someonefaraway



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    There is a Hades, and there is a Persephone.

    They’re just not the ones you’d expect.

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    12 Apr 2021

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    Steve doesn’t like bullies, on principle. It's less about justice, or decency, or righteous indignation; more about the look in the eyes of the people getting stepped on, the people getting trampled, the people getting lost.

    So it cuts all the deeper, when Steve recognizes strength, precision, endurance, capacity: sees the pieces of himself not born but made, reflected in this body, this person, this weapon: the Winter Soldier.

    It slices through Steve’s soul when he returns the Soldier's gaze, and reads the only thing that lives in the deadness that pervades behind those irises in the night.

    It’s not You can’t beat me.

    It’s more You can’t stop them.

     

    For the prompt: The AU where Steve Rogers sees the best in everyone, and it is that quality that brings him back the person he loves most in the world; where Steve reaches out to help the Winter Soldier on principle, but when the muzzle-mask comes off, he finds Bucky Barnes.

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    10 Apr 2021

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    “I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said.

    “What,” Natasha said.

    “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier.

    “Steve, no,” Clint groaned.

    Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

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    09 Apr 2021

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    “They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

    Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

    “Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

    Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

     

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    art by quietnight | podfic by sallysparrow017 | podfic by AvidReaderLady

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    07 Apr 2021

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    Shampoo, he thinks. Conditioner.

    The kind of hair that’s nice to touch, he hears Sam say again, and reaches for one of the bottles.

    It’s different than soap. Smells nice, like fruit and flowers. The shampoo lathers up soft as clouds, washes away easy. Conditioner’s worse; he can’t tell when it’s fucking rinsed out, his hair feels weird. But he grabs the plastic comb - yes, thank you, Wilson, he does know what a goddamn comb is, he’s not a barbarian - and it slides through without catching, like all the knots are just gone. There could be benefits, he’s willing to admit.

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    04 Apr 2021