Bucky coughs up a joyless laugh. "Your dead body is of no use to me. All that big talk, there’s never anything behind it." He smiles sickly-sweet. "You really wanna help, you can volunteer to take my place next time a bunch of drunk guys ignore the rules and drag me out to play a round of 'Who can make him scream’." Bucky snorts. "No? Who’d have thought."
I read this, and I remembered a necrophiliac!Rumlow fill I read once on the meme, and then my mind went to, "Well actually, Steve's dead body might be of use to the Bucky of that universe," and then I realized that I am well and truly a terrible person with a space reserved in hell.
On another note! This whole fic is so amazingly well written. I love this Bucky, how simultaneously angry yet unable to comprehend his ability to do something about that beyond tiny little flares of rebellion he is. I am off to cry buckets of tears now and then comfort myself with thoughts of Bucky slowly learning to regain trust in Steve and the others, possibly while cuddling lots of stuffed animals and eating lots of ice cream.
Re: Windmills, Fill 15b/15 (aka Bucky's sense of tmi is faulty) -FIN-
I read this, and I remembered a necrophiliac!Rumlow fill I read once on the meme, and then my mind went to, "Well actually, Steve's dead body might be of use to the Bucky of that universe," and then I realized that I am well and truly a terrible person with a space reserved in hell.
On another note! This whole fic is so amazingly well written. I love this Bucky, how simultaneously angry yet unable to comprehend his ability to do something about that beyond tiny little flares of rebellion he is. I am off to cry buckets of tears now and then comfort myself with thoughts of Bucky slowly learning to regain trust in Steve and the others, possibly while cuddling lots of stuffed animals and eating lots of ice cream.