𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾ㅤ 𝕖͟𝕘͟𝕠͟ ㅤ𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝. @menaticide - Tumblr Blog

( ben barnes. 106. he/they. cis-male. ) are you a HERO? something tells me that cat fur on a leather jacket, an ache that won’t go away, flinching like a dog in a thunder storm make you who you are, JAMES ‘BUCKY’ BARNES. with the powers of SUPERHUMAN PHYSIQUE, you’re sure to have a adroit, phlegmatic personality — and you definitely belong to SHIELD. were you listening to YOU WANT IT DARKER by LEONARD COHEN on your way to the subway? it suits you.

#reshielded:intro #incase ur curious.. my url is a reference to the word menticide

rogueann:

“oh don’t worry– she pisses me off too, i just make fun of it.” she said with a slyly giggle. she knows it means but sometimes those things makes her laugh a little bit. “yeah sure, give me your phone.” she hands her hand over to james.

“we should make a club. the anti-sandra club. we could get matching jackets.” he’s quick to pass it over, peering at her actions in an attempt to commit her actions to memory. and maybe he can’t help but ask a stupid question or two. “not that i think we should try it out but i’m curious; does your ability only work on skin? or if i touched you with the arm, would it recognize it as part of me? or would it mistake it for like... a toaster? rogue, am i a toaster to you?”

#rogueann #i. rogue.#i. writing.

agentcarter:

a frown covered her face as she listened to bucky talk for far too long. what was he even talking about? after a moment, she looked at him quietly, her eyes narrowed a little. “what the hell are you talking about? how are you not going to say the internet is the best modern invention?” she asked. “you need better things to do with your time.”

maybe he should just be grateful that sharon listened to him— she definitely had better things to do. “name one good think about the internet. one of the little shield interns showed me thirst tiktoks and if i’m honest, i think the torture sessions were worse.” overly dramatic & layered with sarcasm, he can barely hold back a laugh, “i do plenty of better things with my time like... — reading. gotta catch up on all the books i missed. actually on that note: can you explain to me why they made three hobbit films? they didn’t need that many.”

#sorry hang #how on EARTH did u get that url???? UR POWER!?#agentcarter #i. writing.#i. sharon carter.

chairdood:

yes, peter has mentioned that barnes could be scary. however, ned is simply fearless when it came to the topic of invention. and kitchen implements. there’s just profound confidence with ned when it came to it. “what about swiss army knives versus splayds? what are your thoughts on that?”

“you. i like the way you think.” it’s frankly a 50/50 shot of if bucky listens to things peter has said. and maybe he’s grateful that for once, he listened. because ned leeds? big fan. “i’m not going to eat with a swiss army knife— i mean, i could. i have. weird time. but in terms of practicality? amazing. great invention. screwdriver, knife, bottle opener... plyers? all in one? amazing. incredible. oh, if you want some good advice: don’t get them engraved. when you wash them, you can’t properly clean them properly and then the engraving gets rusted and you ruin the whole thing. i’m starting to see why peter talks about you so much— you’re kinda cool. got any cool inventions? or invention suggestions?”

#chairdood #i. writing.#i. ned leeds.

hamdashi:

“isn’t that just a swiss army knife, but for culinary purposes?” tadashi rattles his brain for more knowledge that he might have of this … splayd .. but comes up empty and he shrugs. “well, it definitely has more practical usage, being related to food. i would agree with you on that end, then. you seem .. passionate about it, too.”

there’s a very long pause— processing the concept of a culinary swiss army knife. “now that you’ve said it— absolutely yes. how did i not think of that? you are a genius.” this has quickly become the most interesting conversation he’s had all week. “i mean you could eat food with a swiss army knife. you’d have to be a little desperate and also a little weird because i’d just use my hands but i think it could be done. & you gotta be passionate about something! i think a good knife is interesting. you— what are you passionate about? got any interesting thoughts to share?”

#i. tadashi hamada.#i. writing.#hamdashi

redwingwilson:

“yeah, i’m really starting to regret asking your sad ass over,” sam says. “plus, the spork is like, objectively better. or is it some kind of masochist kink of yours to try not to stab your cheeks every time you use one of those things? honestly, with all the knives you cart around with i’m sure you can use one in a pinch along with the proper combination utensil, the spork.”

“you say that every time i come over. it’s always ‘come over’ and then ‘why did i invite you’ on repeat forever. get a new line, wilson.” it’s an unrealistic argument, one that defines their friendship. he rolls his eyes, preparing to continue the ridiculous point he’s failing to make, “am i meant to eat with a normal fork and a bayonet knife? almost all the cutlery i own is plastic anyways— that would just be weird. just because i put a knife in the dishwasher one time doesn’t mean i’m using it for normal purposes. besides, it was a sheepsfoot blade— i’m at least sixty percent sure you can put those in the dishwasher. and just because you heal like a normal person, doesn’t mean i do. maybe i do sometimes cut my mouth with a splayd— which also, even if it was a kink, i would not discuss it with you— it isn’t a problem because i heal like a cool person. you just... suffer for days with a mouth bite, i assume.”

#i. sam wilson.#i. writing.#redwingwilson

wrmchne:

“ oh , you poor man . ” rhodey says . “ who told you facebook was one of the best inventions of the modern era ? that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard . ” he’s never been a social media person full-stop , but — well , the only things he knows about web design are from osmosis , and even he can tell the ui is shit . “ but also , splayds aren’t that great . a classic case of trying to do too much with not enough space — they’ve got nothing on those chopsticks that turn into a fork and knife by changing what’s stuck to the end . ”

“in my defense— it was stark who said it. and now having said that aloud, i’m starting to think it might have been on purpose.” if the ever-present petty revenge for the brutal murder of his parents is tricking barnes into thinking facebook is the best thing in the world— he can live with that. as embarrassing as it is. “i’ve never had a sentence take me on such a rollercoaster. i’m a little mad about the splayd insult but i am far too intrigued by these magical chopsticks. do you twist the chopstick and the fork comes out? or do you swap the head in and out? i have questions. also— where do i buy them? i need them.”

#wrmchne #i. writing.#i. james rhodes.

bettyonair:

“is this like an ad for splayds? are you their spokesperson or something, because you’re kinda doing a good job. personally, i’ve been more of a spork kinda gal but you make a compelling argument. though, i think the best modern invention are cotton candy grapes.” betty plucked a grape out of the box and held it between her fingers, carefully examining it like it was a precious jewel before popping it into her mouth. “like how is it possible for something that tastes so good be actually be healthy? that just blows my mind.”

“i mean, i’m not but good to know i have future career options in splayd selling. do you think i could find a company that sells splayds and ask to be their spokesperson? bucky barnes— splayd seller!” he eyes up the grape with a suspicious nature— if you’re going to poison something, why a grape? fuck it. grape in the mouth. followed by several other grapes. if they are poisoned: hell of a way to go. he’ll die happy. “if i have a career in splayd selling— you have one in selling these. follow up question: who invented these and where do i thank them? i think my life just changed. i think you just changed my life.”

#i. betty brant.#bettyonair #i. writing.

rogueann:

rogue sat back on her chair and nodded. “ well if you don’t like some things you just don’t follow them on social media, you can just follow the things you enjoy knowing about. don’t have to be bitter ‘bout sandra’s brunch.”

his arms fold, a friendly scowl on his cheeks, “i’m going to lock you in a room with sandra and then you’ll see just how annoying she is — but, uh... that’s not a bad idea. except for the part where i don’t know how to unfollow people. one of the interns at s.h.i.e.l.d. made my account & followed a pile of people... & i have no idea how to actually use it. any chance you know know how to use instagram?”

#rogueann #i. rogue.#i. writing.

buryeden:

“Oh, no, it was the front door,” Niko says, a furrow of his brow that innocently corrected the detail as though it was something so simple. The lightness of it was mocking, down to the genuine crinkle of his nose. Its intention would only be masked to someone who was none the wiser, but James knows better. He knows more than Niko. He pauses, a small tilt of his head as he plays upon his words. He had chosen the scramble of terms, playing on a feigned barrier between languages that still sat on his tongue when he spoke. It was one of the other flaws, the way the Red Room hadn’t been able to eliminate that accent completely. “Or maybe the right word would just be entrance. There wasn’t much of a door left.”

He listened intently to him, unsure of where exactly it is that James stands. Niko’s interest is peaked, wondering if he’s really a hero or he’s just pretending to care. So many stand on one side out of necessity, but he’s pushed hard enough to find that their motivation is weak. Some belong to the other side defined by conflicting morals, and some belong no where at all.

“The widows don’t claim me,” He corrects him. “So therefore I ask without a conflicting perspective on their behalf, where does your morality point? Your superiors are gone from both ends, good and evil. What are you doing with your life now, then?”

he can’t help but laugh just a little. sounds about right. there’s definitely been a few blown out doors. and buildings. & maybe he’s a little proud. it’s interesting— watching how the remains of hydra & the red room have progressed; the evolution of it. splintered out factions of former assassins and killers trying to piece their worlds back together.

“didn’t get invited to their party, nishen’ka?” there’s a bit of a mean undertone but nothing that he knows niko can’t handle. “it’s still pointed in the direction of murder is okay. some people are irredeemable. traffickers, serial killers... a cannibal or two. new york’s shit. always has been. — lotta shit like that. still tied to s.h.i.e.l.d. in a sense but they’re not a huge fan of the ‘kill bad people’ motto. mostly that. still trying to catch up on everything i’ve missed— truly thrilling to be all but dead for seventy something years and finally feel like i’ve caught up; only to vanish again for four years. seems everything’s getting worse, y’know? makes you wish for the good ol’ days when we were just brainwashed assassins.”

#called my mother after 20 unbroken minutes of me trying to remember how to make a diminutive so thats how this reply is going #nishen’ka is definitely more on the mocking side of diminutives.. like what u call a toddler yknow #its affectionate AND derogatory #niko vc: the widows wont let me in the treehouse #i. niko constantin.#i. writing.#buryeden

“everyone keeps telling me that facebook & instagram and all that crap— best inventions of the modern era. you’re all wrong. the clear answer is the invention of the splayd... the only correct use of social media is telling other people how cool splayds are. i don’t want to hear about sandra from work’s fucking brunch again. i want to talk about a knife-spoon-fork combo.” ( * @reshieldedstart )

#no valentines day only jellys thoughts on splayds #reshielded:start

dsyjohnsns:

ever since her mother died … for a second time , daisy tried to … honor the woman where she could - even with something as simple as the sort of dresses jaiying had shown daisy the first time around . and she looked … pretty ? she thought - no , she hoped. because she’s out with bucky barnes and it feels good : and she doesn’t want these little moments to end .“ i was gonna give you a bite of the mooncake regardless - ” she informs him , but eyes get almost rounder with innocence , daisy nodding quickly .“ but i’m not gonna say no to that offer . ”

he scoffs, overly-dramatized & feigning insult, “the least you could do is give me two bites then.” he’s pulling off the leather jacket & carefully passing it to her, trying to tell himself this isn’t the start of a shitty rom-com because it isn’t. people like him don’t get a happy ending. “now— mooncake me. i haven’t had one in... like eighty years. when i was growing up, one of our neighbors was this thai couple and whenever they made mooncakes, they’d give us some and in return we’d give them sufganiyah whenever we made it. obviously, this is pre-great depression because who was buying sugar then? — i really feel like i’m aging myself by saying this.”

#dsyjohnsns #i. daisy johnson.#i. writing.#old man™

buryeden:

“I left quickly. I’m sure I’ve made up for it if I didn’t.” It’s a lie, but only because of the glaze over the truth that only made it easier to swallow— not that he’d have to buffer anything for James. If anyone was holding it back, it had to be him and there was an unsettling feeling about not being the most aware in the room, even if the room was as wide as the skyline from where they stood on the roof.

He shook his head, a small pace beginning as Niko finally moved from his position. It was draped casualty, some need to stretch his legs and give into the itch to make some form of movement, but he was casing where they stood. He was taking a glance at all the angles around them, looking for where to hide to claim complete isolation if it was needed. He was used to being watched, but it didn’t make him any less conscious of it.

“I’m botched,” He reminded him. “What they made me with may have been similar to the widows and to you, but it’s not the same by a long shot. Mortality is all the same. But morality? I’m trying. I think there’s very little of it now, though, and it’s stale.”

they’re both predators, trained & honed to kill. circling each other & waiting for the other to make the first move. for as much as niko says the words botched, bucky isn’t going to underestimate him. botched doesn’t mean docile. it doesn’t mean weak or unwilling to kill you. “sure shit. you think i’m that dumb? they’re not just letting people stroll out of there. trying to tell me that you escaped out the fucking bathroom window or something?”

so he keeps watching & studying— having faced and underestimated karli, he’s not interested in repeating that mistake. he’s seen the danger that rogue super soldiers can cause (and he’ll include the damage he caused in that), & new york has enough shit going on without the little wolf spider causing chaos.

“—— niko, i’m giving you one nice warning. for old times sake. if you end up in my crosshairs, i’m not going to hesitate. city of dreams or what the fuck ever; you can go play with the widow squad belova has set up and hunt down the remains of the red room or fuck around and start up a shitty etsy business. i don’t actually care. but if you start getting your shit in the wrong places, i’ll put you down like a dog. so lets hope that your stale morality is pointing in the same direction as mine.”

#my laptop shut down midreply and let me tell u i HATE it here #rip to my og reply its been real babes #buryeden #i. niko constantin.#i. writing.

dsyjohnsns:

(@reshieldedstart ! )“ so maybe i underestimated how cold i’d be in this - ” gestures towards her outfit , shaking a bit .“ regrets . i gottem - wanna share this mooncake with me ? ”

this is the first time his brain has frozen since coming out of cryostasis. he’s more confident doing down the path of murder, hunting down his past. but standing here— on a date that isn’t a date because it can’t be a date because there is simply no way that daisy johnson would agree to go on a date. it’s a friend date. friends go on dates. it’s daisy johnson on a friend date in a dress that’s making him glue his eyes to her face because otherwise he’s going to blush. “do you want my jacket? i’ll trade you. i get a bite of the mooncake and you get to stop being cold.”

#you post this!? and expect me? not to respond!?!?!!#dsyjohnsns #i. daisy johnson.#i. writing.

mcgregor

Billy Russo in Marvel’s The Punisher, Season 1

#jewish king i love u #the (begins counting) seventh gif....#fire tw #explosion tw #knives tw #blood tw #i. bucky barnes.

lttlebrnes:

( @menaticide ! ) woman struggles to unload her grocery cart , having done the shopping for her roommate ( who was also her ex - it was kinda weird , but they made it work ) , and - is that her cart rolling away ? “ fuck ! ” rebecca hisses , it rolling towards the man and she’s just trying to get the damn rice bag into the car . “ sorry , shit - shit , ” practically drops the bag into the car before running after the cart , before blue eyes fall on … him .

“ bucky !? ”

it begins like this: they needed more soup. so bucky volunteers to go, sulks off to the supermarket and comes out with a pile of boring cans and some bread, all while shoving a peanut butter cup into his mouth so that steve does not know he didn’t get him one too. he’s cramming the cans into the underseat compartment of his motorcycle when someone yells.

he hears her before he sees her. and it’s familiar, a little bit so. but there’s nine billion people on the planet— of course, someone might have a similar voice to his dead sister. it’s a reflex, grabbing the trolley to stop it before it hits him. and it’s then that he sees her.

“— what the fuck?” it’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth. it’s the only thing that is in his head looking at the face of someone who should be dead (a little hypocritical since he should also be dead). but it can’t be her. it can’t be rebecca. or the even more terrifying possibility that it is her. but it can’t. he won’t even consider that possibility. “who the—”

three options: 1. she’s the grandchild or what-the-fuck-ever of rebecca who just happens to look uncannily like her. status: unlikely but possible. 2. some stalker who’s stolen his sisters face to get his attention. status: even more unlikely. 3. this is some plot by a) hydra or an even worse b) shield to control him and this is not his sister but a clone or someone with her face. status: most likely. proceed with option three.

so he takes a second & it really is almost her. but that isn’t her eyes. rebecca is a dark eyed creature that mirrors him in every sense. she’s a drowning void that could sink boats and engulf landmasses with the darkness that lays in them. this woman isn’t her. so he’s collected & cold, highly aware of the knife tucked into his boot when he speaks. “walk the fuck away. if you think i’m not above killing you in front of a supermarket, you’re wrong. whoever the hell sent you— hydra, remains of the kgb— fucking shield ; i don’t care. go back to your handler and tell them you can’t find me. this isn’t worth dying for.”

it ends like this: you’re going to kill your possible sister in the parking lot.

#man just wanted soup cmon nova #i. rebecca barnes.#i. writing.#lttlebrnes

americanhero:

@menaticide

Steve Rogers had lived many, many lives–far more than any man had any right to live. He had been a child of the Depression, a sickly, dreamy child his parents could barely afford. He’d been a noble-visioned orphan, an art school drop-out with nothing tying him down, desperate for more. He’d been reborn the first time in a military lab in New Jersey; he’d woken again in New York City decades after he should by all rights have died. Then, when he’d thought it was over and his time was up, after he’d run out enough lives to warrant canonization, he’d come back. This was his last round. He was sure of it. He hoped. He didn’t know that he could handle another life after this one.

But, through all those lives, he had had one single constant: Bucky. His brother, his best friend, the only person still a live who remembered when Steve was barely five foot four on a good day and would snap in a strong breeze. Bucky, who had come back from the dead himself one time too many, who Steve had taken in in their last life, who had taken Steve in in this one.

Bucky, who had had an entire bedroom for his cat, a fluffy white-coated thing who refused to relinquish her claim. Here he was, the man who had once been Captain America, sharing a bedroom in a cheap, poorly-decorated apartment with a cat. (He couldn’t tell Bucky that he did, actually, love her an awful lot. In all his lives, he’d never had a pet. He’d been allergic, then he’d been busy, then he’d been dead. But if he only had one shot left, maybe they weren’t so bad.) It was peaceful, though, when she wasn’t hogging all the pillows for herself. Domestic, even. Normal, almost. They could sit on the couch, Alpine perched in his lap, Steve stroking her absently as he flicked through the TV. Why were there so many streaming services now? He hadn’t been dead that long–how had they made so much TV while he was gone? It was overwhelming, and his little post-ice catch-up journal had vanished with the rest of his things after Thanos.

The door shut, and Steve looked up towards it as he heard footsteps. Alpine stood up in his lap, too, and let out a chirp. “Hey, Buck,” he called. “Did you know they remade Sex and the City? Why did they do that? Wasn’t once enough?”

so maybe this isn’t how he expected his life to go. the wide-eyed eighteen year old living in brooklyn that was barely scraping by never would have seen this coming. but for all the changes, all the terrifying and terrible things that happened, he still somehow ended up again by steve’s side. despite everything. even between the brainwashing and the murder attempts, steve stuck by him. where everyone else would have rightfully turned and high tailed it out of there, his brother stuck by him.

and now, as far as bucky is concerned— his biggest problem is the fact that alpine is a traitorous bitch who’s picked a new favourite. maybe he doesn’t actually care how steve came back. he’s got his friend back. and this is somehow almost what he’d expected when he’d been a kid. living with his best friend and working a shit job. for all hydra tried to take everything from him, it didn’t work. he’s still got steve and that’s all that counts.

“why did they even make one let alone another?” he calls back to steve, keys dropping & kicking his boots to the corner of the room. coming home to more then just alpine & soap is more comforting then he expected. that he isn’t alone anymore. his eyes fall to the traitorous cat, his fingers rubbing softly over her head as he trudges past & sprawls next to his best friend on the couch, “i hate all this new media. westworld? why bother remaking a good original? the first film, as the kids would say: it slapped. death to reboots.”

“speaking of death: didn’t they kill big? absolutely absurd. he was the highlight of that show. suppose they did milk the hell out of it. two television shows & two films. i think we should stop fighting actual villains or whatever & move onto beating up whoever keeps greenlighting reboots.”

#me using gifs from westworld as bucky rips on westworld #i. steve rogers.#i. writing.#americanhero

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