Where We Rot: Series Masterlist [P.P]

You’ve just been awoken from cryogenic sleep so that scientists and doctors can finally cure your fatal condition. Then you learn it’s been 57000 years since you were put in cryogenic sleep.

Dad Material

Request:  Could you do a Bucky x child reader where she is like 7 and some one tries to hurt her like hydra and Bucky protects her, and goes into his winter soldier mode and she gets scared of him after she sees what he can do. But it ends in fluff? :)

Bucky x Child!reader

Warnings: violence, fighting, abuse

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here it is!

Heads up: @missallpony1234 @thecynicalnerd @heismyhunter @waywardimpalawriter @misspadfoot02 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @rachelle-on-the-run @i-had-a-life-once @lilasiannerd @transdadlovesyou @aenna-4 @buckyb-avengers @amrita31199 @shamvictoria11  @soldierplum

It was a trap. Bucky had realized it too late as the door shut immediately and he was plunged into total darkness. He hurriedly zipped open a secret pocket in his vest and reached inside. He took out a small pill and dry swallowed it. Bucky then radio’d the rest of his team,

“Abort. It’s a trap. I repeat abort,” he calmly informed them, “Save yourselves and pick me up later.”

“Bucky where are you?” Sam asked through the intercom.

“Don’t worry about me just get the hell out of here!” Bucky replied.

“The weapon though? Is there no weapon?” Sam asked.

“No indication of any weapon. The information given to us was false. Now get as far away as possible,” Bucky answered.

“Steve isn’t going to like this,” Natasha’s voice went through.

“Blame it on me,” Bucky said when the door burst open. Bucky took out the communication device in his ear and smashed it.

“We missed you,” a voice said. Bucky prepared himself for a fight. He raised his gun when a small figure entered. Bucky’s vision blurred and he blacked out.

Keep reading

What are some chronic illnesses that can only occur in a fantasy setting?

You were born into a family of demons who escaped hell to live a normal life under humans. Your parents told you never to use your demonic powers. That is until you’re kidnapped by a serial killer of your hometown who you decide to teach a lesson.

Love Me to Death

✧ Pairing — Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Fem!Reader

✧ Summary — The Avengers compound receives a new recruit. She’s a siren who can make anyone fall deathly in love with her with one word. Bucky immediately takes interest in her as he discovers she’s mute, for good reason of course.

✧ Warnings — light angst, hints to past trauma, mentions of bucky’s trauma, hints to PTSD, hints of anxiety

series masterlist ✧ inbox open

You would never get over the view of the Atlantic Ocean. The way you found yourself getting lost as your eyes focused further and further into the distance. The way the earth curved, the way it appeared the ocean just dropped off. Nobody could ever know what went on out there, what happened when there were no wandering eyes. The secrets that the water held, the dark beauty that painted the waters.

Of course, this wasn’t a goodbye forever— just for a while. You couldn't help the pain that formed in your chest, the way your eyes watered at the last view glimpses of your home.

"You about ready to go (Y/n)?" Fury asked from the sand below.

You turned your head towards him, not missing the quick flash of guilt that passed through his expression. You turned back towards the water, taking one last deep breath in— the crisp air filling your lungs.

"If everything works out the way it should— you'll be back here soon." He reminded you, and you knew that was an estimation.

It was the best outcome that you'd return— but the chances were slim. Considering everything, this might as well be the last time you'll ever set foot on this rock, looking at this view that you'd grown to love so much.

You stepped down from the rock, standing next to Fury with a solemn look. You shook your head and avoided his eyes, you couldn't seem to come up with a good answer— so you shoved your way of communicating in your pockets. Plus, you didn't feel like signing a bullshit response— you were upset and you had the right to be.

"Remember I'm not the bad guy here, and neither are you. This is just how things need to be for a while." He reminded you, trying his best to make this feel less forced.

You gave in and signed the only thing you could come up with for now.

I know. You signed before you shoved your hand back in your pocket.

He gave a tiny smile, one that didn't seem genuine but you didn't seem to care too much.

“I don’t know why I have to be here.” Bucky grumbled, running a hand through his hair in stress.

Natasha rolled her eyes, giving Sam a smack on the head to wake him up. He was falling asleep on the couch when it wasn’t the time.

“Rude! I was sleeping.” Sam complained.

“Don’t care— and Buck you need to be here. We are receiving a new recruit.” She explained.

Bucky let out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders— wondering why Nat. thought he cared.

“We always receive new recruits. What’s so different about this one?” He wondered, earning a stare from the redhead before she replied.

Her features grew serious, all kicking and joking stripped from her face.

“This one is enhanced… and deadly.”

His eyes widened and all at once he understood his place now. He was here when things went wrong— the expendable one. Although it made his jaw clench, slight anger running through his veins— he nodded in understanding otherwise.

Natasha seemed to read him without him having to utter another word, she immediately backtracked.

“God, it’s like I can hear you thinking— you’re here because you’re part of the team. Everyone, including you is meeting her.” She corrected, watching his features soften slightly.

“How do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes in defense.

She was always able to read his mind, hell— everyone’s!

She laughed, shrugging her shoulder— avoiding to answer his question to mess with him.

“She’s a woman, of course she can read your thoughts. They all can.” Sam added from the couch, trying to drift back to sleep.

Natasha threw a pillow at Sam’s face, taking him by surprise.

“Oh shut it Wilson.” She mumbled, with a roll of her eyes.

“Ow! Why’re you so violent today?” He asked, sitting up and walking towards the bookshelf in the living room.

Natasha smiled to herself, taking his words more as a compliment than an insult.

“Everyone else will be here soon, but seriously— I know you know what it’s like to feel like an outsider when you first showed up here. I want you to help her out, okay?” The redhead asked, earning a scowl from him.

“Why me? Everyone at some point has had to feel like that too— c’mon Nat! I was just starting to settle down here, almost have a little routine for myself. How do you know she won’t be afraid of me— I’m sure she’ll know who I am.” He rambled on, complaint after complaint.

The redhead rubbed a hand down her face.

“I’m not asking you to marry her— just help her out, while she’s settles in.” She told him.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get out of this. He nodded, but kept a scowl on his face. This was not how he expected the day to go.

Soon enough, Fury was walking a surprisingly pretty woman into the room where all the Avengers either stood or sat waiting.

It wasn’t supposed to be a dig, Bucky only assumed she’d be less… pretty— with the way Natasha had described her. Deadly. He was expecting a more disturbed, haunting character— not this beautiful face.

“I’m sure all of you have heard whispers here and there— so this isn’t entirely new to any of you. Well… maybe some of you.” Fury mumbled, looking in Sam’s direction. “You are receiving a new member. She will be an amazing addition to the team— powerful and will help keep you all alive.”

Everyone said hello, waving and sending warm smiles her way— Bucky could only imagine the nerves of this woman with all the staring.

She seemed to be holding up quite well, in fact— she seemed glum. Her face was sagging with defeat every so slightly— enough for Bucky to notice of course. He immediately felt drawn to her distress, wanting to know the cause of it.

“Now, as all of you noticed. She doesn’t speak, and will not speak unless she is to do so. Meaning while in a mission, or any other situation where one of you are in danger.” Fury explained.

Bucky couldn’t help the frown that formed in his face. It felt wrong to listen to Fury talk about her like she was an object and nothing more— just a weapon at their hands. He felt uncomfortable, and almost like a flash in his quick blinks— he suddenly remembered the same feeling back at HYDRA. All of a sudden— it was personal.

“Can I ask why she can’t speak?” Natasha wondered, voicing what most of us were thinking.”

It felt weird to talk about her like she wasn’t standing right in front of us— but she didn’t seem bothered by it. Guess you wouldn’t be bothered either, after years of someone speaking for you.

There was that uncomfortable feeling again.

“Yes, that was the next thing I wanted to discuss.” Fury started, letting the woman take a seat beside him. “(Y/n) is a Siren. One peep from her and you all would fall under a spell. A love spell, you could say.”

Everyone went silent, taking in the new information. Nobody knew how to react— as nobody had experience with a Siren before. In fact— mostly everyone assumed Siren’s were a myth.

“So… what? (Y/n) talks and we all go in a trance? How do you get out of it?” Scott asked from the back row.

Fury shook his head, sneaking a glance at (Y/n) before speaking.

“You don’t. You stay trapped in the trance until death.” Fury finished.

Everyone’s mouth went into O’s, silence taking over the room yet again. Half of the group were intimidated— while the other half which contained the stronger Avengers, such as Thor and Wanda— they were impressed.

“A love spell that kills you? Wow.” Natasha muttered to herself, having never heard of something like this before.

(Y/n) surprised everyone when she started signing something in her seat, a shameful expression on her face as she did so.

“What did she just say?” Sam asked, looking at both Bucky and Nat.

Bucky and Natasha shared a look with each other, looking back a you before revealing to the rest of the group.

“She said, you’ll love me to death.” Natasha told them.

Everyone grew rigid at that sentence. The sinister way the endearing saying went from sweet to dark. Even Wanda and Thor gulped, swallowing in fear. (Y/n) was new too, nobody knew if they could trust her yet. Even with the approval from Fury— everyone felt a little on edge.

Meanwhile, Bucky gazed at her with a new fascination. Something in him pushed him towards her— something inside him wanted to know everything about her.

He wondered why.

A/N: this seems short and i’m sorry if it feels rushed, but i just wanted to get this out there. has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. hasn’t been proof read 👀

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7

A butler notices his lady of the house has changed—meek and kind instead of evil. One day, he overhears her crying: "Why?! I did everything right, so why the bad end?! This isn't fair... I don't want to die."

Dormiveglia Masterlist

Summary – (n.) The space that stretches between sleeping and waking. 

Out of the seventy years Bucky was held captive by HYDRA, most of them were spent in a cryogenic state.  Considering the horrendous atrocities he suffered during his waking hours, it’s no wonder he created an idyllic world in his dreams—with a woman he can never have in real life. Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part 1 - Posted February 21, 2019

Part 2 - Posted February 28, 2019

Part 3 - Posted March 7, 2019

Part 4 - Posted March 14, 2019

Part 5 - Posted March 21, 2019

Part 6 - Posted March 28, 2019

Part 7 - Posted April 4, 2019

Part 8 - Posted April 11, 2019

Part 9 - Posted April 18, 2019

Part 10 - Posted April 25, 2019

Part 11 - Posted May 2, 2019

Part 12 - Posted May 9, 2019 

Part 13 - Posted May 16, 2019 

Part 14 - Posted May 23, 2019 

Part 15 - Posted May 30, 2019 

Part 16 - Posted June 6, 2019 

Part 17 - Posted June 13, 2019 

Part 18 - Posted June 20, 2019 

Part 19 - Posted June 27, 2019 

Epilogue - Posted July 4, 2019 

~Masterlist~

Moodboard by Elle and Em from @themaskedwriter

strange tides

merperson darlin' and sailor sam au! thank you @dolls-circus for enabling me on this one lol

content warnings: mentions of blood and injury, also mentions of quinn being a jerk

----

They'd swum about as far from that fishing boat as they could while still losing blood. Twisting to survey the damage, they could see one of the harpoon barbs still embedded in their tail, blood from the wound clouding in the salty water. Bastards. The sailors had been laughing, too, taunting them with threats of capture and sale to that infamous black market dealer they'd narrowly escaped two years earlier- Quinn. False friend. Traitor. Murderer. Just the thought of him set their teeth on edge. But they had bigger problems right now.

The wound was in a difficult spot, hard to reach without aid, and would make rapid movement difficult. They were gliding along easily enough now, but if another ship came by it would be difficult to outpace them, and beyond that, they'd hardly be able to hunt like this.

Turning towards the protected shallows of the nearest gulf, they slowed and looked for a secluded space to rest. It would be easier to chase prey while in their weakened state among the reef, and few boats were likely to approach. As they paddled, they noticed a large piece of driftwood bobbing on the surface, casting shadows on the sand below. A bit more visible than they might have preferred, but at least it would give them something to hold on to so they could sleep for a bit. Cushioning their head on their forearms, they held the piece of floating wood close and let themself drift off to sleep.

......

Fresh air woke them, stinging at their rarely-used nose and lungs. Coughing and gasping, they dimly realized they were being lifted from the water by hands. Human hands. The fishermen must have tracked them to this spot. Or worse, they'd notified Quinn and he'd come to get them himself. They thrashed around in the grip of whoever was holding them, twisting furiously in hopes of digging their teeth into flesh, but the human persisted, dropping them into the bow of the boat. They recognized that he was yelling something, flapping his arms at them, but focused on their efforts to right themself and get back to the water. The barb lodged in their tail smacked against the ship's hull and they curled in on themself, whining in pain. Their desperation fading in the face of agony, the rest of the boat swam gradually into view. They were laid out on a swath of nets and ropes, near to a few spears resting on the side of the boat. Most concerning, an unfamiliar man was staring at them, eyes wide and hands up like humans put them when another one held out their exploding tunnel weapons. Guns, they thought Quinn had called them once, back when they had trusted him.

But they weren't holding any weapons. And that was a problem, they thought, flopping over one more time to snatch one of the man's spears and brandish it at him. "Stay back or I'll kill you," they hissed, the air harsh in their throat and garbling their speech, designed to travel through the thicker medium of water.

"Okay," the man said placatingly, but he was still staring at them in shock. "Alright. You're okay. You... have gills, and... a shark tail... but you're... okay?" He tried stepping closer. "I'm sorry, I thought you were-"

"I said stay back!" They snapped their teeth at him. He stopped moving.

"Alright! You're hurt, right? I can help you," he said, moving his hands again as he spoke to gesture at their wounded tail and mimicking some kind of wrapping gesture. "Do you understand?"

They growled. "I know your language. And your lies." They'd been around Quinn long enough to pick it up. But the man only lowered his hands, confused, and still looking somewhat panicked. Dense human. Rolling their eyes, they pointed to themself, then their head. To him, then back at their throat. "I... know... your... words."

"You... know? You understand my language? Is that it?"

They nodded sulkily. They weren't here to chat with some random human who had entrapped them on his boat for who knew what nefarious purpose. Pointing at him again, they flattened their hand, held it up, and moved it away from themself. "Stay back."

"Me... you want to push me? No. You want me to stay over here?"

Still holding the spear out, they nodded again, letting their attention drift from the human to the rolling waves slapping against the boat. Using their free arm, they tried lifting themself onto the side of the ship, but by now their tail was dead weight, flopping uselessly as each small movement of the harpoon tip sent a shock of pain up their spine. Their arm trembled with the effort, and after several failed attempts to wiggle back into the water, they slumped down again, exhausted. The man watched this display in silence, his face scrunched up in concern now.

"Look, darlin'- you're injured, okay? At least let me get the barb out of you. I can wrap it up too, if you want."

They snapped their teeth at him again. If he was offering to heal them, then he didn't intend to kill them. He must have other plans for them- perhaps selling them to Quinn, or holding them captive for his own ego or amusement. They wouldn't let it happen- they'd rather die.

Yowling in frustration, they tried again to propel themself back into the sea, hoping that the threat of the spear they still grasped and their bite would keep the man back. But every motion caused their tail to erupt in more pain, weakened by lack of access to the water. Blood trickled from the wound, spilling across the floor of the boat and staining it red. Frustrated at their own body's betrayal and weakness, they collapsed down again, rolling at the chafe of the ropes under their skin.

"Are you done?" the man asked dryly. They noted with displeasure that he seemed to have gotten over his fear at their existence. "Look, you're not gonna be able to swim far like this. Let me help you?"

They growled. "You don't want to help. Only hurt, like all the rest," they snapped, making gestures to convey the rough idea.

"I'm not aiming to hurt you, alright, darlin'?" his voice softened. "I promise I'll be as gentle as I can. And if I break that promise, hey, you've still got my spear."

That was true, at least. And if he tried anything, having better mobility could hardly hurt. They could take him down, they were sure of it. Nodding tersely, they tightened their grip on the weapon and shot him a threatening look.

"Alright," he said calmly, sitting down by their tail. "Let's see what we're dealin' with here." Surprisingly, there wasn't pain where he touched, moving their tail this way and that to examine the wound. "First thing, we need to get this thing out of you." Turning around, he retrieved a white cylinder of spongey material, a flat cloth, and a small glass bottle from a box near the prow. "Now, this part might sting a bit, but I'd appreciate it greatly if you didn't stab me anyway" This last part was delivered with an amused smirk at them.

"We'll see," they grumbled, pointing between themself and him and then gesturing at their eyes.

"You and I... look? See? We'll see?" he grinned.

They nodded, stiffening as he unscrewed the bottle and grasped the base of their tail. "You ready, darlin'?"

Another quick nod, and he poured some of the liquid from the bottle over the puncture wound. They groaned in pain, thrashing until he tightened his grip a little, shushing them gently. "It's okay. It's alright, I've got you." The man set the bottle down and picked up the flat object. "Good to keep goin'?" They huffed but nodded again.

Holding the barb in his free hand, the human looked them deep in the eyes, and then rapidly pulled it free, covering the injury with the cloth before blood could pour forth. With the other hand, he procured the spongey cylinder and began to unravel it, wrapping it tightly around their tail until the cylinder was a flat band of fabric that he was tying into a knot and tucking under the wrapping.

"There, that wasn't so bad, now, was it?"

Experimentally, they flicked their tail back and forth. It was still painful, but less so now that the barb was gone and that there wasn't blood spurting from the wound anymore. The wrapping seemed to keep their tail straight as well, refusing to enable their urge to keep it tilted so it didn't irritate the injury.

"I'd give you some kind of medication, but, uh... I'm not sure if it would work for you. Truth be told, I've never really treated a shark person before. Is that- I'm sorry, what should I call you?"

They shrugged. Names weren't a part of their life under the water. Among their pack, only loose titles were given to others, and outside of it, they rarely met anyone long enough to need a name for them. Quinn had used to call them "my treasure", before... well. They'd found it pretty at first, then cloying, and finally, the concealed threat it was always meant to be. At any rate, they had no names to give this strange human, and even if they had, they weren't sure they would trust him with it.

"Alright... well, my name is Sam." He extended a hand out at them. But it was empty, they thought in confusion, staring at the proffered hand before hesitantly poking it with a finger. He smiled at that, withdrawing his hand before standing again. They tensed. Now he'd attack them, or tie them down and take them away from the sea. Clutching the spear to their chest, they glared at the man- Sam, whatever kind of name that was- but he only looked back at them evenly. "Do you want to rest here a bit before heading back out? You've got to be pretty tired."

They considered it for a moment, and then remembered where they were. Idiot! They couldn't "rest" in a human's vessel. Just because he hadn't tricked them so far didn't mean he wouldn't do it now. And besides, they'd been out of the water too long- their skin was starting to itch, their lungs burning from the exertion of each inhale. Shaking their head, they managed to successfully propel themself onto the edge of the boat and fall back into the reassuring cool embrace of the ocean. The man's face, distorted by the waves above, stared down at them, wide with shock again as they disappeared below the water. Once they were sure they were settled back in their home, they pushed the spear out of their grasp, tossing it back towards the boat, where the human's hand grabbed it from the sea.

Swimming back to the reef they'd been pulled from, they resolved to forget the strange human and to avoid being caught unawares again.

.....

It proved to be a difficult resolution. Possibly because they still had the wrappings around their tail, which occasionally itched as they swam, hunting around the reef. They didn't understand him. Why would he give up his own supplies to help them? They weren't part of the same pack or hunting troupe. They weren't even of the same habitat. And they'd heard (and seen) plenty of destructive humans tearing the oceans apart for gain. Why wouldn't he have done the same? They knew from their time with Quinn that a rarity like them was "almost priceless", although they didn't understand why the scraps of patterned leaves or metal circles he and his humans had been so obsessed with were so coveted in the first place. Shouldn't this Sam have been the same way?

These questions continued to perplex them, which was incredibly annoying. One sunny afternoon, as they rested on the sand and tried to push all their confused thoughts about humankind out of their head, they felt a disturbance in the water. Thinking that maybe Sam had sold their approximate location after all, or that a new threat had emerged, they swam closer to investigate. It was... him again? They recognized the hull of his boat. Why had he come back? Maybe he expected payment?

That was it, they thought. They hadn't been able to get him out of their mind because they owed him a debt for removing the barb from their tail. But what could they repay him with? What did humans like besides their strange, colorful papers covered with the faces of other humans?

Scanning the reef, they shot forward, quickly snapping up a lobster hiding under the coral and prying some clams from the rocky ground. It was something they might have given another pack member as a gift- something special to eat. There was a dark green glass bottle half-buried in the sand and a clear bag drifting along with the current- they collected those too, wrinkling their nose at the slimy, algae-covered surfaces. They were human things, so maybe he would have some use for them. Satisfied with their haul, they swam closer to the boat, only pausing once to pick up another object- a small empty circle that sparkled in the light, almost the color of the sand, with a smaller shining rock embedded on top of it. Hopefully it would suffice. Shuffling the items to one arm, excepting the lobster, which they held in their mouth to keep it from pinching, they surfaced close to the boat and grabbed its side, pulling themself up enough to see over the edge. The man seemed to be sleeping. That wouldn't do. They dropped their gifts on the boat's floor, spitting out the lobster, and started rocking the boat back and forth to jostle it. "Wake up!"

He jumped up, scrambling to his feet and cursing furiously. "What the f- wait.  It's you?" They bared teeth at him in a grin, the friendly way he had done before, but instead of relaxing he looked more confused. "What are you doing back here?"

They pointed at their gathered load, then at him. Sam turned his gaze down to where the lobster was scuttling across the floor of the ship, clicking its claws menacingly. "These are... for me?"

It was a pretty generous haul, they thought. No wonder he was surprised. But this was a fairly undisturbed reef, even if the waves did carry human objects from far away to land there. They could afford to share.

"I- thank you, but... why?"

"You fixed my tail," they responded, gesturing at it. They'd discarded the wrappings since they'd last seen him, but the bloody wound had healed to a puckered scar.

"It's looking a sight better than before," he smiled, hesitantly stepping closer, "but really, you didn't need to... do this." He glanced again at the lobster. "I am sorry for givin' you a scare like that, though. I thought you might have drifted off from a shipwreck. I wasn't expecting-" his eyes fell to their tail. "In any case, I was glad to help."

"Why?" It was harder to translate into a hand movement, but he seemed to understand after a few wrong guesses.

"Why?" He shrugged, taking a seat close to where they were hanging on the side of the boat. "You were hurt, and I could do something about it. Wasn't just gonna sit on my hands knowing I could help."

He really was weird. They said as much to him, adding gestures so he would understand.

"I'm confusing?" Close enough. "Well, if you don't mind me saying, darlin', you're not exactly what I was expecting either. Do you live around here?"

"For now," they said, moving their hands to act out the words.

"For now, huh? Is it just you?"

Was he playing them? Trying to appear like he wasn't a threat so he could gather information and then take them down? They growled in warning.

"Too personal? Alright."

They pointed at him. If he was going to be asking questions, it was only fair he should offer some responses of his own in return.

"Me? I'm not from around here originally. I've got a brother of sorts in the area, though."

They continued their conversation for some hours. To their surprise, Sam didn't pry more about any of the questions they refused to answer, and was more decent to speak to than they'd expected a human to be. He'd began to pick up more quickly on the meaning of their hand gestures as they spoke more, as well.

The sun was setting when he squinted in its direction and said he'd best be heading back home before nightfall. Remembering that humans didn't see well in the dark and nodding, they pushed away from the boat.

"Thanks for the talk, darlin'," he called out. "Maybe I'll see you out here again?"

They were surprised to find that they didn't really mind the idea. "Yes," they responded, and he smiled at them before waving his hand as they sunk below the waves. They heard his boat begin to move away, and listened until it had passed their earshot. What a weird human... but somehow they were almost excited to see him again.

This was never meant to be your purpose, you were just a single intelligence core meant to man a singular flak cannon, but the other cores were destroyed so now you're piloting the ship.

"Look, people only call it 'Dark Magic' because they don't know how it works. I prefer referring to it as 'The Old Ways-'" "Cut the bullshit. I just watched you sacrifice a kitten on an altar covered in skulls impaled on spikes. IT'S DARK MAGIC."