#avengers resistance

[premamelody]

THE END OF ME

(oc)

[short-wooloo]

Apparently today is the day MLP: Friendship is Magic premiered 14 years ago

Now I never watched the show before I ended up sitting down with my little cousin and doing so, but it's wild to me the longevity of the show, it transcended eras

When MLP: FIM premiered its contemporaries were Star Wars The Clone Wars, Young Justice, Transformers Prime, Regular Show, Adventure Time, Ben 10 Ultimate Alien, Avengers Eearth's Mightiest Heroes, Scooby-Doo Mystery Incorporated, Phineas and Ferb, Batman the Brave and the Bold, etc

And when it ended, it's contemporaries were Amphibia, Gen: Lock, Harley Quinn, Infinity Train, Rick and Morty, Rise of the TMNT, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Star Wars Resistance, Transformers Cyberverse, Ducktales (2017), RWBY, Ninjago, The Amazing World of Gumball, Ben 10 (2016), etc

Not only that, but it also outlived a number of shows that released after it premiered, like Steven Universe, Ben 10 Omniverse, Voltron Legendary Defender, Gravity Falls, TMNT (2012), The Legend of Korra, Transformers Robots in Disguise (2015), Star Wars Rebels, etc some of which being successors/sequels to shows it was originally airing alongside (Star Wars The Clone Wars-Star Wars Rebels, Transformers Prime-Transformers RID2015, Ben 10 Ultimate Alien-Ben 10 Omniverse)

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

lana's unreleased song "resistance" is such a transfem tony song

[joanofexys]

about to get back into fic writing to write the daredevil x avengers crossover of my dreams where there’s genuine rumors abt Matt being the literal devil, no one knows he’s blind which just feeds into it, and both he and Peter get to be badass

[ganymedesclock]

[Wild Hunter & Blaster] [Mechanic & Battlemage]

"I need to play the Blaster" I say, playing both Xenon and Demon Slayer instead

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Resistance IV

A Dystopian AU. Please don’t ask how much there’s gonna be. I’m not sure. But I might add more characters/readers if there’s interest.

Warnings: Violence, torture, blood, gore, dark elements, tags to be added as we progress, tags will not be exhaustive so be wary.

Summary: A part of the underground, you fall into the hands of the authority you seek to derail.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Note: I always love feedback in any form so don’t be shy. Thank you for reading and for all your support. 💗

Inspire by the LEWK.

You wheeze and puff as Bucky drops another fingernail onto the floor. Blood leaks from the barren beds, throbbing and searing in agony. Your hands shake as you're restrained by the thick cuffs attached to the armrests. You grit your teeth and roll your eyes against the hot tears.

"I'm not stupid, Lynx," he snarls as he bends to press his lips to the side of your head, "I know those idiots have moved by now. You don't tell me where they planned on going. You tell me the safehouse. Right now."

"Go... fuck...yourself," you sneer as you rip your head aways from him.

He snorts and twirls the long tweezers in his hand, gripping them in his metal fist. He drives the tip into your naked nailbed, and you shriek. The pain flowers through your tendons and sets fire to your veins. You quake in the chair and let your voice rip from your chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He twists it, "tell me where."

You grunt and let it roll against your teeth. He scoffs and pulls back the sharp point, tossing the tool away from him. He turns and takes another from the tray, a pair of silver scissors. You shiver as he holds them up and refocus, looking past him to the two men on the platform, sitting in their thrones. You won't tell. You can't.

Bucky moves into your sight as he slides the blades up your sleeve. He cuts through the layers to your shoulders and across to the collar. The scissors slice through the fabric noisily. You blow out through your nose and brace yourself. He strips away your clothing, little by little, until you're completely bare and quivering.

He looks down at you, eyes scouring you from head to toe. He expects you to cower. Expects you to dissolve before him. You won't let yourself.

"This doesn't have to go any further," he warns as he presses the scissors to your neck lightly, "I can show mercy."

You lower your head and shake it slowly. He sighs and lets the tip cut into your skin before rescinding it. He drops it to clatter on the tray and signals with his hand. He grabs a clump of your hair and forces your head back as he stretches out his other arm. He's brought as large jug that he hovers over you.

"Tell me now."

You swallow and say nothing. He tuts and angles the pitcher to your nose. He pours it, keeping your head tilted even as your muscles fight to sit up. You choke on the water as it floods your nostrils and throat. You cough and gag and he eases up again.

"Go on."

You spit up a mouthful towards him and he growls. He pours morez a steady stream that suffocates you, frigid water that chills you to the core. You croak and sputter as your writhe against your restraints.

"Come on, doll," he stops again, "I'm listening."

You glare at him, heaving but silent. His nose flares and he starts again. Another flood smothers you until you're dizzy. He empties the jug and watches you.

"Lynx…"

You cough and hack before you catch your breath. "Fuck y–"

He swings the pitcher and smashes it into your face. You feel the crunch in your nose as a split forms in the skin along your cheekbone. You groan and reel as the jug flies across the room and hits the floor loudly, bouncing and rolling to a stop.

"You're a tough little minx," he turns back to the tray and drags his fingertips along the edge.

He clucks and reaches to brush his beard, lingering on the grey patch by his chin. He shrugs and chuckles as he faces you again. He rests his hand on his belt and grasps the handle of the long knife there. His fingers fit perfectly in the grip.

He slides it from the sheath and admires the silver blade, "I find the best way is the old fashioned one."

He holds the knife in front of you, pointing it towards your chest. He trails the edge down your stomach lightly. He's taunting you.

He pushes the blade firm and splits the skin down your thigh, slowly cutting to the knee. You hiss as the blood beads around the incision and stains the silver. Your toes curl and you keep from balling your stripped fingers.

He shifts the direction of the blade, cutting across, then back up. He raises the knife and smirks at it. Then his eyes flick up to meet yours.

"Oh, Lynx, this could've been over," he purrs and puts the knife flat, gliding the edge along the bottom of the incision.

He pushes the skin up and starts to peel. You feel the flesh separate from muscle and cry out. The agony is unlike anything you've ever felt before. It consumes you completely.

Your vision flashes white and the blood courses through your veins like fire. Your voice rises and rises beyond your control. You can't think as the torment crawls up your leg.

"The Ridge!" You exclaim, "The Ridge. Please! I can't–"

The flames recede but cinders still singe at your leg. Your head lolls as you gulp down air, your face wet from the years you could not contain. Your body is not your own, it is at the mercy of the pain, at his mercy.

"What was that?" Bucky steps back, moving to let the other two men get a glimpse. You see how they lean forward, enraptured by the scene.

"The Ridge. That's… the safe house." You begin to sob, overcome not only by the agony but by your own weakness.

You broke. You told him. You told them. You sold out the others. Those you swore your life to.

"You can kill me know," you shudder as you let your head fall back, "please."

Bucky grins and shows you the bloodied blade. He brings it to your throat and you close your eyes. You're ready. There's nothing left. A rat like you deserves to die.

"On second thought," he draws away and his shadow shifts, your eyelids parting to watch him turn around, "gentlemen, do you mind if I play with this one a bit longer?" He snickers and faces you again, "she's too much fun."

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday @elijahwood #elijahwood #actor #frodo #lordoftherings #thefellowshipofthering #thetwotowers #thereturnoftheking #thehobbit #backtothefuture2 #flipper #deepimpact #thefaculty #happyfeet #Bookworm #TheToxicAvenger #StarWars #Resistance #cooties #wilfred #thelastwitchhunter

[tilbageidanmark]

From Too many Christmas trees.

(Via)

[tortinhamuffin111]

Hey, those are some drawnings that i made muself, took a long time.

[404pagenotavailable]

btw im watching the rdj dr doom reveal again. if you even care

[violent138]

*cough cough* Good for you Steve *cough*

[deafblindshorty]

You know, I just realized that if they don't recast Kang and introduce a new villain, Moon Knight has even LESS chance of making an appearance in an Avengers movie or any of the MCU movies going forward. Because MK did not interact or fight with any of the Avengers villains (I think the closest he came was burning down Doom's house or something). Khonshu was an Avengers villain, but that comic was wildly unpopular, so I doubt they'd go in that direction.

Which also means that MK will really be put on a bus. Moon Knight would be the Star Wars Resistance of Marvel (No resolution to some plots, barely referenced anywhere else. Ironically, Oscar Isaac starred in both!). That makes me sad. I'm sad now.

[nobuverse]

"See that? That's my 'I took your ultimate to face and lived' grin, Zeus! EAT IT!"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Resistance III

A Dystopian AU. Please don’t ask how much there’s gonna be. I’m not sure. But I might add more characters/readers if there’s interest.

Warnings: Violence, torture, blood, gore, dark elements, tags to be added as we progress, tags will not be exhaustive so be wary.

Summary: A part of the underground, you fall into the hands of the authority you seek to derail.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Note: I always love feedback in any form so don’t be shy. Thank you for reading and for all your support. 💗

Inspire by the LEWK.

The halls of the compound are sleek and polished. A contrast to the grimy world beyond. Or at least, your world. The nomadic life that sees you sleeping with a rifle in your arms and eating expired cans of whatever you can scrounge up. The extravagant wealth reserved only for those with bartered souls.

Bucky’s hand grips your arm, metal fingers squeezing until the flesh speckles and blood courses. The taste of blood lingers on your tongue as the scent flows through your nose. The echo of his smack aches in your jaw, a tenderness in your sternum from where the beanbag struck. It’s the least of what will come, you know that.

He stops you before a white door trimmed with silver. You stare ahead, it’s all you can do. Let your feet move one after the other, let your chest rise and fall, let instinct guide you through. It’s a strange sense of acceptance. No turning back, you must march on. It’s no different than any other day. It is only the last.

He holds his hand up and the door shifts, sliding into the wall. He shoves you ahead of him. The room is large and airy, the size of a gymnasium. The sparkling floors are barren and a platform sits along the opposite end, three chairs across is, each on similar in height but wrought in a different metal. Bronze, silver, and steel. 

You recognize the room, though it lacks its usual pomp. No velvet, no golden ornaments, but it is the very same throne room captured in the propaganda for the triarch. The three figureheads of the regime would be upon the stage; Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, and the man at your side.

“Ah, they’re late,” he tuts, “don’t worry, minx, we can get ready while we wait.”

He turns and signals to the open door behind him. There’s some activity but you don’t turn to see. The clang of metal jars you from your trance and Bucky forces you into the rigid chair. He bends your arm against the narrow rest and closes the welded cuff around your wrist. You jerk your hand back, a thoughtless reaction amid the futility.

He clasp your other then kneels to secure your ankles in a similar fashion. The seat is designed for this and you have no doubt you’re not the first to sit upon it. You swallow and force your head up, suppressing a shudder. 

He stands and rounds you, standing behind you. He rests his hands on your shoulders, kneading them as he hums.

“This doesn’t have to be difficult, but I did promise a show,” he taunts, “so give me a few screams and it will be over soon enough.”

You scoff through your nose and grit your teeth. You don’t believe him. You know better than to trust these scum. He sees you as just the same and will treat you even worse.

“Stoic, I like it,” he praises, “Lynx,” he bends and hovers his head beside yours, “I heard a lot of stories about you. I even saw you before, do you remember? When you blew up my fucking jeep?”

You let your lips curl and give a tiny chuckle, what little humour you can muster. He grips the back of the chair and pushes himself up, the chair scraping with his violent motion.

“Yeah, real fucking funny,” he steps out from behind you and rubs his hands together as he paces.

There’s some movement, the automatic whir of another unseen door. Footsteps before two figures stride across the platform. The missing thirds of the triarch. Stark, Rogers. They stop before their chairs, silver and bronze respectively. They look at you, then their cohort.

“You don’t recognise our guest?” Bucky stops on his heel.

“Should we?” Stark sneers, “why the fuck did I come all the way here?”

“Tony,” Rogers intones, “come on.”

“Alright, let’s go through the whole routine, Tony, Steve,” Bucky turns and gestures to you, “this is the venerable, infamous, and elusive Lynx.”

Stark and Rogers look at each other then back at you. Almost in unison, they sit. The former with an elbow on the armrest, the latter with shoulders straight and hands flat on his thighs.

“Ah, now I got your attention,” Bucky snickers, “I think you’ll like what I got in store.”

He walks towards you, around you, and a metal rattling follows his steps as he rolls a tray around your left side. There’s a variety of tools and bottles arranged across it. One peek is enough to spark your adrenaline.

“Now, if you take a close look at our little mink,” Bucky stands behind you and holds your chin in his vibranium hand, “you’ll see she’s already taken a bit of… manhandling. But I saved the good stuff for you two. I’m gonna make her sing you a pretty song.”

He snickers and grabs a long tweezer like utensil from the tray. He traipses around your left side and pokes one of the long ends against your fingertip. His other hand keeps your digit straight.

“Where’s the rendezvous?” He asks.

You seal your lips tightly and focus straight ahead. You hold your breath and barely keep from yelping as he stabs the tweezer into your nail bed. You quiver but do not make a sound.

“Tell me where the rendezvous is,” he repeats.

You suck in air through flared nostrils and clench your jaw. He closes the tweezer until it clamps down completely. He rips it back, taking the nails with it. You jolt in the chair and hiss through your teeth. You shake as the pain radiates through your arm, panting out the agony.

“Tell me,” he tosses your nail onto the floor and presses the sharp tweezer into your stripped nail bed, “or I do another.”

“Fuck you!” You spit and he stabs the sharp end down, a scream ripping from your lungs. You quiet yourself and grunt, jerking wildly. You inhale once more and puff, jutting your chin out, “Fuck all of you!”

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday #tobyjones #actor #arnimzola #captainamerica #firstavenger #wintersoldier #AgentCarter #whatif #tinkertailorsoldierspy #thehungergames #themist #harrypotter #TheDarkCrystal #AgeofResistance #JurassicWorld #FallenKingdom #WaywardPines #SnowWhiteandtheHuntsman

[sadpoeticandgay]

ow

you heard me