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strixludica · 3 months ago

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The unappreciated art of making mecha look inhuman

Something I noticed lately, by browsing lots of lancer homebrew and fanart and comparing it to the official art, is that a lot of third party artists, across levels of artistic competence, made mechs that looked plain to me for a reason I couldn't pin down. Again, this was only weakly correlated with other metrics for artistic quality, like posing, shading, and linework. After comparing them closely with other art that didn't give me that vibe and art from 1st party material, I realized what gave me that feeling: their mechs looked too human; they looked like they could be convincingly portrayed by a person in a costume.

If you look closely at official Lancer art and the best fanart, you will notice there are always details making sure the subject is unequivocably a giant robot and not a person in sci-fi armor.

One strange but effective way this is achieved is the legs: each manufacturer has one or more distinct style of legs, with the only overlap being between SSC and RKF (which makes sense because SSC has close ties tot he Baronies). Let's go through them and see what about them makes sure you know this is a mech:

Smith-Shimano Corpro + Royal Karrakin Foundries: SSC has three kinds of lower limbs: the Horse Leg, which they share with RKF; the Foot Without Heel, and the Anatomically Correct Human Leg With Toes.

The Horse Leg is not only obviously inhuman, but also obviously unnatural, bacause no biped would be able to move properly standing on horse hooves: it would be like contantly doing a ballerina tip-walk using clown shoes; that is something only a mechanical device assisted by top-of-the-line automatic balancing could achieve.

The Heel-less foot, due to being used almost only for their spider-mechs Death's Head and Swallowtail, has little dehumanization work to do, but it does cover that function when used on the Dusk Wink, which *is* in fact a person in power armour, but still the artist took care of reminding us of how mechanical it is, by giving it feet which have little in common with boots or any other footwear. The Toed Leg seems, at first, to be the opposite of dehumanizing: it looks the most like an actual human bodypart, it feeds into SSCs fetishization of the Human Form (phrasing entirely intended). However, that is also the reason why it very clearly shows the Monarch and Mourning Cloak are robots: because no suit of armor would ever look like a naked leg; this level of anatomical fidelity only makes sense for something mechanical, whose skin *is* armor and as such doesn't need to cover itself.

Horus: Horus is mostly the easy one, with how most of the art gives their mechs beastly paws and hooves, gecko-like foot pads, or long, amphibian fingers whose vague semblance to human hands only contrasts with the blatantly monstous shapes of the Pegasus and Gorgon. However, they have four mechs portaryed with human-like legs.

The Hydra has little need to mask its mechanical nature, but the Lich commits the grave sin of being clothed, one of the biggest risk factor in making mechs look like dudes in armor. To counteract this problem, it's feet have two very evident inhuman characteristics: they have only two long, slender toes, and they touch the ground only with their futhest tarsus, in a way that makes it obvious they aren't bearing any actual weight, as if both Lich and Hydra were alway hovering a couple feet above the ground and used their feet only to skip along it, like a venetian boatman might do with their pole.

The other two exceptions are the Calendula, which being an RKF design has their trademark horse legs, and the Kobold, which already looks inarguably like a robot thanks to the barrel shae of its main body, the Horus-patented Pikey Blobs Aesthetic(tm), but still has feet with actual toes, which achieve the same effect as those from SSC.

GMS: For the longest time, GMS did not have art at all, but let's look at the [G] Type Everest from Op. Solstice Rain:

While the Boot with Auxiliary Side-Toes shape of the foot could potentially belong to a suit of armor, if we look up at the knee it's a different story: look at the slabs on either side of the joint which restrict it to one degree of freedom, as opposed to the frontal protection typical of armor for humans; look at the opposite bends of hip and shin, which almost makes the leg look digitgrade. Inequivocably robotic despite the clearly humanistic design. However, the lower parts of mechs are not the only way their design is dehumanized: we come now to Inter Planetary Shipping - Northstar and Harrison Armory, and in a curious inversion they take the opposite approach.

Although some legs of IPS-N mechs use the above principle (the Blackbeard's angular feet whose toes almost look like retractable claws, Drake's heel-less boots, and Lancaster and Kidd's SPOT-like hooves), a lot of their mecha have quite human-looking armoured boots. HA goes a step further, likely due to a deliberate stylistic choice stemming from the anthrochauvinist ideals: Their mechs look very much like armoured warriors, often even with little skirts like the Iskander or Sherman or reinforced *baltei* like Genghis and Tokugawa. With one important exception: their head.

IPS-N has a very distinctive One-Eyed Cylinder with Another Eye on the Top shape for their mecha, it's probably a deliberate par of their brand; it sees some variation like Drake's looking more liek a helmeted facemask and Stortebecker's tricorn, but even Lancaster and Kidd have a sort of vestigial head on the front with a single eye coming out of a slit.

HA's mecha have greater variation, but nevertheless for all that their body is as human-shaped as possible, their heads are always distinctly not: Barbarossa has a flat prism with a this transparent section on top, looking more like the control tower of an aircraft carrier than a head; Genghis, Tokugawa, and Gilgamesh both have canopies recessed into their bodies; Napoleon also has a barely-extruding canopy with a strange shape and covered in Blinkshield emitters that make it look like a bug-eyed little freak; Sherman is quite literally built around having a cannon for a face; and Sunzi has its drum-looking Blinkspace device. The only HA mech that has a "head" region separate from the rest of the body is Saladin, and even then it's a flat cylinder with a rectangular window in the middle: a design which would never work as a helmet but makes sense as a rotatitng cockpit with a canopy.

The observant among you will have notice that I left out four mechs: Nelson, Vlad, Enkidu, and Iskander. That is admittedly because they are those whose design asserts its inhumanity the least.

Of the first two, despite Nelson committing the sin of clothing, it also compensates hard by leaving a gap in its tabard to show the hatch for the pilot, while Vlad unfortunately does not, and with the weirldy human-looking eye, if there wasn't a pilot for scale one might legitimately not know it's a robot without context.

Iskander is the one mech in the entire Compendium which can be cosplayed without altering its proportion: cyclopism aside, this could be a person in future armor.

Enkidu also has a look which could work just as well for a human-scale cyborg, but given that it's a deliberate statement of intent it gets a pass. At the very least it's elongated head and pad-less feet make it obvious that this is not a person in armor.

Conclusion:

Although I cannot prove it without some double-blind polls, I think one of the secrets to a good mech design is making it look not only obviously like a robot, but also giving it pose, proportions, and details such that it would look big not just on a white background with no context, but that if you tried to shrink it and put it in a scene as though it was more or less the size of a person, people would realize that it's supposed to be larger.

#lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancerrpg #lancer #mecha #mecha art #mech #mechposting #drawing

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ffxivtribehydrae · 6 months ago

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Happy Pride from a few of the boys!

Dubus (Aro/Bi) > Cyrus (Demi - @neoma-eltanin ) with Zo'ogai (Ace) > Dusk (Pan)

#Adventure in Art #Pride #Dubus Hydrae #Dusk Hydrae #Zo'ogai Hydrae #Cyrus Eltanin #Yin and Yang #neoma-eltanin #Also took the opportunity to draw FF title screen style #Been wating to do that for a while

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neoma-eltanin · 1 year ago

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Prompt #20: Hamper

For FFXIVWrite2023 Character: Neoma Eltanin Warnings: None

It had been a nice day. A stroll through Gridania, a picnic in the Lavender Beds and a lovely weather at that. Neoma had enjoyed every bit of it, and Auro'usk was a good company. She got along well with him, and considered him a dear and close friend. He was one of few with whom she was incredibly open with, even allowing herself to cry in front of him when she so often would put on a brave face for others. He was a comfort, a reliable shoulder and a warm embrace.

He deserved nothing but the best from her, and she would not hesitate to offer him whatever he wanted of her. And on this day, he did ask for something.

Her heart.

It was a cruel fate, for him to desire the one thing she could not give. How terrified he was when he proclaimed his admiration for her, already fearing the inevitable rejection. Neoma wished dearly she could give him what he asked for, what he in truth probably had earned for all he had done for her. But she would not give him a love that was false.

Something hindered her. Something that would probably hinder her for all future, and never allow Auro'usk close enough to own what he longed for.

His brother.

Neoma did not know what her feelings towards Dusk were anymore. They had been in turmoil, even more so since his betrayal towards her and the company as a whole. His attempt to hurt... no, murder her friend was far beyond horrible and nigh unforgivable. But the fact still remained that she loved him once. Still did, in ways she was unable to explain.

They had held each other's hands. Felt each other's lips. Shared the nights with one another, and more.

She knew that were she to offer her heart to Auro'usk, it would tear him and his brother apart. And the love she felt for Auro'usk could never grow beyond that of a dear friend, one who deserved her honesty and truthfulness.

And that was all she could offer to him. A bitter, pitiful and heartbreaking truth.

The moment her words left her lips she could see how they crushed the hope in his eyes. Trampled into dust and washed away like rainfall.

And it hurt so much.

(Auro'usk Hydrae and Dusk Hydrae belong to @ffxivtribehydrae)

#ffxiv #ff14 #writing #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #Neoma Eltanin #Auro'usk Hydrae #Dusk Hydrae #his rejection was a painful moment #he deserves better

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ffxivtribehydrae · 1 year ago

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Dusk's tail is very expressive! It will act in different ways depending on emotion and intensity of said emotion. Probably very similar to how dog tails are. He's also got a very long tail so he has a tendency to knock things over by accident. Not to mention it is sensitive too, so he will be annoyed at anyone who tries to touch it.

Dubus' on the other hand is not very expressive. Though it got character still! His tail is incredibly short (Dusk stole the long tail genes) and almost always curled upwards (think shiba dog tail). However, when he is feeling very sad it will finally unfurl and hang limp. Also in opposite to Dusk, his tail is not very sensitive to touch. But if you put your hand on it it will automaticall react by twirling around your hand.

Question for Au Ra Havers!

Is your Au Ra's tail expressive like a cat or dog's? Does it move or twitch when they're feeling certain emotions or does it just keep still?

#meme #Dusk Hydrae #Dubus Hydrae #the other brothers also got small unique details to their tails #but Dusk and Dubus are the ones with most notable details!

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innorogers · 1 month ago

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Dusk

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: Wait, WHAT? After everything you’ve been through, you thought he wasn’t serious about you? Oh no, Steve had to make sure you understood how committed he was.

Warning: Angst but then Fluff? / Sad Steve / Angry Steve / Protective Steve / Past Revelations / Hurt & Comfort / Past Trauma / Happy Ending / Comfort Steve / This one is actually funny

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening

The compound is silent, bathed in the faint silver glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. Soft lights illuminate the hallways, leading the way. Steve’s steps echo through the room as he opens the training room door.

His insomnia hits again, harder and stronger than ever before. The adrenaline runs through his veins. His mind is restless. Burning. And this time, there was no bedtime story that could soothe the pain or anger he was going through. He doesn’t bother with gloves or wraps. He’s too pissed for that, too lost in his thoughts. All he wants to do is hit something.

His fists make contact with the heavy bag, sending it swinging in response. The sound of the impact echoes in the empty room, but it’s not enough. Not even close.

The image of you, standing alone against Frazer, fists clenched, blood dripping between your fingers, glass embedded in your palms. You were fighting back so hard against the control Hydra still held over you with those damn keywords. You were panting, agonizing, trying to survive. And the only thing he could do was watch.

He hits the bag harder, faster. The chains holding it creak from the force.

You were kneeling before a laughing Agent Frazer, desperately looking for the tranquilizer and pressing it into your neck before he could stop you. Before he could do anything.

Your body going limp in his arms, your eyes closed, and your breath going soft for what felt like an eternity as you slipped away from him.

He growls through gritted teeth, his punches landing with brutal strength.

This… horrendous lab. Children—your siblings—taken. Sacrificed. Experimented on. Killed. Their golden threads snuffed out as you hoped you were helping them. Steve’s heart clenches painfully, his vision narrowing. The memory of your voice, the anguish in it when you told him how you’d watched each of them fade, haunts him. You were forced to be part of it. They lied to you—how could they.

His punches grow more erratic, fueled by the rising storm inside him. Sweat drips from his brow, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. His knuckles split open, blood streaking the bag, but the pain barely registers. He isn’t stopping. Not until he can soothe these invisible scars in you.

Your soft voice, telling him how you watched helplessly as your siblings died around you. Your power shut down in self-defense, a last-ditch effort to survive the nightmare Hydra forced on you.

Steve clenches his jaw, his breaths coming in ragged gasps now. His fists slam against the bag like hammer strikes.

Each punch is harder, faster, more desperate. He can’t stop. He can’t fight the guilt, the rage, the sorrow. You had been through hell, and he hadn’t been there. He couldn’t protect you. He couldn’t save your siblings. He failed.

Your words, soft and kind despite everything. You caress his cheek, smiling in his arms, trying to comfort him.

"What happened to me isn’t a burden for you to carry, you know that, right?”

His rage peaks, spiraling out of control. He roars in frustration and punches the bag with all the strength he can muster. His fist collides with it, sending shockwaves through the air.

The bag explodes.

The canvas tears apart, sand spilling out in all directions like dust from a broken hourglass. The chains snap, and the bag slams into the floor, rolling limply as Steve stumbles back, chest heaving, fists bleeding.

He stares down at the mess he’s made, panting, his mind racing. But the anger doesn’t fade. It lingers, burning beneath his skin. Cause he knows…no matter how hard he hits, how much he punishes himself, it won’t change what happened to you.

It won’t change a fucking thing.

Not the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most, nor the fact that he failed in the first attempt at eliminating Hydra, or the second. You only escaped because the fucking popsicle machine ran out of power. Tony and Natasha rescued you. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t even remember where the fuck he was.

He drops to his knees, fists still clenched, blood dripping onto the floor. His breathing slows, and the silence creeps back into the room.

Grateful. The word echoes in his mind, like a bitter reminder. You were so grateful, so kind. To be alive. To be here, seeing everything. You loved every breath you took, and you loved him, with every glitter of your own golden thread.

But Steve couldn’t be grateful. Not yet. Not a bit. Not with all the pain, all the suffering, you had endured.

It’s so fucked up. It’s so wrong. It’s so terribly, terribly wrong. He couldn’t be grateful for something so broken. And he wasn’t going to be. He wasn’t stopping until he crushed the last being on this fucking earth that would hurt you like Agent Frazer. He wasn’t stopping until he’d made sure of that.

"Your girlfriend told me once that we should invent some kind of power-resistant punching bag, especially for you. At least to help with your sleeping issues when it's late, and you'd hang around the campus looking for bags to hit." A voice behind him. Tony leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

"Then one day, she told me that you slept well every night, so maybe you didn’t need them anymore." He chuckled. "I didn’t even know where to start to ask—like, why, when, how’d she know how Steve sleeps? But I didn’t, of course, because she blushed, and I just… didn’t want to tease her."

Steve didn’t turn back. He stayed quiet for a while. "She’s not my girlfriend. I haven’t asked."

"Oh, so… she’s your ‘I’ll make all the best gear for my baby so he won’t get hurt’ genius engineer, and you’re her ‘you touch my girl, and I’ll mash you with the new shield she just made for me' kind of relationship?”

Tony nodded. "And also, you both have this ‘I’d sacrifice myself for you’ vibe that makes you a great couple. I think it’s cute, actually."

Steve sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the couch. "Why are you here, Tony?"

"Maybe you won’t believe it, but I’m here for a friend." Tony sighed and sat next to him, keeping a safe distance, so as not to invade his space. "Just checked on her. Vital signs are fine. Injuries are starting to heal. She’s tough, and you don’t hear it, but… this is nothing compared to how we found her."

"You’re right." Steve frowned, looking down at his knuckles, the bleeding already stopped. "I don’t want to hear it."

They sat in silence for a while until Steve shook his head with a mixture of resignation and frustration.

"Why didn’t I know?"

Tony glanced over at Steve, sympathy softening his usual sharp edges.

“How would you? She never let anyone see the cracks. And that’s something we’ve been working on for the past few years. Hiding her. Blending her in. So no one would noticed, so she could be safe.”

Tony took a breath, weighing his words carefully.

“You’ve only met her due to an unexpected, and beautiful surprise. A sleepless night, I believe?”

Tony smiled. He pauses for a moment.“She thinks that was a gift, you know? Some kind of universe retribution for all the years of suffering and torture...and…” He patted Steve’s shoulder. “I think that too.”

“If you weren’t with her... what would have happened today?” Tony softened his voice. “If you hadn’t ended Hydra… maybe we’d never have found her, and she would have died... alone, in the dark, frozen, and without knowing that she was meant to be cherished, cared for, or loved. And…”

He glared at Steve as his expression shifted. “And no one would ever know that she even existed. Her siblings gone, all the memories about her would be…nothing, she would have been a file number. Lost within thousands of archives.”

Steve felt his whole body tense as Tony’s words landed. The mere thought of it was like a blast of icy water rushing down his spine, numbing him. A world where you were nothing but a forgotten experiment, a nameless file in some dusty Hydra archives, erased from existence. It twisted something in his chest.

The image of you dying cold and alone in some abandoned Hydra lab. No one to mourn you, no one to even know that you were gone. No trace left behind. It clawed at him, settling like a vice around his heart, tightening with every beat.

“Stop with this self-pity and self-destruction mode, Steve.” Reading his expression, Tony knew his words had an effect. “It’s in the past. She made it, she survived, and she’s happy. Put yourself together and stop bringing it up in the present.”

He grunted as he stood up and looked at Captain America with seriousness. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. Someone out there is trying to get and hurt your girl, Cap. Are you going to let them?”

Steve looked at the silent floor and the exploded bags for a while, then nodded. “You’re damn right.” He held Tony’s hand to stand up.

“Yup, I always am.” Tony smirked at him. “Go and get some sleep because tomorrow…” He clicked his tongue. “We have a briefing meeting since Nat is going to spend the night interrogating this guys and probably... you know, just a little bit of tango. Then analysis with Hill—shit, I shouldn’t have accepted that—and we have only 1,278 security protocols to discuss if you and your ‘not-my-girlfriend’ are going public or whatever.”

“And…” Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “Clean up this fucking mess, Steve, this is a 12 million training room for gods’ sake.”

Steve chuckled reluctantly. “Fine.” As he started tidying up the debris, he muttered: “This thing today, this agent, was straight after her.”

Tony was already at the door when he turned back. “Clearly. But I’m not gonna discuss this with you now at…” He looked at his watch. “3:22. My brain’s checked out. Unless it’s another half-the-universe-disappearing disaster, we’ve got this under control.”

Steve nodded, the weight of Tony's words settling into him. But it was more than that—your words still echoed louder. The reminder of how you wanted to move forward, how much you needed new memories. He knew Tony was right, but you... you were the one who truly brought him back from the edge. He inhaled deep, and started to pick up the mess he made.

“This is the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen…” says a cross-armed Sam, standing in front of a glass wall, observing a room filled with white lab coat experts. Led by the only two people wearing regular shirts: Tony and Bruce.

“That’s because you’re not a regular on this side of the compound.” Natasha tilts her head towards the unified silence and the steady room full of geniuses. “This is just… a normal Tuesday.”

“They haven’t moved for 15 minutes!” Sam says with an incredulous look. “You can’t tell me this is normal. Look at Bruce, he’s not even blinking.”

Both Maria and Natasha chuckled before Commander Hill explained, “Their brains are working. They’re deciphering that code.” She gestured toward the screen displaying the tangled mess of numbers and symbols. “Until they crack it, they won’t move.”

“If you turn on the neuro-transmission scan right now...” Natasha grinned, “it’s like the Fourth of July in there.”

“So, what exactly are they doing?” Sam considered turning on the scan just to see what was happening inside their heads.

“The guy that attacked us yesterday had this retinal lens used as spyware; it was transmitting everything he saw. We cracked the code and followed it to the hub where it was connected and transmitting data,” Hill finished her coffee and said, “And of course, it’s encrypted. There’s the source code…” She gestures towards the huge screen filled with numbers and letters that reads as Asgardian to Sam.

“That’s… one code?” Sam is shocked. “How’d they look if there were ten?”

“Technically… that’s one piece of the code. Not the complete…” Natasha begins to explain, then gives up. “Never mind.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just… asked the dude?”

“I did. And… it got messy…” Black Widow answers as she pours some coffee and hands another mug to the Commander, which she accepts gratefully.

“You killed him?! Are we allowed to do that?” Sam’s eyes widen, not entirely in disaproval.

“No! Of course not!” Natasha thinks about it for a second, then replies, “No. We can’t do that.” Although Steve would’ve loved to. She pauses. “He got, um… it looks like his brain was programmed. After he woke up, he was entirely a different person. He didn’t remember anything. He was… is, actually, Charles Frazer. A normal MI6 agent who lives in London with a beautiful family and was sent here to respect the New Era Project. He doesn’t remember anything from yesterday.”

“What?” The Falcon is stunned. “Can they do that now? Program someone’s brain?!”

“We talk to a tree that calls a raccoon his father, so…” Hill comments without taking her eyes off the screens.

“And the raccoon shoots big guns.” Natasha adds, as if that’s a valid point. “Well… the thing is, we don’t know when this programming thing happened. Has he always been like this? A spy with sleeper cells that suddenly woke up? Is he really a normal agent who underwent modification just before coming here? We’re doing a lot of background checks, but this guy is… immaculate. Clean. Like this glass.”

“That’s… even more suspicious.” Sam frowns. “But Dr. Lancaster said he looked just like her brother, and… I’ve seen the files. He does look like Four. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“Probably his face was altered too. We just have to figure out when.”

“In any case, I don’t think the guy is normal.” Shaking his head, the Falcon isn’t buying it for a second. “No regular person takes a punch like that from Cap and wakes up. I thought the dude’s skull was broken.”

“Where are they, anyway?” Natasha starts typing on the screen. “I think Steve should be part of this conversation. Where is he? Making the windows foggy?”

“Unfortunately, no,” says Steve as he walks into the room, resignation in his voice, though his steps are steady and recovered. “She’s in R&D3 already. Back to work.”

He shakes his head. There was no way you’d go home and rest after being discharged, and honestly, he wasn’t comfortable leaving you alone. So, the best place for you (after promising for the 26th time you wouldn’t do any heavy work) was a lab full of people where you could put your mind elsewhere.

“As we all should.” Natasha raises an eyebrow at Steve. “No one here can afford to be a porcelain doll, y’know?” She’s not easy to break and far from being easily corrupted. She doesn’t say it, but her expression makes it clear.

“I know.” Steve nods with a serious expression. Yesterday, you had shown remarkable strength, remaining composed even when restlessness set in.

“Since we’re on the same page…” Commander Hill approaches the table and leans with a professional smile. She really doesn’t have time to waste. “We need to talk about the 1,278 security protocols that Stark wanted me to discuss with you.”

“Ugh,” Steve says with irritation. But then, this is your security they’re talking about, so he surrenders. “Fine.”

You didn’t know about the struggles Steve was going through as he listened to the extensive, detailed, laser-focused report Maria was giving him regarding ‘how many scans people had to pass just to approach you or your lab’ or ‘the perfect plan for your girlfriend to walk through the campus with you holding hands without being posted on social media’.

No, you were in another state of pink haze because the man you loved had said, “I love you.”

Ahh, the sky was blue, the clouds were like cotton candy (not that you’d know because you’d never tasted it before), your plants were growing strong, and yes, you had a terrible past. There was this guy who had leaked information to God knows who super dark organization, letting them know you were an ex-Hydra agent blended within the Avengers.

And by the way, that guy looked just like your dead brother and he tried to manipulate you through brainwashing. You had stitches in your knees and arms, and you shot yourself enough tranquilizer to kill a cow…but ha… who gives a shit, the most perfect, gorgeous man has said that he loves you. Like, priorities, right?

“Someone is in a good mood…” Your colleague slash friend Dr. Lin observed you and swirled around in the chair. “Alright, alright, so the mysterious date has become…a boyfriend?”

“Oh no, he is not…” You were caught off guard, and that made you think for a moment.

Wait…

What are the social protocols for calling Steve your boyfriend? Is that something people would assume after some steps of development in their relationship? Or was it a conclusion people would reach after certain premises: like intimacy, living in the same house, or having to face some dude who tried to brainwash you together?

Is it something that you or he would be entitled to call each other after those steps were fulfilled? And also, there’s this thing about… are you the only one? Yes, you live in a society that has historically been monogamous in most cultures. But things are different now. Polygamy is becoming more accepted. You wouldn’t like that, but of course, you couldn’t force him into that. Like, there are gorgeous women around him, that’s true…

“Honey…” Dr. Lin could see the ‘loading…’ sign on your forehead now that you were frozen in thought. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

“I have some questions, Dr. Lin… no, Robert.” You put the computer in sleep mode and turned around. “Would the fact that he said ‘I love you’ make him my boyfriend?”

“Well… did he introduce you to his friends as his ‘girlfriend’?”

“Um… no.”

“Did you talk about it? Like, in which place are you standing? Or where are you heading?”

“Um…” You looked up as you remembered. “No. But we did talk about ‘making more beautiful memories’ together”.

“Oh shit.” Robert’s face shifted to ‘Gurrlllll…’ He carefully chose his words but wanted to be really clear: “And, uh… did he mention or hint that he wanted to be your boyfriend?”

“Mmm… no.” You shook your head. Not literally, at least.

“And you’re sure there’s no one else in his life?”

“Well. Yeah.” You made an obvious face. It’s not like he has the time; he is with you (or inside you) every night.

“I’m just saying…” Robert raised his hands. “There are a lot of dudes who’ll say anything to keep their bed warm.”

“Well… he is special.” You felt compelled to defend Steve. “He never lies.”

Robert almost choked. “Alright, darling… look, just make sure he’s not just banging you and planning to break your heart, okay? There are a lot of assholes out there, and trust me… you’re like a blank canvas for them, which makes you incredibly hot and attractive, but still… there are a lot of douchebags…”

“Mmm.” You were immersed in your thoughts again, analyzing what Dr. Lin had said, and as your “Loading…” sign appeared on your forehead, Robert just left you to it.

You had this way of getting so lost in your thoughts that the outside world faded away. You operated on autopilot, so you didn’t even realize how you’d gotten up at lunchtime and wandered into the common area where Steve was waiting. You didn’t notice the worried look on his face, nor the glance he exchanged with his teammates when you all sat down at the table, ready for lunch.

‘Ask her if she’s okay.’ Natasha’s eyes silently urged Steve.

‘Of course she’s not okay. After everything she’s been through.’ Steve replied with his glare.

‘Maybe she is just tired?’ Said Maria from the other corner.

‘She does look sad…or confused.’ Observed Tony too.

‘Can you pass me the salt, please?’ Sam added to the silent conversation.

While the Avengers exchanged silent signals, you made up your mind to ask the questions that had been gnawing at you directly.

“What does it mean when people say that ‘you’re just banging me’?” You turned to Steve and asked.

Natasha spat her water out in Clint’s face, and Sam choked on a peanut.

"And I’m not against polygamy, but I think I’d be better in a monogamous relationship. If… we’re not just ‘banging.’" You nodded, speaking with honesty.

“I…” Steve tried to respond, but was interrupted by the hysterical laughter from Tony and Natasha as they rushed to save Sam from choking. (“Why would you have peanuts at lunchtime?!” Black Widow asked in a mix of laughter and disbelief.) Steve didn't know what to say, but a smile finally spread across his face as he looked at you in awe.

After the nightmare you’d all gone through yesterday, it felt like a lifetime since he’d actually smiled or felt any joy. Yet here you were, as you always are when he’s with you, with your clever, unexpected comebacks that washed away all his anger, anxiety, and rage. And your strange yet brilliant mind made him feel… so happy.

“Babe…” he chuckled, squeezing your hand and using a word he never imagined he’d use: “We’re not just banging…”

“We’re not?” You looked at him, a little confused, noticing his ears turning red. Lowering your voice, you added, “But that’s what we do every night… isn’t it?”

“OMG!” Clint stood up, covering his ears, trying not to burst out laughing. “Dr. Lancaster, may I kindly remind you this is a room full of people with extraordinary powers, including super-sensitive hearing… something we can’t exactly control?”

“Oh.” You blushed slightly, realizing how blunt you’d been, and leaned closer to Steve. “So ‘making love’ would be the right word?”

Steve chuckled as the rest of the team erupted in laughter. He squeezed your hand and smiled. “Yes, honey, that would be correct.” he said, amidst laughs and coughing.

Of course, you weren’t just banging. Steve had made up his mind to ensure you had no doubts about that. After the hilarious, "we'll talk about this for years" lunch, he gathered everything he needed to prove it to you and headed to the lab.

It was well past dinner when he arrived, and the place was empty, the only light coming from your desk. You knew he'd be late, so you waited for him to pick you up.

Leaning against the doorway, Steve watched you quietly for a moment, a soft smile forming on his face. You were completely absorbed in your work, brow furrowed in concentration. He didn’t want to interrupt, captivated by the focus you showed, his heart swelled as he took a few steps toward you.

"Hey… just… one minute…" You noticed his footsteps and quickened your typing. "I’ll wrap this up."

"There’s no rush at all." Steve sat in the chair beside you, smirking, though you didn’t notice, still immersed in your work.

"Just… borrow your hand, please?" he asked softly, knowing you were on autopilot. Without looking away from the screen, you automatically lifted your hand.

You felt something delicate wrap around your ring finger. Glancing up, you saw a slender golden thread circling it, secured by a tiny knot. Your eyes followed the thread as a delicate silver ring slid down, fitting perfectly. Startled, you looked up to see Steve raise his hand, revealing the other end of the thread tied around his own ring finger.

"What… what is this?" you asked softly, surprised.

"Well… I didn’t get the exact ‘sparkling glitter golden thread’ like you described, but… you get the idea." Steve smiled, standing up to kiss the back of your hand. "This is proof that I’m not just banging you, or…" He chuckled, "something that asks if I could bang you for the rest of our lives."

He paused, trying to remember Tony’s exact words.

"And it’s also a 'high-frequency, multi-sensorial ring capable of real-time biometric and geospatial transmission. Embedded with micro-electromechanical systems that continuously monitor and broadcast vital stats—heart rate variability, galvanic skin response, and core temperature—with GPS coordinates. Plus, a predictive analytics algorithm to interpret physiological fluctuations, allowing for real-time detection of anomalies in health and emotional state.'"

"Oh wow…" you breathed, genuinely shocked. "Did you memorize all that?"

Steve laughed and nodded. "Tony insisted you should know exactly what you were wearing."

"Awww, babe…" You couldn’t stop laughing. "This is the most romantic stalker device I've ever had."

He let out a hearty laugh and showed you his ring. "It’s connected to mine," he said, pulling you closer, his hands settling at your waist as he pressed his forehead against yours. "And I used a golden thread—the one that represents life—because you’re my life now."

"Steve…" You gently caressed his face, looking down at your hands, the rings connected by the golden thread. Really in shocked.

"And… you’re sure? Won’t people notice?"

"Trust me, I went through 1,278 protocols before deciding on this. Honestly, I made up my mind long before that. Hill said I could've spared her the torture of explaining all those, and she wanted to punch me right in the face afterward, but…" His voice softened.

"I don’t want you living in shadows or secrets anymore. I’ll be with you, always, by your side. And…"

"And since whoever our enemy is already knows about me, they’ll think twice before coming after us, seeing that I’m with the Captain of the Avengers." You nodded.

"Yeah, that. But more importantly…" He kissed you softly after laughing.

"Because I don’t know how to live without you. This ring… it’s just a way of showing how serious I am. How much I love you."

He smiled suddenly, a memory flashing in his eyes. "Do you remember what you asked me the first day we met?"

"I think so…?" You hesitated, unsure which moment he was referring to. "We talked for like 10 hours that night."

"You asked me, when you added your number to my phone, 'What do you want me to be, for you?' And I answered…"

"‘My Everything,’" you whispered.

"That’s right." He sealed it with a kiss.

"You are my everything."

You were quiet, and in awe. Just like the night you met him. For so long, you’d been searching, drifting in and out of the shadows, living in the remnants of broken fairy tales. But now, standing here with him, you realized those tales had never really been broken. They’d just been waiting — for this.

You were no longer lost, no longer broken and sifting through the ashes of old stories. You’ve found this. Your own spectacular fairy tale, and the best part? It’s real. You had been given the right to love, to be loved, to finally be someone’s everything.

And for the first time, you truly believed it.

End

Continue to:

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

Andddd I'm sorry I'm posting so late today, but having two full time jobs is hitting really hard, will try to maintain regularity as I can. But its getting hard! Thanks for reading thus far and I hope you enjoyed the chapter, mayb posting a different story next friday ;) See you then!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim

Love.,

Moon.

#captain america x reader #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x reader #captain america x you #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x ofc #captain america fanfiction

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vexwerewolf · 7 months ago

Note

Not the original asker, but how would you make NPC equivalents of PC mechs? Some stuff feels fairly intuitive, but there are some others that I'm less sure of/not sure how to do.

IPS-N

IPS-N mechs are probably the easiest, since there are many mechs that are close to being 1-to-1 NPC approximations of IPS-N mechs.

Blackbeard - One of the easiest, since the Berserker NPC is basically just a Blackbeard. It has the Chain Axe, it has the reckless speed and it has the inability to properly determine between friend and foe. It doesn't have the Blackbeard's enhanced Grapple shenanigans but those aren't really appropriate on an NPC mech anyway.

Caliban - Give an Assassin the Devil's Cough Shotgun and Explosive Knives.

Drake - Take the Bastion, increase its HP just a little, remove the Rotary Grenade Launcher and give it the Scourer's Thermal Lance, except make the Thermal Lance do Kinetic damage instead of Energy.

Lancaster - Another easy one. The Support NPC is just a slightly slower Lancaster. It has a Latch Drone, it has Restock Drones, it has Whitewash, it's got all the fun stuff.

Nelson - Yet another easy one. The Cataphract does pretty much exactly what the Nelson does, just with added trample.

Raleigh - This is much more difficult - so much so that for In Golden Flame, I created an entirely new NPC class, the Slinger, just to simulate it. If you don't have IGF, start with an Assault. Remove the Assault Rifle, Combat Knife and Hunker Down. Take the Drum Shotgun from the Goliath and call it a Hand Cannon. Give it the Archer's Impending Threat optional.

Tortuga - This one's fairly simple. Take a Sentinel, upscale it to Size 2, give it Punisher Ammunition and the Bombard's Siege Armor.

Vlad - Take a Berserker, give it the Nail Gun optional, and then give it the Bastion's Near-Threat Denial System.

Zheng - Take a Berserker, give it Juggernaut and Retribution, remove Aggression, remove the Chain Axe and replace it with the Demolisher's Demolition Hammer.

SSC

SSC mechs also have a lot of parallels, so it's pretty easy to model them.

Black Witch - Probably the hardest mech to model with existing NPCs. I created another whole new class, the Lodestone, just to simulate these guys.

Death's Head - Take a Sniper, cut the damage on its Anti-Material Rifle to 6/8/10, strip the Loading trait and permanently give it the effect of Deadmetal Rounds (shots become Line 20 instead of Range 25).

Dusk Wing - Literally just a Hornet.

Metalmark - Take an Assault and give it the Operator's Fade Generator.

Monarch - Depending on the exact flavour of Monarch you want, you can do two things. Either take a Rainmaker, scale it up to Size 2 and give it Atlas Missiles the Ace's Missile Swarm, or take an Ace, scale it up to Size 2 and give it Missile Swarm.

Mourning Cloak - Literally just a Specter.

Swallowtail - Literally just a Scout.

HORUS

HORUS mechs are where we need to get a little bit more inventive. This shit ain't natural boys.

Balor - Take a Hive, give it Electro-Nanite Cloud and the Berserker's Harpoon Cannon, then give it the Exotic template and choose Regenerator. Or, if you have No Room For A Wallflower, just use the Lurker NPC.

Goblin - It's a Witch.

Gorgon - Take a Sentinel, scale it up to Size 2 and give it the Archer's Impending Threat and Suppress reactions.

Hydra - There's not really an NPC that simulates a mech deploying 800 drones and honestly that's probably for the best.

Manticore - Give a Berserker the Superhot optional, the Cataphract's Capacitor Discharge, the Sentinel's Combat Shotgun and the Operator's Self-Erasure.

Pegasus - Do not attempt to simulate me, ha ha.

Harrison Armory

Home stretch here.

Barbarossa - Take a Goliath, give it the Ultra's Short-Cycle Lance or the Bombard's Bombard Cannon.

Genghis - Literally just a Pyro.

Iskander - This is just a Seeder.

Napoleon - Why does this mech exist

Saladin - Scale up an Aegis to Size 2.

Sherman - Take a Scourer and give it Emergency Vent.

Tokugawa - Take a Berserker and give it Superhot. Make its Chain Axe do Energy instead of Kinetic, and instead of Shredding on crit, make it do a couple of Burn damage.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #mecha #mechs #lancer npcs

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whitexwolfxx310 · 5 months ago

Text

|| You're A Weapon; And Weapons Don't Weep ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After Bucky discovers that your once thought to be dead older brother is HYDRA's new super soldier, you're chosen to go on a mission with the team.

Warnings: **PLEASE READ** This fic contains death. If the idea of unaliving someone can possibly trigger you, please do NOT read this. Anxiety attack, cursing, angst, random sprinkles of fluff, use of y/n.

Word Count: 4.7

A/Ns: It has been way too long, but I finally got to write for my BBWWS again. I have a feeling there won't be too many chapters left for Bucky and his Sunshine. But I have been working on other ideas and another series is in the process. I hope you enjoy reading. I love you all! The messages, comments, reblogs, likes, etc. literally give me life and inspired me to come back and get into writing all over again. Enjoy your weekend, besties!!

Previous Part // Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Any shred of hope that life would be returning back to normalcy remotely anytime soon got washed away by the tidal wave that was the news of your brother being the new super soldier for Hydra.

Tony and Steve called for intel meetings that basically became a fulltime job. At first it felt like an interrogation. They questioned you, curious as to why you would apply for an internship at The Compound. While the circumstances did seem suspicious, they eventually were able to rule out any foul play on your part.

The gatherings soon turned into wanting to know every intricate detail that they wouldn't be able to look up or hack out of any system. From dawn to dusk, the two men asked about your childhood together- trying to connect the pieces as to who Luke is, or was. Bucky stayed silently by your side the entire time and offered a stabilizing hand when things got overwhelming to discuss. But it also didn't slip by you that he focused on each and every detail, noting the intel for this mission.

After being able to specify things so minute; such as your brothers favorite books, favorite teacher from grade school, or the fact that he likes the color green- but not just any green, Sacramento green, because it reminded him of the vines that grew around the windows of your grandparents cottage that you would spend the majority of your summer's at as kids, you also got chosen to go on this mission. There was some minor pushback from the team, but ultimately Bucky took responsibility for you. You knew that he would keep you safe, even if it meant putting the part of his very soul that he felt remained on the line for you.

To say that the training was brutal would be an understatement. While the others had an entire lifetime to perfect their craft and years working alongside one another in unity, you had only a matter of weeks. You were thrown into a constant rotation of being educated on the newest technologies developed by Tony, boxing and going over endless tactical strategies with Steve, knowledge of weaponry with a hint of ballet to stay light on your feet with Nat... pure exhaustion wouldn't begin to describe it.

The day came when intel showed the Swiss Alps would be first on the mission log. Everyone was treating it like just any other, but the dreaded encounter was weighing down heavily deep within your stomach. The thought of using yourself as bait to lure out your brother spiraled into the millions of anxious outcomes that kept you up at night. Finally giving you just the smallest glimpse into Bucky's world. The doorway was creaked open to his nightmares.

"Wooow. You look like a Bad. Ass." Sam annunciates amusingly, as his eyes land on you walking up the small rear cargo ramp of the jet.

Your cheeks instantly blush, having already been self-conscious about the skintight, black Kevlar suit Nat gave you to wear. As more footsteps approach, you sink more into your seat and try to avoid any more eye contact.

"Just so you know, I heard that." Bucky's voice rebounds off of the metal walls before he even makes his way completely into the jet. "Don't try and make passes at my girl when I'm not aro-"

You don't need to look up to know that those steel blue eyes have frozen you into place, but you dare a glance. He's dressed in all black; Black boots, black tactical pants, a black leather jacket with the left sleeve torn off- showing his gunmetal and gold Vibranium arm, and a black glove on his right hand. The sight of him is intimidating, ready for combat and anything to be thrown his way. But those eyes. They hold a tenderness meant only for you. His magnetizing stare mixed with the wonderment expression on his face confirms his friends words and more. Okay, so maybe the suit isn't so bad.

"You're gawking." Sam is now at Bucky's side, smirking with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Bucky's face slides back into its usual consternation state before giving him a side glare. "Shut up." Sam shakes his head, laughing to himself lightly before making his way to the front of the jet.

You move to sit upright as he approaches, and Bucky's face finally softens. It always does when it's just the two of you. He reaches above where you're sitting to an overhead rack, casually leaning. Hovering like one of those seductive book boyfriends you'd swoon over, but for him it just comes naturally. Swallowing hard, you angle your head up to look at him. You find a slightly playful grin tugging at his lips and you crack a faint smile.

"You doing okay, Sunshine?" His voice is soft but concerned. A gloved thumb caresses down your cheek. The doting gesture entrances you to gently nuzzle into his palm.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

He reflects on this a moment, his eyes searching yours. But he looks slightly blurry. The background noise is starting to become overwhelming. Numerous voices all start to overlap, the jet engines growing louder as they're warming up, the loud bang with each shipment container with weapons being loaded on board- weapons intended for my brother. It all combines into one long dragged-out, high-pitched ringing sound and your throat closing in on itself. Bucky senses this, notices and quickly acts. Wide eyed, he drops to his knees.

"Hey... Hey, y/n. It's okay." He quickly unfastens the harness from your seat. "Deep breaths." You can't help but notice how calm he sounds. "Hey...look at me." Bucky gently cups each side of your face, the intense coolness on the one side being a welcomed shock. Your eyes meet his, and when they do, all you see is his devotion. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you."

"I know you are." You mutter, pressing your forehead to his as you try to manage your breathing to match his.

"We'll find him." He breathes. "I made it out, he can too. I won't let anything happen to you while we’re out there, y/n." The urgency that his tone is trying to convey is heart wrenching.

"I know, Bucky."

"Here-" He pulls away for a moment to take a bag off his back. Unzipping it, he pulls out a water bottle. "Drink some water."

You smile internally at the gesture. As he's unscrewing the cap, you notice a novel in the bag. It's one he borrowed from you when you first met. There's a familiar stinging behind your eyes. What did I do to deserve this man? One who is willing to walk back into his version of hell to pull out someone that I love?

Sipping on the water of course helped, but Bucky tucking you securely into his side for takeoff is what kept the overwhelming anxiety at bay.

“I love you, so much.” You say against his chest, in appreciation. He snorts slightly, pressing a delicate kiss into your hair.

“And I love you, Sunshine.” Bucky adjusts his hips slightly. “Get some rest, we have a long flight.” Intricate fingers brush through your hair, eventually lulling you to sleep in the safe space that is your boyfriend’s lap.

Distant muttering started reeling you back from a dreamless sleep. Instinctively, you reach for Bucky whom you thought you were still sleeping on- only to find he had replaced it with his bag. The disappointment was starting to settle in when you hear his voice:

“I know how this can come across, but she’s strong enough. She’ll be able to handle it, Tony. I’m here, I can-“

“All I’m hearing is I, I, I, me, me, me, Barnes. You, my friend, were an exception. I don’t know if we can go in there and get this guy out alive, and even if we can, who knows what the aftermath is going to look like! For either of them! We’re taking a regular, a nobody off the street and putting a lot of pressure on her to do this. She’s already starting to feel it, that much is obvious. I’ve said from the beginning that this is a huge mistake. I understand your feelings here, from both sides. You want to make sure HYDRA doesn’t continue to pop up like daises and be there for the love of your life. I GET it. But this is a mistake.”

It’s apparent that Stark has walked away with the clinking of his heavy metal footsteps.

“You picked a good one, Buck. I have faith in her too.” There’s a small reassuring pat to coincide with Steve’s voice. “Y/n’s one of us now.”

“Thanks, Steve. I just… I have to save him. For her.” You can hear the exasperation in Bucky’s voice.

While tears sting from multiple emotions behind closed eyes still pretending to sleep, you feel overcome with something you haven’t experienced in this situation yet; determination. A sudden tenacity to prove the doubters that you can do this, that you can help your brother just how Bucky had, and that you wouldn’t bail and have a breakdown… again. No. From this point on, you refuse to let anyone see you as weak.

The bag underneath your head gently shifts and is quickly replaced with warm body heat that you quickly snuggle into. That warmth spreads as Bucky wraps his right arm around your body, pulling you in a little closer. His heart rate starts to slow, and his breathing becomes more regular. You just soak in the last moments before the unknown.

“He’s really going to just jump out the back of the jet like that?!” You try to yell, over the loud wind rumbling and your hair whipping around.

With Sam’s back facing towards you, he takes one absentminded step off of the opened ramp and is just gone. Your stomach drops along with him at the sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he hands you an earpiece, “Yep,” A second later, Sam comes back into view, now soaring with his Falcon wings. He gives Bucky a little sarcastic two finger salute and flies out of view. “He’s flashy like that.”

Putting the impossibly small earpiece into your ear, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. It must be an almost forgotten sound with the weight of everything going on because now Bucky is smiling too.

“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to jump out of a plane,” you say only half joking. Because if that’s the case, he’s going to have to literally throw you out.

“What did you think the parachutes were for?” Bucky asks deadpan, with a raised eyebrow and pointing to the packs behind him.

All of the color starts to drain from your face, when suddenly you saw the slightest twitch in Bucky’s lip.

“Oh my god. You asshole!” Bucky grabs his stomach and starts to hunch over laughing as you hit him in the arm. His metal arm. “OW!” You start shaking your hand out to wave away the initial sting.

Glancing at him, Bucky is doubled over, nose scrunched, laughing so hard that barely any noise is coming out and tears are welling up in his eyes. It’s contagious, especially as the throb in your hand turns into a dull ache.

I’ve missed this. Things being simple with us and not so draining. Moments that resemble a drop of normalcy in a typical ‘would be’ relationship. But I still wouldn’t trade it. Because he’s perfect. And he’s mine.

Once your lungs don’t feel like they’re on fire any longer, you let you a deep sigh, resting your hands on your hips. “God, I needed that.”

“Did you really think I would toss you out of a Quinjet?”

“Seemed like it in the moment-”

“Alright, love birds,” Tony interrupts, the heavy metal footsteps of his Iron Man armor catching both of your attention, "don't be late to the party," he says knowingly, palms glowing before he too disappears out of the jet.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bucky says, now standing next to you, “I have my own flashy transport,” he side eyes you with a playful grin.

Arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s stomach; you can’t help but snuggle your cheek into his leather covered shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s idea of flashy would be a motorcycle.

Your eyes flutter open to see Steve on his own come into view through whips of your hair. The boys. Two best friends riding like they don’t have the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders.

Steve’s bike has a bulky, all chrome classic look while Bucky’s is a modern, all black crotch rocket. Both have been modified to drive relatively quietly, and it’s such a weird dichotomy to still be able to feel the rumbling of the bike between your legs without all the noise.

One of your hands releases the clasp they had on one another, pressing your palm against Bucky’s chest- smoothing itself along his abdomen. Bucky sits more upright in his seat to press back into you more, using only his left hand to steer as his right encloses around yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. The gesture is so minor, and yet you can just feel how he puts his heart into everything when it comes to you.

"We're going to pull off to the side up on the left. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot," Steve's voice is solemn in your earpiece.

Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgement, leaning back down to better control the motorcycle. This time, his hand doesn't leave yours.

The trek through the Switzerland forest was less than a mile, but with each step your feet grew heavier and that sour stomach of yours returned with the dread of seeing your brother again. If he could even be considered your brother anymore. Who knows what actually remained. As much as you have begged and pleaded with the universe to make yet another exception for Lucas just as it had for Bucky, you were terrified of the man that you would soon encounter.

Just shy of coming out of the tree line to the supposed to be abandoned old military base, you hear a series of echoing pops- stopping all three of you dead in your tracks.

Gunshots.

Bucky and Steve exchange a quick, wide-eyed glance at one another, “Go, we’ll catch up.” Bucky says, and within the blink of an eye, Steve takes off running at super soldier speed.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Bucky turned to face you, his shoulders squared, lips in a tight thin line. But looking between your eyes, he loosens a breath, gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me, Sunshine,” he makes every attempt to soften his voice, but a few more pops and yelling sound off in the distance making you wince. His hands grip you tighter, “I need you to focus. What I’m about to say goes against everything I normally believe, but in this circumstance it’s critical…” he sighs, looking down before back into your eyes- trying to convey the seriousness of what he’s saying, “you have to push the fear down. And I know how that sounds, but you can’t walk in there with that look on your face. Because honey, these people will not hesitate to kill you.”

You gasp lightly at the graveness of his words. It’s not like you didn’t know this walking into the mission, but it’s different once you’re actually here.

Bucky sighs again, his expression softening as his hands cup each side of your face especially gentle, “I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave your side,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “I just… I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks slightly, even at just the thought.

Even with your eyes teetering with the threat of tears, you nod in understanding. Placing each of your hands over his, you press your lips to Bucky’s- holding them there, accepting that the moment they pull apart it’s no longer about the two of you, but about the mission. Luke is your mission.

“I love you,” you murmur, before opening your eyes to see deep consternation in his.

Disassociation is a powerful coping mechanism for human beings. It can feel like an outer body experience or even a dream. More like a nightmare. But as you follow into the bunker where the screaming leads, closely behind Bucky with your gun drawn watching for any sudden movements and stepping over the trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway, you're thankful for the part of your brain trying to convince you that this isn't real.

"Still no sign of Castle," Sam's voice was pragmatic in your earpiece.

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you while still walking, "Maybe he's not here after-" and that's when you see the slightest shift of a shadow in an inverted doorway.

It was so small that in any other instance you would just assume your eyes were just playing a trick on you. But not here. Your body reacted before your mind could even fully register- taking a sudden step to the side, you fired off two prompt shots. A heavy thud followed.

Practically giving himself whiplash, Bucky looks at where you shot and back to you. His eyes widen, mouth open slightly at the realization of what just happened. What you just did- for him. Your eyes haven't moved from that doorway, and your grip is tighter on the gun than it probably should be. Pain surges through your jaw with how tightly your teeth are clenched and yet, you wait to see if anyone else is there. Is there another shadow lurking just waiting for the opportunity to harm one of you?

"Y/n..." Bucky's voice is delicate as his eyes dart around, also looking for shadows, "we have to keep moving," he says in a coaxing manner.

I can’t. The words blare in your mind like a doomsday siren and yet you can’t speak. All you can do is focus on that that dark corner where the pool of crimson continues to grow.

Bucky steps in line of your gun with somber eyes meeting yours, causing you to simultaneously point it towards the ground and break your trance. You didn’t realize just how high and how tight your shoulders had been as you loosened your breath. A new version of you being transformed as you exhale.

“I-” You try catching your breath, completely slack jaw and shaking your head just trying to comprehend what you did. “I…I just-” and the tears are flowing. No crying, no uncontrollable sobbing, but a small steady line of tears as the overwhelming awareness of taking control and trading a life for someone that you love comes to light… just flows.

“You did what you had to,” he answers for you, nodding sympathetically. You don’t deserve kindness right now, do you? But that is why he is good. And that is why he deserves to live.

“We have to go, y/n.” Bucky says, looking over your shoulders and behind himself again. “It looks like no one else has been down here yet.” He grabs your hand, not waiting for a response before he’s treading down the hallway again.

Your feet shuffle instinctively at first to follow him, but the brightness of the flickering fluorescent lights quickly grounded you to where you actually are. There are lives at stake and you need to keep your head.

The distant noise of constant struggle seemed to almost completely stop. Every few minutes you would hear a familiar voice say 'clear' in your ear and relief would wash over you, just thankful for knowing that they were alive.

It got cold the further you went, meaning you probably had gradually descended underground. Finally, at the end of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel, was a large set of metal double doors with multiple large chains and padlocks.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance with one another before he fists the chain with his Vibranium hand, pulling effortlessly as they break into pieces. He pushes open the doors to reveal a large, primarily empty room aside from a bunch of dusty, bulky outdated computers. Most of the overhead lights don’t work, so it seems darker in here than it did in the corridor.

Bucky steps into the room and starts looking around, his boots crunching noisily on worn rubble and glass. You hold your breath, watching as his fingers skim along the keyboards, his eyes squinting at the monitors as he passes each one as though looking for something.

And then he stops at one in particular. He eyes it carefully before looking up at the ceiling to the lights again.

“What is it?” You can’t hide your curiosity.

“There’s still power to this base,” he says observantly, turning his attention back towards the computer. “Maybe…” he mumbles to himself, leaning over the monitor a bit, his fingers blindly searching before pressing the power button. Bucky stands back as the screen comes to life, but his eyes widen, alarmed as to what he sees.

“Bucky?” You ask apprehensively, moving to stand next to him and also look at the screen. It's mostly black, but there's a green contour of... a face?

"Hello Sergeant Barnes," the computer says with a German accent.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Bucky steps back, his hands fisting into his hair.

The voice chuckles, "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

“Is… the computer talking? To you?”

“Why, yes, Ms. Castle. I am,” your stomach turns over at the sound of the voice addressing you as well.

“What the fu-” you go to repeat Bucky’s words but get cut off.

“Does the facility seem… familiar, Barnes?” Zola asks, condescendingly. “Or, at the very least, the machinery?”

Bucky's eyes start to dart around the room, taking in the different equipment before muttering to himself in dismay, "these control the cyro chambers..."

The computer laughs menacingly, "Ah, so you do remember. Good! Good..."

Rolling his arm once while taking a large step forward, Bucky brings it down, crushing the computer completely. Exposed wires spark briefly from the powerful impact, otherwise leaving the room in silence.

“What- who was that?”

“Arnim Zola. A scientist for HYDRA. The one who, well…” Bucky passively gestures to himself, “experimented and is responsible for me.”

Suddenly, another one of the numerous screens comes to life- the digitized green face grinning, “tsk, tsk. Oh, Soldat…”

“I won’t answer to that anymore,” Bucky maintained through gritted teeth, raising his arm to disintegrate this talking monitor as well just as it says:

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Just then, you hear quick, trudged steps. The only warning you had before been picked up, as easily as a pillow and aggressively, carelessly thrown aside into a metal desk, knocking some of the computers that sat on top along with you.

You tried gasping for the air that was stolen from your lungs on impact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, it burned, more than the pain creeping around the left side of your ribs as you sluggishly moved to sit on your knees. Looking up, you meet the threatening gaze of the one who attacked you.

He was exceptionally tall, especially from your view on the floor. Lean, but had an athletic build and strong. Super strong. He was dressed in all black tactical gear, the only color being a large red Soviet star in the center of his chest. A black mask covered all but his eyes, keeping him faceless. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in years and had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

But those eyes. They cemented you to the floor- glaring, daring you to move or even breathe. Just the look that he conveyed felt like you were in the presence of death itself. As you were able to take your first small breath, your lips parted, and eyes narrowed as they locked into his deadly gaze. There was such a darkness glazed over the emerald irises, but you'd recognize them anywhere.

"Luke..." you exhale, painfully. Both physically and emotionally.

His brow twitches slightly at you saying his name, like his mind is trying to recollect it from a long-forgotten dream. As his body turns to face you, he suddenly gets shoved back a few feet, "Back off, Castle." Bucky warns sternly, stepping between you and your brother.

Gripping the desk, you use it to hoist yourself up, whining slightly and grabbing at your left side realizing that you most likely have some broken ribs. The sound of your pain distracted Bucky for one second, and Luke took that opportunity to lunge forward and kick him high in the chest. With a breathless grunt, Bucky barrels backwards into you, knocking your back flush against the wall.

Luke was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket. The two of them quickly became a tangle of throwing fists and kicks, breaking apart to find anything around to throw at one another. Overturning desks, throwing chairs, Bucky even chucked a still laughing Zola computer at Luke.

While you never thought the two most important men in your life would ever have the chance to meet, this is not the way you would have ever imagined it.

With your back still flat against the wall, you slide down to sit on the floor, starting to feel dizzy. Maybe it was the overwhelmingness of the situation, but instinctively you bring your hand to the back of your head, and it feels... wet. Looking at your fingers, they're now coated with fresh, warm crimson blood. It's getting harder to think straight with the tunneling vision, but you realize that you hit your head against the wall from the collision of bodies.

"Please..." you choke out a sob, "please, stop," you beg. But they can't hear you over their own heated screams and grunts as they continue to fight one another. Your narrowing vision focuses on Bucky, seeing that he is fighting more defensively- actively trying to avoid hurting Luke, pulling his punches where he can. Tears burn behind your eyes at the sight, knowing that if this were anyone else, it would already be over.

"Luke!" Bucky yells and quickly dodges to the side, avoiding the knife now sticking out of the wall that Luke threw at him. "Your sister came here to get you back! She's here for you. We're here for you!" Bucky maintained his distance, mirroring Luke's movement's trying to rely on his words rather than fists. They're pacing, waiting for the other to make a move.

The ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and as much as you tried to fight it, sweat started to bead up on your skin. You were losing consciousness, and fast.

"Bucky," you breathe out. His body tenses as he looks over at you, eyes wide. He jumps over one of the only remaining desks in the room and kneels down, hands hovering over body briefly, afraid to touch you.

"Okay... okay," he mutters to himself, scanning you over, his eyes linger on your hand with the now drying blood on them. Bucky gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over it as he forces a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Sunshine. I-I'm going to get you outta here and get some help, okay?" His voice sounds shaky as his chest heaves, "Sam? I need a med evac for y/n,"

You nod once, or at least you think you do, as you continue to focus on Bucky. Everything around him starts to fade into a deeper black void. The last thing you see is Luke step into view over Bucky's shoulder to look down at you. At some point during their altercation, his mask had been ripped off. His lips were pressed into a thin line as his teeth clenched and remained expressionless while Bucky continued to stroke your hair and try to speak calm, reassuring words of how he would make sure you would be okay as you slipped under the surface of complete darkness.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr @skulliecadaver-blog

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ffxivtribehydrae · 2 years ago

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Dusk has kept many minions and pets throughout the years and while all have been well loved and cared for, only three have been permanent in his life: his chocobo Dawn, a panda he raised and a white horse he had in the tribe. While one could say these are all his favorites for various reasons, the crown would likely go to his horse.

While the horse wasn't his per se, the whole tribe would make use of their animals, but many considered the two to belong to one another as they were born the same year. Dusk grew up with it and learned almost everything about horses and animals in general through her. It was one of the more painful realities to leave her behind the day he left the tribe, but at that point she was growing old so he could not justify bringing her into the hectic life of an adventurer.

His love for animals and pets were certainly born from his friendship with this horse!

FFXIV Daily Question n°1 : Does your character have or possess a favourite minion/pet ? If so, how did their friendship start ?

#meme #Dusk Hydrae #Dawn is actually the only pet he ever had that he gave a name #and that because had to at one point #otherwise he always calls his pets and minions by what they are #the panda he calls simply Panda #and while his horse had a name in the tribe #he would still just call her for what she is

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marvelstoriesepic · 9 months ago

Text

Last updated: October 31

I’m only writing for Bucky Barnes

Lots of love for my Bucky people! ♡

I do not consent my work to getting republished

My work can include heavy themes (such as sexual assault, abuse, panic attacks, death, toxic behavior, self-doubt etc). Each chapter and fic will have their own warnings, but if anything might trigger you, be cautious!

If you are interested in reading the Bucky fics I loved on this app, check out my list of fic recommendations on my other blog @buckbuckbarnesstuff

˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔ October Writing Challenges 2024 ˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔

WIP Game

♡ - personal fav

❁ - fic with 300+ notes

✯ - fic with 500+ notes

Series 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Breaking Chains (ongoing)

Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: Leaving behind an abusive and possessive boyfriend, and finding refuge in the hometown you once yearned to escape, certainly wasn’t a chapter you anticipated in your life’s story. Yet, eyes as blue as the sky at dusk, belonging to a mysterious biker drew you into a world of unexpected possibilities, where a job at his bar becomes more than just a means of survival - it’s a pathway to freedom and self-discovery. Though, breaking away from your past proves daunting when shackled by invisible chains.

Two-Parts 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

1. Tangled ropes [8.2k]

Sailor!Bucky x reader

Summary: A new sailor arrives at the docks amongst Captain Barton’s crew. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, the way he carries himself, or perhaps it’s the way his eyes are the echo of the ocean in color and depth. But something about him makes you want to untangle the ropes that seem to choke his spirit.

2. Beyond the Horizon (coming soon)

One-shots 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Listen to your gut [2.8k] ❁

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky is assigned on a Hydra mission. Letting him venture back in the lion’s den without backup sets a deep unsettling dread knotting your stomach. Drowning out logic and reason you beg him to stay.

Still on the list [14.1k] ✯

Frat!College!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, the infamous frat guy, known for sleeping around and throwing parties left and right, constantly invites you, out of all people, to all of them. His intentions though remain a mystery to you. Following a troubling event that leaves you shaken and anxious, Bucky is there to pick up the pieces. Stolen glances and exchanged smiles gradually blossom into a connection that goes beyond what meets the eye.

Casual Sweetness [2.3k] ♡ ❁

Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: You seek out your roommate and best friend Bucky for comfort after a girls night out leaves you shaken up.

Two [6.2k] ♡

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Your friends Wanda and Nat drag you to a corn maze event at night. After a rather unpleasant encounter with Bucky, Sam, and Steve, you want nothing but this night to end. Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to find the exit first.

Latte (He)art [7.8k]

Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader

Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.

Ocean’s claim [5.9k]

Lifeguard!Bucky x Amateur!Surfer!Reader

Summary: Seeking a thrill, your friend Natasha convinces you to go surfing during stormy weather conditions - a bad idea as you come to experience.

Pirate Nights and Pumpkin Lights [1.7k]

Modern!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and you take Morgan, Billy, and Tommy trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Drabbles 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Paranoia [1.4k] ❁

Avenger!Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to an unlocked door - his mind convinces him something horrible happened to you

Learn his way [1.5k] ❁

College!Bucky x College!Tutor!Reader

Summary: Bucky is more interested in learning about you than biology

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”

- Edgar Allan Poe

#bucky barnes x reader fluff #soft!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #soft bucky #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #college!reader #college!bucky #masterlist #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #marvel bucky barnes #bucky x female yn #bucky masterlist #Bucky #bucky oneshot

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late-to-the-party-81 · 25 days ago

Text

Blood Lust

N: For my last entry to @buckybarneseventsBuild a Bucky Bingo I’ve picked Vampire AU. I’ve adored this challenge and hope it runs again.

Unbeta’d so please excuse any typos, but big thanks to @christywrites for spitballing with me.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you would like to join my tag list, click here

Master list | BaBB Master list

Summary: Bucky was just trying to find another lost Hydra bunker to destroy it - he never expected to find a fucking Vampire inside it, or receive such a proposition from her.

You didn’t know who the stranger coming into your territory was, but you could tell from his scent he was powerful - maybe he could provide you with what you needed, in more ways than one.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 5k

CW: Vampire AU, alternating POV, blood drinking (what did you expect?), rough sex, multiple orgasms, canon typical violence, destruction of furniture, guns, stranger sex, smidge angst, discussions of murder.

Even if you hadn’t been able to smell him as he drew closer - musky with fresh sweat along with notes of gunsmoke and metal - you’d have known he was there. His blood sang to you. You could feel it, drawing you in. Closer and closer. Full of strength and power. And, you hoped, the answer to your prayers.

You waited in the shadows and as he came into view, moving slowly and stealthily, you watched him with a growing hunger that wasn’t simply a need to feed.

The thing about HYDRA, Bucky thought, was that just when he was sure he’d found all of their old bases and razed them to the ground, he found mention of another one. Now, here he was, deep in the Appalachians, trying to distinguish a HYDRA bunker from those built by random prepper’s . The signs were there, though - marks carved in the rocks and trunks of trees that looked innocuous to most folks, but were clear as day to someone with the appropriate knowledge.

Dusk had started to fall an hour ago, and now it was almost fully dark. The moon had risen, round and heavy looking, but the sky was covered in those large fluffy clouds that constantly moved and only allowed the bright, reflected light to illuminate the path in front of him at random. Luckily, with his enhanced eyesight, Bucky didn’t need to rely on either the inconsistent glow or a flashlight. His steps were sure and steady, barely making a sound.

Eventually, after following a few false paths, he found what he was after. A broad cliff face, cut with vertical crannies, rose up in front of him. Somewhere at the bottom would be the entrance, cunningly hidden. He reached out with his left hand, running the tips of his vibranium fingers over the weather roughened surface for signs of a mechanism. As he did so, he became aware of two things at once. Firstly, he found the switch to release the door with relative ease. However, secondly, he got the distinct feeling he was being watched.

Whipping around, Bucky peered into the darkness, his ears straining for any unusual sounds, but all he could hear were the bugs, rodents and owls. If he were any other person he’d think he was imagining it, but years of training followed by a few years of paranoid hiding had taught him better.

When nothing appeared out of the gloom, Bucky forced himself to turn back to the hidden door and trigger its release. Hopefully he could leave his stalker outside and deal with them later, once he’d completed his mission.

Without further ado, he made his way inside, the door to the bunker closing decisively behind him.

You watched from your perch, your entire body tingling in anticipation, as the man made his way, unknowingly inside your lair. He was confident, you could tell, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop you. His blood would be yours to feast on and you were certain it would make you stronger.

How long had it been since you’d fed from an unwilling source? Others of your kind may prefer it that way, but in the centuries since you’d been turned, you’d barely ever had to resort to those means. Well, you thought ruefully, apart from in those first few months when you’d been unable to control your hunger. That was a long time ago, though, and now you had a good relationship with the folk who lived near-by - your protection in exchange for fresh blood.

However, the appearance of a rogue coven threatened that relationship. They were a group who followed the old ways, killing indiscriminately and revelling in the carnage. Yes, you could move on, establish yourself elsewhere, but you had bound yourself to this community of people over 100 years ago. Their blood literally ran in your veins. Therefore, you would protect them, and if it took the life essence of this one, apparently powerful stranger to do so, then so be it.

Bucky strode down the corridors, trying to shake off the innate feeling of revulsion that always seemed to cling to him whenever he came into one of these places. He knew it was half due to the dank, dark environment and half due to memory. Ghosts stalked these halls, and he was both one of them and not at the same time. It was a strange duality that he was still learning to accept.

The advantage of being one of those ghosts was knowing his way around without much difficulty. While HYDRA liked to make their bunkers as winding and complicated as possible, they always replicated the same design. This therefore made it complex for anyone new, but familiar for any long standing acolytes and he’d been the longest standing of them all.

Winding downwards into the lower levels, towards the central processing area with its banks of computers, Bucky allowed his mind to wander. There was no-one else in here but him. If there were he’d be able to hear their heartbeat or footsteps. He wondered if the person who’d been watching him outside was waiting for him to exit, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

He absent mindedly patted the pocket that held the flash drive for downloading any uncorrupted data still available. He and Nat would sift through it all on his return and delete anything that shouldn’t be let out into the wider world, which was probably most of it to be honest.

He was feeling pretty confident about this whole mission when the attack came without warning. One moment he was walking down yet another dark corridor, his enhanced night vision serving him well, and the next, something - someone - barreled into him from behind. His instincts kicked in, and Bucky tucked his head and rolled, taking the impact with the floor on his right shoulder, before coming up and spinning around, his left arm raised in a block. A high-pitched shriek filled the air and his assailant slammed against his raised arm. It was with a mixture of shock and disbelief that he realised that it was a woman attacking him, but he didn’t have time to analyse what was going on as she punched and scratched at him.

He blocked her moves, but her strength was unexpected and he found himself giving ground underneath her onslaught. A punch to the gut had him reeling and it was with a sickening realisation Bucky decided that he could no longer just be on the defensive. His previous self had never discriminated on the grounds of sex - just ask Nat - and it appeared that was something his new, recovered self would also have to adopt, for this encounter at least.

Using the advantage afforded him by the distance that had opened up between them, Bucky pulled his pistol from its holster on his right hip and aimed at the woman, centre mass. The retort of the gun was loud within the confines of the concrete lined corridor, but not as loud as the woman’s scream. Bucky winced and turned his head to the side in response to the sound, but it was only as she came running at him again that he realised that it wasn’t a scream of pain, but one of rage. It was as though the bullet hole in her body - and he knew it had hit her from both the sound and the spray of blood up the wall behind her - wasn’t causing her a single issue.

“What the fuck?” He raised his arm again, aiming for her skull, but as he pulled the trigger she seemed to blur in front of him, moving a lot closer to him than humanly possible. The bullet struck the wall, embedding itself with a small shower of concrete chips.

Deciding that something was very wrong, Bucky turned. He needed to get away from her and give himself time to come up with a plan. However, he was jerked to a halt by the back of his tac-vest and then slammed face-first into the wall. It crumbled and cracked under the impact and Bucky had a moment of dizziness, before he was spun around and a clawed hand held his jaw in a firm grip. He spat out a mouthful of grit and blood and noticed the way the woman’s nostrils flared as he did so, her gaze becoming momentarily unfocused. It didn’t last long though, and his unease grew as he watched an animalistic grin spread over her face. A grin that displayed the fangs in her mouth.

“Oh,” the woman said in a low purr. “You’re going to be lots of fun…”

You held the man against the wall, your body alive with the thrill of the chase and the scent of his spilt blood. Your primal nature had been awakened for the first time in years and you were ready to let it have free reign. However, you weren’t sure whether you should just feed, or whether you should ‘play with your meal’ first.

Your moment of indecision gave the man an opening, and he grabbed your wrist with his left hand, the one you noticed was made of some kind of metal, and squeezed. You felt the bones break and you let go instinctively. The pain didn’t last though, and you held up your hand in front of you, feeling everything reset within seconds.

“That wasn’t nice,” you spat. He looked back at you in shock and now it was your turn to take advantage. No more Ms Nice Vampire. You took hold of both his hands, flesh and prosthetic, and slammed them both above his head, cracking the wall further. With interest you noticed his eyes dilate, and you hadn’t even attempted to use your glamour yet.That fact tipped the scales further in the direction of playing.

“You can make it up to me though, can’t you?” You crowded into his space, pleased to note that he wasn’t even struggling, although he was far from lax under your hold. Leaning forward you placed your nose close to his throat and inhaled deeply. You shivered at the delicious scent - it was almost completely intoxicating. “You can be good?” You heard his indrawn breath and smiled to yourself. Tilting your head, you carefully scraped your fangs down the skin of his neck, not hard enough to break his skin, but he’d still be able to feel it. Speaking of feeling…. His hips bucked as you teased him and you were nudged by something firm but still somewhat yielding.

A praise kink? A pain kink? Maybe both? This was going to be good.

Using your preternatural speed and strength you pulled him away from the wall and then threw him towards the floor. His head bounced off the hard surface, making his eyes cross, but you immediately settled over his waist, taking hold of his face in both your hands and roughly kissing him. Blood from his split lip trickled into your mouth and you ground down over his erection in pleasure.

You drew back and looked down at him, pleased to note he was so busy trying to work out what was going on, he wasn’t even trying to escape.

“You can’t be real,” he stated. “I shot you.”

“Oh, I promise I absolutely am. And that lead slug did tickle a bit. You’re a good shot, Soldier. However, you need either silver or wood if you want to slow me down.” You flicked out a long fingernail and drew it down his cheek, this time drawing blood. A small bead clung to the tip of your nail and you drew in between your lips. His cock twitched under you, but then he shook his head, as if trying to get out of the stupor he was in, and tried to push himself up.

“Uh-uh,” you chastised, placing your hand on his chest and pressing down. “You’re not going anywhere. You have something I need.”

“You’re not taking anything from me, bitch,” he snarled, and squirmed under your unnaturally strong hold. You ground down again.

“Who said anything about taking? You’re going to give it to me, and say thank you while you do. You know what I am. What I can offer. What’s a little blood in exchange for guaranteed pleasure. I’ll even let you rough me up a bit if you want?” You leaned back down. Closer. More intimate. “I know you want to…” You licked up the cut on his cheek, both of you shuddering as you did. Then, experimentally, you lessened your hold on him.

In an instant, he flipped you, pressing you to the floor with his left hand on your throat. He didn’t attempt to hurt you though, or escape. Just looked down at you, wide-eyed and panting. You had him just where you wanted him.

Bucky’s head was spinning. He’d seen a lot in his time - but this was something else. A fucking vampire. He looked down at her, noticing the way her dark eyes twinkled in amusement. In all of the tussle it hadn’t escaped his notice how attractive she was. If she wasn’t trying to drain him of his blood he might have been interested. At least that’s what he was trying to convince himself of. His dick obviously hadn’t received the memo, because it had perked up from the moment she’d shown that she was as dangerous as him.

Fuck! Was he mad for even contemplating it? She’d already shown it would be incredibly difficult for him to hurt her - at least in any way that would be long lasting - and that was a fact he found incredibly arousing. If he took her up on her offer he’d be able to really let go.

“You don’t want to kill me?”

She laughed and arched up into his hold. “Sweet boy. If I wanted that, I’d have done so already. But if I had, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy each other over and over, would we?”

“What about the people who live here? How many of them have you killed?”

“In the last one hundred and fifty years? None. We have an understanding. Regular, non-lethal tributes in exchange for my protection.”

Bucky furrowed his brow at her words.“Protection from what? What could possibly be worse than you?”

“Many things. You have no idea what evils lurk in the dark.”

Now it was his turn to scoff. “I think you’ll find I do. I used to be one of them. I may be mortal, but I’m not like everyone else.”

She lifted her arms and ran her hands, delicate but deadly, up and down his biceps. “And yet you obviously choose to be a better person. I bet you could take everything you wanted - use your Soldier skills - but you don’t. You compromise. You do what’s right. How does that make you any different from me?”

There was an undeniable truth to her words, as much as Bucky didn’t want there to be. He constantly downplayed his abilities, because he didn’t want his friends to realise what he would truly be capable of if he wanted.

“What are you waiting for?” she continued. “Just think what it would be like, not to have to hold back. To fuck. Hard. To feel the pain mingle with the pleasure.” She smiled up at him, wryly, and he could feel his resolve slipping. Her left hand tightened on his right bicep, sharp fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt - pinpricks of sensation that lit up his nervous system and made his traitorous dick twitch once again in his pants. Her smile morphed back into that tooth-filled grin and she pressed her nails in even harder. “Go on. Let go. Take what you want.”

Her voice was a hypnotic purr, and Bucky could hear his blood thrumming with need. It felt as though he was standing on the edge of a precipice, only needing one small nudge to send him over the edge. She rolled her hips and let out a pleasured sigh and Bucky fell.

It was difficult to suppress your feeling of triumph as his lips crashed against yours. For a few seconds you let him have the upper hand, before you rolled the pair of you back to your original positions. Then, with a laugh, you pulled away from him and rose to your feet. “Catch me if you can, Soldier.” You skipped away at half speed, which was still faster than most humans, and he chased after you, grinning. Every few minutes, you’d allow him to capture you - let him kiss you and touch you - for a few moments before pulling away and starting the dance again. He only hesitated once, when your escape from his grip ended up in your top being ripped. He froze, looking at you with worry, as if you were about to censure him for his roughness. Instead, you threw back your head and laughed with joy, before taking hold of the neckline of his shirt and tugging on it harshly. The ruined material hung from him in tatters, exposing his firm chest and you licked your lips salaciously before running away from him again.

By the time you’d lead him to the room you’d repurposed as your bed chamber, the pair of you were barely clothed. Your Soldier’s chest heaved and was covered in a thin film of sweat, and you couldn’t wait to taste him. All of him.

With a snarl he tackled you to your bed and you went with him gladly, ignoring the ominous creak of the wooden frame. His mouth roved hungrily over yours and his right hand groped at your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple. You mewled against his lips as the pain mixed with the pleasure and you grabbed at his pecs in turn, digging in your talon-like nails until they broke the skin and ten beads of blood appeared in two beautiful arcs across his torso.

He bit down on your clavicle, hard enough to hurt but not enough to break your toughened skin, and you rolled your hips against his hard length. His hand left your breast and snaked down to the remnants of your underwear. As his fingers slid through your sodden folds, you ran your fingers through his hair as he scraped his teeth down your throat, in an echo of your own earlier move. His left hand, as cold as your own skin, skimmed over your body as he made his way lower, biting your flesh without care. He swirled over your clit, before plunging two fingers inside you without preamble, forcing a cry from your throat.

“Yes! YES! Fuck!”

He answered with a growl, before sucking on the skin of your hip. This was what you’d unknowingly been craving and you suspected it was the same for him. Pure inhibition. Carnality.

Moving even lower, he fastened his lips around your aching bud, laving it without mercy and your eyes rolled back in your head as your orgasm crashed into you, like waves against a cliff. He gave no quarter, though, flipping you unceremoniously onto your front and pulling your hips up.

“Do it!” you hissed, and anticipation shuddered through you as he placed that heavy left hand on the back of your neck, pining you to the bed. When he thrust his cock inside you, you both moaned, but there was no time to process the sensation as he set up a vigorous pace, thrusting into your wet cunt so harshly there was no way you could ignore the protests from your bed. But fuck it - this was the best sex you’d had in decades - if it broke, it broke. You relaxed your body, turning pliant under his hands and enjoying the illusion of physical domination as he fucked into you with abandon. You had wondered if your body was still capable of feeling this level of pleasure, but as he continuously hit that spot inside you, you realised it was.

His right hand gripped your hip so hard you knew that if you were still mortal you knew you’d be bruised for days, and the way he had you pinned would have impeded your breathing if that were still an issue. He was using you for his pleasure, but at the same time making sure you got yours too. The only noise you could let out were little ‘uh-uh’s’ in time with his thrusts and the creak of the wood of your bed. When the spasms of ecstasy shook you once more you felt his cock tense inside you and then flood you with a warmth that was almost forgotten.

As you floated back down, there were a few seconds where a feeling of disappointment washed over you that it was over already, but then you realised that he was still hard inside you. He gave a few experimental thrusts, probably checking that you were alright to continue, and you pushed back onto him in a raptured response.

However, he quickly withdrew and when you looked over your shoulder in confusion he pulled you up and off the bed. With a speed that would have taken your breath away, he once again grabbed you by the neck and, with another hand on your ass, he lifted you and slammed you against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and as his mouth met with yours again, he resheathed himself inside you. You gripped his shoulders, drawing blood once again, and the snapping of his hips became harder as you did so.

“Take it!” he growled against your lips. “You wanted this, so you’ll take it all.”

You sucked his lower lip into your mouth and bit it, releasing a sweet, sticky dribble of his blood into your mouth, moaning at the taste. It was ambrosia, and you couldn’t wait to have more, and feel his essence buzzing through your veins.

“How long. Can you. Keep going?” you asked between rough thrusts.

“I got three or four in me,” he replied to your joy.

“Then fill me up again, Soldier. I want to be dripping you.”

His groan was deep and filthy, both of you now attuned to how wet your cunt currently was, your mingled spend already coating your inner thighs and the skin at the base of his cock.

“You have to come again first. Show me how much you want it. Come for me.”

You didn’t need telling twice and leaned your head back against the wall as the sensations washed over you. “Fuuuuuuuck!” He was as good as his word though, reaching his own peak as you clenched around him.

However, as nice as it had been to relinquish control to this man, it was time for you to regain it. You moved your hands so they were flat against the wall behind you and then pushed off. Your Soldier staggered back, with you still held in his arms and his rock solid cock still snug in your cunt, until his legs hit the mattress. He fell back onto it and you smiled from your position atop him, before starting to ride him.

Bucky’s head was spinning. This… There was nothing he could compare it to. This woman - this vampire - was not only taking everything he gave, she was serving it right back to him. He looked up, mesmerised, as she took control from him again, gliding up and down his cock. She looked like some kind of warrior of old. A goddess. Maybe she had been one of those in her previous life? But right here and now, she was the only woman to come close to matching him and it was intoxicating. The earlier cuts she’d made on his chest had healed over already, but she just reopened them with a curl of her hands. The pads of her fingers smeared the drops across his chest before she raised them to her mouth and sucked them clean, all ten, one by one. When she grinned down at him, her teeth were blood-stained and she looked primally beautiful.

“Sit up,” she commanded. “I need to feel you closer. I want to taste you properly.”

He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this, but for some reason he trusted her when she said she didn’t want him dead. He also hoped that if her blood lust took over he’d be able to escape from her before it went too far - although a voice in his head laughed harshly at that. From what had happened so far, he would probably lose, but he was nothing if not a risk taker.

Bucky pushed himself upright and his supernatural lover wound her fingers into his hair and kissed him while gyrating in his lap. He grabbed at her waist, holding her steady and just gave himself over to the onslaught of pleasurable sensations. She tugged on his hair as she plundered his mouth and he could help but jerk his hips up to meet her movements. Thanks to the serum, he could already feel his third orgasm building - that really was one of the unanticipated advantages of it all - and he couldn’t help but chase the pleasure.

It was strange, this frantic coupling. The vampire was cool to the touch under his right hand, but so warm around his cock. It was as though he were heating her from the inside out. And while he was enjoying the way she moved atop him, he really needed to move.

“Please,” he muttered and she seemed to immediately understand. Shifting her weight to the side, she managed to roll the pair of them. Immediately, Bucky’s hips regained their previous pace. He felt untethered - unhinged - in the best possible way. She met him thrust for thrust, rolling her hips and making the most delicious noises.

“Are you ready, Soldier?” she uttered. “I promise it feels like nothing else you’ve experienced?”

He looked down at her, taking in her dark eyes that seemed to drag him down into the abyss. He was helpless not to fall. “Do it,” he replied, an echo of her earlier words, and as he felt her cunt start to flutter around him one more time, she surged up, latching her mouth - her teeth - to his throat.

Bucky knew pain - the man he’d become had been forged in the fire of it. He’d expected this to hurt, but that first bite quickly morphed into something else entirely. It wasn’t pleasure - it was ecstasy - and burned through his veins. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm. There was a roaring sound in his ears along with the heavy th-dump of his heartbeat and the brightness of the world intensified to a white light so brilliant it overtook everything around it, before quickly shrinking to a darkness that pulled him down… down… down… into oblivion.

You lay in the ruins of your bed, your Soldier’s head resting on your chest as you carded your fingers through his hair. You’d have found the destruction of your resting place amusing if it weren’t for the disappointment swirling through you. It wasn’t disappointment at your mortal lover’s performance - that could be described as nothing but spectacular - no, it was the disappointment that his blood has seemed to do nothing to boost your power. You felt no different than after any good feed, the glow of your sated sexual appetite notwithstanding. You’d have to come up with another plan to get rid of those encroaching on your turf. It would be different if you had a clan of your own, had the strength in numbers, but you were on your own.

Beneath your touch he stirred and you turned your attention back to him. You might be a monster, but you weren’t that type of monster. He’d done all you asked, all you’d wanted, and you owed him your care, as limited as it may be. His eyes blinked open, and in the dull light you took in the unique shade of them for the first time.

“Hey,” you whispered as you continued to pet him.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied with a charming smile before looking around. His cheeks pinked adorably as he took in the destruction. “Umm. Sorry about that.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “It’s alright. I was probably due an upgrade. The locals will bring me a new one.” A wave of fear washed over you and you frowned.

The man in your arms frowned back. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t know why - maybe it was because you’d had no-one else to talk to - but you told him everything. All your fears for the people you watched over, how you weren’t enough on your own and how you’d hoped that his blood would give you the edge you needed.

“And this other group is really that much of a threat?”

You sighed. “Two weeks ago they snatched a family out camping. I wasn’t there quick enough to help, other than to put the mother out of her misery and assure her that her children weren’t coming back - hadn’t been turned. I buried them all myself and then sent their pastor out to pray for them - I wouldn’t put it past those fuckers to come back just to desecrate them further. They’re sick, they’re-”

“Bullies?” he interjected.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I happen to have grown up with someone who’s entire life was dedicated to getting rid of bullies. Not only is he still around, his mentality sort of rubbed off on me.” He grinned at you. “And he’s got some pretty powerful friends, too.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’ve got a team - if you want one? Also, although it might be a little overdue, I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” he held out his right hand and you took it in your own, squeezing it a little to see him blush.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. The name I was born with has been lost to time - I’m no longer that person - but you can call me Ailith.”

“Ailith…” You watched as he rolled your name around his mouth. “And are you ready to go to war?”

“Are you ready to have rabid post fight sex?” you countered with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned and leaned towards you. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

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