sempermemoriia-blog

[sempermemoriia-blog]

silverheartsilverskin:

gaze shifts over his form as he himself wandered closer, her head tipping back JUST a touch more to really look him in the eye. technology had it’s perks and downfalls. apps for dating, delivering, shopping—apps made for all the less human contact in the world when that was what she thrived off of. you know, punching a guys face in and chokeholds being her trademark. she was sure to never give buck much of a hard time when it came to learning the advancements and keeping ontop of it all. but the occasional snide remark was made here and there–like keep up, old man. but she did appreciate just how old school he was. benefit of the doubt, for being a man out of time like cap.

brows quirk once more to her hairline, a little chuckle BUBBLING through her as her hands smoothed over her lowerback, finding peace in the back pockets of her jeans. “ made sense? right. ” did you catch that wink?

head cocks to the left a little, tongue ghosting over her lowerlip to draw it between her teeth to bite upon. “ i never said you weren’t my favorite person. even though, y’know. ( a scrunch of her nose with that shit eating smile, ) i did trick you into the whole kiss–then shoved you off the wall. ” biting her lip once more to muffle back a snicker—

     “ you’re a pretty hard guy to forget, james. why, i’m offended you’d think lil’old me would forget about you. ”

See, as cool as all this fancy ass tech was, Bucky had always been partial to the personal touch. Talking on the phone was great and all, but he’d much rather SEE her face and HEAR her voice and see the the twinkle in those big, blue eyes whenever she was laughing at his expense. 

A millenial though she might have been, Ana seemed to respond well to his OLD MAN charm. So apparently he seemed to be doing something right.

     “ Hmm. I think I remember SOMETHING like that. “

Floorboards creaked beneath him as James advanced, something foreign in his gaze.

     “ I don’t know if you’ll escape so easily,      this time around. “

[sempermemoriia-blog]

silverheartsilverskin:

she can’t help but chuckle—he was a fast learner, even knew what an E-CARD was. hip pressed against the counter and facing bucky, there’s something in her expression. a touch of a smile, her piercing gaze not to piercing—a softness, gentleness to it. anastasia knew how to be anything but soft, even though she had her moments. like now. 

  maybe it was the flowers. an unheard of gesture in the modern day age of technology. a text or a call or even facetime was the new norm—but not flowers, nor someone going out of their way to SEE you face to face.

  “ very sweet of you. ” anastasia crooned as she pushed herself from the counter, wandering towards him as she slipped her hands behind her back. her? on his mind? pretty straight forward. a touch of pink coloring the shell of her ears, brows quirk in surprise as plump lips part—tricky, finding words when you’re put on the spot. “ i thought about you a little bit too. ” was saying i missed you a bit much?

GOOGLE had been a great help when it came to adapting to this brave new world that Bucky found himself a part of. Literally all the information in the world at the tip of his fingers. It was...kind of mindblowing. Like discovering the Rosettta Stone, only it could also tell time and play Angry Birds.

Except for that time someone had told him to look up ‘ blue waffle ‘ That had been fucking TERRIBLE.

     “ Pretty gal. Pretty flowers. Made sense. “

He tried to keep things nonchalant, wide-set shoulders shrugging softly as though to say ‘ no big deal. ‘ Bright eyes watched with thinly veiled interested as she began her approach, noting the hands at her back. Wondering what she was up to.

     “ Just a little bit though, right? FIGURES.       I never was your favorite person huh? “

His spine straightened as he pushed away from the wall, now towering over the petite vigilante.

     “ Surprised you didn’t just forget all about me. “

[sempermemoriia-blog]

silverheartsilverskin:

@sempermemoriia // small starter call.

     “ the flowers were a nice touch. old school, but nice touch. ” they’re in a vase in the middle of the kitchen, her digits pinching soft petals between them. “ what’s the occasion? ”

     “ Old school is kind of my wheelhouse.      What, you complainin? Should I have      sent you an E-CARD instead? “

That was the problem with this generation --- they’d forgotten about the old ways. Buying a gal a bunch of red roses was like COURTING 101 back in his day. Now they just hooked up on the internet. Tinder, Grindr, there were a million and one ways to avoid actual human interaction these days.

     “ No occasion. Just an inclination. “

He was posted up by the wall, holding up the apartment like a titan of old, stance guarded and hands over his chest. Curious how she was gonna take the offering.

     “ I haven’t been around in a while. Just wanted      to let you know you were on my mind. “

[sempermemoriia-blog]

wartornwoman:

IDENTITY: BARNES, BUCKY. RELATIONSHIP: UNCERTAIN. ( @sempermemoriia​ )

she’d stopped keeping track of the days. found it DEPRESSING, waiting like that. it made her think too much about the war, about counting down days until her best friend returned home, either in uniform or in a casket. she didn’t like thinking like that, not then, not now. when bucky was ready, if he was ever ready, he’d come back to her. he’d find her, one way or another, and he’d come back. and if he didn’t ––––– 

steph didn’t like to think about that either. her life, her fate, everything about who she was, it was all tied in so intrinsically with bucky, that thinking about a life without him so soon after she’d accepted the reality of never getting him back and then FINDING HIM AGAIN….it made her vaguely nauseous. so she didn’t count the days. but that didn’t mean she wasn’t waiting, in her own way. 

still, even without counting, it’s been A WHILE. her hair’s starting to fade, a little. not enough for the blonde to shine through again, but enough that it’s not the dark, deep chestnut it was the first time she dyed it, or the second time, or the third. she’ll need to pick up a few more boxes of dye from the store the next time she goes. she makes a note of it in her head as she sits on the counter, poking absentmindedly at her cereal bowl. her appetite’s been hit or miss all day; like she can feel it coming, like he’s a storm in the air that no one’s noticed but her. there’s a soft sound a room over, one a civilian would miss, and for a moment, steph swears she smells SNOW.

softer footsteps follow the soft noise, and she leans to the side just enough to open the drawer below her, to her left. a steak knife, unbalanced in her hand, is flipped once, and then thrown in his direction, just on the off chance her gut is wrong. she’s grateful when he catches it –––– that would have been one hell of a thing to defend to herself about while removing it from his shoulder, if his reflexes weren’t as fast as they were. “ you’ve got to stop doing shit like that, ” she says, but she’s smiling, a little bit. ( she’s trying to play it cool, trying not to get A LITTLE WEEPY, trying not to rush across the tiny apartment and check him head to toe for injuries. it’s only working a little bit. ) “ i’m an old woman now, buck. ” her smile widens. “ you’re gonna give me a heart attack. ” 

Someone with as much training as James Barnes should have known better than to go skulking about the resident of a documented terrorist ( he had a good laugh about that one ), but he just couldn’t help himself. It was their version of a SECRET KNOCK, or so he like to think.

So when the knife came whistling through the air, his expression was less surprised and more BEMUSED. He’d been leaning over, examining an extremely old photograph of a group of soldiers, fully geared and mid-march. The lead, a blonde woman, was checking a map and looking very stoic. It was one of the more well circulated pictures of Captain America during the campaign against Hydra.

Few people knew that the Commandos were actually lost, and Steph was making that face because Bucky wouldn’t stop pointing it out.

He caught the blade mere inches from his eyeball, the steel scraping harmlessly against metal digits. 

     “ You throw like an old woman, Rogers.          Think I see a few gray hairs. “

Her smile is contagious, nervous energy translated through the skillful manipulation of the kitchen knife through dexterous fingers. She had that effect on him --- especially when they hadn’t seen each other in so long. He sat the blade down on the coffee table, trying not to stare too much.

She looked good as a brunette.

The strap biting into his shoulder began to slide as James shifted weight, duffel bag falling quietly to the floor. 

     “ Huh.      

    --- Do I get a hug or what? “

[sempermemoriia-blog]

libertinedeath:

–––––– @sempermemoriia​​ ( you can’t fight the friction, so ease it off. )

HAS SHE BEEN AVOIDING HIM ? perhaps. in her defense, he hasn’t been quite looking her in the eye with a sense of regularity since what she’s mentally dubbed THE INCIDENT. ( there had been no saving her gown, and she hadn’t been able to hide it from her handmaidens. she’s certain yané’s still gossiping with saché about it. ) still, she’s been a bit…embarrassed is a good word. she hadn’t thought herself entirely capable of losing herself in the moment like that, but she’s HAPPY to blame all that on him, for now. still, as much as she still can’t quite stand the man, as much as they barely look one another in the eye and conversations are stilted at best –– they’re developing into a bit of a team. A UNITED FRONT. 

take the training regime, for instance. it’d been his idea, his brainchild, but she’d supported it wholly. ( and if that had thrown him for a loop, he hadn’t let on. ) her governors had advised her against participating, but she’d been there, standing at his right while he went over the plans for today, dressed in the exact same outfit as the rest of her handmaidens, with only a slightly more interesting braid, wrapped in a crown around her head, and a scarlet line down her lower lip to denote her as the queen. she’d been sure he’d expected her to bow out halfway through, or OVERSEE the training, but she’d been in the thick of it all day, her face dirtied, her boots muddied, and her grin bright and flashing every time she managed to outrun him during an exercise. ( she’s fast, the queen of naboo, and far more nimble than her stature would have you believe. ) 

it’s got to be some combination of these things that leads to his suggestion. they’re both exhausted, and there’s a burning in her legs that’ll worsen tomorrow, the kind of burning that says she’s been SLACKING on her morning runs. ( she blames the upcoming wedding; everyone’s been expecting her opinion on this and on that and her planet does NOT have enough standard hours for the amount of work that’s expected of her. ) she could brush him off, roll her eyes at him. tell him no, outright, vocal, with no room for potential miscommunication. then she remembers the feeling of his teeth on her neck, and she shrugs out of her thick velvet tunic, discarding the maroon fabric on the floor as she walks into the refresher. amidala’s barely got the water started before his hand closes over her arm, and she gasps softly at the contact. she hums out an agreement, an acknowledgement, at his question. ❝ droid caught me during the invasion of theed, ❞ she murmurs, adjusting the water’s temperature. ❝ they wanted me in a tank for a few days after ––– CAN YOU IMAGINE ? being stuck in a bacta tank after a full scale invasion ? ❞ she scoffs, shaking her head, and reaches for a bar of soap, pressed with romanaria and ithorian roses. ❝ it’s amazing, how entitled people can feel to someone else’s appearance. ❞ –––––––––––– CONTINUED.

     “ Spoken like a true warrior. “

Blue eyes closed against the streams of warm water flowing from his scalp, the contrast against ice cold surface beneath his feet  sending shivers up the base of his spine. Her grab was intercepted, James’ hand enclosing over delicate fingers and forcing the Queen’s spine FLAT against against the while. Fingers intertwined like lovers embrace.

His love is cruel and taunting --- teeth sinking into delicate flesh, digging DEEP. Staking his claim, in case of dissention. Crescent moon tattoos, turning pale white to a bright and vibrant crimson. THROBBING soothed solely by the salve of his tongue and supple pecks.

Her neck, her throat, her shoulders --- he left a bloody shrine of his devotion at each, reveling in Amidala as he taste the water on her skin.

     “ My people consider them a badge of HONOR, “ he said in between breathless kisses, his touch surprisingly gentle all a sudden --- scorching flame now a warm hearth. “ A mark that you survived the pain. A momento. “

The memory of this night would forever be etched into her being.

Fingers traced the contour of her hip, nails LIGHTLY scraping over the ropy remnants of scar tissue.

     “ ...And this one? “

[sempermemoriia-blog]

     “ It’s a trap. “

The Mandalorian uttered the words with a simple finality, hunched low over a burning fire. There was something spit roasting in the flames, fat SIZZLING as thick drops spilled onto wood logs. It smelled delicious --- maybe that was why his expression seemed to wistful as he took the meal off the fire.

There was a guest to entertain, now. Probably not going to get a chance to eat that.

     “ You thought you were chasing a Jedi. The plasma         scarring and ABSURD horror stories, right? Did it        ANGER you? Thinking that one of those things escaped        your crusade? “

There was malice tinging deep tone, but otherwise no signs of hostility. He was pouring water and dirt into the pit now, dousing the flames while trying to IGNITE his comrade.

From the neck down he was pure MANDALORIAN --- battle scarred armor, durasteel plating covered in knicks and scars. His helmet sat some feet away, near the makeshift tint. He’d been camping in this canyon for a week now, patiently waiting for his hunter to follow the trail.

     “ All me, I’m afraid. Got the saber off another        one of you boys. And the uh...the FORCE powers?        Pneumatic air cannon. Real convincing. Paint on a        few Rebel insignia and everybody goes crazy. “

A hand reached out to scoop up the last piece of his armor, James brushing away a layer of grit from the t-shaped visor as he stood to his feet. Slipping the helmet over his crown and watching as the HUD blipped to life.

Now they were both suited up. Knights standing opposite a line drawn in the sand.

       “ I’ll try not to disappoint, LORD VADER. “

@jedibetrayer

[sempermemoriia-blog]

There was nothing SMART about this plan. He was alone on enemy territory, with no chance of reinforcements. How could there be --- this was a RENEGADE mission. As far as the rest of the Death Watch knew, he was in his quarters resting peacefully. Not stalking through the streets of Sundari.

There had been a festival earlier in the evening --- an annual tradition that originally had been raised in honor of Mandalore the First. But while the reverie persisted across generations, the MEANING had long since faded for memory.

James was thankful for their ignorance --- plied with alcohol, the guards stationed around the domed city were much more lax in their vigilance. Made it that much easier for the armor clad warrior to make his way.

Not that they would have been much of a threat. Fool leader of theirs didn’t even permit them to carry blasters.

Accessing the palace itself had been...a little bit more difficult. The men there were still AWAKE, albeit slurring and sloshing and stumbling all over the place. What a disgrace --- it was no small wonder how they’d managed to hold onto the planet with such discipline ( or lack thereof. )

There was a study somewhere near the throne room --- eyes closed for a moment behind dark visor, picturing building schematics he skimmed before leaving home.

Up here, on the right. No guards on the door, which was a good sign. When he’d sent the message asking to meet, he’d insist that the she not respond. Less chance of getting intercepted.

But who knew if she would be on the other side? Could be a squad of troops, instead. ( Carrying what, James? STUN BATONS? ) Maybe they would turn him back over to the Watch. Or worse, batter him with legal repartee.

Came too far to turn back now, soldier.

The study was dark, supplemented by a lone fire crackling in the hearth. It was warm --- almost INVITING.

He wasn’t convinced.

     “ Setting the mood, your majesty? “

( closed starter @demandpeace )

[sempermemoriia-blog]

and if you look to your left, you'll see stephanie rogers wearing a bright green 'kiss me i'm irish' shirt, because she is nothing if not predictable !

     “ You’re a cheat, Rogers. “

Things between the two of them had been…was awkward a good word for it? As honest and straightforward as Stephanie might have been, she was the absolutely worst when it came to talking about her feelings. Or their feelings, in this particular case.

After THAT NIGHT, they had never spoken on the subject again. Had it been that bad? Did she regret it?

It was up to him to make a move, apparently. Especially since Steph was still using a playbook from the 1940s. Wasn’t love supposed to be a battlefield? Back and forth. The ball was in her court now, right?

Ugh…he’d been watching too many romantic comedies.

There was an almost SHEEPISH tint to her expression, red blush igniting a smile on Bucky’s lips as he reached for the hem of her shirt — tentative and clumsy at first, and then TUGGING insistently.

     “ It’s a good look on you..       Everything is a good look on you. “

His gaze lingered on her lips, hand made of FLESH and BLOOD lifting —- fingertips catching along her curves and dipping into her clavicle. Long fingers traced her chin gently, like piano keys. As though wondering what sort of sound she might produce.

Lips fell upon hers, soft and sweet — her cheek cradled like porcelain.

       “ Top of the mornin’ to ya, Cap. “

[sempermemoriia-blog]

she ABSOLUTELY pinches james for not dressing in green. ❝ dark and broody and covered in leather can still be dark and broody and covered in leather with an accent color. ❞

It wasn’t like the pinch hurt, but he still looked at her in offense. What was it with this generation and wanting to TOUCH each other all the time? What had happened to personal space?

Granted, this was JESSICA DREW. She knew not the concept.

     “ I’m going to ask you a question, and       I want you to be completely honest. 

        --- WHAT is an ACCENT COLOR? “

@fiightsback

[sempermemoriia-blog]

“ DO I ? ” her eyes are so green they’d put a saber to shame, especially as she looks up at him through inky black lashes, all sly and calculating. she’s gauging everything about him ––– height, weight, how solid of a punch that mechno-arm of his can throw, the set of his spine and the look in his eyes ––– running calculations, trying to figure out the best way to proceed from here. there’s an aura about him that sets herON EDGE. everyone has a presence in the force, though there is no guarantee of force sensitivity from that fact alone. she’s not sensing anything about him that would lead her to believe he’s sensing anything about her, but his AURA, his PRESENCE ––– it’s almost familiar. it’s like a wounded animal, barely recovering, snapping at anything that comes to too close to the space around him he had designated as SAFE. there’s a quiet little pause, a soft little whisper in her head, and there it is.

familiar. he feels familiar. because he feels like  h e r.

a stolen child, a girl turned into an assassin. her childhood innocence had been a childhood disease, easily cured by cruelty and the harshnessof blood and death and war. she’d only been twenty one when the empire fell, and she’d been a wounded animal far longer. even now, she can count the amount of times someone has touched her without the intent to HARM on one hand.

her spine straightens. her arms relax, but only minutely. “ you’re not sleeping, are you ? they tell you it’s the dreams, that they’ll pass, but it’s not that. you can’t relax. there’s no off switch anymore. ”

There were certain rules that came with taking refuge on Takodana --- there was a reason that the Mid Rim planet was referred to as a SANCTUARY. Fugitives, outcast, and smugglers alike were welcomed with open arms ( and open palms, ready to be greased. )

Freedom had a cost, after all.

It was those very same LAWS, mandated by Maz Kanata centuries prior, that kept James from launching across the table. Years of training and subjugation IMPLORED the Mandalorian to slit her throat, sensing her innate connection to the Force before she’d even opened her mouth.

The energy flowed from her in waves, leaving a tang in his throat as nausea gripped. He felt sick --- like he was standing on the bow of a vessel in choppy waters. It poured from her like blood form an open wound --- hand trembled, resisting the urge to draw his weapon.

There were no such feeling of kinship from James. Without her extrasensory ability, all the man saw was another tool of the Force.

....Albeit, an insightful one.

     “ ...I don’t dream.        --- I REMEMBER. “

There was a faint whirring as advanced mechanics hummed to life, intricate system working together, triggering electrical impulses that made it possible for him to clench his fist --- to FEEL the weight of his fingertips digging into leather clad palm.

     “ Stop talking like you know me. “

( ...continued from HERE @wanderiingstars )

[sempermemoriia-blog]

I love her so much

[sempermemoriia-blog]

fortheaskbox:

Go on ANON and tell me what you think of me. I do not want to know who it is, at all. Don’t tell me who it is, don’t give me hints, don’t say your screen name. Tell me exactly what you think of me. Don’t sugarcoat things. Don’t lie. If you hate me, tell me why. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. If you like me, tell me why. Tell me exactly what you think of me.

[sempermemoriia-blog]

fightasone.

Anonymously send me your favorite detail about how I play my character.

[sempermemoriia-blog]

Ѡ oops butterfingers

This wasn't the first picture that Ana had sent his way --- let's be honest here, the girl was an ENORMOUS tease. It was the only reason she’d even made him download snapchat in the first place. Asking him to look at a bruise on her thigh, shit like that.

Broad knew what she was doing, that much he knew.

But this was a little different. There was a lot going on in this picture. He’d always known she had a NICE ASS, but it was another thing seeing it on full display --- as though just for him.

His thumb almost punched through the screen when he got around to replying.

[img]:

[text]: only fair right?[text]: that was my first one you should be honored

@silverheartsilverskin

[sempermemoriia-blog]

Ѡ just cause it's sinday lmao ignore if you wanna tho!

James and Michaela had met under CIRCUMSTANCE --- by which he meant that he’d sort of kidnapped her just after the events in Washington D.C, where she’d been on some sort of school related trip. It was more of a HOSTAGE situation, really. One of those desperate times calls for desperate measures kind of thing.

He had been scared, and confused. Fragmented.

She hadn’t taken the situation lying down, either. Had fought him the entire time. And then the fighting turned to questioning --- and she realized that this wasn’t some random sicko.

A year later and they were still together, he and Michaela working to help Bucky piece together the shattered remains of his past. Friends, sort of. Allies at the least.

And now, sext friends.

     Text: This is a surprise i gotta sy     Text: You just don't seem the type.     Text: Im...flattered?     Text: say**

@queenfrcdo is going down in the dm

[sempermemoriia-blog]

Dominant girls are the fucking best

Like yes slam me against a wall and kiss me roughly, dig your nails into my waist and bite my neck, scratch my back and make me crave you, make me beg you to fuck me god that shit is hot as fuck

[sempermemoriia-blog]

that's dirty ://

     “ Wanna go in the shower? “

It had been weeks since the first time that they’d slept together in her apartment, and their relationship had been...precarious ever since. They no longer TORE and RIPPED at one another --- just the opposite, in fact. It were almost as though the two were embarassed by what had gone down. The way that they’d been at one another’s throats one moment, and then fucking against the wall in the next.

But considering their looming nuptuals, the two could only hide for SO long. Today was to be the first of a goverment mandated training regime spearheaded by James himself --- the Mandalorian making an effort to empower the people of Naboo by giving them the tools to defend themselves.

It was good for local morale, and it gave the people faith in their future King.

A flash shower had sprung near the end of the field day, and not one among them had gone unscathed. Both he and Amidala were drenched, boots caked with mud and left somewhere outside to dry.

When he posed the question, she gave no notion that she’d even heard him. The girl just continued to stride forwards, taking out the pins that kept that long braid of dark silk in place. But she didn’t stop there --- piece by piece she removed her clothing, leaving a trail towards the bathing room for James to follow.

Warrior instinct screamed trap, but he decided to listen to his OTHER brain. Clothing is torn from his frame HAPHAZARDLY, the man hopping with one leg trapped in his pants as he chased after his Queen.

Prey was caught just before she hit the glass encasement, fingers light and gentle around her bicep as his lips met the curve of her spine --- diverging the route briefly to kiss a faded wound.

     “ ..;Blaster? “

@libertinedeath is dirty like that