Tumgik
#-to see that as well so i dont wanna take that win away but strengthen it by sneaking its presence into just about every culture
spotsupstuff · 9 months
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Do any cultures in your au not believe in reincarnation?
🤔,,,
most likely all of them do as a result of the Global Religion's colonization. or because of the respawn mechanic which is undeniable- from there it is pretty easy to segway into the idea of reincarnation, combined with the fact that individual with high enlightenment/karma have very strong deja vus/visions of their past lives
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justice4harwin · 3 years
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Light’s Corruption- Chapter V
Pairing: The DarklingxAlina
Summary:With few friends at the Little Palace, Alina must work to win the favour of her fellow grisha and their commander, who makes her feel light headed every time she sees him.
After training in Os Alta for two years, the king grows tired of waiting and demands the Sun Summoner joins a western post near the Fjerdan border along with the rest of The Second Army to test her abilities.
Something happens. Suddenly, Alina wants blood to run down the rivers and those who stand in her and The Darkling’s way will be blinded by her light and swallowed by his shadows.
It won’t be pretty
Rating: 18+
Click here for chapter 4
As usual, tags are in the comments. If you dont wanna be tagged, dont be afraid to let me know. If you wanna be tagged, let me know too. I dont bite...anymore lmao
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Chapter 5: Heartrenders
Days went by, and they turned into weeks. The leaves fell off the trees, a crunchy sea of red, orange, yellow and brown, and Alina wanted to pile them all on and throw herself inside.
She'd do it the first chance she got, but for that she had to beat the gardeners before they took the piles and burnt them to depressing ashes.
She talked to Michail some more during they rounds around the lake and had her rematch with Natasha.
She lost. Again. She laughed it off. Again. Natasha said she hadn't been so easy to defeat that second time, to which Alina smiled almost genuinely. Progress.
Baghra refused to see her still, and Alina was too proud to go back to her, so she tried to practice on her own. She'd hide away on the far sides of the gardens where the other grisha rarely went to and try to gain more control. It was a slow process; the temptation to let her power run free and vast was always there and trying to tame that always left her exhausted. She had no trouble falling asleep, yet each day the bags underneath her eyes seemed to deepen, as did her appetite. Alina was pretty sure that summoning should be for the better, but more than once, she had thoroughly considered laying down on the cold grass and take a nap there instead of walking all the way back to the Little Palace.
The General wasn't back yet, and much to Alina's confusion, frustration and shame, she worried. Maybe that too had something to do with the bags underneath her eyes. She tended to dream of him in all kinds of scenarios, each less pleasant than the last. It made her wake up sweaty and choking for air.
More than once, she almost wrote to him, only if just to make sure he was alright. But he had to be. Otherwise, word would've spread quickly…right?
She always talked herself out of it though. His presence was missed, her mind was making up all kind of tricks to make her reach out to him like a pathetic girl begging for attention.
The thought reminded her of Baghra's opinion of her, which only strengthened her resolve to not write to him.
She had had enough of begging, enough of getting scrapes of affection from a man who hadn't even bother to write once; she wouldn't do it again, no matter how much her heart tried to pull her to him.
But then her eyes would drift back to the black, shadow rose that laid on her nightstand, the little bit of gold on its inside long dead, and her heart would race and some form of reassurance would fall gently over her, like a blanket shielding her body.
She'd reach out and take it in her hands. It had no thorns. Her fingers would run through its petals, as soft as those of a real rose, but with something deeper in there. There was something more alive inside that rose than in any flower in all of Ravka; it was deep, powerful, and dark. It scared and alluded to her in the same measure, and she'd stare at it fascinated for an unfathomable long time.
She wondered if The Darkling could feel her caressing his shadows; and how he'd feel about it.
Besides Michail and Natasha, Alina didn’t seem to be progressing very much. They exchanged niceties and some jokes, even paired up during training, but there was not much more to it.
She told herself to be patient. These things took time.
One early afternoon, Genya showed up on her room unannounced. Alina hurried to hide her rose inside her nightstand; she wasn't sure why, but she wanted it to be her little secret.
"The Queen just left Os Alta." the redhead smiled. "As did the king. They'll be gone for two days on a hunting trip."
"A hunting trip?"
"Yes, where they kill animals for the fun of it. Like one of those brutish size competitions men seem to like so much."
Alina snorted.
"So?"
"So…"there was a gleam to her friend's eyes, and the summoner leaned back and frowned slightly, almost scared. "I could sneak you into the Grand Palace and into Her Royal Bitch's wardrobe."
"We'll get in trouble, Gen."
"Oh, please; have some faith in me." she placed her elbows on the desk and her chin atop of her hands, almost looking angelic. "Do you really think I'd get you in trouble?"
"Yes."
"Well, then you're wrong." she straightened up and tugged on Alina's arm. "C'mon; there's so many gowns and habits: she rarely wears them twice. We're not stealing; no one will know."
"How many gowns?" she asked, genuinely curious. She had seen the queen on two official occasions, the first time when she arrived from the camps near Kribirsk, and the second when she was invited to her ridiculous tea parade. Still, she had seen her in passing a few times as she strolled the grounds. A part of Alina felt ashamed of the jealousy she felt upon seeing her beautiful clothes and jewels.
There she was, living in a palace, wearing a kefta and being pampered, yet she dared to want more.
"Hundreds!" the Tailor whispered excitedly. "And they'll look much better on us anyway."
She gave in a little to temptation. They would just try them on and leave them again. No one would know, and maybe she'd be satisfied then.
"Alright, alright. But we better not get caught."
"Don't worry, we won't."
They left the bedroom and ran down the stairs, Genya holding onto the blue sleeve of her friend as she rambled about all the different fabrics and patterns and accessories while Alina tried to keep up with her, listening to every word while watching her step. The last thing she needed was to trip down the stairs.
That'd be a sad way to go for her.
"You'll love it. I promise!" Genya turned to give her a smile, but Alina's eyes drifted to the looming figure appearing in her line of vision.
The Darkling walked into the Little Palace accompanied by Ivan, Fedyor and a third heartrender.
It was a woman, a little bit older than Alina probably, but only for a few years. She was tall, with long, brown hair cascading down her back. Her kefta, which hugged her rounded figure nicely, gave her away as a fellow heartrender.
The Darkling noticed them approaching. Alina tried to search something in his eyes, anything that gave away any sort of emotion that could cause in him to see her again, but she saw nothing but his usual coolness.
The Summoner and the Tailor came to a stop and bowed.
"Moi Soverennyi." they bowed respectfully.
"Miss Starkov, Miss Safin; it has been some time." he looked from one to the other. "May I inquire as to your present activities?"
"Nothing we're not supposed to do." Alina spat out, earning herself a dainty elbow to the ribs.
General Kirigan rose an eyebrow.
"I see. See to it that it stays that way."
"Of course, sir." spoke Genya, serious all of a sudden.
The man turned and contemplated the strange woman for a moment, then gestured at Alina with a gloved hand.
"This is Alina Starkov, our Sun Summoner." he looked at her, those pools of grey catching her breath. "Miss Starkov, may I introduce you to Nina Zenik. She is one of my best agents and has just recently returned from an assignment in Shu Han."
The woman's green eyes settled on Alina, taking her in. Something glittered in there.
"So, she is real after all."
"Would I lie to you?" was The Darkling's reply.
"You forgot to mention how pretty she is." Nina ignored him, taking a long, stealth step towards her and catching a tendril of Alina's dark hair in her fingers.
"Um, it's a pleasure to meet you." The Sun Summoner managed to say, nervous under the woman scrutiny.
"Oh, a pleasure indeed, sun bean." Nina smiled, amusement shining in her eyes as Alina's face heated up. "I can't wait to make your acquaintance."
Before Alina could even think of an answer -for the woman's pretty eyes were too distracting- The Darkling cleared his throat.
"Not for some time, I am afraid." he said. Alina finally turned her gaze to him. There was something dark and intense in the way he was staring at Nina's back, his jaw tense. "Miss Starkov has quite the busy schedule."
Alina felt Genya tensing beside her. Nina's eyes slid momentarily, as if she could see The Darkling behind her, and nodded, winking at her before receding.
"Certainly. I can only imagine." she turned a charming smile on him. "Should we discuss my mission in private?"
"Of course." he answered almost, almost too quickly. He made a gesture for her to go in first.
"See you around, sun bean."
Alina choked on her own saliva as she struggled to say her farewell.
Ivan left with them without even glancing in their direction; Fedyor was kind enough to give them each a courteous smile.
Genya was giggling like an idiot.
"Shut up."
Now she was laughing. 
During their training one day, Alina decided to pair up with her. Many grisha gave her a myriad of odd looks, and for a moment, Alina feared she might be about to face another Zoya.
Nina seemed to not to notice them and beckoned her forward.
People seemed to like Nina, Alina observed. The woman had charm and wit; the Sun Summoner really had to try to not get jealous of those traits. She reminded herself that Nina had been at the Little Palace for years, not one season and a half.
They circled each other, taking their measures.
Alina didn't want to be the one to strike first. That always had seemed to go wrong thus far, so she waited.
The heartrender went to the left, so Alina turned, only to be tricked as she received a blow on her right. She winced and stood back, more alert. She didn't want to make a ridicule again.
"You're small and skinny." the heartrender whispered. Alina arched an eyebrow. "I'm bigger and stronger, so your best option is to tire me out."
"I'm not exactly the fastest person."
Nina threw a punch and, luckily, Alina blocked it successfully.
She shook her head.
"Speed and resistance don't need to go hand in hand."
Alina didn't dare to look around to see if anyone else could hear them. She hoped not. Botkin would most certainly disapprove of his students giving each other advice on how to defeat them.
So, with Nina's words in mind, Alina did her best to block and recede. She tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to punch and kick, and received a wince and an "ouch" as Nina rubbed her calf.
The Summoner could feel everyone still watching, Marie and Nadia cheering her on; Sergei and Michail more reserved since she was fighting a fellow red sporter.
Then, Alina caught a glimpse. It was a second, and before she even knew it, she was taking a chance.
Nina was placing her foot down, twisting it as if to test it, and the next she was laying on her back, Alina having all but hurled herself at the woman, grabbing her middle section with all her strength and pushing.
They landed on the ground, and in the disbelief, the Summoner almost forgot to fully immobilize her opponent the way Botkin had taught her.
"You know," Nina gasped, the breath having abandoned her lungs. "There's better ways to get on top of me, sun bean, but if you like it rough-"
Alina blushed in embarrassment, both for having potentially hurt her and for the path those words were leading to.
"Are you alright?" she interrupted hurriedly. "Did I hurt you?"
Nina tried to laugh and cried instead.
"Shit, sun bean. You do have some strength in that tiny body after all."
"Alright!" Botkin clapped his hands twice, coming over toward them. "The little girl wins again, …finally."
Alina was almost offended. At least Marie and Nadia were cheering, as were some others Etherealki. She noticed Sergei and Michail exchanging some coins and scowled.
"Healer." she called, and one hurried to Nina's side.
"It's just a broken rib." the woman said, setting herself to work.
Nina raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I'm impressed, sun bean. I didn't actually think you'd win."
Alina found a new hiding spot where to practice her summoning. It was a most secluded corner, surrounded by old trees, an unkept stone bench and a dirty sculpture of a woman.
She really wanted to be offended.
With eyes wide, she forgot all about her practice, raced and jumped in, laughing childishly to herself.
She looked up and took in the warmth of the sun with pleasure, her face basking in it as her hands ran through leaves and sticks. It was actually a little uncomfortable, but fun.
She almost wished she could sink in and stay there forever, with the sun warming her body and the crunchy leaves all around her.
There was a big pile of leaves.
"Did you fall?"
A shadow took the light from her face, and she found The Darkling standing over her, looking down with something akin to curiosity.
"No. I just jumped."
"Into a pile of dirt?"
"It's not dirt. Besides, it's fun!" she extended a hand. "Wanna try?"
He huffed. Her cheeks heated up. She should've known better.
He took her hand and pulled her up, the mere contact making everything about him feel more intense as usual.
She held onto him.
"How did you find me?"
"You are my Sun Summoner; did you really think I would let you wander about the palace grounds unguarded?"
"Do you have me followed?" she had never noticed.
"For your safety."
"I thought this was the safest place in all of Ravka."
"I am not taking any chances with you, Alina." he replied, eyes guarded, face soft.
"Well, I've never noticed them."
"It means they are doing a good job. I would not want you to live scared, looking over your shoulder all the time."
"I might as well start now that I know."
He opened his mouth and then closed it, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. Alina wondered if he noticed what he was doing.
"You are right." he stepped closer, pulling a leaf off her hair. "But you need not fear, especially while I am on the palace grounds."
"Because not even the dumbest drüskelle would dare to cross paths with you?"
"Nor would the boldest noble."
Alina frowned. The nobles of Os Alta?
She nodded slowly.
"I have scared you." he stated, studying her face. "I apologize."
"No, no." she let go of his hand. "You just made me wearier."
"That is just how life at court is." he offered, not unkindly. "This is not just an army sometimes, especially for you and I."
Alina looked at him, questioning.
"There is no one else like us, Alina." he said, approaching her once more. The calmness, the facts were gone, replaced by a fire she wanted to step into. The vehemence in his voice made her shiver and want to take refuge in his cloak. "There never will be."
She thought about it. What exactly did he mean by that?
He reached out again and plucked another leaf from her hair, then took her face in his hands. She tilted her head up, desperate for a look into those eyes.
Her heart drummed on her ribcage, wanting to break free.
"I-" words failed her as he studied her face, like she was something unique he wanted to memorize.
His thumb ran over her lips, and she exhaled heavily at the feel.
"I forgot what I came here to tell you." he whispered in confidence, his eyes on her parted lips.
"I don't care."
One of his hands left her face and wrapped around her waist, pressing her against his hard chest. Alina almost gasped, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, hiding the conflict she had briefly witnessed there.
Alina made a choice.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
He reciprocated immediately, holding her tighter and pushing his tongue inside her mouth, demanding a dominance she was more than willing to give him.
She had been kissed, but never like this. It was a first kiss that felt like the last; its intensity so beautifully crushing and chaotic. It was like he was a missing part of her, long searched for and finally found. It was like she was the most precious, addictive treasure, something to be cherished and corrupted at the same time.
Alina was willing to let him do as he wanted with her.
Her hands pulled at his hair, earning a growl. Their eyes met briefly, the desire in them fighting to see whose was grander, before kissing again.
It was like he wanted to pull her closer still, the barrier of clothes too much. Something told Alina that the lack of them wouldn't satisfy either of them anyways.
He kissed her jaw, travelling his way up to her earlobe.
"You make me weak." he whispered harshly, only to proceed to ravish the parts of her neck that were exposed.
"You make me strong." she answered, craning her neck to give him better access.
Growling, he gave her ass a hard squeeze and pushed her back against a tree. She could feel the tug and crunches of the leaves as he buried his hands in her hair but didn't care.
She wanted more.
And more.
She drew his lips back to hers. He reached for the belt which held her kefta closed.
"Sir!"
The next thing Alina knew was that she was standing against a tree, her back aching and her body cold, yet her face hot.
She looked at The Darkling, who seemed almost unperturbed as he smoothly fixed his hair and clothes, standing at a respectable distance from her.
Ivan appeared, seeming to be in a hurry.
Alina narrowed her eyes at him. As if she didn't dislike him enough already, the little shit.
"Moi Soverennyi, you are needed in the king's counsel immediately."
"Tell that grump I shall be there shortly."
Ivan bowed and left, not even acknowledging Alina's presence.
The Darkling cleared his throat. She turned her dark gaze on him, cheeks burning against the cold air, lips probably bruised.
What had just happened?
She wasn't sure, but she wanted to do it again. The Darkling, on the other hand, remained stoic as he stared into her eyes, as if nothing had occurred between them.
"I understand that you have been training on your own;" he said, as if he were talking to any other grisha, ever polite and smooth, voice reassuring yet commanding." I shall speak to Baghra so you may return to your lessons."
"But I don't wann-"
With him gone, the early winter sun felt cold.
"Miss Starkov." he bowed to her respectfully and marched away, disappearing from view within seconds.
Click here for chapter 6
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Note
Hiya!! Caroline Forbes for the character game, if you would be so inclined.
I am so so sorry I'm so late to this ask, but I'm hoping better late than never :) [like seriously I’m answering this a month late I am sooooo sorry!!]
First impression
My first impression of Caroline was during that scene at the grill, when she was drunk and like "I try so hard and nobody goes for me, nobody wants me, everything is a competition and I try so hard and NEVER win" to bonnie, and honestly calling myself out here, but I hated her in that moment simply bc I could see wayyyyy too much of myself in her, and I felt sort of vulnerable seeing such a blatant reflection of my deepest insecurities just sitting there in front of my eyes, but at that moment I wasnt looking to self reflect or read into it too deeply [I was there for mindless cheap entertainment] so my first basic impression I believe was to absolutely scoff at her, and I was like, I already dont like this chick, but also I was expecting her to be sort of a watered down regina george character, bc that's how they introduced her in terms of how she behaves w elena, she was supposed to be the shallow passive aggressive vapid bitch who's friendship is performative at best and toxic at worst, the way she treats Bonnie as a convenient sound board and replaceable company did not go unnoticed by me, these parts I can say I did not relate to, however I saw them for what they are, which is the makings of a headbitch mean girl who's imminent “untimely” death will not be mourned so much as alluded to constantly as a warning call and/or a cautionary tale for all the nameless dangers that are lurking in their godforsaken town, basically I expected her to die as a plot-pusher and then her death + the aftermath would've served as a convenient point of mild conflict between stelena to you know add to the "forbideness" of their relationship, so at this point all my first impressions were exactly what the writer's intended and honestly I was just waiting for her to die since it was clearly just a matter of time before that happened, but at the same time, I might not have been completely aware of this during that period of time, but the grill scene struck a chord with me and stayed with me quietly for a very long time, months later after reading several ffs and metas I can pinpoint that I was basically stuck between finding solidarity w Caroline in having the same insecurities as the character, and hating the fact that I had those insecurities at all to begin w and how vividly they were shown to me through Caroline without any restraint or cushioning.
So yeah you could say her character itself left me both vulnerable and seen at the same time so it was an odd mix of finding comfort and empathizing with this fictional character, but predominantly I was feeling.....agitated and hiding away from the truth that she represented to me; these two opposing feelings conflicted with one another constantly leaving me in a place where I mostly did not know if I liked her at all and if I didnt like her was it because she was written to be a mildly irritating side character [that I couldnt be bothered to emotionally invest in] or just because I saw too much of myself, especially the parts of me I dont particularly care for, in her to ever like her.
So yeah on one side I could say I wasnt deeply bothered [in a good or a bad way] by her, and only in passing acknowledged her to be the plot-convenient side character she was in the very beginning, but on the other hand, I somehow latently knew that it was so much more than that, and I am so so glad it was in fact the latter of the two that was true.
Impression now
Listen my impression of her now, cannot be encapsulated into a well thought out explanation of why I think so and so of her and how it affects me, but I think personally right now if you ask me what I think of Caroline, I would say I see her and I think, 
Oh I....know you, I see you everyday when I think about the kind of growth I want to have, I see myself in your past and while you may have grown I havent, but I can see it’s possible, however fictional and non-existent you are, if it’s possible for you, it’s possible for me.
[Also I just wanna add here, that in no way am I, at this moment, referring to canon!caroline directly but I am strictly thinking of the Caroline I have built in my head and the growth I projected onto her when I saw her transition from vapid blonde shallow bitchy human [and here’s the thing she wasnt vapid or shallow even in her human days but the insecurities still made her feel that way] to confident, painfully real, optimistic, loyal and so overflowingly full of love-vampire who has forgiven her past self but also loves her past self because no one thought she was worth that but Caroline Forbes thinks 16 year old Human Caroline Forbes deserves just as much love as Vampire Caroline Forbes and if no one else is brave enough, real enough to give that to her she will give it to her herself, Which to me is beautiful and resonates so deeply with me and that is exactly what I would say is my current impression of her; A girl so full of love and light, even her own shadow self cannot escape it.]
Favorite moment
Every moment she beats up a guy is my favourite moment and every time she insults Klaus with a smile on her face is also my favourite moment.
Idea for a story
Ok so I’ve had this idea brewing in my head for a while and I’m really excited to make it into an extensive multichap work when I do get the time, but you know how in Legacies [gag] there’s this episode where in an alternative universe where Hope doesnt exist at all, Caroline and Klaus are the cutest Enemies of the State couple to ever exist and they both are basically fucking shit up to the point where the humans wanna end the supernatural world as they know it, in legacies the reason behind the supernatural uprising was something unnecessarily sordid and stupid but I am basically thinking of something else but will lead to the same alternate universe we see in legacies, the basic premise rn is that  Klaus and Caroline are the Supreme leaders of the supernatural community and are leading them against the humans in this war that has broken out all over the world in a bid to end the supernatural world altogether, and I kind of have it outlined to take them from However Long it Takes my Last Love to let’s discuss our next strategy to over throw all opposing world governments on this table and then proceed to fuck on it.
So yeah I kinda wanna say stay tuned for that, but I wont cuz seriously I have no faith in myself lmao.
Unpopular opinion
As much as I love to criticize other characters [mostly Elena] for being hypocritical twats regarding Caroline’s choices, Caroline herself is a hypocrite multiple times through out canon, but I myself find that I am ok with that, since I never expected her to be perfect and her hypocrisy only makes her more real in my eyes since every time she is a hypocrite she is called out on it and made to face her own double standard.
Favorite relationship
I wanna say Klaus, like seriously I really really do,  but for me personally the relationship my Vampire!Caroline has with her past human self will always be the most beautiful enriching and hope giving thing.
That and also her relationship with her mom and how it finds this transformation from a place where they constantly hurt each other and are estranged from each other to a place where they try so hard to understand and love each other and finding the other to be an unmovable pillar in their life that strengthens and holds them up also resonates with me deeply.
Favorite headcanon
This one
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oh-theatre · 4 years
Text
Livin’ It Up: Chapter 3
Chapter title: Its All Coming Back To Me Now
A/N: New, bad, sorry. Comment? Sorry for short, important.
words: 1340
summary: return 
pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual Moceit (Which then goes back to Logicality and Demus)
warnings: Swearing, alcohol, underage drinking, drinking, parties, kissing, throw up, slight self harm, emotional abuse
Ao3 Link  
“Ugh of course he did” Virgil sighs, throwing his journal across the room. Patton giggles still scribbling away at his homework. Virgil sits up, rubbing the nape of his neck with sympathy in his eyes. “Im sorry Pat, i know you wanted...not that”
“Hey its ok! I gave it a shot, plus the night I had was fun” Patton admits, he shrugs away his thoughts but finds himself doodling in the corner of his calculus work. “This is pointless” He shut his book away, returning it neatly to its spot on his desk. “My brain cant focus” He threw his eraser towards Virgil “Tell me about Roman” He smirks.
“Ok look nothings happened since the party” Virgil tells, and Patton listens, well until Virgil begins to ramble about their theatre project. His mind was in too many places at once, and he loved Virgil but once his gushing ended and his worries set in, Patton couldn't focus. His mind wandered to that fateful night, under the amber lights of a bustling evening.
“But they're so sticky” Logan scrunched his face, watching Patton thank the shop tender for his caramel apple. Patton rolls his eyes with a playful smile.
“Delicious is the word you're looking for” He corrects, Logan still doubtful. “Come on, take a bite” he offers, holding it up. Hesitant at first, Logan eyes it, was he examining the apple? Oh god, the way his glasses sat on his nose practically falling, Patton swears he could hear his heartbeat.
“Alright” He says, he holds his glasses, Patton strengthens his hold as Logan takes a bite out of the delectable treat. Logan's eyes quickly fly open, a surprise as he chews.
“Congrats Moreno! You're one of us common folk now” Patton teases, the wind ruffling both of their hair. Logan nods, taking yet another bite, Patotn didn't mind, he found the small chipmunk like chewing adorable. “Come on Simon, there's more to show you” He jokes, Logan takes his hand allowing the cheerleader to guide him. The apple was gone quickly but neither minded, it made their commute easier.
Patton had to wonder if Logan had ever been outside however, every little new thing sparked him, the bored robotic look in his eyes disappeared with a new flicker of excitement. Patton adored it. He grew fond of how Logan would fiddle with his fingers, it was soft.
“Just ignore them” Logan whispered as the pair walked towards a more quiet spot.
“Hm?” Patton hummed in response, a small skip as the gravel crackled below their feet.
“The girls and guys staring, just ignore them” And Patton had been. It was hard not to notice, each with daggers in their eyes but even if tonight was just a one time thing, or whatnot Patton was here to enjoy himself, enjoy the carnival he had spent weeks preparing and try something new. And it was nice, even if he did notice the winks Logan would throw out, the boredom as Patton chatted with people and the constant phone checking.
Its nice
It was nice
“So now im like i don't know! Should I dye my hair!” Virgil finishes, Patton coughs away his thoughts.
“I might have adhd but you can really go down a rabbit hole” Patton laughs, Virgil chuckles a flash of red on his cheeks. “Not a bad thing, and i think you should dye your hair if you want. No matter what you're gonna look great” Patton compliments. “Crap! We’re gonna be late” He checks his watch, morning homework sessions on monday were a usual. Except when they forget to actually get to school.
“Id say race you there but i dont wanna get there any faster than I have to” Virgil says, and with that they rush out the house.
~~~
“Does he have to looking so fucking cute” Logan spits, Roman stops his words instaly and looks to where an angry Logan glares.
“Uh Im sorry, imma need my friend back” Roman pokes, Logan turns to him, his eyebrows tightened. “Dude, what is going on with you” Roman questions, Logan slams the locker shut trying to distract himself from Patton and Virgil standing just a few steps down the hall at their own lockers. “Just a reminder that you-”
“Roman I am fully aware of what happened, I am also fully aware that the only reason Patton has not spoken to me is my own fault” Logan leans against the locker paralleling Romans pose. “However I am still infuriated that he looks that cute” Logan sighs. He wasn't wrong, even if Roman and Patton had their...issues he still knew his former friend. And Patton had an incredible eye for fashion.
And today was no exception. He wore a dropped shoulder cropped pullover, striped with white, pastel blue and pink, finished with a white collar. His light blue jeans sat comfortably on his legs cuffed at the bottom to show off his white sneakers. His belt was prominent and no mistake and his backpack slung over just one shoulder as he unpacked his belongings into his locker.
Objectively he was cute, but Roman was distracted by Virgil. He stood next to Patton talking away, his outfits always suited him and his defensive look only made Romans face flush more.
“Welp, you win some you lose some” Roman shrugs, patting his friend.
“I so appreciate the sentiment dear friend” Logan's sarcasm was not lost on Roman.
“Come on, you need some sushi in you” Roman takes his friend's shoulders, preparing to guide his friend towards the exit. Each has a free period that bleeds into lunch so why not take advantage?
~~~
“Is it bad that I want to wear Romans varsity jacket?” Virgil whispered as he darted his eyes away from the said jock who only stood a few feet away.
“No, it's adorable” Patton says, he organizes his things in his locker, ignoring as Logan and Roman begin to walk towards them. He knew rationally they were headed towards the exit but the small inkling of fear if they were to come up to him was still present. But quickly his mind was taken elsewhere with an abrupt cheer.
“One! Two! Three!” He hears, why was that voice so familiar? “Who missed me!”
“Janus!” Patton recognizes, he spins with unfiltered excitement rushing through the hall. Janus laughs as he sees his friend racing towards him wasting no time to wrap him in his arms and spin him quickly. Their embrace was pure elation, Virgil caught up to the pair with his own grin. They finally parted ignoring the crowd around them, specifically two boys who had decided sushi could wait.
“Buttercup!” He grins, Patton giggles delighted. He had missed Janus so much, and the sweet way the nickname fell only increased the buzz in his heart.
Someone else in the hall was not feeling the ecstatic energy. Logan glared his shoulders tightening under Romans hold. What was this envious sweat dripping from him as he watched Janus snake a respectful arm around Patton's waist, cupped to keep his gentlemans distance.
But Logan wasn't allowed to be mad
He saw Carly down the hall, she winked at him receiving a disgruntled scowl in return. He watched Brittany and Martin walk by him, each a flustered look.
And why should he care, he had the whole school, why did he need-
His thoughts were interrupted by the most intoxicating, sweetest sound to ever bless his ears. Pattons little giggle as he clutched to Janus for stability. He may have been seventeen but he towered over the boys, including Logan. Virgil seemed happy enough but Logan couldn't get over Patton. Patton stood blushing, his hand never left Janus’s side and he was...flashing the brightest smile.
Why did Logan want to be the one to cause that reaction
“Oh shut up moreno” He whispers to himself, swiping away from Romans grasps he shoots Martin a wink before making his way to lunch, a hesitant Roman followed.
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In Your Heartbeat (16/16)
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IN YOUR HEARTBEAT MASTERLIST
Pairing: Bucky/Reader, Natasha/Sister!Reader
Word Count: IT’S A LONG ONE, like 13k approx. Sorry.
Warnings: ... :) Nothing that hasn’t been common to previous parts of the story: mentions and descriptions of torture, death, and violence. And angst.
A/N: Last chapter, people! I hope you enjoy and...yeah. I’m sorry for my prolonged absence, but now I am here to stay (kinda).
Italicized bits are either (or and in some cases hehe) a memory, dream, or one of the futures the Reader sees. I tried to make it as clear as possible, if there’s something you don’t understand or seems confusing, don’t hesitate to let me know.
Taglist: @learisa @lixbean @quiessilva-meriff @miss-i-ship-it @221bbands @darkblueeyedperson @beansparker @fairislesheets @aunty-peggy @me-myself-and-i-4-the-win @checkintoreality @dontwintilligetthere @neuschwanstein
“The moment you put a gun in my hands I will shoot you, and if I can’t do that, I will shoot myself.” You snarl back, jaw clenched and fighting back impotent tears that rise in your eyes.
“We’ll see about that, girl.”
__
It’s been three weeks, and you have never stood on more unstable ground.
All you have done is train, and though Karpov holds a gun to the back of your head for most of the time, and guards follow you closely everywhere, no one has laid a hand on you.
But that’s all there has been to it, for almost three weeks. Wake up, train, report to Karpov, sleep, repeat.
Considering Hydra’s hierarchy, that you are awfully familiar with after years of running away or towards them, you cannot help but notice you are being treated not as a soldier, but as an officer. A high ranking one, at that.
Your quarters are on the farthest end of the facility, with full accommodations -aside form the comms that were ripped off the wall before you were brought in- and your bed is as soft as that in the compound.
There’s agents around you at all times, yes, but they are respectful and almost…fearful towards you. When soldiers are sent to train with you, training is all there is to it, no unnecessary brutality, no cruelty.
Despite your efforts to run away, despite the agents you have killed in the multiple attempts to get out; Karpov has remained patient, his men obedient and you…you are left terrified.
Karpov has managed to get you on a tight leash, without even lifting a finger.
You have tried escaping, of course you have.
You disarm the Colonel as he approaches, raising the gun to his head and smiling in triumph.
“I told you that you shouldn’t leave me near a gun.”
“Go ahead, shoot me. But do one thing for me first, see what you can see happening afterwards,” His voice is calm, too calm even, as he nods your way, “Use your powers, Y/N.”
You do, and the rush of images of blood and screams following Karpov’s death fill your mind, countless soldiers dead at your feet but never enough, your body being forced down and the sound of that damned machine that still stands in the middle of the containment area of the facility starting up fills your ears.
You drop the gun, but keep your eyes on Karpov, waiting for his move.
“I will not become your weapon.” You snarl as the guards ready themselves to escort you to your quarters. The Colonel merely smiles, with a confident and mocking smirk you know too well.
Too many times to count you have tried.
The sound of the knife swiftly leaving the holster wakes up the Colonel, and you hold back a smile as you watch the middle-aged man rise in bed.
You say nothing as you approach, knife in hand and aimed at his throat.
His big hand traps your forearm before you can do so, and Karpov brings his face close to your own.
“You will not. You are too good.”
“Oh, fuck you.” You spit back, adjusting your grip on the handle to strike, but you feel a thread strengthening suddenly, and reach for your energy to see what will happen.
You see yourself running away from the facility, quickly taking over a snow truck and reaching Kiev in a matter of days.
You see your eyes watching in horror at the screens on a train station: Black Widow, original member of the Avengers, rumored to have been sniped and killed while in Stark tower. Tony Stark imp-…
An enraged scream leaves your throat at the way Karpov has outplayed you again, and let go of the knife, but not before piercing his clavicle with it, embedding him on the bed.
And too many times you have failed.
So silent you remain, and you take on the training sessions, and you report your progress to the Colonel each night before going to sleep. And you go to your bed, close your eyes, wait for the facility to fall asleep, and sneak out.
You have studied the Winter Soldier book Karpov kept close to his heart for all these years. You have learnt about the practices in the facility more acutely in these last weeks than in over a year of researching Hydra’s Ghost.
The files on Project Cataclysm are impressive in on themselves too, although the development of the serum and its applications were merely Hydra stumbling in the dark, so no important data was found in the old files within Siberia’s underground base.
You have ten words memorized in your head, a dozen others meant for emergency reactions safe within your memory. You know Karpov will not meddle with it. Your memory, you mean. He has told you time and time again that he wants an agent, a voluntary one, not another Asset. Assets fall from grace, break programming, but someone loyal to the mission, even if not its ideals? They will handle Hydra the world once again.
Still, you know what this man is capable of, experienced it through the eyes of your soulmate one too many times; and you know that despite his claims to want you to be compliant by choice, there’s nothing stopping him from punishing you for your attempts on his life, or the lives of the agents you have cost him.
Yet, he doesn’t much as raise his voice at you. It scares you, and not because you fear Karpov himself, but because you know whatever makes him fear the repercussions of harm falling unto you is something out of nightmares.
A sharp pain spreads through your side when one of the soldiers tries bringing you back out of your thoughts and into the sparring session. You unsheathe a knife and throw it his way, letting it find a home in his thigh before he can even correct his stance.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“We are supposed to spar.” He growls out, taking out the bloodied knife and throwing it somewhere behind him. Your lips twist into a snarl as you approach him, already playing with another throwing knife between your fingers.
“Wanna spar? I bet you make a great bullseye.” You tease, easy smile on your lips as you see the man’s eyes fill with fear.
There’s a second too long, even as you back down and drop the act that has become too much like your own skin in these last weeks, where you see in him the fear that you will slice his throat open in the middle of the training ground.
His fear unsettles you much less than it should. But you try not to linger on it, Karpov’s guards are here, with their gazes set on you. A slip and he will know you are crumbling, and he can’t. Your only advantage over him is that you refuse to agree to his terms, bow down to his demands. You cannot allow him the satisfaction of seeing the monster take over the girl.
At least not until the time is right.
Your powers have been strengthened more than you thought possible, the futures you can see now, although maybe a little blurrier and more uncertain, go into the farther future. And you have felt, in snippets, broken edges that are slowly being pieced together, the way Siberia’s cold will graze your arms as you walk out free. That is enough to make you wait, to make you plan and weight the choices before jumping into battle.
That, and Karpov’s thinly veiled threats to your sister and your soulmate. He knows what he is doing, even if some sick part of him is still out for blood when it comes to you and Bucky for what you did decades ago, even if he still wants the Soldat at his feet.
So you grit your teeth and go through the motions, waiting for the crack in the Colonel’s armor, waiting for the day you can finally see his eyes dim with the just and unescapable touch of Death.
The man in question sits in front of you in his office, datapad on his hand as he scrolls through some file.
“Have your powers improved in any way?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Try seeing what I will do next, girl. And then ponder about lying to me again.”
You narrow your eyes with a scoff, but do it anyways, reaching for his energy and trying to feel the tangled tendrils of his intentions.
You are brought to the upper levels of the facility. The hissing sound of a cryo chamber opening scratching your ears.
They drag a blonde woman out. She is quickly restrained, but a few barked words in Russian make her stop trying to get free, make her eyes stop bubbling with that animal rage.
Her eyes set on you for a second, and she smiled, a terrifying turn of her lips as they twist on a silent growl rather than a smile, the same edge of Kseniya’s unhinged certainty shining in her clear eyes as she regards you.
“Она мягкая. И испугался. (She is soft. And scared.)” The woman sneers, but Karpov is quick to stop her on her tracks.
“Она также защищена.” (Protected too.)
“Но я хочу играть” (But I want to play.)
You blink past the images in your head, and stare at the Colonel with wide eyes.
“Are you putting me up against a Winter Soldier!?”
Karpov smiles, leaning back and regarding you with the rejoiced expression of someone with a winning hand.
“No. I’m sending her to New York.”
Live footage, right from the Soldier’s attached camera, shows her way into the compound, sneaking right into the heart of the facility. You are forced to stay still on the chair where they put you, watching with fearful eyes as the Russian Winter Soldier enters the compound.
Quickly placed bombs, set to detonate on her mark. She continues stalking the corridors. Wanda’s room is not even opened as the blonde shoots through the door and ends the Sokovian.
You choke down a sob, but tears are streaming down your eyes as you watch.
An alarm. Four soldiers standing in front of her. The recognition in Bucky’s eyes. The fear in Natalia’s.
Vibranium knife lodges right in the place where skin meets metal on Bucky’s arm. Before the blonde can move in for the kill, a redhead moves in, gun in hand and shield in the other.
“Where is my sister?”
“мертвый”
It is enough to stagger the Widow, the Soldier’s knife going right through her chest. Natalia’s mouth opens with a scream, but blood dribbling down her parted lips quickly quietens her voice.
The sound of your own gasping breaths brings you out of the future your powers provide, tears brimming in your eyes as you face Karpov with a mix of rage and pain.
“Now, tell me about your new limits in your powers, Y/N.” He states, cold and professional demeanor as he regards you with a glint of triumph in his tired and dead eyes.
You do, through gritted teeth and with bare minimum details, eyes defiant on his. When the Colonel motions for you to leave, you lean on his desk, towering over his sitting form.
“I will kill you at the end, you know it, right?”
“Have you seen it?” He teases, easy smile on his lips that makes bile churn your stomach.
“I don’t need to.”
He chuckles, as if dealing with a child, and motions for you to be escorted out of his office.
____
On these last few weeks, Karpov has pushed you to try to find a link, a trace of the energy you follow to find the possible futures pertaining to one person, in objects of emotional significance to them, one way or another.
It has worked. And the Colonel is disgustingly happy with the achievement.
He makes you try and see the futures of old agents, sometimes runaway ones. The notes taken on your reports are vast and quick, but they are never shown to you.
And this blinding success is what allows you to breach into the network of one of the mining facilities Karpov takes you to, being the dog at his side as he monitors the situation.
The Doctor is focused on the results in your recent exams, reading over and over the words in your reports over your powers and their use, when you are cleaning their trace in the net. Leaving what you hope Natalia finds, the perfect absence you left behind when you wanted your sister, but no one else, to find you.
You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut at night, hoping to whatever is willing to listen that they can find you. You can only hope, and you fear the destruction that terrible and dangerous hope can leave behind.
___
It comes a day when you fear they will not find you, that the message was not enough and they will not find the trace back to you. They do. But it is already too late.
Karpov is tipped off by one of his men that Captain America is incoming. Only a slight nod is all the answer the Colonel gives, before he is left alone with you, and turns slowly to you.
You try telling yourself it is not fear what runs through your veins the moment you stand face to face with the bloodthirsty Colonel you remember almost killing when you were young. You try telling yourself it’s adrenaline, excitement…but there’s no hiding the trembling in your hands, the erratic beat of your heart when the familiar sounds of fighting approach the facility and Karpov stands silently before you, dead grey eyes on yours.
“You made a mistake, girl.”
A smile is all you give in return, before reaching for the knife at your back and rising your arm in defense.
“Don’t come any closer.” You warn, backing towards the door. The Colonel smiles, a frightening, sinister smile.
“Scared?”
Before long, you move to strike before he can decide to. Going for a clean cut in his torso, which he quickly deflects, you lose your balance for a second.
Hand grabs your arm, twisting the wrist and having the knife fall from your grasp.
You move your wrist out of his reach, but his hand never moves to grab it. Instead, long fingers wrap around your throat, lifting you up.
The knife changes hands, and you reach up with your left hand, slicing the inside of his elbow, forcing a grunt out of his lips and setting you free.
The bloodloss makes him dizzy, the uninjured arm tries swinging your way, but fails.
Predicting his clumsy moves, you try bolting for the door, hoping the team outside has any sort of long-range support to cover you once you are out.
But Karpov’s heavy boot lands painfully on your calves, forcing your knees to buckle, but before you can fall to the ground, the Colonel pins you to the wall, his forearm pressed roughly against your back and breath rough on your ear when he growls,
“Too slow, girl.”
Despite the pain on your head from where it hit the wall, the way your body still sings with a mixture of fear and the relief of finally facing off the monster under your bed; you keep your jaw set tight and your eyes dry when you are forced to turn and watch Karpov in the eye.
Moving up your arm before he can completely immobilize you, you press the blade to your throat.
And as expected, the man lets you go.
“I know your weakness, Karpov,” You purr, turning around and forcing blood to drip from the small cut you trace on your skin, all the while ignoring the sharp sting of it. The man’s eyes are focused on it, prompting your smile to turn a little less false, a lot more cold. “You have played all your cards.
You walk slowly away from him, circling him as he gauges your stance, your expression, trying to predict you. Like one predator against another, you stand still, the knife against your throat still, his eyes distrusting and almost fearful too.
“Your weakness, it’s a thing as human as fear. It’s the natural fear, the one that you can’t shake off, the one that haunts you no matter what you do to avoid it…that’s the fear that will burn you down, Colonel,” You watch his hands clench, his eyes travel to the door behind you separating you from freedom and the chaos of battle, when you tighten your grip on the knife, and force more blood down your throat. “And you fear what is away from your reach, what you can’t predict, what lies beyond your control.”
“I control you, girl.”
But you shake your head, a mix of joy and cold satisfaction running through you like an electrical current. You just have to buy yourself time before Natalia, judging by the light and precise steps approaching the hallway, finds you.
“You said it yourself, Karpov. You know better than to mess with a soulbond,” The smile in your lips widens, “Prove me wrong, let me bleed, let me hurt. Let me be in so much pain that I turn to Hydra for reprieve.
You cock your head to the side, the sting of the blade on your neck nothing compared to the great feeling of victory settling over you.
“You won’t, will you? Because you have tried the same before. Burning me out of existence. I remember,” There’s a moment when you think the Colonel will interrupt you, speak up. But he doesn’t, so you continue, “You won’t touch a hair on my head and I know why, Colonel. You don’t fear me, you don’t even fear Bucky, or my sister. You fear what happens when he feels me in the other end of the bond, suffering. You fear what happens when Natalia is out for blood. You fear what I will do with you once I know they are out of your reach. You fear us.
Although there’s a strong pull to reach for the strengthening bind to the future, you ignore it for the time being, being sure to put on a mocking smile on your face when you state,
“Like I said. You fear what you can’t control.”
You feel your heartbeat settle in your chest with painful beats, the name-less tune forced and struggling as you stumble back, your powers taking over your senses.
There’s a strange pull taking your focus away from the fight out of the facility holding your sister’s hand on one of your own and skillfully maneuvering your gun with the other.
You try shaking your head, getting rid of it, but a bullet flying past your head from a place at your back has both you and Natalia tumbling forward to cover, and when you turn around you feel your heart stop.
It’s stupid, it’s reckless. God, you know it is.
But there’s still hope clinging to your words, like the blood tainting your lips, dripping slowly into your voice.
“Bucky?”
The Winter Soldier moves in for the attack, not even waiting for you or your sister to move. Natalia pushes you away from the blunt of the hit from his metal arm, your back hitting a wall as you watch with wide eyes as Natalia is hit square in her chest, falling to the floor and crawling away from the advancing soldier like a scared child trying to find refuge in her parents’ arms.
“Sestra!” You scream, the word torn off your throat in a desperate attempt to make the world stop spinning, to make time freeze for just one instant, to make the mistresses of fate realized they have punished them enough.
A moment of hesitation, a breath caught in your throat.
Bucky turns to you, and you see some flicker of recognition flash behind the Soldat’s cold gaze.
The sound of the gunshot is something that your soul knows somehow, you will never forget.
When Bucky falls, there’s tears in your sister’s eyes, and a smoking handgun on her trembling, guilty hands.
You try warning Natalia, you try reaching out and doing something to save either of them, but your eyes fall closed, your body tumbling down, before you can even utter a sound.
__
Kseniya chases you through the streets, agile legs carrying her over the roofs as she catches up to you. Letting herself fall down right in front of you, although a few feet away, the blonde points her gun at you, dead eyes set on yours, and you do the same thing.
“You want me alive,” You state, praying she doesn’t hear the tremor in your voice. “I won’t let you take me.”
“I can make you,” She smirks, pretending to advance, and managing to set you even more on edge as you try to keep an eye on both her and the threads referring to each possible future.
You take a step back, “You can’t. What do you want me for?”
“You are needed, girl. The miracles failed, is time to go back to good ol’ weapons.” She sing-songs, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. In what seems like a puff of smoke, she is standing right in front of you.
You shoot. One, two times.
But the bullets go through her like she is made of mist.
“What…?”
She smirks your way, taking out a picture from your backpack and pretending to study it. You can only stare at her with wide eyes.
“Nice picture, dolly,” She lifts her eyes to yours, and only then you notice the way some sort of dark mist is swimming inside of them, like the red you saw in the new girl in the Avengers group. She presses her palm to your chest, over your heart, and leaves the picture pressed against your jacket. “Better give it back to its owner, pretty thing. It’s never too late, is it?”
“Kseniya?” You whisper. She looks at you, now her clear eyes shining with unsheded tears, her mouth trembling. Her expression is that of the broken girl that killed her soulmate and begged a stranger with whom she shared a distant past for forgiveness.
But there’s a strange fierceness in it too, a flame trying to ignite a fire past Hydra’s ice.
“It’s not too late,” She whispers, the distinct sound of crackling fire reaching your ears. “You had to take my place to set me free. But there’s still time.”
“Time?” You ask, watching numbly as flames engulf her form, her hand still stubbornly pressing the picture into your heart.
Her silver eyes set on you, a broken relief flooding them, and she falls down at your feet. The flames die surrounding her, a last rite to another victim of Siberia’s cold, and what is left is a girl with a bullet on her head, lying dead on the ground, somewhere on a lost island in the Indian Ocean.
You look down at your hand, the picture now in your hand as you press it into your heart, trying to somehow keep it safe.
The face of the past looks right back at you, and the words embedded in the back swim in your head.
“Bucky. Bucky. Don’t forget that. Count the beats, don’t forget that. Bucky.” You whisper.
You smell the clean and spiked scent of a hospital room before you even open your eyes. Your first thought is whether or not the team made it out of the facility you sent them to, if they found anything to lead them to you, and how to erase the trail before Karpov can do something worse than death upon any of you.
A doctor greets you with a tight smile and fearful eyes, prompting you to get up and walk a few steps, checking your blood pressure and letting the small clip still be attached to your finger, so you can heart the maddening beat of your heartbeat, driving you crazy.
The incident in the facility replays in your brain like a broken record.
Karpov worked around my ability to predict him.
When you ask the doctor what was the reason you collapsed, she states something about low blood sugar and the air pressure in the mining facility before giving you your new schedule and escorting back to bed.
You are set to train almost twice as many hours as before, with so many of the time invested in training being focused on your abilities instead of your combat techniques. You say nothing when she asks if you have any questions, but there’s a part of you that cannot help but notice you have been liberated of reporting to Karpov each night.
The doctor leaves, promising you that you will be ‘home’ soon, and it is only then that you realize you are in a vehicle. When you open your eyes again, you notice you still are in one of Hydra’s underground trains, you can tell by the damp smell that still clouds the wagon. There’s a presence next to you, but you refuse to acknowledge him.
“What is it going to take for you to accept it?”
“That I’m not getting out? Death, Karpov.” You answer back, eyes still on the black nothingness of the tunnel as it flies past your widow.
“That you may get out if you do as you are told.”
The resilient silver of childish hope rises within you, but you are quick to tame it with the reality of who you are dealing with.
“How many people have you asked for their souls in exchange for freedom, Colonel?”
“Not many that could pay up for said freedom,” You turn to him, not saying anything, but the interest subtly shown in your moves. The man is dressed in civilian, although almost formal clothing, his hands folded in his lap and eyes set on the front of the empty wagon as he continues, “I want you to find a former agent. Rumlow, Brock Rumlow. He has gone haywire, and I fear he will…tamper our name.”
“You want him dead.”
“I’m not sending you into the field.”
“Smart.” You admit, wry smile twisting your lips.
“I want him found and tracked, girl. You will see it is easier if you comply.”
The word in itself makes bile rise in your throat, acid churn in your stomach. Karpov stands up, straightening his clothes before setting off to walk out of the wagon, but not before stating,
“And no tricks, girl. I get word you are bringing them to us, and I won’t stop them, I won’t escape. I’m going to have the Soldat rip them apart as you watch. And then put a bullet in his brain. If I’m merciful.”
You don’t say anything, clenching your jaw and looking ahead as the man leaves with measured and heavy steps. Helplessness and fear battle within you, making your hands shake and lip quiver stupidly.
But you push past it, you try seeing the light at the end, the possibility of maybe freedom. You don’t think you can live on without that stupid hope.
And you are not counting on Karpov for your freedom, oh no. You are counting ghosts.
While searching for Rumlow, you sneak in small pieces of data on Kseniya, her work with Karpov and the events that led to her awakening by the Colonel more than a year ago to find you.
You study what you remember of the girl, her words, her actions.
You study what it takes to make someone kill their own soulmate. You study what they did to her, what left no marks but made her so pliable to Hydra’s whims.
You study what is so important they want out of you.
You study what will make you their soldier.
There’s countless files on the Winter Soldier Program scattered through your room, pages upon pages on Hydra’s insight on their perfect weapon.
You study what Bucky told you of his time as the Soldier. The training, the mind tricks, the lies.
You study the techniques they used to control him, their plans for his future. You study their intent to conjoint Hydra’s most powerful sources when they sent him to the Red Room, the project your death inadvertently stopped.
You study what they wanted to make out of the girls in the Red Room. The children in Project Cataclysm.
You study what they wanted, and want still, to make out of you.
____
It is somewhere in the middle of the night, almost a week after the incident in the mining facility, and you still haven’t seen Karpov. You haven’t reported to him, interacted with him.
All you do is train. Train and track Brock Rumlow in his mad path through Europe.
And research what the girl Karpov woke up, the girl that killed her own soulmate, wanted out of you.
You hold a picture, almost as old as the one Bucky has of you, of Kseniya Nikolaev. Third child of a family of five, taken at the age of sixteen and turned into an experiment by Hydra. Her soulmate was Adriana Donati, dead at the age of twenty one, sniped while she was assisting refuge efforts in northern Italy after an earthquake.
She smirks your way, taking out a picture from your backpack and pretending to study it. You can only stare at her with wide eyes.
“Nice picture, dolly,” She lifts her eyes to yours, and only then you notice the way some sort of dark mist is swimming inside of them, like the red you saw in the new girl in the Avengers group. She presses her palm to your chest, over your heart, and leaves the picture pressed against your jacket. “Better give it back to its owner, pretty thing. It’s never too late, is it?”
There’s a heavy weight in your stomach as you stare back at the face of the girl you killed without hesitation.
“Why did you drive me to him? Karpov didn’t plan on either of us killing each other, he said it himself.”
“I’m not here to be your enemy, I’m here to offer you an out.”
“You know the kind of information I’ve got. If I have the names of the highest ranking officers, you know I know every dirty trick in the book that can ruin your sister’s and the Soldat’s lives. I want something simple and easy. My silence, in exchange for your abilities.”
“It is better if you just come home, and we both know it. I’m not calling yet, but I want you to know I have the advantage, always will.”
Understanding falls on you with the rush and electricity of a free fall from the tallest height, the vertigo rushing through you and forcing a gasp out of your throat.
“You were stalling. All this time, you were buying time,” You shrug off the pull of sleep and exhaustion, standing up from your position on the floor and walking towards her file. “Why?”
Kseniya’s heartbeat rhythm stares back at you, and a conversation with Bucky you two had while somewhere in northern Romania is brought to the front of your mind.
“Karpov didn’t want you to remember me. If my sister hadn’t changed my name, he would’ve killed me.” You start, eyes on one of the specks of cinnamon floating in your swirling coffee cup.
“Why wouldn’t he stop my heart and re-start it?” Bucky finishes for you, to which you only answer with a shrug. It still scares you a bit how easy it is for him to talk about things like these, to speak of himself as nothing more than a target, a weapon.
That is the way Hydra sees him, it frightens you how disconnected from himself he is sometimes.
“I mean, it would be the smart thing to do. Memories erased, name gone…the whole package.”
“But Hydra wasn’t the one to come up with the name erasure technique.” He argues softly, finally sitting next to you on the couch and lifting your sock-cladded legs to rest in his lap, both metal and flesh arms resting gently over your calves.
“They didn’t come up with many things they used during the years. What’s your point?”
“I don’t know. Natalia knew of the procedure by luck, and even though they planned on doing it to the Black Widows, it never pulled through.”
“But why?”
“Maybe they know more of heartbeats that we do.” This time it is his turn to shrug, prompting you to put up a fake affronted look on your face as you turn to him.
“I earned a living from heartbeats, for almost fifty years. I’m insulted, dear.”
A small smile teases at the corners of his lips, the first unburdened smile you have seen on him since you pulled the trigger on that damned facility.
“They use our beats. Not the names. The rhythm.” You pondered out loud, hands quickly reaching for the intel on Project Cataclysm.
That’s why Hydra didn’t go through with their erasure of the girl’s heartbeats on the Red Room. That’s why so many kids died on the facility you were held on, even though the serum was easily survivable.
That’s why Kseniya killed her soulmate.
That’s why Karpov is so adamant in keeping you here, even if you cost him his men, his resources. Because they found a way to control the heartbeats.
Because there was more than the enhancement of abilities in Project Cataclysm.
Your heartrate spikes, as if your body knows the rhythm you thought a curse for so long is really so much more than that. And it wants you to listen. As your heartbeat fills your ears, resounding within your head in that nameless song, you realize something.
The picture of Kseniya still trapped within your hand, your eyes filling with tears at the realization.
That’s why you didn’t give away my heartbeat rhythm until the end. That’s why you said we would be soulmates if I killed you.
Because I would take your place. Not only your name, but your spot under the Colonel’s control.
The way Karpov always pushed you to use your powers when you were in the brink of overpowering him. The combat training without your powers he forced you to try.
The fight in the mining facility. The way your powers told you something, but he did something completely different.
“Oh, God. How much of it was real?” You whisper, trembling hand covering your mouth as the papers fall from your hands, sliding to the floor and joining countless others.
A sound coming from your -monitored- computer brings you out of your own head and, rubbing shaking fingers over your eyes to get rid of the dampness in them, you stumble to the monitor.
You are pressing the intercom button before you can think about it too much.
“Girl, I hope you have good news.”
“I found Rumlow, Colonel.” You sing back, a small smile taking over your face.
___
When the Doctor walks into the room, you are expecting her, holding to vials of liquid in one hand and the handgun in the other.
“Miss Romanova.” She greets, not even phased at the gun aimed at her head.
There’s a special kind of fear running through your veins right now. Like the fear you had the first time you left the Union when you found Natalia, like the first time you settled and made a home after your adoptive parents were killed, like the first time you looked into Bucky’s eyes. Like the first time you kissed him, like the first time you made love, like the first time you dared speak of a future so darn perfect it seemed impossible.
A special kind of fear, the kind of fear that makes you weaker, yes, but somehow more stubborn, more resilient. Maybe even braver enough to do what is needed.
“I’m gonna go on a limb and say you are not going to agree with me.”
“I might. What are you offering, Miss?” The woman replies, sitting calmly at her desk.
And suddenly you are in front of a lowlife in some unknown street of Austria, his valiant face asking something in return of his intel. And the words about the name on her heartbeat are at the tip of your tongue, but this time you do not let them out.
“What do you want, Doctor?”
“To disappear.”
You lean back, crossing your arms over your chest, but keeping your grip on the gun tight and secure.
“You will have to be more specific.”
“I read your file, Y/N. You evaded the Winter Soldier, the whole of Hydra, and even greater enemies I may not know of,” She states knowingly, hands carefully placed in the desk. But you notice the slight nervous twitching of her fingers as they are intertwined with one another. “You are good, of not the best.”
“Thank you for the compliment. Now, I would appreciate it if you made your point.”
“I made it. You went off the radar. Every radar there was. You can do so again, this time for me.”
A small laugh leaves your lips. Mocking, practiced, prodding. “You want your heartbeat off the charts.”
She nods,
“I want my life, my work, to vanish. As if it never existed.”
“Your name is in someone’s heart, though. My…disappearance was aided by the fact that no one knew my real name.”
“The heart with my name on it was stopped, a long time ago,” Before you can even ask the first question that runs through your head, the woman snaps, “No, it was never restarted.”
“Hydra?” You ask, eyes narrowed.
“The criminals I joined Hydra to kill.”
“So romantic.” You tease, cold smile still in place although the closeness to grasp your freedom, this time once and for all, makes your insides tremble.
“I read your file, Y/N,” She repeats, turning her back to you and paying attention to a heart monitor near her, and taking out some equipment and sterilizing it as she looks at you over the rim of her glasses, “Don’t pretend you didn’t dance with the Devil for your love’s soul.”
“I danced. I didn’t lay with the Devil, Doctor.” You spit back, the silent oath understood between you and the woman. I am not Hydra, so don’t equal me to you.
“Different circumstances, different results. Same intent.” The woman shrugs, making blood boil under your skin.
It is with a sigh of concession that you remain silent for a few seconds, before clicking the safety of your gun once again, rendering the gun as harmless as it can be in the hands of a woman with the lastname Romanova.
“I want your heartbeat, Doc. Your name and history would make a nice addition.”
She motions for you to hop onto the table, after musing your response and finally nodding in agreement. You are taken aback by her disposition, and suddenly you are a girl again, standing in front of a scary Doctor in a Hydra facility, not sure of what they plan on doing to you.
“Miss, please take a seat.” The man orders without even turning his head to look at you.
“Did you kill my parents?” You ask, although you know the answer. At this point, you think asking questions and reminding yourself of the life outside these horrible, dark, and damp halls is what will keep you sane.
Keep you remembering.
“We did what we had to, Miss.”
“Is my sister alright? Are you taking me to her?”
“I’m afraid not.” The doctor retorts, tone bored and unchanging as he clearly focuses his attention on the papers in front of him. The ones with your vitals on them, probably.
“The Winter Soldier, then?”
That gets him to turn around.
Harsh brown eyes study you for what feels like an eternity, and the small, stupid silver of hope within you that this was going to be over in any way soon is stumped down when the Doctor takes a few steps towards you, studying you.
“What do you know, girl?”
You remind yourself of what happened when you let others see what you feel, what you know. You remind yourself of the Colonel’s mocking laugh, of the dead soldiers at your feet, of your mother’s screams as she sees her adopted child being dragged away.
You remind yourself who you are playing with.
You remind yourself Hydra, the monster with no face, the legend of death and torture; they do not stand for threats.
Your sister, your soulmate, were proof enough that with people like these it is that survivors are broken.
So you shrug, “I heard some of the kids talking about it.”
He nods, lowering his gaze to the board in his hands. After reading in silence for a few seconds, he motions for you to sit on a scary looking chair with too much resemblance to one that has haunted your memories of nightmares not your own for too long now.
“What is that?” You ask, and the man tsks his tongue, clearly running out of patience.
“I have to get you healthy. Sit, and I will give you some fluids.”
“Why should I?” You retort, but he only sighs in response.
“You’ll find pain soon, girl. Make it easier for yourself and don’t make it start now.”
“Now?” You ask, stupidly. The woman sneers your way, the creases around her eyes deepening with the movement.
“I’m sorry. Do you have a date you don’t want to miss?”
Ignoring her, and, frankly, ignoring your own stupid question; you walk on unusually shaky legs to the table.
“Karpov will not be notified of the change.”
“Of course not.”
“The traces of the new rhythm will be destroyed, Doc,” She hesitates for a moment, clearly not expecting that demand, and a part of you rests assured that as far as you know only Karpov is aware and in power of controlling people, Cataclysm’s survivors, through their heartbeats. So, it is easier for you to add the forced lightheartedness in your tone, “And you better bring me back.”
“Don’t fret, girl. I’m not stupid enough to try to kill you. Like I said, I read your file.”
The brace-like clasp is set around your left arm, and the woman readies both the poison and the mix of adrenaline and epinephrine to bring back to life the heart the poison is set to stop.
You watch avidly the process, the way she reaches to settle a clasp around your chest. You hold her wrist tightly in your hand, and her eyes meet yours.
“You will convulse when the heart stops. I can’t have you moving.” She explains, forcing you to let go of her and fastening the clasp around your chest. You take a few deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from panicking when she reaches for your other arm, strapping you to the table and leaving you unable to move.
The Doctor asks if you are ready, an unlikely and surprising gentleness in her tone as she settles near you, ready to start the process.
“I’m ready.” You whisper, more to yourself than her. Panic claws is way through you, whispering in your ear about how she cannot be trusted, about how there’s so many things that could be wrong, about how maybe your heartbeat will stay the same after what your sister did fifty or so years ago.
But you try ignoring it.
“Okay, stopping your heart in three…”
You close your eyes and think of your sister, easy smile and a mischievous glint in her eye as she links her arm with yours, a slight bump of her hip to yours as you walk together.
“Two…”
You clench your hands into fists and think of Bucky, gentle heart and this awed and loving depth to his gaze as his arms wrap around you, his warmth spreading to you and his heart seeming to beat in sync with yours when you press your chest against his as you lean up to share a kiss.
“One.”
You feel the initial shock, the shattering feeling of your body, your whole being, shriveling up to nothing as something else takes control over it, and your mouth falls open in a scream that never leaves your lips, your skin breaks as the animal part of you tries to fight the bonds, tries to be set free to fight an even battle against the infinite and invisible curse of death.
You bite past the pain, and let yourself think of the futures you let yourselves wonder, dream, picture, in these last few months since coming back to your sister and, unknowingly, to your soulmate.
Somewhere in the States, Natalia finds a group of peace fighters and convinces you to join them on their van as they travel the country.
You cannot help but notice the way your sister’s gaze lingers on the eldest couple, Elsa and Jeremy, around their mid thirties and seven months along their first pregnancy. Natalia’s green eyes seem to be glued to the embraced couple, her lips curved in an unconscious, sad, smile as she watches Elsa run her hands over her swollen stomach.
“Think you’ll ever have that, Solnyshka?” Your sister whispers, resting her head on your shoulder as she continues to watch the scene unfold.
“Maybe,” You concede, even though you cannot imagine bringing a child to this world of chaos and death, of running and jumping at shadows. But, the image is there, the golden future with the white picket fence teases you form the distance. “What about you, Nat?”
Her smile turns bitter, and she swallows tightly before answering, “I can’t.”
“You can still be a mother, Natalia. They didn’t take that from you.”
“I’m not talking about the…the sterilization. I am not…soft, I wouldn’t-…I can’t have this.” She mutters, her silver tongue tangled in the pain and anger of a past life never hers.
You reach for her hand, squeezing softly before resting your head over her own where it still lays on your shoulder.
“Well, you better be there for the little me’s running around. They are going to need their Auntie Nat to spoil them rotten.”
She laughs, a broken but hopeful sound leaving her smiling lips. Her eyes remain in the couple, though. There’s a few moments of silence, where you reach up to not-so-subtly comb through the messy red bangs in her forehead.
“If you name the first girl after me.”
“Which of the hundreds of names, sestra?” You tease back, chuckling when she pinches your arm lightly in retaliation.
A pained sound leaves your throat, leaving behind a trail of fire and gravel. But you clench your hands into fists and focus on anything that isn’t the way your lungs aren’t filling with air anymore.
“Remember the first night you spent at the compound?” Bucky whispers, eyes closed even though his fingers trail over the bare skin of your arms and back as if trying to memorize the pattern, as if trying to commit your body to memory.
“The time I yelled at you, ran off, and then had a ‘stern Steve’ glare thrown at me?”
He laughs lightly, a silver of his bright eyes peeking through his hooded lids.
“You never told me about that.”
“About how your bestfriend is a big momma bear when it comes to you?” You tease with a smile, “Honey, I think you should be aware of that already.
A breath, and then, as the hand that is not under your head traces over his profile; you add,
“’Sides, I deserved it.”
“You had every right to react how you did. Hell, I’m still amazed you don’t hate my guts, doll.”
There’s a rue smile on your lips when you answer,
“I don’t think I ever did, honestly. I hated not remembering, I hated that…that I couldn’t recognize my past self because…” You fail to put your thoughts into words, so you sigh and try explaining it from the beginning, “The Ghost Hydra’s inner circle boasted about controlling, the one I learned and read about, he…he couldn’t be my soulmate,” There’s a very subtle wince Bucky makes at your words, only noticeable because of how close you are to him. You reach to turn his gaze back to yours before the doubt and guilt can even try to settle on his eyes; gentle fingers on his cheek as your eyes ask him to listen to you. “I couldn’t bear a world, a version of myself, where I didn’t give everything to keep you from that pain, a version of me that failed to keep the people I love safe.
 You try to keep the pain out of your voice, the creeping feeling of having failed him from taking over your heart and your voice.
“I couldn’t-…I think refusing the idea that we were soulmates helped me deal with the idea that I wasn’t…enough.”
Bucky intervenes quickly at your words, sitting up slightly and frowning your way.
“Not enough?” He repeats. Shaking his head, he looks into your eyes as he says, “Angel, you kept me…as sane as I could be. You gave me hope, babygirl. Way before I even met you.” The earnestness in his tone, the way his grey-blue eyes search yours and try to make you understand put a small, teary smile on your face.
But you still shake your head as you sit up too to be able to face him. Your eyes follow your fingers as they trace the scars over his shoulder, right where skin meets metal, where the boy that fell from the train met Hydra’s Ghost.
“I should have done more.” You insist softly.
“Y/N, listen to me,” He whispers, warm flesh and the somehow soft metal framing your face as he takes it in his hands. “I am not lying when I say you kept me alive, doll. You did all you could, and the fact that I can see you right in front of me and hold you right now is more than I ever thought I would have, even before Hydra,” He smiles softly as he rests his forehead on yours, his eyes falling closed, “You are my soulmate, Y/N.”
There’s a softness in his tone when he says it, like a secret between you two, like a treasure to be kept. A smile forms on your lips as you close your eyes as well.
“Wish I could have been there, though.”
“You were,” He insists, “Knowing that I had you, somewhere, somehow? It gave me peace, even when I was…trapped in there. Hearing you, feeling you on the other side of the bond when I thought I was going to give up gave me a reason to stay,” He states simple, not a shade of uncertainty in his voice, making your throat close and a pitiful sniffle break the silence between his words. “And…if having now you means having to survive all that? I’d take the deal a thousand times.”
You open your eyes, and you hear it, beating wildly on the machines, as if singing its own anthem of victory.
Your heartbeat. The new name it spells.
-... ..- -.-. -.- -.-- / -... .- .-. -. . ...
Bucky Barnes.
____
You bide your time, you let your body rest and heal from its second dance with death. You plan, with observing eyes and burning rage building under your skin.
On the morning Karpov sends his best men after Rumlow, you move.
Stationed in Siberia ever since your failed attempt at staging your own rescue in the mining facility, you know every nook and cranny of this god-forsaken place.
Which works in your favor when you corner Karpov in his office, a gun in your hand and once again the barrel of it pressing against his forehead.
Only this time, you don’t hesitate.
You don’t shoot, he doesn’t deserve the embrace of death yet, but you don’t hesitate either.
The last of his guards falls to the ground with a sickening sound, but you don’t give yourself time to ponder on it, already reloading the handgun and strapping it back to your thigh. Taking the semi-automatic from your back and aiming carefully as you stroll into the room, you try calming your erratically beating heart.
“Karpov!” Your voice echoes loudly in the room. “You better come out, you son of a bitch.”
No answer.
Reaching a simple desk, you let the rifle rest in your bicep, holding it with one hand as the other takes one of the files from his desk.
Y/N Romanova.
You let it fall with an angry sigh, eyes lifting to scan over the room.
“Karpov?” You try again, and at the deafening silence of your own voice echoing back at you, you close your eyes for a second. Taking a deep breath, you whisper, ignoring how your voice trembles at the name you haven’t dared pronounce in so long, “James?”
The answer is an arm firmly wrapping around your neck, trying to pull you back.
The Colonel’s hot breath traces your skin, making bile rise in your throat.
“I’m afraid he is unavailable at the moment, girl.”
The rifle in your hand is quickly discarded as you reach for the knife strapped to your thigh. Slicing swiftly over the man’s arm and ribs, you put distance between you, turning around and looking for the first time in your life into the eyes of the monster that gives a face to the horror that is Hydra for you.
There’s an edge in the Colonel’s anger, a madness lurking behind his gaze. It is enough to freeze you on the spot, sealing your voice behind tightly closed lips.
“You are the girl that took my family from me.” He states, disbelief clouding his words.
“You are the man that took everything from me!” You yell back, voice catching in anger and years old pain. The man smiles your way in response, lines around his eyes deepening, forcing you to suppress a shiver.
“Are you here to take revenge, little one?”
“I’m here to get James out.”
“You are not,” Karpov answers, smile still in place and a small shrug accompanying his words. Taken aback, you open your mouth to ask what he means, when the older man shakes his head your way, as if proving to himself -or you- how naive, how unknowing, you are. “You will fail.”
“I will not.”
“Trust me, I know you will. My family, the men and women you found on your way here; they should be dead, or worse,” He explains, walking slowly towards you even as you take out your handgun and point it at his head. “You are not fierce enough.”
A snarl twists your lips upwards as you stalk towards him, anger boiling under your skin and making your hands tremble as you press the end of the barrel on the man’s forehead.
“Where is he!?”
The smile turns predatory, haunting the part of you that still hopes for a way for this to work out, “Nowhere to be found.”
“I will kill you, I swear I’ll-” You start, despite the way your hand trembles, despite the way the Colonel looks at you like he has already won. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks, but you clench your jaw and take the safety off.
Still, the words die in your throat, the threat falls flat as it shows you are nothing but a girl, scared and pushed to the limit. The tears fall and you are nothing but a failed experiment, a broken doll that cursed the man with her name on his heart, because she would never be as strong as he needed her to be, because she would never be enough to push back the demons reaching for his soul.
“You should have killed them. You should kill me. But you won’t.”
Twin streaks of tears stain your face, eyes shining but voice sure and rageful as you spit back, “I won’t become a monster to win!”
“You need to be one just to be able to fight back against Hydra, girl.”
But you proved him wrong. Now your soul is still yours and so is justice.
The alarm ringing through the facility shakes you out of your memories, bringing your focus back to the escape, however easy it may be now that the head of the snake if gone.
Not cut, only two more would grow back. You made sure to burn it off this time. Let the ghosts try to make venom out of ashes. They will only fail.
You can almost feel the sting of Siberia’s cold on your skin as you sprint towards the exit. Before you actually leave though, your eyes fall to the surveillance cameras, and you see four of Karpov’s elite guards run into the room you are running through.
A curse leaves your lips in Russian, quiet as your steps as you press your back to the nearest wall, and ready your knives.
You haven’t established a link strong enough to the new beat of your heart to be able to use your powers to their fullest extent. Or trust them, for that matter. If there’s anything Karpov taught you in these few months, is that you are much more than your powers, than what they tried to make out of you.
So, you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and move in as they are about to turn the corner.
Karpov is down. So is Kseniya. All by my hand. I can do this.
You manage to land a few shallow cuts in the first man’s torso and arm before another guard grabs you from behind, forcing you into a headlock and cutting off your air.
“I don’t see how I will need this experience. Soulmate trackers usually don’t go around handing CV’s, Buck.” You grumble from the floor, covering your face with your arm as you feel the soreness of training spread through your body.
“Call it…covering the bases, preparing for the worst.” He says, prompting you to lift yourself up; and you do so, but not without complaining wordlessly but loudly as you do.
“I would rather call you paranoid, but I’m gonna go with it,” Smiling his way to soften the blow, you ready your stance again. Before Bucky moves to attack you, you call out, “And I can hear you, Steven.”
A soft chuckle is all the response you get from the blond supersoldier, and your smile is quickly wiped off as you focus back on the training exercise.
You are able to counter Bucky’s attacks, and even though you know he is holding back the strength of his prosthetic you avoid and dodge almost every hit. Still, you are painfully aware how pushed you are, constantly in defense and unable to land any hit.
With an angry growl, you move for a punch right after blocking a hit with your forearm. Bucky grabs your hand, however, fast reflexes stopping your hit.
“Too slow, doll.” He teases, smirk on his face.
“Against a supersoldier? Well, duh.”
“Be smarter, then.”
Before you can answer, you feel Steve’s forearm around your throat, Bucky still holding your hand and rendering you immobile.
Well, almost.
Using Steve’s grip as a lever, you pull yourself up, landing your bare feet on Bucky’s chest and pushing him back, turning your smaller body over Steve’s head and shoulders, breaking free of his grasp.
“Shit,” You gasp, landing on shaky legs on the floor. A stunned Steve gives you an arm to stand straighter, and you smile proudly at the soldiers, “Smarter it is, then.”
“I’m impressed.” Steve smiles your way, and you shake your head in response.
“You shouldn’t be. I pissed of Hydra, more times than I remember; I had to be able to beat their best.
You shrug, leaning back into Bucky’s chest when he wraps his arm around you gently, pressing a kiss against your hair with a sigh.
You have the not so sneaking suspicion that there was more than a way to spend time behind Bucky’s intentions to train you to fight against a supersoldier, but you choose to ignore them for the time being, aware only time will make the -however unstable- peace he has found something he trusts to remain.
Pressing a kiss to Bucky’s jaw, you add, “’Sides, it doesn’t hurt that you taught my totally-not-overprotective sister how to beat you.”
You shake off the guard, falling behind him and destabilizing him after using is own strength against him. You try not dwelling on how easy it is when you plunge your knives deep into his chest from your place at his back.
The man falls quickly to the ground, and for a second too long the remaining soldiers look at you in something akin to fear.
“Aim to kill.” The leader growls, before two assault rifles are pointed your way, and he launches himself your way.
You make quick work of him, though, as his trigger-happy subordinates try shooting at you the moment you get the upper hand, allowing you to move his frame to cover you and have his men kill him.
 You use his handgun to take the other two down, following his order and aiming to kill. Taking a moment to breathe,  you take cover behind a pillar and count your bullets.
But there’s a new, coordinated sets of steps approaching the room again. Trying to keep them from hearing you, you hold your breath and stay still, and seconds tick by in silence as you wait for them to move on.
But you hear their breathing change, the rustling of combat clothing as they signal to one another. They heard you.
You move in ahead despite the fear of being overpowered after all that has happened, knives aiming for the chest and neck, but your right arm is forced back, and the clicking of a gun’s safety makes your heart beat painfully fast in your chest.
Refusing to admit defeat so close to…to whatever is expecting you out in the world; you let go of the knife in your right hand, the magnets pulling it to the one on your left and making a double-bladed dagger. Turning your wrist and, although painfully, freeing yourself from their grasp; you grab a hold of the metal wrist and force them forward, their throat at the end of your knife.
The action stops as soon as the blade teases the thin skin of their neck, the one holding the gun…
Is that metal you feel under your fingers?
Your gaze finds for the first time the face of the attacker. For a few seconds, a few empty and achingly hopeful seconds, you cannot find it in yourself to react.
Broken grey eyes search yours, and it is only then you realize your knife is still at Bucky’s throat, your gaze dead and your stance that of a soldier.
Your name is a breath on his lips, the same name that branded you both, that cursed you both. But it has never sounded so much like salvation.
“Bucky.” A smile trembles in your lips as you look at him, and before you can think twice about it, the knife falls from your hand, the now free hand reaching up to his cheek.
Buck flinches away from your touch, eyes now frantic, scared, as they take you in. You repeat his name, a question now, a disbelieving plea.
Someone speaks up, someone that sounds like Steve, and you turn your eyes to the blond supersoldier when he intercepts you. The way he too stares at you like he has seen a ghost makes realization set on your stomach with the weight of a stone.
I stopped my own heart. Just like the first time.
Bucky’s words about how it felt to lose you the first time, whispered in the darkness that surrounded you in that peaceful cabin in Brasov, in what seems like a lifetime ago are brought forth in your mind, the guilt and pain mixing within you and forcing tears to rise in your eyes.
“I had to do it.” You whimper, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence as your eyes take in the man you love. The man that faced Hydra and didn’t back down, stares back at you with a fear unlike any other shining in his grey eyes; the hopeful soldier you said goodbye to in Vienna holds a new darkness to him.
The most resilient man you have ever met, the one with the quiet strength, with the stubborn push for survival…he looks completely and utterly broken.
Your focus is forced away from him, though, when your sister breaks the spell of disbelief that settled over the three soldiers when they saw you on your feet in front of them.
“Solnyshka.” Natalia breathes right by you, before you are wrapped up in her arms, her characteristic scent of the waxy smell of lipstick and coppery smell of gunpowder reaching your senses and prompting your whole body to relax, as if some primitive part of you is now safe because your big sister, your protector, your right hand, is with you again.
Her slender frame trembles in your arms, prompting tears to trail down your cheeks as your eyes fall closed.
You know what to do, how to comfort her. You know exactly how she feels, because you went through the same thing almost fifty years ago, and the memory of that pain still keeps you up at night. The delight, the gratefulness that your sister was alive and in front of you, the crushing pain of thinking of what you could have done to have her in your arms sooner, to save her from the pain.
So you just hug her tighter, run a hand through her short hair, and whisper the nonsense you wanted to hear when you got her back form her presumed death, because you remember with painful clarity how the raspy cadence of her voice managed to make it real, managed to make it permanent.
“Hey, I’m here, it’s-…it’s over, Nat,” You soothe, swallowing past the knot in your throat. “I’m here, I’m okay.
You look over her shoulder at your soulmate, taking in the way his eyes show a heartbreaking mix of anguish and awe. So not unlike the same way he looked at you when you met in Washington, disbelief tainting the first words the Ghost had uttered, resilient hope shaping the letters of your name as it left his lips.
You do not know who you are talking to when you add in a whisper,
“It’s finally over. We can go home.”
__
Okay, I kinda can’t believe this story is almost over. This doesn’t feel like the end at all though, idk why. But I am...happy? Yeah, I am, I want to take on a few more projects that I have planned out, write Royals, start doing more oneshots and stuff. And I loved writing this so much and I thank you all so much for your support and for reading my story!
I hope you liked this chapter, please come talk to me! Love ya!
Also, the second chapter of Bucky’s version of events takes place almost directly after the end of this one, so it kinda works as an epilogue. But, if you guys want, I think I can work out an epilogue, there’s a few scenes that never made the final cut too, so...just lemme know, I’m at your disposal here hehe
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Episode #4: “I am definitely sobbing 24/7” -Gavin
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-okay so dan left eight to one a real... how you say... zzz. and then birch activates the earthquake and gives us... the best swap... ever...? i say us i mean ME so anyway the swap gives me... my alliance members of vi/collin/ruthie which YES. we already are half the tribe eat it UP. then i have cindi who im close to, who im also in a second game with rn. which BAM, and also... og tribe majority mmmmm delicious. THEN from the other tribe i get. BODHI who im also close to outside of this, and am also in another game with rn (where im about to vote to keep him in so woo we love  building trust...?). then i have rachael who is a sweetheart and TIMMY. ONE OF MY OLDEST ORG FRIENDS HELLOOO. this swap is kind of... too... good? all the people i'd wanna vote out are on the other tribe so the MO rn is to just sweep challenges ideally? thats the agenda. because rn the ones i want gone are birch/keegan/zachary/gavin... all of whom are on the other tribe. so we better get to winning even tho it might be bad for austin/jay if we do (but maybe timmy would go first idek)
-okay so... we just won jeopardy? that challenge truly had me weighing up and considering literally fighting a child because that zach is half child prodigy, half robot he was literally bodying the challenges... BUT THEN WE WON ASFJDKSAL. we literally just went for broke on the final jeopardy and it came THROUGH. im so so happy because i want all of my swap tribe at merge, they are all people i want to stick around so even one tribal would be a disaster. i think timmy might unfortunately be screwed just because jay/austin are really connected. also the annie tribe is probably gonna lose... another og tribe member. but HONESTLY what can you do. this is good for my longterm survival anyway hopefully they turn inwards and get rid of one of OG Jack even though its probably unlikely KJFLSAD.
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-well, to start out, i am sorry this is later than anticipated. however, what matters is that i am doing it now... right? ANYWAYS... onto the confessional. i think the main thing i want to talk about this round, is the brilliant move i orchestrated during that challenge that gave us the win... and the fact that i got NO CREDIT FOR IT. OKAY Y'ALL... I SEE YOU. but anyways, i think it is clear that i am basically a mastermind. however, what really matters is that we won... so GO TEAM (me)! following the challenge this round i was added into an alliance chat planned by keegan and zach with rachael and myself. so, when jess wasn't included, i obviously had to go talk to her and subtly expose that alliance... and funnily enough, keegan added jess to alliance with birch! FUNNY. so, we basically figured out that keegan is trying to play everyone and anyone he can--which will definitely be useful information going forward. overall this round, i think i really strengthened some key bonds with birch and rachael specifically. i was on call with rachael for 5 hours straight and talked about personal things with birch for about an hour. so, i honestly feel pretty good going forward. and on the bright-side, if things start to look like they're going south, i always have that idol in my back pocket. until next time... xoxo, gossip girl.
-well, to no ones surprise... we swapped. AND I WAS SEPARATED FROM MY RACHAEL. i’m not crying... (jk, i am definitely sobbing 24/7). but on the bright side, i at least have jess with me. unfortunately due to zachs poor math skills, we lost the challenge that should have been an easy win for us given our lead going into the final jeopardy... but gavin is not bitter. so, unfortunately, we have to go to tribal with a brand new tribe. on the bright side, it seems to be looking in OG jack’s favor numbers wise, so i don’t particularly feel like i am in danger. however, you never know what could happen at tribal council. so, if worse comes to worse, i will have my idol ready to play—but i am hoping it doesn’t come to that. it appears as though austin or jay will be leaving—which is perfectly fine with me (even if i want keegan to go sooner rather than later, it’s best not to make any unnecessary waves right now. so i will continue to let him become a bigger target and try to take charge and snake as he does... and we will go from there.
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https://youtu.be/R3zDNJfI3Pc
https://youtu.be/4QKj_KZhhCE
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-I....am upset. You put me on a tribe with little cutie Gavin and then RIPPED HIM AWAY. I am beyond upset. I am outraged. SWAP US BACK COWARDS. Can't wait for the next earthquake to hit so we can be reunited. I miss him so much. He still sends me tiktoks though so thats cute. we are watching Hamilton together on Friday and I am so excited.
-It’s 1:02PM and I still miss Gavin.
-It’s 5:14 pm and I still miss Gavin. Hope he doesn’t go home, but I won immunity ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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So I forced a swap. yay! I also exiled myself, mainly to keep myself safe cause fuck getting voted out, Am I right? So I don't really have anything to report on. uhhhh, yeah. Go everyone!! 
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-When your tribe mates don't listen to your wager advice and you lose the challenge :))))))))))))))))))))))))
-So a swap happened so that's fun.... I can't even lie I  have swap PTSD from my last Survivor. I was swapped into the minority, rocked myself out with an idol for a souvenir. THAT BEING SAID... This swap worked out for me! I think? At least for now? If I didn't have Gavin with me I'd be extremely worried but because I do believe he has an "in" with the bro's Keegan/Zach aka: a duo... I'll at least know if they are up to some shady shit. I also got Chips! SO PARTY. I'm really thankful we got a swap because I don't know if I would have survived a couple of votes on my previous tribe. I wasn't necessarily "in" with people. So a swap was welcomed but I was also scared shitless. This swap has really opened the door for me/Zach? I don't trust him the slightest BUT at least we have some sort of dialogue right now compared to the crickets we were exchanging on OG JACK. This swap also broke up the "alliance" of Zach, Rachael, Keegan...and Gavin. So now they'll need to find a replacement Rachael and I know I'm not as pretty as Rachael but maybe I'll fill the female quota in that alliance? Chips has opened up a LOT to me so far. We've exchanged idol searches but he feels on the bottom of that "alliance" and I don't blame him. I just don't know where we go from here after this vote. He flips? to Jay? Maybe a Jay/Chips/Keegan/Zach majority? He wants me to flip to a Chips/Jay/Timmy/Majority? I have no idea. We also get Birch next round! I do enjoy Birch so much but that's a number for Keegan and that makes me un-easy. Keegan is easily my biggest threat so far. Next round could potentially be a 6.vs. 2 majority and it can't be THAT simple. I'm going to focus on winning... I guess? I'm really enjoying Timmy so far even though he's given me a few red flags or I'm being lied to hardcore. Austin told me he had a vote reveal however, why would Timmy tell someone who he has said "treated him badly" about a power? So either Timmy is playing me or Austin is playing me. Either way they both can go?! Timmy gives me such weird vibes. I want to trust him but I also think he's going to be a super cut-throat player down the line and that SCARES ME.
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Ok.....with the swap that happened and us losing immunity I really feel my game is over. Which really sucks bc i wanna work with ppl like keegan jess jay chips and zach but I dont feel most of those ppl wanna work with me.  I'm not gonna give up tho . I'm gonna try talking and making deals and doing what I can to save myself.  It's not over til tribal and I have plenty of time. Pleaseeeee atomic gods let me make it through this one vote 
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Me never remember what my last confessional was about? The title of my autobiography. So, we swapped which is super unfortunate but the tribe I got swapped into has a majority OG Jack members. JESS, ZACH, GAVIN, CHIPS and myself against JAY, TIMMY Z and AUSTIN. And then we lose the challenge because math is apparently impossible? Like ZACH either threw the challenge on purpose or he’s just the worst person at math. Either way, we’re going to tribal tonight. The current plan is to stay tribe strong and vote out an OG Annie which is fine by me. JAY is saying he wants to work with me because we’re both previous winners which is a good point. But I’ve got some solid alliances already and I don’t want to mess those up this early into the game. As far as I can tell right now, the plan is to split votes between JAY and AUSTIN with AUSTIN being the primary target since he’s pretty bad at challenges and isn’t likely to work with us down the line. TIMMY apparently spilled the beans about a six person alliance that didn’t include himself or CINDI, so we’re trying to keep him safe and pull him in as a number for the future. Who knows what will happen though. There’s idols to worry about which is why we’re trying to split the vote. 
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This tribe swap makes me so happy because I vibe with these people so much better and it gives me a new chance in this game to fix my activity level. On top of that, we are safe!!! Another round of not having to go to tribal is a good round for me. Who knows why the Annie tribe only wagered $3,000 because that made absolutely no sense but I’m not complaining. Overall, A+ round!
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So this round, i find myself swapped into a tribe of people that are so much better then my old tribe. I was on the outs of that 6 person alliance and I am sure I would have been the next to go for sure. I get a really good vibe off of zach and jess, plus gavin and keegan are cool too. Not to sure about Chips but I have to put my trust in these people for the mean time. As for the challenge, we lost and i knew I was going to vote with the old Jack tribe. We plan on splitting the votes 3 vs 3 with austin and jay voting whoever. Of course in true them style, the moment they found out it was them, they threw me under the bus immediately. Hopefully everything goes as planned tonight and Austin goes home, if not it is going to be me. I have had good convos with people tho and hope that can get me through this tribe.
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Well this swap completely sucks. In the complete minority, someone sold out the alliance to Timmy so I doubt he trusts me anymore. I just tried to be honest with him so he'd see me in a better light and I hope it worked. Beyond that, we lost the challenge and I think my head is on the chopping block. Earlier today Chips came and told me that he's pretty sure the votes are coming down on me and they're gonna tell me Austin to fake me out. And you know, that's probably true because Zach, Keegan, and Gavin have all told me it's Austin. What troubles me is that Chips doesn't seem to have a plan otherwise even though it seems like he wants to do something else. So once Zach told me it's Austin, I had more of a chat with him. He really seems to not want me to go anywhere, which is hard not to believe. Either he's telling me the truth or he's a fantastic liar. Same with Keegan, even though I think it's in both of our best interests to work together going forward. At this point it's clear that it's gonna split between Austin and myself so i worry if I don't vote Austin then I'm just automatically out. Shits really hard in the game right now and all I want is to survive another day.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25eKaudnTmA&feature=youtu.be
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https://imgur.com/31jZcmF
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I am finally not at the bottom. My original tribe has minority and I have prior existing relationships with 2/3 of the og Jack tribe. Plus I have bodhi, whom I absolutely love, on my tribe. I am happy. 
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