i’m following midnighters now and the authority was like the first comics i got into yeaaaars ago and midnighter & apollo are my precious sons and i need to reread that shit and make an apollo indie or smth
This post is so long overdue, but I’ve just been too tired to think about it. As is probably obvious by now, I AM ON HIATUS. School is kicking my ass but I’m in the final stretch and should be back on here soon getting to my replies. I miss all you lovely people very much and hope your lives are going swell. <3
Bucky raised his head to meet Steve’s eyes, hypersensitive to Steve’s fingers tracing the spiderwebs of scars around his shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt,” he assured, voice low so as to not break the calm of the room. “Not really– not anymore.”
“Is that because you haven’t wanted one, or haven’t found the one you’ve been looking for? I’m not about to tell an omega that they need an alpha to be happy.”
@volatilehammond | drabble meme: very selectively accepting (like, might have to wait a million years for a response, send at your own risk)
BREAK ME: ANGST DRABBLE.
It blindsided him, more than anything.
No, that wasn’t true. It hurt, like his soul was being torn in two, to see TJ unresponsive on the floor like that. It terrified him as he dropped to his knees at the man’s side - practically a boy, compared to all the years Bucky had spent on this earth and all he’d seen. A sweet, young thing, chewed up and spit out by a world that made him this, that left him here, in a pool of his own sick and hardly breathing.
“No, no,” Bucky whispered, as if that would stop this, as if sending prayers up to whatever God was listening would fix TJ. He’d come looking for him and he’d known it wouldn’t be pretty, but he hadn’t expected this. He’d thought maybe TJ would snub him, act like a brat, maybe even refuse to see him if he was still mad about their fight. He never thought he’d do this, put himself and his family in this position again.
Put Bucky in this position.
(Had he already had whatever he’d taken lying around? Was this something that had been going on under his nose, without him even noticing? For how long? How could he not have noticed? How could he have allowed this to happen?)
He was wrenched away from security and realized he was shouting now, like yelling for TJ to wake up would block the receptors in his body that were being overwhelmed by the drugs, that were shutting down systems TJ hadn’t intended – god, how Bucky hoped he hadn’t intended for this to happen. He’d give anything to take it all back, knowing now what he’d done to TJ.
(He would’ve given anything to take it all back before when he just thought he’d made him sad.)
The guards were making all the right calls, taking all the right actions. Knew what to do as Bucky froze up in his grief. (He was better than this. He couldn’t think, seeing TJ like that, and what if those few seconds had cost too much? Why couldn’t he stop making this worse?) They were taking him away, taking him to a hospital, and Bucky was left in the middle of the deserted room, still on his knees.
All he had left was the hope that his luck would be better than it had in the past. That TJ would recover, that Bucky would help him through every step he needed to take, even if that meant backing off. Taking the problem out of the equation, even if he was that problem.
Anything would be worth it, just to see TJ smile one more time.
Bucky sucked in a breath as her fingers trailed up the scar on his thigh. It had been a nasty injury at the time, he could still remember the knife slicing up his thigh and more blood than he’d known what to do with, but his handlers had shown up in time to fix him right up, leaving him with the pale, raised scar tissue that led right up to his groin. “What’d you find there, sweetheart?”
He watched her trace the scar along his chest, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I think I got that one back on one of our missions; do you remember? You patched me up.” He didn’t have a whole lot of cherished memories from his time as the Soldier, but those moments with Natalia were always treasured.
[ txt ] Are you trying to start a prostethic-fetish nudie mag? ‘Cause that right there would make for a good cover photo. [ txt ] Not interested in modeling, though.
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