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#first war rp
fractured-hqpromo · 2 years
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Death Eaters in search of Barty Crouch Jr.!
Fractured is an AU Marauders era rp set in the year 1981. There is no prophecy, therefore, Voldemort remains alive and the war continues to divide wizarding kind.
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The nightsisters, in their infinite wisdom, have encased me in stone and magick, with the caveat that they will release me when I tell them my of my vision of Allya. I have been disallowed from inspecting the contents of my cache.
I am typing with the force. It is not as hard as one might expect, just... fiddly.
What they do not know is that I have been experimenting to figure out the finer points of mistwalking, as sisters do. When all is quiet tonight, I will simply leave this place, my due in hand.
Let us see them try and stop me.
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zhenghuaz · 1 year
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A letter arrives to you, yes, you - addressed to you specifically. It arrives in a swarm of pink butterflies. You might know exactly who this is from, or, maybe not.
The letter writes with seemingly cursive handwriting, it seems to be in a language you’re familiar with (albeit a few mistakes).
“PREVIOUSLY, I ASKED YOU IN A SURVEY WHEN YOU’D ALL JUST ADORE TO COME OVER TO MY PARTY. WELL, DON’T WORRY, THE WAIT ISN’T LONG! THE VOTES ARE IN, DOLL!
NOVEMBER 5TH, SATURDAY AT 8PM EST. MARK IT ON YOUR CALENDARS! TELL YOUR BOSS YOU’RE VERY BUSY WITH IMPORTANT THINGS. (YOU ARE). HALT THAT DAILY GRIND FOR A MERE MOMENT OF CELEBRATION ON FASHION.
THIS FASHION PARTY WILL INCLUDE A RUNWAY. WHICH MEANS YOU CAN STRUT YOUR STUFF AND SHOW IT TO THE WORLD MY DARLING!
YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT! IT ISN’T A CONTEST, ITS A SHOW! SHOW OFF EVERYTHING, DARLING!
PARTICIPATION IS NOT NEEDED. WATCHING IS JUST AS FASHIONABLE.
THERE WILL BE ALCOHOLIC DRINKS (PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH THE ALCOHOLIC DRINKS. TRY NOT TO SPILL IT ON GUESTS.), NON ALCOHOLIC DRINKS, FASHION AND, WELL, YOURSELF AND I!
IT DOESNT MATTER IF ITS BEEN DANGLING FROM YOUR WARDROBE FOR 10 YEARS IN A ROW, OR IF IT’S SOMETHING YOU WEAR TO THE DAILY GRIND. BY THE GODS! I WISH TO SEE IT!
ANY AND ALL GUESTS WHO PARTICIPATE IN THE SHOW WILL BE GIVEN A PRIZE.
LOCATION:
GARDEN OF DAWN.
THAT, UM, WATERFALL PLACE. HERE. ILL JUST ATTACH A MAP TO THE LETTER. HOW AM I GOING TO MAKE THIS MANY MAPS IN A WEEK??
ITS A BIT OF A WET AREA. GETTING THERE WILL MOST LIKELY DRENCH YOUR SHOES. BRING AN UMBRELLA. ITS PERFECT FOR RUNWAYS THOUGH! IT’S ALSO THE ONLY ONE I COULD AFFORD.
- Zheng Hua “
A heart is drawn in coloured pencil at the end of the page.
There is a PS written at the end along with
“BY THE WAY IF YOU FOUND THIS RANDOMLY AND IT WASN’T ADDRESSED TO YOU, I GUESS YOU CAN COME TOO. BUT I DONT SEE WHY ANYONE WOULD LOSE MY LETTERS?”
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vampiricsheep · 2 years
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Pact Mixer at Starbower
Where: The Grove When: 10 September 2022 8pm-11pm EST
attendees in order uniform recieve free drinks for the night!
See you there!
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falcqns · 1 year
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𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐲
✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes
✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: with you i serve, with you i fall down. watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out.
✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: hint of autistic!Bucky, inaccurate medical writing by me (pls dont resusitate someone by hitting and punching their chest ok), internalized homophobia but only briefly, violence, blood, hospitals, nightmares. mentions of murder, and weapons.
✰ 𝐚/𝐧: just me channelling my inner @musette22 honestly. inspired by this convo with @natashasera. will probably include a part two at some point.
to who ever reads this: don't bother asking for a part two, you won't get it. i am the owner of this fic, and this blog, and I, and only I, will decided what fic gets a part two and when. respect me and my wishes or get off my blog. thanks!
don't forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.
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The Asset collapsed beside The Target's body, watching it's shallow breathing. It knows it should flee, but The Target is important. not just important to it's handlers, but to The Asset as well. The Target knew The Asset, and carried an expression on its face that The Asset had never seen before.
The Target coughed, blood spurting from its mouth. The Target wheezed, and before The Asset could think about his actions, he was pulling on Steve's arm, and rolling him onto his side, maneuvering him into the recovery position.
Bucky blinked, confused. where was he? what had happened? he looked around him, and saw large skyscrapers reaching into the heavens. his breathing was now as shallow as Steve's was only moments ago, which made him look back at Steve, not being able to hear Steve's rattling chest anymore. the same rattling chest that kept him up at night, the two of them crammed into a small twin sized bed because thats all they could afford.
he pushed Steve on his back, and flesh hand shook, trying to remember what Sarah, Steve's mom and the best second parent Bucky could have asked for, taught him to do if her son ever stopped breathing. he choked out a sob, leaning down and listening for breathing. he choked out a laugh, hearing the steady rise and fall of his lungs, smooth and healthy. his eyes roamed over Steve's body, and he slowly began to piece together that had happened since the last time they were in their cozy Brooklyn apartment.
the war, the draft, the serum. the train, the metal bar breaking and plunging him into the snowy depths below. seeing Steve's break out into terror and desperation, and the ground came rushing towards him faster than a leaf falling from a tree.
he looked down, feeling warmth surround one of his knees. thick, scarlet blood was pouring from an injury on Steve's side, and there was too much blood. too much for him, even.
"fuck, Stevie," Bucky whimpered, and rolled him over. Bucky's body almost crumpled seeing the gunshot wound in Steve's side. "no, no, no," he gasped, pressing his hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Steve was pale, too pale. paler than when he got tuberculosis, and Bucky lost Steve twice in one night, bringing him back each time with a combination of CPR, praying, and slapping his white skin.
"Stevie, don't do this," he begged, just like he had then. "jus' stay with me. stay with me, i'll get you help. c'mon," he said, pushing all his body weight on the wound.
suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching from behind him. his head whipped around, and his eyes landed on a man in a SHIELD uniform. hope filled his tired body, and he broke out into a smile.
"sir," he gasped for air, feeling 10 years old again, and helping Steve after some playground bullies beat him up. "i need help. i think he's bleeding out," he said.
his eyes were so focused on the other man, that he didn't notice the bleeding stop. he also didn't notice blue eyes gazing up at him, filled with love.
"h-he needs help," Bucky gasped, not understanding why the man wasn't moving. "he's gonna die, and i can't lose him, please!" he begged, and watched as the man groaned.
"man, Pierce is gonna kill me," the man groaned, and walked towards Bucky. Bucky went to smile, but all the muscles in his face relaxed and contorted into terror as the man grabbed his tac suit on the shoulder, and began to drag him away.
Bucky shook his head, a scream ripping from his throat.
"NO!" he shouted, trying to get away. "you have to help him! he's gonna die!"
the man groaned, and reached for his gun. "can't believe i got roped into doing this shit," he growled, but before he could as much as pull his gun out of his holster, he was interrupted by a deep, smooth voice.
"don't even think about it, Rumlow." Steve said, struggling to keep his voice steady, pointing his own gun at the rogue agent.
"it's not-" Rumlow began, releasing Bucky, and letting him crash onto his dislocated arm, pain shooting up his torso.
"it's not personal?" Steve growled, moaning in pain and inching closer to Rumlow, the gun pressing closer to him. "it sure feels like it. especially if you're going after the one person i'd burn the world for if it meant i could save him."
"Cap, i'm just following orders." Rumlow tried to reason, but before he could finish his defence, a gun shot rang out, and Rumlow fell to the ground, dead before he even made contact with the wet grass.
Bucky broke out into sobs, grabbing onto Steve's tac suit with his flesh hand.
"Stevie-" he gasped, and Steve fell to his knees. his hands grabbed onto Bucky, and he pulled him close.
"'m here," Steve said, voice growing weak. "'s all right, you're safe."
"don't leave." Bucky begged, soaking Steve's dirty suit with his tears.
Steve went to answer, but was interrupted by Sam running into the clearing where they were. upon seeing Bucky, he pulled his gun out, but was stopped by Steve.
"don't," Steve said. "he's fine. it's him, not the other one." Sam nodded, and called over his comm his location to Nat, Fury, and Maria.
"are you hurt," Sam asked, approaching them. Steve nodded.
"he is too," Steve said, motioning to Bucky. "his arm is dislocated."
Sam got on his knees and nodded. "okay. Bucky, can you roll over so i can put your arm back in the socket?" he asked, and Bucky looked warily up at Steve, but when Steve nodded, he complied, his hand still gripping Steve's suit.
"3...2...1..." Sam counted down, before pushing on his arm, and popping it back in place. Bucky let out a shout, hot tears rolling down his face at the pain. Steve shushed him and wiped his tears as a helicopter approached. as they were brought inside the helicopter and the door slid shut behind him, Bucky didn't let go of Steve, and continue to cry into his chest, afraid that Steve would slip away if he let go of him.
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"no!" Bucky said, readjusting his grip on Steve's suit. "don'! don't take him!" Bucky cried, breathing heavy.
"Bucky," Sam said, his hand wrapping around Bucky's and trying to get him to release Steve. they'd made it to the hospital, and the nurses had tried to wheel Steve away for surgery, but Bucky refused to part with him. "he's gonna be okay. they're just gonna take him into surger-"
"NO!" Bucky screeched, flinging himself ontop of Steve. "you can't!" he exclaimed, and Sam and Nat shared a confused look. "the last t-time he went into surgery he got sepsis and almost d-died!" Bucky sobbed, and Nat sighed, before slowly walking up to him, and gently prying his hand off of Steve, allowing the nurses to wheel him away.
"it's okay, James," she whispered, seeing the terror and heartbreak on Bucky's face as Steve was wheeled away. Bucky tried to pull away, but his body remained where it was, exhausted. "he's strong. super strong, remember?" she said, moving his dirty hair from his face. "remember how he got the serum, and he wasn't sick anymore?" she prompted, and Sam, realizing what she was doing, sat down on Bucky's other side, and rubbed his shoulder.
"he just needs to get the bullet removed, and get some stitches," Sam said. "once that's done, you can go see him again, okay?" Sam said, and him and Natasha smiled at each other when he began to relax into their arms. "he's going to be okay." Sam said, and looked at Nat as she ran her fingers through his hair.
"why don't we go back to my place and get you cleaned up?" she offered. "Steve's going to be in surgery for a while, and he'll be happy to see you clean," she said. Bucky pondered it for a moment, before agreeing, and letting Sam help him stand up, and the three of them slowly made their way out of the hospital, and into Nat's car.
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"can you tell me the last thing you remember," Nat asked as she washed Bucky's hair in the kitchen sink. "before the draft?" Bucky nodded, and thought back.
"i remember saving Steve from a fight behind some diner. i guess he had heard someone cat calling one of our old school friends, and decided to give him a piece of his mind. but, like always, he ended up black and blue because he never got the fact that he was 80 pounds and the size of a tree branch through his thick skull.” Bucky said, sighing as Nat’s nails scratched at his scalp.
“is he really going to be okay?” Bucky asked, his eyes focusing on some of the light blue paint on the eggshell white ceiling of Nat’s apartment.
Nat nodded. “he’s going to be fine. he’ll pull through, he always has, hasn’t he?”
Bucky nodded. “yeah he has.” Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat before he spoke again. “has he told you about the time when he died twice in one night?”
Nat shook her head, concerned. “no he hasn’t.”
Bucky chuckled quietly, his flesh forefinger tracing the plates of his metal hand. “he had tuberculosis. he’d had it a few times, but this time was by far the worst. he hadn’t been feeling well all day, and he was getting worse and worse as the day went on. Sarah helped as much as she could, but eventually she had to go to work, so it was just me and Stevie in the apartment.”
Nat helped Bucky sit up and wrapped a towel around his head, drying the freshly cleaned hair. Bucky continued talking while Natasha ran a wide toothed comb through his hair, trying to detangle it.
“it was around 3 when i noticed his breathing change. i monitored it for a little bit, but ended up falling asleep. about 20 minutes later, i woke up, and something didn’t feel right. i looked over at S-Stevie, and his lips were turning blue. i remember starting cpr immediately and screaming for him to wake up. i don’t know how long i did cpr for but eventually he came back, and was weak but okay. i was going to call his ma but he told me no, and to let her work, being the jerk that he was. i stayed in the bed with him, and around 4 it happened again. i’d broken a few of his ribs while doing cpr and i didn’t want them to puncture his lung, so i just started shaking him and slapping him. i pounded his chest, above his heart a few times as hard as i could, and eventually he came back. he was stronger, and his breathing was better and a little smoother, and i knew he’d be okay.
"i just..." Bucky said, looking down at his hand and sniffling. "i just remember holding him and not wanting to let go. i wanted to tell him then," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "th-that i-uhm..."
"that you loved him?" Natasha said, maneuvering his shoulder length hair into a braid.
"y-yeah," Bucky stuttered, tear burning his eyes. "i know we'll never be able to be open about it, or get married, but i just want him to know."
"well," Natasha said, tying the braid off with an elastic. "you may not be able to get married yet, but you're allowed to be open about it," Natasha said.
Bucky jerked his head to look behind him. "w-what?"
"gay marriage isn't legalized yet, but it's legal to be in a relationship with who ever you want, as long as you're both consenting adults." Natasha said as she climbed off of the stool behind him. "so, when he wakes up, you can tell him how you feel." she said, giving Bucky a warm smile.
before Bucky could respond, Sam walked through the front door of the apartment.
"he's awake," Sam said, a smile on his face as he looked at the other two. "he's still a little groggy, but he's going to be okay, and the doctor said we can go visit him."
a smile broke out on Bucky's face, and it grew bigger when Nat patted him on the shoulder to get him to stand up.
"we can take my car," Nat said, swiping her keys off of the counter top where she'd dropped them earlier. Sam made a rebuttal as Bucky walked over to the shoe rack and grabbed his combat boots. did he want to put them back on? no, but it wasn't like he had other options.
he slid the boots on, and followed Natasha and Sam out the door. the ride to the hospital was quiet. Sam and Nat discussed what they needed to do about Bucky, and Bucky kept quiet, trying to present as though he didn't care what happened to him, but on the inside, his stomach was churning violently.
what would happen to him? he asked himself. would the judicial system understand what he went through, and understand that he wasn't a bad person, that he was forced to do bad things? or would they see him as a violent criminal who could snap at any moment and send him back to a cell for the rest of his life?
bad thoughts like that continued to swirl in his brain as Natasha's car slowed to a stop in the hospital parking lot. his stomach started to do flipflops as he followed the couple through the hallways, attempting to find Steve's hospital room. would Steve hate him? he didn't seem to hate him on the riverbank, which must mean he didn't. Bucky really hoped that he didn't. he really hoped that the Steve he was about to see would be the same Steve that went through Project Rebirth, and then infiltrated a HYDRA base by himself just to save Bucky. he hoped to God, that nothing has changed his Steve.
they came to a stop in front of the door, and Sam and Nat looked at him expectantly.
"well?" Nat asked, with a smirk.
"well, what?" Bucky asked, confused, looking between the two people.
"are you going to go in and see your man?" she asked, and Bucky had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.
"he's not my man." Bucky stated, and Sam snorted from where he was standing beside Nat.
"man, you spent the entire time Nat was washing your hair talking about Steve. you proclaimed you were in love with him, and basically admitted you want to marry him. how does that not make Steve 'your man?'" Sam said, and Bucky looked at him indignantly.
"me confessing my feelings doesn't mean he shares those same feelings," Bucky said, his eyes turning towards the closed hospital door. "as much as I wish he did."
"well, you're never going to know unless you ask him." Nat said. Bucky laughed.
"and ruin a friendship with my longest, and now only, friend? no. it's better to keep my feelings to myself. it'll hurt less eventually." Bucky resigned, and Sam chuckled next to him.
"conceal don't feel, don't let it show, right?" Sam said, and both him and Nat cracked up. Bucky looked between the two of them, feeling as if he'd missed something.
"...huh?" he said, and Nat had to bite her lip to stop from laughing.
"nothing. go see Steve." she said, pushing his shoulder. Bucky nodded slowly, confused, but turned to open the door. he stepped through, his eyes locked on the floor.
"go get 'em, Elsa!" he heard Sam shout through the doorway, and furrowed his brows again, confused on what Sam was talking about, but his face relaxed when he saw Steve, sitting up in bed, reading The Hobbit.
"S-Steve," Bucky said quietly. Steve looked over at him, and Bucky felt nauseous as his eyes lit up and his face broke out into a smile.
"hey, Buck. how are you feeling?" he said, placing the book down. Bucky gulped. he didn't know what to say. what could he say to Steve? the last time he was fully himself and spoke to Steve, it was 1945, and they talked about their trip to Coney Island, and how Steve threw up after Bucky made him go on the Cyclone.
the memory, while there, was extremely fuzzy, the only thing he could make out being the small, skinny, and pale face of his Stevie.
Stevie, the only man he'd ever loved. he loved him when he was small, and he loved him after he got the serum. as much as he loved the thought of him sitting in their apartment in New York waiting for him to come home like a dame would, it made him even happier (internally, on the outside he was still mad) to have Steve with him, fighting beside him. he loved him when he didn't know who he was. he loved him when he didn't know what was love was, because that had been successfully trained out of him. he loved him when he was sitting alone in his cell, confused about the pull he was feeling in his lower stomach. he loved Steven Grant Rogers, and the thought terrified him.
the thought that Steve wouldn't return his feelings. the thought that Steve would be like all those super 'macho' guys that they went to school with, who believed anyone who didn't fit their narrative of a normal person, would go to hell, which made no sense. how was Steve any different from him? yet, he still got made fun of because instead of playing with his blocks, or building a tower, he chose to line them up, or make a circle with them. Bucky felt himself start to spiral, and the only thoughts in his head were "Steve""i love you""don't hate me".
they repeated over and over again. taunting him, begging him to confess, to make a fool out of himself, even though he has distinct memories of the two of them finding a young, gay, couple being tormented by an older man, and despite all the energy Bucky was exerting while beating the literal shit out of this oversized bully, the most prominent image in his head is Steve throwing the first punch, and then Steve asking the couple if they were okay.
instead of rationalizing with himself, his focus shifted suddenly to the buzzing in his ears. the pain in his chest. the black spots in his vision. the last thing he saw before he squeezed his eyes shut was Steve standing up and grasping his shoulders.
"Buck-" he heard. "Buck wha-"
"you sho-" Bucky wheezed, trying to pull in air to stop this horrid pain in his chest. "you should be laying down."
Bucky didn't hear Steve's response, the buzzing turning to ringing, and drowning out any and all noises other than the high pitched ring.
he reopened his eyes when he felt something warm and soft pressed against his forehead. his breath hitched when he saw bright pink, plump lips inches away from his own. his eyes zeroed in on the movement that they were making, before realizing Steve was speaking to him.
the ringing dimmed slightly, and other sounds were finally allowed inside his mind, and he quickly realized that the sensation was Steve's forehead pressed against his own, and why Steve was doing it.
Bucky was having an attack, and Steve was trying to calm him down, just like he always did. a lump formed in his throat and tears welled in his eyes as he felt Steve wrap his arms around him as the pain in his chest retreated slightly, and it became easier to breathe. his breath hitched as he came out from the attack, and tried not to collapse into Steve's arm like he used to. Steve, thinking like a Captain (always one step ahead), strengthened his hold on Bucky, and walked them back towards the bed.
Steve sat down, and brushed a stray hair away from Bucky's face, Bucky focused his eyes on Steve and sniffled seeing the soft and loving look Steve was giving him.
"it's okay," Steve whispered. "it's okay, baby." he said, and Bucky felt himself crumple. Steve wasted no time in scooping him up into his lap, and letting him nuzzle his head into his neck and cry out his pain.
he cried. he cried and cried, feeling 70 years of anguish pour out from his body as he was finally allowed to have emotions and express them. his hands fisted in Steve's hospital gown, curling up as he felt the pleasant warmth radiating from the thin material.
a few minutes later, his tears finally stopped, and he was then fighting to keep his eyes open. it wasn't that he didn't want to look at Steve, it was that he was just so comfortable. he was warm, he felt content for the first time in years, and he felt as if he could fall asleep right there.
"Buck?" Steve asked again, startling the half asleep soldier on his lap. "can you look at me?" he asked, but Bucky shook his head with a childish whine. he tensed once he realized the noise he made, but was pleasantly surprised when nothing happened.
Steve moved past the whine as if it didn't happen. his left hand started to cradle the back of Bucky's head, and his right began rubbing up and down.
"okay," Steve said. "it's okay, you don't have to look at me, but I don't want you to feel ashamed for crying or any-" he said before Bucky cut him off.
"'m jus' comfy." Bucky said sleepily, and Steve chuckled. he felt his right hand leave his back, reaching to grab something before relaxing back.
"okay, bud." Steve said. Bucky sniffled, before he felt a straw poking at his mouth. Bucky cracked his eyes open and accepted the straw, sucking down the ice cold water. he sighed in relief after, and went to stand up as Steve set the water cup down, but was stopped as Steve wrapped both arms around him, and the two of them laid back against the hospital bed.
Bucky whimpered, and snuggled closer. Steve chuckled, and Bucky listened to it reverberate through his chest. "missed you," Bucky said, keeping his words short, feeling the emotions build again.
"i missed you too, Buck. every day." he said, his thumb swiping over Bucky's swollen upper cheek.
"i'm sorry," Bucky said, the guilt returning. "i'm sorry i hurt you, i didn't want to, i-"
"shhh, it's okay. i know you didn't mean to." he assured. "nothing that happened was your fault."
Bucky just nodded, unsure what to say to that. while he knew those words were true, it didn't feel like it. they felt fake, like an attempt at cheering him up. he knew they were the truth, so why couldn't he bring himself to believe them?
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Bucky didn't know what to say after that, so he said nothing. he kept quiet, even when Nat and Sam came in. when Maria came in, and told them that Bucky could go with Steve, that her and someone named Fury would take care of getting him a pardon. with a name like Fury, Bucky certainly wasn't going to refuse the offer, not that he would anyways. going home with his Stevie, even though he didn't know where 'home' was, was certainly better than being alone in a cold dark cell.
he cuddled in closer to Steve, and listened to him discuss his living situation with Sam and Nat.
"my apartment's not safe," Steve said.
"it's just a window," Sam said, "we could get it fixed."
"no, it's not that, Sam." Nat said. "Bucky was there, the night Fury faked his death. if Bucky was there, then Rumlow and one of his other handlers was definitely there as well. it's not safe to send them back there, especially when we just brought down HYDRA and Shield."
"he had handlers?" Sam asked, and Bucky involuntarily shivered, thinking of Rumlow and Rollins.
"yeah," Nat said. "don't forget, i knew him when i was still in the Red Room. the handlers changed over time, but he always had 2 handlers with him. if you look at it from their perspective, it makes sense. even as the soldier, he didn't want to be there. they couldn't send him out on missions alone."
"yeah, makes sense." Sam said, with a sigh.
"where are we going to go then?" Steve asked, his hand still rubbing Bucky's back.
"i'll call Stark, see if that offer for a place in that fancy new compound still stands," Nat said, and he heard her stand up, and exit the room, likely to call Stark.
Stark...
that name sounded familiar to Bucky. he just didn't know why it felt so familiar. the thought remained on his mind until he drifted to sleep in Steve's arms, comforted by the sound of his steady, healthy heartbeat.
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longing
december. night time. long winding road.
rusted
the roar of a machine underneath the asset. 'look down,' the voice says. it complies. leather seats. the roar. motorcycle.
seventeen
white car. wooden pole. security camera.
daybreak
the asset pulls up beside the car. punches through the window. the car veers off the road, and into the pole.
furnace
target one crawling on the gravel, blood dripping.
nine
'Sergeant Barnes?' the target says. a name. it's name? no time to ponder. target two is crying for target one.
two punches for target one. squeeze of a throat for target two.
benign
hand. gun. security camera. point, shoot.
homecoming
the camera is destroyed.
one
metal case with familiar blue liquid.
freight car
mission complete.
well done, soldat.
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Bucky jolts awake. Stark. Howard Stark. he sits up. his head falls into his hands.
he killed Howard Stark.
'but,' he thinks. 'if Howard is dead, who is the Stark that they were talking about?'
his question answers itself when he opens his eyes, and sees and unfamiliar room. he looks beside him, and see's Steve sitting up to comfort him.
"w-" Bucky begins, but Steve finishes.
"we're at Tony's compound." he said.
Tony.
Howard's son.
"are we-" Bucky asked, and Steve nodded.
"we're safe, bud." Steve assured, pulling Bucky close to his chest. "we're safe."
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Bucky forgets about the dream by the next time he wakes.
he wakes up before Steve this time, and he just stares. he's pretty. so, so pretty. he suddenly wishes that he had paper and a pencil, so he could draw Steve. he was no art prodigy like Steve, but being in art school when he was younger certainly left him with some drawing ability.
he lifted his flesh hand, and traced it tentatively over his jaw. over his chin, around his lips. a chuckle startled him, disturbing his quiet admiration.
"i can feel that, you know." Steve said, opening his eyes, a smile cracking on his lips.
Bucky gulped. he could back out now, ignore it, pretend he's sleeping.
but he doesn't want to.
he can love whoever he wants now. he can love Steve openly, and without fear of being caught. and that was exactly what he was going to do.
"you're just so pretty, Stevie." he whispered. "wish i had a pencil and paper so i could draw you."
Steve smiled up at him. "i could grab you one. i'm sure i have a spare one somewhere."
"nah," Bucky said, shaking his head. "wouldn't do your beauty justice."
a light red tinge appeared on Steve's cheeks, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Bucky's thumb had a mind of its own, and rubbed over Steve's plump, pink, bottom lip. his eyes flicked up to meet Steve's, and unlike when kissing a girl, he felt no nerves. no uncertainty.
he felt safe, loved, comfortable. he felt at home. tears rimmed his eyes as he looked at the man he loved. the man who was once smaller than him. the man who he wanted to marry. to have kids with, to spend the rest of his days with.
the man who had only ever made him feel safe. the man who risked everything to save him, more than once. the man he'd been dying to kiss since he knew what kissing, and love was. since he'd realized he'd only ever felt it for Steve.
"'m gonna kiss you now," he whispered, his head dipping slightly. "is that okay?" he asked, not wanting Steve to feel uncomfortable, despite the hardness pressing against his hip which proved that Steve was far from uncomfortable.
"yeah," Steve rasped. he swallowed, his heart rate speeding up. "yeah, that's okay."
their lips touched for the first time, and Bucky felt as if he'd been born again.
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the-cash-cache · 1 year
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Had so much fun at @vampiricsheep‘s Mists Party yesterday! From four Scarlet Briars to some incredibly fun bar-tending (Jennah will never make me pay for my crimes!), the delightful chaos finished off with a free-for-all arena brawl with everyone taking sides to throw hands across the Mists. Pictured above are Ruficient doing a jig, Fíondorach, sleidog‘s @little-leaf-man​‘s Hosea Sleí, and my norn Aesa Skybrand!
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Aesa Skybrand made her RP debut this event, and the brawl was the stuff norn legends are made of. Pictured here with my good friend Majami Heart, whose dog Cosmo (a good boi) unfortunately had the unpleasant habit of eating me alive on the battlefield.
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Local madlad Grehgoryio (left) also dropped in for a drink and a fight!
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And on the red team, we have the devil themselves, Sheep, Majami (hidden behind the blood fiend), Necromancy Barbie, and Zori Sunblade!
Sorry I didn’t get Tumblr tags, please tag anyone you recognize!
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ahsoka-sinps-tano · 9 months
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The clones keep calling me shinny
IM NOT SHINNY
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tmvoldemort · 3 months
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🕯️
send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character. (Still accepting)
@motherfuckingmaneater
The parade marches down the narrow cramp lane. Their signs are cheeky but their message is clear. A union of voices carries upwards. It vibrates the windows above the magical shops. Merging together to reach the heavens and the angels on high to hear: “Enough is enough! We demand Squib’s rights.”
It would have been inspiring had the show not been made up of those types. The wandless and deformed of their world. The Unfortunates. A pitiful existence, with their bodies pressed together in a false sense of safety.
From the shadows Voldemort gestures across. Tuck behind the gap of a stall. Bellatrix nods. His message was clear: hold!
Her back to the wall. Wand at the ready. Each mirroring the other. 
His eyes linger on her for a moment. 
This was what made The Dark Lord admire her so much. He didn’t need to break down his wants. Have to guide her or shape her like the others. Not only could she keep up with him but adjust to change. A born warrior. Her own namesake.
It was not something one could teach. You had to be made for war. Have the blood of Spartans in your veins. A sharp mind and ability to make nano second choices.
The throng was turning. The leaders of the movement are already passing them both. 
“Hold!”
Not the front, Voldemort though. It would give those behind a chance to run. This was for maxmaine effect.
Bellatrix’s body jerked. Like a spider feeling a prey pluck at her silk. Despite her nature she listened.
The parade marched on. Unaware of the trap laid. Even as the normal shoppers sometimes boo’d. One Wizard chucked rotten fruit. Most merely looked in awe of the show. The main body of the parade reached them.
 The Dark Lord dropped his fist, “Now!”
Like a pair of hands in unionsate turn on cue. Their wands pointed dead center.
He gathers up five in total, their puppet-like forms toss into the air. They twirl like tops only to clash into the signs. They empty their pockets and bladders to rain below. Wounds form on their exposed skin. Bashing into each other and the windows. Showering glass on their scared allies. 
Bellatrix's spell exploded. The narrow street was a flash of fire and wood splitters. Thrown more across the space. A gray cloud covers the air. The explosion has his ears ringing. But blood lust courses through Voldemort’s veins. 
The screaming began, darting this way and that. Blind or deaf for a moment to know where to go. Or where the danger comes from. Voldemort drops those who happen to shoulder into him. A mass of panicked bodies. They turn to trampling each other. Only to be met by Death Eaters who heard their signal.
Duels start with those unwounded. At least those not in the Squib protest.
Leaving Voldemort and Bellatrix among the smell of fear and smoke. Emerging from the ashes. Dancing between the others to create a macabre show.
For once his attention swayed from his work. Pausing to admire Bellatrix’ skilled hand. Not just from the things he taught her. No. Of what she had expanded upon. Tuning it into her own style and honing on her strengths.
A vision.
It must be what it is like to stare into A Black Hole, Voldemort thought. Awed by pure chaos. 
“Aurors!” 
The alert goes out. 
Voldemort looks around the litter streets at their handiwork. Dropping his own victims. Their bodies crumple in a puddle.
“We shall leave.” Voldemort said, satisfied.
This was not an outright war but a message. A message for the commoners.
He turns and offers his hand to Bellatrix. The words fall out against his better judgment. “Come now Bella.”
A statement he did not mean so personally. Voldemort wouldn’t know he would refer to her as such from then onwards.
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cas-backwards-tie · 1 year
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Forever mourning the Vampire!Kylo Ren x OC rp that I have so many ideas for but no one to write it with 😂😭🙈😫
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fractured-hqpromo · 2 years
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We are in search of Mary Macdonald!
Fractured is an AU Marauders era rp set in the year 1981. There is no prophecy, therefore, Voldemort remains alive and the war continues to divide wizarding kind.
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We played a game today. The nature of the game was 'This nightbrother has force visions at the slightest provocation, and touching the stone tablet in the ruins gave him one. We want to know what it was, but we do not want to share the rest of the cache that we stole from him'.
You can imagine how well the game is going.
One of the nightsisters attempted to pry it from my mind. She is a drooling vegetable for the foreseeable future. None else have been stupid enough to try.
They will allow me to peruse the cache at my leisure, or, they will never know what I saw. A sith does not compromise.
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crowsandmurder · 7 months
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This is me throwing out a tentative James Potter starter call. Be patient with me. I've not regularly written James in like two years. He is one that I love though and have written for a decade. That damn James is a leash child woke him up. So, like for a James Potter starter. if you want a specific verse, feel free to specify.
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dimensionalspades · 10 months
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Strike-Commander Morrison
Since B.lizz hasn't given us further info on O.verwatch's timeline that I know of, I'll go over what's canon for the blog.
Jack was hesitant to accept the promotion, because in his eyes, Ana and Gabriel were both better picks. In the end, he decided to accept after some talking with core O.verwatch members, especially Gabe, Ana, and Gabrielle.
Aside from trying to manage the trauma from the Crisis, Jack spent a lot of the initial months trying to adjust to the position, leading to high stress and some blatantly wrong decisions on the political side. He was still a soldier, and that meant that he needed to take care of his people. Their lives and livelihoods were in his hands, and he took that seriously. Most of his early failures followed themes of unpreparedness, rash decision-making, lack of decorum, or just making the wrong choices regarding certain aspects of leadership. The public was slow to trust O.verwatch in the beginning due to this, but Jack continued to adapt and work through issues, throwing his entire life into O.verwatch.
Jack, for all his faults, was an unflinchingly kind man who spent most of his time campaigning for O.verwatch to help in the most affected areas of the world, often going head to head with some higher-ups over that. In addition, Jack was often embroiled in arguments with people who wanted to gear O.verwatch towards a more militaristic institution, as Jack found they would be better served with doctors and scientists. He still went on missions at this time, O.verwatch acting as ancillary or emergency help in other countries at first.
That continued as time went on, and Jack most often tried to keep this version of Overwatch at the forefront. He joined missions less and less because of the workload, leading to a bit of his own crisis as he asked whether or not he was still a soldier (whether he still wanted to be treated as a solider as he got farther from the battlefield). Ultimately, he still defined himself as a soldier more than a politician, though he tried to balance to two when the situation called for it. He pushed on trying to hire the best of the best when it came to doctors, climate scientists, and leaders both on and off the field. In many aspects, his most trusted people were Ana, Vivian, and Gabe, though the last relationship would sour as time went on and they fought more and more.
Despite his desire to focus on O.verwatch's medical and scientific teams, he couldn't ignore Talon. While Jack was kind in as much as he could, Talon was where most of his disdain went. He was glad to make an enemy of them, publicly denouncing them too many times to count and working against them at every turn. Though they were evenly matched in many ways, Talon tended to take the upper hand at times, given their lack of moral constraints. Jack dedicated as much time and effort to fighting Talon on all fronts as he could, though he still found time to argue for O.verwatch's cause in the meantime.
He was not infallible, and this includes many decisions regarding B.lackwatch and his refusal to either earnestly question Gabe or put a stop to certain activities/missions. And on more than a few occasions, Jack was happy to look the other way as B.lackwatch struck against Talon in some capacity. As much as Antonio's death wasn't one he shed a tear over, it was something of a wakeup call to what he was enabling. While he and Gabe had been at odds for a year or two by then, it only intensified when B.lackwatch was shut down. In addition to other stresses, Jack struggled to maintain things while Overwatch began to crumble.
However, he truly believed that he could reunite the warring parts of Overwatch at the conference in the Swiss headquarters, but that was demolished when the building was destroyed with them in it.
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negotiaetor · 2 years
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𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝙱𝙸 - 𝚆𝙰𝙽 𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙾𝙱𝙸 : a phenomenal pilot who doesn’t like to fly . a devastating warrior who’d rather not fight . 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐑 who frankly prefers to sit alone in a quiet cave & meditate . ━━ ind. role play blog for 𝑶𝑩𝑰 - 𝑾𝑨𝑵 𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑩𝑰 of george lucas’ star wars . influenced by film , televison , novels & headcanons . 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 & 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 . est. june 2020 . AS TOLD BY MEGAN . ©
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turkishdclights · 6 months
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would anyone be down to write against a kylo ren muse on disc? (no reys please)
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falcqns · 2 years
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before i watch yours
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZTduWLeau/
<3
i hate steve sm
rant tw
here’s the thing. i don’t hate steve. i love him. i think he’s a wonderful character, and was in the right virtually always.
but i HATE what he did to Bucky. you can say that Bucky was a grown man who didn’t need him but was he really?
think about it. the man was 106 after endgame. when he was drafted he was roughly 27/28 (not sure of the exact age). keep in mind, our bodies arent fully developed until we are 25, so this poor boy was just barely able to cope with what was going on physically.
now, lets think about what he went through.
80 years. 80 years of conditioning. conditioning is the scientific word for brainwashing, in a way (not always, conditioning can be a good thing, and its how we train animals to go to the bathroom outside, recognize certain code words, etc.). "the definition of conditioning is a behavioral process whereby a response becomes more frequent or more predictable in a given environment as a result of reinforcement, with reinforcement typically being a stimulus or reward for a desired response." (www.britannica.com)
in order to condition ones mind, a conditioned stimulus makes an organism react to something because it is related to something else.
an example of this is giving your dog a treat when they use the bathroom outside. before conditioning, the dog essentially only understands that the treat you are giving them is food, therefore the treat is the unconditioned stimulus, and them salivating is the unconditioned response. the neutral stimulus is using the bathroom outside, and then unconditioned response is no salivation from the dog, because to them, there is no correlation between the two.
so, whenever your dog uses the bathroom outside, they receive a treat, and the unconditioned stimulus triggers the unconditioned response. through conditioning, the dog begins to learn the correlation between the treat and using the bathroom, and soon enough going to the bathroom becomes the conditioned stimulus, and them salivating for a treat becomes the conditioned response.
we know that Natasha experienced psychological conditioning, so it is reasonable to believe that Bucky experienced the same. remember, a conditioned stimulus makes an organism react to something because it is related to something else.
we know that he went through horrific abuse and trauma whenever he was unfrozen, and another phenomenon that happens to our brain during something like that is that someone undergoes an event so traumatic that their brain literally cannot handle it, and basically the brain just deletes the memory because the pain and trauma are too much to deal with. You can ask them over and over about it or show them a video of it happening, but they just won’t remember. It’s a case in which their personal memory is fried. (https://www.quora.com/How-did-the-Hydra-scientists-brainwash-Bucky-Barnes-into-becoming-the-Winter-Soldier)
anyways, enough of the psychology part and back to Bucky bc im rambling.
Steve saying "i'm with you til the end of the line" in CATWS broke all that conditioning, and the brain just burying the information. whether Bucky understood in the moment what was happening or not, you can see, so clearly, the moment the conditioning leaves, and he recognizes Steve, even for the tiniest of moments.
he recognizes that this person is important to him, and he shouldn't be hurting him. he should be fighting side by side with him. he should be protecting him, just like he had been conditioned to do through simply being friends with Steve Rogers since childhood.
he was conditioned, through being friends with Steve to protect him, and he knew that he had to save him. he drags him out of the river, onto the river bank, and as soon as he's sure Steve is alive, he sees an opportunity to escape the terror, trauma, and abuse, and he runs for his life.
somehow (not entirely sure how), he makes it to Romania. working for a living, and barely surviving was another thing conditioned into him from an early age, and i believe it broke HYDRA's conditioning that much more. he was able to almost revert back to his 27/28 year old mindset, and focus on rebuilding his life.
then Steve shows up again, and he's thrown back into a fight. all he knew for 80 years before this was abuse, conditioning, and fighting. he didn't know rest, and he didn't know peace, and theres a very slim chance that he found that in Romania.
he loses his arm again, in what i can only imagine was a much more painful way (some of the wires were bound right onto his muscles and nerves) than on the train, considering he probably passed out from the g force of the fall, and doesnt remember his arm actually coming off.
finally, he makes it to Wakanda, and he fully reverts to his 28 year old self. he's in Wakanda for 2 years, so mentally, he ages to 30. keep in mind, the only familiar person he knows is Steve.
then, he fights again. he doesn't want to, but at that point it's pretty much expected of him, he thinks, so he does it without question. they lose, and he's gone for 5 years.
it's not 5 years for him, we all saw what it was like when Yelena dusted in Hawkeye. it was less than a second, and he was 5 years in the future, and fighting again. there was no mental aging there, but he's barely understanding whats going on (if at all) but again, he thinks its expected of him, so he continues and he wins.
they win, and i can only imagine the amount of relief he felt in that moment, and then immediate sadness because he cant express that happiness, and Steve just lost Tony, someone important to him, whether he likes to admit it or not.
the funeral happens, and no matter how uncomfortable it is, he bears it, knowing that after this, he and Steve will be free together, and he will be able to piece his life together after 80 years, with the only person who feels like home anymore.
whether or not Steve spoke to him doesn't matter. at some point, he realizes he's losing Steve. he realizes he's going to be on his own again, and expected to fight and make it on his own, when he literally has no idea how to. he's been pardoned, but that doesn't help the fact that he legally hasn't existed since 1945. Steve, however, has. Steve has an income, a place to stay, a life. Bucky doesn't have that, and for once in his life and friendship with Steve, Steve is the one taking care of him. or so he thought.
Steve leaves, and he's utterly abandoned. he knows no one in this century, and he's assuming his entire family is dead. his best friend/soulmate left him, and he's alone again. he doesn't have anything, and yet he is expected to present himself like he has everything when his everything is gone.
remember, mentally, he is 30. he was 27/28 when he was drafted, and was mentally 30 when he was fully free. at least he still has the shield, right?
wrong.
Sam hands it to the Smithsonian, and the government assigns a new Captain America, when Bucky was the one who kept the first Captain America alive.
the last thing he now has of Steve's is that tiny little notebook. a small book, no more than 200 pages. thats it.
a book is all he has left of Steve Rogers, when all he truly needed from Steve was Steve himself.
he needed him to be there to support him. he needed him to be there to understand, because mentally, Steve was older than him by that point.
Steve was freed from the ice in 2011, and he left in 2023. in that time, he aged 12 years, both physically and mentally, making him 38 in endgame, 8 years older than Bucky. Bucky wasn't freed until 2014, 3 years after Steve.
he may have been 106, but he was still young. too young for all the terrors he experienced. too young to be fighting for almost 90 years, and far too young to be abandoned by the only person he would stare death in the face multiple times for.
Steve is a wonderful character, but what him leaving did to Bucky was downright uncalled for, and i can't even blame Steve/Chris for it (theres absolutely no way Chris is actually okay with it by the way. i would love to know his actual feelings), i FULLY blame the russos/feige.
they could have had him in an off screen role in tfatws. they could have kept him as the one helping bucky through his trauma, not dr r*ynor.
both their characters deserved better, but especially Bucky. we all saw how sweet and innocent he was before the war, and its a damn crime we wont see that side to him ever again, because he was ONLY ever like that with Steve.
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