#it... slightly character assassinates sam

[buckybabybaby]

first and last

A/N: first fic in nearly 4 years! <3 I said I wanted to write something for Joaquín when tfatws first aired - better late than never I guess.

I just love him so much, my comfort character since 2021 but even more so since bnw <3 hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x reader (gender neutral)

Plot: (slight spoilers for bnw) You rush to Joaquín's bedside after his accident.

(friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, fluff, mutual pining, love confession, one shot)

Warnings: angst, injured characters

Word count: 3.3k

Masterlist

AO3

***

The phone call you received informing you of Joaquín's accident feels like a lifetime ago, when in reality its only been a few days. You were half way though a trip to Spain, enjoying the early evening sunshine in a park in Barcelona, when your phone lit up.

Immediately you knew it wasn't good news.

Sam didn't call, or at least he didn't call you, and you were aware he and Joaquín were deep in a mission following the assassination attempt, so you were almost prepared for what he was about to say.

The moment you heard Joaquín was alive, but critical, you rushed to come back home. It was torture waiting several hours for a direct flight instead of a couple of connecting ones that would have got you back earlier, but in the end you're glad you took Sam's advice. You can't imagine trying to navigate unfamiliar airports to make your layover in the state you were in, impatient and so sick with worry the in-flight meals remained untouched.

The rest of the journey was a blur, security was thankfully quiet and then Sam was meeting you at the taxi rank, hugging you tight and letting you know the surgery went well and Joaquín was going to live.

That was the point you let yourself break. Ugly crying into Captain America's hoodie, the numbness that kept you composed enough to travel back across the Atlantic wearing off, replaced by the need to confirm that statement.

You needed to see he was still here.

You pulled out of his embrace and tried to compose yourself. Sam scanned you up and down, noting your unkempt appearance, more than is usual after a long haul flight, his expression softening.

'Do you want to go home and change before-"

You interrupted quickly. "No, I need, need to," you gasped, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. "I just need to see him."

"He's still in and out after the general anaesthetic, not exactly his usual talkative self."

"That's okay, please." You sounded so desperate Sam couldn't say no.

"All right." He grabbed your suitcase and lead the way to his car. "Visiting hours are over but I can get you in."

***

The first sight of Joaquín at the hospital has you turning away to gather yourself. Thankfully like Sam said he might be he is asleep, as the last thing you want is to add to his woes by reacting so negatively to his appearance.

The hospital bed makes him look so small, and with his hair flatter than you know he likes it and his skin drained of colour, if the doctors hadn't said they were sure he'd recover you'd be preparing to say goodbye. He looks so vulnerable like this.

Over the next hours you sit and watch, counting his breaths, reassuring yourself he's here and in one slightly battered piece. Healthcare workers and other visitors come and go, notably James Barnes who you've not met before and fear you make a poor first impression to.

Sam also stops by, persuading you to eat and then take a shower in the private bathroom. He has had your laundry from your holiday washed and folded back into your suitcase, as if you're about to go away and not just returned in a rush. Freshening up and sliding into a clean tracksuit set, you feel as though you've washed half the worry away too and can be here for your friend with a clearer mind.

Thanking Sam, he let's you be and you take your place back at Joaquín's bedside.

As you wait for the effects of the anaesthetic to wear off, you allow your mind to wander. Joaquín's been in a fair few accidents over the years, it comes with the territory, deep cuts and nasty grazes you've helped him clean and dress on many occasions. It always made your chest feel tight with worry, but this time is different.

This time you really could have lost him.

Joaquín was the transfer student you'd befriended on his first day at your high school. He had looked so lost, with his backpack nearly as big as he was and clutching a map you knew from experience was out of date, that you just had to rescue him. Happily he was in the same class as you for the first period, and you've been stuck together ever since.

You soon learnt he wasn't as shy as he seemed that first day. In fact it was hard to shut him up. Being the 'quiet kid' yourself it was a shock to suddenly be thrown out of the library for being disruptive, or get your first ever detention after he persuaded you to skip class to go watch aeroplanes land at the local airport. He always made up for it though, helping you study even if you had to find an empty classroom whilst the library still had you barred, keeping his grades high and in line with yours so you'd always give in and agree to his next crazy idea.

You and Joaquín compliment each other well. He brings you out of your shell, while you help to keep him grounded, through out school and his military service, and especially now in this new world of super heroes he's entered.

Somewhere along that timeline you fell in love with him. It was hard when you were younger, to see people fight to get close to him, the very definition of life of the party and so so pretty to go along with it. And now? He's a real life hero who has the pick of anyone he wants. You've always just been on the sidelines, cheering him on even as your heart breaks.

There were times you let yourself hope you could be more than that, quiet moments when he sought you out first once he'd finished a mission. He didn't always talk about what happened and you knew when it was best not to push, but he seemed to find comfort just being with you and you were happy to have that effect.

You just wished you could be his home forever.

You reach out to grab his limp hand, overwhelmed with your feelings suddenly. Sam had said he called you and only you after Joaquín's immediate family, you were important enough to him to be included in his emergency contacts and the only one of his friends allowed here even though he has plenty. Surely it meant something?

The beeping machine monitoring his heart reminds you how badly this could have gone, how he could be in a completely different part of the hospital now instead of this private recovery suite. Tears fill your eyes at the thought. He could be gone and you would have never got the chance to say how you feel, to see if it could be reciprocated, to take that next step together.

But the beeping also shows you have a chance; It is not too late and maybe this is the push you need.

You're so lost in your thoughts it takes a long moment to notice he's stirring, frowning as the pain hits him. You release his hand but stay close, allowing him to notice you in his own time.

Joaquín's eyes flutter open, he shifts his head in your direction and, it takes a few seconds, but then his face lights up, as much as it can when he's still waking up.

"You're here!"

"Course I am." Where else would you be? "How-how do you feel?"

You try to seem bright but the way your voice breaks betrays your emotions. You thought you were all cried out, but seeing him alert and hearing him talk is enough to set you off again.

Fresh tears fall down your face as he looks at you with pity, like you're the injured one needing looking after. He raises his hand you were holding before, a silent invitation you take to come closer, sitting back down and pulling the chair flush to the edge of his bed.

"My pretty cariño, I'm not worth your tears."

That makes you cry more. His face drops and instead of trying to talk you around he just pulls your head gently against the side of his chest without any bandages, draping his arm over your shoulder and holding you close, understanding you just need to be quiet and listen to his heartbeat for a while. Resting your joined hands against his thigh, you allow his tight grip and solid, sleep warm body to reassure you he's going to be okay.

Eventually you trust yourself to speak again.

"Do you want some water?"

He nods and you help him take a few careful sips from the cup on his bedside. As you refill it from the jug and rearrange his gift basket of fruits and chocolates, he takes in the towering mountain of presents.

"Hey, flowers! And cards. Damn, someone's popular," he jokes.

You smile for the first time in a while, moving one card closer to him. "This is the reason I can never accompany you anywhere James Barnes may be ever again."

He reads the inside and pulls a face in confusion so you explain.

"He came to visit earlier, before lunch. Would have waited to talk to you but he had some campaigning thing to get to. I was hoping you'd wake so I wasn't alone but you always say he's quite chill once you get him talking, so I thought I'd be cool, like I am with Sam, right?”

You don't wait for him to contradict you, both knowing you were decidedly not cool the first time you met Sam.

"I really thought it'd be okay but, oh my gosh Joaquín, I made such a fool of myself."

He laughs fondly. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"It was," You whine. "'Cos he was so pretty and tall and worried about me as well as you, as apparently Sam and you talk about me enough that he knew who I was without me introducing myself. That threw me off to start and I just got more and more flustered. I even curtsied!"

Your cheeks are burning at the memory, but its worth it to entertain Joaquín.

"Wish I'd seen that," He smirks, then winces as the movement pulls at a cut on his lip. He presses his tongue to the area to test it and its your turn to wince. Years of patching him up has also lead to years of reminding him not to make the injury worse and fretting over him when he inevitably does, too impatient to let himself heal fully, dozens of tiny scars testament to his restlessness.

You rise from your chair and move to the corner where your suitcase lays open, searching through it for your toiletry bag.

Joaquín clearly misinterprets your actions.

"Hey I'm sorry," He calls after you, voice weak. "Bucky really is chill, he won't judge."

He tries to raise up from the pillows more, grimacing at the pain putting weight on the arm on his injured side causes. Hurrying back to his bed, you help him sit comfortably again before you reveal the reason you abandoned him for a whole three seconds.

"Relax," You stay sternly. "I was just getting this."

Breaking the hygiene seal on your new lip balm, you open it and tilt his head so you can apply it easily.

"I bought this in Spain, it is the same brand you always use but a Spanish version with olive oil. You know how many I have, don't exactly need another one, so this one is yours now. If you think it's anything special I'm sure I can find it online."

Pressing the balm to his mouth, you run it over his lips a few times, careful with the sore area but making sure it gets covered sufficiently, hoping it lives up to the hype the advertising sold you on.

"Spain?" He asks when you are done. "Oh." He swears quietly, shaking his head, "Spain, your holiday. Were you home before I was brought here?"

You stay silent and that's answer enough.

"Sweetheart, please say you didn't come back early for me?"

"Of course I did."

He looks conflicted. Whenever you dropped everything for him he always looked the same, like he couldn't quite believe you cared so much. It was a doubt you were always trying to prove wrong, you want him to know you'll always be there for him, wherever and whenever.

"If it was me, here, like this, would you have continued visiting museums and eating churros like nothing was wrong?" You question.

"Well, no. But that is different."

"How is it different?"

"Because I'm in love with you."

His statement is so plain and simple, like it's a known fact. You're frozen in place, staring at him, analysing his expression and trying to determine if this is some sort of joke. He doesn't look like he's joking.

Joaquín sighs, taking the lip balm out of your shock-weakened grip and recapping it.

"Can you sit down please?" He asks. "And let me just say something, something that I should have said years ago. If its not welcome and you don't feel the same way, we can just chalk it up to me being off my head on painkillers, yeah? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Dropping back ungracefully into your chair, you swallow, his intense gaze unfamiliar.

Joaquín turns towards you as much as he can, taking one of your hands in both of his and bringing it to his mouth to press a soft kiss to your finger tips, mindful of his graze.

You can't quite catch your breath as he starts speaking.

"My beautiful, beautiful best friend. You're my first and last thought, always. Before I blacked out, I thought about how I should have told you how I feel and now I'd never get the chance. And then, I woke up and my first thought was how I've got a second chance to try. To see if there's something here."

He pauses, squinting at you to gauge your reaction. "Is that an insane thing to say? If it is, like I said, blame the morphine"

You try to think of a reply but come up blank. Joaquín takes your silence as permission to continue.

"I'm not the best with words, more of an action man, you know that, so I'll finish with this. I love you. I've been in love with you for years. And if it takes nearly dying-" You whimper at his wording, "-to finally find the courage to confess then so be it."

Crying is your go-to response at the moment and now is no different. Pulling away from his hold, you grab a tissue from the box beside his bed and try in vain to dry your eyes. Joaquín makes a noise in sympathy, taking the tissue himself as he cups your face and makes you look at him directly.

"Are these happy tears? Or do I need to pretend my wound reopened and get a resus team in here to forget the whole thing?"

You recoil in horror at the thought. "D-don't even say that!"

"Okay, maybe not that extreme. But something like that?" He guides you closer, apparently suddenly able to read you like a book and know that no such measure to ignore his confession is necessary. "Or, can I kiss you finally?"

This close you can count his lashes, his dark eyes catching the muted sunlight filtering through the curtains, so beautiful and so full of life.

You give him a shaky smile. "I think the second one."

He nods, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. "Second one it is," He murmurs before his mouth meets yours.

Its not much more than a press of lips together, delicate as to not cause more irritation to his wound, but to you it's perfect. Even with your cheeks damp with tears, even with him not able to reach far from his hospital bed and you having to support some of his weight when he tries to get closer, its still better than you could have imagined.

Not wanting to tire him too much, you pull away, pressing a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth when he whines in protest.

You go to sit back in the seat but Joaquín does not like that idea, shuffling carefully to one side of the bed and persuading you to climb on next to him. Gingerly adjusting yourself, you let him fuss the blanket across your lap too as you make sure his lines stay attached and untangled.

His head drops to your shoulder when you are settled. "Damn. I'm out of breath and I didn't even kiss you properly."

Patting his hair in sympathy, you let your fingers thread into his curls and massage his scalp gently. "You had major, heart restarting surgery only a day ago," You remind him. "Give yourself time."

It's cosy like this, pressed against each other, the silence comfortable until you realise you haven't confessed yourself.

"I love you too, by the way," You whisper. Joaquín lifts his head again so he can catch your eye as you continue. "I was sat here thinking almost the same thing as you, about letting you know how I feel. You beat me to it." His smug little chuckle has you poking his good side very gently, before adding, "I don't remember the exact moment I started, but I promise I won't stop loving you any time soon."

"That's reassuring." He settles back against the headboard, bringing you with him. "I appreciate that."

You giggle, your hand sliding back into his hair, detangling parts that have become knotted and making him hiss at one point when you accidentally press on a bruise.

"I'm sorry!" You could cry again. "Was that from the accident?"

"Probably. Wouldn't it be nice if that was the only damage I sustained?"

It would, you agree silently. He notices you becoming upset again and rushes to comfort you.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm still here," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "And you have to remember, I looked so good before I fell! Me and Sam, working as a team, like-" He waves his hands around, mimicking two people flying in sync and making appropriate noises to set the scene.

It's so nice to laugh at his enthusiasm again. You hope he never loses it, hope it never becomes routine or too much for him to cope with.

"I'll see if I can get some footage. The bit before, you know."

"I don't think I even want to see that." He pouts and you melt at how cute he looks, finding a way to satisfy him. "I don't want to see it because I know how it ends. But I will come watch you train. You can show me your new moves, if you want?"

"Really?" His grin pulls at his cut lip again but he doesn't seem to notice. "You'd really come watch?"

There was always something getting in the way of you watching before, mostly you not wanting to intrude, and still being slightly wary of anything avengers related. But if he looked at you like he is now? You'd agree to go watch just about anything.

"Really really."

Satisfied with your promise, Joaquín sinks back into his pillows, the adrenaline from his confession wearing off and sleep drawing him back under once more. You let him curl against you, holding his hand again when he reaches for it, promising to still be here when he wakes again.

You watch his features relax, this time with a small smile on your face, no tears in sight.

He's still here.

Warm.

Safe.

Yours.

***

Masterlist

***

Thank you for reading! <3

[hapuchika]

Mischief & Malice - Chapter 2

Summary: Reader rescues WandaNat but in their own way

Warning: torture, graphic violence, angst, fluff at the end, like LOTS IF VIOLENCE.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: to properly get into the headspace of reading this, I would recommend listening to Odysseus from Ithica Saga in Epic the Musical.

Enjoyyy

X—X—X���X—X

Thirty-six hours. Thirty-six. Fucking. Hours.

You slept for thirty-six hours, and now your girlfriends have been taken. The worst part? You played a part in setting up the organisation that kidnapped them.

You storm out of your room, rage searing your veins. You walk in to find the team brainstorming. Useless. All of them. Pathetic and useless.

The room stills as you enter, fury emanating from you in waves. You look at Clint, a brief nod and he’s walking towards you.

“Wait,” Steve says, blocking the exit. You glare at him, slightly impressed he didn’t cower at the look. Most do.

“Tell us what you know. Let us help.” He says.

You say nothing, unable to believe the gal on this man.

“Step. Aside.” You grit out.

Steve shakes his head, “I can’t let you do that y/n. If we’re doing this, we do it right. They’ve taken one of us. Tell us what you know, and we will go together.”

Your body tenses, your anger visible in your posture. You take a step forward, getting into Steve’s personal space.

“Step aside, Steve. Last chance.”

Tony visibly flinches at that, flashbacks of a certain prison cell playing in his head.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder. Loki, no longer a raven-haired woman, looks at you gently. The rage in you softens a degree.

“What can we do to help?” They ask cooly.

“Ae. Send them all the locations of the Scylla organisation.” You call out.

Tony immediately got to work and brought out a map of all the bases they had in the west. Sam lets out a low whistle.

“That’s a lot of places to cover.” He comments.

You simply nod.

“Y/n,” Bucky asks gently, “where are Wanda and Natasha?”

You stiffen at the question. Wordlessly, you pinpoint a specific base deep in the Alaskan ice.

Steve nodded. “Let's get ready then.”

You ignore the captain and look at the gods, who never take their eyes off you.

“I want it gone. All of it.” You tell them quietly.

Loki smirks; meanwhile, Thor picks up Stormbringer.

You march out, Clint in tow. Ignoring Steve’s calls, you walk towards Wanda’s bedroom.

Ae connects the door to your armoury, letting you enter without hassle.

Clint freezes as he steps into the armoury, spins around to see an empty corridor where the door was moments ago.

“Were you always able to teleport?” He asked, looking around.

You nod, going through the arsenal and finally deciding on what you need.

“Don’t touch anything, " you warn before entering the changing room and coming out in fitted black tactical gear and a deep purple cloak.

Clint stares at you in amusement. “You look like an Assassin’s Creed character, but edgier.”

You simply roll your eyes and toss him his pair. When he enters the changing room, you walk to the long-range section, a wall filled with throwing knives, shuriken, gauntlets, and finally, two bows.

“I suppose that’s why you asked me instead of shiny arm or sparkles.” He comments, walking towards the bows.

He gave himself a moment to admire the bows before grabbing the silver one that seemed more his size.

You nod in approval. “Good choice.” And grab the larger, golden bow.

The two of you walk through another door and out into a restaurant. Clint is surprised that nobody gives either of you any strange glances, especially given the purple cloak.

The cold wind hits his face as he steps out of the restaurant. To his surprise, he does not feel cold in the slightest despite only wearing a thin cotton outfit and the cloak.

You say nothing as you raise your cloak and throw the bow into it casually. The bow disappears as though into the cloak itself.

Clint does the same and practically squeals as the silver bow disappears into his cloak. When he attempts to reach in to hit, his hand immediately wraps around the handle.

The two of you sit down in a car you ‘comendeered’ before you begin the drive. You remain silent for the first half hour of the journey.

“The quinjet would have been faster.” The archer states an hour into the drive.

You let a small smirk form. “Not if you’re on the other side of the planet.”

He chuckles, “I knew there was no way you’d give the coordinates so easily. You just have to do it the hard way.”

You glance at him, frowning. “I’m not doing this because it’s the hard way. It’s the only way. The Scylla operation isn’t like Hydra. Their goal isn't to ‘free’ the world. They want to feed. They want to drown the world. They have meticulous plans to take down each of the Avengers if need be.”

Clint frowns. “How can they know that?”

Your silence answers his question.

“You helped them?” He asks incredulously.

You shurg, “I was seventeen. I hated the world and everything it stood for. When you know the secrets of every person on the planet, every crime, every sin, it’s hard to remain optimistic. People who claimed to be the force of good were manipulated by evil. Some pretended to be kind while hiding atrocities.”

Clint looks away, unable to imagine the sheer magnitude of what you said.

You sigh. “Look, when they came to me, Sokovia had just fallen. You know what I saw? I saw people walk over the injured. I saw people kill others out of frustration and hope they would be saved. Do you know how many people died simply because the number of escape ships SHIELD brought looked less? People ignored cries for help simply because they thought it would give them a better chance. This one guy literally robbed money from dead bodies on his way to your little escape pod.”

You nodded at Clint’s look of disgust and continued planning.

“Y/n… what are they doing to her?” You hear the archer ask, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You think for a moment, your grip on the wheel tightening to a dangerous degree.

“Nothing they won’t pay for.”

He nods, still looking distraught.

You stop the car on a hill overlooking the base, get out, and toss your cloak in the backseat.

“Clint. I want you to kill everyone who comes outside that facility. Don’t step inside; they know who you are and how to take you down. This is the perfect spot. The bow you have, I call the Huntress. After Artemis, the Goddess of Hunting. Now it is imbued with spells that allow you sight and strength. I had Lady Artemis herself make sure that it never runs out of arrows.”

Clint pulls out the Silver bow and examines its intricate design. The drawstring seems to have a slight silver glow that can be seen even in the evening sun. He nods at your statement and runs off, scouting the location.

You crack your neck from side to side and walk toward the facility, daggers in hand.

“Ae,” you say to the earpiece in your ear.

“I’m here, y/n.” The AI responds gently.

“I want them afraid. They will die. All of them. Lead them into the main hall.” You say the final rays of the setting sun recede into the distance.

“They wanted to snuff out humanity’s light.”

The guards at the gate shine the lights at you, shouting at you to identify yourself.

“Let’s show them the darkness.”

X—X—X—X—X

The mission was supposed to be easy. A simple recon mission that required her expertise, she had insisted Wanda join her to make a date out of it. She wanted to ask you as well, but you had made it clear that you did not wish to be involved in any missions handed down by Steve or any of the other Avengers.

The spy and the witch didn’t even notice the prick of the injection. In truth, the sight of an injured child wearing a familiar baby pink leotard had Natasha frozen for longer than she should have, given the situation.

Natasha’s thoughts were interrupted by another slice across her abdomen. She let out a gutteral scream.

The man opposite her grins, relishing in the blood and screams. She knew his type; he enjoyed it. Got off on it. He did this simply because it brought him joy.

Nobody had asked her any questions, nothing. They simply began cutting her open. Wanda was strapped to a chair, her body seizing under the electricity running through her.

Then he had come, the boss. It was obviously him. The rest looked at him with deference, awe. It made sense, the man was 7 feet tall, built like a fucking fridge.

He sat down in his unnecessarily large chair opposite the two of them and simply watched them.

It was a few hours after the torture had started that he got a call. He stood up, face ashen. He spoke into his phone a language Natasha didn’t recognise. Perhaps she did, but being carved up like turkey tends to inhibit a person’s focus.

Another sharp pain, this time on her inner thigh, brought her out of her thoughts yet again. Natasha tries to hold back the sob, but the pain proves too much.

“QUIET!” roars the boss.

He continues pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.

“It can’t be the Avengers. How could they know of our locations? That, too, so suddenly. Only one person cou-“

His gaze snaps to Natasha.

“You there. Spy. Do you know the name Y/n Y/l/n?” He asks.

Natasha freezes at the mention, her cognitive process unable to hide many of her tells.

The human fridge curses, walks towards the spy, and roughly grabs her jaw.

“Who is that person to you? TELL ME.” He snarls.

Natasha spits on his face, earning her a backhanded slap that nearly knocks her out.

He grabs her face once again and repeats his question, grabbing a knife nearby and slamming it into her thigh.

Natasha howls, her body slumping back into the chair. He growls in frustration as she mumbles something.

He brings his ear closer to her mouth, her eyes already having rolled back.

“The.. loves.. of.. my.. life.. Wands… and… y/n”

At that moment, the lights go out.

X—X—X—X—X

The sound of heavy gunfire and screams brings Natasha back to consciousness. She is briefly aware that she is being carried somewhere.

“There’s someone in the forest! They’re taking us out one by one!” She hears someone scream in the distance.

“They’re here! OH MY GOD, THEY’RE HE-“

The speakers crackle to life, and Natasha lets out a sob at the sound of your voice.

“For countless years, I have stood by, allowing you to wreak havoc and inflict unimaginable suffering. I set a single, unyielding rule for you: No innocents. Yet, today, you have shattered that rule, seizing what is most cherished to my heart. Today, I unleash my wrath upon you all.”

The speakers go silent once again.

Natasha is led to a large hall. Most of the soldiers are here, guns trained at the entrance, the only way in or out.

She is taken to the back of the hall with an unconscious Wanda. Two guards have their guns on either Avenger, and the main boss stands in front.

The screams and gunshots get louder until they’re right behind the closed door.

Silence

You open the door slowly, revealing yourself to hundreds of soldiers in the room.

You are covered in blood, the daggers you wield glowing a dangerous red and purple, the glow almost pulsating, as though the daggers had finally awoken.

Natasha knew. They wanted blood.

“Y/n” the boss calls out, his voice filled with unease.

“I- I didn’t know. Let’s make a deal, huh? We had over the Avengers and a hundred billion, and we turn ourselves in.”

The man snaps his fingers, and the soldiers hesitantly put their weapons down, getting on the ground in the form of surrender.

You say nothing, your eyes fixated on your partners. You meet Natasha’s eyes, and you feel it. A fury unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Yet this anger didn’t burn; it felt cold. Too cold.

You look at the boss.

“You kidnapped the ones I love. Hurt them. Torture them. Yet you expect me to show you mercy?

No. None of you. None of you deserve it. All of you are going to die.”

You take a step forward and slice open a soldier’s neck, leaving just enough attached that his head hangs off the side by the skin, blood spurting out from his neck.

Before anyone can react, you move inhumanely fast, decapitating another four people.

Then the screams begin. Gunshots, attacks, you dodge them all.

One got on his knees begging, “I surrend-“

You stab him in the throat. “No.”b

Natasha had seen you fight before; she had always thought the way you fought was beautiful. Restrained. Graceful.

This… was different. You weren’t fighting these soldiers. You were slaughtering them.

None could withstand your attacks, cutting through people, a sea of blood. Not a single person there could hit you. You were untouchable.

Natasha looks at you, mesmerised. Within moments, only the two guards and the boss remain.

“Don’t come closer, or I’ll blow her brains out!” One of the guards commans, his trembling gun pressed against Wanda’s head.

You barely glance at him. With a flick of your wrist, both the guards are embedded with one dagger each.

The guard who threatened to shoot got the red one. He crumpled to his knees, screaming.

Natasha watched in horror as the skin that made contact around the dagger began to burn, charring and glowing red. The guard screamed as his insides turned molten, until his charred corpse remained.

The boss stood frozen, hands clenched as he stared at you.

“There’s no way out for me, is there?” He asks softly.

You say nothing.

He lets out a scream and goes to punch you. You casually dodge to the left, summon the serpent dagger, and slice his hand off.

He falls to his knees, unable to scream as blood fills his lungs.

You kneel towards your girlfriends, giving them a visual once over.

“Y/n-“ Natasha croaks.

You shush her, cupping her face gently and placing a soft forehead kiss.

“You’re safe. I’ll have Ae transport you to my place.” You whisper.

Natasha shakes her head weakly. “Compound”, she breathes.

Your jaw clenches, but you agree nonetheless.

A few moments later, a pod crashes through the ceiling, and Ae comes out, two stretchers hovering behind her.

You pick Wanda up effortlessly and rest her on one stretcher, giving Natasha the same treatment.

Natasha vaguely hears you tell Ae of their injuries and to take them to the avenger’s compound.

“Will you be joining us?” Ae asks softly.

You shake your head. “I left one alive. The piece of shit that did this to them. Once I take care of him, I’ll meet you at the compound.”

You watch the pod launch out of the facility and into the sky.

You take a deep breath and walk towards the only other soul left alive.

X—X—X—X—X

You walk outside, seeing Clint and the car outside the gate.

“Holy Shit, dude. You look like someone from a horror movie.” Clint exclaims, leaning against the car.

You snort. “Wanda and Natasha are safe. Everyone else is dead.”

He nods. “I figured when I saw the rocket take off.”

The two of you wait a few minutes before a jet similar to Stark's Quinjet lands on the ground.

The hangar door opens to reveal a bored Ennui.

“Couldn’t have picked a warmer place?” They ask

You shrug, grab your cloak and head into the jet.

You bring out the larger bow as the jet begins to get higher, the hangar door still open.

“What does that one do?” Clint asks as he watches you string the bow.

The moment you string it, the air feels uncomfortable. Clint could feel the core of his soul vibrate.

“This one,” you say, gesturing to the bow in hand, “I call the Pinak. Named after Shiva’s bow, one that was known to level cities with a single arrow.”

Clint watched as you drew the bow, a glowing white arrow formed, your fingers and cheek that were near the arrow began to sizzle.

“They shouldn’t have hurt them.” You say softly, and let the arrow fly.

Clint leaned forward to see the arrow land on the facility; a bright light nearly blinded him before the shockwave shook the jet.

“Jesus Christ, will you calm the fuck down!” Ennui snaps, stabilising the jet.

Clint watches as the entire facility and nearby forest are completely razed. The ground crumbles within itself, creating a giant pit the size of a small town.

You close the hangar door and rest against the seat.

They were safe. And what’s more. You could admit it. You could finally admit it. Soul bond be damned.

You were in love.

You were in love with Wanda and Natasha.

X—X—X—X—X

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT I NEED THE VALIDATION AND REVIERS

[meldelen]

I know I'm not saying anything new here, but I wanted to express how Adar as character is one of the most brilliant contributions to Tolkien's lore introduced by The Rings of Power. Not just Adar, but the Uruk having an agency as well. Hell, I'll not be able to call them orcs after this. They will be remain as the Uruk in my mind, with all that using that word implies.

And yet, I couldn't avoid to miss Joseph Mawle in season 2. Don't get me wrong, I love what Sam Hazeldine has given to the character, this edge of fury, of righteous wrath he unfolds in the second season, the way he takes action in his hands for his and his children's sake. His strategic mindset as well, the cleverness he plots with to achieve an agreement with Galadriel and all that without losing the tenderness he devotes to those who he considers as his own, even if he failed to see the riot coming, or was too occupied to see it come.

But, I don't know, Mawle had this air, this tragic melancholy in a character that is already tragedy embodied. He looked sadder, more exhausted, the wounds and marks he was carrying more notorious in his way of moving, and talking, as if every movement caused him pain; gods he was mesmerizing. I wonder how the scene with Nenya would've looked on him.

Then I see Hazeldine again and I concur he was the perfect cast for what Adar's role required in season 2. They both gave a slightly different take on the character without the character seeming changed or butchered - as it happened, for example, with the recast of Daario Naharis in Game of Thrones, or at least it's how it felt to me - and I'm glad his role was expanded to season 2 by Simon Tolkien's advice, one of the best decisions ever taken in this show. Definitely a mark that will remain, for he had started a redemption arc that, sadly, never got to touch, which makes the loss even more painful.

And the final, tragic note of being aware that the Uruk have signed their doom by assassinating the only one that cared for them, even if he sacrificed them when needed, to bind themselves to a brutal, merciless master who despises their kin, sees them as nothing but workforce and slaves, and whose only reward to them will be letting them to sack, raze and destroy. One might say they deserve what they have ahead. They set their future on fire and rubricated themselves as an irredeemable race, thus circling back to the point we find them in Tolkien's lore.

[blackflash9]

While I appreciate and admire Haytham Kenway as a character, his actions have caused long-term, irreparable damage to the perception of the Assassins within the community, tainting their intentions, goals, and the overall messaging of their eternal war with the Templars.

(And I certainly intend to eventually break down how the Colonial Rite in AC3 is NOT what it appears to be...)

But back to Haytham:

It's crucial to highlight that a majority of Haytham's arguments are fundamentally fatalistic at best and utterly cynical at worst. Unlike the other paranoid and obsessive members of his order, Haytham represents another reason the Templars have endured for so long.

Just as George Washington, Sam Adams, and the rest of the Founding Fathers symbolized a prelude to America's two-faced nature in both domestic and (eventually) global affairs, Haytham and his rite also served as a precursor to a lot of the tactics and machinations that future power-seeking populists in the nation would use to prey on people's misfortunes and desires for profit or manipulation. ['Public Execution' Transcript]

Thomas Hickey: "How should I know? The Templars. Lee. The big man, Haytham. They 'as the money. They 'as the power. That's the reason I threw in with 'em. That's the ONLY reason. Sure, they 'ave some sort of vision, for the future too. I didn't give a damn about any of that. They can sing their songs about mankind and its troubles. They can make their plans and spring their traps, don't bother me none. They paid me so I said yes. Didn't bother to ask who or how or why. Didn't care." What is more: He is a complete hypocrite. Within the same rooftop scene, Haytham notably criticizes the Founding Fathers for using evasive rhetoric and "pretty words," yet are the Templars also not guilty of the same, only more effectively? He proclaims to not "feign affection," but does exactly that in a fruitless final attempt to sway Connor with the reveal of Washington burning his village.

(And that's not even getting into his other morally reprehensive acts.)

It is evidently clear that the narrative subtly indicates that Haytham is in the wrong, but due to his portrayal being that of a slightly charming figure, his authoritarian nature and fascist tendencies are swept under the surface with him being often falsely perceived as a sort of moral paragon or righteous figure in the eyes of many.

And It concerns me how people unironically fall for this rhetoric. For a brief moment, we see Haytham's "mask" slip completely when he nearly chokes Connor to death while monologuing revealing his most veritable self as this utterly sadistic and unhinged Templar like we've seen in the series up until that point. At the core: Haytham is less of a representative of Templar righteousness as he completely embodies the sheer allure and convincing nature of the Templar philosophy, highlighting its appeal to many despite its fundamental flaws.

[ada7201]

Assassin Sae au? Assassin Sae x reader? The reader is a sweet girl who is living a normal life. However, there is someone who hates the reader for some stupid reasons. The person is quite wealthy so they pay Sae to kill the reader. Sae changes his identity, so he can get close to the reader. However, the cold and uncaring assassin falls in love with the reader madly. He can't and would never hurt the reader. The thought of killing the reader hurts his heart very much. He doesn't care about the money or his job anymore. The reader is now his everything. Instead of killing the reader, he killed the person who paid him to kill the reader.

here you go, sorry it’s a little short and the ending is slightly rushed. I haven’t had a lot of motivation to write but i wanted to finish this one.

im finishing up a few more requests, but don’t forget to ask for anything you want me to write!!

just for the mission! sae x female reader

it all started with some rich girl’s maid calling Sae and asking a bunch of questions. what is this, some sort of interrogation? Sae sighed in annoyance.

“you want me to assasinate her? sure, okay. what?’s her name?” he’d ask, voice painfully monotone.

“l/n y/n. she goes to ___ university, and she’s the top of her class.” the maid spoke gently into the phone.

“alright.”

after a few more minutes of the maid telling Sae information about you, he finally hung up.

alright, this was going to be pretty simple.

all he had to do was change his name, enroll into your university, threaten a few people, get put into your class, conveniently being sat right next to you, and oh, yeah he likes that show too!

oh, what is his favorite character?

“um, i like them all…” he’d say, sharp teal eyes flicking over to your figure.

“l/n, Hitoshi! pay attention!” the professor would shout, eyebrows furrowed angrily.

you nodded furiously, straightening your posture as the teacher called you out. you really couldn’t fail this course!

when the class ended, Sae had approached you. he smoothly started a conversation, adding a few sweet compliments here and there.

“so, you like that character too?” Sae would ask, slim fingers reaching out to gently tug at the keychain hung on your laptop case.

you smile happily, thinking of your favorite character. they’re just so cool!

“yeah!” you respond, turning over to Sae.

the next day, you didn’t come to class. great, now it would take longer for him to kill you.

“i’m so sorry i’m late, miss!” you say, bursting through the doors of the classroom, and interrupting her speech about “paying attention in class”

“l/n!” your teacher’s voice is surprised, her eyes widening at the way you ran back to your seat.

she simply sighed, she was getting too old for this job.

the class went by normally, apart from the fact there was a new character next to you.

“l/n.” Sae would whisper, leaning slightly closer to you.

he turned his head to you, only to be met with your sleeping face. how were you the top of the class when all you did was sleep?

it was so hard being this Hitoshi Sam person.

and just like that, class had ended again.

has he gotten closer to you? no.

“l/n!” Sae’s voice was loud as he called out for you, jogging slightly as he tried to catch up with you.

no reply.

“l/n!” he’d repeat, getting a bit closer to your walking form.

you were in your way home, listening to your favourite music through your headphones with a sweet smile tugging at your lips.

you’d softly hum to the tune, gasping when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“l/n!” Sae says, pulling your headphones off of your ears.

“ah! Hitoshi!” your e/c eyes widen at Sae’s sudden appearance, your body flinching slightly. “hello!”

“hello. it sure took you a while to respond.” Sae would chuckle. “where are you heading?”

“home.” you respond, chuckling with Sae at his remark. “you wanna come over?”

perfect!

the two of you reached your apartment, the door opening with a quiet creak.

Sae’s eyes scanned the area, eyes narrowing at the large windows.

“you like it?” you’d ask, closing the door to your apartment and locking it.

“yeah, it’s really nice.” Sae would respond.

(“and way too open.”) was what he wanted to add.

“anyways, do you want any food?” you say, making your way to the kitchen after taking off your shoes.

Sae sighed, if he was going to kill you he might aswell do it with a full stomach.

“sure.” he’d shrug, before taking his shoes off and following after you.

“what would you like?”

“um…”

Sae had to be honest, you had almost nothing in your fridge. how were you even surviving like that?

“sorry, i don’t have much. the student life is pre-tty hard, you know?” you joke, turning back to look at Sae

he chuckled in response.

after an hour or two of you both chatting and playing a few games, Sae realised that he had to get this done.

“it’s getting a bit late,” he’d say, standing up.

“oh, you’re right! sorry for keeping you.” you’d apologise, smiling sheepishly as you stood up with him.

“it’s alright, i’m not planning to leave yet.” he smiles in response. “hey, do you have a room with less windows? the lights from outside are actually a little blinding.” he’d lie, looking over to you.

“oh, yeah, i do! my room.” you say cheerfully, feeling slightly happy that Sae won’t be going just yet.

Sae followed after you and into your room, and of course, you had a large window in there too.

guess he’d have to do the job somewhere else.

the rest of the evening went by pretty fast, and Sae had actually … enjoyed it?

“okay, bye! be safe!” you wave Sae goodbye, smiling sweetly before closing the door.

after that, Sae had attempted many times to bring you different places that are easier to finally finish his job, but none of them ever worked out.

he only ended up liking you more.

“so, y/n.” Sae would say, draping his arms over the back of your couch. “would you… wanna go watch a movie sometime?” he asked, a faint blush on his cheeks.

you both went out on dates, and soon a year went by.

Sae still hadn’t killed you.

even if he could, he wouldn’t.

you were just too sweet.

“y/n.” Sae would start, eyes drifting up to yours as he stood in front of you.

“yes?” you smile.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he’d ask.

he knew it was the right time to ask, since the mission had just been cancelled - probably because he couldn’t finish it - and he had realised that he actually…

liked you.

it’s not like he could help it, anyone would like you!

you’re pretty, sweet, and funny - the thought of hurting you makes him physically sick.

it hurts him that the only reason he got close to you was because he was gonna kill you - how could he do that?

“really?!” you beam, cutting off Sae’s thoughts.

he nodded.

“yes!!”

“yes?”

“yeah, i’ll be your girlfriend!”

[braveclementine]

Chapter 3

Warnings: None. (Will however be a 18+ reader book)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

"Seriously, where were you?" Your sister demanded, arms crossed, looking down at your slumped frame against the door.

"It's a long story. Like a long, long story." You muttered, getting your feet, trudging past your younger sister to get to the kitchen, "What's for dinner?"

"I thought you came home from work early?" Y/S/N scrutinized.

You sighed. "I did. Then I went for a week. I mean a walk. And I met my soulmates."

"All of them?" Y/S/N asked incredulously.

You nodded.

"So why are you so glum? Was it to painful hearing all of their names at once?"

"Am I glum?" You questioned in surprise. "I'm not unhappy. . . just surprised and a little overwhelmed."

"Do you like them?" Y/S/N asked.

"Oh yeah, they're great." You responded, trying to figure out how you would categorize them. "Everyone likes them."

"Who are they?"

"The Avengers."

Silence.

She snorted, "Y/N-"

You sighed, holding your arm out. "Spider-Man dropped me off."

Silence again.

"How much do they know about you?" She asked.

"Nothing. And I know nothing about them."

"Oh, well I got a song that could help with that. It's called We didn't start the fire. It's a lovely little song, lets you know small tidbits about the superheroes."

"Ah." You muttered.

"So, who all did you get?"

She sat down across from you, taking your arm into her hands. "Oh my God Thor? Lucky bitch. Oh my God and Tony Stark and the King of Wakanda and Steve Rogers? Oh, but you got Loki and Bucky though."

"They're not that bad." You said with a frown. "Loki was actually very. . . sweet."

"He tried to take over Earth."

"Minor character flaw?"

"And Bucky is a trained assassin!"

"Because HYDRA messed with his brain." You pointed out. "Not him himself."

"Mm, fair enough. Are you sure you'll be okay around them though?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You felt your feathers being ruffled slightly as your younger sister had a go at some of your soulmates.

"I'm just saying, some of them are dangerous. And they work in a dangerous line of business. If the wrong people found out that you were half- probably more than half- of the Avengers soulmates, you could be a target!"

"It's not like I have a choice!" You snapped. "They're my soulmates and that's that. I can't change it. I can't just walk away from it. Alright? I would give anything to be normal and have just one, maybe two soulmates. You know I've always covered these up. You know I've never wanted an entire freaking orgy of soulmates!"

"Alright, chill girl." Y/S/N said. "I'm just saying, you're going to have to be prepared. It's not everyday you find out your soulmate is the King of Wakanda."

"Right." You murmured.

"And for dinner, Y/S/BF/N (Your sister's boyfriend's name) and I are going out for dinner." your sister finished. "You're welcome to join us, of course."

Though they were married, she wasn't quite eighteen yet and wasn't allowed to move in with him until she turned of age. However, if soulmates found their mate before eighteen they were allowed to get married at the earliest age of sixteen. However, they had to be eighteen to live together.

And the reason that we weren't with our parents was because. . . well that's a whole other story.

"I'll cook." You yawned, not even sure if you were hungry.

"Alright." She said, dancing out of her chair and heading for the front hallway, "See you when I get home."

The door closed behind her.

You sighed, getting out of your chair to pad into the kitchen. Opening the cupboards and refrigerator, you went easy on yourself and threw together a small meal of Y/F/F.

*Meanwhile at the Avengers Compound*

Tony, Stephen, Thor, Loki, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Clint, T'Challa, Rhodey, and Fury all sat in a large living room like room.

"I can't believe we all have the same soulmate." Rhodey sighed. He was very simple, liked everything simple. He would've been pleased to have a soulmate that was with him and him alone. He'd always liked having only one band. Just the two of them and a family. Well, now things were just slightly- a lot- complicated.

Tony rested his chin on Stephen's shoulder, "I'm not sure why you're surprised. We've all seen each other's wrists everyday. We all knew we'd have the same soulmate. The colours always changed at the same time and everything."

"We'll have to keep an eye on her." Fury said, always in survival mode. "Make sure that she's a safe person to have around, and make sure that she's never in danger."

"You worry to much." Clint said.

"Why don't we just invite her into the tower?" Steve asked. "We have plenty of rooms upstairs."

"We did just meet her. . . six hours ago." Loki deadpanned. "I doubt she'll be highly receptive to move in so early."

"I'm already planning weddings in my head." Thor announced happily, munching on a pop tart.

Loki groaned, putting his head in his hand. "To fast, much to fast."

"We could all just spend some one-on-one time with her, or as groups." T'Challa suggested. "Stephen and Tony. The three of you. Thor and Loki. Clint and Rhodey. Fury and I. That way we're not overwhelming her with to many people that she needs to get to know. And we can also get to know her better than if all twelve of us tried to get to know her at the same time."

"That's a good idea." Sam said, shrugging.

"I'm more worried about your guys wedding." A new voice said from the doorway. Dr. Banner stood, leaning in the doorway.

"Come again?" Rhodey asked.

Bruce sighed, walking forward, folding his glasses up to stick in his pocket, "For example, Nat and I. When we got married, she got a bit of my hulk strength and in return, I got some of her flexibility. We have two gods, two super soldiers, and one immortal here. I don't know how exactly that'll work on her body. Not to mention, the fact that Fury is bonded to Agent Hill means that she will get something from Agent Hill as well, even though they're not bonded. Like how Fury got a trait from Coulson even though they aren't bonded, because Coulson and Hill are bonded."

"Is there even a way to make sure she doesn't get our more. . . dangerous traits?" Bucky asked quietly, his metal hand clenching into a fist.

"It's random." Bruce said with a shake of his head. "You'll just have to wish luck. It's not like you can put it off, you know. You have one year to court her and a second year to get the wedding together. Especially since she's over the age of eighteen."

"This is exhausting." Rhodey grumbled.

"I also agree with Steve." Bruce continued, putting his hands into his pockets, "It would be much safer for her to move into the Compound or the Tower, whichever you guys feel you'd rather live at."

"Let's invite her over tomorrow!" Tony said enthusiastically, practically bouncing up and down where he sat. Stephen flicked his ear lightly. "Knock it off."

"I say we go with T'Challa's idea." Stephen said simply. "Start with one of the groups tomorrow."

"Yeah, she takes the taxi to work so I could drive her." Tony said enthusiastically.

Rhodey groaned, "I don't even want to know how you know she takes the taxi to work."

"Well, it is New York." Sam pointed out. "Almost everyone takes Taxis or subways. It's a pain to try and drive your own car."

"Yes! Stephen and I will drive her tomorrow!" Tony said, bouncing again.

Bruce cleared his throat as Stephen flicked Tony's ear again, "You should go in reverse order of meeting her. So Stephen and Loki could take her to work tomorrow."

Everyone stared at Bruce.

"You want me to work with the guy who made me fall for thirty minutes?" Loki questioned.

"Sure." Bruce said with a shrug. "Or it can be Stephen and Fury and then you and Thor. But as she's already spent a bit of time with King T'Challa and Tony, well it's probably a good idea to start with those she barely met. That way you aren't starting off with supposed favoritism."

"That makes sense." Steve said, stroking Bucky's hair.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled." Nick said, getting up out of the chair he'd been sitting in. "See you at the next meeting. Don't die."

"Cheerful." Clint muttered before moving away to probably go and sleep in the vents.

The others dispersed accordingly.

*Next Day*

There was a knock on the door as you put the finishing touches to your makeup, getting ready for work. A white blouse covered about half of your lines, showing about four of them. A knee-length black skirt and your heels were somewhere in the front hallway, only to be put on last minute.

You hurried down the hallway- your sister having already left for school- opening the door which revealed a rather comfortable looking Stephen Strange wearing blue jeans, a red T-shirt, and a black suit jacket you swore probably belonged to Tony. And also a rather uncomfortable looking Loki who was dressed in the same black outfit as yesterday.

"Oh." You said in obvious surprise, not expecting two of your soulmates you'd met for about a minute and twelve seconds standing on your doorstep. "Er- come in."

"Do you normally let strangers into your house?" Loki asked as they stepped inside. You'd headed back down the hallway to put the makeup case away.

"Only charming ones." You called over your shoulder without looking back.

"I like her." Loki snickered.

You blushed as you shoved everything away before shutting off the bathroom.

"Sorry, but I am on my way to work." You said apologetically.

"We know, we're here to take you there." Stephen said with a shrug. "Thought you'd prefer it to spending money on a taxi or a subway ticket."

"Thank you." You said. "Lead the way then."

You shut off the lights in the apartment, wishing it was just slightly cleaner before you met Loki and Stephen back at the front door.

"We spoke as a group last night." Stephen said as the three of you stood in the elevator. "We said we'd take the relationship as slowly as possible within the Government rules, that way we don't overwhelm you."

"Thank you." You answered sincerely. "I didn't expect to meet all eleven of my soulmates on one day. Or expect that they'd all know each other. Or that half of them would have super powers of some sort of well, no offense Mr. Laufeyson, but not entirely human."

"You can call me Loki. No offense taken. I know I'm a God." Loki said with a slight smirk.

You studied him out of the corner of your eye. He was truly a beautiful specimen. No facial hair, his face extremely smooth with a pale complexion. His inky black hair was curly in waves. He carried himself with an air of elegance and self-assurance.

I flicked my eyes to look at the opposite man. He was just as tall, his facial hair giving a very smart appearance. His eyes looked like galaxies, his hair smooth and combed over on his head. He was a bit more relaxed than Loki was, though Loki had relaxed more since the front door.

The car that was waiting in front of the apartment building made you raise an eye. "This is yours?"

"Tonys." Stephen said it like an explanation.

"Of course." You murmured. Loki opened the back door so that the two of you could climb into the back while Stephen climbed into the passenger seat.

"This is Happy." Stephen introduced the two of you.

Happy simply nodded and you gave a smile, settling back into your seat.

"Would you like to come to the Avengers Tower after work?" Loki asked quietly.

You thought about it, "Yes, that sounds nice. Thank you. Are you sure I won't be imposing?"

"Not at all. Steve, Tony, and Clint are all for you moving in yesterday." Stephen chuckled. "Some of us had to convince them that it's a little to soon and that you might get overwhelmed if we asked you to move in with us today."

"Thor is ecstatic." Loki murmured, "He's already planning weddings in his mind. Mind you though, he's been without a soulmate for a thousand and a half years."

"Haven't you as well?" I questioned.

"No, only 1,058 years." Loki said with a smirk. "442 years less."

I chuckled. "I'm surprised though. Would've thought as Gods you would've had several soulmates?"

"For the longest time we didn't even have colours. Of course, that's not uncommon when it comes to Godlings. We usually wait for soulmates for a couple hundred, couple thousand years. And when we do, we are ecstatic."

It was all fascinating and you found yourself at your job far to soon for your liking. You were just slightly disappointed.

Loki took your hand, kissing the back of your knuckles again, "We'll see you after work my Queen."

Stephen had opened your door without you realizing and you quickly stepped out, making Jessie crash into Katherine as she stopped on the sidewalk.

Stephen placed a kiss on your forehead. "See you after work."

Forward, but it was to sweet to be weird. You were getting butterflies and starting to wonder if you really wanted to wait two years to get married.

"Y/N!" Katherine screeched, making you jump as the expensive car drove off. "Some explaining to do!"

"At lunch." You hissed. "Come on, we have work."

Katherine, Jessie, and Stacy were incredibly impatient as they waited for their lunch break to come. Once it did, they practically dragged you from the office so that the four of you could sit yourselves down at Big Boys, deciding to do the buffet as lunch.

You decided on breakfast for lunch, putting a few pancakes, sausage links, bacon, eggs, and cinnamon rolls along with apple/orange/grape juice as a drink.

"Explain, explain!" Jessie said.

"Shh." You hissed, rolling up your sleeve, "Stay quiet, it's supposed to be a secret."

Jessie, Stacy, and Katherine leaned over your arm to see what was there. They were the few along with your sister that knew how many soulmates that you had. Their mouths just kept dropping farther and farther until Katherine squealed, "OMG THEY'RE ALL THE AVENGERS!"

Stacy and you tackled her to get her to shut up. "SHH!" You both hissed, getting stares from the others around, though they didn't seem to really care about what you were talking about.

"Yeesh." You whined, leaning back in your seat. "I don't know if I'm lucky or cursed."

"Lucky." The other three answered.

"Seriously, you'll be one of the safest people in the city." Katherine said, eyes big as saucers as she rubbed the silver mark of her unknown soulmate.

"Unless someone from HYDRA was here and overheard your big mouth." Jessie teased Katherine.

"Yeah right." Stacy said rolling her eyes. "I'd like to see a big hulking HYDRA agent in a Big Boys."

You all laughed at the ludicrousness of the comment. After you finished lunch, you went back to work, completely unaware of the watchful eyes on your back.

⬅️➡️

[sjsmith56]

A Better Choice

Summary: AU one shot. The Avengers are matched with charities to help increase donations over the Christmas season but no one seems to want to be associated with Bucky, until the PR person finds an organization willing to work with him.

Length: 3.6 K

Characters: Bucky, Amanda (PR person, not described), cameos by Sam, Steve, Natasha, Tony, Wanda and Alpine.

Warnings: Tony is flippant, Amanda thoughtlessly offends Bucky, references to Bucky’s past as Winter Soldier and assassin, Bucky feeling isolated and unliked.

Author notes: In this alternate universe Thanos was defeated in Wakanda. Bucky was brought into the Avengers after being part of that battle. Tony forgave him for killing his parents after being shown proof of the torture that turned Bucky into the Winter Soldier and they are civil with each other, although still not quite comfortable together. Steve still handed the shield to Sam, wanting to step back as he and Natasha became a couple. Vision wasn’t killed, as the Mind Stone was successfully removed and destroyed. This all takes place within a couple of months, ending on December 22, 2018. Slightly Christmas themed.

🍂 🐈 🎄

It had been a warm fall, one that the older folks often called Indian summer. Usually only a week or so in length this month-long session of warm hazy days and crisp nights made the October foliage glow in the sun’s rays, lulling people into believing that it would be a mild winter. In New York’s Union Square Park many people took advantage of the weather by flocking to the grassy areas exercising, visiting, napping, and even enjoying some romantic times with their loved ones. As Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes strolled through the crowded park the current Captain America grinned at the number of people using the beautiful day to be physically affectionate in public.

“To be young again and not care if people see you making out,” he grinned as they passed another couple with their lips locked together. “Those were the days.”

Bucky glanced at the latest people to catch Sam’s attention and grunted in response. “They would have been arrested for public indecency in my day,” he noted. Sam’s reaction to that statement prompted him to make a disclaimer. “I’m not saying it’s unacceptable in this day and age but seriously, some of them take it too far. Like they need to get a room or something.”

“Sure, Grandpa,” joked Sam, then he stopped and pointed towards the object of their search. “You want to tell them?”

Not even 20 feet away from the sidewalk a blond man and red-headed woman were pushing the boundaries of what Bucky referred to as public indecency. Approaching the pair, the two men waited, not saying anything until the woman smiled mid-kiss.

“I think we’ve been found,” she mumbled, then opened her eyes and looked up at the two men whose shadow crossed over them. “Yup, Steve, we’re busted.”

The former Captain America pulled away from Natasha Romanoff and looked up at a smiling Sam and scowling Bucky. Grinning at them both he leaned back, seemingly not bothered at being found in this position.

“Guys.” He greeted them with a small salute. “What’s up?”

“Seriously?” asked Bucky. “We’ve been calling both of you for almost an hour. You couldn’t take the call or text us back?”

“We were busy,” replied Steve. “You’re only young once. Why do you look like the assistant principal did when he caught you and Moira McGuire in the sports equipment room?”

“Okay, first of all he didn’t catch us in the room, he caught us coming out of it,” replied Bucky, exasperated. “Secondly, it was the janitor’s closet, not the sports equipment room and he only heard us because I knocked the mop down. He asked who was in there and we came out.”

Steve began to chuckle then leaned towards Natasha. “He knocked the mop down because Moira touched him in a special place.”

“Steve!”

Bucky glared at him, making the other three laugh. In a huff he turned around and walked away, leaving Sam to deal with them. Offering his hands to help them up Sam waited until they were standing.

“We have a meeting,” he said. “Something the PR people want us to do as the Christmas season descends upon us. Sunshine over there doesn’t want any part of it.”

“What is it exactly?” asked Natasha, holding hands with Steve.

“Don’t know but he already doesn’t want to do it.”

“Oh my god, it’s both Captain Americas and Black Widow!” exclaimed someone.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by fans, clamouring for autographs and selfies. Bucky watched with an impassive face from a distance. Despite him being pardoned and accepted as an Avenger he rarely received public acknowledgement. Natasha always said his resting bitch face kept him isolated from the public. He never disagreed with that assessment. While he waited his cell phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his jacket.

Tony: Cap2 isn’t answering his phone. Have you found Stasha?

Bucky: Yes, in Union Square Park. Right now, they’re dealing with fans. 🙄

Tony: Meeting is in half an hour. Can you hurry them up?

Bucky: 🤷🏻‍♂️ I’ll try.

With a sigh he advanced towards the small crowd around the other three.

“Tony wants you guys to move it,” he announced. “Meeting is in half an hour.”

Steve looked at him as if that wasn’t going to be possible. With a shake of his head Bucky began walking back to the Avengers Tower, leaving them to make their own way. Striding back the short distance he entered the tower, nodding at the security guards on the main floor.

“Mr. Stark is looking for Captain Rogers and Miss Romanoff,” said one of them.

“Found them, told them to get here,” he replied, as he walked past the desk to the elevator.

While he waited for the elevator, he heard laughter behind him and watched as Steve, Natasha and Sam entered the building. Steve looked towards him as the doors opened.

“Hold the elevator,” he asked, as they came past the security desk. He waited for Natasha to enter before him. “Made it. You could have waited at the park. It didn’t take that long.”

“No point to me being there,” replied Bucky. “No one wants my autograph.”

He looked up at the display while the elevator sped up to the common room at the penthouse level. As they walked into the space it was obvious everyone was waiting for them as everyone was already there.

“At last,” announced Tony. “Thank you for coming as quickly as you could.”

He looked directly at Bucky as he spoke, as if it was his fault the others were late. Biting his tongue Bucky sat on the couch beside Wanda, resting his hands between his long legs. Fixing his gaze on the coffee table he didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Wanda gently touched his arm, and he heard her voice in his head. Having been part of HYDRA herself she could empathize with his feelings.

“We know you’re not responsible for them,” she thought. “Tony isn’t sure what the meeting is about, and he doesn’t like being out of the loop.”

Turning towards her Bucky raised his eyebrows, but Wanda just smiled kindly at him, then nodded towards where a strange woman was standing.

“Who is she?” asked Bucky, still connected telepathically.

“Avengers PR, I think,” replied Wanda. “She’s pretty closed off due to fear. I can’t read her.”

“Everybody I want to introduce Amanda Weston,” announced Tony. “Amanda is with the PR department for the Avengers, and it appears they have arranged something for us to take part in.”

With a flourish he turned the floor over to her and she stood in front of the group trying to appear confident.

“As you know the reputation of the Avengers took a hit after Agent Romanoff released the HYDRA files as it also showed SHIELD’s dirty laundry to the public,” she began. “You regained some of that reputation after defeating Thanos. However, there is still a way to go before the public is back to the levels of support seen before the capture and rehabilitation of Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky felt his cheeks burn at her referencing him, as if he was the reason behind the drop in support for the organization.

“I thought we weren’t going to be referring to the inclusion of Bucky into the Avengers in that way,” stated Steve, his eyes focused on the woman. “He is officially the longest serving PoW in history and that was confirmed at his hearing where he was provided compensation for the criminal way in which he was kept prisoner due to the collusion of high-ranking government and military officials as well as receiving a complete pardon. You make it sound like he didn’t deserve to have the life that was denied him.”

Amanda looked a little flustered, glancing at Tony for support but he let her dig herself a deeper hole.

“Of course, you’re correct,” she stammered, then looked at Bucky. “My apologies, Sergeant Barnes, for not being more supportive about your rescue. By all accounts you are a valued member of the Avengers who has shown his bravery several times since you were welcomed into the organization.” He said nothing, still feeling exposed to the judgement of others. “It’s been suggested that it would help the Avengers if the team members became involved with some charitable organizations, especially with the holiday season approaching.”

“We already have charities we’re involved with,” stated Tony, looking defensive as he stood with his arms crossed. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“Most of the current involvement has involved either monetary donations, or low-key support at charity galas and the like,” said Amanda. “We would like to see something more active and visible.” She had a stack of folders in her arms, with people’s names on them, and distributed them. “I’ve taken the liberty of matching you up with charities that have already expressed an interest in pairing up with certain individuals. You would spend time with the organization, doing actual work, as outlined in the folders. We would send a photographer or a film crew to document your time with them, then they would use that in their holiday season publicity to help solicit donations.”

“How long are we doing this for?” asked Steve.

“Just until the new year,” she replied. “Although if you enjoyed it and wanted to maintain the relationship that would be entirely up to you.”

Bucky looked at her, as there was no folder given to him. “What about me?”

“Ah, yes,” she stammered again. “Unfortunately, we were unable to match a charity with you. I’m still working on finding you one.”

With a scowl he stood up. “Let me know when you finally bribe a charity to allow me to be associated with it.”

As he stormed out of the meeting, she tried to call to him and apologize, but he was already gone.

“I’m sorry, I really did try,” she said to everyone else. “Christmas season is when a lot of these charities get a majority of their fundraising done and they really want someone who seems… more in tune with the holidays.”

“You know that he feels isolated by people’s prejudices about him, right?” noted Natasha, her tone a little hard. “Doing this without making him feel included just feeds that isolation.”

The woman spread her hands in resignation, not sure what else she could have done. She had only been with the Avengers PR team for a few weeks and was disappointed with herself that she had already managed to offend not just Barnes but other members of the organization. It hadn’t been her intention at all, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Over the next few weeks, Amanda scoured the internet for more charities, trying to find one that would be willing to have Bucky Barnes as their Christmas helper. It seemed like they were keen on having an Avenger, until they heard it was him. Then they backed away, unwilling to be associated with him. Just as she was about to give up any hope of finding the right fit, she received an email, asking if the offer still stood. The charity in question had another celebrity lined up but their first session with them didn’t go so well and the person decided to cancel the agreement.

At first, Amanda was going to forward the email then second guessed that approach and printed out the email from the organization. Stepping out of her office she took the elevator up to the residential floors of the Avengers Tower to look for Barnes. When she didn’t find him in his apartment or in the common area, she asked Friday for help in locating him, learning he was working out in the gym. Heading to that floor she entered the gym, finding him alone, running on the treadmill in just a pair of shorts and runners; music blaring so loud that he didn’t hear her enter. Words didn’t do justice to the sight of Sergeant Bucky Barnes, shirtless, and for a moment she forgot why she was there, as she stared at the man. Then he noticed her and stopped running, glaring at her as he grabbed a towel and draped it over his shoulders, covering up the sight of his broad and muscular build.

“Friday, lower volume,” he barked, then looked at her. “What?”

Hesitantly, she approached him. “I found a charity for you,” she said, holding out the printout. “The celebrity they lined up cancelled and they want you to help them out.”

He smirked, before taking the sheet from her. “So, they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel, huh?”

“Please, don’t say that,” pleaded Amanda. “I feel terrible about not having something lined up for you at the meeting. I’m so sorry I offended you with how I worded everything. I’m not the most confident person and this is my first PR job. To be honest, I really admire you. After everything you went through to still want to help people is pretty cool.”

He read the printout then looked at her. “There’s no one else? I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

“I think you could do a lot of good with it,” said Amanda. “I mean, you’re all badass and everything. This could really show your softer side and they don’t mind who helps them, right? They don’t know who you are. You’ll just be the human that takes care of them.”

He read the sheet again, then breathed out audibly. “Alright, I’ll do it,” he said. He shrugged. “Thank you for the apology and for not giving up. I know I can seem rude or distant a lot of the time but it’s hard not to be when people think I’m still him.”

She gave him a shy smile. “I’ll check in with you in a couple of weeks to set up the shoot. We’ll make you look good; I promise.”

He smiled back then she turned around and left the gym as he watched her walk away, thinking she was kind of cute. He read the email again and smiled. This might not be so bad.

📺

News segment on local news broadcast, December 22, 2018.

Spotlight on Local Charities

Tonight, we’re visiting the Alley Cat Initiative, a local charity that not only takes care of stray or feral cats and kittens but also helps prepare them for adoption with loving families. The organization, which has been active in the Brooklyn area for the past ten years, found itself the recipient of some extra help this holiday season with the attention of one of the Avengers, known more for his previous occupation. Cassie Evans has the story.

“He’s infamous, and often comes across as menacing and unfriendly. But nothing could be further from the truth when you witness this Avenger with the cats and kittens he helps look after.”

[Scenes are shown of Bucky Barnes, identified by a banner at the bottom of the screen, arriving by motorcycle at the Alley Cat Initiative, a cat shelter in Flatbush.]

“I started with the organization about a month ago,” said Bucky, as several kittens were perched on his shoulders, while he cradled another in his arms. “We were encouraged to work with a charity that needed our help, but no one wanted to be partnered with me. It hurt, you know, because I’m just a guy with a past that I’m trying to make amends for. Then ACI offered me a chance and I’ve been here just about every day since then, minus the days I’ve been on a mission.”

“That’s right, Bucky Barnes, a man who was once one of the world’s most feared assassins, is now happily helping this organization by cleaning litter boxes, hand feeding orphan kittens, and even giving feral cats the first baths of their lives.”

[Scenes are shown of Bucky replacing cat litter, gently feeding a newborn kitten with a milk-filled syringe while cooing to it, patiently brushing out the long hair of another cat, and filling up a sink with warm water before lowering a hissing, spitting cat into it.]

“My metal arm is kind of an advantage when I’m handling feral cats because their teeth and claws don’t hurt me,” smirked Bucky, as he was shown giving a yowling cat their first bath, a necessity to remove fleas from their fur. “Even my right hand, when it gets clawed up, is healed by the next day and I can take the pain, easily. I modulate my voice to be softer and lower, and that helps calm them down. Within a few days they’re accepting my touch better and learning that people can be kind. I’ve even adopted one of them for myself.”

“This pretty kitten, Alpine, named for her snowy fur, and blue eyes, is deaf. Found under a dumpster, she bonded quickly with Barnes at ACI, and he is teaching her to respond to sign language, which surprisingly he is adept in. Adoption fees are assessed on a cost recovery basis, as the organization is non-profit. Any shortfalls have always been covered by donations. Since Barnes became involved with the organization, they have posted images of him working at their shelter in the Flatbush area of Brooklyn on their social media accounts. Those images have become a big hit, generating many likes and increasing interest in adoptions, and donations to the organization.”

[Scenes are shown of Bucky signing to Alpine to stay off a counter, using a cat toy while playing with her, then other images that have been on the organization’s Facebook, Instagram, and X accounts. He is also shown being approached by children, as he shows them how to stroke a cat.]

“They do a lot of good here.” Barnes stroked Alpine, while another cat on the back of the chair he was sitting in bumped its forehead against him. “All of the cats they take in are spayed or neutered, receive all their shots, and get fully assessed before being put for adoption. There are some that are too wild to go into a home so they have set up a sanctuary for them where they can live safely. The sanctuary is one of my favourite places to sit and think about things. The cats trust me and allow me to be there with them. I feel welcome at the Alley Cat Initiative and plan to stay on as a volunteer for as long as they’ll put up with me.”

“The staff at the Alley Cat Initiative are thrilled with Barnes’ dedication to his volunteer role. In fact, he has become one of their more dedicated volunteers and has already garnered Volunteer of the Month status for December. If you are interested in becoming a volunteer with the organization, please contact them by the means shown at the end of this segment. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be working alongside one of the more well-known Avengers. This is Cassie Evans, for WSNY News.”

[The contact email and phone number of the Alley Cat Initiative was shown for about ten seconds.]

🎄

Amanda looked at Bucky, seated next to her with Alpine in his lap, as they sat with the others in the Avengers common room. He looked back at her, then squeezed her hand.

“It was good,” he said. “I’m happy with it.”

“You did good, Buck,” said Steve.

“Never thought you would be a cat lady,” smirked Sam, who ducked when Bucky threw a cat toy at him.

“Well, the whole program did really well,” said Amanda. “Avengers participation seems to have had a positive effect on donations to all the charities. They all tagged us, which generated more hits on our social media accounts, with many positive comments. Thank you for making me look like I knew what I was doing when I proposed it.”

“Alright, enough patting each other on the back,” said Tony, somewhat impatiently. “The staff Christmas party starts in ten minutes. Manchurian Candidate has cat hair all over his suit and needs to take care of that. Amanda Hug and Kiss did a great job and we’re glad to have her working for the Avengers.” Nobody moved and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, we have a party to get to.”

The others stood up and drifted over to the elevator. Amanda stood up but Bucky touched her hand, making her stop. He watched as the others entered the elevator car then he stood up and faced her.

“Thank you,” he said, sincerely. “They ended up being the best fit for me and even though I wasn’t their first choice I think I was their better choice.”

“Well, I think you’re my better choice,” she replied, still holding his hand as she looked up at him. “Are we making our relationship known tonight?”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” he smiled. “But I’m willing if you are. Alpine likes you and she has good taste.”

Leaning over, Bucky brushed his lips over hers then took Alpine back to his apartment, coming back with the hair removal roll. Handing it to Amanda he waited while she ran it over his jacket and pants, then took it from her hands and gave her a better kiss, wrapping his arms around her. They went over to the elevator and waited for the doors to open, then stepped inside. Holding hands when the doors opened on the party floor they stepped out to the sights and sounds of a Christmas party already in full swing. When people noticed they were holding hands they received several acknowledgements via a raised glass. Looking up, Bucky noticed a large sprig of mistletoe above them and chose to honour it by kissing Amanda in a way that would leave no doubt that they were a couple. It was Christmas, he had a girlfriend, and for the first time in a long time, felt like he belonged to something bigger and better than himself.

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[readingnerd9999]

Ok y’all, I just started reading the Throne of Glass series. I started with the Assassins Blade and I am on chapter 5 and I am enjoying it so far. I am loving Celaena’s character and personality, and Sam is slightly growing on me.

There was a lot of mixed opinions on what book to start with but I just decided to start with Assassins blade because life is too short to be worrying about that.

But anyways I got the series for Christmas and I am going in blind so please PLEASE don’t give me any spoilers. I will give updates and opinion’s as I go through the series.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Underfell Sans & Papyrus character sheets (Updated version)

RED (Underfell Sans)

Backstory : Red survived all along with his little brother in the streets after his father got assassinated by some rivals. Times were hard, and that fragilized the relationship between the brothers, Red being the careful one and Edge trying to rebel against anything he said, and even engaging in the Royal Guard to prove him he had no control on him and wasn't his dad. After that, their life got slightly easier, but their relationship became bitter. Constantly bickering, constantly having to hide to avoid Edge's rivals to see him as a weakness, being force to consider his brother like his boss. Red lost hope of things even getting better, until a smal child fell and made him realize his brother actually still cared for him. Once the Barrier broken, they tried to live together for a while, but that didn't work, as they both fell into their old habits. Choosing to live separate was actually their best decision as they since slowly learned to get along again, and they're trying to fix the mistakes of the past. It's still hard, there are periods where they can'tbear each other, but it's way better than what it used to be.

Personality : Apprehensive - Inappropriate - Charming - Competitive - Uncoopérative - Cynical - Defiant - Difficult - Disrespectful - Fair - Faithful - Fiery - Fierce - Finicky - Flirtatious - Frank - Harsh - Impatient - Impolite - Impulsive - Very dependant - Irritable - Jealous - Jumpy - Lazy - Logical - Loyal - Mean - Moody - Obscene - Opportunist - Perceptive - Picky - Proud - Resentful - Sarcastic - Sassy - Straightforward - Wary - Grouchy

Job : Mechanic engeneer

Hobbies : Working on cars and on his motocycle, watching telenovelas to make fun of the characters, visiting forbidden places, finding new ways to annoy Grillby, pranking his brother or his S/O, bitching on his Karen neighbour.

Loves : Grease food, dinosaurs, hard mechanics, cars, being pet on the head, his brother, sleeping for 48 hours straight, taunting random people in bars to see how they'll react, big dogs, his freedom.

Hates : Doomfanger, his brother, heckin salad and broken glass lasagnas, nightmares, loud noises, people making fun of his inhability to express his feeling, being vulnerable, being nice to his Karen neighbour after he messed up bad, lemons square, being awoken before lunch, people touching his things.

The S/O of his dream : He doesn't think he can ever have a S/O so someone who shows interest and he's completely paralyzed lol. Clearly someone who has an interest in cars though, so he can talk for hours and hours with them.

Dealbreaker : Treating him like an idiot, trying to fix his relationship with his brother, using how he opens up when he trusts you against him as it's really hard for him to show some vulnerability.

Contacts :

Family : Edge

Best friends : UF Grillby - Copper

Close friends : UT Grillby - UF Undyne - UF Alphys - Oak - Pumpkin - Chief - Rus - Wine - Coffee - Sam - Ben - Fang

Friends : Sans - UT Alphys - UT Frisk - Honey - Nugget - Willow - Nox - Rumba - Demon - Killer - Delta

OK/Neutral : UT Undyne - UT Burgerpants - UT Gerson - Sun - Rambo - Salsa - Error

Would better avoid : Papyrus - UT Toriel - UT Asgore - UT Chara - UT Asriel/Flowey - Blue - Moon - Creeper - Ink - Dune

Absolutely hates : UT Mettaton - UT Gaster - UT Muffet - Tango - Torpedo

______________________

EDGE (Underfell Papyrus)

Backstory : Edge wanted to be a hero in a world that hated heroes. He learned it the hard way, risking his life stupidly as a kid just because he wanted to prove his brother was wrong to protect him that much. His ultimate defiance? Joining the Royal Guard, despite his brother screaming it was the worst idea ever. It was indeed, but by the time he realized it, he was a Captain, stuck in his role and unable to flee to survive one more day. Stubborn, he refused to show any weakness, forcing Red to follow along even though he never wanted to be the brother of the captain of the Royal Guard. Their relationship became more and more tense, to the point it almost broke. Thanks to Frisk, however, Edge realised how he hurt him these last years, and he's now trying to be better, even if it's not that easy. He's trying, but years of telling himsef he has to be strong and not show any emotion didn't do it any favor. It's better than it used to be, but Edge knows it could never be like it was when they were children. They are too different, they don't have the same objectives. He hopes it can get better one day.

Personality : Active - Allert - Ambitious - Anxious - Argumentative - Arrogant - Athletic - Bold - Calculating - Cheeky - Confident - Critical - Dedicated - Efficient - Fashionable - Fierce - Hardworking - Honest - Creative - Indepenent - Irritable - Kindhearted - LOUD - Moody - Judgemental - Observant - Old-fashioned - Patient - Pessimistic - Polite - Realistic - VERY resentful - Responsible - King of Sass - Snobbish - Strict - Stubborn - Sulky - Trustworthy - Versatile - Protective

Job : Legal consultant, pet shelter volunteer and volunteer cook for aid organizations

Hobbies : Brushing his baby cat, buying new toys to his baby cat, cooking, jogging, fighting with Undyne, bitching on people with Undyne, going to store and embrace the Karen spirit to have free stuff.

Loves : Doomfanger, fighting, cooking, searching for trouble, lasagnas, cats, when people manage to scare him and survive, challenges, dark chocolate, visiting new places, surfing, raging on video games for no reason other than make the other laugh, taunting Undyne and teasing her for her relationship with Alphys, how Frisk sees him as some sort of super-hero.

Hates : Fighting with his brother, Asgore, people abandoning their pets for no valid reason at the shelter, people mistreating animals on the Internet for views, when Doomfanger pees on his bed because he pet another cat, people calling him insensitive, people criticizing his cooking and especially his lasagnas, when Red is trashing the house.

The S/O of his dream : Someone clean, who's not pushing him and who understands he's not being mean on purpose. He's struggling. He likes flirtatious people more than he lets on.

Dealbreaker : Hurting Undyne, Frisk or Red, talking to him like he's an idiot, using his level of violence against him, ignoring him for no reason.

Contacts :

Family : Red - Doomfanger - UF Frisk

Best friends (but would never say it outloud) : Nox - UF Undyne

Close friends : Rus - Wine - Coffee - Copper - Chief - Delta - UF Alphys - UF Grillby

Friends : UT Undyne - UT Frisk - UT Mettaton - Honey - Pumpkin - Rumba - Sam - Ben -

OK/Neutral : UT Alphys - UT Chara - UT Gerson - Oak - Killer - Moon - Sun - Rambo - Salsa - Error

Would better avoid : Sans - Papyrus - UT Toriel - UT Grillby - UT Muffet - UT Asriel/Flowey - Nugget - Dune

Absolutely hates : UT Asgore - UT Gaster - UT Burgerpants - Blue - Willow - Tango - Demon - Creeper - Fang - Torpedo (ESPECIALLY HIM) - Ink

[corkinavoid]

Which of your fics is your favorite? Favorite character/ scene? : 3

Oh, that is a very hard question, I love it, thank you, now be prepared for a long ramble.

My favorite fic as of right now is either 'Married to Winter', which I just completed, or 'Free as the Wind', which will be posted later on weekends (probably). They are both Fantasy AUs that create some absolutely breathtaking visuals in my head, and I love them dearly. The series 'Mercenary Danny' takes second place, and 'You Should Ask Danny' is firmly on the third.

As for the scenes: I have a favorite scene in every fic I write, and usually, that scene is the initial reason for writing the fic in the first place. It's kind of my way of writing: come up with one scene I want to show the readers and then create five more chapters to build up towards that scene lol

But let's do the top 5 of my absolute favorite moments from my fics because I've been waiting to do this!

First place: chapter 6 of 'Married to Winter', with Danny and Tim dancing through the frozen ballroom and Barbara's vision later. It's just- HGSFjYVCvrDGH I don't have enough words to express how much I love it. I adore it. I'm so fucking in love with that scene I want to eat it.

Second place: chapter 2 of 'Coronation', which, coincidentally, also features Danny and Tim ballroom dancing through the night skies. But it's a different vibe, you know? Okay, I may have a thing for Dead Tired ballroom dancing, I admit.

Third place: chapter 5 of 'You Should Ask Danny', where Danny asks Tim if he likes him and Tim gets rightfully mad at him for only noticing it now. They are idiots, your honor. Idiots in love. And their kiss in that chapter is so precious!

Fourth place: the epilogue of 'Neon Green and Cold Blue' (which is not posted yet, sorry, I'm keeping the schedule). Two words: Family Picture. It warms my heart so much I'm planning to make art for it.

Fifth place: specifically the bit with "hakuna your pacifist matatas" from 'I'll Pay You Ten Times'. I know I wrote that bit myself, but it makes me laugh every time I remember it. Just... Danny.

Honorable mentions: Danny forgetting that the assassins are choking to death in 'My Babysitter Will Hear About This', Jazz demanding to know where her brother is from 'Neon Green and Cold Blue' (also not posted yet, sorry), Tucker's "go, George" from 'You Should Ask Danny', Dan and Danny dueling from 'Fiance to a Star' (will be posted tomorrow ;) ), and Tim transcending time on his way to fight Aragon from 'It Takes Three Days to Get Adopted'.

(Also, not from a fic but from one of my posts, Tim introducing himself as 'Damian' to Danny in my Changeling AU series)

Favorite character to write in general: Sam. She is a bitch and I admire her. (Also, Ember, when I get to write her)

Favorite character to see in my fics: Damian. The stabby child with dubious morals, what more could I want?

Favorite character to write the story through: Tim (which is kinda obvious, most of my fics are his PoV). He is the slightly unhinged observer who is the perfect mix of smart and dumb - at least, well, the fanon version of him, I'm not familiar with canon.

Favorite character to write about: Danny. I love writing how other characters perceive him.

Thank you for the ask!!! I was so delighted to answer it!

[imawreck]

Ballroom

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/WinterSoldier x Original Character

Summary: Tony throws an extravagant fundraiser

Warnings: flashbacks, gross men, mild steamy thoughts

Word Count: 5,565

Max-

Bucky let me lead the way to the meeting where we both took a seat at the table, eyeing Tony who sat at the head with a man standing off to his right behind him. Tony didn't look very pleased to be there, but the man looked the exact opposite. I recognized him from the carnival, the man who hid himself so poorly behind the tent. There was something off about him, his face was too familiar to me. No matter how hard I tried to recall him, I just couldn't.

My thoughts were interrupted by Tony, "Due to recent events and the rise in Hydra activity, Shield has sent us a few extra hands to help with security. Specifically for our ex-Hydra friends." Tony nodded in Bucky and I's direction and continued, "This is Agent Rumlow, he will be watching over the two of you when you leave the tower. I know it isn't ideal, but orders are orders and not even I can refuse them."

There was a mutual groan that resonated through the room as all the avengers let their features settle into those of distaste.

I frowned, Bucky and I hardly needed a monitor. We were assassins, the worlds most feared to be exact.

"Anyways, the point of this meeting was to notify you that I will be hosting a fundraiser this evening. All of you should find suitable attire and attend. More information has been sent to you regarding the details. Dismissed." With that, Tony exited the room with Rumlow in tow, who threw me a wink that sent waves of discomfort through me. There was a cacophony of groans, though I wasn't sure it was because of Shield's orders or Tony's love for 'fundraisers'. Perhaps both.

I shook my head, turning towards Bucky next to me. "Does Rumlow look familiar to you?" I found his eyes glued to where the agent in question had just left before they flickered down to my own.

"No, but I'm not a fan of him." There was an underlying tone of what sounded like anger laced through his words, but I decided to ignore it. Shield orders weren't always fun to work with.

I sighed, dragging myself out of the chair and shrugging my shoulders in a stretch. "I think I'm going to head to breakfast if you'd like to join me?" It was a reach, but I had wanted to spend more time with Bucky. I couldn't get enough of him no matter how much of my time was spent in his presence. He was a light, a pillar of comfort and strength, of protection and happiness, that I desperately craved.

Bucky shot me a smile, "Why of course, doll. I wouldn't miss it for the world." He stood from his chair to join me and I was reminded just how large he was. His towering height, several feet taller than my own, caused him to have to bow his neck to look at me. His shoulders filled the doorframe as we exited the room, and despite his size his footsteps were as silent as ever. I was constantly amazed by him.

The two of us enjoyed our breakfast together, talking and laughing. I hadn't realized how long it had been until I tore my eyes from him to peer around the commons room. We were the only ones in the room and the clock read 10:00 A.M. We had been talking for almost three hours. I glanced back at Bucky after I heard his chair scrape against the floor and watched as he walked over and dumped our plates into the sink. Lucky for the both of us, it wasn't our chore day and Sam was doomed instead.

"I think I should go figure out what to wear to this event Tony has planned for us."

This seemed to catch his attention as he turned around to lean himself against the countertop. Bucky seemed to hesitate before he spoke to me. "Have you thought about who you want to go with?"

I shook my head slowly, "No, I just thought I would go and mingle for a bit. Lots of people make me antsy." Bucky nodded at my answer but his shoulders slumped slightly.

"Would you change your mind if someone were to ask you?"

I raised a brow at him, watching as his eyes dropped to his hands as he tried to find something else to look at. "I might, if it's the right person."

At my answer, his turbulent eyes met mine again. "The right person?"

I nodded, picking at my nails to tease him with the silence. "Someone tall, dark, and handsome."

"Sounds like you've already have someone in mind." The smile on Bucky's face grew ever so slightly, "Does this guy got a name?"

The joy flickering in his eyes only spurred me on further. "Oh he has many, and he's the kindest man I know. He can dance too. I would love to dance with him again." I sighed, adding to the drama. "Unfortunately I don't think he will ask me."

Bucky's face was covered in a full blown smirk, his eyes sparkling. "Come on, doll, he'd be a fool not to." He pushed off of the counter and meandered towards me. His feet stopped just in front of me, close enough for my knees to brush against the front of his thighs from where I sat in chair. He leaned his arm against the bar, eyes solely focused on me. I was captivated as he moved his left hand to brush his cold fingers behind my ear, situating a loose strand of hair. "Max," my heart stalled at the softness in his voice, "Would you accompany me to Tony's extravagant fundraiser tonight?"

I could hardly contain myself, trying desperately to find my voice. Once I did, I nodded. "Yes," I breathed, unable to force my voice any louder. Bucky chuckled, dropping a sweet kiss to my forehead. It surprised me in a good way, and I couldn't hide the flush of red that danced across my cheeks. He laughed, the sweetest sound I'd ever heard, and began backpedaling out of the commons room with a smile splitting his face.

"I'll be at your door by 8."

_____

I could hear my heart still  pounding in my ears an hour after he left.

Natasha and Pepper joined me after a quick text filling them in on the recent events. Natasha was practically foaming at the mouth, begging me to tell her the details. Pepper on the other hand respectfully smiled and listened to what I wished to tell them. I really liked Pepper, and it blew my mind that she could put up with Tony like she did.

"That was all that happened, Nat." I finished telling her, watching as her shoulders slumped and her eyes rolled.

"You two are going to be the death of me. Everyone in the tower can practically see the tension between you two. Why don't you just ask him out?"

I shrugged, "We've gone on one date Nat. No matter what other history we have, we hardly know each other enough to date. Plus, I don't think Bucky is comfortable with the thought, the last thing I want to do is run him off."

Pepper hummed in agreement at my side, having joined Nat and I on the bed. "Bucky has a lot of trauma on his plate, he needs someone that is patient with him the way you are."

Her words warmed my heart and I sent a smile her way in thanks. "I'm nervous for tonight." I balled my hands in the sheet below me, "I haven't been to something like this in a while and I don't know if I can remember how to dance. I haven't even looked at the details yet."

Both Natasha and Pepper shared a knowing look, smiles crawling onto their faces. It made me worry, deeply. "What did I miss?"

Natasha shrugged, the smile still plastered on her face. "Oh nothing, just that the event is set in the 40's when your beloved Sergeant was in his prime."

My eyes blew wide as Pepper added with her, "Tony thought since three out of all the Avengers had actually lived during that time that the event might be a little more fun."

My heart stalled, "T-the 40's?"

Suddenly I was thrown back in time, back into a body that was my own in an age I wasn't sure I wanted to remember or not. It was nightfall and the Hydra base I lived in was quiet save for the crickets that chirped under the moonlight. I sat outside the back door, having snuck out into the cold night to escape the screams of the prisoners held inside. It was moments like these that I really resented myself. The guilt of what I have done, what I would continue to do, devoured a part of my soul that could never be recovered. It was 1945, about the middle of October, and a new asset had been captured. I had seen him just once, and the pain and fear in his eyes had nearly killed me. I was a scientist of sorts, smart enough to build capsules to contain super soldiers like the Captain. But I was trained too, one of the best in Hydra. I remember sitting in the snow though, as I remembered his shouts of pain. Begging and begging them to stop.

I was pulled out of my head by a hand on my shoulder and Pepper's gentle voice, "Max?"

I jumped, flinching away from her touch and trying to collect myself from my memory, "Sorry." I didn't know what I was apologizing for exactly but neither of them questioned it. I tried to fight against the waves of panic I was feeling, a result of delving too far into the past. I was worried that Bucky's memory of his time would be as unpleasant as my own. "What do I need to wear?"

Pepper smiled, "I have just the thing."

_____

It was 7:45 by the time the two of them had finished dolling me up. I felt clean and... and pretty. It was a rare feeling, and I was pleasantly shocked by it.

Pepper had slipped me into a simple black and white polka-dotted dress with a shallow V-cut neckline. The material was loose and flowing, only clinging to my skin in the most attractive ways. Cinched waist and a flowing skirt. Natasha had once again lent me a pair of heels. These were much taller than the others but comfortable enough for me to walk without a concern for falling.

I had bought myself a perfume all those months back, when the Super Soldiers and I first ventured out of the tower on our shopping trip. It wasn't frilly or too strong, and I had grabbed it just because I had enjoyed the way it smelled on the woman who I watched spray it on herself a mere few feet in front of me. I didn't like to buy things that were unnecessary.

I sprayed some on myself and finished applying light makeup like I used to in the day. Makeup was the only thing the two women didn't know about in the 40's. I had chosen a dark lipstick, burgundy red, as I was uncomfortable with the signature bright crimson usually worn that would no doubt be on every single woman at the event. I curled my lashes and applied some liner, finishing the look off with some mascara. Natasha had styled my hair in big waves, leaving it down and framing my face. I turned to them once I had finished my evaluation, "How do I look?"

Natasha winked, "Like you'll knock his pants off."

I let out a burst of laughter, blaming the nerves bubbling in my stomach. "Thanks, Nat."

Pepper nodded, shooting me a sincere smile. "You look wonderful."

I returned her smile, "Thank you for helping me. I owe you both."

There was a sharp knock at the door and all three of us shared an equally excited and startled look. Pepper ushered me to the door and the two of them opened it and slipped out, smiling at whoever was on the other side. I heard Natasha's voice echo down the hall, "Keep your hands respectful Barnes, she's breathtaking."

I opened the door wider, finally gathering the courage to glance up at him. His head was still turned as he spoke, "I'm a little early so if you need a few more min- Oh wow." Bucky's bright eyes found mine and his face lit up in surprise. I watched as his eyes took in my dress, all the way down to the glossy heels nervously tapping on the floor. The way he looked at me was soft, like I would disappear if he looked away for a split second. I watched him too, taking in his clean appearance and freshly shaven face. He wore a simple suit, black all the way down to his toes. His hair was pulled back and tied at his neck in a small little ponytail. Definitely not 40's, but fitting nonetheless. He looked absolutely charming. "You look beautiful doll, absolutely beautiful."

I couldn't help but smile, "You clean up great too. I like what you've done with your hair."

He laughed and butterflies erupted in my stomach, "Yeah, someone tied it up for me before and left me the hair tie. I figured I'd put it to good use." He held his arm out for me, "Shall we?"

I didn't hesitate to take his arm in my own, feeling his warmth seep into me from under his sleeve. It didn't take a genius to see that the both of us were nervous. Bucky put on a good face as we made our way towards the event, but the louder it got the more his smile seemed to lessen. I leaned into him the more crowded the halls got as I desperately tried to avoid touching anyone. I ran unnaturally cold, and I feared that if my skin were to touch anyone, they would cause a scene.

Taking note of my efforts, Bucky's arm dropped my own in favor of guiding me in front of him. He used himself as a sort of shield, keeping me in front of him as he gently wove us between bodies. I was grateful for his efforts.

The music that played was upbeat and old, but in a sort of way that almost soothed me. Bucky guided us over to the bar and away from most of the people beginning to sway. Everyone was dressed nicely, their dates smiling and twisting around on the dance floor. I had never learned the dance of the time, too busy with Hydra to have a chance to immerse myself in the norm. I envied them, honestly.

Bucky's low voice brought me out of my thoughts, "Would you like to dance?"

I glanced between him and the people dancing elaborately on the marble floor. "I don't know how to dance like that." I shot him a sheepish smile, "I wasn't exactly free during this period. I hadn't started undercover missions yet."

He seemed to catch my gist, "You weren't allowed out?"

I shook my head, "No, not until later. After everything."

We let a silence settle over us for a few moments. It was deafening. I took a breath, still watching the bodies dance across the floor, before I turned back to him. "Teach me?"

Bucky's turbulent eyes met my own and a small smile pulled itself back onto his face, "Of course." He offered me his palm and I took it gratefully, making our way through the crowd.

Bucky was always so gentle with me. He was gentle in the way he touched me, talked to me. He was gentle in the way he looked at me. It made me feel safe and cared for. A feeling so foreign to me ever since I could recall.

Bucky pulled me in, speaking low in my ear as he coached me through the steps. "You're going to move your feet just like this," he maneuvered his feet quickly to the beat but clearly so I could catch on.

I mimicked his steps albeit a bit clumsier.

He grinned, "Good job, now you just do that every time the beat sounds like that and then I spin you out like this." His flesh hand took my own, carefully spinning me outward before he pulled me back in and engulfed me in his arms.

I laughed, thrilled by the feeling of his body against my own and the sway of our bodies with the music.

"You're a natural, doll."

Bucky moved himself quite gracefully despite his size. It was mind boggling to watch, but pleasant too, seeing him so happy and relaxed. It was almost like he was slipping back into his element. I had heard he was a charmer from the talk around the tower every once and a while, when Steve would tell a story and I happened by. I would always try and listen when I could, enraptured by their time before the war. Steve's stories always sounded so wonderfully normal and untouched by the terrors of war and loss.

We danced wildly until the song changed its rhythm, Bucky swaying us both easily across the beats. I hummed, leaning against him and letting him lead. "Thank you for this. I would have to say it's one of my favorite memories, I'll never forget it."

He chuckled at that, drawing back to look me in the eyes. "You don't have to thank me."

I nodded, "I do actually. You do so much for me, defended me when I first got here and haven't stopped since. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, you know."

A sheepish smile curled upon his lips, and he pressed his warm fingers gently against my spine to pull me closer, "I'll always defend you."

I reached for his face, feeling his smooth skin against my palm. "I know you will. You're a good man, James, the best I've ever known."

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of his name, curling his fingers into the fabric at the back of my dress and pulling me into a bone crushing hug as the song came to an end. He held me there for a moment as we both enjoyed our moment in peace.

Until a cough shattered it.

"Hope I wasn't interrupting something important." Rumlow's low voice reached our ears and Bucky pulled himself away from me, holding me at arm's length. Rumlow stepped forward, "Could I borrow your date for a dance?"

I could practically feel the irritation rolling off of Bucky's stiff shoulders. He seemed to straighten at Rumlow's request, his body broadening as he stood to his full height. I had realized Bucky tended to make himself smaller around me, less threatening in the way his head always bowed or his shoulders caved inwards the slightest bit.

The song that had begun to play was more modern, probably for the guests to rest from the older more elaborate dances. I wouldn't have trouble keeping up with it. I glanced back at Bucky to find his questioning gaze already on me and I gave his left arm a quick squeeze as I stepped away from him. "Sure, just one."

Rumlow's smile grew and I couldn't help but feel a little unsettled by it. Bucky leaned down close enough for me to hear him over the music, "I'll get us some drinks. Just shout if you need me."

I nodded, letting my hand drop from his arm. He walked away, eyeing Rumlow as he left. Rumlow didn't seem fazed by it though, simply holding his hand out to me and pulling me in. "He's a real tough guy, huh?"

I nodded, not exactly thrilled to be dancing with him. "Bucky is complicated."

Rumlow swayed us around, his arms low on my back and drumming his fingers against my spine. "You two seem awfully close."

I raised a brow at him, "Yes, we are friends."

"You seem a lot closer than that." Rumlow tugged my body closer, bringing his face mere inches from my own. "Are you friends with benefits maybe? Surely you could get a man who really wanted to be with you for more than that."

I yanked myself from him, scowling, "We are done here, get lost."

He didn't take the hint, grappling for my arm and trying to pull me back against him. "Come on Sugar, just tell me if you're a free girl or not. I want a chance."

I wrapped my hand around his wrist, squeezing tightly enough to have his face morphing in discomfort. "I. Said. Get lost."

Suddenly there was a wall behind me, warm and secure. Arms knocked away my offenders hands as the mountain of muscle moved in front of me, blocking the man away from view. Bucky's voice was low and dangerous, "Leave." His hands stayed curled into fists at his sides as he stood rigid. Every inch of him screamed violence, yet he held himself together.

Rumlow threw up his hands, a smile still on his face. "Easy man, I was just talking with her. Can't help me for showing interest." His feet carried him backwards, but not before he leaned to the side just enough to meet my eyes and wink at me just as he had done in the meeting. A shiver ran down my spine and another tug of familiarity raced through my mind. Why was he so familiar to me?

Bucky didn't relax until Rumlow had disappeared through the crowd of bodies. Once he had, Bucky whipped around, scanning me for injuries or anything out of place that he could find. Once he was satisfied, he let out a breath of relief. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, too upset for words. Bucky seemed to catch on, gently taking my hand and leading me back over to the bar. He pulled the stool out for me and sat next to me, sliding my drink over in front of me. I took it gratefully, downing the liquid in a few sips. It burned all the way down, distracting me from the earlier events.

I might have been one of the most feared people out there, but it didn't seem to keep creeps away or the nerves that came with encounters such as that. I'm still human after all.

"Doll?"

I snapped my head over to him, eyes wide. "Yes?" His flesh hand covered over my own clutching the glass between my fingers, drawing my eyes to the damage. There was a distinct crack in the side and my hands were shaking. I pulled them into my lap and out of his reach, "Sorry."

Bucky shook his head, pulling his arm back to himself. "Whad'ya say we get outta here? Find somewhere a little quieter?"

I looked at him then, taking in the sincerity in his ocean blues. There was no dark intentions hidden within them, not like Rumlow. There was only safety. I found myself nodding and slipping off the stool. He followed, standing next to me and offering me his hand. I took it, letting him once again lead us out of the room. We slipped into the hallway and easily into the elevator. Both of us sighed as the doors closed behind us, enveloping us in a silence we seemed to yearn for. Neither of us spoke as the elevator lifted us, taking us up to my room.

I slipped out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, easing at the empty rooms and the lack of noise once again. Bucky followed behind me just a few steps away. He walked me to my door, waiting for me to dismiss him for the night. I wasn't quite ready to let him go though, I only danced once with him this evening. I hadn't spent such a wonderful night solely with him and guilt had begun to lick at my stomach.

"Come in for a while? I owe you just a few more dances, don't I?" I was hopeful, too hopeful.

But of course, Bucky humored me with his kind smile and warm eyes. "Most definitely, I'm not letting you off that easily." The two of us slipped behind the door, Bucky easing it closed once we were inside. "Sit on the bed for a second."

I did as he told me, plopping onto the edge of the bed and watching as he kicked off his dress shoes beside the doorframe. He walked over to the only chair in the room and snagged the sweater he had given me off the armrest where I kept it the rare few times I wasn't wearing it.  He made a motion of raising his arms and I mimicked him, allowing him to slip the material over my head. I sighed in satisfaction, finally getting some semblance of warmth since I put on the dress. I tended to wear long sleeves or pants often due to my lack of body heat and it warmed my heart to realize that Bucky remembered the small fact.

He then knelt in front of me, slipping the heels off my feet and setting them at the edge of the bed. His eyes glanced up at me sheepishly, "I heard some girls at the bar talking about how uncomfortable they could be and figured you'd feel the same."

I laughed, "They really are dreadful." There was a swell of happiness in my soul at the grin he reciprocated at my words.

"Shall we?" Bucky lifted his hand to me, allowing me to take it and tug me from the bed and out towards the balcony attached to the room. I never used it, too cold for me as the fall began to set in. Bucky called to Friday, and the AI seemed to know exactly what he wanted as music began to trickle into my room. "Just follow my lead, you'll be a professional in no time."

We danced for hours.

I didn't know how he put up with my lack of skill or the amount of times I stumbled and caught his toes. He would just laugh, easing me back into the music and coaching me along until I had the moves down to heart. Bucky would swing me out, spin me around, and dip me low one moment before he had us swing into the next move. It was wonderful and thrilling, the room filled with our laughter and teasing. I had never felt more alive than in that moment. Never felt so happy than with him. I never wanted to let it go.

Of course, every day has to come to an end. Ours so happened to be 2 A.M. when Stark notified us that our music was 'atrociously loud and your laughter is grating against my eardrums three floors down.' We had just laughed and turned off the music, sending Friday back with an apology.

Once we had caught our breath, we made our way back into the bedroom and shut the balcony door. Bucky's hair had loosened some and strands of brown hair tickled the sides of his face and framed his jaw. I was reminded once more how beautiful he was.

"Thank you for tonight, I've never had this much fun."

Bucky smiled, brushing a strand away from his face. "Any time, I had a blast."

A silence engulfed us then, neither of us really wanting to leave. I struggled to think of something else to say, to keep him here a moment longer. I thought about what it would be like after he left, the waves of nightmares just waiting for me behind closed eyes, to drown me. He turned away, leaning down to grab his shoes as I spoke. "Bucky?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at me, patiently waiting for me to ask my question.

I wrung my hands in my lap as I took a seat at the edge of the bed again. "Would you stay? You're not the only one that struggles with nightmares." It had been a long time since I had admitted a weakness to anyone, but the peace in which I had slept that night was too much of a temptation not to ask.

I could see his mind processing what I said, his left hand clenching as he thought about it. I knew he still feared the prosthetic, but he also knew I could handle myself. It was a few beats before he nodded, releasing his shoes back by the door and coming back over to the bed.

I motioned to the dresser, "The clothes you lent me are in the top drawer."

A soft smile pulled onto his face as he grabbed the garments from the drawer. I turned away, giving him a moment of privacy as he slipped out of his suit and into a pair of sweatpants.

There was a warm hand on my elbow when he was finished, guiding me around to face him once more. "Do you mind if I sleep like this?" Bucky stood before me in just his sweats, giving me a full view of his sculpted torso. I shook my head, desperately trying to keep my eyes respectful.

I turned towards the dresser and began shifting through my clothes for something comfortable to wear to bed as the mattress creaked behind me. I was used to long sleeves and undergarments, but the thought of sleeping next to him in so little clothes sent flames up to my cheeks. I opted for a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.

I headed towards the bathroom, glancing at Bucky stretched out on the bed, "I'm going to rinse my face and I'll be right back. Do you need a toothbrush? There's a spare under the sink you can use when I'm finished." He hummed in response, obviously exhausted from the events of tonight.

I cleaned up in the bathroom, scrubbing my face free of makeup and slipping on more comfortable clothes. I cracked the door open as I began preparing my toothbrush, not at all surprised when Bucky slipped in a moment later and mimicking my motions. It was as if it was normal, like we had done it a million times before. In a sense, we had. I could recall many times that the two of us had shared a hotel room and a small bathroom, much more cramped than this one. We had spent nights in the same bed and watched over each other in the night. It wasn't so different from now as we stood shoulder to shoulder at the sink and brushed our teeth together.

When we were finished we both slipped into the bed. I took the left side while he took the right. I could feel the weight of his body on the other side of the bed, the pull of my body towards his. I could hear my heart pounding in my eardrums. The scent of his aftershave from this afternoon still clung to his skin and wafted temptingly towards me. I wanted so badly to turn to him, to look in his eyes and feel his skin against mine. I wanted to feel the cool metal of his arm against my side and the trace of his fingers over my back. The memories I had of us tugged at my mind, torturing me with the lack of contact between us both. It was nearly agonizing.

There was a shift in the bed and then warm breath hit the back of my neck in slow steady exhales. He had fallen asleep. Nearly five minutes in and the assassin had let the soft pull of exhaustion take him off to the land of dreams.

I relaxed into the mattress, content by his comfort. I let my eyelids slip closed as I shifted to find a comfortable position. The moment I moved though, a heavy arm was snaking around me. It pulled me back against Bucky's chest and slipped beneath my shirt to rest against my stomach. I knew he was asleep, but the contact sent a shiver of excitement slithering down my spine. I took a breath to collect myself and relax my muscles once more. But his breath was hitting my neck and sending goosebumps across my skin, and his leg had slipped itself between my own and molded our bodies against each other in his sleep. He was warm and comfortable, safe, but I knew that if he woke up he would remove himself in embarrassment.

It was wrong of me to be so taken with him, to have these thoughts as he slept next to me. How could I help myself?

I gently shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. When that didn't help I forced my eyes shut again and focused solely on his breathing. In, out. In, out. I let it lull me into sleep, letting the darkness slip over me as my own breath evened with his and consciousness slipped away.

Tags<3

@cjand10 / @blackbirdwitch22 / @imdoingathingmom

[itzsephig5]

2.3.5 (B Me)

My Masterlist

This story on Wattpad

Intro - Age of Ultron 1.0 1.1 1.2 1.3 1.4 1.5 1.6 1.7 1.8 1.9 1.10 1.11 1.12 Intro - Civil War 2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4 2.5 2.6 2.7 2.8 Intro - B Me 3.0 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7 3.8 3.9 3.10 3.11 3.12 Updated Character Info 3.13 3.14 3.15 3.16 3.17 3.18 3.19 3.20 Final Character Info

Important info for chapter:

News reports like this

Third person POV:

Steve stood alone in the isle. Sam had headed back to the hotel to give Steve privacy. He heard heels come up from behind him before he turned around. "When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her." Steve says to Natasha. "She had you back, too." She said trying to make him feel a little better. There was a silence for a moment. "Who else signed?" Steve asked the redhead. He already knew she signed. "Tony. Rhodey. Vision." Natasha said. "Clint?" He asked. "Says he's retired." Natasha says with a slight smile. "Wanda and Y/n?" Steve asked about the young couple. "TBD." She says. "Pietro?" He asked. "He signed. I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords and he's coming with. There's still plenty of room on the jet." Natasha offers. Steve just sighs and lowers his head. "Just because it's the path of least resistance doesn't mean it's the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together." She says. It seemed that Natasha was trying to convince herself of that. "What are we giving up to do it." Steve says. Natasha let out a sigh. Steve shakes his head. "I'm sorry Nat. I can't sign it." He adds on. "I know." Natasha says. "Then what are you doing here?" He asked. "I didn't want you to be alone." She says before pulling Steve into a hug. "Come here."

A few hours later

Steve was standing in the hotel with Sharon. "My mom tried to talk me out of enlisting, but not Aunt Peggy. She bought me my first thigh holster." The blonde tells Steve. "Very practical." Steve says slightly amused. "And stylish." Sharon says as both were waiting by an elevator, waiting for it to arrive. "CIA has you stationed over here now?" He asked. "In Berlin, Joint Terrorism Task Force." She tells him. "Right. Right. Sounds fun." Steve responds. "I know right?" Sharon says with slight sarcasm. Steve just nodded his head and smiled at the woman. "I've been meaning to ask you. When you were spying on me from across the hall..." Steve says before Sharon cut him off. "You mean when I was doing my job?" She interjects. "Did Peggy know?" Steve continues, not fazed about her comment. "She kept so many secrets. I didn't want her to have one from you." The elevator finally arrived. "Thanks for walking me back." She added. "Sure." Steve says. Sam appeared and walked over to where the two were standing. "Steve. There's something you gotta see." The three headed towards a TV. Sharon was on the phone immediately trying to figure out what was happening and what she needed to do. "A bomb hidden in a news van..." A reporter says. "Who's coordinating?" Sharon said. You could hear her over the slight chaos that was happening due to what was on the TV. "Ripped through the UN building in Vienna." The reporter finished saying. "Good they're solid. Forensics?" Sharon replied as she was still on the phone. Steve looked at the building. Worried about if Natasha and Pietro were okay. "More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda's King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Solider. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations." The reporter on the TV says. Sharon ends her call before heading over to where Steve and Sam were standing. "I have to go to work."

[zimwy]

CHARACTER STATS FRAMEWORK.

STATS.

FULL NAME:   james buchanan barnes.

NICKNAME(S):  bucky. the winter soldier. the man on the wall. the revolution, as of late.

AGE:  as of 2025, around 100. physically appears in his late 20s or early 30s.

BIRTHDAY:  march 20th, 1925, in shelbyville, indiana.

SPECIES:  altered human, super soldier.

NATIONALITY:  jewish american.

GENDER:  amab, believes he is a cisgender male, more appropriately fits into the box of 'agender nonbinary'. feels very genderless and unattached at times, other times isn't sure what he's experiencing is maleness (though it's not femaleness either).

PREFERRED PRONOUN(S):  he/him/his, they/them/theirs. she/her only from an intimate partner. the winter soldier will be referred to by it/they interchangeably in text.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  biromantic. slight male lean.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  bisexual. moderate male lean.

RELIGION:  jewish-christian interfaith. mostly believes and follows judaism, identifies more with judaism, but celebrates things like christmas most of the time. 

OCCUPATION: former 'sidekick' to captain america, served as a young assassin and sniper taking on the wetwork. later, unwilling soviet spy and operative. former avenger, played the role of captain america for some years. former thunderbolt, though i'm not super fond of this era. shield agent, nick fury's lap dog at points.

FC: carter jenkins.

RELATIONSHIPS.

PARENTS:   winnifred "winnie" barnes, mother, deceased. george barnes, father, deceased.

SIBLINGS:  rebeca barnes, sister.

FAMILY:  most extended family is dead, given bucky's unique longevity.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S):   none. formerly natalia romanov, the black widow.

CHILDREN:  no biological children. arguably, father figure to kobik and rj boyle.

CLOSEST FRIENDS:  steven grant rogers and the rest of the invaders, natalia romanova, sharon carter, daisy johnson, sam wilson, the majority of the avengers, logan. 

RIVALS:  hawkeye.  

ENEMIES:  hydra, nazis, fascists in general. has been employed to kill innumerable political enemies for the soviet union and kgb.  

PHYSICAL TRAITS.

EYE COLOR(S):  brown.

HAIR COLOR(S):  dark brown, looks black in some lighting but is clearly brown.

HEIGHT:  5 ft. 9.

BODY BUILD:  athletic but far from herculean or hefty, bucky is solidly built in the modern day to account for his prowess.  muscular chest, taut abdomen, narrow hips, powerful, thick thighs, strong calves.  long, arched feet.  long hands. somewhat long fingers. looks like a runner and a dancer. 

NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS:  missing his left arm, replaced with a highly technologically advanced prosthetic that bites into his trapezius, pectoral, back, and breast bone. killer smile. hair is wavy/curly (see chris samnee's bucky illustrations).

PHOBIAS AND DISEASES.

PHOBIA(S):  slightly claustrophobic. panics in very tight spaces. 

MENTAL DISORDER(S):  ptsd. partial dissociative disorder. cluster b symptoms leaning toward bpd. 

WHEN AND HOW WAS THIS DIAGNOSED?  probably not ever officially. 

PHYSICAL DISEASE(S):  no physical diseases. disabled, missing arm from trapezius down.

PERSONALITY.

USUAL MOOD/EXPRESSION:  slightly "bitch face"-y.

MORAL ALIGNMENT:  neutral. wants to be good, falls easily into apathy and anger.

JUNG:  TBA.

ENNEAGRAM:   TBA.

FOUR TEMPERAMENTS:  TBA..

TOP TROPES:    the atoner,  brutal honesty, deadpan snarker,  good is not soft,  hot blooded, tragic hero, undying loyalty.

PROMINENT TRAITS:   defiant, clever, daring, observant, skillful,  deceptive, neutral, sarcastic,  blunt, stubborn,  angry, tough, protective,  brutal, calculating, considerate. i would like to point out baby bucky tried to kill wolverine, twice, while underequipped and outclassed, because he was suspicious of him and his intentions.

MISC.

SKILLS: master assassin and reconnaissance agent. master marksman, especially when sniping.

HOBBIES:  TBT.

ELEMENT:  snow.

ANIMAL:  wolf.

KNOWN LANGUAGES: english, hebrew, some yiddish, russian, mandarin, spanish, german, japanese, vietnamese, french, arabic.

STATS.

COMPASSION:  5/10.

EMPATHY:  7/10.

CREATIVITY:  8/10.

MENTAL FLEXIBILITY:  6/10 .

PASSION / MOTIVATION:  7/10.

EDUCATION:  6/10.

STAMINA:  10/10.

PHYSICAL STRENGTH:  6/10.

BATTLE SKILL:  10/10.

INITIATIVE:  6/10.

RESTRAINT:  5/10.

AGILITY:  9/10.

STRATEGY:   10/10.

TEAMWORK:  4/10.

some kinda bio will be added later. lmao

[01army-a]

CHARACTER SHEET

full name. james buchanan barnes nickname. buck, bucky, the winter soldier, white wolf, prisoner #56898 pronouns. he / him. size. 6'4" age. 106 zodiac. pisces spoken languages. english, spanish, portuguese, german, russian, latin, japanese, etc

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

hair. dark brown, straight and messy. since he's escaped hydra, he's been trying to keep it short and keep himself groomed the way he would before he joined the army. more often than not, he fails at this and forgets to cut it. reference image. eyes. blue, cold, soft skin tone. very slightly tan body type. tall, broad shoulders, massive back, muscled and bulky. reference image. voice. low, gravelly, quiet. the fact that he's spent more time speaking russian than english lingers in his speech in some words dominant hand. right handed until he got a new arm. now ambidextrous scars. massive scar tissue right where the metal arm meets his own body. also a few bullet / knife scars here and there. reference image. birthmarks. no birthmarks most notable features. his blue eyes, jawline, dark messy hair and his metal arm

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃

place of birth. shelbyville, indiana hometown. shelbyville siblings. older sister, rebecca parents. unknown

𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

occupation. covert operative. verse dependent current residence. verse dependent close friends. steve rogers, sam wilson, natalia romanova financial status. he does not have significant wealth driver's license. yes criminal record. you name it, he's done it. mass murder, terrorism, mutilation, kidnapping, mass destruction, torture, assault, breaking and entering, stalking, assassinations, espionage, sabotage, covert attacks, etc vices. self - loathing, guilt, anger, isolation, detachment, addiction to combat and violence

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

sexual orientation. bisexual preferred sexual role. dominant turn offs. he's not a fan of anyone who doesn't have a big pain threshold bc he can be heavy-handed and rough. bondage is a no-no for him turn on's. intense sex where he gets to be in control, heavy eye-contact, manhandling, deep creampies, knife / gun play, choking his partner, loves ripping underwear or clothes off them, etc love language. physical touch and words of affirmation relationship tendencies. over protective and loyal as hell. very patient with his partners. he pines and longs secretly and he won't admit it. he's a bit obsessive. he used to be romantic, playful, flirty. he'd give them the whole princess treatment. now, getting that side of him is a whole lot trickier. he used to get involved with sweet, wide-eyed girls but now ?? women with violent tendencies own his heart

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒

character's theme tune. where is my mind - pixies hobbies to pass the time. reading, exercising, drinking, motorcycle riding and repair, likes hanging out with men his age (random old ass men), he helps his elderly neighbors with chores whenever he's bored left or right brained. left self-confidence level. before hydra, his self-confidence was high. now, it shifts up and down but it is low when it comes to his identity. he struggles between embracing who he is today or returning to the man he used to be

[tisiphonewolfe]

Made With Crown And Claw: WIP Intro

Original fiction - The Tectomany Saga Book One

Pitch: A Princess ends up locked in a tower, but the dragon is a girl she used to fancy.

Genre: High Fantasy

Word Count: 130k

Staus: Fourth draft complete

Releine Sholt is a soldier who can't find a purpose for her life beyond putting it on the line. She is hand-picked to be the new guard captain for the capricious Princess Almyra Tectus, with one key stipulation - she must never speak to her, on threat of dire punishment.

The Tectus family was blessed by the goddess Ialme with divine magic that can alter the forms of creatures and objects - something Almyra consistently fails at. Her father is determined to find his daughter a worthy spouse to continue that lineage.

Releine and Almyra find themselves embroiled in the scemes of goddesses, immortal witches, assassins, and treacherous nobles while dealing with their burgeoning attraction to one another.

Features:

🐲 DRAGONS!

🐲 Sapphic romance and non-cis characters

🐲 There was only one bed: Hard Mode

🐲 A heist

🐲 World-bending divine magic

🐲 The trans elf anti-pope

🐲 Intrigue, schemes, and mysteries

Content Warnings (CW): Body horror, gore, lifechanging injury, violence.

Character Intros

Releine || Almyra || Jessa || Tenacity || More to come . . .

Setting

The Tectomancy Saga takes place in a bowl-shaped world, with nothing below the rim but swirling mists, and a vast, deep forest spanning the middle.

Hundreds of years ago, the peoples of the world were each blessed by their goddess (or witch, or genius as some like to argue) with a divine magic that has shaped their culture. Now the world is decaying, and a struggle for control over the magics has begun.

Taglist (DM to be added or removed): @indy-gray @sam-glade

First chapter below the cut

For centuries, scientists and philosophers in the Academic Ring of Leirsham vastly agreed that the world was round. The bright lights that decorate our skies at night must be the glimmering lights of far-off cities - the sun lazily circles the interior of this sphere, loyally followed by its lunar companion.

This was the accepted notion until one brave explorer found the edge of the world; high in the mountains to the east, beyond dead and decaying lands into which humans rarely dared to venture, she saw the truth - the world is a vast bowl.

Blue mists boiled and churned far below, creeping around the sheer cliff edge as the brave explorer dangled her legs off the edge, frozen in wonder and fear, sure that any moment she’d tumble down into their greedy embrace and be forever forgotten, left to the mysteries below.

Not far from where the explorer had sat, nestled away in the mountains, a stream bubbles up from under the ground. It bumbles its way through the valleys where snow Alfar purportedly made their home, and through the rocky tundra that hosted sturdy mountain Droichs. From there, it rages and rumbles through the plains - a fork of it taking a detour to trundle through deep forests in the middle of the bowl, past the territory of the elusive forest Alfar and into the dense, tangled, and gloomy places where Beastfolk roam. The first branch becomes the River Ilt; it thunders once more, through hills and farmland, before depositing itself into Lake Simul, where humans chose to build their capital city.

Across the bridge, to the hill-island in the centre of the lake. Up the cliff, through the great stone rings of the city; the guard outposts; the residential district; the merchants’ and artificers’ marketplace; the Guilds’ and the Academic Rings; the military barracks; the homes of the rich and the noble; and lastly, the palace.

In one courtyard, in a corner of the palace walls, in a line of steely soldiers and mercenaries, Releine Sholt was staring at a slightly smug statue and trying very hard not to move.

❖

The previous night, she had slammed her fists into the commander’s desk and growled; “This is a ridiculous idea, Sir. I didn’t join up to hold umbrellas and open doors for the King’s brat.”

Hidrim Grant had levelled a tired gaze over his reading spectacles and put his quill back in the ink-pot with his meaty, scarred hand. “Careful, Sholt. You’re talking about the Princess of our realm, heir apparent. And all that. Shouldn’t talk about her disrespectfully, I suppose. Besides, she’s older than you.”

“No, sir”, Releine had complained through clenched teeth. “But everyone knows she’s a brat.”

“Hmm. Well, don’t look at it like that. This is an honour, soldier - most people would kill for this opportunity.” Grant had blown the ink dry on the hastily-scribbled missive in front of him and dropped it into a grimy ‘out’ tray. “It’s easy work for an officer’s pay.”

Releine had clenched her fists as her mouth flapped open and closed a couple of times. “Officer’s pay . . . ?”

“Yup.”

“You’re taking pity on me.”

Grant had rubbed the wrinkles of exhaustion from his brow. “I won’t lie. I know your family situation, yeah. That’s not all there is to it though.” He had gotten up and moved closer to her, perching on the edge of his desk companionably. “You are the best this company has. You’ve excelled in your training, you’re a smart lass, you’ve seen combat - well, some combat. Enough. Most importantly though, you exercise discretion and you know how to keep your mouth shut.”

Releine had said nothing. Grant had studied her expression - cold, deep eyes peered out over an arched nose. A scar graced her freckled cheeks from the corner of an eye down to her heavy jawline. Her thin lips were pursed, and her forehead creased between her dark eyebrows. Grant had known the kid since she was knee-height and knew that this look meant: “I’m trying to appear defiant in a poor attempt to hide the fact that I’m considering it.” In many ways, she hadn’t changed much.

“Look,” Grant had pressed, “It’s only a selection anyway. There will be at least a dozen other soldiers there from the other companies. Probably some from the mercenary guild too. It’s not like you’re signing on the dotted line just by going to the thing.”

The forehead-creases had deepened.

“It’s worth a shot, no? Just see how it is.”

Muscled arms had folded over her chest.

“Don’t make me order you.”

Grant had breathed an internal sigh of relief as the girl’s tall, awkward frame collapsed backwards onto a creaking wooden chair. Maybe this would work out after all. “Fine”, she had sighed with resignation, “I’ll do it.” Hastily she had added “Sir”, after a moment’s pause.

Lamplight had flickered over the pocked oak panels of Grant’s office. “Good. Well. That’s settled then. So let’s go over the rules.” Releine had raised an eyebrow as Grant continued. “The King is very particular about the conduct of the Royal Guards, so listen closely . . . ”

❖

With the commander’s advice circling in her head, Releine had arrived at the palace this crisp late-spring morning. Vouched for by commanders and guild leaders, the soldiers were ushered through the lush grounds by hushed staff, leaves crunching under heavy leather boots and clanking sabatons.

Releine craned her neck at the palace; this was the first time she’d seen it up close. It rose from the crest of the hill like a great patch of mushrooms, seeming not built, but grown. A statue in front of her was similarly hewn out of the ground, not atop the flagstones, or embedded in them, but part of them. The stonework betrayed not the impact of a chisel, but the touch of a fingertip. New styles of magnificence had been added over the centuries according to the occupants’ tastes, creating a grandiose hodge-podge of clashing columns, balconies, arches, and windows, all fighting to dictate the overall style - which ultimately was that this was the residence of a group of people with far too much time and money on their hands. Releine enjoyed thinking that all that investment hadn’t stopped the place from being ugly.

A tense silence had fallen over the lines of soldiers - she assumed that they had all had similar lectures from their superiors to what Commander Grant had given her last night. With this knowledge, there wasn’t even an uneasy shuffling. Nobody muttered. Nobody twitched. Barely anybody even dared to chance a breath.

The rule of utmost import that Releine held steady in her head right now was this: “Do not speak in the presence of the Princess, not even if you’re spoken to. Don’t react to her in any way other than to follow her commands. For all other purposes, you are a plank of wood. You got that, Sholt? She’s going to try it on with you, you know. She wants that reaction. Don’t give it to her. You don’t want to end up like the last one.”

Grant had not specified what had happened to the last one.

Whatever the reason for this arcane rule, it would apply to Releine throughout her service here, should she be lucky enough to receive job of personal guard to Her Highness Princess Almyra Tectus, heir to the throne, darling of the city, beloved of the people, and spoiled royal extraordinaire. It made sense to Releine, quite suddenly, why she was only ever seen waving from a distance, stood behind her daddy on some balcony, or trapped behind a carriage door; for whatever reason, the King would not allow his daughter to be sullied by hearing common voices. The money, she thought, had bloody better be worth it.

Almyra Tectus flounced into the courtyard on the stately heels of her father, His Majesty King Ifys Tectus, the thirty-second king of Humankind. Releine barely acknowledged King Ifys Tectus and his many titles being smoothly announced by an unassuming herald. Her response to the man himself was purely automatic - ankles together, back straight, salute held at a perfect angle, entirely at attention - the muscular mercenary-looking woman next to her didn’t do quite so well, taking a moment to react and awkwardly toss a salute into the air. Releine’s eyes flickered briefly over the King - to be fair, he didn’t seem like the kind of man who intended to hold anyone’s attention for long. For all purposes, he looked more like a guild money-keeper than royalty. He wore a stuffy grey suit, a shirt with ruffled sleeves, and a blue cravat - for that splash of colour to show he could be fun, she supposed. His thick ceremonial cloak was draped messily over his shoulders and very much looked like it didn’t want to be there either, but we have to make this work, Your Majesty. No crown was atop his graying hair - an understated silver circlet hid above his furrowed brow. An awkward half-smile peeked through his goatee as he scanned the courtyard of people before him. If he’d offered them a cheeky wink, Releine wouldn’t have been surprised.

But Releine’s fleeting glance at the King was eclipsed by her. Almyra Tectus was a woman of about her age, though the way she skipped through the courtyard was reminiscent of a child at play. She had a wave of ginger hair and bright, round green eyes that sparkled below a jewelled tiara and above full pink cheeks. A purple shawl was tied in a pretty bow over the puffiest, most ruffly periwinkle dress she had ever seen, with the hint of some very impractical shoes going on somewhere in the explosion of petticoats below. And she was short - Releine decided that whoever had sculpted, painted, or otherwise portrayed her royal visage had been carefully instructed to add a few inches to her height and just that bit more classical goddess-archetypal beauty, thank you. Her scan of the courtyard differed from her father’s - she blew hair out of her face and fiddled with her necklace as her eyes flickered from person to person. Her father’s half-smile said “absent-minded”. Almyra’s said “This is the most interesting thing that has happened to me all week and I’m ready to get into some mischief.” Releine stared at her, probably for far too long, as those green eyes flicked over to her. Snapping back to reality, she quickly turned her gaze directly ahead and pretended she had always been looking at absolutely nothing, not even the stones in the wall ahead of her, a technique known and practised by most soldiers for exactly such ceremonial occasions as these. Hopefully, she thought, it hadn’t been too late. This occasion was already stressful enough without any mischief. The King cleared his throat generously and spoke in a plummy voice. “Ahem. Hem. Good of you all to be here on such short notice, my compliments to your commanding officers. Unfortunately, my daughter’s previous personal guard was quite suddenly lost - a fine young warrior such as yourselves - and the position is quite essential to fill. We shan’t take too much of your time.” He turned to his daughter. “Any one you like, Myra, my dear.”

The Princess began to pace between the rows, hands clasped behind her back, a carefully-chosen mock scowl with one raised eyebrow on her face. The heavy silence was broken only by the sound of the King fumbling through his robes for a rolled cigarette and the hiss of a match being struck. The hair on the back of Releine’s neck prickled as Almyra passed behind her, the clack of her heels stopping briefly as she said to the men behind her, “Hmm. No, not you. Or you. You . . . Maybe. Oh, this one won’t do at all.”

Almyra made her way back to Releine’s row and she mentally recoiled, expecting any second to hear the Princess arbitrarily dismiss her too. It wasn’t that she even particularly wanted this job. Her plan had always been to support her mother and younger siblings either through her military wage, or from the payout that her death in service would afford them. Grant had been right that her family situation was dire and that the higher pay afforded to the relatively peaceful life of a royal guard would be an enormous boon to them. It just didn’t feel particularly right to Releine - she felt that she belonged on the battlefield, where her life would at least be of use to someone. Still, to her frustration, she wasn’t quite ready to feel the sting of rejection from her royal highness. Fortunately, the Princess passed right on by and stopped at the mercenary to her left who had struggled with her salute earlier.

Staring up at the statuesque woman with her hands on her hips and feet set apart, Almyra cocked her head, inspecting her face-paint, the polished battle-nicked spear, and the somewhat battered leather armour. A beat of time went by, before the Princess smartly rose a foot and brought her heel down on a sandal-clad foot, hard. The mercenary yelped what was quite clearly the first vowel of a curse, before stemming it down to a pained growl. She flashed a thunderous glance of rage down at the Princess with gritted teeth. Almyra herself was squealing with laughter, which terminated in a short snort. Wiping a tear from her eye, and still speaking through giggles, she said to the mercenary, “Oh no, I’m afraid that’s too much. Papa wouldn’t approve of that.” The King’s cigarette shifted from one side of his mouth to the other as he shook his head gently. Releine wished that she’d told Grant more firmly that she didn’t want to be here.

The merc’s shoulders sagged. Almyra continued down the rows for her second lap, this time occasionally stopping in front of someone and pulling some similar prank. The Princess had no concept of personal space and absolutely no boundaries. Releine could feel the mood of her fellow soldiers sour as the Princess was displeased with either the overreaction, or lack of reaction from each one. Faces were pulled, cheeks were pinched, armour plates were unclasped. One waifish young man from another company was beckoned to put his ear down towards her. Whatever she whispered had the boy gasping for air between stitches of laughter. The King rolled his eyes.

It was on the Princess’s fourth lap of eliminations that she finally stopped in front of Releine. Almyra reached a finger up, under her chin. “Well, look at you.” Almyra murmured softly, guiding her face to turn this way and that. “Where did such a handsome face get a scar like that?” Soft fingers traced down the reddish-white line that ran from the corner of her eye to her jaw. Releine maintained her nervous silence, though her heart jumped into her throat. Her eyes turned down towards the other girl’s and she reluctantly realised that she badly wanted the Princess to pick her.

In front of her, Almyra’s attitude, playful and somewhat mean, had melted away. She had asked with genuine curiosity; the warmth of Almyra’s hand on her cheek, a glint behind her eyes, the way her lips had pursed out of their menacing little grin - Releine understood what she’d been trying to achieve. Nobody beyond her father and select individuals had ever spoken to her, and nobody ever could without feeling the force of the King’s wrath. She pictured the King’s steely eyes and shaking head as Almyra had sparked too much of a reaction out of each one. She needed to speak without speaking, let her know there was someone else in here who she could connect to. Seized by an urge to reach out to the girl, Releine waited. The moment seemed to last forever as Almyra’s hand left her cheek and the King took a long, lingering drag on his cigarette. As the Princess looked set to turn away, he slowly let a column of smoke spiral into the crisp morning air, and Releine rapidly blinked twice.

The flutter of her eyelashes turned the Princess’s head back towards her, eyebrows raised. She staggered back, off-balance on her heels, and set herself in front of Releine once again.

“Papa! I’ve chosen. I want this one.”

The King casually put out his cigarette and tossed the smouldering butt to the floor. He sauntered through the ranks towards his daughter, and put his hand upon her shoulder, looking Releine up and down. “Hmm. Decent enough choice. Good muscle on her. Name, soldier?” Releine’s mouth parted slightly before slamming closed again as she remembered the rule. Not even when spoken to. Not even by the King. The stark moment was followed by the King muttering, “Very good, very good. Well done.” He turned to his daughter. “Alright. Would you like to do the honours, my darling?”

Almyra shook her head, her cheeks flushing even pinker with embarrassment. “Oh, no. I’m still not quite - no, not yet.”

“No matter.” The King reassured her “We’re working on it, aren’t we my girl? You’ll get there. Step forward, soldier.”

Releine stepped forward and witnessed Tectomancy for the first time - the divine, royal magic that could reshape the world, held secret by the royal family for a millennium.

The King’s hand drifted to her company insignia where it was pinned to the left strap of her leather breastplate. Taking it between his thumb and forefinger, he gently stroked the metal, tracing its engravings and shape. An ethereal blue-and-white glow spread across its surface, accompanied by a low melodic hum, like wind whistling through a tunnel. The metal began to bend and deform, folding over itself, churning, until it settled into a new shape. Fresh engravings scored themselves into the surface as she found herself wearing the badge of a captain of the royal guard.

The King straightened up. “Take the day. Go and see your family or friends, and bid farewell to your company. It may be a while before you next see them. Arrangements will be made for you - present the badge at the palace gates at seven sharp tomorrow morning. Until then, Captain.”

The King ambled back towards the courtyard’s exit. Almyra regarded Releine’s face one moment more before she too turned away and caught up to her father, the cheeky grin having returned to her face. Soldiers and mercenaries filed out, casting dark glances her way and grumbling to one another in low tones. As the final one wandered past, Releine’s frozen, flabbergasted form finally jolted into motion and she marched stiffly out of the courtyard and away from her new home.

[lia-land]

The Assassin's Blade

4/5 stars

*Spoilers for The Assassin's Blade by Sarah J. Maas.

I read this as the third book in the series, as SJM herself recommends. I loved this book and it’s pacing. I know the other reading order is to read it before Throne of Glass, but I don’t think I’d have cared enough to finish it then.

I actually think the best time to read The Assassin’s Blade would be after ToG and before CoM. I say that because the mentions of Rourke and Wesley in CoM confused me. It would have made a lot more sense and been far more impactful to read The Assassin’s Blade and then find out in CoM that Rourke and Wesley died after Celaena was sent to Endovier. Nothing made sense to me in CoM when Chaol and Celaena talked about the crime lords and Wesley’s death, and I had no reason to care because I didn’t know who they were.

The main debate seems to be whether or not this book is necessary and I definitely think it is. You won’t be lost in the future books if you don’t read it, but you won’t particularly care about certain characters that reappear and their appearances won’t be meaningful if you don’t know their history with Celaena. This is largely due to SJM choosing to write it like this, though. Not sure how I feel about this because it just seems like a marketing tactic so that people feel like they should read this book.

I think SJM should have either made it clear that this book is essential, or she should have written the reappearances better for those who chose not to read this book Even on Goodreads, AB is listed as 0.1-0.5 of the series, when it should be 3 if it’s essential, and her writing choice in the other books makes it seem so. I will not digress here as to avoid spoilers and will touch on this again in my review of Empire of Storms.

I feel bad saying this, but I didn’t think there was much chemistry between Celaena and Sam. It felt slightly forced and their interactions just felt off to me. Obviously, we know he dies (if you read AB in the recommended order), but how and why he died surprised me because it seemed very out of character of both Celaena and Sam to go after Rourke and Jayne, no matter how much money was offered. It was arrogant for the two of them to assume they were so unbeatable that they could take them down and they paid price. Arobynn was the only voice of reason. Maybe this was meant to come across as idiotic and desperate for love, but Celaena’s character until then didn’t come across as someone who would have made that decision, regardless of the desperation and her arrogance. 

Arobynn is one of my favorite characters in this series. He is awful and so interesting to read about because he truly has no limits to what he will do. It’s a different type of awful compared to Dorian’s father, who is just to-your-face evil. Arobynn is confusing in an interesting way because you never know if he’s acting out of love or revenge. I do wish we got to see more of his character throughout the series. I’d love to read a book from his POV to see his thought process for betraying Celaena.

The last few chapters of this book were some of my favorites in the series. The conversation between Rourke and Arobynn where Arobynn admits to betraying Celaena was chilling. I loved Celaena’s trial and interaction with the king, too, and how she told the white stag to run. Some of SJM's best writing.

Overall, a great book. It was a nice change of pace after the previous two.