#or when he said ‘you thing you’re expendable. but you’re wrong’

[yjhariani]

No Joke

Simon 'Ghost' Riley X GN!Reader

Warnings: Cognitohazard, profanity, mentions of Peanut (SCP-173).

A/N: Well, SCP x CoD? At last? This is based on the idea an anon gave me on my latest ask.

Simon noticed that the whole time, you were only staring at your dinner. Something felt off. You texted him earlier that you were released home early from work and that was not exactly making sense to him.

All Simon knew about your job was that you were military. He knew you were a part of a mobile task force, but for whom he had no idea. Whether it was a company or a government, he had no idea.

Also, your job paid you well. Your wages were way more than his.

Most of the time, Simon was not worried. He knew you were tough and could take care of yourself. However, this time was different. He felt something different.

You were sent home early. Something must have happened. It must be something bad because you were not blinking.

“You alright, love?” Simon asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, not looking up from your plate.

“You haven’t exactly been…,” Simon thought of a fitting word.

“Eating?” you asked.

“Blinking,” Simon clarified.

The mention of that made you look up at Simon and blinked. It was a relief for your eyes. You blinked a few more times, gently pressing the inner corners of your eyes.

“What happened?” Simon asked.

“I… something happened at work and I didn’t realise I brought it home. I’m sorry,” you rambled.

“What stuff?” Simon continued.

Here the two of you were back again. You had not been telling Simon anything work related and he got more and more worried every single time.

In the moment you and Simon were exchanging a glance, you came to a realisation that sooner or later you would have to tell him. The softest the conversation was, the more ideal it would be. This second was not exactly ideal, but it was not as harsh as the previous conversations.

“There’s a containment breach at work and I’m the first person to witness the entity. It took them some time to realise that a certain containment was… breaching and  I had to stand in the toilet, where I saw it, for almost an hour without blinking. I couldn’t even move,” you explained.

Simon raised his eyebrow and scrunched them at the same time. His hand stopped the spoon that was about to get into his mouth.

“Then, they sent people in and three people died within my arms reach in less than a second because we blinked at the wrong time,” you added. “After that, I still have to stare at this thing for the next half an hour while we put it into the container because apparently it’s my job.”

Putting down his utensils, Simon tried to make sense of your description. This was the most you had spoken of your job and he did not exactly understand what exactly your job was.

The choices of words you had were quite interesting. It took him another second to realise what you were talking about.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon said. “You’re working for the bloody Foundation.”

You were not surprised by his guess. In fact, it was a relief that you did not have to be the one to say it out loud.

“Yeah,” you said.

For a moment, Simon only looked at you.

“Are you fucking serious?” Simon questioned. “Bloody fuckin’ hell… this—what the fuck?”

You were the one looking at him confused now.

“I don't know much about the Foundation, but I know enough,” Simon said. “You’re dealing with some shit there, love, way more dangerous than the ones I’m dealing with day to day.”

“To be fair, the day to day is pretty much like every other forces. We do absolutely nothing. I’m dealing with the dangerous stuff only when there’s shit going on,” you explained. “Like this morning. Besides, I’m not usually the expendable soldier, this morning was just an accident.”

Simon pushed his chair back and stood next to your seat. He was not one to usually initiate an affectionate gesture, but this time he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

You pressed your face against his chest, wrapping your arms around his hips.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you any of those,” you said.

“Hey, look at me,” Simon lifted your face up with his hand. “You know what I do for a living and the shit I’m dealing with. If there’s a leak in my job, it won’t be me.”

You exhaled.

“I was so scared and my eyes are so dry, but I can’t bring myself to blink because I’m scared that something would snap my neck if I do,” you piled. 

“Nothing’s here but you and I, love,” Simon promised. “You’re safe.”

You wrapped your arms around him tighter and he responded the same. Eventually, Simon sat down on the chair next to you and pulled you onto his lap. You sat on his thigh, resting your cheek on his head. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Simon asked.

“Because you’ll be worried. Besides, the Foundation’s pretty strict with their assets. Most of the things I know are classified,” you answered. “I don’t want you to be worried.”

“I’ll always be worried. Your job is dangerous. Mine is like a walk in the park compared to yours,” Simon said.

“I’m still worried about you,” you admitted.

“You should be worrying more about yourself,” Simon said. “It’s no joke, anomalies.”

“I’ll always come back to you,” you promised.

“I appreciate that,” Simon said. “Now, you gotta eat your dinner and we’ll get you relaxed afterwards. You’ve had a rough day.”

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost

[littlespoonevan]

something struck me rewatching buck begins that i don’t think i ever really noticed before: when buck tells the team about daniel and the ways he used to put himself in danger to get his parents’ attention eddie’s immediate reaction is, “This explains so much about you.”

and like, he says it in a joking manner and the others definitely echo the sentiment but there’s something about that being eddie’s first reaction and then him specifically being the one to say he understood why buck stayed behind in the factory fire later on in the episode

because the thing is, eddie always knows what buck is thinking. he knew what buck needed in 3x01 to get him out of bed. he knew buck would be spiralling and blaming himself in 3x03 and how to make him stop. he knew why buck was acting the way he was in 3x18 when it came to trying to save sam. he knew in 4x04 why buck was so upset with his parents and what to say to validate his feelings. he’s always known buck, has always been able to guess his motivations and his reactions better than anyone else on the team - it’s why they make such good partners

but it’s not until 4x05 that this further context slots into place and changes things because he’s always known buck but now he understands so painfully clearly just about every single facet of who buck is as a person. and the fact that this carries on throughout the season, the fact that it ends in the will reveal, is so??????? there are so many people in buck’s life who have either unwittingly enabled or misjudged his self destructive tendencies. his parents missed the cry for help over and over again. abby and taylor both unconsciously reinforced the notion that people only care when he’s in danger/sacrificing himself. even the 118 who love and cherish buck so dearly don’t always understand the full extent of why he acts the way he does

but we’re shown over and over again that eddie gets it???????? and listen i’ve said it ten million times but the way s4 contrasts “you think you’re indestructible but you’re not” and “you’re not invincible” with “you act like you’re expendable but you’re wrong” is forever going to make me lose it

three sentences, all basically holding the same sentiment on the surface, but the word choice in all three so clearly demonstrates how the other characters view buck. and the only one that’s right, that gets it, that knows is eddie

i think with everything in s5 i sort of forgot just how much of buck and eddie’s scenes in s4 consist of eddie quietly observing buck. sandwiched between the kind of scenes we got in s3 and s5 it’s certainly a more subtle approach to their dynamic but god, there is something so fucking special about the fact that s4 buddie is just an ode to, “To be seen, to be found, isn’t that what we’re all searching for?”

#buddie #911 related #911 rewatch

[noya-noya-noya]

one of my favorite things about the whole buddie dynamics is the fact that while Buck is healing and beginning to choose himself (armchair scene) there's still a part of him that thinks he's only going to get love by risking his life, and that his life IS expendable. an "if I die, that's fine, but i sure would be sad if someone else dies" mentality.

it reminds me of that one line in inochi no kirawareteiru "Frankly, we don't care a bit if we, ourselves died but we'd be pretty said if the people around us died".

and Eddie... Eddie has been assuring him consistently that he is cherished, he is important, and he gets him out of his head when he's starting to spiral.

1...

Buck: I just, I wish I could- Eddie: Fix it? Buck: Yeah, yeah. I know I'm the guy who always wants to fix everything. Eddie: Hey! It comes in handy when you have a bunch of holes in your wall.

2...

Buck: They never wanted another kid. They just had me for parts. Defective parts, as it turned out.

Eddie: Hey, that's not on you.

3...

Eddie: I'd eat a couple extra slices. You look like you're wasting away to nothing.

Buck: Eddie--

Eddie:I will say, honestly, you being laid up is working out for me. I mean, you're no abuela, and you're half a Carla, but you'll do in a pinch.

Buck: You want me to watch Christopher?

Eddie: It's easy. He's not very fast.

Buck: After everything that happened?

Eddie: A natural disaster happened, Buck.

Buck: I lost him, Eddie.

Eddie: No, You saved him. That's how he remembers it. And now, it's his turn to do the same for you.

Buck: I was supposed to look out for him.

Eddie: And what, you think you failed? I failed that kid more times than I care to count, and I'm his father. But I love him enough to never stop trying, and I know you do too.

Eddie: Buck...there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.

Eddie: Thank you for not giving up

4...

Eddie: Are you hurt? (shooting scene)

5...

Buck: Now, listen, I had an entire fire truck fall on my leg, and hey, look at me now.

Eddie: *shakes his head*

Carson: That sounds horrible.

Buck: No, horrible was the blood clots you get after. Mine was in my lung. I was coughing up blood. And they put you on these blood thinners and...

Eddie: Buck.

(I always saw this as Eddie shaking his head because Buck was making fun of what happened to him and not because Buck might scare Carson because Carson wasn't really that scared anymore at that time)

6...

Bobby and Buck arrives at the firehouse, Eddie is alone and opens his arms, waiting to hear the news.

Bobby: Clean bill of health from the docs.

Eddie: Glad to hear it.

Eddie: Show-off.

Buck: I had to do it.

Eddie: No, I know you did.

7...

Doctor: We'll do our best.

Eddie: Do more!

and of course 8...

Eddie: Because, Evan you came in here the other day and you said you thought it would have been better if it had been you who was shot. You act like you are expendable, but you’re wrong.

there's probably a lot more but these are the top ones that I can think of.

i think for someone who lived their whole life looking for purpose (and somehow putting themself in harm's way is something they are accustomed to do) and having someone who has their back, defending them not just from others but their own mind as well, consistently, is a match incomparable.

#i cant think of what their love languages are but theres something there my brain just cant do it right now #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie brainrot is strong yet again #evan buckley #911 on fox #looks like im on tumblr to be a buddie analyser i do not like it #im just saying #buck and eddie love each other but in different ways #make it happen abc

[dreams-and-drabbles]

hiiii can i get more Al Haitham x reader content cuz I've been looking around and i cant find any -///-

right now i cant stop imagining him taking care of the reader when she got sick omg;-;

Tysm for the askkkkk!!! Hehe! I hope this is to your liking!!! <33

Alhaitham knows everything when it comes to getting sick, so fortunately you’re in luck. He prides himself on having knowledge in various things, or maybe he just likes knowing things(?) Either way, he knows exactly what you have, and what to do for it.

He noticed you were sick before you did. You were confused for several days, when he strongly suggested you drink water, or said you should sit down. Around a week or so later when the sickness really hit you, you finally figured out why he’d suggested you rest.

You stared at Alhaitham, slightly exasperated. He was sitting down on the edge of your bed, his legs crossed neatly over the other. Typical to his nature, he had his nose stuck in an incredibly thick book. One, that to your surprise was about homemade medicine and herbal remedies.

“Why don’t you ever say anything straightforward, I’m genuinely curious?”

You ask, your voice coming out in a thick rasp.

Alhaitham closed his book, before glancing at you with an elegantly raised brow.

“When someone is told something is wrong, usually their first response is to try and deny it. I’ve offered several straightforward solutions before, but people like to needlessly complicate things.”

You stare blankly at Alhaitham for a moment, before nodding. That was fair, you supposed…

Part of you wondered if he ever answered things simply, you felt as though he could say a single word and make it sound overly complex.

Still, your head hurt— Your throat was sore, and the last thing you wanted to do was think too in depth.

Your thoughts were fortunately broken when a cool sensation made its way to your head.

Alhaitham had pressed a cold rag against your forehead and you wondered when exactly he’d had the time to get up and grab it.

“You should stop. It’ll make it harder to rest.” He said, his tone cool.

You opened your mouth to respond, but started wheezing. Alhaitham left your side, heading to your kitchen. He returned a few moments later, and you barely managed to process what was going on, before he was helping you sit up. He held a bowl in his hand, full of warm lentil soup.

You grabbed for the bowl with shaky fingers, but he gracefully swapped hands.

“You plan to eat with your hands shaking like that?” He said, holding the bowl away from you.

You furrowed your brows, ready to protest, but as if he’d expected it, Alhaitham spoke again.

“Arguing expends energy, as well… If you address your illness the right way, it won’t last nearly as long.”

You let out a raspy sigh, begrudgingly allowing Alhaitham to help you eat the soup. After a few minutes, you end up dozing off.

When you wake the next morning, you’re shocked to find Alhaitham presenting you with yet another bowl of soup.

“I trust you can feed yourself this time. By evening you’ll be over the worst of it.”

True to his word, by dinner your fever had broken. To your surprise Alhaitham was still present. When you asked him why, he shrugged.

“There’s a recovery period, I’m taking precautions.”

You smiled at this, knowing this was his way of coming up with a reason to stick around a bit longer.

Alhaitham raised a brow, his lips quirking up into a smirk. “Don’t go needlessly complicating things…”

You returned the smirk with a smile of your own, “I thought people liked doing that?”

Alhaitham’s lips twitched, “I suppose they do.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin reader insert #al haitham #thanks for the ask! #al haitham x reader

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck and Eddie: Buck said, “I feel like she sees me”

(Clearing drafts before the end of season 6.)

When Buck said, “I feel like she sees me” it upset Eddie along with all the viewers who know EDDIE IS THE ONLY PERSON WHO TRULY SEES HIM.  It’s been bothering me for a week now and I finally figured out why.

Every woman Buck’s ever been with only saw one part of him and he’s constantly defined himself via his relationships without really being invested in them.

Hookup #1 - He met her on an app, they hooked up in the firetruck and when he asked her if he could get to know her better she said “You’re really good at whatever it is we just did but let’s not ruin it by getting to know each other better”.  He asked to get to know her but she didn’t want to get to know him.

Hookup #2 (snake handler) - He met her on a call and she saw Buck the Firefighter and nothing else.  Bobby fired him for his antics and even though she told Buck to call her, he probably didn’t since he got fired.

Dr. Wells - Looked at his Facebook page before he ever went into her office, so she saw a firefighter and that’s it.  She never wanted to get to know him.

Abby - Called him after she saw him on the news and even though she was his first real relationship, he didn’t make the choice because she pursued him.  Also, Bobby was the one who gave Buck advice on stepping in with her but it didn’t work and she still abandoned him. He told Maddie “I like the me that I am when I’m with her” but he was still defining himself based on what he thought they had and when she returned in 3x18, all she talked about was the things she wanted and needed but disregarded him completely.  He even told her that he was happy for her.

Taylor - First encounter was because she saw a hot firefighter and they hooked up in a bar.  When he went to apologize she reminded him that she bought him a drink.

Ali - Told him she didn’t know after the ladder truck explosion because she couldn’t be who she was if she stayed with him since he didn’t want to give up firefighting.

Taylor - He told her “I spent my whole life feeling like I wasn’t enough, so if you don’t want me” and when she said she did want him, he took that to mean she really wanted a relationship.  Things were never going to work with them because she never knew or saw all of him and when she put his family in danger, he had to end it.

Connor (old roommate) - acted like he really knew who Buck was to get him to agree to the sperm donation.  He told Buck he knew he had a good heart and isn’t that what Buck’s always wanted?

Natalia - is the one who’s giving him the “attention” he’s always wanted.  In his coma dream he told Bobby he finally felt like he mattered there in his other life, so when she was mesmerized by him dying, he believed that’s what he’s been looking for.  Someone to marvel at him and even though it looks like he’s more interested in learning more about his death and how he needs to accept it, he was happy someone wanted to hear his story about dying without making him feel bad about it.

Eddie

Eddie SEES ALL OF BUCK and that’s a fact but Buck’s too caught up in his own head to realize it.

"There’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you."

"No one will ever fight for my son as hard as you and that’s what I want for him."

"You act like you’re expendable... but you’re wrong."

"You died Buck.  I found the best way to process is to allow yourself to feel it."

"You don’t have to be anything for anybody."

Is Buck finally getting it?  It seems like he is and it’s painful to watch but he said, “I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else” which means he’s been pretending and he knows it but he’s not ready to look too closely at it because he’s close to understanding his heart has and still does belong to Eddie.

Buck admitted in 6x13 “Mixed Feelings” that he’s the one with the answers and Eddie acknowledged it in 6x15 “Death and Taxes” so Buck’s the one who has to figure things out since Eddie already knows.  Another thing is Buck has to realize Eddie is an option so he’ll stop “hiding his true feelings” (that’s what he told Dr. Copeland in 4x2).  Eddie’s waiting for Buck to finally get it and it appears he just might get it in 6x18 when he might lose Eddie again.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox #911 on fox #911onfox #911 abc #911 meta #911 on abc #911 #911 season 6 #911 season 6 speculation #911 s6 #anti taylor kelly #anti ali martin #anti abby clark #Anti Connor and Kameron #anti natalia

[photogirl894]

My gosh, I have so many thoughts about the new Bad Batch episode...read my long rambling at your own risk 😜

First of all, when Lieutenant Nolan referred to Clones as “used equipment”...oooohhhhh my blood had never boiled so much so quickly!! I literally snapped at my scream, “You freaking bitch!” Cuz nobody disses my Clone boys like that!! Hated him immediately (though I’m pretty sure that was the point)

I liked Mayday and it made me kind of sad hearing the hesitation from Crosshair before saying his name to him. He’s gotten so used to being called by a number and no one has wanted or used his name since Cody. I can’t even imagine the hell he’s been through since returning to Coruscant from Kamino. I feel so sorry for him.

Not gonna lie, I really thought when Crosshair stepped on that mine that it was gonna turn into a “I’m gonna die if I move off this grenade and now I’m suddenly full of regret” scene/episode that would make Crosshair realize he really made the wrong choice and he misses his brothers. It made me sad when he mentioned them to Mayday. It was one brief mention, but it was still enough to know that he thinks about them. Luckily, the detonator didn’t go off and nothing happened, so that was good. 

Then I kept thinking Crosshair and Mayday were gonna get trapped in that tunnel especially when the ceiling started shaking. There were a lot of moments where I thought something was gonna happen and then it didn’t, which kept me on edge the whole time (more than I already was) Then with the avalanche, I thought they would manage to outrun it or find a spot to hunker down and wait it out, but no, they both got caught in it!! Like what is this??

The new armor for the new military and Mayday lamenting over their place now in the galaxy...I said out loud, “Listen to him, Crosshair! Listen to him!! He’s speaking truth, everything you’ve done for the Empire is amounting to nothing! This isn’t where you belong!”

Crosshair panicking over Mayday and then carrying him so far to safety...this is what really got me. This is Crosshair...an enhanced Clone who despised regular Clones...who was now carrying a regular Clone through blizzards and treacherous snow to try and save his life! A reg, of all people!! All that time, Crosshair believed he was superior to regular Clones (”We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior.”/Hunter says they’ll phase out Clones: “Not the ones that matter.”) and then he literally risked his life for a reg. TALK ABOUT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!! Oh Crosshair, my boy, you’re growing up...you’re beginning to see the light at long last...And then, to make it even more heartbreaking, he begged for the Lieutenant to help Mayday and I mean begged, literally on his knees and everything! If anyone had told Crosshair some time ago that he would do such a thing, there’s no way he would’ve believed them. And once again, hearing Nolan’s awful and degrading comments about how Crosshair and the Clones are all expendable...he was making me want to commit murder! I was furious!!

And then...the defining moment...Crosshair shooting Lieutenant Nolan to avenge Mayday!! He killed an Imperial to avenge the death of a reg, once again something he would’ve never fathomed doing before. First of all, I know a lot of people said they cheered at that moment. I couldn’t. I was too in shock at the fact that Crosshair had actually done that. It was something I had hoped he would do for a long time (though for a while I wished it had been Rampart) showing that he was actually going to defect from the Empire, but I didn’t believe it would actually happen. Then to see it with my very eyes...all I could do was gasp and wait with bated breath. I was happy; he had finally come to see the true nature of the Empire and was making the right choice, but then I was afraid because I knew he would be in trouble!

And Crosshair is most DEFINITELY in trouble now because he’s in possibly the worst place he could be in at Mount Tantiss and I am terrified of what’s going to happen to him!!

Crosshair had been told over and over again by Hunter that the Empire didn’t give a shit about him and he refused to listen...he saw slight examples of it with Rampart and he refused to see the truth...it took him hearing it from an actual Imperial for him to finally see the light. He had to hear the words “you’re expendable” from someone of the Empire for the message to finally sink in and for him to realize he’s made the wrong choice. The symbolism of him on his knees, wrought so low, in front of an Imperial who thinks Crosshair is below him is just incredibly humbling imagery and I feel that too helped drive it all home for Crosshair. He may never acknowledge aloud that Hunter was right and he was wrong, but I’m sure at this point, he still knows it deep down. I was so proud of him for finally seeing the truth and doing something right about it. While his choice may result in terrible consequences, it was still a step in the right direction that I am praying fervently pays off eventually. I need him back with his brothers and sister. I don’t know how it’s going to happen, but I really hope it does.

The next episode is called “Pabu”...which offers us no clue as to what it’s going to be about at all! Most of the time, we can infer what a new episode might be about based on the title and possibly based on events from previous episodes...”Pabu” gives us nothing at all and I feel like that was done on purpose!! They give us this emotionally devastating episode and then no hint as to what’s coming next. Will it be another Crosshair episode? Will it go back to the Batch? Will it be Rex and Echo this time? Or something totally different? We have no idea and that scares me even more.

I may not be a Crosshair simp, but I still love him dearly and even though he’s been incredibly frustrating since season 1, all I’ve wanted was for him to have his eyes opened to the truth surrounding him and come to his senses. I just want him home with his family where he truly belongs. His time with the Empire is coming to an end; the end is just on the horizon. I’m still holding to the hope that he will make it through this redemption arc without having to die. Everyone compares him to Zuko and Kallus, who both were redeemed with wonderfully written arcs without dying and I’m praying hard that the same will happen to Crosshair. I know there’s a few theories I’ve seen of what could happen moving forward in the last 4 episodes of the season, but I almost don’t want to think of any of those cuz all of them make me anxious and I don’t want them to happen, even though more than likely one of them just might.

This episode, while heartbreaking and devastating, was absolutely incredible. I’m now beginning to see why everyone who saw the show before it aired said Crosshair is the standout of the season. This is just the beginning for him and I look forward to (and dread) seeing what the rest of the season is going to be like for him. I love him, I missed him and I’m proud of him after this episode.

Final note: freaking Dee Bradley Baker deserves a freaking award for his voice acting for Crosshair after this episode!!! Seriously, the depth and raw emotion I could hear in his voice when talking about Clone Force 99, when panicking over Mayday, when begging the Lieutenant to save his friend and then seething with rage when nothing was done and Mayday died...was absolutely top tier voice acting! This man continues to amaze me with his range of talent! One moment, he can make you swoon with a Clone’s voice and then the next, he can break your heart with it. No wonder he loved this episode so much and Crosshair was his favorite Batcher to voice because of it.

Okay, long ramble over! I just have so many thoughts about this episode and I’m pretty sure not all of them even made it into this post. It’s going to take me until the next episode for me to fully process everything that happened. I was not prepared for all of this...and frankly, I’m not prepared for the next 4 episodes either. This is going to be one hell of a ride, my friends, as we near the season finale. 

May the Force be with us all.

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch crosshair #bad batch season 2 #bad batch season 2 spoilers #tbb spoilers

[indulgentandidiotic]

TWST w/ An MC From The World of ALICE IN THE COUNTRY OF HEARTS Series (HC/THOUGHT) Riddle/Ace

Warnings: mentions of death, murder, etc. Nothing graphic GN Reader

A/N Riddle/Ace with an mc from the universe of Alice in the Country of Hearts. To go into more detail, Alice– is an older manga I read the first volume of. As to not spoil anything, I’ll just say that mc being from Alice– means that they don’t view life with much value. The role that one plays in that world is all that matters, and every life is expendable. One from that world could throw around the topic of death as casually as saying the weather is nice today. … Enjoy the random thoughts I had!!

.~ Heartslabyul: When you came to Twst through the mirror, everyone thought you were perfectly normal. You were nice, smart, charming, etc. No one thought a thing was amiss… until… the Riddle Overblot incident. While Riddle was on a beheading rampage, you reacted very shockingly.

  - You, utterly perplexed: What? Housewarden Riddle, why isn’t that student’s head rolling? And where’s all the blood? That student doesn’t look dead..   - The Adeuce, Grim, and Riddle gang: What the fuck?   Riddle considered beheading you, too, in all his confusedness and anger, but couldn’t bring himself to. The way you talked about death was so… nonchalant, it was unsettling.

  When Riddle overblotted, you were immediately asked to help solve the situation. But the way you handled it was downright horrifying.   - You, completely serious and monotone: Why don’t we kill him?   - The Heartslabyul gang + Crowley + Grim: *speechless*   - You: Well, cuz you guys said he could hurt someone, and obviously he’s not fit for this role if he ‘overblotted’. I mean, we can always find another housewarden! So why don’t we just dispose of him if he’s causing trouble?

  Cue everyone in the room starting to scream to you about how you can’t just say things like that! And you just being utterly confused bc, really, it’s not such a big deal!   After the gang convinces you to actually help instead of rushing to kill Riddle with- wait, where’d you get that axe?!!! (good thing you’re reasonable and open-minded), and Riddle is finally in the infirmary resting, you go to talk to him.   - You, totally serious and casual: Housewarden, it’s a good thing you snapped back to your senses when you did, otherwise you wouldn’t be here anymore.   - Riddle: D:> Riddle Rosehearts: Initially, Riddle was terrified of you. The way you always spoke of his beheading spell as if you were almost disappointed it didn’t actually murder people, the way you so nonchalantly mentioned thinking about killing him when he overblotted, the way you wish people to die when they slight you as casually as one might mention the the weather~ But as time passed, he realized maybe you weren’t too frightening.. After all, you were mostly respectful, followed the rules, were thoughtful, and resourceful, practically all the things Riddle appreciated in a person. And he grew to enjoy your company, too. You, who always listened to him rant about his awful day, studied with him, helped him scare kick his dormmates back in line…

  Romantic?: If Riddle ends up courting you, it’s very similar to a regular healthy relationship, except for the fact that he now has to stop you from murdering someone for looking at him wrong tenfold and becomes way more involved with fixing your twisted way of thinking about life. Not to say that he didn’t care before, but now he feels.. almost responsible for you. He needs to make sure you stop egging him on to decapitate someone with his spell, and he especially needs to help you boost your self worth. Not that you necessarily had low self esteem, but living in the country of Hearts made you grow up believing that lives didn’t matter- only roles did. You didn’t matter, only your job in that world did. Of course, while it was possible to convince you to change your thinking, it would take a long while. And the cutest thing? Now Riddle and you can go on your journeys of change together!!     Extra: Sometimes you ask Riddle if really deep inside his heart of hearts he’s really a sadistic, frivolous, bloodthirsty queen who’s dream would be to behead everyone whom he finds amusing. He collars you.

.~

Ace Trappola: When you causally mentioned perishing Riddle as a viable solution, he thought you were joking. Really. Because, who says things like that? He may have been done with Riddle’s shit but he wasn’t that hateful! And when you mentioned that if killing Riddle would make Ace happy again, you would do it in a heartbeat, he both wanted to tease you for being so serious and “romantic” and also scream at you. Because really, what the fuck?! - After the overblot incident, Ace and your relationship righted itself slightly. Ace was still utterly terrified of you, and teased you as subtly and as least aggravatingly as possible (he was too hot to die!!). But he also got way invested in the world you came from. What are the values of your world? Why are you like this? - After telling Ace how your world worked and how you were raised, Ace has long forgotten his terror, and is livid. How dare your world lead you to believe you were nothing more than an insignificant little cog meant to keep the clock running.. that could easily be replaced if broken! Oh, Ace and his adorable sense of justice~ Now Ace is by your side 25/8, not only getting closer to you as a friend, but also helping you realize the worth of people, and how you truly are more than just an ant in an anthill.    

Romantic?: I don’t think Ace’s relationship with you will change much now that it’s romantic. He’s maybe now so comfortable with you that he teases you relentlessly- I mean, you love him don’t you? You wouldn’t dream of hurting cute lil’ him! In all honesty, I can’t see your view of life making much of a difference in how your romantic endeavors with these men would go…     Extra: You once told Ace about the man in your world with the exact same name as him. You told him that the Ace of your world was nowhere near as cute as Twst’s Ace, and way less creepy, too. Ace still thinks about those words to this day. He kind of wants to meet this… “Ace of your world..” That is all for now! Feel free to ask questions and request stuff from me! I have recently gotten back my passion for writing, and I’m excited to share my random thoughts with you. I doubt anyone has written something like this nor cared to ask for this, but I wanted to write it. So I did- and I’m nowhere near done. Besides, I’m not writing this stuff for just anyone! I’m a heavily indulgent goat, after all~ Next is…. the rest of the Heartslabyul gang!!! Plus some misc. stuff maybe.

#indulgent writing 🍓 #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #alice in the country of hearts #ace trappola x reader #formatted weirdly bc tired #previously found on theheavilyinulgentgoat. but no more

[whimsicalmeerkat]

WIP Whenever

@dear-massacre tagged me for this and I finally remembered to post it. This is from my wip titled wash off all this blame.

~

“How did you sell this to my dad?”

Derek rolls his head to face him, like lifting it off the back of the couch and turning it is more effort than he’s willing to expend. It’s late—Stiles isn’t sure how late, but definitely well past midnight. He’s been wondering about this for days.

“I told him I wanted to see if I could help you by trying some of the things that helped me.”

Derek’s voice is soft, almost lazy. Stiles waits, but it seems like that’s all he’s going to say.

“Did you tell him what those things were? Because we haven’t been doing much besides hangout on the beach and watch movies, and none of that sounds like it belongs in the John Stilinski Cure for Trauma.”

Stiles resists the urge to make air quotes. Derek’s lips twitch before settling into something more neutral.

“He didn’t ask for specifics. I’m not sure if he decided he could trust me or it was something else that convinced him, but he agreed to let me try to help you.”

“He was probably just desperate. I keep trying not to worry him, but I can’t stop the nightmares and he can tell when I don’t sleep.”

Derek hums, but doesn’t say anything. Stiles rolls his head back to face thr tv after a moment. It isn’t even playing anything, just displaying the Netflix menu on mute. Stiles considers trying to find something else to watch, but he doesn’t want to disturb the sense of peace he’s feeling.

“Someone who loves you being worried about you doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

Apparently Derek isn’t as committed to maintaining silence as Stiles. He considers that idea. He can see why Derek said it. He can also see how it’s true sometimes. After all, it isn’t his dad’s fault that he has the kind of career that worries Stiles. There’s a huge difference between that and the things his dad has to worry about, though. They’re not the same thing at all.

“Decided to make me talk after all?”

He snapped the words, trying to use them as a weapon in the hopes it will deflect Derek. Or maybe piss him off. Stiles could go for an argument right now.

Instead, Derek sighs then picks up the remote and starts flipping through the menu. Stiles stares blankly at the screen, just trying not to think.

~

If you see this, consider yourself tagged!

#sterek #teen wolf #fanfic #wash off all this blame #author:whimsicalmeerkat

[delkios]

Some years ago I had it in my head to write a plot heavy RepComm fic, set in Clone Wars, that I wanted Fixer to take the lead roll in. I admit I tend to favor him in my work mainly because most people don't do anything with him. I love Delta Squad pretty equally as a a group and individuals as they all tick different boxes on my 'Fav Characterizations' list. Except for Boss who is objectively The Best. Unfortunately, because writing plot-centric long fic is a bit of a struggle for me, I never really got more than a vague idea of "clones that work off the front lines because they're no longer able to fight are disappearing, someone needs to play bait and find out what's happening to them". I thought maybe they were being sold as trophies or for gladiatorial sport or as part of a Most Dangerous Game scenario but never quite found anything that resonated. I kept it on the back burner, thinking I'd figure it out eventually, but after a couple years of not looking at it I've decided that's not going to happen. But the few things I've managed to write I quite enjoy so I'm sharing those here.

(scene: Luminara works with Delta Squad to find out what's happened to the missing clones, Delta Squad argues who gets to play bait and who will be following the trail.)

“With all due respect, sir, I believe I’d be better suited for this mission.”

It took a moment for Boss to register what had just been said and who said it. He turned to Fixer with a bewildered, “What?”

“You would be better suited to help the general track me down. I’m confident I can handle the situation.”

“Well, since we’re airing out our opinion,” Sev pointed a thumb at himself, “I’m the one that got highest scores in survival training, if anyone can handle being dropped into the unknown, it’s me.”

“Absolutely not. There’s no discussion.” Boss rounded on the both of them. “Whoever is going down there will be without support and likely without supplies. We need flexibility and adaptability. I’m going.”

“You’re not going to volunteer in?” Luminara asked with mild amusement.

Scorch waved a hand with a laugh. “Nah. My preferred skillsets aren’t going to be that useful in this kind of situation.”

“Again: survival. Me.” Sev growled.

“And if there’s equipment available to create a tracking beacon, I’m the only one of us capable of building one from scratch.”

That seemed to throw the other two for a moment. Sev waved a hand in acquiesce but Boss rallied. “I have the best weapons and unarmed combat record. If there’s anything dangerous down there, I’ll have a better chance in subduing it.”

“And my record is right behind yours,” Fixer countered coolly. “There isn’t much that you can handle that I can’t.”

(snip)

“It makes more sense for me to go- if anything goes wrong, I’m more expendable than you are.”

“Okay, hold up, stepping in now,” Scorch said, pushing away from the wall and moving to the middle of the discussion. He pointed a finger at Fixer and said, “You are never allowed to say that again. Or anything like it.”

“It’s not-”

“Ah, ah. No excuses, no deflecting. You’re not allowed to say or think that you’re more expendable than the rest of us. Go it?”

“Six-two-”

“You say yes or I’ll tell Sev what you did to his helmet.”

Sev swiveled his head between the two. “Wait- what about my helmet?”

“Sev,” Scorch said dryly, “do you mind not interrupting?”

Fixer crossed his arms and looked to Boss who just shrugged and said, “He’s just saying what I would.”

Fixer sighed. “Fine. I won’t say that again.”

“What happened to my helmet?”

(I need more Deltas- or clones in general -being petty brothers to each other. There's no way that they're not.)

---

(scene: Fixer meets some of the clones that had recently disappeared. The people that caught him believe he's a regular CT which he's posing as, the CTs immediately recognize that he's not. Fixer might be used to having to take charge of the squad when Boss is unavailable but I thought it would be interesting in having him interact and lead clones he's unfamiliar with.)

“You can call him Nice.”

Fixer tilted his head to one side. “Nice?”

‘Nice’ sighed in a way that felt achingly familiar to Fixer. “I’m CT-6969.” Fixer just looked at him blankly and Nice fidgeted under the stare. “It… it’s a sex joke.”

“I’m aware.” He just didn’t know how that correlated with ‘nice’.

(did I make a character for the sole purpose of making a sex joke? Yes, and I have no regrets.)

---

(scene: a group of armed individuals go after the clones, Fixer stays back to cover their escape. Flashback.)

“Fairness,” Vau had said, the word like a rotten thing in his mouth, “does not exist. It especially does not exist for the likes of you. You are soldiers, therefore you are expected to sacrifice for those unwilling to sacrifice. You are clones, therefore you will never be seen as a true person. You will never know freedom, you will never have a choice and no one will care. You are slaves for a war that has yet to begin to protect people who do not know you exist and will not mourn when you die. A lesser being would crack under that knowledge but you will not. You will endure, you will overcome. You will be the fiercest, hardest, most ruthless beings in the galaxy because that is the only way you will survive its cold indifference. Now,” Vau slammed his beskad to the floor, the sound of it ringing through the training room. Fixer’s hands flexed, breathing slow and steady despite his heart racing and anxious sweat prickling at his brow as he stood, unarmed and unarmored, surrounded by a squad in full training armor, ready to come down on him from all sides. His squadmates, like Fixer, like many unlucky others chosen for the exercise, stood in their own circles, waiting for the order to be given. “Show me who among you have what it takes to become a true ramikad. Begin.”

(I imagine Vau tended to make his exercises a level harder than what the other trainers did. Setting his commandos up to fail if they didn't think smarter, act quicker, fight harder. Never sugar coating how little their lives would mean to anyone but teaching them they would never need anyone's approval or kindness, even his. Whether he succeeded or if that was the right thing to do is up to the reader.)

---

“As they say: the enemy of my enemy is a useful tool.”

Tio hesitated. “Uh, isn’t it the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

Fixer blinked at him. “What sense does that make? That’s just asking to be betrayed.”

“...you commandos must’ve had gone through some karked up training.”

(As much as Vau scoffed at other trainers as being soft on their commandos, they're still very much commandos. So having their habits and teachings contrasting with CTs who didn't have such brutal, cutthroat trainers and likely had more exposure to 'normal' people is interesting to me.)

---

(scene: after Delta Squad and Luminara and her troops arrive, taking out whoever was here and saving the captured clones. This is Delta reuniting with Fixer)

An arm snaked around Fixer’s neck and his body was stretched back over hard armor as Sev put him in a chokehold. “You were the reason why my helmet smelled like a kriffing gym locker room for a month? Do you know how many times I bitched to requisitions about faulty filters?”

It wasn’t a serious hold and Fixer could crane his head enough to not pass out. “You got me written up for bypassing the GAR’s holonet restrictions!”

“That wasn’t me, di’kut! Scorch implicated you when some uptight officer caught him distributing porn to the regs!”

“To be fair,” Scorch added quickly, “the implication that I was getting the material from you happened before I got caught.”

Fixer boggled. “Why were you distributing porn to the regs?”

“Hey, I am an accidental entrepreneur. I was just selling pirated unrated cuts of movies and then I started getting requests and the next thing I knew,” Scorch clapped his hands, “boom- I’m running an underground porn supply line.”

Fixer turned to Boss accusingly, “Did you know about all this?”

“Look, if I want to keep tabs on what the three of you do at all times, I’d never get any sleep. Don’t try to pin any of this on me.”

(There is no way the clones were allowed unrestricted access to basically anything, let alone the holonet which would be like the internet times, like, fifty. The fact that they were given holonet access at all was probably such a novelty and gave them a sense of freedom that they probably didn't notice or care that they were essentially parental controlled. Fixer, in Legends continuity, got Delta Squad's terminal taken away during training because Vau worried he'd hack Kamino's mainframe. I don't doubt one of the first things he did when he had time was to see if the GAR set up any holonet restrictions and getting around them. He likely didn't actually care about what was being restricted, he just saw a challenge to overcome. Scorch, being the kind of guy that people would feel more comfortable talking to, saw the potential it offered: oh, you guys like this movie? Did you know there's an unrated version that I could get you a copy of for, let's say, extra rats, some loose ammo and first crack at that blaster cannon that's going to salvage, whaddya say? It kind of snowballed on him from there but hey. Man knows how to adapt, he could definitely work with this. Until he got caught.

Sev tends to look for trouble and Scorch tends to make trouble. Fixer's troublemaking is generally a byproduct of boredom. At some point Boss just has to say they're someone else's problem or he'll collapse from exhaustion.)

---

(scene: epilogue, Delta Squad ready to deploy and the clones Fixer helped free say their farewells.)

“I appreciate your help, Sixty-Nine.”

Behind him, Sev snorted and Scorch cackled. “Nice.”

Nice’s expression was a mask of eternal suffering.

(Fixer is probably the only person that hasn't snickered at his number and for that Nice will always hold him in the highest regard.)

#republic commando #unfinished fic

[rombastic]

I’m a no op/T transman, who has little to no body dysphoria and I’m tired. for a few years now I’ve felt awkward correcting people when they misgender me, only whispering a meek “he” under my breath or putting my pronouns next to my name on zoom and social media. I don’t want to make it a thing, grind things to a halt just for that, or make things awkward. it feels humiliating and exhausting to constantly have to come out over and over and over. I rationalize “well I’ll never see them again” “it’s not the right time” “it’s not worth it” and then it will build up and up and up until I’m drowning in dysphoria, asking myself why I can’t just have an identity people can understand.

I used to look back at highschool me, who would snap at people who misgendered him or said the wrong name, who cried and got upset and made a fuss and stood his ground, and cringe, embarrassed at being so sensitive and making such a big deal out of everything. of being too much, too loud, not having a thicker skin.

But now, I envy him. 14 y/o me was brave, so much braver than me. He knew who he was and he wasn’t going to let other people ignore that. He was strong in ways I’ve let go in the name of being “mature”. I’m not mature, I’m a doormat,  smoothing myself down so much that people just walk right over me. This isn’t reading a room it’s self harm, hurting myself by neglecting my boundaries for other people’s convenience. and I’m tired of it. If being an inconvenience, or cringe, or too much is what it takes to be myself then I’m going to be all those things.

So to all my fellow non transitioning trans and nonbinary people, being no or never op/hrt doesn’t make your identity less valid, less worthy of defending. transphobes and truscum have pounded it into our heads that we’re faking, that were cringe, that we’re just cis people wanting to be special, and that we can’t expect people to gender us correctly if we’re “not gonna try”. But their wrong, we should stand our ground, we should correct people, we should demand respect, we should expect people to treat us with respect. yes it won’t come easy, and people won’t see us that way right away, but if we want to change things from what ‘is’ to what ‘Ought’ to be then we have to start by demanding more than what is easy for people to understand. 

Your pronouns and words and names are not an inconvenience, you’re happiness as a trans/nonbinary person is not expendable, not worth less then other people’s. You have every right to correct people and demand they respect your boundaries.

To every no/never op/hrt feminine trans man and masculine transwoman, to nonbinary people of all stripes, gender fluid and multigendered people, people with complicated labels, people with multiple names and pronoun sets, people who uses neopronouns, if you have people in your life that you are out to that don’t respect you’re pronouns or use the wrong name, correct them and don’t stop correcting them until they use the right ones. be cringe, be too much, be too loud, don’t settle for being anything but yourself. You’re worth it.

#non binary #lgbt #gnc #mogai #non-op trans #non-hrt trans #transunity #neopronouns #multigender #jay talks #vent kinda #positivity #transphobia

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

Loss

The Bad Batch (PLATONIC) • They/Them Pronouns • Medic!Reader • ANGST/SFW • TW: Anxiety Attacks / Nightmares / Triggers

Requested by: Anon

You’ll save m-me right?

I-It’s not that bad, I-I-I’ll be okay

Please…I don’t wanna die

Y/N jolts awake feeling their chest tighten and the air fail to reach. They fisted the sheets for some form of purchase but the antagonizing struggle to catch a single breath.

Eventually, the medic managed to get up and roam the halls of Kamino late at night in search for the medbay. Hopefully a sedative cocktail will knock them out enough to still function the next morning.

“Y/N?” The voice cut through Y/N’s current rushing thoughts but they immediately came back and tuned said voice out.

Ignoring it, Y/N walked past it as they entered the medbay only to feel a hand grab them. Without any chance to recuperate, Y/N forced their arm back accidentally elbowing the medicine cabinet behind them breaking the glass. Then it came clear that it was Tech speaking to them. He quickly grabbed their shoulders making them look at him.

“Take a deep breath. Come on” Tech inhales waiting for Y/N to mimic as they did a few seconds after, then exhaled after holding for a moment. “Okay, again”

This went on for a while…

Next thing you know, Y/N was treating Tech’s plasma burn after he helped them get a bacta patch on their elbow. They avoided eye contact the entire time but Tech wasn’t going to leave until he felt okay enough to let them be alone.

“What were you coming in for?”

“To help you?”

“I didn’t comm you because it is 3am” Tech frowns watching their hands tremble slightly. “You had an anxiety attack, and are still suffering from such”

“It’s…it’s uh. It’s really nothing Tech, I’m fine”

“You can be honest with me, Y/N” He frowns watching them finish the bandage before taking their hand into his. “What is happening?”

“I-I feel like…the more stuck I am here…the more death I’ll face and I can’t lose anymore…”

“Well if this is about clo—-“

“You’re not expendable. You’re my family and it hurts watching you die” The few tears that fell were immediately taken care of by Tech’s gentle touch of his fingers brushing them away.

“Do you want to be left alone, or would you like me to stay? Or even better…”

Didn’t take long for the medic to find themself snuggled up in Tech’s crushing embrace as he found several studies about cuddling or a tight enough embrace can reduce stress. Maker knows he needed this as well.

•

“He’s gone…” Fives frowns feeling the weight build on his chest after telling Y/N the news. “H-He just…I-I…” he handed off the damaged helmet that belonged to Echo watching Y/N shake as they took a hold of his damaged helmet. “…I-I know it’s not protocol but this…it’s been three weeks…”

“I can give you a sedative, Fives. B-But uh. You’re shipping out soon so”

“I-It’s fine. I’ll see what Kix could do for me later but I just…”

Neither of them found the words anymore and Y/N did what he requested while also informing Kix in case of anything.

Another late night for the medic trying to keep it together for their patients while dealing with the news. Finding themselves staying late and lost in thought.

Echo…

Y/N held their chest feeling the same tightness as before return but remembered the breathing techniques Tech informed them of. But as much as it helped, the sobbing still remained. When the door opened to the medbay, their annoyance came out with a groan. Mainly toward themselves for crying still when someone had entered the room.

Then the way his crushing embrace was more of a soothing one this time around. Y/N leaned back into Wrecker’s embrace letting the tears continue to fall as he didn’t ask them what’s wrong. They’d tell him when they’re ready and that piece of knowledge was all they needed to know that they’re okay to fall apart.

Around the right people…

•

“Welcome back, Y/L/N” Hunter greets the medic who’s no longer working in the facilities and back on the field with their squadron.

“This rotation better not be chaotic like all the other ones”

“No promises” Cross chimes in as he walks past the two to load up his weapon’s locker and everything he’ll need for the mission.

“You four still owe me a drink by the way”

“We’ll get you one when we stop by Courscant and hit up 79’s” Hunter wraps an arm around their medic smiling to himself. It’s nice having them back. Their work shore leave lasted too long for his comfort.

Things…took a turn for the worse

Injury Report: Clone Force 99 (aka The Bad Batch)

CT-9901 (Hunter): Small laceration on the face, bruising on the arms and soreness followed.

CT-9902 (Wrecker): Blow to the head resulting in unconsciousness, head lac (stitched and disinfected)

CT-9903 (Tech): Dislocation in the right shoulder (if still in pain upon arrival to Kamino, he’ll be put in a bacta tank), medium lactations from bomb shrapnel in the left side of his torso (stitched and disinfected)

CT-9904 (Crosshair): Will need to be put in bacta tank given his right broken femur

Y/N finished the report after they had checked the three placed in the bunks on the Marauder. They gave both Tech and Crosshair sedatives to sleep through the flight as Wrecker was already unconscious but he was showing good signs of waking soon. Hunter took care of piloting when he needed to other than auto.

Hunter froze for a second when he heard rapid heart beating and thought one of his brothers was in distress. A quick switch to auto as he got up to check the bunks seeing that they were fine in their sleeping bliss. So obviously.

He could die if you missed something

His vitals were strange at first, they could spike or tank again

He can die. He can di—-

“Y/N?”

The medic quickly looks up from their reports squeezing the datapad trying to calm down but Hunter’s worry got the best of him. He found a comfy spot right beside Y/N on the floor of the storage compartment wrapping his arm around their shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

“…nothing. It’s Uhm…I don’t know Hunter”

“Just. Say everything on your mind and I’ll help you the best I can” Hunter smiles knowing the right things to say, and knowing exactly what to do for his medic…his friend…his family.

Talking about Echo hurt, talking about all the lives they’ve lost hurt, and internalizing it didn’t help their life.

But Hunter made sure of it…that nothing more would happen. No more loss…he’ll do his best to make sure nothing ever affects them such a way so negatively…

•

Crosshair, stubborn as he was, hated being in bacta for so long. He felt sick every time he got in and out of it. No matter how long the period was. When his brothers recovered and cleared, he still was forced to stay behind.

And Y/N refused to leave him alone. Granted he’s not a huge fan of medical droids…

______

“DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME” The new sniper snaps at the droids trying to strap him to the table to check his injures and sedate him.

“Cross. We—They need to check you out” a nervous analyst tried to calm his brother as the sniper grabbed one of the droids tossing it into the wall screaming out of anger and pain.

“S-Should I grab him?” The quieter brute asks his brother with no facial tattoo as he tried approaching the sniper who started shaking out of anxiety pushing over another droid and flinching to the clash.

None of the four heard the double doors open as the Kaminoan lead the new medic into the room to assist the situation. Before immediately ducking when the smaller transport droid was tossed toward their direction.

“What should we do?”

“H-He’s hurt. He’s going to pass out”

“Or hurt himself more”

“Excuse me…” The medic caught the three’s attention while the sniper continued to do his thing. “May I?”

The obvious leader got out of their way pulling his smaller brother close to him as the brute acted as a shield in case of anything. But the four brothers watched as the droids stopped approaching and suddenly turned off. The sniper quickly turning to the medic seeing the remote in hand that handles control for every droid in the room at that time. He suddenly held himself stepping back as his back pressed against the wall while they slowly approach moving a few droids move along the way.

“Next time request for me to assist your injuries. Clearly, droids aren’t your favorite” They said as softly as they could watching him relax a tad. “Can I get a name?”

“CT—-“

“No, I know you have a name…You’re not a number”

The tension instantly relieved itself in the room as the sniper softens before them.

“C-Crosshair…” Cross sheepishly admits that’s what he picked his name to be as the medic held their hands out for him to take carefully.

“Nice to meet you Crosshair, now can I please assess your injuries?”

“I-Uhm—“

“It’s Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t let anybody else touch you okay? We’ll take this one step at a time”

______

The sniper sat up in the bacta bath as all he needed was for his lower half to be submerged. He watches his medic take inventory of all the travel patches, put in new orders for certain medicines, check his vitals every ten minutes, put in orders for future exams to other patients, and practically do their job when they were stationed in Kamino. But every now and then, his medic would sit beside him for ten minutes of each hour to read over old cases. Deceased cases. The sadness in their face only made him upset and every time he tried to talk, it was usually at the end of the ten minutes before they got back up to work again.

Then when it was about time to be taken out of the bacta tank for the night and carefully placed on a bed to sleep the night, Crosshair suddenly grabbed their wrist to keep them from leaving and looked them square in the eye.

“I know when you’re not okay, and you don’t have to tell me…But I’m here. In any way possible” Cross frowns releasing their wrist as Y/N stood for a moment before walking away from his bed to turn the main medbay lights off letting the night ones turn on. He was expecting them to leave but to his surprise, Y/N pulled a comfortable chair over to sleep in for the night.

Y/N sat beside him feeling the tears instantly roll off their face as Cross was quick to take care of a few.

“I don’t want to lose any of you”

“It’s going to take a lot to tear us apart” He reassures continuing to take care of the tears as he gently lifts their chin for them to lock eyes. “We’re not going anywhere…I’m not going anywhere”

#aboardthehavocmarauder #the bad batch #bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #wrecker bad batch #hunter bad batch #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader

[intrepidacious]

time after time [5]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 10.9k

chapter warnings: nothing except the usual ones; another panic attack near the end; the riveting resolution of the coffee side quest? please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: after my week of technical difficulties (got shadowbanned, had a breakdown, bon appétit), this chapter finally made it to tumblr as well. thank you so much to everyone who reached out, it's meant more than you know!! <3 this one starts out fairly harmless and then i threw some punches again and for that i apologise

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

five: carousel

The first mission they took you on was nothing short of a disaster.

It should have been simple, was simple, a quick extraction to get a microchip from this decimated group of criminals operating out of an abandoned toy store that Nat had discovered through one of her contacts. You were only supposed to tag along to get a feeling for being out in the field, an additional pair of eyes just in case things went south.

Did they ever.

Not only was the chip accidentally destroyed, your ensuing panic got you stuck for a good twenty minutes until the world started spinning again. Steve fell down a full flight of stairs when you reappeared out of thin air next to him the moment it did.

Needless to say, you went into hiding as soon as you got back to the Compound.

She gave you about an hour before the hatch in the floor boards opened, even though for you, it was much longer. She didn’t know that, though. You sat very still, your breath finally silent again. Maybe she didn’t know you were in here.

"I know you’re up here, Y/N."

You pulled the cape off your head with a sigh. Natasha grimaced.

"Don’t do that, I’m not talking to a floating head," she said with a shudder. "You know how weird that is?"

You huffed and let her pull the fabric into her lap, watching your own limbs reappear, your arms hugged around your knees. She sat down next to you, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. You watched a spider scatter away from you.

"How did you even find me?" you asked quietly after she made no further attempts to speak to you.

"My sister had a similar hiding spot when we were little." You could hear the smile in her voice as she said it. "And you kicked up quite a bit of dust."

She didn’t elaborate on either of those things and you didn’t ask, even though you wanted to. Anything that could get your mind off what happened.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah," you said dryly. "That’s why I’m sitting in the supply closet."

"That’s exactly what I told Steve." Your face fell again, but hers didn’t. "He’s alright. Or he will be, once he forgives me for laughing at him for five minutes."

That didn’t make you feel any better. "I fucked up today," you said softly, your voice still rough.

"You didn’t do anything wrong."

"I did, though. I literally froze as soon as things went wrong, and the chip—"

"Is expendable," Natasha interrupted calmly.

You shook your head. "I only mess everything up for you guys. I’m not a real agent, and my powers just make things worse, and I should just—"

"Do you realize that this thing you were given can be a gift?" You cringed and started turning away, but Natasha reached out for you, a gentle hand on your arm. "I mean it. You think every time you’re unable to use your powers is your personal failure, but you don’t see how every time you are able to use them is precious."

There was a delicate hue to her green eyes, a weariness that was visible even in the dim light of the closet. For the first time, you had the feeling she let you see something she usually wouldn’t.

"Our lives … they’re hard," she went on. "Unpredictable. We live on borrowed time. And you get to have more of it. That’s …" You waited for the words you’d heard before. Invaluable. Instrumental. Priceless. "Beautiful."

You swallowed hard. "Is that why you took me on? For the team?"

Nat looked at you for so long you were almost sure she wasn’t going to answer your question. Then, she said, "I took you on because you needed a reason to get up in the morning."

You stared at her, your nails digging into the palm of your hand until it hurt more than the ache in your chest. Natasha kept looking at you as she continued.

"I lost a lot of people over the years, you know. But never like this. Never this many at once. Something like that …" She trailed off, her eyes wet. "The entire planet was grieving and struggling and blaming us, because at that point hardly anyone understood any of it apart from the fact that the Avengers were involved. And then one day, out of nowhere, a letter materialized on our doorstep, and the security cameras didn’t show a thing." Her grip on your arm tightened, as if she needed to steady herself. "Do you remember what you wrote?"

I’m sorry for your loss.

You’d struggled to put it down for days, because how else could you apologize for something you might have been able to prevent had you only been there instead of hiding? In the end, you’d only added your name and the address of that diner in Brooklyn where you picked up a few shifts after their waitress had been blipped.

You’d gotten a call less than twenty-four hours later.

"You were the first person to say that," Nat continued, because she could see the memories flit across your face as easily as others watched a movie. "And yet, when you got here, you looked as guilty as if you’d personally murdered every single one of the Vanished."

"Well, if I’d been with you—"

"Stop it." For the first time, her voice was sharp. Your mouth fell closed. "We’re all trying to do better, right?"

You could only nod.

"That’s all anybody here is ever going to ask of you. And sometimes 'better' is just getting one hell of a kick in during a mission. Don’t think I didn’t see that."

You smiled ever so slightly. "I have a pretty good teacher."

"Yeah, you do." She shoved your shoulder lightly. "You can’t do more than show up and do your best, honey."

"My best looks like a dead possum next to yours."

"Then stop looking at me." Natasha got up to her feet slowly, patting you on the knee when she did. "Unless it’s for a post mission wind down because I have a movie queued up and I know where Steve hid the cookies."

"Can I have my cape back?"

"Nope." She folded it up with the green side out, letting it hang loosely over her arm. "You’re supposed to use it to hide from your enemies, not your friends."

You didn’t attempt to argue further, warmth rising to your cheeks.

"Nat?" She turned again, halfway down the hatch, caught by the emotion in your voice. "Thank you."

Her smile told you that, as always, she understood.

*****

There simply isn’t a world in which you can do this even one more time. It’s too much.

"You need to sort out your priorities," Sam says, zero sympathy in his voice. Bucky has the audacity to look amused.

"I’m serious," you say, looking between the two of them. "My day is bad enough already. I don’t care where we order, but it’s not going to be Italian unless you want me to puke on your cat."

Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve eaten your way through the entirety of your pizza place’s menu. If you have to smell the rank cheese Sam likes to order one more time, you can’t be held responsible for your actions.

"How about sushi?" Bucky says, and you almost start protesting out of habit before you realize that for once, he’s not arguing your side. You turn to Sam with an expectant grin.

"Fine," he grunts, shaking Alpine off his trouser leg as gently as he can while his nose twitches. "I guess Russian Doll has the right to choose his last meal."

Bucky frowns at him, but you gasp in delight. "Are you finally joining us in dark humor land, Sammy?"

He flips you off wordlessly as he leaves the room and you chuckle to yourself, pulling up the sushi menu on your phone. Alpine starts nibbling on the bandage around your foot that’s stretched out on the couch and you wiggle your toes a bit. It seems to entertain her.

"What," you ask when the staring becomes unbearable.

"Nothing."

When you lift your gaze to meet Bucky’s, his jaw is clenched again, his eyes fixed on you with a distant expression in them. You tilt your head, and he lowers his.

"So what’s the plan?"

You send your part of the order to FRIDAY and put your phone to the side. "I have to get back to Strange to figure out how to stop this loop from happening again."

You’ve almost felt sorry to see your series of library heists break, even though you have no reason to feel his way. This is progress. Strange’s offer to help has been genuine enough so far, even though you hate paying him in answers.

Now that he’s not deliberately keeping you out anymore, getting to the astral plane has been a lot easier, at least, even though emptying your mind enough to cross over without a prior emotional breakdown has still proven somewhat difficult. Weirdly, it’s easiest on the couch.

Bucky nods shortly. "And what do I do?"

"Whatever you want."

He scoffs. "Right."

It makes your insides twist. "Bucky, as much as I hope that today is the last time we’re doing this, I can’t guarantee it. So you should just, I don’t know, enjoy yourself." You cringe even as you say it.

"I wanna come see Strange."

You blink, watching him clench and unclench his fists slowly, deliberating. The golden parts of his arm gleam in the sunlight. "Why?"

His voice, when he speaks, sounds haunted. "I can’t just sit around and do nothing."

Something in his voice sticks with you as you lie down on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. You’re not even sure if what he’s asking is possible.

"No, it’s not," Strange says bluntly. "Not as long as you’re in the loop."

"Why not?"

"Stop asking questions and focus."

With a roll of your eyes, you raise up your arms again. So far, you’ve spent most of your so-called lessons trying to make sense of the cryptic texts Strange makes you read and then summarize like you’re in fifth grade. If you’re not doing that, you’re talking him through the events of your July 4th, or explaining your powers to the best of your abilities, going through the motions and habits you’ve taught yourself over the years. It all feels like you’re revealing something very personal for someone else to judge.

You don’t care much for any of it.

"Again."

"Is this supposed to teach me something new?" you ask, turning your thumb and first two fingers upwards again while your other hand balls into a fist by your side.Threads of sunlight glittering like spun gold. You take a breath and shake your head.

"Do you feel anything?"

Annoyance. You bite your tongue and reach out, carefully, like you would to a scared animal, searching for that old familiar feeling.

It takes a while.

Dim, at first, but clearly there, vibrating deep in your veins, hesitantly stumbling towards your hands like it was suprised, too, to be called upon again. Softly glowing embers slowly filling the void you’ve grown so hopelessly accustomed to.

You open your eyes to find the tiniest green spark dancing across your fingertips and almost laugh in relief.

"Interesting," Strange says.

You flick your fingers softly, once, twice, letting the spec of power grow until it’s the size of a pinhead, cradling it softly with your other hand as if to protect it from a gust of wind. Slowly, bit by bit, it settles back into your skin, and you feel it tingling all the way up to your ears.

Strange contemplates you for a long moment. "When did you get that cut?" he finally asks.

At this point, you should be used to his unfazedness. "Yesterday," you say, the 'obviously' clinging to every syllable. Riff was putting up a better fight than usual; or maybe you’re getting sloppy again.

Strange moves his right hand in that circular motion you’ve seen him do before, and the air in front of you cracks. It’s weird to see your own slightly translucent reflection suspended in the middle of your room. The gash on your cheek has barely had the chance to scab. You subconsciously reach for your necklace again.

"Look at the wound, and hold your hands like this."

You try and mimic Strange’s gesture. "I feel ridiculous." Like a mime. Or a really bad stage magician.

"Good," he says. "Now focus your powers, and follow my lead."

You watch Strange move his shaky hands out of the corner of your eye while trying to concentrate on that little spec of power you’ve felt earlier. Slowly, itchingly, the wound starts knitting itself together, as if it’s been healing for days. The skin smoothes over as if nothing had ever happened.

A rush of excitement goes through you at the sight, and there’s a stutter. With a flash of pain, the cut tears up again and you flinch, your hands falling.

"Fuck."

"I told you to focus."

"Well, if only saying it made it happen," you snap, then try again. This time, you let go of your power more carefully, almost coaxing it down. The gash doesn’t heal completely, but at least it looks better than what you started with. Strange watches you closely, brow furrowed deeply in thought.

"Let’s try something different," he says, and with another flick of his wrist, the mirror vanishes again. "Sit down."

You bristle at the command, but obey. A sidelong glance confirms that your sleeping body’s cut on the cheek has somewhat improved as well. There seems to be something connecting the two of you after all.

"When is this here, anyway?" you ask.

Once again, he doesn’t give you an answer. With another quick movement he grabs something through a small portal and throws it at you without any regard to your reflexes. You grab it off the bed incredulously.

"That’s … a meditation CD."

"Congratulations," Strange says. "You can read."

"You’re not serious."

"Deadly." He unfastens his cloak, which flies over to drape itself over the reading chair like a blanket, and then joins you on the floor, crossing his legs as well. It’s bizarrely casual. "If you don’t learn to focus," he continues, "there’s no moving forward from this point."

You huff, holding the CD out for him to take back. He doesn’t. "I’ve tried meditation," you say impatiently. "It doesn’t work for me. My mind—it doesn’t work for me."

"Your mind what?"

"It’s too loud."

You put the CD on the ground with a little too much force, moving to twist your rings around again, but they’re still absent. Your nails dig into your skin, instead.

"Did you know I don’t really forget stuff? Did I tell you that?" You laugh humorlessly, because what else can you do. "Fun side effect of the traveling back and forth through time. I always know where I’ve been and what I’ve done, and what everyone else has done while I was there. All that information is in my head, all the time, and I can’t get rid of it."

"All the more reason to have it quiet down every once in a while," Strange says calmly.

You want to strangle him.

"Believe me, I’d love nothing more, but I can’t. It’s not like I’m a computer and you can do the whole 'Hello, this is IT, have you tried turning it off and on again?' It doesn’t work like that."

"You do know a lot about how things don’t work."

"Welcome to my world," you mutter, flexing your fingers and crossing your arms before you draw blood.

Strange sighs. "Your mind isn’t a hard drive. No matter what your powers entail, your brain is still human. And it needs to rest every once in a while."

For some reason, in the middle of this whole crazy situation, that thought settles. Maybe it’s because it’s possibly the first genuinely kind sentiment he’s shown you so far. Maybe you’re just tired of pushing.

"How?" It’s more a croak than a question.

"Just stay like that and breathe." You look at him incredulously and he raises an eyebrow. "What? No one said you have to think nothing. It’s fine if you just sit there with your thoughts."

There’s a short pause. "That sounds terrifying," you admit quietly.

Strange considers you for a long moment, as if he’s contemplating what to say, until he finally admits, "I know."

***

You blink awake slowly this time, as if gradually awakening from a deep sleep. The TV is on again, quietly chattering in the background, and a weight on your legs tells you that Alpine has found a new spot again.

A glance at your phone shows that surprisingly little time has passed. When you sit up, the white cat on top of you complaining loudly, you can see Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, laptop closed, talking to Sarah on the phone.

The fact that you’re not alone quite yet is weirdly comforting.

In a moment of sleepy contentment, you reach out to scratch Alpine under the chin like you’ve seen Bucky do countless times. Curiously, she lets you without immediately extending her claws. At least for a moment.

"You’re awake."

Immediately, Alpine loses interest in you and jumps onto the backrest of the couch to nestle her head into Bucky’s palm. You roll your eyes.

"Keen observation, sarge."

He slowly peels his gloves off, not quite looking at you. "What did he say?"

Right. There was that.

"Nothing, to be honest," you say, folding up the throw blanket Sam must have put over you while you were sleeping. "Apart from the fact that he really can’t actually do as much as one would think."

"Can’t, or doesn’t want to?"

You shrug. "Same difference."

Despite everything, somehow you feel inclined to believe that there really isn’t a way to get Bucky to the astral plane, though. After all, things haven’t been normal ever since this loop began; and since you’re the only one who can lift it, maybe that also means you’re the only one who can do things like that.

You can only hope that at some point, something—anything—you do is going to stick.

Bucky studies your face, but doesn’t tell you whatever is still clearly gnawing at him. You don’t know why for a moment, you thought he would.

It reminds you of something you haven’t asked in a while.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

His mouth opens, but he doesn’t speak immediately. "Like what?"

"It’s just …" You struggle with the words, as if your mind is still half-asleep. "In some of the loops, it was kind of …" You trail off when you notice he’s holding something in his other hand. "Did you go get coffee again?"

Bucky clears his throat. "Yeah. I thought since you didn’t get one earlier, ya know …"

You’ve stopped getting caffeinated drinks for yourself in the mornings to make it easier to get to that voidlike state you need to be in to enter the astral plane. It’s been making you rather irritable; though, truth be told, that might also be due to Strange’s charming personality.

"That’s nice," you say, reaching for the paper cup with your name on it, taking a sniff before tasting it carefully. It’s perfect. "I should change my habits," you say lightly, "if Lucy knows my order even if I don’t pick it up myself."

"Who’s Lucy?" Bucky says, sitting down on the couch next to you.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes. "The pretty one on register? Stars and stripes on her cheeks?" He hums noncommittantly and you decide it’s not worth the effort. "What did you get?" you ask with a nod to the second cup.

"Just … coffee."

You squint to read the sticker, but he puts his fingers over it in a motion so smooth it almost hides its defensiveness. There’s the slightest hint of a grin on his face as you scowl, trying to catch his sleeve to get him to twist the writing back in your direction. Your thumb grazes cool metal and you still. Bucky does, too.

"Did she actually give you her number?"

Your laugh comes out through your nose, somehow, as if it’s not much more than a breath. The expression on Bucky’s face doesn’t quite fit his widening grin, or the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, but you couldn’t say why.

"So?" he says. Alpine stares at you accusingly, settling in his lap once more.

"Nothing!" It comes out quickly. "I’m not surprised. I mean, she thinks you’re hot."

His eyebrow quirks. "Does she, now?"

You take a gulp of coffee so large it makes your eyes water. "Her shift’s probably over by now. You should call her."

"Why," Bucky says wryly.

"To take her out." Should you be weirded out by the fact that this is happening as soon as Bucky entered the store without you? You tug at the ring on your pinkie.

"Why do you want me to take her out if I’m gonna die later?" Bucky asks.

"Well, it might take your edge off for one."

"And why does my edge concern you?"

"Have you met yourself?" You shrug, your ears drumming. "Besides, it might be fun."

He doesn’t look at you as he takes a sip from his own coffee, as if still determined not to let you see his reaction. "You have a strange definition of fun."

Alpine yawns as if to agree. You stand up abruptly, suddenly nauseated from drinking too fast.

"I’m just gonna …"

Again, you don’t finish your sentence, and Bucky doesn’t stop you from grabbing your takeout containers and taking them with you to your room, where you stare at the toilet for a good minute, waiting for the queasiness to pass. Your meet your own gaze in the mirror.

The cut on your face looks better than it did a few hours ago.

You walk back into your bedroom and take a critical look at your bookcase.The Wind in the Willows is back in its place where it belongs. What isn’t there is the CD Strange finally managed to force upon you.

The rules of this multiverse crap are going to give you another migraine on top of your current one.

You sit down on the floor next to your window to eat, but your cheek keeps itching until you notice yourself tapping your chopsticks against the plastic container so hard soy sauce is splashing everywhere. With a displeased twitch of your mouth, you reach for your phone.

It rings for a very long time and you realize it’s already past midnight in Seoul when finally, there’s a voice on the other end.

"This better be good, agent Y/L/N."

Her voice is quiet, tired, and you press the phone to your ear even harder. "Can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

Doctor Helen Cho sighs deeply on the other end of the line, and you can almost picture her leaning back in her ergonomic office chair. "Alright."

You toy with the edges of the building scab on your cheek. "Is it possible for someone to go through physical changes and … not go through them at the same time?"

There’s a pause on the other end, followed by a sigh. "Are you asking me if Schrödinger’s cat is real or not?"

A living being that simultaneously is and isn’t dead? That’s a paradox you have an answer for.

The problem, as always, is you.

"Sort of. I don’t know." You bite your lip.

"You realize quantum mechanics is not exactly my specialty, right?" Even while she says that, you can hear the clicking of her keyboard. "You are talking about a body, I presume. A human one?"

"Mhm."

"And the changes?"

You think of the cut and the writing and Bucky’s blood on your sheets. And your changed clothes. "They’re only to the body itself. Everything around stays the same. Pretty much like Schrödinger’s cat, I guess. Nothing about the box changes." Ever.

There’s another pause before Helen speaks again.

"Look, as far as I know—and with all these new and upcoming aliens and superheroes and so on that have been appearing over the past couple of years that’s less and less, mind you—but as far as I know, humans can only be in one state at one particular time. There’s ways to accelerate healing processes or even meddle with the body in other ways, but it’s still an either–or scenario."

"So, it’s impossible?" you ask, biting your cheek.

"It’s improbable, based on what I understand." Time has definitely started to bleed into itself, then. Great. "But like I said, that’s not really my area of expertise," she continues. "Speaking of, though, I got an e-mail from your new captain earlier."

"You did?" you ask, surprised. Sam hasn’t said anything to you, not today or any other iteration of it.

"You can tell him I’m hearing the same things he has," Helen says. "My lab wasn’t approached, but I have a colleague at a partner institution who left for Madripoor a couple of weeks ago."

You’ve barely thought about ULTIMATUM and their experiments since you laid everything out for Sam and Bucky earlier this morning. Another wave of guilt flashes through you.

"I’ll tell him," you say tonelessly. "Thanks, Helen."

"In this hypothetical of yours," Helen says before you can hang up. "Who’s the observing party?"

You watch the green symbols circle around your wrist, once, twice, three times. "I’m not sure yet."

You stare at them for a while longer after the call disconnects.

"There’s nothing to observe when the flow of time is reduced to a single day," Strange says when you relay the question to him the next day, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"So there would be, usually?" you ask, eyes narrowing as you try to channel the flow of your powers into the palm of your hand, like he’s told you.

"It’s not a perfect comparison," he answers. "The cat is only dead or not because time passes. Time is only our way of perceiving space dimensionally."

"Time and relative dimension in space," you hum with a light smile. Your palm starts tingling. "But if it’s not that, either, then … I still feel like there has to be something I’m missing here."

Every single review of the mission fills in another piece of the puzzle, the map of the lab you draw on the whiteboard growing more and more detailed each day, but still, it’s never enough. You miss the way Steve would draw out detailed building plans and escape routes before any mission, such ease to the stroke of his pen; your own talent for drawing is borderline abysmal by comparison.

The green shimmer around your hand dissipates again. Strange groans, fingers massaging his temple like he, too, is getting a headache from this stupid realm. His cloak wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"What you’re missing," he says through gritted teeth, "is the point of this exercise."

"Enlighten me," you snap back.

You watch him take a deep breath before he answers. "Do you, or do you not realize that this isn’t all about you?"

You huff. "If you say something like this is the universe imparting a message upon me, I got that point. The message is that I suck at what I’m doing."

"If that’s the message, then how come you’re not the one who’s really getting knocked around every single day?"

The anger and remorse that wash over you make your power flare up like a bolt of electricity, your fingertips and the dark of your eyes flashing an eery shade of green. You can feel the little hairs in the back of your neck stand up. Strange only looks at you, his expression unexpectedly somber.

"At least he doesn’t remember," you say tonelessly.

Strange smiles, but there’s no joy in it. "Indeed," he says.

The rush ebbs off, bit by bit, and you blink to get rid of the last of the strange double vision you sometimes get when time stutters again.

"You keep telling a man he will die today because you think that’s best for him," Strange goes on. "Better than him getting to choose his own path. Have you ever paid attention to how he spends his last precious hours once he knows?"

Of course you have. Sitting around in the Tower, going over mission plans again and again. Getting coffee. Lurking in doorways, leaning against walls, thinking, talking, looking.

It’s all time spent with you, and Sam, and Alpine.

It’s weird that you shouldn’t have realized this fact when in the beginning, you kept wondering about the time he came back to the Tower. Because before you’ve started telling him, Bucky always left.

Maybe that’s what you’re missing.

"Careful," Strange says, noticing your change in expression.

"You know me, doc," you answer, letting the power crackle again ever so slightly. It’s a thrill, getting to feel it again. "Careful’s basically my middle name."

***

"Doesn’t matter," Bucky says when you ask him what he’d be up to if you hadn’t told him about the loop.

"Oh no, leave me out of this. That’s his thing," Sam says when you ask him about the whole thing, and he so clearly knows what it is and yet refuses to tell you.

"None of your business," Bucky says when you press the matter, his jaw clenched tightly, and you hate to do this, but you don’t exactly have limitless options here. Besides, it’s the first new idea you’ve had in a while, which means there’s an almost moral obligation for you to go through with it. And still.

This feels wrong, you think when Sam comes to knock at your door and you throw on your gym clothes, pulling the sweatband over your wrist tightly.

This feels wrong, you think when you climb into the ring as if nothing had ever happened, as if this was just a normal day. Your side is still a little sore, but you’re able to play it off as a scratch with ease. How would he know to call you out on it?

This feels wrong, you think when you close your eyes as you lie on the mat and wait. You promised.

"You look like shit."

Your head turns like muscle memory. "Hey."

"Hi." Bucky’s eyebrow raises at your silence, but you’re not sure if the words aren’t just going to come bursting out of you. You have a tell. "You alright?"

Your grin tastes just a little bitter. "Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Right." He doesn’t quite believe you, of course, but it’s fine. You can do this.

You turn your gaze back to the ceiling and try to recall the very first July 4th, the version of you that you were. She resists you slipping her back on, but you take another deep breath, just like you’ve been practicing. A chuckle slips free.

"Fuck you, Barnes."

Your heart is still beating fast in your chest, but he must chalk it off to the training, because you can hear him huff. "There she is."

You close your eyes with a petulant sigh, just in case he can see your conscience written all over them. Again, you remind yourself that you tried asking him, that you tried everything else, that this is the only option you can think of right now.

"You’re horrible." It’s more like talking to yourself out loud, but of course Bucky doesn’t know that. And the sad truth is, he’s used to your temper.

"Take the towel on the right, I already used the other one."

You give an affirmative hum, waiting until you hear the door close behind him. Then, you rush to the showers, wasting no time to get ready and dressed again.

Bucky walks out the door of the Tower at precisely 09:43, a fact you know thanks to the time stamps on the security footage from the lobby you had FRIDAY pull up early on in the loop. This leaves you with a pretty small window of time to clean up, add another line to the tally on your thigh, and get back to your room to grab your stuff without making what you’re doing to obvious to either him or Sam. You have FRIDAY call up the elevator with barely a minute to spare, going down to the second floor and quickly heading towards the stairs. Behind you, the elevator dings once.

You basically sprint downstairs, readjusting your backpack. You almost barrel into the fire door, peering through the window into the lobby after another glance at your watch. Only a few seconds later, you can see Bucky walk across the entrance hall, the usual resting scowl on his face as he looks around once and then ducks out the side door.

You tug the cap you found at the back of your closet deeper into your face and start after him.

This feels wrong, and it’s a terrible idea, you can’t help but think as you watch him head down Lex, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. His strides are long, but unhurried, and even though you know he’s the furthest thing from vulnerable, the fact that you’re seeing him unguarded like this doesn’t sit right with you. Nevertheless, you continue.

You expect him to head for the subway, but instead, he turns left after the Chrysler Building, going east. With a slightly confused frown, you briefly join a group of clearly lost tourists to cross the street and follow him back up Third Avenue. At least there’s just enough people around to make it easy enough for you to hide in a crowd, you suppose.

You’re going to follow him, and find out what he’s up to, and then you’re going to see if and how it all connects to this stupid loop.

Easy as that.

It’s about an hour and a half later when you seriously start cursing Bucky’s name. Inexplicably, he’s still just walking around the streets of Manhattan like a fucking peasant. Your clothes are sticking to your body in ways you don’t care to describe, and you’re sick of having to pretend to be interested in shitty Independance Day memorabilia and battered paperbacks on sale while trying to avoid eye contact with the people trying to sell them to you.

You’re also pretty sure you’re walking around in circles.

Letting your head fall into your neck, you blink up into the bright sunlight from underneath the shade of your cap. As always, there is not a single cloud in sight, a perfect Friday in July. It’s making your eyes burn.

You glance back at Bucky, who has continued walking after taking a look at his phone, and sigh. All of this would be so much easier with your powers.

"What on earth are you up to," you mumble to yourself as you watch him take another left.

You count to ten before rounding the corner as well—and then you yelp when you almost slam into Bucky’s chest.

"What are you doing?" He doesn’t sound annoyed at all; more entertained. You take a step back, assessing, but his face doesn’t betray him whatsoever.

"Going on a walk," you try cautiously.

"Yeah, right." He tilts his head, features despicably neutral. "Why are you following me?"

"I’m not?" He stares at you, and you groan. "Fine. I just wanted to see where you’re going?"

"Why?" There’s an edge to his voice that you can’t quite make sense of, but your thoughts tumble right over it, scrambling for an excuse and coming up empty. The glint in his eye is distracting.

"Because …" Because you don’t know what else to do at this point. "I don’t know, I was just curious."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "That’s a lot of dedication when you could’ve just asked."

You look at him doubtfully. "So you’d have told me?" you say, already knowing the answer.

"No." He puts his hands back into his pockets and turns around, leaving you standing there staring at his back.

"Well, there you go then," you shout and start to follow along again. You take the stupid hat off with a sigh and stuff it into the backpack, wiping sweat off your forehead. "How long did you know I was there?"

Bucky shrugs. "About when I got outside."

"Seriously." He stares at you over his shoulder. "Seriously?!"

"You came down the stairs," he says, shaking his head. "And in a Yankees cap."

"So?"

"Don’t tell me you suddenly like baseball."

"I might like baseball," you mumble. "It’s a very fine … ball sport."

He snorts. "Sure ya do. I’ll remind you next time the game’s on."

"Circling back," you quickly change the subject, "why the fuck did you make me chase you halfway across Midtown if you knew I was there anyway?"

"It was funny." The shit-eating grin spreading on his face surprises you so much you stumble over your own feet. His arm extends to stop your fall if necessary, as if on instinct. "You know," he continues, "I thought you’d lost me on Times Square. Almost asked one of those guys in costume to help you out."

You slap his hand away. "You’re the worst, Barnes."

"And you’re a shit spy, time powers or not." The smile changes, but stays. Somehow, you’re glad.

Your fingers twitch inside your own pockets, your thumbs tracing along your rings. "So," you say, suppressing the nervous chuckle. "Where are we actually going?"

"Don’t know yet." Bucky turns his head to look out for cars before he continues walking. It takes you a second to match his pace again.

"What do you mean, you don’t know."

"Well, I had to cancel my plans because I got an amateur stalker on my heels."

"Wow." You squint at him and the blinding sunshine behind his head. "And you’re calling me stubborn."

"To your face? I would never."

Oh, you hate this.

"So we’re actually just walking around town for the hell of it." And you’ve done all of this for nothing.

"Yup."

The realization that you wasted yet another day by thinking you could be sneaky around Bucky almost takes you down a spiral, and you don’t even notice he’s still talking to you until he ducks his head to catch your eye. "Huh?"

"I said I’ll buy you a coffee. Think you might need it." He pauses. "That is, if you wanna."

"I could always go for coffee," you say, and it’s true. First, though, you should tell him. Rip the band-aid off and get it over with. "Listen, I—"

But then he looks at you, his eyes impossibly blue in the sunshine, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t have to deal with that damn preciousness in them, because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen, and so he just looks at you like he has a thousand times before, the normalcy of it like a breath of fresh air after his eyes have dragged you under again and again.

How come you’re not the one who’s really getting knocked around every single day?

Maybe it’d really be a kindness to spare him the news, just once. It’s still so early.

"What?" Bucky asks when the silence stretches.

You think of the ever unchanging Tower and the neverending pizza delivery and the fact that you hate this. You hate lying to him. You do it anyway.

Just once.

"I thought of something, but it doesn’t matter now," you say. "We have time."

***

"Are you gonna tell me what’s up with you?"

You pretend not to hear him, shuffling the straws around in their container until they look a bit more orderly. Even though you’re not working, even though this isn’t even your store, it’s hard to shake the need to feel useful. Particularly if you’re trying to ignore Bucky’s gaze burning into your neck.

You’re saved by your name being called out because your coffee is ready. For some reason, you half-expect him to swoop in front of you and take the drinks himself, but of course he doesn’t. Why would he?

With a shake of your head, you rid yourself of the ridiculous thought and hand Bucky his coffee without looking at him.

"You know," you say, stepping out of the crowded Starbucks into the sunshine. "I have a blanket somewhere in here." You point at your backpack. "We could try to fight for a spot in the park."

There’s a pause, and then Bucky sighs. "What else do you have in there, anyway?"

"Spy stuff."

You don’t expect him to find that funny, but he snorts slightly. Then, like a habit he can’t break, his gaze falls on your hands again.

"I’m just tired," you say wearily before he presses the matter.

"You should try the floor," Bucky says. "If you can’t sleep."

It helps, sometimes. "I’ll keep that in mind."

You take a sip of your coffee and scrunch your nose when you realize it isn’t what you ordered for yourself; it’s what you ordered for him. In your haste to change the topic earlier, you must have switched the cups.

"Sorry," you say, "this is actually—"

But you stop talking, because he’s already taking a tentative nip of yor drink, and then he licks his lips. And they curl slightly upwards.

He blinks a few times, as if he’s as surprised as you are, and tries again, less hesitantly this time. Then he looks at the writing on the cup. "Wait," he says, frowning, "I think you’ve got mine."

Your mouth closes, then opens again. "How do you know?" you finally say. "They both have my name on them."

"Yeah, but you always get the same thing," Bucky says, as if him knowing your order couldn’t possibly be news to you.

"It’s fine," you say when he tries to hand you your cup back. "Maybe I should try something different sometimes."

Bryant Park is already bustling with people, and it’s just about noon. The little green tables are all occupied by chess players and chatting families, the carousel horses manned with happily shrieking children.

Still, you find a place to spread out your blanket near the edge of the lawn, almost within talking distance of the Public Library’s security guard, who is currently on his first smoke break. You demonstratively sit down with your back to him. If ever a man took his job too seriously.

"Aren’t you hot in that?" you ask doubtfully when Bucky uncomfortably sits down opposite you, the collar of his leather jacket pushing up.

"'Course I am," he answers, not elaborating.

You let your eye roam through the park. "Terrible news," you say dryly. "Not a single person is looking at you, Sergeant Cool."

Bucky shakes his head, not looking at you.

"No one cares," you say, more sincerely this time. "Even if they did, they’re not gonna say anything. And they’ll have forgotten about you tomorrow."

He huffs again. "And you’re wonderin’ why I call you stubborn."

"I thought you didn’t do that to my face?"

He pulls his gloves off, throwing them on the blanket between you with his eyebrow raised. "Happy?"

In the bright sun, his left hand is gleaming, the inlets reflecting the light in a way that makes it dance across the cotton like swirls of pure gold. You smile and lean back, closing your eyes.

You don’t come to this park often, even though it’s not far from the Tower at all and it’s easier than returning to Central Park with all the memories it holds and that have turned more bitter than sweet after everything. It’s the same as with the library, you suppose. Sometimes you don’t even know you’re missing something until you find yourself in the middle of it.

It might have been a Saturday, you think, the last time you were here. What a concept; Saturday. You sit with the thought for a while, and then you let it drift away, just like you’ve been practicing.

It’s such an unexpected feeling, to get to experience this moment of quiet reprieve when lately, most of your time in this loop has been spent studying, or training, or fighting. You already know you’re getting another talking-to if you don’t return to the astral plane at all today; but it’s just the one day. Surely, you can be allowed one day.

Your brain craves it more than anything.

When you open your eyes again, Bucky is contemplating your backpack with a frown so oddly different than the one you’ve gotten used to in previous loops. He seems so … It takes you a while to come up with the right word, because somehow, it makes you think of Alpine, and that doesn’t make any sense at all. Comfortable. He seems comfortable.

His shoulders are relaxed, his jaw unclenched, and even though he’s still wearing the jacket, his eyes aren’t flitting around to assess everyone within sight. His head tilts slightly.

"Are you trying to see through it?" you say, and the dryness tastes wrong on your tongue.

Bucky nudges the backpack with his foot. "Just wonderin’ what you thought you were gonna be up to."

"I like to come prepared."

"Since when?"

Well, ever since resetting has kind of stopped being an option whatsoever. "This isn’t gonna turn into one of your 'constant vigilance' talks, is it, Moody?" you say lightly.

He looks at you again, and you’re not really sure if that’s better or worse. "You’re deflecting, doll."

"Well, what do I know!" you say. It’s worse, definitely worse, but you don’t know why. "You might have been off on a covert mission or visiting a secret girlfriend or buying a beehive to put on the roof or—"

He unzips the backpack. "So you brought a blanket, a baseball cap, binoculars and a banana?"

You try to bite your tongue, but it’s impossible. "I was kind of set on the bee scenario."

Bucky laughs.

Genuinely laughs. His nose scrunches up, his eyes creasing and his head thrown back a little, shaking with a quiet and almost childish glee as you blink at the unusual sight. It’s over almost as suddenly as it began, but … still. A warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks as you watch him, your own smile almost hesitant by comparison.

Joy looks good on him.

It leaves a twinkle in his eye even as the laughter subsides, like specs of sunlight.

"What?" he says, his mouth still twitching.

"You seem happy." And it’s astonishing.

Bucky shakes his head slightly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s blushing. "No need to sound so shocked about it."

"You sure?" you ask, your voice cracking only a little. "I feel like I need to call an ambulance."

"Shut up."

"Or Area 51. I think you might’ve been swapped with an alien doppelganger." You sit up properly. "Tell me something only the real Bucky would know. Oh, wait. He wouldn’t have told me, either."

"You are the most dramatic person I know, you know that?"

"You’re one to talk, Sergeant I Need Nobody’s Help, I Will Jump Out Of  A Plane Without A Parachute."

"So many rank drops today."

"Now who’s deflecting?"

"I take calculated risks."

Except he doesn’t even know his calculator is broken.

Bucky stares at you. "What’s that even supposed to mean?"

You didn’t mean to say it out loud. Not today. Your fingers twitch automatically to take it back, but of course, nothing happens. Nothing apart from his attention being brought back to your black rings.

"What did you do?"

The concern in his voice is quiet, but it’s there nevertheless, and it makes your heart ache, long desperately for it to go away, to be replaced by the joy that was there mere seconds ago. You want to make this day stop, make the world stop so you can continue living in that ease of just sitting here and laughing together without thinking about anything else.

And then you realize what’s really happening, and the world chokes, like something falling into place.

For a moment, you can’t breathe as you look at him, whole and confused and missing parts he can’t even remember leaving with you, and you feel as though your heart might stop because the only thought running through your head is Please, not now. Not now. Not now. Every single beat is an echoing no inside your mind.

You are so fucked up, you think, but you can’t find it in you to stop looking at his face, nearly flinching as you shove the feeling all the way down, down, down, until you can feel it like a brick in your stomach. It’s nauseating, like the vertigo you get at the very top of a roller coaster just before the car drops into freefall.

"Y/N?"

"I don’t know," you say tonelessly. He must have noticed your face change, he must have. So why doesn’t the frown deepen?

"Liar." Your heart is still pounding so loud he must hear it, even over the racket of children screaming in delight and cars blowing their horns in the distance.

Concern, you think again. Exact same thing that you see mirrored on Bucky’s face right now. You're concerned for your friend.

Roommate, really.

Colleague.

Guy you sometimes work with, professionally.

Exactly. That’s it. That has to be it.

You’re in deep enough shit already.

He’s still waiting for you to say something and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, the buzzing in your head getting louder, and the only thing you can think to say is, once again, "I’m sorry."

Before Bucky can answer, his phone rings, and there’s the flicker of annoyance you’ve been waiting for.

"Hold that thought," he says. "Sam?"

Your heart sinks as Bucky presses his phone to his ear, reality catching up with you again. You try to rearrange your features into a neutrally curious expression when he glances back at you, but you’re probably failing horribly.

"No, I’m good, I didn’t end up going.Yeah. Alright."

You clear your throat as he hangs up. "So. Sam’s about to give his big speech then?"

Bucky looks bemused. "I’d hope not. That was hours ago."

"What?"

Confused, you look at your watch. Then you look at Bucky’s watch. Then you look at your phone.

Even though you can’t have been sitting here for more than thirty minutes, every clock you look at tells you it’s past 4 p.m. Confused, you twist your rings around your fingers, one by one, but they’re as pitch black as ever, and yet somehow …

"Should we go?" you ask, your voice just a little pitchy.

Bucky gazes at you for a very long moment, and then gets up to his feet and holds out his hand to pull you up. He still hasn’t put his gloves back on.

You take it.

"You’re really off today," he remarks and you hum noncommittantly as you fold the blanket back up and unceremoniously stuff it into the backpack. He shoulders it himself before you can grab it. "You’re just gonna complain again," he says, even though the Tower isn’t that far.

You don’t say anything, though, just trudging behind him without a glance back.

Probably because of the time of day, 42nd street is packed. You watch Bucky pass through the crowd with his head downcast and his hands back in his pockets. If it’s been a struggle not to get separated from him earlier this morning, it’s near impossible now.

He looks over his shoulder when, for the third time, several people have pushed between the two of you, and you shrug helplessly as you try to catch up to him. Again, you can’t help but think this would be so much easier with your powers working the way they’re supposed to; just stopping everyone else for a second while you move past them.

"Sorry," you mumble when you reach him waiting for you at a crossing. All of a sudden, you feel how tired you’ve been for a while.

"Wanna just go home?" Bucky asks.

"That’d be nice," you say, cringing at the thought of having to change immediately once you get back. Sam is probably already impatient.

Bucky’s mouth twitches. "Don’t make this a thing."

And then he takes your hand again and links his fingers with yours as if he’s done it a thousand times before. The light changes to green, but you don’t move, and Bucky softly tugs to get your attention. His hand is solid and warm in yours, and it does nothing to ease the feelings of unease and contentment that mingle in your stomach with his touch.

Neither does the fact that as soon as the crowd disperses and you slowly, reluctantly let go of his hand, he steps out into the street with his head half-turned to you and—well.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and it’s like the air is getting knocked out of your lungs.

After that, the days start to blur.

***

"Why would it have anything to do with the mission?" Strange asks, and you can’t decide whether he sounds condescending or genuinely confused.

"Because it’s never happened before then, maybe?" you say, throwing up your arms. "I don’t know!"

"The loop is tied to you, not the other way around. If Sergeant Barnes has only ever died during the mission before today, the only other variable in that equation is you."

His cloak curls at the seams in a way that’s almost apologetic. What a stupid thing to say about a piece of magical fabric, you think.

"Great," you huff, sitting down on the ground and crossing your arms in order to not shake violently. "So first time’s skipping and now if I spend time with him, he’s just gonna die earlier?"

There’s a pause as Strange frowns. "Show me your wrist."

You press your lips together tightly and hold out the arm with the swirling green symbols. Strange examines it with a particularly grim expression.

"Just say it," you mutter when it becomes unbearable.

"Time is a precious thread in the fabric of the universe," he says, dropping your hand. His silver eyes are very serious. "You don’t get an endless supply of it."

"I literally do," you reply, flourishing your wrist demonstratively. "That’s the whole problem."

"No." Strange shakes his head. "Your reality is going to collapse if time can’t move on from where it’s stuck. Not today, not tomorrow, but it will happen."

You stare at him with wide eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means, no more distractions. Things are detereorating more quickly than I’d hoped." He sighs, and there’s something about his demeanor that lets real fear course through your bones for the first time in a while.

"Okay," you say, swallowing it down. "Let’s do some overtime, then."

"I’m afraid that’s not how it works. Look at her."

You glance at your sleeping body, stirring in her sleep.

"You asked when this is," Strange continues. "That’s the thing with this version of the astral plane. It’s unstable. It only exists between dreaming and waking, and so our time here is very limited. You are then, and now. Past and present and future all folded into each other and wrapped into one. The nature of time doesn’t like this."

"So, what?" You laugh humorlessly. "I go through an endless day, and then reality crumbles anyway?"

"Do you understand now why it’s so important that you get a grip on your powers?"

Because you’re the one who created the loop, and therefore the only person who can untangle it again.

"So no pressure then," you say tonelessly.

"All of the pressure, I’m afraid," Strange says grimly. "There’s really no time to waste anymore."

***

"When we live such fragile lives, it’s the best way we survive. I go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you."

Your head has started pounding to the beat of the song and Sam’s fist at your door, but you keep staring at the ceiling, unmoving. It all just starts over.

Even this godawful song.

"Tell me all that you’ve thrown away. Find out games you don’t wanna play."

You must admit, the universe has a certain sense of cruel humor. Not that that’s any news. It doesn’t fucking matter what you do any of these days, because the outcome stays the exact same, and there’s a moment each and every time where Bucky knows that, too. Only by then, it’s too late.

"Geez, I hate you."

You’re so tired.

"I know, Buck."

Fade to black. Back in with a blast and the sun in your face, FRIDAY blasting The—

"I’m coming in," Sam finally shouts from the other side of the door. "You better not be naked!"

You hear him enter, but you still don’t move. You’re busy replaying that look on Bucky’s face in your mind of the exact moment it goes wrong. It looks so pale, his mouth twitching downwards, a bit like with his coffee, but much more devastating.

Black out. Rewind. His eyes are on you, not even on the white jacket shooting him.

Black out. Rewind. The fingers on his metal hand grasp so tightly around your wrist you feel something move underneath your skin.

"What is going on with—Y/N!" You feel Sam rushing to your bedside in three long strides.

Right. You’re still covered in blood.

You can’t look away from his eyes until the last second. Black out. Rewind.

"FRIDAY, turn this shit off. Call an ambulance."

"Calling 911."

The sudden silence slams you back into the present with a start. "Cancel call," you say loudly, your voice only slightly shaking. "I’m fine, Sam."

"You don’t look fine!" He helps you sit up, looking you up and down, a sense of urgency still vibrating in his every movement, but of course, you’re not bleeding. "You look like you just shot a man and then rolled over."

"You’re not wrong," is all you get out before you start crying.

Black out. Rewind. God, you’re pathetic.

You shrink back from his arms, cradling your wrist to your chest. It’s starting to swell.

And yet, the green symbols swirl.

You’re not sure why you’re reacting like this now, after … you’re not sure. It’s not like this is your first time. Does that make you an even worse person? Probably.

Sam is talking to you, you recognize his voice, but you can’t focus on the words. You’re desperate to find something to focus your attention on, like you’ve been trying, training, grasping to do, but you’ve got nothing. Just numbness, a gaping nothingness, and the scars to prove you’re not just stuck in a nightmare but this is in fact your reality, and you are the only thing that remains while everything else resets in an endless cycle of hell, over and over and over again.

Nothing stays.

And you can’t help but feel like you’re running out of time, anyway.

This is ridiculous, you know that. You know you’re worrying Sam out of his mind, that you just need to focus, damnit, take a breath, stop crying, anything. Your incompetence to do any of these simple tasks is like another slap to the face.

Time passes, and doesn’t pass; it doesn’t matter at all whether you’re there for a minute or six hours, it’s all the same to you.

Through the fog of it all, Bucky’s voice is like your lighthouse.

And you despise yourself for it, even as you reach out for him.

"Hey," he says quietly, his hands rubbing circles into your back until he slowly, carefully pulls you out of your head back to earth. "It’s alright. Everything’s okay."

He says it over and over and over again until you nod slowly. It’s a pretty lie, after all.

"What happened to your wrist?"

You know what you have to do, but that concerned undertone makes it so hard. You’re still not used to it, but you want to be. Fuck, you want … No.

It doesn’t matter.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear. "One more time. And then … Then that’s it."

You have to do this. Have to close yourself off emotionally. Distance yourself from Bucky in order to stay rational about this situation and find your way out. Treat this like you’re not involved at all; like this is just another puzzle for you to solve, and nothing else.

It’s the only way.

You’re going to fix this mess you’ve created, if it’s the last thing you do.

*****

"If we die here tonight, I’m blaming you," you told Steve through chattering teeth, and he laughed at you. If you hadn’t still felt bad about his bruises—no matter that they’d already healed completely again—you might have kicked him in the shin.

You’d reached the point of wanting to kick Captain America on a concerningly regular basis.

This time, though, you felt completely within your rights, because you’d been training hard all week, and thanks to New York being just about the most disgustingly freezing place on the planet if they asked you, you really didn’t see the point of driving into the city to a random ice rink. Particularly not on an evening in early January when it was already dark outside.

"You’ll be warmed up in no time," Steve said and waved at Nat, who was already waiting for the two of you, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up so the red roots of her hair stayed hidden.

"Couldn’t we have done this at the lake?" you asked, looking around wearily. The crowd was substantial.

"Sure," Nat said and put an arm around you. "Do you have about fifty friends we can invite so we can properly train your powers around other people?"

You grimaced. "There are children everywhere."

"Oh, yeah. Some of them went home early, but most opted to stay when I told them Steve would drop by."

You groaned. Of course they were Natasha’s Blip orphans; they had the same mischievous shimmer in their tired eyes. "Thanks for that, Nat."

"You’re so welcome," she answered, patting your shoulder. You narrowed your eyes when her coat shifted to the side.

"Is that my hoodie?" you said.

She looked down as if she hadn’t noticed what she was wearing at all. "Yeah, I think so."

"I was looking for that everywhere earlier!"

Natasha merely shrugged. "It’s your own fault for leaving your stuff in the dryer for anyone to take."

"Don’t pay attention to it, she does it to all of us," Steve said, putting an arm around her.

"That is not true."

"It is. You’re like a clothes hoarding dragon."

"Did you just call me a dragon?"

You didn’t listen to the rest of their bickering, because your eyes had started to water, and not because of the cold. It’d been a long time since you’ve felt this warmth inside, this feeling of belonging, of, well … family. It made your powers pulsate through your veins soothingly.

Still, the worry came back when they gave you a helmet and knee pads to wear.

"I’m a travesty on skates, but it’s not this bad," you told Natasha again when you shakily followed her to the rink entrance.

"We’re here to train, not to have fun," she said, taking your hands. Of course, she moved like a dancer even on the ice. "Well, both," she amended when you looked unconvinced. "Oh, don’t look at me like that, it was Steve’s idea."

"Then why is he sitting over there doing nothing?"

"He’s got the day off." She pulled you to the side of the rink. "Here’s what we’re gonna do," she said, pointing to the far end. "I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to guide me straight through the middle to the other side."

You stared at her. "You’re insane."

Natasha ignored you. "One straight line, you tell me when to dodge someone. We’ll go slow."

"I don’t know how many times I can jump."

"It’s not exactly a life or death situation, Y/N. I can survive a few bruises and so can the kids."

"I’d rather not injure a child if you don’t mind," you say, trying not to sound hysterical.

"And I’m confident that you won’t. Do you trust me on this?"

You met Nat’s calm gaze and took a breath, even though the knot in your stomach tightened. "Fine."

"Such a vote of confidence," she snorted. "Just watch what they’re doing, and keep it in mind. Think of it like a dance recital. It’s all just a sequence of steps in a specific order."

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. Natasha closed her eyes. "Ready?" you asked.

She smiled. "I love this song."

You could barely hear the music over the thrum of adrenaline, but you supposed that was her way of saying yes. This’ll be the day that I die.

You pushed forward.

chapter six

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #time after time

[mayy-bby]

Mr. Eddie “Because Evan, you act like you’re expendable, but you’re WRONG,” Diaz. Just yank my heart right out of my chest WHY DON’T YA. To this very day that piece of dialogue is one of the most powerful and sincere things I’ve ever heard. The emotion? The slight hesitation when starting the thought because it was too much to fathom? The conviction in his tone when he could finally get the words out? The lack of eye contact while saying the words, not because he didn’t mean em, but because if he looked at Buck right in the eyes as he said them it would’ve been OVER. Over. INSANITY. BYE. bye.

#911 fox #buddie #911 on fox #eddie diaz

[dreams-and-drabbles]

〔 Just Some Platonic Headcanons 〕

Giyu

You swore you’d befriend him to prove the others wrong, as you doubted he was really that bad, and you disliked judging others without your own impression.

You had to approach him first, and gosh did it take some time for him to warm up to you. Fortunately, there were few as stubborn as you in the corps.

After a few attempts to speak to him outside of missions, he finally agreed to spend an afternoon with you. Just one, he’d said, if it was really that important to you.

You were thrilled, of course. Your hard work was finally paying off, you’d thought.

You dragged Giyu out to a small restaurant, and enjoyed a nice meal together. After that, to your surprise Giyu walked you back to your residence

You started making a note of waving at him whenever you crossed paths outside of missions, and sometimes he’d give a little nod back.

Eventually, he started waving to you too, and naturally, you were thrilled!!!

You approached him once more, asking him to exchange letters with your crows, to your surprise he agreed right away.

You’re pen pals now, and while Giyu wasn’t very vocal verbally, he wrote a lot in those letters.

When you do run into each other in person, it’s kind of awkward. You sometimes try to make conversation, as does Giyu, but after a few minutes it usually ends in an awkward silence. (( You’ve joked about this a few times in your letters. ))

Mitsuri (ft. Iguro )

She absolutely approached you first. She also dragged Iguro along with her, which is how you first met him, as well.

The three of you went out to eat, and Mitsuri offered to do your hair, which you found yourself agreeing to.

She tends to ramble, but usually it’s about interesting stuff, so you’re happy to just listen.

She gives the best hugs.

She liked to spoil you, and you’ve finally managed to make arrangements, where you at least get to cover the cost of your food.

She’s almost as stubborn as you are. Sometimes, if you turn down the offer of a gift from her, you’ll find it sitting in your bag. ( Iguro helps her sneak stuff in there, often. You caught him in the act once, and if you hadn’t seen him do it, you’d have believed him. He’s a very good liar, you’ve found.)

Sleepovers are a norm between you two. On nights you sleepover, Iguro sometimes pops by for dinner.

Iguro

Iguro met you through Mitsuri. At first, he would only spend time with you when she was present, but after a few weeks, he’d started joining you for training.

He’s incredibly sarcastic and sometimes you struggle to tell whether he’s serious or not. (( Usually, after a few minutes of you struggling with confusion, he’ll say whether he was serious or not.))

Sometimes you’ll be walking home, and he’ll join you, he’s really good at concealing his presence, so sometimes you think you’re alone until you hear Iguro say something. ((It scares you half to death, and he finds it hilarious.))

Iguro gives tough love. If you’re doing something reckless, he’ll say that it’s not a good idea. If you still do it and it goes awry, he’s the type to tease you about it afterwards. ((He’s also the first to step in, if it’s something serious, however.))

Iguro doesn’t mind talking things out, in the event you two have disagreed on something. He’ll also apologize, if he feels he’s done something wrong.

You’re pretty protective of him yourself, and often defend him from remarks the civilians occasionally made. (( He actually heard you doing this once. It was one of the few times you’d heard him laugh, and you cherish that moment.))

Shinobu

Shinobu and you had met before, due to her helping with your treatment after a few rough missions.

She’s absolutely the ‘Have you eaten yet ?’ friend. She also feeds you, if you say you haven’t. She’s very firm about things like that, because as a demon slayer you expend a lot of energy. She doesn’t want you to end up getting hurt, because of something as preventable as not eating.

Shinobu is the type of friend that you have in depth conversations with, usually about incredibly deep topics. She’s also the type of friend who can have a deep conversation about literally anything. (( You challenged her on this once, and Shinobu blew your mind by describing the emotions that could be expressed while making rice balls. How she could tell how much care was put into one by its shape and flavor. You don’t question her anymore, after this.))

Shinobu’s a good listener, and will occasionally chime in to show she’s paying attention.

She can be really mean at times, when she’s mad, but always apologizes afterwards. She’s also incredibly patient. You’ve only ever truly fought once, and that was after you got injured on a mission.

Shinobu can be a bit of a mother hen, at times, though if you say something about it, she’ll stop. (( She gets kind of flustered when you point this out, which you find funny.))

Rengoku

He’s super fun to be around. His positivity is infectious and he oftentimes cracks cheesy jokes.

He’s a huge foodie. He knows all the best restaurants and sometimes when he’s on a solo mission, he’ll bring back snacks for you to try.

Despite his cheerfulness, he’s incredibly perceptive of your mood. When you’re upset, he’ll do things like invite you out for your favorite meal, or randomly stop by with something he thinks will cheer you up. (( You have a small box filled with dried flowers, origami, shiny rocks, and sea shells, all gifted to you by Rengoku. ))

Rengoku is always happy to train with you, when asked. He also gives you tips on how to improve your technique. (( He’s very tactful with it, though. Usually, he phrases his tips like suggestions. Like; if you shift further to the right, it may help your reach—))

Rengoku’s a very honest person, so you take comfort in knowing he’d say something if he was upset.

You have never seen him mad, and part of you wonders if it’s possible for him to be upset.

Uzui (ft. Makio, Hinatsuru, and Suma)

Uzui is probably the loudest of your friends, both in appearance and in tone. ((Though, this comes in handy at times, especially when you don’t want people to pay attention to you.))

Uzui is highly perceptive, and offentimes he knows something is bothering before you even realize it.

Uzui is actually really good at doing makeup, though he keeps this secret mostly under wraps, he has done your makeup a few times. ((Makio, however, chose the color palette. She’d never say anything against Tengen, but she has seen what he thinks matches. ))

Uzui is actually pretty easy to talk to. You don’t have to worry about matching his energy, and he pauses after saying something, giving you the chance to speak.

When you go to visit and Uzui is out on a mission, sometimes you and Suma do each other’s hair.

Hinatsuru always cooks when you visit and you wonder sometimes whether it’s because she likes you, or she’s just the main cook. ((You found out later that she liked your company))

Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma have ALL the dirt on Uzui. Whenever Uzui teases you about something, one of them will bring up an embarrassing story about him.

The whole dynamic is very playful, and you love joining them for dinner. (Uzui is not allowed to cook anymore, after the flamboyant food incident…)

#demon slayer hashira #demons slayer #kny x you #platonic headcanons #kny #kny fluff #tomioka giyuu #rengoku my beloved #kny uzui #demon slayer mitsuri #obanai iguro #shinobu kochō #i may make a part two #who knows

[of-solitude-past-and-present]

[Twst request]

But first of all, which server you are in? (I prefer that the JP one to be written, unless you only follow the EN one)

If you only follow the EN one, may I request Jade with soulmate AU?

[SPOILER - for certain event in JP server]

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So, how about that Jade halloween card? (Basically, him being a sorta of mummy eel? Or eel mummy?)

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And in headcannons form! (I prefer gn reader, but it's up to you!)

(So sorry if this is too long, too specific, overwhelming, and other else... Delete if this is too much)

Thank you so much!! >.<

Jade Soulmate Headcanons (GN!Reader)

I’m en only :( but I do know what card you’re talking about! However, I don’t know anything at all about the event itself or how Jade acts within it, so I’ve opted for the soulmate hcs instead. That being said, you’ve given me an idea for a scenario featuring a modified eel form!Jade and mer!Reader. I’ll get around to it within the next century, hopefully.

Final note: this is the first request I’ve received! Thanks, anon. You’ve watered my crops and cleared my skin.

Warnings: manipulation, isolation, stalking (?), the briefest of cheating mentions, general yandere shenanigans.

It may take Jade a while to find his soulmate. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that he’s a very busy man, and he figures that you two will meet eventually anyway. It’s bound to happen, and he knows it, so he won’t expend much energy to try to find you on his own.

Good luck trying to get away once he does, though.

Jade thinks that you’re practically each other’s property, in a way. Your very souls are bound by destiny. You can’t reject him. Of course, he’s the one in charge, even if he often pretends you’re equal. He knows how much control he has over you, and he enjoys it.

For the most part, Jade acts like you’re both a normal couple, as long as you behave. And you will, even if he needs to manipulate you into it. To anyone else, you two seem perfect.

He enjoys watching you. He wants to know all of your little habits, anything he can learn. Sometimes it makes Jade wonder if Rook has rubbed off on him. Of course, he isn’t quite as thorough as Rook, but still.

You’re made to be together, so he sees no one as a threat to your love. No one to take you from him. You can’t break up with him, and in a world with soulmates, cheating is barely even thought of. Even then, it’s a loveless affair, and he’s sure you’ll never do such a thing anyway. There truly is no one that can take your love away from him.

Unfortunately for you, your attention is a different story.

As I’ve said before, he is a busy man. This doesn’t mean you get a lot of time away from him, though. He likes being around you, even if you aren’t always interacting with each other. This means you don’t have a lot of time for other people.

He doesn’t isolate you immediately. It’s a slower process. If he does it too quickly, everyone (including you) will see that something is very wrong with your relationship. Instead he takes up as much of your time as possible so that you don’t have many chances to hang out with anyone else. On these rare occasions, it is only when he can’t come up with a plausible excuse to keep you with him that he lets you go. He knows better than to push it too far because otherwise you’ll realize what he’s doing. 

Slowly but surely you see your friends less and less. They feel like you’re growing distant, and they do the same in turn. It’s a cycle that you simply don’t have enough time to rectify anymore.

And soon you’re all his.

#jade leech #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #also this changed halfway through into general yan!jade hcs but im not mad about it #gender neutral reader

[iguessitsjustme]

Recently, I watched a show that I absolutely hated. I despised this show and normally I will drop shows, but I kept watching this show for reasons I don’t fully understand. But I have been trying to figure out why I hated it so much. There are definitely shows I dislike, there are characters I hate, but rarely do I ever feel such an overwhelming hatred for a show. It’s just a show. It doesn’t affect my life in any way and normally as shows air, I enjoy them then I move on. I’m not above hatewatching, sometimes it’s fun. I like to complain and I like to criticize. But this show wasn’t even fun to hate. It wasn’t fun to criticize. I just simply hated it. And trust me, no one is more surprised than me that I didn’t drop it. There’s a reason I made very, very few posts about it. Because what I would post would just be hatred and not criticisms and I never want to do that. That being said, I finally figured out why I hate the show so much instead of it just being a casual show I didn’t like. Fair warning, this is about A Boss and A Babe and if you liked that show, this might not be the post for you. I won’t tag it, but I know some of my followers enjoyed that show and I just want to make sure that y’all know that I am about to be pretty harsh so feel free to continue to scroll.

I hate the way this show handled tragedy and trauma. It was abysmal. Cher’s entire backstory with Tian could be taken out of the show and nothing would have changed. Not one thing. The tragedy and the trauma felt like an afterthought. It felt like the show was exploiting potentially traumatic experiences rather than even trying to understand them. There was definitely a way that tragedy and that trauma could have been built into the show. But it wasn’t. It was thrown in when they needed something to further the plot. It felt like a slap in the face to have trauma used as a plot device that way. And don’t get me wrong, trauma can be a plot device, but that shouldn’t be all it is. The show should be saying something with it. It should feel like it actually affects the show. It should have some sort of effect on the characters that experienced it. Cher didn’t feel like a character that lives with trauma. He didn’t feel like a character that changed as a result of what happened to Tian. Tian felt expendable to the show and considering what we were told happened to her, that Is disgusting. 

Cher’s response to learning Tian was raped multiple times by her stepfather was to have one moment of sadness and then to just…kind of forget about it? And then Thoop and his mom got the weirdest and worst ending where the mom is just kind of there and Thoop I guess forgives her? Tian died and it was unimportant and irrelevant for anything that happened in the show. Cher’s actions were always explained away with other reasons. Trauma isn’t something that just comes and goes when it’s convenient. It’s constantly there. It’s living and breathing and there’s always a piece of you that’s attached to it. Cher was not attached to that tragedy. Cher was as detached as he could possibly be, and trust me when I say this, no matter how well adjusted you are, no matter how well you’re doing, no matter how far away you are from the tragedy, that trauma will find you. It will hit you like a sack of bricks in the smallest, most inconsequential moment. There is a healing process that takes time and it takes work and it takes acknowledgement of the hurt. Cher did none of those things. And I think the show did his character dirty by not giving him the opportunity to actually process what happened. Cher didn’t feel genuine because the show didn’t treat him genuinely. 

The show could have said that Cher is so talkative and friendly now as a result of the trauma. He talks so much because if something isn’t filling the silence, he gets left with his own thoughts. The show could have had Cher be so friendly even to his “grumpy” (don’t get me started) and strict boss because Cher knows what it’s like when the world is not kind and he wanted to make the world a little friendlier to someone who seemed like he needed it. The show could have made Tian matter. Cher could have had more of a struggle coming to terms with the fact that he was falling in love again. The most genuine Cher seemed to be was when he was talking to Thoop or about Thoop and saying that he was his brother. That even though Tian was gone, he wouldn’t leave Thoop and he would continue to be Thoop’s brother even when he was pushed away and lashed out at. Why didn’t we have more of that?

I just wish the show had really thought through Tian’s story and how it would impact the story as a whole rather than just throwing it in there and saying “Cher has trauma! Look how deep he is!” Telling me a character has trauma and it gives him depth is a hell of a lot different from showing the trauma and using it to drive a character’s motivations and their arc. Trauma should affect the characters and not just the plot and A Boss and A Babe did not do that. And that is why I hate the show. Trauma is not a commodity to be used. It’s real, it’s hard, and it should be treated with respect. 

#just some thoughts on this show and why it's been driving me crazy #there are some really good shows that deal with trauma and handle it exceptionally well #this is not one of those shows #and considering i had to leave work today so i could go home and have a breakdown just got me to thinking about it