A Demon

James Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. Ex-Howling Commando, ex-HYDRA weapon. { Indie Bucky Barnes roleplay blog; tracking demonofwinter; multiverse and multiship } Both mun and muse are 18+

[ablackwidowsbite]

"I should have been there."

Send “I should have been there.” While examining one of my muses scars [Accepting] 

@demonofwinter

Natasha looked at him with his hand on her shoulder. “It is okay. It only hurt a little. But I survived. You know I am a survivor.” She held up her wrists to the scars on her wrists from the Red Room. “Even if you were there. I would have rather them attack me then you.” She touched his cheek softly. 

[demonofwinterrp]

Bucky’s frown deepend at her words, mouth tugging down and eyes darkening, even as his pupils contracted. “I know,” he agreed softly, because how could he not? But it didn’t make seeing the scars any easier. Shifting his gaze from her shoulder to her eyes, Bucky reached out to touch her neck lightly, thumb sliding along the side of her jaw. “I would rather be watching your back, from a roof or from the field,” he countered in a murmur, tilting his head into her touch.

[sfaq-archived-blog]

“Things didn’t exactly go as planned, but I’m not dead, so it’s a win.”

@demonofwinter

“I guess you being alive would be an upside yeah” He rose a brow watching the other “What exactly happened?”

[demonofwinterrp]

“You guess,” Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just say there were a lot more men than I expected, and way more explosives.”

[stillfeeluncomfortable-deactiva]

Escape

There were stories about the Winter Soldier. All the girls knew about the most dangerous trainer. Many of them feared to train with him, knowing that there were no longer the safety of their mentors. If they died during battle, then they went out at his hand.

Their program had started with 28 girls. And down to now only 8, the girls knew their training was progressing. They were well trained Widows already, but the glory of the title and the honor of the motherland were too great.

Natalia had learned more from the Winter Soldier than any years in the KGB could have taught her. After the first month of training, she was a weapon. Most of their fights went quietly; she’d keep to herself just as the girls were told to. Didn’t once touch his metal arm to ask for any kind of break, or release. If she found herself in a tight hold, she took it.

Once, had she expected death. The cold metal was pressed around her neck and stopping the flow of air. She had expected to die at the receiving end of a fight, but never during her training. And it was only once the blacks started from her eyes that she was let go and fell to the ground coughing for air. He had let her go.

And anything she felt for her trainer, she swallowed. She knew the rules. No communication. No feelings–shut them down, as they become a weakness. One the Solder would play on. Only her feelings grew. Slowly, Natalia found herself yearning to know more about the trainer. She knew what it seemed, falling for the most dangerous man that had ended the life of three other girls in the program. But not hers. No, he had spared her life.

Another month in, had mastered the defense. It was rare that Natalia fought against him on the offensive, not wanting to hurt him. And the only way to make it out from the elegant room was to block ever punch, dive every kick, and dodge any swing that would mean she had failed.

But one kick and he had to collect his physique, and Natalia could see she had a shot. Any of the other girls would have taken it. Any weapon would have taken it, and Natalia’s fighting instinct came in. Her fist was clenched, pulled back, and then shoved forward for a clear punch that could have knocked any man unconscious.

And she stopped just mere inches from his face; she couldn’t do it.

@demonofwinter

[demonofwinterrp]

The Soldier was more impressed with the remaining 8 than he had been with the starting 28; they had weeded out the weakest, the worst of them. Ones that had no hope of carrying the honourable title of Black Widow. They had to have loyalty, be able to kill without hesitation. These 8 were good, but they needed the best. The Soldier was there to ensure that was what they received.

In the beginning, there had been one, who had impressed him over all; she had been quiet and skilled, though she kept it silent as her footsteps, only showing the true extent of her knowledge in fights. She was fast, strong, ruthless; the Asset had expected her to go the farthest, watched with thinly desguised interest as she fought the other girls and trainers. Valyeria.

Winter never fought her himself, but he made sure he was the one to end her life. It was a strange thing in his chest, the weakening of steel that he’d felt. Something stirred loose, released; he had taken her neck and head in his hands, felt nothing but the faintest tremble as she knew what was coming. She had met his eyes daringly, never looking away, never flinching.

The snap had been loud, and he could feel the shocks in his fingertips for moments afterwards.

He had taken Natalia after that, began training with her. She was the next best, and now top of the program, even with only 8 left. The best of them all, and she was more likely to become the Widow every day. Only once had he doubted her, metallic fingers curled around a delicate neck, bones beginning to crunch under his fist. Watching as the darkness entered the eyes, her breath leaving the body, airway stopped up.

Letting her go.

He had no reason as to why he’d done it, and immediately following it they had reset him, until he was staring out and ready to comply once more. They made sure there was no weakness.

They hardly sparred in these roles, her attacking, and he defending. She was getting better, though he still moved faster, his dodges and movements more fluid. Well oiled, a machine moving exactly to code. But she unbalanced him (a flash of surprise here, and he was impressed, no mistaking that) and now had a chance to end the fight, to best him now.

And she had stopped.

Winter righted himself quickly, eyes calculating, cold and flashing. Honing in on this moment of weakness. A Widow who couldn’t pull the trigger, couldn’t throw the last punch, was useless. Silently he leapt at her, knocking into her stomach and grabbing her wrists, pining her under him. “Why did you stop?” Winter growled, clearly displeased. Nearly angry.

@stillfeeluncomfortable

[heartrate]

i’m interested in stargazing and rough sex

[kaciart]

wildthorberries answered: maybe a little smooch between steve and bucky in their military uniforms 8)

-

(I think tomorrow I might throw up a new prompt post for people now that they’ve SEEN the movie - but we shall seeee~)

[demonofwinterrp]

continued from -> here

@hawkguy-clintbarton

Originally, Clint was downstairs with Wanda feeling a little bit useless. Cause like, damn! The girl has power. Naturally, they make a good team. He distracts, and then she uses her badass power to obliterate the enemy. But that’s also ok, cause it meant the amount of hospital visits had gone down for him.

And it also meant when they heard some unfavorable noise from upstairs, and he got a terrible feeling in his gut, he was able to go forward and leave everything to Wanda without a worry. He knew she’d be able to handle herself no problem.

And luckily he did, because he arrived in time to see Bucky weapon less and on the floor. He quickly ran to stand between Bucky and the man with two weapons- talk about excessive. And now, he had his bow aimed at the man, but he cast a glance back at Bucky, “Hey Bucky, you aren’t looking so good, huh? So just relax. I got this covered and you look pretty beat up.” He turned his attention back to the villain with narrowed eyes, releasing the drawstring to let the arrow go flying forward, and then being deflected.

He cursed and aimed two more, firing them simultaneously, “Least, I think I got this.”

Before, there’d have been no chance for laughter during a fight; he’d be serious and shut up, locked into himself. Instead, he was chuckling as Clint swore, pushing himself up to sway a tad unsteadily behind the archer. “Yeah, you really look like you got it all under control,” he agreed, sarcasm dripping from the words, but a grin giving him away.

He started edging to the side, tracking the man who was now attempting to track them both. Clint’s arrows trained on him, Bucky circling to his back. He had to either move or be vulnerable, and neither seemed to be favorable. Bucky could all but see the frustration building.

The man jumped, threw one blade towards the softness of Bucky’s belly, causing him to swear and switch movements mid-step, his bruised knee protesting weakly as he dodged the blade, scrambling to catch it instead. He flipped around to search out Clint, listening for the hum of the bowstring, for the muted thud of an arrow splitting skin.

[iskupleniye-deactivated20230506]

“I love how amazing these past few weeks have been, but I need to tell you something. I have a child and I want you to meet her.”

That… Was unexpected. “Okay.” Natasha said, taking it in stride. She smiled at him, touching his cheek. “Are you expecting that to scare me off?”

@demonofwinter

[demonofwinterrp]

An answering smile spread across his features, full of relief; sometimes people just couldn’t handle Tessa. “You’d be surprised,” James replied, shrugging slightly. “If you’re free this afternoon, we could pick her up from school together. She knows I’m asking you today,” he quickly assures her, because he never would bring someone around Tessie without her consent.

@krasnyytsarina

[military-life]

[vdoviism-archive]

“Yes.” Natalia nodded her head with a small smile on her lips as she looked up at the man. She knew he would be shocked, hell she didn’t even know for sure if that was the best idea of them all, but how could she deny it? How could she not stare at mothers holding heir childrens’ hands as they passed her on the street. She had always wanted babies, even if the Red Room’s programm denied her this opportunity.

“I don’t know how long the consequences of the surgery would last, I don’t know if they were permanent or temporary.” Natalia admitted “It doesn’t have to be our biological kid, though, we could always adopt.”

She bit on her botom ip, not really knowing what to say next. he woman just sighed and ran her fingers through her hair in a frustrated manner “I’m not saying ‘NOW’, I just waned to let you know that I want to have a child with you.”

[demonofwinterrp]

Bucky sat quietly for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, of where to go from this. Children were a big commitment, and even if it wasn’t now, even if it was ten years down the line... Could they do that? Would he be stable enough to help care for a child? There was a time where he wanted nothing more than to escape the battlefield, come back home, find a steady job and settle down. Now he felt almost as if it would always come to fight; he was meant to have died, and when he didn’t, he was made to live on carnage and fighting. Some days it felt as if anything else was impossible. Could they manage to have a child in that? It might mean quitting the business, retiring. Standing down, finally.

She was frustrated, he could see that, and he didn’t know how to soothe it. Still he stood, moving over to her, wrapping his arms around her. Pulling her in, placing his lips against her hair in a small kiss. “We have time to think about it, Natalia. Time to discuss and make choices,” he agreed in a soft murmur, thumb moving in gentle, absentminded strokes.

They were a good team, he was certain of that much. They could raise a child together, could make it all work out; perhaps not now, but someday. At the very least, they could try.

[demonofwinterrp]

*notes Yasha* * might be pleased to see him, but doesn't make that obvious*

*notes Volke in return* *gives him a small nod in acknowledgement, before gesturing for him to approach*

[littlered247]

bucky’s face im crying

[chronically-ill-dandy]

Originally posted by gifsboom

[demonofwinterrp]

00:00:00

 In a universe where everyone is born with numbers on their wrists counting down to when they’ll meet their soulmate, send me 00:00:00 for my muses reaction to their numbers hitting zero when they meet yours.

Bucky’s numbers had always been low. His parents had put a good spin on it, told them it meant his soulmate would be someone he knew for a long time, and he’d get to meet them sooner than his other classmates and friends. His sisters were jealous, even baby Carrie, only five and complaining about waiting ages to meet the perfect playmate. They would wonder what his soulmate was like, if she was shy or fierce, if she’d be in his class or if they’d meet on the playground. It was always assumed his soulmate was a girl; the alternative wasn’t really spoken about, although it happened all over.

School had started up again, and Bucky was only ten; his numbers told him he only had a few days before meeting his soulmate. He was at a new school this year, and he walked there with determination, dead set on making friends. It worked, for the most part; he played with a few other boys from his class, but didn’t branch out.

When his numbers hit an hour, he felt his stomach drop out, same as riding the Cyclone at Coney Island. Bucky walked home slowly, looking all around him, nervous as hell; what would she be like? Would she have red hair like Taylor, a girl in his class, or big blue eyes like his Momma? The questions made him curious, and he wondered, too, about her personality. Would she be funny? Would she know how to make him laugh?

His train of thought crashed off course when he heard a scuffle coming from the next alleyway. Curious, he peeked down it, seeing two older kids picking on some boy, stick thin and pale as death. He was down on the ground, but it seemed like he kept getting up, and the older boys were laughing.

The timer ticked down.

When they threw the boy into a dumpster, Bucky got angry, went down the alley hollering at them. Unimpressed, they merely moved on, and Bucky seethed for a moment before throaing himself into the dumpster, too, so the boy wouldn’t be alone.

His timer hit zero, with a shock up his arm, and Bucky looked down in amazement, before looking at the boy with the same wonder. You, it’s you, he thought, a tinge desperately.

@littlebrooklynboy

[journey-into-suspense]

I love the little subtle hints of a romance brewing between Scarlet Witch and Vision in Age of Ultron!

Makes me excited for when Avengers 3 comes out and it’s revealed that Vision has a family he never mentioned at all and Scarlet Witch falls in love with Thor for some reason.

[clintasha4evr]

The amount of bitterness in this post gives me life.

[demonofwinterrp]

"Don't touch him"

Bucky was silently cursing himself now, knifeless and stuck in hand to hand with someone with far better weapons. His vision slightly impaired thanks to a cut on his forehead, dripping blood into his eyes, no matter how many times he swiped it away. Telling Steve to go on ahead with Sam, running after their main prize, he’d thought he’d be fine; then his knife had gone out the window, and he’d been weaponless while his opponent had two. Two. What fucking overkill.

Still, he was holding his own, aiming to get one of the blades away and into his own hands. He was more than capable of it. When his knee got viciously kicked out from under him it had thrown that plan off, left him scrambling.

Now there was Clint.

Blinking more blood out of his eyes, he looked up in mute surprise, having thought Clint to be with Wanda downstairs. Not here, defending Bucky. Stepping inbetween him and an attacker. “Clint,” Bucky managed, getting to his knees, attempting to stand so they could at least fight together. It spoke legions about Bucky that this move had him feeling a little warmed. He’d been a lone soldier for too long.

@hawkguy-clintbarton

[manwiththesilvertongue-blog]

In a universe where everyone is born with numbers on their wrists counting down to when they'll meet their soulmate, send me 00:00:00 for my muses reaction to their numbers hitting zero when they meet yours.

[thecaptainwiththeshield-blog]

"Are you okay?"

@demonofwinter

1.) After A Fight

“I’m fine,” Steve muttered, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. 

[demonofwinterrp]

Bucky raised a disbelieving brow, every line of his body showing amusement. Any worry was hidden deeply away. “Yeah, you look it. Should see the other guys, huh?” He teased lightly, even as he trailed his gaze over Steve quickly, scanning for anything worse than bruises or small cuts.

[demonofwinterrp]

“What are you doing in my room?”

It’s the middle of the night, and my muse just climbed into your muse’s bedroom window.

Send me “What are you doing in my room?”, and I’ll generate a number between 1 and 25 for what my muse will say to yours.

It was getting to be embarrassing, the number of times this had happened. Less than twn, over three, and Bucky was cursing himself as he clambered into Nat’s room, scaling the side of the house like some goddamn monkey. He cursed Barnes, too, because he was certain that Clint was the reason for this. It was always Clint. Always.

Swearing in multiple languages, the most frequent being Welsh (because he was the only one in the house to speak Welsh, and it sounded wonderfully like wizard) Bucky heaved himself in, knowing Nat would be up, but expecting her to be downstairs still. He landed in a crouch, huffing with annoyance, pushing hair away from his face.

When Nat spoke he inwardly groaned, fearing the endless, gleeful chirping that was bound to follow. Bucky could no more lie to Nat than convince Tony to dye his goatee. “I lost my house key again.” He grumbled irritably, pushing into a standing position, because he felt ridiculously uneven in this situation. World’s deadliest assassin for decades, and he loses his house keys, constantly.

Life really was an uphill battle.

@imablxckwidow