Hi guys! I'm
mahmfic, back for another week of hosting here at
comment_fic! Today's theme is Reincarnation. Interpret as you wish.
The rules still haven't changed:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
No spoilers in prompts.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.
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He has worn so very many masks.
It’s supposed to be different with Steve. The training is supposed to fall away for those moments when they’re alone together, when they’re having dinner or watching a movie, when they’re curled around each other or sleeping on separate sides of the bed.
It’s supposed to be different, and sometimes it is - but sometimes he catches himself talking and acting like Bucky instead of being him. Some memories, some things he does, are still informed - he remembers because he is told about them, not because he actually -
He wonders, sometimes, if underneath Bucky there isn’t another layer, another person he might be. But this one - Bucky - this one can light up Steve’s eyes, can make him ( ... )
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Actually yes, please do, if it's through fic like this.
This is brilliant and I love so much that he might have someone else underneath Bucky and that his memories are not all memories, and that he loves what Bucky can do for Steve, and the hints at how many lives and personas Bucky has lived, and ALL OF IT.
Thank you so much!!!!!
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:')
You're so welcome! Glad you liked. :)
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"Oh, sure," Clint grumbled. "Rub it in. Meanwhile, I'm stuck being the reincarnation of Maid Marian."
Steve frowned, creasing his brow. "I'm not sure that Maid Marian really counts as a fairy tale princess."
"She was in a Disney musical about Robin Hood! She totally counts!"
Tony stared at Clint in disbelief. "She was an animated fox in that version. Anyway, Maid Marian wasn't an archer. Merida, on the other hand--"
Clint groaned. "I didn't even LIKE that movie!"
"It's true," Natasha added. "He complained about Merida's archery through the whole thing."
"You went to see Brave," Tony stated, visibly trying not to blink at the news. "With Clint ( ... )
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"I guess that's all of us, then," Clint said. "Except for Natasha, that is."
"No. I know who I am."
She didn't volunteer the information; instead, she waited for it to dawn on them. It was right there in her appearance, after all: a cap of bright red on her head. Krasnaja šapočka--Little Red Cap. It made no difference that the cap was hair and not a hat or hood ( ... )
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