#that they change color for no reason and lose all sense of continuity until they evolve again

[front-facing-pokemon]

[jinxthequeergirl]

Fireworks

pines family x parental figure!reader/ implied stanfordx reader

Summary: based on the song "Fireworks" by mitski- you've lost yourself in your journey to bring back your friend from another dimension that you've almost forgotten about your family.

Warning: ANGST BABY!!!!! WOWOW! Also corny as hell

Enjoy

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~

You wondered how long you'd feel like this. The sense of constant unease and dread and guilt.

"You're going to drive yourself crazy staring at those pages."

You blinked with heavy eyelids as you stared at the half complete layout of the large portal machine. "I can figure it.. I know I can..." You mumbled.

"There's nothing we can do until we have the last journal."

You said nothing but focused on the pages, thinking till your brain was numb.

Stan sighed, realizing he wasn't getting you away from those books without a fight.

"ME and the kids are going to be outside incase you care to join us."

You mumbled or groaned he couldn't really tell the difference. He frowned he had noticed a change in you most recently though he knew you didn't think he did.

A slight grey in your eyes as you continued to work. He knew you wanted to bring Stanford home so did he. But not to the extent you had been pushing it too. So he quietly went to meet the kids upstairs.

You felt your eyes growing heavy. Your thoughts drift as you stared at the page and wondered when you had gotten to this point.

You had spent so much time crying for Stanford to come back, so much time blaming Stanley for losing him. Then the feelings just fossilized one morning. You knew they where still there. You still felt the grief, the guilt the anger.

But for some reason, you'd forgot how to cry.

You heard a faint popping from upstairs but didn't think much of it at first. Still dazing into the old journals.

Trying for anything. A spark of an idea a glimmer of hope, the courage to face what you feared be true, to feel less lifeless again.

hoping that the almost numb feeling wasn't your lost feelings for him. If that was the case, then that would mean you'd given up hope on finding him again.

You hear the popping again, followed by cheering. You look up for the first time in what feels like hours. Your neck hurts, and you groan in pain as your eyes are met with a photo of you and Stanford.

Is this what he would want for you? The feelings you had were real and still hurt. The feelings you had for Ford were just the same.

Your eyes drift to the photo next to it. You and Stanley and the kids squished together to fit the frame. A wide grin across all your faces.

You heard the popping and booming louder this time.

This isn't what Stanford would want for you. You decide as you push yourself out of the chair with a stretch and up the basement steps.

You he'd want you to realize that what you felt was healing. Not losing hope or feeling for him like you feared.

Your eyes adjust to the light as you step into the warm summer night.

He'd want you to connect with the people you called family.

"Y/n, you made it! We still have some fireworks left!" Mable cheered as you shut the door that led to the roof. "I saved all your favorite colors incase you came out."

Take care of yourself.

"I dunno guys. Isn't this kinda dangerous?" You asked. The twins shared a look with eachother before you laughed.

"Who am I kidding? Hand me the biggest one you have!" You exclaimed.

Stan laughed. "Ah there they are the y/n we all know and love!"

And more importantly be there for them.

You placed an apologetic hand on stans shoulder and offered him a smile. Which he returned.

You sat on the edge of the roof watching the fireworks for most of the night feeling your worries wash away.

Everything was gonna be alright with them by your side.

It always had been.

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~

[toastedjeans]

Siren Tower Maurice, Doise and Peddito!

The main cast is over here!

I just realized Doise's gloves should be more white but I'm too lazy to change that, just imagine they're white okay?

Some info about them down here

Maurice

Peppino's older brother and a piece of shit, who constantly belittles him and calls him a disappointment. His apartment has water damage or something similar, or maybe it got destroyed, so now he temporarily lives with Peppino until his flat is repaired. (Alternative: he didn't pay rent and got kicked out, continues not to pay rent to Peppino because "we're family, you can't charge your own brother.") He's either divorced or his girlfriend left him, is only allowed to see his son once a month. It's probably for the better.

Peppino is incredibly fed up with him but he tries to endure it, until he one day snaps and probably slaps him, they end up both kicking the shit out of each other (but Peppino is stronger because i said so).

Maurice invites himself to poker night and other activities Pep and the others do after work times, then complains that he's bored or something (M: "This sucks, why did you invite me?" P: "I didn't??"). He gets along a little with Mr. Stick, but only because they're both gamblers, he's somehow even more unlucky than Stick and keeps losing almost all his money. Doesn't get along with Hazel cause he doesn't take her seriously, thinks she's childish and stupid.

Doise

Goblin shark. He's basically Noise but blue. Noise hates him because he thinks Doise is imitating him, but they're just the same species of siren. He's a little more mellow and doesn't go feral as much or as easily as Noise. He throws rocks cause he doesn't know he's immune to sea urchin and puffer fish poison / venom. He can also go on land but needs water nearby.

He has heterochromia (one eye is blue, the other is purple-ish brown), and has the same "whiskers" as Noise, just turned down.

Absolutely terrified of Peddito, as he seems to always want to kill him, and has tried doing so a few times. Sometimes plays dead hoping that Peddito leaves him alone, it doesn't really work though.

Peddito

A failed clone of Peppino, made before Fakey. Pizzahead didn't like him as much because he didn't get the eyes right so he threw him out (basically the Other Eye problem, but he ended up leaving his eye sockets empty out of frustration). He can't see because of this, but he can still navigate through the water effortlessly. There's way less sea creature DNA in him, so he looks almost completely human just with a fin on his back and webbed hands. It's unclear where his vibrant coloring comes from.

He's strangely obsessed with Doise for some reason and doesn't interact with anyone cause he's just not interested in anyone else. He actually wants to be friends with Doise, but since Pizzahead designed him to be a killing machine, he doesn't know his own strength and ends up almost killing Doise several times. His "killer side" comes out every time he's near Doise, and he can sense his presence because of this.

When not near Doise, Peddito seems almost dead, he moves very little, and is unresponsive. He can't talk, neither human nor siren language, but he understands both. He doesn't swim, just floats through the water like a dead fish, despite this he's incredibly agile and fast. Would follow Doise on land, and could survive with pretty much no problems. He just slides across the floor when on land, as if he was on rails. The bottoms of his feet are always slippy, making it easier for him to move. Might leave a trail wherever he goes.

And here's your reward for reading, some doodles of various age and messiness

Also some shippy stuff hehe

[harry-sussex]

I don’t know why I am surprised. I feel like I have been getting glimpses of the true Meghan (whom I loved) since Oprah. But for her to confirm this in such a vague way that she can wiggle out of it later if it serves her purpose it so fucking disgusting. Like I am genuinely disgusted. And where the hell is Harry? If this is all true why isn’t he the one confirming as it supposedly happened in front of him (I think. The story keeps changing)? To do this to Kate and Will (and Charles)…he must truly be so filled with bitterness and hate…I just…can hardly fathom it. It’s just so horrible.

I said all of this just about word for word to Vanessa and Arantxa last night. You and I are so on the same page - for some reason, I am also surprised, but you’re right, neither of us should be at this point. I loved her - I loved her so so so so much - I bought a dress from her SmartWorks collection, I have the cookbook, and I have the denim J Crew dress she wore to Wimbledon because I adored her and I idolized her. I flew to England alone to join their wedding festivities! I held onto that feeling for SO LONG (way longer than I should have, way longer than any of the other rational Harry girls out there) and now she has broken my heart in a way I never could’ve fathomed. There were some hmmm moments in the earlier years but they were so minor that it wasn’t enough to change the fact that I loved her anyway - everyone can vouch for it. I LOVED her. The slightest of shifts started with Oprah but I was firmly in their camp for months afterwards until it started getting really bad. Even then, I didn’t really see it in full until it kept going and going and going, culminating in Endgame. It’s over, my friend. It’s so, so over.

God, we were so blind. I know I was. Rose colored glasses. I loved her! I loved loved loved her! There was so much potential! They could’ve taken over the world! I always say “how much worse can it get?” and somehow it always does! You’re 100% right - they can’t keep it straight! How can you believe it even happened when one day this “person” said it to Harry himself, and the next day it was to Meghan, and then the next day he heard it through the royal household grapevine, and then the next day it’s blatant racism, and then the next day it’s a subtle unconscious bias that is perfectly forgivable with some education, and the next day it’s “I never said that, the media just manipulated my words and ran with it,” and then the next day and the next day and the next… It’s hard to believe any of this nonsense even happened because there have been 15 different stories! It’s even harder to believe that they’re blaming Charles and Kate! Everything they’ve said since they’ve started talking completely contradicts what Omid wrote! And this applies to literally everything! Not just this, but with so many other things! Nothing ever lines up - nothing ever makes sense - it’s all so fake! WHO in their right mind could possibly believe any of it when the story changes every day?

Falling out of love with her has broken my heart - but now, it’s inevitable. How can I continue to defend this? How can I continue to grasp at straws trying to understand their POV when it changes every 20 minutes? I still believe that they suffered so, so much but the details are so hard to believe. The worst part? They could both literally pass a lie detector test because they’re so convinced that they’re right - they cannot see how much they contradict themselves or how, every time they speak, they lose a bit more credibility! They’re so clearly doing this for attention because nobody in their right mind believes them anymore! How could you? There’s no credibility left! The well has run dry! They’re convinced that they are “speaking their truth” but they’re lying at every turn - maybe one version of the story is the truth, but who the hell knows? Only a maximum of one story can be true but there are 15 stories for everything! God, I have lost every ounce of idolatry I once had for her and realizing it after all this time hits like a freight train.

The way Meghan went about this is literally nauseating - it’s all to grab the headlines (and, hence, the almighty dollar) while still being able to rescind and avoid a lawsuit. Omid too, he’s not innocent. They both know EXACTLY what they’re doing.

And you and I are thinking about what nobody else seems to be - where the HELL is Harry? What the fuck is he thinking? Which one of them is really doing the talking? Yesterday’s leak from the Sussex camp about “not intending to name names” quoted Meghan only - not a word about Harry. It’s his family! His father, brother, sister-in-law! Why isn’t he owning this as much as Meghan and Omid are? Not for nothing, Omid doesn’t even sound like he believes what he wrote - it sounds like he just regurgitated whatever bullshit he heard from the Sussex camp. WHY ISN’T HARRY TALKING? Why isn’t he defending his wife? Is he hiding in a basement somewhere (or, god forbid, a hotel) waiting for the storm to pass - until it comes time to ruffle the waters yet again? What is their goal? What is their LITERAL endgame? Will it continue forever? When will it stop? How far does it have to go before someone, anyone - the Waleses, the King and Queen, the media, Harry himself - forces it to stop? What the literal fuck is going on?

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

In what position do you think a (lot) smarter Aleksander would be?

This is difficult to say because it’s like at what point in time does he acquire this additional intelligence lol? Does it change his goals? Or simply how he pursues them?

Like first of all, I don’t understand why it took him that long to attempt a coup. I can sub in headcanons about how he thought as long as the Shadow Fold is a problem he can’t solve, it’s going to give the impression of an ineffective government and he doesn’t want that associated with his rule, so the Lantsovs can keep the bad PR until they find a sun summoner. But the book never actually implies that? So what’s going on? Is he just procrastinating? Does he have anxiety?

Meanwhile, why is he just sitting around waiting for a sun summoner? What if one never shows up? Has he really just been sitting around for centuries doing nothing? Like was he just going to wait endlessly with zero back up plan? Like regular people in real history have been way more effective in taking power and that’s without the aid of a personal army, immortality, a literally endless amount of time, or the unholy powers of darkness lmao.

The political backdrop of this series truly makes no sense 😭😭😭

But yeah if we’re ignoring that and just talking about how he could have been smarter once the plot took off:

The absolute biggest, most bewildering mistake he makes imo is going full gloves off insane villain mode once Alina runs away. I love it as a character beat, but it’s literally so easy to… not do that. He doesn’t attempt any damage control whatsoever. He basically confirms everything Baghra said about him, when he could have just played up the fact that Alina disappeared in the middle of the night and he’s been SO worried about her, etc etc.

From a character perspective, I think he’s just too old and impatient to bother explaining anything to anyone. But it does feel like a huge misstep that he never actually tries to convince Alina to his side in general. His high handed “I am so reasonable and you are so stupid” schtick may be great for his ego but it’s not really conducive to getting her to see his side of things.

ALSO OPTING TO KILL MAL INSTEAD OF ACTUALLY BARGAINING HIS LIFE FOR ALINA’S COOPERATION??? Once again, great character beat. But also really, really stupid of him.

And then, he somehow manages to lose the capital despite a successful coup? How?? Why??? Sir ,you have your own literal army that’s only loyal to you 😭😭😭From what I can tell he also only loses the capital because he chose to leave instead of holding it. So. Maybe don’t do that 😭😭

From S&S on, it’s harder to guess what he’s up to in real time. But the choices of his we do see continue to be colored by needless vindictiveness, petulance, and a volatile temper. He talks so much about his unending patience yet he never actually demonstrates it! Almost everything he does feels like a bad choice or a potentially clever one that he immediately undercuts because of his own shortsightedness. This remains true all the way to RoW where his plan to enter the stage as a saint is more about a single decisive dramatic moment (that goes very poorly) rather than actually putting in the legwork to leverage his following to accumulate real power or to gather an actual army. He barely even takes the time to familiarize himself with the playing field. It’s the equivalent of a get rich quick scheme 😭😭

I feel like he has pretty much every advantage throughout these books! It’s so easy to picture a scenario where he takes control of the country and keeps it, or slowly persuades Alina to listen to his points. Idk all he has to really do on that front is to wait a couple hundred years so that everyone she knows dies, and to not? commit? very obviously unnecessary and impossible to justify mass murders??

So idk “Where would he be if he was smart” winning literally everything?

[tarnishedxknight]

"You- I didn't realise you were in here, I'm sorry... I should- I'll give you- yup..." (Wanda getting flustered at Noah working out AU???)

Noah hated it here. It was even more of a farce and a clash of personalities than the Judges ever were, and until now he would have said that no group of elites could ever be as dysfunctional as they. Well, he was wrong. It was less a team than it was several incompatible individuals tossed together, except without the intricate social and political dances that kept the Judges in line and interacting constructively with each other. Being... an Avenger... what as asinine moniker that is... was doing nothing to help him calm down or process his grief at all.

Noah had survived everything in his life up until now, obviously, and he thought he could survive anything. There was still little indication that he couldn't, but this... this was far harder than anything else he'd endured in the past. Not even Basch's betrayal had rattled him as much as suddenly being thrust into a world he didn't know, with everything - and everyone - he loved suddenly gone. He grieved for Basch, which pissed him off fiercely, and strangely enough he had finally begun grieving for Drace as well. It was as if, once that door of emotions had been opened, any and all pending and repressed issues forced their way through it as well. But nothing was hurting him more right now... than losing Larsa.

And... to what? He didn't know. Did the boy die at twelve without him there to protect him? Did he make it to adulthood? If so, how far into it did he live? Did he grow to be the incredible person Noah knew he had the potential to be? Did he change the Achadian Empire for the better and thus the course of history forever? Or... was he consumed and assimilated by the ruthless Archadian political machine that had a hand in creating him? Noah didn't know, and he never would, and that was driving him insane. Even though it made no sense and obviously he never would have done it had he remained in his own time in Ivalice, Noah somehow wished he'd told the boy how much he loved him, even if he could never have called him son. But now, that chance was lost forever, and Noah's sanity threatened to be lost with it.

Just about the only thing that helped was to attack everything in the training gym until his body was bruised and aching, his throat was parched and his tongue dry, splintered wood and plastic lay everywhere, and he was about to collapse. That's the only way sleep came to him now, was if he utterly exhausted himself to the point of not being able to stay awake. That didn't mean the nightmares still didn't find him, though.

Noah refused to work with any of the psychological evaluators. His mind was private, his own, and no one would see its inner workings unless he wished them to. These... doctors... had not earned that privilege. Being told that he would not be permitted to go on any missions until he passed a psychological evaluation and spoke to a therapist regarding his nightmares and obsessive training did nothing to deter him. There were also medical concerns, since some of his vitals were a bit out of the normal range and his eyes were an unusual color of amber. Until further notice, he was to stay in the compound until he acquiesced to these various appointments. He'd simply said, fine, and walked away.

He'd been so involved in his training, inasmuch as he could continue it how he wanted with the different and limited tools available to him, that he hadn't noticed one of the Avengers standing there. He looked up as she spoke to him, not in the mood at all to deal with anyone else.

For some reason, he couldn't snap at the woman before him as he wished to. His anger seemed to ebb the moment he saw how awkward she was. Now he was just frustrated with himself. "It is a communal gym," Noah simply said flatly. "It is my understanding that anyone may use it at any time." There was no need for her to leave just because he was there, much as he might wish to be left alone.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, for she seemed to be upset about something? And staring at him for some reason? Of course, it was completely lost on him that she was flustered and about to leave because of his appearance.

[jjraderftw]

A Silent Voice

Oh boy this masterpiece! When I saw that we had to watch this movie I was ecstatic because I had loved it the first few times I had watched it. This emotional roller coaster was one of the first quality anime I had the pleasure of watching and made me shed quite a few tears upon my viewings. Even today, I couldn’t help but feel sentimental at the events of the movie and felt all forms of butterflies in my stomach during the climax of the film. The movie tells the story of Shouya, a young bully who, with the help of other students in the class, ridicules and abuses a deaf girl named Shouko who also has trouble speaking due to her disability. The bullying torments the poor girl until she leaves school after Shouya takes it too far. His actions then caused him to lose all his friends and become the new target for ridicule. Time then skips forward 5 years and Shouya has grown up and realized that what he did was immoral and wrong. He tried to not only pay back his mom for all the money she lost paying back Shouko’s family for their expenses, but also tried mending things with Shouko herself, for closure. In the process he lost everyone and everything and became so depressed he tried to kill himself. Though, after a realization with his mom, he continues to live and amend his past by making true friends and saving Shouko from despair. I can’t possibly cover every single theme nor symbolic meaningin this movie because it would amount to an absolutely insane amount of writing and depth that may be out of the scope of this post, so I’ll be limiting my discussion to exclusively the themes of discrimination and self growth/discovery. Although it is very important to mention that each character in this movie symbolizes a different stage in life and the flaws and benefits associated with each stage. The colors, position of the characters, and role reversal paint a picture of true art that, again, I can’t possibly do justice here. Having said that, I have attached a link to a great analysis of this movie if you want some more depth.

The theme of discrimination is very obvious and prevalent in this film. The character of Shouko symbolizes and depicts those in society who are different (in this case: those with disabilities). The students in the class such as Shouya and Naoka represent general society. When Shouko first arrives in the class, the students all bat an eye at her. They see her as different and strange. He is an alien to them, and since humans hate change and things that aren’t the norm, they ridicule her. This is made even more ironic by the fact that Shouko can barely hear. To her, she believes that those around her are trying to be her friends and make an acquaintance with her despite the student saying horrible things about her. She genuinely tries to make friends with everyone but they all talk down to her and harass her. This symbolizes the real mannerisms that the bullied and discriminated against feel in real life. It’s often the case that outcasts genuinely have a good intention and just want to fit in with everyone but are unable to because of factors outside of their control. Because Shouko can’t hear, she assumes they are being friendly. Similarly, people bullied and those treated unfairly in our world are at times lured into a false sense of security before being hurt. Her lack of hearing can also symbolize talking behind one’s back which is most commonly the root cause of bullying. Later on in the film and even a bit in the beginning, we notice how Shouko’s most commonly said words are “I’m sorry.” She is unapologetically apologetic which is a common form of psychological torment. Since most people treated her badly due to something she had no control over and to her was the norm (being deaf), she believed that the reason everyone didn’t like her was because she was a bad person incapable of changing. Such isn’t the case. Many groups of people who face harassment may at times feel this way but the true root evil lies in an unchangeable societal standard. Shouko goes through many emotional issues and experiences great pain and suffering (and even tries to take her own life) because society doesn’t adapt to new people and ideas. Instead, society expects people to change for them.

In terms of self growth, the biggest example is Shouya. He quickly realizes that his mannerisms and behaviors towards Shouko were horrible and rude. He spent many years of his life feeling guilty for his actions and wanted to find a way to atone for his misdeeds. He believed for a time that he was worthless and not worthy of friends nor life. However, his mother, his friend Tomohiro (the absolute goat btw), and Shouko and her family showed him that in order to truly grow, you must look at your past and not dwell on it, but learn from it and grow. If you never change, you will stay locked in history. You will never change and become a member of the society that causes nothing but pain to others. If you don’t learn to change, you’ll never be able to experience new things and accept people who are different from you. A perfect example of someone who failed to change is Naoka. Her hatred towards Shouko never changed and she remained a hateful and mean person. As a result, people distanced themselves from her because she only attracted negativity. A person like that who stayed hateful and mean spirited can never know the true value of people because of their closed off headspace. One must recognize their faults and choose to change and learn from their mistakes. Though it can be hard, one must never run away from their problems and avoid change because it will only hurt those around you and not solve anything, bringing about more pain (something Shouko and Shouya taught each other).

Once again, I loved this movie and highly recommend it. I encourage you to watch the analysis below as it’s a great perspective on the depth this movie has.

A great analysis: https://youtu.be/xeub2gZnJC8

[captainaikus]

Okay so I just watched episode 5 and here's my review be warned it's not in order at all its literally just a stream of consciousness/rambling *clears throat*

- Love how I didn't even notice that the op didn't play until like halfway through the episode 💀 I was just that enraptured by Bachira the show 😌

- ISAGIIIII MY BABY I honestly need to talk more about him cause like I love my little mildly psychotic blueberry muffin 🥰

- I have a feeling that Isagi is gonna become an absolute beast as the story progresses because being able to access the entire battlefield is such an amazing and op skill like asjrdhfdhf and I KNOW this boy is a monster so he'll probably find a way to enhance it and I for one can't wait to see it

- I love how he was the lowest ranking and then became the highest-ranking person in the span of a few episodes but I love how it's not rushed or forced it just makes sense you know?

- And at first, I thought it was gonna be Kunigami (I love this teddy bear of a man so much, especially after episode 4) because he was the one to score the first and only goal in their last match, but then I realized that like seriously without Isagi it wouldn't have even been possible

- And I love love love love how he's the team's “one” now. Like I said it was gonna be Kunigami at first, but nope. They follow him and aim to be his rival/beat him and that just goes to show how he's already changing as a player. I'm so proud of him. 

- It's really interesting how his “monster” and ambition to become the greatest really contrast with his personality. Isagi in general is sweet and polite and quiet-mannered. When he's playing his best on the field, he's aggressive, selfish, and unyielding. A completely loose canon. For rn at least. I can't wait to see how these contrasts continue in the series. That spacial awareness shot with Isagi looming over the field with those intense eyes contrasting him sitting all tiny and cute beside Chigiri is a great example to prove my point. 

- Chigiris's injury really shocked me cause like how are you gonna participate in Blue Lock and become the greatest striker with the constant risk of losing your entire career before even being disqualified. And I'm really worried that it might be why he gets disqualified. But then I heard his reasoning. And. I. Call. Bullshit. I'm with Isag on this one. I think that instead of Chigiri looking for a reason to quit, he's actually looking for a reason to keep playing and he doesn't know that yet because it's a selfish wish he's hidden deep inside himself. But luckily for him he has colored hair, the mc took particular interest in him, and this is Blue Lock. Like hell Ego is gonna let any of them give up so easily when they all have so much potential.

- ALSO, I love how Isagis victory was portrayed. Just cold and solid and unyielding. And he enjoyed it. He enjoyed looking into the eyes of his defeated opponents. It sent chills down my spine and I can't wait to see his character development. And I knew I would love his character from the beginning because a character that starts their story from the bottom truly always has the best character development. 

- Not related to the episode, but I can't wait to see everyone's development. I already know who gonna last longer and remain solid side characters for a while. Call it observation and intuition. Here is my list in no particular order. Isagi (obv), Bachira (my baby ❤️), Kunigami (the teddy bear 🧸), and Chigiri (he's so freaking pretty like the heck). As much as I'm liking the others, I don't think they're going to last long. And thankfully this show isn't like Haulyuu in the aspect that you get to know almost every character on a personal level and then see them lose and never see them again. I don’t think I could take doing that again with this show 💀.

- Also, I love how even though it’s survival of the fittest and there can be only one winner, all of them are still bonding (except Chigiri but I’m sure he’ll come around because of Isagi) and getting to know each other. It's really adorable how each goal, no matter who made it, is still a team victory. I'm glad that they're still getting along and still getting to act like teenage boys together. 

- I already had a ship the first episode asshdgshfdhj 💀💀 but can you really blame me? It's a sports anime, they're all literally so gay. Anyways it’s Isagi x Bachira because give me the rivals-to-friends-to-lovers RN. Idk it's just something abt the friends-to-lovers trope that always hits for me and it's by far with no competition my favorite romance trope of all time. These two are the personification of leash bf x caretaker bf aehfsjfsgf. And I can't wait to see how many emotional moments they have together. Their syncing nearly every match has made me go “ASFAHDGSJGDSJGDSHGD OH MY GOD YESSSSSS” every single time without fail. This ship has already dug its claws into me. I'm so screwed lol. 

- I have seen so many pictures of and read so many x reader fics of new upcoming characters and I am so ready to meet them and fall in love with them (or hate them but that's rare) and analyze them. I wanna see the difference between the fandom versions of them that I've read so far and their canon versions, I like to think I'm pretty good at differentiating between the two versions. Again, I have avoided the heck out of spoilers but I'm particularly looking forward to meeting/getting to know Itoshi Sae (why are the red-head characters always so hot I can't AND THE TURQUOISE EYES KILL ME WHY DONT YOU UGH) a character named Rin (I’ve heard he's quite the favorite in the fandom also very much a tsundere and emotionally constipated so I am very excited to analyze this one), Oliver Aiku (I heard he's a playboy with many red flags and at first I was ohhh kay so not falling for that one but then I heard he has hair highlights like Bachira and heteromeric eyes and I shut up real quick, guess we shall see) and Reo (purple hair and tongue blep make me go heart eyes, again reminding me of Bachira, I love Bachira okay leave me alone HE FREAKING CHOSE A DOLPHIN AS HIS TOOTHBRUSH MARK I CANNOT HES TOO CUTE). 

Anyways I think that's it can't wait to watch the next episode. This show is bringing back my sports side that I developed from Haikyuu and that's partially really terrifying because I know that means I'm already unconsciously invested. But also it's probably a good thing that I'm already invested now with Tokyo Revengers ending, so like I am in desperate need of an emotional rollercoaster of a show to cope. 

*sends virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

✨ anon !! (ˊᗜˋ)

I was midway on ep 3 last night (didn't complete it but I'll probably do that today in lunch break or a free class or something) and Barou's va sounds like Aomine's. *goes to check* seems like I was right 

I lowkey enjoy playing this private game of guessing the va when I watch any anime ngl 

I'm upto date with the manga and i feel like I know too much 

bachira is sweet baby. His va did a good job ngl cause his voice is totally what I imagined when I was reading the manga

You're not wrong about Isagi cause he does go through a lot of changes with the progression of the manga... my man is not to be seen around anywhere cause its just the coaches and the players playing against each other now... I'm really looking forward to seeing Rin and Aiku (are we even surprised atp?) Yeah i totally get it. Like when it comes to bllk people have a hard time understanding the manga at times especially since the whole thing is centered around being 'devoured'; but its more like completely annihilating a person, crushing their place on the field and establishing dominance (istg ego is gonna send everyone to therapy) and its not forced; its keeping good pace with the flow of the plot

Oh yeah!! Kunigami and his left kick! I love the small conversation between him and Isagi that follows after when they're sharing a meal together ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ Isagi is what holds the team together even going ahead it is like that and it gets interesting when he joins Bastard munchen (i am hellbent on giving spoilers today ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜)

As for Chigiri; I know that he had an acl and there's a whole backstory to it as well but acl injury or rather any injury to the knee is dangerous and it can be stuck with you for life so I can understand where he comes from but at the same time he doesn't want that to repeat cause football is what caused him that injury, but Isagi is right. He can't let that one injury hold back his potential and he is pretty! Mans got a whole routine for his hair (つ﹏⊂) princess chigiri (they literally call him that later)

I don't ship characters together for some reason...? Unless its like super obvious like Victor and Yuri; I'm not trying to start anything here, people can ship whoever they want and all, but it went overboard with the bnha fandom with everyone harassing the author himself to make their ships sail; meanwhile I'm doing selfships and pairing people with their fav characters (Ｔ▽Ｔ) and I love doing it as well Itoshi Sae huh? I see your point though cause ngl red hair and blue eyes are definitely something like Vulcan from fire force :

I still can't get over the calendar that they made. me a, Benimaru fan

The story between Sae and Rin broke my heart though; Sae was so mean to him and he shattered Rin

At this point I've said it one too many times. Aiku is my favorite along with other bllk boys, Imma stop here cause I will not shut up about this man but it seems to establish the fact that I have a type toxic

and i plan on releasing something I've been working on for him soon

and you can see my obsession with this man in my sequel too

I wuv and miss him so much o(╥﹏╥)o [It seems like I have a fixation on him; my baby I s away training with the italian team and i haven't seen him a good 2 months now (ToT)]

Reo reminds me of Kise; actually a lot of characters are coinciding with characters from other universes

As of now I'm not really invested in anything except reading a lot; maybe I should pick on watching a series that I had left and I'm thinking if i should change the theme of my blog again but its pink and I like it (the impulse tho)

[shiroishirie]

CONTEMPLATION OF COFFEE

You soak the amount of coffee grounds for one cup with the water for two cups, as if you want to drink two cups of ordinary water, but at the same time, it seems like you just want to drink one regular cup of coffee. So you pour the extra cup’s worth of coffee into the void, sipping the over-extracted coffee that’s left. The taste and flavor aren’t as good as you expected, but not worse either. You feel a kind of dull satisfaction, and after drinking, it doesn’t seem to make you feel any better than before. So you leave the remaining half of the coffee there and move on to do the next thing, which is just repeating the exact same process.

And now, you do want to do something, but as you rise from your seat and haven’t fully stood up yet, the moment you glance around your surroundings, you lose your sense of purpose. Everything around you appears in low-saturation colors. The view of the low-rise buildings and skyscrapers seems indistinguishable.

The place you’re in indeed embodies the concept of “nothingness.” It is neither something that transcends existence or non-existence, nor something that speaks of everything or nothing. It seems like a place where any action that occurs within it naturally leads to half-hearted outcomes. It represents a chaotic blandness, making people experience a sense of indifference without having felt much. It allows people to reach the end without needing to go through much, and to look back at all the paths they have never truly experienced but have already seen. Here, you feel as though you must make a choice, but your past does not think so. However, it will not tell you anything, for at this moment, your speech is already filled with all forms of denial and affirmation, logically fixing you at the midpoint of everything.

So you know that this choice is actually inconsequential, because no matter what, all choices will develop in the direction you expect. At this point, you have no expectations of any of it. Hope and despair only make you feel physically nauseous because you have already indulged too much in expectations.

So you simply stand here, or walk in various directions with the same feeling. Everything is just in flux, not giving you enough peace or intense turmoil; what you see is merely the eternal motion of the tides. You don’t care whether you are old or still young; you still feel weary, but not more or less than you did twenty or thirty years ago.

At the same time, you view the past that you have never reached from the future you have already arrived at. The colors remembered from the first six or seven years of arriving here still clash with the present. You seem to know that this is your homeland, the land beneath your feet now, but you are unable to make even the slightest connection to those memories. Yet you are indeed unchanged from how you were back then: everything outside of yourself continues to be as unpredictable as ever, while you persist in observing it all in the same unchanging manner.

You can indeed do anything you are capable of at any time, but it seems that this requires a reason. Yes, at least in the first six or seven years of memory, this reason was undoubtedly present. It still exists now, but it seems to have left you while you are still awake, though you often return to it, not out of boredom but because you no longer find it tiresome. Indeed, what you are weary of is the emptiness of either having or not having a reason — the reluctance when the reason is withdrawn and the dissonance when it returns. And it is within this weariness of having or not having that you come to or leave its presence.

You know that the reason has always been present; it is always in your field of vision, just that its color constantly changes. You see it as resembling the color you desire, so you start working with it, until one day its color contrasts with your work. At that point, you cannot recognize its color, and so you leave it, leaving your work behind as well. Indeed, you cannot recognize its color, just as you cannot distinguish colors outside of what you are currently focusing on. Apart from the colors you hold, other colors are always difficult to discern due to their low saturation. And by visually comparing them with the hues you are focused on, you bring those colors, which only seem similar, into your field of attention.

Thus, the colors you pay attention to keep changing. Your past becomes tinted with these ever-changing colors, and the entire strip of your past is just a series of snapshots in time — a ribbon of uneven, disorderly, random, or perhaps chaotic color patterns. Yet you feel that these have no more color than the colors of the air at this very moment; they seem indistinguishable from it.

Thus, the air reveals the haze that no longer exists, once tangible but now appearing before your eyes.

Only in the haze, does reality become truthful; colors might be overlooked in the contrast of saturation and instead be expressed through the contrast of grayscale. Saturation is perceived by us, who already faded in grayscale, and the depicted colors are less likely to appear as gray and white as a freshly finished painting. There seems to be something within, yet it is forever unclear. And the thought that you indeed lost something, but never desire to see it clearly.

[saintcarlyon]

thoughts about why volunteer participation in volunteer-run organizations tend to lose or have trouble recruiting volunteers:

unwillingness to change procedures even if it’s more efficient, more effective, or out of the preceding boards’ skillset. not all changes are sustainable but many new members will perceive the inability to continually review, refine, and update policies and procedures poorly.

poor onboarding - volunteers are workers donating their time and talents. give them an overview of the role’s expectations, organizational culture (you still have one!), potential benefits (mentoring? shirts? a client’s smile?) and an outline of how their involvement can grow.

reverse ageism - doesn’t apply to all organizations but i’ve seen enough run by baby boomers who continually rely on younger members to utilize technology and do admin work. yet they discourage involvement in strategy, dismiss ideas, or won’t do succession planning. when a successor is chosen there is a preference to similarly aged individuals. even when a younger person may be more than qualified to do so*.

weird emphasis on charisma and wealth, often expected to come together. if the new members are low income or middle class, they’re rarely invited to learn or join leadership. often put to roles or tasks that are considered menial.

and of course, discrimination (usually subconscious) of people of color, LGBtQ+, and persons with disabilities.

founder syndrome and other modes of organizational structures that focus on one leader and discourage consensus building. similar to many of the above but can happen in homogenous group.

there’s often two kinds of passionate volunteers leading these groups: those who bring professional skills but not professional manners or wonderful manners but won’t bring professional skills.

no goals for the year. the organization may have a vision, a mission, and services they will provide. goals help volunteers put their work into perspective and a sense of progress. even saying, “we aim to reduce people seeking services through longterm assistance by 10%” or “we would like to reach 50 members this year.”

or the goals are set but no planning on how to achieve them. often they set the goal but rely on the same practices or wait until its last minute to figure out who is doing what.

no plan for or engagement with the overly enthusiastic newbie. maybe the current members are cynical, burned out, or busy. either way, the newbie will perceive lack of connection and activity. funnel that energy into asking they make some social media posts promoting a program. ask they sign up a small chunk of time for an event or task. invite them to the next meeting asap.

*perversely there is a trend for these smaller orgs to hire part-time staff to manage operations with a Director or Manager title yet who are younger and inexperienced. it’s likely not a benevolent reason if their board or executive committee doesn’t have individuals of similar age and lack of professional experience.

[mxstball]

[Rising Kingdom] The Potential to Protect

Heidi and Friede returned to meditating together. Heidi has since lost track of the time that she's been there, even though she could sense that time flowed much differently here than it did elsewhere. Heidi's continued to clear her thoughts and emptied all worries.

As Heidi meditated, she felt an energy encircling her. It didn't have any form or color, but she sensed that it was much different than anything else that she's encountered before. What was this...?

Heidi was hesitant to do anything until she heard a familiar voice.

Reach out. Touch it.

Heidi took a deep breath. Yes, mom. Heidi mentally reached out to accept the energy.

.....

....

Lacey opened her eyes and stood. She looked around her. Despite the water raised to her the sole of her shoe, she was not wet. Despite the cloak of night, she could see perfectly...

...and on the other side, she could see her target --

Lacey held her hand out and used her new Creation abilities to fashion a sharp blade as she slowly walked over to Friede. Friede was motionless, as she was in deep meditation. The closer Lacey approached, the more she analyzed the battlefield. This wasn't going to be easy, but this was the one chance that she had to stop Friede...

For her peace.

For Melony.

...For Lauren.

She must kill Friede here to protect her sisters, before it's too late.

Lacey swung the blade, making direct contact with and cutting through Friede's neck--

....

....!!!

It burned! The new energy... burned to her very core! Heidi was starting to lose concentration as her breathing quickened. It was liek she was being burned alive by the energy -- far worse than the day of her corruption! "Ngh--"

You're doing great, Heidi. Absorb the energy, but flow with it. Learn how it courses through you and go with it.

Heidi nodded as she analyzed the energy coursing through her. She felt its flow. She opened herself and allowed for it to course through her more. The burn was still there, but, as she opened herself more, she felt less and less of it.

Strange. For some reason, it felt... familiar. The energy was foreign to her but as it embodied her, she felt as if she had known it all along. What... was this?

....

....

What... was this Arceus?

The body that she hacked was gone in an instant, but Lacey still sensed Friede around. Lacey tapped the blade, causing it to disappear. "..." Lacey opened her hand and summoned the Move Gun before channeling her Shadow Energy within it. She slowly walked forward.

"You must be the Shadow side of Heidi, hm?"

"My name is Lacey." She pointed the gun at the newly appeared figure.

"Well, hello, Lacey. It's good to meet you. You're trying to kill little old me?"

"Don't play stupid, Friede."

Lacey used Shadow Blast at Friede! The attack missed!

"You knew this was coming the moment you allowed me in."

....

....

You knew what this was the moment you allowed it in, didn't you?

"....." Heidi nodded. There was a reason why it was familiar. This was Infinity Energy in its purest form -- not interpreted into Mega Evolution or Gigantamax or Z-moves.

...This was the unadulterated energy of Arceus itself.

Heidi felt herself in a flowing river, with her floating along it. She could feel the neergy all around her, greeting her on all sides... welcoming her into its presence. She welcomed it. She lowered herself in the sea of energy and let the energy enter her once more.

I can tell that you have gone through so much before now, Heidi. Things have... changed between us, haven't they...?

Heidi nodded.

I see. And have you reconciled with your family?

Heidi let in more energy. The burning was gone. All she could feel was bliss. "[...What's left of them.]"

...was it because of me? You can be honest....

"[....]"

....

....

"It's because of you." Lacey pointed and shot one more time.

Friede dodged just in time.

"It's all because of you, Friede." Lacey grit her teeth. "It's because of you that the Weather Wars existed. You merely wished for the strongest creatures to stand atop the rest. Was Heidi's mother's death merely collateral damage to you then, Friede? And yet now because you wish to eradicate humanity, you wish to destroy my world and kill my sister---"

Lacey used Shadow Blast!

"...." Friede swatted the Shadow Blast away.

"...You were always so selfish, Friede... imposing your ethics on others in a feeble attempt to 'protect' us all. You always think that you know best but can't seem to see the consequences for your actions."

Lacey used Shadow Sky!

Friede pulled out an umbrella. "...Lacey...."

....

....

"[...Mom....]" Heidi closed her heart from the energy for just a little longer.

I... want to tell you something.

"[What is it?]"

I just wanted you to know that I'm proud of you.

"[Hm?]"

You've been gone for so long, and yet, despite your disappearance... despite my opposition... despite the death of so many of your siblings... despite the increase in responsibility and whatever it took for you to become an Arceus, you have stayed true to yourself, nay, even discovered things about yourself that was in you all along. Your path wasn't easy, and yet you've never faltered.

"[....]" Heidi was fighting tears. The only thing holding her back was the energy inside of her.

...You must promise me something, Heidi.

"[Anything, mom.]" Heidi was fighting tears.

No matter who encounters you. No matter who tries to change your mind, you must promise to remain your whole self. You must fight for what you believe in, and work to enact the future that you wish to see in the world. Many are counting on you, and if not, then they will soon. Be the light that guides other to follow, so you may make the realm a better place.

"...." Heidi took a breath in as she considered Friede's words. The energy was starting to dizzy her, but her thoughts were clear... and her answer clearer.

"...I promise."

Heidi opened her heart to the energy--

....

....

....

Lacey was panting as she knelt in front of Friede. Lacey overexerted herself after what seemed like weeks of non-stop fighting, and yet not a single hit was dealt to that woman. Did she just want to prove a point? Was she just waiting to end her? Why won't she fight back? Why can't this just be over?

Her heart may be closed, but the anger and frustration she felt was real. The fear of losing the one she called her sister was real. The insecurity of losing everything was real. She didn't want to die. She didn't want anyone she vowed to protect to die. She had no choice but to fight -- to try to end everything.

But you do have a choice, Lacey.

"...?" She didn't. If she had a choice, she wouldn't be so entrenched in fear--

You don't need to fear. We can protect everyone together.

"...." But... But she had no one. Lauren was too weak to protect herself. Melony lost to Friede once already. Rayquaza isn't made out for a world-ending threat like Friede, even with Zinnia's help.

Individually, yes... but together? We're stronger than any threat that comes our way.

"...."

....

....

....That is, if you want to trust me -- no -- trust us.

"...." Lacey rose and turned around. "...And what makes you trust that we can do it, Heidi?"

"...Because I trust us... all of us. We all can make it through together and protect this world from anything, Lacey." Heidi nodded. "Fighting mom here won't change our situation, but you and I? We'll protect the ones we love together, and no one will stand in our way. So, what do you say?" Heidi outstretched a hand to Lacey.

"..."

"...." But working with her will surely make sure she'll--

"--you won't disappear, Lacey. Don't even think I'd consider that. You're my sister, just as much as you're Lauren's sister. We're in this together."

"...."

"...."

"...." Lacey sighed. She surrenders. Very well, Heidi. Lacey will trust that the two of you will do this together. Lacey grabbed Heidi's outreached hand.

....

....

....

....!

[thetoxicgamer]

Dota 2 update resolves Watcher color confusion

A new Dota 2 update has arrived with a number of improvements for the game's most bothersome problems. Dota 2 New Frontiers' recent release significantly changed Valve's MOBA game, but some of the modifications and additions have also led to new issues. Thankfully, these Dota 2 patch notes solve some of the most significant issues, like the new Watchers' somewhat perplexing team colours. If you’ve not had a chance to check out New Frontiers yet, Dota 2 Watchers are basically neutral wards that you can capture for your team, granting vision for a limited time or until they’re turned off by the enemy team. You can also turn them all to your side simultaneously by defeating Roshan, adding yet another bonus to Dota 2’s biggest, baddest world boss. However, for some reason, they were colored based on the team controlling them – meaning they’d be teal when held by the Radiant side, and red when held by the Dire side. While this makes sense, it doesn’t actually match up to the way the minimap colors work, and I found myself double-taking on numerous occasions thinking one was assigned to the enemy team when it was in fact ours. Thankfully, that’s now been changed and their color will now be determined by whether they’re on your team or the enemy team. There’s also plenty more handy updates in the patch notes, which you can read below. Auto-selected summons will no longer cause your shop UI to close, and items such as Wisdom Runes and Tormentor will ignore players who have abandoned when deciding who to grant their bonuses to. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2gaw3wc_P4 Dota 2 patch notes – May 30, 2023 Here are the full Dota 2 patch notes for the May 30 update: -  Watchers are now colored based on whether they are controlled by your team (matching minimap coloration), rather than whether they are controlled by Radiant and Dire. - Auto-selected summoned units no longer close the shop UI. - Wisdom Runes no longer consider players who abandoned when finding a second player to grant XP. - Tormentor no longer considers players who abandoned when finding a player to grant shard. - Tormentor no longer considers heroes who have no shard upgrades/abilities when finding a player to grant shard. - Fixed a bug that caused Tormentors to not play their idle or flinch animations. - Fixed a bug where a hero would have to have a second Dust available in order for the damage or movement speed penalty to apply to enemies encountering the Dust. - Fixed Alchemist’s Unstable Concoction Throw not triggering Phylactery. - Fixed an inconsistency where Dark Willow’s Shadow Realm would not behave as if the unit were invisible for a number of abilities. - Fixed a crash when Earth Spirit creates many Stone Remnants and then casts Magnetize affecting at least one enemy unit. - Fixed Earthshaker leap being interrupted if he is debuff immune and gets a stunned applied on him (that does not pierce debuff immunity). - Fixed Gyrocopter’s Flak Cannon modifier not updating its attacks remaining when refreshed. - Fixed Hoodwink’s Acorn Shot, Medusa’s Mystic Snake, Tinker’s Laser, and Zeus’ Arc Lightning not properly applying when casting hero has a Phylactery and a low-health unit is targeted. - Fixed Legion Commander’s Overwhelming Odds radius indicator showing the incorrect radius. - Fixed Ogre Magi lvl25 talent 17% Chance for Fireblast on Attack no longer applying if the player buys and then sells/unequips Aghanim’s Scepter. - Fixed a bug with Outworld Destroyer’s Astral Imprisonment where, when a stack of Astral Imprisonment debuff was removed, mana as well as max mana might be restored. - Fixed Shadow Fiend’s Necromastery tooltip incorrectly stating losing 40% of souls on death, when the real value is 30%. - Fixed Spirit Breaker Charge of Darkness occasionally continuing past death, leading to the ability being on indefinite cooldown and no longer usable. - Fixed Eimer Hillburrow courier not being selectable. - Fixed various tooltip issues. - Fixed various relics. If you’re just jumping in, check out the best Dota 2 heroes for beginners and beyond. Alternatively, you might want to mix things up with the best Dota 2 custom games, or look ahead to the year’s biggest tournament, because The International 2023 is headed to Seattle. Read the full article

[skyfallslayer]

Over The Edge and Into The Hands of Evil (One-Shot)

(Bucky x Daughter!Reader, Steve x Child!Reader)

Author Notes: For some reason my account got deleted, and then it was returned to me. But all my posts have been deleted, so I'm reposting this series. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: At the age of 6, (Y/N) Barnes loses her dad to war. A few months later, she's captured by HYDRA to be their new weapon. To her shocking surprise, she isn't the only one being held hostage. But how long can she remember him for before he's wiped away? (Set after the first Captain America Movie).

MASTERLIST

Main Masterlist

Warning: Child Abuse, Blood, Vomiting, Self-Doubt, Implied/References to Depression, Unwanted Touching, Strong Language, Torture, Brainwashing, Murder, HYDRA being HYDRA, Possible Inaccurate Russian (I used Google Translate).

(Also, all Gifs are NOT mine)

(Y/N) BARNES WAS BORN ON FEBRUARY 23rd, 1940….)

.

.

.

...Bucky would have fallen back in shock if it wasn’t for the small bundle in his arms. His ex-girlfriend had just said some words that he didn’t need to hear right now.

No it wasn’t, ‘Can we get back together? I made a mistake’.

Or It wasn’t, ‘The Baby isn’t yours’.

No it was-

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked, disbelief etched in his words. There was also a sense of anger and betrayal.

She couldn’t be serious...

Right?

He watched the woman standing in front of him roll her eyes, snatching her purse from his living room’s couch while responding, “I don’t want her. I only had her because you wanted to keep the baby after finding out I was pregnant.”

He nearly doubled over when he heard the disgust in her voice. “So you’re just going to leave?” Bucky asked, seeing his ex now putting on her winter coat. “But our daughter needs a mother figu-”

“YOUR daughter.” His ex snapped. “That baby…” She points furiously. “That baby is a spitting image of you. All the way from the shape of her face to the way she smiles. Everything. Which is fine by me, I don’t want someone looking like me out in the world.”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak as he followed her behind as she walked towards the front door. Unfortunately, she beats him to it. “As for a mother figure, you’ve got three sisters and a mom. That baby can pick up skills from them.”

She swings the door open, letting in the cold breeze of February. Snow droplets flew in, sticking to her clothes. Bucky immediately stood sideways and drew you as far away as he could from the freezing air. Was she trying to freeze you?!

“Becky!” He called out, stopping her on the porch.

She wasn’t even going to look back at him, wasn’t she? Or even look at you?

He doesn’t know why but his voice cracked, and although he and his ex relationship was always rocky, and they both knew that whatever was between them wasn’t going to work out, but he still doesn’t want her to leave him alone with a one week old.

“Come on…” He continues, quietly. “At least stay for a couple months until I can do this on my own.” His lip quivered slightly. “Please?”

He felt you shift a bit in his arms, probably from the weather, and waited for her to turn around…

But she never did.

“Goodbye, James.” Becky said, before trailing across the snow covered path to the sidewalk.

Bucky watches her disappear into the night, his feet glued to the floor even when part of his mind told him to run after her. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t want to go after her, thinking that maybe she’ll change her mind if actually begs, but the mere thought went out the door when you started to get fussy and cry.

Something deep within him kicked in, probably that parental instincts he’s heard about from his own parents, and all his attention was turned to you cradled in a lilac colored blanket.

“Hey…” He whispered, readjust his hold so that he could gently brush their-

No.

That’s officially gone out the window.

It’s his daughter.

He readjust his hold so that he could gently brush HIS daughter’s cheek. To brush your cheek like a soft paint brush across a canvas. “Hey. Don’t cry.” He says, soothingly.

He makes a soft shushing sound as he closes the front door with his hip, before carefully guiding himself to sit near the fireplace. He lays you cautiously in his lap, almost in awe as he sees your eyes peeking open for the first time.

(Y/E/C) eyes.

So beautiful like the world itself. He almost wanted to start taking pictures.

(Maybe later though)

He chuckles sadly, tears in his own as he brushes your cheeks again. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I got you.” He said, smiling. “I got you, sweetie.”

You cooed quietly, staring back at him with a bit of curiosity. The look you were giving him melted his heart, but it also made him feel like he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry…” He croaks, sniffling. “It looks like it’s just going to be me and you, doll. I’m so sorry.”

You made the cute sounds that took his breath away again, and if it wasn’t for his military training, he probably wouldn’t have even heard someone tumbling down the stairs. Bucky glances at the living room entrance, finding a certain skinny blond man that was his best friend. He saw his chest move slightly, and could almost hear him panting from here.

“S-Sorry.” Steve said, leaning against the frame. “Your mom sent me down here when we heard everything go quiet.”

Bucky smiled a little. “She got worried?”

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles. “She wanted to make sure you hadn’t run off with her grandchild.”

The brunette shakes his head. “That sounds like my mother.” He turns his attention back on you, but from the corner of his eye he could see his friend shifting uncomfortably, almost hesitantly, in his spot. His smile grows. “Come here.”

“What?” The blond said, genuinely confused.

“Come here, Steve. You can see her.”

He stiffens up a bit, looking unsure. “Are you… sure?” Steve asked, pointing towards the stairs in the hallway. “I-I shouldn’t be the one seeing your baby first, shouldn’t I-”

“Get your ass over here, Rogers.” Bucky said, almost wishing he could free his hand up and drag him by the ear (he was always so timid and too cautious sometimes).

With a second thought to question his best friend’s choice, Steve wandered over and took a seat on the floor next to Bucky’s chair. He leans in close, examining the small bundle in the soldier’s arms.

Steve’s big blue eyes lit up with joy. “Wow, Buck. She’s adorable.” He said, as you scrunch up your nose to show off your cute, chubby cheeks.

“She is.” Bucky said, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes again. “Wanna hold her?”

He held his hands up in defense almost immediately after those words were spoken. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t.”

“I trust you.” Bucky holds you out a little, a reassuring look on his face.

Steve raises a cautious eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll show you.”

Bucky then takes his time showing Steve how to hold you, giving him pointers and readjusting everyone once and awhile until he has a good hold on you. The blond’s nerves seemed to vanish into thin air when he started to see that you were looking at him with the same curious eyes you made at your father. Those eyes of yours could melt anyone’s hearts at this point.

Steve chuckles, and grins as he gets butterflies in his stomach from you. “What’s her name?” He asks, sparing a glance at your dad for a split second. “Did Becky ever give her one?”

Bucky shakes his head sadly. “No.” He said, his voice feeling rather small at the moment. “No she didn’t. I’m tasked with giving her one.”

“Well have you thought of any?”

“I have and I think…” He takes another good look at you, making sure the name was the right choice. “I was thinking… (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah. (Y/N).” Bucky tests it out his lips as other names start to form. “(Y/N)... Stevie Barnes.”

Steve looks up in surprise. “Stevie?” He asks.

He smiles. “Well, I heard Stevie is the girl version of Steve so…”

“Huh.” The blond looks back down at you, his smile returning. “(Y/N) Stevie Barnes. Not bad, Buck.”

Your father looked at him teasingly. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Steve replies, holding back a laugh as he watches you start to drift back to sleep. “I’m happy for you, man.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

A few moments passed before you were carefully placed back in your father’s arms, where all he did was stare back at you as you pulled yourself to sleep. His happy face started to falter, and there was a heavy amount of doubt in his ocean blue orbs.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Steve.” He finally admits before swallowing the lump in his throat. He soon felt his friend’s hand on his leg.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky. You’ve got your family and you’ve got me.” Steve said, honestly. “And you know this. However, don’t doubt yourself, you got this. You’re going to be a great dad.”

Bucky’s lip curled up a bit, not caring that he was about to cry again. “Steve Rogers. The man who always knows what to say.”

“What can I say? I try.”

“And you think I’ll be great? Even with me being a soldier and everything else that comes with it?”

“I know you’ll be great. I know you’ll do anything to make sure she’ll be okay. So don’t worry too much, okay? (Y/N)’s going to be lucky she has you.”

Bucky hums, truly grateful for a friend like him.

And without an ounce of hesitation, he bends down slowly and kisses your sleeping forehead.

“I already loved you so much, (Y/N). I hope you realize that.” He whispers. “And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.”

He swears at that moment he saw you smile.

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(YOU UNKNOWINGLY LOST SOMETHING IN THE EARLY SPRING OF 1943…)

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...You dove around your grandparents and aunts’ legs as you made your way out of the house, ignoring how your father’s duffle bag was on the porch. You stumble around a bit on your four year old legs, before finding the person you wanted to see.

“Uncle Steve!!!” You yelled, throwing your arms up.

“Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, teasingly. He wastes no time to scoop you up, and carefully holds you close to him (it’s been years and he’s still afraid he’ll drop you). “Have you gotten smaller?”

You scrunched up your nose at him, shaking your head. “No.” You giggled at the silly nickname, and it all was because you were pocket size.

“No?” Steve said, tilting his head. “Are you sure?”

You giggled again. “Yes.”

He smiles. “Just checking.”

A sigh came from inside, before the two of you saw your father stumbling out of his parents house, all dressed in his neatly ironed uniform. He looked almost miserable as he gazed at his bag on the porch.

“Ready?” Steve asked, readjusting his hold on you as he frowned himself.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky mumbled, not ready for what’s yet to come. However, when he faces you his whole expression changes for the better. “And there’s my little girl!”

“Papa!” You yelled, holding your arms out. He takes you in his arms, hugging you gently. “Are you leaving, Papa?”

“Oh, baby doll, I am.” He said, pulling back to look at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He taps your nose. “Okay?”

You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Good.” He gives you a big kiss on your head, before peppering you with some more making you laugh. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

He gives you one more kiss and one more hug before transferring you over back to Steve. They both give each other a strong pat on the back, smiling bittersweetly.

“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve said, trying to hide his concern.

“I will. You too. The both of you.” Bucky said, grabbing his bag and making sure his voice was stern.

“We will. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you.”

He bid them goodbye, and you and Steve watched him walk down the path to the military jeep parked nearby. It was chilling almost to watch, and your four year old mind couldn’t comprehend the heavy feeling in the back of your mind.

“Uncle Steve?” You asked, prying his eyes away from the moving vehicle.

“Yeah?” He said, softly.

“I thought you told me you were going with him?”

His eyes look away from you, almost like he was recollecting himself before giving you his answer. “I am. But not yet.” He replies, honestly. His orbs finally meet yours again. “Not until I know you’re okay.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.

“Sure am.” He smiles. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to see what Grandpa and Grandma are doing?”

Your eyes light up at their names. “Yes!!!”

He laughs at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s go see them.”

Till this day, you still couldn’t piece together the horrible feeling in your gut.

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(YOUR WHOLE WORLD WOULD CHANGE IN MID-JANUARY 1945…)

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...You were confused beyond words. You were just sitting in your room, doodling in a book one of your aunts gave you, when you heard someone come inside the house. You listen closely, hearing your aunts and grandparents filling up with joy, but then,

There were sobs and people bawling.

You were six years old and could finally understand what emotions meant. So when you heard pure joy turn into sadness, you knew something was wrong. Curiosity got the best of you, it always had, something that your father told you to express but with caution. However, you couldn’t help it, your family was in pain for some reason, and you knew you needed to know why.

So as quietly as you could, you navigate yourself out of your room, moving slowly so the floorboards wouldn't creek down the hall. With your hand on the wall for support, you stop at the corner where it meets the stairs to listen in.

Your family was most definitely crying over something, but all you could make out when you peaked a little was your grandmother’s feet, who seemed to be leaning on her husband.

Odd. Was all you could think. Especially when you heard the next few words out of the blue.

“What are we going to tell (Y/N)?” Rebecca said, choking up.

You furrowed your brows together, and took a step to see what was going on, only for the step on the stair to creek loudly. You quietly gasp, and quickly hide behind the wall again. You heard some of your family gasp as well as the air felt thicker.

“S-Son…” Your Grandpa begins, tripping over his words with a shake in his voice. You didn’t like the way he sounded so broken. It certainly didn’t sit right with you.

“I’ll handle it.” Steve said, surprising you.

You didn’t even know he was here.

No wonder your family was overjoyed.

Yet…

Why are they so sad now?

You only peek around the bend again when you hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and sure enough there was your Uncle dressed in an odd military uniform (seriously, why is it all red and blue?), and looking way more buff than you remember. You felt so happy that he was here, not seeing him for nearly two years, and was about to jump up and give him a hug when you saw his face.

Depression.

You’ve never seen that once on him.

“Uncle Steve?” You said puzzledly, as he made the last step.

Why was he here and not your father? Was your dad hurt and that’s why he was here?

Yeah, that must be it. That’s why your Uncle looks so sad.

He smiles bittersweetly. “Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, holding out his hand. “I need to talk to you, okay?”

You frown at the fake sounding joy in his voice, but still complied. “Okay…”

You take his hand, and he guides you back to your bedroom. You could tell by the way he slowed in his steps that he was taking in its appearance. But who could blame him? The last time he saw you was when you were four, and your room held nothing but little toys and dolls, and had little bows and dresses lying around. But now he saw that you were a little bit older, and sure you still have some of the same things, he now noticed you were in school with your bag, and your artistic skills seemed to have grown with the doodles all over your room.

The appearance hurt him way more than he thought it would have. Especially when he knew his friend wouldn’t be able to see this.

He sits on your bed, and you sit next to him with your legs crossed as you wait for him to speak.

“(Y/N)?” Steve begins, masking the fear in his voice pretty well. “You’re a big girl, right?” You nodded slowly, preparing yourself with the news that your father was hurt. “And big girls can handle big news, right?” You nodded again, more eagerly this time. Even if your dad was hurt, you could finally see him after all this time. You honestly couldn’t wait for those words to come out. “Well…”

You watch him suddenly stop, and swallow hard. Now you were officially getting worried. “Steve?” You said as you sag your shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

He seemed to have gotten paler the moment you said that. “(Y/N), your dad isn’t coming home.”

You froze instantly. “What?” You mumbled, and luckily Steve heard it with his enhanced hearing (although he didn’t like the tiniest break in it).

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but he’s not coming home.”

You knew what he meant without even saying it.

No.

There was no way that was true.

You start shaking your head. “No…” You stated, standing your ground.

Steve sighed. He knew this was coming. “(Y/N)-”

“No.” You start shaking your head even more. “No!! My daddy can’t be gone. You’re lying!! You’re really lying!!” You couldn’t stop from the dam breaking, staining your clothes and cheeks. “Please, please, tell me you’re lying, Uncle Steve!!!”

You started to choke and sob on your own, and you somehow ended up tangled in his arms. He held you so unbelievably close, gently rubbing circles on your back. Steve left his chin on top of your head, and you buried your own into his neck, suddenly clenching his uniform with your small hands.

“It’s okay, (Y/N). I promise, you’re not going to go anywhere without a family.” Steve whispered, staring at a familiar blanket tucked in a corner of your room.

“Did it hurt him?” You asked, sniffling.

Steve’s heart skipped a beat, recalling as he was in fingertips’ reach of grabbing your dad’s hand, only for him to fall in the icy ravine below. But he couldn’t tell you that. He couldn’t tell you that he died by falling from a train.

So he lied.

“No.” He replies, guilt eating at him. “No it didn’t.” He swallows again, mentally cursing that his mask was slipping. “You’ll be okay. Your father will always be with you in your heart.”

Your frown against his chest, starting to shake again. “But I don’t want him there, I want him here.”

Steve frowns too. “Me too, kiddo…” He whispers.

And the dam broke again.

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(AND IT WAS A FEW MONTHS LATER WHEN YOUR LIFE WOULD ‘END’...)

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...You twisted and turned in your bed for the millionth time tonight. You would curl up and then uncurl before clenching the covers for some comfort. Normally you would sleep with ease, but these last few months have been different. Your Uncle was away to finish the war, and out of desperation you made him promise to come back to you. You had given him your liliac blanket as a reminder of his promise, something that held a lot of meaning to you, something that helped fight nasty dreams away.

But now they plagued you and no one was there to comfort you.

Your Dad was gone. Your grandparents and aunts could barely look at you because of the resemblance. You may be only six years old, but you knew they were keeping you away. Long hours at school, along with long after school activities. It was no brainer what they were trying to do. So for comfort? That was something you couldn’t get right now as you continued to hope Steve would come through the door one day and make everything better.

You sighed quietly, and turned again. Why was it so hard to fall asleep?

As you tucked your head between your pillow and mattress, that’s when you heard a loud thug coming from downstairs.

You sat up in your exhausted state, but curiosity sparked you again. Which one of your relatives could be up at this hour? Furrowing your brows, and removing the covers, as you touched the wooden floor with your bare feet. You slowly walked across your room, opening the door to peak out into the hall. You saw nothing, and started trailing down it, only for your feet to get caked in something hot and sticky.

Frozen in fear, you peer at your feet, and with a slight squint in your eyes, you see the color red. Your breath caught in your throat, as you watched as the blood from your feet was coming from a bedroom next to the stairs.

Your Grandparents.

As nausea took over you, you took a few small steps back, ready to run away from whatever was going on. Where were your Aunts? Were they downstairs and that's who made the noise?

Yeah, that must be it.

You were ready to turn and head down, when you were met with two figures coming up. Two big, tall and scary looking men with guns in their hands. They gawked at you like a piece of meat.

“Другой?” One of them asked in a thick accent, and spoke in a language you did not understand. (*Another one?)

You stiffened when the man aimed his gun at you, but you seemed to be saved when his partner waved him off.

“Подожди. Я хочу, чтобы ты на нее посмотрел.” The partner said, calmly. (*Hang on. I want you to look at her)

“Почему?” (*Why?)

“Вы это видите? Сходство?” (*Do you see that? The resemblance?)

The man looked confused. “Какой?” He said, making a face. (*What?)

The other man sighed, and hit his partner in the shoulder. “Она похожа на Зимнего солдата. Это то, что мы ищем.” He explains, gesturing to you almost lovingly. (*She looks like the Winter Soldier. This is the one we’re looking for)

Now he seemed to understand. “О нет, я понимаю.” (*Oh, Now I see)

“Давай схватим ее.” (*Let’s grab her)

You backed away when they started approaching you again. And when one of them decided to lunge for you, you made a break for your bedroom. Heavy footsteps followed behind you, as you tried to slam the door shut, but one of the men ended up stopping it with his hand. He pushed it wide open, and you stumbled backwards into your wall, cowering in fear.

You ended up throwing anything you could get your hands on at them, but it had no effect as you started to get all teary eyed.

“N-No…” You whispered. “G-Go away…”

“Простите, красавица.” (*Sorry, Beautiful)

And then one of the men’s hands were around your throat, squeezing tight. Your tiny hands start clawing at theirs, as dark spots danced around your vision.

You couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

And then…

The darkness came.

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(AND THEN YOU BECOME ‘REBORN’ OVER THE GRUELING MONTHS...)

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...You didn’t want to do it, but you had no choice. You obeyed the best you could to avoid the horrible touches the doctors and handler would give you, or the slaps and beat downs you would get intensely.

You obeyed even when you didn’t want to, because you were scared to lose your life in a place like this. You still had hope Steve would come for you like the hero he was, but a small part of you knew it wasn’t going to come true. Especially when they started the touture, and your mind became broken, and you slowly started to forget him.

You were only six and you knew how to hold a knife and fire a gun; You knew how to kill people in 40 different ways; You were brainwashed with trigger words, and were tested on constantly, something about some serum they wanted to put in you. But was it really a good thing that your body was rejecting it?

Training for hours, and testing you until you passed out, was that a good thing as well?

Sleep for a small amount of time, and given tiny portions of food, was that a good thing too?

Was it also a good thing that your mind was fuzzy, and you were slowly starting to lose who you are deep inside?

Was anything here at HYDRA good for you?

The very thoughts ran through your mind as you laid on the cold cement floor, bloody and bruised, worn out for wear as your arms were pulsing from all the needles they stuck in the flesh. You were an experiment, a weapon, they said. You had no time to cry, soldiers do not cry. You weren’t a child no matter how many times you try to remind yourself that you were.

A child whose life ended so shortly.

The man scoffed. “Еще один провал?” Her handler said, disappointed. The language that she once didn’t understand was finally making sense. (*Another fail?)

“К сожалению, сэр.” A scientist said, making your cloudy eyes look up at them as they spoke. (*Unfortunately, Sir)

“Проклятие…” (*Damn)

“Сэр, при всем уважении, то, что этот ребенок имеет ту же кровь, что и один из других наших солдат, не означает, что она будет работать так же, как он.” (*Sir, with all due respect, just because this child shares the same blood as one of our other soldiers, doesn’t mean she’ll work the same way as him)

“Фигня!” (*Bullshit!) The man throws his hands up in rage. “Он должен! Она будет работать идеально, как ее старик, может быть, даже лучше, если мы сделаем правильную сыворотку.”

(*It has to! She’ll work perfectly like her old man, maybe even better if we can make the right serum)

“Но сэр, мы только что создали Зимнего солдата почти год назад, поэтому мы так уверены, что он-” (*But sir, we just created the Winter Soldier nearly a year ago, how we so sure he’s-)

The handler scoffed again. “Идеальный? Потому что он уже.” (*Perfect? Because he already is)

Even with your fuzzy mind you still were confused on what he was saying. Were you related to a super soldier? You don’t even recall having any family, which is rather odd to say the least. So what did they exactly mean?

Suddenly the door opens, and a guard comes in, speaking in english. “Sir, the Winter Soldier’s ready for his exam.”

The handler smiled. “Perfect! Bring him in.” He said, before looking at the other guards already present in the room. “Bring her back to her cell. We’ll try again in a few hours.”

They muttered, ‘Yes, sir’, before you felt yourself being pulled off the ground. You let your head hang low and wobble back and forth, as they dragged you along. The cell actually sounded nice. Laying on your uncomfortable mattress with some hours of peace sounded heavenly to you (but made sure to never let them know). You only had stopped once when the door opened again, the room flooded with men with tactical gear and guns as they led someone inside.

And then your heart sank.

What you assume to be the infamous Winter Soldier you’ve heard for months now came in looking as empty as you. His hair went past his ears, his facial hair was coming in, and he showed off a silvery colored arm that was exposed like his upper body. Just like you, scars and bruises lingered in his form as he remained ghostly pale, or like the color of snow itself.

But that’s not what struck you.

That’s not what triggered something in the back of your head.

That wasn’t a reason a sudden memory was being revived.

No.

It was his face.

A face you knew even after not seeing it for nearly three years. You knew it was him.

All of HYDRA’s work to your mind suddenly went out of the nonexistent window.

Your eyes widened, and your body shot up in their hold as you yelled, “PAPA!!!”

The room got quiet and stiff, as the Handler started sweaty nervously when the Winter Soldier stopped himself. When his eyes met yours, you went crazy because it was him, your father, who was very much alive.

“PAPA!!! IT’S ME! IT’S (Y/N)! YOUR DAUGHTER!!” You screamed, hoping to get through, because he really was looking like an empty shell of a man. “PAPA! PLEASE, REMEMBER ME!”

The man tilted his head, and stayed silent, which made the enemy’s sigh with relief.

But even villains couldn't have their happy moments either.

You then saw the slight spark in his eyes, and the stern facade he had on fell only a centimeter, but you noticed it without any doubts.

“(Y/N)....?” He whispers, his voice sounding like it was coming from two different people (But it was enough to get everyone in the room on edge).

You felt your eyes start stinging with tears, because your father was right there. You wanted nothing else but to hug him like the world was going to end.

“Papa.” You said, trying to smile reassuringly at him, which seemed to do the trick.

His body became tense again, but it wasn’t from the programming they put him in, it was entirely from something else. “(Y/N)!!” He yells, sounding like your dad, sounding like your Bucky.

“Papa!”

“(Y/N)!!” Bucky says, again, trying to get past as the guards start to grab him. “(Y/N)!!”

“Papa!!” You yelled again, as the two men that had you in their grasp started walking away with you. “Papa!! Help me!!”

You cried and kicked, and screamed as your dad started doing the same. Serum or not, your dad didn’t know the full extent of his abilities yet, so when the guards started holding him and beating him up, he was left feeling useless. But he couldn’t give up yet, not when you were literally three feet away from him.

“God damnit! Leave her alone!” He yells, after getting kicked in the stomach. “She’s my daughter, you fuckers! You get your filthy hands off of her!!”

Your handler sighs yet again. “Не говоря уже об экзамене, его надо будет стереть с ума. Сначала сделаем его, а потом мы сделаем ребенка.” He says, to the scientists. (*Never mind the exam, he’ll need to be mind wiped. Do him first, and then we’ll do the child next)

“Сэр, не следует ли нам передать одного из них, чтобы это не повторилось снова?” (*Sir, shouldn’t we transfer one of them to prevent this from happening again?)

He sighs, and shakes his head. “К сожалению, да. Мы не можем рисковать, что они нарушат контроль. Давайте заморозим ее и перевезем в другое место.” (*Unfortunately, yes. We can't risk them breaking the control. Let's freeze her and transport her somewhere else.)

“Прямо сейчас, сэр.” A guard said. (*Right away, Sir)

Bucky tries wiggling out of their grasps, still screaming for you. But before you could scream at him back, you missed the way your handler gave your guards a nod, and before you knew it, you were slammed into the closet wall, hitting your head.

The last thing you remember was your dad calling for you, as you met the darkness some more.

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(YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHY THEY WANTED TO KEEP YOU AROUND, BUT EACH PASSING DAY WAS A GIFT FROM HELL...)

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...You didn’t forget your father’s face, even after time went on.

Was it days? Weeks? Months? Years? You did not know.

But you never forgot him once as they tortured you till your throat ran raw and you passed out. You took so many beatings physically. You had your brain put in the blender so many times. You were frozen and unfrozen at least a dozen times. You were drugged and tested on more times than you could count, and even when your memory of your earlier life slowly started to drift away, you still held onto a tiny piece of someone familiar.

Deep blue eyes that were nothing but caring and loving towards you.

The hair that was the color of the chestnuts you used to eat, or the hot coco you used to drink.

And the smile was brighter and warm. Comforting and calling towards you.

But…

You didn’t know who he was and why he made you feel that way, all you knew was that he was your only hope of hanging on the last bit of yourself.

So here you were again, feeling a little bit older as your arms ached from the needles, and the smell of vomit was all over you. Another failed attempt of getting the serum to react the way they wanted it to. And as always, somehow, it ended up being your fault.

You groaned quietly as you were curled up into a ball on the floor, tears pricking your eyes as your handler (Your new handler, apparently. They told you the other one had died when you came out of cryo) starting bitching and complaining to one of the head scientists.

“Почему это не удается? Объясните мне это !!!” Your handler said, shouting at the top of his lungs. (*Why does this keep failing? Explain that to me!!!)

“Сэр, она ребенок, а детское тело не может справиться с таким ужасным процессом, как этот.” The man explained while keeping a steady breath. He almost looked like he might vomit himself. (*Sir, she’s a child, and children’s bodies can’t handle a gruesome process like this)

You meantally scoffed.

You damn right. You thought, as your body started to flare up like it always does in these experiments.

Seriously, why did your body have to set itself on fire? While sharp nails ran through your bloodstream, and stab your fragile lungs?

“Не говоря уже о том, что вы только что заставили ее потренироваться восемь часов, ее тело, вероятно, истощено.” The scientist continued, trying to reason with his clearly psychotic boss. (*Not to mention, you just had her do eight hours of training, her body's probably exhausted)

Your handler looked like he was about to explode from the way his hands morphed into fists, and his face turned bloodshot red. “Мне все равно! Она солдат! Она должна уметь справиться с этим!” He spat, bitterly. (*I don't care! She's a soldier! She should be able to handle it!)

You wanted to roll your eyes, and curse at him, but there’s no way you could muster up some energy.

“Охранники! Преподайте ей урок.” (*Guards! Teach her a lesson.)

You froze.

Shit.

You knew what was coming and there was no way you could fight back. You suddenly found yourself lifted off the ground by a man, spotting a small glimpse at the boss who was torn between being pleased and disappointed (You even saw the scientist try to protest), before you entered another world of pain.

You were punched and kicked in so many different ways and in so many different places. You choked on the blood in your mouth, as stars clouded your eyes. You wanted to cry and tell them to stop, but your mind was just way too hazy.

Just stop.... You begged to yourself. Just stop… please…

Suddenly you were held up high, and you caught the familiar metal table that you were once lying on in your vision.

Shit…

You knew what was going to happen, and shut your eyes tight as you started begging again.

Don’t… not again. Don’t knock me out this way again…

You braced yourself as he was bringing you down on the table. You swear you hear your ribs crack when you hit the cement floor, and-

Wait.

Cement?

You heard them gasping, as you slowly started to crack open your (Y/E/C) orbs as you saw the bottom of the table was in your view. You come to an easy conclusion that you were on the floor, with the table hovering above you. But…

How?

What…? Was all you could think before you heard your Handler start cackling.

“Святая корова…” The scientist said in disbelief, his eyes blown wide. (*Holy Cow…)

“Это сработало! Сыворотка подействовала!” The boss yelled, laughing again. (*It worked! The serum worked!)

Serum…? You thought, as your body started to feel tingling, and there was a knot in your stomach. Fuck…

You rolled yourself to your side before vomiting out the acid in your empty stomach. You cried quietly again at how fucking bad your body was hurting right now. The burning and nails were ten fold.

“Наконец-то эксперименты принесли свои плоды. Наконец-то можно запустить фантом проекта!” (*The experimentation has finally paid off. Finally, project phantom can commence!)

You furrowed your brows together.

Project… Phantom…?

Before you can question it some more, you mind, just like always, blacked out into the abyss.

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(YOU WERE A WINTER SOLDIER, BUT THEY LOVED TO CALL YOU BY ANOTHER NAME...)

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...You were a Winter Soldier.

You worked for HYDRA.

You kill for HYDRA.

And slowly, you could see why.

You were fast. Faster than the vehicles you would see on your missions.

You were strong. Strong enough to flip over a tank.

You were durable. Although you could still bleed, and get bruised, and break bones, they would heal in a matter of a few minutes (depending on the injury of course).

But here was the other ability you had that set you apart from the rest of them.

You could phase. Go through walls and any other solid matter like a ghost. Or…

A Phantom.

‘Phantom’. That’s what they would call you. Dress in black like the grim reaper, a mask and hoodie to keep you concealed as you stab your enemy in their throat, or crack their neck in half, or make them taste lead.

However, the experiments and beating never stopped throughout your history with HYDRA. With every new handler, they would always cause you pain, and you knew why.

And that was because you weren’t perfect.

They’re ‘Project: Phantom’ still had its flaws, and it was because you couldn’t be a Phantom all the time.

You couldn’t phase willingly. It only happened at random, and neither you, nor them, could figure out why.

So they would scream at you, torture you in the chair, starve you for days. You were pushing the age of nine, and you started to feel like it was really your fault, even though you knew it wasn’t.

So they tested you.

Over and over.

Over and over.

Over and over again to see if they could get it right.

One a cold day in your ‘new’ base in Sokovia, you slouched in your retrains, listening to everyone around you argue and cuss at you. You felt your handler slapped you, but you remained unphased because that’s what you were trained to do. Take it, and leave it alone.

“Damn you, Soldat.” Your new boss (yes, new. Shocker, right?) said, straightening up again. He sighs. “No matter, we’ll have to try again. Maybe a few more years back under the ice will help your body learn to adjust, hmm?”

He touches your face with the same hand that causes you pain, and you learned not to flinch or smack it away. He starts stroking your cheeks, and rubbing your chin. He eyed you like a delicious prey.

He chuckles. “No matter, Soldat. We’ll fix you, won’t we?” He said, mischievously. He hums again at your emotionless face. “Won’t we? Мой красивый солдат?” (*My Beautiful Soldier)

His thumb brushes over your split lip before he pulls it away. He looks over his shoulder. “Let’s put her back under, and try again. Hopefully, she’ll be perfect the next time around.”

You didn’t even try to protest, because you realized this was your life. Getting tortured and triggered to do kill missions. So why even try to fight it now? Would the man you still see in your dreams be disappointed? Or was he a monster just like you?

You let them grab, drag you, and shoved into the pod as you waited for your body to freeze over…

And wait to see whoever is going to be your boss next.

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(TODAY WAS GOING TO BE DIFFERENT. WHY THOUGH? IT’S THE QUESTION YOU’RE DREADING TO KNOW...)

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.

.

...You felt the ice melt away from you, even though you were met with a cool breeze of the very same room you were last left in. Only this time, it wasn’t filled up with tables and chairs, and men of various fields staring back at you. No…

It was empty.

As you wobbled on your feet, you weren’t sure what to do because who was supposed to give your mission? You were ready for the trigger words, ready to comply, but for who? No one was here.

Although, your prayers (if you could even call it that) were soon answered when someone circled around to face you. Sandy blonde and dark brown, and eyes the same color, a man with a five o’clock shadow stared back at you with almost a sense of joy.

And something else you couldn’t quite place.

You also couldn’t understand why he was so neatly dressed, and not in a HYDRA uniform.

You were still with HYDRA.

Right?

You opened your mouth to ask what your mission was, but he beat you to it.

“Hello, (Y/N).” He said, surprisingly in English.

You were a bit taken back.

HYDRA rarely spoke in English, unless it was either serious or when they were taunting you with their unwanted touching.

You were confused.

Was this really your company anymore?

He smiles when he can see the wheels turning in her head. With a bit of his accent, he continues. “My name is Helmut Zemo, and I will be your new handler.”

(TBC in ‘A CIVIL WAR IN OUR MINDS)

[lovelybarnes]

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

-

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

[gogolucky13]

Southpaw (6)

Series summary: Tied up in the criminal world your godfather has built, you have no reason to leave, until you find one in the man they call Southpaw.

Pairing: boxer!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3,328

Warnings: Moderate angst, bit of fluff. Description of fighting/boxing. Pierce is a d*ck. Swearing?

A/N: So, this is the part of the rollercoaster where we’ve reached the top right before the big drop. 😬 Thank you for all the support, feedback is always appreciated! Divider by @firefly-graphics Happy reading! 💜

Time seems to pass differently now that the Southpaw has come into your life. Before, days, weeks, even months, blurred together and dragged on at a numbing pace with no purpose other than to keep your godfather’s books clean. It was as if you were living in a fog, no end or beginning, your whole world painted grey.

But now, every second is cherished from the moment you wake up with your Southpaw by your side to the moment you fall asleep in his arms. Now, you live in a world of vibrant color painted by playful glances, lingering touches, and sweet kisses.

For too long you were a bird trapped in a cage, just waiting to be set free. Every day that passed, you lost a bit more hope that you would ever get the chance to fly. But then, your wings were restored in the form of James Barnes. He came into your life unexpectedly, unlocking that little piece of yourself you had long forgotten about, giving you a whole new purpose and bringing you back to life again.

And the same could be said for Bucky. His sole purpose in life was to fight and win. He thought it was all he needed, however, it was a short high that often left him feeling a bit emptier inside when the thrill of winning was over. But now, with you, he’s had a taste of something so much better, something he can’t even put into words how happy it makes him, and that feeling is everlasting.

Which is why, more often than not, Bucky chooses you over everything, including his training sessions. He knows he promised you he would be careful, but he’ll be damned if he loses any amount of time with you.

“I’m telling you, man,” Sam firmly begins, standing over Bucky who sits on one of the benches in the locker room, “if you miss one more I’m gonna have to tell him.” The trainer levels the Southpaw with an unimpressed look, arms crossed and dark eyes set in warning.

Bucky rolls his eyes, shrugging off Sam’s threat as his attention remains on the process of wrapping his hands. “I don’t understand what the big deal is,” he responds nonchalantly. “I’m still winning fights, who cares if I miss a few training sessions.”

“I care,” Sam remarks. “I care, and it doesn’t matter if you’re still winning, Pierce pays me to train you, and he pays you to fight and train.”

A thick silence then settles over the two men. Sam lets out a frustrated deep breath, and Bucky senses a shift in the trainer’s demeanor, which pulls his focus from his hands. He looks up to Sam, waiting.

“Look,” Sam sighs, dropping his arms to place his hands on his hips, “I’ve known Y/n for a long time. She’s been caught up in this shit with Pierce for too long, and I’ve always worried what it’s doing to her.” He takes a moment, gaze momentarily drifting over Bucky’s head as he reflects on his own time spent with you.

“But,” he begins again, refocusing on the Southpaw and sighing heavily before he voices his reluctant understanding, “I’ve seen how she’s changed since you’ve arrived at the gym. Before you came along, I can’t even tell you the last time I saw that girl fucking smile. But now, she’s like a whole new person, and I see how happy you make her, how happy you make each other,” he pauses, allowing his words to sink in before he continues, “But I have my own neck to look out for with Pierce. So, I’m warning you, don’t fuck up again.”

Bucky sits with a clenched jaw and a teary gaze as he tries to manage his emotions, Sam’s words hitting him harder than the trainer probably intended. Nodding, Bucky clears his throat before responding, “I won’t.”

Later that night, you’re slipping into the crowded gym, the excitement to watch your Southpaw take on another fight tingling your nerves. It’s become one of your favorite things to do; seeing Bucky in the ring, doing what he loves. However, your presence at the matches hasn’t gone unnoticed. Try as you might to blend in with the crowd, your godfather is more attentive than you give him credit for.

Bucky dances around the ring, putting into action some of the moves he and Sam practiced just a few days ago. He could easily take down his opposer—a slightly shorter man with less muscle mass—but Bucky likes to use these smaller matches as practice. A chance to test his limits and moves for the big fight that’s swiftly approaching—the whole reason Pierce hired him in the first place.

The bell dings, signaling the end of the fifth round, and Bucky immediately breaks for his corner, desperate for another chance to see you. He found you shortly after the first round, standing towards the back of the crowd, a gentle bite to your bottom lip as you held back a smile when he nodded at you. Fighting has always been exhilarating for Bucky, but to now have someone he cares for, dare he say loves, amongst the sea of onlookers cheering him on, it gives him a whole new motivation to win.

Hiding in the shadows, Bucky finds you still in the same spot. He gives you a smile, swiping his arm across his damp forehead, the little hairs that always fall from his bun now sticking to the skin above his eyes in random designs.

“I say the guy has one, maybe two more rounds in him,” Sam states, intently focusing on prepping Bucky for the next round as he massages the Southpaw’s forearms and biceps. “He’s definitely weaker on his left side, make sure you…”

But the rest of Sam’s voice is drained out, Bucky’s full attention only on you. As he continues to watch you from the ring, however, a twinge of jealousy stings at him when he sees Brock Rumlow come up to you and place an unwelcoming hand to the small of your back. He can’t help the sneer that curls his upper lip as you seemingly try to brush Rumlow off and he doesn’t take the hint. Bucky has half a mind to not jump out of the ring and punch him square in the nose for thinking he had the right to lay even a finger on you. But before he can let his emotions get carried away, the bell rings and he’s summoned back to the fight.

“Come with me, sweetheart,” Rumlow speaks directly into your ear.

The pet name is like a curse coming from him, sending prickles of irritation all over your skin. Rumlow guides you through the crowd, his hand still touching you despite your physical and verbal objections. He takes you to the metal staircase along the back wall that leads to the overlook where your godfather prefers to watch his fighters. As you begin to climb the steps, it nearly feels like a death march.

Once you reach the top, Rumlow pushes you forward until you are almost standing directly beside your godfather, who doesn’t spare you a glance upon your arrival. A surly grey-eyed stare is set on the ring below, his infamous scowl pulled tight across his face as he clenches his jaw in obvious vexation. Two wrinkling hands rest on the black railing before him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Y/n?” He asks in an eerily calm voice. “You don’t belong here.”

He continues to watch the fight, his dismissive attitude towards you inducing a flare of bitter indignation to rise up.

“Guess you should’ve thought about that before you asked me to come work for you,” you snap.

The statement finally draws his attention to you. The hardness in his eyes as cold as ice, and it has you taking a half-step away from him as he leans in to deliver his next line of antagonism.

“I won’t have anything or anyone threaten my winnings,” he states in a seething venomous tone. His chilling stare remains on you for a moment longer, ensuring you’ve heard him loud and clear, until he’s turning back to the fight. In a calmer, yet still menacing voice, he adds, “Stay away from Barnes, or I’ll have to teach you both a lesson.”

Sure your godfather is only speaking in empty threats, you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But when he turns to face you once more, the malice in his voice and on his face tells you these threats are not hollow. “You know what it means.”

Shock has your mouth falling slightly open and eyes growing wide at his warning. You’re certain you’ve both been careful at keeping the relationship secret, not drawing too much unwanted attention around the gym. Hell, you haven’t even let Bucky take you out on any proper dates since that first night at the bar, too afraid one of your godfather’s fighters will see you and report back to him. But when you chance a glance to Rumlow, a pleased smile tinted darkly in malice stretches across his face, and the urge to throw up suddenly consumes you.

Random moments of you and Bucky at the gym begin to flood your mind, and you try to figure out when he would’ve possibly seen you. Then, a certain night floats to the top and the urge to vomit only intensifies. It was a night the two of you were alone in your office after hours, and you remember hearing the slam of the locker room door ring out in the quiet basement while you and Bucky were in the middle of a heated make out session. You were sure no one had seen you, but as details from that night become more vivid, you recall the blinds to your office window were left open, giving anyone who walked by a clear view of the two of you together.

Rumlow’s intentions to tell your godfather are not lost on you. Being your godfather’s right hand man, it’s not surprising he’d run off and tell him without a second thought. But you also know his motives stem from his resentment towards you for turning him down. A flame of jealousy burning inside him ever since then, fueling his desire to see you hurt and wronged.

Gently, you bite your bottom lip, shame washing over you and slumping your shoulders. Your body feels like lead as you glance down to the fight. A pair of deep brown eyes meet yours instantly, a stern look of concern sitting heavy on Sam’s face. Tears begin to well in your eyes as you stare back at him, the reality of the situation uncomfortably settling in. The crowd erupts into a deafening cheer as Bucky lands a knockout punch to his opponent. Flinching, your gaze is snatched away from Sam to Bucky in the middle of the ring.

Heaving for air, the lights bounce of the sweaty skin of his back as Bucky stands triumphantly over the limp body for only a moment, and then he’s turning to you. A deep line of worry creases his brow when he registers your distressed state, and you give him the slightest nod of reassurance. However, he doesn’t seem convinced and completely ignores his surroundings, even as the referee raises his arm to declare him the official winner.

Pierce lets out a wicked laugh as he claps in delight for the Southpaw. After several minutes, he turns to leave, but stops short of the staircase to face you one last time.

“Remember what I said, dear niece.”

Then he disappears down the stairs, leaving you to stand alone on the metal platform with a sick feeling festering in your stomach.

You didn’t wait for Bucky to come to your office before you left, unable to stay there any longer as the walls felt as though they were caving in, suffocating you once more. The words your godfather said lodged deep into your gut, twisting themselves until you were on the verge of vomiting several times on your car ride home.

Even in the comfort of your own apartment, you still feel on edge, worried your godfather has someone spying on you every moment. A series of three knocks on your front door startles you, ceasing your incessant pacing around your living room. Motionless, you stare at the wooden slab with your thumbnail between your teeth, waiting. When three more knocks echo around the room, a gasp falls from your lips and you’re anxiously scurrying over to the door to peer through the peephole.

On the other side, a freshly showered Bucky stands.

“Open up, sweetheart,” he calls, his voiced muffled through the oak. “It’s me.”

There’s a sigh of relief at the sight of him, but it quickly fades and is replaced by the looming fear that’s stuck to you since leaving the gym almost an hour ago.

Swiftly, you open the door, grabbing a chunk of his leather jacket and drag him inside.

“What are yo—“

“Get in here,” you cut him off, quickly shutting the door and locking it. You take another quick glance through the peephole, for what reason, you aren’t sure because the hallway was empty.

“Why didn’t you wait for me at the gym?”

Ignoring him, you dash over to the windows across the room, pulling the blinds closed before you peep to the street below.

From behind, you can hear Bucky laughing at your antics. “What’s gotten into you? What are you looking for?”

“Someone could be watching?”

“Who could be watching?” Bucky chuckles, taking a few steps towards you, but when you turn around to face him, the curious smile on his face falls and his brow is crinkling in concern. “Sweetheart, who could be watching? What are you talking about?”

Tears begin to well in your eyes, reflecting the fear that fills them and it has Bucky moving towards you in an instant.

Gently, he cups your face in his large hands, swiping away any rogue tears that fall when you blink. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“My godfather,” you whisper, bottom lip trembling as you try to hold back the onslaught of tears that threaten to fall. “My godfather, he knows.”

“He knows what?”

“About us. He knows about us.”

A quiet sob breaks through as the admission tumbles out, the weight of the words and severity of the situation crashing down on you like a ton of bricks.

“What did he say to you?” Bucky asks. The grasp on your cheek tightens just the slightest as he recalls the look on your face from where you stood beside your godfather.

“He said…” Another soft cry catches in your throat, the words lodging themselves there because to say them out loud would make everything that much more real. “He said if I didn’t stay away from you, he’d teach us a lesson.”

The clench of Bucky’s jaw is obvious under the taut skin of his cheek, considering the threat and the options. Knowing he’s far too valuable for Pierce to get rid of, Bucky brushes it off. He leans in, bringing his lips to yours in a slow, chaste kiss, and it temporarily eases the festering worry inside you.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“How do you know that, though? You don’t know my godfather like I do. I’m scared of what he’ll do, James. I don’t think we should see each other anymore. It’s not a good ide—“

His lips catch yours in another kiss, cutting off your ramblings because Bucky does not want to hear you say those things. He won’t even entertain the idea of letting you go.

“I promise,” he says once he pulls away. He levels you with an intense stare, a seriousness deepening the blue of his eyes, deeper than you’ve ever seen. “Everything will be okay.”

The words are spoken with such conviction you have no choice but to believe him. Unable to speak, your throat still tight from emotion, you can only nod. Bucky places one last kiss to your lips, then to both cheeks before he pulls away to look at you. As he slides a hand into yours, the boyish smirk that stole your heart all those months ago begins to tug at his lips.

“C’mon,” he says, pulling you towards the front door.

At the playful look in his eyes, all the remaining anxiety and fear from before seems to dissipate from your body; dissolving into complete nothingness.

“What, what are you doing?” A small laugh finds its way out, your tear stained cheeks drying.

“Well,” Bucky begins, grabbing your jacket and helping you into it, “since you won’t let me take you on a proper date, and I’m tired of being cooped up, I thought we could go somewhere special.”

He opens the door with one hand, the other is held out to you, but you remain unmoving. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Dropping his head, Bucky lets out a small sigh of momentary defeat before looking back to you with the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes. “Trust me?”

Trusting James Barnes has become one of the easiest things for you to do; so, with a hand in his, you follow your heart.

He doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, regardless of how many times you ask and despite the countless hollow threats you make. He only rolls his eyes, chuckling at your childish ultimatums of I won’t kiss you unless you tell me where we’re going. The only place you do recognize is the Thai restaurant several blocks from your apartment he stops at to pick up some take out before continuing on with the drive. It’s almost an hour later by the time he parks his black vintage car in a stony parking lot, and you’ve nearly forgotten all about your godfather and his warnings.

Silently, Bucky exits the car and retrieves a blanket and food from the backseat. Then, he comes to the passenger side to open your door, his free hand stretched out for you to take. He leads you to a small patch of grass beside a large oak tree, a spot that overlooks a smaller part of the city. It’s a secluded area, peaceful in its surroundings as the soundtrack of city life is a distant melody and the tunes of Mother Nature play out around you. Bucky sets up the blanket and food, pulling you down to sit beside him.

“Do I get to kiss you yet?” Bucky finally asks after the last of your dinner has been eaten. He leans agains the tree with you tucked under his arm, the two of you enjoying the manmade scenic view of skyscrapers and city lights.

A giggle bubbles up, and you look up to him with a smile. He gazes back at you with an arched brow, the beginnings of a smirk on his own lips, as his face reads I’m waiting…

You remove yourself from his side and crawl onto his lap. Instantly, your fingers weave their way into the strands of hair by his neck while Bucky’s hands wrap around your waist to hold you close.

“What am I gonna do with you, James Barnes?”

A wide grin stretches across Bucky’s face at your teasing, and he inches his mouth closer to yours, whispering, “Let me love you.”

Brushing your lips against his, you softly reply, “You have me.”

In the next heartbeat, the two of you are swept up in a searing kiss; lips together, tongues entwining, and bodies pressed into one. Your godfather may stay true to his earlier threat, but right now, in this moment with your Southpaw, nothing else matters except for you and him.

Part five // Part seven // Masterlist

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of the Past. Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader

Wordcount: 3875

CW: Dissociation, graphic depiction of violence, hallucinations, unhealthy relationship and unhealthy power dynamics.

A.N.: I used a lot of my experience with dissociations in this and if it makes you uncomfortable, I would advice not to read it. I also plan on writing continuation for this, as it’s set before the Rite of Descension. P.s. I am not a native English speaker, so could you notify me if there’s awkward wording.

[Next chapter]

There are plenty of times you find yourself reminiscing about the past and now, your mind slips back to your memories, as you look at the horribly mangled body of the treasure hoarder. The stench of blood stuffs up your nose, it’s sickly sweet metallic odor making your gut clench and nausea rise, as your limbs grow heavier and numb. You don’t feel  like you belong in your skin and bones and blood anymore - it’s cold, so cold, yet you don’t feel any of it. You are an outsider, an unwanted intruder in the house that is your body, an indifferent observer looking at the world through the thick glass.

The world around disfigures, shapes and colors changing in the constant whirlwind - they jump and dance around, small becoming large and large shrinking so much it’s barely visible, green shifts to red to blue and to yellow and to million of other colors, and sounds suddenly become muffled, losing their sharpness, but you don’t care about it: the part that is “you” fled to the daydreams of your childhood moments ago, leaving a clinically observing, yet unfeeling being behind. 

Adults would describe you as a perfect child: quiet, obedient and dutiful, you were a stark contrast to the other louder and more free spirited kids. You studied hard, cleaned the house, helped with dishes and cooking and never talked back. 

I can't upset mom and dad because they work so much. I can't play with other kids because if I do, they will make fun of me, I have to study hard and get good grades, because mom said I will have a good job and become rich and help them. 

These particular memories don't feel good to you: they're bleak and boring, yet full of silent shame - they make your throat clog and eyes water, as something burning starts to bloom deep underneath your skin. 

Childe stops beating the still alive treasure hoarder, a blood smeared on the cheek and a dangerous glint in his eyes, and turns his head to you. 

"Hey, how about lending me a helping hand?", there’s a hunger in his voice you recognize, he wants to teach a lesson to the debtors, then. You walk towards him, feeling your knees get weaker and weaker with each step for some reason. A dagger made of ice shines in your hand with cold light. 

"It's no wonder [First] received a vision! My [First] is always so good and smart, there are no children better" the exact words your mother says, as she brags to her friends, showing them the vision you were bestowed with. You left it to her, not caring what will happen to it - despite all the child's wonder you felt before receiving it, the glowing orb doesn’t look so amazing to you now. It feels foreign and ugly, a reminder of what happened seconds before you gained it. 

“You know, when I was a child”, he takes the weapon and focuses on the treasure hoarder’s leader again, “we made a special kind of promise”. It’s tip travels to the hoarder’s hand. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life”

The sweet voice he uses and the fact that you  know the nursery rhyme too would make you sick in the stomach the other day, but not now. 

You don’t exactly remember how you joined the Fatui - it happened shortly after you gained a vision, when you were still too numb and cold to the outside world after the Event. 

Mom will hate me, dad will hate me too. I can’t let them know.

Your parents say that officials just knocked on the front door one day and offered you an entry into the Fatui and a monthly salary, big enough to stop your parents from overworking themselves. You were terrified back then, Fatuis despite being known as a diplomatic organization are still a mystery to the ordinary Shezhnayan and a direct servants to Her will. The thought of disappointing Tsaritsa or letting down Snezhnaya was enough to paralyze you, but seeing the smiles on your parents faces was enough to make you swear to yourself, that you will work there no matter how scary it seems.

“You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” The blade stops between phalanges of the little finger: “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend", he presses it, strong enough to detach the limb from the rest of the body in one swift slash. Treasure hoarder starts to cry and scream from the sudden pain, yet quickly chokes on it as Childe hits him in the solar plexus. The crack of bones feels deafening among the sea of muffled sounds.

Training was rigorous to say the least, you came back to your dorm room absolutely exhausted and after you fell on the bed you were practically dead to the world. Turns out, having a vision wasn’t enough to make you a fighter - you needed to know how to climb, swim, run with a weight to lift and wield a weapon. There were other children and teens with you, they eyed your vision with a mix of adoration and envy, you pretended not to catch it in turn.

“The frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again”, harbinger forces the victim's jaw apart by squeezing it with one hand, the other rapidly forcing a dagger inside the mouth. Treasure hoarder gasps and mumbles, fat tears forming in his eyes. A part of you expects a sound of parting flesh, but none comes: Tartaglia stands up and removes the blade, leaving a shivering and terrified man laying on the ground.

“Well,” Childe shrugs, as if he didn’t just dismember a person, voice back to his cheery tone : “You didn’t actually make a pinkie promise, so consider it a small mercy”. The treasure hoarder cowers even more, snuggling the injured hand close to the bruised chest. “But if you fail to repay your debt I will oversee that the frost”, he points in your direction, a treasure hoarder’s eyes going wide as he notices your vision, “will actually freeze your lying tongue off”, his voice descends again, back to it’s dangerous half-whisper.

You meet Ajax during the winter, he’s close to you in age and just arrived into Fatui grounds. He boasts and shows off to all of you, and you desperately want to retort something acidic to shut him up and rip off that arrogant bravado, yet say nothing, picturing how the tomorrow training session will have him laying flat on his back, too hurt and too tired to move even a single finger. 

He defeats the trainer in less than a minute.

Now, that the treasure hoarder fled, still snuggling disfigured limb, Childe turns attention back to you. “You seem a little bit disinterested here”, his hand on your cheek is so foreign, it’s burning and freezing at the same time, the shock from the unwanted touch almost strong enough to pull you back into reality. He notices your unintentional flinching and unfocused eyes “Ah, you hurt my feelings, [First]! And I thought we already became friends”. 

You say nothing, cold and unmoving, blind and deaf to the outside world, his words register a second too late, and there’s no cliche phrase for you to reply with. He looks a bit baffled and deflated for a second, but shrugs it off, just like he did during teen years, when you deliberately ignored all his attempts at catching your attention.

“Huh, even if you are so cold to me, I still forgive you”, he takes your hand, his touch still too overwhelming for you to process and pulls you back to Liyue harbor, your legs barely bending as you walk after him, like an obedient dog trailing it’s master.

“You know [First], I can beat you up so badly, that you will barely walk”, you put feather aside, stopping writing the letter to your parents as you glare at Ajax with barely masked indignation. He grins, satisfied to finally catch your attention after the whole day of pestering you. “I am aware of that” you reply in an absolutely flat tone, holding yourself from pouncing on him and trying to break the teeth out of that smug smile. He beams even wider, as if sensing your not-so-good intentions, revealing even more pearly whites as if taunting you.

“But I won’t, count yourself lucky”. And he leaves, this short interaction filling you with so much rage that you shake, handwritten letters noticeably becoming sharper and faster, your thoughts clouding around the idea of acquating his face with your boots. 

 Nonetheless, you indeed count yourself fortunate enough, when you see Ajax defeating grown men with bare hands. When you two, the only vision holders among your peers have to spar, he always goes easy on you, prefering to immobilize you rather than beating, making your defeat less painful yet even more humiliating. 

Almost at the end of your trail he suddenly stops and says something, but you don't catch it, words turning into separate vowels and then fusing together into one unintelligible gibberish mess. He leans in, close enough for his breath to burn your neck, and he continues to get closer, until his empty eyes look into yours glazed ones. He seems disappointed for a second and backs down, his breathing no longer fanning your skin. 

Distantly you think that you somehow angered him and he will slap you for it, and do nothing to dodge the hit - you barely feel pain in this condition anyway, but he doesn’t. The road to the Northland Bank is completed in absolute silence, Childe no longer trying to grab your attention, only when you enter Liyue Harbor does he whisper, that you two must look like a pair with all that hand holding. Judging by the volume and tone of his voice he says it more to himself than to you.

***

You come back to yourself in the safety of your room on the third room of the Northland bank. It feels like a rush of sensation, as everything becomes sharper and clearer again, like you just swam to the surface of water from the very depths of it. An invisible bubble around your head pops in one moment, and the world becomes real again, mind and body connecting for once more.

Eyes and ears focused you take in surroundings: the room is neat and lifelessly empty - just a bed and a working desk with a stack of written but unsent letters, along with a small bookcase near, no figurines, pictures or even plants to decorate living place, as you see no reason to adorn the area you use for sleeping only. Indiscernible wallpapers and a small window close to the middle of the bed finish the picture of austerity.

 Once, your memory catches up to you, you can't help groan from the shame and irritation, hiding your face in both hands. Afterwards  always feels both like a disgraceful escape and a warm blanket during the stormy night, a duality that you accepted long ago after joining the Fatui and today is no exception. You curse Harbinger when you remember why exactly you had an episode, and get up from the bed you threw yourself on minutes ago. You come to the desk, taking a clean form of a relocation request from the drawer and writing materials. 

Filling in the blank feels like commiting a felony to you for some reason - you stop several times when you hear footsteps in the corridor, focusing on the door,ready to hide the half written form and say some lie as an excuse. You don't list the Childe-related reasons, knowing that there's nothing that could make any of the Harbingers face the consequence for their actions, and instead you write completely normal and fake causes: health concerns, family matters and so on. Part of you doubts that this will work and you will have the fortune to get away from a certain harbinger as far as possible. Trying and failing is better than never attempting, you think, quickly writing the paper.

Once you finish it, you almost rush to Ekaterina, praying that you won't run into a certain ginger on the way. Sometime ago you caught Tartaglia checking your letters, for a secrecy he said back then, we can’t let anyone know about the coming operation. Childe then instilled that every sent and received letter should be checked, lest Qixing and other Liyuens learned what Fatui had in plan. It sounded logical and sensible, but the paranoid thought that he enforced this policy just to have a glimpse at your feelings never stopped eating at you. From that day on you sent your family the most basic and vague letters, just stating that you’re in good health and mind, still missing them and Snezhnaya, leaving the ones with more private sentiments in your room. 

Her eyes are completely obscured by the mask, but even with that you can’t miss the pointed glare she sends your way - Tartaglia never shied away from showing off, be it his strength, money or his twisted obsession that he calls love. With the amount of time and finances he spends on you and the way he acts like a kicked lovesick puppy in your vicinity, you are pretty sure that at least half of the bank workers see you as a cunning and cruel seducer, so keen and devious in the art of temptation that you managed to lure in Eleventh Harbinger.

As if archons decided to laugh at you, Childe descends from the second floor too, catching the sight of you near the receptionist. He looks unusually somber for a moment, but then he sees you, a smile appearing on his face as he takes the form from Ekaterina's hands. You can just feel how Ekaterina rolls her eyes under the mask, as if muttering complaints about the lovers’ spat and insubordination, having been working with her for some time, enough to have a clue of the inner workings of her mind.

You have to give him that he plays the confusion and regret very persuasively. He asks how he can fix this, says what a valuable team member you are to him and how much you are needed in the Northland bank. You agree to his suggestion - if years of training with Ajax and then work with Childe taught you anything, it is that Ajax is the chaos incarnate and Tartaglia is Ajax’s less tolerable and more unpredictable version, so it’s better not to anger him.

***

In the end he invites you to dine with him at Wanmin restaurant, a place Childe heard from some “xiansheng” as he called them. A bustling Liyue street is open before you two, tall midday sun painting the whole street into bright orange, so unlike the pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya. He orders two Black Back Perch Stews on the chef's recommendations, and hands a bouquet of local flowers in a parody of a normal boyfriend. Any random observer would really see it as a date.

You take the flowers, pretending to pay more attention to  them than to a man sitting near you. Tartaglia is an unpredictability wrapped in human skin, there’s no privilege as being lax and carefree near him, as even Tsaritsa has no idea what he will do next. 

To your mutual confusion Xiangling presents the meal with two pairs of chopsticks. Utensils feel foreign in your palm, you having no idea how to handle them and Childe, by the looks of it too. Tartaglia specifically asks the chef for spoons, while you observe the other clients, noting how they use theirs. Holding one stick like a pen and then placing the bottom one in a fixed position under the thumb you manage to grasp the fish from the soup, albeit clumsily. You consider it a small win. 

The image of a mighty Harbinger struggling in a failing battle with chopsticks would look funny to you, if it wasn’t for the whole "date" you were having. After putting them aside, and seemingly admitting defeat, Childe starts from afar: "You know [First], you changed a lot since I first met you" .

You raise an eyebrow at the starter, it's vague and innocent enough, but experience tells you that he will or at least try to stir the conversation into your relationship with him again. Straightening a bit and finally turning your eyes to him, you pause for a second, picking the least offensive reply you can muster - there’s a swarm of insults buzzing at the tip of your tongue prepared just for him, growing and sprouting since your pubescent years.

“Yes, I got taller”, he laughs it off, like you said some funny joke, his giggles not stopping for some time. "No, I mean as a person. Remember how you used to glare at me for joking? And now you act so unfazed ”

Joking. Is this what he calls it? Shivers creep up your spine when your memory oh so conveniently conjures the images of the aftermath of his jokes.

“Your jokes weren’t funny to anyone but you”. Breathe, you think, there’s no need to anger him. There are pictures of broken bones and bruised bodies and a cacophony of somebody else’s pained screams flashing and rattling in your head, Adults never did anything. Why would they? They had a golden boy Ajax, why would they help the others when they had him? Why would they help you? Bitterness and anger you thought you swallowed long ago rise up to the surface again, and you decide to bite down on the stew - Tartaglia always found a way to turn your words against you and hurt you, no need to give him more weapons now.

“I changed a lot too. I know I was insufferable as a teen”, he must have taken your silence as a free pass to continue whatever nonsense he’s sprouting, “I am sorry”.

The last three words catch you off guard, a piece of fish almost stuck in the throat from the jolt. Ajax takes you by surprise once again, for him to finally acknowledge and apologize for all the pain he caused and years he tormented you?

You blink and look at him intently, his facial expression changing into an unusually somber one. It seems authentic enough.

“Let’s start from the scratch?

You contemplate unsure what to say.

Was he lying?

Looking back, you in a sense are luckier than most of Childe's victims, witnessing his youth, familiarizing and distinguishing the tells of him lying and scheming, observing the way he bloomed into the manipulator he is today firsthand. You see a familiarity in his face and voice, something that helps you from falling to his charms. There's also the added fact that you were and still are an involuntary witness to the way how carnal and bloodthirsty usually friendly Ajax can become. 

When did you catch his attention?

You remember his smile when he first approached you, less teeth and more sincerity that is thereafter,a hand outstretched to you. It happens on the next day after his arrival, almost as cold and unpleasant as the previous one. You brush the limb away like a noisy fly, secretly angry at his arrogant attitude and how effortlessly he endured training. His smiling doesn’t stop, yet you feel a sudden change in the air around you.

Would your fate be different if you took his hand?

You can't forget how your mind disconnected from your body for the second time. It was Ajax again vying for your attention akin to a spoiled child, and like one he threw a tantrum when you refused to give him any. The poor recruit you were talking with was hospitalized the same day, as you helplessly watched the carnage before you. You didn't fight, you didn’t flee, you just froze, like a scared animal, paralyzed by fear, yet somehow too detached from feelings. That day was bizarre: once you felt reality, it was solid and undeniable and then you didn't. The realness of the current diffused, slipped through the fingers like sand, leaving nothing but unreliable and delusive reveries behind.

Will he let you go? 

“People do change and I see that you changed too. I don’t think of you as a teen you were” you carefully pick the words, Tartaglia visibly blooms, thinking that his apology worked, yet your next words snuff out his triumph: “but my memories stay the same. I don’t think we can start from scratch”

You bite the tongue, the second part still coming out too harsh for your liking. The moment of sincerity is interrupted, you see him, changing the masks, unsure what to do. It seems for the first time it was you who caught him off guard. You guess which one of the two standard facades he will decide to show to you, having spent years by his side to observe him masterfully wielding both, the friendly one with a vacant smile that never reaches his dead, dead eyes or the calculating one, distant and devoid of humanity?

In the end he uses none, a hurt still evident, dripping in his tone, face and moves - is it another mask you never got to see or is it real? - “So that is your answer”, he leans in closer, dull cerulean eyes looking right into yours.

You hold his stare, nodding, instead of saying anything and he hums, sitting back and wearing the cold mask, reserved for his enemies: “Just wanted to remind you that I am the Harbinger and you are just a position higher than an ordinary agent”. Despite seeing it so many times, it’s the first time he directs it at you and you have to suppress the shiver. The unsaid threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you.

You two are no longer solemn [First] and annoying Ajax, who trails your steps behind like a puppy, no, you are a special agent [Last] and Eleventh Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, to whom you are personally assigned by Tsaritsa herself. Even possessing vision and delusion yourself you can’t match Childe’s power, and your loss would be easy to overlook if your harbinger wished for it. Honestly speaking, there are a lot of things he could do to you without anyone questioning it, the Harbingers being the second most powerful figures in the organization, right after Tsaritsa herself. You heard the stories of Krupp and other assistants who got missing under Il Dottore, you heard of horrible accidents happening to the people Scaramouche dislikes, you heard about the injuries Signora inflicts on the unfortunate recruits when she is in foul mood, yet you never thought that Tartaglia will abuse his power in the same way.

“Don’t worry” he seems to have taken mercy on you, “I won’t use my position like that, it’s cheating and I like to play the fair game”, despite the seemingly reassuring words , you don’t let yourself relax, knowing him for years.

“Don’t think I will back down though, I am not the type to give up”