#it/its pronouns winter soldier

[mandyyvibes]

Hydra Husbands- 40 …because the world is ending.

Or Winterbones up to you

40- a kiss because the world is ending; winterbones

f i f t e e n h u n d r e d w o r d s

i would love to make this a full fic and put it on ao3 one day goddamn. i kinda popped off.

Brock had never, in all his years of active field duty and life-or-death situations, been so fear-stricken as he had been when he opened his inbox to an email from Pierce.

It wasn’t the mere fact that Pierce sent out an email, one with ATTENTION STRIKE FORCE ALPHA AND CLEARANCE LEVEL EIGHT FACULTY in the subject line that had icy dread curling between Brock’s ribs.

It wasn’t the beginning of the email, in which Pierce sung his praises, gloating about how well the most recent mission had gone, that caused the dread to settle in a pit in Brock’s stomach.

It was what followed, one singular sentence, that had Brock leaping up out of his chair, kicking it to the side and storming out of the restaurant with Jack close behind, practically trembling with the horror that he felt.

The Asset will be permanently decommissioned by March 10th.

The Asset will be permanently decommissioned by March 10th.

Brock was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. There had been talk of budget cuts and the merits of replacing the Asset with something purely mechanical, taking whatever fractured pieces of a human soul that remained within it out of the equation entirely.

It had been a rough couple of months for the Asset and its team. It seemed to need to go back to the chair more and more frequently as time went on; in barely-perceptible moments of weakness its hand would tremble, or it would whimper when no one was near it.

It was breaking. Brock wasn’t stupid.

But he had been foolish enough to hope that the lab coat jackasses would simply come up with a more effective way to wipe it. Something that lasted longer, something that could reach deeper into its brain and remove all the horrors of its successes.

Instead, Pierce was going to have it put down.

“What the fuck, man?” Jack snapped, jogging after Brock to keep up with his rage-fueled pace.

“We’re going to work. Now. Check your phone.”

“God, what is it this time…”

Brock was in the car by the time Jack could read the e-mail, revving the engine impatiently. The beginnings of a plan had already begun forming in his mind, though it did little to settle the nauseous feeling of dread.

Jack opened the passenger door and gave a grim nod, one that said I’m with you on this one.

That’s why he was Brock’s right hand man.

March 10th.

It was March 4th.

He had six days before everything would come crashing down around him. He couldn’t bear to start from scratch- he didn’t want to start from scratch.

This felt closer to the end of the world than any world crisis or alien invasion had ever felt before.

—

“Where is it?” Brock’s voice boomed and ricocheted off of the concrete walls, just decibels away from a shout. He knew he had to keep his cool, to keep up appearances for now.

The handful of technicians busying themselves with paperwork gave him a strange look.

“Cryo prep-“

“No. No, fuck no. Leave it out.”

“Pierce ordered-“

“I don’t give a RAT’S ASS what Pierce ordered. Do you know who the fuck I am?!” He was yelling now, clenching his fists and working his jaw.

“Rumlow,” Came a calm voice from behind him.

Alexander Pierce himself stood at the bottom of the stairwell, many floors below where he usually ventured.

“Sir.” Brock grunted, chastised. He knew that this conversation would impact the entire course of the rest of his life. No room for fuck-ups.

“The most humane way to do this is to leave it in cryo,” Pierce said pointedly, gesturing to the heavy metal door on the far wall. “I understand that this might seem sudden, but Sitwell-“

“Mr. Secretary.” Brock interrupted, shoving his hands in his pocket and taking a step forward, chin raised in a show of nonchalance. “It has served us well for decades. I simply want to see it in action one last time. I’m requesting permission to take it up to the gym to spar-“

“You want to hurt it one last time,” Pierce’s eyebrows were raised. He would’ve been smirking, if he had been capable of such a thing.

“There’s no point keeping it in good condition now,” Brock replied, mirroring his amused expression.

He felt sick.

He felt angry that he felt sick.

“Alright. You can have it for a couple hours. Then it needs to go back into the cryo tank.”

“Thank you, sir. Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.”

Brock let his shoulders sag slightly as Pierce disappeared up the stairs. This is what years of loyalty to this organization had gotten him. A couple hours.

He maneuvered into a camera blind spot and pulled out his phone to text Jack.

—

It was still in its gear from the last mission. No one had even bothered to clean it. Cryo prep, his ass. Those lab coats were just bluffing.

The Asset stood at attention, its back pressed against the wall. It was almost strange to see it like this, its gaunt face exposed, after growing used to seeing it with its muzzle on. It looked like they hadn’t been feeding it enough.

Brock let the door shut behind him and could practically feel the Asset’s fear dissipate, though it didn’t move an inch. He took a step forward.

“Kneel.”

The Asset knelt, falling silently, gracefully, to its knees.

Everything was still. Brock watched it for a couple long moments, waiting for a tremor or a sob, anything that indicated weakness.

It couldn’t know the fate that Pierce had dictated for it.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Brock crossed the room in two strides, resting a hand gently atop its matted hair. He resisted the urge to tug on it and listened to the way its breath deepened. Something primal ached deep within his chest.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Hydra, Sir.”

“And who is your primary handler?”

“Commander Rumlow, Strike Force Alpha, Identification number 06081965,” Its eyes narrowed as if it was processing something, reaching into the depths of its brain to understand. “You, Sir.”

“Good, good job. Look at me,” Brock crouched down, putting himself at its eye level, breaking nearly every protocol in the book- protocol that he had written.

It looked startled when it met his eyes. There was something deer-in-headlights about the icy blue gaze. It looked back at him as if waiting for answers, for instructions, for help.

Brock would have put money on the fact that it could sense his fear. He took a deep breath.

“There’s been an emergency. You are going to come with Rollins and I and listen to every word that we say. No hesitation.”

The sound of a nearby explosion made the Asset break eye contact for half a second, gaze darting to the source of the noise.

Deafening alarms began to ring.

“Soldier!” Brock barked, gripping it by the back of the neck. “What did I say? Look at me, goddammit.”

“Sorry, Sir. Please.”

It held eye contact once again, conveying everything that it couldn’t say with its eyes. It was scared, it was confused, it hadn’t mean to upset him.

“It’s alright. Nothing outside of normal mission parameters, just focus. Any weapons on you?”

“No, sir.”

Brock slipped a knife from his boot, tucking it into one of the many holsters affixed to the Asset’s clothing.

“That’ll do for now, Rollins is bringing in some guns in approximately two minutes. That’s when we move. Do you require anything else for optimal functionality?”

“The Asset has not been provided nutrition in approximately six days, Sir.”

No wonder it fucking trembled. Brock could’ve burnt the whole place down, he was so mad. He reached into his pocket and produced a Jolly Rancher hard candy (Jack’s favorite).

“You see this? This is candy. It’s a reward. You can have it if you do good, if we get out of here. And I’ll get you some real food too.”

“Thank you, Sir,” It all but whispered, still staring at him unblinkingly. It hadn’t even looked away to assess the candy.

It was so good.

It would be good.

Brock stood, keeping time carefully in his head. They had about thirty seconds. He motioned for the Asset to rise and follow him towards the door.

One second passed. Brock turned around and stepped towards it, toeing at its boot with his own.

Two seconds. They would get out together, all three of them. Flee the country. He already had forged paperwork for the Asset.

Three seconds. But if they didn’t…

Four seconds. Brock lifted his chin slightly and leaned in. The Asset remained perfectly still, perfect, lips slightly parted. It breathed in through its nose and out through its mouth.

Five seconds. It exhaled. Brock pressed his lips to it, something chaste and sweet, entirely unlike anything he’d done to it before.

Six, seven, eight, another explosion. The Asset inhaled and exhaled once again. It did not speak.

Brock kissed it again, because he could, because this very well might be his last chance. The rage in his veins popped and simmered like hot grease. Together, or this was the end.

#ask game #winterbones #bucky barnes #winter soldier #winterbones fanfiction #brock rumlow #there’s two easter eggs in this #it/its pronouns winter soldier #bc brock pov but also bc fuck society

[thebleedingeffect]

I'm gonna trans all my ocs genders

Yasha goes by she/her pronouns, Ronin has they/them pronouns, Natalia has he/she/they pronouns, Antoshka has he/they pronouns, and Stephen mostly goes by he/him pronouns BUT he also has a big old soft spot for she/her pronouns to spice it up so he/she pronouns for her

#don't worry if yall dont know who these are theyre REALLY old ocs from my marvel days that I've just made to be my original guys #FORBIDDEN OC LORE but they're heavily based off winter soldier stuff but I basically stole the concept and its all mine now #fun fact. when yasha came out ronin was stunned cause they didnt realize that was a thing #and IMMEDIATELY announced they went by they/them pronouns and it was a whole party #yeah theyre all trans or nb or agender in some way. flavor.

[cosmos-coma]

My Sun, My Star- Part 2

A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for your great comments on part one. I couldn't have asked for a better crowd to receive my work! Because so many people asked for it I've finally written a part 2! I honestly can't tell how good it is any more cause I've probably read it through 12 times in the last two days lol, so enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 7476 (whoops)

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Otherwise GN reader (no pronouns), Occasional use of "Y/n", Injury, Bucky's kind of an ass when hes upset (but redeemable), arguing.

Summary: Bucky finds out that you met the Winter Soldier and he is Not happy.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

Like what I do? buy me a Coffee!

________

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, rough and gritty from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled as you lowered your hand from your face “Bucky...?”

He looked tired, so so tired. What was once sweet blue eyes were now diluted with exhaustion, no longer the brisk gaze you had learned to find comfort in. But still, a smile of relief eased onto your features at the mere sight of him and slowly the spark in his eyes began to return. 

“Bucky!” You rushed to the thick door separating you, your hands eagerly jiggling the locked knob as you tried to get in. All you wanted to do was hold him, to hold his face, his hands; you wanted to feel and squeeze all of him just to know that he was truly back.

“Sheesh, hold on!” Tony complained, “At least let us take the wiring off first, we can’t have you coming in and messing up- hey! HEY, stop smudging the glass!” Tony shouted as he worked quickly to detach the wires of various machines from his head.  

Bucky laughed a bit as he sat up carefully, rolling the pain out of his shoulders and arms when something didn’t feel right. He winced as he felt his soft shoulder complain against the movements and looking over he spotted the bandage taped tight to his skin- a small dot of blood peeking through the solid white; before he could ask about it Tony was already sending a technician to unlock the door. 

“Alright, alright, we’re opening the door, stop your jiggling…” the billionaire griped.

As soon as you saw your opening you ran straight for him, your leg be damned as you stumbled into his waiting arms, “Bucky, my heart...” you whispered with relief as you hugged him as close as you possibly could. It was times like these when you cursed your body’s rotund transformation as it refused to let you get that much closer to him. But none of it mattered as his strong arms wrapped around you in turn, flooding you with the familiar scent and warmth of his amber-like musk. 

“Hey, Doll…” The super soldier rasped softly in your ear, his voice still a little rough from the muffled shouts of pain just minutes before. His brow tightened and he held in a wince at the impact of your hug, refusing to let you see him falter as pain jolted his shoulder. 

“What are you still doing up?” he asked with a smile, the roughness finally easing away and slipping back into the smooth rumble of his natural voice. His eyes trailed down your face and body, stopping abruptly at the bandage wrapped around your calf. He frowned as his brows creased together uneasily, “What happened to your leg? Who-” he started to ask, but before he had a chance to finish Tony interrupted with his usual reminders. 

“Alright, I’m sure you remember-” He paused a moment, shrugging, “well, maybe- that although you may not remember anything now, it should all come back over time,” Tony said as he typed updates into Bucky’s file. “Given that this wasn’t a very long recession- just a few hours- you should remember everything in a couple of days,” he decided with a firm nod, looking over to the disheveled man. “Do you remember anything from last night?” 

Bucky shook his head, “I remember the basement and the flashing lights…I remember following Sam back out to the jet, but it starts getting fuzzy there,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was exhausted from switching back and forth and he really didn’t have the energy to delve into it much longer. “I think I remember coming back to the tower, but it’s not clear.”

“Hm, Interesting,” Tony remarked as he typed in a few more long lines into the already lengthy files. Bucky couldn’t quite make out the words on the pages and pages of information on himself and the Winter Soldier, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. 

“Well,” continued Tony, looking at you now, “seeing as I’ve heard that your front door is in a state of disrepair-” 

“-Kicked in,” you corrected swiftly, making Bucky’s concern rise. 

“Semantics, ” Tony disregarded with a wave of his hand, “-you two are welcome to stay in the tower until we get it fixed. Barnes’ old room is still open; I trust you two remember the way there?” 

----

You stepped into Bucky’s old room, a few personal items still scattered around here and there, but barely anything significant. Strong arms snaked around your waist, careful of your belly as they pulled you close against their firm frame.

Soft laughter bubbled from your chest as you gazed up at him, your head leaning back against his solid build, “Just like old times, huh?” You mumbled happily as you rubbed your hand up and down his forearms. 

“Mmm, back when I used to sneak you into the tower every other night?” his body rumbled with a gentle laugh, remembering the fond moments. The two of you lingered in the peaceful space for a moment, both of you happy to have finally put the stress of the past few hours behind you. Large hands smoothed down your rounded belly, inching the fabric of his sweatshirt up so he could feel his little girl properly.

You hummed softly, contentment easing into your every pore as you let out a big yawn. You were finally feeling the full weight of the day and you wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the small mattress. You pulled back, bringing his knuckles up for a  quick kiss as you stepped away, “I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’m beat…we both are,” you said with a gentle pat to your belly. 

Bucky nodded as he watched you leave his arms, your gait just slightly uneven as you tried to hide the extent of your limp, “Doll…” he called, causing you to glance back. 

“You never answered me earlier. What happened to your leg? And what did Stark mean by our door being broken in…?” he asked, watching closely as you stood with your back to him. Your shoulders tensed the slightest bit as he asked, your gaze turning away as you searched desperately for the right way to tell him. 

“I… It was an accident….” you said, trying to ease him into it as you started explaining from the beginning “I was at home in bed when-” You started, but he had already begun connecting the dots. The basement, the blood, the lapse in memory, only to finally find himself awake in Tony’s lab? It was all too familiar.

“You met him, didn’t you?” He asks quietly, “The Winter Soldier….”  The room went silent as you hesitated to answer, only the tremble of your beating heart to be heard in your ears, but it was all the reply he needed. 

He could feel the growing heat of anger simmer beneath his skin. He had failed you- he couldn’t frame it in any other way. He had tried so hard for so many years to keep you from meeting him, to keep you safe, and now- in your most vulnerable state- he had failed. Deep in his heart, he knew he was only angry with himself, but knowing it still didn’t seem to stop the way his words bubbled over and burned, “Why didn’t you tell me? Did he do this to you?” He pointed at your bandage, his anger was simmering into a rolling boil when it suddenly crashed into an icy panic.

“Shit, did he-” He gulped and continued with the faintest shuddering his breath, “Did he try to…? ” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, the thought too scary to speak into existence as his hand fell to your bump in worry. As an assassin his targets had always been adults in the past; would the Winter Soldier really target a child? Bucky couldn’t say for certain either way and that was enough for him to worry.

“What...? Bucky, no. He would never-“ 

“Do not tell me what he would and would not do, Y/n,” he seethed, using your name for the first time in what felt like forever. You had always been his doll….

“You think I don’t know the things he’ll do? You think I don’t see them again and again at night? No one is an exception to him, not even you-“

“But I-“ 

“And if you truly believe that-” his voice grew lower, his anger coming out in slicing breaths as he spoke, “-then maybe you’re not as smart as you let people believe you are….” 

You suck in a sharp breath as his last words hit you. You felt like a bucket of ice was thrown directly over your head and your brain reeled as it tried to make sense of it all. ‘Did he… did he really just say what I think he said?’  you questioned, but your brain just played those thorn-covered words on repeat, rubbing the truth into your open wounds. You tried not to take them to heart, you knew it had been a long day for the both of you, but how could you not? 

You took a shuddering breath as you looked down, tears welling in your eyes that you willed him not to see. You were too tired for this.

“Y/n..” he sighed as he watched you wordlessly gather his old clothes, long forgotten in the drawers from when he first moved in with you all that time ago. “Y/n, Where are you going? Come back here…” 

“I’m going to find another room.” You explained simply, forcing calmness into your tone, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Doll, I’m sorry-”

“No.” You said firmly, causing him to raise his eyebrows a bit as slowly you turned to face him, “I'm far too tired for this tonight, James. it’s been a long night, we’re both in pain, and you obviously need some time to cool down, because the Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,” You struggled to hold in your venom as you harshed out those last words, “Goodnight, Bucky.”

You let the welled-up tears finally break free as the door clicked closed behind you. Sniffling back the onslaught you wiped away your tears to peek around the hall, eventually settling on the room just across from his. “FRIDAY? Open up the door to room 7 please…” you asked, relieved when she did exactly as you asked- you’d have to thank Tony for that later. 

“Shit,” Bucky sighed into the empty room, now far too quiet for his liking. He always did everything he could hold to keep his anger in check with you, and it had been easy for the most part. Loving you had always come easy to him, and so he rarely had anything to be upset about. But this? This was new for him…. everything the Winter Soldier did was a means to an end. He was a deceiver, it was programmed into him over the decades and he couldn’t bear to let you fall prey to his games too.

Sleep eluded you for a while as you tossed and turned. You weren’t used to sleeping without him by your side, especially when you knew he was just a step and a knock away. But eventually, through your exhaustion, sleep finally came and you dreamed about your star that very night.

You dreamed of his eyes. Those intense blues that had rattled you so unexpectedly just hours ago. You were sure Bucky was wrong. Those eyes didn’t hold malice when they looked at you. No, they held knowing, like he had finally figured out a piece of himself. As if he had finally seen an aspect of what he could- no, what he would be. 

You also dreamed of his smile. As awkward and unpracticed as it was you still loved it. It was nowhere near as bright as Bucky’s, but it held reverence for you all the same. 

You dreamed of the promises he made against your belly. While you couldn’t distinguish the words he had said, you knew exactly what they meant; protection, strength, and the promise to return…. 

When you finally awoke your heart rang with a pang of guilt. Your dream-state comfort had been that of an assassin, an engineered “weapon”- and your heart’s blood-stained other half…. You sighed as you rubbed the sleep from your face. Was it right to be finding comfort in his icy blues instead of Bucky’s warm ones? Your thoughts fought each other for barely a minute more before you were brought back to the “talk” you and Bucky had yesterday. ‘He wouldn’t even listen to me! And then he’s going to go and call me stupid?! AGH’ you huffed as you slammed your fists down on the bed, your hands bouncing in an unsatisfying manner. 

Rolling out of bed, you got changed into Bucky’s old clothes, smoothing down the oversized items as you poked your head out of the room. All was quiet in the hallway and only a couple of distant voices could be heard from the kitchen and living area. Holding your belly you hobbled out, your leg searing with each step as you kept your head on a swivel for a certain super soldier. You weren’t quite ready to talk to him yet, all your frustrations still pumping through your blood in a slow but consistent course, However, your heart still found itself craving his familiar presence. 

A fleeting disappointment hung over you when you realized he was nowhere to be found, instead discovering Natasha and Sam as they chatted over breakfast. 

“It was.. weird, Nat. I know my interactions with him in the past have been limited, but I’ve never seen him like that before” Sam said and you knew they were talking about last night.

“Hey, you two…” You interrupted, causing them to pause as they watched you enter, but neither seemed uneasy as you butted in. 

“Y/N…” Sam greeted with a small smile, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine to get something started for you, “How’s it going? It looks like your leg is still bothering you…” 

“Yeah... it’s burning more than last night, ” you rubbed your hand gently over your bandages in an attempt to soothe it, but it only stung more in retaliation. “Ah..” you hissed as you immediately retreated, “Yeah, it’s just a little sensitive….”

“We have some topical anesthetic and fresh bandages in the first aid kit if you want. I can grab them if Sam Is okay finishing off the rest of the pancakes?” the redhead proposed, holding the spatula out to him in an offering. 

“Oh?? I, Sam Wilson, get to finish making Natasha’s famous pancakes? What an honor,” He laughed as he feigned his esteemed admiration, taking the spatula and flipping the few already sitting in the pan.

 Nat grinned brightly as she made her way down the hall, whispering as she went past, “Truthfully? It’s a box mix. I just add vanilla and nutmeg and they never know the difference.”

You chuckled as you watched her go off to fetch the kit, truly thankful for the break in tension you were already feeling. You hadn’t gotten to know Natasha very well yet, on the off chance you visited the tower she was usually busy with missions, training, or paperwork, yet she welcomed you all the same. Part of you wondered if it was the former assassin in her that let her find friendship in you. After all, if you could love Bucky despite the Winter soldier, then surely you could be her friend despite her past, right?

You took a seat at the island's raised stools, watching Sam as he tried not to let the pancakes overcook. “So, Where is Bucky this morning?” You asked him, trying to be casual as you crossed your arms over the counter, thanking him as he placed a cup of decaf in front of you. 

But Sam paused; you always knew where Bucky was, sometimes more than they did at this stage in your pregnancy. He even swore sometimes that you two were attached at the hip. The fact that you didn’t know means something must’ve happened last night after he got reset. 

“He joined Steve on his morning run,” he answered as he leaned against the island opposite you, rolling his eyes as he continued, “It’s always ‘on your left…!’ when I run with him. I hope he gives Steve a run for his money this time…” he shook his head and smiled a bit as he watched you, trying to check in, but you just laughed, your face cracking into a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“Speaking of your elusive super soldier…” Nat started as she returned, getting straight to the point as both her curiosity and old spy ways got the best of her, ”I heard the infamous Winter Soldier made an appearance last night...” She eyed you as well as she set the first aid kit down.

You tried to keep your smile, but as the conflicting thoughts and feelings of just last night resurfaced it was no time before it slipped away. You frowned at your mug, watching the dark swirls that lingered amongst the cream you added, “He did… he showed up at the house last night unexpectedly.”

Natasha’s frown matched yours as she spoke, “That bad, huh?”

“No, not at all. I mean, besides the almost getting shot part-“ you motioned as you began unwrapping your leg, your gash now open for the world to see. Though It was still a blazing red, it didn’t seem infected and for that you were thankful. 

Her eyebrows shot up as she looked over your wound, it was a good-sized graze and a very near miss, “Y/N do we need to have a talk about toxic relationships?” 

“What? No, Nat-” You waved her off, trying to get back on track as you began carefully cleaning it, “he’s not the one who shot me.” 

You didn’t miss the way Nat’s eyes darted to Sam, surprise written on her face for just a moment before her collected expression came back. “He didn’t? That seems….”

“I told you…He was different last night,  he was on the defensive this time.” Sam chimed in, tying back to their earlier conversation that you had interrupted.

You nodded in agreement and continued, “It was the security team that shot me, some new kid. I didn’t recognize his number or his face,” You explained. You couldn’t even be angry at that poor dumb soul either, he more than got what was coming to him. All you could hope for was that he learned something when he was dangling so uselessly in the air. 

Sam thought for a moment, back to the bristling frustration he saw written all over Bucky as he left this morning, enough that he worried the Winter Soldier might have made a second appearance. His concerns dissipated when Steve managed to pat the man’s shoulder without receiving an immediate knife to the throat, but now it made him wonder, “Does Bucky know this?”

Your expression softened and you continued to frown as you took a small sip, “No… I tried to talk about it with him last night, but he didn’t want to hear anything after he learned who I met,” you huffed with annoyance, not even bothering to hide it from your two friends. 

Sam nodded and held his hand up, “Well, I can’t say much since we only came in on the end, but maybe Bucky would listen to the body cam footage?”

You paused, blinking a few times as you processed what he said, “Body cam footage?” You questioned, setting the roll of bandages down, “What do you mean?”

“The security team is always required to wear body cameras when they go out. They should be reviewing it now,” Natasha explained. 

You nearly jumped out of your chair, the pain in your leg the only thing holding you back. This could be it! If he wouldn’t believe your words, then maybe he’d believe his own eyes. Bucky deserved to know what kind of man his other side of him really was; he deserved to know that you loved him wholly, finding comfort in both sides of the coin. 

You were determined not to give up on your star, because while Bucky had his friends to back him up, your Soldat had no one. No one, but you. 

“Where can I get it?” You rushed to ask, looking back between the two, who in turn exchanged glances with one another. 

Natasha took over pancake duty as Sam slid a plate in front of you and said, “It should be available sometime tomorrow, I can let them know you want a copy. Since you were the one caught in the crossfire they shouldn’t have a problem giving you access.” 

You nodded quickly, excitement and relief easing into your shoulders as you took your plate, letting out a breath you didn’t you were holding. 

This was it. 

--------

Bucky’s feet hit the pavement in time with his steady heart, maneuvering past people like boxes in crowded alleyways. He was supposed to be on a run with Steve, but his mind had been wandering the whole time.  ‘The Bucky I know? He would never speak to me like this,’ you had told him, so calm and so even that he honestly wished you had just screamed at him. His legs went into autopilot as your words rattled around his head. You were right, never in his waking minutes would it have ever crossed his mind to say those things to you. He was just so tired, so scared, and to top it all off it seemed like you had completely forgotten his warnings on the Soviet assassin. Or worse- that you purposefully went against them.

“Buck? Bucky!” Steve’s voice finally reached his ears as a hand grabbed his shoulder. 

“What? What is it..?” The brunet shook himself from his thoughts as he slowed to a stop, looking back at his friend.

“Where are you going? The tower is this way,” Steve shot a thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction, the tower in plain view above the surrounding shops. 

Bucky stopped, blinking as he tried to process his surroundings. Where was he going? There was nothing in this direction except-

The apartment. 

Bucky sighed as he quieted the subtle itch at the back of his mind, “Nothing, nothing. Just lost in my thoughts. I’m here now,” he assured, to which Steve nodded, but obviously did not believe. He was always too smart for his own good.

“Let’s head back to the tower, okay? It’ll be our final mile. We can even stop by the bakery on our way.” 

Bucky willed himself to keep his thoughts in line as they ran their last mile, the tension in his body slowly unwinding only as they came to a stop and stepped into the sweet-smelling bakery. His senses were hit with a deluge of warm bread and spices that seemed to quiet his nerves for the time being. 

“What can I get for you, sugar?” the older woman behind the counter asked. Her smile was tired as she nursed an old cup of coffee and Bucky assumed she had been there since its opening hours ago. 

“Oh, um…” Bucky hummed as he looked through their displays, his heart really wasn’t in it like he wished it was. He was about to step back without getting anything when he spotted a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls coming out of the back. Cinnamon rolls had always been one of your favorite treats and he had rescued many a bad day with a surprise from the bakery. Maybe he could turn this bad day around too.

“Three cinnamon rolls, and three of the blueberry lemon rolls too. Uh, and a black coffee…. Please.” He asked, pulling his wallet out. 

“Sounds like you’re having quite the party,” she commented with a little chuckle as she filled up a box with fragrant pastries. 

“Ah, almost…I’m trying to make it up to someone,” He admitted sheepishly.

“Hm…” She hummed, looking right through him with practiced eyes, “You want me to throw some heart-shaped sprinkles in there or is that too much?” 

A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth, “I think it’s gonna be just right.” 

Bucky rehearsed the whole walk back, running his apology through his head dozens and dozens of times until it felt perfect. You still didn’t seem to grasp the level of danger you were in or how lucky you were to get out with just a scratch, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to listen if you were still angry with him. Maybe this would smooth things over enough for him to explain- for him to tell you all the things he did, all the things his hands will forever be stained with. 

You knew the gist of it of course. Bucky had made it a point to let you know exactly what had happened to him over those years and exactly what his job as a living weapon was. The last thing he had wanted was for you to resent him for tricking you into loving him. But you deserved to know more, and these gooey pastries going to be his entry point.

Yes. He’d give you the treats, say his well-thought-out apology, and then he could finally explain. Hopefully, then you’d understand.

Well, that was the plan anyway.

As the doors opened up to their desired floor, Bucky could hear you before he even saw you. Your laugh rang like bells as you chatted away with Natasha and Sam, his heart bolstering with hope that your good mood would only make it better as he stepped forward. 

“Hey, Do-“ he started before his eyes landed on your leg. It was propped up on the stool beside you as you were obviously in the middle of caring for it. He hadn’t had a chance to see it yet, part of him not wanting to know just how bad it was, but now there was no ignoring it. It was bright red, yelling its ferocity and pain as you tried to air it out. The wound itself was still trying to heal over, its soft vulnerable flesh showing barely any sign of scabbing. Blood stained your old bandage and it all made his stomach twist without mercy. 

His mind couldn’t negotiate with him how bad it was anymore. Even though it was just a graze, he could see how painful and uncomfortable it was for you. He had failed you. What if it had just been an inch over? What if it had hit your bump? What if it had hit your heart? 

He didn’t even realize he had crushed the flimsy cup in his hands until Steve stepped back, saying something about getting paper towels. Scorching coffee steamed up from his metal hand where it continued to drip into the puddle below it.

You looked over in surprise as you heard the splash, seeing your Bucky standing there with an intensity so adamant that you almost mistook him for someone else. But his eyes aren’t staring at you, per se, but your leg. 

“Bucky, It’s okay, really-“ you tried, but he would not hear you; He wouldn’t hear anyone as he dropped his cup, the loud clattering in the quiet room almost more jarring than anything he could have said back. “Buck. Bucky, wait-!” but he was already walking away, forcing his gaze ahead as he passed by you like a ghost. 

You tried to reach out, to grab his sleeve, but he slipped right through your fingers. 

“Barnes, come on…” Natasha gently scolded, but he still refused to react. 

You blinked back your shock, willing the threat of tears to subside when you heard the loud thud of his door closing behind him. You let out a shuddering breath, your hands rubbing down your face and you wondered just how long this was going to last. 

After taking a few minutes to re-wrap your leg, hoping maybe he had cooled down once more you made your way down the hall. “Hm?” You mused wordlessly as you saw the small white box placed on the ground before your door. Being careful of your protruding bump, you squatted down- earning a small kick of protest- and lifted up the lid. 

‘Cinnamon rolls… my favorite. And he even got us a special flavor…. ‘

With utmost care, you closed the box again and turned to face his door. “Bucky? My heart…?” You tried as you knocked on his door, putting your ear against it as you listened in.

Silence.

You tried again, louder this time, “Bucky, are you in there...?” But were again met with nothing. Was he really ignoring you now? “Please, can we just talk?” 

Quiet.

Your skin couldn’t help but burn as you tried to hold in your frustration. ‘So now he doesn’t want to talk to me? What did I even do?!’ You thought as you dug your nails into your palms, using the sharp pain to ground you once more. 

With a deep breath, you turned, picked up the white box, and left him to his begotten silence.

---------

Bucky’s ears were deaf to your calls as the shower rained over him, washing off the coffee and grime of the whole morning. His breath broke through the steam as he sighed, dipping his head under the rush of scorching water as if it would wash away his worries too; It almost worked until a searing headache made itself known. 

The pain rippled in violent waves that came out of nowhere, consuming him suddenly and causing him to reach out blindly for the support of the slick wall. It was worse than getting kicked straight in the head, but he knew from experience that fighting it would only make it hurt more. 

Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he made the perfect dark theater as flashes and snippets of memories played behind his eyes. 

“Bucky…?” A vibrant grin spread across your lips, lighting up the room brighter than the phone on your bedside table. Someone was calling you, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away and the more he watched, the more your face changed. 

Your eyes squinted as you looked deeper into him and for a moment he could swear you saw the heavy weight of loneliness that ached in his chest. He felt the coldness of his expression, emotionless and lifeless save for the way his brows knit together, eyes searching yours with confusion and… wanting? Your brows knit together, almost a reflection of himself he thought, as you seemed to consider who you looked at. 

He could feel the smooth cold weight of the knife in his hand as he took a step closer, his head shaking slowly. 

Then suddenly your gaze took on a horrified expression, your eyes darting to the phone to see who was calling. 

“Soldat…” You whispered. You tried to steel yourself, but he heard the way your nervous voice shook- he saw the way your pulse thrummed rapidly in your neck. As the phone went dark he took another step- quiet, so as not to send you running. 

Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the room once more as he stood above you now and you looked so scared, but his expression did not change. Did he feel anything as he saw your cowering form below him? Or was he just another husk of a weapon? Could he ever be anything more?

He glanced at the phone; his time with you had been interrupted again- your attention was drawn from him again. And he couldn’t have that. A low growl rumbled from his chest as you tried to reach for it, and immediately you recoiled again. He would take care of this. He would take care of you.

Wordlessly he declined the call and left you in darkness again. While his knife slipped away, his metal hand reached out. Something in him called desperately to feel your skin beneath cool unforgiving metal. He needed to see all the ways your soft scared body reacted under his touch.

He would take care of you. 

“Please… Just don’t hurt her..” you begged.  

Bucky sucked in desperate breaths as the memories of just yesterday finally faded. The headache lingered, but it was nothing compared to the incessant twisting of his heart in his chest.

What did he do to you…?

-----

You found solace in the quiet of your room after Bucky refused to answer the door, wrapping yourself in the comfort of your duvet rather than his arms. You sighed, looking about the empty room as you leaned your head against the armchair you sat in. “Hey there, baby…” you cooed quietly to your belly, your words immediately met with excited kicks. “Enjoying the rolls as much as I am?” you laughed a bit as you took another bite of your pastry. 

You were lost in the one-sided conversation between you and your belly when a knock came at your door. You furrowed your brow as you sat up a bit wondering who it could be, only to sigh and lean back again, “Nat, I’m not sure I’m really in the mood for-”

“It’s Bucky…”

You paused, your mind at war with whether you ignored him like he ignored you… when you received a swift kick to the ribs, your baby firmly letting you know you were acting stupid. “Ah, ow- Okay, okay. You win… nice kick….” You mumbled to the inevitable bruise forming inside you. 

“FRIDAY, Unlock the door to room 7, please?” you requested, to which she gladly complied. 

As the door let out a soft click you watched your boyfriend’s head slowly peek inside, a faint smile growing on his features as his eyes finally settled on you. “Doll…” he breathed as if the simple action blessed him with life.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your features before you quickly pulled it all back in. You were still frustrated with him and you weren’t going to let him off so easily. You had to be strong and stick up for the Winter Soldier, after all, it was the least you could do. 

“Do you like them…? I know they’re your favorite,” he smiled as he motioned to the box of pastries, taking a few steps closer until he stood an arm's reach away. You wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of him against you and the tight safety of his arms, but that would have to wait.

“I do… Thank you,” you smiled faintly down at the box as you pulled the blanket tighter around you. 

He nodded, the ends of his lips remaining curled in a small smile, “I’m… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to say those things, or imply that I don’t think you’re the smartest one in the room because you are.” His eyes cast down in shame before moving back up to you. He looked worn, as if he had been beating himself up for hours and you wanted nothing more than to take it all away. 

“I was tired, and in pain, and scared...” He tried to hide the slight tremble in his voice as he remembered the way his thoughts raced when he first learned you had met the Soldier. He frowned as he fought off the memory that had resurfaced just a short while ago as he continued, “I don’t mean to make excuses, and it won’t happen again, I just-,” he frowned, his jaw setting as he steeled himself and took a breath, “I can’t imagine the ways he must’ve hurt you, or the ways he intended to. It makes me sick to think that I wasn’t there to do anything, and even sicker to know I was the one doing them….”

But it was your turn to frown now, “Bucky, My heart. I keep trying to tell you he didn’t hurt me, He would never….” You assured, but this argument was beginning to look all too familiar.

“Doll, you can’t tell me that you really believe that…? You know the things he’s done, the indiscriminate blood on his hands-” he sighed as he also felt the argument beginning to go around in circles. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth FRIDAY interrupted, “Guest Y/N, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Romanoff has requested your presence in the living area. She asks that you do not delay.” 

You sighed as you looked at Bucky, who seemed to be just as confused as you were. Nevertheless, you peeled yourself from your blanket cocoon, steadying yourself on the chair’s arm briefly before heading toward the door. You could feel him following behind you, trying to stay a few steps back both in punishment to himself, and the urge to give you space.

You glanced back at him, offering your hand as you slowly made your way down the hall. Bucky took it immediately, holding your hand like it was a lifeline and you gently tugged him closer, urging him to fall in step beside you as you leaned on him for support; he has never been happier to be your crutch.

As the two of you walked into the living space you saw Natasha standing firm in front of the TV with the remote in her hands. Sam and Steve looked back from their place on the couch, waving a bit at each of you as you joined the group.

Before either of you could ask any questions Natasha got straight to the point, “Alright, I’m done feeling the tension between you two in the tower… you two have been arguing about something that- all in all, you two should just be happy went as good as it did..” she motioned for you two to take a seat before continuing, “But because you two are still at odds with each other I’ve asked to get the body cam footage expedited. We have the best of what they’ve gone through already and Barnes? I really think you should watch it…” she said with a pointed look and clear knowing. 

He cast an uneasy glance at Sam and Steve, but when he received a simple nod in return he nodded too, tugging you gently onto the seat beside him. With a sigh, he nodded at Nat to start the video. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see it, but he was on a mission and he fucked up, he deserved to know just how spectacularly he did it. 

You also motioned to Natasha, and she started the video. However, you could barely keep your eyes on the screen, instead, your eyes were glued to your beloved soldier’s face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. 

Bucky tensed as the video started with the security team breaking through your door, leaving it broken and barely on its hinges as they rushed their way through the house. He took in a sharp breath as the video continued and he saw himself standing over you, the bunching of the sweatshirt making it evident that your baby- his baby- was fully exposed. But it wasn’t until he turned that Bucky’s body started to unwind, his expression still a mask of confusion as he saw you grab the assassin’s hand, his grip giving a comforting squeeze. 

“He…” 

Bucky’s heart twinged with conflicted feelings as you called out to the team, begging them not to shoot, while still pleading with him to stand down. He could see the look in the Soldier’s eyes, but it wasn’t one he recognized… It was tangled; a war between gentleness, vulnerability, and the unrelenting fight he had had beaten into him years and years ago. The Soldier stood unyielding, shielding the most vulnerable parts of you with his body as he brandished the small knife.

“He was… protecting you…?” Bucky whispered as he looked away, turning his eyes to your teary ones. Despite trying to blink them away, a few still found their escape down your cheeks.

“It’s all he wanted…” You nodded, trying to fight back the renewing well in your eyes, but you knew how it all ended, and though you knew he was still alive you couldn’t help but feel the loss of him still. “ He just wanted a place to call home, a place to be safe…” 

Bucky’s hand gripped yours, giving its own reassuring squeeze as he turned back to the screen. ‘My Sun…’ he called you, pure reverence and love in his voice that Bucky had never expected to hear from him. ‘My Star…’ you had called him back, desperate and pleading eyes as he turned back to you. 

The security team shouted at him to comply again, and the body cam shifted, showing a young kid whose gun trembled as if he was in the middle of a terrible earthquake. The woman wearing the camera recognized his anxiety and tried to talk him down, but he couldn’t listen and his gun went off with a bang. Bucky could see the kid’s surprise as he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the fear as you clutched desperately to your wounded leg. 

He winced as he saw the assassin’s cold expression return and again as a shot lodged square into his shoulder. He knew what was coming before he even lifted the kid in the air, your begging and crying out for his life ringing loudly in the background. No wonder you had been so adamant about defending him, he had done just the same for you. 

When the kid was dropped, yet still breathing and the Soldier returned to you Nat finally cut off the video, sighing a bit at the overbearing air of the room. 

Everything was quiet for a moment as Bucky took in the weight of the video until Sam and Steve broke the silence. 

“We were able to convince him to come back to the tower to be reset after that…”

“He was the one who patched up Y/n’s leg, and vice versa…”

You nodded in agreement, wiping your dry cheeks as you felt tears beginning to return, “He knew he had to go… and he was happy to do so. I think…” You took a breath as Bucky reached over to wipe the falling tears, “I think he was just happy to know he finally had more, more than one purpose.” 

Quietly Natasha waved everyone else from the room, giving you two much-needed space. 

“That’s why I’m so sure, Bucky... He would never hurt us,” you rested your hand on your belly, “He took bullets for us, just like I know you would- and I have no doubt that he’d do it again. And god, Buck- he loves her so much,” you choked out a sob as you spoke, “He promised her the absolute world and he can’t wait to meet her…” 

“Doll…” 

“And I can’t wait either,” you said firmly despite your current teary disposition, “I’m glad I finally met him, Bucky. Because despite the separation you and the team refer to him with he is still a part of you.” You looked into the softening eyes of your beloved as you continued “And I know he’s not a part you’re proud of but that won’t make him disappear. I know the things he’s done, and I know that you blame yourself for them, but his actions are not yours….” You said.

“I can’t condone the things he’s done, but I know what he’s doing now, and I know that no matter what you think of him I love every part of you, James Barnes. Even the parts you don’t want me to see.”

Bucky’s eyes blinked as they looked down trying to contain the swell of emotions creeping dangerously close to the edge. Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your palm like it was worship, “I love you so much, Y/n… I’m sorry I didn't listen before. And though it still makes me hesitate, I’m glad you finally know who he is. He- We are beyond lucky to have you, and even luckier that you somehow manage to love the both of us. I was worried you’d hate me for him...” 

“Oh, my heart… I could never stop loving you in any way that would last.”

_____________

Bucky Taglist:

@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @mirtaqueen @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @aagn360 @nialiuwanderlust @waywardhunter95

thanks to everyone who wanted to be tagged this chapter! If you want to be added to the general Bucky taglist please just let me now!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier!bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier imagine

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Being visited by Bucky Barnes

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: Gender Neutral! Reader, They/Them/Theirs

~~~

You listened to a mixture of the radio's music station, the news on the television, and the lively city outside your apartment where the honking of cars and overlapping sound of chatter created a song of its own. You spared the TV a glance before returning your attention to the clothes scattered around the bed, sorting through them and folding each article. It still felt odd, in some way, to return to a normal life after years of being kept busy with S.H.I.E.L.D. So many missions, so many close calls, so many enemies. You could hardly recall the distant, fuzzy memories of your life before becoming an agent. It'd all been so different back then. 

Your fingers curled around a small shirt and you raised it up, fondly gazing over the Captain America t-shirt your son had begged you to buy a few weeks prior. Your little reason for leaving the agent's life behind, to ensure he'd never become collateral damage or just another civilian casualty. Still, the news of his existence had been the only reason you left. If it'd been up to you, you would've continued working alongside Nick Fury and the Avengers team. But life forged another path for you. 

With a soft sigh, you folded up his shirt and set it atop his pile of clothes. You scooped them up into your arms and headed toward his bedroom, delicately setting the small tower of clothes on the bed. The sound of the dryer stopped and you hummed quietly to yourself, stepping out of his room and making your way through the apartment to the small laundry room, picking up the basket along the way. You set the basket down and popped open the dryer, crouching down and tugging the warm, dried clothes into the basket until the dryer was empty. You slipped your fingers around the handles and rose, only to flinch at the sight of the figure watching you. The basket slipped from your hands, landing on the ground with a soft thump as you instinctively backed up. Your mind flickered through the various spots where you'd hidden different guns and knives before finally recognizing the man.

"You need a better security system," Bucky murmured, his arms folded over his chest as his gaze trailed over the hallway he stood in. You inhaled deeply, pressing a hand to your chest and feeling your heart thumping wildly, the beginning of a headache creeping in from the scare. 

"Christ, Barnes," You exhaled, rubbing your fingertips over your forehead. "I have a front door."

"Didn't want to start rumors that could get back to your boy." He responded with a light shrug, his vibrant blue eyes returning to your figure. "Cute kid, by the way. It's a good thing he takes after you." 

You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes, noting the way the corner of his lips quirked up into a faint amused smile. "Yeah, whatever, Barnes. Why are you here, anyway? You couldn't have given me a call?" You asked him, picking the basket back up from the floor and stepping out into the hallway. 

"I don't have your number," Bucky said, following you to the living room and arching a brow when you dumped the clothes over the couch. He tore his attention away from the mess to focus on you again and cleared his throat. "I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James 'Bucky' Barnes, and you're part of my efforts to make amends. As per my pardon... and therapy sessions, I am to make amends with those I've hurt and fix the things I did as the Winter Soldier."

"You broke into my apartment-"

"The window by the fire escape was unlocked. I'd hardly call it breaking in. Like I said, you need a better security system." You squinted at him. Bucky sighed heavily. "Yes, I broke into your apartment."

"Uh-huh, so, you did that to... apologize? For what, exactly? Shooting at me? Dislocating my shoulder? Nearly breaking my leg? Trying to kill my boss and coworkers?" 

"All- All of that. I... I was in the neighborhood and you were on my list. I thought I'd stop by and apologize for the damage I caused or could've caused." Bucky explained, reaching into the pocket of his coat and pulling out a small notebook. He slipped the pen out from the spiral and flipped through the pages until he stopped on one and crossed something out. With that done, he tucked it back into his coat. "I was actually hoping I could make it up to you."

"Yeah?" You raised your brows at him and began sorting through your laundry, shaking your head lightly at the whole ordeal. "And how exactly are you planning to do that, Barnes?"

"This isn't exactly how I'd do this typically but... I thought I could take you out to dinner."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #fem reader #x gender neutral reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x male reader #marvel x female reader #marvel x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x male reader #james bucky barnes

[musings-of-miss-j]

no rest for the wicked (nor the foolish)

part two: in which you come to discover that your supervisor, the infamous Doctor, is every bit as unnerving as his reputation paints him (and make a new friend or two)

a harbingers x gn reader series!! (includes dottore, childe, arlecchino and pantalone x reader. the rest of the harbingers will most likely not be romantic interests)

notes: slowburn slower than my physics teacher when it comes to marking papers, crack, fluff, no pronouns but reader is referred to as 'miss', slightly suggestive, reader is a little socially anxious and a lot sarcastic

please inform me if you find any pronoun slips!!

status: ongoing, updates every thursday-saturday

series masterlist

word count: 5.8k words

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  

Predictably, your eyes opened just as the first weak rays of morning sunlight shone through the window. You lay in bed a little longer after waking up, savouring the warmth, trying to decipher the silver writing on the ceiling and cursing the Akademiya for instilling the urge to wake up so early. A half-hearted glimpse at your pocket watch confirmed what you already knew; it was just after six in the morning. With no small amount of grumbling (even the rush of nervousness from sleeping in a foreign building wasn’t enough to tamper your irritation at being awake) you tossed aside the blankets (Mona’s voice in your head began to rant about the importance of having a morning routine that started with making the bed, by the Mistress of Stars, you can’t just leave them in a heap like that-)

At the very least, you had your own bathroom. This was certainly a welcome change from the Akademiya, where dorms of two people had to share one, and your gratefulness lasted about as long as it took for your bare feet to touch the freezing ceramic tiles of its floor.

You yelped. Supremely embarrassing on multiple levels, but you still think that the situation warranted the reaction; the floor must have been zero degrees. Zero degrees Kelvin. A series of colourful curses and rummaging through your bags to find your face wash later, you left the bathroom dressed in the outfit Lisa had picked out for you. Elegant and business-like, she’d called it, but you couldn’t help but feel like unnecessarily restricting was a more accurate way to describe it. You tugged at the collar of the shirt to loosen it, and ultimately gave up on the skirt. The temperature was less than optimal to wear anything that didn’t offer full coverage from head to toe, and you substituted it for a pair of black trousers and your shiny new boots. You toyed with the idea of wearing your old Akademiya lab coat but ultimately decided against it, and it was at that point you realised you were completely overthinking the matter and you’d probably been staring at your reflection in the slightly frosted-over mirror in the corner of the room for too long. You grabbed your new cloak (shopping for winter attire had been incredibly fun; you’d never owned such fabulous yet practical boots and cloak in your life) and pocketed your watch and the key to your room, then stepped into the hallway. Which was also freezing, a theme you were beginning to recognize as prevalent in every corner of the palace. Unlike the previous night, the place was bustling with activity; soldiers were rushing to and fro with weapons, piles of paper or crates of food and potions in their hands, servants in their neat uniforms quietly and efficiently dropped in and out of rooms, and you glimpsed fellow recruits with the bronze badges slung at their waist wandering around and doing an excellent job of getting in the way of everyone else who knew where they were going. The scene reminded you of the Akademiya’s mornings; full of flurrying activity and people who looked either incredibly stressed or incredibly busy or both, all clamouring to get somewhere or do something and invariably snapping at whoever got in their way. And much like your first day at the Akademiya, you had no idea where to go or what to do with yourself.

Oh, pull yourself together, you told yourself firmly. You’re not a wide-eyed first-year anymore. No one’s going to scold you.

You adjusted your glasses and tightened your gloves, stepping out of the doorway to your room. Only to be met by an increasingly familiar face and a head of ginger hair.

“Ah, Trixy!” Childe, with his unshakeable grin. He walked over, people dispersing left and right to make way for him, and clapped you on the shoulder. Since when are we that friendly?  “You’re ready just on time.”

“Morning, Eleventh,” you replied with some reluctance, readjusting your glasses yet again after his overly physical greeting caused them to slip down your nose. The gesture struck him as ridiculously endearing, and he decided to elicit it more often. 

“You don’t look happy to see me at all. And you still won’t call me by name.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you’re more than happy to make your presence known despite my lack of enthusiasm. And calling you by your first name would be a breach of protocol as per the extensive list of regulations I received upon acceptance. ” Archons, this guy was so easy to bicker with even though you knew better than to poke fun at a Harbinger, youngest or not. “Enlighten me, what is it I’m ‘ready just on time’ for?”

His grin widened.

“Your first appointment with The Doctor, of course.”

After following him through a series of winding corridors and up several flights of stairs that left you more winded than you cared to admit, he stopped in front of a door with a dubious series of stains at the bottom. You’d gathered from your pointed questions on the way here that the Doctor would be primarily responsible for supervising and directing your ongoing research. Which meant that your direct superior was now an infamous Akademiya exile. Wonderful. The door had no handle, but carved into the black wood a long block of text gleamed red. You blinked. No, it shone with a pale blue light. You blinked again. Gold. Another blink. The green of Avidya forest. Blink. Deep purple. You frowned. Yet another troublesome show of magic. You glanced up to find that Childe had been watching you examine the door. What a strange, strange man. Always openly observing without an ounce of shame. Could you blame him, though? Such an interesting face, and the emotions you let slip past your mask of collectedness were just delicious. 

“Are you quite finished staring?”

“No, you’d rather stare a little longer.” He winked. “If it’s all the same to you.”

Not even your most unimpressed stare wiped the ever-present grin off his face. You briefly entertained the fantasy of telling him he had something green stuck between his front teeth, but dismissed the idea when further reflection led you to conclude that the absolute madman probably wouldn’t even care. It was slightly worrying to think that you’d developed such an acute sense of his character within a single day of meeting him, but his mannerisms were so distinct, almost as though he wanted to be analysed. It took you another moment of narrow-eyed contemplation to realise you’d been silently engaging in a rather competitive staring contest for at least two minutes; you with your brows furrowed and your nose subconsciously scrunched to keep your glasses in place so you could meet his gaze (Archons, he was tall) and him just smiling, teeth bared and eyes just barely tinged with a hint of amusement. Perhaps even friendliness. You shook your head to dispel the thought and firmly reminded yourself that no matter how silly this man may seem, he remained a Harbinger at the end of the day. Every one of his actions could very well be calculated to achieve some end goal, and even if you were technically co-workers for the time being you shouldn’t so readily let your guard down. For once, he really did have no ulterior motives, though. He just wanted to look at you. 

“So, Eleventh,” you prompted, raising your eyebrows. “Do you know how to open this door, or are we going to linger here glowering at each other like that’s what we get paid to do?”

“Getting paid to stare at you would be a treat,” he fired back, his grin widening as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. His suit is properly ironed today, you noted, brushing off the blatant flirting. Though how he isn’t freezing to death is beyond me. Perhaps the metabolism of Snezhnayan citizens is worth studying. More exothermic cellular processes..? No, impossible-

The door slammed open, and you leaped out of the way just in time not to have your nose completely bashed in by it. You scowled at the inscribed text and it gleamed a merry shade of gold in response. Childe, of course, remained completely unfazed even when the metal clanged against the stone wall and produced a reverberating sound that rattled the stained glass of the windowpanes. Properties of metals: sonorous, your brain helpfully supplied as the echoing ring faded in your ears and you registered the billowing smoke spiralling out from the doorway, concealing the interior of the room.

What a damned cliché.

“I hope you fools do not plan on lingering in your doorway a moment longer.” A man’s voice, disgruntled with the syllables curiously drawn out and faintly accented, sounded from inside. Childe shot you a grin and slapped your shoulder encouragingly. At least you assume that was the intention behind the gesture, but considering Lisa’s claims that you were no more socially adept than the fungi you were so fond of studying, you suppose your analysis might’ve been a tad irrelevant.

“See, you even used the same stuck-up version of the phrase ‘hanging around.’ I’ll bet a hefty stack of mora no one else actually uses the word ‘lingering,’” He snorted. “You and the Doctor will get along like a house on fire.”

“That’s a somewhat concerning sentiment when you take into account the fact that we’re both scientists.”

Childe just let loose another one of his maddening laughs and pivoted on his heel, whistling a tune as he disappeared down the stairs with his ridiculous red cape trailing behind him. Turning back to the open door and clouds of smoke, you tightened your gloves and adjusted your glasses to steel yourself before stepping inside. The door clanged shut behind even as you moved to close it yourself, and you felt a brief stab of irritation. Why would anyone design a mechanism in such a way that it elicits more noise than necessary?

Despite your annoyance, you had to marvel at the room. It was in fact a laboratory, and one of the grandest you’d ever set foot in at that; semi-circular, with curved windows that emphasised how high up the place was. No stained glass, though, nor the twisting wrought iron vines that you’d seen in many of the palace’s windows.

And oh, the number of reagents and solutions and contraptions littered across the various shelves alone was enough to excite you. You spotted what you recognized as the core of a ruin guard on one shelf, the golden frame of a primal construct, the skeleton of a spinokrak only slightly smaller than the full-size one you’d left back home, hilichurl masks… a fascinating array of oddities.

What seemed to be marble countertops (you certainly hoped they weren’t, as they’d react most vigorously with any acid spills) created a path through the lab, the surfaces crowded with flasks and beakers, most of which needed cleaning. You frowned. A cluttered lab simply wouldn’t do, and you quickly gathered up any empty glassware and piled it into one of the various sinks. This place is bloody massive. You felt giddy with anticipation at the thought of continuing your research here, in a lab with such advanced facilities.

“Do let me know once you’ve finished gawking.” Though your barely-veiled excitement was quite charming, the Doctor had no patience for such displays.

The voice came from close behind you, and you were immeasurably thankful that you didn’t start at the sound. You turned around, and there stood the Doctor.

You took the liberty of observing him for a quick moment before replying. A pristine white lab coat, a ruffled navy blue shirt and a mask rather different from Signora’s. Where hers was decorative and only partially hid one half of her face, the Doctor’s covered his eyes entirely, leaving only his jaw exposed beneath the black, beak-like point of the mask. Fashioned almost like a raven or a crow, you thought, admiring the gold detailing. The Harbingers really were a fashionable bunch, for all their faults. Dottore watched as you profiled him, taking in the tiny furrow between your brows and your calculated, shifting gaze. He was a good judge of character, and your shrewd demeanour wasn’t lost on him. Perhaps recruited you had been an effective decision after all.

“Doctor,” you stated, inclining your head slightly. “An honour to make your acquaintance.” Ah, and you were polite, too. 

He stood there with his arms crossed, impassive as a statue. The mask further added to his emotionless front, and you mentally stored away yet another Harbinger’s psychological parlour trick. You didn’t make any attempt to break the silence; clearly he was assessing you and formulating an opinion just as you’d done. Where Signora’s quiet had been stifling, like the huffing of some beast down your neck, this was much more… clinical. The purpose, it seemed to you, was to scrutinise rather than intimidate. Though intimidation is a bit of a side effect when you can’t see someone’s eyes yet still feel the intensity of their gaze. You decided that this was probably how bacteria felt under the microscope, if they had the capacity to feel anything in the first place. 

The Doctor took a step closer, and you resented him for being so tall that you had to crane your neck to maintain eye contact. Or whatever semblance of eye contact you could hold with a mask, anyway. Oh, well. Better neck pain than backing down at his approach. He noted that, too; you obviously had a stubborn streak that would be of great benefit during your studies. 

“Hm.” He leaned in a little closer, and you wondered how he could see through the mask. You couldn’t discern any gaps in the leather. “You must be the ‘little one’ Number Eight spoke of.”

You resisted the urge to bristle, but Dottore nonetheless saw how your feathers ruffled. A scholar’s pride, no doubt; a trait he shared with you. Maybe he’d address you in that way from now on just to see you prickle with animosity. The derogatory remark clearly irked you. Of course she would’ve referred to you in such a condescending manner, and of course the Doctor would do the same. It sounded even worse in his voice, somehow; the disinterested way he stretched out the words paired with his drawling accent was a new blend of arrogance that made the prospect of scowling in his face quite appealing. You refrained, and smoothed out the wrinkles in your composure (Never lose your cool, no matter the situation, Kaeya’s voice reminded you from the recesses of your brain. Your self-control is your most important asset).

“Lady Eight and Sir Eleven have indeed bestowed me with the honour of such code-names, yes,” you replied, wrestling your sarcasm back into its cage before it overpowered the conversation and put you in a difficult position. Dottore bit back a smile. You lived up to the ‘sardonic’ title Signora had given you, too. 

His face remained emotionless despite it, and you wished you could see the rest of his face. You already found it difficult enough to read people, and the mask added yet another layer of complexity to steering the conversation that you didn’t appreciate in the slightest. Although that was most likely the desired goal to wearing the mask in the first place.

“Your attitude is consistent with her description, too,” he added. You could’ve taken his response as a joke, compliment or insult, but thanks to his utter blankness you could very easily misread his intention and land yourself in an embarrassing situation. Curse these Harbingers and their wily behaviour.

“Then I suppose Lady Eight must be commended for her impressive relaying of events.”

“Or perhaps you should be commended for your distinctive mannerisms.”

Your eyebrows quirked up despite your resolve to remain blank-faced. The Doctor was clearly even more sly than you’d thought, and much to your chagrin you’d lost your footing somewhat. So you reverted back to complete civility.

“Whichever course of action suits you best, doctor.”

He finally stepped away, practically radiating smugness at having won the little game of toeing the line of politeness. Arrogant bastard. 

“I see. The course of action that suits me best at the moment is to discuss the matter of your studies here.”

What a relief. The letter you’d received had been infuriatingly vague about the specifics.

“I’d be more than happy to establish expectations and such.”

The Doctor traced the edge of his mask thoughtfully, and you were glad for the gesture as it served as an indicator, however ambiguous, of his thoughts.

“As I'm sure you’re aware, I’ll be acting as your supervisor for the duration of your stay, regardless of how long or short it may be.” Indignation flared in your chest at the implication of you being unable to meet the requirements. “This means any work or assignments will be delegated by myself, and any questions you have will be directed to me.”

“Your assumption is correct, doctor, as I'm well aware of your position in regards to me.”

“Yes, yes, how wonderful to hear that you have the barest inkling of what will be happening.” You clenched your jaw, biting back an equally sarcastic reply. The Doctor didn’t so much grin as bare his teeth at your visible frustration. Not teeth. Fangs. You frowned, narrowing your eyes to catch a final glimpse of the pointed ends before the smile faded from his face, and you were eerily reminded of Xiao. Oh, Archons. Please don’t let him be some sort of adeptus. He noticed your bewildered look and the way your eyes focused on his teeth as he continued. You had a sharp eye.

“However, in return for supervising and answering your queries, I expect you to assist me in maintaining the laboratory and carrying out a few of my experiments. If, and only if, I find you to be as competent as your reputation suggests.”

You made a face. So this is what the letter had meant by ‘further details will be decided upon discussion with your superior.’

“And if my competence doesn’t meet your standards, and I'm not awarded the privilege of assisting you?” you countered drily. Oh, well. If he’s going to make the first shot and try to humiliate me I might as well give myself a free reign to be as passive aggressive as I want. “What will you expect in return then?”

Another smile, wider and nastier than the last, with a sly edge that made you feel as though you’d stumbled into a trap.You absolutely had, and Dottore seized the chance to prick at your cool persona. For the sake of scientific curiosity, of course; you made for a fascinating little lab rat and he wanted to document every one of your reactions.“What do you have to offer?” He replied, his voice dropping a few octaves lower. You willed yourself not to go red.

“I can make do without a kidney. Perhaps even a lung, if the esteemed doctor finds himself dissatisfied,” you deadpanned. It was a relief that your tone and expression remained neutral, and a pleasure for the Doctor to witness your flippant attitude.

He let out an amused huff of air, his self-assured grin not wavering in the slightest. You concluded that his blank expression, however unsettling, was infinitely preferable to his conceited smile.

“Never let it be said that I am not a most generous superior. You may keep your organs,” he said in a mock-reassuring tone. “But you will be required to make yourself useful whenever I deem it necessary.”

Ah, what a lovely abuse of power. His amusement seemed to grow at your disdainful silence, and he tilted his head to the side. Like a curious cat. Like a panther. 

“I agree to these terms,” you conceded after another moment’s thought. “Will there be a contract to sign?”

“Bothersome things. No, no, there’s no need for such… formalities.” you frowned, wanting very badly to argue that there was a need for such formalities.

 “After all,” he continued in that amused drawl, “verbal agreements are contractually binding in Snezhnaya.” 

Your frown deepened as you mulled over this new information.

“And how are the contracts upheld without visual proof of their occurrence?”

“A Harbinger’s claims are never questioned,” he replied, smug and amused and absolutely aware of the unfairness of his explanation.

“Ah. Yet another system that serves only those of the higher rank.” You didn’t even attempt to hide the derision from your voice. Zhongli would be appalled at this. “Charming,” you added under your breath.

That arrogant smile reappeared on his face at your obvious contempt.

“Yes, I quite agree.”

Oh, so now he decides to be agreeable. You glowered at him over the top of your glasses, decorum be damned, for a socially unacceptable amount of time. The Doctor stared back, or at least you assumed he did, with the barest hint of a smirk pulling the corner of his lips. Clearly he found some sort of sadistic amusement in pushing your buttons, and you disliked him all the more for it. As with Signora, you refused to be the first to speak, and the silence stretched out like toffee on a warm day with you fantasising about dissecting whatever was up in his skull that he called a brain. Not for the first time, you wondered what he was thinking and you cursed him for wearing a mask that so thoroughly hid his expressions.

“You have an admirable gift for silence,” he remarked, tracing the shape of his mask with his thumb again. At the very least, you knew for a fact he was looking at you now because you could feel his stare, but his idle statement made you raise your eyebrows and ponder what he meant. Did he mean to disconcert you with a compliment? Was it an insult in disguise? Was he mocking you?

He huffed out an amused chuckle.

“It’s quite entertaining how you insist on so thoroughly scrutinising my every last word. If you think any harder about such trivial matters it’ll be akin to throwing a wrench into the gears of your brain.”

“Too much thinking never hurt anyone,” you quipped back. “Do you refrain from thinking to such a capacity that you fear an excess of it will cause harm?”

“That’s quite enough of your attitude,” he drawled, toying with the cuff of his immaculate lab coat. You had to agree with him there; it was all well and good to balance on the tightrope of politeness and sarcasm but you’d taken a decisive plunge into the latter with your response. You once again resolved to be more vigilant and hold your tongue while in the Harbinger’s vicinity, damn Signora’s little barb to the lowest hell. This wasn’t the Akademiya, after all; if your behaviour was deemed intolerable you’d get more than a remedial essay and a lecture. Your eyes lingered on a bloody scalpel carelessly tossed on one of the work benches. You suppressed a grimace. More than a remedial essay indeed. It amused Dottore no end to think that your barbs were so quickly shut down. Your respect for authority was quite great; or perhaps you were simply on edge because he was a Harbinger. Either way, he found himself thoroughly entertained. A fascinating little lab rat indeed.

“Anything more to add, doctor?” you asked, tightening your gloves. The cold here is worse than even Dragonspine.

“You may utilise the lab freely today, only after submitting your current thesis and other research.” You refrained from innocently pointing out that the Fatui had probably evaluated everything you’d ever written before you even stepped through the palace’s gates. “Further courses of action will be determined after your work is assessed.”

Oh, how you wanted to say that technically speaking he was unfit to assess any of your work without even a degree from the Akademiya. However, contrary to popular opinion you do value a life bereft of death threats, so you merely nodded with a polite “Yes, Doctor.”

“Dismissed.”

Joy to the world, you thought wryly. “When would be a suitable time for me to visit the lab?” Is what you said.

“After tea,” he replied cryptically, his attention already diverted to one of the numerous paper files scattered across the workbench. It would be interesting to see how you’d respond to his vague time frame.

Well, screw you too. I'm not going to beg you to elaborate.

You quickly made your way to the door before you said something you’d regret. The door, however, had practically vanished into the wall. Well, perhaps that wasn’t not the most accurate statement; you could make out the seam where the door and wall met, but there was no handle. Just the lines and lines of glowing text. You could practically hear the Doctor smirking from behind you. This may well be a test to see if you had a vision or not, you realised, and it made you all the more reluctant to reveal the answer. Instead, you opted to glare at the door and very emphatically inform it that if it didn’t open you’d dissolve its hinges in a vat of acid. It worked wonderfully, the door swinging open with barely a screech, and you all but waltzed through it. These Harbingers aren’t the only self-important pricks here, after all. Dottore hadn’t expected that. For once, the unaccounted-for variable was a source of intrigue rather than irritation. 

All that remained now was to find out when the hell ‘tea time’ was. And also riffle through your pockets for the little notebook where you’d sketched a hasty map of the palace’s twisting corridors. Locating the map amidst the pages, you made your way down the staircase and through the hallways. The palace still teemed with people rushing back and forth, and you had to perform some fancy footwork that Nilou would have approved of so you didn’t bump into anyone. The floating lanterns you’d so disapprovingly stared at had dimmed, and the faint sunlight dappled the floors and walls with spots of colour from the stained glass; reds and blues and purples and yellows splattered across the stone. The image of the colour-changing door to the laboratory came to mind.

You arrived at your room in pleasant spirits. The Harbingers may be an utter pain in the neck, and your employment may have been ethically questionable and at least partially not by choice, but the routine remained similar to the one you’d so carefully crafted for yourself at the Akademiya. Even the act of rummaging through the inner pocket (of your cloak this time, rather than the breezy uniform over-shirt)  for your room key sparked comfortable familiarity, and you were just eagerly contemplating having breakfast when you stepped into the room to find someone bent over the fire.

Startled, you nearly dropped the key altogether.

Who exactly is that?

“I- hello?” You ventured, hesitant. The girl whirled around, looking just as startled, before curtsying when she spotted you. …What? Why would she curtsy?

“Hello, miss. I'm very sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a scare.” What a sweet voice. She reminded you of a young girl who’d followed you around the Akademiya, with her freckles and round cheeks. Now that she’d turned around, you could see the apron and neat cap she wore, and you surmised she was a servant, though what a servant was doing in a recruit’s room you had no idea.

“It’s… quite alright,” you replied awkwardly, tugging off your boots. You hadn’t anticipated running into a stranger in your room, and now your little fantasy of living a routine was quite effectively shattered. It left you unsure of how to proceed. “Not to be rude, but might you inquire why you’re… in my room?”

She blinked up at you, clearly confused.

“I was tending the fire, miss.”

You glanced at the crackling flames.

“Yes, I can see that. Thank you very much,” you added hastily, not wanting to come off as impolite to this sweet young girl. “You’re not obligated to, though. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I'm just a recruit”- you gestured to the bronze talisman dangling from your hip –“so you don’t think it’s necessary for you to worry about this room.”

The girl frowned at the talisman.

“But Lady Eight said this room was to be carefully managed.”

That rendered you just as puzzled as her. “Did she really?”

The girl nodded fervently. “Yes, miss.”

You considered telling her that there was no need to do so, but you couldn’t very well tell her to disregard the orders of a Harbinger. A very perplexing order indeed. Why would Signora insist on this room being tended to? As far as you knew, recruits didn’t receive such services. You decided to ask anyway. 

“I'm assuming you’re not usually asked to take care of recruits’ quarters?”

The girl hesitated.

“You- You’re right, miss.”

“How strange,” you commented, walking over to the window to crack it open. The paranoia of lighting a fire in an enclosed space never left you after learning about incomplete combustion and carbon monoxide poisoning. “You don’t need to trouble yourself,” you told her. “But so you don’t get a scolding from your Madam, you can come and have some tea here under the pretence of cleaning and such.” you winked. “A little secret between us, hm?” You would’ve preferred for her not to come in the first place, but you didn’t want to land her in trouble. You could endure a little agonising small talk, you reasoned to yourself. You didn’t think the girl could look more mystified, but your suggestion left her with wide eyes and furrowed brows, her fingers clenching at the frills in her apron.

“What’s your name?” You asked instead, finally deciding to unpack properly. Unzipping your bag, you felt a rush of relief to see that none of your glassware had cracked despite being tossed around. You mentally thanked Xiao for the protection charm he’d given you as you carefully took out your tea set. Alhaitham and Dehya had relentlessly poked fun at you for packing it, but the cool, smooth surface and the curve of the porcelain offered yet another source of stability that you were thankful for.

“Anya,” she replied, her voice quiet and hesitant. She started towards you as you placed the teapot on the fire, hands outstretched as if to take it from you and do it herself. You firmly guided her to the empty armchair instead, attempting to offer her a reassuring smile. Making people feel relaxed in your presence was far from your forte, but an odd desire to protect this girl was building in your chest.

“That’s a lovely name, Anya,” you said, attempting valiantly to soften your voice as you sifted through your extensive collection of tea leaves. I’ll have to make them into teabags soon. Anya didn’t respond, picking at her clothes and avoiding eye contact. You were probably making her anxious by not letting her do her job, but it felt wrong to have someone tend to you, especially someone younger than you were. Of course, like the pretentious scholar you were, the only thing you could think to add was the interpretation of her name. “It means ‘favoured by the gods.’”

She looked up at you then. “Yes, miss. I know.”

“That’s expected,” you conceded with an awkward smile. “But I'm not a very good conversationalist, and that’s all I could think to say.”

Anya giggled under her breath, and a wave of accomplishment washed over you.

“Really, Anya,” you insisted. “I'm not comfortable with the idea of you cleaning up after me in my own room if none of the other recruits receive the same services. So if you’re ever assigned here again then don’t hesitate to make yourself at home, yes?”

“Madam wouldn’t like that.”

“I assure you what your Madam doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.”

She looked a little scandalised by the notion.

“How about we strike a bargain?” you suggested, pouring out the tea. It was a perfect amber colour, and you allowed yourself a moment of self-satisfaction as you handed Anya a cup. “To ease your conscience, you can help by dusting my bookshelf whenever you’re asked to tend to my room.” You nodded towards the currently empty bookcase, gratified by the knowledge that it’d be filled with your beloved books soon enough. “Surely your Madam won’t protest if I'm the one who won’t allow you to do anything more?” You threw her another wink as you lifted your teacup to your lips and settled into the other armchair.

“I suppose…”

“In fact, I could speak to Lady Eight and resolve this misunderstanding from the root,” you mused, watching snow pick up outside the window.

“No!”

Mildly alarmed at her vehement protest, you appraised her curiously. Anya immediately averted her gaze back to her hands in her lap, twisting the fabric of her apron. Hm. Perhaps there’s a job she’d like to avoid by accepting this one.

“Alright,” you replied, forcing yourself to sound more amicable. You felt like a fox trying its best not to scare off a rabbit, which was ironic because you were more often than not a fox snarling at wolves to keep away. “But keep our little agreement in mind, won’t you?”

She nodded, her frown easing and the downturn of her lips fading slightly. “Yes, miss.”

“Lovely.” you tipped back your head to drain your teacup, savouring the last dregs of flavour before returning to the task of emptying your bags. Your books didn’t fit quite as neatly as you’d liked in the bookcase, so you left a stack of your favourites on the nightstand. You let your mind wander as you went through the motions of tidying and sorting. Anya started to help at some point, silently and out of the way, properly hanging up your new coats and folding your trousers neatly enough to fit even Noelle’s standards, and you let her so that you didn’t further embarrass her. And also out of consideration for your own draining social battery. Meandering through the task in silence with the snow flurrying outside and the fire crackling merrily, you felt yourself relax. Until you remembered that you still had no idea when the Doctor expected you, and a glance at your pocket watch revealed that it was past what you would consider lunchtime.

“Anya, do you know when the Doctor takes his tea?”

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚**  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fatui #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin crack #fatui harbingers #genshin harbingers #genshin fluff #harbingers x reader #genshin dottore #childe x reader #dottore x reader #la signora x reader #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino x reader #no rest for the wicked nor the foolish

[otpcutie]

Otpcutie’s Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist — My completed @buckybarnesevents prompts, for Hot Bucky Summer 2023.

A/N: I accomplished my goal of completing 13/13 prompts, woo!!

1. Caress (M, 0.5k) | Week 1: Lingerie + Collars

Summary (Stucky): Bucky admires his reflection.

Contains: sub Bucky, kept boy Bucky, Daddy Steve, lingerie, mirrors, sexual exploration, Bucky being turned on by his reflection (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

2. Steve’s Night Off, Chapter 1: Sparks Fly (M, 3.4k) | Week 2: Daddy

Summary (Stucky): Steve meets Bucky in a bar.

Chapter summary: Steve and Bucky hit it off.

Contains: unhappily married Steve, Steve cheats on Peggy with Bucky, older Steve/younger Bucky, Bucky in a skirt, lingerie, flirting, teasing, Daddy kink, dorks falling in love (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

3. Steve’s Night Off, Chapter 2: Falling (E, 4.1k) | Week 3: Kneeling

Summary (Stucky): Steve meets Bucky in a bar.

Chapter summary: Steve takes Bucky to his hotel, where their sexual tension reaches a boiling point.

Contains: unhappily married Steve, Steve cheats on Peggy with Bucky, older Steve/younger Bucky, Bucky in a skirt/lingerie, flirting, teasing, Daddy kink, dorks falling in love, fluff, horny boys, smut (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

4. The Bait (T, 0.7k) | Week 4: Free week, “C” (crime solving)

Summary (Stony): Tony goes undercover as an escort for a case.

Contains: Detective AU, grumpy Steve, jealousy, besties/work partners Steve & Bucky, pining Steve, Bucky is fed up with it, escort Peter, implied Bucky/Peter, pining, angst, love confession (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

5. The Upside (E, 2.8k) | Week 5: Electricity + Fireworks

Summary (Winteriron): Tony and Bucky give each other permission to get off while body swapped.

Contains: body swap AU, found family, transguy Tony, flirting, teasing, mutual pining, boys in love, fluff, jerking off, smut (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

6. All In, Chapter 1: Uncertainty (E, 0.7k) | Week 5: “How do you want me?”

Summary (Stucky): Bucky makes his Daddy Steve (the President) jealous. Steve is clueless as to why.

Contains: President Steve, journalist Bucky, secret relationship, D/s, Daddy Steve, brat Bucky, age difference, jealousy, Bucky is a little shit (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

7. Sub Bucky and his Domme [moodboard] | Week 7: “Who’s this?” + My lover + My pet

Contains: Sub Bucky, Domme Nat

Links: Tumblr

8. Business (M, 1.5k) | Week 8: “How did you meet?”

Summary (Winterspider): Peter is ‘given’ to Mafia Boss Bucky. Or so he thinks.

Contains: Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Bucky, Russian Bucky, adult Peter, sex worker Peter, dark Peter, Peter is a little shit, age difference, possessiveness (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

9. Stucky AU: Summer Vacation [moodboard] | Week 9: Free week, “S” (Summer vacation)

Contains: Steve/Bucky, beach vacation

Link: Tumblr

10. Stucky AU: Spa Day [moodboard + snippet] | Week 10: “Long day at work?” + Massages + Bath

Contains: spa day, older Steve/younger Bucky, massage therapist Bucky, crushes

Link: Tumblr

11. Winter Soldier aesthetic (Green) [moodboard] | Week 11: Green

Contains: Winter Soldier Bucky

Link: Tumblr

12. Starshine (M, 1k) | Week 12: “Who’s my __?”

Summary (Stucky): Bucky takes care of his kitten after they’ve played.

Contains: Omegaverse, D/s, Alpha/Daddy Bucky, Omega/kitten Steve, beefy sub Steve, kitten play, fluff, aftercare, nonbinary Steve, Steve uses it/its pronouns (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

13. Bucky Barnes AU: Baker!Bucky [moodboard] | Week 13: Free week, “B” (Baker Bucky + Business owner)

Contains: Baker Bucky, coffee shop AU, cafe owner Bucky, barista Bucky

Link: Tumblr

Event photo list below the cut:

#hotbuckysummer2023 #Bucky Barnes #Stucky #winteriron #Winterspider #Stucky fic #winteriron fic #Winterspider fic #bucky barnes moodboard #bucky barnes aesthetic #Bucky Barnes fic #hot Bucky summer #hot Bucky summer 2023 #otpcutie #otpcutie fics #Otpcutie moodboards #event Masterlist

[digital-chance]

writeblr intro

hey i'm chance! i used to be on writeblr under a old username ages ago and i'm excited to be back. i don't know if they do these intros anymore (its been a while lol) but here's mine.

✨ [ about ]

i'm queer and don't usually identify with any gender, though i use they/he pronouns. i also don't identify with any sexuality label most of the time. i like people and i like being whomever the fuck i want.

i'm an adult (born in 03) and to tend to delve into adult-oriented topics and tend to pepper my posts with so much fucking swearing. i also am pretty sure i'm neurodivergent (no diagnose or anything yet though) and tend to delve into hyper-fixations for weeks at a time. if i haven't posted for a while, it's probably because of one of my other hyper-fixations or school.

🌐 [ interests ]

i'm interested in a bunch of genres, but i most often enjoy ::

romance

action

sci-fi

dystopian

heist

cyberpunk.

otherwise i enjoy ::

anime (esp 00s)

movies

history and historical designs

fanfiction (i love you ao3 authors <3)

drawing

y2k / retro futurism / cyberpunk / frutiger aero / weirdcore / 90s-00s tech

graphic design

kpop (esp shinee)

legend of zelda series

spiderman

batman

heist movies

i'm pretty obsessed with researching topics and learning the intricacies of various things, such as cyberpunk's history, movements within art, y2k designing, etc. i would self-describe as a extremely artistic or creative person, often switching between artistic mediums as i feel fit.

my favorite/comfort tropes (yes i pulled up my ao3 for this lol) ::

friends to lovers , enemies to lovers , fake/pretend relationship , college au , coffee shop au , domestic , fluff , angst

[ WIPs ] 📝 

nova futurum [x] | #novafut #originalstory

i'm working on this queer mafia cyberpunk type story i've hesitantly decided to call 'Nova Futurum,' at least for now. i've got the general information down and i'm currently working on fleshing out my main characters. for now it's in the very basic stages, but feel free to ask me about it or give any tips! i'm pretty new to cyberpunk and i'm VERY new to writing, so all advice/tips is appreciated.

you still would've been mine [x] | #yswbm #fanfic

Steven "Steve" Rogers wakes up in the 21st century after crashing into the ice in 1942, leaving behind his life as the mascot of the USA along with his childhood in Brooklyn NYC. The Winter Soldier, a man left behind in the war recovers his memories as the man known as James "Bucky" Buchanen Barnes after meeting Steve in the modern time. Steve and Bucky recall their childhood and their experience in the war as they recover.

probably more in the future

tdlr i'm chance (they/he), a queer adult, i like a lotta shit, and i write cyberpunk, gay characters, & cheesy romcom stuff.

nice to meet everyone! ❤️

#writeblr #queer writers #writing #writersociety #writerscommunity #writeblr intro #writeblr community #writer things #me #writers of tumblr #cyberpunk writing #scifi writer #writing scifi #writing romance #romance writing #queer writing #queer community #nanowrimo #fiction writing #novel writing #creative writing #blog intro #introducing post #introducing myself #introduction #novafut #nova fut #nova futurum

[whynotsableye]

BG3 OC (tagged by @illithidactivities, thanks for the inclusion!)

Name: Nia Liadan Valar (Pronounced Naya Lee-din vah-lar)

Nickname: Nia doesnt really do nicknames but she has grown quite fond of hearing the word "soldier" come out of a certain tiefling.

Pronouns: She/her

Star Sign: I've never put much thought into this, i havent even given her a birthdate lol

Height: she is 5'9" (about 175 cm)

Orientation: Lesbian

Race: Half-Drow, Half-human

Romancing: Karlach

Class: Spore Druid

Fave Fruit: Strawberries. Strawberries were one of the first fruits she tried in her first trip out of the underdark and they've been a favorite ever since, her magically produced good berries taste of strawberry as well

Favorite Season: Despite the fact that her favorite fruit blooms in the spring and is ripe at the end of spring or beginning of summer, her favorite season is the end of fall/Autumn, into the beginning of winter- right around the first real snowfall. The seasons changing reminds her of the ideals she holds as a druid.

Favorite Flower: If pressed she would say her favorite flower is lily of the valley, but at heart she would much rather have a culture of fire lichen or glow lichen

Fave Scent: Cinnamon, fresh bread, the ozone/plasma that builds on the wind before a storm, and fresh ground coffee. (and Karlach who she thinks smells like a campfire and cinnamon bundled together)

Coffee/Tea/Hot-chocolate? Almost always the answer is coffee, with a bit of cream, but she loves Tea- especially if there are natural additives she can find nearby. if she drinks hot chocolate at all it is almost always darker than most would prefer, with a stick of cinnamon.

Average sleep hours? 7-9 depending on if she is taking watch at camp or not. She likes to sleep, but if shes disturbed in the night its hard for her to go back to sleep which can easily make the odd night turn into 4 hours of sleep and 2 hours of laying in bed angry before making a pot of coffee and accepting she will just be moody the whole day

Dogs or Cats? Dogs! She loves dogs, and Scratch is the bestest boy in all the realms. she likes cats too. she herself hasnt kept many pets only the odd animal that would travel with her for a bit while she adventured (usually a wolf in the overworld, or a spider or rothe in the underdark, but these animals usually went on their own way after a time)

Dream Trip: Before the beginning of the game this answer wouldve been "travel the world" but after she started dating Karlach her dream trip is simply to take Karlach to her home grove and introduce her to the people that raised her and show Karlach the wild joys of the underdark.

Amount of Blankets: one- she doesnt get cold very easily (especially when sleeping with someone else) but when shes stressed she does want a heavier blanket or extra cuddling to calm down.

Fun Facts:

If you asked her about her parents, Nia would tell you she THINKS she has about 72 moms- this is because all the women in her grove that are mothers are mothers to all the children in that grove.

bonus fact from the first one, she didnt know the word Father until she was about 7 because she didnt have one and the men in the grove only parent their children and are instead more like uncles to the other children.

And lastly she has a real soft-spot for kids, and gladly wouldve taken every orphan tiefling from the druid grove in act 1 to her own grove.

I dont know everyone who has BG3 but if you follow me-especially if we are mutuals- and you have BG3 consider yourself tagged!

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 oc

[ace-of-gay]

The run and go

This is a song fic, the song is the run and go by twenty one pilots, from the vessel album

Bucky x reader

Angst and comfort

1857 words

Warnings: ptsd, mentions of guns, war, cling on the outside of the tower, feelings of shame worthlessness anxiety and depression, mention of war, thunderstorm

No pronouns, skin color, weight etc mentioned.

Edited to the best of my ability

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Something about the word coming out at random stuck him weird, leaving a gash in the place of a forgotten scar to the mind, peter was going to homecoming and just so happened to be talking to Mr. stark about it needing the day of patrol off. Its not peters fault, in no way is it anyone’s fault. surely it should have left him fine, i mean he went through a lot in wakanda to have his mind back to himself.

That night going to bed his mattress felt ever so slightly harder and his body just couldn't warm up correctly, yes his mind was his by the moment to moment view but looking backwards the ptsd he faced made it impossible to not be affected.

Footsteps down the hall woke him up around five in the morning but the windows showed three at the latest, too early for people to leave their rooms.

In seconds he’s back in hydra, spikes of adrenaline, anxiety, panic all flaring, his heartrate rocketing, the whirring of the plates in his arm, the glint of artificial light reflecting off of the metal, his mind didn't pick up on the fact he has a completely new arm almost as if everything was black and white.

In that moment it took him straight back, He had just killed another victim, winter had taken another persons fragile life, the last one he hoped from the back of his corrupted consciousness, they were coming to do the same exact thing to him, to turn his electric anxiety into electric shock to rewrite his memory, a new man a new tool same words, homecoming.

Taking everything in his barren room and barricading his door, disregarding the sound of heavy furniture being practically thrown from one side of his room to the other, it didn't matter because in this state he couldn't take all of them, one after another they would have stepped over bodies to take him down, put his mind back into submission.

His mind in a mix of locations it didn't matter that he was in the stark tower anything and everything in this moment was hydra and he couldn't take the risk of them getting to him.

That little version inside his head saying he was okay was drowned out by the thrumming and pounding of his heart in his ears, the only thing he could think was that its a dangerous climb but the balcony just above the one connected to his room was temporary safety.

The team was alerted that he was climbing the side of the building, this is the type of scenario where they should have Steve but he was on a mission out of the country.

What winter ridden Bucky hadn't realized in his haze was that the floor above his was the labs, the balcony was connected to the common room on that floor where the occasional outdoor experiment would happen, so when he haphazardly climbed over the banister and stumbled through the doorway just for the room to be covered in 'experimental' equipment it surely didn't help bring him from his moment.

Looking around symbols stood out, they weren't hydra, the lab coats weren't stained or ripped, and the three people running in weren't from Nazi Germany, everything was in English, the people were in modern clothes, nothing fancy or professional.

He couldn't think of the names of any of the three guards? Or were they soldiers, who are these people were they doctors? "Bucky you need to focus on something" was spoken out, from who he’s not quite sure but all it did was cause winter-Bucky to tense up, chest puffing forward, shoulders stiff and face dead of emotion.

"Everyone out" a new voice echoes from around the corner, rushing footsteps running in, "out now, please" the person directs with the others following after a moment of persuading glances, it was just him and them.

Him and you.

You’ve seen his somewhat like this once before, the only thing that helped was a familiar face and a few words he'd recognize.

"Soldat stand down" something in your voice spoke home, your eyes shared a recognizable flick of kindness.

Walking towards winter-Bucky you keep your direction obvious, your hands out of your pockets and everything purposefully untucked, you didn't share a threat whatsoever, his mind still on guard he follows you with a steady gaze, you go over to the fridge and pull out a couple waters, proof in the sealed lid that it hasn't been tampered with.

"Follow" you walk out of the room to a hallway that lead to a stairwell, instead of going down back to the floor of rooms you go up to the lounge floor with plenty of spaces to calm down and relax

"Please have a seat soldier, take a drink of water if you desire" you sit yourself across from him on the couch, he seats himself stiffly in the chair, opening the water and rushing to chug it before it can be taken "soldier, breathe, its not going anywhere, there’s plenty more if you’d like at any point"

Something in your words melted winters stiff robotic mannerisms, "you’re safe, you know that?" You question but his face stays hardened.

"Your name is James Buchanan barnes, your best friend is Steve rogers. Bucky, I’m y/n we are dating, you’re safe here, nothing is going to happen, you’re not at hydra anymore"

His brows relax, still staring at you waiting for you to continue.

"Its 2022, we are all safe, you’ve been out for several years, you are not the winter soldier, you are Bucky, my Bucky"

You can see his eyes shift to his hands as if he’s thinking deeply, trying his best to take in everything you say, trying to save all the warmth of your voice in his mind, the way it resonates from your chest tells him that he’s home, he just needs a moment, some time to collect himself, to let himself think clearly.

The screaming anxiety, rush to run to save himself inside his head silences when you stand, this is a big risk you’re taking but you have a feeling it'll help,  something you remember Steve telling you about when he had helped Bucky during one of these episodes.

His mind isn’t going to visually remember you but touch is something else.

You hold both of your palms upwards for him, but winter-Bucky, someone who was used and abused as a killing machine right now in the moment flinched back like a scared puppy. This definitely helped you determine when the flashbacks had taken his mind.

He reluctantly placed his right hand in yours, the fear and pain his left arm brought him very obvious. The shame of what he’d done, all washing away when your touch cascade from his hand to his arm and back down to his fingertips, taking his left hand in your own and doing the exact same thing but this time tracing the groves in his arm.

Lacing your fingers into his, he closes his fist around yours, watching as the plates of the vibranium shift and fall into place, the fact he can feel everything, the sensations that tell his brain you’re warm, warm is safe and safe is home.

You lead him to standing, his mind in this moment a broken soldier, home from the war, his eyes hold a righteous version of despair, he hated it, despised every second of the harm he had to do, no wonder Steve hated bullies. The war is his mind, four different Bucky's.

James Buchanan Barnes 'jerk, punk' Bucky, sergeant Barnes, winter soldier, and your Bucky, each one leading to how he responds to your actions.

The times melt away, he’s right here with you, your Bucky is closest.

Opening your arms you falls to your arms, jagged broken sobs, confusion, regret, fear, shame and so much more, but he’s here, sobbing silently, hardly giving himself a moment to breathe, your warmth even just in your eyes makes now fall back completely into place.

He’s still utterly fragile, his mind still at risk of faltering in consciousness.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

The rest of that day he spent wrapped up in your arms, there wasn’t much he could do without his brain trying to destroy all efforts he’s made since hydra. "Hey love? Do you want me to sleep in here with you or go back to my room?"

He thinks for a moment weighing everything, all he wants to say is 'tonight i need you to stay' but he doesn't want to cause anymore problems than he already feels he has, "I’m okay, ill be fine once I’m asleep."

"Alright you just let me know if you need me and ill be there, i promise" nodding,  he wasn’t really going to, of course not, he’s a grown man, he can do this himself, he doesn't need to burden others with his fragile life.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

When everyone had gone to sleep it surprisingly didn't take too long for him to follow suit, a light dreamless slumber, short lasted when outside comes a crash of thunder, that shouldn't scare him, it never has but because he was much higher in elevation than where he would have been during his years of normalcy and his followed ones at hydra, thunder this loud shook his bones, the same way the recoil of a gun happened to.

He shoots up in bed, he can’t let it happen again, "c'mon James get it together, your fine, its just thunder, you’re a grown man time to act like one" he mumbles out to himself, getting up to close his window, going over to his mini fridge and getting a water he walks back and forth in the room reminding himself of everything you and Steve have told him.

He had no idea you could hear him next door, you get up leaving your room, knocking on his door he quickly opens it and lets you inside.

"Did the thunder wake you?" He pulls you into his chest, instantly taking a caring role, you shake your head, "i could hear you berating yourself, its okay to feel what you’re feeling, its okay to fall apart and let others put you back together" he places a deeply loving kiss to your lips, interrupting you.

" i Don't want to have to call you in the nighttime, you need your sleep

Don't wanna give you all my pieces

Don't wanna hand you all my trouble

Don't wanna give you all my demons, you have your own traumas, your own struggles i cant just drown you in my own, i should be used to them they shouldn't be able to drag me down" he chokes on each word he states, he feels like he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve kindness, his eyes wilt away from your own

Taking his face between your hands you make him look at you "I don’t want to watch you struggle

From several rooms away tonight I'll be here to stay, I’m here whenever. Because I love you "

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Okay so i changed my method of writing it, i didn't wanna make people cry

#bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x gn!reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x male reader #bucky x reader headcanon #bucky x you #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst comfort #bucky reader insert #october writings by ace #gonna break your heart cause im me and than also fix it cause i like comfort fics

[vandalovs]

*     ◟    :    〔   harry styles  ,      cis man    +   he / him    〕      MAXIM    SOKOLOV ,      some say you’re a  THIRTY YEAR OLD  lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  CHARISMATIC  and  DECEITFUL,  one can’t help but think of  WAKE UP  by   BLACK VEIL BRIDES  when you walk by.    are you still a    ACTIVE ASSASSIN   /     PUBLIC RELATIONS COORDINATOR  at    RED EYE   /   ANUNNAKI PHARMACEUTICALS,     even with your reputation as the THE PRODIGAL SON?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and    the desire to be the best outweighs everything else, will the blood on your hands ever wash away, the lies keep racking up & you can no longer turn a blind eye,    although we can’t help but think of THE WINTER SOLDIER ( MARVEL COMICS ), EVELYN SALT ( SALT ), CASSIAN ( JOHN WICK )    whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

◜ * 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 .

FULL NAME : maxim mikhailovich sokolov .

NICKNAMES(S) : max, maximka ( only for close family / friends ), glushitel, assassin-1008 .

ALIASES : redacted .

GENDER / PRONOUNS : cis man / he + him .

AGE : thirty .

BIRTHPLACE : moscow, russia .

RESIDENCE : manhattan, new york .

SEXUAL ORENTATION : bisexual .

ROMANTIC ORENTATION : demiromantic .

OCCUPATION : public relations coordinator for anunnaki pharmaceuticals, red eye assassin .

LANGUAGES : russian, english, german, spanish, ukrainian, & asl.

◜ * 𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 .

FACECLAIM : harry styles .

HEIGHT : 6'0" / 183cm .

EYE COLOR : green .

HAIR COLOR : brown .

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES : few scattered scars, heavily tattooed but nothing a long sleeve shirt can't cover .

◜ * 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 .

ZODIAC : scorpio .

MBTI : istp, the virtuoso .

ENNEAGRAM : type 9w8, the advisor .

◜ * 𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈 .

FATHER : mikhail ivanovich sokolov ( adopted ), unknown biological father .

MOTHER : avdotya vladimirovna sokolova ( adopted ), unknown biological mother .

SIBLING(S) : none, unknown .

CHILDREN : none .

◜ * 𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆 .

he was born in moscow, russia, into a life that would be forever marked by tragedy. at the tender age of seven, his world was shattered in a car accident that left him as the sole survivor. the injuries sustained during the accident erased all memories of his life before, leaving him with a blank slate.

what he couldn't recall was that someone had pulled him from the wreckage, the same person who had ruthlessly taken the lives of his parents before setting their car ablaze. what he did remember was waking up in a hospital, with mikhail sokolov by his side. calling him maximka and claiming him as his son, maxim sokolov. mikhail lovingly cared for the child during his recovery, fostering a bond that would become unbreakable.

max was eventually taken to the sokolov family home, where he would be introduced to the legacy his of parents. both mikhail and advotya sokolov were dedicated members of an organization known as red eye, and they were revered for their commitment to its cause. as the only child of the sokolovs, max was destined to carry on their family legacy and become the best that the red eye had to offer.

the red eye organization was, in reality, a ruthless factory for producing some of the world's deadliest assassins. driven by the desire to honor his parents and make them proud, max willingly embraced his training. he excelled in ways that surprised even himself, and he became known as glushitel, the silencer, for his uncanny ability to eliminate targets with deadly precision and absolute discretion.

though max's memory remained spotty at times, he paid it little mind, chalking it up to the lingering effects of the car accident that had forever altered his life. his unwavering dedication to the red eye organization drove him forward, as he continued to strive for excellence and to fulfill the legacy of his beloved parents, all the while navigating the truth remains lurking from him just under the surface.

#lawlessintro

[hauntingmesostunningly]

marvel headcanons pt. 2

hyperspecific headcanons for (more of) my favorite marvel characters!

!! TW: trauma , bipolar disorder , anxiety , ptsd , neurodivergence , alcohol

Valkyrie :

lesbian

they / she

addicted to monster energy drinks

hates animals and thinks pets are for the weak, but then they were gifted a black kitten named soot and soot has her wrapped around his paw.

spoils her adventure cat, soot, to the extreme

has a massive collection of vintage knives

wears black doc martens everywhere she goes

has had a girlfriend for a weirdly long amount of time and is in a very healthy, stable, and committed relationship and she doesn’t get why this seems to surprise everyone

very short but will kill you if you bring it up

top and is VERY protective over her sub

when she was on earth she tried axe throwing and got a bullseye on the first try and doesn’t get why people think its so hard.

deadlifter

can bench more than captain america, they’re gym bros and always compete to see who can lift more.

occasionally drags her girlfriend to the gym to torture her with labored breathing, sweaty biceps and tight bike shorts.

when she first went to earth and discovered target was when she found the true love of her life

Pavitr Prabhakar :

genderqueer , pansexual , polyamory

they / them

has a big crush on hobie

has adhd

is a huge extrovert but is closeted to most of their friends

wants to open a cafe as their job

has a secret passion for baking

uses humor to cover up their trauma

experiences extreme adhd burnout and will neglect spider duties for days on end when they have burnout days but is really hard on themselves for letting things get out of hand

their extended family is toxic and has a lot of issues with eachother so Pavi turned into a bit of a control freak because of their childhood trauma

is closeted to their whole family except their mom, who loves and supports them and uses their correct pronouns

has divorced parents

bipolar

chai fanatic and constantly is reworking their own unique recipe

is a massive fanboy over iron man

America Chaves :

bisexual

is best friends with Kamala Khan and has a crush on her

because of her childhood trauma from losing her moms so early, she struggles with commitment and getting close to people

chatterbox

tries pizza in every universe and is a firm believer that pineapple does belong on pizza

hops around the multiverse but usually crashes at Kamala’s house or at tonys compound

gets severe panic attacks

allergic to dogs

hardcore swiftie

hyperfixates super easily and likes to spew niche details about whatever she’s currently obsessed with to whoever she’s with

she had doctor strange claim himself as her legal guardian and file her as ‘independent study’ so she doesn’t have to go to high school.

only hangs out with other enhanced teens because she’s scared of regular teenagers

Miles Morales :

trans ftm

he/him

has a speech impediment and a lisp

close friends with peter parker (tom holland version)

often forgets that he shouldn’t bind and swing

he’s not formally out to his parents but they suspect it

has dyslexia and struggles in spanish class

obsessed with jurassic park

sometimes gets panic attacks while swinging in a binder because he can’t breathe

gwen is like a sister to him and she’s seen him cry more times than he wants to admit

he’s technically in an after school tutor group for kids with learning disabilities ever since he was diagnosed but he always skips it to go swinging

secretly works at a corner store to save up money for his top surgery and to help pay for testosterone

he hopes to be accepted into tony stark’s grant that supports trans kids and provides funding for their transitions called “the parker project”

Bucky Barnes :

demiboy + gay

has severe ptsd from his time as the winter soldier but eventually agreed under the advisement of his (many) therapists to get a ptsd service dog and is much happier with Radar at his side

is married to steve rodgers

eventually begrudgingly agreed to have 1 kid with steve (using a surrogate) and they ended up having twin girls, Sophie and Claire. and bucky admittedly loves fatherhood and would do absolutely anything for his girls.

lives in a small town in arizona with his family, away from the smelly city.

every month or so, him and his family flies out to visit the avengers at the compound

battled severe alcoholism for years prior but after the blip steve and the avengers held an intervention and sent him to rehab and he as stayed sober since

has taken up a part time position at a brewery despite being sober

Loki Laufeyson :

genderfluid + aromantic asexual

they / she / he

hates all kids except for steve and bucky’s twin daughters, sophie and claire, which she spoils rotten with presents whenever she’s in town

travels full time

shape shifts their appearance depending on the day and what their gender is feeling like that day

will kill anyone who misgenders them

will brutally critique every cafés cold brew black coffee in every town she visits

thinks anyone who doesn’t drink straight cold brew black coffee is weak

is cautious about monetary expenses but eventually caved and got a cat and now refuses to go anywhere without their cat, goldie

doesn’t let any strangers pet goldie when they’re out and about together, instead choosing to pick his precious baby up and say “if you want to pet a cat go and get your own. she’s mine” and then glare until the onlooker goes away

they love going onto wikipedia and editing thor’s page to include all the tea about his poor brothers sex and dating life and to upload horrendous photos of thor onto the page

occasionally stops by and visits Valkyrie so they can go knifing together (competing to see who can throw knives with the most accuracy)

is a january capricorn

has expensive taste and only wears name brands

#loki #loki layfeson #america chavez #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #valkyrie #thor love and thunder #pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar #spider man across the spider verse #miles morales #bucky barnes #winter soldier

[neteyamsoare]

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ about me.

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ — hello!! welcome to my blog, i go by sia, here's a little introduction.

BIO. she / her pronouns. twenty one. my star signs are scorpio sun, virgo rising, and virgo moon. & my personality type is infp-t.

SHOWS & MOVIES. avatar & avatar: the way of water, marvel movies, tangled, encanto, frozen, aquamarine, think like a man, your name, the chronicles of narnia; the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe, steven universe, monster high (the old ones), barbie movies, bratz movies, atla, gossip girl, the big bang theory, mike & molly, amphibia, the owl house, gravity falls, the middle, regular show, infinity train, wandavision, the falcon and the winter soldier, loki, degrassi, friends, she-ra, ouran high school host club, arrow, the flash, winx club (the original), always open to suggestions and recs !!

BOOKS. since you've been gone, criminal, the secret to dating your best friend's sister, diary of a bad boy, boss man bridegroom, wait with me, the hate u give, the outsiders, diary of a wimpy kid series, dork diaries, etc.

LOVES. blue, red, green, black, listening to music, binging tv shows, watching romance/comedy/fantasy movies, iced matcha latte, reading, writing, video games.

HATES. rude people, horror movies, getting a tv show spoiled (unless its me spoiling myself), atla live action, winx club & monster high reboots.

MUSIC. chris brown, nicki minaj, jack harlow, j.i the prince of n.y, beyonce, tyga, a boogie wit da hoodie, jada kingdom, alkaline, doja cat, sza, bleu, lil baby, etc.

HOBBIES. reading, writing, drawing & playing video games.

GAMES. sims 2 & 4, la noire, horizon zero dawn, god of war, among us, disney dreamlight valley, t3 arena, stardew valley, avatar frontiers of pandora.

#✩ ₊˚👩🏾‍💻੭ — about me

[ohmytomorrowisthursday]

Until I Fall - Part Seven

Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader.

Eventual romance but this is a slow burn, definitely angsty and darker. It will also focus a lot on Hange, Erwin and the original scouts. Eren and the 104th training corps will be around but I’m focusing on the older characters in here. Your self insert name is ‘Azeria Becker’ pronouns She/Her/Hers. Using a name because don’t like using ‘y/n’.  

Cannon universe. I wrote this for myself but I hope that you enjoy it, too lol <3

As you stood in front of Levi on that final day, you couldnt help but remember every last moment of your time in the scouts. How had you gone from that scrawny young rookie trying to fight titans to Erwin’s right-hand soldier who overthrew the government and was about to charge to your death? It was never fair, you’d never get enough time together. Standing before him, his eyes full of the sadness of the truth, it hurt too much to say Goodbye, don’t forget me. I’ll love you forever, so instead you said the only word that you could manage to speak; Survive.

cw: imagine literally every awful/gory thing that happens in SNK. Death, violence and gore. Drinking, sex.

I will be releasing 2 chapters at a time every few days. You can find all chapters here.

You were up and ready for your early morning training faster than usual. It was so hard to fall asleep, you were far too excited; Ilse and you talked for hours about the next expedition. And Levi. You hadn't expected him to do this for you. It's not that he was unkind, its just that it seemed like he found you annoying. Maybe you were wrong about him. There was so much that you still didn't know. He was older than you by a few years- not too many, but life seemed to have wore his edges down. His eyes were tired and you could tell he had been through hell. Maybe one day he would finally open up and tell you more.

The winter air felt like ice when you went out to train int he morning. "Hey, moron," Levi remarked as he met with you in front of your dormitory, "Wipe that stupid look off your face, it's too early to be this happy."

You kept walking, happy to ignore his grumpy disposition.  "You know what," you said with a little hum, "You can't ruin my mood today. I'm too excited about joining Captain Erwin on the next expedition."

"Tsk. Don't get your hopes up too high. If you stay this bad it'll be your first and last time out with us." He groaned, but you knew that you were up for it. You had only gotten faster and stronger since the 26th expedition out, and it was bound to be easier this time.

"You're just mad that I'm as good as you now, and that's why you don't want me to join," You nudge him a little and he grumbled. "Let's just see what happens, brat."

Training with Erwin was not like training with your previous squad. They spent more time sitting around tables and planning than running drills. Erwin was confident and to the point. They had new gear that he wanted to test out; signal guns that had different colours to indicate whether a titan was spotted, the area was clear, or if there was a problem. It made you nervous to have to test out new equipment with them; you had never even fought alongside them, what if you messed everything up?

Finally, it was time to drill. "Azeria, how are you feeling?" Erwin asked you. He seemed kind, but he wasn't soft when he spoke. He was like a king among men when it came to the scout; so many of you were rough around the edges, scared and motivated by survival. Captain Erwin never seemed to feel any of it, or at least if he did it was buried in some vault deep behind his eyes. He was always perfectly composed. "I'm okay, Captain. I've never used a signal gun like this before." You examined the contraption in your hands; it wasn't like the handguns you had seen the Military Police carrying; instead it was small and light, with a wide barrel for the smoke bombs.

"You'll be just fine. It's a new tactic for everyone, just do your best."

And so, you did. Even though it was just training, everyone seemed as ready as they'd be in a real battle. Mike and Levi were by far the fastest, disappearing into the trees before your eyes. It only became apparent as to where they were when you saw the smoke signal up in the sky. Hange; they were the boldest. When a 'titan' was spotted she always found a creative way to maneuver herself into a high range spot as fast as she could. Her and Moblit took on the titans as a team. You were paired with Oliver; a soldier from the training corps before you. He was young, but had managed to kill 2 titans during his first two missions. "Okay, rookie, here's the plan; you do the spotting and I'll do the killing," He said. You let out a snort.

"Fine, but you'll have to keep up with me!" You clipped your horse and ran straight ahead into the woods. "Hey!" He yelled after you. You were determined to prove yourself to Erwin and the group; you wouldn't be slowing them down. You spotted the fake titan in the bushes and let out a flair. "Good, Azeria! Keep it up!" Erwin called from behind. Using your ODM gear you shot up into the trees to practice luring the titan, Oliver flew in a few seconds later and sliced the neck. "How are you so fast?!" He exclaimed, landing on the tree beside you. It made you even more determined to do well.

Behind, Erwin was riding with Hange, watching the teams youngest soldiers. "Hmmf," Hange let out a laugh, "Not bad for a trainee." Erwin smiled. "Not bad at all."

After running the drill you were exhausted. Dinner could not come fast enough. Erwin's squad was the first in; the group was so experienced that training at times seemed a little pointless. There was no way Levi and Mike needed to run drills.

"You did well today," Hange said, joining you at the table. Your cheeks were pink with exhaustion and you couldn't even imagine what your hair looked like. "Thank you, but I think you all just make it easy for me." They smiled, "A team is only good if everyone works together. Just because you're new doesn't mean that you're worse; we've just had more time to fight those monsters than you."

You paused, staring at your plate. "I just don't want to hold us back. When we're back out there."

"You won't. I know you wont. Making it back alive from your first expedition is a good sign that you'll survive, and if you keep doing what you did today, you'll be fine." Hange replied, "Plus, I'm certain that Levi's been making sure that you're ready." You looked over to him, sitting down at the other end of the table. He glanced over at you, and let out a smile. You felt your chest tighten a little and your cheeks go pink. Why do I want to impress you so bad? All you wanted was to see him smile more.

chapter eight

#levi ackerman #aot fandom #levi aot #levi x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi attack on titan #snk #aot #levi fanfiction #levi x fem!reader #levi heichou #snk levi #aot levi

[captaintoomanybattles]

I would like you to do 3 sentences for "shrinkyclinks oakland" for the writing game

Thanks for the ask! (The premise of this fic is that Steve finds a wounded Winter soldier, and brings him home to patch him up. CW for use of it/its pronouns.)

Steve glances at the photo, and smiles. “Oh, that’s Shuri. She runs the outreach center where I work. She’s an actual princess, can you believe it? The princess of Wakanda.”

The Asset just stares at the picture, the tremor in its hand making the paper flutter. Its first thought is that Steve had somehow tricked it, but it dismisses that—Steve would have hidden the photograph, if this was a trap. He wouldn’t just let the Asset find it. The second option, then, is that this is just terrible, terrible luck.

It closes its eyes. Of course it is. Because nothing can go right for it on this shit-show of a mission, can it?

“Buddy?” Steve asks, now sounding concerned. “Are you okay?”

“She’s—” The Asset stops itself. It can’t tell Steve who its target is. “Her people did this to me,” it finally says, gesturing to its injuries.

There’s a long, terrible silence, while Steve’s expression slowly morphs from shock, to realization, to horror.

#wip ask game #shrinkyclinks #steve rogers #bucky barnes #cw: winter soldier angst #my fic #captain america

[killerkillerkillher]

A/B/O HEADCANNONS w/ 141

Hi. Okay so I was sitting here thinking about cod and fandoms and stuff, right? And how there's a natural sort of timeline that plays out with anything that gets popular, ei. Shipping, cafe au, cross overs and whatnot. I've seen it all in the mw2 fandom so far except... omegaverse. So here. I might not be the first but I will not be the last. Cheers.

Warning: nothing really. Very brief mention of ghost's past but no real details. There is pining but options are gave to keep it all platonic. Sfw. Sorry for any mistakes.

They/them reader pronouns. Call sign is Winter.

PRICE

● definitely an alpha.

● he's passive for the most part and doesn't let his biology get in the way of his work.

● he would be someone that omegas are 100% okay hanging around with not matter the circumstances. Their heat is coming and they need aid finding shelter? He will be there to help and the omega doesn't have to worry about getting taken advantage of. Someone is bullying them? He'll nip that behavior in the bud immediately.

● is not alpha aggressive. That means that he doesn't pick fights with other alpha's just because. He is self assured and knows that his position as captain in is no danger.

● I can imagine he would just have that crisp, cool autumn morning smell if that makes sense. Like one of those days you would go out and just step on all the crunchy leaves on the sidewalk. Maybe a little nutty.

● the base knows when he's in rut when he starts going soft on some people. And by some people I mean you.

● "I didn't see you in the mess, Winter. Did you eat yet?"

● "Hm? Oh, no, Captain. I'll go later, I need to keep reading these papers."

● "Those can wait. Let's go get you diner."

● "But Captain..."

● "No but's. Can't have one of my best skipping meals."

● no matter what your secondary gender would be, he would dote on you. If you aren't in a relationship, this would be an indirect admission of his feelings.

● if you're already with someone (and not accepting additional partners), he would watch himself. There would be lots of fleeting glances and pulled back touches.

● he thinks the fact that some alphas actually growl is crazy. Would not be able to take someone seriously if they did so at him.

● doesn't restrict his scent or anything. It's generally not overbearing and people have said they find comfort in it.

GAZ

● honestly, I'm a little torn with Gaz. In my soul of souls, he's giving beta. But another part of me is saying alpha :/

● he could be either, but I'll write him as an alpha for now.

● he's similar to Price to be honest. He's quite passive, but not to such an extent.

● another man that omegas would feel safe with. He wouldn't really see it until he starts noticing that a lot of the lower ranking omega soldiers confide with him often. Definitely makes note of any reoccurring issues he hears and reports them to Price.

● won't start fights, but will end them if someone bothers him enough. He prefers to use words to end conflict but he'll take someone in a sparring match if he thinks it's necessary.

● smells very oaky, maybe mixed with some eucalyptus. He definitely has a relaxing smell, making him is the best cuddle contender on this list.

● his rut is a whole other story. He is also noticeably different.

● not aggressive or anything, but he'll get slightly more closed off, more serious. Soap isn't able to get as many laughs out of him during this time, but Gaz will still hang out with him.

● definitely worries about you more than he usually would.

● "Ouch!"

● "Hey, what happened? Let me see."

● "It's nothing, just a paper cut."

● "Jesus, you're bleeding. We need to go get a band-aid before it gets infected."

● "Huh? GazーGaz, its just a little cut."

● "And it could get way worse. Come on."

● His coddling won't be a confession, he'd probably just out right tell you. Not on purpose though. Those hormones will have him making some personal rash decisions and it'll slip out if he thinks you're being particularly alluring.

● not into him or you're taken? He'll avoid you to make sure he doesn't make any slips. If you ask about it he'll just tell you that he's just going through the motions of rut.

● Used to do the silly growling when he was a teen. Reality hit him once he was out of school that it was not sexy. Atleast, not the way he was doing it.

● if he let's a growl out anywhere near Soap or the captain? It's over for him. They will not let him live it down.

● covers his scent glands with patches to dampen his scent to make others more comfortable :)

SOAP

● another person I struggled with. I was stuck between omega and beta for a hot minute, however I have come to a conclusion.

● he's an omega (please don't kill me)

● Years in the military has given him a lot of practice when handling alphas, specifically, lower ranking ones.

● they get jealous, or viciously angry about having to take orders from an omega, and so he's had to put up with more than he'd like to say.

● would happily step into the ring with anyone who questions his integrity. He's quick to prove that he's where he is today because of his skills, and that his body does nothing to interfere with that.

● has forced himself to override his instincts when it comes to smells and alphas and whatnot. Probably struggled with it a lot when he was younger and got into somethings he shouldn't have. Learned from his mistakes and has tried to improve his restraint.

● Smells really earthy. Have you ever laid down on slightly wet grass and just got a whiff? That. And cotton.

● Heats for him aren't terrible. He will be a little needier, a little more talkative. You'll find him in his bed more often, curled in some spare blankets and entertaining himself on his phone.

● he's able to power through it on assignments if he needs to.

● I think of heats almost like periods? If ppl with periods can get though it (they shouldn't have to but you know) without getting the care and treatment that they should, then omegas could as well. Soap would definitely pop a few painkillers and keep trucking.

● expect for him to want you around A LOT.

● "Winter, here. Come closer. Closer."

● "I get any closer and I'll be in your bed."

● "I know. That's the point."

● You're his designated cuddle buddy. Prepare to be the big spoon because he will shamelessly ask you to be. Not a cuddler? Then maybe you'll at least hold his hand. He just craves that contact.

● let's say you're taken and/or not comfortable with that. He'd find solace in his pillow, or if Ghost doesn't mind, he'll ask him. Asking Ghost only has a 40% success rate, however.

● growls as a joke, but thinks it's actually very stupid. Has had people growl at him to be aggressive or sexy but he just ended up laughing them off.

● patches over his scent glands for his own sanity.

GHOST

● was split between alpha and omega. I obviously found a conclusion. Please do not kill me (again).

● So, I think he was born an alpha, but the environment he grew up in was so stressful that it caused his body to adapt into something that it thought would increase his survival chances.

● and so, he presented earlier than most as an alpha, but was put under so much pressure by his father that most would not have to endure at that age. The stress caused a hormone imbalance that lead to permanent damage to his body.

● thus, making him virtually an omega. (I would love to build on this concept more in the future)

● it's a rare phenomenon, but it can happen.

● is absolutely aggressive towards alphas he doesn't have familiarity with. He's probably even wary of betas as well dispite their general lack of danger.

● Price and Gaz are completely fine in his books. You are too if you're an alpha.

● no one picks fights with this man unless they want to get hurt, because that's the only viable conclusion.

● he's made a point that he is not to be fucked with, he doesn't not care who you are. Alpha's will have to bite their tongues and listen when orders leave his mouth.

● his smell is probably confusing. Like antifreeze and smoke. Sweet and musky. An odd mix.

● his heats are odd as well.

● he'll be damned if anyone catches him lacking. You will not be able to tell he's in heat because he'll be on a near lethal amount of hormone stabilizers and his neck will be matted with gland patches.

● but he's still human. Sometimes his shell will crack and he'll look for you. You'll know something's up when he asks to borrow a piece of clothing very casually.

● "Hey, Ghost. What's up?"

● "Think I can use one of your jumpers? Mines in the wash."

●"...? Yeah, sure. I think I have one that should fit you. It'll probably stink of me, though. Sorry about that."

● "'t's fine."

● jokes on you, that's why he wants it.

● using your clothes let's him relax and ride the motions of his heat with more comfort. It also helps him keep it private. Might wear the sweater to sleep or stuff it under his pillow.

● nothing of yours can be used? That's fine. He'll suffer in silence tbh. I can't imagine he has a nice, healthy list of coping mechanisms.

● growls, but intimately. Like a purring cat. It's rare, but it'll happen. If you point it out he will deny it until he dies. Don't expect to hear it again for a long time.

● most people think he's a beta because his scent is so muted. He does everything in his power to prevent anyone from finding out he's an omega.

#ghost mw2 #cod modern warfare #codmw2022 #soap mw2 #price mw2 #gaz mw2 #a/b/o headcanon #a/b/o au #cannontothehead

[sircnum]

[ adria arjona, cisfemale, she/her, 31/150 ] we've followed [ MORRENNA QUIXOS ] for awhile now, the [ WITCHER ] has been in Skellige for [ A MONTH ]. They're known to be [ AVARICIOUS ] and [ CHARISMATIC ]. They often remind us of [ LINGERING SCENT OF LAVENDER, SHARP BLADE BALANCED IN HER GRIP, SMILES THAT NEVER REACH THE EYES ]. Our thread has already been woven on what their future is looking like, but we're eager to see the  [ ASSASSIN / WITCHER ( SCHOOL OF THE VIPER) ] experience it.

tw: murder, child abuse

basics

full name : morrenna quixos

name meaning: iteration of morena/marena the slavic goddess of death & winter, to desire to want

nickname / alias: døden

gender / pronouns: she/her

sexuality: pansexual

age, birthday + birth runes: 30, 16th July @ 5am, uruz & teiwaz

place of birth: tir tochair mountains

accent : altered depending on who she speaks to

occupation: witcher & assassin for hire

associated locations: school of the viper

song: devil is a woman by cloudy june

appearance

faceclaim: adria arjona

height: 5″3

eyecolor: hazel/green

haircolor: dark brown

build: slim/athletic

tattoos / scars / key features: cat-like eyes

personality

positive traits: charismatic, independent, determined

negative traits: reticent, avaricious, vicious

relationships

parents : unknown

siblings : unknown

children : none, she is infertile ( not that she’d ever want children )

pets : klok ( raven )

other

most used witcher sign: axii

favourite weapon: small silver knife with an onyx hilt

relationship to the gods: doesn’t worship but doesn’t care if they’re real or not, belief doesn’t keep her pockets and stomach full. 

characters she’s inspired by: faith ( buffy the vampire slayer ) , katherine pierce ( the vampire diaries ) , kate argent ( teen wolf )

history

a girl is born in a mountain village, to parents who had no want or love for a child. rather than raise the infant, a mouth they cannot feed, they do what they believe to be a kindness. mercy, even. they leave their child to die on the mountainside. exposed, alone, starving. it is the end of the peasant’s daughter. 

in coming, a party on horseback, returning from a well earned victory - scent of blood and sweat still clinging to their skin. shrill, desperate cries should be lost to the barren landscape; but are instead captured by senses heightened over years of intense training. a baby is found. it is the beginning of the viper’s girl. 

a baby is of little use to a brotherhood, on paper nothing but a burden. but the school of the viper sees potential, a child that can be moulded into a weapon from its very beginning. they raise her, patient through those first feeble years. until they can shape her into their masterpiece. she is three when she holds her first blade, supervised while it bites at the skin of her tender palm. five, when she makes the choice. seven, when she begins the first trial. 

the school of the viper pushes at the boundaries of the psyche, of will. it claws away at the innocence and humanity within. and when there is nothing left but an empty vessel, it fills the girl with poison. the kind that burns through her veins, twisting her thoughts into little but the yearning for hot, fresh blood on her finger tips. 

once that thirst is ignited, they teach the most valuable lesson she ever learns. anyone can be a monster. and for the right price, she will always be a monster hunter. 

a mutant soldier loyal to the cause ( of any death at her hand ) leaves the mountains on which she was meant to die. the world, and its coin, are at her feet. she chases it, follows the death and leaves it in her wake, pockets full of whatever she can claim. the people come to know the name, that døden will do anything for a price. 

as she ages, the thirst, hunger, insatiable within her grows. she feeds her desire with death. and when the killing is done, she feeds it again; this time with bodies warm beneath her in lieu of blood. it matters not the body itself - although much like her love of coin, she collects pretty things - but the power and control in the claiming of them. she learns a new skill, at the hands of a wanton sorceress, that vipers could never teach. seduction. 

over a century passes. the woman morrenna remains enshrouded behind the many faces of døden. she sees the collapse of her only home, the school of the viper, and feels nothing - another meaningless end. bodies pile up beneath her, blood on the sword, notches on the bedpost. the work gets dirty, she likes it that way. likes the lines blurred, no morality, just life and death and the choice is hers. 

she follows where the money takes her. skellige. a promise, an incentive is offered, an unusual prospect of life over death. of one desperate enough to trust that gold will keep her with them, and she will keep them safe. 

#nornsintro #about : morrenna