not hawkeye

What Is Kindness? (Bucky X Daughter!Reader)

Characters: Bucky X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Swearing, blood, torture, death


Request:Your writing is great! Could you write one where the avengers find a girl in a hydra base. Say she’s around 13-14. They take her back to the compound for medical care and tests. They find out she’s Buckys daughter but he didn’t know about her. Maybe with a fluffy ending? Cause fluffy daddy Bucky is adorable.

Originally posted by itsjustmycrazyvibe

All you had known is this facility. In your 13 full years of being here, all you heard was screaming, orders, gunfire. All you saw was murder, torture and suffering. All you smelt and tasted was blood and tears. You had grown a thick skin, so they can batter you black and blue but you would just glare back. You didn’t know how to be a kid. You didn’t know who you were. All you knew was how to fight, to use weapons, and to not trust anyone.

You sat in your cell waiting for a guard to come beat you, or a doctor to come run tests on you. But nothing came. Instead you heard the screams. You were used to it, but you heard more this time. Then you heard footsteps and backed yourself into a corner.

Keep reading

Black Hayate isn’t the first dog Riza ever had. When she was younger, she found a scraggly mutt dog that had been abandoned in the woods near her home. She used to feed her scraps of food and even built the dog a hutch to live in. Everywhere she went and everything she did, the dog would follow. All of this under the nose of her father. But then, one day the dog simply vanished and never returned home.

To this day she still doesn’t know what happened to her loyal first pet.

The Madness of Queen Riza

or Why Can’t I stop Obsessing about Episode 19

So I’ve read some great thoughts about FMAB Ep19 and Mustang’s fight with Lust, Al’s protection of Riza and Riza’s reaction. And I’ve loved them all and if you’ve not read them links are below. 

Mustang is, I believe, in total control of his actions.

These could be the eyes of a man losing it to anger and revenge, or they could be the eyes of a man in intense physical pain fighting with all his strength to protect four people he has responsibility for. He’s already underestimated his opponent once, to great cost, and won’t do it again.

During the later fight with, and torture of Envy, Mustang is at the point of total madness.  However when dealing with Lust he is focused on eliminating a threat to himself and his subordinates.  Unlike Envy, who Mustang delights in hurting before even trying to kill them, his attitude to Lust is, “I’ll keep killing you till you’re dead.” He’s just getting the job done.

Al is throughly epic. His understanding of the situation and response is flawless and @egalitarian-nature-blog says is so well. Please read her take on it.

But it’s Riza’s response in all this that really intrigues me. Up till now Riza has always displayed cool and efficient behaviour. Earlier in Episode 19 she berates Mustang when he intervenes in the mission and temporarily disables Gluttony. Hawkeye says that “ matter what happens to us..” he was to have kept his involvement a secret.

At the moment she believes that Lust has killed Mustang she gives up. If Mustang is dead then there is no “mission”, no reason to go on and as she said earlier, it doesn’t matter what happens to her. She is suddenly without purpose and full of despair. Her only action, after realising the impotence of her weapons, is to tell Alphonse to get out of there.

However, when Hawkeye realises her mistake, and that Mustang isn’t dead, she swings to the extreme opposite. But instead of the cool and efficient Hawkeye we usually see, we have a frantic outburst of unthinking, manic action.

Cool efficient Riza would know that by pulling away from Al’s protection and stepping out at this moment she would only hinder her Commanding Officer’s attack. Rational Riza would know that if she puts herself in the line of fire she will only give an advantage to the enemy.  So at this point Riza is far from rational and if anyone is at the point of losing themselves in the madness of the moment it’s Hawkeye.

That’s what makes this scene so compelling for me. It’s probably the only time we see Riza Hawkeye fuelled by raw emotion, unhindered by all the layers of self-control and self-denial she has developed over the years. Perhaps her loss of control in this fight is what gives her the insight to help her Colonel in his moment of madness.

Please check out these posts. They are all very worth reading.

@egalitarian-nature-blog ‘s great take on Al is over here.

@sofiakkuma said very good things here.

(Though I kind of disagree, I love any analysis of this 🙂)

@theysangastheyslew​ says some great things in her tags on this post.  (Read her tags!!)

@aheartmadefullmetal16 thoughts can be found here.  (With a little bit that I added.)

And a couple of my previous efforts are here and over there.

The Analyst

Reading figures and numbers is one thing. Reading one Clint Barton is a whole different ballgame.

Warnings: none? just fluffy goodness


“Will you two be quiet? I’m trying to do our job,” Natasha snapped from her seat on the windowsill. A pair of bulky headphones were placed atop her artfully curled hair.

Clint gave one last jab to your side for good measure before wheeling his chair back over to the desk of operations. He plucked up his headphone set and pressed the left half to his right ear, listening in to the ring of illegal arms dealers you were staking out. His arms flexed as he leaned them on the table.

The window unit kicked on to stir the stale room with cool air. You shivered, burrowing yourself further into your notes. Clint chased away the goosebumps on his tan flesh with a plaid shirt that made your stomach spin and Natasha seemed completely unaffected.

After another half hour of zero new information, you stood up and cracked a good dozen joints in your body.

“I’m going for a walk,” you announced.

“Not alone,” Natasha called.

“Yes, mom,” you grumbled.

“That’s team leader to you.”

Clint patted her thigh, swiping up his jacket. “I’ve got her, Nat. Call the burner if something happens.”

With his hood pulled into place and a ball cap secured over your head, the two of you slipped out the back door into the alleyway. The air outside was heavy with noise—questionable looking people arguing across the street, a lone car honking at whatever else dared occupy the road this late at night, and perhaps loudest of all, your heartbeat.

When you signed up to aid in this mission as an analyst, it was with the express understanding that you would not be alone with the distractingly beautiful man that was Clint Barton. Even from beneath the shadow of his hoodie, you could pick out the blue hue of his eyes dancing at a silent joke and the tight set of his jaw ready for work. Your heart gave a definitive skip that would alarm any doctor.

Balling up your fists in your pockets, you led him towards the crowd so you could lose yourselves in the afterhours crowd. Your mind relished the break from the job that was pushing on the week long barrier today.

A puddle that smelled particularly foul sent Clint knocking his elbow into your side. He shrugged and looped his arm through yours as if it was a decision whether or not to buy eggs at the grocery and not how much more he could fuck you up tonight.

He pursed his lips as a teetering elderly couple meandered past and ducked his head to whisper out the words he had been holding back once they were past. “Could you not cut off circulation to my hand? We’re trying to look casual here.”

Your gaze jolted down to where you were squeezing his forearms with such force your fingers ached. Other parts of you ached to further the simple touch, but you were too goddamn professional to give in to those pesky, fleeting emotions.

The walk continued, around a block, maybe ten for all you knew. By the time you wound up back in the cozy alleyway that led up into the surveillance area, you were not quite ready to submerge yourself back in the smuggling world. You dug your feet into the gravel. Clint stumbled to match the grinding halt and a scarcely audible laugh finally slipped past his façade at your antics.

“I’m not gunning to cram myself back in there either,” he said.

You leaned back against the brick wall, rolling your neck around to loosen the muscles and shutting your eyes from reality for just a few moments longer. You sensed it before you felt it. The hovering of his fingers over your cheek. In the time it took your eyes to dredge open, you even managed to convince yourself it was all in your imagination. But you were not that fortunate.

Clint might as well have been kissing you for all the distance he left in your vulnerable state. The thought of kissing his parted lips did nothing to further your defenses. With one arms braced beside your face on the side closest to the street and the other now resting by only fingertips on your cheek, his eyes strained trying to convey something. A secret love? The same attraction you felt? Maybe the desire to have a quickie right here before falling back into your respective roles.

You heard footsteps passing on the sidewalk, weighted down by the mud they trudged through. Clint tensed, ducking so that his nose was aligned with yours and the rest of his body crossed that forbidden island to satisfy the need of yours to be touched.

You decided to help him out for the final step. You shifted up, pressing your mouth to his, nearly drowning in the soft gasp he breathed out against your lips. He drew in a sharp breath next, hand slipping behind your neck to anchor there and better angle you for his vantage. It was better than you dreamed, more perfect than any movie could depict and when he pulled away you floated on the high until a darker shade of blue replaced his eyes.

He held up your hat, now speckled with filth from where it had fallen to the ground. He surveyed the street twice before pushing it into your hands and nodding towards the door. “I think we’re clear. One of our subjects was out for a stroll as well. Next time we go out make sure your cover is more secure so I don’t have to physically shield you from being compromised. Nice touch with the kiss by the way.”

i cant believe billy’s favourite movie is the sound of music

im listening to the sound of music soundtrack just so i can think about billy kaplan dramatically singing to it all

let me propose this:

-toddler billy being entranced by so long, farewell but he cant really handle all the words yet all so he settles with singing goodbYEEEEE to anyone leaving the house for the next three months

-child billy fully going for the hills are alive, standing up on the sofa to belt it despite his family’s protests

-teenage billy driving teddy crazy by knowing all of the words to how do you solve a problem like maria. it would be so cute except hes been singing it for four days straight now please billy stop

-billy kaplan the night before his seventeenth birthday singing I AM SIXTEEN GOING ON SEVENTEEN to anyone who will listen

-billy singing my favourite things and doesn’t bother to stop his magic from responding. wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings go soaring past the window. snowflakes start to fall from the ceiling and they stay on his nose and eyelashes. teddy is suddenly wearing a white dress with a blue satin sash.

-kate and billy trying to sing all the parts of do re mi between them

-billy tentatively proposing that their first dance at their wedding be to edelweiss. teddy considering it because that’s his favourite song from the soundtrack, and it makes him think of his mum

-adult billy singing i have confidence to his child while taking her with him about the house, making her giggle as he does his chores by magic and makes faces at his baby girl

-teddy offering to make the family tea. do you want it with jam and bread? opportunity glints in billys eyes. TEA, TEA WITH JAM, JAM AND BREAD he sings, and their 7 year old comes through to the kitchen to join in, and teddy can only laugh exasperatedly

tea-withjamandbread  asked:

Let's see... How about Royai for “Just this once, please stay.” or “You were and still are my everything.” Or both, if you feel like writing extra angst!

Thanks so much! Here’s a post Hughes’ funeral musing scene. Cue angst.


The vase will drop eventually no matter how long it appears to be suspended in mid-air. In the end, it will fall and crack into little pieces. Someone will have to sweep it up and put it back together.

Riza was worried. She knew Roy’s stiff upper lip and pride could only sustain him for so long. The only emotion he was outwardly showing was raw anger.

It could not last. He was going to fall and break at some stage, and she wanted to be there for him when it did. She would not forgive herself if she wasn’t. She needed to be there - not just for him, but for herself too.

It would not take away his pain, but it was all she could give.

The first cracks in his facade had already started to appear. After the funeral, Riza had turned away as he wiped away quiet tears. Then he put his mask back on.

She had not been able to help him then, not in their uniforms and certainly not in public.

That was why Elizabeth entered Madame Christmas’ bar. She wore a low cut dress with a high back, her blonde hair down around her shoulders.

Riza could feel the collective eyes of the bar on her the moment she walked in. Her high heels clicked as she strode across the floor catching the eye of the proprietor.

She always felt uneasy entering Christmas’ bar no matter how welcoming the Madame and her girls made her feel. It probably did not help that she was almost always in disguise as Elizabeth when she visited.

“Elizabeth, I’m glad you’re here, ” Chris jerked her head toward the right. “He’s out back. I’m sure you know how to find the parlour.”

Riza smiled in thanks.

Chris grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “He’s in a bad way.”

The younger woman’s smile dimmed. “I thought so. There’s only so much that a man can take. Even Roy Mustang.”

Chris released her hand. Riza walked around the counter and through the door that led out into to the private quarters.

The parlour was the second room to the right. Riza rapped lightly on the door with her knuckles.

“Come in,” she heard Roy say.

She opened the door and stepped over the threshold. His back was to her as she entered.

“Fancy some company? I brought a bottle of your favourite brandy.”

“Lieutenant?” He turned around, his eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?”

He averted his gaze. She thought he was going to say something. Instead he turned around and took two glasses from the drinks cabinet.

He looked over his shoulder. “You’ll raise a toast to Hughes with me?”

She raised an eyebrow and nodded.

He took the bottle from her, and poured two glasses. He handed her one of them and gestured for her to sit down on the couch. He sat down beside her.

He raised his glass. “To Hughes.”

“To fallen friends,” she added.

Roy swallowed most of the contents of his glass in one go.

“Such a waste,” he said bitterly. “Leaving behind a wife and a child like that.”

She knew what he was thinking.

We killed sons, brothers and fathers. Even daughters and sisters and mothers. We’re monsters too.

She couldn’t say it.

Roy turned his head and looked at her. “Why do you follow me, Lieutenant, when I have the deaths of so many people on my hands?”

“I believe in you,” she said. “You’re going to make the changes that this country needs.”

He sighed. “I wish I had as much belief in myself as you have in me.”

Swallowing the remains in his glass, he continued, “Will you have another?”

She shook her head, a crease forming in her brow, and he stood up.

“And Hughes’ death was not your fault either,” she whispered.

The glass slipped from his hand.

Smash. Crack.

Even though he had his back to her, she saw his body stiffen at her words. He turned around slowly, fists clenched tightly.

“He was trying to tell me something,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Of course, it was my fault.” He unclenched his hands and stared down at them. “All this blood, red I can’t wash off.”

“Roy, I-”

Deciding words were not what he needed at this time, Riza stood up and closed the distance between them. He only looked up when she wrapped her arms around him.

He let out a little sob before returning the embrace, harder. He was trembling and her heart ached for him. But not only for him. It ached for Hughes, and for Gracia, and little Elicia.

It’s not fair.

Her eyes started to sting. She knew more than anyone how unfair life could be.

“Lieutenant, just promise me you won’t die too.”

“I can’t promise that,” she said, “but I swear I’ll go out fighting if death comes for me.”

He pulled back suddenly, but his hands on her upper arms. “Close your eyes!”

She frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Please, just close your eyes.”

She obeyed and he embraced her again. Her lips twitched upward. She relaxed into his tight embrace despite the knowledge that even an act of comfort like this could get them both in trouble. She wanted to give him more, so much more. She wanted to kiss away the tears, help him forget his grief for a little while.

“Thank you for coming.” His voice was hoarse. “How do you always know when I need you the most?”

“We’ve been together a long time.”

She could feel a dampness on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes. “You’re crying.”

She wiped away a tear away with her thumb.

“I thought I told you not to open your eyes.”

"You don’t need to hide from me?”

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Roy, I’ve seen you at your best, and your worst. And I’m still here.”

She leaned in towards him and pressed her lips against his.

They pulled apart and stared at one another. He closed his eyes and kissed her softly. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss. He pulled her closer to him and she hooked her arms around his neck. His lips tasted of brandy, but she did not think it was the alcohol that was making her dizzy.

When they parted for breath, he leaned his forehead against hers. “We have to stop.”

“Your aunt could walk in any moment.”

“You know what I mean. Besides, Chris would not let anyone disturb us.”

She pulled back a little; Being so close was too tempting.

“She’s just as subtle as-”

“Hughes,” Roy finished, a sad smile on his face. “He would be devastated that he died before I found a wife.”

“Do you want me to take over his role?”

“No thank you, Lieutenant. You have more important tasks. I honestly think he was more focused on getting me married than helping me become Fuhrer.”

“I’ll miss him,” she said. “But we won’t let his death be in vain.”

He looked into her eyes. “You know you could have a normal life away from this. I wouldn’t think any less of you.”

“But then, who would protect you from yourself?”

“And shoot me in the back if I stray from the correct path.” He grabbed her hands and squeezed. “I’m indebted to you.”

She held her breath in anticipation of him kissing her again, but her dropped her hands. He walked over to the sofa again and sat down.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight. Can you… just this once, please stay? We could just share stories about Hughes.”

“A bit like a wake in reverse,” Riza said. She inclined her head. “You could repay me in alcohol.”.


A Thousand Words: 2

“Ma'am?” You laugh staring up at him, god he’s got to be just gorgeous under that mask cuz what you’re seeing now is attractive. “Thanks for the rescue, uh star guy?”
“Captain America.” He says with a smile as he reaches a hand down for you. “Where’s the rest of your unit Solider?” He asks gruffly as he easily pulls his shield out of the ground at your feet. His face is dirty where it’s uncovered, making him all the more handsome.
“Uh. I’m not military.” You tell him aiming your camera to your side and taking several pictures.
“Then what are you doing out here?” He demands catching your arm. He pulls you toward him and blocks a few shots from the aliens with his shield.
“I’m doing my job.” You tell him peering around him to get a few shots of his teammates. “What the hell is that?” You ask as a huge green blur goes flying by.
“That would be the Hulk. He’s on our side.”
“Whose our?”
“The Avengers.” You blink up at him your eyebrows raised and mouth open in bewilderment.
“Who are the Avengers?” You ask just before there’s another explosion and Captain America yanks you to the wall and behind a pillar.
“Stay.” He says before running back into the chaos of battle.
“Right.” You huff before taking a few pictures of him running back into the fray. You want to get some pictures of this, Hulk, before the battle is over. His green skin will look incredible against the grey of the city.
You hear a loud yell, or maybe it counts as a roar, but either way you’ve got a gut feeling that’s what a Hulk sounds like. So disregarding Captain America’s order to ‘stay’ you take off toward the noise.

anonymous asked:

what do you think of wanda's relationship with Clint? They both have been down very dark paths recently, and I was wondering if you think they should interact more these days?

It’s my faaaaaavorite. I talked about it before, but that was a while ago.

Now would be an interesting time to dig back into their relationship because of what happened with Bruce. I think Bendis (being Bendis) means for Clint’s choice to be seen as a natural ending of the arc he’s been on, at least in Bendisworld, since Disassembled, and Bruce to be seen as a surrogate for Wanda. (Wanda certainly sees Bruce as a kindred spirit, if not necessarily a friend.) With actual!Wanda still around, you could use that as an excuse to dig deep into her relationship with Clint.

The problem is logistics. They’re separated, and Secret Empire is about to rear its head all over the Marvel Universe.* There isn’t an opportunity to get into that right now. Maybe after the dust has settled, they’ll both become Avengers again, and we can see more of them together. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bruce was alive by that point though.

*Speaking of Secret Empire, Wanda and Clint are two of the characters (besides Sharon, Bucky, and Sam) who will be most devastated by Hydra Steve. I kinda don’t want to see their reactions. :(