[ TAKE ]: sender takes a hit meant for receiver. // Steve rogers

Never had he thought that he would have been cornered like this, but with someone that had his training, he wasn't afraid, he wasn't stuck with them - they were stuck with him. An high-class assassin that could easily calculate their next move. Bucky knew better than killing anyone, he was better than that, but even if he was, if it happened, then he would take the blame for it, as he did with everything he had done while he was the Winter Soldier. Exhaling through gritted teeth, he deflected a knife tossed at him, quickly catching it mid air before lunging forward, eyes cold as his focus kicked in.

A dance of blows, evading, catching, knocking guns out of hands as if it was just a regular day for him. No matter how much it was said that the programming was gone, it never took away how fast the soldier could fall back into the same rhythm that he had been stuck in for the past seventy years. It was too easy. His metal fist gripped tightly at one man's shirt as he lifted him, ocean blues giving a cold, piercing stare as he exhaled, only for his attention to soon turn toward the footsteps behind him, but he wasn't quick enough and the other assailant behind had already shot with his pistol --

But the bullet never connected with him. 

Eyes stared at the flash of blue that had stepped in between them just as quickly, recognizing the uniform right away. It was Steve - Steve had taken the damn bullet! James' voice got caught in his throat, a strangled noise barely managing to claw its way out as he quickly dropped the man he had been holding onto, turning around and with one swift swing of his arm, tossed the knife he held firmly in his right hand with perfect precision into the other target's shoulder, forcing him to drop his gun while stumbling backward.

@mischieflawed @sinfullyflawedd

His words were like a punch to the gut. Max couldn't remember the last time she had been so disrespected. Lay off the sugar? Did he want her to die? Was he trying to starve her? Boxed sugar was all she could eat. If she attempted to cook she'd burn down her house. Then she would be starving and homeless. Dramatic? Maybe? -- She isn't sure she wants to find out.

"Are you calling me fat? Telling me my hair looks drab due to lack of vegetables? -- Wow Hopper, i never thought you of all people would shame me like that. Who do i go to when the chief of police is harassing someone about their diet?" Max was laying it on thick. Even if it didn't work, it would annoy him enough, probably. "Do you tell other residents of Hawkins what they should or shouldn't eat? If it's just me.... That's an entirely different lawsuit. I have a REEEALLLY great lawyer."

༘⋆｡ stirring the pot starters | @sinfullyflawedd | " I'd  watch  that  tone  if  i  were  you. " - From Negan

❝ Why ?  Gonna   tear   the   tongue   out   of   my   head   if   I   don't   ?   ❞   The   question   comes   with   just   as   much   attitude   as   the   last,   Bonnie's eyes   downcast   as   she   continues   packaging   rations   for   the   medical   tent's intake.   ❝ All   I'm   saying   is   bringing   them   in.   .   .people   are   talkin'   and   they   ain't   happy.   I'm   not   telling   you   to   listen,   but   I'd   be   damned   if   I   didn't   speak   up   when   I   thought   it   was   important.   You   knew   I   wasn't   like   the   other   gals   here,   so   don't   expect   me   to   keep   my   mouth   shut   neither.   ❞

‘Touchy, aren’t we?’

The growl was there before the words, low in his chest and entirely lacking the good manners he normally pretended to own when there was company. Lucien went very still, wings drawn half-tight behind him, and stared at Negan with the slow, poisonous patience of someone deciding whether violence would be worth the mess. The audacity wasn’t surprising. That was the annoying part. Negan looked exactly like the sort of man who’d see something rare, dangerous, clearly attached to somebody else’s spine, and think, yeah, go on then, let’s have a little poke. ( Fucksake. There were warning labels on kettles for people like him. ) His feathers twitched beneath the contact despite him, which only made his stare narrow further, unimpressed and faintly murderous.

‘Most people see wings and have the decency to keep their hands to themselves. Then again, I suppose expecting decency from you was optimistic.’

He let the silence sit for a beat longer than necessary, mostly because he wanted Negan to feel the risk of it, even if the man had all the caution of a drunk raccoon in a fireworks shop. The touch hadn’t hurt. That would’ve been easier, honestly. Pain was familiar enough to file away and ignore. Sensitivity was a different bastard entirely, slipping under his skin before he could stop it, making his wings want to shudder and his pride want to bite the nearest available idiot. ( And there he was, lucky winner, leather jacket and all. Bloody marvellous. ) Lucien’s mouth curled, sharp with irritation rather than invitation, before he pulled away in one smooth movement and folded the wings closer to his back.

‘They’re sensitive, darling. So unless you’re trying to find out whether I purr or maul first, I’d keep the wandering hands to yourself.’

If   the   tables   were   turned,   Thor   knows   that   he   could   not   leave   without   the   other.   His   heart   skips   a   beat   at   the   thought   of   anything   happens   to   the   captain.   His   comrade.   Still,   one   of   them   needs   to   evacuate   the   civilians.   "That   is   not   your   call.   Get   everyone   out."   The   god   knows   that   Steve   will   still   push   back   on   him.   He   would   and   sometimes   the   pair   are   one   in   the   same.   Willing   to   sacrifice   themselves   for   the   greater   good   to   ensure   the   safety   of   the   innocent.   "You   were   always   so   stubborn.   Please   listen   just   this   once   and   GO."

Just  because  this  thunderer  is  a  god  does  not  mean  that  he  can  escape  from  pain.  Any  injury  sustained  will  take  time  to  heal  itself  but  it  will  always  come  with  a  certain  amount  of  pain.  Being  impaled  will  not  come  with  a  trip  to  Valhalla.  Not  on  this  day,  but  the  pain  radiating  up  through  his  torse  and  downwards  to  his  thighs  has  his  limbs  shaking.  Is  it  the  adrenaline  or  sheer  agony.  He  reaches  out  to  grip  a  hold  of  Steve's  shoulder.

sinfullyflawedd asked: i could touch you forever. // Negan

" Bold words coming from a man currently not doing as he's said. " MISCHIEF COVERED HER features in a smirk that was akin to a villain hatching an evil plan. Negan was always a forward man in his words, but she often wondered if such a forward nature extended to the more physical acts he spoke of. Perhaps, she'd tease him. That would get the ball rolling and have him do more than talk big.

She stepped closer; slowly, meticulously. Every movement, every motion calculated and made with great intent. Did she really have to make the first move? Or, would it be enough for her to get close enough to him that he simply could not resist that pull of desire? " You want to touch me? --- Well, I'm right here... Sir. "

@sinfullyflawedd random suggestive dialogue / accepting.

"Unless you're tryin' to throw me across the room, yes." To avoid injury of course, not that he would want to be thrown. "Kind of. Maybe. Do you want to throw me?" Please say no.