#andagony

He knew he’d said the wrong thing the second the words left his mouth. But Steve wasn’t going to take them back. He’d stand by those words until breath left his body for good. How many times was he going to have to lose Bucky? What if the next time he couldn’t get him back again? 

A shiver of anger crept through him, but Steve managed to stamp it down. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault, but sometimes Steve just wished everything could go back to normal again. Whatever that was. Other people got to have friends and families and lovers; whereas he had to stand here and watch how his best friend became a stranger.

It was like everything that made Bucky Bucky was fading away and the Soldier was taking over. Steve opened his mouth to object, to apologise, anything... But the words turned to ash in his mouth. His palms itched as the solid arm under his hands was jerked away from him. Less than a foot between them but it might as well have been a mile. 

He’d told him to stop. He’d told him not to touch him. And even though Steve wanted to grab Bucky and yank him back, he didn’t. Boundaries. It was all about boundaries and respecting wishes, and Steve worried he’d already pushed too hard. Gotten away with too much. Far more any anyone else would have had the privilege of doing so.

His friend looked so lost... Destroyed. The sickness swaying him and Steve found himself putting his hands out to steady him, but stopped short as he remembered. Don’t touch him. Don’t touch him. Don’t scare him off more than he’d already intentionally done so. His shoulders were tense and his chest felt tight, selfish anger roiling together with deep seated concern.

“Buck... Bucky... It’s ok just... Calm down... Breathe... It’s..”

It was all that left his lips before the tinge of iron slicked over his tongue and pain shot through him. Anyone else could have struck him and Steve would have taken it in his stride. But this was Bucky. Coupled not only with the emotional pain, but that ( like him ) Bucky had been built up to be a weapon. They could go toe to toe at the best of times, but Steve often pondered that if it came to it, the Soldier would always best him.

“BUCKY!”

FINGERS  CURLED  ROUND  THE  HANDLE  OF  A  BLADE.   hand buried deep within a jacket pocket.  alert, determined, knapsack of things she’d needed or wanted placed deftly onto her back.  there was nothing to fear so long as she kept her wits about her  --  so long as she remembered to always stay one step ahead of every being she could get eyes on.  it was the ones she couldn’t see that allison worried about most.  lurking in shadows, just out of her line of sight.  but there had been enough peace.  enough silence that she hadn’t seen fit to worry as she approached her car,  san francisco had seemed decent enough for now.  until the crunch of gravel under feet that weren’t her own catches her ear. 

it’s a force of habit that has her drawing the knife from her pocket, wielded out, unafraid of the option of putting it to more use as she spins around.   ❛  DON’T COME ANY CLOSER.  ❜   spoken before she can take in features, before allison recognizes still human eyes  --  a flush of cheeks, not dull or drained of life  --  and relaxes, albeit only slightly.  there is no droop of her arm, no slip or lessening of gaze; she knows better than to assume people on the streets these days are friendly.  he may not look like much of anything,  may not spike a heart rate or bring a trepidation to her actions, and truly, allison’d like to believe she’s more than capable of handling this situation given how frail he seems, but she’d never underestimate a threat.  not now.  instead she eases back, leans a muscled frame back against the metal of her car door and arches a singular brow.

at the mere mention of a possible visit from a certain someone’s favorite uncle, the rogers household had been sent into a tizzy. mostly because sarah was too busy pulling out toys, artwork, and ACCOMPLISHMENTS to show off to the man upon his arrival. really, he should’ve left it as a surprise seeing as steve was now left to pick up the millions of tiny legos strewn across the floor of the living room, else he’d regret it later when he passed over them in the middle of the night. somehow more painful than a bullet wound. what kind of monster created these things? “ sarah, really. uncle clint won’t be here for another ten minutes. c’mere and help me pick these up. ” of course, the four year old only listens to so much, and spends a total of one minute tossing the legos back to their respective bin before gathering more belongings to sprawl across the couch. steve couldn’t bring himself to insist too much on her cleaning up — she didn’t get t’ see the guy too often. he had his own kids, after all. her favorite cousins. her only cousins for now.  at the rhythmic knock of a door, the captain couldn’t help how his own lips pulled to a smile, watching as her face brightened significantly and the blonde girl practically tripped over herself in her hurry to the door, swinging it open with all the fanfare of an excited child. 

far from home ( the raven )   //   sam tinnesz.

———————   THERE  WAS  NO  EXCUSE  FOR  IT.   for showing up.   for grinning from ear to ear as she dangled a takeout bag from the cantina.   or at least not one lola would ever consider voicing loud enough for anyone else to hear.    but she’d known well enough that he wouldn’t turn down the food,  let alone that she doubted he’d turn her away  --  even if he swore he might.   for all his talk of indifference,  castiel’d had a funny way of proving it;  mumbled suggestions of solutions,  despite the insistence he hadn’t been paying attention.   if anything,  she’d simply learned to read between the lines and make herself comfortable despite his grumbling.  

❛  i DID call.   twice.  ❜    once on the way to the restaurant,  another on her way out.   that he hadn’t answered only gave more of a reason to continue on her way to his place.   petite shoulders rising and falling,  dark hues shifting from familiar features to look inside,  ‘round limbs to search for the fur covered face she knows will be happy to see her.   at least demon’d never pretended to have better things to do than curl up next to her,  or even so much as thought to act like the food in the bag wasn’t worth an hour or two of venting.   nose wrinkling as she settles back onto the heels of her sneakers,  the curl of her lips into a teasing grin is one she can’t hide.   ❛  i think you’d do it for less,  depending on how hungry you were.  ❜

    EYEBROW COCKED WHEN THE OTHER STARTED TO SPEAK, comic book put aside with silent moan. was he trying to mock her again ? just because amelia had turned into something different than him, actually developing girlish features, did not meant she was about to wear pink high heels and lipstick ! death glare tucked at blonde, the poor victim needed a few moments for proper reaction.  ❛  since i use this WONDERFUL banana hair mask, it really changed a lot, didn’t it ? AND THAT SMELL !  ❜  slight movement of fingers, playing with a strand of brunette, playful attitude she had seen way too often on the schoolyard. probably amelia should really start behaving more like a creature of her own gender ? grungy rock music and dark clothes did their job as well, but every attempt to be a bit more feminine was spotted immediately by her best friend. what a shame.  ❛   —— hey !  ❜ , she finally added when elbow found its way into teenage boys side.  ❛   are you trying to make fun of me, little weirdo ?  ❜  serious facial expression not to be held, instead laughter following where dramatically acted anger should be.  ❛  that’s not nice, you know ? you are DEEPLY HURTING MY proud feelings. i always thought you liked my super bushy, not tamable hairdo !  ❜