Snowire

by Mila_Ariete

Summary:

Charlie Kask aka Snowire is a estonian hacker that was born into the Vihma Varjud, then sold on the black market to the Sickle Chain, where he was then used as a phantom asset. He was again resold to Valentina de Fontaine and stored inside the Vault inside a Cyro chamber.
He was found and freed by Yelena, Ava, Antonia and John, helped them escape the vault, lost, mourned and fought for Bob against the Vault and pulled him back with Yelena, Ava, Antonia, John and Alexei, and then Valentina PR branded them as "The New Avengers".

This is the afterneath of it all.

Notes:

I don’t own the Marvel Multiverse or Thunderbolts (2025).

Please comment and leave kundus if you like the fanfic.

Yes, this is a dossier, I found this easier than to do dozens of chapters.

Also this is going to be fluffy and probably will only have two chapters, this one and one other.

As always enjoy yourselves. 💛

Chapter 1: Dossier of Charlie Kask

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THUNDERBOLTS DOSSIER
Name: Charlie Kask
Codename: Snowire
Nationality: Estonian
Affiliation: Thunderbolts
Role: Espionage, Cyber-Infiltration, Cryokinetic Assault

 

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Appearance:
Charlie Kask is striking, almost statuesque in his unnerving stillness.
His steel-blue eyes glow faintly in shadow, suggesting both machine and myth.
Porcelain-pale skin gives the impression of something preserved rather than alive.
Tousled espresso-brown hair falls to his shoulders, parted around a scarred split in his right eyebrow.
His lean, wiry form is covered in silvery scarring—fractured remnants of cybernetic failure and cryogenic trauma that lace from neck to wrist like frostbitten circuitry.

 

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Suit Specifications:

Designation: Cryo-Adapted Infiltration Exosuit v3.1

Material: Reactive polymer mesh over ballistic-grade fabric

Coolant Lines: Cerulean thermal capillaries—doubles as power circuit and visual tell

Mask: Collapsible angular helmet with translucent visor; neural sync enabled

Gloves: Tactile micro-jacks for data interfacing and electromagnetic pulse induction

Power Core: Latverian cryo-reactor with short-burst overdrive capability

 

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Backstory Summary:
Born into Vihma Varjud, a tech-terror faction entwined with HYDRA’s Estonian operations, Charlie Kask’s life began in the shadows of black science. His parents, cyberneticists trafficking stolen Stark and Doomtech, were executed during a NATO raid. Charlie survived only because he was deemed already “lost”—a failed fusion of quantum computation and cryo-biological experimentation. After being sold on the black market, he was reshaped into a phantom asset for The Sickle Chain. At 17, he crippled NATO assets across three nations without being traced.

He re-entered the global stage after being discovered cryo-chained in Valentina de Fontaine’s vault—her discarded weapon of last resort. His rescue by Yelena, Ava, Antonia, and John came only after they realized they had been pitted against each other.

 

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Powers and Abilities:

Cryokinesis:
Absorbs ambient heat to manifest cold-based phenomena. Capabilities include:

Ice weapon/construct creation

Flash-freezing tech, limbs, and infrastructure

Nerve-specific freezing for non-lethal neutralization

 

Cyberlink Empathy:
Due to experimental neural interfaces, Snowire can interface with digital systems intuitively. Abilities include:

Disabling surveillance or encryption

Hijacking drones/systems at close range

“Haunting” digital networks—leaving ghost signatures or false traces

 

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Combat Style:
Surgical, tactical, and nearly spectral.
Strikes from nowhere and disappears into cold mist.
Uses environmental manipulation—freezing floors, jamming tech—to disorient and divide foes.
Deadly in ambush, mythic under pressure.

 

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Psychological Profile:
Charlie operates under cold rationality. Detached yet hyper-aware, he measures every word, every move. Trauma has hollowed him in places no therapy can reach. Prone to dissociative staring—suggestive of residual digital-quantum echoes. Fiercely loyal once trust is earned, but intolerant of manipulation. Suspected insomnia; possibly bio-neural inability to dream. Emotional range is narrow, but when trust breaks, his vengeance is sub-zero.

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Medical file/broadened Psychological Profile:

Charlie, as all of the Thunderbolts, has mental and physical disorders, such as:

Survior's Apathy: He is emotionally numb, especially to death and dying himself

Caregiver Complex: Charlie takes care of the team to justify his existence to himself

Chronic Hypothermia Symptoms: Charlie is cold, even sauna's cannot heat his Body

Sensory Desaturation: Reduced sensory input in neck and left limbs - functional but dead, in terms of feeling anything

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Charlie Kask / Snowire is a surgical addition to the Thunderbolts lineup—his presence doesn’t just fit, it strategically complicates and deepens the team's psychological and tactical makeup. Here’s how he integrates into the squad, both in terms of function and team dynamics:

 

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FUNCTIONAL ROLE ON THE TEAM:

Primary Roles:

Cyber-Infiltration Expert: Unlike Ava’s phasing or Bucky’s brute infiltration, Charlie specializes in digital ghosting—shutting down facilities before the team even enters.

Cryokinetic Control: He’s a battlefield manipulator. He can create terrain hazards (ice fields, freezing choke points) that favor stealth and control, perfect for ambush-based ops.

Intelligence Recon / Espionage: Often sent ahead to “soften” targets—disable comms, freeze systems, plant false data trails.

 

Backup Utility:

His cryo-core allows emergency power redistribution (e.g., jumpstarting Ava's phasing tech or reviving failing team equipment).

In hostage or extraction missions, his precision freezing allows non-lethal takedown or disabling of tech-based threats.

 

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TEAM DYNAMIC BREAKDOWN:

Yelena Belova / Black Widow

Dynamic: Icy respect with glints of dark humor

Yelena doesn't trust him at first—Charlie feels like another "science experiment." But she recognizes his trauma mirrors her Red Room past. Over time, they form a brutally honest rapport.

Their banter is clipped and bone-dry, but they trust each other’s instincts implicitly.

She calls him "Frostbite Barbie" (to his occasional annoyance).

 

Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier

Dynamic: War-forged mutual understanding

Bucky sees the telltale signs of brainwashing and body-hacking—he recognizes Charlie's scars. Charlie, in turn, respects Bucky’s restraint and pragmatism.

They rarely speak at length, but fight side-by-side like mirrored ghosts.

Bucky is one of the few who can pull Charlie back when he starts to go “cold,” emotionally or ethically.

 

Antonia Dreykov / Taskmaster

Dynamic: Silent mutual analysis

Antonia and Charlie operate with eerie synchronicity. Both are products of lost childhoods and stolen agency.

While their communication is sparse, in the field they flow as a coordinated unit—Antonia reads movement, Charlie reads temperature and tech.

She respects that he doesn't try to psychoanalyze her. He respects that she doesn’t flinch when he freezes a man’s larynx mid-sentence.

 

Ava Starr / Ghost

Dynamic: Quantum kinship

Ava and Charlie are probably the closest—both literally unstable, both constantly phasing through pain.

He’s the one who modifies her suit for better power efficiency using his cryo-core, extending her stable time.

They don’t need words. They sit in silence, syncing breathing, grounding each other. Their bond is deeply non-verbal but intensely loyal.

 

John Walker / US Agent

Dynamic: Constant friction

John sees Charlie as an unpredictable asset—too rogue, too cold-blooded.

Charlie sees John as a fascist in cosplay. Their teamwork is efficient only when mission stakes demand it.

They clash over morals and methods, often requiring Yelena or Bucky to separate them.

 

Bob Reynolds / Sentry / Void

Dynamic: Uneasy mirror of extremes

Bob scares Charlie more than anyone—he sees Sentry as what happens when control is lost.

Conversely, The Void likes Charlie. It whispers to him through frozen air, making him physically ill.

Charlie avoids Bob unless absolutely necessary—but when they must work together, Charlie stabilizes Sentry’s energy with cryo-pressure buffers in his suit, one of the few things that calms Bob’s overloads.

 

Alexei Shostakov / Red Guardian

Dynamic: Strange father-son tension

Alexei tries to treat Charlie like a moody teen; Charlie barely tolerates his over-the-top affection.

Oddly enough, Alexei is one of the few who can make Charlie laugh—usually unintentionally.

While Charlie rolls his eyes at Alexei’s dramatics, he’ll still protect him in combat with silent loyalty. He once saved him mid-mission with a silent freeze field, then just muttered, “You talk too much."

 

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Chapter 2: How to build a den out of broken things (and freeze cookies to perfection)

Summary:

Charlie Kask is a mother hen that nests aggressively.
That is a known fact.

This is Charlie in his nesting element.

Enjoy 💛

Notes:

I don’t own the Marvel Multiverse or Thunderbolts (2025).

Please comment and leave kundus if you like the fanfic.

Also this is fluffy and probably will only have those two chapters, unless I have the muse to write more.

Again, enjoy yourselves. 💛

The Thunderbolts didn’t talk about downtime. They just sort of… drifted into it, like survivors on the same lifeboat pretending they weren’t all wet and about to drown and bleeding.

Charlie was not bleeding. He had meticulously cleaned the bloodstains from the floor of the shared Penthouse in the Tower after Yelena tracked them inside the house, reorganized the kitchen (twice), and restocked the med-kit, which Antonia had half-emptied stitching up Ava.

He had also—apparently—, clearly, nested. Even if Charlie woud deney it until his last breath.

Bucky found him in the common room, crouched beside the sofa with a throw blanket in his mouth like a territorial raccoon, muttering in Estonian while rearranging a pile of weighted blankets, an electric kettle, six mismatched mugs, and a small limegreen tactical ice-cream churner he absolutely hadn't stolen from a S.H.I.E.L.D. lab and painted. He had painted it for Bob who had said that "it looked sad in all brick gray".
Nobody really questioned Bob about those things, just fixed it. Though non of the others said anything about it, they were all happier with brighter colours, instead of the sad mechanical gray that Valentina made sure everything was.

"You’re nesting," Bucky said, like it was an accusation.

Charlie froze—literally. The air around him dropped a few degrees, and the kettle steamed in protest.

“I’m stabilizing the environment,” Charlie snapped. “And someone keeps leaving your war-damaged dignity on the furniture.”

Bucky rolled his shoulder, wincing as the vibranium arm, that now had a little muted rainbow painted over where the soviet star on his old Hydra arm used to be, whined loudly. “Lefty’s been sore since Berlin. Don’t take it out on my coping mechanism. That's uncalled for Snowflake.”

Without turning around, Charlie extended one gloved hand and touched the vibranium arm. There was a sudden hiss—then a burst of cold that sent frost lacing across Bucky’s knuckles. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to dull the phantom ache.

Bucky blinked. "...Thanks?"

“Next time,” Charlie muttered, wrapping the blanket tighter around his own shoulders, “try not accusing your ice witch of emotionally compromised nesting.”

Antonia, who’d been lurking silently by the stairs, muttered, “It is definitely nesting.”

“Shut up, mimic,” Charlie growled, disappearing into the kitchen with the kind of icy vengeance that would terrify a lesser household.

By sunset, the house smelled like cinnamon and browned butter and something faintly citrusy. Even Ghost drifted out of her room, ghosting through the walls with curious eyes.

The coffee table was now covered in Tupperware.
Yelena took one bite of a cookie and swore in Russian.

“These are criminal,” she announced. “You should be arrested.”

“They’re orange zest brown butter,” Charlie replied coolly, not looking up from where he was manually churning what appeared to be hand-crafted ice cream in sub-zero swirls of air above a cryo-core puck.

“For me?” Yelena asked.

Charlie didn’t answer.
They all knew what that meant.

 

One Hour later, the team gathered around mismatched bowls.

Ava's was lemon-lavender—floral and calming and engineered not to spike her molecular vibrations.

Antonia’s was black sesame with dark chocolate—rich, bitter, and complex.

Bucky’s was rocky road—because Charlie had googled “comfort flavor for emotionally damaged veterans.”

Yelena got double chocolate swirl with chili flakes. (“For aggression.”)

John’s was plain vanilla. He complained. Charlie ignored him.

Bob's was rainbow sherbet. He cried. The Void purred. No one spoke of it again.

Alexei was already on his third bowl of something that glowed slightly blue and kept muttering “Mother Russia never had this luxury…”

Charlie’s was simple—just plain snowflake cream with honey drizzle. He sat on the windowsill with one foot curled beneath him, spooning it slowly like it wasn’t a big deal that he’d spent five hours custom-engineering desserts to meet everyone’s biochemical and emotional profiles.

Bucky nudged him on the second bowl. “You gonna admit you care or just keep freezing your feelings into dairy products?"

Charlie didn’t look at him. “I care that the structural integrity of this household was compromised by poor medical rotation and someone throwing a combat boot into the ceiling.”

“That was Alexei,” Bob said softly. “He tried to kill a spider.”

“I was aiming,” Alexei insisted. “It dodged!"

Charlie sighed—loudly, theatrically—and handed Bucky a heat patch for his shoulder.
“You all require constant maintenance,” he muttered. “Like malfunctioning hard drives with daddy issues.”

“Love you too, Snowcone,” Yelena said through a mouthful of chili-chocolate. “Now shut up and eat your feelings.”

Chapter 3: Frostbite On A Fork

Summary:

Charlie cooks.

The team aprechiates this.

Notes:

I know I said this woud be a one-shot, but I'm on a roll right now.

Charlie is growing on me with his nurturing care.

Again I don’t own The Marvel Multiverse or Thunderbolts.

Enjoy, leave kundus and comments. Thank you.

If you want me to continue the Fic, comment please

Charlie slammed the fridge door so hard it rattled the ancient safehouse walls. The team, scattered around the living room trying to decompress, all froze in place like someone yelled "drop and roll" but nobody knew why.

“What the hell, Snowire?” Bucky called from his chair, wincing as he rubbed his frozen arm.
Charlie’s jaw was tight, eyes flashing cerulean blue beneath furrowed brows. “I’m making dinner. If anyone dares move from the perimeter, I will freeze your kneecaps.”

John raised his hands like he was surrendering to a particularly stern drill sergeant. “Hey, hey, no need to put the team in a freezer lockout.”

“John,” Charlie growled, “if you don’t want your knees frozen, stay out of the kitchen.”

Antonia quietly pulled her chair closer to the table, observing. Ava slipped silently toward the door, but Yelena caught her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yelena’s tone was sharper than Charlie’s frost.

Ava blinked. “To avoid... Frostbite on a Fork, apparently."

Charlie had already claimed the stove with the intensity of a predator guarding its territory. Pots clang, knives chopped through vegetables with surgical precision, and the hum of the cryo-core tech in his suit kept everything dangerously cold yet perfectly preserved.

He worked fast — the cold air swirling around the kitchen like a living thing — and muttered to himself in Estonian, swearing at the quality of the canned tomatoes and the slow drain on his patience.

Bucky leaned over to Yelena. “He’s nesting hard now.”

Yelena smirked. “Like a cat with an ice cream obsession.”

After twenty minutes of tense silence broken only by the rhythmic chopping and the occasional hiss of cryogenic bursts, Charlie flung the last pan on the stove, flames licking the edges of the carefully prepared stew.

He turned, face flushed, breath steaming in the cold air. “Dinner’s ready. Eat. Or I’ll make all the hot water into a literal ice bath.”

The team shuffled forward, plates in hand, but the food surprised them.

A hearty stew with root vegetables, tender meat, and an aromatic broth that smelled like comfort itself.

Ava’s eyes widened as she tasted it, warmth spreading across her chest. “This… this is amazing.”

Antonia nodded, swallowing carefully. “You’re really angry right now, aren’t you?”

Charlie stared at his steaming bowl, cold air still swirling faintly from his gloves. “I don’t have time for half-measures. You all should be eating better. Take care of yourselves damm it.”

Bucky smirked, lifting his spoon. “Aggressive nurturing. I get it.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow. “Charlie Kask: the only man who can simultaneously freeze your arm and cook you a five-star meal that melts your heart.”

Charlie finally cracked a small, grudging smile.

“And if anyone complains about the heat in the stew,” he added, “I will slowly freeze all of you into ice sickles.”

The team laughed — brittle but genuine — and for one night, the ghosts in their heads quieted beneath the steam rising from Charlie’s care.