#so it stands out to me here that the Hulk wouldn’t express any sympathy towards someone who he believes is in the exact same position as him

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #255

[hunterartemis]

Media Bias (Avengers X Alien!Reader)

It was a request from anonymous reader and since I have limited experience with tagging, I am going to quote the person’s request here:

“ Hi can you please do Avengers x reader where the reader is like Starfire from og teen titans (but the reader is green and the blasts are blue) and the Avengers go on a talk show and the host is being very mean to her. Thanks”

So, dear anonymous. I hope you enjoy!“

Words: a whopping 4100

Y/n, open the door” I heard Sam thudding away on my door as I buried myself in the layers of blanket and put the air condition humid enough to cause a mini monsoon.

“Go away Wilson and leave me alone--” I bellowed on top of my voice.

“Y/n it’s been more than 7 hrs, you got to come out... whatever happened in the morning you gotta let it go--”

“I don’t wanna let it go... I am a national embarrassment--”

You must be thinking, what is the situation you’ve been dragged into. Let me pause there and rewind 17 hours back to give you a complete understanding which lead to this complete mess.

People think our story ended and sealed with Thanos never got to see what we go through in the New York penthouse. With the ongoing Pandemic on board, people are desperate to see us even more, as if it is the new Thanos and we are to defeat it. There is no greater sense of helplessness than playing the puppet of courage without doing anything. So whoever wrote that “after the defeat of big bad, the heroes rejoice” was a big idiot.

And thus, I found myself awake after hours, sitting alongside the broad glass panel that showed the completely stopped-in-time, shining in the dark cityscape of once bustling New York. A fleeting sense of desolation plagued me as I remember my own world in the verge of extinction. My breath almost stopped in the great worry of my fellow living being in this planet; the one who saved me from destitution--

 “y/n, is that you?”A calm and concerned paternal voice broke the train of my thought. I sharply looked behind my shoulder to see a disheveled figure of man standing in the dark. By the tousled curls and the slouched hem of the sweatpants, I knew was Bruce.

“Urh, you startled me!” I said with a dismissive voice. I felt almost embarrassed to realize what I was thinking moments ago. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.

“It’s you who startled me y/n, what are you doing up so late?” Bruce said with a groggy voice rubbing his eyes rather irritatingly. “We have an important event to attend tomorrow first thing in the morning” he slowly moved towards from the shadowy part of the room to the path of dimmed light from the glass panel and spared a long glance at my face. The way he looked at me sometimes irritated me, because it was an inalienable fact that he fell into the same category of humans who express an unhealthy obsession with my kind: a scientist.

“It’s not like I enjoy staying up like you Lowly Human...I am as stressed for tomorrow as you are!” I tore my face from his ken to express my displeasure. In reply, he sighed disappointedly, which sounded patronizing in my already agitated mind.

“I wish you’d stop insulting my specie whenever you get upset...” he gently put his hand in my shoulder, but soon he withdrew and stepped back. “And what is that god-awful smell?”

Any female whether she is human or not is very sensitive to criticism, especially about how she appears, thus Bruce’s comment was not only offensive but hurtful as well. I could not restrain my anger and annoyance anymore, and I stood up sharply to face him “I just happen to wet myself in the rain yesterday at my detour downtown and it turns out it has too much sulphuric acid and it is peeling my skin away... right before when I am about to go up close on television.”  My hand subconsciously moved up to my cheek, where flakes were forming in my otherwise jade smooth skin. “And you are telling me to stop insulting your specie... I will when you unicellular cretins will stop ruining your own environment—“ I folded my arms defensively, gazing away from Bruce’s face “--as if I don’t get ridiculed enough for my chrorophyllic skintone, and now I am shedding like a common reptile.”

“Alright alright I am sorry...” Bruce threw up his arms defensively, and his small paces back and forth showed his discomfort more than anything, “do you want something for your skin, CeraVe or something? I can fetch you some ice if you want?”

His apologetic gesture made my whole effort defeated; but my pride disrupted me from being apologetic “Forget it... as if those human manures would work on my skin—“ I heaved a sigh and looked at him again “must we do the thing? I mean I am not the only alien that set foot on earth in this decade, why must I be walked around like a showdog in front of all the people?”

For some moments Bruce did not answer me. I almost thought he was ignoring me, but then I realised that he must be contemplating on every word he wanted to say and every word that was running through his brilliant mind. Out of anyone in the team, Bruce was the visual hole, the less than heroic material: even with the Hulk. And for this, the society made sure that he would be self conscious for the rest of his life for his other identity. My annoyance almost melted to sympathy when I heard him speak in a rather frustrated voice.

“Y/N, I know that you are stressed about this and frankly I hate this stuff too, but this is very important for the people: for your people as well as ours. Not all things that come from the space are benign and people need reassurance that you are not hostile. I hate this too, but it is for the greater good!”

“Greater good, greater good... it is always for the greater good!”  The same old daily whining of lofty agenda made me sick “I am sick and tired of these Brucie, I don’t want to do this anymore... I am tired about people asking me weird questions and cretins posing as scientists trying to push probes on me the first chances they get-- I wish I could just disappear with the portal that brought me in this cursed place!“

Bruce came closer and grabbed my shoulders gently “Don’t say that y/n... otherwise we wouldn’t have the means to counterattack all those aliens—“ my silence might have given him the cue that he wasn’t doing a very good job at convincing. His wavering eyes fixed on my face once again as he spoke “okay, here is a deal: how about it is the last time you appear in public, hm? Once you satisfy them that you are part of the team, I swear people will leave you alone... they left the Hulk alone too once they understood that he is one of the good guys!”

“No but...“

“No ifs and buts... go, and have some sleep. Let me look in the lab if we have some squalanes and peptide solutions lying around—“ he said with a paternal affection and disappeared into the dark passage which lead to his room

“Thanks Brucie you are the best—“

I couldn’t help but to smile a little. Humans!

...

“This is a bad idea I am telling you--“ I told Bruce with an hushed tone as the makeup artist went on with a puff on my face for the millionth times. The rest of my team was behind me, getting the same attentions to their dismay. I could tell Bucky was downright uncomfortable as his makeup artist had a hard time getting not distracted by his bionic arm; and Wanda was downright glaring at the man who kept flicking the brush on her nose.

“relax y/n, you are smart and you are friendly, you are going to ace this and trust me people are going to love you--“ Bruce said with gritted teeth to make sure no one could tell what he was saying. He almost flinched as some of the powder made into his nose and the makeup artist followed him up with a q-tip.

“My face is itchy...“ I whispered again, trying not to gouge my face out with my nails as the powder sat on the flaky part of the cheek. If this wasn’t a studio I would have scratched my face like a lunatic and ended up as someone who was attacked by a bear in the mountains. And I was glad that I was standing beside Bruce who knew how not to go overboard with the things. Clint would have brushed them off, Wanda and Bucky would have panicked, and Sam’s gestures no matter how genuine would have made me laugh.

“Wanda already told the makeup artist to spray you with Squalane, your face isn’t half as bad as it were yesterday night“ Bruce then went on politely gesturing the makeup artist to spray the stuff Bruce brought from the lab in a clear bottle, and the look on the Makeup Artist’s face was between annoyance and bursting into tears.

“Brucie...“ “I don’t wanna mess it up--“ I said nervously as we walked into the couch and settled with the others.

“Trust me you won’t... “ Bruce graciously consoled me.

The cameraman cued and we were all gestured to look into the main camera as the lights in front of us adjusted accordingly. Within all hustle and bustle, the host walked in like a royalty, and by the looks of his face and those following him with makeup and refreshment, he had a really bad morning.

“We will go on air in 3, 2 and 1”

“Good Morning America, this is your host Justin Fallon and welcome to another episode of The Early Show. Today we have with us some really special guests. You might know them from News, the murals, the comics and the Merchs please welcome our own global superheroes: The Avengers. Welcome to our show” the host said with an uncomfortable friendliness and turned towards us.

"Thanks for having us with you" Sam answered graciously, with a little awkwardness. I could understand why; it was always Tony, Steve and Natasha who spoke in public. After such a terrible loss, he is struggling to fill up their shoes for the sake of our public image. He had been wrapped up into a pretty bad controversy recently for succeeding as Captain America and it had a pretty bad toll on him—to the point his speech kind of went from cheerful to composed in an unnatural way.

 "It’s been way too long since our morning couch looked so colorful and it surely brightens up the day.” The host said with an obligatory politeness. Although the term was innocent enough but it seemed not so—I instantly froze up and million things started flying inside my head: was I looking good enough, is my patches showing under the layers of power and squalane. Turns out it was not me alone. From the corner of my eye I could sense the tension behind me from Clint and Bucky and I know it was different than mine. The host must have wanted the old team, and looked like he was stuck with the mediocre leftovers.

“Thank you...“ Sam replied.

“So here you guys are after averting the big wipeout crisis, in the quiet and chilling, so how does it feel to be in the pensive from being hyperactive all the time?“

“Well, at first it did feel kind of boring and lack luster, but slowly we are adjusting to it. With the ongoing Pandemic crisis I think we just have to adjust to the situation. In a way, I think we are all helping each other by staying inside and recuperating.” Sam answered diplomatically.

“That’s so nice” the interviewer said quite curtly and then changing the topic he sharply turned to Doctor Banner “I know of all you people Dr. Banner will find this Lockdown Leisure slightly more comforting, isn’t that so Doctor Banner?”

Wait, what was that? Was that even normal? Sam was sitting in the front and after him Bucky, then Wanda and then Bruce. Should not he come gradually? Breathe... maybe I am reading too much into this. Keep a friendly face, don’t think too much... the entire nation is watching... this is the one time I have to do things right! It’s for me, my team who housed me and my people.

I had to give props to Bruce for managing things calmly despite his claims about public speaking. He politely replied “Well theoretically it should be but it’s not like causes of anger cannot exist within the so called peaceful environment if you think about it, but I am glad you showed your concern” and like a pro, reached out to the glass in front of him to sip some water—like some real celebs in talk shows.

“Isn’t that true! So Solaris, how does it feel to be surrounded by the icons of the earth?”

I wasn’t really ready for the sudden attention. For a second I blanked out completely and gaped my mouth like a complete idiot. My stupefied face must have been quite prominent because the host tried to laugh it off lightly to divert the attention. I am still wrapping my head around the fact how some humans work so beautifully under so much attention—If I could choose between blasting off alien armies and speaking in talk shows, I will take the aliens instead.

“I..I--It’s quite fun... there is never a dull moment with them--“ I manage to utter, and thankfully it wasn’t a gurgling sound from a deep abyss.

“The thing is, being the most newest member, you sort of have a mystery around you, the kind of a Blue Comet sort--“

“Oh thank you— “ great going me, like a real talk show celeb—keep it up!

��So why don’t we break that down... Solaris, is that true that you came from a whole another galaxy which is not Milky Way?” the Talk show host asked, reading from a small piece of card.

Finally, something I can talk about all day: stars, planets and galaxy. I will have to slay this, I chanted inside and replied after drawing a breath “Yes that’s true. I am from Planet Auriga from Pleiades system. Our Sun is Alcyone, the second brightest star right after Aldebaran. You people call our system Taurus Constellation--” 

“--so much astrophysics, take notes kids they might ask you at the NASA interview.“ the talk show host interrupted. It annoyed me greatly because I could finish the words I worked so hard to speak confidently. So that’s how Bruce must feel all the time when people interrupted him when he explains things. However the host went on as if nothing happened “For a near human creature in this planet, do you identify more with the Professor X’s troop or with the Avengers?”

Near human creature? My race is literally the most Superior in all of galaxy.

“I don’t really understand what you mean...” I said as politely as I could manage.

“I mean isn’t it hard to fit in when you are the only alien in the group--“

The flippant remark was rude and I tried not to wrap my head around it. I recalled Bruce’s words to keep cool and maintain a neutral face replied : “I mean I am not the only one, Thor is also not of the earth and he is a darling to be around. Alien or not I think I have learned a lot about myself and the ways of earth by spending time with this wonderful people?“

I could hear the audience clapping and cheering with my reply. A surge of pride swept across my chest and I smiled slightly at the audience.

“How sweet--“ the host said, keeping with the cheerful mood “as the outer world people are coming into the planets, we think a lot of things are shifting, do you find it hard to cope into the earth from where you come from--“

Finally, a thoughtful question, I made a solid eye contact with the host and replied “No, the atmosphere is pretty much the same in Auriga, but I think humans can do a lot better taking care of the environment. I know for a fact that millions of planets and their lifeforms were extinct because of excesses I see on earth.”

The thoughtfulness of the host was only for so long “The girl’s been around... if you know what I mean—“ he commented with a little wink, and from the audience’s laugh I knew he didn’t mean something polite or mildly positive. After the laughter subsided, he turned again to me “I dig the midnight blue hair... it is so contradictory and yet it works“ he complimented “because you know scale and hair are not something we see very often in our planet--“ 

Excuse me, what was that supposed to mean?

“--so tell me are the lapis cascades all natural? I mean they are not dyed at all?”

“No they are not... the special keratin bond that reflect the blue pigment of the natural light but they are actually transparent—“ I added objectively.

“So that means in the right lighting you don’t need to mow the bush—“ the host said with a curved smile on his lips, and the audience went on laughing in the same manner they did moments ago.

Even under the blowing airconditioner, I started t feel really warm around my neck “I really don’t know what you mean; you are making any sense at all! Do you guys need special light to mow the bush, do you do in the solstices or during the eclipses—“  this time I didn’t hide the fact that I was annoyed.

“--she is really really funny you guys--“ the host again smiled and acted like I was a stone wall and my reaction didn’t register in his mind at all. “So you are saying you don’t mow your bush at all?“

“I live in a New York Penthouse, there is no bush--“ honestly if this wasn’t a dumb talk show, I would have taught this impudent human a lesson.

The host looked a little uncomfortable as our eye contact lasted for several seconds. He cleared his throat and went on “Okay you guys, she just clarified that there is no bush, so let’s move on to your...your look... I am so fascinated by it, it’s so reptile chic--“

What’s your fascination with cold blooded animals? Are you asking to die like one?

“Um, thanks...?!”

“So how do you manage to maintain this--“

That was honestly the last straw. This host is impolite and rude and he leeches off the discomfort of his talk show host. When this realisation hit, all my self-control and self preservation went out of the window. The vacuum was replaced by the sheer annoyance towards the host who deliberately mistreated us since the beginning.

“Do you think that’s how I live, maintaining my skin and mowing the bush--“ my pitch rose from my previous composed tone “I mean what kind of questions are these?“

The host was still wearing his phony smile on his face, but I could see the colour slightly draining off his face “No I was just asking, because the audience wants to know--“

“I think the audience is smart enough to understand that they cannot get the green skin on natural blue hair, so can you move on to a more sensible question?“ I answered heatedly and defensively at the same time, and as I spoke I felt the aura of tension shifting from discomfort to sheer panic.

“Y/n... don’t do this--” I heard Bucky whisper very faintly from above.

“Solaris, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t always get a green-skin hottie on the morning couch, don’t be offended!” he said while he gestured covertly to cut the camera on the other side. I have to give this man an applause , I could tell he had busted all his courage but he kept the face of nonchalance too good to be true—no wonder he sat on this chair for so long.

“What’s your obsession with the skin colour?—“ I said heatedly as I stood up from my seat “Don’t you dare cut the camera... don’t you dare! Do you think you humans are the epitome of beauty from which point everyone in the galaxy should confirm? I am sick of this... Everyone, I am so sorry for your wasted time but no more of this!”

“Solaris--“ this time it was Sam’s voice that implored me from the sides. For a split second I felt bad for him, because as Captain America, he would have to take the heat from the public. But I was at the point of no return. If I back out now, I would be called a pushover and I would have to endure that image for the rest of my life in the earth.

“You know what, as you are so obsessed with my looks, I would love to show you another thing of mine that is blue--”

Blast

So long story short, Solaris goes to a morning talk show, Solaris encounters a rude host and Solaris blasts him with her Blue Sun Beam. Biggest disaster ever!

The thudding outside the door would not stop, and honestly their over attention was getting on my nerves “honestly, why don’t you go away... what are you, my royal nanny?”

“Very funny Solaris... now come out and get some food--” this time it was Bucky who spoke. Although he was the shortest to reply, but it made me well up. He had the shittiest history amongst all of us: hunted, betrayed, manipulated and now sidelined—how can I see my problems bigger than him.

 “How can I... I ruined everything, all the reputation you built throughout the year, I blew it up within 3 minutes, how can I show my face to you guys! I was supposed to be the superior being--“

A moment of silence followed. But then the old familiar calm voice spoke from the other side

“y/n... It’s not about superior or inferior, you were just very very honest with your feeling! sometimes it’s good for the public, sometimes it is not. I mean look at me--I have struggling with my anger all my life and god knows the stuff I have wrecked in Hulk state. It’s okay to make a mistake... no one blames you!”

“Ha ha right...“ I replied sarcastically, feeling mad about how well Bruce understood my situation.

“Honestly, the way you acted today... Tony would have been proud!”

I could not hold myself anymore. All the feeling that has been plaguing me until now: embarrassment, guilt, confusion, sadness... all came down like a thundering rain with that one statement. I rushed and slammed the door open and jumped on Bruce to embrace him into a tight hug. At first I could tell Bruce was taken aback, but soon his firm arms snaked under my back to hold me tightly.

“I am so sorry... I ruined you all--“ I hid my face in Bruce’s shoulder. Suddenly I felt a gentle pat on my back, I straightened up and looked, it was Sam. His awkward cautionary expression was gone and he looked cherry as the old days “As Captain America, I cannot condone your behaviour, but as Sam... well, that jerk deserved it--“ he reached for his pocket and took out his cellphone “and hundred thousand people in New York agree with you“

I looked at him with a curious expression as he gave me his phone. When I looked at it, it was a tabloid video that had the clip of me blasting the host and it had—

“Stars in galaxies!... 100K likes?” I exclaimed

“And look down, there are comments too--” Bucky scrolled down from behind my shoulder to descend to the white space.

That jerk deserves it, he was literally harassing her...You go Solaris #MeToo

Solaris is so cool, I wish I was as cool as her.

Ugh, I hate that morning show host, if I was in her place I would have thrown him off the stark tower, #SunQueen

Racists never change, and We stan our color positive hero #SolarisRocks

Humans...

...

Okay, that took a lot of time because at first I didn’t know how to work on the request, then I had to go back and forth and rewrite most of it two times because I wasn’t convinced it was good. So I sincerely hope it’s good because I am freaked out as hell.

I also gave reader a name because she is inspired by an alien character in TeenTitans called “Starfire”. So I call her Solaris, and was constantly reminded of Solar of Mamamoo (TMI)

I don’t hate on Fallon, I just used his name because it is recognisable by American public and I also had to see a lot of Jimmy Fallon’s show to write about the Talk Show plot. I was also greatly inspired by Naomi Campbell, RDJ and Nicki Minaj’s interviews.

[beccarooni]

A helping hand

Whumptober 2019 submission! Pairing = Thor & Hulk, can be read as pre-slash. Not my best but I haven’t written anything in a while so I thought this would be a good excuse for me to get back on the bandwagon! 

Sakaar was a place Hulk had grown to like. A begrudging sort of like, really. There were some parts of it that were genuine - like angry girl. Angry girl was probably his favourite thing about Sakaar. He also liked the way the crowds smiled at him, in a strange sort of way. It wasn’t as good as when angry girl smiled at him - like she was genuinely happy to see him. No, these people, the crowds, they were just happy to see something get smashed. By Hulk or whoever. Still, it was better than earth. Better than anger and hate and fear. 

The parties on Sakaar he was forced to attend as champion, however…

Hulk would never admit it out loud, but he hated those parties. Everything was loud, everything was bright, and when angry girl wasn’t there it was just him, standing in the center of a room, letting people clamber over him and ask for his photograph. He didn’t like that. He liked naps, play fights, and this strange kind of Sakaarian soup that made his tongue burn. This had none of those. But, angry girl liked them, and so he tried his best to like them too.

Luckily for him, Thor seemed to hate this as much as he did. It was kind of funny, weirdly - seeing the God’s tiny features screw themselves up in a glare at whoever decided they wanted to look at the new ‘lord of thunder’. His lightning may have been capped by the device in his neck, but his stormy glare was decidedly not. 

People steered clear of him. And since the only person Thor knew there was Hulk, people steered clear of him, too. 

This was probably the best party he’d had in ages. 

“This is ridiculous.” Thor shook his head, leaning heavily against the brightly-patterned counter, almost having to yell over the volume of the music that pounded out from the speakers. 

“He’s not even that good.”

Hulk turned to glance at where Thor had decided to fix his death-glare, watching as the Grandmaster’s hands flew over a device that seemed to be causing the sounds he was currently being subjected to. 

“Thor not like music?”

“I like music. I just prefer it when it doesn’t make me want to cut off my own ears, that’s all.” Thor sighed, standing up from his stool to get closer to Hulk’s ear. 

“When can we go?”

“Soon.” Hulk was honestly glad that Thor was here. He’d never admit it, but being at these things alone...it was bad. Not scary, of course. Hulk didn’t get scared of anything. The people here knew he could crush them with his pinkie finger, if he so desired. That was why they liked him. 

But the loud noises, the bright lights - it all seemed eerily similar to a part of his life he’d rather forget. The part where flashes meant bullets and noises meant soldiers. The one part he and Banner could both agree was one of the worst things they’d lived through. 

Two drinks were abruptly shoved onto the table in front of them by a small robotic figure, as the Grandmaster’s voice echoed from seemingly every corner of the room. 

“A toast, for the grand champion!” 

The room erupted in cheers that hurt Hulk’s ears, the floor shaking with stomping and the air filled with the noise of hands, finds, and other assorted appendages clapping. Hulk bared his teeth in what he hoped was closer to a grin than a grimace, and tried his level best to sit through it all without breaking something. 

He met Thor’s eyes, and felt something stir in his chest when his face seemed to crease in sympathy. 

“Come on.” Thor’s hand tapped lightly against his arm, and he raised his own glass towards him. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

Hulk grunted his agreement, and roughly clanked his glass against Thor’s, throwing the foul-tasting liquid down his throat. 

Maybe in the 2 years he’d been here he’d gotten used to the drink. Or maybe Thor was just really that puny, because almost the second the tiny god had taken a drink he was doubled over with coughs, letting the glass drop from his hand to the floor below him. 

“By the Norns.” Thor managed between gasps, forcing himself upright and seeming to immediately regret it, judging by the way his hands immediately flew out to steady himself against Hulk’s arm. “What was that?” 

Hulk sniffed the glass, shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t really know what anything was, here. People had told him what he needed to know, and rarely did that coincide with what he wanted to know. He knew the names of the weapons that lined the walls of the training area. He knew how to greet the grandmaster. But outside of that, there really wasn’t much people had deemed him worthy to know. 

The lights shone bright again, as the music increased in it’s tempo. More people began to pour in from the doors, and by now, Hulk knew it was time to go. 

“Come on, Blondie.” 

Hulk brought one huge hand to Thor’s back, trying to both somehow guide him away from the bar and to ease the fit of coughing that somehow still hadn’t subsided. He’d expected Thor to flinch away, to bat at his hand and proclaim himself unneeding of help. So it came as kind of a shock when Thor actually leant into it, clumsy footsteps following where Hulk was directing with an ease that was quite honestly a little frightening. 

It was with a sudden surge of overprotectiveness when he steered Thor towards the doorway, clamping his hand over the demigods shoulders as he pushed his way through the crowd. 

“Home, now.” 

***

Thor couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, here. He’d always been the more unobservant one of the family, at least, that had been Odin’s proclamation. Loki was the clever one, the smart one, the one who read the books and studied the magic and figured out the problem. Thor was the warrior, and up until a few years ago he’d been fine with that. The likes of Stark and Banner were not the likes of him, and that was okay. 

He supposed Stark and Banner would’ve had the common sense not to take a drink from a stranger, on a planet he didn’t know, filled with people he didn’t trust. They wouldn’t have landed themselves into this mess, staggering down an empty hallway with an overly-concerned Hulk shadowing his every move. 

“M’fine, Hulk. I just need to…” Thor found himself slowing down before he even really noticed that it was happening, until he came to an abrupt stop, planting his hand on the wall. 

He didn’t know what exactly it was that he needed to do. It would’ve been a lot easier to identify if the walls just stopped moving. 

Stupid trash planet and it’s stupid moving walls. 

He hated Sakaar. God, he hated it. They’d even found a way to ruin corridors, lining it with lights that shone just a little too brightly and floors that seemed to shift under his feet. 

Thor ran a hand roughly down his face, screwing his eyes tightly shut against the blurring colours and the sudden intensity of the air around him. 

He felt awful. He felt tired. His legs began to falter beneath him until he was sliding down the wall, blood rushing past his ears in a roar that was louder than any dragon Muspellheim could throw at him. 

“Blondie?” 

Hulk’s voice was a low grumble against his ear, and he could feel the heat from his hand where it hovered above his shoulder, waiting and wanting to help but unsure if he should. 

Which was ridiculous. Why would Thor need help? He wasn’t some fragile princess who swooned at the tiniest sip of one drink. He was Thor, Lord of- wait, no, God of Thunder. He was the God of Thunder and he lived on Asgard and he was fine. 

He was fine, wasn’t he? 

Sure, maybe his head was pounding. Maybe his vision was starting to fail him, black spots darting across his vision that only seemed to be getting bigger. Maybe he could feel his body begin to ignore his brains sluggish messages that something was wrong, slouching further into the wall, chasing the coldness of the metal tiles against his skin that felt much too warm now. 

“Blondie!” Hulk wasn’t grumbling anymore. This was a shout, panicked, as Thor hit the ground with a dull thud. 

He could barely feel it as Hulk shook his shoulder, trying frantically to get some response out of him. He barely saw Hulk’s expression, wide eyed and wild when Thor didn’t reply to any of his rousing. He didn’t hear any of the pleas, or the questions. 

But, really. He was fine. 

***

Hulk paced the floors of his room, watching where Thor had slipped into a fitful sleep on the bed. 

He didn’t want to take his eyes off him. Not even for a moment. Not when he looked so fragile, small, and it suddenly wasn’t funny anymore that Thor had fallen over. It certainly hadn’t been funny when Thor had started convulsing, rivets of lightning flashing under his skin that left painful looking marks etched onto the demigods body. It wasn’t funny that Hulk had had to carry him back to the room himself, listening to every muffled sound of pain that was cried into his shoulder. It wasn’t funny seeing Thor claw at his throat, writhing with pain that Hulk didn’t know how to fix. 

Hulk trudged his way back over to the bed, resting the back of his hand against Thor’s forehead. It gave him a faint bite of static, blue light briefly glimmering over his palm before he drew it back with a frown. 

Thor was still too warm, too restless for Hulk to be able to sleep. He didn’t know much about medicine, but if puny Banner could do it? Well, it was almost a point of principle at this stage. Hulk could take care of Thor just as well as puny Banner could, maybe even better. It couldn’t be that hard. 

A small whimper reached his ears, and he turned to see Thor’s bright blue eyes gazing up at him. 

Wait, no, not at him. Thor was staring past him, with eyes that were too bright to be rid of fever, and too disfocused to be fully conscious. 

But it was something. 

“Hulk?” Thor croaked, eyes slipping back shut momentarily. “Where are we?”

“Bedroom. Thor safe, don’t worry.” 

Thor grunted, twisting onto his side, burrowing further under the blankets with a small sniffle that made Hulk’s heart clench. 

His fingers gripped the blankets tightly, as a low groan emerged from his throat.

“Hurts.”

“Thor sick.” Hulk moved to sit by the side of the bed, raising one finger to push a stray lock of hair out of Thor’s eyes. “But Hulk take care of it.”

Thor seemed happy with that answer, or at least too out of it to protest. When his eyes opened again, it was with a tad more clarity than last time, actually managing to find Hulk’s face and hold his gaze for a time. 

Hulk was getting a little uncomfortable with the way Thor was staring at him, so he cleared his throat and got to his feet with an excuse to break away from whatever that was. His hands wrapped around an oversized pitcher that rested next to the bed, and he gingerly sniffed at the liquid inside. 

“Thor want water?”

“Sure.” 

Thor made an attempt to sit up, but froze midway, and sank heavily back down onto the pillows. 

He sighed, looking more annoyed with himself than anything else, muttering something viciously in Asgardian before he seemed to realise he was forgetting something. 

“Thank you, Hulk. I’m...honestly I’m not sure what happened.”

“Blondie not worry about it.” Hulk didn’t really know how else to go about offering someone water. At least, not like this. He’d really hoped that by this point Thor would be able to handle it himself, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon. 

With a small grumble to let Thor know that Hulk wasn’t enjoying this very much either, he knelt down by the side of the bed. Carefully, he cradled Thor’s head in his hand, tilting the pitcher up to a point where he could drink safely. 

“I’m sorry.” Thor mumbled as Hulk laid him back down against the pillow, face flushing red with something that was decidedly not a fever. 

“S’fine.” Thor looked like he wanted to say something else, but the effort it had taken to maintain even that small amount of consciousness had clearly run its course, and within a few moments Hulk was left alone again. 

When the next day dawned, neither of them would speak of this. There was some awkward stumbling around it, but the two eventually resolved that it would be better if they just forgot about the entire thing. 

Hulk would’ve been comfortable never to mention it again. To bury it under a pile of memories and let it drift off into wherever memories went. But Thor wasn’t so eager to please. He kept thanking him for it, to an almost awkward degree. 

But, later, when Thor trusted Hulk to help save Asgard, he did so without hesitation. 

And Hulk quite liked the feeling of being trusted.

[thatgirlkei]

Bombs and Babies and Hulk?! Oh My!

“Don’t make me gut you, Clint. Leave Bruce alone,” Laura Barton threatened her husband with a smile.

“You wouldn’t do that, you hate mess.” Clint grinned in knowing satisfaction before noticing his wife’s smirk.

“Details,” she shrugged, smirk still in place. “I’m sure Nat would do it for me.”

Clint scoffed as Darcy and Steve laughed. “No way, Nat loves me more.”

The woman in question wrapped her arm around the dark-haired woman’s waist and gave her a peck on the cheek before smiling at her partner.

“Don’t be so sure about that, Clinton,” Natasha chided with a small smile. “Laura might just leave you for me. You could share right James?” She called to her lover.

Bucky shrugged with a smile. “Sure, doll. Two gorgeous dames for me.”

“Ha!” cried Laura as everyone laughed at Clint’s jaw dropped expression.

“Fine. I can see when I’m not wanted.” Clint mock pouted and made his way to Tony and Pepper.

Darcy giggled before excusing herself outside for fresh air. She was due any day, and between the heat of the room and her husband, Darcy began to feel stifled. The chilly New York air on this New Year’s Eve cooled her down instantly. Darcy heard the balcony door opened and it revealed Thor in a suit and a well-dressed and slightly drunk Jane.

“Darcy,” Jane squealed as she squeezed her. “Why are you out here all alone? You should party!”

Jane released her with a giggle and a shimmy. Darcy looked up at Thor with a questioning eyebrow as he smiled fondly at his wife.

“I was a little hot, boss. No worries,” she replied with an amused head shake.

Jane shot her a suspicious look, before glancing up at Thor. “Well we are going to ring in the new year in our room. You should have Bruce check your temperature. Come on.”

Jane gripped her arm and dragged Darcy back into the room. “Bruce check Darcy, she’s sick.” Jane drunkenly announced to the room.

Darcy mentally face palmed and counted to three before defending herself. “Bruce, I’m fine. Just a bit warm.”

Bruce walked over to her, concern written all over his face. “Are you feeling sick, or is it just the temperature in this room?”

Steve instantly wrapped his arm around her waist.

“It’s this furnace,” she nudged Steve, “and the room. It’s hot, it smells, and I rather be naked.”

Bruce chuckled as Steve released Darcy, except for her hand.

“Bruce, she’s sick! What if it’s the flu?” Jane whined as Darcy actually face palmed before shooting Thor an exasperated look.

“Jane, you’re drunk and I’m fine. Let it go.”

The petite scientist firmly shook her head and Darcy sighed. “Not until Bruce promises.” she crossed her arms, staring expectantly.

“Gladly, Jane. Have a good night.”

Jane huffed as Thor placed a hand on her lower back and led her away.

“Bruce, you really don’t have to,” Darcy shot a strained smile towards him.

“It’s okay Darcy, I’m sure you want some fresh air. It’s cooler in the lab.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and latched onto his offered arm, before turning towards her husband. “I’ll be right back. Hopefully this gets the tiny science goddess off my back.”

Steve nodded, amused, and walked back to the group surrounding Tony.

Darcy and Bruce made their way to the lab in comfortable silence. Once inside, Bruce motioned for Darcy to sit at his desk while he gathered some first aid equipment.

“That’s not necessary, Bruce.”

Darcy huffed and swatted a thermometer away from her temple.

“Don’t you want proof you’re fine? She will look at Friday to confirm.”

Darcy groaned as Bruce chuckled and took her temperature. “she probably will. This’ll get her off my back at least.”

Bruce chuckled with a nod. “98.3. Fairly normal, nothing to worry about.”

“Great, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Darcy hopped off the stool and started to waddle when there was a boom. Darcy wobbled and fell into Tony’s desk, Bruce right behind her.

“Ow, shit,” she hissed between her teeth.

“Darcy, are you okay?” Bruce ushered her to the couch, prepared to look her over.

“Yeah, yeah, that just hurt like hell. Oh.”

Darcy looked down at her now wet feet, then up at Bruce frantically.

“I’m not ready, Bruce. I’m not.  Steve’s not here.”

Bruce rubbed her back soothingly and calmly quieted her.

“it’s okay, Darcy. We can just ask Friday to contact him.” Yeah okay.” Darcy sniffles. “Friday? Can you get Steve here please?”

There was no response, but another tower shaking boom. Darcy bit her lip tearfully and glanced back at Bruce.

“What’s happening?”

He shook his head at her, lost in thought. “I’m not sure, but we will get through this, okay?”

A contraction ripped through Darcy as she gripped her friends’ hand and nodded.

“Great. Deep breaths, count to ten.”

Bruce’s heart monitor beeped faster, and she cracked an eye open at him.

“Are you okay?” he nodded with a wry smile.

“Don’t worry about me. We are safe in here.”

Darcy merely raised a brow and semi smirked. “So, no green tantrums?”

Bruce let out a choked laugh at that. As he opened his mouth to respond, a chunk of the ceiling fell directly on top of Bruce. Darcy let out a shrill scream and scooted away from him.

“Bruce?”

“Get to the safe room, Dar –“

He gasped out in pain as his body began to change. Darcy nodded fearfully and made her way to the safe room door as another crippling contraction hit.

“Fucking fuck,” Darcy moaned, just before hearing a roar behind her.

Darcy turned with a strained smile and blew a kiss. “Hiya, Hulkie. How ya doin'?”

Hulk growled at her, before looking around the room as it shook yet again.

“I know. We are being attacked. Great time for me to go into labor, right?” She let out a watery chuckle and sat against the safe room door.

Hulk scrunched up his face at that and pointed at her stomach. “Baby?”

Darcy nodded and took a deep breath. “Yup, baby is coming. And the world is ending. Steve isn’t here. Great day.”

Tears streamed down her face as the incredible Hulk at down in front of her, albeit at a distance.

“…Spangles?”

Darcy giggled at that. “Yes, him. Tony told you that?, didn’t he?”

Hulk looked slightly relieved at her laugh and nodded. Darcy dried her tears and folded her arms over her protruding stomach.

“since I know you’ll keep me safe,” she forced a smile up at him, “you think we can go find Spangles?”

The panel of windows cracked, then shattered across the lab. Immediately, hulk was on his feet in front of her and let out a deafening roar. Hulk picked up the intruders and threw them back out of the window.

“Hulk! We have to get out of here!” Darcy screamed from her hiding spot.

Hulk gently placed her in his arms and looked for a quick exit.

“The building isn’t safe, we need to go!”

With a leap, hulk exited the building with a shrieking Darcy. On the ground again, Darcy leaned over a large green arm and vomited.

“Hospital. Please. Now?” Darcy whispered, afraid of her surroundings.

Everywhere she turned, there were lasers and aliens destroying the city.

“Darcy,” she looked up at Hulk with fear in her eyes. “safe.”

She nodded and held onto his arm as he took off into a run. Few minutes later, Darcy arrived in front of the hospital.

“Help Darcy,” Hulk roared as she moaned. Two nurses rushed to the entrance to see the green giant and the petite brunette. “Baby,” Hulk pointed to Darcy.

“Thanks for the ride! You’re my favorite!”

With a curious glance and a grunt, he was off and headed for destruction.

Darcy was ushered into the hospital and set up in the labor and delivery ward.

“of all the days to get here, you pick the day aliens attack. Smooth move, kid,” Darcy grumbled to her belly.

“Fuck Steve and his star-spangled cock!”

“Isn’t that what got you here in the first place?”

Darcy head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice. “Jane! You’re here!”

Her best friend enveloped her and placed a quick kiss to her crown before releasing. “As if I would miss the birth of my godchild. You think homicidal aliens would keep me away? Please.” Jane scoffed as she settled into the nearest chair.

“Not that I’m ungrateful, but where is Steve?”

“He should be here soon. Thor dropped me off since the threat is over. Now it’s just clean up.”

Darcy nodded, and cringed at the oncoming contraction. Jane noticed and winced in sympathy. “Mindless tv?”

Darcy grinned gratefully at her best friend and leaned back against her pillows.

An episode or three of house hunters later, Darcy was beginning to worry. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

Jane’s forehead creased in concern, and she dialed the person most likely to answer. “Tony, are you guys okay? Where is Steve?”

Jane nodded, confused, before rolling her eyes fondly. “why am I not surprised? When is the jet landing?”

“Room 503. See you soon.”

Jane hung up as Darcy squirmed in anticipation. “Where is my husband?”

“Steve is okay now, but he got injured. Took concrete to the ribs.”

Darcy's eyes widened in alarm as she reached to grab the phone before Jane moved it out of reach. “give me the phone Jane”

“No.”

“Now Jane!” tears threatened to slide down her face.

“They are landing on the roof as we speak. He should be here soon.”

Darcy leaned over and smacked her friend on the arm. Jane rubbed her arm and shot Darcy daggers, who returned them unrepentantly. “You couldn’t start with that?”

“Rude,” Jane said with a pout. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Darcy looked at her as if she had grown three heads and declared a hatred for science. “You didn’t want to worry me? Really?”

Darcy watched her friend shrug in apology before closing her eyes and take a deep breath.

“You know what? Never mind. Moving on.” She reopened her eyes with a patient smile. “Why did you smile?”

Jane perked up, leaning over with a grin. “Because Tony said he tried to run here with bruised ribs.”

Darcy giggled and shook her head fondly. “Of course he did. He wouldn't be him if he didn't.”

The pair heard a shout and commotion in the hall and shared a confused glance.

“No, I need to find my wife! DARCY!”

Jane stuck her head out the door to see Steve attempt to gently move around an older nurse and Bucky flirt with a young nurse at the nurse station.

“Don't mind him, he was always bad with the dames. Do you think you could help us out? Darcy Rogers?”

The young girl blushed and pointed down the hall.

“Thanks.” Bucky winked and strong-armed Steve down the hall, the rest of the avengers in tow.

“Darcy!” he wrenched his arm free, barreling his way into the room.

“Steve! You made it.” Darcy sighed in relief, a few errant tears trickled down her face. Steve ran to his wife’s bedside and planted a big kiss.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You were kicking ass, it’s okay. She’s not here yet anyway.” Darcy shrugged and smiled at his apology.

“Is everything okay?”

“Besides these fucking contractions? Just peachy.” Darcy looked around her husband and saw the rest of the team standing idly by the door.

“Hi guys. Here for the party?” She waved, earning a few snickers from the crowd.

“Is that what this is?” Bucky countered easily, going over to her and giving her a quick embrace.

“Obviously,” she replied, gripping his arm as another contraction tore through her. “Can someone get a doctor?”

Natasha slipped out of the room, unnoticed, as the team swarmed on Darcy, eager to help.

“What can I do?” Steve took her hand but quickly dropped it and retracted his and her glare.

“You? You keep your dick away from me.” Darcy groaned and leaned back as her pain lessened. “Guys, I’m fine. Really.”

Clint sniggered quietly at her mood swing, watching his partner slip in silently as the doctor strolled in.

“Good evening, Mrs. Rogers. I see you’ve caused quite the stir since your arrival.” The doctor smirked at Darcy, who returned it.

“Gotta keep the gossip mill going somehow, Doc!”

“And you have. Dropped off by Hulk, Captain America husband running through the halls. What’s next, streaking in the cafeteria?”

Darcy nodded in mock seriousness. “Absolutely, if it’s going to get me the good pie. I love coconut cream pie.”

The doctor chuckled at her expression. “As soon as baby is here. Shall we take a look-see, see how far you are along?”

“Sure,” Darcy agreed before turning to her friends. “This is not a free show, y'all are going to have to leave.”

Amidst the complaints, Tony piped up in protest. “I’m roughly the richest man in the world, so how much?”

Darcy laughed over the sound of Steve’s growl, completely unfazed. “You can't afford me, Stark. Now get out of my room. Shoo.”

She makes a shooing motion, and the heroes make their way to hug her. “Come back when you have showered and eaten.”

As the room emptied, Darcy turned back to her doctor with a smile. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

One hour and three pushes later, a beautiful baby girl was wrapped in a blanket as her parents stared on in wonderment.

“She’s so beautiful, Darce. Thank you.” Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Darcy’s crown and snuggled his baby girl. The remaining nurse walked over to the new parents with a bright smile.

“Congrats, mama. You had the first baby of the year, born January 1, at 12:00am. What’re you going to name her?”

The pair looked at each other, their little girl, then back to the nurse.

“Her name is Quinn Noelle Rogers.”

[wristic]

Builder and Beast

Pairing: Hulk & Reader (Not so much X but hey, beauty and the beast motif going on here.) Word Count: 1900 Warnings: Forced into a battle against a big angry green man. You, a simple garbage farmer, do not handle it well. (no blood or anything, just marvel style cinematic violence)

The lid of the mecha armor opened up in a sharp hiss, you standing within it and pulling off the interlinking helmet to a glowing applause. Your heart fluttered, a special kind of praise in seeing the Grandmaster smile at your invention. Quickly hopping down on the well placed arm, you met him a safe distance where he stood, the Grandmaster stroking his chin as he seemed to wonder. You looked on at your mecha made from the scraps of the world, standing above the crowd, patchwork yet intimidating, unpainted to show the different steels and designs. Pride was glowing in you for what you could create in the forgotten garbage coated planet of Sakaar.

“Good good…” The Grandmaster thought allowed, causing you to bow your head bashfully. “You’ll look stunning in the fight.”

All the joy you felt was hit with a brick of ice. Your horrified disbelief went unnoticed in the crowd poking at your invention. The Grandmaster still smiled away imagining the coming championship. The only one to notice was his executioner, a small quirk on her lips at your drained expression. “What?”

Barely tilting his head he finally seemed to get a hint of your confusion. Pointing to your mecha he explained, “Well I’d like to see it in action-”

“I can’t-” You hadn’t meant to interrupt, quickly bowing down a little lower at his raised brow and tried to plead with him in a more submissive level. “Gr-Grandmaster please, I’m a builder not a fighter. I can input algorithms and improve statistics, but I have no knowledge of a warriors instinct.”

“Than this makes it the perfect test!” He chimed, turning back to your suit and thankfully not taking any insult from your behavior. “If your robot is as good as you say, even someone as untalanted in using it as you could come out a winner, right?” Staring at his feet you gulped hard, praying you wouldn’t cover them in this mornings breakfast. You came to sell the mecha, not use it.

“Sir-My Lord-Grandmaster, i-if the price is too high-”

He let out a great long laugh, “Oh you, are, precious. Topaz,” He motioned to his assistant. “Get her ready for tonight games. Great~ Best of luck!” In a fantastic turn he sauntered away to another group show casing another invented or discovered set of weapons. All Topaz had to do was stand beside you, looking up and down with her stone bored face. Your armor seemed so flimsy now, knowing who you’d be set against. Hard to imagine you rooted for him with the rest of the world just last week. Even had some fun merchandise to help inspire you into creating something that could take him one day, but there was very little confidence this mecha could take on the Hulk.

Maybe the Grandmaster knew that.

They cut your hair, slapped on some red and gold to your formally grey interlocking suit. Panic had you running in circles of the unending room until you broke, curled up to the wall and in tears. A man made of stone tried his best to comfort you, saying not so comforting words about a quick death and offering what you questioned was food. “I don’t know what I did to get sent here.” You sniffled into your hands.

“None of us really do anything to deserve to be here.” He chuckled, gently smacking your weary shoulder. “Just gotta be entertainin’, that’s all. You pull that off without dying, you can come hang out with us some more, ay?”

It wasn’t a very uplifting thought.

When the doors finally opened and your name called, the shadow of your towering mecha engulfing, you shrank into yourself hoping to disappear. Krog was helpful in ushering you, in explaining what happened to ‘forfeitures’.

Shaking in your thin boots, the crowd laughed as you snuck out. How could they not. This massive robot before you and you must have looked like a frightened little child stepping out, your face too far away to see the tears. Avoiding all their mocking riot, you found your helmet on the ground waiting. Quickly nabbing and slapping it on your fingers were shaking too much to properly clasp it on, growing frustrated and giving up before rushing to your gaudy red and gold robot, it responding fast to your thoughts, using an arm to lift you inside the cockpit. Once inside, snug tight in familiar lights and smells, you gripped the handles for dear life. The whole mecha staggered to life. However, it responded to your fearful state, clenching and unclenching its giant fists, swaying and looking around at the towering stadium.

The crowd took a shift, calling and cheering, raising their Hulk paraphernalia. Within the helm you started to tremble, the mecha shifting around faster, like an animal backing into the wall and desperately searching out escape. It was dizzying, being thrashed from side to side, up and down, your breathing and eyes so unfocused you barely caught the opponent doors start to open.

When you heard his roar, the mecha stopped, hyper focused on the sound. Before the doors could open all the way him and all his green glory busted through them, the choice mace and ax denting the thick steel out of his way.

All his excitement started dwindling fast at the sight of you, his lumbering steps slowing. The camera enhancing his expression to show his confusion. Big green eyes, more Sapian than you’d ever seen in all his promotions, and… were they green? They looked to have a rim of brown this close…

The confusion took a hard shift into anger, the Hulk calling out, you didn’t even know he could talk, “Ironman?” He stalked toward you, and you stumbled back. “Come to put me to sleep?” He started to rush which only made you stiffen more, the panic putting you at a complete standstill. “No going back!”

As he leapt, bringing both weapons down in a mighty roar, your mecha auto corrected your frozen fear, raising both hands and catching his wrists, the hydraulics in the legs hissing under the strain of his weight and strength. In a gasp of instinct you swung him around, tossing the Hulk back across the ring. In the moment your plan had been to charge and inlay attack after attack, but again, as he stood, you were frozen and awkward.

The voice of the Grandmaster invaded your headset, his annoyance sounding more amused than anything. “I thought that thing had rockets, jet packs, super precision and strength. Don’t be shy, show off a little!” While many words wanted to burst from you all at once, the most you could muster watching the Hulk charge you was a long panicked whine. “Okay, okay, I hear you. Maybe this will help.”

The whole system, the one you were completely surrounded in, erupted in electrical discharge. The body suit and helm protected you but it gave such a startle your hands and feet retracted from the steering handles. By the time you could open your eyes again the Hulk was already there, a big hand covering the screen of the cockpit as he started thrashing you around into the ground.

You imagined the electric shock was meant to kick in some primal defense, instead you stayed curled up in your seat, waiting for the violent roller coaster to end.

Not just the Hulk but the crowd started getting frustrated with the lackluster tactic of your mecha going entirely limp. As he held your robot by it’s head, he brought it close and grabbed the lip of where the cockpit opened. Sparks and crunching metal caused you to scream, curled in tight while the hot air of Sakaar reached you and spotlights poured in.

A strong grip encased your chest, pulling hard, yanking the belts clean from the seat, your helmet slipping off. As he lifted you high out of the safety of your robot you kept screaming, clinging to his big hand, clawing at his wrist as you sobbed harder, “Please! Please please! I was forced into here, I didn’t want to fight I-”

You noticed he hadn’t done anything with you, only watched as you begged and cried. After a few hics you could see the way he analyzed you, that was the only word for it, searching every little inch of your face to know how genuine you were, your little heart slamming against his palm. “Please…” You whimpered, “I’m just an engineer. I just build things. I didn’t want to fight.”  

His scowl slowly raised, eyes going wide in such a vulnerable way before roaming the stands. The people held little sympathy for your tears, all shouting “Crush, Crush, Crush,” in a growing hungry chorus.

You flinched as his fingers adjusted, tense as he thought. There was no rage in his expression, only frustration. As he looked into your eyes, only sympathy. In a gentle swing he brought you to his burning chest, cradling you like a kitten in his arms as he walked back to his busted entrance doors.

The stadium filled with the hologram of the Grandmaster, “Hey. Hey! You can’t do that! Where do you think you’re going? Where does he think he’s- you get back here and finish the-”

The Hulk spun back around and roared, louder than the Grandmasters orders and louder than the infuriated audience. His call echoed through the city, gifting a never recalled silence on the world.

Uncovering your ringing ears you looked around, looked up to the hologram. In an exhausted huff and a roll of his eyes, the Grandmaster motioned behind him, “Fine. Keep your little pet.” The giant steel doors tried opening wider but grinded and sparked in place. “Just don’t make a habit out of this, you hear me? You only get this one!”

The corridor grew quiet, the Hulk carrying you away and not saying much. You still trembled, tears still falling, but as he stepped into an elevator you managed to say, “Th-thank you.”

It was then he set you down, patient as it took a moment to put strength in your legs. “Thought you was someone else.” He spoke deeply, but quietly. “He could have fought Hulk. You like, a baby.”

As you wiped your nose you couldn’t stop the offended glare. “I’m just... not a fighter.” Wiping away your tears, “Someone with better knowledge of combat was suppose to wield that robot. It worked brilliantly with Valkyrie in it...”

“Well you not fight again.” He nodded. “You bad at it.”

The elevator stopped, the doors opening to a red and white decorated hall, leading into a room. After a brief need to defend yourself, you sighed. “You’re not wrong.”

Instead of following him out, Hulk gave you a nudge out the elevator. “More fighting for Hulk. You stay safe. Build stuff.” It dawned on you you may not be leaving soon. But there wasn’t much to get back too. Just sifting through a world of junk, trying not to get beaten and robbed by gangs for the things you created and sold as a living. At least under the care of the Grandmasters favored champion you’d know a meal would be coming that week. A grateful smile began creeping on you, the doors closing on him.

Just before the doors slipped shut his hand crashed through and pulled it open to point accusingly at you, “No evil robots!”

It caught you off guard, confused on where the assumption came from. But it wasn’t hard to comply with, “No evil robots. Promise. Just tiny crushable robots.”

He stepped back with a smile, nodding and appreciating you two had an understanding.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

My Eyes - Part 5

Pairing: Bucky; Steve x Fem/Reader

Word Count: 4,414

Story Description: Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.

Story takes place post “CA: CW” and all tension has been resolved.

Previously On...

Bucky just punched out another person. This was something he’d never had to deal with. There must be a team of enhanced people behind all of this. Someone was controlling civilians to attack them. They couldn’t kill them. It made a complicated situation even more complicated.

Suddenly Tony came flying over in his Ironman suit. He landed with a crack to the cement. “They must have a technopath. All our comms are down and when I get into a certain radius, my suit starts to break down. It’s like a dead zone. ”

Bucky clenched his jaw. That would explain the radio silence. He was too busy trying to disable the mind-controlled civilians without doing serious damage.

“This is chaos. We’re all over the place and these enhanced are hiding like cowards… making innocent people carry out their plans” Bucky growled. And he couldn’t lie, his body was running out of adrenaline. They’d been at this for hours.

There was suddenly a blow of energy and Tony cried out in frustration. His suit practically spit him out. It managed to get rid of him before it completely shut down. “Damn it!” Tony snarled.  

“We can’t do this for much longer, Stark.” Bucky yelled over the fighting. “Where was the radius where you suit started to become faulty? We can’t keep going without communicating with each other.”

“They’ll disable your arm before you even get close, Barnes.” Tony argued.

“I only need one arm to kill them.” Barnes growled.

With that, Tony started giving him the coordinates. He stayed behind to see if he could somehow get his suit back off the ground.

Bucky was sprinting through the debris. It was harder navigating through London. The streets were like a web, unlike the straightforward grid of New York City. He saw Steve from a distance, shield flying back and forth between the enemy and the super soldier. Bucky’s heart was telling him to go help. But he knew that he needed to find the enhanced before they could continue fighting.

His metal arm started to tremble. It was listening to his nervous system less and less as he neared a building that miraculously remained unscathed by the attack on the city. This had to be the place.

He burst into the building and was sprinting up the stairs. They had to be on the roof. It was the only thing that made sense and somehow he could feel their energy from above him.

He found them, a group of five people. His metal arm was rendered useless. It didn’t matter.

They were expecting him. But they weren’t expecting someone merciless. They had studied the minds of the Avengers. That was part of their whole plan. They expected to be reasoned with first. But Bucky still didn’t consider himself one of earth’s mightiest heroes. He also didn’t have time for diplomacy and sympathy. These people had killed innocent lives and they had hid like cowards.

Bucky ripped out the gun from his holster and shot the telepath immediately. The bullet embedded itself right in her skull. He knew to start with her; he had felt her starting to sneak into his mind almost immediately.

Now he’d made his intentions known: none of them were getting out of this room alive.

“Now which one of you is the technopath?” Bucky growled.

Panic ensued. But Bucky remained calm and ready. Everything happened so quickly. They used their powers, except they were helpless. One had super strength, but they were clumsy and incompetent. There was no technique behind the man’s punches or attacks. Bucky made quick work of him, using combinations too rapidly for him to predict and block.  

Next was the pyro, tossing flame after flame. Bucky dove and rolled just in time. His movements were too close and fast for the pyro to react. If they were in an open space, she’d have the advantage. But her flames were too deadly for her to release her full strength on Bucky. With one last roll, he shot a bullet to her heart.

There was just two left now: the technopath and an older looking man.

With the few seconds Bucky allowed himself to catch his breath, he realized that the technopath was just a child. The way the man held her made it clear the girl was being kept here against her will. Maybe he was her father.

“Let her go.” Bucky growled with his gun raised at the man.

“She’s already hacking into the launch codes of the approaching Royal Air Force.” The man said calmly.

The girl was crying now. “I’m sorry. I can’t control it. He’s making me.”

Bucky couldn’t stand the sound of her cries. He fired a bullet. But the man raised his hand and stopped it in mid-air.

“You’ve already killed enough lives. Let the girl go and I won’t kill you.” Bucky was helpless.

But the man didn’t appear to be paying attention to Bucky. He was listening to something in the air. “There they are…” He muttered in an evil joy. Then he squeezed the little girl’s shoulder too tightly. “Drop the bombs.” He voice was menacing and it made the girl jump.

Her dark brown eyes, filled with tears, looked up at Bucky in fear and desperation. “I’m…I’m s-so sorry.”

Next thing he knew, the man was shoving the little girl toward Bucky. He caught her gently in his arms. It distracted him just enough to miss his shot. He clipped the man, but the bullet didn’t land in lethal positioning.

The man had still been thrown onto his back from the impact. Bucky hovered over him, gun raised for the final blow.

“You’re too late.” The man laughed.

Bucky didn’t hesitate as pulled the trigger. He saw the little girl jump and gasp at the sound.

But then the ground started shaking and Bucky felt a wave of scorching heat. His heart jumped as he raced to the window. Bomb after bomb was free falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” The girl sobbed.

Just then, Natasha and Wanda came barging into the room.

Perhaps it was a sixth sense, but Bucky suddenly had a feeling of utter horror. “Steve…” He muttered. Then he was sprinting out the door and leaving the girl to be tended to by Wanda and Natasha without a word.

“Stark, stark is the suit functioning?” Bucky was yelling, hoping the comms were back online now that the technopath was dead.

There was static, but he could tell someone was trying to respond.

The ground wouldn’t stop shaking as the bombs were making impact.

“Barnes, comms are back and my suit is online!” Tony clearly had been repeating this until he knew Bucky heard him.

“Stark, do you have eyes on Steve?” Bucky was sprinting through debris and trying to keep his footing as the ground rattled.

“He…he was close. Too close.” Sam suddenly spoke up. The dismay in his voice was enough to urge Bucky into a faster sprint. “There’s too much smoke! I…I can’t find him.” Sam’s voice was desperate and suddenly filled with emotion.

But then Bucky was running into the black clouds. All the bombs had fallen and there was an eerie silence as the ruins settled.

“Steve! Steve, where are you?” Bucky screamed out as his eyes frantically searched for any sign of him.

His heart was racing in a panic as he continued to scream Steve’s name.

Then he saw the shield, covered in soot and half hidden by a pile of bricks. Bucky grabbed it by instinct and sensed that he was getting close. A new wave of energy surged through him as he continued his search. “Steve!”

“Buck…” It was a whimper from some yards away.

But he was able to locate it and sprint forward.

Bucky found him in seconds. Steve’s legs were trapped under a slab of concrete that had fallen from a nearby bridge. But that was the least of his worries. Bucky had to control his expression when he saw the blood spilling out from multiple places on Steve’s body.

“I need evac. and medical immediately! I found Steve!” Bucky was yelling into his comms and started spewing out their coordinates. Tony and Sam responded, but knew not to ask questions. Bucky’s tone told them how bad it was.

“Steve…I got to get you out from underneath here. This might hurt, okay?” Bucky’s voice was overly nice. He stepped over and bellowed as his body struggled to lift the weight off of Steve’s legs. Through adrenaline alone, he managed to remove it. 

Bucky looked down to see Steve’s legs ripped to shreds.

Next he tried to put pressure to the multiple wounds in his chest.

Steve was terrifyingly quiet. He didn’t whimper out in pain or say anything. But Bucky could see from his expression that he was suffering.

“Steve…” Bucky breathed. “Hey, Stevie.” He caught his attention. “I’m gonna need you to stay with me, okay?”

---

Bruce was trying his best to tend to Steve’s wounds. He’d been on the jet the whole battle, waiting for a code green. But the Hulk had been too dangerous to throw against civilians who were under mind control.

“Barnes, I need you to keep this pressure here.” He said calmly.

Steve started coughing then and Bucky’s stomach knotted when he realized he was coughing up blood. He shared a look with Banner and that’s when he knew: Steve might not make it.

“I need more gauze.” Banner muttered and went to the supply cabinet within the jet.

“Buck?” Steve practically whispered.

“Yeah, pal, what is it?” Bucky asked softly.

“Please don’t call Y/N. I don’t want her to see me this way.”

“Steve, I…I…” Bucky didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t promise that.

“Bucky, she doesn’t need to see me like this.” Steve’s voice was firmer this time. But he was really saying that she shouldn’t have to watch him die.

Bucky looked up desperately. Natasha made eyes with him. Through a look, she told him that she’d already called Y/N. She would be waiting at the compound when they arrived.

Bucky turned his attention back to his friend. “Steve, you need to save your energy.” His eyes were starting to fill with tears, but he managed to push them back.

---

Y/N was trembling as she saw the jet landing. She just had to see him. Once she saw him, her mind convinced her that everything would be okay. 

“Y/N… you’re gonna need to meet us at the compound.” Natasha had said evenly. “Steve’s hurt. Y/N…it’s really bad.”

That’s all the information and warning Y/N received before hanging up the phone. Her mind had gone to mush as she raced to the Avenger’s compound. She didn’t see the colors on the traffic lights. She didn’t even remember what route she took. Her body just moved her where she needed to go. The entire ride, her hands didn’t stop trembling on the steering wheel.

Suddenly the jet’s platform lowered and she gasped as she saw Banner and Stark rolling Steve down on a gurney. Y/N rushed forward, but suddenly Bucky was there gripping her shoulders.

“Y/N. Y/N, listen to me!” Bucky tried to catch her eye, but she was desperately watching Steve being carried away. “They’re taking him to the medical wing. Dr. Cho is going to do everything she can.”

Y/N still wasn’t looking at him.

“Y/N!” Bucky begged.

She finally looked at him, completely in shock. “Bucky? Bucky…what happened?” Her voice sounded so faint and her entire body was shaking.  

“I…I don’t know. I wasn’t there. I should've been with him, but I wasn’t.” Bucky’s voice was desperate. “There were bombs falling and the shrapnel…it-it must have got him.”

“Please, I have to see him.” Y/N begged. “I can help.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. How did she think she could help? But he started guiding her toward the medical wing anyway.

The entire team was already outside the emergency room, staring into the windows. Dr. Cho didn’t even acknowledge that almost every single Avenger was watching her. Her team was frantically trying to treat wound after wound. But they quickly realized Steve’s injuries were even worse than Banner had reported. 

They were fatal. 

Y/N was holding onto Bucky like her life depended on it. Her eyes never stopped watering tears. But she was silent as they fell, making the entire scene even more eerie.

Dr. Cho suddenly burst from the room. She started muttering something to Tony. Y/N’s gaze flickered to the doctor before she made her move.

In a flash, Y/N had slipped out of Bucky’s grasp and sprinted into the emergency room. He rushed after her. 

One of Dr. Cho’s nurses reached for her.

“Don’t touch her!” Bucky snarled, making the nurse stop abruptly.

Y/N reached for Steve’s hands. Bucky watched in astonishment, as Steve’s entire body appeared to relax from her touch. Now Y/N looked in pain. 

Dr. Cho came rushing in the room to stop her, but Bucky held up his hand. Nobody on the medical team knew who Y/N was. But they quickly started figuring it out as they watched the reunion.  

“Steve? Steve can you hear me?” Y/N whispered to him. She was leaning onto the bed, holding his right hand with both of hers.

Steve’s eyes flickered open, her voice calling him from his subconscious. “Y/N…” He sighed and his eyes somehow still managed to brighten at the sight of her.

“Steve, you can’t leave me here. You have to hold on.” Y/N sobbed.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much.” But it sounded like a goodbye.

“Steve, I have to tell you something…” Y/N pleaded.

He waited.

“I’m-I’m pregnant.” Her tears rushed down even more rapidly. “I-I was so scared to tell you. So you have to fight. I can’t do this without you. I need you.”

Bucky’s heart stopped when he caught what Y/N said. Then he heard Wanda gasp, saw Natasha cover her mouth in shock and he knew that everyone else had overheard it too. 

He remembered the weekend at the lake house: how she’d gotten sick out of nowhere and said all of those things about settling down with Steve. Y/N had known the whole time. How could Bucky have missed the signs?

“You’re pregnant?” Steve asked through a tired smile. And despite his circumstance, a tear slid down.

Y/N nodded urgently.

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes suddenly glazed over. Y/N called his name, but all she could hear was the frantic beeping of the heart monitor. The medical team jumped into action, one nurse separating Y/N from Steve.  

“Somebody get her out of here!” Dr. Cho demanded.

“Steve!” Y/N screamed out repeatedly.

But Bucky was dragging her away and she had no chance against his strength. He was dragging her out of the emergency room and into the hallway with the rest of the team. Half of them were watching Steve dying and the other half were staring at Y/N in absolute dismay.

Bucky had backed them into a wall. Y/N’s legs gave out as she was sobbing into his chest. She’d given up fighting him. Bucky slid down to the floor, his arms tight around her. Her tears fell and fell as she trembled in his lap. Bucky’s hand caressed the side of her head, gripping it closer to his chest as they both heard the final tone of the heart monitor.

Seconds later, Dr. Cho slowly walked out of the emergency room.

The hallway was dead silent except for the everlasting tone of the heart monitor.

Dr. Cho met Y/N’s eyes as her sobbing allowed a moment of standstill.

The doctor looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry…”

Y/N crying didn’t continue. She was numb. Her body didn’t want to believe that Steve was dead. But somehow heart felt the truth.

Nobody knew what to say. Nobody knew what to do.

But someone in the emergency room turned off the heart monitor and it seemed to awaken the zombie in Y/N.

Without saying a word, she carefully detached herself from Bucky. She stood up and didn’t acknowledge anyone. Her feet guided her into the emergency room and she pulled a chair next to his body. “Please get out.” Her voice said in a robotic tone.

The medical assistants looked at Dr. Cho and she just nodded her head.

Y/N was left alone in the room as she sat and held Steve’s lifeless hand.

Bucky took a step forward, but Natasha gently placed a hand on his chest. “Don’t. Just let her be with him for a bit.”

The team didn’t know what else to do or say, so they slowly started separating and began grieving in their own ways. But Bucky and Natasha stayed in the hallway, giving Y/N space in the room, but waiting for when she needed them.

What actually happened suddenly caught up to Bucky: his best friend was dead. 

He started crying silently and ran a hand through his hair.

“I-I should’ve been there.” Bucky muttered.

“Hey! This is not your fault.” Natasha shut it down immediately. “If it weren’t for you, even more people would’ve died. If the roles had been reversed, Steve would’ve done the exact same thing as you.”

But Natasha held his hand as he continued to cry. 

---

A few hours had passed when Dr. Cho slowly came walking back into the hallway. The emergency room door was closed so Y/N couldn’t hear anything.

“We really need to take the body.” Dr. Cho said softly. “She shouldn’t be left like this for so long. It’s not good for her.”

Bucky just nodded and slowly got up from sitting on the cold tile next to Natasha.

He carefully opened the door. The sight of Y/N sitting there with Steve’s dead body was an image that would haunt Bucky for the rest of his life. 

“Y/N…?”

She ignored him.

“Y/N, they have to take him away.”

She said nothing. But Bucky saw that her hands were trembling as they held onto Steve. 

“Honey, you can’t stay here forever.” Natasha’s voice pushed gently.

Y/N just nodded.

Then her eyes zoned out. “They won’t be able bury him, will they?”

Bucky and Natasha shared a look.

“You don’t need to think about that right now.” Natasha urged. “Come on. Let’s get you back upstairs.” She walked into the room and placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders.

Thankfully, Y/N allowed Nat to move her. She walked out of the room like she was sleepwalking. Bucky watched as Nat guided her down the hallway, leaving Dr. Cho and him alone.

“Sergeant Barnes?” The doctor asked. He glanced at her. “Would you like a moment alone before we take him?”

Bucky gazed at Steve’s lifeless body for a second before he nodded.

Dr. Cho just nodded and closed the door behind her.

Bucky slowly made his way to the chair beside the hospital bed.

He stared at Steve’s…corpse. His chest was bare. They had cut off his uniform to tend to all of the wounds. The gashes in his chest had stopped bleeding, but some of it was now dried on his skin.

“I always thought I’d be the first to die.” Bucky admitted. “I’ve never imagined what either of us would look like, old and grey. I realize now it’s because that life was never an option for any of us. Heroes never die old.”

Bucky got choked up now. “What am I supposed to do without you, Steve?” He looked around at the room. “You were the only reason I was ever here.” He confessed. “It should me in this bed…not you.”

There was a knock on the door. Bucky wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand. He gave the body one last look before he walked past Dr. Cho.

---

Y/N stayed locked in Steve’s bedroom for days after the funeral.

She was right about burying him. Dr. Cho and Banner explained that people would be after his body. The serum was still in his genetic code. 

Despite the empty casket, the funeral had still been a hero’s affair. They managed to keep it as quiet as possible. But the people grieved across the country in their own ways. 

Y/N remained at the back of the guests, hidden like some shameful mistress. The world would never know about the woman Steve Rogers loved with all of his heart.

Bucky watched as Wanda and Natasha carried another plate of food to Steve’s bedroom. Sam would be allowed in every once in awhile. He was the best suited for talking to someone in grief. The three of them were the only people Y/N would even acknowledge. Porthos would growl and threaten anyone that she made it clear she didn’t want to speak to.

Bucky didn’t see her again until a week after the funeral. He was covered in sweat from working out hours in the gym. He didn’t know how else to cope.

He was surprised to see Y/N walking out of Fury’s office. Porthos was right on her heels.

Bucky eyed her.

But she had no intention of acknowledging him as she began to walk past him. Bucky caught her arm, pulling her to a stop. “What were you doing talking to Fury?”

Y/N ripped her arm out of his grip and ignored his question.

She continued walking but Bucky jumped in front of her, blocking her path. “Y/N, please talk to me.”

“Get out of my way.” Y/N snapped. Porthos, sensing that she was upset, gave a warning growl to Bucky.

He ignored it. “Y/N, we need to talk about this! You…the baby…I-“

“I’m not keeping it.” Y/N interjected.

Bucky came to an abrupt halt. “What?” His voice was barely a whisper.

Y/N finally stared him down. “I said I’m not keeping it.” She said every word slowly and clearly to make her point. Her finger slammed on the elevator button.

“Y/N, I understand what you’re going through. But please don’t-“

The elevator doors opened.

“Steve is dead, Bucky!” She shouted. “So you can stop pretending to give a fuck about me! You have no one to make the effort for anymore!”

Her words were like a stake to Bucky’s heart. He was speechless. And before he could manage to find any words, the elevator doors closed in his face.

---

The next day, Y/N got on a plane to go back home to her family.

She’d told Wanda, Natasha, and Sam she didn’t know when she’d be back.

Without the need to comfort Y/N, grief managed to find its way back to Bucky. Nobody knew what to say to him. To them, Bucky had always been an extension of Steve. Without him, they didn’t know how to approach Bucky… except for maybe Sam.

Then they were under the impression that Y/N had returned to her house after a few more weeks. Bucky volunteered to go over to check on her. But when he got to her house, something felt off.

Bucky went to the front door and knocked. But when he heard the doorbell inside, it reverberated far too much. He decided to let himself in. To his dismay, the door was never even locked. His throat tightened when he walked in to find the entire house completely empty. He went through all the rooms and not a speck of dust could even be found. There was no note. No explanation.

Y/N was gone.

Bucky jaw clenched. 

---

Fury shot to his feet when Bucky plummeted in his office.

“Where the hell is she?” He yelled.

“You do not have the right to that information, Sergeant Barnes.” Despite the rage that was emanating from the super soldier, Fury remained calm and unfazed.  

“What the fuck did you do, Fury?” His voice was a menacing growl.

Fury crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Y/N came to me, asking for a favor and it was the least I could do after everything that girl has been through.”

“And what exactly was the favor?”

“She wanted to go off the grid.” Fury stated simply.

“Who gave you the right?” Bucky yelled.

“Sergeant Barnes, she does not want anything to do with this establishment or the Avengers. If she had asked you to do the same, would you have ignored her request?”

“YES!” Bucky roared. “Y/N is grieving! She just lost the love of her life and she is not in the right state of mind to be making rash decisions!”

“Like getting an abortion?” Fury offered.

Bucky’s stomach dropped. “…you didn’t.”

“I understand you feel you have a duty to Captain Rogers. But it was Y/N’s decision.”

“Give me the coordinates.” Bucky barked.

“Y/N’s location is classified.” Nick retorted without missing a beat.

“Fury, if I have to kill you to get that information from you, I-”

That was the final straw. Before Bucky could finish his threat, Nick raised a gun out of nowhere. “Did you just threaten me, Barnes?” His voice was smooth, but filled with warning.

Bucky’s chest was heaving as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

Tension packed the room.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N could have asked for anything. But all she wanted was to get away from our world… the same world that killed the man she loved. I hope you respect her demands. Because if you don’t, I will be forced to take action.”

Bucky knew then he was never getting that information.

Y/N was smart. She knew what she was doing when she’d gone to Fury. The man always had a soft spot for Cap and he did what Y/N asked as a final favor to him. Fury transferred all of her funds to a new and untraceable bank account, found a safe house, and gave her a burner phone if there was ever an emergency. 

None of the Avengers would ever find her. Nick Fury would make sure of it.

Bucky finally backed out of the room.

He made his way to the kitchen. Everyone was about to have dinner together. They tried to find solace in each other.

Wanda was the first to grasp that something had just happened. She asked if Y/N was okay, being under the impression that Bucky had just returned from her house.

Bucky explained the situation, how Y/N had left and Fury helped her disappear. He told them she didn’t want to see any of them. The whole team went silent. They didn’t know what to say. “What…what about the baby?” Natasha had the courage to ask what everyone was thinking.

Bucky stared at the ground. “She didn’t keep it.” His voice shook as he said the words.

Wanda’s eyes filled with tears.

Bucky just nodded absently, like he was trying to convince himself of the words he just said. Without saying anything more, he turned around and headed to his room.

---

Part 6

I know. I know. I’m so so sorry. I tried to warn you from the very beggining that this was a sad story. I really tried.  If it’s an consolation, this is the first time I’ve ever cried writing.  But this is not the end of the story! There is so much more to come. 

[lykegenia]

The Things We Hide Ch. 18

The Southern Water Tribe stood for a hundred years against the Fire Nation, indomitable until Sozin’s Comet tipped the balance in Fire Lord Ozai’s favour. Now, as planned, the South is decimated, Chief Hakoda is a puppet on his throne, and Princess Katara is a political prisoner held in the Fire Nation capital to ensure his good behaviour. But Ozai has little time to gloat. A vigilante masquerading as the Blue Spirit is causing unrest among the people, rebel ships still hound his navy, and right under his nose the South’s most powerful waterbender waits with the patience of ice to strike at the very heart of his empire and bring it crashing down.

Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3 Masterpost here

Words: 4160 Pairing: Zuko x Katara Chapter Summary: Zuko makes a difficult choice

“You have disgraced me.” 

The flames in the throne room burned hot, almost white in the gutter that separated the Fire Lord from the Crown Prince and the crowd of honoured generals gathered to witness his son’s punishment.  

“Your position, your country, all of it thrown away because a little Water Tribe whore fluttered her eyelashes at you.” 

Zuko's fists clenched against the floor, but he kept his head bowed, and offered no resistance to his father's censure. 

“I should proclaim your idiocy through the streets,” Ozai sneered, “so that all can share in your humiliation. Unless, perhaps, it wasn’t weakness that played a part in this plot, and it’s your complicity that should be discussed instead?” 

The words were a sting too far. “I had no idea what she was, or what she was doing,” Zuko snarled, finally looking up. “As soon as I realised what was happening, I took the guard to arrest her. I tried to fix it. They must have sensed the net closing around them and used the confusion caused by the attack to escape.” 

The Fire Lord's shadow reared back on his throne, considering the reply with a long stroke of his beard. The generals waited with bated breath. Restored to her own seat on the dais, Azula watched the proceedings with barely disguised glee, her smirk a vicious contrast to the stony calm that enveloped her mother like a shroud. Ursa stared straight ahead, a perfect picture of a dutiful Fire Lady, though like Zuko, she held her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Any intervention or show of emotion now would only serve to awaken Ozai's capricious nature, and whatever violence he was capable of through anger, it was only matched by the viciousness caused by his spite. 

“And you have no idea where they might have gone?” the Fire Lord asked now, the words cold with mockery. 

Zuko's mouth flattened into a thin line, his thoughts flying back to the break-in at his office, to the letter from the prisoner governor that she had stolen. “For some reason, she didn’t think it a good idea to tell me her plans.” 

“Your sarcasm is unnecessary,” Ozai snapped. “A result of the Water Tribe’s bad influence, no doubt.” He straightened. “It doesn’t matter. Admiral Zhao!” 

The general rose from his seat and gave a crisp bow towards the dais. “What do you wish of me, Excellency?” 

“Outfit the fleet for a voyage into Southern waters, with full battle capabilities – we will show these barbarians the cost of defying our mercy. You are to leave no one alive, man woman, or child.” 

Ursa’s eyes widened. “My lord –” 

Ozai snarled at her. “You will be silent. It is your meddling that led to this in the first place. Mercy is weakness, it has no place here.” 

“Yes, my lord,” she replied, dropping her gaze. “I merely wished to advise the admiral that winter will be coming to the South, and that he should take extra care to avoid unnecessary risks in an environment that is every bit as unforgiving as our own lava fields.” 

Ever the sycophant, Zhao offered her a nod. “I thank Your Grace for the advice.” 

With one last glance at his wife’s blithe expression, the Fire Lord curled his lip and turned away. The Water Tribe, it seemed, had had a rebellious influence on more than one of his household, but to apply the proper discipline in front of his generals would only waste time and open himself to ridicule.

“Leave as soon as you are able,” he told Zhao. “My son will be going with you, to make up for his indiscretion and to prove that he does indeed still have some honour after all.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”  

With another bow, the admiral resumed his seat, already preening at the thought of going down in history as the one to destroy the Southern Water Tribe. Zuko could almost see the gears turning in his head, already coining titles for himself: Zhao the Wolf Slayer; Zhao the Conqueror. And there was no doubt about what the man would do if the Prince revealed himself to be anything less than enthusiastic in carrying out the Fire Lord’s orders. He might as well sign his own execution warrant now and he done with it. 

Azula cleared her throat, and Zuko's mood dropped further. The hyena-cat smile she wore had never boded well for him. “Father,” she purred, “there is a chance The Water Tribe princess won’t be heading back to the South. She might be going to the Earth Kingdom to stir up your enemies.” 

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Ozai replied slowly. At the mention of Katara, his hand had reached up for the scar on his cheek, but now he fisted his fingers against the reflex and deliberately set his hand back on his knee. “It makes no difference to what must be done. That witch has made a mockery of the Fire Nation, she has defied us, vandalised our home and our capital city, and spat in the face of the generosity shown her.” His expression grew into a lazy smile as he turned towards his daughter.  “Azula, here is your chance to prove your competence. Track down Katara of the Water Tribe and bring her back to me.” 

“Yes, Father.” 

The smile faded as he glanced once more at the figure koutou’ing in abject humility on the throne room floor. “Zuko,” the Fire Lord sneered. “Get out of my sight.” 

Even hours later, Zuko felt the contempt in his father’s voice ringing in his ears, but no less so than the indecision. He had four days before Zhao would expect him on the flagship bound for Southern waters, and nothing to do in the meantime but pace in his confinement like a caged moose-lion. They expected his frustration, so he gave in to it, first with three hours of firebending training and then with a long douse under the cooling springwater that was channelled directly to his rooms, but now, his energy was spent. He had shut himself in his office, and sat at his desk with his head cradled in his hands. Even here, in his solitude, his sister's singsong, gloating false sympathy made him grind his teeth. 

“Aww, poor Zu-Zu,” she had simpered as they left the throne room. “It seems as if you really are unlucky aren’t you? All that time, and it was all a lie. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to say hello for you once I have her in chains.” 

“She’ll rip you to pieces first,” he had snarled back. 

“You think so? When we fought outside Keijo, she only escaped because the Blue Spirit knocked her out of the way.” 

“The Blue Spirit?” It was fortunate she was so taken up with making him miserable, or she might have guessed the real reason for his sudden guardedness. 

“No doubt one of those hulking guards that was always tagging along after her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was her lover into the bargain, he seemed so worried for her safety...” She sensed a weakness, but not the right one, and she grinned. “Have I hit a nerve?” 

“Just leave me alone.” 

At the time, the barb in Azula's words had buzzed at him like a whole swarm of mosquitoes, but now in the quiet of his office, they took on a new, more practical meaning: his identity as the Blue Spirit was still safe. 

With his heartbeat rising, he rose and crossed to the bureau in the corner, the one Katara had broken into on the night she raided his office. The royal locksmith had had to completely replace the mechanism in the door, but the damage done meant it stuck when it opened, and Zuko yanked it a little harder than he probably should have to get at the contents within. After a moment or two of rummaging, he found the small stack of letters he had stashed for safe keeping, all signed with her name in flowing, elegant script. Katara. 

A scrap of paper dropped out of the bureau as he picked up the letters. It was his sketch of her, an absent doodle painted as he imagined her in Fire Nation red, feeding turtleducks with the sun caught in the copper sheen of her hair. She had lied to him, betrayed him – but could it really be called a betrayal? He knew what it was to hide his true self for the sake of survival, to wrap his misgivings around in a blanket of cold aloofness so they could not be used against him. The only difference between them was that she had acted, she had envisioned change and reached out for it with her own hands, while he was left playing a hero to justify his own inaction. After everything she had seen, everything done to her people, she could have ignored the plight of the common folk in the wards and been forgiven for her indifference. Yet she had healed them, and stolen rice for them, even saved them from an inferno, and despite this generosity he still couldn’t reconcile his anger with the ache of never seeing her again, except across a battlefield. 

He smelled smoke; the sketch in his hands was burning. With a curse, he dropped her letters and smothered the eager flames with his sleeve. How many years had it been since he lost control of his bending like that?   

“Zuko.” 

He turned at the sound of his mother's voice to find her standing in the doorway, serene as ever, though her eyes were grave. He looked away. 

“What are you going to do?” she asked. 

His mind whirled with the question. What even could he do? He might sneak away, try to reach Katara before Azula found her, but what would be the point? Would he arrest her? Bring her back in irons to face his father's justice? He could imagine the fairness of a trial for someone accused of being an enemy of the state, who had dared made the Fire Lord into a fool. 

Zuko frowned down at the paper still smouldering between his fingers. “She stood up for Haku when they arrested him,” he ground out. “That boy Azula accused of being the Blue Spirit. And if even half the stories about her are true, she's done so much, helped so many people.” An image flashed in his mind of Katara, dwarfed by a towering wall of flame, not caring who saw as she threw up a barrier of ice to protect the very people who had made the munitions that destroyed her home. 

 “But she lied to you,” his mother surmised. “And you don’t know what you’ll do if you face her again.” There was no disapproval in the words, no accusation of cowardice, but Zuko felt the bite nonetheless.  

His shoulders slumped. “I know where she’s going. If I can trace her route... maybe I can get to her before Azula does.” She had saved him from the soldiers in the square, and before that when the royal guard surrounded them in his office; he would be truly without honour if such a debt went unrepaid.

Seeing the final dregs of his hesitation, Ursa glided forward in a rustle of silk and pulled him down into a hug so quickly that for a moment he stood there, cold, mind too numbed with shock to react. Then, like the first halting drops of a thunderstorm, the careful barriers of protocol built up over years gave way to the childish, tempestuous need to be held, and Zuko dropped his head against his mother’s shoulder and clung to the silk of her robes, so tightly it warped the fabric.

“I know you’ll do the right thing,” she murmured into his hair. “You’ve come so far, and I am so, so proud of you.”

“I haven’t done anything,” he protested. “I used to think –” A shudder wracked through his body. What had he thought? What was the Blue Spirit really, but some kind of petty rebellion turned into a symbol to spite his father? All the nights running around playing a hero never meant anything until she swept into his life like a new tide and opened his eyes to how things could change. He swallowed. “What would I do if I found her?”

With one last squeeze, Ursa stepped back and framed his face between her hands. “I think only you can answer that.” 

He planned for the rest of the day. Maps and charts of the Fire Nation archipelago scattered about his desk, beneath sheets of notes and calculations riddled with crossings-out and second guesses about how much the Water Tribe knew of the Navy’s movements. Katara, for her part, was a harder piece to predict. She had a day’s head start on him, but she was travelling weighed down with an entourage, and given the furore that had been raised at her disappearance she might not dare to travel during daylight hours. A servant came with a tray of food around mid-afternoon and he scoffed the portion of rice and meat with only the barest decorum before going back to his task, desperate now to speed the sun in its slow arc across the sky.

As soon as possible without rousing suspicion, he burned the papers he had spent the afternoon poring over and retreated to his rooms. The Blue Spirit mask and his liangdao were still stashed under the gable of the teahouse in the lower city, but he took the black silk from its hiding place at the bottom of his private trunk and put them on and stuffed a few extras into the hidden lining, before settling his daytime clothes back over the top. His father would be watching him too closely to safely get out of the palace by stealth, but there were other, more brazen methods to get where he wanted.

He rang the bell that called his valet to him.

“Tell the stable master to get an eel-hound ready for an excursion into the city,” he commanded, pretending to read through a report that had been left on his dresser.

The valet wrung his hands. “Your Highness, I’m afraid His Majesty ordered that you were not to –”

“Why doesn’t my father just put me on a leash and be done with it?” The outburst was delivered in an irritated snap, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the servant’s flinch, not when what he was about to do might be interpreted as treason. “If you must, have the guards alerted to provide an escort, and if you won’t do that, then I will find someone who will.”

The valet stuttered an apology and hurried away with the overbearing humility that had been trained into him, and within half an hour Zuko was riding down into the wards, his hands sweaty on the reins, with two of the royal guard flanking him on their own mounts so that people hurried out of the way. Every moment took Katara further and further away, but he held himself back, played the aloof prince as his escort ordered some hapless passerby to give them directions to the site of the Painted Lady’s last appearance.

The square had been cleared of people, but the debris remained. The torn paper dragon glared at Zuko as he dismounted, but his glance slid past it to the rooftop where he and Katara had fought Jet only the night before.

Did she have any idea it was me under the mask? Would she have cared?

Next to him, the guards stood close together, darting nervous glances into the shadows that told him they hadn’t been this far down into the city in their lives. They had been sent out to watch him, but they were in unfamiliar terrain, at night, following rumours about spirits, and all would be advantagous in helping him enact his plan.

“Well?” he barked. They jumped. “Are you going to just stand there like a pair of hippo-cows or are you going to make yourselves useful?”

The pair glanced at each other. “Uh… how can we help, Your Highness?”

“Something doesn’t sit right with me about the reports from this incident. We’re here to look for evidence about what really happened.”

“Evidence, Highness?”

Zuko made an impatient noise and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anything to prove the blast origin and nature of the explosion. I trust I don’t have to spell it out for you?”

Wary of his tone, the two guards nodded.

“Check over there.”

He watched them out of the corner of his eye. They were a diligent pair, and dutiful, and as time passed their nervousness faded, and they became so engrossed in their examination of scorch marks on a wall that they didn’t see him edging further away. With the steps of his plan firmly in his mind, Zuko slipped a pair of smoke bombs out from the lining of his coat.

“Did you see that?” he asked the guards.

“See what?”

“Up there.” He pointed. “It looked like a figure. It was just for a second, I saw it against the lantern lights.”

“On the roof?”

“Could be the Blue Spirit.”

The pair raised their weapons, the faint jingle of their spear-rings a counterpoint to the sudden stillness in the square as they advanced, intent.

Zuko backed further away, measured his distance to the end of the alley where he could climb up to the roof and escape. Just one more step…

He threw the first of the smoke bombs. Where it struck the wall, a cloud of noxious gas bloomed and engulfed the guards, making them cough. The spluttered, stumbling, but before they could get their bearings Zuko hurled a spark over to the crumpled dragon, which caught in an instant and ignited in a roar of air.

“What the –”

The second smoke bomb flew from his hands. It landed in the middle of the square and exploded.

“Prince Zuko!”

He let loose a blast of fire, in an arc, like he was defending against an enemy. “The Blue Spirit! Don’t just stand there, he’s –”

“Prince Zuko!”

He sprinted down the alley and up the wall at the end, taking to the roof just in time to glance back and see his escort clear the bank of smoke, coughing but determined to find him. Crouching down out of the glare from the flaming dragon, he eased off one of his boots and dropped it on the ground. The guards would come to their own conclusions about what had happened, but he doubted they would willingly consider the idea that he had abducted himself. They advanced down the alley, calling for him, but he didn’t linger. His gear was hidden three streets away, and from there it would take him a good hour to get down to the base of the crater and find a boat. There were small fishing vessels moored on the southern rim, perfect for coastal travel, and he could hide his clothes in one of the shacks nearby.

When he reached the shore, he stripped off his outer layer and tore it at the seams, before taking one of the liangdao to his bare arm and making a light cut so blood spattered over the fabric. Part of him wondered why he was going to such lengths when he meant to bring Katara back as a prisoner, but the other, wiser side of his mind that spoke with his uncle’s voice reminded him that preparedness is never truly wasted.

It took him hours more to find the Water Tribe. They had harboured in a sheltered bay almost at the southernmost tip of the main island, overlooked on three sides by steep mountains and by shallow, treacherous shoals on the fourth. It was a risky strategy, as the vessels’ deep keels meant they were trapped until high tide, but the reefs that kept them in had treacherous currents that kept smaller boats away – Zuko himself had had to come ashore at an inlet further north and trek around the headland to find them.

Certain of his hiding place, he lifted the Blue Spirit mask away from his face and waited. Moonlight glanced off sails and a small gathering of people on a white-sand beach. Some – the ones descending from the moored ships – were clad in the bone scale mail the Water Tribe guards had been wearing in the throne room all those months ago, and they came forward eagerly to greet Katara’s people where they waited just shy of the tree line. She stood at the front, her long hair blown about by the night wind, and Zuko heard her voice as she recognised someone from among the group that had come to greet her.

A young man stepped forward, gangly even at a distance, but at his first halting approach, Katara let out an impatient cry and leapt towards him, and suddenly the pair were laughing, spinning each other in an embrace that was looked on with fondness by the rest of their people.

So she does have a lover then. Zuko’s hand balled into a fist on his knee, so tightly the surrounding plants wilted away from the heat. And I was a fool.

Rage churned in his stomach as Katara and the stranger parted, arms still around each other, then bent their foreheads close enough to touch, in a gesture so full of casual affection it felt like a rock-punch to the gut. She had never been so open with him.

And yet he couldn’t turn his gaze away. With a few muttered words between them, the stranger pulled something out of a pouch on his hip and handed it to her. From her posture, Zuko could tell the gift was unexpected, and she was hesitant to take it, but after an instant her whole stance changed and she held the item – a necklace – up to the moonlight to better examine it. She said something and the man laughed, and the rest seemed to take that as the signal to depart. Within moments the soldiers gathered the baggage packed on the shore and hauled it up the gangplanks, with Katara’s retinue following close behind. The decks were a hive of activity, but with still hours left to go until high tide, they were stuck.

But Zuko knew where they were going. He could feel the first pull of the sun on the edge of the horizon as he slipped back along the shore to where his boat lay hidden, and it stoked the anger still lashing at his insides. As he climbed in and cranked the motor into life, his mind narrowed to a single focus: he would get to the waterbender prison first and warn the governor that the Southern Water Tribe was coming.

On the deck of the flagship, Katara heard the whir of a distant engine, but it sounded like a small craft and it was still too dark to see. Although worry gnawed at her for exposing the fleet in such an obvious manner, there had been little choice after the fire and then the explosion that had revealed her as a waterbender. She had to believe the sacrifices were worth it.

“What about Dad?” she had asked on the beach. “Our people?”

“We got word to them – they attacked the Southern Raiders before the hotheads even realised what was happening, just as we planned.”

They would vanish into the tundra now, scatter like wind-blown snow to evade the vengeful force Ozai would no doubt send, and they would survive the winter. The plan now had changed. With her cover blown, she was no longer in a place to strike at the heart of the Fire Nation’s empire, but they had allies in the Earth Kingdom and beyond, and hope still lay in that direction.

A pair of dawn gulls wheeled overhead. Katara’s thoughts turned to Zuko, and what he must think of her now. She had lied to him, and used him as a shield, and then left without a word of explanation. The sea-wolf teeth still cradled in her hands dug into her palms, the bite grounding her after so long so far away from home. They were new, a replacement for the ceremonial band that was lost in the fall of the South, and she clung to the new path it represented. She was tired of having to hide who she was.

“Hey, sis,” a voice called from the other side of the deck. “You alright?”

She turned away from her view of the shore and tucked the sea-wolf teeth into an inner fold of her cloak. “That depends, Sokka – do we have any sea prunes?”