ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ

[rdgrdn]

RDGRDN ⸻  INDEPENDENT. PRIVATE. SELECTIVE ROLEPLAY BLOG FOR MARVEL COMICS ALEXEI'S SHOSTAKOV WITH INFLUENCES FROM THE MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE AND HEAVY FOCUS ON HEADCANONS AND CHARACTER BUILT THROUGH INTERACTIONS. MIXED MEDIA. WRITTEN BY CALI.

⍟ PROMO. ⍟ CARRD. ⍟ STUDY. ⍟ PROMPTS. ⍟ ART. ⍟ WIRE: SAME AS URL

"ᴵ ᵖˡᵉᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ. ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᵇʳᵃᵛᵉ. ᴾᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗ. ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃˢⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʳᵃᵛᵉ. ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒʷᵃʳᵈ."

[rdgrdn]

afraid this is very alexei.

[hardyscal]

[rdgrdn]

suddenly a lot of people love russia.

[rdgrdn]

he is a comedian. is this your man, melina

[rdgrdn]

so yeah, love my own headcanon that he and bucky (as TWS) worked on a few missions together because they wanted to see how alexei fare in combat and skill against another super soldier but eventually gave it up because young tall blond alexei likely remind bucky of steve and jolted an old memory.

[rdgrdn]

they just hate he transforms his trauma into flare.

[thewinterclown]

CHARLIE HUNNAM as Jax Teller — Sons of Anarchy 3.08

[rdgrdn]

Journalist prompt: how does it feel to be labelled "Russias worst export" by current secretary of state and the American public at large?

He   let   out   a   short,   guttural   laugh   —   more   bark   than   chuckle   —   as   he   adjusted   the   sleeves   of   his   worn   leather   jacket.   The   press   conference   room   was   too   bright,   too   staged   for   his   liking,   but   he   met   the   journalist’s   gaze   without   flinching.   “Russia’s   worst   export?”   he   repeated,   his   accent   thick   as   ever,   drawing   out   the   words   with   a   touch   of   theatrical   disbelief.   “That   is   title,   yes?   Medal?   I   must   have   missed   ceremony.”   His   grin,   sharp   and   unrepentant,   did   little   to   soften   the   steel   in   his   eyes.

He   leaned   forward,   elbows   on   the   table,   voice   lowering.   “You   Americans   have   short   memories.   When   I   fought   for   my   country   —   and   for   world   —   there   was   no   parade.   No   ticker   tape,   no   interviews.   There   was   only   blood,   sacrifice,   silence.   You   love   your   heroes   loud   and   shining,   but   when   they   don’t   fit   your   story,   you   spit   them   out.   I   did   what   I   was   made   to   do.   I   did   what   was   asked   of   me.   But   I   remember   who   needed   help   when   Red   Guardian   stood   up.”

There   was   a   flicker   of   something   in   his   expression   then   —   not   pride,   not   quite   sorrow,   but   a   sense   of   history   etched   into   the   hard   lines   of   his   face.   “You   think   insult   wounds   me?”   he   said   at   last,   voice   calmer   now,   almost   tired.   “Let   them   name   me   what   they   like.   I   have   worn   worse   names.   Still,   I   stand.   Still,   I   endure.”   With   that,   he   sat   back,   arms   crossed,   but   he   feels   unsettled.

[rdgrdn]

Journalist prompt: how are you reacting to rumours that your daughter Yelena Belova is having an illicit affair with the winter soldier?

Alexei   mouth   twitched—whether   in   amusement   or   irritation,   it   was   hard   to   say.   He   adjusted   his   leather   jacket,   the   creak   of   worn   fabric   underscoring   the   tension   that   briefly   flared   in   his   posture.   The   reporter   had   barely   finished   the   question   before   Alexei   gave   them   a   long,   unimpressed   look,   the   kind   that   used   to   make   junior   agents   flinch.   “Rumours,”   he   said,   dragging   the   word   out   like   it   tasted   sour.   “You   people   love   that   word,   don’t   you?   It   lets   you   throw   dirt   without   having   to   find   any   actual   mud.”

He   leaned   forward,   resting   his   forearms   on   the   table   between   them.   “   Yelena   is   a   grown   woman.   A   better   operative   than   ninety   percent   of   the   people   I   ever   worked   with,   and   believe   me,   I’ve   worked   with   very   questionable   individuals.   If   she’s   involved   with   someone,   that’s   her   business.   And   if   that   someone   happens   to   be   The   Winter   Soldier. . .”   He   let   out   a   short   laugh,   more   gravel   than   humor.   “Then   he’s   the   one   who   should   be   worried   about   staying   alive,   not   about   what   some   journalist   writes.”

Alexei   straightened   up   and   shook   his   head,   chuckling   to   himself   now,   the   edge   in   his   voice   softening—but   not   disappearing.   “Illicit   affair,”   he   repeated,   almost   theatrically.   “What   is   this,   the   Cold   War   again?   You   want   to   make   it   sound   like   she's   sleeping   with   the   enemy.”   He   paused,   then   added,   “Me   and   the   Soldier   go   way   back,   you   know?   We   both   worked   for   the   Soviets   once,   It   built   character.”

[rdgrdn]

@disequilibrate asked: “ take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while. ”

Alexei   arched   an   eyebrow,   his   broad   shoulders   stiff   beneath   the   faded   red   of   his   jacket.   He   glanced   down   at   the   chair   Ava   gestured   toward,   then   back   at   her,   his   expression   unreadable   for   a   beat   too   long.   “A   while,   huh?”   he   muttered,   more   to   himself   than   to   her,   the   weight   of   the   words   settling   into   his   spine.   With   a   grunt   that   was   half   reluctance,   half   theatrical   exhaustion,   he   lowered   himself   into   the   seat   like   a   soldier   preparing   for   interrogation,   legs   spread,   arms   crossing   over   his   chest.   "Fine.   But   if   we're   going   to   be   here   that   long,   I   want   snacks.   Or   vodka.   Or   at   least   better   lighting."

His   eyes   didn’t   leave   hers,   even   as   his   body   settled.   There   was   a   flicker   of   something   behind   his   gaze   —   not   quite   defiance,   but   not   surrender   either.   He   was   used   to   orders,   to   action,   not...   talking.   Not   sitting   still.   That   was   never   his   strength.   But   Ava   had   a   look   that   reminded   him   of   Natasha   when   she   was   being   especially   relentless   —   sharp,   calm,   unwavering.   And   like   then,   he   found   himself   begrudgingly   respecting   it.   "You   always   so   bossy?"   he   asked,   a   corner   of   his   mouth   twitching   upward   in   something   like   amusement.   "Or   is   this   special   treatment   just   for   me?"

He   leaned   back,   the   chair   creaking   beneath   his   weight,   one   foot   tapping   idly   as   he   let   the   silence   stretch   for   a   moment.   Despite   the   sarcasm,   the   bravado,   there   was   a   quiet   edge   in   the   way   his   eyes   flickered   toward   the   floor   and   back   up   again   —   as   if   he   was   bracing   for   something   real   beneath   the   conversation.   “Alright,”   he   said   finally,   voice   lower   now,   less   performative.   “I’m   sitting.   You   have   my   attention.   Let’s   see   what’s   so   important   it   needed   a   chair   and   a   warning.”

[rdgrdn]

@sisterstill asked: "i'm just tired."

Alexei   froze   at   her   words. They   were   simple   enough,   but   something   about   the   way   she   said   them—soft,   flat,   without   her   usual   bite—made   the   air   feel   heavier.   He   turned   to   look   at   her,   really   look.   Not   the   brave   little   soldier   she   pretended   to   be.   Not   the   assassin.   Just   Yelena.   His   Yelena.   And   it   knocked   the   wind   out   of   him.   He   didn’t   know   what   to   say.   What   could   he   say   to   make   it   better?   He   wasn’t   good   at   this.   He   had   never   been.

“I   know,”   he   muttered,   though   it   came   out   rough,   almost   gruff.   He   sat   down   beside   her,   knees   cracking   in   protest.   He   reached   for   her   hand   but   stopped   short,   hovering,   unsure   if   she   would   pull   away.   “I   know   you’re   tired.   You   carry   too   much.”   His   voice   dropped,   losing   the   bravado   he   often   used   like   armor.   “You   always   have.”   He   swallowed   hard,   glancing   away   for   a   moment.   “You   shouldn’t   have   had   to.”There   was   a   silence   between   them,   but   it   wasn’t   empty.   It   was   full   of   things   he’d   never   said,   full   of   the   years   they   lost.

  “If   I   could   take   some   of   that   weight   off   you,”   he   continued,   his   voice   steadier   now,   “I   would.   I   would   carry   all   of   it.   You   don’t   have   to   pretend   with   me.”   He   finally   looked   at   her,   his   eyes   searching   hers.   “You’re   allowed   to   be   tired.   And   I’ll   be   here.   I’ll   stay,   even   when   you’re   tired   of   everything.   Even   if   you're   tired   of   me.”

[rdgrdn]

Alexei's mind has this thing after years of reconditioning, or making up the best version of a memory. Like it wasn't the Red Room rewriting his memory of how the goodbye after Ohio went, that would be stupid. It wasn't a heartfelt goodbye where he showed his emotions for the girls and there were tears like he think there was, that was his own mind rewriting that memory so he would not feel that guilty for being so deatached from them at the moment they were taken, because it is his biggest shame.

[rdgrdn]

can you blame the ladies, this was young alexei.

[rdgrdn]

rip yelena and natasha when alexei gets horny fanmail.

[rdgrdn]

i don't think there are memories he is going to get back. the mental strain and work it takes on him might not be worth it. the only way some of those memories can be brought back are accidental, like with the void, or with some kind of telepath or mind reader. i always headcanon that something alike the mindstone could restore them or some in some capacity.

[leneemusing]

misc sentence starters

“  i wish i knew how to talk about it.  ”   “  you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together.  ”   “  i don’t want to be alone anymore.  ”   “  i wish i could hate you.  ”  “  take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.  ” “  i need you to trust me.  ”   “  i missed/miss you.  ”   “  she/he won’t listen to me.  ” “  let me do this for you. please.  ”   “  is there anything else you want to say to me?  ” “  tell me something happy.  ”   “  promise me.  ” “  i just want/wanted to help.  ”   “  let me explain.  ” “  i didn’t/don’t need you to understand, i just wanted/want you to support me.  ”   “  i’m on your side.  ” “  i’ve got your back, okay? ” “  please, tell me you have a plan.  ” “  stay with me tonight.  ” “  don’t go. please.  ”   “  i’ve been alone for so long i’m afraid i don’t know what it’s like not to be.  ”   “  talk to me.  ”   “  i did what i had to do.  ” “  we can’t keep going on like this.  ” “  i’m just tired.  ” “  i’m scared.  ” “  it’s okay to be afraid. fear can be good. use it.  ” “  it’s better to expect disappointment.  ” “  hope is dangerous.  ” “  i like seeing you smile.  ”   “  you look beautiful.  ”   “  be patient with her/him. they’re trying. ”   “  i’m trying my best and it’s not good enough. it’s never good enough. ” “  i’m starting to think i’m just fucked up.  ”   “  have a drink with me.  ” “  she/he is better off without me. but i guess that’s their choice.  ” “  you can’t dictate what’s best for someone else. ” “  can i help you?  ” “  i thought you’d like this.  ” “  do you wanna get out of here?  ” “  walk with me?  ” “  well, shit.  ”