" he finally settled on saying.

"Maybe?" you scoffed. "I mean, kids are lining up to meet you… And you're not questioning if, like, Wanda Maximoff or Natasha Romanoff should be here, you know what I mean?"

Bucky looked over to where Scarlet Witch and Black Widow were forming a girl gang. "They're different. It's different," he argued, but his words were laced with too much sadness for you to give in.

"Yeah… If you wanna get technical, weren't you the only one under mind control or whatever?" you posed.

Bucky looked at you, tried to figure out why you were being so… persistently kind. Your logic made sense, and something in him considered believing it.

"I'm just saying," you continued, "You deserve to be here. And if you don't wanna accept that, then it can be like… Liam deserves for you to be here."

That, Bucky could get behind. He nodded. "Thank you," he said, awkward but earnest.

You shrugged it off, then took a slow step towards him. "Hug?"

He blinked stupidly, then nodded, opening his arms and letting you step into them. While you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, Bucky hesitated for a moment, then slid his arms around you. People around the room, even the ones that didn't know Bucky, watched how his hands lingered in the air before settling on your back. They saw how he melted into the hug, let his head rest on your shoulder and closed his eyes.

When you stepped away from each other, he'd inherited some of your fairy glitter.

"I'll see you next time, I guess," you offered, letting your sentence trail off enough that Bucky could catch it if he wanted. There was room for him to say anything. But, he just nodded.

Bucky watched you walk away.

Sam appeared at his side. "So, are you gonna-" Sam said, the amusement clear in his tone.

"Don't," Bucky interrupted.

"She's clearly-"

"I said don't," Bucky snapped, walking out of the room.

Sam went to follow, worried he'd genuinely upset his friend, but he caught Steve's eye. A subtle shake of the head told him to stand down.

…

Although you buried it deep inside, there was some small part of you that thought maybe you'd hear from Bucky. You weren't exactly sure why you thought that was going to happen. It was easy to let that idea fall in the face of logic though; he was an Avenger… very busy… very private… etc. etc. Nonetheless, that small part stayed alight, and it fed your dreams all the way through to the next time you would cross paths with Bucky again.

It was a different hospital, but the same type of event. Sparkle and shine and cheer the kids up. Although there were less Avengers than the first, the children were entirely chuffed with meeting their heroes. And, this event had something the previous did not. Thor. His laugh bellowed all through the ward's corridors, providing a sharp contrast to the otherwise sterile mundane life of the hospital.

Thor promised the children that it wasn't that they weren't worthy of wielding Mjolner, it was that they just weren't ready yet. "You're far too little! When you're big and strong, like me!" He filled the children with more hope than they'd had in a long time.

Your attention constantly being drawn to the larger-than-life Asgardian was a welcomed distraction… You were trying to give Bucky space, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he could. You wouldn't push it. Two superheroes that apparently did want to talk to you, though, were Falcon and Captain America.

Like you were their mission, there was hardly a second where one of them wasn't by your side. Sam was entirely unhelpful, giving creative input to all the face painting. He made the kids laugh though, often at jokes that went over their innocent heads. It was his sassy tone they really liked. Steve was a little calmer, answering weird and wonderful questions only children could think up.

They were both charming, personable, and genuinely fun to be around, but what were they doing? Were they trying to coax Bucky in? Provide a buffer? Or, no… Maybe they were keeping you from him? Shaking the thought from your head, you simply blew bubbles and painted faces and covered the room in confetti.

You would have liked to say you didn't notice when Bucky slipped from the room, not returning, but that small part of you most definitely did. It most definitely noticed and you most definitely felt the effect of him not speaking to you, not even offering a smile across the room.

"Did I do something?" you finally asked Steve, not needing to explain the context.

"No… It's not you…" he answered, looking over at the door Bucky had left through. "He's just… He's trying…"

…

The children's ward was quiet. It was like that on Tuesday mornings. No events. Rounds over. Just the everyday life of sick children and distraught parents. As you walked down the corridor, you glanced through open doorways on your way to the nurses' station.

It was a hard place to be.

Something caught your eye and you stopped yourself a second too late, passing the room before you could see what it was. A flash of something. Stepping back, you snuck a look around the corner.

A sunbeam off vibranium. Bucky Barnes was folded next to a bed, his arms crossed on the edge of the mattress, his head resting on them. He was asleep. You took a step into the room, then looked to the occupant of the bed. Your heart dropped. Liam.

Liam was asleep in bed, sweating and small.

Cautiously, you crept further into the room. Neither of them stirred, so you took a chair on the opposite side of the bed to Bucky and reached over to pick up Liam's chart from the end of his bed. It didn't say a lot, just the need-to-know for nurse rotation. But you knew those medications enough to know it was bad. Really bad. The emotions caught were too big. You put the chart back; the plastic-hitting-plastic sound it made woke Bucky up. He shot up, chair almost knocked to the ground if it weren't for his reflexes. He looked across the bed at you then, recognition instant. A worried expression took over his face.

"Y/N?"

"He's sick again," you said, your voice sounding far away.

Bucky tracked your gaze to Liam. He nodded. "Yeah… They, ah… It came back… His parents went home to get some sleep. I said I'd stay." When you didn't move, didn't say anything, Bucky grew nervous. He could hardly handle his own reaction, let alone yours too. "They, the hospital, got in touch when he came back in. Said that… I could help. Make him feel… brave, or… I don't know.. It's been a couple weeks, but…"

He couldn't bring himself to say it and you didn't need to hear it.

"I've… I've got to… go…" you said.

When you stood up, you wobbled on the spot and tried to take a step to the door. Bucky was next to you before you even clocked him moving.

"Come on. Don't wanna wake him," Bucky whispered, helping you out of the room gently.

In the corridor, away from the door, you felt the wet hot tears roll down your face. Stupid, you thought to yourself, you should be used to this. It's happened before. The obvious and cruel downside to volunteering in the pediatric ward of a hospital.

Bucky stood in front of you, watching for only a couple seconds before pulling you into a hug. He squeezed you into his chest, your arms curled comfortably between him and you.

"He's talked about you. He'd wanna see you... Come back this afternoon and see him."

You nodded, keeping your eyes shut tightly.

"Okay," you tried, your voice squeaky and small.

"Okay," Bucky repeated, trying to channel the humanity pre-Hydra Bucky showed when Steve's mother passed away. He knew what to say and do then. "You're okay… Go… Go do what ya need to. We'll be here. I've got him," he said.

When he let you go, you felt cold. You wiped your tears, nodded once and looked up at him.

"Go," he prompted, and you nodded again, turning and walking away.

…

"Yeah, I don't know what that is,"

"Finding Nemo?!" Liam repeated, like if he said it louder Bucky was more likely to recognise the title.

You chuckled from the seat next to Bucky's.

"You knew?" he asked.

"Everyone knows just keep swimming, Buck," you told him with a shrug.

"Guess that's another one for the list then," he said, pulling his phone out and adding the film to his ever-growing list of 'to watch'.

Hours could go by like that. You, Liam, and Bucky sitting around, reciting movie quotes to each other. Guessing titles. Laughing at all the gaps in Bucky's pop culture knowledge. Liam loved feeling smarter than an adult, and he completely lost himself in hysterical laughter when Bucky burst out his chair in joy when he finally recognised a film.

"Star Wars!" Bucky had screamed so loud the nurse came in to shush him. "Luke, I am your father!" Bucky whispered at her, grinning ear to ear. Then there was the Harry Potter time. "I got tricked into watching them," Bucky had said, shaking his head. Apparently, during his stay in Wakanda, Shuri had convinced him that Scarlet Witch and those who attended Hogwarts were from the same breed. He should, she said, watch it so he understands Wanda Maximoff better. Shuri would remember Bucky's face forever when he came back from visiting Team Cap.

"My turn," Liam said. He thought for a second. "I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse," he said, his voice forced as deep as his tiny child body would allow.

"Woah! Who let you watch that?!" you said, completely horrified.

"My cousin David," Liam snitched immediately. "The horse head didn't even look real,"

"It didn't," Bucky confirmed, again, happy to identify The Godfather. "Alright, my turn… Ah… Okay. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

You were as lost as Liam.

"We give up," Liam reported after maybe five seconds of thinking.

"Casablanca?! Come on, guys. It's a classic!" Bucky argued.

"God, you're showing your age," you teased.

"Alright, you do better,"

"Easy," you cleared your throat for dramatic effect, "To infinity and beyond!"

"TOY STORY!" both Liam and Bucky yelled in unison.

Liam then taught Bucky how to act out the "Buzz, will you get up here and give me a hand?" scene, complete with thrown prosthetic.

…

"Theeeeeee… beeeeestest… leaf!"

You and Bucky ran off in opposite directions. The hospital courtyard wasn't exactly bursting at the seams with nature, but it was enough to complete a little scavenger hunt.

On Liam's orders, you returned with the most impressive leaf you could find. Bucky was right behind you. Handing them over, Liam carefully considered them from his bunded up seat in his wheelchair.

"The winner is…" he said, pausing to cough. "Y/N!"

"What?!" Bucky screeched.

"Calm down. It's one-all," you reminded him. His feather was iridescent therefore better than your grey pigeon one.

Bucky grinned at you, ever competitive and ever aiming to make Liam happy. "Alright," he said. "What's next, little man?"

…

"Not today, guys," the nurse replied when you ask if Liam could go for a walk.

"Maybe we'll just read a couple chapters of The Lord of the Rings then, yeah?" you said, turning your suggestion to Bucky.

Bucky nodded solemnly, suddenly and deeply affected by the reminder of Liam's weakening state, of mortality.

Before entering Liam's room, you reached out and touched Bucky's arm. He stopped, looked at you with glossy eyes. You don't wanna see it, think it, but sadness didn't take away from Bucky's beauty.

"You okay?" you asked.

It was a loaded question and almost a rhetorical one. Bucky knew that. He didn't answer, just gave you a weak, lopsided smile.

"You Sam or Frodo today?" he asked, shaking it off and moving again.

…

For the whole time you'd known Bucky, his size had always been so obvious. Sitting beside children, beside Liam, he looked like a giant. Even next to the nurses that came and went he towered. Small hospital chairs. Small plastic cups. Small, sanitised rooms.

So, when you turned the corner and saw Bucky sitting on the floor of the pediatric ward's hallway, looking so fucking small, it stopped you in your tracks. His head was in his hands, and you knew what it meant.

Slowly, step by heavy step, you walked the hallway and came to stand in the doorway of what was once Liam's room. The bed had been stripped of linen, but wasn't yet made ready for the next patient. The charts were gone, and the many tubes and plastic bags of chemicals too. A crushed, empty juice box was on the ground.

Behind you, a nurse cleared her throat.

"Y/N… I'm so sorry… We tried to call ya this morning but-"

"I left my phone at home… I was running late. Locked myself out my apartment. Left half my kit there too. Was late to this fairy party gig I had downtown… Bad day… and-" you were rambling, tears slowly running down your face. The nurse's hand gently cupping your shoulder stopped you.

"S'alright, love… Nothing you could've done. But it's good you're here now. Reckon the Sergeant here might need a little TLC, yeah?"

Nodding, you wiped your tears away on the sleeve of your hoodie. Suddenly, it felt ridiculous to be wearing a pink tutu.

The nurse left you alone with Bucky.

Bucky, who had not moved a single inch since you arrived. Bucky, who looked small. Bucky.

"Let's go," you said, kneeling on the lino floor in front of him. "Think maybe a crying fairy and ah, statue Winter Soldier might confuse the kids… So… let's go."

You thought maybe he wasn't going to reply, but he lifted his head, faced up. Bucky's eyes were rimmed red, but they were dry. He looked haunted. Shaking his head the smallest amount, he told you, "I… I can't… can't leave him…"

"Okay… Okay, yeah. Um…" You looked up and down the hallway, trying to think while your head was drowning in grief. "Alright, um… My van is downstairs, in the lot. Let's just… I don't know, get that far."

Bucky just starred at you. For one… two… three… "Yeah, okay," he agreed, standing.

He didn't say a word as he followed you into the elevator and down to the carpark. People tried to not stare as you walked by.

Arriving at your van, you opened the back and shoved some things out of the way, pulling the small mattress and pillows down from where they were propped up against the side. Turning to face Bucky, you read the confusion in his face.

"Oh, ah… I don't live in it… I just…" There was no point in sugar-coating at that point. "I spend half my time around sick kids, you know? I need somewhere to be when it gets too much. Somewhere to… cry or sleep for an hour or whatever."

Bucky looked from the van to you, gave you a small nod of acknowledgement.

"We can just stay here… for as long as you need…" you offered, feeling embarrassment swell in you, but it quickly gave way to the apathy summoned by abject grief.

If Bucky thought it was weird, he didn't say and you wouldn't have cared. He didn't though. He moved to sit where he could politely unlace his boots and nudge them under the van, then he scooted back onto the mattress, laid down. You crawled in after him, closing the doors behind you.

He'd returned to his state of seeming too big for his surroundings, curled up in the back of your van. When you laid down next to him, he looked over at you. "Thank you," he said, voice croaky.

As tears began to form in his eyes, you had the grace to pretend not to notice. "I think there's a blanket somewhere…" You sat up, looking over a box of costume fairy wings. Before you could locate the blanket, Bucky's arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you into him.

Your back was to his chest, his face buried somewhere between your neck and the pillow.

"I'll keep you warm," Bucky said, "Hold me closer." So, you did, putting your arms over his and threading your fingers between his. You didn't need to be kept warm, but he needed to hold onto something solid, someone living, breathing, real, and there. He needed you.

…

Usually, sleeping in the back of the van was fine. When a super soldier was taking up 80% of the space, however… different story. You lasted forty minutes before snaking your way out, jumping over the front bench seat to sit behind the wheel.

Bucky was definitely dead to the world. You could hear his heavy sleep-induced breathing. But, you couldn't just drive off with him in the back. That would pretty much be kidnapping an Avenger, right? You looked over the seat at Bucky. Waking him up seemed like an equally bad idea, both practically and morally speaking. He was so peaceful.

So, against your better judgement, you got out, grabbed his boots, and jumped back in, putting the key in the ignition and turning.

At every car horn, New York pedestrian, and sharp turn, you glanced over to see if he'd been startled awake. Alas, sleeping beauty. After about fifteen minutes of sitting on your phone when you'd arrived home, parked in the back lot of your apartment complex, you ran out of feeds to refresh. Leaving the car key close to Bucky, where he'd see it, you left him there, figuring he'd probably be able to defend himself if anyone tried to steal the van.

Hours later, close to midnight, you found yourself walking around your place, lost and teary. Pulling your nightgown on, you left your apartment and ventured outside. It was cold. That type of night time chill that only exists when you're at your most sad. Bone freezing. Visible breathing.

There was no reply when you knocked on the back door of the van. Opening it, you were startled by Bucky's upright frame. He was sitting awake, back to the interior wall.

"Buck?"

No reply.

You were a little scared. Unsure of what to do next.

"I… I thought you could use the sleep. We're at my place now…"

Still, nothing.

"Do you want to come inside?"

You chewed your lip for a second, waited, but he remained still. His super soldier body would be fine without food or water for a little while longer, you reasoned. And, he constantly radiated heat.

"I'm apartment 5C. Come up when you're ready."

He didn't look over as you closed the door and retreated back into the safety of your home. There, you cried. Grieved. Tried to sleep. You told yourself you would make him come inside in the morning.

…

The sun rose red over New York City. You'd left your blinds open all night; waking up to natural like was meant to be good for you. Sitting up, you stretched the last remnants of a restless sleep off your heavy body and stepped out of bed.

Maybe Bucky got himself in overnight. Crept in through an unlocked window. Used some sort of superhero technology to unlock the front door. He wasn't on the couch, though, or anywhere in the apartment.

Teeth brushed and coffee brewing, you once again donned the nightgown and headed outside.

At least he's lying down, you thought, opening the van door.

Bucky was back under the blanket. He was awake, the lines under his eyes deep set and sharing space with purple shadows.

"Come on," you said. "You can't stay here. People are gonna come looking for you."

Slowly, Bucky rolled his head to the side to look at you. Previously, he was staring at the van ceiling. "Steve knows," he told you, throwing his phone over. It landed on the blanket with a gentle thud.

You didn't pick it up.

Bucky continued, "Messaged him last night. Phone's dead now,"

"Um… okay… Well, you should still come inside. There's more room,"

"I'm fine."

It wasn't defiance as much as it was apathy. You wanted to say something. Anything. Be reassuring. But to be honest, you were surprised by his grief.

Surely, the Winter Solider knew loss. Surely, he'd mourned and learnt to cope.

No… No, this was different, you told yourself. The first child who passed away when you started working with the hospitals destroyed you. It took a month to even go back to the pediatric ward. Since then, you'd put things into perspective and learnt to process everything a bit better. Not as equipped as the doctors and nurses to do so, but able enough to survive the pain.

The pain. Entirely unique. Something Bucky hadn't felt before.

He really thought he'd felt all the types of bad there was to feel. He really thought he was no longer able to love. Besides Steve. And Sam. Wanda. Nat. Shuri… Okay, so he was kidding himself. Still. It fucking hurt.

…

Around lunch, you took Bucky some food. Around dinner, you found it untouched but replaced it anyway.

It was a Sunday night. In the morning you were expected over at the palliative care centre. Reading aloud to the patients helps.

At 5:30 am, you woke from a fever dream. After shoving the sheets in the apartment building's basement washer, you called the centre.

"Oh, no worries, Y/N," they told you. "Sally's bringin' her new puppy in today. That ought to bring some cheer to the place anyway."

Guilt alleviated only slightly, you trekked to the van.

At least he'd nibbled on dinner at some point.

"Bucky?"

It was dark still, the sun only just waking up. You could make out Bucky's form in amongst your stuff.

"You have to come inside today. I…" Guilt. Maybe a guilt trip would work. "I need my van for work…" It almost sounded like a question. "And, I'm sure you've got things you need to do…" No response. "Superhero stuff?"

A muffled snort, but nothing else.

…

"Any chance you can just leave him there?"

For a second, you thought Steve was joking. The silence at the end of the line said otherwise.

"Ah, I mean, it's been almost two days,"

"I can get a car sent over to you if-"

"No," you interrupted. "That's not it. I'm just… Is this normal?"

Steve sighed. "There's not a normal for us, Y/N. There's just… coping… day by day."

Holding in tears, you nodded to yourself. "Yeah, okay. I, ah, just wanted to check in. See if there's anything I should be doing,"

"I'd wager that you're already doing it… It means something that he's chosen to be near you. He could have run. He does sometimes. So, really, for him, this is… progress. He trusts you."

You're weren't sure what you'd done to deserve that.

"Thanks, Steve,"

"Anytime. Call anytime, Y/N."

When you'd phone Stark Tower looking for help, you didn't really expect to be taken seriously. As it turned out, they were waiting for your call.

…

To your relief, Bucky was sitting up when you opened the van doors around 5 pm. He watched in interest as you awkwardly climbed in, handing him the tray you were carrying so you could settle in next to him.

"Choc chip cookies and tea," you announced, not letting him give the tray back. "And I'm not leaving until you drink your cup and have at least two cookies."

Bucky looked down at the presentation in his lap. "Guess I can't argue with that."

You chewed your cookie slowly, making sure you'd not finish before him.

"Did you make these?"

"Yeah… I bake when I'm… Whatever," you replied.

He nodded, then took another bite.

"You called Steve?"

"How'd-"

Bucky shrugged. "Just figured you would. What'd he say?"

"Um… That you're okay here," you told him.

Bucky didn't reply, instead picked up his mug of tea and held it between his palms. The china softly chinked against his left hand.

You wanted to ask if he was indeed okay, but you weren't sure of what you'd be able to say if he lied. Or told the truth. Or anything in between.

When the tray was empty of food, you climbed out of the van, and half-heartedly asked if he was coming inside.

"I'm fine here," was his equally half-hearted reply.

Together, maybe, you could make a whole person, something functioning and able to cope better than either of you were doing alone.

Back inside your apartment, you ran out of plain flour and dishes to clean. All that was left to do was mourn.

…

It had been three nights and days since you'd arrived home from the hospital. Almost eighty hours of saying goodbye to Liam and telling yourself to be grateful that you knew him, and that you were able to help him laugh and find joy in his final few weeks. Hours of phone calls to friends, family, and your favourite nurses. Hours of standing at your apartment door, ready to march down to the van and pull Bucky out by his boots. Hours of it all.

Like all things though, good or bad, it was waning and you were beginning to see how you could survive.

You were sitting at the kitchen bench, practising your pipe cleaner and pom pom crown-making skills when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at your phone as you stood, you thought it was around dinner time. Probably next door, asking to borrow an egg. Or the old lady from down the hall that always made too much lasagne.

Without checking the peephole, you opened the door with your best polite smile ready.

Bucky.

The sight of him hit you, not like a tidal wave, but a waist-deep wave that knocks you back unexpectedly. You stumbled, had to refocus. Felt a little out of control.

Out of the mess of the back of the van, it was easier to see how utterly fucked he looked. His long hair was ratty, visibly knotted in parts. Expression strung out, he looked like he was in amphetamine withdrawal. His skin was too shiny, and his clothes were crumpled and damp in places.

Bucky went to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked pained, then sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hoodie's arm.

Without any warning, you burst into tears.

Your hands went up to cup your mouth but it was too late. The sobs were heaving up from deep inside you, and Bucky was born with too much empathy to not be affected. Tears began to roll down his face.

And that was it. Any pretence or attempt to be stoic was entirely dissolved. You crumbled into each other.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and you pressed your head hard into his chest, almost pushing against him like you were trying to push the feelings out of yourself.

"I know," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

As his arms tightened around your body, you could feel how it was calming you. It was only a short term relief from the grief, but it was the very least Bucky could think to do. Holding you wasn't going to make anything better, but it made you both feel less alone.

Showers and fuzzy bed socks. Hot cocoa and trashy television. Sleeping close. Waking up together.

From the deep unwanted darkness of grief, something was determined to find a way to grow.

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @bubbabarnes

(not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) 

[strawwritesfic]

Bucky Barnes x Female!Super Soldier!Reader: It’s a Small World After All

Summary: “All hope abandon, ye who enter here.” –The Divine Comedy

Request: Bucky rescues a female super soldier that he trained for Hydra.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (bad language, references to torture; references to brainwashing and mind control; Steve & Natasha & Bucky friendship; set post-Captain America: Civil War; not Infinity War compliant)

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

It’s a Small World After All

The world had been so small when Bucky Barnes had been a child. His life formed a well-worn path between his family home, his school, and his best friend’s apartment. Moving between these locations had been as easy and as natural to him as breathing. He considered only passingly the possibility of seeing more of the world—until that small world grew larger for him and that breathing got a lot less easy.

Why had it been that he had thrown himself into that new open space? Had it been patriotism? Belief in the cause? Or some long-buried, selfish feeling that he deserved to know more than late hours working at the docks to ensure Steve would have medicine and art supplies in the coming days?

The latter had been true, Bucky decided decades later, because punishment followed swiftly and extensively. His choice cracked the world open like an egg. He felt every continent beneath his own two feet; many countries felt his impact even if no one there spotted him. Though the earth was huge, he was a big part of it.

That was what they had told him, at any rate. Now he knew the truth: The world was small and he was smaller still. Countless countries. Innumerable gunshots. And yet he found himself back at the very beginning, back where it all started, back at the very gates of his own personal hell.

“I guess Dante was right about one thing,” remarked the woman at his shoulder.

Natasha Romanoff’s already diminutive stature looked all the tinier swallowed up in winter gear. The few visible strands of her hair looked like bright bleeding cuts against her pale face, so great was the contrast between that and the snow-patterned camouflage that covered her from head to foot. White flakes of snow clung to her long, upswept eyelashes, and every breath she exhaled released a small cloud of moisture toward the stark white sky. She was cold—and yet, despite being much less dressed for the weather, Bucky felt nothing at all. No cold. No nerves. Just a dead resignation deep within his tired bones.

“You don’t have to go in there,” she added at his silence. “We can take care of it from here.”

Before Bucky could so much as open his mouth to reply, a large hand covered his shoulder and drew him up short.

“No, we can’t,” said the owner of the hand.

Steve Rogers shot Bucky what was almost a familiar smile, but far too small and grim to ring any of the bells in the latter’s shoddy memory. He’d already slipped into Captain America-mode. Bucky would have expected that to take a little longer since Steve, too, had forgone his usual lurid costume for something a little warmer. Still, it was enough. Maybe it didn’t remind Bucky of their childhood; it still reminded him of following Steve through Purgatory. It also reminded him he couldn’t just stand there staring into the distance all day.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said at last, shifting his shoulder just enough to get Steve to drop his hand. Good as it felt, Bucky worried that an anchor would only hold him back.

Steve understood, or Bucky assumed he did. He thought he saw the start of a real smile on Steve’s face, but then Bucky’s eyes fell again on the entrance to the low metal building that sat half-hidden in ice far ahead. Bucky had gone inside there once—and he’d never really come back out.

“If you’re not ready, we can come back tomorrow,” Steve said.

“No. Too much time’s already been wasted looking for this damn place. If they have any idea we’re around, they’ll pack up and we’ll have to start over from scratch. We might already not have got here in time.”

“It’s not your fault they wiped your memory of this location before bringing you stateside,” Natasha said sympathetically.

Wasn’t it? Bucky felt it must have been. All of this information had been inside his head the entire time. Shuri should not have had to shake so hard to pry it loose, especially since she hadn’t liked shaking so hard to begin with. If he had wanted it badly enough, surely he could have spared her the pain. He should have known they’d bring him back here somehow.

Natasha touched him on his flesh hand. “You don’t have to do this, Jim.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Jim—”

“He knows the risks, Nat,” Steve broke in.

“I’m not concerned about you getting hurt. You going back in there…I wouldn’t go back inside Red Room for something like this.”

“Sure you would, if it was Clint or Steve or Sam in there. Or me.” Bucky forced a smile. “It won’t work without me there, Talia. You know that.”

She turned to Steve imploringly. “Steve, you can’t honestly tell me you’re okay with this.”

“It’s not my favorite idea Buck’s ever had,” Steve confessed, “but if there’s even a chance he’s right, we’ve got to do this. And he has to be here. She’s not going to come with either of us.”

The nod Steve and Bucky shared seemed enough to get Natasha to drop the subject. Bucky knew she wasn’t really convinced, but she was outnumbered. Considering that every minute they spent arguing was a minute she had to remain outside in the cold, outnumbered might convince her to do something she otherwise wouldn’t.

“What’s our plan, then?” Natasha asked.

“No one’s come out to greet us yet. You think they know we’re here?” said Steve.

They both looked at Bucky as though they expected him to lead—not only to lead but to remember. Even his recovered memories remained coated in a haze of drugs and electricity and madness. To ask him to know where to go inside that building seemed ludicrous to him. To ask that he take charge seemed more ludicrous still. He was not a leader. Following defined his life.

For the first time that he could remember, he felt a stirring of nerves deep inside the pit of his stomach. Whether or not he could lead was irrelevant. Unless he wanted to spend all his life herding goats on the outskirts of Wakanda, he had to prove that he was capable of more. This was his first mission since the terrible fight with Tony Stark, and Bucky’s first personal mission since the same. Much more remained at stake than his future occupation.

“I’m headed to the back,” he said at last, “as deep and as far as I can go. Alone.”

He paused to allow either of his companions to interrupt. Neither did.

“It’s an old base. I have no recollection of being here after the first few years. They’ve probably retreated to this place after the Avengers destroyed so many of the others. There might be some defensive wards in place, but they’re likely to be minimum if the people here have bothered to update them at all.”

“Any Enhanced?” asked Steve.

“Other than her?” Bucky shrugged.

Not for the first time, he realized how blind he really was going into this. Time was of the essence. He had rushed not only himself, but Shuri and Steve and Natasha and Sam as well. If any of them died because Bucky wanted to chase ghosts…

Again Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve faced unexpected Enhanced before. This base is too small for us to be overwhelmed. Natasha and I will make sure you can get where you need to go, whatever happens.”

“That’s all I need.”

There was no more procrastinating to be done. All those nerves Bucky had felt earlier crawled across his skin; he felt like he might scratch himself to ribbons if he stood there a second longer. He took his first step forward. Then another. Then another.

“What do we do if we find that chair?” Natasha called after him.

“Do me a favor.” Bucky cocked his gun. “Break it to bits.”

The snow swallowed him up shortly after. Nothing remained in the world except for Bucky and the dark shape in the distance toward which he trudged. No sound cracked the muffled quiet that descended upon him, save for his steady breathing and the vague pounding of his own heart inside his ears. How often had this fog of nothingness surrounded him before? Screaming, followed by silence, followed by blood—an easy, endless loop.

Bucky shook his head to dislodge his fuzzy thoughts. He was not falling back; he was moving forward. There was a marked difference between being dragged into Hell and storming its gates. Natasha and Steve would not be far behind. They were only waiting just outside of the range of any possible thermal imaging cameras Hydra might have until Bucky’s arrival distracted any waiting agents. That meant that he was not really entering this pit alone. Nothing was going to happen to him. More importantly, nothing was going to you. Not ever again. Not if he could help it.

His forceful thinking got him to the doors much sooner than he anticipated. Two smooth sheets of metal loomed suddenly before him. He hesitated. Shouldn’t someone have made a move to stop him from getting this close without being incapacitated in some way? Sam had confirmed with a flyover that very morning that there were multiple heat signatures inside.

No. They knew he was out there. Why they were waiting, he did not know. Perhaps they were frightened. Perhaps they were preparing to shoot him the moment he tore the place open. The reason didn’t matter. Bucky lifted his metal hand, preparing to wrench the doors apart, then—

—they opened up all their own, smoothly, quickly, with no squeal of rust. White light spilled forth from the opening, blinding Bucky long enough for someone to say:

“My boy. You’ve come home.”

Whoever spoke was little more than a black shape to Bucky’s still-adjusting eyes, but they were stooped and their arms did not appear angled correctly. The voice, though—Bucky knew the voice, old and wispy though it might have been. It was this familiarity that caused him to obey when the voice went on:

“Come in, come in from the cold. Let me take a look at you. It’s been a long time.”

In Bucky went. His feet had crossed this same threshold dozens of times. They could do so again a dozen times more. A stillborn scream froze inside his throat as the doors slid shut behind him. At that exact same moment, a set of clammy, gnarled fingers snatched his chin and guided his head from side to side.

“Hmm. I see no cause for concern. It seems they’ve kept you mostly intact.”

Bucky snapped back into himself. He wrenched his face from the old man’s grasp, stepped back, and held his gun at the ready. The face above those wrinkled hands did not connect with anything in Bucky’s admittedly unreliable memory, even now that he could see it. All he could say for sure was that looking into the deep-set, milky eyes in that pale face caused a feeling of immense gratification to surge within him—only to be crushed at once by the strongest sense of disgust Bucky had ever felt.

The eyes narrowed on the barrel of Bucky’s M249 SAW. “Did you come here to kill me, James?” the man asked.

That there had to be a pause between the question and his answer at all shamed Bucky greatly, but his voice was firm when that answered did come: “If that’s what it takes.”

A flurry of movement in the room beyond revealed several other people to be inside with them. Men and women, all in Hydra uniforms, rose behind the old man with weapons drawn. Bucky could spare each person only a quick glance, but that was enough to confirm that none of them were you. He relaxed, but only a little.

“Sit back down, all of you,” snapped the man. None of them did. He returned his attention to Bucky nonetheless. “If that’s what it takes to do what?”

“Where is she?” Bucky demanded.

“She? Who is she?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. She wasn’t at the Siberian facility, so I know you must have moved her. Where is [Name]?”

“You assume too much. She always was the inferior model. What would we want with her now, when we’ve spent all this time waiting for you?”

“You assume too much.” The man didn’t even flinch when Bucky stepped forward with his teeth grit. “All the rest of them got a bullet to the head. I can think of lots of reasons you’d want to pull her all the way out here.”

A frown further creased the man’s face as tutted. “Thinking again, James? That must hurt. If you’ll only come with me—”

“Don’t touch me.” Bucky hit the man’s reaching hand away with as much as force as he could muster. “Tell me where you’re keeping her or I’ll blow your head off. You know I’m capable of it.”

“Not anymore. Not after you’ve let the outside world corrupt you. You used to be perfect. Didn’t you come here because you want to be made perfect again?”

“I came back for [Name]. Nothing else.”

“If you return to your chair willingly, I’ll give her to you. You can do whatever you want with her. No one will tell you otherwise this time.”

His flesh finger looped around the trigger on his gun. Probably the man was right: Bucky’s time with kind people—people like Steve, Sam, Natasha, Shuri, and T’Challa—had made him unwilling to kill another human being. But it wasn’t just that. Bucky had been a soldier long, long before HYDRA got their claws into him, but he had never been a killer. Now that he was free, he chose not to be a killer again. These people didn’t need to know that.

The old man seemed to sense Bucky’s reluctance anyway. He sighed, shaking his wizened head. “I had hoped you’d come here because you wanted to. You know the procedure works better when you aren’t fighting it. Have it your way.”

A single gesture from him had the rest of the Hydra agents cocking their own weapons and training them directly on Bucky. Before a single shot could be fired on either side, the doors behind him burst open. Steve’s shield caught the old man on the shoulder after Bucky threw himself to the side to avoid the projectile. In the resulting chaos, a grenade rolled into the room. He recognized it at once as a flash grenade and squeezed his eyes shut as he dove behind the nearest table.

“He didn’t come alone! Get them!” the old man shrieked.

Bullets whizzed through the air. The ones coming from one side of the room ricocheted with resounding clangs off Steve’s shield; those from the other hit their mark and forced whoever Natasha struck to the ground. Bucky stayed where he was, unable to find enough time between shots fired to force his way through.

Then Natasha materialized at his elbow. “Sam says there’s a heat signature by itself at the very back. Go. Steve and I will make sure that no one follows you.”

That was all the incentive that he needed. He nodded once, then rolled out into the open just long enough to throw himself down the dark maw leading deeper into the facility.

No lights remained there; those that still hung from the ceiling had burnt out years ago and were burnt out still. Blackness pressed tangibly against Bucky’s eyes, but he kept going, trusting his subconscious to keep his feet going down the right paths. He forced himself to not look from side to side. There were monsters much worse than the old man lurking in the shadows, if he would only look at and remember them.

He wasn’t going to let them coalesce—not inside the vacant cells he knew he was running past, not inside the chambers covered in blood that never quite came off, not inside the laboratories built so far underground that no screaming could be heard coming from inside them. Bucky wasn’t going to let the ghosts of his past stop him from reaching his goal. The agents spilling from doors beyond his vision weren’t going to stop him either. They fell before him, hit with his SAW or his metal arm, and did not get up again.

Farther he went, and deeper. His skin crawled at the thought of being so far from even the cloud-veiled sun above. Heavy breaths issued from his mouth as he tried to keep his mind from thoughts of being buried alive—figuratively and literally. Natasha and Steve would come for him if he did not resurface in time. Until then, Bucky had a job to do. He swallowed the taste of fear off his tongue.

“[Name]!” He could hold back no longer. Your name burst from his mouth and echoed back to him from the empty stone walls surrounding him. Here. You had to be here, yet he could find no sign of you.

“Bucky?”

The voice was so quiet that it might have been his boot scuffling against the floor. Only his automatic twisting in the direction from which the word issued allowed him to see the ghastly apparition beyond the rusted bars of a cell he’d run straight past only seconds before.

He could not quite fit the face with image from his dreams, but it was you. It could be no one else. Bucky’s lips quirked into an eager smile as he jogged back the direction he had come from, swinging his gun into place on his back as he went.

“[Name], I—” he began, but cut off once he got a better look at you.

Your eyes, dark and huge in a gaunt face, glittered faintly as you eyed him in return. Thin, bony fingers wrapped tightly around the bars.

“[Name].”

Your name was almost a prayer in that moment. Whatever you looked like, whatever reason they had to bring you back to this godforsaken place, he had not imagined you, not come here on some buried trigger Shuri hadn’t fished out, not made up a story about a girl he loved just to lead his friends to being shot in the middle of a barren wasteland. No, you were real. No amount of brainwashing could have convinced him to smell the terrible stench wafting from your emaciated body.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said as he headed for the lock.

You didn’t move. Your eyes seemed riveted to his face. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing? I came here to see you.”

His half-exasperated words had the exact opposite effect on you than he had expected. You did not look relieved, joyous, or even hopeful. Instead, what little color remained in your [skin tone] face drained away. Several ragged breaths tore from your thin, trembling lips; your legs quavered beneath you, only held up by the vice-like grip you had on the bars between the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Sorry?” Still lightheaded from seeing you outside his dreams for the first time since he’d fallen into to the Potomac, he couldn’t entirely suppress a hoarse chuckle. “What’re you sorry for?”

“Everything. Running away. Letting them take me. Letting them take you. Helping them—”

“You couldn’t help it.”

“Because I finally gave in.”

A hiccup interrupted the last two words. Bucky suspected that if you weren’t so badly dehydrated, you would have cried. He wished he’d thought to pack water—but Sam would have some waiting. Sam was always good at anticipating what people would need. Unfortunately, you would need a lot. Super Soldier Serum or not, that you remained standing in your present condition was a miracle.

Very slowly, he reached his flesh hand inside your cell to touch your cheek. “How long have they kept you down here?”

It wasn’t exactly fair of him to ask. Once upon a time, Hydra’s success with the Winter Soldier spurred them on to other projects. They thought of more Soldiers, enough to carry on a war. Not every single one that came after Bucky had been a volunteer. So you were born, programmed. He only hoped that enough time had passed that you were no longer conditioned to answer him. That you recognized him and had not flinched away from his touch gave him some hope of that. Still it took you some time to reply:

“Since…since INSIGHT failed. You didn’t come back after the helicarriers went down. So they—retrieved me.”

“That was almost three years ago!”

“Was it? They must come down here and feed me more often than I notice.”

Bucky didn’t crack a smile at your attempt at a joke. Nausea bubbled in the pit of his stomach. Three years you’d been down here while he ate plums and visited museums. He didn’t care if he had only just really remembered you. If he had cared—if he had really cared—he would have remembered you sooner.

“Don’t look like that.” A weak smile pulled up the corners of your mouth. “They thought you’d come back for me eventually, even when I told them the last handlers wiped your memory of our lessons from you. I was their last hope. But I’m glad, Bucky. I’m glad you were able to get away from them. I’m glad you didn’t come back for me. Maybe we’ll end up in the same place, after you die, and I can apologize for real.”

The nausea froze like ice. Not only had you been stuck down here alone for three years, you were so hungry and so tired that you thought he wasn’t real now that he was really there. Hallucinations were not uncommon in HYDRA’s Soldiers—it was hard to say whether they came from the serum or the torture—but he had never known you to have one. He himself had dreamed of Steve—or the Commandos, or you, or even Peggy Carter—arriving to rescue him, even after the pain had seared the knowledge of who those people were from his mind. He had felt them, too, heard them. They all disappeared before they could be of any help. Bucky was not going to disappear, but how could he convince you of that?

He did the only thing none of the people in his deranged imaginings had thought to do: He kissed you.

As far as reunion kisses went, it was not some sweeping, grandiose thing out of the pictures Steve and Bucky would watch at the movie theater just to get out of their crummy apartment for a little while. He could only get his mouth so far through the rust-flaking bars. You must have been startled, because you didn’t move forward to make his reaching any easier…but you didn’t back away either. Your lips were cold, and so chapped that Bucky felt the peeling skin cut into his own lips. A sickly sweet taste covered his tongue: the familiar ooze of rotting teeth.

He didn’t care. He would have kissed you in those same conditions again and again and again and again, if each and every time you would blink up at him when he stopped with color returning to your cheeks.

“Bucky?” Now you sounded incredulous, only to suddenly stop and shake your head as horror washed over your features once more. “No. No, you—you have to go. They can’t find you here. They’ll put you back in the chair.”

Even as you urged him to run as he had once urged you, you reached for him. A trembling hand touched him. You stopped only when the door prevented you from moving any farther toward him.

Bucky shook his head. “Without you? I’m not whole without you. I didn’t come here to crawl back to Hydra like a dog.”

“Then why would you come here? Why would you come back to where this all started?”

“Come on, [Name]. Do I really need to spell it out for you?” he asked.

Your face twisted with confusion. He grinned in return. After a quick squeeze of your hand, he turned his attention to the door. Somehow he already knew it wouldn’t take much to tear it from its hinges. It never would have, even before the decay set in. He had simply stopped questioning the people who told him he did not have the strength to get away.

Things were different now; Bucky had plenty of strength to get you away. All that stood between the two of you and freedom were the same bars that held him back before. Gritting his teeth, he spread his arms out wide and grabbed bars with both hands. Then he heaved.

An enormous screeching of metal against stone filled the air; debris fell from the ceiling onto his head. Bucky ignored it all. He kept going even though the noise was like a knife through his brain, until, at last, he wrenched the entire cell door out of its place. You stood wide-eyed in the empty space beyond until he casually tossed the object onto the floor behind him with a loud bang.

“It’s…it’s really you.” You lifted a shaking hand to your mouth. “You really came.”

“‘Course I did. Couldn’t leave my best girl behind, could I? Can you walk?” he added, as he came up next to you and looped his metal arm around your waist.

Though you still looked somewhat dazed, you nodded. “A little.”

“Good.”

He led you gingerly back the way you came. This walk was slower going. You leaned heavily upon him—but given that you hadn’t eaten, even your increased weight compared to other women your size could hardly impact Bucky.

Heavy breaths issued from your mouth as though every step were difficult. Still you went on. If you noticed the men and women strewn across the pathway, you did not mention them or give them a second glance. All your strength seemed to be focused on holding onto him.

“How are we going to get out, though? There are plenty of scientists here,” you said, after several minutes of staggering through the dark hallways.

Bucky stopped long enough to lift you over a particularly stout body. “Don’t worry. They’re taken care of. I brought—”

“Not one more step!”

He instinctively pushed you behind him, and not a minute too soon. Ahead, illuminated once more by the light in the front room, stood the old man that had greeted Bucky at the front door. Bruises and cuts decorated his sagging face. He would have been easy enough to bowl over, if he didn’t also have a gun leveled right at Bucky’s chest.

“I will not lose both of my pets in one go!” the man wheezed. “I may not have created either of you, but I know enough to get you back in shape. I will recreate Hydra from the ground up, and to do that, I need the Assets. You are mine! You will return to a cell and wait there until I can get you in your chair! Do you understand me?”

Neither of you answered. Bucky looked down to find you staring intently at him instead of the man.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked.

Rather than reply, you stepped around him and right up to the sweating man. He lowered the pistol at your approach. You simply gazed at him for nearly an entire minute.

“Good girl! You have performed beautifully! I always knew you’d bring him back to me in the end. You will be rewarded for your good behavior, I assure you,” the man said.

You smiled sweetly. Then, in one lightning-fast movement Bucky would not have thought you capable of in your current condition, you lifted one leg, slung your foot straight into the man’s windpipe, and spat in his face the moment his head hit the cement.

“I’m not your pet,” you snarled, “and I am never, never going back into a cell.”

Unconscious or dead, the man didn’t answer.

“You always were my favorite student,” Bucky said fondly.

When he reached to help you forward again, you shook him off. You paused until you were able to stand at your full height. This time you walked on your own toward the small square of light ahead. Only now that the obstacle in front of it had been removed did Bucky realize that the light was no longer white. No, it was more orange now, and unsteady. This went unremarked upon as the two of you continued on your way. Not once did you stop to breathe. Not once did you stop to look back, not until you peeked into the room and immediately drew away.

“It’s okay,” Bucky said. At least, he hoped it was. He put a lot of faith in Steve and Natasha, but he was so close to a happy ending that their survival seemed impossible. Before he went inside himself, he took a deep breath.

This steeling of his nerves proved unnecessary. In the center of room, among the shattered light bulbs and twisted remains of the door, was an enormous crackling fire. Steve stood nearby, and Natasha was crouched right next to flames, unhooded, hair mussed, and breaking an oddly-shaped object into smaller pieces in her hands.

“We found your chair,” she said without preamble.

Steve did his best to suppress a relieved grin when Bucky’s gaze got to him. Bucky tried not to feel annoyed by it. Had he not just worried himself over Steve’s ability to cope with a small army of Hydra agents? If they hadn’t got over their need to look after one another after all this time, Bucky doubted they ever would.

“We got cold waiting for you,” Steve explained. Then he turned his smile toward you as you crept up to Bucky’s side. “Nice to finally meet you in person. Bucky’s told us a lot about you.”

“They’re with me,” Bucky assured you upon your nervous glance.

You relaxed at once.

Having tossed what remained of the broken chair into the fire, Natasha stood up. She nodded at you as she swept her hood back over her hair. “Ready to go?” she asked.

Nothing inside the room made him want to stay. Nothing in the room made him think he ought to. What relief! The only thing in the world that would allow him to enter Hell again with hope was you. He caught your eye before offering you his hand.

“How about you, [Name]? Ready to go?” Bucky asked.

Your eyes glided over the same ruined computers and papers that his had. Then you looked from his face to his hand and back again. “We really get to leave? Together?”

“I’m here to take you home,” was Bucky’s only answer, but it was enough.

A dry sob launched you into his arms. Bucky caught you with a laugh as you pressed your face into his neck. So what if you smelled awful? So what if you didn’t feel quite the same? You were you, and you’d be more you than ever after you’d spent a little time with Shuri. He headed for the door still carrying you like that. Natasha and Steve exchanged a look he didn’t understand, then went to follow him out of the building.

Cold wind and ice slashed across his exposed skin. He could feel the cold now, but he kept going. Sam was not so far away that either of you would freeze. The world was small, after all—so small, in fact, that Bucky’s world was encompassed in the woman he held to his chest. Bucky didn’t need to see more of it, didn’t need to make enormous changes, as long as you were always there to be the world for him. And now you would be, for however long the two of you had left in the warm places far away from Hell.