silver springs

you can call me star, or really anything else. any pronouns. i'm not sure what i am so i don't really care what you call me + bisexual. outside of focusing way too hard on fanfic nonsense i do a whole slew of things but this "under the cut" is already long enough. this ain't my first rodeo posting on tumblr but i haven't uploaded writing on here before so. we'll see what happens

my dni is the normal extremes but i know people don't pay attention to it anymore so i'll just block if needed. no hard feelings intended

MCU-RELATED: im a very fresh face here compared to a lotta people. i got here through marvel rivals WHICH IS SAD I KNOW but i was avoiding getting into anything aside from spider-man for a while. i know a lot of the basic timeline (because i mean it's been quite a while since endgame) and have a soft spot for the cap trilogy but im trying to open my mind to all the other pieces here. theres too much in the mcu so just ask me if i seen it and i'll tell you atp. also let it be known i have consumed some comic stuff but unfortunately not a lot!

“Is it your turn to be sick now?”

It comes to it in when it cannot move. The Soldier, Asset, and such else is locked in a stare with the wall, left side of its body pressed to the floor. Long, brunet hair pools around its face and neck. Its body feels drops of sweat run down it despite the cold of the cell and reeks of everything it can think of, but it cannot be bothered to do much with itself. There would be no point. In front of the wall, however, there was suddenly a man. A scrawny thing, he is, with thin limbs and a paleness that rivaled the Soldier’s current state. His hair spikes up oddly, short and blond. His clothes don’t fit him quite right, but he lays comfortably beside him a few feet away all the same with a crook in his spine.

The Soldier doesn’t respond, but he elects to fill in the silence anyway. “You look like hell.” He says as he moves closer. Faintly, it feels his hand rubbing his shoulder, smooth flesh upon rough flesh. It seems so until his hand shifts to the calluses under his fingers. The Soldier cannot picture from what considering his fragility. It also supposes though that it doesn’t matter. The touch is comforting. This body knows it is safe somehow. The body releases some amount of tension, although it isn’t really aware where. In fact, it couldn’t even tell it was tense to begin with. 

“You’ll be okay. Just hafta fight through it, like you tell me, right?”

He has blue eyes. A deep blue hidden under blond lashes. They don’t shine down here, but the Soldier feels like they’re supposed to be doing so. They’re supposed to be damn near twinkling. And he’s smiling and it’s somehow gotten brighter, his mouth now revealing teeth and his nose scrunches at the bridge. The bridge is crooked. In some distant part of the body’s mind, the Soldier thinks he’s supposed to have moles, but it cannot spot them. The blond is too faraway. Not physically, but something else that the body can’t quite coordinate.

The man’s hand moved by now to rest over the Soldier’s own. It can feel some kind of squeeze before he fully withdrew. “You’ll be okay.” He repeats.

Okay from what? It wants to ask. The Soldier isn’t remembering a threat. Not one anymore.

“Sssteve…” The mouth opens and drawls out this word instead, hushed enough that its not even sure if it really did say it. It repeats it, feeling the word out. The name out. Where does it know this? Is that who its seeing?

But it supposed once more that it didn’t matter. It could not make a connection. Feeling another squeeze of its hand, its eyes slipped closed and the body simply rested. It rested until the bars of its cell rattled the body back to life.