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#and my friend thought of hornet to ghost because of her needle coming in
ladybugboots · 2 years
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let me help you
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eyelessfog · 5 months
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i have beat the first battle with the hornet protector. i am lost in depths
(dw about spoilers i already know the story)
OH MY GOD?? OH MY GOD? YOURE PLAYING HLLOW KNIGHT???? HELLO TO HORNET IM SO PROUD OF YOU FOR BEATING HORNET. squints wait can we try something. where are you in hollow knight - like what area.
oh my god. okay so right right hollow knight so hollow knight is a tragedy its about a dying kingdom its about a kingdom already dead, its about coming back to the place you came from, its about family, its about the people left behind, the people who live in a place that is long gone and its also about horrific violence on the part of the player character . i love waving my nail around
you as the character, ghost, show up and you as the player don't know where you are. you're small and just about everything is your size or bigger, but so quickly you meet people. bugs who don't hurt you by interacting with them, bugs who aren't husks of themself walking. elderbug, who's alone and who's been alone for all this time, watching people fall into the depths and never come back out. you meet quirrel, curious and confused but knowledgeable. he knows this place, but he doesn't know how, he doesn't know WHY.
you find him all the time and its great because hes my best friend ever
you meet cornifer, and you always see his paper, hear his song, a sweet melody that lets you know that it's safe enough, here.
you meet hornet, who points her needle at you and speaks as though she knows more - because she does know more. she fights you because she needs to be sure that you can keep on going. can you keep on going?
you win. the little body that falls over when she leaves looks a lot like you.
your mission starts being laid out for you - you find monomon first, let's say. quirrel stands outside of her archives, knowing, knowing, knowing. you walk inside, you dodge the exploding jellyfish [monomon what the actual hell was the thought process, bless], you find yourself in a room, a floor of acid, blubbling, bubbling - Uumuu, and quirrel knows what to do here. he's the only one that can break through the protection, can allow you to hurt it, and after you beat it, he runs down to find the woman who caused all of this for him. his teacher, monomon, who sent him off with little more than her mask and a nail, to never come back unless she thought it was worth it to allow her seal to be broken
she knows what a broken seal means. i think quirrel might too. when you break the seal, she disappears, and she disappears forever.
[the knights are tragic in their own right. hegemol, gone, other than his armour, puppetted by a maggot - the memory of a great knight fallen down to a home to a scared creature in a body too big for it. isma, turned to greenery, no way to leave, nothing left to give but her single tear - the only blessing she can offer. dryya, her final stand outside of her queen's hiding place - a knight till the end, but for what? she could have survived, but she didn't, all for her queen. ze'mer, holding on only to give a final gift to her dead love - she just needed that final flower to her dearest's grave before she could let herself go. and ogrim, the last and alone, living as well as he can, finding enjoyment in his simple and zombified opponents - hiding the way he misses his friends in a small cave beneath the surface.]
lurien is terrifying - 6 knights out of what was once 13 to protect him, and yet you go up to his tower, a long and lonely elevator ride, and there is no one there but him and his butler. well protected, but so alone.
herrah is at home. you can see it - she has no final boss to protect her because her home is treacherous all on its own. you find her in one of the webs of deepnest, one of the nests themselves - she isn't at her place of work like either of the others; or, perhaps, she is, as queen of deepnest.
when you break her seal, her daughter sits there, solemn.
"she was my mother," hornet says. "i think i'm allowed to grieve."
your own mother, the queen, the root, hidden away from the horrors that cover this world, gives you half of the kingsoul. her husband's soul, broken in two, one piece of it hers, and now yours. she thinks you can save the kingdom - clean up this mess
the other half - your father's - is with him, in his palace long gone. it's kept so close to him - through this memory where you must traverse a castle much sharper than it ever would have been in life. you take his half of the soul from him, and you go.
if you meet hornet for the second time, in the place where what was once your father rots, she has to fight you again. this isn't just to make sure you're prepared for hallownest anymore - this is for the king's brand. this is for the closest kept secret of the king, of your and hornet's shared father. this is for the truth of you.
you beat her. you enter the abyss. you go down.
the floor is littered with skulls much like yours. this isn't scattered here or there. this isn't some here or there. they are the floor beneath your feet, and when you go further down, you see that there are so many more than you could have ever imagined. and down, down, down, there is an egg. you see your reflection in it, and you remember.
you climbed this once, while your siblings rained down around you. you did well - made it all the way up when others couldn't, but you failed the last jump.
at the top, someone else got there ahead of you. they saw you, there, hanging on to the ledge, but then your father walked away, and they walked too.
you fell.
the kingsoul isn't his soul anymore. it's your heart. voidheart.
you make your way out. up, to the egg, to where the seals have been broken, to where the infection that puppeteers these people begins, and you go inside.
your sibling - 7 times your size - hangs there in chains. they let you fall once.
you break the chains and let them fall.
they're in pain, the source of the infection trapped inside of them and wanting out.
you don't know much, but you know how to fight. if nothing else, you can try to weaken them - weaken the power within them.
hornet comes to help, pressing her needle to their forehead and keeping them still. you unsheathe your dreamnail and find the world within them.
when you look off towards the sun, when you raise your nail, the sun spreads her wings in response.
the radiance cries out.
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mrslittletall · 3 years
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saw your whump post, honestly the "I'm fine" screams Hornet to me, so it'd be cool to see that! - dooblebugs
Title: The Idol Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: Hornet & Little Ghost Word Count: 2.825 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30941981
Summary: After the Hollow Knight is freed from the temple, Hornet does her best to take care of the ones that are still left in Hallownest. Everything should be fine... until it isn't.
(Author's note:  @dooblebugs
I thought about using canon verse with “Almost everyone lives AU” or your Mer AU. But ultimately, canon verse won, because I still miss some context for the Mer AU. I hope you enjoy.)
Hornet opened her eyes and jumped on her feet right away. Her day would always start with hunting and gathering food, preferably before Hollow woke up and tried to move, and it was a whole other problem trying to haul a bug their size back into bed, especially when they rigorously ignored their wounds.
While Hornet trusted Quirrel and Cloth enough to leave Hollow in their care for a while, she always felt better if she could look over them personally. However, the longer she hesitated with leaving, the longer she would need to come back, so Hornet left the house in Dirtmouth they had inhabited for Hollow's recovery and went towards the crossroads.
The little pitter-patter of tiny feet next to her prompted Hornet to look down. Ghost had decided to accompany her again. They always would. She could tell them a hundred times to stay behind, they would never listen. For a vessel meant to be void of mind, Ghost was one of the bugs with the strongest will that Hornet ever had seen.
“You will still come with me, even if I say no, right, little Ghost?”, Hornet said, shouldering her needle. Ghost didn't nod or sign at her, they simply stared, with their unblinking, never changing expression. It was enough for Hornet to know that they wouldn't leave.
“Alright, but don't get into my way.”, Hornet said. At this, Ghost swung their nail and jumped in front of Hornet in a pose that depicted a challenge, then their nail went down on the ground in a strike, the swing of it breaking through the calmness of the morning.
“I know! I know! You've beaten me twice, but... I have gone easy on you.”, Hornet half hissed. It was a blatant lie and she knew it. The first time she had simply underestimated them (or she simply had become tired of fighting) and the second time... she had given it her all and they still had remained victorious. In a sense, Ghost was the new king of Hallownest, but they didn't seem to put any mind on the title. They didn't even seem to be wanting to be celebrated for being the saviour of Hallownest. They simply joined Hornet every morning for hunting and went off on their own afterwards, always coming back to play with their friends in Dirtmouth.
As the both of them jumped down the well, Hornet couldn't help but think about that there wasn't much to rule anymore. This kingdom was in shambles. It had been two weeks and the dried off infection still crusted the crossroads, too little bugs alive to care much about cleaning the place up. It was becoming more and more difficult to get food, because so many of the infected had simply been reanimated husks, without any meat left in them.
They surely would have to wander to Greenpath again, hopefully finding a few vengeflies and mosscreeps to bring home.
Hornet was used being alone. She had been alone for a very long time. She had managed. She never was lonely... well, maybe a little lonely and now there was a bunch of strangers up in Dirtmouth who relied on her. Hornet never wanted for anyone to rely on her. She had seen what happened when bugs relied on someone and... there wasn't a solution.
She looked down on Ghost again, they had their nail on the ready and stared vigilantly in front of them. They must have crossed this crossroads a dozen times on their journey, still expecting to be attacked by the infected every given minute. Hornet could understand that it was hard for them to let go of old habits.
She was the same. She never let go of her needle as well. Even with the infection never being able to come back, she had to remain vigilant. She would protect her siblings, no matter what. She wouldn't, no she couldn't, let anyone down.
“We are nearing Greenpath.”, she said, only to cut through the silence between them. She knew it wasn't Ghost's fault that they didn't have a voice, but after years of not being able to talk to anyone, Hornet barely could stand the silence, when there was someone she could talk to. “Remember, when we hunt the mosscreeps, take their leaves as well, for the herbivores.”
While Hornet was able to eat plant matter as well, it never had been satisfying to her. She was the daughter of a spider and a wyrm, both predators, and therefore she usually would hunt for food. She was unsure about what kind of diet Ghost and Hollow needed, but they seemed to be content with the prey she brought back, so she wouldn't change anything about it.
“And remember, we can't hunt too much. The population needs a chance to recover.”, she said as well. The infection had done a number on the whole of Hallownest... it wasn't a surprise that there was such a food shortage. In fact, Hornet had cut her own food intake in favour of her siblings and anyone who couldn't hunt or still needed to recover. That bug, Tiso, came to mind. Had a far too big stomach for having been utterly destroyed by the colloseum of fools. Why Ghost had dragged him back to Dirthmouth, she would never understand.
Ghost showed that they understood with a little nod of their head and the both of them entered Greenpath. It was a MUCH nicer place without the infection, but they still had to pay attention, the fool eater plants were easy to overlook (not that Hornet had ever overlooked them, but Ghost tended to forget...) and there were some predators still around, though they were no match for her needle. The problem was to avoid them to not hunt too much. Like she had said to Ghost, they needed to give the population time to recover, if they wouldn't want all to starve beforehand.
“We get only enough for everyone back in Dirtmouth.”, Hornet said again. “Then we leave again. Let's search for some mosscreeps first.”
The both of them jumped and slashed their way through the vegetation of Greenpath. While Hornet preferred to use her needle, Ghost had found a lot of new ways to move around since the first time they fought and they dashed (literally leaving their shell behind and somehow phasing through time and space) and jumped with wings that reminded Hornet of her father... and she got a bad feeling in her guts every time she saw them.
After a bit of time, they had managed to hunt two vengeflies to bring back, Hornet keeping them cocooned up for transportation and were now searching through the vegetation for some mosscreeps. Finally, Hornet found one and struck it down with her needle, preparing a cocoon for it again, when Ghost picked something up from the grass.
“Ghost, what do you have there?”, Hornet asked. The item was too small to be prey and they tended to hoard stuff they found. It probably was just something that was completely worthless nowadays, only generating Geo when given to this historian in the City of Tears. She still wanted to know.
Ghost came over and laid the thing they had picked up in her outstretched hand. When she looked down on it, she froze.
It was a King's Idol, the item that the citizens of Hallownest had crafted to worship her reclusive father. Each of them looked different, but they all shared the general shape and depicted his most salient feature: The horns that resembled a crown.
Staring down at it, something in Hornet broke. It might have been the stress she felt since Ghost had arrived. Or the fact that Hollow recovered from years of abuse from both the gods of Hallownest. Or that she was running on an empty stomach most of the time. But once she saw that thing, all her frustration crashed down on her at once.
You!”, she hissed. “It was all your fault! You knew that the plan wouldn't work! You knew that they would suffer and you still have let it happen! The teacher, the watcher, my mother, all sacrificed for nothing! And then, in the moment you were needed the most, you vanished, you damn coward! We needed you! I needed you! I hate you. I hate you and I can't even say it to your face anymore!”
Hornet threw the king's idol on the ground with so much force that it skipped on the ground and then fell on her knees, slowly getting aware of the tears on her face and the presence of little ice cold hands patting her arm.
“I am fine.”, she said, wiping the tears away. Just a moment of weakness, nothing else. Even though she could feel the judgemental stare of Ghost, she was fine. She had to be. “Seriously, I am fine.”, she continued once more. “Let's continue hunting.”
As Hornet was putting her composure back together, she didn't notice how Ghost continued to stare at her, picking up the idol from the ground, and only starting to move again once she called out for them.
The hunt had been more or less successful. At least they had found enough prey that nobody should go terribly hungry (at least when Hornet halved her own portion again). As usual, hunting had taken the better part of the day. Hornet would have liked to go hunt at some different locations, but the Old Stag from the stag ways wasn't around lately, apparently he was taking care of some personal business. With him not being around, it was just too far to walk to the Fungal Wastes or Deepnest, at least not when she wanted to come back the same day.
Currently Hornet took in her meal in Hollow's room with Ghost present as well. She was busy thinking about if there was another route that would make sure she could hunt elsewhere but Greenpath for once, when she felt a nudge. When she looked down, she saw how Ghost offered them a half of their mosscreep, holding the prey up in their little hands, seemingly eagerly awaiting for her to take it.
“I can't take this, Ghost.”, Hornet said. “You need all the food you can get, you are still growing.”
Ghost cocked their head and for once their eternal deadpan expression was on point. Hornet knew how ridiculous her argument was. Ghost had been born before her. They hadn't grown in years. Their body had been unable to grow because they didn't had access to void. “You know what I mean.”, she defended herself. There was the possibility that Ghost would start to grow as long as they stayed in Hallownest.
Ghost offered their meal a little while longer and then gave up with a little frustrated stomp of their foot. It was then when Hornet felt another nudge... this time it was Hollow, who had simply watched the scene unfold in front of them, offering their part of their meal.
“Oh no, not you too, Hollow.”, Hornet sighed. “You need the food much more than me, you are still recovering. I won't accept anything from you.”
The both vessels shared a look and once again Hornet asked herself if they could talk to each with some kind of void telepathy, before both of them looked at the ground in defeat.
“I am fine.”, Hornet repeated herself, she knew that. “Really, I am fine...”
Hornet awoke the next morning... not because her stomach cramped and she had trouble sleeping because of it, but because someone nudged her. She cracked one eye open and murmured: “It's barely morning...” She just craved to go back to sleep, to forget about the day in front of her for a few minutes longer, but the nudging got more and more intense, until she shouted: “Fine! I am getting up! Stop bothering me!”
It was Ghost in front of her and immediately Hornet stopped being annoyed. What if something had happened? “Is something the matter with Hollow? Or is a threat approaching the village?”, she asked, already fumbling for her needle, once again forgetting that Ghost was more than capable of defending the village themselves. They just looked too much like a little, defenseless child, even though Hornet had experienced otherwise.
Gladly, Ghost shook their head, though this put Hornet right back into annoyance. “Then why have you woken me up?”, she said, falling back down in her pillows, ignoring the urge to close her eyes and looking at Ghost again, making sure to give them a judgemental stare.
Ghost did grip something under their cloak (wings? Hornet never knew what this thing around the vessels was) and after a bit of struggling, they produced a jar... a jar filled with honey. The smell actually made Hornet's mouth water. Honey was one of the few things she liked to eat that wasn't meat, mostly because she had trained in the Hive in her youth.
Though, as lucky as she felt about having more food, she couldn't help but scold Ghost. “Ghost, did you get this on your own? The Hive is dangerous, even without the infection! What if the Hive Knight would have found you?”
Ghost shook their head and then outstretched their hand, showing Hornet a shiny little charm. A charm she remembered. The charm of the Hive. “Wait, you have been there and challenged him already?” Hornet wanted to be surprised, but Ghost couldn't really surprise her anymore. When they could surprise her somehow, then it was that they were full of surprises.
“Anyway... I guess I have to thank you, though I don't approve that you sneak out at night into the Hive.”, Hornet murmured. “At least we have more food for the group now..”
Ghost rigorously shook their head and pressed the jar in her hands. “For me?”, Hornet asked and Ghost nodded.
“But... Ghost, I appreciate it, but I don't need.. the others need the food much more than...”
Another shook of their head and a stomp of their foot along with crossed arms and a slight turn around. Hornet suddenly felt very small, she had never seen them that upset.
“Alright, alright...”, she said. “Maybe I have eaten insufficient lately...”
Ghost nodded again and gave the jar of honey another press, so that she had to hold it firmly in her hands.
“Alright alright...”, Hornet finally gave in. “I will take your offer, Ghost.”
As she opened the jar, her hunger became more and more apparent and soon she dug in and had finished the whole jar in what felt like no time and finally, for once, she didn't feel overly hungry. Satisfied even.
She then saw Ghost holding up something. A little rock with a few letters written on it. Lately Cornifer had given them writing lessons, though it still was a work in progress.
“Fine?”
That was the word they had painted on the rock (where did they even have the colours from?).
“I am fine.”, Hornet said. “This time for real. I am sorry, Ghost, I shouldn't have lied to you. I just feel so... responsible for everyone. I can't show weakness in front of anyone.”
Ghost shook their head again and then got something out. Hornet recognized it as the King's Idol they had found in Greenpath. They tossed it at the ground, just as she had done and then hit it with their nail, leaving a notable crack in it.
“You as well don't have the best memories of him, right?”, Hornet said. Both of them had been left behind, though in a different kind of way. Ghost had been discarded and Hornet had been left with responsibility far too huge for her age.
Ghost nodded again and gave the King's Idol another smack, so that it landed in front of her. Hornet took it into her hands and stared at it. She did miss him, that she had to admit to herself, but she also knew that her anger and her disappointment were real and there was no reason to hide it in front of Ghost.
She squeezed the Idol until it cracked into two pieces and just watched as they fell down. “Thank you, Ghost.”, she said. “But make sure to not tell Hollow about this.”
The way Hollow idealized their father... it would break their heart seeing his image being defiled like that.
Another quick nod and then Ghost actually got another one out, their face clearly saying: “Wanna break another?”
A grin crept over Hornet's face. She would never get her mother back or escape her responsibilities, but at least she could vent out her frustrations, even though it took her sibling for her to realize.
“Oh you bet I want.” (Author's note: Little Ghost is kinda fun to write. I think they are a character mostly showing what they feel through body language and it was fun to come up with how they would act. I also like to think that they can stare very judgemental, even though their expression never changes, a stare of them can make anyone falter. Hornet's relationship to PK is... complicated. He hasn't actually been a bad father to her, but as the infection came back and depression took over, he left her alone more and more and she got angry about it... especially when he decided to just vanish. She felt utterly betrayed by it and it is a huge source of her frustration and anger. I put in some little references to the game in there, try to find them if you please.)
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wevegottogetaway · 4 years
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Whirlwind - Part 1
Hello lovelies, 
It’s a genuine and nerve-racking pleasure for me to launch my very first series Whirlwind. If you like the sound of TopGun!Harry, this story is just about made for you. I really put my whole and then some in this first chapter, and really hope it’ll get a few of you hooked up. Anyway, the whole story should be about 10 Parts and I’ll try and update as fast and regularly as I can. I won’t say much more except enjoy and don’t be afraid to let me know if you do!! Any feedback of any kind or absolutely welcome!
All the happiness xx
Part I - Mistral
Time seems to slow down but the speedometer on Aella’s Triumph says otherwise. As the needle flirts with the 124mph mark, it’s hard to tell wether she’s the one chasing after the wind or the other way around. Miles after miles, her beloved motorbike swallows up the empty road offering itself before her, almost begging her to throw speed limits cautions to the wind. Speed has no secret for Aella though. Brown eyes steady on the asphalt, her focus is unswerving. Yet, she’s never felt more free and insouciant. 
Except maybe when she’s flying. 
In the tight confine of her Tomcat, as she defies other kinds of laws, Aella seeps in a whole new world. One where she makes her own physics, her own rules. One where the sky in no longer a limit and neither is her gender. Because when she occupies the cockpit of the F-14 - a baby only a handful of aviators are lucky to even sit in - she’s just that: an aviator. A squadron unit who receives missions and completes them. Once her feet tread the tarmac though, the reality is quickly sobering. That’s why Aella has learnt to savor each one of the limited hours she spends in the in-between realm of the stratosphere.
Tilting her head briefly to look at the clear sky above her, Aella lets a smile grace her lips as she realizes she’ll be back up there very soon. And in high amounts at that. A few years ago, she could have only dreamt to be recruited as part of the most elitist of naval aviation programs in the world. But after years of working twice as hard as her fellow Navy fighter pilots and putting up with their never-ending bullying, her resilience has finally paid off. 
On that note, those douchebags can respectfully kiss her ass (the memory of their crest-fallen faces when their Commander announced her promotion in front of all of them is still one of her favorite).
Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just life. But no matter how serendipitous the death of Navy fighter Jonathan Evans, she’ll be the one taking his place in the US Navy’s Fighter Weapons School’s Top Gun program. It was a regrettable news but one that changed Aella’s destiny forever.
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San Diego’s sun is just as blazing as LA’s, but the nice breeze the city benefits from neighboring the ocean makes it easier to breath. The streets are void of the usual hustle and bustle that inhabits the city of angels, but the palm-trees-lined streets seem to remain a consistent feature of the Californian landscape. 
After driving in two hours what should have been a three hours ride, Aella finally pulls up in front of a single-story condominium situated on the street that runs alongside the shore. Taking in the magical scenery that surrounds her new place, she finds herself standing front row for the sun’s crepuscular show.
Aella has always loved sunsets. She fell in love with their ephemeral hues when she was 7 and already wanted to make the sky hers. At 25 years of age, they now serve as a reminder that regardless of the fact she knows it like the back of her hand, the blue immensity still withholds secrets that are meant to remain forever’s mysteries. 
Aella finally makes her way to her new home and her eyes immediately fall on the three large boxes that she had sent from LA the week prior, as per US Navy’s request. Waiting for her on the floor, they seem quite a bit lonely in the otherwise empty room. The place is small but well designed enough to be comfortable. The L-shape kitchen directly on the right upon entrance shares one main open space with the living room and dining room, though the term "room" is to be taken loosely. Mostly, they consist of a dining table placed in the center, and a sofa facing a TV set at the back. Between the two, french doors lead the way to a small garden; just enough space for a sun lounger and a small outdoor table. 
Aella doesn’t expect to be around much as most of her days will be spent at the training center, but as she starts unpacking, she can already picture herself living there anyway. Early runs on the beach, morning coffees out with the birds chirping the news of the day and some lazy reading on the lounger when she’s lucky to have a day off. That night, as she lays on her bed waiting to be taken in Morpheus’ arms, Aella relishes in the jitters of happiness that course through her whole. 
She can’t remember the last time she was so impatient for tomorrows. 
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To say the San Diego Fighter Weapons School’s campus is huge would be an understatement. Aella has been on plenty bases during her short naval aviator career, but they all pale in comparison with the three massive hangars standing ahead of her. Deeply rooted on these holy grounds, they serve as home for no less than 30 of the most powerful aircrafts ever designed in the world. Perched on her Triumph, Aella can’t help but slow to a more moderate speed as she drives past them. She can feel her heart bouncing in joy at the sight of the F-14 Tomcats, F/A-18 Hornets and F-16 Fighting Falcons neatly aligned like pawns on a chessboard ready to be pressed into service. 
Finally, the main buildings come into view. They house all the administration offices as well as lecture and conference rooms. Indeed, part of the Top Gun program takes place indoors (that is to say not in a cockpit) as trainees are taught advanced combat strategy, theories of air-to-air and air-to-ground missions, and most painful of all, the riveting matters of astrophysics. In addition to their scientific knowledge and flying skills, the recruits will also be tested on their physical fitness. 
That’s what Aella dreads the most. While she could probably recite all of Newton’s laws in her sleep and fly a supersonic twin-engine, variable-sweep wing fighter aircraft with an arm in a cast, she’s positive the physical examination is what might give her the most trouble. Not that she’s in bad shape. Obviously one has to be quite fit to be able to handle 25 tons of titanium rocketed at more than 1500mph. But alas, the minimum requirements generated by the State for the final physical examination have yet to be adapted to female dispositions. 
The military field has definitely still plenty of room left for improvement when it comes to women’s interests… 
Two men in their service uniforms are casually conversing in the parking lot when Aella pulls up with her Triumph. One seems to be in the middle of a thrilling story judging by his gesticulating limbs, while the other listens to him cigarette pinched between his lips. As soon as the latter’s eyes fall on Aella though, he interrupts his friend with two taps on his torso. The shock on his face quickly turns into a condescending smirk as his eyes shamefully scan Aella from head to toe. His friend turns around intrigued and it’s not long before his features mirror the same irksome smug. 
For a few seconds too many, Aella doesn’t react. She simply stares at the jerks standing a few feet from her like they might be two very realistic-looking hallucinations. A sick jock her brain is playing on her by materializing ghosts from her past when she’s least expecting them. Aella doesn’t know who she’s the most angry at: Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum for looking at her like she’s a hot commodity or herself because she’d let her guard down. 
It takes all of her self-control and then some to keep her from rushing over and giving them a piece of her mind. Instead she just swallows back the crude remarks she’s dying to throw at them and puts her uniform cap on. Maybe there weren’t checking her out but the Triumph behind her instead. Maybe she just bumped into the two assholes of the program. Maybe the 13 other recruits will turn out to be actual decent human beings who acknowledge women’s worth in the Navy and will treat her as an equal. Aella tries to keep the positive thoughts coming as she heads towards the main building for the induction speech.  
Still, she can’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  
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The effervescence of the conference room is almost palpable as loud chatter and boisterous laughters bounce off its walls. Taking in the glorious sight of her fellow trainees, Aella already feels like an outsider. Easily distinguished by their uniform, they’re all bantering like they’ve all known each other their entire life, even though the program hasn’t officially started. 
From afar she recognizes the two dumbasses from the parking lot sitting on tables as they’re gathered around a balky blond man completely sprawled out on a chair with aviator sunglasses tucked in the front of his kaki shirt. Because of his lazy posture, he has to look up at his disciples but it is clear that he’s the last person to be looked down on. 
Aella already despises the narcissistic vibe he exudes. That disdainful and self-assured attitude which makes her want to rip his stupid head off. It’s certainly not the first of his kind she’s had to partially work with and sadly, it will definitely not be the last.
"Oi, Rex! How’s it goin’ man?" Another block yaps.
"Snyder," Rex chuckled. "‘Was doin’ good till ya ugly face showed up"
"Ah, ’s not what the ladies say…"  Snyder replies, completely unfazed by the playful dig made at him.
"That’s cause you woo them drunk, you bastard." The whole group of them burst in laughters as Snyder rolls his eyes. 
"Speaking of lass, I heard there was a bird joining the ranks with us? ’S up with that?" 
Aella immediately stiffens as she hears the dreaded words. Ones that make it crystal clear she’s gonna be the odd one out right from the start. Not to be mistaken, Aella takes great pride in being one of the very few female fighter pilots of the US Navy but all the self-confidence in the world couldn’t amount to the loneliness she always feels on base. Amongst the ‘mates’, she’s never more than a co-pilot, watching from afar her colleagues’ relationships blossoming from mere work affiliations to ones of brotherhood. 
Finally making her way to the last seat available in the audience, Aella feels the energies in the room drastically shift. Voices are no longer clashing in rowdiness; instead, the air is charged by the intensity of the quiet stares following Aella’s silhouette. However, the silence is interrupted by the sound of a flirtatious whistle that does no wonder for her already-tested nerves. God does she hate men sometimes. 
"Well, well, well…look at that guys. I think the eagle has landed its cute ass down."
Aella is about to pop a knuckle from how hard she’s clenching her fists. How foolishly naive she was to believe that things would be different. That joining Top Gun with the "best of the best" would give her solace from the incessant chauvinistic behaviors she’d been so used to. If anything, the prestige of their accomplishments has exacerbated the arrogant disposition of their ego-inflated character. 
Aella knows better than to respond though. No matter how quick-witted the comeback, it never works in her favor. So once again, she just takes a deeper breath and settles in her seat facing forwards. She is saved from hearing more about her eagle ass by two impressive figures marching in the room towards the front. Postures straighten, smirks vanish and a de facto silence ensues at the officers’ arrival. Respect is almost tangible in the air, and it has little to nothing to do with the plethora of decorations adorning their white uniforms, and everything to do with the aura of invincibility transpiring in their intimidating gaze. 
"Gentlemen," one of them starts before tilting his head towards Aella and adding a soft "ladies." He then proceeds with a quick scan of the room. Years of experience standing on that very same stage have forged the unyielding yet somewhat benevolent eyes landed on the students’ expecting faces. 
"You were probably told that you were here because you are the best of the best. Well, let me set things straight: you’re not. Not yet anyway. You might be lieutenants out there, but on these grounds, you are nothing but students. My job, is to make you unbeatable up there. Your job, is to trust me in doing so. That means no challenging orders and no cocky attitude or any funny business. If you respect that, you might have your name on one of these plaques in 5 weeks. Until then, work your hardest. My name is Aaron Berks and I am your Commander. Everyone, welcome to Top Gun."
Commander Berks offers a light smile to his audience, and Aella has a feeling it’s not a sight she will be privy to very often. She likes him though. He seems intransigeant but wise, proud but not arrogant and no matter how cold his exterior, he has the warmth of a master who looks after his apprentice. A caring facet that resembles that of fatherhood, and Aella knows she’ll be able to trust Berks just like he asked in his introduction speech.
After a brief silence, the class’ attention is once again captured by one of the officer. Taller and bulkier, this one is definitely missing that fatherly vibe Aella is so found of. "Gentlemen, I am Lieutenant Commander Wayne Rogers, I will teach you the art of naval strategy in flight combat alongside Commander Berks. You will also have the pleasure to have me whip your asses in physical testing. As you know, Top Gun is structured around 3 ranges of expertise, naming: naval strategy both in theory and practice, advanced astrophysics knowledge and physical training. Needless to say, you will be tested in more ways than one. And just a heads-up, I don’t do no favor to anyone."  
Aella cringes for a second as she wonders if there is any implicit lines to read behind Lieutenant Rogers’ clipped tone. She already dreads the time she will have to spend under his teaching. 
She doesn’t have the time to dwell on it though, before Rogers resumes his speech. "Anyway, enough with the pretty words, let’s go over the program. As you know, the 16th of you will form 8 crews who will be confronting us instructors to master advanced dogfighting tactics. Each of the 25 missions you will be assigned during the program will earn you points. Your aptitudes in physical training will also earn you point, as well as your results in astrophysics evaluations. I’m sure you can guess who wins the Top Gun trophy at the end of the program. Bear in mind, that all instructors have the right to deduct points from your score should they deem your actions or behavior disrespectful, underserving or quite simply unacceptable. On that note, welcome to Top Gun, class dismissed."
As soon as Lieutenant Rogers voices the discharging words, the room is once again caught in a rambunctious nebula of clacks and clatters. Everyone is making their way out when the commander’s voice transcends the ongoing commotion; steady and resonant. 
"Officers Styles and Lonethorne." 
Aella’s brows immediately wrinkle as she recognizes her last name. Turning around, she sees Commander Berks intently looking at her as if beckoning her over. Obediently she thus makes her way up to the front of the room where Berks hasn’t moved an inch since the beginning of the induction. Soon she realizes she’s being followed by a tall lanky man. His face, objectively handsome, doesn’t seem to show anything but Aella doesn’t have much time to further study his features as she finally reaches her commander. 
"I wanted to welcome you both personally given the circumstances. Styles, you have my support and condolences. Lieutenant Evans was a very fine man and gifted flyer." Aella is a bit thrown off by the declaration. It takes her an extra second to figure out the reason of her presence for this discussion. Once she does, her attention is immediately drawn to the silent man standing next to her, his face still not displaying any feelings like his skin was made of cold marble. 
"Harry, this is Aella Lonethorne. Her former chief has nothing but praises to say about her flying skills. She will be your partner for the next 5 weeks." A nod and the brief connection of his emeralds to Aella’s sapphires seems to be all the assertion elicited from Harry. No handshake, no hello, not even the pucker of a brow. Commander Berks might as well have announced the refectory’s lunch menu, the lad’s reaction would have been the same. 
"Miss Lonethorne, it’s a pleasure to have you on base, I have no doubts you two will achieve great things together." It is such a relief for Aella to realize her first impression of Berks was spot on. He is the kind of manager that leads with strength in his fists but encouraging lyrics on the edge of his lips. There is no hint of condescension fueled by the power high of his status coloring the tone of his voice. It’s something Aella has seen a few times. Pleasant comrades turned into aloof leaders full of bitterness from their years of submission and laden by the hierarchy’s expectations. Commander Berks never yielded to that pressure though, it was clear in his wholesome nature.  
"Thank you Commander, it’s a real honor." Aella responds in genuineness.
"Alright, I’ll leave you to it. See you both on the tarmac" he exclaims with a smile before making his way out. Berks departure leaves enough room for tension to settle between the newfound partners like a third interlocutor taking the warmed place of their superior. Similar in presence, though not as loud. 
Harry is still keeping mum, unfocused eyes staring somewhere far off on the floor while his mind appeared to be wandering the secret passages of never-never land. It freaks the hell out of Aella though she doesn’t show it. They are a team now though. They’re supposed to trust, rely on each other and have the other’s back no matter what. Yet, she doesn’t even know the sound of his voice and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna give her the time of day anytime soon. 
Aella is about to speak up when Harry suddenly shakes his head out of its hypnotic trance. For a second she thinks he’s gonna initiate conversation himself but instead he just tilts his head in her general direction and rasps a weak ‘see you’ before storming off the room. Aella is left in total disarray, she doesn’t comprehend why he’s acting like a 3 year-old running off because he’s scared to say hi to the new lady. Is it because she’s not what he expected in a partner? God she hopes not. He doesn’t strike her as a misogynistic prick, didn’t really show any sign of disgust or clear animosity. But then again he is impossible to read.
As she mounts her precious Triumph, Aella feels the dread resurfacing. It is such a big contrast to how she felt when she left this morning. All the thrill and elation that had bubbled in the pits of her stomach just evaporated into disillusion, leaving of fog of uncertainty in Aella’s frenzied mind. This was supposed to be a drama-free experience; a chance to be recognized and treated with respect. Instead she got barely acknowledged.
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The music coming out of Godspeed’s is so resoundingly loud Aella can feel the bass line thumping through her whole body. Standing across the street from the entrance, she’s still hesitating joining in the merrymaking even though she can hear the spirits calling out her name. Despite the crispiness of the air, a few rowdy souls are camping out front, obviously warmed over by the substance in their glass and the toxic stick between their lips. 
The dodgy pub never lacks in visitors no matter how threadbare the furniture, tacky the decoration and questionable the sanitation prove to be. Truth be told, the popularity of the place can be explain by one and sole reason: it is, lo and behold, the only bar on base. A fact that implies 99% of its customer base works in the US Navy, and thus explains why one could usually count on one hand the number of people dressed in day-to-day clothes.
Bracing herself, Aella finally makes her way inside the bar. The smell of booze and fries immediately invades her nostrils but she pays it no mind. Instead she takes in her surroundings from the swaying of hips on the torrid dance floor to tokens passionately thrown at a table with a following pair of aces. The sound of glasses clinking blends with that of drunken laughters and even drunker squawks. It’s nothing but good times and pent-up stress release, and for a moment Aella is really glad she decided to show up. 
She was told Induction’s Rave was not to be skipped.
Unfortunately, as she heads for the bar, Aella’s eyes fall upon a few familiar yet loathsome faces. It appears the infamous Rex and his phony clique didn’t want to miss out on the festivities either. Much to Aella’s dismay, they are all huddled around the counter monopolizing the bartender’s attention and just like that, she knows a relaxing night is not in her cards for tonight. There is no way she can walk out of this with both a drink in her hand and her composure intact. It would be too easy.
Strategically, she waits till the barman is done with them before voicing her request as inconspicuously as she can. "May I have a Vodka Martini, please?" she asks just as the bartender lifts his eyes from the counter he was wiping. She originally went for a pint but somehow she had an inkling it wouldn’t quite suffice. The guy nods and leaves to mix her precious elixir and just as she thinks she might make it through unscathed, the obnoxious voice she has come to strongly despise cuts through the pub’s damp air.  
"Gotta stop trying to play James Bond, darling. S’just not for you." Snickers. "Now, James Bond girl on the other hand, you definitely have the proper assets for that." Once again, every guy within Rex’s arm radius bursts into insipid laughter as the mockery tumbled out of his mouth. She doesn’t have to look his way to picture the disgusting smirk he must be sporting. The jerk. 
From the corner of her eye, Aella recognizes the lonesome lad sat at the far end of the bar, nursing a Bourbon with tinted cheeks and glossy irises. There is no doubt he’s in a slightly inebriated state but his participative chuckle still stings. Maybe even more so than Rex’s offensive words, for Harry is supposed to be her closest ally. She doesn’t expect him to jump to her defense, wouldn’t want him to anyway, but she’s profoundly disappointed he would find such humor in someone degrading her that way. The thought angers her so much, she doesn’t realize Harry is actually showing some kind of emotion at last. It’s not the one she wanted anyhow; not when it’s at her expense. 
She’s handed her drink before Rex speaks up again. "You think you can just sweep in and fight the bad guys with your pretty hair and 5 pounds muscles? I mean, come on darling, you’re not meant for the job. Just sit and look pretty like the others. Or fucking teach. You know what they say, right? Those who can’t, teach…”  She’d started to walk away at first but Rex’s lousy rant makes her halt in a sudden. “Anything but the fucking Navy, yeah? We have enough wannabes as it is."
Deep breath. Tight fist. Down the Vodka. Then she turns around and marches up to him, armed with daggers in her eyes and a punch away from feeling better. She doesn’t hit him though. Has more dignity and self-control than that. "You should really consider shutting your goddamn mouth before I show you just what I can or can’t do." Aella’s tone is cold; colder than the marble of Harry’s face earlier that day. 
As she expects, they don’t take her seriously and giggles erupt all around her. "Darling, I really wouldn’t mind," is what he replies with a suggestive lip bite and a smug that rivals her scowl in intensity. He’s dangerously toying with her last nerve and he knows it. Deliberately exploits it in the hopes of seeing her explode and then crumble into pieces. 
That’s how Aella knows she has the upper hand. She knows how guys like him work, what gets them going and their tactics to achieve that. But Rex has no clue what she’s like. He’s deluding himself into thinking he’s pushing her break-down button when in reality he’s in for something else. 
Nobody knows that yet, except maybe Harry. 
As a quiet and incredibly guarded individual, Harry proves to be a tremendous observer. It might come off as standoffish though he doesn’t mean to, but those who matter know and have accepted just how introverted his nature is. He knows he probably should have made an effort and better impression on his new copilot but the wound from his best friend’s loss is still too fresh to be bothered. They’ll get to talk soon enough anyway, is what he thought. Plus she didn’t really go out of her way to make an impression herself.
Now though, observing the sour interaction from afar, Harry’s starting to think differently. He shrugged Rex’s crude remarks, already used to the block’s insolence and admittedly amused at the childish antics. But as he becomes more attentive to Aella’s shifting stance, it is obvious to him that she’s not a person to ever take shit from anybody. 
His suspicions are proved right when Aella slowly closes the few steps between her and Rex until her eyes level with his. "Oh Rex. The thing with guys like you, is you feel empowered because power was handed to you on a fucking silver platter." All the while talking, she goes about removing his hold from his glass. "I could have pity for you, really. You think you’re good; you must even think you’re the best but you’re nothing more than a selfish privileged opportunistic prick who feels entitled to walk over anyone who won’t fucking bow down before you." Then she chucks the rest of his Whiskey in one swallow and places the empty glass back on top of the counter next to them.
"Oh yeah?" Rex smirks as he watches her face closely, casually leaning on the bar. It works in her favor as he fails to notice her hand creeping around his own. Then the next thing he knows is a tremendous throb shooting from the joint between his thumb and index, all the way through his arm and up to his neck. The pain is seizing and has him doubled up like it is suddenly to painful to even stand straight. Aella has never been more glad to learn a thing or two about pressure point.
"Yeah. And I might be smaller than you or less of a weightlifter than you are, but I can still bring you down whenever I want to. Don’t you forget that." He’s almost kneeling by now, arm twisted in a weird angle from where she’s still applying pressure on his hand. Rex’s acolytes seem to have lost their voice and giggles as they’re all taking in the sudden reversal of the situation. They have probably never seen Rex in such a submissive position, hence the dazed expression of stupor plastered on their faces.
Aella finally releases the whimpering man at her feet. She’s about to make her way out but she stops herself. "Oh and one more thing: you’re cocky, vile, and despicable, and one day, probably too late, you’ll realize your arrogance is what will fail you."
Satisfied with her last words, Aella looks up at the scene around her. Most people are still engrossed in what they were doing when she first came in, oblivious to the whole confrontation. Then just as she turns around, her eyes catch Harry’s broad frame, as though some magnetic field was coaxing them to his radiating force. She doesn’t delay her departure though. Her steps barely falter on the way out but her mind is left in whirlwind of thoughts. 
He was smiling. Shy and in the corner of his lips. But genuine and almost knowing, like he’d been rooting for her the whole time. And deep inside, for Harry to be on her side is everything Aella really hopes for.
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theassassinscape · 5 years
Text
*Insert good title* We're Home
Hi all!! So, um, first thing I've written, had an idea for this for a while. Hope y'all enjoy and feedback is appreciated!!
Language, angst and fluff if you look hard enough. 2,153 words, I went all out.
Bucky Barnes X mutant!reader
(I don't know man ❤️ italics are flashbacks)
"I think I'll do it." Bucky said, his hand holding his glass of whiskey so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Go on, she looks like she's about to leave," Steve encouraged, looking over to you, "I think it's worth a shot." He said, while taking an actual shot. Bucky never understood why they'd go out drinking. It's not like they could get drunk from everyday alcohol; the only time they'd succeed in doing so was when Thor had the Asgardian Liquor on him, and after Thanos was gone and Loki was back, he had recovered and barely touched alcohol. So the duo weren't too familiar with the feeling.
"I can't. Look at her. She could break my arm in 12 different places while still looking angelic," Bucky groaned, turning back around to face the bar, downing the rest of the whiskey. "I can't."
"Maybe if you say that to her she'll give you a chance? C'mon Buck, you barely go out, you need to give it a try!" Steve exclaimed, patting Bucky's shoulder. It made him sad; even though most of Bucky had returned, he wasn't fully here yet. It looks like he forgot how to have fun like he had in the 40's.
After ordering two more whiskey's Bucky finally plucked the courage to stand up and walk over to you. He locked eyes on you like you were a target, and squeezed between sweaty, dancing bodies, heart hammering in his chest as he got closer. What if you thought he was a creep? Just another guy trying to approach you? He was certain others had their eyes on you the entire night. But one thing he had noticed, is that your booth was entirely empty, and no one dared come close to it, except the barman bringing you your drinks. His train of thought had brought him right to your table without him noticing.
"Can I help you?" God, your voice was melodic. Charming and a little bit hoarse, like you've been speaking all night, yet soft. Bucky couldn't describe it. He could listen to it all night.
"Umm... I, uh, jus-"
"Not today, Barnes."
Bucky's eyes widened. You knew him? Oh God, what if you knew him as the Winter Soldier? As the monster he was? What if he had gotten into trouble somewhere that he doesn't know about?
"I-I'm sorry?" Bucky stammered,
"You should be." You said, crossing your arms and leaning back into the cushioning of the booth. Bucky couldn't help staring. "You left me at the funfair, you bastard."
The amount of confusion that had clouded Bucky's mind was overwhelming. He did not remember a single mission where his target was at a fair, nor does he remember a girl as beautiful as the one before him. Maybe one, but the image was blurry.
"Sit." You ordered. You could see him searching, eyes wide and panicking. You wanted to investigate if he remembers you or not before you revealed yourself. You wanted to make him wait, like he made you at the fair.
He sat down immediately, stiffly and clearly uncomfortably, but his eyes never changed the panic they showed.
"How's Stevie?" You asked without looking at him, your golden dress hiking up as you stood up to pick up the drink the barman brought over. Bucky gulped louder than he had thought.
"Is he here?" You mumbled into your drink as it neared your lips, eyes still not meeting his, even though you could feel his burning stare on your face, trying to figure you out. The noise seemed to die out; it was deafening to Bucky while he was at the bar with Steve, thanks to his enhanced hearing, but with her it all seemed to fade away. His focus was only on her.
He gulped again, "Yeah, he's at the bar."
"Why didn't you bring him over? I bet he would've recognised an old friend straight away," you said, gently placing your glass on the mahogany table. Your fingers began tracing the edge, eyes still not meeting Bucky's. It drove him crazy.
"Old friend?" He dared to scoot closer to you, leaning his flesh arm on the table and covering his metal hand. "What's your name?"
And then you looked at him, and you both said the same thing, "Y/N."
His breath had stopped in his throat. His jaw clenched, and eyes widened. It couldn't be true. Someone was messing with his head again. You're not here. The love of his life is not here.
"C'mon Buck! I wanna go on that one!" You had pointed to the tallest Ferris wheel Bucky had ever seen. Even the brave Steve Rogers would shake in his boots at the sight of it.
"Ooor we could just stay here, doll," Bucky pulled you back into his chest, ocean eyes adoring your enchanting y/e/c ones. "I could stare at you all night. I could spend the whole night with you here, sugar." Bucky said, grabbing your jaw gently, lips getting dangerously close to yours. Your hands had travelled to his chest, to his neck, through his soft, chestnut hair, until you had knocked his cap down to cover his eyes.
"You can stare at me all you want when we're on the wheel, Sarge," you giggled, fixing the collar of his uniform, "and if you're lucky, you'll spend the entire night with me too," you had poked his nose playfully, bouncing away like a child towards the ride.
He couldn't believe he was lucky enough to have you. All his. The woman he was gonna marry, the one he was gonna show off to his ma, to Steve, to the whole world. You had such a presence; no-one dared mess with you, you stood your ground and was always so painfully honest, but you were caring, loving and sweet, and so, so beautiful. Bucky would never believe he deserved you, no matter how many times you'd tell him he deserves even more.
That's when he saw Steve wonder into another army enlistment tent. He looked at you once more, to know where to find you, and walked over to Steve. He was measuring himself again, and finding he was a whole foot and a half too short. It almost made Bucky angry. Bucky would much rather be able to stay here, with you, and not fight in this damned war, like Steve could stay. But he couldn't be mad. Never.
"No."
"Yes."
He let out a breath, "no."
"What is it, Barnes?" Your question almost sounded like a growl, your stance immediately changing, like you were about to fight him.
"You can't be here. You can't, you're messing with me..." Bucky had covered his face with his hands. Had he drunk too much? No, that wasn't it. Someone was playing a cruel joke on him.
"I'm here Barnes, we've got some explaining to do."
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"This! You're messing with my head! Get out!" He had looked up, hands shaking, eyes glossy.
"I ain't going nowhere. This is my bar."
You had patiently waited. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15. Bucky still hasn't gotten back. You saw him follow Steve into another army enlistment unit. You were happy he was helping out his friend, but a little upset that he abandoned you on what could be your last date. At least before he came back.
"Y/N Y/L/N, correct?" A man in a dark, green suit had approached you. He was quite handsome, a dark stubble decorated his face, brown eyes darker than the night. He was nowhere near as handsome as Bucky though. Your Bucky.
"Yes, who's askin'?" You turned to him fully, crossing your arms before you.
"Hm, sassy for a mutant. You'll be useful."
You felt your heart in your throat. How did he know? You morphed your fingers into knives and held them to his throat discretely, fully aware that you were in a queue where you could get in plenty of trouble.
"I don't know who you are or how you know, but if you speak a word of this to anyone and you'll be my next fucking meal, you understand?" You whispered, eyes searching his.
"Or you'll be mine." He smirked at the needle in your arm, injecting a substance that looked like liquid metal. Your last thought before you fell into the man's arms was Where's Bucky?
You had destroyed half the Hydra facility within the first couple of hours being there. Turned into a mammoth and wrecked a lab, or a swarm of hornets and stung the lab workers until they were a pile of blisters. You had turned your fist into vibranium in order to break the glass that they had surrounded you with. All to no use. They always found a way of injecting you with that shit, and you’d always find yourself either on a bed or with a chair, strange machinery attached to your face. Within the thousands of years that you’ve been alive you’ve never felt so useless, so helpless. You only hoped you got to see Bucky again soon.
And you had. 1962. He looked horrible. He was covered head to toe in weaponry. And he didn’t recognise you. He wasn’t Bucky. He was the Winter Soldier. The thing that Hydra wanted to make you into but failed miserably. So they got the thing closest to you. They dehumanised the thing that made you feel most human. Was it to get back at you? You’d never know. But what you did know now was why you couldn’t find Bucky or his corpse after his 'death'. To say it had broke you was nothing. It destroyed you. Dr Zola was lucky he had put himself into those fucking computers because you couldn’t have ripped him apart any more for it. But that didn’t make any difference. Bucky wasn’t there anymore.
If only you two hadn’t wondered off at that funfair.
You had told each other everything in the backroom behind the bar. His eyes were filled with tears, and yours were no different. You had sat in your chair, while he on the sofa. This was the first time you’ve been this close in over 70 years. The first time you saw Bucky as Bucky, not as the Winter Soldier.
“So now you own bars across the world and work with drugs, guns, money and intergalactic businesses? Stop shitting me.”
“And you feed goats in a 'Third-world' country after making yourself into a ghost story?” you had mocked by making speech marks in the air.
“Sounds better.”
“You just fought a massive space grape, you think I’m shitting you?” you had asked, tears disappearing and eyes filled with anger instead.
“Why didn’t you help? If you have so much power, why didn’t you help? When we got dusted? When we were fighting?”
“I got dusted too, Barnes! And it wasn’t as quick! I didn’t get dusted fully until three years after it! Three. Fucking. Years, Barnes! And you think that army was all that Thanos had? I lost hundreds of soldiers trying to stop those ships! I lost friends Barnes!” the tears we’re back in your eyes
“I lost friends too!” Bucky cried, pointing at you
“Oh, as if you had any friends apart from Steve!” you had slumped back into your chair, glaring at him.
Bucky's head dropped. He blamed you. He blamed himself. Himself more. He didn’t look for you hard enough. Not during the war. Not after he got out of cryo. He was afraid, and still so in love with you. He had prayed every time when the brainwashed him that he’d remember you. Your smile. Your eyes, your hair, your laugh. But you weren’t there.
“I had Sam.” He whimpered.
“Wilson?” you asked. He came here sometimes. Always left with a girl. He seemed lonely.
“Yeah. And Nat.”
“Oh.” You knew who she was. Not only did you try bribing the Red Room into handing over a couple of the best girls they had to you, but you also trained some. One of them was Romanoff. Plus, she had a past with The Winter Soldier. And you made sure you knew everything you could. That shut you up a bit.
“I missed you,” Bucky looked up at you, eyes puffy, red and swollen, cheeks wet with tears. Your heart broke.
“I missed you too.” You had walked over to him and knelt before him, grabbing his hands with your left one and wiping tears from his face with your right. You felt so bad at that moment. Memories and feelings you’ve pressed down for so long resurfacing. You felt horrible.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” You whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, doll,” he smiled, more tears spilling down his cheeks. Oh, how you missed that smile. “We’re home.”
Let me know if you enjoyed it and what I can improve!!
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