#starofhonor

It’s probably only shocking that it took this long.

SHIELD goes down. HYDRA comes back. The Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes. Phil and his team nearly die at the HUB.

It’s a fucking disaster and Phil... Well.

Nick Fury has the sheer, unmitigated gall to tell Phil that he’s now the Director of SHIELD. Yeah, director of the remnants of an organization everyone else wants dead and gone.

Phil stood there for a second, looking at him, and said the three words that made the most sense.

Go fuck yourself.

Fury had laughed, then had stopped laughing when Phil’s facade cracked and there was nothing but a man in the midst of breakdown, his brain a fever scream of pain. Phil’s psych is actively on fire, his body isn’t working right, alien blood is running rampant through him.

Fury had spoke calmly and Phil had pretended to listen, and in the middle of the night Phil had knocked on Skye’s door. When she answered he only had one question.

I am leaving. For good. Are you coming with me?

Where are we going, she’d asked. Does it matter, he’d wanted to know.

It hadn’t.

Bringing them in tourist clothing to Wakanda. Skye had been nothing but questions, and had picked up tourism guides along the way, and Phil is very amused that she is going full tilt tourist, showing him in guides on a new civilian phone where the best food is and what they should definitely pick up. At least she has the excuse of being multiracial. Phil is so fucking white he’s a beacon as they come off the airplane.

He’d also put the tickets under his real name, and under an alias for Skye. He is not shocked when what looks suspiciously like a royal guard is waiting for him.

Just what he’d wanted. No, really. Just what he’d wanted.

Phil had found something special in Steve. He wasn't in love with him and frankly, wouldn't want to be, but Steve could take a beating like nobody else and still be happy to cuddle afterwards, which was incredibly valuable. Clint was the best sub he could hope for in most respects, but pain like what he wanted to dish out just wasn't good for him. So, this once in a while thing was wonderful.

@starofhonor, @seancesayshello

Bucky did not want to be here.  This felt like an incredibly stupid risk.  He knew it was unlikely anyone would recognize him, and he knew that Steve and Sam had his back - not to mention the gigantic ball of fluff sitting patiently at his side - but being out in public like this still felt dangerous.  Miles leaned against Bucky’s legs and nudged his hand, having taken note of how anxious his handler was.

Steve, by contrast, seemed relaxed.  Then again, it had been Steve’s idea for them to come to this thing.  He and Sam.  Both of them apparently thought it would be good for Bucky to get out of the house.  Or something.  Bucky had to disagree.  But this was some sort of function for veterans, and since it had been pretty much inevitable that Steve would be asked to attend, he had dragged Bucky along, too.  The only good thing was that no one had tried to talk to Bucky.  The way Miles had subtly placed himself just slightly in front of his handler might have been a part of that.  Bucky stroked his flesh hand over the dog’s fuzzy, pointed ears, both as a silent form of praise for doing a good job and as a way to keep himself grounded.

That was how it was suppose to go. Till Death. You were friends with people, until death. You were married to someone til death. But those rules did not apply to those who came back from the dead. To those who were not human, who were part demon in nature and could travel to other worlds and universes. But that never stopped the pain. It only was a distraction.

He had died, come back, and his life felt scrambled now. Eyes closing his shoulders fell as he shifted against the slightly uncomfortable rot iron chair. His tail was hidden in his long coat and he just sipped at his tea cup in hand. This whole world was odd for him. There were no mutants. One teleporting accident while fighting Doktor Doom and now he was elsewhere. Pulling his phone out to check the time knowing well he was probable needing to go find somewhere to go, a place to stay, people that could help him or at least maybe figure out how stuck here he was. Not that.. anyone really needed him for much anymore. Even less so since this world didn’t even know him. These people didn’t know him. He was just.. even more of a monster then normal as these people had never seen him.

Melancholy took the one known as Nightcrawler, and he never handled such dark thoughts well. Praying helped, but he didn’t want to go back to church after already going to mass. The priest did not understand, not like he could confess his sins and confuse the hell out of the poor priest. So he was left with his own dark thoughts in this world not his own.

Adjusting where he was on the edge of a tall skyscraper cup in his hand he stared out paying no mind to the world around him. Not like anyone would bother him.

Among the many things the serum had changed, Steve’s shoulders were one of them. They were so broad now, tampered down to a tiny waist and slim hips, giving his back a unique triangular shape that had Bucky drooling. Right beneath it, there was Steve’s unchanged, lovely butt, yet another source for drooling. Needless to say, Bucky hated to see him go, but loved to see him leave. Or however the saying went. Or, in this case, Bucky hated to be apart from him, but loved watched him from behind. Unable to help himself, Bucky walked up to him and hugged him from behind with his remaining arm, squeezing tight.

Oh course I’m salty about it. There was so much they could have done but they focused on fucking Tony instead.

#I'm not against Tony#honest#but if I wanted Iron man 6 I'd have asked for it#I wanted to see more of STEVE#More of what he's dealing with as an unaging WWII vet with ptsd#but no#we get to see more of Tony's ptsd instead#they fucking failed#which is a damn shame#cause winter soldier set such a great presidence#and then we got that shit

Admittedly, Wade hated the heat.  He hated it even more when it was unseasonably hot because wearing his suit became like sitting in a hot car with an all leather interior with the windows rolled up.

He was on his way home from a merc job and his mask was already half off of his face, desperate for any sort of relief.  He was very glad he couldn’t die because he was sure he’d be asking Satan to turn the air conditioning on.