˚ — “ ΛПƧЩΣЯΣD ” // ( This Is Who I Am Now. ) - Blog Posts

*   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ @freakarus: Send me a 🚶 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC in my muse’s life.

Yelizavetas' Husband: Bucky Barnes of Earth: 982

Yeliza’s Bucky wasn’t built for the world that came after. He wasn’t a soldier. He never held a rifle in some muddy trench. He never got stitched into history with blood. In her universe, he was just a boy who grew up in Brooklyn in the eighties, soft around the edges, stubborn where it mattered. The kind of kid who stayed up too late reading sci-fi books and dreaming about other galaxies instead of wars. Before the world fell apart, he taught astrophysics at the university — filled lecture halls with stories about black holes and collapsing stars, about the universe folding in on itself like paper. He loved it. Loved learning, loved teaching. Loved imagining something bigger than all of this.

He wasn't supposed to survive an apocalypse. But he tried anyway.

When the sky turned black and the cities burned, he held onto Yeliza like a lifeline. Held onto Mila even tighter. He wasn't a fighter, but he fought anyway — not because he was good at it, but because there was no other choice. He taught Mila the names of the stars even when the smoke covered the sky. Told her they were still up there, still burning, even when they couldn’t see them.

He died the same way he lived — trying to protect the people he loved. Yeliza never blamed him. He wasn’t meant to be a weapon. He was meant to be a teacher, a father, a man who kept the memory of the stars alive even after the world forgot them.

*   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ @ppctts: Send me a 🚶 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC in my muse’s life.

Yelizaveta && Bucky Barnes' daughter.

Mila Barnes was born in the middle of the apocalypse. Born from an unlikely relationship between Bucky Barnes and Yelizaveta Osborn. She was everything. Yeliza’s whole reason for breathing. Mila had her dad’s soft, blue eyes and her mom’s stubborn jaw, already a little sparkplug before she could even walk. Funny, bossy, so sure of herself. In ways Yeliza admired. Even when everything around them was falling apart, Mila made it feel like maybe — maybe — they could survive it.

But the world didn’t care.

Mila was only five years old when it all finally came crashing down. The symbiote war got worse, the raids more brutal. One night, another camp came for them — and when it was over, Bucky and Mila were gone. Just like that. Yeliza was left behind, with nothing but blood on her hands and a grief she has never gotten past. She doesn't want too.

*   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ @espercr: ‘ let’s go again. ’

SQUARED SHOULDERS DROP SLOWLY; strikes are measured, restrained, her hand a breath away from delivering a blow that would send the other sprawling. Aware of the line between teaching and hurting, holding back just enough to keep the lesson intact.

Sharp inhale as hands lowering back to her sides, her posture relaxes “  okay , if you're sure ?? ” she pauses minutely to grab her water bottle “ lets take fifteen, get some water and we can go over how you're doing so far. ”

*   ━━━━━━━━━━━━ @warender: ‘ you’re getting sloppy. ’ !!!

GLOVED KNUCKLES SKIM AIR — deliberate, restrained. She could end this if she wanted to, could drive Yana down into the dust like an afterthought. Instead, she lets the former widow dance along the frayed edges of her patience.

The words land harder than any strike. Something coils in Yeliza’s chest — pride, or perhaps the restless thing curled beneath her skin, thrumming to be unleashed. A grin cuts across her mouth, thin and wolfish. Fine. If that’s the game Yana wanted to play.

The next strike comes faster, knuckles grazing ribs with just enough force to leave a memory. “  Careful, ” she scoffs as her posture squares back up, “ poke the beast too many times and you might just get bitten. ”