#making him look like a merciless soldier (as he was created to be) just for dean to see that compassionate soul that he needs to keep him

[silliestofbilliest]

It was an honor to hear the drafts of this 🫡

spn 8.17 my slightly belothed and my not high opinion of Naomi

Naomi could get a psych degree and I would still think she cheated her way to it. It's a basic thing to assume that once you achieve the wanted response you still would have to repeat it at LEAST a few times before it can be performed in relative succession over and over again.

Naomi probably glanced at a textbook once (twice is generous) and then when Cas was able to kill simulation Dean one (1) time without hestiation she went "Yeah alright cool go do your job" and had the undeserved gall to be upset when he broke free.

That and the power of gay love ig

[lvoryingrid]

The Cabin In The Woods

Levi x fem!Reader

Synopsis: In the midst of a Titan battle, Levi Ackerman and (Y/n) seek shelter in a forest cabin. The rivalry between them turns into an unexpected intimacy as subtle touches escalate.

Warning: 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains 18+ content, smut/erotica

The battlefield was a symphony of chaos, with the metallic scent of blood lingering in the air. Levi Ackerman, humanity's greatest hope, moved with unparalleled grace, his blades dancing through the tumult like a deadly waltz. Thunderous roars of Titans reverberated around him, accompanied by the desperate cries of soldiers caught in the merciless grip of the war.

Amidst the swirling dust and smoke, Levi's steel-blue gaze focused on (Y/n)’s face. Her movements were a ballet of survival, each strike a testament to her unyielding determination. As their eyes met in a fleeting moment, a silent understanding passed between them, a recognition of the shared struggle against a common enemy.

"(Y/n)! Watch your left flank!" Levi's voice cut through the cacophony, a sharp command born of necessity rather than animosity. She shot him a quick glance, a mixture of irritation and acknowledgment in her eyes. "I don't need you to babysit me, Captain!"

The Titans closed in, and Levi fought with a controlled fury, dispatching the colossal foes with calculated precision. Yet, in the back of his mind, a growing unease nagged at him. He couldn't shake the feeling that time was slipping away, that the stakes were higher than ever.

In the midst of the relentless battle, Levi and (Y/n) found themselves back to back, defending each other against the onslaught. The clash of steel against Titan flesh created a chaotic melody, punctuated by the occasional exchange of glances and shared determination.

Levi smirked, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. "Just making sure you don't get yourself killed. Wouldn't want you to miss out on the chance to lose to me again."

Her response was a scoff, but there was a glimmer of a smirk hidden beneath the exterior. "You wish, Captain. I can handle myself just fine. I just don't want to waste my energy saving your sorry ass," she shot back, a glint of camaraderie in her eyes."

Levi raised an eyebrow, a hint of annoyance breaking through his stern expression. "Don't get too cocky. We've got a long way to go."

The battlefield gradually fell silent as Levi and (Y/n) found themselves veering away from the main force, their surroundings becoming a dense forest. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting an eerie glow over the landscape as ominous clouds gathered overhead. The first droplets of rain splattered against their uniforms, gradually evolving into a relentless downpour.

Levi cast a sideways glance at (Y/n), raindrops clinging to her disheveled (h/c) hair. "We need to find shelter before we get drenched. HQ can wait until tomorrow."

(Y/n) shot him a defiant look, raindrops clinging to her disheveled hair. "I don't need you to state the obvious, Captain. I'm not stupid."

Levi rolled his eyes, his annoyance evident. "Just follow my lead and try not to slow me down."

They trudged deeper into the forest, the tension between them palpable. The rain intensified, turning the path ahead into a muddy quagmire. The sound of raindrops pelting leaves and the distant rumble of thunder echoed through the trees, creating an atmosphere thick with unease.

Levi's sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for any sign of shelter. "There should be a safehouse not too far from here. We can regroup and head to HQ in the morning."

As they ventured deeper, the tension between them gave way to an unspoken understanding. The rivalry that had defined their interactions now danced on the edge of something more—a raw and unexplored passion simmering beneath the surface.

Finally, through the dense trees, a dilapidated cabin emerged. The wood creaked and groaned under the rain, but it seemed like the only refuge they had. Levi pushed the door open, and they entered, their soaked uniforms clinging to their bodies.

The cabin's interior was dimly lit, shadows playing on the worn walls. Levi couldn't ignore the flicker of vulnerability in (Y/n)'s eyes, her guard momentarily down. "We'll stay here for the night. Tomorrow, we head to HQ."

(Y/n) nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The air in the cabin crackled with tension as they realized the close quarters they'd be sharing. The rivalry that had fueled their interactions now seemed like a thin veil hiding a deeper connection.

As the storm outside intensified, the two found themselves huddled in the cabin, the air thick with unspoken words. The flickering lantern cast shadows on Levi's face, accentuating the lines of fatigue and determination.

"I never thought I'd find myself stuck in a creepy cabin with you," (Y/n) teased, a small smile playing on her lips.

Levi's stoic exterior cracked just a bit, a subtle smirk appearing. "Consider it a special fucking treat."

Levi's keen eyes scanned the dimly lit cabin, searching for any available resources. Spotting a stack of old planks in the corner, he gathered them and set to work on starting a fire. The flickering flames cast a warm glow across the worn interior, revealing the exhaustion etched on both their faces.

As the fire began to crackle, Levi glanced over at (Y/n), who stood shivering in the corner, her wet clothes clinging to her like a second skin. With a barely audible sigh, he got up, his movements purposeful. "Stay put."

(Y/n) shot him a skeptical look but complied, watching as Levi disappeared into the shadows of the cabin. He returned moments later, holding a dusty, moth-eaten blanket. Without a word, he tossed it towards her.

"Here, wrap yourself in this. Your clothes are soaked, remove them" Levi instructed, his tone gruff but carrying an underlying concern.

(Y/n) caught the blanket, eyeing him warily. "You're not planning to play the hero, are you?"

Levi raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanging. "Don't get any ideas. I'm not doing this for you; it's for my own peace of mind. I don't need you catching a cold and slowing us down tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes, attempting to brush off the subtle act of kindness. "Well, aren't you just a gentleman in shining armor."

Levi scowled, irritation flickering across his features. "Quit the sarcasm and do as I say. It's practical, not chivalry."

Levi's gaze flickered away as (Y/n) began to peel off her wet clothes, the fire's dim light casting an ethereal glow on her silhouette. She could feel the weight of his discomfort, a strange mixture of vulnerability and an unfamiliar tension in the air.

"(Y/n), don't make this more awkward than it needs to be. Just get dry," Levi muttered, his eyes fixed on the fire in a futile attempt to avoid the scene unfolding before him.

(Y/n) shot him a wry grin, her usual defiance cutting through the air. "Oh, Captain, can't handle a little skin? I thought you were supposed to be a tough guy."

Levi scowled, irritation evident. "This isn't the time for your sarcasm. Just get yourself warmed up and get some rest. We have a long day ahead."

As she covered herself with the blanket, the glow of the fire outlined the curves and scars on her body. Levi couldn't help but steal a glance, the flicker of the flames highlighting the strength and resilience etched into every mark. For a moment, the intensity of their rivalry faded, and Levi found himself oddly captivated by the vulnerability in front of him.

(Y/n) caught the fleeting look in his eyes, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Captain, I never thought I'd see the day when the great Levi, would be caught ogling."

Levi's cheeks tinged with a hint of red, a rare occurrence for the stoic soldier. "I'm not ogling. Just making sure you're not going to collapse from exhaustion."

She chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet cabin. "Sure, Captain. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The rain continued its relentless assault on the cabin's roof, creating a soothing backdrop to the awkward tension that hung in the air. As (Y/n) settled under the blanket, she couldn't resist the opportunity to further tease Levi, who was doing his best to avoid eye contact.

"Captain," she called out with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "aren't you feeling a bit chilly yourself? You look like you've taken a swim in the river."

Levi shot her an annoyed glare, his irritation evident. "I'm fine. This isn't a cozy campfire, and I'm not here for your entertainment."

(Y/n) chuckled, undeterred by his gruff demeanor. "Oh, come on, Captain. We wouldn't want you catching a cold now, would we? That'd be a tragedy."

Levi clenched his jaw, his annoyance reaching new heights. "I don't need your concern, and I certainly don't need your commentary. Just get some rest."

But (Y/n), never one to back down from a little banter, decided to up the ante. With a sly smile, she shifted under the blanket, feigning a shiver. "You sure about that, Captain? Your teeth seem to be doing a little dance there. Maybe we should huddle together for warmth."

Levi's eyes narrowed, a barely audible growl escaping his throat. "I said, I'm fine."

Undeterred, she continued to playfully prod him. "You know, it's scientifically proven that body heat is the best way to stay warm. Just saying."

Levi shot her a withering look, his annoyance now accompanied by a faint blush. "I don't need your suggestions, and I certainly don't need to 'scientifically prove' anything with you."

(Y/n) couldn't help but laugh at his expense. "Relax, Captain. I'm just messing with you. No need to get all hot and bothered."

Levi rolled his eyes, his frustration evident. "I'm not bothered. Just get some rest before I decide to leave you out in the rain."

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, Captain, if you change your mind and decide you need some warmth, I'll be right here."

The rain outside showed no signs of letting up, and despite Levi's attempts to brush off the chill, his trembling form betrayed the cold that had settled into his bones. (Y/n), under the worn-out blanket, couldn't help but notice the subtle shivers that ran through him.

"You're freezing, Captain," she remarked with a raised eyebrow, her teasing tone giving way to genuine concern.

Levi shot her a glare, his pride evident. "I've faced worse than a bit of rain."

(Y/n) sighed, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "You can drop the tough act, Levi. We're not in the middle of a battlefield now. We're just two people trying to stay warm."

Levi scowled but didn't offer any further protest. The truth was, the relentless rain had taken its toll, and his ego was the only thing keeping him from admitting it. With a begrudging acknowledgment, he finally mumbled, "Fine, but don't get any ideas."

(Y/n) chuckled, shifting to make room for him under the blanket. "No promises, Captain. Just trying to survive the night."

Levi shot her a warning look before begrudgingly starting to remove his wet clothes. The fire's dim light flickered over his scars and the defined muscles that spoke of years of battles. As he shuffled into the blanket, (Y/n) couldn't help but smirk at the irony of their situation.

"See? That's not so bad, is it?" she teased, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Levi grunted in response, avoiding eye contact. "This doesn't change anything. I'm only doing this to shut you up."

The fire's dying embers cast a soft glow across the cabin, and with every flicker, Levi and (Y/n) found themselves drawn closer under the blanket. The initial distance that had defined their makeshift alliance began to close, replaced by a palpable tension that hung in the air like the storm outside.

Levi, still maintaining a semblance of stoicism, shifted slightly, unintentionally brushing against (Y/n). The brief contact sent a shiver down both their spines, an electric charge that neither could ignore. The subtle touches, once accidental, now held a weight of unspoken possibilities.

"(Y/n), watch where you're putting your damn elbows," Levi grumbled, his attempt to mask the underlying tension evident in the gruffness of his voice.

She shot him a sidelong glance, a playful glint in her eyes. "Captain, I can't control where my elbows go. Maybe you're just too close."

Levi scowled but didn't pull away, the proximity between them amplifying the uncharted territory they found themselves navigating. The cabin, once just a refuge from the storm, became a space where the lines between rivalry and something more blurred.

As the rain outside dwindled to a gentle patter, the quiet cabin seemed to amplify the sound of their breaths. The air became charged with a quiet anticipation, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

(Y/n) couldn't resist the temptation, her hand subtly finding its way to Levi's arm. The touch, feather-light and seemingly innocent, sent a shockwave through both of them. Levi's gaze flickered towards her, a silent acknowledgment of the shift in dynamics.

Levi cleared his throat, attempting to break the tension. "Keep your damn hands to yourself."

(Y/n) smirked, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns on his arm. "I'm just trying to stay warm."

Levi, irritated by the unexpected turn of events and the unsettling tension in the air, decided to retaliate in his own way. With a calculated smirk, he shifted closer to (Y/n), his fingers gently trailing along her arm in a manner that mirrored her earlier touch.

"Don't get too comfortable. This isn't an invitation," Levi remarked, his voice carrying a mix of annoyance and amusement.

She raised an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving her face. "Oh, Captain, didn't know you had it in you. Looks like the great Captain can't resist a little intimacy."

Levi scowled, attempting to maintain his composure. "This is purely practical. Don't read too much into it."

The banter continued, each subtle touch carrying an undercurrent of challenge. As the cabin remained shrouded in the quiet sounds of the rain and crackling fire, the atmosphere became charged with an unexpected energy.

In a moment of boldness, (Y/n) decided to turn the tables. Her fingers trailed along Levi's jawline, a playful glint in her eyes. "Captain, you're not fooling anyone. I can feel the heat radiating off you."

Levi's breath caught in his throat for a split second, his usual stoic facade momentarily faltering. "I told you, it's for warmth. Nothing more."

But (Y/n) wasn't deterred, her touch becoming more deliberate. "You know, Captain, sometimes actions speak louder than words."

"You're pushing your luck," Levi growled, the lines of annoyance and desire blurring in his eyes.

She met his gaze with a challenging stare, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Is that a threat, Captain? Or perhaps an invitation?"

Levi, not one to back down, closed the remaining distance between them, grabbing her by her hair. The frustration that had simmered beneath the surface now boiled over, fueling a passion neither had expected. In a moment of heated intensity, their lips collided, a clash of desire that silenced the banter and left only the echoes of their shared breaths.

The kiss, at first fueled by frustration, quickly morphed into something deeper—an exploration of uncharted territories and emotions that neither had dared to acknowledge. As their lips moved in a rhythm born of a newfound connection, the storm outside seemed to mirror the tempest of emotions within the cabin.

When they finally broke apart, (Y/n) and Levi were left breathless, their eyes locked in a silent understanding that transcended words. The fire, though now reduced to embers, seemed to burn brighter in the aftermath of their passionate exchange.

Levi, his usual composure momentarily shattered, struggled to find the right words. "This... doesn't change anything. We're not suddenly buddy buddy because of a kiss."

(Y/n), a flush of warmth coloring her cheeks, smiled with a hint of mischief. "Who said it had to? Maybe it's just something between us, Captain."

Her words sent a thrill of anticipation through Levi, and he felt himself grow hard against her. Unable to contain himself any longer, Levi roughly pushed (Y/n) back against the floor, pinning her beneath him. Her eyes widened in surprise, but there was a spark of anticipation in their depths that told him she wasn't entirely opposed to this development.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her neck, as he whispered "Is that what you want?" he growled, his voice gruff, rough with desire. "Do you want me to touch you, that bad?" As he felt her nipples harden beneath his palms. He cupped her breasts, playing with them before lifting them so he could kiss and suckle her nipples.

(Y/n) arched her back, pressing her breasts further into Levi's hands as his lips and tongue teased her nipples mercilessly. She could feel the heat rising within her, spreading like electricity through her entire body. "Levi" she moaned, her voice breathy and needy. "Yes, please, touch me."

"Do you want me to make you feel good?" His fingers, reached down her body playing with her pussy, as he continued the relentless teasing, and she could feel the pressure building inside her, making her body tremble with anticipation. "Oh, please, yes," she moaned a hint of impatience in her voice, arching her back even further, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. "I want you."

Levi smiled wickedly, his eyes glinting with lust. "Tell me what you want," he commanded, still teasing her with his fingers. "Tell me how bad you want this."

"I want you inside me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think about anything else." Her hips bucked upward, seeking the connection she ached for, and his thumb brushed against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her.

With one swift movement, Levi positioned himself between her spread legs, his erection pressing against her wet folds. Smirking at the thought that he barely touched her and she was that wet for him. He leaned in, his lips finding her ear, and growled, "I've wanted this since the moment I fucking met you. Fuck you so hard you won't be able to say anything else but my name" With that, he pushed himself inside her, filling her up in one deep stroke that made her cry out in pleasure.

As Levi thrust into her, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in this small, intimate space. The sounds of their bodies colliding and the wet slapping of skin on skin, filled the air. He moved with a savage grace that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her veins, his powerful body braced above hers. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she met his thrusts, their hips moving in perfect rhythm.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes squeezed shut as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. The tension that had built up within her since their confrontation finally released, coursing through her like an electric current. She arched her back off the floor, her nails digging deeper into his shoulders as she felt the familiar tightening in her core.

"Oh, god, Levi," she moaned, her voice hoarse from the effort of keeping up with his pace. "Don't stop." she said as her hands found their way to his dark hair.

He growled, his lips finding her neck, leaving a mark as he thrust harder, deeper. "I'm not going to stop. Not until you're screaming for more." His hips slammed against hers again and again, the friction building up with each passing second.

The air in the room seemed to crackle with the intensity of their passion, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers, his sweat mingling with hers. Her muscles began to quiver, her orgasm barreling down on her like a runaway train.

"Levi," she cried out, her body tensing as the wave of pleasure washed over her.

His movements became even more frenzied, his thrusts more urgent as he felt her body begin to convulse around him. With a harsh groan, he threw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut, and emptied himself inside her.

As the last shudders of pleasure subsided, Levi collapsed on top of her, his weight pressing her into the carpet. He held her close, his breathing labored as he tried to catch his breath. After a moment, he looked down at her with a satisfied smirk and muttered, "You're such a fucking brat."

Despite the harsh words, there was a possessive fondness in his tone that she couldn't help but feel warm inside. He rolled off her, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazed down at her, his eyes trailing down her body.

"Next time, it'll be in a cleaner environment," he said with a wink. "I'll make sure we have a bed or something."

"You're unbelievable," she remarked, her eyes meeting Levi's with a mixture of amusement and warmth. The flickering light cast a gentle glow over the scene, highlighting the vulnerability beneath their tough exteriors.

With a swift motion, he covered their bodies with the blanket, the warmth of the fabric cocooning them in a shared space. "You know, your scientific facts might have some truth to them."

Masterlist

[lizkeen]

RP starters from the novels ( One to four ) of the Celestialverse.

I was create to wage carnage.

That speech was so inspiring, I almost developed half a moral.

Why do you not show me how much trouble you can put up before you realise who I am.

I wish I had slaughtered you instead.

Have you added blasphemy to your crimes now?

You wanted a soldier, I wanted a father. Consider us both disappointed.

Nobody in their right mind would crown a mad boy king.

When you left me to die, he offered me an opportunity.

When I looked death in the eye, I realised I never wanted to die. I just wanted to stop living the way I did, in pain and torment. If that makes me the villain, fine.

I do not let people get close.

He killed you, lied to you for centuries and suddenly I am the villain?

Do not roughen him up, we need him capable.

The darkest ones do not stop at morals.

You sound like a mortal. It is disgusting.

Your father would have handled this differently.

You truly have made yourself a monster.

Try and fire at me. Go ahead, call for your patrons.

You are my patron.

Remove your hood.

I have been nothing but hospitable and you kick my efforts with your feet.

Touch her again and I will break your bones one at a time.

Meet your maker.

My actions are barely comparable to yours.

It will catch up to him when he expects it the least.

Neither of you can fool the court.

He is a boy, he is terrified.

He is in no danger.

I am the danger.

I am what everbody fears.

War is upon us.

Fear speaks to the innermost of a person.

You should see yourself.

They fear you for your mind.

We are not going to kill the king.

You are the fucking royalty.

You can not tame a dragon.

I do not think that your decision was right.

Just as easily as I have given you life, I can take it away.

Do not make me kill you in front of them.

Ruthlessness is a learnt emotion.

If you stop him, he will wage war against you.

They fear the powerful.

Take off your armor.

Paint me the monster to ease your darkness.

I would always be merciless on them.

I will not be your weapon.

Come forth and kneel.

Look at me!

You led him to slaughter.

If anyone dares to stand against me, death awaits them.

Kneel!

Let them see what you are capable of.

At least I do not let me pride get ahead of me.

Have you never realised that all I ever wanted was your approval?

If you lay a single hand on her, I will mutilate you so bad you wish you were dead.

Careful never got me anywhere.

I will take all that is his.

You can not beat me.

Maul her, chase her, kill her.

You can defend yourself so do it.

You look dreadful.

You were supposed to stop me.

I am not your conscience.

You are the queen/king/monarch of ashes.

Time does not matter. The body count does.

Spare me your wisdoms.

You can not win against me.

I am eternal.

Do I have your attention now?

Always turning stomachs , aren't you?

You are only alive for my amusement.

Death would not suit me.

Careful with your tone.

Do not play with your food.

Since when do you care for fairness?

Let's demonstrate what you do to the ones who betray you.

I do not care about the saints.

You are a spoilsport, you know that?

I like you unhinged.

Stop apologizing like a child and take responsibility for your actions.

The saint will kill you.

Make me.

You are nothing. Nobody.

Kill them or I will.

You are not my god.

All power to you. And may you choke on it.

Do you want to be hunted?

God is dead.

You want to pray to him? Pray to me instead.

[late-to-the-fandom]

Chapter 1: Orgrimmar

In which Prince Renathal leaves the Shadowlands. Rated G. Read on Ao3 here.

The heat was oppressive. It hung thick in the air, clinging miserably to the skin of all races. It forced itself down throats and suffocated, and anyone standing still too long was liable to drown.

Not that anything in this city understood the concept of stillness. A heavy canopy of reddish dust, like filthy anima, drifted eternally, kicked up by the bustling bodies: beings of every size, from Stoneborn to Dredgers, trampling every which way at every speed; a heedless, directionless, seething mass. And the cacophony they created, a grating symphony of talk and laughter and grumbling, the yelling of merchants, the creak and groan of wheels, the beating of wings above and the hooves and paws and claws and shrieks and growls and pants of all the creatures below; and in the distance the clash of iron, the war cries of soldiers at spar.

The most attuned of ears would have trouble picking out their own name amid the ungovernable clamour. The sharpest of eyes would falter under the merciless sun searing every surface. And even the least perceptive of olfactory senses would quail under the congealed amalgamation of odours; food indistinguishable from bodies and the raw, burnt buildings that formed the Horde capital of Orgrimmar.

The Dark Prince of Revendreth felt sick.

He had existed longer than the earth beneath his boots, and never had he felt so utterly wrong. Everything his overwrought senses valiantly attempted to communicate to his brain was outborn and invasive. It was all his strangely heavy body could do to stand stock still and hope to survive the onslaught, of oncoming persons and endless perceptions.

"Renathal?" The former Maw Walker's voice was a cool balm on his fevered brow, her hand on his arm a welcome anchor. “Come, let's get you out of the light and heat.”

She tugged firmly, and Renathal closed his eyes and followed in blind surrender.

When next he felt capable of opening them, he found Elisewin sitting across from him, smiling over the rim of a rough-hewn tankard. A second one, filled with some pale, frothy liquid, waited on the low, plank table in front of him, but Renathal did not feel quite up to drink. He was sitting as well, he realised, on a too-small barrel in a room that reeked of wet straw and bitter alcohol and charred meat, and buzzed with the steady rumble of discordant conversations, but was blessedly, blissfully dark.

After several, nearly necessary breaths through his nose, Renathal was aware of a small, insistent pressure on his arm just above his wrist. He looked down. Elisewin’s thumb was kneading firm circles in between the tendons.

“What are you doing?”

His voice was hoarse, but steady. Elisewin continued her deliberate movement as she answered.

“My first time in Orgrimmar, I was here about twenty minutes before I was violently sick behind this very inn,” she said conversationally. “I have no idea how your digestive system is likely to hold up. Or how any part of you will react to being on the mortal plane. But there’s a point somewhere about here that’s supposed to help soothe nausea when stimulated. Although...” She flashed him a more mischievous smile. “If you do feel the urge, just say the word and I know a decent barrel out back.”

Renathal tried to imagine the unflappable Maw Walker being violently ill. He could not quite picture it, but it went a long way to making him feel less self-conscious. Enough to risk lifting his gaze and letting bleary eyes wander the circular room. It was decently crowded, both with races he recognised and some he was sure he had never seen, but not one spared even a half-glance in his direction. It both relieved and rankled the Dark Prince for his weak state to be so summarily ignored.

"I suppose," he remarked sagely, "being here any length of time, one must become accustomed to odd persons and strange sights."

"Darling," Elisewin said with a gentle laugh. "You're not even close to a strange sight here."

Renathal raised a weak eyebrow at her.

"Royalty from other realms of reality often visit Orgimmar?"

"Yes," she said simply, her smile frank but not cruel. "Maybe not of your eternal stature, but the people here have seen too much of other realms of reality to be immediately impressed by anything. It's nothing personal. You just look like another hero. Here."

Before Renathal could decide whether he was up to being offended, Elisewin bent down and fished something from her capacious bag. She unfolded its thin wire arms, leaned across the table and slid it up Renathal's nose, hooking it over his ears. He stared flatly at her through the two panes of tinted blue glass. Her smile was unrepentant.

"They'll help with the sun. Which I'm afraid is a permanent problem." Elisewin produced a second pair, these tinted a dark shade of pink, and positioned them on her own face. "Few places are blessed with a civilized twilight. Suns of various strengths will insist on shining pretty much wherever we go. As for the noises and the smells, well, there are spells that can help muffle them but, honestly, the best course is to just get used to it as fast as you can. We won't have the luxury of suppressing everything that makes us uncomfortable all the time. Assuming..."

She eyed him over the top of the glasses.

"You're still up for this?"

There was no trace of judgment or reproach in the question. Renathal knew he was entirely free to change his mind. He could tell her this had been a bad idea, an unsuccessful experiment, and she would return them to Oribos and from there to Revendreth, back to his home and friends, the comfortable people and familiar places he had known for eternity. But...

He took another, longer look around the intriguingly rustic room as he lifted the tankard and sipped, savouring the unfamiliar flavours of both. Maybe it was the glasses, or the weak alcohol, or his overwrought senses catching up with him at last, but Renathal could feel that restless anticipation swirl within him; something part nerves and part excitement, a feeling he had grown used to during his rebellion and had, strange as it seemed, actually begun to miss. The thrill of looking ahead toward something new and unknown; more than a little dangerous, but, perhaps this time, less emotionally harrowing.

"Entirely," answered Renathal at last, pleased to hear his voice come out confident.

He lifted the tankard again, this time drinking it down to its dregs in several long gulps. He replaced it on the table, loud enough to be considered a slam. In Revendreth, that is. Here, not one patron glanced his way. Anonymity. Another new experience to add to his collection.

"And I do believe we have wasted quite enough time," he continued. "Where do we meet this Ebyssian?"

Renathal glanced at his former Maw Walker over his glasses, giving her his most charming, sharp-edged smile. She leaned across the table and kissed it soundly.

[astermacguffin]

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#goncharov - 101 posts

#asfghkshkfs - 100 posts

#so true - 91 posts

#he - 81 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#intactics voice ​consider 3 sides. now consider what ‘3’ means in the absence of any sides a 3 totally divorced from quantity. consider that

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Wait am I just misremembering things or did Lily Sunder and Cas really barely interact in the ep where they resurrect Jack? Because it's like. Here's a man who helped in the murder of your daughter and now he's begging you to help bring back his son. LIKE. HELLO. That's super fucking compelling. I think it should have been Cas who made the "you know how it feels to lose a child; please don't make us lose him too" plea instead of Dean. I think the impact of that scene would be better (and also more convincing given. You know. Dean wanting to kill Jack for a good chunk of their intial relations lol).

The scene could go many ways. You can have an angry Lily, who rubs it in hard, the irony of their situation. How unfair it is that Cas has the chance to do what Lily failed to accomplish for decades.

You can have a more sympathetic Lily, who looks at the face of this worn and weary angel and sees someone completely different from the merciless soldier she met a long time ago.

You can have different combinations of these and more. I wish there were more fics exploring the dynamic between Lily and Cas. (If you have fic recs, PLEASE send them here.)

78 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

#4

One of the most annoying responses I see when discussing S9 Dean's toxic moments is "oh that's just the Mark which means dean is absolved of all moral responsibility for his actions" which is. Huh?????? That's such a boring and stupid response and it's kinda on par with the way some folks excuse everything that late-seasons Dean does by saying "oh that's just Chuck manipulating him, which means he totally can't be blamed for the things he did" which is also soooooooo.

Like. Okay. On the one hand I kinda get the impulse to go straight to a Doylist explanation and blame the writers for writing Dean in such egregious ways (because it's TRUE) but like. Personally I tend to find that boring after a while. This is my weaker argument.

My stronger argument is that by refusing to grapple with the events of canon by transferring the blame to some other external force (blaming the Mark/Chuck for the Watsonian, blaming the writers for the Doylist), the characters aren't really given justice

What I mean by this is that it leaves the characters in an awkward stalemate.

On Dean's part: "If there's a force external to me that I can blame (e.g. the Mark, Chuck) then I don't really need to grapple with the things I've done." This is harmful not just to himself but to the people around him, particularly his loved ones who are typically the ones affected by his actions.

This type of thinking actually hinders the characters' ability to properly deal with the events and possibly make amends. They have no mechanism for moving on other than sucking it up and brushing things under the rug.

Take, for example, Cas' internality in the face of all of these things that Dean did. It's natural for Cas to feel negative emotions in response to All Of That (e.g. anger, sadness, resentment, fear, etc). However, if it's true that Dean really isn't to blame for all of That, then Cas' emotions have nowhere to go. "Dean has tried to murder my son multiple times and I have plenty of Feelings about this but actually it's not his fault because he's been manipulated by God so now I just have to suck up all these emotions." LIKE. That is totally NOT healthy for your psyche, angel or not.

The characters end up not being capable of grappling with the consequences of things because agency and moral responsibility keeps being shifted into these external forces.

91 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

#3

I know that post-canon baby jack fics are usually written for fluff but EYE personally think they should be used for evil more often. I want a non-god, toddler jack who doesn't remember much of the very traumatic first three years of his life but still has some glaring triggers. Like. For example, toddler jack is EXTREMELY claustrophobic. Every time they enter a small and enclosed space, he immediately cries and starts clinging on dean and going "I'M SORRY I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T LOCK ME UP" and both sam and dean feel their guts turning, knowing that they did that to jack. The only small and enclosed space that jack tolerates is the impala. Anyways. Society if more post-canon fics grappled with what sam and dean did to jack before giving us a "happily ever after".

91 notes - Posted January 28, 2022

#2

Hey folks welcome to another evil and fucked up fic concept from yours truly:

S13. Okay. Dean is still fucked up with grief, and the combination of fear, anger, and resentment he feels towards Jack is certainly not a good mix. Still, he prefers these latter emotions because at least they're actionable emotions. You can run away or fight that which you fear or resent, but what do you do to the rotting void of grief?

All these negative emotions eventually spiral into some form of paranoia, a constant stream of "What if he turns evil? What if he takes even more from me?" Over and over in his head.

Now. What if. While they're searching the bunker for resources to help them deal with Jack, Dean accidentally stumbles upon something in their storage: a metal crown and a set of spikes. A contraption that Crowley left behind—Naomi's tools.

In fear of Jack turning evil, Dean picks up Naomi's lobotomy contraptions so he can program Jack to "not be evil."

When Dean straps down Jack into the chair, he gives the kid his very first smile. "Don't worry, kid. I'll make sure you'll never lose your path."

When Cas is finally resurrected again, everything's fine and cool and happy. And then Jack goes "Oh yeah I have weekly tuning sessions with Dean." And Cas asks. What "tuning sessions." And he watches in horror as Jack puts on the crown that Naomi uses for the lobotomies.

Cas confronts Dean about this. They fight. Cas was about to leave with Jack. Dean panics; he orders Jack to hold Cas down and prevent him from escaping.

With Jack's help, Dean tearfully straps Cas down to the chair and puts the crown on him. "I'm sorry, Cas. But I can't lose you again."

Everything is fine and cool and normal. If Sam notices some odd behavior here and there, he tries not to think too hard about it. Besides, this is the first time that they had been this happy and peaceful for a length of time, why ruin it?

Eventually, however, Sam can't ignore things any longer. His suspicions eventually lead him into finding out what Dean's been doing this entire time.

Sam confronts Dean about it. They fight. When Sam was about to take Jack and Cas away from there, Dean utters a trigger word and makes Sam fall under his control.

It turns out that this isn't the first time that Sam found out what's happening, and that Dean has been repeatedly rewriting his memories this entire time.

At first, Dean just asked Jack to erase Sam's memories. This plan doesn't work long term because Sam either just rediscovers what happens or regains his memories. Dean then ordered Jack to gradually and discreetly feed Sam some grace and transform him into as close as an angel as possible so that the Naomi's tools would work on him as well.

This bit is from jay @casnation , thanks for this: Sam repeatedly wakes up and tries to get Cas and Jack out of there but they’re programmed to take him to Dean if he does this. Like, he could totally escape if he didn’t try to save them every time.

There will be a point where the brainwashing gets so severe that they basically lose their personalities in a way that even Dean cannot ignore anymore. And so he "reprograms their personalities back" based on Dean's perceptions of them.

Crucially there will also be a point where Dean realizes just how bad he's fucked up (ideally in conjunction with the realization that he's living with three husks with zero personality), but he's trapped himself into a corner. Because he KNOWS that the moment he undoes the programming, they would all run the fuck away from that bunker and leave him alone. And he would rather reprogram them ad infinitum rather than face the consequences of what he did.

Another incredible quote from jay: "Pygmalion carving himself not just a lover but a family."

More stuff below the cut (specifically how Mary reacts to All of This when she returns from the Apocalypse World):

Dean does NOT have the guts to lobotomize his own mother. He can stomach doing it to Sam and Cas because he's already pretty good at ignoring their autonomy. Which means that Dean has to employ more subtle methods of hiding things from Mary.

He can order Cas to reaasure Mary that "everything is fine." He can also order Jack to distract Mary by bonding with her.

Here's another bit courtesy of jay: "Mary notices something is up with Sam first and Dean just says “How would you know? I’ve know him his whole life, he’s fine, you’ve only been back a year!"

Another jay bit: "no thoughts just mary looking up and realizing the bunker is a clockwork recreation of her fantasy of married life with john with cas as her role. and she has no idea what to do"

I have no idea how to end this. We can go with the more horrific route where Mary never discovers what's truly going on and so they're all just trapped there, Pygmalion and the family he carved.

The other option is that Mary finds out. This has two potential outcomes: (1) Mary convinces Dean to undo the programming. They all run the fuck out of there and leave Dean alone to face what he did. Or, (2) In a desperate attempt to keep his family together, Dean orders Jack and Cas to hold Mary down and make her forget what she discovered. The story ends with Dean, tears in his eyes, putting metal spikes in his mother's skull.

(Also. I want y'all to know that there are more fucked up parts to this but those shall remain in the dark corners of our discord chats lol)

124 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hypothetical destiel pairings that are sooooooo important to me:

- stanford era dean and s15 divorce arc cas

Imagine Cas seeing a version of the love of his life that doesn't carry the amount of baggage he currently has. A version of his love that has not yet pointed a gun to his son.

- s4 cas and s13 widower arc dean

Imagine Dean seeing this version of Cas. He's so young! And he still haven't died a single death for you just yet. You look at this angel and think: you haven't fallen in all the ways that matter just yet.

- endverse cas and s15 divorce arc dean

Imagine Dean experiencing a whiplash when endverse Cas confronts him and says "in the worst ways, you're a lot similar to my Dean. Sometimes I think you're even worse."

- faith dean and emmanuel cas

You're dying. You're dying and your dad won't even answer the phone but here comes this man, this faith healer who looks you in the eye and says "you're not a machine, Dean." Who looks at you and sees someone worth saving, someone who you can barely see.

- post-rapture cas and mark of cain dean

"I serve Heaven, I don't serve Man. And I certainly don't serve you." Imagine a post-lobotomy Cas seeing his charge at his very lowest and seeing what he's told confirmed by his very eyes. That the Righteous Man is not who he thinks he is.

- s3 dean and post-swan song cas

You're going to hell. You're going to hell and you can't stop it but here comes this angel who has fallen for you, who rebelled against heaven for you. And you can't stop thinking whether or not you were born with this rot, with the curse to poison everything you touch. But the angel says "I would fall again a million times if it means I get to protect you from perdition."

125 notes - Posted January 27, 2022

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[eyedelater]

i have written a post to encompass every thought i have had about the golden kamuy character ogata hyakunosuke. i couldn't help writing it, and here it is. it includes analysis, interpretation, confusion, thoughts about shipping, and spoilers all the way to the end of the manga.

the post is incredibly long because i wanted it all in one place... i'm sure that much of this has been said by other people, but i haven't read anything anyone else has said. this is purely between me and canon. i have now read golden kamuy through twice and watched the anime once. i missed a lot on the first read, and i probably missed some things on the second read too.

i can't help but love the character ogata hyakunosuke. i know a lot of it is the character design: sneaky eyes with built-in eyeliner, greasy all-back hairstyle with a powerful ahoge (and don't try to tell me an ahoge is not what it is), little beard that somehow skirts past my strong dislike for nasty little beards. he's so crafty… he's sorta weak in close combat… he's completely wrong about things such as killing one's parents and the nature of guilt… he's confident right up until he isn't…

normally if a character captures my interest like this, i want to ship them with another character so i can be satisfied by looking at amusing fanart of them outside of canon. but there honestly isn't anyone i want to pair him with… the fact of his eventual death notwithstanding. (i don't ship dead characters. too sad.) he's great as a cruel and calculating loner who thinks he knows what he wants but doesn't. i don't feel a need to see fun and exciting shipping antics with this character in particular. i will to look at some fanart to see what i can get out of it, but i'm really satisfied by just what happens in canon. and yet i still feel like i have to make sense of these feelings, so i'm writing a post that nobody asked for (just like all my other posts).

i'm annoyed with myself because as i was first reading golden kamuy, it took a long, long time to dawn on me that there MUST be people who think of ogata hyakunosuke as their favorite silly little cinnamon roll and make obnoxiously cute posts about what he would do in domestic situations and stuff. as we learned more about him, i became certain that some people must feel that way, Despite Everything. and i was so very annoyed by the thought of it that i decided to make it a point to dislike ogata… to buck the trend. to avoid biting the fandom bait. BUT IT DIDN'T WORK………… he grew on me… ugh. i still really, really don't want to see fluffy fics with him or anything like that though. god. i have less patience than ever for fandom content that cutesifies every character. especially fucked up weird horrible men like him <3

it's an incredibly audacious move to create a merciless sniper character who killed three (3) members of his closest family (and who knows how many soldiers) and then also give him explicitly catlike characteristics and behaviors, all the while knowing that everyone loves cats!!! (slams table.) fuck off! noda-sensei had to have been trying to induce brain-melting levels of cognitive dissonance in the minds of horny readers who desperately want catboy hyakunosuke to be their poor little meow meow but also want to cancel him for being a bad dude. i'm not immune

i like ogata in kind of the same way i like crocodile one piece. they're weird and smug and fun to watch. and of course, they're similar in some ways. the greasy all-back hair with pieces falling down, and the facial stitches, and the excessive confidence, and their voice actors being perfect. and, you know, the being villains who are eventually defeated. crocodile lets out his slow laugh whenever he feels things are going his way, and ogata just does a little shit-eating grin, and they're both perfect. key difference: ogata gets naked

i have been made aware that a non-zero amount of people ship ogata with asirpa, and those people might benefit from being run over by a car. asirpa is excluded from shipping of any sort, no exceptions, because she is 13 years old and 95% of the other characters are (bizarre, horrible) adult men. the fact that she has a one-sided crush on sugimoto for some amount of time is perfectly natural and reasonable given the circumstances (i believe that anyone would fall in love with sugimoto if they were in her place). the relationship between sugimoto and asirpa is that of a wonderful, wholesome, and strong found family.

back to ogata. i liked that during his first appearance, he gets his arm broken, gets beaned on the back of the head with his own gun, falls into a ravine, hits his face on a cliff, and bounces off the cliff into the icy river. that was so early in the story that his character design wasn't even nailed down yet, and that scene can be easy to forget, but it should be remembered. i like when ogata gets shot in the chest and the shoulder. i like when we get just a little snapshot of ogata knocked out cold at the stenka. i like the flashback of masked ogata getting his face bloodied by teen koito and then having to pretend like it never happened even though he's pissed. i like when ogata gets the snot beat out of him by usami. this is not a toga-himiko-like aesthetic preference for a man's bloody and beat-up body. rather, i love how he has strong (and justified) confidence in his one skill (sniping) and therefore seems confident overall but keeps getting busted up anyway because he's weak in close combat. it's a good dissonance.

i love seeing ogata smugly perched on things… it's like, "ah, there he is…!"

i love ogata feeling guilty about only the worst murder he committed and none of the others… he was testing his limits, and he found them. it didn't stop him from killing again, but he never got over it either.

i love ogata being the only one who chose not to hold hands and jump at the beach scene… doesn't want to make a fool of himself… but he made a funny face when he got beaned in the back of the head, didn't he. i like the ogata who gets made a fool out of.

after the ordeal with anehata shiton, ogata said that all men feel regretful and disgusted after they shoot their load. probably that's all he's ever felt, doing it with prostitutes and such, if at all. makes a little note in my notebook

ogata does terribly cruel things, and he must recognize to some degree that people will see his actions as cruel, but he doesn't do it for the sake of being cruel. he is heartless, but only when he feels he has a reason. everything is analyzed based purely on how it will affect him, and he acts that way consistently throughout the entire story. he can mime kindness if he has to, but clumsily. he cultivates a trusting relationship with asirpa purely because he understands that nopperabou is her father. he goes along with what sugimoto wants purely for convenience and because he understands how strong/dangerous sugimoto is. he shoots wilk, despite knowing that he is asirpa's father and that she will be very upset, purely because he wants to limit the spread of whatever information wilk has about the gold. he shoots sugimoto, his ally for months, not to be cruel, not as revenge for almost killing him that one time, but to eliminate a potential complication to his plan. the only one he really needs in his party is asirpa, and all asirpa is to him is the key to the gold, and all the gold is to him is a path to climb the ranks to prove that his father was worthless. his behavior is unpredictable on first read, but when rereading, it's incredibly consistent. his lack of guilt is entirely premised on what he can justify to himself, and he's great at justifying anything in his own mind. but there is a limit, and yuusaku was that limit; what haunts him most about yuusaku's death is that this time, he can't justify it. he didn't have a good reason. that causes a crack in the foundation of his entire personality, and when he gets acute aconite poisoning from asirpa's arrow, the anxiety it brings is what causes that crack to spread and his entire ego to collapse.

can someone count how many panels feature ogata's face and then also count how many of those panels show him smoothing back his greasy hair and give me some kind of ratio? i think it's high. i think the ratio is high. though i didn't notice until a couple hundred chapters in. but on reread it's like yeah, every other ogata panel, he's got his hand on his head. i do like when an author commits to a tic. no one else in the story has such an obvious repeating tic, i think. he even gets a nade nade (pet pet) sound effect when he's smoothing his hair repeatedly out of nervousness (after he shot the reindeer by accident).

have i mentioned i hate nasty little beards but ogata's slides right in under the gate? that's another cognitive dissonance for me, and it's tough. hard to get over this one.

"daily affirmations i Can be normal about that man"

~quote from deleted post by a tumblr user who maybe doesn't want credit bc they deleted their post

he dishes out smug grins when things are going his way, but he dishes out WRY grins when things AREN'T going his way! hoargh! (throwing up hands)

it's worth noting, to defend my honor, that ogata is not the only one who grew on me. everyone grew on me. another important one is tsukishima, who i admit i wasn't paying very much attention to until they started heading toward karafuto (during the first reading) and then i was like, that was the guy in the coal mine... right? oh, he's been there The Whole Time. and his design didn't change very much. he grew on me a lot. first you think snake nose, but then you think bunny nose. (someone on pixiv said gorilla nose? i don't like that…) his little beard doesn't strike me as nasty either (why not?? i don't know.) of course, koito was the boy of the hour as soon as he first appeared, and i paid a normal amount of attention to him. (the only part of his design that changed is that his eyebrows got stronger and his parted hair got fixed. actually his part seems to fluctuate between messy and neat.) i really like the dynamic of koito being a needy younger pain-in-the-ass to tsukishima while outranking him and being taller than him. in japanese, tsukishima always addresses him with polite speech, and koito rarely even addresses tsukishima with an honorific. tsukikoi seems to be a good and semi-wholesome ship… you know, semi-wholesome. listen, they end up together forever at the end, so it's fine. you guys can make obnoxiously cute posts about what they would do in domestic situations if you want. so anyway, it's not just ogata who got my attention. but it is ogata who this post is about, so let's end this paragraph and leave room for more notes.

Noda-sensei will use any and every opportunity to show you the silhouette of a dick and balls swinging around during an action scene where people happen to be naked. However, he doesn't do that with Ogata. The reason is that he wants you to remember that Ogata is a serious bad guy character and doesn't want you laughing at his dick and balls. For the same reason, he also precludes Ogata from partaking in the horny otter sumo wrestling. In this essay, I will-- ok just kidding, they showed his dick and balls when he kicked koito in the face. and then they showed that exact panel again a few chapters later. with his dick and balls again.

i bet the hyaku in hyakunosuke is obviously referring to getting a 100% hit rate. (hyaku means 100, same kanji and everything. -nosuke is a common ending for a boy's name.) or to put it in sogeking terms, 100 shots, 100 hits, lu lu la la lu

it's interesting that out of the 4 people we see tsurumi gratuitously manipulate into loyalty, ogata is the only one where it doesn't stick very well. to be fair, tsurumi played his game with ogata a bit differently than with the others. he helped ogata kill his father and promised to help him rise through the ranks, but ogata didn't understand at first that tsurumi had an ulterior motive that would make hanazawa's death a win-win for him. it was usami who brought up mantetsu and made ogata understand he was being manipulated. but even knowing that, he thought tsurumi might uphold the other part of his end of the deal by helping ogata get into the army academy, so he was willing to play along. of course, tsurumi's time was split between everyone he was trying to manipulate (as well as pursuing his main goals), so everything couldn't happen at once. another problem was that each of them wanted to be daddy's only special little boy, and ogata was no exception, so he got impatient upon seeing him pay attention to the others and thought tsurumi wasn't working to help him fast enough. it was only when ogata decided that tsurumi wasn't holding up his end of the deal that he decided to betray him by working for central (in the hopes that central could uphold a similar deal instead). i think i'm getting that right. compared to what tsurumi did for tsukishima, he didn't do that much for ogata. but tsukishima was his masterpiece of manipulation-- look how much he got out of him. in the end, tsurumi wanted to cultivate soldiers who are dogs among sheep, but of course, ogata is a cat in that metaphor…

i didn't read the manga well enough the first time and was thinking that ogata's failure to advance in the ranks was because he just wasn't really good at anything but sniping, and sniping wasn't properly appreciated by the higher-ups. while those two things are basically true, i now understand that he couldn't get promoted because he didn't attend the necessary school and was ineligible for any promotion above his current rank, regardless of his skills. and that's why his roundabout desire to climb in the ranks was hinged on his going back to school, which he couldn't do without the help of either tsurumi or central. so complicated…

people ship ogata and sugimoto, and i'm really torn about that. they do look kinda good together, but first and foremost, sugimoto deserves better (and he deserves a character who doesn't die at the end). i also think that the dynamic between those two is not that fun or interesting-- yeah, they almost kill each other and then save each other, etc., and that's fun, but i mean all the other interactions. i think there's not that much potential between them. plus ogata shoots him in the head. maybe that part should have come first and foremost. he does shoot the man in the head. that being said, of course, there's not a lot of great options for sugimoto to begin with, so i understand when people want to put him with ogata-- they need someone for sugimoto to be horny with, and they need someone for ogata to be horny with. like, who else do we have for sugimoto? shiraishi? you could argue for it… tanigaki? but what he has with inkarmat is pretty good, and i hate to sully canon romances by shipping against them. kiroranke? dies. anyone in the army? they're living in different worlds at the end of the story… just not a lot of great options for sugimoto, who deserves the best. also, if ogata and sugimoto had anything between them, ogata's death would make sugimoto sad, and i wouldn't like that.

shiraishi/ogata might be funny though. i like that scene when shiraishi is like "boy am i hungry!" to the man with a gun who likes to hunt and ogata doesn't say anything or look at him. (other good options for shiraishi include kiroranke [who dies] and boutarou [who dies]. that's 3 for 3 dead. unfortunate.)

i saw some ogata fanart. some artists like to give him Sneaky Squints and Crafty Grin all the time. he is sneaky, and he has distinctive eyes, but i think canon makes it clear that Sneaky Squints and Crafty Grin is a very rare special occasion thing, and a huge majority of the time he only has Glassy Eyes and nothing at all going on with the mouth. and that is the righteous truth. in a manga, facial expressions are a very important part of characterization, especially for characters who are always around but not always involved, so i prefer fanart where people try to emulate (and exaggerate) the faces a character makes in canon instead of assigning their preferred faces to a given character. (an unrelated example of this assigning of preferences would be taking two complex characters and turning one into Stoic Seme and the other into Weepy Uke. it is shocking how thoroughly and audaciously people will squish characters into those two molds. what a waste of time.) i get that i'm probably in the top 1% of sticklerism when it comes to wanting characters to adhere strictly to canon in certain ways, but it's because i strongly feel that canon ogata who is making a neutral Ogata Face 95% of the time and a rare Other Face 5% of the time is true and beautiful. to sully that by tailoring his character to your preferences is your prerogative, but to hate that is also my prerogative. not that i would ever leave negative comments or anything along those lines, ever. because that's stupid and a waste of time. the most time i will waste in that way is the time it takes to write what i've been writing here.

ogata dakimakura is permitted but it has to be ogata laid up on a stretcher, wrapped up, splinted arm, with his face all puffy after getting dumped in the river by sugimoto. or it has to be ogata standing up wearing his uniform complete with little cape and his gun on his back and looking through his binoculars into the distance. or it has to be a watchtower spanning the length of the pillow and ogata is perched in it, looking through his binoculars into the distance.

i hate the relationship between ogata and usami. usami is the ultimate slimy little dog (derogatory). nasty little freak usami. ogata is wrong about almost everything, but he was right about usami being the cheapest piece on tsurumi's gameboard. nasty little wannabe sexual predator usami. that scene where ogata's like "i'm normal, right?" and usami is affirming all the things he's wrong about, it's like, the man is fucked up enough already! i can't believe i'm saying this, but you're a corrupting influence on him! i don't like how usami calls ogata "hyakunosuke" like they're friends… tsurumi calls him that because he's manipulating him and a cool dad calls his special little boy by his given name, but usami fucking hates him, and yet he calls him that anyway. something gross about it. usami's death was perfect. nasty little death. and i liked how ogata kept quiet due to bullet in mouth while usami was going on and on saying whatever he wanted while he beat the shit out of him, and then usami left after getting shot, and ogata felt compelled to say his one-liner to himself. fuckin nerd

i like the ogata who is seriously, seriously wondering if he's being haunted by his brother's ghost.

i think my one main beef with everyday heroes scans, who did an overall great job scanlating, is that they should have kept honorifics. keeping honorifics is a tough choice to make for a translator because it can be confusing for an english reader, especially when you come across one that's out of the standard few. but i was very surprised to find upon watching the anime that sugimoto calls asirpa "asirpa-san"; i had no way of knowing that in the manga! even though she's so much younger than him, even when their relationship becomes very close, even when yelling out her name in moments of desperation, he keeps the honorific. it might just be out of habit, but i think it indicates how much he respects her. it might be small, but something is lost by omitting the -san. honorifics and the ways people address each other are very important in japanese, and because this story takes place chiefly in japan, chiefly among japanese (and japanese-speaking) characters, i think keeping honorifics would have been perfectly appropriate in this circumstance. i also think it would have clarified some things for the readers rather than confusing them. (for contrast, it would make perfect sense to omit honorifics in a story that doesn't take place in japan but just happens to be written in japanese… though some meaning would still be lost.) (side note: EH scans does in fact keep some honorifics: the ainu word "nispa.") and sometimes, omitting the honorific in a context where it is important can make the translated wording MORE awkward. the example i'm thinking of is when ogata is recovering in the hospital and the scanlation shows him muttering, "yuusaku… sir…" now i'm 98% sure that ogata called yuusaku "yuusaku-dono," even though younger siblings typically get no honorifics, because yuusaku outranked him (and also maybe to show distance between them), and that's what he's muttering in that scene. i think it's less weird to call your younger half-sibling "-dono" in japanese than it would be to call your younger half-sibling "sir" in english. it's an in-between level of respect (and distance) that doesn't exist in english. so it became weirder in english, and leaving the honorific would have preserved that meaning. well, i do respect that EH scans made their decision about honorifics in the very beginning and then stuck with it to the very end. i guess it would have been worse if they selectively added in SOME honorifics when they thought it was important. but my opinion is that they should have made the decision to keep honorifics from the beginning.

in chapter 283, ogata falls asleep on the train and dreams of his mother singing a traditional song to him about how the way there is easy, but the way back is scary. i think the symbolism is clearly that it was easy for him to kill his mother and his brother, but it's not easy (or possible) to take it back. it's a one-way path that he chose. it's another subconscious manifestation of his feelings of guilt.

now here is something i've been puzzling over but which everyone but me has probably already made sense of. i think this is the only part of the manga that has stuck with me BECAUSE i am confused by it. chapter 199, page 6. kidnapped koito otonoshin, whose father just told him over the phone that he cannot be saved, is saying something heartbreaking in reply, and one of his captors is rubbing his back as if to comfort him. what else could that be but a comforting hand? am i mistaken? and it's got to be important because it takes up THREE panels! now, if you're like me and you've decided that tsukikoi is the OTP of golden kamuy, your first thought was to want tsukishima to be the one under the white hat, and ogata is the one watching disapprovingly because he's a jerk. but otonoshin smacks and bloodies the face of man in the white hat with the back of his head, and the wounds we later see (and basically everything else) make it clear that the white hat was ogata. (then of course they put those hats on russian-looking corpses that they obtained… somehow. kidnapped off the street?) (side note: when they take the white hat and mask off one of the corpses, otonoshin should have been suspicious right away, because that guy's nose wasn't bloodied or anything. but i'll let his lack of perception slide given the circumstances. unless he remembers it in a later chapter and i'm the one who forgot.) anyway, so it was clearly ogata who rubbed otonoshin's back, which seems really weird and out of character. i was thinking that it must have been that tsurumi gave them orders along the lines of not completely breaking the kid's will and making sure he isn't too physically or emotionally hurt (or else he and his father wouldn't be usable in the future). this would gel with the fact that tsurumi seems slightly surprised/perturbed when commander koito says he's going to tell otonoshin to die for his country (because of course that's not what tsurumi wants or had planned for). so maybe ogata interpreted those orders, thought otonoshin was giving up on life, and decided that he should make sure the kid's will wasn't completely broken by providing a little comfort. and then the glare from the black hat is tsukishima with a sentiment like, "you're giving the game away, you dumb piece of shit! captors wouldn't do that! ESPECIALLY IF THEY DON'T SPEAK JAPANESE!" but another possibility occurs to me. we heard from ogata when he was pointing his gun at huci that he doesn't want to just kill someone's grandma if he can help it. he's a cold-blooded killer when he thinks he has a reason, but maybe he does have the thinnest sentimental streak when it comes to people he does not perceive as a threat. so maybe that thin streak is showing here? kidnapping some weak kid might have been the dirtiest work tsurumi had ever put him up to at that point. (did he kill his father before or after this? but was that even dirty work to him, when he felt he had a good reason?) maybe he honestly felt emotionally reluctant to traumatize a defenseless 16-year-old like that, so he reached out to comfort him without thinking. i wonder what is the fandom consensus about that page, yet i feel reluctant to look it up… but whichever scenario it is, tsukishima's glare has to be him thinking, "man, you suck at dirty work." (and afterward, ogata glares at otonoshin because he's angry and humiliated that he underestimated how much of a threat a bound 16-year-old posed to him.)

EDIT: regarding the above paragraph, i think i've realized the correct interpretation. it's not that the situation of kidnapping a kid has activated ogata's thin sentimental streak. it's the specific circumstances of the lines that were just said: commander koito saying he could not save otonoshin, and otonoshin apologizing to his father and asking him to pretend he had never been born. that combination of circumstances was maybe the only thing that could flip ogata's empathy switch enough to make him reach out a comforting hand. he probably feels with great certainty that if he himself had ever been kidnapped and held for ransom, his own father would have told him to die for his country as well, and he might even have said a similar line in response. the pain otonoshin felt in that moment was so clear to ogata that he couldn't help but comfort him... it's a key emotional character development moment for ogata... with his face covered... but of course he misinterpreted otonoshin's resilience and that's how he got his nose bashed.

i cried a lot when i first read ogata's death chapter, and i cried a lot the second time too. i think noda-sensei might be a genius… one thing that didn't register on first reading was that ogata must have enjoyed the time he spent traveling with asirpa and the others in a way, even if he didn't exactly realize it. asirpa reminded him of yuusaku, not just in her innocence, but in the way she trusted him and ate with him and joked with him and treated him as if he were "normal" (when he believes he isn't normal). ogata was yearning for familial love his whole life; he just fixated on getting it only from his father, which wasn't going to happen, and ignored what he got from his mother and his brother. yuusaku was the only one who loved him, but he got some of that warm familial feeling from asirpa and the others as well, even though he usually acted cold. (i think he said "hinna" primarily to manipulate asirpa... but maybe after saying it, he felt happy.) and now, not only did he have to deal with his mistake of killing yuusaku, but here he was trying to kill asirpa too! not only that, but he was corrupting her into killing HIM, and he thought he wanted that, but he didn't! he couldn't even accept his old guilt, and now he was foolishly inflicting new guilt, as if by compulsion! it's so painful! as he breaks down, we see him realizing his mistake in real time, how his goal of proving his father worthless was itself worthless all along, how he didn't actually need to kill any of his family, how he was following the wrong path based on his delusions and misunderstandings his whole life, and it hurts him so much… and he tries to deny it, but he's having it explained to him by himself, and he can only trust himself… whenever he felt conflicted about anything, he would just find some way stamp out the opposing view and believe in himself, but now, both sides were him, so he couldn't do that, and as a result, he was defeated. the chapter was very emotionally powerful… he died a coward's death because, never having confronted his guilt before, he couldn't imagine being able to live with it… and vasily found his body by the railroad tracks and painted his fursona.

you could ship ogata with vasily but the fact remains that they spend vasily's entire span of appearance in the manga in a fight to the death and then one of them dies. also he shot vasily in the mouth. you can't shoot a mouth with your gun and then try to kiss it later. that's inappropriate

the last time ogata shoots sugimoto, he doesn't aim for the head. it's as though he learned his lesson. but it still didn't work, did it?

i saw the ogata nendoroid and took damage from it. hate it. i don't want any more chibis...

it seems that some things are changed in the volume releases of golden kamuy. i have only read the scanlated magazine releases. i wonder if i can be content to decide that this is the end of my ogata post when i don't know if any important ogata details were changed in the volumes. i would also like to read and compare the official translation. one thing i want to see in the volume releases is if noda-sensei ever goes back and adds teeth to the white voids of characters' mouths. it is incredibly clear to me that noda-sensei truly, viscerally hates drawing teeth. that's fair, but i do prefer even the vaguest semblance of teeth to a white void of a mouth. when he does draw teeth, they usually look perfectly passable. anyway, my next project will be deciding how to get my hands on the official translated volumes and then rereading again.

i think that might be all i have to say about ogata hyakunosuke right now.

[sdaomine]

tot characters and their titans/corresponding aot characters

aot will be returning in a few months and i cannot wait to see my darling annie leonhart again, so here's a tot x aot post!

again, no betas. still, enjoy!

🔹🔹🔹

vyn richter.

he could be the beast titan or the cart titan, but the warhammer titan, i think, would suit him the most.

the warhammer titan has the ability to create and manipulate any kinds of weapons and structures out of hardened titan flesh. with vyn's skills and knowledge in archery and fencing, he'd be able to forge and use these weapons to beat his opponents.

he is also quick to judge and assess a situation, and whatever he decides he and his squad needs, he'd be able to create them immediately: broadswords, spikes, crossbows, colossal hammers that could kill you in one strike, you name them—let vyn handle it for you.

it also safer for vyn to be the warhammer titan because his body would be crystallized underground, protecting him from his enemies. unless it's the jaw titan, no one could ever bring him harm. plus i don't really see vyn richter trying to protect his nape every single time.

i also imagine vyn having the same ring as annie leonhart's—he wears the ring at all times and everyone is so oblivious to it, thinking it's just an expensive family ring. but once danger strikes and vyn has no other options but to transform, he'd flick his finger onto the ring's hidden tip and wounds himself, and there everyone will realize that it was no mere ring but a weapon. just how elegant does vyn transform, huh?

and fuck, think about it: the warhammer titan's build-up is so elegant yet scary at the same time. the way vyn looks in it screams how he's a fucking merciless executioner.

the cons of being the warhammer titan is that when its hardening is used consecutively with no rest, the controller is easily drained. among the tot boys, i think vyn would be the first to have his stamina depleted, too.

lastly, vyn—the adjudicator, a talented, quick-witted, skilled man—as the warhammer titan would be a really, really huge asset.

luke pearce.

none other than the attack titan, there is no doubt. with his years of training and skills in combat, there is no better match for luke when it comes to inheriting the attack titan.

the attack titan has the ability to look into the memories of its past and future inheritors, in short, this titan can see the future; all the probable futures. and luke, seeing how mentally strong he is, can certainly cope with knowing the things that are bound to happen, good or bad.

the attack titan probably requires someone who is strong-willed, such as luke, for its abilities to be used to its fullest potential. it needs a controller who has willpower, and that makes the person so fearless and strong when faced with the other titans. we can see luke as someone who is driven and does everything to protect his loved ones at all cost, which makes him very suitable as the attack titan's controller.

just imagine how goddamn sexy it is when luke cuts his palm with a dagger or he bites into his hand's flesh, with all those gold lightning effects as he transforms into the attack titan; and the way he regenerates his limbs so quickly because he is just so fricking driven.

aside from that, the attack titan is strong and has great endurance. it was able to carry a massive boulder, push the colossal titan's leg, and break the armoured titan's hardened skin. in the final season, it transformed three times before its controller decided to end the fight. of course, it requires continuous practice, but there is no other match for it than luke himself.

hngg, if luke doesn't inherit this titan, i bet he'd be a powerful scout, like levi ackerman.

extra notes: same va as eren jeager and always kept to themselves a special key!

artem wing.

i say he's suitable to be erwin smith, minus all that fighting. and yeah, i know, how could he be erwin if he's not a soldier? dude, artem will never be a soldier; but he's very intelligent, quick-witted, strategical, and sometimes a gambler, too—the perfect skillset for a commander/leader.

he's a lawyer, which is helpful to him because he'd know which plans are doable and what strategies turn to be illegal, consequential; and he'd be doing his best not to cause dispute with the law and the police. he'd use his connections when building his plans, too.

like erwin, artem isn't someone who prioritizes a person's feelings. erwin commands as if he's not sacrificing thousands of lives, while artem always decides the path that benefits everyone, paves the path that is probably the most profitable, aka his and rosa's dispute over a divorce case, yeah?

i don't really see artem as a titan, but if he's to inherit one, i think the colossal titan would suit him best, just like armin. i mean, yk, the colossal titan doesn't really do anything but be a fucking nuclear bomb whenever it transforms, so... maybe artem can do that too? then ta-da, big brain time aka artem plans the entire bloody assault to enemy territory. nice job, mr. wing!

oh he's definitely the titan nuclear bomb since he's scorching hot, literally and figuratively. artem biting his hand's flesh or wounding his palm to transform? ha! hey, you, don't drool, all right?

marius von hagen.

an alternate character for jean kirstein! like jean, marius is whooping tall, and he's humorous, too! their main similar attribute is that they're both effective and charismatic leaders.

marius is the acting ceo of pax, so of course he's a great leader. even at a young age, marius is capable of leading an entire family business due to his social and intellectual skills. he's good and smooth when he commands his subordinates just like jean kirstein; and even if they both seem strong, they take it to heart when someone suffers from the consequences of their actions. they are afraid of hurting people, of bringing someone close to peril.

they are also passionate and skilled. known as mr. extreme sports, marius will definitely be number one when it comes to the omnidirectional mobility gear. and like jean's character, marius cares a lot about his friends and family and will do anything to protect and save them.

i see marius rushing to rosa in his odm, slashing the titan's neck before it eats his girl. he'd be the one to rescue vyn when he's drained from all the fighting and is now targeted by the enemies; marius would be the one to throw bullets and thunder spears alike onto enemy canons before they could even fire at luke's attack titan. oh god. he'd make a sexy jean kirstein.

marius is fearless. he's one of the bravest, most daring characters ive ever known. he's always willing and never backs out from challenges. he knows what he's good at, he knows what he's doing, and never comes empty handed. among the tot characters, marius would have the highest survival rate.

you think marius is a young brat who likes to play and tease—yes, he is—but he's actually deeper than that. he plans everything beforehand. he thinks strategically, acts swiftly and calculates the situation as effectively as vyn would. jean is also good at this; armin even said that among everyone, jean is the best when it comes to reading situations.

marius would be smoking sexy wearing the scouts' new uniform, thunder spears on his sides, titan-killer blades ready to be slashed and tainted crimson with enemy blood. the way marius traverses the territory is flawless, with so much ease and so it's no wonder he's ranked first in odm gear.

just imagine his serious, anger-driven face every time he kills a titan; the curses he spits to enemy soldiers before he ends their lives. the image of marius reloading his guns with a cool, relaxed face as if he's in no danger...

goddammit, marius. stop playing with me.

rosa (you, us)

historia reiss. sorry, guys, but we're not mikasa ackerman here, given how dense we are and how i can't imagine rosa flying around the territory with two blades in hand. and given how quick rosa is to panic and get flustered during tricky and dangerous situations, yeah, she's not mikasa.

rosa is sweet, kind, and logical, just like historia. and she's pretty, too! she always considers other people before herself and does everything in her power to offer assistance to those who need it.

she's also smart, passionate, and goal-driven. like historia, who cares about her friends and constituents; rosa does the same good deeds to her clients. unlike artem, she prioritizes their needs and feelings before anything else, she sympathises with them, gets to know their hearts before everything else.

whoever her lover is, she's their ride or die. will absolutely do anything for her beloved, even if it means suffering the consequences with them. in vyn's medieval suspense card, rosa mentioned that she wants to face the bitterness together with her love and not leave them alone. she is one to risk her safety just to help them, to be with them, though most times rosa's the one always being saved.

ingrid rosworth

the female titan. no explanations, she just lives up to the standard of being the next annie leonhart. or maybe her vibes, idk. i just see it in her!

vincent kim

marco <33 aka jean's best friend who's always by his side and always the one to remind him that he's a capable leader! i see vincent as someone who will never leave marius's side and will always cheer him up whenever he's down <33

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Sunflower

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

Warning: Swearing, torture, violence, death

Words: 20,971

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

Master List   Tag List

 May

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

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

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

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

 You were, in a sense, tricked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Soldat escaped” the first guard murmured quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 It wasn’t a tough choice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 This was The Soldat, The Winter Soldier.

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

 “This is Bucky” Steve introduced.

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

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

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

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

  July

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

 “Move” Wanda ordered.

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

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

 Your relationships with the rest of the team was varied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 You beat him every time.

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

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

 And therein was the reason you hardly saw the Captain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  August

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 It was progress.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Net [No]” you confirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Except Bucky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  October

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Bruce wanted you to have that peace too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Y/N” Steve nodded in greeting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Three” Bucky interrupts to confirm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hydra had just buried it deep within him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  November

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

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes, nudging Bucky. “Leave the kid alone. He’s almost eighteen, and I know you drank way before you came of age.” You turned back to Peter. “I promise, Pete, your aunt won’t kill you for one glass. If you don’t want it, that’s fine, but don’t reject it just because your scared of getting in trouble.”

 You knew Peter wouldn’t get in trouble for drinking the one small flute of champagne. Before offering it to him, you had asked Aunt May if he would be allowed to try it. If he tried it in your company, where you could keep an eye on him, he wouldn’t sneak off to try it later and get himself in trouble.

 Tony’s charity gala was going incredibly well. Celebrities, socialites, the press and even a few ‘ordinary’ people. You could even spot two Gods walking around. The gala was being held in a large hall in the middle of Manhattan. Round tables with matt gold table clothes lined a hard wood dance floor in front of a large stage. Crystal chandeliers cast light around the room, with help from a single candle on each table.

 “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble?” Peter asked, eyes wide as he blinked up at you.

“I promise” you assured him.

He took the glass from your hand and starred at it unsurely. He took a deep breath as if to prepare himself before bringing the glass to his lips, taking a sip. His nose scrunched up, head shaking as he pushed it back into your hands. “Ugh, no, that’s nasty.”

You and Bucky laughed at his reaction, and you dropped the near full glass on the empty table behind you. “It’s champagne. People rave about it but it’s not really that good.”

“If it doesn’t taste good, then why do people drink it?” he asks innocently.

Bucky snorts, shaking his head. “They don’t drink it for the taste, kid.”

“Some people do” you correct him. “Some people like it, like Tony, Pepper and Natasha.”

 You were solidly in the ‘I don’t like champagne’ team. Tony had insisted on opening a bottle after your first mission, to celebrate you joining the team, and that had been the first time you had tried the bubbly drink. Your nose had scrunched up at the taste and it led to teasing for hours about your lack of taste in alcohol.

 “I think I’ll just stick with this” Peter said, tilting his glass of Sprite towards you. Something catches his eye over your shoulder and he grins. “MJ’s here!”

“Go get her, tiger” you tease, nudging him in her direction.

“I’ll see you later” he blushes, hurrying in the direction of his girlfriend.

 Your heart warms as you watch them greet each other. Their hands link, squeezing gently, neither of them ones for public displays of affection. They were truly adorable, probably the cutest couple you had come across. MJ was a sweet girl, a dry sense of humour and a sassy personality. She complimented Peter’s soft nature perfectly.

 You were glad she had accepted Peter’s invitation, though you knew she wasn’t a fan of large fancy parties. Everyone was told that they needed a date for the gala, and Peter had worried that MJ wouldn’t accompany him, and Tony would be disappointed that he was failed to acquire a date. You had reassured him, of course, but that worry was still there.

 “I adore them” you sigh happily, watching as they huddle at a corner table to hide and talk, rather than socialise.

“Trust me, everyone knows” Bucky nods. When you turn to his with a raised eyebrow, he continues, “You provide the kid with a bouquet every time you see him, just so he can give them to MJ.”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink. “She likes the white and blue hydrangeas.”

It was quiet for a moment before Bucky spoke again, “You know the last time she came to the compound, he took her to the sanctuary?” “I’m not surprised, everyone visits at some point” you grin for a moment before turning a little more serious. “I found Richard from HR there the other week. He was picking at some of the daisies… which mysteriously suddenly grew sharp thorns. He’s been permanently banned, and I asked Pepper to send a compound-wide email with instructions of not to touch our flowers.”

 From the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky give a small smile at your use of the word ‘our’. You quickly lifted your glass for another sip of your drink, attempting to hide the blush colouring your cheeks.

 You had been truthful in your words. In your mind, the flowers belonged to both of you. While people visited the sanctuary at their leisure, it had an ‘owner’, so to speak. However, you couldn’t help but feel like the sanctuary belonged to you and Bucky.

 Even though winter had come, you could still find Bucky in the sanctuary at various times throughout the day. He’d be wrapped up in his leather jacket, with a scarf and a pair of gloves on. Sometimes he’d have a thermos between his knees, a book in one hand and a cup of still-steaming coffee in another.

 With the amount of time you both spent in the sanctuary, you had gotten comfortable in each other’s company. You would share the bench and read together. Bucky would bring an extra thermos for you and you would pastila, cherry pirozhki, and plyushka. You sit with your coffees and snacks and enjoy the silence and comfort of the sanctuary.

 Slowly, you began to talk more and more. While before the conversations had been short, they slowly grew longer and more personal. His trust in you grew. You had been with the team for six months, and it had taken time, but he grew to trust you. you had his back during missions, you supported him silently through training with small nods in his direction, you helped his healing by growing sunflowers for him.

 It was during one of your evenings on the bench that he told you about his favouritism of sunflowers. Most of the plants in New York, at the time, were rather drab. Weeds grew from the sidewalk, some a spikey green and sometimes a sickly dandelion. He’d seen bouquets in stories, once someone had even brought one for his sister, but the variety was selected and with the fumes of nineteen-forties New York, they were often on the verge of weltering.

 However, when he had left the city of New York and went for his training with the army, he had seen them for the first time. Stuck in a bus of sweaty men, Bucky had gazed out the window and saw sunflowers for the first time. He’d tried sunflower seeds before, though they weren’t a huge staple in his area. However, he had never seen the flower itself.

 Bucky’s memory of the forties wasn’t the clearest, but this was a memory which he could envision easily. Dozens upon dozens of sunflowers lined the field. They stood tall, the large heads of the flowers pointed to the sun and soaking up its goodness. Unlike flowers in the city, these flowers were vibrant in colour. Bucky was sure he had never seen a flower so beautifully yellow.

 Through the horror of preparing for war, the flowers still stood bright and strong. It installed a sense of hope within him. If those sunflowers could be so full of life during war-time, there had to be hope out there. So, when Bucky shipped off for war, that was one of the things he would hope for. He’d think about returning to his mom, his sisters, Steve, and he would return to see those sunflowers again.

 It wasn’t just Bucky who had opened up. You told him about your childhood in the orphanage, of the children you used to help care for because the Nuns were always too busy. Though they could be kind, they weren’t exactly nurturing individuals. In a way, you couldn’t blame them. They had joined the church to serve God, and while some did choose to attend to the orphanage, a lot of them were assigned there by those of higher authority.

 You told him of little Nina. A beautiful little girl who was half your age. Just as her name said, she was a dreamer. She dreamt of leaving the orphanage, of going to far away lands such as England or France. She loved the sound of France, with the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre museum. While you did your chores and looked after the toddlers of the orphanage, she would tell you of her dreams to travel and explore. She’d been adopted two years before you left the orphanage, by a family in Austria.

 You had also found the courage to tell him about your time in the labs of Hydra. He was the first person you had openly spoke to about it, and he was patient and listened to you. it felt like it had taken you hours to tell him everything, the fear and hatred of the labs making you take breaks to gather your strength. He stayed quiet, a solid rock of support by your side as you finally told someone about what Hydra put you through.

 After opening up about your time with them, he told you about his. Hearing that someone else had been subjected to similar treatment… it brought you a sense of comfort because finally, someone may understand.

 Your interactions with Bucky weren’t limited to the sanctuary either. You sat together during movie nights and bowls of popcorn. He would spar with you in training, telling you to not use your abilities.

 “You never know, you could find yourself without them” he had said.

 You would leave out a plate of freshly made plyushka for him, with a small sunflower as an identifier of who the treats were for.

 When it came to the gala, it seemed natural for you to attend with Bucky. Just like Peter had been required to have a date, so had the members of the Avengers. Steve and Natasha, Wanda and Vision, Tony and Pepper, Sam and his current girlfriend Marianne. Bucky was your friend, someone you enjoyed spending time with.

 Going to the gala together saved you both. Wanda had wanted you to go with Richard from HR, the one who violated your sanctuary, and Sam tried to set Bucky up with Sophie from the third floor. Neither you nor Bucky were interested in the suggested individuals, so going together seemed like a pretty smart idea.

 However, you had not been prepared to see him in his suit. You knew Bucky was attractive, you had checked him out multiple times and had been teased by Natasha about your crush on him. Seeing him in a form-fitting suit, with his hair pulled back in a half-bun… it made your knees weak. You already knew that dark colours suited him, so of course he looked great in the black suit, but you’d also discovered that the pink champagne colour of his tie suited him nicely.

 Bucky’s tie perfectly matched the colour of your dress. Your dress was a beautiful pink champagne colour which complimented your skin beautifully. Spaghetti straps laid delicately over your shoulders, leading to golden vines and leaves which covered your breasts. There was a small gap of fabric between your breasts and waist, leaving smooth skin visible beneath the vines and leaves. The vines extended to the beginning of the floor-length champagne pink tulle skirt, which hugged your waist but then flowed freely to the floor.  

It had taken a long time to find the perfect dress. You had spent the day shopping with Wanda, Natasha and Pepper to find the perfect dress but all the ones you came across just weren’t…. you.

 You had tried on a tight maroon red dress, with a plunging neckline and a slit up the left leg. Natasha had been quick to praise you in it, her eyes wide and her lips stretched in a grin. The next dress you tried on was a strapless forest green, with slight ruffles on the skirt. Wanda had loved it, saying it ‘fits you perfectly’ but you didn’t think it was the one. Pepper had favoured a lilac dress with small flowers which climbed from the hem of the skirt. It was a wonderful dress, probably your favourite out of the three, but still… it didn’t feel right.

 You’d found your dress at the back of the store, hidden behind the colourful gowns that people usually went for. While still elegant, it was slightly more subtle than the other dresses in the store. As soon as you saw it, you knew you had to try it on. It was while you were putting it on that you came across the realisation.

 There was some form of floral design on every one of your outfits.

 The black jeans you had worn that day had small sunflowers stitched into the waist band and along the ankles. Most of your tops had pastel flowers pained on them, or bronze leaves. You had even specially ordered a pair of Converses with sunflowers, orange roses and orange and red bicolour germini.

 You don’t know how you didn’t realise your fashion choice sooner.

 When you had tried the dress on, you had known it was perfect straightway. Even without your hair and make-up done, you felt, as they say, like a million dollars. As soon as you had stepped out of the changing room, the girls had praising you and telling you ‘its like it was made for you’.

 When you had met Bucky at the compound, ready for the drive to the gala venue, he’d quickly complimented you. You noticed how his eyes trailed over your appearance appreciatively, with his mouth slightly dropped open for a moment before he quickly caught himself. Offering you his arm, he had given you and small smile and told you looked beautiful.

 You had thought for sure that you were going to die from the heat filling your cheeks. Your throat had seemed to close up and her heartbeat erratically in your chest from his compliment. You had been hyper aware of his presence by your side, his usual calm and quiet self except when he whispered quietly in your ear about a stuck-up attendee.

 “Mrs Archard thinks Pepper’s choice of band is appalling” Bucky whispers, pointing discreetly to the seventy-year-old woman who stood beside her husband, sipping on her gin and tonic.

“She thinks this is bad?” you head tilted in the band’s direction with a roll of your eyes. “This is classic music, no doubt from her generation.”

“Shh!” he quickly hushed you, turning you both when Mrs Archard looked in your direction. “Oh, hey, look.” He pointed over to the bar, your eyes widening when your eyes land on the person he’s pointing out. “Its that the guy who played Sally? In the plane film?”

“Sully!” you correct him, going on you tip toes to get a better view. “And the film was based on a real event, Bucky, you know that. It’s Tom Hanks, the Tom Hanks, and he’s here!”

“Let’s go meet him” Bucky shrugs, beginning to pull you in the direction of your idol.

You quickly pull on his arms, bringing him to a stop. “No! No way! I can’t meet him, that’s crazy.”

“Y/N, doll, he’s just a man” he said, and you can see the corner of his lips tilt up in amusement.

“No, Bucky, he’s not!” you insist. “He’s Tom Hanks! I can’t meet him, no way.”

When Bucky tried to tug you over to the bar again, you quickly duck away from him and dart to the other side of the room. Since coming to America, and joining the Avengers, your exposure to film and TV had increased. From the countless movie nights with the team, you had discovered your love for Tom Hanks.

 The actor was incredible, and he made you feel content while you were watching him. You had watched all over his work, multiple times, and you respected him immensely. He was your favourite actor, and an idol you looked up to.

 You were, however, much to shy to go and introduce yourself. You were a member of the Avengers, a highly skilled, Hydra changed agent but meeting your favourite actor? You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t know why the thought of meeting him shook you to the core, maybe because, in your mind, he was so pure and so good, far away from the dangers of your life, that you didn’t want to taint that by introduction yourself.

 Bucky, however, clearly didn’t think you should miss out on the opportunity to meet your idol. When you heard him say your name ten minutes later, you turned to find him standing there with the man himself.

 “Tom, this is-” Bucky began to introduce you with a small smirk.

“Y/N, yes” Mr Hanks interrupted with a nod. “I’m a huge fan, I’ve seen you in action on the news. Absolutely incredible.”

“Oh, erm, wow, erm, that, I-I, wow” you stammered, completely star struck.

“Y/N’s a huge fan of your work, Tom” Bucky informed him.

“Oh, so we have a mutual appreciation of each other” he chucked, gently patting your arm.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Mr Hanks” you finally found your words, your cheeks heating up.

“I could say the same” he assured you with a smile. “Bucky was just talking about you and I just had to get him to introduce us. As I said, I saw the work you’ve done on the news. Your saving of those children in Cambodia… Its honestly inspiring.”

 Your heart was in your throat for the next ten minutes while you spoke with your idol, who actually said that you were his. To know someone you looked up to regarded you with so much respect, it made you appreciate the man even more.

 When a gala photographer asked to take your picture with Bucky and Tom, who had insisted you call him that, you couldn’t stop smiling. And the next day, when Bucky gave you a copy of the framed photograph, it was if the smile would never leave your face.

  December

 Your birthday passed in a blur of happiness and excitement. The day seemed so long, and yet so short. You’d entered the kitchen to a wonderful breakfast, where you, of course, sat between to of your friends and avoided the corners, as per tradition.

 Natasha gently took hold of your ear, tugging it and saying the traditional; “Rasti - ne bud’ laphoy [Grow up – don’t be noodles.]”

 The presents were wonderful. Natasha had brought you a new pair of black heels with, of course, a floral pattern. Wanda and Vision got you a beautiful jumpsuit to match which you couldn’t wait to try on. Steve and Sam had teamed up to buy you a beautiful charm bracelet with a beautiful Avenger’s charm and a charm of St. Basil’s Cathedral. Tony and Pepper got you a complete copy of the collection edition of all of Tom Hank’s work. Bucky had brought you a beautiful silver sunflower charm for your bracelet and, later, gave you a small collection of sharp throwing knives.

 You loved all your gifts, but the throwing knives made you tingle. You had spoken to Bucky weeks ago about them, telling him that you had seen a beautiful collection in a store over the other side of town. And from your limited description of them, he had found them and got them you.

 You couldn’t stop yourself when he gave them to you and had automatically thrown your arms around his shoulders. He had frozen at your abrupt action, seeming shocked. As you moved to pull away, his arms came around your waist. His metal arm was a heavy weight against your back but also incredibly light and gentle as he didn’t want to harm you.

 His manly scent of mint, the outdoors and just pure Bucky filled your nose and made your eyes clench shut. He smelled amazing, it was like your nose was clear for the first time and your first breathe was full of him. It awoke your senses and made you tingle as he took over your mind.

 You could have sworn there was a light pink tint to his cheeks when you pulled away, but you couldn’t be sure.

 It was an incredibly thoughtful gift and you had been quick to cover the blades in toxins which would render a person unconscious. Throughout your training, you had always favoured small blades which include the small throwing knives. They seemed to work best with your abilities.

 Throughout December, you noticed a subtle change in Bucky. Though he tried to seem casual about it, it was obviously to you. You were completely in-tune with everything he did, and when it involved you, you were even more hyper aware.

 Bucky touched you more.

 On movie nights, he would always make sure to sit next to you. Slowly, throughout the film, he’d relax more and more and then, by about half-way through, his arm would be pressed against yours. Sometimes his knee would bump against yours too. When passing by you, he would press his hand gently against the small of your back, his fingers trailing the skin. Rather than asking you to move when he wanted to get to a cupboard above you in the kitchen, his chest nearly pressed flush against your back as he leant to retrieve what he wanted.

 Once, he had even offered you his arm when you were both making your way to the sanctuary together.

 If it was anyone else who did these things, you would think nothing of it. However, it’s Bucky. Bucky had never been touchy-feely with you. Before, he would touch you only when necessary but that had obviously changed. It wasn’t a change which translated to the rest of the team either. He still avoided physical contact with them when he could, bar Steve.

 You didn’t want to let yourself read too much into the implications of his actions. You didn’t want to wonder if he was doing it because he was perhaps interested in you, because that would lead you down a dangerous path. If you allowed yourself to believe that he did, and then it turns out you’re wrong… No, you would just ignore it.

 Your first Christmas with the Avengers didn’t go to plan.

 You noticed the new presence in your room straight away. As soon as the doorknob had turned, you were roused from your sleep and your hand had stealth moved to the knife under your pillow. When the hand touched your shoulder, you quickly rolled over, bring the knife up and towards the persons throat.

 Your wrist was caught in a strong grip and was twisted to the side. It wasn’t enough to make you drop the knife, but it stopped it from hitting the persons throat. You sighed at the person standing in front of you, releasing the tension in your arm as a sign of you posing no more of a threat.

 “If you wanted to get into bed with me, you just had to ask” you teased, pushing yourself to a sitting position.

“Maybe I’ll join you later” Natasha replied. “Get up and suited. There’s been an explosion in Kecskemét.”

“Hungary. What happened?” you asked, getting out of bed and moving to grab your suit from the wardrobe.

“We’re being briefed on the jet” she left the room, most likely to wake the others up.

 You changed quickly, pulling on the tight, dark green body suit. You strapped your gun holster to your left thigh, securing the weapon and then attaching additional ammo to your utility belt. You tightly strapped your throwing knives to your right thigh where you’d be able to grab them quickly. A combat knife was strapped against your right ankle, and you put the comms device in your right ear before leaving for the jet.

 On the twenty-fourth of December, at nine-twenty-eight in the morning, local time, an explosion went off in the town centre of Kecskemét. Fifteen people were killed in the explosion with a further two-hundred and seven injured.

 From there, it was reported that three different groups were making their way throughout the city armed with heavy weaponry. They were executing people indiscriminately. Men, women, children… babies.

 The Avenger’s had been called as soon as the explosion had occurred, with the team on the jet and departing the compound with thirty minutes. The Hungarian army had been deployed to the city, but it was soon clear that they were not equipped to the weaponry that was being used against them.

 On a large screen on the quinjet, Tony played a video from the streets of Kecskemét. While the camera was shaky, the image was clear to make out. Bodies littered the floor; buildings were crumbled, and dust settled over the streets. A group of men stood at the end of the road, one pointing off to the side as he spoke, gesturing around himself.

 Tony froze the footage, zooming in on the weapon in the terrorist’s hands. It was large and bulky, made with thick metal and emitting a glowing blue-purple light. You leaned forward slightly, your eyes narrowing as you took in the sight. You had never seen such a weapon before. Being part of Hydra, you recognised nearly every weapon known to man, and knew how to wield most of them. However, you couldn’t recognise this one.

 “That’s modified Chitauri weaponry” Natasha observed. “How did they get that, I thought we got it all?”

“well, obviously we didn’t” Tony rolled his eyes, shutting off the record.

“I’ve never heard of Chitauri weaponry before” you said, looking between the two of them. “And something with this much power… Hydra would have trained us with it. Where is it from?”

“A few years ago, twenty-twelve, Loki tried to invade Earth” Steve began to explain. You nodded in understanding, remembering the team mentioning it happening but you had never known the names of the aliens which stood with the God of Mischief. “A section of New York was destroyed due to the Chitauri army which aided Loki. We thought we had collected it all but then there was underground trading of the weapons in Queens. Peter stopped that. Obviously, the trading of the weapons expanded world-wide.”

“That was Loki-Loki by the way” Tony injected, raising an eyebrow at you. Out of the whole team, he was the one who objected against your… ‘friendship’ the most with the man. “You know, your little bestie.”

“I never said he was a good man” you defended. “However, he treats me well and I shall treat him with the same respect.”

“Yeah, really?” he asked, both eyebrows raised now, and his arms crossed over his chest. “And when tries to make a move on Earth again?”

“Firstly, we don’t know if he would do that” you argued. “He may be a bad person, but he’s not stupid. Secondly, I would gladly help to stop him. He may be a friend but that doesn’t get him special treatment.”

 The quinjet cut the ten-hour journey to just over four hours, and it wasn’t long until you were landing just outside of Kecskemét. You were quickly split into three teams consisting of Wanda, Natasha and Clint, then Vision, Sam and Tony, and finally you with Steve and Bucky. After a round of ‘Good luck’ nods, everyone left to their assigned area.

 “Y/N, I want you watching out for any civilians. You see any, you get them out. Watch the buildings, make sure none of them come down on us” Steve ordered as your group headed for your designated zone. “Bucky and I’ll take down the assailants.”

“Ah, so you’ve got the easy job” you joke, pushing a stray strand of hair back. “It okay, I get, you’re getting old.”

“Pft,” Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’m still in my prime, its that punk that’s on his way out. Dinosaur.”

“You’re still older than me” Steve argued.

“Don’t worry boys, I’ll visit you both in your care homes when we get back” you assured them.

 It didn’t take you long to reach the infiltrated area. Burning cars lined the streets, shops broken into with glass littering the street. A handful of people lay on the sidewalk, all on their tummy and went you bent to check for a pulse, there was nothing.

 You were about to turn a corner when you quickly reached out, grabbing the two super soldiers by their arms and pulling them back. You could feel it through the ground. The vibrations hummed into the floor, travelling to you. You could feel the movement of people walking on the ground, sending you clear information of what was around the corner.

 “Seven assailants. Two, far west. Three, east. One, front north. Two, south west” You reported, reading the vibrations of their footsteps. “Nine civilians in the building three ahead of them, east side.”

“Circle round the side, go in from the back” Steve told you.

“Got it” you nodded, turning to go back the way you came.

 As you pass him, Bucky grasps hold of your hand. He holds your hand for a fraction of a second, his eyes meeting yours. There worry in stormy eyes, but he quickly hides it as he gives you a nod, gently squeezing your hand before letting you go. You give him a small before continuing on with your task.

 You run up the road directly besides the one with the assailants. It takes you less than a minute to reach the house which sits behind the building containing the civilians. Bringing your knee up and to your chest, you aim your kick to land directly besides the lock. Within two kicks, the door is down and you’re rushing inside.

 You run to the top of the building, on the far-left side. The room you enter into is small, which boxes piled three-high. The boxes are full, nearly bringing with metal pots, ornaments and clothes. Taking care to move the items to restrict damage to them was not an option, you had to get the civilian out quickly.

 The wooden floor of the room split in half, bowing downwards, and allowing the boxes to fall into the room below. The floor fixed itself within moments, the crack sealing over and leaving no trace of having been there. The wall separating you from the other building began to break. Bricks crumbled outwards, plaster falling with a swoosh of dust as a hole began to form.

 People who had previously been cowering against the wall quickly move away, frightened gasps leaving them as they watched the wall crumble. The terrified voices of a woman filled your ears and you hurried to assure them in their native language.

 “Ne fuss, itt vagyok, hogy seítsek. Az utcán vannak olyan férfiak, akik ártani akarnak neked [Don’t run, I’m here to help. There are men on the streets below who wish to harm you]” You speak, holding your hands up to show you meant no harm. “Kérem. Ki tudok hozni innen. Gyere velem. [Please. I can get you out of here. Come with me.]”

“Hemlock” one of the children say, recognising you. He tugged on his mother’s sleeve, pointing at you again and repeating your code name, the name civilians knew you by.

“Avenger” the woman realises, recognising you after her sons prompting. She turns to hurriedly inform the rest of the party, telling them you were part of the ‘superhero’ group and had come to save them.

 It was still strange to hear someone refer to you as a hero. You had never considered yourself to be heroic, actually, you had often thought yourself to be the opposite. You were a product of experimentation by a terrorist group, who made you into a weapon. You had the power to crumble things to the ground, you could wipe out a city with a single thought.

 Of course, you wouldn’t do that, but you still had the ability to do it.

 In the months that you had been part of the Avengers, you had saved over a dozen lives. Still, you didn’t believe that saving someone made you heroic. Well, that was a hypocritical statement. You considered Steve a hero, Bucky a hero, Natasha, Peter and Wanda too. Tony, Sam, Clint and Vision, they were all heroes. For some reason, that just didn’t translate over to you.

 You waved the civilians through the wall before quickly repairing it. You instruct them to remain quiet before quickly leading them to the street below. Before opening the front door, you pause and take note of the roads between you and safety. The streets between the house and the safety of the Hungarian law enforcement were clear.

 “Kövesse a virágokat, ők a rendõrséghez vezetnek [Follow the flowers, they’ll lead you to the police]” you instruct them.

 You opened the front door and led them out. On the floor, in a straight line, was a of flowers going down the street and around the corner. You had created the path of flowers to guide them to safety, knowing that you couldn’t go with them. You had to go and watch your teams back.

 “Köszönöm [Thank you]” one of the women said, squeezing your hand.

“Megy [Go]” you encouraged, nodding after the others.

 She gave your hand a final squeeze before hurrying after the other.

 You ran to the end of the street, quickly making your way to the road where you knew Steve and Bucky were squaring off against the assailants. Rounding the corner, you see three of them on the ground, with the others attacking the super soldiers.

 An assailant aimed their weapon at Steve, shooting it in rapid succession as he held up his shield to defend himself. You lifted your arm up, pointing at him as you concentrated on the assailant’s feet. Vines quickly wrapped around his right leg and he was pulled off balance. The sudden change in stance loosened his grip on his weapon and stopped him from firing, allowing Steve a moment of reprieve where he could throw his arm out, knocking the man unconscious.

 Your attention turned to Bucky, who was fighting two assailants at once. He grabbed the thrown fist of one in his metal hand, twisting a throwing a kick into the chest of the other man. His flesh hand fisted, knocking the first man backwards.

 It was at that moment you realised something was wrong. There were four assailants on the floor, with Bucky fighting two and Steve moving to remove the seemingly unconscious men’s weapons; knowing that Bucky had his situation under control. That made a total of six, there was one missing.

 Strong vibrations pushed through the floor behind you and you quickly turned to see the final assailant heading for you. He brought his hand, holding a silver combat knife, down towards your chest. You right arm crossed over your body before moving up and to the right, pushing the knife to the side. Your hand flipped over, grabbing his wrist as you crouched and slid under his arm, you leg darting out to swipe at his ankle. As his leg went from under him, you twisted his arm behind his back and pushed him to the ground using his own momentum from falling. You grabbed his dropped knife and stepped off him, allowing the vines to climb over him and hold him down.

 When you stand up, you notice Bucky watching you. His eyes are intense, watching as you push the hair out of your eyes and step away from the man, flipping the knife over in your hand. Walking over to where he stands with Steve, you give him a small smile before focusing on the Capitan.

 “All seven down, civilians are with law enforcement now” you confirm.

“We’ll have to take these weapons back to the states” Steve examines one of the weapons in his hands with distaste.

“We’ll need to take a few members back too” Bucky says. “Need to speak to the others, find out who the top guys are.”

“Mm” Steve agrees before reaching to activate his comms. “I’ll get us a van to transfer these guys.”

 It took a further day to ensure all the terrorists were captured, the team wanting to be certain that all members had been flushed out of hiding and another attack wouldn’t happen after you all left. The younger members of the group squealed quickly, and it was only a matter of hours before you found out who the leaders were and they were flown back to America for questioning, with the rest being taken into custody by Hungarian law enforcement.

 The team stayed in Kecskemét for a further three days to help with aid towards the injured city. While the team’s actions varied, you focused on repairing the damaged structures of the city. Any cracks, holes, or chips were repaired with buildings foundations made stronger. You ensured that every building was to high standards you held, meaning that no one would be getting hurt any time soon.

 By the time you all arrived home, no one felt like celebrating Christmas. You were all tried from the long four days in Europe and just wanted to collapse into bed. Presents were exchanged, but there were no celebrations, just a lazy family dinner of take-out food.

 January

 You had a new nickname to add to your extensive list, Doll. You hadn’t noticed it at first but after the first few times, you realised that was the only nickname that Bucky used for you. He only ever referred to you by your name, or by ‘Doll’, never ‘Ivy’, ‘Petal’, ‘Pet’ or anything else.

 He only used the nickname in private, when no one else was around. Or he would lean beside you and whisper it in your ear.

 “Hey, Doll” he greets when you push through the branchlets of the willow tree.

“Hi, Buck” you return, moving to sit beside him. You accept the cup of coffee, curing your hands around the plastic cup from the thermos. You sipped at the steaming drink, letting it warm you up from the inside. “Thank you. Mm, you added caramel.”

He gave you a small smile and a nod, turning back towards the pond in front of you. “You liked it last time.”

“Oh Buck” you grin, nudging him playfully. “You’re going sweet on me.”

“Don’t know why, you’re a pain in my ass” he teases but you notice his cheeks are tinted pink.

“A pain in your ass?” you laugh, shaking your head. “I grew sunflowers for you, made sure there were plenty of plants for your little bunny friends. I have your back all the time, not just on missions. Remember when Sam and Tony were ganging up on you because of Sophie? I got them to back off. What about when you realised, you’d never tried fajitas? Who cooked them for you? Me. Who saves you plyushka? Me. Oh, and what about-”

“Okay, okay!” he interrupts with a small laugh, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m the pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, you are” you agreed. “You’re lucky that I like you Bucky, or you’d be in trouble.”

 February

 “I’m don’t know about this” Bucky’s voice reaches your ears as you walk towards the kitchen, low and unsure.

“Do you or do you not like her?” Sam asks and it quiet for a moment before he continues. “That tell the woman! We all know she’s sweet on you.”

“She’s pro’lly just being nice” Bucky disagrees.

“Buck… she’s not like that with other people” Steve’s voice joins the mix.

 Your heart stops for a second, who were they on about? Bucky had a crush on someone, who? By the sounds of it, it was someone who was nice to him. Then again, who wasn’t nice to Bucky. He was like a little puppy which the team secretly adored.

 You knew it wasn’t Wanda, she was happily with Vision.

 It could be Natasha. She had always had a close friendship with Bucky, sharing experiences which were eerily similar, and he had even shot her once, which she was completely okay with. It was a strange friendship, you admit, but it was clear that they favoured one another. They had silent conversations with just a shared look and seemed to be completely in sync when on missions.

 It could be Sophie, from the third floor. She was sweet on Bucky; you knew that for sure. She had brought him coffee, invited him to see a movie and made him baked good. You had thought, however, that Bucky wasn’t interested in the girl. Maybe you were wrong, maybe he did like her.

 A part of your mind whispered that it could be you, but you quickly dismissed it. Bucky had never shown any interest towards you that wasn’t platonic.

 “So, what, I just ask her out?” Bucky asks.

“Ooh, who are you asking out, Bucky?” you force a smile onto your face as you walk into the kitchen.

“Well-” Sam begins, his normal shit-eating grin on his face.

“No one” Bucky is quick to interrupt, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“Oh, come on! Sam and Steve know, why can’t I?” you pouted, reaching for a glass.

“You’re different. You’re not one of the guys or anything, you’re… you” he shrugged.

 Your shoulders deflated at the comment and you realised it was true. You were just Y/N, you weren’t one of ‘them’. You had thought that you and Bucky had gotten closer but obviously that assumption had been wrong. You weren’t close enough for him to talk to you about stuff like that, his words had made it obvious that he didn’t want to talk to you about it just because you were a girl. He didn’t want to talk to you about it because you were Y/N.

 “Oh” you nodded quietly. You filled your glass with water and walked back to the door. “I get it, sorry for asking.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean it like that” he rushes to say.

You held up your hand to stop him, giving a smile which probably looked more like a grimace. “Its fine, Barnes, don’t worry. I get it. I’m sorry for asking.”

 You left the room quickly, retreating back to your room and crawling under your duvet. You’d never called him by his surname before. You usually referred to him as Bucky, or Buck, and, when you were feeling particularly playful, sometimes ‘sir’. If your tone didn’t show that he had hurt your feelings, your use of his surname would definitely make him aware.

 It felt like hours later when there was a knock on your bedroom door. With a groan, you pull yourself out of bed and open the door. On the other side, Bucky is standing with his hands in his pockets, slightly hunched and looking as if he was trying to appear smaller. He rolled him lips into his mouth, his voice quiet as he asked if he could come in.

 Closing the door behind him, you returned back to your bed, pulling one of your pillows into your lap as he stood in the middle of your room. He looked around himself, taking note of the loveseat, which was covered with a fluffy blanket, your laptop balanced on the arm. Your wardrobe door was slightly agar and had a scarf hanging over it.

 “I’m sorry for what I said” he apologies again, avoiding looking at you.

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have been nosey” you shrug.

“No, you don’t understand” he sighs, his metal hand brushing the hair back from his face. “I didn’t want to tell you because… because…”

“Because I’m me, I get it” you assure. “I’m the person you sit and look at flowers with, I’m not the person you talk to about your crushes.”

“No, you’re not” he agrees.

 You nod your head, biting your lip as your eyes stings. Your chest aches, as if a hole had been carved through it. The thing that hurt you wasn’t that Bucky liked someone else, it was that he didn’t consider you a close enough friend to want to tell you.

 You had considered him one of your closest friends. You told him your secrets, told him of your desires to go back to Russia one day and see your home city. Of wanting to visit places you hadn’t gotten a chance to because of you were hiding before. You had told him that you were scared that one day, Hydra would find you again; something you hadn’t even told Wanda or Nat. He knew of your secret love to goad Tony into an argument by speaking in a language he didn’t understand. And he knew so much more than that.

 And yet he didn’t want to tell you this. You knew it was ridiculous to be hurt by something like this, it was small and trivial, but you couldn’t help your feelings. Your feelings were valid though. The person you trusted, didn’t trust you in return. It was, sad to say, a fact which you would have to accept.

 “You’re the person I have a crush on” Bucky finishes, his voice small as he finally looks at you.

 His expression is one of obvious worry. His blue eyes are wide and doe-like, watching you with nerves as you try to come to terms with his confession. He’s rolling his lips into his mouth, waiting for your reaction which he no doubt expected to be negative.

 “You… what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Me? I’m the person who you have a crush on? Why would it be me?”

“Why wouldn’t it be you, doll?” he snorts, giving a small shake of his head. “You’re amazing. You grew my favourite flowers for me, without hardly knowing me. You save my seat on the sofa during every movie night because you know that I like being on the end. You make sure there are toffees in the snack draw for me, and you hide the Starbursts from Tony and Clint for me… You took me to Starbucks and Walmart for the first time, and you helped me hide from the woman in Target. You trimmed my hair when I got too nervous about the hairdresser and you sit with me when I need my arm looked at. You watch out for me on missions and when we get back, you always bake me something to cheer me up…”

 He moves to crouch before you, taking your hand in his. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, likes its about to break through your rib cage. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Bucky Barnes had a crush on you. Your heart was souring, your mind floating through the clouds.

 “You’re sweet on me, doll, but I’m just as sweet on you” he tells you. “It’s okay, though, if you don’t feel the same. I don’t expect you too. I know that its pro’lly just you being nice. You’re always nice, nice to everyone… but… I just want you to know, it’s you that I like, and I’ve liked you for a long time.”

 One of your hands left his, moving to cover your mouth as you laughed in disbelief. The tears in your eyes changed from those of hurt to those of pure joy. Bucky liked you, he wanted you. You couldn’t believe it. You hadn’t allowed yourself to believe that this moment could ever happen, it was never a real possibility in your mind. And yet here he was, professing his feelings for you.

 “I do” you assure him, pulling your hand away from your face so that he could see your smile. “I do like you!”

“Really?” his eyes light up, a grin quickly spreading over his face.

“Of course,” you nod, cupping his face. “You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, Bucky, how could I not? You make me feel things that I never thought were possible. Being around you, I feel happy, I feel free. I can’t even put into words how much you mean to me.”

 By the time you’ve finished speaking, his hands are gently cupping your face, his thumbs softly tracing your cheeks. You could see the slightly tears in his eyes, and his smile is wide and happy. It’s as if he’s just heard everything he has ever wanted to hear, as if you had said the magic words.

 His eyes flicker from your own, down to your lip and then back to your eyes. You give a small nod, barely moving your head but he catches the movement and he leans him.

 When his lips touch yours, your breath leaves your body in a pleasured sigh. While his lips are soft, their a little chapped from where he has bit them due to his nerves. They were gentle against yours, the pressure light as he didn’t want to push you too far.

 You were on top of the world, your heart beating erratically as you leaned into the kiss, your fingers tracing his stubble. You had never thought that kissing Bucky would be like this. It was like a set of fireworks were going off in your chest, and you were more than happy with it.

 “Does this mean I’m your girl?” you ask him, smiling when you’ve pulled back from the kiss.

“My best girl” he confirms, pulling your lips back to his.

 And you went happily.

Permanent Tag: @sskhair​

[icyymocha]

Acts of Kindness

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Bucky loathing, insecurities

word count: 2,285 

Summary: From the beginning you both started dating, he was never one for showing affections, always opting to hold your hand; the bare minimum of showing any love to you physically. Bucky would show you his undying love for you through small acts of kindness and services. Throughout his life, the super-soldier was taught to be a gentleman. Always paying attention to his loved ones before he puts himself and his needs first. He’s always the believer who thought, ‘actions speak louder than words,’ kind of guy.

Bucky was disoriented and bitter. He was emotionless but it never meant he never had his moments of vulnerability. When Bucky was brought back from the blip and experienced his best friend leaving him with Sam and getting the worst therapist, he was so, so, so tired. He disconnected everyone—even his other best friend, Sam Wilson. Having a bloodbath of a past, he couldn’t stand being in a room with people, fearing he would hurt them again. He wasn’t himself. That was until he met you. You were kind and understanding. Unlike everyone, you weren’t walking on eggshells whenever it’s about him. You always showed him that you only saw him as a person instead of a monster. Bucky feels a warm feeling whenever he’s around you, yet he’s always stifling himself whenever you show small gestures of kindness that make his knees go weak.

Bucky thought he was showing how he felt around you and others (even if all he does is grunt and stiffen or stare when people are around). It wasn’t always like that it was the opposite for you. You thought he hated your presence, always noticing how he stiffens like a wooden board. So you started to distance yourself. Only believing he hates you and noting how he doesn’t like what you do. Oh, If only you knew. The first few weeks when you weren’t doing your usual morning routines (he’s not a stalker, he’s an observant person, guys) Bucky was confused and frowned. He didn’t push it and nevertheless continued on his day—ignoring the yearning feeling for you. Then, another few weeks came by, and then a month and, so on. Bucky was frustrated. Why were you ignoring him? Did he do something wrong? Did you finally see the monster he truly was from the inside? No….

He shook the thought away. He couldn’t have you be afraid of him now, not now, not after when it’s your fault for giving him these strange feelings. Sam pointed out he had a crush on you, but he was a stubborn bull and bluntly said “it’ll go away.” Wrong. He was so wrong.

So, after weeks of planning, Bucky decided to show his first act of kindness towards you. He prepped himself to have a bit of confidence in the mirror, having Sam forcing telling him to ‘man up’ By the time it was time to go and meet you (Sam setting the both of you up), Bucky protested and complained. Knowing how much of an asshole he was and how he took your kindness for granted. At this point, Sam was annoyed and being the best wingman he is (no pun intended), shoved him out of his apartment and dragged his ass to the place where you both met. The park. It was simple yet cliché. But Bucky, he was more than glad he had met you—by err running into you and knocking you off the ground by accident. He profusely apologized yet you laughed it off as if it was nothing. Months after the blip, he thought no one would recognize him, but he was wrong. He simply forgot you used to work for Shield and was there during the fight against Thanos. How could he have ever forgotten about you? You were there, since day one during the civil war, had he not realized about your presence? Either way, he was ecstatic.

Seeing you there all dolled up, Bucky hesitated. Sam huffed and shoved him a bit further more into your direction; Bucky glared at him. Nervous was an understatement. But Bucky was more than nervous. Every bundle of nerves in his body wanted him to run away but his heart told him to express his feelings towards you. Clearing his throat, you turned around and was surprised to see him there. Not like you were complaining. Bucky was wearing his usual black clothing but he always looked handsome.

“I didn’t think to see you here Buck,” you said, surprise written all over your face

“Well me either” Bucky said bluntly

Stupid, stupid, stupid—he heard Sam say in his comm.

“I—uh, I mean, Sam forced me to meet you” Bucky coughed awkwardly

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking upwards. His com is full of Sam’s ridiculous laughter and annoying remarks. He is so going to kill Sam.

“Well that’s unfortunate, too bad Sam’s missing out the fun,” you joked

The stiff tension in Bucky's shoulder relaxed a bit. Okay, good so far...

“Yeah, you’re right, doll”

Shifting his weight from one foot to another, Bucky looked down at the ground. Being around you was already making him shy away from but talking to you for the first time with a full conversation made his heartbeats rapidly

“Uh I got you something”

“Oh?”

Handing you a bag in your direction. Bucky waited until you looked inside. Anxiety eating him up to see how you react to his gift.

The bag in your hand felt heavy. You trusted Bucky, even more so than Sam (not like you’re ever gonna tell him that). You slowly opened the bag to see it filled with a variety of gifts. Your eyes widened.

Inside, there was a copy of your favorite mug you had broken during a food fight with Natasha. Next, were boxes of your favorite foods and chocolates. Then, a small amount of jewelry and a sweater with your favorite band. Others were some of your favorite novels. Last, was a letter? Wait, a letter from Bucky? That’s new.

You put down the gift bag and carefully opened the letter you assumed was written by Bucky.

Dear Y/n,

Uh, I don’t know where to start but nothing I do could match for all the acts of kindness you had shown me throughout the years.

I, uh, I’m sorry for all the shit you had to put up from me. I acted like an ass and I took everything for granted of your consideration for me. I never realized I hadn’t told you how I felt about you until you started to distance yourself around me. It’s not your fault, I understand.

Being known as a weapon from Hydra and a murder for killing the innocence of people, I understand if you’ve distanced yourself because of that. I never meant to scare you away. It’s quite far from that.

I always wanted to express how I felt around you. The way you gave me a warm feeling inside of me, made me feel loved and cared for. But I was never one for physical contact and I never know how to act around you nor tell you words about it. No words could ever describe what you mean to me, how much beauty you hold can have everyone look at you. If I’m being honest, you got me whipped and so is everyone else around your finger.

It was clear to me that I wasn’t always the best with people nor did I care enough to see how my actions or words could affect a person. I never realized I didn’t observe a person’s well-being enough to understand that this would create a drift between you and me. I’m sorry I never communicated with you—regardless even it’s just a quick yes or no question.

Sincerely,

James Buchanan Barnes.

It was eerily quiet. The tension between both couples was awkward. Bucky didn’t know whether to stay or leave and dig his grave six feet down in secondhand embarrassment. He quickly looked down at the ground, ashamed. He had a feeling he should’ve never written that letter to you, it was stupid and a dumb idea. Thoughts raced through his head; his fear of rejection of you leaving him. He lost so many people in his life, Bucky would’ve been devastated if you left because of him. It would be beyond the repair of what’s left of him that Bucky gave to you each day, pieces by pieces. Shallow breathes became heavier but Bucky gulped painfully, ignoring the burning feeling in his throat for a release of hot air.

What if this is the end? What if you hated him now? What if you left him because you found out who he truly was? What if you left because he never approached you as other people did? What if-

A gentle motion of a hand grazed his right bicep soothingly. He gulped even harder. This is it, Bucky tells himself. Yet no harsh words came at him nor did the mercilessness of a slap come towards him. But, two fingers grabbing a hold of his chin, forcing him to look up at the eyes that took his breath away.

“Bucky?” y/n whispered

closing his eyes, he waited for the rejection but it never came. He waited and waited. Feeling the warmth of two soft hands cradling his face, he leaned into their touch.

“This is really touching, thank you.” Y/n thanked, peppering kisses around his face. Their hands caressing his face, feeling the little stubbles underneath their fingers. Bucky’s whole body wanted to melt right then and there, already thinking how he needed their touch from now on.

Nuzzling into his neck, you murmured a sweet confession. Bucky already thought his heart had melted but no, it very much exploded—already so overwhelmed with this new profound feeling of love.

As much as Bucky savored the sweet moment with y/n, Sam had to interrupt it

“Are you lovebirds done yet?”

“I can’t stand watching an old man be all sappy,”

“Oooo Bucky's gonna get it,”

“We all know he’s gonna get laid y/n.”

Cue Sam fake gagging noises in Bucky’s com

Y/n giggled while Bucky clenched his jaw. His eyebrows furrowed and his crystal blue eyes darkened, he was ready to beat Sam’s ass for ruining the moment. You watched as Sam screamed for his life in and out of the park while a certain super soldier shouted profanities at him. It went on for a while. And during those moments, you recorded it all and saved a backup just in case to tease Sam about it. (You’ll never forget how Sam screamed like a little girl)

From the beginning you both started dating, he was never one for showing affections, always opting to hold your hand; the bare minimum of showing any love to you physically. Bucky would show you his undying love for you through small acts of kindness and services. Throughout his life, the super-soldier was taught to be a gentleman. Always paying attention to his loved ones before he puts himself and his needs first. He’s always the believer who thought, ‘actions speak louder than words,’ kind of guy.

He would always show ways of his way of saying, “I love you,” by refilling your cup in the mornings. Always made sure you were fed and hydrated throughout the day. He would ask if you need anything for personal needs, replacing your nightly skin routine when he thinks it’s almost finished. 

Whenever you have errands to run or missions to accomplish, Bucky always insisted to come with you whether you like it or not. He’s always so protective towards you and his biggest fear is ever losing you. He could never imagine hurting you or having you get hurt by something or someone without him being there to rescue you in time. A lot of insecurities were passing through his head, having that one voice in the dark corners of his mind, always wondering why? Why did you choose him? Bucky only saw his reflection nothing more but a weapon. A freak. When you found out about his insecurities, you made sure he was your first priority, always giving him extra love and attention. 

So, when weeks have passed by after that incident. Bucky found out you were a very affectionate person, more so before the two of you had gotten into a relationship. You loved feeling the arms of your lover; always feeling safe. You quickly learned that Bucky is now your personal coddler for warmth the first time he hugged you as you loved the sentiment and the thoughts of being held in a warm embrace. 

From then on, as Bucky kept pampering you, ignoring your protests and complaints, he made sure every need of yours was taken care of. Whenever Bucky feels like you are having a bad down overall, he would quietly take you to your guy’s shared bedroom and cuddle in silence, occasionally lazily tracing patterns and shapes to your back. Bucky was never the one to voice out his love, always thinking intimacy is better than a couple of futile words that cannot be compared to much love he has for you. If he wanted to, Bucky would shout out compliments and his love for you to the world yet it would never be enough. It would never be enough in his mind. You were his. And he would always make sure that his love is heard, whether he silently does so. The whole moment felt like a blur. Everything went by eerily quickly. Two years felt like two days being in a relationship together. Yet, Bucky is still the man who believes in, “Actions speak louder than words.” Nevertheless, he would never resist your charms and soft touches here and there. Those loving moments between the two of you as you cuddle in bed after a night full of passion, lazily tracing shapes and patterns on your guys' skin. Even if you had to do it in private, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[ilysmxiao]

your title is gone now, childe. | childe x reader

ok this is rlly shitty bc ive nvr written for childe before. the reason why i did was bc there was a yt vid (which the link is here) and a lot of ppl were writing ab it,, so i decided to join in on it and my friend rlly liked it lol. so im posting this here . this is super shitty tho, cus i rushed it. childe is probably occ so b warned. anyways i might start writing genshin fics, so yea. pls pls pls check the warnings bc this is triggering,, gn prns used !! i wrote this listening to i bet on losing dogs on repeat lmao summary : the love of your life remains as your enemy, even as you both grow closer and share memories you would never share with another person. although you truly loved him, he had what you didn’t. in our lives, we do what we can to achieve what we want, even if it ruins what we already had. we must pay the price if we sought to get what we wish. warnings : character death, gore/blood, knife stuff, possible manipulation?? jus overall sad shit. please dont read this if ur triggered by those things !! 

at first, it had felt like a game - a childish one, in which both had fought for the title they held so dear. a number was just so in many eyes, but in their own, it held much more meaning. to be a harbringer, you must prove your strength. to achieve such title, it wasn't considered dirty to cheat, as it all was just part of the game. as time went on, though, it all had lost it's meaning, though one continued to fight - whether that was to prove he earned his title, and did not want to lose the superiority that it granted him, or for other selfish reasonings that even his inner thoughts refused to accept. due to his own lack of true understanding of the powers others held to make himself seem all the greater, childe went into the war blindly; yet, at the same time, too aware, so much so that his concentration on his weak spots created a new one entirely that was left open. it was not paranoia that put him in this spot, but his own selfish reasons he had yet to entirely understand. a cough escaped the males lips, blood dripping down from the corner of his mouth. it was then, did he realize he underestimated his lovers strength, their willpower, and the lack of true love they held for them. even with a knife against their neck, they would not back down, and it was far too late to realize such. whether [y/n] truly loved him or not, whether they used him for the title that granted them so much power in liyue, he could not tell if what angered him was the lies he had been given or the very fact he so gradually fell straight into them. in the end, all that mattered was who won, but he was unsure if the battle he sought was one he truly wished for. although he was a merciless harbringer, one with no care for the likes of someone like [y/n], he still had a right to love. not only so, but at the end of the day, [y/n] promised him that if all else corroded around the two, they would always be there. childe refused to listen to the soft spoken echoes of the loving words [y/n] used to tell him. he refused to watch the sweet memories of the two playing with teucer, bringing back the toys [y/n] taught him how to make for the pure fact that the poor kid would not find out the truth - or when they would lay in bed together, speaking of the many stories they had experienced in their lifetimes that made them who they were now. but when all is said and done, what all of that was true? did any of it mean anything, if the ones people truly loved hurt them in a way that was unforgivable? when they took away the one thing that meant so much to them? when all is taken, what do they become; what happens then? "oh, oh, my little baby," his lovers lips cooed, their hand softly grazing the others chin. "what have you become?" a soldier that blindly ran into war, fighting against a force he could never put his finger on. the title of a harbringer was an important one, though, how important it was to another was never going to be the same as the other. childe lacked to realize such, stuck in a bubble of his own selfishness and his love for the other - he never cared to realize how much it might have meant to the other. he never sought to realize the power that being even related to one it gave them, or the trip that it would put them on. childes eyes gazed up at his lover, soon shooting away to the empty space beside them. upon looking into those blue eyes of his, one could see the color began to dull and the ambitions he once held began to fade. "i should have been more cautious of you, i would have never expected you to be the one to steal this from me." although he said it in a tone that could show the way he laughed at his own faults, [y/n] knew very well that he had officially been stripped of what power he had held. "you underestimate me, childe. did the acts of other teach you nothing? even the ones you love betray you, a war can not have two winners." a small, hoarse chuckle left his lips; a burning sensation growing in his abdomen. the blood continued to poor out of his side, in which, caught his attention - his eyes glanced at the wound at his side, then back at his lover. he knew his time was up, as the thoughts of his loved ones and the risks he had managed to pull through with scattered his mind - was it worth it, leaving his loved ones behind, his younger brother who had meant as much to him as he did to teucer, in the end? "i hope that..," [y/n] paused for a moment, a small sigh leaving their lips. "in the next life, we meet again, and that you are sure not to let your guard down." the gaze that casted upon childes body soon wavered, turning into almost a sad one, perhaps even a disappointed one - in that moment, when their gaze met each others, they both realized what this both costed them both. it was clear that [y/n] still loved him, and always have loved him, and that was the breaking point for the both of them. one refused to show it, the other was uncaring of what he had let the other see. what is left after life is what truly matters, and although you may not like how it ended, at least something stuck with you until the end. right? "i-i'd like to believe that, [y/n]," childe muttered shakily, his brows very slightly furrowing. "you truly can not trust those closest to you." although the males lover already knew what they had done, what it had costed them - the one person he had chosen to love, the last words to leave childes lips was what had made him fully understand what he had done and the pain was one he knew that he never truly would be able to get away from. "well, we will see, won't we?" there was a pause, silence soon flooding the air. childe knew his time was coming, he accepted it, and it nearly mortified him to know things had to end the way it was going to. "y-yeah, we will.," few words left childes lips, and another blade plunged into his stomach. another groan left his lips, his face coiling slightly in pain. if you were to look hard enough, you could almost see the tears that soon began to prick the males eyes. "i love you, ajax." soon, [y/n] wrapped their body against their dying lover, and childe attempted to do the same. "i-i.., love.. you, too." those were the final words that childe spoke, his body soon going limp in his lovers arms. the words he spoke still lingered, echoing in the bristling sounds of leaves swaying in the wind - nothing more, nothing less. to become a harbinger, there were no rules - you just had to prove you were worthy of such a title, no matter what it costed, no matter how you cheated the rest. life does not come with special privilege's, no one will let you surpass them willingly, you have to fool them into believing you cant, and only then will you be able to reach what you sought for.

[moony-artnstuff]

Holding on where I am able

Erestor/Glorfindel x daughter!reader

Note: First official chapter is here! Thank you so much for your kind comments on the first part, it really means a lot! Like I said before, this is still a work in progress and I’m figuring things out as I go, but I’m really excited to share this. Questions, feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome, as long as it’s respectful of course!

Story: Mitzuki wakes up in a forest with no recollection of how she’d gotten there. As she’s trying to figure out where exactly she is she remembers a terrible fact:

She died.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

She awoke to the feeling of raindrops gently falling on her face. A bone-deep chill followed, and then the pain settled in. Opening her eyes she was met with a grey sky and the thick foliage of trees. The soft drizzle created a pattering sound on the leaves, and the earth smelled of musk and petrichor. Grunting slightly, Mitzuki pulled herself up into a sitting position and looked around. She was lying on the shores of a river, the pleasant sound of flowing water blending in with the rustling of the forest. That’s strange. She didn’t remember there being a forest near when she--

When she--

Oh no...

What the hell happened to me?

Panic started to rise in her chest as Mitzuki looked down at her body. She wore a simple white dress and no shoes. There was mud caked to her hands and feet - which was not a pleasant feeling - and everything felt bruised, but there were no wounds. No indication of her bones breaking as she hit the ocean’s surface, of her body being thrown against unwavering rocks. No signs of her skin being torn open, of saltwater mixing with blood, of her lungs being crushed by the weight of merciless waves--

Nothing. This was her body, but it held no memory of it’s death. And yet--

She remembered.

‘Just breathe’, she told herself, and she let the air fill up her lungs and clear out her mind. The luxury of being able to do so again filled her with so much relief it almost made her cry. A few more breaths of the pleasant forest-smell, and she could feel her heartbeat slowing and the ringing in her ears quiet down. ‘Just breathe… what can I see?’ Once again she looked around. Aside from the occasional bush, a few flowers and many, many trees, she didn’t see anything that could help her situation, until she looked up. Big black clouds of smoke rose up from somewhere in the forest, indicating that something was burning, and where there is fire, there are people. Pulling herself up she immediately fell down again, letting out a strangled yelp.

“Damn legs...” Carefully she stood up again, and with wobbly steps made her way into the forest, following the rise of smoke.

--------------------------------------~ ( . ) ~--------------------------------------

It was a village. Or at least the remains of it. From the bush where she was hidden she saw half-burned down houses and shattered glass on the ground. Several items - was that a sword? - littered the streets and all was deathly silent. ‘How strange’, Mitzuki thought, ‘everything looks so medieval’. As quiet as she could she crept out from behind the bush and made her way down to the streets, careful not to step in any shards of broken glass and checking every corner to see if she could find people. She had to stifle a yelp when she stepped on a sharp rock, cursing under her breath as she grumbled to herself that - although she wasn’t certain whether or not she had been wearing a dress when she had drowned, she most definitely had been wearing shoes, so where had they gone off to?

Then she heard voices. A soft murmuring from a few streets further down, and as she rounded the last corner and peaked from behind the safety of a half-burned down wall, the sight she was met with made her stomach turn. There, in the middle of a square was a pile of disgusting looking creatures, with deformed limbs and black-greyish skin. The part of their eyes that should’ve been white was yellow, and the unseeing look on their horrifying faces made her skin crawl. Smoke rose from the pile, and as the stench of burned, rotten flesh hit her nostrils Mitzuki had to fight the urge to vomit. Surrounding the pile of… creatures, a small group of people were discussing something. They wore strange clothes and carried swords, and all of them had long hair braided tightly onto their heads.

‘Did I stumble across some renaissance fair?’ That would have been pretty cool though, she had always wanted to go to one. Then all of the sudden one of the men turned his head and looked her straight in the eye, making her freeze in her spot.

Shit.

The man said something to his companions, and then they all started making their way towards her with very real, very sharp looking swords in hand.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit--

Stumbling back and tripping over her feet in her haste, Mitzuki quickly tried to get away, but froze again when she felt her back hit something solid and alive, something that most definitely wasn’t there a minute ago. Spinning around and looking up, her gaze was met with sapphire eyes and a stern face. Before her stood an incredibly tall man, dressed in leather armor made for riding, a hand resting firmly on the pommel of his sword and a head of long braided curls that looked like they were spun of gold. He was gorgeous… but also way too close for her liking. Behind him stood a group of people who were dressed in a similar fashion, and she could hear the footsteps of the other soldiers coming closer. Before she knew it she was surrounded, pressed up against the wall and fists up in the air, ready to fight whoever decided to come closer--

-- but no one moved. Mitzuki looked back at the man she had bumped into, and saw that his previously stern face had turned into a smile (which made him look unfairly beautiful, but okay). He pressed his hand to his chest and then extended it to her, saying something that sounded like a greeting, though she could not know for sure as she didn’t understand a word of it. At her lack of response, the man raised an eyebrow though the smile never left his face, and he spoke again, slower this time. 

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Mitzuki responded, and the man looked at her confused. A soft murmur started between the soldiers surrounding them, people glancing at each other as if to ask what was going on, before they were quickly silenced by the blond man raising his hand (Mitzuki guessed he was their leader, then). Once again the man said something to her, though the words he used seemed to be of a different language, a more flowing one than the one he used before. She still couldn’t understand him, which did not improve her mood, but perhaps he could understand her if she--

“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” At her attempt to speak German the man looked even more confused. Surely her pronunciation wasn’t that bad?

“Est-ce que tu parles français?” Once again she was only met with confusion, and people started murmuring again. In one last hopeful attempt she tried;

“Anata wa nihongo o hanasemasu ka?” Nothing. Someone stepped forward - a woman, now that she looked closer - and started conversing with the blond man, again in that flowing language she couldn’t understand. Now Mitzuki really started to panic. She woke up in a strange place with no idea how she had gotten there, then found a burned down village that looked way too medieval for the 21st century and now she was surrounded by a group of strange people playing a dress-up game, speaking in a language she couldn’t understand! They had not yet made a move to harm her but that could change any minute, so she kept her guard up, purposely ignoring the voice in her head that said that fighting a group of people who were all at least two head taller than her and carrying swords with just her bare fists was probably not going to do her any favors, but that didn’t matter.

The blond man had turned his attention back to her, and with his hands raised, palms facing her he slowly made his way over. She scowled at him, but that just made him smile. He kneeled down in front of her, patted his chest and said;

“Glorfindel.”

What??

He patted his chest again, “Im Glorfindel.” ‘Yeah buddy, I understood you the first time. It’s just your name that surprises me’, she thought, because seriously? Glorfindel? Named after one of Tolkien’s heroes? Oh wait, now he was pointing at her. Did he want to know her name?

Oh. He did.

“I-- uhm… I’m-...” Mitzuki hated how pathetic she sounded in the face of such a simple question. What is my name? She knew her name, of course, but for some reason she couldn’t get the word past her lips. Mitzuki. It felt so… distant. Like it wasn’t really hers anymore. And then the realization hit her again;

I died.

I’m not supposed to be here.

“I… I don’t know.” She did not see the look of concern that passed through the man’s eyes at the slight waver in her voice, and she barely noticed when he wrapped a cloak around her shoulders and then oh so gently pulled her along. As they joined the group the blond started to give out orders, and within a minute they were on the move, making their way out of the burned-down village and into the forest. It didn’t matter where they were going, not really.

This isn’t real. Mitzuki could feel a lump form in her throat.

 I died.

--------------------------------------~ ( . ) ~--------------------------------------

@luna-xial @tolkien-fantasy @guardianofrivendell @awkwardkindatries @aduialel @kumqu4t @trxblemaker @asraime @aduialel @legolasoftherings @miriel-estelwen​ I hope I’m not bothering any with you with tagging you again, it’s just for this chapter, but I you don’t mind reading this - you’re not obliged of course - I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback! Constructive criticism is welcome.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Chapter 12: Fairy Tale Of New York Part 2- Love In An Elevator

Summary: In the run up to the Festive Period, Katie presents the Publishing Company proposal to the Stark Industries board, and our favourite couple spend their first Christmas together in New York. New Year’s Eve is welcomed in with a bang at a Stark Industries Gala and Steve’s simply happy he has his girl by his side…even when there’s a little mishap in The Elevator

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: SMUT (NSFW!) So over 18s only please. And some teeth rotting fluff… and LANGUAGE

A/N: This part was a smutty one shot written as a request from @icanfeelastormbrewing​, but I decided it sits better as a part of the main story line.  

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 12 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 “What are you wearing?“ Tony asked as Katie looked up from where she was sat with Natasha in the main area of the party room, the two of them watching re-runs of Friends on the large holo-screen.

She looked down, “What does it look like?”

“A hoody with a Captain America shield on it.”

“You’re clever…” Natasha quipped. Tony ignored her and continued talking to Katie.

“Did he give you that?”

Steve, who had at that moment walked into the room, sighed and crossed his arms.

“No I didn’t.”

“I’ve had it a while.” Katie shrugged, smiling up at Steve “Hey Soldier. All sorted?”

He nodded “Tony and I did a full sweep of the venue. Evans is keeping an eye on it now until we turn up. We’ll do a final check before we start.”

“Where’s Pepper?” Katie looked at Tony. 

“Meeting us there.” Her brother answered, dropping onto the sofa. “Thought I’d get ready here and head down with you guys.”

Katie smiled and checked her watch, giving a start. “Oh, shit, Franco will be here soon to do our hair…then we need to get dressed before make up…Nat, we need to go.”

Natasha and Katie stood up, Katie giving Steve a quick peck on the lips as she passed him. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come up”

“Okay.” He nodded, watching the pair of them as they headed off to get ready.

“Safe?” Tony looked at Steve, and he gave a shrug.

“I’m assuming she means once they’re actually dressed…” His eyes flicked to the TV. 

Tony pondered for a moment before he stood up. “Drink?”

“Sure, thanks Tony.” Steve nodded, his eyes turning to Clint as he walked into the room.

“Hey.” The Archer greeted them both, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“What are you looking so pleased at?” Tony asked him as he rounded the side of the bar.

“I am excited!” he smiled “To see this huge New Year’s celebration to End all New Year’s celebrations you’ve been talking so much about…”

“Well, you know I can throw a party.” Tony mused, grabbing a bottle of scotch and three glasses.

They were joined shortly by Bruce, and the four of them sat drinking for an hour, talking about anything and everything, before Tony looked at his watch and decided he too needed to get ready. Following suit, Steve decided to brave whatever chaos was going on in the apartment upstairs and as he walked into the living room he could hear chatter coming from the bedroom.

“Well, it kinda fits, but I fall out of the top a bit.” he heard his girl say. “I only wore it once. You can have it if you want.”

Steve approached the bedroom, to find the door open. He took one glance inside and once he had stopped staring at his girl, he felt his mouth drop open at the chaos the two women had created.

“What the hell?”

Katie and Nat both turned in unison to find Steve leaning on the doorframe, staring wide-eyed at the mess they had created.

“We got side-tracked…” Katie shrugged before turning back to the closet. “Nat decided her dress wasn’t flashy enough after seeing mine so we’re looking for alternatives.”

"Is that supposed to explain why it looks like the closet threw up all over our room?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow.

Katie smiled as she kicked an errant heel out of the way and reached down to dig something out of the pile of clothes on the bed. “What do you think about this?” She asked, holding the shimmering navy mini-dress up.

“Do you actually own that?” Steve asked, “I’ve never seen it.”

Nat turned to him and raised a single eyebrow. "But you’d like to see it on her now, wouldn’t you?”

“I happen to like the one she’s wearing.” He said, and he meant it. The scarlet-red, number which she had agonised over buying clung in all the right places, but it was the thigh high split up the right side that was setting his blood pumping, as with every move she made he got a flash of her long, delectably toned leg along with a cheeky flash of that thigh tattoo. Her hair was falling in sleek waves around her shoulders expertly framing her pretty face.

“Oooh, now this I like.” Nat said, pulling out a black silk jumpsuit from the closet.

“Yeah that’s nice.” Katie nodded “I got that in London. Try it on.”

Nat turned and looked at Steve, jerking her head to the door. Instantly realising what she meant he held his hands up and hastily backed out of the room.

Once he was gone Natasha stripped off and shimmied into the jumpsuit, turning to look at Katie.

“Nice…” Katie nodded, and she meant it. Nat’s legs looked about a mile long, her waist was tiny, and the deep V neckline at the front flashed her boobs perfectly. “We just need…” Katie moved to her dresser and pulled out a roll of tit-tape, flashing it at Natasha. Once they’d adjusted the front, it looked perfect.

“Very nice.” Katie affirmed before shouting out into the hall. “Steve, come here.”

Steve re-appeared in the doorway, arms folded stoically over his chest, with a rather alarmed-looking Tony by his side.

“You weren’t kidding.” Tony muttered as he surveyed the mess.

Katie ignored him and looked at Steve. "Tell Nat how sexy she looks.”

“Katie!” Nat exclaimed, and for the first time in the history of knowing her, Katie was amused to see Nat’s cheeks burning red in embarrassment as Tony barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna tell her that,” Steve sighed, rubbing at his temple in exasperation.

“I think you look very nice, Natasha.” Tony offered, smirking. “For a merciless assassin, that is.”

“Fuck off, Shell-Head.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Rude.” Tony sniffed. “Anyway, I came to tell you your make-up artist has arrived. I sent her to Nat’s.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief and Katie looked at him.

“Okay, we’re done here anyway,” Natasha shrugged. “Let’s go.”

"What? Wait,” Steve stammered, spinning around and following them to the living room. “You can’t just come over and trash the place and then leave.”

“Of course I can,” Nat shrugged. “Watch.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m blocking you from this apartment.”

“Errr technically it’s my apartment.” Katie looked at him as Natasha left, following Tony, and he folded his arms. “Just shove it all on the floor, I’ll sort it later.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled and Katie grinned.

“But you love me. I’ll be back up once my make-up is done.”

He rolled his eyes again before he smiled softly “You look great already. That dress is gonna kill me you know?” Katie flushed slightly before she leaned up and gave him a soft kiss. “I can’t wait to see you a tux again.” “Yeah?”

“Yeah…but I’m gonna enjoy getting you out of it even more.”

******

“Katie looks nice.” Bruce commented.

"Nice,” Rhodey repeated “She looks unbelievable. Mind you I still remember her as an eighteen year old student with blue streaks in her hair…”

Steve smiled as he watched Katie from where he was propped up against the bar talking to Rhodey and Bruce. She was mingling alongside her brother, talking to a group of people from Stark Industries. He saw her throw her head back in a laugh that was ridiculously over the top yet somehow she managed to make it look perfectly natural. He knew his girl was a knock out. But when he had seen her earlier that evening when her and Natasha had been getting ready he had been lost for words. The dress she had agonised over hung to her every curve, skin bare at her back. Her hair was set in soft, thick waves which framed her face. Her lips were painted in a smiliar red to her dress and the thick, smoky shadow and eyeliner over her lids made her green eyes stand out even more. As he watched, the dark haired, slightly overweight man she was stood next to dropped a hand to the bottom of her back and she turned to smile at him, gently patting his shoulder before she glanced over as Steve, rolled her eyes and mouthed “help me.” He let out a chuckle “Scuse me fellas…” and he strode across the room.

“Ah, the man of the moment.” Tony greeted him, “We were just talking about you.” “Oh?” Steve smiled, dropping a kiss to Katie’s cheek. “All good I hope?”

He didn’t even have to shoot Mr Wandering Hands a glare, the man instantly moved away as Katie stepped gently towards Steve, his hand curling around her waist.

“Yeah.” Tony nodded “Sorry, Cap this is Jeremy Saul, Finance Director for Stark Industries. Jeremy was just asking where you were.” “I couldn’t believe for one second this gorgeous lady would be here on her own” Jeremy smiled offering his hand. Steve’s left hand gripped Katie’s hip a little tighter and she smirked into her champagne flute as he shook Jeremy’s hand with his right. “Good to meet you Captain Rogers.” “Jeremy is part of the board.” Katie said, levelling Steve with a look. A look that was blatantly telling him to be nothing but charming as Mr Wandering Hands could veto her proposal. So Steve was. He politely listened to the man, answered questions and nodded along until Wandering Hand’s attention was diverted elsewhere and he excused himself from their company, but only after dropping a lingering kiss to Katie’s cheek.

“Slimeball.” She muttered when he had gone “I swear to God Tony, it’s only a matter of time before someone files a sexual harassment case against him.” Tony snorted “Until he does something outta line he’s staying Kiddo. For one thing he’s good at his job, and for another I don’t fancy the rigmarole and bad press associated with a tribunal.”

“Mr Stark…” Happy called to him. Tony spun round to see the man tapping at his watch and gesturing to the stage.

“Better go before Happy has a heart attack, can’t have my speech being thirty seconds late.” Tony rolled his eyes and he span on his heels, striding over to Happy, placating the man who as making furious gestures with his hands.

Katie chuckled to herself and grabbed another 2 glasses of champagne off a waiter as he passed, dropping her empties onto the tray. She handed one to Steve who dropped a kiss to her head.

“I know I said it before but you really do look incredible.”He still couldn’t believe his luck at times. She beamed up at him.

“And you.” And she meant it. He looked good enough to eat in a well fitted black tux and slightly off-white dress shirt, along with the cufflinks she had given him the previous year. She had watched him before as he looked himself up and down in the mirror and now, looking him over as he stood by her, she felt her stomach flutter again. A wicked smirk crossed her face. “Can you leave the suit on later?”

He was about to quip back that he’d do whatever the hell she wanted if she left those heels on too, but there was suddenly loud music blaring out and the light on the stage all started moving around zooming in and zooming out.

Katie, upon hearing the music gave a loud scoff “Egotistical dick!” She snorted, unable to hide the laugh in her voice.

“I don’t…” Steve began but she shook her head.

“You won’t” she smirked “It’s by a band called Queen- One Vision. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand why he chose it!”

The introduction music finished and the screen sprang to life at the back of the stage showing Iron Man flying over the tower in New York, and as the first lines of the song sounded in Steve’s ear he let out a snort.

The video continued, various bits of footage of Tony in the Iron Man suit, in the office, then there were some of Pepper in the office, Katie, the Avengers…it was all very showy for want of a better word, but at the end of the music it abruptly stopped and Tony stepped onto the stage, right hand held up, thanking everyone for the applause that had broken out. Steve noticed that Katie wasn’t clapping, instead she was shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

To give Stark his dues, Steve could see the man knew how to work a crowd. Just like he had seen Howard do many, many years ago. He welcomed everyone, thanked them for coming and talked about the company achievements for the year, the declared turn over, the charity work and thanked everyone for their continued work making Stark Industries a huge success. Katie however had zoned out until she heard her name being mentioned, and Steve nudging her lightly with his elbow.

“Where are you Kiddo?” Tony repeated

Katie’s eyes grew wide “Oh fuck.” She muttered shrinking into Steve a little as the spotlight found them.

Tony beamed, looking at his sister as she was flushing bright red from being the centre of attention. “I’d like to boast for a few moments about my sister if I may. As you will know, Katie and I lost our parents when Katie was only seven years old and some wise guy deemed me responsible enough to become her legal guardian.” There were some chuckles “But I can’t have done too bad a job. She graduated with a first from Oxbridge and worked in England heading up our UK branch, and more recently left to serve if you will, as an analyst for an Intelligence Agency before resigning a few months back due to a difference of opinion with the boss.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Steve muttered, causing Katie to smile a little.

“And, as of yesterday the Stark Industries board voted in favour of a proposal Katie brought to the-” “What?!” She spluttered loudly, glancing at Tony who was on the stage, laughs ringing around the room at her reaction

“Yes Kiddo, they voted in favour of your proposal, which means next year will see the launch of our latest venture, Stark Independent Publishers. This is a great opportunity for anyone in the business who would like a change in direction and we will be opening positions up internally before we advertise. Keep your eyes peeled.” Katie gulped, her eyes wide. They’d accepted her proposal. She was officially in business.

**** The party carried on through the night, and about fifteen minutes or so before midnight Katie, feeling the effects of various drinks grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. A dance with his girl was something he’d never disagree to so Steve allowed himself to be steered into the throng of partygoers. He moved a little closer to her, slightly put off by all the people surrounding them. But as his arms found their way around her waist and hers snaked around his neck he felt himself relax as they began swaying to the music. The song finished and the music changed pace slightly, but their slow rocking motion remained the same and then Steve realised what the song was.

“Hey…” he grinned and she looked up at him with a small smile. “This is our song.”

“I asked them to play it.” she said, a little sheepishly, but this only made him pull her closer so that their foreheads were resting together before he rubbed his nose gently against hers as the music crashed over them. Steve adjusted his and her arms so they were in a proper dancing hold and they swayed to the song, just as they had done those months ago in her living room.

Tony was watching them out of the corner of his eye as he revolved Pepper around the dancefloor.

“Stop it.” Pepper said, laughing at him.

“What?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Watching them”

Tony smiled, not even trying to hide it anymore as he looked over at where his sister was dancing, her cheek was resting on Steve’s chest, top of her head tucked underneath his chin, as she laughed at something he said, tilting her head up to look at him and the smiling captain dropped a soft kiss to her lips.

“I’ve never seen her so happy, Pep.” Tony sighed fondly as he watched the pair of them dancing together.

“I reckon they’ll make great babies.” Pepper teased, causing Tony to choke on nothing and look at her.

“What…why would…is she?” Pepper let out a laugh and shook her head “Not that I know of but they’re in it for keeps. I can tell. He’ll have a ring on it by this time next year.” “Well, so might I.” Tony teased and Pepper looked at him, smirking.

“Yeah, don’t bank on that. I told you, we’re not ready for that yet.”

“Kiddo is fourteen years younger than me.” Tony pouted.

“And fourteen years more mature.” Pepper smirked as the song drew to an end.

“Miss Potts you are breaking my heart.” Tony muttered, dropping a kiss to her lips. She smiled and gently pulled away from him, patting his chest and heading to the bar.

The band finished that song and then there was a loud cheer as the large clock on the screen began to count down, Steve and Katie moved to one of the windows to get a look over the city. As the room erupted as the countdown finished, Steve turned to the woman in his arms and smiled at her gently.

“Happy New Year, Beautiful.” he said softly.

“Happy New Year, Handsome” She beamed, as his lips met hers.

*****

“You ok?” Steve asked Katie as she leaned against the wall of the elevator, letting out a huge sight.

“Yeah.” she said, “Just tired…that was…”

“Draining, I think is the word.” Steve’s hand reaching up to first undo his tie and then pop the top button of his collar undone. “I don’t know how your brother hosts those galas so often.”

“Well, Tony’s Tony.” Katie shrugged, “He’s a show off. I enjoyed it though. Been a while since we held a formal New Year’s party.”

“Yeah, it was kinda fun, and that was brilliant news about the publishers. I’m proud of you, ya know?” Steve chuckled and turned to his girlfriend. “And you looked beautiful tonight.”

Katie smiled and turned to look Steve over, and raised an eyebrow as she took in his now undone bow-tie, the snug white dress shirt, and his expertly tailored black suit which fit his physique perfectly. “You don’t look bad yourself, Soldier.” She grinned, her eyes meeting his and he gave her a smirk.

“I should hope so, the amount this suit cost.”

“Oh stop complaining” she said, “You’re dating a billionaire.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” He looked at her, arching an eyebrow. “You have no idea how hard it was tryin’a figure out what to buy the woman who has everything for Christmas…”

Katie shook her head with a snort “I thought you did amazingly well, your Ma’s ring was a perfect gift. Plus socks are always a good bet.”

“Yeah, I’m not getting you any more so you can just mix them all up to make odd pairs.”

Katie let out a laugh as her arms slid up round Steve’s neck, “You know I only do that now to piss you off.”

“I’m well aware of this fact.” he looked at her, his hands gently resting on the small of her back. “It’s a good job I love you.”

She grinned as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips but just as he was pulling away the elevator jolted slightly, and they were plunged into darkness. Steve steadied the pair of them, before the emergency lighting kicked in and he looked at her.

 “JARVIS?” She called out.

“Apologies, Miss Stark.” the AI replied “We have a temporary power outage along the left side of the tower.”

“How?” Katie frowned “I didn’t think that was possible with the Arc reactor?”

“It isn’t.” JARVIS replied “This is down to a planned system shut-down. Mr Stark has been running some updates and as a result there has been a temporary outage on the…”

“Ok, Ok.” Katie grumbled, “Don’t need to know. How long till you fix it?”

“Mr Stark is currently aware that the pair of you are…”

“That’s not answering my question, you know what? Just patch him through.” Katie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as Steve gently rubbed at her back. He knew she didn’t particularly like confined spaces, and whilst the elevator wasn’t exactly small, she wouldn’t be happy at the fact they were stuck.

“Kiddo?”

“What the fuck Tony?” She blazed at him “A System update?”

“I forgot all about it!” Tony chuckled. “I thought I’d postponed…”

“You thought wrong.” Steve chipped in “We’re stuck.”

“Yeah, I know. Want me to send Clint through the air-vents for you?”

“I am NOT crawling through air-vents in a fucking Galliano gown!” Katie seethed “Get it sorted.”

“Update should be done in 20 minutes.” Tony replied. “Sit tight…”  

“Twenty…twenty minutes? I swear to God, Tony, when I get out of here you are dead!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Tony replied, sounding bored “If you killed me every time you threatened to I’d never have made my 40th birthday…”

“You’re such an ass hole.”

“Errr, be nice or I’ll make it an hour.”

“Fuck you.” Katie snarled “JARVIS, I don’t want to hear from him again until this is fixed!”

“As you wish, Miss Stark.”

“Why is he such a dick?” She turned back to look at Steve, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

“He’s Tony.” Steve shrugged. “Hey, come on. It’s only 20 minutes. It’ll be ok.”

Katie took a deep breath before she let out a groan “My feet are killing me.”

“Take your shoes off then.”

Katie went to kick them off before she let out an exasperated noise. “Ankle straps…forgot…”

She went to bend down to undo them but Steve gently laid his hand on her arm.

��I’ll do it, Sweetheart.” He offered, dropping to his knees. He gently took her left foot, placed it on his thigh and undid the buckle on the gold leather that looped around her ankle. Once that was off he repeated the process with her right foot, and in doing so the slit on her dress revealed her leg to him once again and he couldn’t help but slide his eyes up her frame, over her tattoo which was peeking through the space in her dress and up to her face where her eyes locked onto his and he flashed her his best cheeky grin.

She arched an eyebrow at him, smirking “Down boy.”

Rising to his feet once her second shoe was removed, his hand traced up the outside of her bare leg through the slit in her dress, and continued underneath the soft material, before he stopped suddenly, hand on her hip and looked at her.

“You’re not wearing any panties.” His eyes were wide.

She shrugged “Would ruin the line of the dress.”

Steve let out a groan as he grabbed at her skin. “Seriously, you’ve had nothing on under there all night?”

“Nope.” she grinned at him.

“Doll.” His voice was a whine.

“What?” She looked at him, innocently “Not like anyone could see.”

“No, but it’s kind of a turn on.” he muttered, his hands moving so they were flat against the wall by her head.

“Yeah?” She asked, her eyes locking onto his.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, his lips nearing hers. “You know, we got 20 minutes.”

“Well, about fifteen now.”

“Good job I only need ten then isn’t it?” He smirked, his lips crashing onto hers. She kissed him back, hungrily as he pressed into her more, his hands creeping down to grab at her dress, hoisting the materiel upwards. His fingers softly caressing the outside of her thighs and his lips moved from hers to the pulse point of her neck and she gave a soft, sultry sigh. Steve couldn’t help but react to her noises and movements by pushing against her harshly, and the noise she made as his crotch rubbed up against her bare core was fucking sinful. His cock twitched but somewhere in his brain his logical mind crashed through.

“Fuck, are there cameras in here?”

“The power’s out, they won’t be working.” Katie mumbled, as her hands went to his belt buckle. “Shut up and stop thinking.”

With a clink she’d undone his belt and the top button of his flies, before she slid down the zip, pushing his suit pants down slightly over his hips. Her hand reached into his boxers and she grasped him in her hand and Steve let out a hiss.

“Buy a guy a drink first, Doll.” he mumbled, his lips returning to hers.

“I bought you plenty, not my fault it doesn’t have any affect coz of your stupid serum…”

“Stupid?” He grinned against her mouth before his lips and teeth skated over her jaw line to her neck “Not what you say after we’ve gone a few rounds.”

“Quit talking and fuck me, Steve.” She groaned, her head rolling back against the wall of the elevator. With a smirk Steve reached down, flipping the waistband of his boxers over before he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her easily off her feet. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist, arms looped around his neck as he pressed her further against the wall using it to keep her supported as one hand gripped at her waist, the other flat against the cool metal behind her.

She rolled her hips, hard against him, causing Steve to let out a groan as his lips found hers again, hungrily kissing her while his hand skated from her hip over her bare stomach, reaching down to grab his cock before he lined himself up. With a swift drive forwards he pushed into her, a little forcefully, making her cry out sharply, one hand going to grip his bicep, the other against the wall to steady herself.

“Fuck…” she groaned as he pulled back, thrusting again, deeply as her head fell back with a bang against the wall. Steve reached round and unhooked the fastenings of her dress at the back causing it to fall forward, groaning as he found she was also bra-less.

“You’re a fucking minx.” He panted, his thrusts still deep and powerful as he gently circled a nipple with his tongue, teasing her with his mouth as she groaned, pushing down onto him further. She arched her back, the motion made him go deeper inside of her, drawling a loud moan from them both at the feeling.

“Stevie, you feel so good.” Katie moaned and he let out a groan of his own at her words, his thrusts still powerful, jolting her with every move he made.  Her hands moved round to his back, clawing desperately at his shirt as her head fell forward and her teeth nipped at his ear drawing a deep rumbling growl from his throat. Her hands moved into his hair, where she pulled sharply back, jolting his lips from their current positioning on her chest so she could kiss him again, sloppily, messily.

He pushed up again, bottoming out once more and she cried out into his mouth and he gave a smirk as he looked at her, utterly wrapped up in the sensations she was feeling, and so was he. This woman was his absolute downfall.

“Fuck, Captain!”

Especially when she said that.

“Jesus, Doll.” his words were broken through his panting, and he watched as she gave another sultry growl, her head rolling back against the wall as her hands clamped onto his shoulders. Steve felt the tell-tale flutter of her clamping around him and he continued his fast, deep pace until she cried out, a loud scream before she dropped her head to his shoulder, moaning his name, again and again whilst he pounded through her orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Katie…I’m…fuck!” His words tumbled into her hair as his movements became desperate and he came with a force he wasn’t quite sure he’d felt before. His knees threatened to buckle but he managed to keep himself upright, pressing into her more as the pair of them struggled for breath. Katie watched him for a second, smiling to herself as those ridiculously long eyelashes fluttered against his flushed cheeks. Her fingers gently skated up his neck and into his hair as he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes remaining closed as he regained his composure.

“You good?” He asked her softly as he opened his crystal blue eyes to look at her, and she gave him a grin, nodding. Gently he set her back on her feet where she re-arranged her dress, and he sorted his pants out, tucking his shirt back in. Grabbing his jacket he gently placed it over her shoulders as he could see she was a little cold now, before he looked at her and gently brushed the tendrils of hair that had fallen over her face back. His hand on her cheek, his lips gently caught hers in a soft, tender kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones they had shared moments before.

“I love you.” He said softly, and he pulled her to him, nuzzling into her hair as he sighed.

“Love you too Soldier” She murmured, causing him to chuckle before the emergency lighting flickered and the main lights of the elevator flashed back on, causing them both to blink.

“We have movement Kiddo!” Tony’s voice rang round the elevator “Told you it wouldn’t be long…”

“It was long enough.” Katie replied back, winking at Steve who gave a snort of laughter as the elevator once more began to rise, before it stopped at their floor. Steve bent to retrieve Katie’s shoes, taking them both in his right hand as he offered her his left. Her fingers linked into his and he led them out of the elevator and into the apartment.

*****

“We all good J?” Tony asked, leaning back in his arm chair glancing at the screen which were projecting out of the coffee table in front of him. The levels seemed ok and everything was back online. He’d completely forgotten he’d scheduled that update and he hadn’t really been planning on dealing with it after he’d drunk so much. Still, even drunk he was a genius so…

“Yes, Sir. Systems are all back on line and Miss Stark and Captain Rogers are safely back in their apartment.”

Tony sighed. “I’ll be getting my ass kicked tomorrow for that.”

“I don’t doubt it sir.” JARVIS replied.

“Thanks J.” Tony smirked “Happy New Year buddy.””

“And to you Mr Stark. Seeing that it is, indeed, a New Year, would you permit me to give you some advice, Sir, to ensure it starts off in the best way possible?”

“Advice?” Tony frowned, before he shrugged, necking the scotch in his glass. “Sure, shoot.”

“May I suggest you delete the security footage from the Residential Elevator.” JARVIS spoke. “Miss Stark wrongly assumed that the power outage would cut the security systems. I’m not sure that the video of the twenty minutes they spent in the elevator should remain on file.”

Tony frowned for a moment, before he understood what JARVIS was implying and let out a low groan. “Gross.” he mumbled “Yeah, yeah, delete it, permanently. And then get someone in there to give the thing a deep clean.”

“Certainly Sir. Goodnight.”

“Night J.” He said, standing up. Tony stretched, looking down at the screens as they turned off before he gave a snort. “Happy New Year Kiddo.” he mumbled, before he headed into his bedroom to find Pepper.

****

The first slivers of the New Year daylight flitted across Steve’s face and he gave a soft hmmm of contentment, rolling over, pulling his girl closer. Nestling his face into her neck he allowed her warmth and softness to wash over him as Katie muttered something, her body soon relaxing again as she continued to sleep. Simply put, he couldn’t remember a time he had enjoyed the holiday period so much. He’d had good times as a kid, even though his Ma had never been able to afford much she had always made Christmas as special as she could, but this…this just felt good. More than good actually, it felt better than anything ever had before.

If Steve was honest he couldn’t ever imagine waking up next to anyone else. Not now, not ever. His Ma had always told him “When you know, Stevie, you know…” and he knew. 

If this was how he spent every morning for the rest of his life, well Steve Rogers would die a happy man.

Last night had been their first proper public appearance as a couple at a formal event, there hadn’t been any others to attend really, and he knew there had been a few heads turning their way, but instead of the awkwardness he had expected to feel at all eyes being on him dancing with his girl, he’d hardly noticed. Everything had faded to black except the woman in his arms.

He placed a soft kiss to her shoulder as he continued to doze, feeling utterly relaxed. It was another hour or so before Katie stirred besides him, her legs stretching out, brushing against his and she shifted a little, before she tilted her head, brushing her nose against his.

“Morning, Handsome.” she whispered and he smiled, eyes closed, his lips pressing to hers in a soft, hardly there kiss.

“Morning, Beautiful.” he hummed as she turned in his arms, snuggling closer to him, her face pressing into her chest as his finger-tips brushed up and down her spine, before he gently caressed her neck and cheek. Then the the simple morning cuddles turned into something a little less innocent. Bruising kisses, teasing touches were shared as Steve gently rolled Katie over onto her back, his hands linking with hers as he pressed them into the pillow at the side of her head before sliding home. It was lazy, gentle, loving as he kissed every single part of her he could reach, thrusting up against that spot over and over before he felt the tell-tale signs, heard her breathing turn ragged, shallow as she gently encouraged him not to stop, declaring how good she made him feel, how much she loved him. With a soft cry of his name, that pet name, Stevie, she tumbled straight over the edge she’d been teetering on and with a quiet groan that rolled in his throat he followed, his hips stuttering before he gently fell forward, burying his face into her neck as her hands softly tangled in his hair.

An hour or so later, after a shower they were sat on the sofa eating breakfast when Katie heard her phone going off. Reaching for it she frowned and then smiled a little…before she smiled a lot.

“Stevie, look.” She said gently, handing him the phone. He took it from her and blinked a little before he too felt the grin spreading across his face as he looked at the photo. It was one taken of them the previous night as they had been dancing. His girl looked good, as always, but Steve felt his eyes drawn to his own face, the look of unadulterated love on his features was something he wasn’t overly shocked to see, but at the same time it surprised him a little. He had no idea he made himself that easy to read.

“Who took that?” he asked, his eyes flicking to Katie.

“Tony said the photographer did.” she smiled “He just emailed it to me along with the message, and I quote ‘Thought you might like to see this one. Pepper thinks its cute but the puppy love eyes Spangles is giving you make me wanna barf.’”

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes, although he couldn’t give less of a shit about Tony’s starkasm if he tried.

“They’re looking at ones to put on the Stark Industries website, they always publish a gallery you know for people to see and stuff.” Katie continued “Do you mind if they use it?”

“Why would I mind?” he asked, handing her the phone back.

“Well, I know you’re a private person…well, behind all the Star Spangled man bullshit that is.” she shrugged.

“It’s fine Doll.” he said, “On one condition.” “What’s that?”

“Can I get a copy?” he asked, “I’d kinda like one for my apartment.”

She grinned and placed her phone back down on the coffee table. “I already emailed Tony back asking for two.”

Steve chuckled and leaned over to place a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

“You too.” she smiled, turning her lips to catch his.

***** Chapter 13

**Original Postings 1 2 3 ***

[rubykgrant]

(Here’s Grif and Simmons being stupid and not just accepting the fact that they are destined to snuggle)

The first time they slept together had been because they were both wiped-out after running training drills all day; they flopped down in the barracks, intending to head to the showers, but were too tired to get back up again. They landed on a cot… it wasn’t either of their cots, just some cot, but nobody tried to move them, and they fell asleep next to each other, still in their armor. They woke up about 4 hours later, now irritated because they felt gross (no shower), and hungry (no lunch). They didn’t even acknowledge the fact that they had been half-way all over each other, they just got up, muttering and complaining, with Grif stumbling off to find food and Simmons finally going to get clean.

Between then and being sent to Blood Gulch, there was maybe 5 or 6 more times when Grif nodded off sitting next to Simmons while they were supposed to be waiting for orders, or riding in a transport. Simmons would try to shove the other guy off, but Grif always fell back onto him (sometimes nearly crushing him). Once, Simmons had stayed up late re-reading some handbook about how to not get shot, and fell asleep sitting at a desk. Grif had been nearby, pretending to read a different handbook but REALLY sneaking some chocolate snacks he smuggled in. Simmons wound up leaning over, until he was pressed against Grif. Once Grif realized the dude was passed-out, he kind of just shrugged (thinking that Simmons was basically a human-shield to block the view of his snack), and went back to the chocolate.

The next time they slept together was at Red Base, when Grif had fallen asleep in Simmons’ bed and refused to move. Simmons did everything but literally kick him off the mattress (though such a thin little mat of fabric could BARELY be called that). Once again, they were wiped-out from running around all day… Sarge was merciless, and Blood Gulch was hot as hell. Simmons’ bed just happened to be closer to the door than Grif’s, and Grif wasn’t going to take another step. Simmons sat down on the side of his bed next to the wall and tried to roll Grif away… and even that was too much trouble. He’d only managed to make enough space for himself, so he gave up, pulled the only pillow out from under Grif’s head, and scrunched as far away from the bed-stealing a-hole as possible, until Simmons was pressed up to the wall. At least this time, they had both managed to shower first. Later, when they woke up (and discovered that they once again wound up half-way all over each other), Simmons had chewed him out for being so inconsiderate and annoying. Grif simply flipped Simmons off (he was far less concerned about sharing sleeping space, having grown up with a little sister who was always right THERE). A few more times where they were supposed to be keeping a look-out, and Grif would start napping. A few more times where Simmons stayed up too late and then just passed out. Whoever fell asleep first, the other one was always nearby, and somebody would lean against somebody else.

There came an incident at Red Base where they technically slept together… because Grif had been hurt. Badly. Between all the trauma to his body and the blood loss, he nearly died. Thanks to a rushed and risky surgery from Sarge, he didn’t. The main problem was; Sarge had various ways to replace the limbs and organs that were injured or failing, but Grif’s nerves were damaged… his body would reject anything inorganic. If they had better equipment and materials, maybe they could have created something synthetic that would work… but they only had scraps and junk. Simmons knew he and Grif had compatible blood (he had memorized his own medical information, and had seen Grif’s enough times when doing the files for Red Team to remember certain things like this). So, he offered to donate what Grif would need. By working slowly on Simmons, Sarge was able to add the cybernetics bit by bit, and his body accepted them. Before getting knocked-out for the surgery, Simmons asked Sarge not to tell Grif why he was doing this… if Grif knew how dire this had been, it would just be more complicated than it already was. Too sentimental and serious. He didn’t want Grif to feel all… guilty about it, or  read into it too deeply, or... something. Sarge had agreed, and then Simmons slipped off. Grif was unconscious next to him.

The excuse used to explain why this surgery happened the way it did; Simmons was simply more “trustworthy” as a cyborg soldier than Grif. This barely made any sense, but hardly ANYTHING Sarge said did, so it was an accepted answer. Later, Simmons had to deal with being heavier and lop-sided, while Grif had to deal with having mis-matched limbs and feeling light-headed. The metal bits on Simmons pinched painfully and itched where they connected to flesh. Grif’s new arm and leg would sometimes go numb (and freak him out, because what if this meant they were DYING or something?), and sting him with pins and needles when they woke back up. They got used to it, the same way they got used to each other.

Simmons nagged Grif to quit smoking because those were HIS lungs in there (he really just didn’t want Grif to ruin his own breathing again). Grif ignored the nagging for a while… but he started to ease up, and eventually stopped. It was just too much of a hassle to keep getting his hands on cigarettes, and food started tasting better now that he quit. Those were perfectly believable reasons. One evening, when Grif had been dealing with a nic-fit, Simmons helped distract him by playing cards on the floor in their room at Red Base. He didn’t mention that he KNEW Grif was trying to quit (because that might make Grif start smoking again out of spite). They talked for a while, about nothing in particular, and Grif started to settle down. They had pulled some blankets down onto floor with them, and as the hours went by, they went from sitting to being sprawled out next to each other as they talked. Before he could stop it, Grif passed out, dead asleep. Simmons thought about sorting out the cards, putting them away, gathering up his blanket, putting it back on his bed… and had a rare moment of laziness. He stayed on the floor, next to Grif, and slept there too.

After that, there had been more than a dozen different times when they slept together. Some of them had been due to passing out from exhaustion and lack of space. Once or twice, it happened with the excuse of needing to share body-heat (sure, they had been somewhere cold… but there were other ways to keep warm. This had been “easier” though. That was all. Yeah). Occasionally, only one of them was asleep, and the other couldn’t be bothered to move (Grif was heavy- that was the excuse when Simmons was awake. Grif was lazy- that was the excuse when Simmons was asleep). A lot of times, they were in their armor. A few times, they were in fatigues. Very rare incidents involved one of them having what appeared to be a nightmare… and they were already sleeping in the same room, anyway… so the other would simply come over to sit by them, talk to them, help them calm down… and then wind up leaning down to sleep as well. Not that they really cared THAT much. Not that this was anything IMPORTANT. It was just… easier to sleep side-by-side, offering mild comfort to each other (which was NOT special or significant in anyway), than to listen to somebody bitch about being tired the next day. Grif usually would anyway, he was ALWAYS tired, but his bitching sounded extra pathetic when he had been up half the night, dealing with some kind of horror in his own head. Simmons would sometimes still be jumpy in the morning, like whatever freaked him out in his own imagination had followed him into the waking world. It was easier for them both to talk through the night, distract each other, and then just sleep… together.

[that-other-him]

In the belly of the Leviathan

Warmind!Au Destiny story inspired by and tying in with @hdreaper 's own story just posted. Please enjoy!

Fear was something of an old hat to Winter. Memory skips left her anxious, quarantine duty made her anxious, being cut off from Rexy, her frames and the network made her anxious, the anxiety making the memory skips worse made her anxious...

But the fear she'd been living with for the last month blew all of that out of the water.

Ra-1, the fist of Rasputin, the Dragon Ascendant, had personally sent her a message to say that if she didn't start doing exactly what he told her, he'd activate the code-black killcodes built into her Rasputin Exo body, and blow her Exomind into electronic spaghetti. After all, she was wired into the Charlemagne network, and had a documented set of fears he could abuse. She'd gather confidential data for him, she'd send him warnings of Charlemagne's actions, and she'd allow his scientists to try and duplicate Rexy, and the fear of final death would keep her in line.

But.

But but but.

Rasputin's records of her had been accurate...once. Yes, she was still afraid, but her body was no longer a Rasputin model. It couldn't be; that whole area was considered an infohazard now, and her last body was never coming home. And without that final threat, she'd found the courage to do something...stupid.

So here she was, on Ra's flagship in deep space with Charlemagne's blessing. She'd met up with lance troops a few times for debriefs, but recently she'd been allowed to spend time on the flagship itself, ready for Ra to send her where he wanted her. But that same set of interface skills that had allowed her access to Charli's files had also granted access to just a few of Ra's.

Winter paced back and forth in the tiny cabin she’d been assigned. She wasn’t sure if it was some kind of power conservation action, but the light down here barely cut through the shadows. She could have headed up to one of the main decks where things were a bit less claustrophobic, but Ra’s soldiers were everywhere there, and being the only blue-lit Exo on the entire ship guaranteed her the kind of attention that, if things went wrong today, could get her killed. She checked the ship’s clock fruitlessly. Somewhere out there, right now, Ra himself was boots-down on Riis. The data scraps she’d found didn’t say why, or for how long, but there was no question that he was just a little vulnerable right now.

Just a little would have to be enough; her Guardian contacts, who she’d affectionately nicknamed Fireteam Fuzzy, had cut their way through all kinds of monsters since she’d met them, and she’d made damn sure they knew exactly how dangerous he would be. She’d helped Fuzzy find their targets and coordinated some bounties for them down in the Quarantine zone, and when she’d outlined her proposal, they’d agreed to pass it on without question. It could have been typical guardian bravado, but she knew they’d lost friends to Ghostbuster rounds in the attack on the farm a while back. Maybe they actually trusted her.

Maybe that trust was going to get them killed.

Pushing that thought away and herself to her feet, Winter shoved her way past the door and started striding away towards the lifts. One way or another, with the Ira Terra still out in the styx, any news of the strike would take time to arrive, if her information had even been good in the first place. If she was going to stew in uncertainty, she may as well do it somewhere that felt less like a prison cell. Ra may have been a terrifying, merciless, wannabe-tyrant, but the facilities he provided for his troops were actually first rate. She’d find a sim-station no-one was using and throw herself into some story until the guillotine had, one way or another, dropped.

She had made it to the first brightly lit corridor of the barracks floor when her whole body exploded into pain.

Protocols cut in, protecting her mind from the overwhelming agony, partitioning and quarantining it. The feeling of burning alive dipped, sank, then seemed to drain from her whole body into solely her left forearm. When she could see again, she was crumpled against the wall of the corridor, chest heaving, digital heart still pumping on overdrive. It felt unpleasantly like the worst of the memory blips-she was in pain, alone, with no idea why or what to defend against. She cast her eyes down and to her left, and just like with the blips, her circumstances slotted into place. Set into the casing of her arm, where her network interface and uplink were supposed to be, were a smoking ruin of burned and self-destructing circuits. Her only remaining Rasputin hardware, her connection to her frames, to Rexy, to the ship’s system.

Ra-1 had just tried to kill her.

Oh, if she had thought she’d been afraid before, it paled in comparison to the terror that swallowed her now. It felt like her heart was going to burst out through her chest. There was no way her guardians would have told him she was responsible, right? They knew she was undercover, and even in the heat of the fight, he could have sent the kill codes at any time. They’d keep her secret...

...until their dying breaths.

There was a crackling noise that initially failed to cut through the panic, until it resolved unto the familiar voice of the great warlord, and even as the announcement rang out the ship’s engines powered into life and rumbled the flagship into thunderous motion.

“Attention, warriors of the Broken Lance. A guardian strike team has just made an attempt on my life, using information given to them by a traitor within our ranks, Winter-1. The guardians have been dealt with, and I have already ensured she has been rewarded as a traitor deserves. However, an example must still be made. Have her remains gathered and waiting for me upon my return to the Terra. Her masters shall have her broken husk returned to them. A commendation to the squad who has her corpse in my office upon my arrival. Ra out.”

Oh.

Hmm.

Ah, ok.

Winter was pretty sure she’d just lost a minute or two by the time her awareness came back to her. She still felt like she was about to die (fully independent of the hundreds of trained and eager killers probably now closing in on her position) but the freeze instinct was graduating to flight. She had an exit strategy, at Charlemagne’s insistence. It wasn’t a good strategy, but the warmind had explicitly ordered her to try. She reached out with her interface to the subroutine she’d left running on the ship’s server, and-

Ah. Her eyes once again turned to the sparking, melted mess where her interface was supposed to sit. It felt like one of her senses had been scooped out; a huge, gaping wound where the network was supposed to be. Nevermind just the escape protocol, without the access codes built into it, ninety five percent of the systems in the ship would no longer recognise her as a person, including the ones required to log into any network access point on the ship. She knew where her escape protocol was located, and could theoretically trigger it if she could reach an unsecured terminal.

But right now she could already hear tramping boots approaching from the barracks and she had no choice but to run.

She lost count of how many times she blipped as she led a desperate game of cat and mouse through the guts of the ship. The Ira Terra was bigger than the Stultorum had been, back when she’d served upon it, but if the ship ran about the same, the cargo deck mid-flight would be on skeleton crew with nobody caring if an unsecured terminal was technically a security violation. So she kept heading down and back, focusing on that one thought to the exclusion of all else. When she blipped in this time, she was halfway down a corridor created by two shipping containers, moving towards the illuminated sign of a shift breakroom. She took the next step and immediately fell nearly to the floor, sprawling gracelessly and nearly braining herself on the container. Oh-she’d been shot. That explained why her right side and upper leg were one big mess of static and pins-and-needles. She supported herself on the side of the crate and limped forward, conscious of the shouts and stomping boots echoing from somewhere in the distance behind her. She made it to the door, shouldering it open, almost collapsing with relief when her flickering vision was met with the friendly glow of an open terminal. She immediately dragged herself to it, closing the chat and shipwide alert windows to immediately start digging for her protocol.

She must have been five seconds in when she heard the shatter of breaking crockery behind her.

Slowly turning to face the noise, Winter looked into the eyes of the exo washing the dishes in the kitchenette, set into the corner of the breakroom. For a moment, both were still, surprised, the other Exo’s hand still in the air where it had been holding the coffee mug a moment ago. Then his eyes flicked to the screen of the terminal, where a moment ago had been the bounty on the only blue-lit Exo on the ship.

She didn’t even question trying to engage him. She whirled back to the screen, fingers flying as she desperately raced to run the command. The man had no weapons, probably no combat training, but he crashed into her from behind and her leg went out from under her, skull bouncing off the frame of the screen as he tried to wrap his arms around hers, voice bellowing that he’d found her. She was so close it burned, even more intense than the pain. She gripped one of her hands with the other and shoved it over her shoulder as hard as she could, outstretched thumb punching into his optic and causing a very human scream that no amount of mechanical upgrades would prevent. His grip slackened, and she pulled herself out of his arms and high enough to see the screen.

There were shouts behind her, the sounds of guns being brought to attention, the exo at her feet was tightening his grip again, and her vision was fading into black on the edges.

She hit the last key on the screen.

Everything went white, then black, silent and cold.

It was maybe ten seconds before the first ship thundered across her line of sight in the perfect silence of vacuum, the many supporting ships of Ra's fleet rushing to keep up with the flagship as it finished positioning itself for the jump. Even its coasting speed had brought it far enough away from Winter to render it a tiny dot in the distance, before there was a flash of light and the ships were gone.

Her transmat had been a random distance in a random direction, untraceable, and searching for her would delay the ship's travel to pick up Ra. She'd be left behind in the void, passing beyond its signal jamming, allowing the beacon hidden in her circuits to finally begin transmitting. A waiting friendly vessel would be on route to pick her up, provided the fleet hadn't shot it out of the sky.

Which left Winter here, curled in a ball as the moisture on her clothes crystallised. In theory, Exos were built to be vacuum-resistant, but she had a feeling that resistance didn't account for there being two bleeding holes in her dermis.

The thought drifted through her brain as her senses shut down one by one:

Who would claim her first: the cold, the bleeding, or her rescue?

She found herself thinking that she didn't want to die again.

Slowly, the black faded back to white.

[avada-kedavrugh]

Murderer.

You confront Draco Malfoy after the death of Dumbledore. A lot of angst occurs. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you thought? 

Pairing | Draco x Reader

Genre | Angst

Words | 2373

Warning | Mentions of war, depression, suicide kinda?, death, swearing. 

Fired on by your pure rage and fury, a bitter feeling building in your chest, you stormed through the corridors, crashing into other students which only served to anger you more.  

People frantically dodged you as you went on your rampage. Your flared nostrils, blazing eyes and the way your veins bulged from your clenched fists were a clear warning sign of your emotions. Anger. And no one wanted to get in the way of you now.

You muttered under your breath, letting the bitter feeling burn in your chest and immerse your emotions. A baptism into a pool of hatred and anger - spurred only by your need for revenge.  

A range of savage insults and curses left your lips, a sinful symphony all aimed at one person. No one could even hear you but inside your mind the words blared.

“Draco Malfoy, you murderer.”

As the light shrunk away, you took stock of your surrounding and realised you were nearing the common room. Slowing down, you realised you didn’t even know what you would say to him. The bitter feeling in your chest had spread across your body and had now marinated every bone in your body and had spurred you on your rampage. Now your mind was empty. All the bitter words that had rushed through your head now vanished and you were dumbfounded by this new found silence in your head.  

Shaking yourself a little, you hoped that your anger was all you needed to keep you going. Draco Malfoy would get what he deserved. After all he’s done. With that, you felt your legs move forward again as the bitterness consumed you.

The only light from the depths of darkness were weak torches that flickered in the cold air that lapped at your robes as you stormed along. In the darkness, your eyes fell upon a Slytherin student minding their own business.

“Where is he?” You hissed. The student’s eyes darted to you, struggling to make you out in the dim-lit halls, your own eyes glared back at him. Burning through him, the dark glint in your eyes seemed to flicker in your eyes as you glared at him.

His eyebrows fell in a look of confusion and then irritation as he grunted back.

“Who?”

“Who? Who? What are you a flipping owl? Draco Malfoy! Tell him to come here and show his repulsive face.” You snapped at the boy.

The student’s irritated look switched to one of pure anger as he sneered at you. As he took a bellowing step towards you, his large figure entering the light and casting a dark shadow over you. Perhaps stupidly, you took a step towards him. The bitterness in your mind clouding your judgement. You were not about to back down and you definitely not let anything or anyone get in the way of the justice you sought to give out.

A venomous feeling pooled in your throat. You felt something cruel inside you tug at your body. As if you were just a puppet of some supreme being. Taking full control of your mind.  

You felt a pull as your hand moved towards your wand. As curses, even you in your clouded state of mind knew you should never use, teased you from the darkest depths of your mind.  

For a second. A split second. You saw the student’s face fall in a jumble of shock and fear. Then he seemed to immediately compose himself, his own body mirroring yours as he reached for his own wand. No doubt he had no idea just how cursed your thoughts were. How this raging soldier inside of you would stop at nothing to get to Draco.

Any doubts in your mind vanished as you raced to pull out your wand.

Grasping it in front of you.  

Pointing it at the boy.  

Taking another step forward, closing the gap between you and the boy, you found the dark shadow cast over you grow as the boy became illuminated by the torch above him.

The light cast over him and his face became clearer. A new feeling pooled over you. Your hand trembled and your grasp on your wand was weak.  

You didn’t even know his name.

The bitter feeling reigning over you tried to push that aside. The hymn of cruel words demanded that you hurt him.

But instead you stood facing the boy. Heart pounding in your chest and drowning out the cruel words.

Taking a deep breath and desperately holding onto your wand, you opened your mouth to speak.

“Why are you looking for me?” A cruel voice sneered out.

Through your vision that was covered with a thin tearful shroud, you saw a shapeless silhouette, the wicked beast ahead of you. The killer. Without even being able to see his features, a match was ignited inside your chest, a scorching sensation that erupted inside you, filling your whole body with anger. Your heart become a ball of fire at the sight of the man who caused such pain and rage inside you.  

“You murderer!” You accused, the bitterness inside you flaring up as you lost control of your body again. Letting whatever evil being that was within you take over. Brandishing your wand at him. Pointing it towards Draco. You felt the blisters forming on your hand as you clutched your wand with some new found strength.

The figure stepped forwards from the darkness. Joining you under the light of the torch, his face was illuminated. The symphony of spiteful words returned to you as you came face to face with the man you despised. His piercing gaze burning into your soul.

The other Slytherin boy had run away into the darkness. Perhaps to get help or an audience. Or perhaps just looking to escape the battle that would occur.  

Draco Malfoy. You wanted to kill him. You had to kill him. He was the one who caused all this. He had ruined everything. Dumbledore was dead. Because of him.  

“I don’t know what you think but I don’t think you want to make an enemy of me,” His words chastised you. Chuckling to himself, Draco’s amusement only created a sick feeling inside your stomach. His cruel mannerisms etched into your mind. Then he stopped laughing, his eyes piercings yours as he said with a menacing smirk. “Besides, aren’t you a filthy mudblood?”  

With that, any rationality that had lingered in your mind was burnt into a pile of ashes that was swept quickly aside as you succumbed to your scorching rage.  

You barrelled towards him. Giving him no time to respond. His callous hands grabbed onto you. The feeling of his murderous, cold fingers on you seemed to burn your skin at the very touch. You fell with him. Desperately holding onto him to save yourself. His body collapsed to the ground with you following quickly behind him. You found yourself on top of him. Your face inches away from the face of a murderer.

For a second you were both stunned, his grip on you loosened and instead his eyes seemed to probe through every corner of your mind. Regaining your senses, the anger quickly found itself back into your body.

“You murderer!” You spat at him, your spit mixing with the tears that stung your eyes and rained down on him. You thrashed against him as you urged for him to fight back and yet he seemed to have accepted his fate as he kept still beneath you. His cold stare on you sent a chill down your spine. Stopping the fire inside of you in its tracks as you stared back at him. For a second the anger in you faltered, replaced with a momentary confusion as his eyes flickered with something unrecognisable within the Death Eater before you.

Murderer.  

The thought returned to your mind. You were being tricked by him. He wanted you to let your guard down so he could murder you. Dumbledore had let his guard down and now he was dead. Now Hogwarts was controlled by the Death Eaters. Now everything you loved was gone or in danger.  

All because of him.

The bitterness seared every cell of your body. You let the scorching anger control you as your arms continued their merciless onslaught.  

Murderer.

You jumped away from him as you felt his cold hands on yours. Stopping your hands in their path. Jolting you out of your thoughts. You scrambled away from him.  

You weren’t going to let him trick you. You remained on the floor.  

Hunched over like a scared animal trying to protect yourself from the man in front of you. Keeping your distance from him. Your hands now twitching to move and grab your wand.  

Draco moved to kneel and his face came to a rest a few inches from you.

Both of you sat. Staring at each other with intense looks. Your eyes were burning with the bitter contempt that had ravaged you and his eyes returned a cold, blank look that were still bespeckled with emotion you didn’t recognise.

His own face so close to yours, you could see every detail of his face. The way his icy eyes were sunken and weary, adorned by lavender bags that would match the bruises that you caused on his pale skin. His pale skin contrasted with the black shadows that fell around you. Even with the anger you felt, you felt a tug of a new emotion. Pity. He looked empty and you wondered if he had always looked like that or if that was the result of your attack.

A waterfall of tears escaped your eyes. For a moment, the look in his eyes became clearer and the realisation made you want to crumble to the floor.  

He was looking at you with concern.  

Your breath caught at the realisation. His eyes penetrated your thoughts with his look of concern. Your barbaric thoughts battled against the new feelings of guilt that now terrorised your mind. Your grip on your wand loosened. And then you saw it.

The dark match etched onto his arm. It was only a glimpse from where his sleeves had been hastily rolled up. But now your eyes were set upon the reminder.

His eyes followed yours and then widened as you lifted your wand, pointing it towards him.

Inside your mind, the symphony of cruel thoughts rung out. Urging you to take your revenge. In the darkness of the halls, you could see Draco’s eyes as he stared at you.

The concern had left them and instead there was a blank slate, the look of an exhausted man who had accepted his penalty. The light above the two of you, shone down on him, illuminating him and letting you see the man you were about to kill. As if it were some twisted punishment. You sat in the shadows. Avoiding the light to avoid seeing your grip on your wand, the hands of someone who was about to become a killer. The cold air seemed to suffocate you as you tried to steady your breathing but all you could hear was your chest heaving.  

“I didn’t kill him.” His words rang out, cutting through the sound of your breaths.

Your eyebrows fell in confusion though your wand remained pointed accusedly, refusing to let your fear become visible as you willed your hands to remain still.

“What did you say?” You hesitated. Your eyes widened at his words. Mind racing. Was this another lie? The cruel alter ago within you pleaded with you to ignore him, to keep your guard up but the look on his face, the look of a broken man, made you stop.

“I didn’t kill Dumbledore.” Draco’s hand slowly moved towards your wand, making gentle movements as if you were a scared creature.

“Don’t lie to me,” You shoved your wand against his chest, stopping him in his movements, your wand dug against him. Marking his heart with remains of your wage. His breathing remained steady as he took in your frightened form “You’re a killer!”

“I know that’s what everyone thinks. But I didn’t.” He choked out “I couldn’t.”

He watched the fury in you smoulder. His own tearful eyes suddenly flickered with determination as he made a sudden move towards you.

“But I still deserve this.” His hands went to yours. His cold hands grasped yours and thrusted your wand further into his chest. His grip on the wand was strong, his knuckles turning white, breathing too hard and too fast.

You both stared intently into each other's eyes. His blank state had now transformed into a look of desperation, his eyes welling with tears as he silently pleaded with you. You took in the sight of him as he tried to shove down the sobs that threatened to escape him. Your own anger had vanished, the tug of humanity returning, as you stared at the broken man before you. His hands trembled a little as he clasped your hand on your wand.  

You ripped your hands away from his hold and the wand clattered to the floor between you. Mixing with the sounds of the anguished sobs that escaped Draco’s lips. Creating a new symphony that would mark the emotions of the war to come.  

“Please kill me.” He whispered. One final, desperate prayer to you.  

You came here to kill him. Instead you found your arms coming to clasp his body. A feeble attempt to hold him together as he appeared to break down in front of you. You hoped no one would come now as you embraced him. Letting his tears fall like a waterfall down onto the floor, gathering on your wand and soaking your arms as they wrapped around him.  

All bitterness and fury had now vanished and all you felt now was compassion.  

One day you would be made to pick a side and might have to face this boy in battle but now you would let your humanity tug at you.

Holding him in your arms as he continued to cry. The murderer.

Or maybe just a broken man.  

A boy who was the victim of a war.  

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 39)

This part was typed mostly on mobile. Sorry for any typos.

She remembers the first time she had seen snow. The feeling...it was bizarre. If she were to be completely honest, she would best compare it to the sensation of her worst days--the days when her mind is slipping and everything feels off and nothing feels real. But instead of fear, she feels awe. Instead of dread, she feels an almost childlike sense of delight.

And perhaps, in some sense, she is a child again; she has something new to discover. Something curious and strange.

"Hajime,look." She points out the window. "It's everywhere." And perhaps it is a silly thing to ask but she inquires anyhow, "how do we walk through it?"

"Like you walk anywhere else?" He quirks a brow.

"But in the Water Tribes...I've heard that there is special equipment used to navigate the snow."

He laughs, "the snow isn't that deep here!" He opens the door and gestures for her to exit.

"It's cold." She complains. Even under her winter wools, she finds herself shivering. And here Atsu goes, dashing out into the winter with no coat at all.

"Git back in here!" Hajime calls. "I tol' you last year 'bout going outside without a coat!"

Atsu comes to a halt, the magic of the morning coming to an abrupt pause with him. " But dad!"

"You need to help Rikka get dressed, she never had to wear a winter clothes before."

This seems to allure the boy and with a wide and gleeful grin he darts back into the house. "Hurry up and put your coat and gloves on, Rikka! We have to build snow people and throw balls of snow at each other and…" he chucks a coat and a pair of gloves at her--Hajime's she assumes based upon the size of them.

Azula stuffs her fingers into the gloves. Only one layer doesn't seem sufficient but another layer or two seems to aggravatingly restrict her finger movements and if she is going to destroy Hajime and Atsu at this snowball war, she is going to need a full range of movement from her fingers.

She steps out into the snow, she hears it sift beneath her weight. So far everything is going accordingly, there is no ice to land her on the ground.she deduces that, in most places, the snow only reaches up to her ankles which is, though an inconvenience, manageable enough. But she can't imagine that running from enemy fire will be as easy. She supposes that if she needs a speedy getaway she can just melt some of the snow and listen to Atsu screech about her cheating. Perhaps she would feel more guilty over it if Atsu weren't a merciless little brute. He does not wait for her to assemble her protective mound of snow before bombarding her with an onslaught of tightly packed snow.

"Gotcha!" He whoops with each hit that she fails to evade. It would seem that while she was assessing her surroundings he hand been stockpiling an extensive artillery.

"Geez, Atsu, show mercy, this is her first snowball fight." Hajime chuckles from his spot on the porch.

It is a nice thought but Atsu, the feral beast, knows nothing of mercy. He tosses snowball after snowball. She manages to create only one but before she can throw it, Atsu fires another shot. And this one sails directly down the front of her shirt. She feels it slide from her chest to her belly leaving her with a full body shudder as itself away. She had dropped her snowball. Never in her life has she felt anything quite like it; uncomfortable and somewhat biting but I'm a way that wasn't exactly painful.

She tosses a pathetically pleading glance to Hajime who throws his head back in a howling laugh. "Alright, alright." He gets to his feet and steps out into the battlefield.

"Uh oh…" Atsu mumbles, he is now we'll aware that he should have built himself a snow fortress. Azula gives him a smug smile as she lifts a new snowball.

"Uh oh." He repeats as her very second snowball sails right into his face.

Maybe she should feel guilty over it but he isn't crying and he brushes it right off. And besides, she is certain that he was aiming for her face the whole time anyways, he simply didn't have the arm strength to land any hits higher than chest level.

And by the end of the hour she is almost embarrassed by how satisfied she feels to have beaten a child at a children's game. Any tickles of shame are washed away by Atsus delightful giggles. His enthusiastic, "wait until Caihong and Kim get here! We'll kick yer butts until you don't have butts no more!"

People have bestowed upon her many threats. But none have been quite like that.

That day she learns that Atsu is very much a little shit and that, likely, she will never truly shake her competitive nature.

.oOo.

She has been to plenty of awkward dinners but the silence of this one is so thick that it is dizzying. She can’t help but notice the way that Sokka twiddles his thumbs and looks in every direction but his father’s and Katara’s. It occurs to her that he is ashamed of her. Is embarrassed to be seen with her. She supposes that it is a good thing that the snow storm has picked up too strongly to go for a stroll through the village. She can only imagine what sort of looks she will get from everyone else. A firebender...the princess among people who the Fire Nation has displaced and nearly destroyed. She is everything that they detest and she supposes that Sokka has every right to be embarrassed by that. Embarrassed in the same way that she had been to parade him around the Fire Nation at first.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, dad?”

The man gives something between a hum and a sigh, “I’m trying to figure out what to say.” Hakoda looks at her. His face isn’t as steely with stubbornness as Katara’s.

Azula stares at her palms. She should take her mittens off. But any little motion will draw too much attention. Not that Katara's resentful gaze has left her since she got to the table. She wants to have a taste of her seaweed stew but she is already mildly nauseous with nervousness and the scent of the stew doesn't exactly kindle her appetite.

"Just talk to her for a bit, dad, you'll like her." Sokka promises.

The flutters in her tummy intensify that much more. She wishes that he wouldn't make promises that even he isn't certain of.

"She likes history and strategizing just like you do and…"

"And she used it to foil our invasion and get him sent to the Boiling Rock." Katara folds her arms across her chest.

Azula cringes to herself, truth be told, she had forgotten about that. Comparatively speaking, it seemed much less profound than some of her other misdeeds.

"Yeah well she's done a lot of changing since then." Sokka insists. “See, she even has the redemption haircut!”

“The what?” Azula finally speaks up.

“Yeah, Zuko said he cut his hair before joining us and now look at him, he’s happy--but in a grumpy old man sort of way, he’s a good friend, and he’s got long flowing tresses.”

Azula rolls her eyes. She isn’t sure if she wants to slug the man to death right in front of his father and sister or if she finds his recant amusing. She supposes that it would ruin her chances to make amends of she murdered Sokka now. “It wasn’t a redemption haircut I had matted hair and, maybe, lice.” Ji-Zhang had only mentioned it being matted. She supposes if she had lice that they would have shaved…

“Azula.” Sokka manages to cut through her comfort musings. Granted her musings weren’t at all pleasant but her inner monologue very much beats the external alternative.

She realizes that Hakoda has extended his hand. It is far less formal than a bow but she will take what she can get. He gives her hand a shake. “I’m Hakoda.”

“Sokka told me that, already. And he has already told you my name.”

Sokka flushes, “you’re supposed to introduce yourselves to each other.” And then he turns to his father, “she’s still working on the whole having a normal conversation thing. It runs in the family.”

“I can have a normal conversation just fine.” She folds her arms and holds her head high.

“Well it’s...interesting to formally meet you, Azula.”

“Dad!” Katara says sharply. “She’s not a part of this family. I don’t care how much Sokka likes her.”

“Come on Katara.”

“Don’t ‘come on Katara’ me! You’re the one trying to welcome her into the Water Tribe.”

“I get it, this is for the whole Jet thing isn’t it.”

This time Katara blushes.

“Who is Jet?” Azula furrows her brows.

“Yes, who is Jet?” Hakoda agrees.

“You don’t know about Jet?” Sokka asks at the same time as Katara says, “you weren’t supposed to tell him about Jet!”

“Jet’s just some jerk that flooded a whole village full of kids. To drive out some Fire Nation soldiers.”

“Gaipan?”

“Yeah.” Sokka nods. “You know about that.”

Azula returns the nod. “We lost a few soldiers there. There were noble men and women.” She pauses. “Stubborn too. They might have been alright if they fled with the rest of the village but…”

“Firebenders and their pride.” Hakoda clicks his tongue.

She wants to call the man on his generalization but frankly she hasn’t met a firebender yet who didn’t value pride. And maybe that is why it is so hard for her to apologize to Katara and Hakoda. Though she isn’t certain that she particularly needs to apologize to Hakoda--he had led an invasion to defeat her father. He had encroached on her land. It was her duty to see those plans foiled. Though pointing that out probably won’t serve her too well.

“Can you give her a chance, Katara? I gave Jet a chance.”

“No you didn’t. You were protesting and whining the whole time.”

“And I ended up being right.”

“So will I.” With those three words, she storms out into the snow.

“That went flawlessly.” Azula grumbles.

“Just give her some time, she’ll come around when she realizes that you’re actually kind of a really sweet person.”

“I will set everything you love on fire…”

“You just like to pretend that you aren’t.” And to Hakoda he mutters, “It’s part of the firebender pride thing. You can’t let anyone know that you’re nice.” He slings an arm over her shoulder and pulls her in closer.

Azula sighs, it is going to be a long, long vacation or whatever in the spirits’ name she could call this.