#might've missed some soldiers

[bellehalla]

Do you think you could describe the appearances of our main soldiers? ( heishi, weald, etc.)

hello love!! omg i hope you're still around

AHH i adore the main soldiers so much! I try not to give too much description when it comes to my characters since I let readers interpret them from their personality and character in the story instead. But there had been some questions regarding their appearances (like Ilya, which @escapismnotfound illustrated!! check out their blog and art!!) so I guess it's time I give some of them some faces. Officially leaving MC as the only faceless one lmaoooo

And oh boy, this is ONE LENGTHY post. I enjoyed writing it <3

Ewald

nation: Mondstadt

height: 5'4

shortest one in the company. idk if you remember but in chapter 1, he had facial hair but had to shave it off around chapter 3 when the program officially started. he's short, stocky, and kinda looks like a human version of a pug. he grew out his black hair which is probably the same length as MC's which reaches their shoulders, but you won't really notice it since he always have it up as well. he has accentuated jowls and his cheeks kinda hang that make him look tough. i referenced him from one of the characters in Mulan, Yao! (same vibe too)

Jurgen

nation: Mondstadt

height: 6'1

the Dad of the group. Jurgen's another Mondstadtian. he's tall, has broad shoulders and beefy arms that make him seem like he gives great hugs (he does). he's soft-faced, and has high cheekbones. every time he smiles his cheeks get so round. also has brown eyes. same haircut as Huffman, but has caramel colored hair.

Heishi

nation: Inazuma

height: 6'4

he already has an impressive height, but his face tops it all. he's slim-faced with prominent cheekbones and straight nose, framed by his midnight blue curls. he's more lean than buff, but he's trying to pack up some muscles. if it weren't for his military uniform, it's easy to see him as another man from a prominent family. his ruggedness is more from his VERY unruly hair.

Ira

nation: Mondstadt

height: 6'0

the clown of the group. Ira's very lanky despite his appetite. he's kinda cute if he knows how to dress and carry himself. with his sharp jawline, tall nose, and short ginger hair, he could really pull the ladies (don't tell him this). but alas his charm is in his crooked smile. take it as it is. he doesn't mean anything bad when he smiles big and wide.

Hiroto

nation: Inazuma

height: 6'5

big and tough, a bit buffer compared to Heishi. long dark hair that reaches the middle of his back. unlike Ewald and Rin, Hiroto likes to let his hair loose, so sometimes the soldiers see it. square jawline and heavy brow ridge that makes him look angry all the time. though fun fact, he's very attentive to his eyebrows and prefers to keep them clean and plucked. there's just so much to know about this guy.

Kita & Kenji

nation: Inazuma

height: 6'2

they're not twins...as far as they know. but they do look so much alike save for their builds. when Kita first appeared (oh and fun fact again, Kita was the one that egged Rin on during their first day when she fought Ewald) he had short grey hair. Kenji convinced him to shave his hair into a buzzcut, so now they're sporting the same haircut. they're quite youthful in their appearance as they have a more rounded face. Kenji's face is sharper compared to Kita. Also, Kenji's upper body is quite bulky, but Kita's trying to catch up (he's almost as thin as Ira, so it might take awhile to bulk up).

Luka

nation: Mondstadt

height: 5'9

does anyone remember this guy? he's not that significant, but i have to balance out the count per nation lmao. he has yellow hair. handsome with his big round eyes, and high cheekbones. though he's more adorable than handsome, really.

[deansbeer]

quick lil thanksgiving SOLDIER BOY drabble 🍁

YAP SESH! there might be a few mistakes from how fast i was typing this while eating lol & some warnings i might've missed. so, do let me know if you see any <3

WARNING(S)! smut | oral sex (f!receiving) | strong language | table sex | pure filth | overstimulation | DOM!BEN | unprotected sex (stay safe out there yall) | ben throwing his F bombs. ୨ৎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.

୨ৎ JENSEN'S LIBRARY.

thanksgiving with ben was quiet, just the way he liked it. no family, no friends, no bullshit—just his girl and a bottle of bourbon on the table. he'd insisted on a small dinner, something simple, and you were happy to oblige. but as you're sitting across from him, laughing softly at one of his sarcastic remarks, you notice the way his gaze lingers on you a little too long, a little too hungry.

"what?" you ask, raising a brow, still mid-bite of your food.

he smirks, leaning back in his chair, his thick arms crossed over his chest. "just thinkin' how fuckin' pretty you look tonight. sittin' there in that little dress like you didn't know what was gonna happen."

you roll your eyes, but your heart skips a beat. "ben, it's thanksgiving. can't we just get through dinner for once without you—"

before you can finish, he's already on his feet, rounding the table. you barely have time to react before he grabs you, his large hands sliding under your thighs to lift you out of your chair.

"jesus christ, ben!" you gasp, laughing breathlessly as he sets you down on the dining table, plates clattering as he pushes them aside without a care.

"what?" he mocks you, his voice low, rough, and full of that cocky charm. "can't help it, doll. you're sittin' there lookin' like dessert." his hands are already sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher and higher until it's bunched around your waist.

"ben, the food—"

"fuck the food." his grip tightens as he yanks your panties down your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. "this is what i'm thankful for."

before you can argue, his mouth is on you, hot and wet as his tongue drags through your folds. you suck in a sharp breath, your hands flying to his hair, tugging at it as he buries his face between your thighs. he groans against you, the vibrations making your toes curl as he sucks on your clit, his beard scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin.

"goddamn," he mutters, pulling back just long enough to look up at you, his lips glistening. "you taste s'fuckin' good, baby."

you whimper, your head falling back as his tongue dives back in, licking and teasing until your legs are shaking around his head. but then he growls, low and frustrated, pulling away abruptly.

"fuck this," he mutters, standing up and fumbling with his belt. "these fuckin' pants—" he tugs them down impatiently, his cock springing free, thick and hard and already leaking.

"ben—" you start, but he's already lining himself up, grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge of the table.

"you got somethin' t'say, sweetheart?" he taunts, his smirk widening as he thrusts into you in one smooth stroke, filling you completely. your gasp turns into a moan, your nails digging into his arms as he sets a bruising pace.

"fuck—you feel so good," he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tight you're sure they'll be bruises tomorrow morning. "been thinkin' about this all fuckin' day. you, laid out like this, takin' me so fuckin' well.”

you're a hot mess beneath him, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room alongside your moans. his thrusts are quick, steady, relentless, leaving you no room to catch your breath as he fucks you hard and deep.

"ben—fuck—too much—" you whimper, trying to push at his hips, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand.

"nah, baby," he growls, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. "you can take it, like the good girl you are. i know you can."

his free hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that send you spiraling. you cry out, your back arching off the table as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clenching around him.

"that's it," he groans, his pace faltering as he chases his own release. "fuckin' love watchin' you fall apart f'me."

he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep as he comes, his groan low and guttural. for a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing as he rests his forehead against yours, his grip on your wrists loosening.

"happy fuckin' thanksgiving, babydoll," he mutters, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he kisses you, slow and full of love for you.

you laugh breathlessly, shaking your head. "you're unbelievable."

"yeah," he smirks, pulling out of you and stepping back, "but you love me."

and as you lay there, still trembling from the intensity of it all, you can't exactly argue with that.

[rainyyynightssss]

Twisted Wonderland

Reacting to you trying to go back home

Characters: Overblotters

Notes: Yandere/Toxic themes involved

"Crowley thinks he might've found a way for me to get back home!"

Riddle Rosehearts

He looks at your smiling face and something in him breaks. He should be happy for you, he really should. This is what you had wanted from the beginning. To see your family and friends. To be free of magic and almost getting killed by overblots.

But you should've been happy here. He'd order his card soldiers to keep the rose garden in prim condition for you to gaze upon whenever you visited. The birthday parties always included a dish you liked. You got along well with Trey and Cater. Sure, Riddle was strict with his rules, but he grew more lenient with you. Surely, you could see that.

"That's wonderful news. And you're...happy to leave?" He tries not to let his voice crack as he grips one of the legs of the table they had just used to share dinner together. Apparently for the last time.

"Of course, I'll be happy to see everyone back home. It is a bittersweet feeling though. I'll miss you all." He chooses to ignore the 'all' part of your phrasing for a moment. You'd miss him and isn't that enough reason not to go?

"We'd all miss you as well....I, especially,-"

"But I think it'll be good for me to go and be back with my family, you know?" You add and he tenses again. He knows well how important family could be, and he also knows how burdensome they are. His mother forced him to adhere to strict guidelines, and while it shaped him into the respected house warden he is today, it also made him afraid. Terrified, even, that everything would go wrong if the rules were not followed.

Perhaps that's what you needed. A healthy dosage of fear and some rules to keep you in line. You were his perfect rose, blooming and unblemished. You had always managed to drag him away when he got too deep in his studies and talked him down when his face became as red as the flowers in his garden. But now your edges have grown frayed. You're trying to go back to your roots but he'd rip you out of the ground, thorns and all, to keep that from happening.

"Right. Well, it's gotten quite late and it wouldn't be proper for you to walk back to Ramshackle this late at night." He sensed your confusion even before you could voice it. You've taken plenty of late-night walks before and this would hardly be on the top list of most dangerous things you've done at the school.

"I can walk back-"

"I insist. I couldn't let you go...to your dorm! This late." Riddle shakes his head and covers his blushing face with a hand as he stands up from the table. "I have a room for you. If you'll take it?" He offers his hand to you, hoping you will miss the small trembles.

You smile at him again and take his hand, sending warmth even through his gloves.

"Just for tonight." You nod. Riddle gives you a small, though tight at the ends. His rose didn't need to know about the details of their stay, only that it was going to last longer than they thought.

"Of course. Although I must make sure you have an adequate stay. Rules indicate that guests should have the most hospitable experience, no matter how long that takes to fulfill." Riddle answers with ease and you see nothing wrong with it. His rose would blossom even more under his careful watch.

Leona Kingscholar

"And?"

The notion of you leaving was laughable to him. You had already managed to barge your way into his life, ruining his plans at the Spelldrive competition, ruining his nap routines, and ruining his pride as a prince. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Though the latter is still mostly kept intact.

You look at him, seemingly flabbergasted by his dismissal.

"And...that means I'll likely be leaving soon." You tell him. He sees your small frown. You must think he doesn't care that you're leaving. But it was quite the opposite. As much as he would never admit it to himself, he cares so much that he denies any possibility of it happening. He knows you don't actually want to leave.

Leona watches you sit up from his bed that both of you had been lying in for the past few hours. He grasps your wrist before it can leave the sheets. His grip is tighter than usual. Leona had always been like that. He demanded respect and expected you to follow. You, of course, were not so willingly submissive to him but that made it all the more fun for him to make you.

"Ruggie isn't going to be back 'till later tonight. I've got more sleep to catch up on. Especially after you bothered me last night." Leona tugs your wrist to bring you back closer to him while he rests his other arm under his head.  Last night you had came to him, clearly anxious about something and didn't want to be alone. Anyone else he would have turned away with a scoff, but he's found over time that he has a hard time refusing you. As long as it didn't involve you trying to run away from him.

"Are you even listening to me?" You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks.

"I have and it sounds like a buncha nonsense. Go back to sleep and maybe you'll forget your dumb ideas in the morning." Leona grumbles and pulls you to his chest. He hears you huff but you don't resist, lying back down beside him. He doesn't know exactly why you're having these kinds of thoughts but it doesn't really matter to him. If you want to run, he is glad to give his precious prey a chase.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's hands freeze in the air, his fork and knife about to cut into the juicy salmon that had been plated beautifully in front of him. He glances up at you, his smile also frozen on his face, as you were just talking about how much you enjoyed Night Raven College and the Mostro Lounge. All until you abruptly switched to this topic he thought he was doing a good job at evading.

"Ah, isn't that...delightful?" His words would have come off as calm to anyone else, but you notice the slight strain in his voice. You always seem to see right through him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Upset me? No, quite the contrary. I think it's wonderful the headmaster has finally secured your passage back home." Azul muses and goes back to cutting his salmon, though it's obvious that his cuts are a bit more jagged.

"Yes... he said it could be any day now." You respond carefully. You try to offer him a smile as you take another sip of the drink he gave you on the house. He could see the small ounce of hope in your eyes of going back to your world. That wouldn't do.

"Is that so?" Azul takes a bite of his food, swallowing before adding, "It's really too bad you won't be able to go then." He continues eating, ignoring your confused eyes as if he didn't just say the strangest thing.

"Why wouldn't I be able to go?" You ask slowly. "I mean, the transportation might be difficult but-"

"It has been a while so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you forgot." Azul sighs and dabs his face free of any smudges with his napkin. "You may not step out of the bounds of Night Raven College by any means, including the Dark Mirror."

"According to who?" You let out a disbelieving laugh.

"According to Article 3 Section 5 of the contract you signed." Azul takes another bite of the salmon, not letting himself react when you slam a hand on the table.

"What contract?! I never signed anything!" You snapped. He remains as calm as ever. This time, you couldn't read him, couldn't even see his eyes through the glint in his glasses.

"You must remember when you agreed to work in the Mostro Lounge for a couple months. I had you sign an employment contract. I warned you about reading it through to the end. A suggestion I don't give to most poor, unfortunate souls in this school." Azul answers.

He did indeed give you the small packet to look through and recommended reading it all. It wasn't his fault that Floyd made a commotion in the kitchen just as you started reading the end portion. Azul urged you to sign it while he dealt with the mess that Floyd undoubtedly caused and you did, just missing the statement that required you to be on-call even after your employment ended, and being on-call meant you always had to be within a certain range of the lounge.

"You can't be serious." You utter quietly with wide eyes, realizing exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm afraid I am. But don't fret too much. I think you'll come to like it here." Azul smiles again. A smile that's hardly recognizable.

He watches you jump up from the table and storm out of the lounge, passing confused customers who glance back at him. He takes a drink from his glass. Azul isn't worried about you walking out. You couldn't leave here, leave him, anyway. And if you tried to hide from him, he would just send Jade and Floyd to hunt you down. You have become one of his prized possessions, and he isn't going to let you go that easily.

Jamil Viper

"Really? It's about time." Jamil comments as he starts chopping the vegetables you prepared in a bowl.

He had invited you to try some new recipes with him that he'd then distribute to the Scarabia students. For the past few months, you had been inviting yourself into their kitchen, much to Jamil's annoyance. You always offered to help him and he always declined, especially when it came to Kalim's meals. He was not going to lose his job over a pretty face. You respected his refusals but you still liked to watch him for some odd reason. Today, he finally decided to let you help him.

He appears to be half paying attention to your words while you're stirring the stew. "Haven't you been waiting a while?"

"I have. Crowley's been pushing off researching but I finally made him go through with it!" You look quite proud of yourself and if Jamil wasn't so irritated, he might have thought it was cute.

He simply hums in response and continues swiping his blade through the onion, each cut sharper than the next. He should be fine with you leaving. People come and go, after all. It would make things easier for him as well. He would stop getting distracted so easily, riddling his fingers with knicks from the blade when his thoughts drifted off to you.

"Kalim also promised to help me pack my stuff. He's eager for me to see my family." He sees you smile absentmindedly as you stir. Jamil's hand clenches tighter on the knife.

"Of course he did." He mutters to himself. Kalim got everything we wanted, didn't he? He got the wins, the praise, the Housewarden title. And now he was going to send you off. Jamil bet he was even encouraging you to go and like always, Jamil would just have to accept it. Only this time, he wouldn't. Jamil never got anything he could have to himself, always having to share with Kalim. You would be the one thing he could keep just for him.

"That reminds me, I needed to ask you something," Jamil says and you look back at him. He takes a step closer to you and leans forward, whispering the name of his unique magic. His lips widen into a smirk as he watches your irises fade to red.

"You'll be staying here, won't you?"

Vil Schoenheit

He raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he works to pluck yours with tweezers.

"Hm? That's not the line, darling," Vil says. In your hands is the large packet of paper that contains Vil's script for his upcoming film. He had asked you to practice lines with him. You agreed and in exchange, you asked him to put some makeup on you. It was something he's been wanting to do anyway so he obliged. All was going well until you dropped this bombshell on him.

"I know, I was trying to figure out how to tell you and I accidentally just blurted it out," You sigh.

"Mhm. And Crowley has- Close your eyes, now - provided a way for you to get back home safely?" Vil asks as he moves on to your eyes, brushing an eye shadow across your lids that matches your skin.

"I don't know if anything about that man is safe, per say, but he did seem pretty confident about this." You respond as you keep your eyes closed for him. Vil shakes his head with a small 'tut'. The headmaster didn't exactly have a track record for reliability. He voiced exactly this to you.

"Crowley may just end up sending you on a one-way ride to nowhere. There's no telling where he could send you, why not wait for a few trial runs?" He places a hand under your chin. "And besides, why do you need to go home so badly?" Vil puts the palette back down and takes a tube of lipstick in his hand.

"Well, I want to see my fam-" You're forced to stop talking until he finishes applying the lipstick, "I want to see my family and finish everything I had going on there."

"If that's the case, I don't see what you could do back home that you're unable to here. And if you want to see your family, shouldn't you make sure your travel is safe so you can get back to them in the first place?" Vil questions as he wipes the small smudge of lipstick from the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

"That's...true." You nod reluctantly. Vil smirks a bit as he moves his hand towards the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your head up so you can look at him properly.

"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, you've built quite the life here, haven't you?" He watches you slowly nod and he soothes the back of your neck with gentle fingers.

"You really want to throw that all away?" Vil looks down at you with questioning eyes even though he already knows the answer. You shake your head.

"No...but I also know that's something I'll have to do if I want to go home." You tell him firmly. Vil lets out a sigh and turns away from you for a moment.

"If you say so, but at least let me leave you with a parting gift." He turns back towards you and presents a small perfume bottle with a fancy font across the lid that you can hardly. It would no doubt cost hundreds in the market.

"My own creation that I've been working on. You're the first to have it." Vil says as he hands it over. You take it with a bright smile.

"Thank you! I'll try it on as soon as I get back to Ramshackle." You respond excitedly as you move to stand up from his makeup chair but he places a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I'd like to hear your critique as soon as possible. You are my perfect model, after all." He says with a glint in his eyes. You didn't seem to have any problem with that and sprayed a few spritz of the perfume on yourself, promptly passing out in the chair. You would get it through your head eventually that you belong here. You just need a little more convincing.

Idia Shroud

"Hold up, what?"

Your sudden words caused him to press the wrong button and his character gets brutally killed by one of the forest monsters in the game. You wince and put down your controller, turning towards him on his remarkably soft couch.

"Yeah...sorry to tell you so late but it looks like it could be soon." You say and Idia tosses his controller to the side, facing you as well.

"So you're gonna go? Just like that?" He asks in shock. You only recently just started playing video games with him in his room. Before, you had to practically beg him just to play a game with you when you were both in different dorms. It took a lot of convincing but he soon gave in after some persuasion from his brother. Once, you showed up to his room to see if you could play in person and he stared at you with wide eyes for about five seconds before slamming the door in your face, apologizing later over text.

He was unbearably anxious around you at first but he got used to the idea that you wouldn't judge him so easily. So he showed you another side, his more competitive and ill-mannered side to see if that would make you go away. And you still didn't. You instead embraced him for it. So why now were you just going to forget about all that?

"I-I mean I have to," You were clearly caught off guard by the intense look in his eyes, "I have a home and a family and friends-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure but what about everything you have here?" Idia insists.

"Everything I have here?" You ask.

"Y-Yeah, those first years, Grim, your dorm, me- many other things!" He stammers out. It would be way too cringe to mention himself deep down he hopes he's one of the things that could keep you here.

"Of course I'll miss everyone, but I miss everyone back home too," You say. Idia sighs deeply as he throws his head back on the couch.

"You're reallly set on this, huh?" Idia asks. You bite your lip and nod.

"But I still-" You try to add but he cuts you off.

"No, I get it. I wouldn't wanna be around me either." Idia sighs again. You look at him with wide eyes and fervently shake your head.

"No, it's not like-"

"You must have better friends back home if you're so desperate to see them again." He adds as he looks away with a frown. You don't notice him peeking back at you. You sigh and tilt your head so you can fully meet his gaze.

"Look, I'll talk to Crowley, see if he can push it back a bit." You tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure you if-"

"No, it's okay. I want to spend more time with you and everyone anyway." You give him a small smile and he smiles back. He could play the pity card all day if it meant you'd stay.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus pauses in his steps, looking at you with a wide, curious gaze.

"You're leaving?" He utters. The two of you had been enjoying your nightly walks together back to Ramshackle. After one too many fights and attacks happening after hours on campus, he thought it best to escort you back home. He could easily teleport you both back to your dorm, but it gave him a good excuse to be around you more.

"Yes, hopefully it'll be soon. I'm excited to go back!" You smile enthusiastically and Malleus can only offer a grimace back.

"I suppose you could say I'm a little surprised. I thought you were happy here. Did I assume wrong?" He asks as he continues walking you to your dorm. Normally you would have never been able to keep up with his pace but he always kept a slower one for you.

"Oh no, I am happy here. My friends have been wonderful and I'm glad I'm friends with you. There's just some things I could do without." You mention offhandedly as you gaze up at the moon. He looks down to see it reflected in your eyes. The moon is wondrous but all he can see are the eyes that pinned a man who could never yield so deeply. You managed to befriend a dragon who is intimidating in every manner. That kind of connection isn't so flimsy that it could be dismissed by thoughts of departure.

"Things such as what?" Malleus perks up at the idea of solving one of your problems. As powerful as he is, there are a number of things he can't help you with. He couldn't do anything about your assignment getting deleted after your internet 'crashed' or about the friendship problems you once had with the Heartslabyul boys, but he's always eager to listen, just as you always do with him.

"It's just some rowdy guys from Savanaclaw who are still mad about the Spelldrive competition. They've been bothering me a bit but it's not a big deal." You tell him and he stops the both of you this time with a hand on your shoulder.

"Bothering you? For how long?" Malleus didn't mean to turn his hard glare on you but he couldn't help the fury building up inside of him. Many of the students already noticed your looming shadow that often followed you around like a lost puppy, which was usually enough to keep them from trying anything. Malleus isn't naive enough to believe that students at this school are always on their best behavior when he has his own business to deal with in the Diasomnia dorm. However, he swiftly and discretely took care of any nuisances that he happened to notice. He didn't think you were keeping anything from him.

"Like I said, it's not-" You try to soothe him but his glare only hardens.

"For how long?" Malleus repeats and he doesn't plan to a third time.

"For about a month now...but I can handle it myself!" You insist but he ignores the latter half of your sentence as his face morphs back into a gentler one.

"So that's what's been burdening you? I wish you'd have told me sooner but it's no matter. I'll take care of it." Malleus assures you.

"I mean that's one thing, but I have other reasons-" He cuts you off with a pat on your head as the two of you stop in front of Ramshackle's doors.

"You don't have to ruminate on it any longer. Do try to tell me about any other troublesome students in the future. I'll handle them and anyone else who tries to ruin your happiness here at Night Raven College." He vanishes in a flurry of lights before you can say a word. Any serious notion of you leaving is unthinkable to him, and if you do come up with more reasons, he'll make sure to take care of those as well.

[nervouseden]

God Among Men.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: After a stressful mission, your super soldier boyfriend needs you... This is literal trash. I apologize.

Warnings: SMUT. Brief mention of religious stuff. Worshipping. Misuse of religious terms. Collar and leash (it's really only mentioned like once or twice). Gender neutral reader. Blowjob. Face fucking. Finger sucking. Bucky Barnes (he's a warning). Metal arm (kink). A tad bit of hair pulling. Rough blowjob. Reader isn't the best at communicating. Praise. Some brief degradation. Voice kink (because who couldn't love that sweet baritone?). Brief mention of Shuri and Wakanda. Sir kink. Tears. Choking (from bj). Deep throating. Dom Bucky. Sub reader. Bucky's kinda rough. But also super sweet and concerned. Use of safe signal(?) like a safe word but nonverbal. Brief after care. Loosely Implied fingering/penetration afterwards. Like zero plot. Porn without Plot/Plot? What plot? Mildly dubious consent (not really, but I just want to be safe with my warnings!)

Please comment if you think I missed anything!

A/N: This is like my second or third time writing actual smut, please give me grace— Also I had this idea while sleep deprived and I'm currently stuck in artists/writers block so it's probably not my best work. But, I tried. This was written on my phone and not proofread, so I do apologize for any and all mistakes/typos.

A/N #2: I have absolutely nothing against any religions or religious people, and this is not meant to offend or target anybody in any way, shape, or form!

I do not own any characters mentioned in this story or the gif.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+!!! MINORS AND PEARL CLUTCHERS PLEASE DNI!!!

You were never a very religious person, having loose beliefs that you didn't necessarily align with anything specific, and you were fine with that, but that all changed one day, and in the way you least expected it. The day you first hooked up with Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, or, as you knew him, Bucky, your best friend. You swear that night you might've been to Heaven, or Valhalla, or maybe even reached Nirvana, but whatever it was, it was caused by the super soldier Avenger fucking you into oblivion, with a godly body and otherworldly skills. Not only does he look like some mythical god, but he has the skills and the strength of one too. A god among men.

Bucky is a complicated man; He doesn't talk much, but once you get him going, he could talk to you for hours. He is tall and broad, dark and brooding, with a glare that could kill, but also sweet and soft, caring and considerate, with a smile that makes you weak in the knees... So, when your relationship evolved into something sexual, it wasn't a surprise when his prowess matched his godly looks. His quick wit matched by his skilled tongue. Strong hands matched with his (surprisingly) nimble fingers. He's also a kinky mother fucker.

Today, after Bucky got back from a rough, week long mission, apparently most of the team getting their asses kicked, you found yourself on your knees in front of him, naked, wearing nothing back a black leather collar and a silver chainlink leash, your head resting on his lap as he gently pets your cheek with his flesh hand.

"Doll," Bucky's voice is low, lower than usual, and it sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, shocking your core.

"Yes, sir?" Your voice is soft, quiet, and shaky, a mix of nervousness, arousal, and hours of teasing from this man, this god, making you weak, your voice a minute version of it's usual sound, making Bucky chuckle.

You look up at him through heavy eyelids, your eyes raking up his body hungrily; He's wearing black sweatpants, no shirt, and you're not entirely sure about boxers. His long hair is tousled, the dark locks resting on his broad shoulders, the otherworldly muscles rippling under his skin covered in scars, his normally bright blue eyes darkened to an almost eerie tungsten blue. He's a literal god. The epitome of divinity.

"You've been so good~" Bucky practically purrs, and you already feel your abdomen tightening. "But not good enough."

Well shit.

You're definitely not getting what you want tonight.

"Talk to me, Kätzchen. Tell me what you're thinkin' about." You hesitate, but you know better than to directly disobey.

"I..." You look down, biting your lip. "I was thinking about you... H-How beautiful you are, James..."

Bucky smirks. This wasn't what he was expecting. "Oh?"

You simply nod. "Do elaborate, Kätzchen." Bucky quirks a brow, and you fight the urge to squirm in embarrassment.

"Y-You..." You sigh, deciding to bite the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? He laughs at you and uses it against you? That'd suck... but it would be a lot worse if you didn't speak. Those are always back. You don't want another spanking...and definitely not the crop. Yeah, no, that'd be bad. Better spit it out.

"You're fuckin' beautiful..." You practically whimper, and Bucky smirks.

"I know you've got more than that, sweetness." Bucky teases, and you know he's right. He's always right... It's unfair. How can a man possibly be so attractive and smart? You're starting to think he might actually be a higher power. "C'mon, doll, don't make me hit it outta ya."

Shit. That's a threat. "You're... You're a god among men, Sir... Divinity in itself... Crafted from the finest of marbles known to man... I want to submit everything I have to you."

Bucky simply smirks.

Uh oh.

"Is that so, Kätzchen?" You swallow hard, nodding, watching his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that could burn you to the ground. Yup. Definitely a god.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I... You are my god, James..." Oops. Normally Bucky doesn't take kindly to being called his name during scenes, but for some reason, he just smirks and lets it slide. That's different.

"I want my body to be your altar, your temple, your church... I am your devotee..." You whisper softly, your voice shaky and almost nervous, scared, although you're unsure what you're scared of.

"Darling..." Bucky growls, his pupils dilated so much you can barely see the ring of blue, his vibranium hand clenching on lap, his breathing picking up, that beautiful, chiseled chest rising and falling faster by the second, sweat starting to bead on his skin... You did that?

"You have such pretty lips, yet such nasty words..."

Bucky's Vibranium hand moves to the back of your neck suddenly, grabbing you by the nape of it, pushing your face into his clothed crotch, allowing you to feel the feverish heat, the wet spot on his sweats, and the rock that is his cock. "I'm not gonna last long if you keep sayin' shit like that, doll."

You whimper. Loudly. Pathetically. Lewdly. What the fuck else are you supposed to do? You just mentally brought THE Sargeant James Barnes to his knees from just a few sentences, you don't know whether to be terrified or proud... But, either way, you're not given much time to decipher how you feel, as Bucky starts to rub the side of your cheek against his strained length, the rough cotton of his sweatpants irritating your sweat shined cheeks.

"You're gonna be a good little devotee. You're gonna listen, you're gonna do as told, and you're gonna take what I give you, like a good cock slut."

Bucky's voice is a deep, dangerous growl, the sound rumbling through his chest, rolling down his abdomen and vibrating through him and into you, shooting electricity through your body, your nerves immediately on fire, your thighs quaking, your mind reeling into the abyss of lust.

"Aren't you, Kätzchen?" Bucky says with a groan, looking at you expectantly, a dark smirk on his face.

"Y-Yes, Sir... I will... I'll b-be good..." You whimper out, look up at him with doe eyes, fighting the urge to look down as he slides his sweatpants to his ankles, tossing them aside.

Bucky gently cups your chin with his vibranium hand, the dark metal shining in the dimly lit room as he puts his thumb against your lips, grinning at the feeling. "Open."

You immediately do as told, parting your lips, slowly swirling your warm tongue around his thumb as he slides the cool metal into your mouth, causing Bucky to groan sorry... It's moments like these when Bucky is most grateful to Shuri for creating touch sensors in the arm, allowing him to feel everything you do to his Vibranium arm... Wakandan technology truly is incredible.

"That's a good little whore..." Bucky groans as he uses his thumb in your mouth to tilt your head down, your eyes widening as they meet the sight of Bucky's cock.

Huh. He wasn't wearing any boxers.

"Let this be your first sacrament, devotee." Bucky chuckled.

Long. Impressive. Intimidating. Yet another reason you're starting to think he might actually be a god. No matter how many times you see it, swallow it, and take it, it's always just as intimidating as the first time. His cock is tall, curving slightly as it goes up, getting redder until it gets to the almost purple tip, your hand barely able to wrap around the girth, one large vein going from the shaft to the tip, where creamy pre-cum is beading. You might as well be salivating...and shaking in fear.

"C'mon, doll, I know you can take it." Bucky purred, wrapping his vibranium hand in your hair, guiding your face to rub against his length. It's almost humiliating. But it's also beyond arousing.

"Yes, sir." You mutter softly, licking your lips, raising your head when Bucky loosens his grip on your hair. You spit on the head of Bucky's cock, causing it to twitch where it stands, before gently wrapping your mouth around the tip, your tongue swirling around the tip, teasing the slit, causing Bucky to groan.

"Your god is losing patience, Kätzchen." Bucky growls, before tightening his vibranium hand in your hair, violently pushing your head down his cock, his length forcefully sliding down your velvety throat, only stopping when your nose is flush with his pelvic bone, groaning as he revels in the feeling, hissing as his head falls back in pleasure. "Shiiiit— So warm, Kätzchen...like fuckin' silk, doll..."

To nobody's surprise, you choke, choke hard, coughing around Bucky's member, who simply enjoys the way your throat constricts when you do so. Tears quickly form, as you try to focus on relaxing your throat and taking deep breaths in through your nose, but are quickly cut off as Bucky pulls your hair back, sliding your mouth off his length before pushing your head back down.

"Fuckin' perfect... gorgeous little devotee..." Bucky groans, starting to roll his hips as he continues to roughly guide your head up and down his cock, face fucking you as you cry and choke. Yup. You definitely fucked up calling him James.

Bucky had been tense since he texted you from the Quinjet, so when he starts to throb in your mouth rather than usual, you're not necessarily surprised, that mission really took a toll on him. You hollow your cheeks, and start gently scraping your teeth against Bucky's length as he continues to thrust into your face, his balls slapping against your chin with every snap of his strong hips.

"That's it, Kätzchen, worship me, your fuckin' god-"

Fuck, you were dizzy.

Your eyes start to roll back, head feeling fuzzy, your body seeming heavier, the restricted intake of oxygen starting to get to you, as more tears fall, but being the absolute bitch you are for Bucky, you're determined to make him cum before taking a breather.

"C'mon, babydoll, I'm so close... Lemme cum in your pretty little mouth... Let me desecrate the perfect altar that is you..." He groans, his hips snapping harder, shuddering at your teeth scraping his skin, only to be soothed by your hollowed cheeks and hot throat.

Your vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges, but you still didn't communicate your need to breathe... Instead, you move your hands up to cup his heavy balls, massaging them roughly as you suck harder at his length.

That was all it took.

"Fuck!"

Bucky growls, the sound dark and primal, sending jolts of pleasure to your deprived body, his flesh hand joining his vibranium one in your hair, holding you uncomfortably flush to his skin as his cock throbs, pulsing rapidly as rope after rope of hot cum spills down your throat, your hands still massaging his balls as they empty into you, your muscles working overtime to swallow it all... Since being with him, you found that super soldiers have loads like damn fire hydrants. Not that you're complaining. Usually.

"Baby... Ughhh—" You had expected Bucky to pull you off his cock once he finished, but he didn't, instead he held you flat to his pelvis, basking in the feeling of your hot, velvet throat surrounding him, groaning and growling in pleasure.

You couldn't do it. Your vision was completely blurred, tears still falling, your feelings like concrete, sweat pouring down you, your mind fogged like shower glass. You take your right hand, tapping your index, middle, and ring finger on his thigh three consecutive times.

He immediately pulls your head off his length, pulling you up to his lap as you cough and suck in heavy breaths.

"Doll? Doll, are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Bucky asks hurriedly, his vibranium hand holding you close to him and rubbing your back, while his flesh hand gently holds your face. "Darling, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

It takes you a few moments to process his words, as they sounded more like mumbles from underwater at first. But, as your vision cleared, your tears stopped, the fogginess left your mind, and your breathing started regulating, you finally registered his words and nodded yes. "Y-Yeah... I- I'm fine..." You murmur with a raspy voice, your throat scratchy from the rough blowjob.

Bucky sighed in relief, brushing away your tears with his flesh hand, peppering kisses on your face. "Alright..." He didn't sound too convinced, worried he hurt you, but decided to focus on cleaning you up and caring for you.

He grabbed the pack of baby wipes from the table next to the chair you two are on, taking one out, gently wiping your flushed face clean of the saliva, sweat, cum, and tears. He then opened a bottle of water, gently holding it to your lips. "Have some water, baby." He murmurs as he helps you take small sips, putting it down after about ¼ of the bottle is gone.

"There you go, Kätzchen...You did so good, I'm so damn proud of you, love." Bucky praised softly, pulling you closer to his chest and rocking side to side gently.

"Th-Thank you..." You murmur quietly, your voice still a little raspy, as you tuck your head in Bucky's neck, your sweat covered bodies moulding together, as Bucky's flesh hand slowly creeps down to your sex. "Time for your reward."

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Abby confessing her love for you

You knew you were goner the first time you laid eyes on Abby Anderson. She was tough, guarded, emotionless, and serious about completing the task. Whatever it was Isaac put her charge of no matter the objective that was always her main focus. Despite her tough exterior and her knack for pushing people away whenever they tried to befriend her. Almost like it was her secret superpower or something.

You managed to worm your way into her heart with the resilience of a bear trying to protect its cubs, and the patience of a scorpion waiting for its poison to spread before moving in for the kill on its prey. If someone asked Abby how you were the one who got through to her first.

She didn't have an honest answer for them herself for she never understood how you did what you did. All she knew was once she let you in. There was no getting rid of you even if she wanted to. Abby found herself relying on someone else to keep her. Other than the need for revenge going for the first time since her dad's death. She'd do anything for you. There was nothing in the world you couldn't ask her to do that wouldn't be an automatic yes.

Unless of course you asked to be honest about her feelings for you. Because the second the two of you returned from scouting the outpost. You cornered her in the locker rooms knowing she would be in there to take a nice long, and hot shower. It was pretty late so no one else was present. You figured that would make it slightly easier to coax the truth out of her. Instead Abby gave you the run around insisting that yes while you were an important person in her life, and she indeed love you (like a friend) making sure to put an extra emphasis on the word friend. She wasn't harboring any feelings for you, or anyone else.

Abby then went on to make some stupid joke about her last relationship, and just how incompatible she was with anyone. You weren't buying it for one second, but nonetheless you still let it go. Knowing better than anyone if you pushed her too hard she'd shut down for a while.

But apparently that one push was enough because the next day Isaac asked you to report to him. He proceeded to tell you that for the next month or so. He was reassigning you to strictly supply runs only, and if you weren't need there. You were to report for dog duty every morning which included in helping training the dogs, cleaning up their kennels, and grooming them. No more field missions for you with reason being you showed reckless behavior on your last mission. That could've resulted in the death of either you, or you and your team.

"You got potential to be one of my best soldiers in the future y/n. I'll be damned if I lose you in the field because you want to be a show-off playing hero." Isaac scolded you with a grunt placing Abby's mission report on his desk.

Arguing with him wasn't going to change a thing. You might've been with the WLF longer, but Abby had way more experience in the field. Her history with the Fireflies and dedication to training moved her up the ranks faster than any other solider. She hardly ever went on a mission where she actually had to answer to someone else. So whatever she told Isaac was final.

The role change took place nearly two weeks ago, and you still hadn't adjusted in the change of pace. Plus the lack of action not to mention despite how pissed off you were with her. You missed Abby Anderson terribly. The two of you only saw each other in passing, and each time Abby avoided eye contact. Right now the supply run you were on took you a few miles away from main base. Abby had just returned from a pretty nasty confrontation with the Scars, and was resting up in the infirmary. You wouldn't be surprised if she had something to do with you being sent on a four-day run.

"Ahhh I don't see how these guys do this all day." You complained pushing the door to the lobby of the abandoned hotel open with your back. The room covered from top to bottom with containers filled with any items that were preserved and still of good use. With a grunt you heaved the large box in your arms up to stack it on top of more boxes. The pile held up not swaying the slightest bit.

You let out a sigh of relief leaning back on a heavier and stronger stack of containers. The person in charge would've made you clean it up alone if it fell. "This is literally the definition of grunt work."

"Wow its good to know how you really feel about us, and our contribution to the WLF's survival." A familiar voice chimed in only a few feet away.

You let out a surprise yelp looking up to see Nora positioned right in front of you. Her arms crossed over her chest, a single eyebrow quirked upward with a playful smile on her face. "How long have you been there?"

"Considering I'm in charge of taking inventory all day. What's in the box you brought in?" She asked her tone becoming a bit more strict for the moment.

"A bunch random clothes" You told her unsure of why it was important.

"They actually go over there." She pointed to the far left side of the lobby chuckling. At the way you groaned pushing off the containers. "Calm down I'll have some of the guys move it later."

You relaxed again shooting her a fake angry smile.

"So what did you do to get on Isaac's bad side. The only time he puts field operatives on supply runs is when we're navigating dangerous territory. And the only time he turns you guys into suppliers is when he wants to punish you." Isaac knew the change in pace of the work drew field operatives crazy.

"Its more like what I did to piss off Abby." You said unable to hide the irritation in your voice.

Nora's eyes widened a bit at your answer before her face scrunched up in confusion. "But you and Abby are like this" she stated holding up a hand with one finger crossed over the other.

"Yeah we were until I tried to make confess her feelings for me" You told her with a shrug. If Abby was going to lie about it why should you keep it a secret.

"Oh no you gotta start from the beginning girl" Nora demanded shaking her head. Not giving you a chance to protest she hoisted herself up onto a container adjacent to you.

You chuckled at her eagerness to hear some gossip, but knew nothing more exciting was going to happen. So you would indulge in it this once even though it was never your thing. Plus Nora and Abby were close enough the girl was in the inner circle. No easy feat to accomplish with Abby.

"We went on a scouting mission a few weeks ago, and got ambushed by a herd of infected. Abby got cornered and ran out of bullets, so I came to her rescue doing something that was kinda stupid." You admitted a bit guilty knowing Abby wasn't completely lying about the reckless behavior thing. "But it worked and I saved her life only I guess she thought I died in the process. Abby started freaking out and when after I reassured her I was fine. She went on to say I couldn't do stuff like because she cared about me too much, and stopped short of dropping the "L" word."

Nora held onto every single word that left your mouth following the story with genuine interest. When you to the end immediately she shook her head hoping down from her seat. "Nope we can't have this I'm going to help you get your girl."

Your eyes lit up with curiosity. "How?

"Oh don't worry I'll think of something" she replied already rubbing her chin.

You still wanted more insight which led to your next question. "Why?"

Nora turned back around and walked over to rest both of her hands on either of your shoulders. "Because you're my girl and Abby is my girl I want both of you to be happy. Plus I've been rooting for y'all since day one when the two of you met."

"And" you pressed her further sensing an ulterior motive.

"I got a running bet with Owen, Manny, and Mel about when the two of you are going to finally get together." she finally admitted with a sheepish smile. "Don't be mad."

I'm not but Mel." You laughed a little bit thrown back by the timid doctor being in on it.

"I betted it would be sooner than later, but Mel thought the opposite while Owen and Manny opted for it being never."

You wanted to disappointed in Owen but with the way Abby reacted to everything that happened. It made sense and Manny was her roommate, so he probably did have some type of insight on her unknown to you.

"So what do you get if you win? Money isn't exactly worth anything."

Nora just gave you a quick wink and motioned for you to follow her.

Three Days Later

Isaac didn't have any more assignments for suppliers, and your assistance with the dogs wasn't required. So you readied yourself to enjoy a rare free day or two, but a solider came banging on your door the morning. After you had just returned from your supply run with Nora to let you know the man wanted to see you in his office.

You dragged yourself out of bed with a sleepy groan cursing the entire world. What could Isaac possibly want now? He literally told you last night today was yours. A five minute shower and ten minutes spent going through your closest trying to determine what to wear, and a quick stop to the mess hall for breakfast. You finally arrived at his door giving it a gentle knock.

"Its y/n"

"Come in" replied his gruff voice.

You opened the door to the sight of Isaac sitting behind his desk with his hands folded together in resting atop it. Abby sat in chair on the right side with both of knees maintaining a steady bouncing pace. The second your foot stepped into the office she launched to her feet. Already red in the face jabbing a anger finger at you.

"What is she doing here?"

"Sit back down Abby" Isaac commanded rather than answer her question.

"But-" she started to protest until he fixed her with his steely gaze, and she finally listened. Plopping back down into the chair propping her elbow up on the arm, and placing her chin in her awaiting hand. Abby grumbled complaints under her breath while you took the chair beside her holding back an amused smile.

"Owen and Manny are both out of commission for the next few days, and you need a partner for your scouting mission today." Isaac said laying both of his hands flat on the desk.

"Are they okay?" You asked a bit concerned.

He nodded. "Mel said it was some type of stomach bug possibly caused by. A bad batch of fish from last night's dinner, but we're keeping them in a restricted area to be sure."

Your mind wandered back to your conservation with Nora just a day ago, and you knew without a doubt this was her doing. You fought off the urge to grin again.

"I don't need a partner Isaac I can handle this by myself." Abby argued throwing you a side glance trying to hide the guilt in them.

"After what happened on your last mission I won't risk it. The infected could be anywhere in this point, and you never know when a horde is going to show up. Plus those Scars are getting more bolder with each attack. Y/N compliments your skillset nicely, and has enough experience."

"But she's reckless-"

"And I trust you to maintain control over this mission, and put her in place if the need arises. Are you telling me you can't handle it?" Isaac narrowed his eyes at Abby almost daring her to continue questioning his decision.

"No sir I can handle it" Abby answered dropping her head with a look of despair.

The scouting mission was a simple one. Located about three miles from the main WLF base was a small cabin near a set of watchtowers. A group of soldiers stumbled upon it on they're way back, but didn't feel comfortable scoping it out. They were injured, malnourished, and sleep deprived after spending days hiding out in Scar infested territory trying not to be discovered.

It was close enough to base Isaac was sure none of the Scars were stupid enough to get this close. And if there were a few hanging out about you and Abby were more than capable of taking them out. He did order to bring one back for interrogation if the two of you found any.

The cabin was located in wooded area where the trees grew too great heights, and the bushes were dense. Abby walked ahead of you hacking any blocking vegetation away with her machete. She did it in such an aggressive way you were pretty sure this was her stress reliever. Anything would do rather than actually getting it off her chest through conservation. You followed behind her maintaining a comfortable distance. It went like this a solid hour or so into the trail before finally you couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Are you going to ignore me the whole time Abby?" You asked her.

"That depends what do you want to talk about?" she shot back not even bothering to pause to look back at you.

"I don't know how about the fact you lied to Isaac and got me put on supply duty."

Now she stopped whirling around to face you her face shrouded in disbelief at your words. "I didn't lie your actions were reckless on that mission." She raised the machete pointing at you, but then realized it and slid into the waistband of her pants.

"Yeah but that's not why you reported me is it? You accused closing the distance between you two.

"Why else would I report you y/n?"

If she was going to continue to play dumb then you were happy to bring up the elephant in the room again. "To get me away from you for a few days, so you could bury those feelings so deep inside of you again. You'd forget they were ever even there."

A red tint coated her cheeks as her eyes averted the contact from yours now. Instead she turned her gaze to the ground below swallowing a lump in her throat. "We should keep moving."

Not bothering to wait for your reply Abby turned back around and continued on the path to the cabin. You let out a sigh of exasperation running a hand down your face. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy to make her confess. You were going to play the danger card again.

The opportunity to do it without putting your life in any real danger presented itself. A whole hour later after the two of you finished hiking your way through all the deep bush. The trail cleared up a bit more till eventually one of the watchtowers came into view, and the closer you two got to it. The more realized getting to the cabin wasn't going to be easy as the group made it out to be.

The sound of rushing water filled the air when you and Abby got within ten feet of the tower. And the source of noise revealed itself once you reached the tower to it sitting on the edge of a ravine. Abby extended her arm out in front you. When both of you reached the edge of the grassy terrain that led down into a wide and deep ditch. That was filled up with water probably from the few storms to hit the area in the past few days.

You leaned over to try and determine just how deep it went wondering. If it was possible to walk across, but the bottom wasn't visible. The current was too strong to just outright risk it, and you didn't see a bridge or anything that could be used as one.

"We gotta find another way across" Abby said coming to the same conclusion. "Let's keep following the path farther down maybe the water level gets lower." She pulled out the map to look over for a possible better destination, so caught up with it. Abby missed the way your eyes lit with mischief when you looked upward. The two watchtowers were connected to one other by a decent size beam.

By the time Abby finished going over the map you were taking your first step onto the beam.

"Alright there actually might be a road..." Her voice trailed off when she discovered you were no longer beside or in front of her.

"Y/N" she called out your name her head swiveling in every direction in frantic search for you. Had the Scars managed to ambush and nab you with her so close? The thought terrified her so much she was five seconds away from working herself into hyperventilating just like last time. "Y/N" Abby cried out desperately again.

"Up here Abbs calm down" you shouted from your position standing on top of the beam. About thirty feet up in the air balancing on the metal surface with ease.

She followed the sound of your voice, and sighed with relief at the sight you. Bracing a hand to her chest she calmed her panicked breathing. It took a minute to get it back to normal then she glared up at you. "What the hell are you doing up there? Come down now."

"No we can cross this way" You argued with a tiny smirk.

"Y/N I'm not playing with you get down from there" Abby ordered again. Her voice more firm this time but you saw how nervous she was getting.

"But this is so much faster than walking like another three miles for a road that might destroyed. Plus that's farther than Isaac wanted us to go." You pointed out.

"I don't care I'm in charge and I said no. Now. Get. Down. Here." Abby pointed at you then the ground on her last two words.

"Fine I'll come down" You agreed. "But first I want to hear you say it." You added it as she relaxed again.

Your request made her quirked an eyebrow. "Say what?"

You shook your head. "No more games Abby finish what you were going to say to me. On our last mission before you stopped yourself I won't come down till you do."

Abby grabbed two fistfuls of her hair holding back a frustrated scream. It was a miracle she didn't unravel the braid. "Oh for crying out loud y/n let it go. I wasn't going to say anything besides what I actually said." Now please get down here before you fall and drown or something." Abby pleaded with wide and desperate eyes.

You dropped into a crouch swaying a bit but righting yourself immediately. A small cry exited Abby's mouths as she followed your every move in fear. "What would you do if I fell in? Would you try to save me?" You asked her softly.

"I'd do anything for you" she whispered so low you barely heard her. "Because we're friends and that's what friends do for each other." It was half a lie, and both of you knew it. You were too close to give up now. So you added more pressure by standing upright and turning to walk further away to the middle of the beam. "I thought it was because I was one of the best."

"You are y/n but you're my friend too. I'm sorry for the way I've been acting for the past couple of weeks. Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm sorry okay."

Close but not close enough.

"What exactly am I the best at Abby?"

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What?" she replied.

"You said I was one of the best but at what. It can't be fighting because that title goes to you easily. I mean not even our toughest guys can take you in a sparring match." You brought up your hand placing one finger down. "I know its not sharpshooting I mean I got I'm one hell of a shot, but so is Owen." Another finger brought down as you focused you on Abby again.

She dropped her head staring at the ground with her fists clenched at her sides. Her entire body was trembling with anger, or maybe the overwhelming emotion she kept trying to suppress.

"I guess it could be tracking I am really good at that" You said pausing.

"You're the best tracker we got, and I know that for a fact I'd be dead. If it wasn't for your tracking skills back when we got trapped in that cave during the blizzard." Abby said loud enough for you to hear her.

The memory came back to you in an instant. Almost two years ago the two of you had to seek refuge in a random cave while patrolling the area of a nearby hotel. The suppliers were searching it top to bottom for any resources. Back then the harsh winters had depleted many of your medical supplies, and other items. The area had an infected problem, so a small team of soldiers went along for protection.

You and Abby ended up wandering a little too far while following a stray runner to a small nest. No more than ten of them which was easy enough as long as you used stealth rather than bullets. Then the storm picked up making it all but imposing to find the way back. You were a survivalist before joining up with the WLF. Your father raised you in the wilderness teaching you every skill you would need to conquer it. When the world fell apart you were a little more than ready, and you put all that knowledge to use in an effort to keep yourself and Abby alive.

"I never seen someone fight so hard to live in a world that's just easier to die in." Abby went on looking up at you now. "It wouldn't have been fast but better than being tuned right? I was ready to accept defeat but you were there going out in storm risking your life for mine. Each time returning with food, or wood for the fire. You built a wooden door to keep out some of the cold, and no matter how bad things got during those five days. You never lost hope, or that cheerful attitude of yours."

The fear in her eyes dissolved to be replaced with adoration and the look warmed your entire body. "You never run out of it you know. It doesn't matter how bleak the situation is. And before I met you y/n I lost all that after my dad died. I lost all hope for a better world I didn't believe there was a single thing worth fighting for anymore. Owen was the only reason I kept going, but we fell apart so it wasn't the same. Then you made me see again just how beautiful the world can be. Because if my love for you isn't the most beautiful feeling I don't know what is. There I said it I fucking love you alright, and my biggest fear in this world is losing the person I love the most again. So please come down."

The speech that led to her confession caught you off guard hitting you like a ton of bricks. Her words tugged on all your heartstrings till they came loose, and tears of happiness clouded your vision. "Damn it Abby I love you would've done just fine." You said with a teary chuckle wiping your eyes on your shirt. One of your feet lost its footing and you stumbled before finding the beam again.

"Y/N come on" Abby shouted holding out her arms as if she could catch you. If you did indeed fall from that angle. "I want kiss you so hurry up alright."

The statement made you perk up a bit as the mischief came back sparkling in your eyes. "I don't know you made me work for that confession. You should have to work for our first kiss."

Her expression darkened but she smirked daring you to try her. "Y/N don't do this."

You smirked back while walking across the rest of the beam holding her eyes for the entire duration. She watched you disappear into the other tower in amusement and slight annoyance. Not wasting another second Abby bounded to the tower and climbed the ladder as fast as she could. Slowing down at the beam to take a deep breath, and doing her best not to look down. She took the first step placing one foot in front of another. Till she reached the other end your playful laughter filling her ears as you slid down the ladder. After making sure she made it across without falling, and you hit the ground running straight for the cabin.

Abby went down the ladder halfway before taking a huge leap. She didn't bother stopping to right herself giving chase almost immediately. Even with your head she started catching up to you in just a matter of seconds.

"Abby I get the bonus points for helping you face your fear right." You called out pushing your legs to go faster.

"Not a chance" Abby yelled back matching your pace.

Her arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you were yanked backwards off your feet. You let out a shriek of laughter when her fingers dug into your sides. "Abbs no" You laughed trying to break free of her grip.

Abby secured your back to her chest with a single muscular arm while her other hand continued to wreck havoc. She tickled you into you were breathless and in tears, and before you had recover. Abby turned you around in arms and pressed her lips to yours. Any breath you managed to get back into your lungs vanished again. As your eyes closed and your body melted in her arms. Lucky for you Abby kept you upright with her arms constricted around your middle.

You had dreamed of this moment more than a hundred times. Each time wondering if the real thing would live up to your fantasy. Of course the real Abby surpassed all expectations, and your questions of rather or not she knew how to kiss went out the window. Her lips moved slowly against yours in such a way. It was like she was guiding on exactly what to do, and you followed her lead eventually your hands found their place in her hair. You tugged her a bit closer and she moaned into your mouth pulling away for a fraction of a second. Before deepening the kiss swinging your body around to push you up against a tree.

The bark bit into your skin but the only thing you could focus on right then was. How your body lit up with a want no a need for Abby. It wasn't enough your toes were curling from the passion she kissed you with. You shoved against her shoulder, and Abby pulled away immediately eyes filled with concern. "Did I hurt you?"

"No but the cabin."

She scoffed. "We got plenty of time."

You flicked her forehead causing her to yelp in pain and pull back again. "What?" she whimpered eyes zeroing in on your swollen lips.

"I bet its a lot more comfortable in there way more appropriate for making out" You told her.

"That would be inappropriate behavior" Abby started nuzzling your neck. Her lips drifted to your ear "good thing I'm in charge huh." You squealed in surprise as she lifted you in arms bridal style, and began to carry you to the cabin.

Where the two of you would stay for a few more days, and long nights. Consequences be damned this time.

[tyrianludaship]

It's always fascinating to compare Sniper's relationship with his parents in the 'Meet the Sniper' short with the comics. Personally, it's because of how it evolves from a brief mention to a sincerely satisfying character arc.

"I'll be honest with you. My parents do not care for it [it is him being a mercenary]."

In the short, it shows that either one or both of his parents disapprove of his decision to be a mercenary. Which no doubt, would cause strain in any relationship; regardless of the closeness. It doesn't particularly mean they're distant, however, as we see Sniper talking to his dad on the phone. (though it is shown via an argument).

I can argue that this was a subtle display that they both still cared about him enough to not completely cut him out of their lives, despite the understandable reason if they were to. I've seen some that suggest his parents might've disapproved of his mercenary work because they fear having to attend their son's funeral. Regardless of the reason, they kept contact with him, but their dynamic was strained.

Of course due to the short amount of time, this point was skimmed through and was fairly quick in pace. His complicated family issues were established and for a very long time, this was not explored until in 2014 with "Blood in the Water".

Sniper's specific arc in the comics revolves around wanting to find his birth parents after his adoptive parents passed away, or in his words; his "real parents."

Even in just the establishing scene with his birth parents, it already showed them mainly caring about themselves over the baby Sniper. And him ending up in the rocket that gave him safety was completely unintentional, as the two were bickering over who should use it.

By contrast, we see Mr. and Mrs. Mundy going to the crashed rocket and later implying to raise Mick as their own.

Throughout what we see of his birth parents, they're shown to be bumbling and drunken respectively; with neither really caring about each other. Let alone Sniper. Firstly in Bill-Bel's case, where he asks for money right after showing the rocket that ultimately saved Sniper's life.

And then in Lar-Nah's case, where she took the rocket to escape and abandoned both Bill-Bel and Sniper to potentially die as a result (excluding soldier and miss pauling).

Their presence doesn't have to be constant to infer that both of these characters are self-absorbed; only caring about oneself, anyone else be damned.

Despite the consistent displays of disrespect from both parents, Sniper still very much cares about them. Where he's completely willing to put his own life in jeopardy in order to get his dad to safety.

And to have that care be thrown in Sniper's face.

But despite even that, Sniper held hope and kept his expectation that he may potentially care in some capacity. He just wanted anything; any shred of assurance that his "real" parents cared about him. Something to call 'home' after his adoptive parents passed. Something to make this search for his ""real"" parents feel worth it.

You can see the genuine happiness on his face when under the impression that his dad came back; to save him. Only for it to dim when...

This part is not directly stated but after having his trust be disregarded multiple times by his ""real"" parents, he concluded one important thing: His adoptive parents are his real parents. He was their real son. He was a Mundy.

On top of that, it shows that his parents seem to develop as well. The disapproval, the arguing in the 'Meet the Sniper' short; is nowhere to be seen here. What we see are two parents that genuinely want the best for their son, even calling him a 'professional' and focusing on him staying alive rather than staying in heaven with them.

These were the exact words that Sniper needed to hear. There is no debate: Mr. and Mrs. Mundy are his parents.

I think his arc of finding his "real" parents already stood on its own but with the additional context that his relationship with his adoptive parents were tumultuous at best, it made the emotional impact of both, stronger in hindsight.

[thesummerestsolstice]

Unwritten Fics game

I was tagged by @runawaymun to talk about all my as-of-yet unwritten fic ideas! I have many, many of them. Here are a few. Feel free to send me asks about any of them, or to tell me which ones you'd most like to read in the tags!

Earendil-drinks-the-Silmail-AU: see Tumblr post here. Elwing gives Earendil the Silmaril's light to try and heal him from an illness, and both he (and later E&E) now have the light of the Silmaril within them. This causes problems for the Oath of Feanor. Can't decide whether to make it serious and heartbreaking or extremely silly.

Immortal Elros AU: definitely need to post about this one. In which Elros sees the mortals who will become the people of Numenor, loves them, and decides the best way to help them is to be immortal, to protect their descendants and maintain their legacy long after they're gone. He becomes Numenor's beloved guardian, caring for it's people for centuries. This all goes pretty well until Tar-Mairon shows up on the island.

Faustian Bargain AU: when both Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor are captured during Eregion's fall, Elrond makes a dangerous deal with Sauron to get them back. In exchange for their release, Elrond offers to become Sauron's captive, and to help him in his efforts to reach the Void and free Morgoth. Elrond, of course, has other plans. So do the now-free (and incredibly worried) Gil Galad and Celebrimbor.

Unexpected Problems: see Tumblr posts here and here. All about the issues Elrond runs into in Valinor– from people debating about whether or not he counts as an Ainur to Noldor being scandalized that he only wears a couple pounds of jewelry. Also his repeated attempts to stop Galadriel and Bilbo from completely destroying Valinorian society.

The Love of a Parent: Elrond's parents continue to look out for him, whether from beyond the circles of the world or from the stars above. Probably largely outsider POV. A chance for more eldritchry.

On Estel: In which Earendil goes into the void, searching for Maeglin's lost spirit. Slight AU in the sense that it's very Maeglin sympathetic, and has him having a good familial relationship with Turgon, Idril, and Earendil.

Ten Little Soldier Boys: my take on who Finrod's faithful ten were, why they were so loyal, and the moments they each decided they would give anything to keep Finrod safe. OC heavy but very dear to my heart.

Misfits, Outcasts, and other Characters of Ill-Repute: a series of oneshots about the various people who end up in Rivendell and how they got there. Includes canon characters (Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir, etc.) and some OCs (including an old Feanorian diehard and one of Thingol's bodyguards, and, of course, Garthaglir the Library Orc)

No pressure, but I'm going to second Runawaymun's tagging of @jaz-the-bard (I don't think they've done the game yet but I might've missed it on their blog)

[icarustypicalfall]

Right now

drabble, describing cod men in one word.

warnings: fluff, slight angst, not fully proofread bcz m tired:(

note: tysm for all your sweet wishes, ilysm. this one for you. i know i wasn't here much. srry about that.

masterpost • ao3 •

<3

Simon Ghost Riley

tired.

he is tired. Ghost, a mere void, a lost soul trying to find it's purpose again. despite the flame and the determination, he still holds a deep gush from the past nothing can ease. Nonetheless, he doesn't let it affect him. Everyday, he shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding to rethink them all one day.

He thought that day won't come till he met you. It would take some time, the healing path is long. Might as well hold his hand tightly.

Gaz

underrated.

He is never enough. No matter how much he puts in the work, there is always a tid missing. It consumes his sanity and leaves him countless nights hopeless. The dark circles he earned are from late workout sessions, long training outside the field. He thought he'd end up being the best, he was left to nothing.

You picked him up, dusted off his clothes and shared with him a cup of tea. He didn't say much, though his silence was louder than any words. He was grateful.

John Price

old?

It didn't affect him much, people's words were nothing to him, yet he wished he met you when he was younger. He knows he isn't exactly old. But he isn't young neither.

This absurdity left him in a foolish state. Sometimes, he'd even push you away, before crawling again in your arms. Whispering apologies mixed with meloncholy. You hugged him tightly, promising to be there till the end.

Soap

Peaceful.

He might've be unserious sometimes, but at heart, he has a dream. He reminded himself of that purpose consistently, trying his best to fullfil his desire for peace. How funny, a soldier wishing for peace? He thought about it for years, slowly realizing it was impossible for him.

You proved to him peace isn't about your surroundings, but about your heart.

He never felt more seren than after he slid that ring in your finger, in front of all his friends and family.

Alejandro Vargas

Passionate.

He loves, and when he does, he commits; Holly, utterly, with his very being. But, it hurts when he puts his trust in the wrong person. He was hurt, bruised, betrayed countless times. The scars on his body and the wounds in his heart a proof to the pain he held all those years.

It was until he met you, he realized what love is. The colonel fell to his knees, shedding tears of unspoken woe he held. You were there to ease his pain.

Rudy Parra

Quiet.

He is silence, a peaceful madness, an angry ocean, a loud thunder striking. He never lets his anger blind him. He was silent, collected, counting every step he takes. Silence was sometimes too loud. Sometimes, he wished he could vanish, dissaper in a beat and never come back. When his time comes, he wishes to be buried in your smile, where he can find eternal peace.

Phillip Graves

Vulnerable.

He never knew how to be, he thought being a commander means he should be collected, stoic. He buried his feelings, fears and doubts inside. Letting them accumulate till it overflew, leaving him in disaster. He shattered after a failed mission. And, for the first time, he let you pick up the pieces, putting him together like a broken vase. You looked upon his baby blues, letting peace wash over him.

[iceandironbars]

WinterBones Snippets #1

Sad WinterBones for sad trasheads, short lil ficlets diving deep into the can of worms that is Bucky Barnes' brain ✨

Some days he misses the Commander so much, death is calling his name, whispering it in his head like relief, crawling out of the darkest parts of his brain.

People call him all types of things. War hero. Sergeant. An honorable veteran. A staring machine. A friend even. None of those things feel like him.

The brain that is left, the one that might've taken too many shocks, too much electricity, too much brainwashing and all that is left is the ruins, the forgotten and decayed city that is left of what was once James Barnes.

He rejects it violently and neither Sam, nor his therapist or the wakandans ever even caught a glimpse. Because how could they? They all assume that's what he wants to be, even if right now he does not see himself as any of it.

What they don't know, what haunts him every night, is the Commander' touch on his clammy neck, his rough voice in his ear, sharp tang of blood and sweat and sex, his own screams and moans echoing in his skull and a deep emptiness aching inside of him.

The dreams never stop.

The longing never stops.

Longing.

Ironic isn't it, he thinks with a bitter smile.

He would give anything to be able to be his Commander's Soldier again. To go back to the ease and the clarity and the pain. The painful lust that turns into floating bliss and soft whispers, his reward for being good.

He will never get a reward again. He will never be able to please anyone again, because no one uses him anymore, like he was meant to. His purpose is gone. And so is the man that gave it to him.

The dread and panic spills out of him violently when he heaves over the toilet in the middle of the night.

The Commander is dead. He will not come back for him. He will never be able to be himself again.

It's a life sentence. A sentence he is not sure he can endure, not knowing how long it will be, because he is not human, not anymore. He is what they made him and he is out of time, out of place, out of control.

He fears it will take forever.

And his nights feel endless as he sits with the painful longing, cold sweat on his body, as the ghost of his Commander's voice joins his scrambled thoughts.

Memories.

He sobs.

He doesn't stop until the sun comes up.

★ Tag list ★

If you wanna be added to the tag list for future writings, leave a comment 🖤

@winternightsstar

@sukaibg

[mqnill]

I'm gonna rank all the enemies of Ultrakill cuz I'm bored.

Btw I am a noob and played only on harmless

Filth - 10/10

Nice goobers, basically walking french fries. I can never get mad at them, because how could I be mad at my best healers in this game? They are really cute and are pretty nice. I give them big hug after they take a bite of me! :3 (One punch them for fuel because damn that mouth might've as well ate me as a whole)

Stray -8/10

A bit annoying, considering they get to stand and shoot fireballs at me and move their asses from time to time. Luckily, they're too slow and suck at aiming unless I stand in one place. Great fuel and quite noticeable throughout the game (Until 7 layer, these babies are so similar looking to these fuck ass mannequins)

Schism - 6/10

Strays but upgrade I guess. Too much attitude backed up with unnecessary annyoing ability to live after charged blue shot. Hard to swallow pill. Although they have a noticeable for some reason butt. Idk why but okay?

Soldier - 5/10

That fucking bird that I hate. Would be a nice food, if it wouldn't kick me across the country. Ew.

Stalker - 7/10

Literally don't care about this.

Sisyphean Inssurectionist - 8/10

A tad bit irritating creature, always pushing me on the hot burning sand but it is fun to jump around. Reminded me of an old game on my playground where you stand on edges of sandbox and in the middle of it there is a "Shark" (kid that lost in rock, paper, scissors). This creature is a shark and well, no wonder it lost. I would too if I would only pick rock! Lol loser

Ferryman - 7/10

He was lightning, before the thunder. Confusing bone martial art master that goes up on some building, trying to strike me down with lightning. The dissaperance trick was fun, until I jumped out in the water, thinking he was hiding from me there. I died. Not cool killing me like that, dude. Be fair. Play nice.

Malicious Face - 8/10

Again, this flying fuck pisses me off, but it's a great healing thingy that needs only 100 nails (usually) to fall dead. Although, it is a shame it has to spit in me with fire. Nasty. I'm not into that kind of thing.

Cerberus - 5/10

I'm pretty sure Cerberus is a dog with three heads from Greek myhtology, so no idea why this overgrown football player has that name. This NFL fanatic throws his stupid ball at me and takis his big boy steps to get me, but I'm faster, this is when he stomps angrily instead of communicating his issues with me. Smartest man-looking creature that enjoys any games with ball. Fun to disrespect, not fun when he throws me away like he'd throw a deodorant if someone would offer him that.

Hideous Mass - 8/10

Perhaps hideous, but gives great piggy rides. Nice lobster, but I don't like seafood. Nothing more.

Idol - 5/10

Doesn't even hurt me, but god did you really have to put my food in zipper plastic bags so I couldn't eat them? (Puts some protection spell on other enemies, most often Virtue) Low blow.

Mannequin - 0/10

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!! FUCK AHHGHGHHGHGGH I HOPE YOU AND ALL YOUR SPECIES DIE OUT LIKE A PATHETIC COCKROACH IMMITATORS YOU ARE!!!!! Scary, creepy, hard, fast? That is supposed to me. I am the war machine that sends horror in souls and their non-existent hearts. You fucking fucks, stayed out till 7th layer to make my life difficult. I better not see your asses anymore!!!! You all will be executed on the spot. I hope you know that you are an unwanted creatures, a poor imitation of anything and you deserve nothing but to rot behind closed doors, posed in worst yoga posses you can imagine. DIE!!!!

Swordsmachine - 10/10

It may be hard to beat, but idc. I love it. So pretty, so beautiful, so fashionate. Oh wow. I missedyou, sweetheart, missed this robot from the 1st layer, been thinking about their glorious attacks and cute rushing to hit me with their arm. Had to pause a game because they were just so... so... mwah.

Drone - 7/10

One eyed poor Shockwave parody. Go boom and kill all your brothers around you, loser. Doesn't even heal and explodes.

Streetcleaner - 9/10

Just one point away because they set me on fire and that's not really nice. But overall great bots, really sweet and they sound soooo cuteee. WAHHHHHH I WANNA KISS AND HUG THEM SO BAD!!! They deserve a big hug you people!!! (Swordsmachine got some competition)

Mindflayer - 7,5/10

Pesky cyan plastic-metal woman. Okay, you teleport, okay, you shoot blue faces that haunt me until they hit the wall (why would you inspirate mannequins like that), we got it. But dying with exploding yourself after I hit you twice with taser? A bit dramatic. Somehow slay, and somehow go fuck yourself, no need to be such a hard target, just stay still, will you?

Sentry - 5/10

I don't like them, but I don't hate them.

Gutterman - 2/10

Fat ass metal discord mod harassing my innocent poor soul. Kicks me across the galaxy, doesn't heal, have a stupid shield (okay cap america enjoyer) but it won't protect you from me. I will still fry these assholes with my taser. Womp womp, die faster.

Guttertank 0/10

Annoying stupid fucking huge discord mod's brother that got mad. CRY ME A RIVER (full of blood so I could use it as a fuel) AND DIE!!!

Virtue - 9/10

Nice healing thingy that explodes, thanks man, but stop trying to destroy me with holy light. It's not difficult to dodge, I'm just lazy and would prefer if I didn't have to do much with beating common enemies.

V2 - 10/10

I love this guy. So silly. So goofy. Hard to fight because that's a literal copycat of me, but hey!!! They're fun and that is all that matters (get coin in the face goofball). Got me a good arm to deal with Discord mods and another good arm to swing around like Spiderman.. But I miss the guy, they died because of me and it's so sad that I won't see them again 💔

The Corpse of King Minos - 10/10

Dapped up this guy so hard he died and healed my scoliosis. Hope he heals his brainworms wizards with fireballs that popped out of his eyes. I don't want that much eye contact buddy.

Gabriel - 10/10

Aside of his obvious attractiveness, a really fun guy!! I beat his ass, he got fired by upper angels and was supposed to die in 24hr unless he kills me (deadline is for real DEADline here), we fight again, I win, he has a moment of realisation, goes and kills his epmloyers, all upper angels, that stupid Council and then shows the beheaded to the public. Awesome. THE GOAT (greatest of them all) fr fr. We love you Gabriel

Leviathan - 5/10

I don't like sea food, I don't like baby faces. But fight wasn't that hard.

Minotaur - 3/10

Why the hell is he chasing me on my train?! Go touch some grass or smth idk

1000-THR Defense System - 7/10

Fun, easy, but confusing. Yet not exciting.

1000-THR Earthmover - 1/10

It was sickening and depressing to fight this Evangelion boss. So many parkour, stupid pests, scary heights I had to go through, no, jump through. But the last cry of this metal creature? Healed me better than anything.

Flesh Prison ?-10

has goofy ahh loking mouth (im not feeding you) no pic doesnt deserve it

Minos Prime - 3/10

Not gonna fight this guy cuz I no no wanna. Besides, this isn't transformers, you are not a prime, you look like a long lost father of The Spot from spiderverse, unserious and unneeded use of "thy" (ok medieval grandpa), bet you are no fun.

Flesh Panopticon - 0/10

what are you. why are you.

SIsyphus Prime - 4/10

Agai, this is not transphormers, but he has a fun voiceline so I'll allow his existence I guess

[logansgaar]

the more I'm thinking about this "Bucky Barnes is a mutant who just happened to have a mutation that kinda looked like the super soldier serum's affects" AU the more it makes plausible sense with everything we know about mutants across the marvel cinematic omg

Dormant mutant genetics can be triggered by one of two things: extreme torturous circumstances or exposure to an Infinity Stone (evidence: this is how Wade Wilson and Wanda Maximoff respectively had their x genes triggered.) Pick your poison, Bucky was exposed to both of these things around the same time. He was literally forced to build weapons made from the Tesseract's energy like all the other POWs were, Bucky had extensive exposure to Tesseract radiation (also something Shuri canonically confirms). Bucky was also undergoing extreme conditions being worked to death, he had pneumonia before any of Zola's experiments even began and was on deaths door... how did a man who was practically dead already survive the intensely traumatic experience of having the serum when many men had died on Zola's table before him? Even before Bucky makes it onto Zola's table, a guard beats him nearly to death, breaking his ribs, because he's not strong enough to work anymore due to his pneumonia.

Why did Zola pick Bucky? Out of all the able-bodied men available, after a string of previous stronger men, Zola picked the one who was basically already dead? He risked exposure to a guy with an infectious disease no less who'd just been brutally beaten within an inch of his life with a fucking empty bomb shell thing?, to the point warring inmates teamed up to murder the guard in front of the whole camp, damn the consequences? Gabe Jones didn't think Bucky was going to make it another day and yet he survives without medical treatment, in awful dirty cold damp conditions in the cell, and even less food due to the group punishment for the guard's death for an indeterminate length of time before somehow ending up in Zola's lab.

Unless Bucky was already displaying unusual phenomenon. He was suffering with extreme exhaustion, pneumonia, broken ribs, deep contusions, likely the beginnings of body wasting through the disease and lack of food...his survival is shocking, I think anyone would be shocked to see a man with all that going on getting up and just continuing to live for who knows how long, Zola actively working on replicating the serum might've taken an interest because of this.

What were the Soviet soldiers doing all the way out there where they picked up Bucky? Why did they pick him up? Someone smarter than me also deduced that Bucky likely got himself out and walked some distance before the Soviets found him. Zola hadn't had time to get any messages out as far as we know and his deal with the Colonel didn't start until after Bucky was "gone". Unless the Soviets saw some real freaky shit going on with this random American soldier missing an arm, potentially the same thing Zola saw in the prison camp, and thought hmm we're not sure we want to give him back to the Americans who already have their super soldier (proto cold war with super soldiers instead of nukes...)

From what we know so far, none of the serums currently in use come from Bucky's blood. They come from the multiple different attempts to replicate Steve's serum. The CIA developed a lot of them and Isaiah Bradley's was just the one that happened to work, and Isaiah came before Howard's, and we can infer from that that all current serums stem from Isaiah's blood. Alexei says his serum was developed from stolen blood from a "semi-stable" CIA test subject, which was most likely Isaiah, since not only is Bucky's considered the most stable serum after Steve's, it's hinted that Zola lost whatever he might've done to Bucky when the facility exploded. He was given no time to pack anything up and would've had no way of knowing a possible serum used on Bucky worked at all given Bucky was still strapped down when Steve arrived. It seems unlikely HYDRA never tried to replicate Bucky's serum and it seems they weren't able to, I have two theories about that: they didn't have an Infinity Stone anymore, which Shuri believes was used in the place of Vita Rays, so they couldn't get whatever Bucky's got cooking to work on anyone else for that reason, or Bucky was never a super soldier at all, with no serum in his blood to attempt synthesizing from.

Just for fun: Bucky teleports. He just...pops around. This is complete crack but a common thing with Bucky is him just disappearing and reappearing in new locations that are implausible to reach even for a super soldier. And it's not just weird editing post-production either, characters react to it, it's a deliberate plot detail. Bucky's somehow able to disappear in seconds in front of T'Challa, the Black Panther, and a lobby full of people and none of them know where he's gone. It was a helipad btw. He somehow ended up on the helipad... dunno how he got there. Bucky jumped off a building with nowhere to go and a second later Steve looked, had a clear unobstructed view, and couldn't see where Bucky went. He does it more as WS than Bucky, so maybe as Bucky he's just not consciously aware he can do it so he doesn't, like the whole "I'm right handed so I don't always think to use [the arm]" thing whereas WS uses everything available to him.

Going with the Infinity Stone exposure theory, the stone Bucky was exposed to was the space stone, and the one Wanda was exposed to was first off the mind stone, and she had mind powers (along with the energy we've seen from all the stones) up until after the Infinity Wars where she came into contact with all the Infinity stones then boom, upgrade. Bucky gets shot once by the Power stone, that's it.

[insomniumstella]

as we slowly die (4) | bucky x avenger!reader

summary: Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, explicit language, alcohol consumption, sarcastic!bucky

word count: 4,620

taglist is down below (please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list!)

author's note: i cannot believe we're at chapter four already ahhh. also, thank you for all of the love and support, it means the world! this series has been too much fun to write. i cannot wait until we get to the end, if you've peeped at the playlist you might've noticed some steamier songs on the bottom for the last chapter — i fear they've given me too many ideas haha

WHERE DREAMS GO TO DIE masterlist

series' SPOTIFY playlist

The third day in Maui had started eerily serene. Dreamy, as if she had not yet abandoned the vivid scenarios and vibrant colors her mind had created.

She had woken up in the early hours of morning alone, with the warm sun rays that had managed to sneak past the blinds and into the bedroom dancing across her exposed skin. Furthermore, the suite’s temperature had been adjusted and the faint buzzing of the AC resembled the most glorious of music. James gave in to my complaints, she had realized, have pigs started flying too? 

He had not, however, bothered to leave a note before leaving, and she had not taken the trouble, or cared enough, to text his work phone and uncover the soldier’s whereabouts. 

The suite had a Nespresso machine with a delightful selection of coffee pods, and, as y/n lounged on the terrace, cozily curled up on one of the chairs, she couldn’t help but indulge in the faint sounds of the onshore breeze and bitter smell of coffee. She closed her eyes, committing the blissful moment to memory, and stored it deep within the chaos of her thoughts for far scarier and inevitably more uncertain times than a false honeymoon with an insufferable sergeant.

It would’ve been perfect if not for the tinges of anxiety at the pit of her stomach. Last night, she had been convinced that she was in desperate need of Steve’s advice, and, in some ways, she was. He could provide help, but could the woman convince Captain America to lie? Would he trust y/n’s instincts enough to stay silent if James admitted to reopening Elijah’s case? Shit, she realized, dragging a palm across her face out of irritation for allowing one major detail to slip past her plans. 

On one hand, she could let go of the idea that James had contacted Steve, but on the other — Steve would skin them both if he found out they had begun reinvestigating Elijah Williamson. Mark Basso, the person she craved to probe, had never been tied to the politician, as far as y/n was aware, but Steve wouldn’t need to suddenly possess Wanda’s magic to miss a blatant lie. There had to be a way to obtain information without arousing suspicions.

Wanda had been on probation since the destruction of a building complex in Paris. Natasha had left for a mission in Singapore before the Maui trip and would, lamentably, return after. Tony would be no better than Steve if he found out James and she had gone against the wishes of the justice system and the FBI. 

Sam, she scoffed at her absurdity for excluding The Falcon, Sam would know what to do. 

The coffee had been long forgotten by the time she gathered the courage to text Sam’s number. Perhaps her concerns had been for nothing. Sam was a righteous man, yes, but he was also y/n’s floormate, and the two would often find themselves in the middle of trouble. The fun, laugh-until-we-can’t-breath kind of trouble. Though it was not the foundation of their bond, the pair’s mutual dislike towards James had led to countless nights of free-flowing tequila and extensive conversations. Sam was a compassionate friend and an incredible soldier who, unlike the captain, trusted y/n’s abilities and judgment entirely. It was never Steve who she had needed. Sam had been the answer all along. 

BEST AVENGER: Sam! I’m in desperate need of a favor. 

BEST AVENGER: I’ll do whatever you want. 

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: anything? 

BEST AVENGER: ANYTHING. 

Anything was not a word she’d often use when it regarded offers, but if he’d gather the information she needed to prove her theory, there was a slim chance of y/n performing anything Sam wanted of her.  

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: I want my laundry washed, ironed, and folded for the next month.

Except for that. She had bribed Rhodey to do laundry for her years ago. It had been surprisingly easy, considering he enjoyed a particular Portuguese dessert, and y/n, as a fan of pastel de nata herself, had the best spots in New York to obtain said dessert memorized. Rhodey would receive a bag of pastéis de nata, and, in return, she’d receive her laundry washed, ironed, and folded week after week. The woman doubted Rhodey would agree to do the same for Sam as the Falcon had been an avid pastéis de nata hater. 

BEST AVENGER: we can negotiate the terms when I get back. 

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: what do you need? 

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: if this is about Thomas, I took him out.

BEST AVENGER: who’s Thomas? 

Confusion clouded her features. Thomas, Thomas, she searched her brain for anything until it hit her, fuck. The last few days had been too hectic to remember Thomas, the compound’s weaponry assistant, inviting y/n out on a date to a nearby dive bar with incredible appetizers and dirt-cheap cocktails. The bar would never be treated as the best place for dates, but she had fallen in love with it, including Jennifer, the bartender, who’d ring her vodka Red Bulls as single-shot cocktails and pour two shots in the concoctions instead. 

BEST AVENGER: never mind, except for the part of you TAKING HIM OUT?!

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: on a date. 

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: it was a manly date. We drank beer and ate nachos. Watched a football game. He’s a pretty cool guy. Why’d you ghost him? 

BEST AVENGER: what is a ‘manly’ date?

BEST AVENGER: also, I forgot.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: you have to apologize when you get back. I’d love him as a brother-in-law.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: and don’t worry about it.

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: I thought you needed a favor?

I should apologize, she silently agreed. Thomas was a man not only kind but beyond funny. She had stayed up for hours to talk to him, and though she had found herself being lectured by James the next day when she could barely keep her eyes open during a meeting, y/n had not regretted the decision. Thomas and his witty jokes had been worth it.

BEST AVENGER: please look up Mark Basso. Send me every file you can find, any photos or security cam footage, especially if he’s near Elijah Williamson. 

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: Elijah Williamson? 

She could almost hear the interest in Sam’s tone as she raked her eyes over the words.

BEST AVENGER: pinky promise to not tell Steve? 

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: if the laundry will get washed, pressed, and folded for the next month, yes. 

Tony might give into y/n’s innocent eyes and distressed monologue of ‘we need to hire a housekeeper, so the world can get saved’. He had to because she texted Sam back without giving the action much consideration. 

BEST AVENGER: fine. 

Sam’s reply came several minutes later, proving the minor of her concerns. 

SAM THE MIGHTY FALCON: wanna tell me the reason why you’re interested in a former HYDRA operative?

She did, except there was no way to reveal her outrageous theory of Elijah Williamson and Mark Basso without terrifying Sam, so the only response she could think of sending was limited to a short and simple —

BEST AVENGER: no. 

It was deep into the evening when she had abandoned the suite. 

The single time James had returned, y/n had been on the terrace, basking in the sun and scanning over the room service’s options; he had disappeared as hastily as he had come. It shouldn’t have bothered the woman, she had tried to not let his behavior disturb her peace, and yet … it did.

A sole greeting would’ve sufficed, an acknowledgment, whether surly or amicable, would’ve lifted the weight off her heart, but James had chosen radio silence as his weapon. It had been a foolish mistake to wonder whether something between them had changed. 

It had not. 

She needed a break from the break or the vacation Wanda had fooled her into. 

Wanda and Steve would decidedly receive a lengthy monologue of ‘what the fuck were you two thinking by sending James and me on a fucking honeymoon in Hawaii’ when she got back. She had always refrained from cussing too much when Steve was in earshot, but desperate times allowed desperate measures. 

The past two days had been the opposite of y/n’s expectations. Had she expected margaritas, scorching sun, and below-average pizza in the 24/7 lounge? Yes. Had she foreseen being roped into the eminently criminal lives of Elijah Williamson, Mark Basso, and the unfathomable reason why would the two take interest in Steve Rogers? She would’ve predicted a truce with James Buchanan Barnes before she had anticipated the disaster. Or sex. She would’ve envisioned sex with James before she would’ve forecasted the mess they had gotten into. Not that y/n would ever want to have James naked, sweaty, and hot from sinful activities, of course. Absolutely no. 

She forced her mind to return to the problem at hand. Steve Rogers was an intriguing man, a mere science experiment in the forties, a true hero in modern times, and crowds of people desired to meet him. However, a corrupted politician and a former HYDRA officer? As soon as they had entered the suite after enduring the yacht party, she had wondered whether it was a lighthearted chat over a beer they’d want from him, and each thought had led to the answer of definitely not. She had also pondered over Bucky and his muscular arms, but that she’d rather not remember, for the shame would consume her whole. Get a grip, she had scolded herself then. 

Mark Basso and Elijah Williamson as formal acquaintances would be the best-case scenario. The worst scenario she could conceptualize had been Mark and Elijah hoping to recreate the super soldier serum. It had been the fall of HYDRA, and it would be poetic for it to be the beginning of a new wave of criminals. It’d also explain Elijah’s interest in The Winter Soldier rather than in James.

That was her final theory — Elijah and Mark desired to produce super soldiers. She had decided it was far better than James’s ‘HYDRA exists’. It only needed the answer as to what the two had been planning on using the super soldiers for and what crimes had they already committed. And proof. It desperately needed evidence.

Sam had confirmed Mark to be a HYDRA operative, but he had also observed that Mark had been marked as deceased. He had gone through heaps of files, each identifying the man as deceased or missing, dating back to seven years ago. She hoped Sam would find the footage from the gala in Germany. It had taken place two years ago, she was certain, for she had attended. The database had to contain fraudulent documents. 

Sam had a unique method to the madness, but y/n trusted him on the field, and she trusted him to meticulously search through complex databases. He’d contact her soon, and, in the meantime, the perfect opportunity had presented itself. It was as if her intuition had led y/n to a secluded area on the beach just south of The Maui Resort. 

She trailed after the sound of music, ducking palm leaves. The sun had long fallen, and the icy touch of the sand clawed at her bare feet. Jordan, the woman remembered, the party’s tonight. She would not describe her worn-out tee and tiny shorts as party attire, but it’d have to do.

“Hi!” Jordan abandoned the lounge chair, weaving around people on the bamboo deck. “She remembered.” She had not realized their height difference until he was standing in front of the woman, looking down at her with a boyish grin. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Hi.” She returned the grin, studying his drunken expression. “I like the braids.” It was an honest compliment, and she returned his embrace when he hugged her as a thank you. 

“Appreciate it.” His smile showcased his teeth this time. “I like the shirt.” 

“Thank you.” She spun around to showcase the vintage AC/DC tee she had thrifted almost four years ago and cocked her head to the side. “I don’t usually wear oversized tees to parties, but it might’ve been the correct choice.” Playfulness colored her tone as she referred to his bare chest and lounge shorts. 

“It was.” The boy nodded. Though he had mentioned recently turning twenty-four during the anniversary dinner, she decided he’d do a great job at blending in as an ordinary freshman at college. It might’ve been his carefree attitude at the core of it all. 

“Mmmh,” she watched him through hooded eyes, holding his stare before her eyes dipped lower. 

His skin was scattered with tattoos, intricate art pieces, and tiny doodles adored most of his upper body, resting on the lean muscle of his biceps, adonis belt, and pecks. The ink was on the verge of blending into the golden brown of his skin, creating a strikingly beautiful contrast. 

“Let me get you a drink,” Jordan’s hand slid to the small of y/n’s back as he led her further into the backyard, “can I get you a drink?” He questioned, flashing another grin when she perched on the terrace’s wide railing. Hints of cockiness had infiltrated his tone.

“Yes, please.” 

James had zero recollection of the path he had taken to wind up at an unfamiliar house. One moment he had been at the Hale ‘A bar, drowning his solicitudes in dirty martinis, and the other, his own body had stopped listening to his commands, leading the way against Bucky's wishes. 

Fairy lights bled a soft glow onto the cozy couches and the tiny kitchen on the first floor of the house. The backyard was decorated with lights too, James could see through the window, from where he was sprawled out on the cushions. His body had taken him to The Maui Resort’s staff party, a place in which he shouldn't have been, yet decided upon staying in anyway. 

This morning he had woken up at the crack of dawn, laying motionless as he listened to y/’s shallow and uniform breathing. He had taken a peak at the woman, her figure deep in peaceful slumber, before slipping into the bathroom and swiftly abandoning the suite altogether. 

James had silently cursed himself out for the heavy silence between them. It was, partially, on him, but she had not made an effort to text him either. Forced conversations had been the norm for years, and yet the pair had strayed far away from the shared standard in the past two days. A line had been blurred, both had sensed it. Perhaps he had been a fool to indulge in fictitious hope of the relationship between them ever shifting. The two were not destined to become friends, James would never want to be friends. It was best they stayed somewhat professional, balancing on the line of nemeses and cordial co-workers. 

“You look like a gin and tonic kind of guy,” a redhead pushed a drink into his flesh hand, “god,” she sighed, plopping next to him, “I hope you’re a gin and tonic kind of guy.” 

James was a Thor’s Asgardian ale kind of gal, favoring the only alcohol, which could effortlessly provide him a pleasant buzz, but the woman’s expression reeked of insecurity, the hue of her eyes overflowing with doubt. 

It was evident she found James attractive from the way she’d play with the ends of her fiery waves to the way, she scooted closer and closer until the space between them had vanished. Though James didn’t move a muscle to push her away, the closeness between him and the stranger was fairly uncomfortable. It had been more relaxing to have y/n, the last woman he’d think of for such an occurrence, sit on his lap. Her sun-kissed skin had been remarkably soft against the soldier’s, her thighs a perfect weight to rest atop his own, her nimble fingers subconsciously drawing patterns on his forearms the most peculiar of comfort. Get a grip, James, he winced at the direction his mind had taken, you cannot find y/n attractive. 

“I am,” James lied through his teeth, wondering whether the woman had recognized him as the Winter Soldier. 

“Good,” she nodded, propping a bent arm on the couch’s backrest. “You look awfully familiar,” the redhead drained half her drink, “have we met before?” 

James sincerely hoped they haven’t, for it would mean she had encountered the version of him James preferred to keep under wraps these days. 

“I doubt it.” He shrugged, staring at her. 

She was an undoubtedly gorgeous woman, and she wanted him. The redhead desired James, and it was the strangest emotion. He could never sweep his past as a ruthless assassin under the rug. She, presumably, had not identified James as such, and yet he couldn’t allow himself to believe she, or most women for that matter, would crave him. 

Except for y/n. He had permitted himself to accept that y/n had wanted him by the way she had repeatedly clenched her thighs on the god-forsaken boat. It might've been delusional, he understood, but if she had not squirmed in his lap for the reason of lust, what else could it have been? 

Anxiety, you big buffoon, James scolded himself. The disgraceful thoughts of y/n would one day be the end of him, and the soldier feared the day might be closer than he could envision.  

“Maya!” A deeper voice rang through the room. It was Jordan, the waiter, James recognized, who was leaning against the doorframe. “Where are the mics?” 

The redhead jumped from the couch, rummaging through a woven basket before waving two microphones in the air. James stared at the man, attempting to distinguish the figure behind him. He could not see the person’s face, but dread washed over James as soon as the woman giggled. 

“I love karaoke,” she admitted, drunkenly holding onto his waist, “can we sing Life Is A Highway?” The sound, which slipped past y/n's lips, was muffled, and James guessed she had rested her face against the waiter's exposed back. 

Jordan stepped aside, reaching back to catch y/n's forearms in his tattooed hands before he tugged her in his direction to clear the doorway and make room for someone else, a guy less intoxicated.

"Jordan!" A sound from the deck slithered inside. "I think you two should stop with the drinks!" He called out, popping his head into the room to rake his eyes over Jordan's figure once more before disappearing. 

"Alright!" Jordan called after him and focused his attention on y/n, a lazy smirk painting his expression. "Yes, we can," he squatted down to mess with the TV, a tangle of cables, and the pair of microphones, "and we should." 

Though the house, both inside and out, was crowded, she’d undeniably notice James, cheeks flushed, shirt wrinkled from when he had hurriedly dressed in the morning without ironing the clothing article. Unless, of course, the state of her mind was beyond heavy tipsiness and bordered on harsh intoxication.

“It’s only the best song ever,” She giggled again, leaning against a dresser, her eyes fixated on Jordan’s hunched form. 

James had never seen y/n loosen up as if the world outside the territory of the staff house did not exist. As if every single one of her worries held no weight at that moment. As if he was not sitting just a couple feet away from her, the redhead breaching his personal space, her head lazily resting on his flesh shoulder. She wouldn’t care, he thought, why should I? 

“Lick It Up by KISS is a close second,” Jordan chuckled when the karaoke app on the TV belatedly turned on, the screen glowing dark purple. “Right above You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.” He offered her a microphone.

The woman took it without hesitation, turning her back to James entirely.

“You did shake me all night long,” yet another giggle slipped past her lips, her drunken movements far slower than customary, “and I loved it.”

James had zero clue of what the comment could reference.

“C’mon,” Jordan chuckled, clicking on Life Is A Highway in the app, “it was the least I could do after that bastard husband of yours abandoned the anniversary dinner.” He narrowed his eyes, lost in the memory. "I suppose he did show up, but what kind of a man is almost an hour late to meet his wife for a celebratory evening?"

“No!” Maya, the redhead next to James, gasped. “Are you married?”

She stayed silent for a beat longer than she should’ve. “Yes," the innocent piece of fiction rolled off y/n's tongue.

“And your husband missed a fourth wedding anniversary celebratory dinner?” It was a mess of a sentence, but James had a sober idea the gin and tonics were to blame.

“Partly,” she replied, gawking at the TV — the track was about to play, "he arrived late on purpose and,” she blurted out before the white letters had the chance to turn yellow, indicating it was her time to sing, “I’m considering a divorce.”

It was apparent the two had either consumed more alcohol than their limits supported or were too preoccupied with one another and the karaoke to notice James, the abhorrent husband, sprawled out on the sofa. 

"How can a man get married," Jordan commented, eyes glued on the screen in front of him, right arm loosely draped across y/n's shoulders, "and treat his wife in such an outrageous way is beyond me." 

"Agreed," James chimed in, exhausting the red plastic cup of the gin and tonic, "the husband is a jerk." The sound of his voice was louder, bolder. 

She didn't notice his presence or, perhaps, she did, and solely pretended to miss Bucky's distinct tone. Perhaps Life Is A Highway had consumed y/n's attention, too. James would've never deemed her as a great singer, but then again, he had never heard y/n sing, the man observed as she stayed on key, effortlessly hitting all of the notes.  

It was only Maya, who acknowledged James, mumbling a low “mmmh.”

Jordan's hand snaked down to y/n's waist, and James averted his gaze to silence the ugly emotion some tended to describe as jealousy.

"I found a water bottle in the mini-fridge," his voice was a meek sound in the night's wind, "placed in on the bedstand in case you'd need it," she didn't speak when he dropped into an empty seat on the suite's terrace beside her, "you look rough." 

You look rough, she replayed the remark in her head and chuckled, surrendering into Bucky's sarcasm, for it was an understated statement. The staff party, while fun, had not been kind on y/n's appearance, though the woman couldn't care less as the memories, if she could remember any in the morning, had been worth it. The night had been rich in alcohol, music, and dance. 

A silence settled between the pair. She sought to establish a description best fit for the stillness, yet every acceptable name would die on the tip of y/n's tongue. 

The moment sanctioned James an opportunity to forget life outside Maui. To care for y/n by ensuring she had water and a brisk bedroom to sleep in. To abandon the emotions, she had been familiar with and showcase his inner self that had never desired war in the first place. 

It was James who disturbed the peace, "have you always been carefree, or have I been too big of an asshole to notice?" 

She laughed, the sound of it boisterous and genuine. "I am everything, but carefree," her tone was firm, calculated, mournful even, "but the world continues moving forward as we slowly die." 

Carefree was a foreign word in her vocabulary. The woman had not been a carefree agent nor a carefree friend, always concerned over problems that were not her own. Her heart had always been y/n's greatest strength and worst weakness, she realized, staring into Bucky's curious eyes. It might be the vodka speaking, she considered, but I could be nicer to James. In the past, she'd rather perish into dust than involve herself in anything regarding the soldier.

"We are dying," he observed, "every last one of us." 

"It's the cruel truth of the universe," she nodded, bringing her knees to rest on the woven chair, "we experience living in parallel with death." It was the harshest of jokes. "If I notice a rare opportunity to melt away stress and lift the weight of saving the world off of my shoulders, why wouldn't I take it?" The question was one of the rhetorical kind. 

The burden of rescuing the world and its residents would inevitably break y/n into unsalvagable pieces one day, but, it was also a remarkable reason to push forward. 

"When I sneeringly suggested we kiss yesterday," the corners of his mouth turned up into a weak smile, "it wasn't an invitation." 

The woman gasped, amusement glimmering in her eyes, and spoke before James could clarify the sentence, "I would never take it as such." 

"Outstanding," he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised in merriment, "but the remark wasn't all sarcasm," his fingers mindlessly picked at the loose strands of the chair's cushion, "I don't hate you." 

And there it was — a second observation for y/n to add to her mostly blank image of James Buchanan Barnes. The former soldier was vulnerable, despite his icy exterior suggesting otherwise. 

"I don't hate," she began declaring and hastily paused, thinking her next words through, "alright, I do hate you," Bucky's mouth fell open in faux shock, but she continued before he could bite back, "but you break me in training, and you snitch to Tony whenever I drive his stupidly expensive cars, and you bring Rhodey pastéis de nata, so he'd stop doing my laundry," she hiccuped, drunkenly eager to list further reasons. 

"It hasn't worked yet," James admitted, "I'd guess there are a lot more arguments for your disdain towards me," the sentence, though not formulated as such, rung through the night as a question. 

"You'd be correct. You hid Natasha's favorite suit and blamed it on me. Who does that?" A soft punch landed on his bicep. "That was an exceptionally low blow, Barnes, even for you." Playfulness colored her tone with hints of resentment clinging to it. 

"Yes," there was no shame in the sentiment, "but you knew I was lactose intolerant when you switched out the milk." 

She giggled under her breath, "oops." The word held no guilt. "Besides, I am James Barnes intolerant." 

A tender sigh slipped past his lips, "how about a truce? I carry you to bed, and you never touch my almond beverages ever again?" James suggested, taking notice of y/n's heavy eyelids as she attempted to appear awake.

The answer had not been a sound but rather an action. The woman outstretched her arms, suggesting Bucky's almond milk would remain untainted if her body would soon reach the comfort of the suite's bed. 

It did. She had fallen asleep as soon as her figure had ended up in James's arms. 

Sleep tight, he thought, retreating back to the couch and abandoning the sinful idea of sleeping beside y/n on the single bed in a massive bedroom, for tomorrow's hangover will be brutal.  

TAGS:

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[inky-here]

assigning each of the mercs a the front bottoms song because I'm insane about the front bottoms and also i sat through a 20 hour bus ride with nothing better to do

sniper - skeleton

demo - hooped earrings

heavy - be nice to me

spy - camouflage

scout - father

pyro - tie dye dragon

engie - outlook

medic - swear to god the devil made me do it

soldier - fairbanks, alaska

this is my personal interpretation, please do keep in mind that english is not my first language, therefore I might've missed some hidden meanings:)

(three more are in reblogs because i hit the audio limit for a post lol)

feel free to add more!

[marcussour]

Random C3E113 bits and thoughts

The magic of editing on Sam's ad

"Silver Saddles"

Lionel being -possibly- a duck that was true polymorphed by Scanlan will never stop being funny

GOD DAMN THE COCONUTS ALA MONTY PYTHON FOR THE CENTAURS SOUND

Oh no, Percy and Vex conversation with Keyleth really got me

Old man Trinket!

"She's fenomenal at letting go"

Of course there's been conversations about Vex keeping Percy in the locket so he doesn't die of old age. The couple of all time those 2.

They remembered Junie and Wax! (Wax, damn it, I mean, if you have to find a way to shorten Wildhand'ildan)

Meat Man: Imports and Sexports

Cerkonos being Scanlan's biggest fan will never stop being funny. Bless Robbie for the way he took over the character and gave it a personality.

MAN, INCREDIBLE DICE ROLL. HAD IT BEEN CHETNEY, HE WOULD'VE DIED. THANKFULLY IT WAS GROG.

Of course Percy didn't wanted to leave Whitestone undefended, and also, had his doubts about sending troops with guns to fight

J'MON SA ORD MY BELOVED!

So the troops are arriving to the Malleus key basically in "Avengers: Endgame" final battle way.

FUCK YEAH, LIAM'S BACK AS LIEVE'TEL

I was waiting so much for the moment that Vex would break the news of Bertrand's death to Lieve'tel

I love how all these chucklefucks still behave as always among themselves, and then had to put their more regal faces when talking with Bells Hells or the rest of the world. And I know it's because there's a difference from them being player characters to Matt playing them as NPCs. Don't know if it was planned or not, but it certainly works.

"can you make the noise?"

Celestials!

FUCK SHIT UP

Man I hope we'll see one day this scene of the gathering of forces animated -and that they have enough budget to pull it through, cause there's a lot of characters here-.

Trinket <3

Amazing that Sam still has the old giant tankard

Look at you Essek (also, hilarious that Vox Machina has no clue who he is, even under disguise as Seth)

And Essek's brother is here too, aka, HOT BOY N°2

"I write poetry"; "That's fine"

"Keyleth, can you sign my tits?"

Oh the goodberries

XANDIS!!! I love that he now has to stuck around Vox Machina

Oh Lieve'tel, the silver bell was a memento from Bertrand

Don't remember where I read it, but it's amazing how Grog takes over Travis whenever he's playing it, a sight to behold

Oh how I've missed Scanlan's songs

Oh that map with all the minis is awesome. At this point it's gonna end up looking like a Warhammer map with all the minis.

Matt's gotta have a full box of minis just for Keyleth's transformations

Also, love the new Vox Machina minis

"There's some horse in this house"

The Krin Dinasty troops fighting remindes me of the elves at the beginning of The Fellowship of the Ring

NO MERCY PERCY!! Of course his first attack is a NAT 20, and also, of course his walking cane is a sword that's also a gun

That was the most Grog thing that could've happened

"3 headed white raven as a planar ally", Lieve'tel's not playing around

Nothing more on brand for Kiki than accidentally burning the Krin soldiers next to the Vanguard ones. But hey, fog of war

OPAL HAS ENTERED THE CHAT!

I wish Aimee had been there, but they might've need a bigger table for 10 people

Devo'ssa's new mini is so pretty

Grog's so OP that he made quick work of the vidulch almost as if was nothing. Gotta love high level barbarians.

Well, that was a great episode. I'm so glad to have Vox Machina back, at least for a couple of episodes.

[nomsfaultau]

Daily ask №27!

Turn the lights off x Fault edition because why not!

For context TTLO is my unpublished fic that I'm working on. The main plot is that Tommy accidentally gets into the cryptid world where he meets new friends and uncovers the truth about his past.

1. In TTLO cryptids are people who have died in some unusual way and then stayed in the community's memory as folklore, cautionary tales, etc. After some emotions and belief are poured into them, they reappear as monsters aka cryptids. That could include anything from vampires to sirens to a girl who cut their head open on a rock and emerged as some mushroom monstrosity. Now that that's out of the way, what sort of cryptids would Fault characters be, if they were one?

2. What sort of a cryptid would YOU be? On that note, I might've made you canon in TTLO for the funsies. You're a mute author who lived in the main town quite some years ago, but one time the town's connection to the other towns got temporarily cut off for whatever reason and with that, a paper and ink shortage happened. You, due to not being able to express your stories and ideas, went completely mad and wrote all over your walls with blood. And died shortly. Now you're chilling in the cryptid world. Thoughts?

3. Do you have any fic ideas that you really enjoy but don't even try to fulfil because you know you won't be able to? Share 'em!

4. How would YOU like to mess up my story if you got the chance to enter it? Yk how I interact with the Fault characters but in reverse. Go on, cause chaos.

5. Would you actually be interested in me ranting about TTLO? Not in asks, of course, just in general? °👉👈°

Philza.

There’s an old man who lives at the edge of town. Been there far longer than you or me, and some say our grandparents could claim the same, and so could theirs. His smile is meltingly warm, but something ain’t right. Might be the look in his eyes, distant, like he’s lookin at a memory instead of you. Might be the crows that always circle over head, like they know he’s already decomposing. The old man’s nice enough folk if you ever talk, but don’t ever linger too long. Not that you’ll run out of welcome; it’s the opposite you best be worrying about with that one. Every few years a kid gets too curious, gets taken underwing by the old man. He collects the oddballs, the ones who don’t quite fit in. Always young, always someone who won’t be missed. The kids who go to him look happier but…only for a little while. Hard to smile when you’re gone. Anderson was the most recent, good head on that one. He is going big places one of these days. Or was. Now his only destination is 6 feet under. And the old man? Well. There’s a young man who lives at the edge of town. Been there far longer than you or me, and some say our grandparents could claim the same, and so could theirs. 

Wilbur. 

Nobody looks the homeless in the eyes. Fingers drumming on dashboards, pinned on stoplights and passengers and mirrors and anywhere but the man on the street corner whistling for loose coins. Nobody looks the homeless in the eyes, and so no one sees when the winter hollows them out to something hopeless. No one sees when starvation claws out everything inside until all that’s left is hunger, hunger, hunger. No one sees when life leaves those eyes. No one sees. Today there was a new stranger in town. It doesn’t draw more than glances despite being a head taller than the crowd. No one can bear to look the new stranger in the eyes. Maybe he doesn’t have any. But the town does notice when people begin to go missing, if only because these ones were important enough for their deaths to matter. The new stranger doesn’t beg like the others do. He doesn’t need to. The new stranger whistles a jaunty tune as it drifts in and out of so-called society, its lips stained with blood. 

The Blade. 

A good soldier never falters, never loses, never ceases. They say he was the best soldier, once. The war was a brutal one, long and cruel. Maybe there was honor in it, maybe there wasn’t. It doesn’t matter so much when there’s an enemy before you and a threat to your life. It matters even less when you’re losing. The fort was over run, the flag long since ripped down. His fellow warriors bled out in messy, unremarkable ways. Sudden, with no time to mourn or care, as if they weren’t his brothers in arms. The invading army was taking prisoners if you lay down your weapons and accepted indignity. Not for a second did he consider surrender, though there wasn’t a hope of surviving when outnumbered twenty to one. But a good soldier never falters. They say he was the best soldier, once. He did not hesitate, throwing himself at the next foe, and the next, fighting tooth and nail. One man can’t take on an army, but he tried. The soldier fought day and night. It was not an enemy that laid him low but the collapsing of his own exhausted body. Sleep claimed him once and for all. But a good soldier never loses. They say he was the best soldier, once. So he simply picked himself back up and continued until panting and soaked in viscera he alone stood in the husk of the ravaged fortress. And yet, he had not yet won. A soldier’s duty does not end with one battle. One man can’t take on a war, but he did. The soldier hunted down every last opponent, a wave of slaughter shredding through battalions until the brutal was over. But what is a soldier during peace? Nothing. Relentlessly, the soldier continues to wage war upon any and all he encounters, prowling the wilderness and waiting for the next fight. Because a good soldier never ceases. They say he was the best soldier, once. They don’t say what he is now. 

Tubbo.

You hear about Rhodes’ kid? Shame. Damn shame. Such a sweet kid, friendly. Too friendly. Got drawn in like a moth to flame with those- well, I mean cult’s strong language and I don’t want to tread on toes with whose god is right, but…mm. Bad sorts. Sweet as honey, sure, but I had a feeling in my gut it was going to break bad when the kid started hanging around at their church meetings. Should’ve opened my mouth, but you know how desperate they were for friends. You remember the news article, right? How many pieces did they find the kid in again? Somethin like four hundred thousand? Huh. Well all I’ll say -and you don’t tell Rhodes this yah hear? He don’t need no more heart break. But I don’t see how the cops figured out it was them. And- and you really can’t repeat I said this- but I could’ve sworn I saw his kid today, handing out fliers for that cult like they weren’t all arrested years ago. Hey! I know they’re dead! And yet…well. Couldn’t’ve been anyone else. Maybe it’s nothing, Mrs. Fletcher, but I saw Jasmine talkin to them, and- and has she come back from school yet? …oh. Maybe we should round up the search party. Better safe than sorry. 

Tommy. 

They had to chain the door to the water tower, though it’s far too late. Not that anybody lives in the surrounding town anymore despite all the new vacancies; they say the tap still tastes of iron. The chain is bulky and intimidating, but everyone knows it was locked before too and it didn’t save anyone. If anything it makes it a challenge, and all the threatening signs they put up after would only tempt more dares from reckless teens if the town still had those. It had to have been a dare gone wrong. Had to be. Because otherwise that meant there was someone in town who’d drag a teenager all the way up a water tower just to drown him, and nobody could handle the thought. The faucets ran red for weeks after. The health officials swore up and down it was safe despite the color. Maybe they were right. Maybe what happened after had nothing at all to do with the dead kid, but nobody really believes that. Because even if no one held that kid down thrashing and gurgling, surely there was someone to blame. Everyone, maybe. The friends who pressured him to climb up, the parents who didn’t enforce curfew, the maintenance worker who forgot to lock the facility. Each dragged out, their every flaw magnified and contorted into something intolerable. The lucky were ran out of town mottled with bruises. The justice didn’t stop there, of course. Onto the bully who must’ve driven the teen to it, the neighbor who could’ve warned the parents when he snuck out of the house, the passerby who might’ve seen them crossing the street. Fewer and fewer survived the trials, the fingers pointed at one another quick to turn into claws. It spiraled out into uncontrolled accusations, mobs descending upon any and all and soon unraveling into pure anarchy. The town ripped itself apart. Literally, viscerally. The rivers ran scarlet with their blood, staining the banks and their hands. It couldn't be helped. The town had developed a taste for blood. 

brooo your world building is so sickkkkk ahhh.

2.Yeah that’s probably how I go out tbh. I’d not be functional without the ability to write or draw. Hope someone at least copied down the bloody words otherwise that was waste of time smh. Some people just don’t appreciate the fact that the ~5 liters of blood the average person has doesn’t actually go that far. 

And God already assigned me vampire for my monstersona. But a couple years ago I had a dream about a fallen angel who was deeply in denial about it. They were a thick ring of white feathers and periodic wings covered in golden eyes that wept as they were forced to confront the fact that the human world was soon to be invaded by demons, and the forces of hell would be slaughtered. So like ideal bod am I right gamers. 

3.Not a fic, but a game. Multiple endings. Had it before SBI, but more vague notions in the years I’ve had it. Starts with Phil moving into a new house. Some clear trauma hidden, world building set up. Then teen hero Tommy stumbles into his house suffering a concussion, thinking it’s his house. Real bad off. Phil helps him out natch, ends up with a bleeding kid asleep on his couch and is just trying to cope with that. When Tommy gets better he’s freaked out and defensive and runs away immediately. But also…now he knows someone who can do stitches. And so the next time is weeks later and he’s dragging in a hissing and panicking fellow teen hero, who is far less okay with a civilian knowing they’re hurt and possibly learning their identity. Cue Phil beginning to run into more and more teen heroes and slowly earning their trust. It’s mostly about picking the right dialogue to build up rapport, though with some minigames for things like giving the kids medical aid, getting them the right presents that are helpful for either vigilante or civilian life, and making tasty food to fill their scrappy bodies and win them over. It is very, very difficult though. 

Cause like. The reason they’re all kids is because heroes kinda don’t last long enough to become adults? It’s a very gritty setting, focusing on the factors that drive kids of all different backgrounds into becoming heroes and the poor ways they cope with the pressure. With Tommy it’s like a sanctioned way to get out his anger issues and receive adoration. Techno’s dead parents were villains so he feels like he has to prove he isn’t like them bc of societal pressure. Probably in foster care, so it’ll be time consuming to try and adopt him. Tubbo was meant to be a sidekick but got shoved into the role, technically with the support of a hero agency but there’s way too much pressure to fill an adult role. It’s a toxic situation, but Tubbo is convinced he has to do this to save everyone (but himself) and the heroes have enough power to make things very difficult for Phil if he tries to help Tubbo too much. Niki is absolutely seething about the state of things, and is honestly more a vigilante because she refuses to sit back on corrupt ‘good guy’ practices. She’s homeless, but wary of any authority figures so has to warm up to consider crashing at Phil’s. Stuff like that idk its very nebulous and I’m kinda making stuff up rn. Thoughts about abusive parents, or parents that force into the good hero role in a perfectionist way (Ranboo maybe?), maybe a kid starting villainy? It’s a very extended cast thing. 

Some are way more trusting, others have bad experiences with adults, others think Phil is a civilian and so needs to shut up and be protected. Bonding scenes like helping protect a secret identity, or distracting a villain in a fight, or patching up wounds, or baking to keep up with superhero metabolisms, or giving life advice (be it for prom date or nemesis). Phil is running around herding cats and lots of the time supporting one means others might not stay safe. Also Phil in the past got like ptsd from a villain attack and so has to deal with his own problems, idk details. And also finds out his corporate job is helping the BBEG uh oh. Phil probably get kidnapped to draw out all the heroes to save him. Or, well, the ones with negative relationships are unlikely to help, making it harder for the rest to succeed. 

The endings come into play considering how many kids you’ve managed to take care of/win the trust of/get to safer situations. Some are far far harder to convince to trust Phil, or may be down but Phil’s ability to help may be limited. Essentially, the higher the relationship bars are with everyone the better the ending. Neutral or negative relationships lead to stuff like injuries or deaths, though not necessarily related to the kid with the low stats always. Cause obviously you’d care more about the kids that you went through the effort of getting their routes right. So it could be like a teammate failed to help, or they weren’t able to cohesively function as a group, or Phil hadn’t knocked in enough sense to stop being self sacrificial/more invested in taking the villain down than making sure no one’s hurt, or the kid that could’ve dragged the injured one to get healed by Phil didn’t trust him and the injured hero died without medical intervention. With better endings being very difficult since a lot of the kids have conflicting needs and you’d have to play like perfectly to get even good stats with everyone (impossible to max out everyone). But that leads to things like no one getting hurt, and progressing to getting kids with the highest stats into safer lives thereafter and more support for others.

4.I don’t know too much, but based on the world building I would try to disrupt all the folklore that the characters survive off of. Make like a youtube/podcast debunking all the myths, get hella famous, and do everything I can to disrupt the word of mouth belief that the cryptids rely on. In the human world I'm hailed as fighting disinformation. In the cryptid world I'm like thanos probably.

5.I am SO DOWN oh my God yes please. 

[twothpaste]

thinking about how the hell porky managed to get a few hundred people to go along with being timetravel-relocated to a post-apocalyptic island, and why they just go about their daily lives as if nothing's horrifying or strange about that. writing it off as "he ran every single person through the mind control goo in the nice person hot springs" feels too easy to me, and less interesting, and kinda less meaningful too. i like considering all the forms of coercion that might've gone into it...

i think some of the ordinary civilians porky brought to populate the islands were brain-gooped, but others didn't necessarily have to be. they may be wholly in their right minds, just deeply misled about their displaced predicament. porky's probably got all kinds of stories he spins for them. kidnapping people who were traveling to a new place anyways, and convincing them they've arrived at their destination. coaxing people with promises of lucrative new careers or cheap real estate. some scientists might've been bribed with his wacky sci-fi technology, and promises they'd get to work on revolutionary futuristic projects. in dcmc's case, he scavenged a shitty indie band that couldn't find success, and promised them fame and fortune. etc. porky probably particularly targeted people who were down on their luck (and people who might not be missed...). those who're grateful for their newfound circumstances find little reason to question or protest.

i also imagine some pigmasks were more "brainwashed" than others. like? some of 'em were freaked out and/or rebellious when porky had them time warped to nowhere, and had to be dunked into the "hot springs" to be re-conditioned into serviceable soldiers. but others were easier to control via force, manipulation, and lies - no mind control goo necessary. and some (though perhaps a small few) were content to follow his orders without any coercion, for reasons of their own. happy just to feel important & powerful, and to push others around, unperturbed by the void of any coherent ideology or purpose.

i've got a hc that porky's most trusted soldiers & scientists were told a load of propaganda that goes like this: this really is the future, and humans really did destroy the world. porky's trying to rebuild society from the ground up, and he needs your help. all his efforts on nowhere are secretly a last-ditch effort to save humanity from itself. he pulled only the bravest and noblest souls from the timeline to help him with this task, so really, it's an honorable duty he's bestowed upon you. but y'gotta keep it a secret - if the riff-raff find out, it'll be anarchy in the streets 🫢

there's probably this awkward mish-mash where some folks can clearly remember their families & former lives, and wholly believe they'll return to them one day. or even that their loved ones remain alive and well, that they're still in the same time period, just halfway across the globe. while others have mysterious amnesia, or fabricated memories of serving master porky all their lives. everyone's got different levels of conditioning going on, different reasons for playing along, and different struggles in unlearning it later.