As a means of procrastination, I’ve been going down a rabbit hole of research about real life John “Bucky” Egan (mainly post war), and I noticed something interesting that I don’t think I have seen mentioned in the ‘Master of the Air’ Tumblr tags yet, so thought to share it, but apologies if I have missed it and this is common knowledge.
It also fits in well with the BAMF!Bucky, and highly competent and intelligent Bucky posts I have seen floating around in the last couple of days.
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Gale Cleven wasn’t the only physicist/physics nerd (affectionate) in the 100th. It looks like that Bucky graduated from Georgetown University a couple of years (1948) after the war with a bachelors degree in Physics. This is mentioned in the USAAF bulletin/obituary about his death/funeral, and in at least one newspaper obituary about his death too (I am pretty sure I found a second newspaper article that mentioned it, but I lost track of it). (references are in the hyperlinks and shown as photos attached after the read more cut off)
According to this newspaper obituary, before the Korean war [but after Physics degree? my assumption], Bucky was the assistant director of education (must have been good at teaching?) at the Air Force ground operational school at Southern Pines, N.C. He became a full colonel while there in 1951.
His military obituary also says that after Bucky came back from the Korean war (1950-1953), he attended the National War College starting in the summer (August) of 1957 and then by July 1958 was back at work with new orders – a year would be enough time for a Masters degree, although I can’t find any further publicly available information regarding what he studied there.
In the years between the Korean war and his time at the National War College, he was stationed in Japan and Hawaii.
(His Wikipedia page also mentions that before joining the USAAF that he also went to St. Thomas College in St. Paul, Minnesota, the only other source that says this is this newspaper obituary. No mention though of what he studied there.)
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So, Bucky like Buck probably had multiple degrees which I thought was interesting in itself, but of particular interest was the fact that one of them was in physics. So I am now imagining Buck and Bucky both geeking out about maths/space/flying physics (aeronautics) etc. (maybe to the exasperation of everyone else). Or did Bucky pick up his physics interest from Buck and did he then attend every one of Buck’s calculus classes in the Stalag, or did he help him mark the homework? Lots of potential fanfic gold!
Below the cut there are some of the references as images if you don't want to use the links
(Tumblr has made this one blurry - HD image via this link, but I have added the whole text to the image description if that is more convenient)
Worthy, bearded, Nomad Steve riding Alicorn!Bucky with the good hair 😉
for the @marvelartparty unicorn horde challenge
🦄🥳
Image Description, Steve close up, and bingo fills below...
[ID: Digital painting of Steve Rogers riding a jet-black winged unicorn and holding up Mjolnir as they fly into battle, lightning bolts shooting out overhead. He is fully bearded, his long hair flying out behind him, and is wearing his comic-book Nomad costume of blue and yellow; with a V neck cut all the way down to his waist, and a cape. The alicorn is Bucky transformed; his mane and tail are blowing wildly in the wind, his horn is a dazzling light blue, and his front left leg looks like plated silver metal. The backdrop is a sky in hues of blues, pinks, and purples. End ID]
reducing the full image to upload size made it very blurry, so here is a better close-up of Steve 😉
A commission for @not-the-cavalry, who wanted badass Bucky and competent Tony to save the day. Which they do repeatedly. And in their very own, special ways. Or, alternatively; 5 times Bucky is a total badass plus the one time Tony proves he’s still got it.
(You can also find this story over on AO3.)
- - -
1
“—will understand that I’ve been fighting on the right side all along. The United Nations is a symbol of oppression. An illusion that keeps us apart—”
Tony lets his head fall back against the wall with a sigh, wondering once again why the universe hates him enough to do this to him on one of his rare days off. All he’d wanted was to spend one quiet, peaceful afternoon with Bucky, but no, apparently they can’t even get burgers without some wannabe-villain—Flag Smacker? Flag Smasher?—deciding to take everyone in their favourite diner hostage.
He’s been ranting about the abolition of country borders in order to achieve world peace—while threatening to blow up a diner full of innocent people—for nearly fifteen minutes now, and Tony really wishes he hadn’t decided to go completely Iron Man-free today.
“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky mutters from next to Tony, rubbing tiredly at his face when Tony turns to look at him. “Is this guy for real?”
Before Tony has the chance to answer, Bucky springs up to his feet and advances on the guy with a shouted, “Hey!”
The guy swivels to point his gun at Bucky, but hesitates when Bucky doesn’t stop. It’s his undoing; by the time he’s aimed, Bucky’s already on him, landing a punch to his face with a crunch that makes Tony wince.
Tony glances down at the guy, writhing and moaning on the floor, then around the diner at the gaping people and, finally, up at Bucky. “Well. That’s one way of doing it.”
Bucky nudges the guy’s gun away with the tip of his boot. “All I wanted was a damn cheeseburger.”
2
“Iron Man, come in!” Steve yells over the comms, Doombots screeching in the background. “The Winter Soldier is injured, we need an extraction.”
Tony’s heart skips a beat and he speeds up, nearly clipping the edge of a building in his hurry. To his relief, Bucky is actually still standing when he finally spots him and Steve, though he’s panting and his prosthetic arm is hanging limply at his side.
Tony winces. “Shit.”
But then, before he’s even landed, Bucky charges at a Doombot, jumps up high, twists while still in the air and smacks the deadweight of his arm into the Doombot’s middle, sending it flying and crashing into the nearest car.
Tony raises an eyebrow at Steve.
Steve just sighs and shakes his head.
3
“You stabbed me!” the Hydra agent screeches at Bucky, before turning his incredulous gaze on Tony. “He stabbed me!”
It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes, even Tony is lost for words. After a moment, he manages to offer, “Well, you did wave a gun in his face.”
The Hydra agent almost looks like he’s pouting. “Cap’s never stabbed me before!”
“Do I look like fuckin’ Captain America to you?” Bucky growls as he stalks closer, twirling another knife between his fingers.
With a squeak, the Hydra agent moves to stand behind Tony.
Bucky smirks.
4
The Hydra base goes up in flames as Bucky’s walking away from it, not a scratch on him or a hair out of place.
Clint nods to himself. “Cool guys don’t look at explosions.”
Sam pretends he’s not laughing. Nat does grin, completely unashamed.
“Bucky, what the hell—” Steve starts, only to be interrupted by a chorus of, “Language, Cap!”
5
It’s almost embarrassing to admit that Hammer’s caught him off-guard, but, well. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. And, as loath as he is to admit it, Hammer isn’t a complete idiot and did strip Tony of everything he might be able to use as a weapon.
Which means Tony’s sitting in his cell in nothing but his underwear, shivering against the cold concrete, handcuffed and chained to the wall.
“What a pretty picture you make,” Hammer coos as he comes to crouch in front of Tony, grinning wildly and gun held loosely in one hand. “Now, you know the spiel by now, don’t you? We can do this the easy way or the hard way, blah blah blah. So! What’s it going to be, Tony?”
Upstairs in the warehouse, someone yells angrily and the sound of gunfire starts up.
Tony quirks an eyebrow up at Hammer.
“Nothing my men can’t handle,” Hammer dismisses, going for confident, but his hand twitches nervously and he absently licks his bottom lip. “Now, Tony. The blueprints. Do you have any idea—well, it’s you, so of course you do.”
He straightens up, pacing in front of Tony, free hand on his hip. “And since you’ve decided you’re too high and mighty to build things that actually matter, that make a true difference, I thought I’d be so nice and take those plans off your hands.”
Somewhere above them, something blows up.
“The blueprints, Tony!” Hammer hisses, a little wild-eyed now. When Tony stays silent, he moves closer again, curling a hand around Tony’s throat. “What, nothing to say? Don’t get tongue-tied now. No need for modesty between old friends.”
The cell door comes flying inwards, making Hammer jump and whirl around, gun raised.
Bucky allows himself a moment to take in the scene in front of him, then points his own gun at Hammer’s knee, teeth bared in a snarl. Unlike Hammer, he has no qualms about pulling the trigger.
Hammer flinches, but recovers quickly when nothing happens. “Oh! Oh, this is just perfect!” he laughs giddily. “Did you lose count?”
Still cackling, Hammer continues to tease, but Tony isn’t listening, too busy trying not to laugh at the look Bucky is shooting him that very clearly asks, “Is he fuckin’ serious right now?”
Tony just shrugs and then does laugh, loudly, when Bucky gives a shrug of his own and throws his empty gun right into Hammer’s smug face.
“Hi, honey, nice of you to show up,” he says, still grinning, as Bucky steps over Hammer’s unconscious form and comes to kneel at Tony’s side. “Took you long enough.”
Bucky snorts and rips open the cuffs. “Everyone’s a critic.”
+1
Tony allows himself a day of being the worried boyfriend, sitting at Bucky’s bedside and holding his hand and watching his ashen face, before he pulls himself together and gets to work.
They’ve known the identity of the head of the smuggling ring for months, have intercepted countless shipments of alien technology, but actually pinning it on the guy in charge has proven incredibly tricky. There’s always been someone to take the fall for him, some evidence that vanished under mysterious circumstances, a witness who suddenly changed their mind about testifying.
It’s been infuriating and frustrating, yes, but now? With Bucky hurt and no one sure how long it will take him to recover? Now, it’s personal.
Getting an invitation to the party hosted by the politician’s son turned hustler is a piece of cake; he knows the government as well as the Avengers are after him, but he’s also convinced he’s untouchable and that has made him cocky.
Having Iron Man attend his little shindig? Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
The scans and frisking before he’s allowed into the mansion are expected and he smiles good-naturedly through the whole process, cracking jokes and readily handing over his phone, wallet and watch to be confiscated. And once he’s inside, things couldn’t go any smoother.
He small-talks and networks, laughs and flirts, and happily accepts when Rami, the guy he’s after, asks him for a dance, letting him lead them out onto the floor. They chat idly the first few minutes, both extremely aware of who they’re with and what kind of game they’re playing, but eventually Rami breaks.
“Your friend, Sergeant Barnes,” he says, all feigned compassion, “I hope he’s well?”
Tony smiles with maybe a little too much teeth. “Expected to make a full recovery, but thank you. Your concern is appreciated.”
It’s when the song changes to something slower that Tony gets his chance. Their bare hands come together as they resettle into position and, with a quick, featherlight tap of his finger against Rami’s wrist, things are set in motion.
And Tony doesn’t have to wait long. Rami cuts himself off mid-sentence only a few seconds later, frowning and blinking rapidly. Tony puts on a mock-sympathetic face. “Feeling a little hot, are we?”
Rami, to his credit, catches on immediately, hissing out, “What did you do?”
“Nothing yet,” Tony says with an innocent smile, tightening his hold on Rami when he goes to pull back. “But, as we speak, nanotechnology is making itself at home in your body. Not an issue in general, quite the opposite,” he drawls and lets the brandnew Bleeding Edge armour curl around his fingers, watching in satisfaction as Rami’s eyes go wide. “But should it, let’s say, cause a blockage in a major artery? Or rapidly expand somewhere it isn’t supposed to? That could, indeed, cause some trouble.”
“What do you want?” Rami demands, through gritted teeth, and Tony beams as he chirps, “Look me in the eyes.”
Rami’s confusion melts away as soon as Tony activates the Iron Man HUD lenses, morphing into absolute outrage. He’s smart enough to stay quiet, though.
“A confession, if you’d be so kind,” Tony says as he begins recording. “Not that it will be necessary, the nanobots will be deep in your phone and private servers by now, but showing some measure of regret always looks good in front of a jury.”
With everything activated, the Avengers as well as SHIELD and the FBI will already have been alerted and be on their way, a live feed of what Tony sees and every bit of information the ‘bots dig up getting sent to all their electronic devices. Whether Rami confesses or not is irrelevant, though Tony certainly enjoys watching him fume and squirm.
But then, after a few moments, Rami starts talking.
And if Tony snags a bottle from behind the bar as he leaves? Well, he’s pretty sure no one’s going to say anything, given the circumstances. And Bucky does like his whiskey.
Not just because of the HYDRA but because of the many many memories, tangled together. Thousands of years all bound by his memory, different names, genders, religions, races. He remembers them all yet none of them.
He remembers being Veles, the Slavic god; Tezcatlipoca, an Aztec deity; Anulap, a god of magic in Truk Island mythology; Hecate of the Greeks; Baba Yaga of Russian folklore; a witch in eastern Europe, over and over again; a witch in Salem, burning bright with the flames of stakes.
He remembers it all.
Most of all, he remembers Tony. Not always named that, not always looking like he does now, but he remembers his soul, bright with creation. His wife, companion, husband, lover, forever love.
He remembers it all and none of it.
It’s confusing, so he runs. He gets on a plane, then a train, then a bus, and ends up in rural Azerbaijan, surrounded by mountains and old, abandoned villages. Something is tugging him there, so he sets a base in one building and goes off to explore.
It feels strangely familiar as if he walked those streets before, and when he stands on top of the mountain, with the sun slowly setting around him, he knows where did the memory come from. He looks down, takes a deep breath and throws himself off the ledge.
For a second, there’s only wind and quietness, but then his memories surge up and James takes a deep breath of the cold, mountain air, before calling his magic to him and changing shape.
A raven soars over the hills and James’s mind heals.
He lets out a happy sound and lets the wind take him, over the familiar mountains and long-abandoned villages. Over paths lit with magic and old stories, forgotten for generations. James soars and feels free.
It’s something he forgot about, but now it sings in his blood. A witch cannot be tamed, cannot be bound. A witch of Old Magic is always wild.
James relishes in his newfound freedom and his mind drifts to Tony. His Tony, who exists in this world, who is as brilliant as always, a creator to the bone.
There’s a reason why he was the deity of creation so many times, even without direct magic in his soul. They’re tied together and James knows he’ll come back to him. Sooner or later he’ll come back when he puts himself back together enough to protect his heart. His little genius.
He flies for miles, never tiring, magic surging in his small body, thousands of years of memories slowly starting to set in their place.
James remembers their last meeting, how small but fierce Tony was, how curious. How his soul recognized James’s, even amidst the magic and darkness of the All Soul’s Day. If he could smile, he would.
There’s something soothing in seeing the lands below him pass, in the cold air of the wind, of the Old Magic of the Earth. James can feel it calling to him, the skies rejoicing that he’s back. It feels like coming to the childhood home, not quite where his heart lies now but filled with good memories. He flies and flies and his magic trails behind him, a bright blue hoe on a black sky.
He thinks of Tony and his heart sings, anticipating their meeting, even as he lands and gets lost in the small, people-filled cities near the rivers. James soaks up the atmosphere, builds himself back, brick by brick, learns to smile again. There’s a lot that can’t be fixed so soon, even if his months of travels, but it’s a start. He’s not scared of himself anymore.
James starts to practice his magic again. Helps the villagers, makes flowers for the girls, makes butterflies from his hands, heals a pregnant woman. He heals others and by that, he heals himself.
It feels good to be useful again. He’s always been a helper, even as a god. Put on the Earth to aid humans, mortals, in their short lives. Make it a bit easier. He feels more like himself, more like Bucky Barnes, more like Veles and Anulap, like Evelyn of the Rhear village, helping her neighbours with her gentle magic; like a witch.
It’s good.
He comes back to Irland, where he traces back the steps of druids he once belonged to, visits Newgrange and spends the winter solstice there, laughing when the rays of Saturn and the Sun warm up his core. He revisits his many roots, takes from the Earth and gives back.
Eventually, James visits Peggy Carter who’s old and weak but her spirit is strong. She remembers him as the witch, not as Bucky Banes, but James just smiles and presses something into her shaking hands.
“You remembered,” she says softly, watching the small stone statue with gleaming emeralds emerge. James smiles bitterly.
“It’s a work in process.”
She just laughs. “You’re a good man. A good witch. It is my time, isn’t it?”
He sighs and squeezes her hand with his metal one, so reminiscent of the black one he always has. The price of his magic. “It’s close,” James admits.
Peggy just nods, content. “I had a good life,” she tells him. “I love my husband very much, and maybe I’ll meet him this time.”
James looks at the energy around her and chuckles when he notices the fierce pink hue around her heart. “He loves you too, very much. I don’t know the future, but you’re strong. Sometimes it takes a bit of waiting.”
“You know something about it,” Peggy snickers. For a second, his magic works and James sees her as young and beautiful as she was during the war, dressed in her uniform. It makes him warm.
“It’s worth it,” he replies.
“I know.”
They sit in silence some more before she stirs again. “It’s time for you to go,” she says. “Thank you for visiting.”
James laughs and kisses her forehead. “I had something to return to you.”
They don’t say goodbyes, they’ll meet again. Sometime.
He leaves, feeling lighter than he has in years, and then promptly escapes New York before Steve can find him. James remembers him, he really does, but he’s not ready to come back yet. There are things waiting for him still.
This time, he doesn’t take the plane, he just changes into a raven and flies, for miles and miles, watching as land turns to water and then back to land again before the Andes start towering over him. There, James finds his old path and lands on a ledge.
The old kingdom stretches below him, bright green and pulsing with life. James can feel the pollution of humans who have no idea just how old and powerful those lands are, so he sits down and breathes slowly.
His magic stretches over the jungle and the earth welcomes him, recognizing him even with centuries that have passed. James smiles and lets himself get lost in slowly healing what’s broken. Countless souls come to kneel before him, and then go home, where they belong.
It’s exhausting, but also rewarding, healing something so old and powerful, fixing the damage of years of abuse.
He gets a piece of himself there, a bloody and important one.
The piece of a fierce witch, drawing with blood on people’s faces, standing in the flames and laughing in the faces of gods. Someone bold and cruel, someone capable of anything. It’s not pretty, but James feels stronger, with his dark parts and bad memories.
There’s a weight on his shoulders when he leaves but he stands straighter.
It takes James a few months, and it feels simultaneously like seconds and forever. After all, what are months next to eternity? And what are months while waiting to be reunited with your heart?
He doesn’t hurry though, because he knows Tony will understand. It doesn’t matter if the man remembers because even if he does, he’ll understand. His love is incredibly forgiving and kind. It only makes James love him more.
James keeps tabs on the Avengers, smiles and huffs at Steve, stares at the image of Tony Stark on a shitty TV deep in Bulgarian mountains, smirks when he sees another HYDRA base destroyed. He does his fair share of destroying and dismantling, but it’s not a priority now.
All he wants to do is gather his pieces, glue himself back together and get back to his love.
It’s only right that the day he deems himself right enough is All Soul’s Day. Now called Halloween, he knows, it’s cliche and tacky and the power cracks in the air. Nature doesn’t forget, and neither does James.
He gets on a plane and lands in New York well into the night, and it’s only there that he realizes that something is wrong. Someone is using magic, Old Magic, and using it wrong. James growls when the Avengers appear on the screen fighting and old woman. A wannabe druid at that.
James rolls his eyes and then gets to work.
At the end of the day, he has Tony Stark in his arms, smiling into his neck and his heart feels whole. James doesn’t kiss him yet, because it’s not necessary. Their souls know each other, this meeting a mirror of their last one, and James just closes his eyes, rejoicing in the moment.
The Joy of Little Things by obsessivereader, Sealcat
"Do you want me to eat you?"
“No, but—” Steve broke off his instinctive response. All his life, he’d believed in doing what was right… he was not about to stop now. Wincing at the prickling pain in his feet, he straightened up to his full height. “Yes. If it means you’ll leave this place.”
"But you don’t look very filling." The tip of the dragon’s tail twitched. "I don’t suppose you’re a virgin?" he asked hopefully. "I’ve heard they taste better."
Steve gritted his teeth and refused to answer. The dragon could very well find that out for himself. He stared at the dragon. The dragon stared back. Then the dragon got up, turned around, and went back into his cave.
"Well? Come on, tribute."
or, how Steve ends up working for a dragon with a very odd sense of humor
My December Holiday Bucky pinup! A digital painting I created earlier this year for the @marvelartparty print-your-own 18-month calendar project.
A full-res version for personal use / printing can be found here, and you can find the ordered full set of available calendar pages here, running all the way through to Dec 2021.
All were lovingly created by a variety of artists, with different styles, characters, and moods. Hope you enjoy them!
This piece also filled squares for my @buckybarnesbingo and @hellyeahbottombucky bingo; the fill-info for which I already previously submitted via the archive.
Click here to view all 3 of my calendar pinup posts 🙃
Who is the country - leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) - Captain America - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63089350
Steve was supposed to meet Bucky outside the automat at two. Yet here Bucky was, listening to the two fifteen train clatter past over his head with no sign of Steve.
A late Steve meant a half decent chance Bucky would find him somewhere he probably shouldn’t be, like down an alley, behind a bar, under a dock with the tide creeping in. Could be a fight, could be a litter of abandoned kittens, could be carrying an old lady’s groceries, but whatever it was?
