#snntry

"You ever wonder what it be like to have the normal nuclear family with no issues? I mean, I suppose I'm the weird one cause I've got no parents. Closest I've got to family is Barnes and he is awkward about that kind of stuff."

“Shield” (maybe when kara is without her powers??)

The bracelet she'd been wearing was starting to get to her. She hated not having her powers since they'd just become the Avengers but it was part of her being able to stay out of the raft. Of course, Val decided when it was turned on and when to activate it and when she'd be given her powers back.

Her and Bob had been having a discussion about what they were going to try and make for dinner when the alarms for the tower went off. Just as she turned, grabbing the tracker tablet that kept track of each location they were sent to, Kara heard a whistling sound. She knew, if it hit the building any where near her, she wasn't sure she'd make it.

That's when she saw the small rocket come towards her and all she could was make herself as small as he could and hope that they were a bad shot. Then, as a huge piece of concrete was coming her way from where the bomb landed, She couldn't help but look at the golden hair and his golden uniform. She stood up as he put the debris down. Her eyes looked up at his and all she could do was smile at him.

As he looked down at her, blonde hair falling a bit in his face, she couldn't help the blush that was now on her cheeks. She pushed a piece of the hair behind his ear, leaning in and pressing a very chaste but loving kiss to his cheek. "You know Sentry. You keep saving me like this and I might just start to like you even a little more than Bob and I'm pretty smitten over him."

the first thing barnes notes is the stinging salt in the back of his mouth.

it's somewhere between saline and wet rubber. electricity bouncing off his teeth. if he could taste phosphor and neon, he'd think it'd taste like this--like white, glaring lights. he squints his eyes shut, hoping to God that the sensation would pass. that he was really here, wherever here was.

watching a reel of his life at it's worst hadn't been in his itinerary for the day. george looked as tired and disappointed as he had almost a century ago, his reflective brown eyes glassy with fatigue. you're better than this, james, he'd said, wicking blood off his son's puffy red cheek. innocent shame. george devolved into a pit of gnarled hands and stinking corpses, passing bucky along into a harsher hell.

the red room is intimately known, like a little thorn in bucky's heart he'd never get rid of. the winter soldier carries themself monotonously, a russian issued pistol affixed in their natal hand. we've given her opportunity after opportunity, a brusque man justifies, hand settling on their metal shoulder. she killed one of her sisters in her last attempt to abandon them. she is a failure, soldier. the order is unspoken and implicit. they tremble when they squeeze the trigger.

her blood douses their lungs, coppery and astringent. when they inhale, their knife buries into captain america's trapezius muscle, a second in his belly. finish your mission, my winter soldier. the skull looms somewhere in their mind. bucky. please. there has to be something left in you.

one last staple of shame: the wolverine's teeth in his natal arm, his seventy odd years of fury delivered in one crushing bite. bucky stinks of ink and guilt. my wife, and child! you killed her!

when here and now overtakes him, bucky feels like he's been hit by a train. he's kneeling in the ruin of his contrite grief, the affect of a runner starved of air crumpling him over. he feels bob's eyes upon him long before he picks his head up, something synonymous with animal fear and rage briefly usurping his exhaustion.

bob looks sad. nervous. he always did. he wrings his hands together, like an apology. you want to blame me, he observes. you can. if you want.

truthfully, some big and wounded part of bucky did want to blame him. he's had enough of anyone and everyone finding the potholes in his mind and wedging their way through, whether they intended to or not. the flicker of contempt makes him grind his teeth as he sits up, propping his weight into his prosthetic. but it's not what the people he loves would want of him, and not conductive to anything particularly useful. anger didn't have a place here, even if he won't be sleeping well for weeks. a few unkind words belly up in his head, all of which are quietly restrained.

' some of the best people i've ever known told me.. what i did as the winter soldier wasn't my fault. some days i believe them, and others, i don't. but i.. i want to. so i've gotta start somewhere. tell me you didn't do that on purpose, and there's nothing to blame you for. '

so the ones faded out are ones that would change when he gets more comfortable with the sentry stuff and thus gets over the agoraphobia.

"I promise I'm the cutest bear you ever did see, too," when she isn't going absolutely feral on whatever bad guy triggered the transformation. He he.

@snntry asked: "This might as well not be real."

"Said   a   man   with   superpowers   and   the   power   of   a   thousand   suns."   A   short   pause,   as   the   demon's   lips   smiled   curving   his   mouth   into   a   knowing   grin,   hands   upon   his   chin   as   he   rubs   it   there,   thoughtful,   in   fake   penance   until   eyes   land   back   on   Bob.   The   Sentry.   The   Void.   So   many   names   for   one   person.   "Did   that   got   that   right?   The   title   is   a   bit.   .   .pretentious."   He   laughs   at   that   before   shrugging   it   off,   eyes   that   flash   golden   once   as   light   catches   them   returning   to   the   brown   one   he   glamours   through.  

lokelani pops a bubble with her gum and nods her head in response. there’s a cooking show playing from her laptop as they sit on the couch, a light breeze coming in as the sky prepares to storm later in the day. dark clouds on the horizon a stark contrast to the bright green of plants filling her apartment and the bright orange blanket draped over bob’s lap. just before he spoke lokelani had leaned her head against his leg from where she sat on the ground, a sketch book and colored pencils in front of her. the paw itself is filled with half drawn root structures, a tangled mess she feels may as well represent her brain.

“only for a few minutes, you didn’t miss anything too exciting.”