#i'm sorry last time it was the same friend who needed medical help and they just didn't show at our meetup

[moinsbienquekaworu]

It's 2pm, my city's pride parade starts at 2pm in a part of town that's like 20 minutes away in public transportation, my best friend said we would go together but they made other plans for this afternoon so I'm going alone, and it's raining. Do I even bother.

[kaciebello]

Band-aids of death

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347

Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.

After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.

“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.

“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues,

“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.

“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.

“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.

“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.

“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.

“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.

“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”

“ Australia?”

“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.

“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

[olivianyx]

'OF COURSE' METHOD ♡

I think I found a new method based on those trending tiktok trend that goes like 'we're besties, of course we make fun of the same person for the 700th time and never get bored' or 'I'm the oldest child, of course I'm responsible for my siblings' mistakes' and blah blah blah. I made this as a method 😭 (don't judge me, it's just for fun)

This method mostly helps for rampaging or vaunting. You can use this as robotic affirming too.

THE METHOD ♡

Step 1: know clearly what you desire. Cus sometimes you prob be confused what you want, so know what you really desire.

Step 2: have a mental idea of it or a visual of it. If you can visualise, that's fine. If not, go on Pinterest to find it.

Step 3: Ask yourself, if you have what you already desire, what will you feel or do with it. If it's a material, how would you wear or keep it. If it's love or peace or something that's not materialistic, how would you feel everytime. Ask yourself and write it down or type it in your notes app.

Step 4: the actual method! suppose you wanna be an IT girl/boy, so you go affirming in front of the mirror or to yourself! If you have a friend who's manifesting just like you, try this trend in terms of manifestation with your bestie 😭 you need to affirm or rampage like ----->

'I'm an IT girl, of course I'm the most prettiest of them all'

'I'm an IT boy, of course I'm the most handsome of them all'

'I'm an IT girl/boy, of course I'm rich asf'

'I'm an IT girl/boy, of course I'm sexy'

you can use anything that implies the fulfillment of your desire aka which you already have. So you can affirm that you're rich, pretty, handsome, successful, happily married or you have your desired job or you were accepted into your desired university or anything you desire.

MY EXPERIENCE WITH THIS METHOD ♡

Flashback to 2019

I manifested meeting my old friend with this method. The last time we had met was back in 2019, and she moved to Germany in 2020. We still had contact through Instagram. But still we we're besties since we were like 7 😭 as I had no friends back in quarantine, I only had a few online friends and her (her name's Dina btw)

Time skip to now

So I saw this tiktok trend was everywhere, so I wondered why can't use this as a method. So I went affirming in front of the mirror (actually you don't have affirm in front of the mirror if not comfortable) 'we're besties, of course we're together since 13 years and we'll still be always' and 'we're besties, of course we can't wait to meet each other everyday'. Guess what? In the next days, she texted me that she's moving back to Sydney 😭😭😭 I was fucking sunghooned 😭😭

I was like gurl what? How? When? Why? Where? She told me that she wanted to medicals along with me since arts is not interesting 😭 she was accepted into our uni a month ago and did not tell me 😭 now she's gonna join my junior batch and study with me! I was sooo happy y'all 🥹🥹🥹

Believe in yourselves, there's already movement. Just like in my case there's always movement even before you notice. So don't give up! Keep persisting in your assumptions! Love y'all bye 🫶

(I'm sorry it was short, since uni's being a bitch 😭 comment if you have any doubts, I'll gladly answer them 🫶)

- olivia 🤍

[vodika-vibes]

Me again 😈 this is the last one (for now)

How about Howzer x reader with "sh, sh, I'm going to patch you up."?? I love Howzer so much and virtually no one writes for him </3

Playing Doctor

Summary: In an ideal world, being trapped in a cramped place with Howzer would be a dream come true. After all, you’ve been crushing on him for ages now. You just wish the situation was a little less sucky.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1200

Warnings: Reader is injured, pining, Howzer is jealous but pretends that he isn't

A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I couldn't get Howzer to agree with me. Until I put on a Disney playlist on Spotify and the words just started flowing. (Also, I have been in a not-great mental place since the 6th, but I think I'm better-ish now). I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my Taglist

You’ve known Howzer for years now. 

You first met him at the beginning of the Clone Wars, all of those years ago. And, looking back now, you can admit that your first impression of him wasn’t the greatest. 

He was arrogant. Cocky, even. And in his opinion, you were a meddling busybody who needed to spend a day or two sitting in a jail cell.

You weren’t, and aren’t, a soldier. You were the former base commander’s receptionist, and when he left for greener pastures, you were left behind with a handful of soldiers and support staff who weren’t important enough to anyone to manage to pull a reassignment.

In truth, you kept the base running through duct tape and a prayer. And then Howzer came along and took it from you. 

It wasn’t until he realized that none of the NatBorn soldiers, or support staff, would listen to him, that they all deferred to you, that Howzer realized that he stepped on a few toes. 

And he didn’t apologize until your Squad of Misfits pulled him and his men out of an ambush that should have killed them, but only left him badly injured and with a scar on his face.

The rest, as they say, is history.

By the time the Jedi Purge happened, you and Howzer were friends. Friends enough that, when he called you to ask for help, you dropped everything and hurried to his side. 

That had been a year ago, and while you won’t ever say that you regret it, you do wish that you had been more clever about your career prospects.

Or, at least, more clever.

Surely, if you had gone to medical school like your mother wanted you wouldn’t be in this situation.

Right?

You release a pained whimper as Howzer presses his hands, firmly, over the wound in your side. You try to pull away from his painful touch, but the way he has you positioned against the wall of the cave you’re taking shelter in means that you can’t move.

“Howzer—”

“I know it hurts, ad’ika.” His voice is low, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a grim look on his face before. Well, not directed towards you, at least, “but I need to stop the bleeding.”

Hesitantly, because he’s been funny about you touching him lately, you wrap your hands around his wrists, “‘m sorry. I messed up.”

“It’s not your fault. Who knew that the Stormtroopers had people who could use fucking javelins. Where are we, the Middle Ages?” He sounds stressed and angry.

“Many Indigenous people use weapons like that,” You reply, “Like the Ewoks and the Tusken Raiders of Tatooine.”

Howzer releases a huffed laugh, “Why do you know that?”

“I saw a documentary about it before,” You admit.

“Yeah? When was this?” He applies more pressure and you whimper as the sudden pain knocks the air out of your lungs, and you see a muscle work in his jaw.

“When I was a kid,” You manage to say, “There used to be a show. Tula the Tooka. Tula would teach kids about different races and show how we’re all the same.”

“Fighting bigotry one little kid at a time?”

“Something like that.” You wince, “She also covered some basic language skills, like how to say hello, or I’m lost, in whatever language.”

“Sounds educational,” Howzer shifts his hand and glances at your side, and then he takes your hand and presses it over the wound, “Apply pressure while I pull out my kit.”

“You could always just leave me here,” You offer.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, I’m not leaving you behind.” Howzer replies as he starts digging through the bag he’s been carrying, “You can’t actually think that I would do that.”

“I don’t.” You admit, “Make your life easier if you were less loyal, though.” You pause, “Idiot.” The word is affectionate, and the corner of Howzer’s lips curl up into a small smile.

“Wonder what having an easy life would be like,” He jokes, before he turns back to you, “Alright, move your hand.” You do as he asks, though you don’t realize why he’s saying that until the sharp scent of alcohol reaches your nose.

You yelp and jerk back when an alcohol-soaked cloth presses against your side. Though, you don’t get far.

“Shh, shh,” he effortlessly tugs you closer, so he can keep the cloth pressed against your side, “I’m going to patch you up.”

“You couldn’t have given me some warning?” You choke out.

“Sorry, ad’ika. But you’re kind of a baby when it comes to pain.”

You stare up at him through tear-filled eyes, “And you thought this would help? You’re a jerk. Rex would never—” You yelp again when his touch gets rough enough that it hurts.

The painful pressure vanishes almost immediately, “Sorry, I’m sorry! I forget that you’re so much more fragile than me.” Howzer blurts as he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe a tear from your cheek, “Please don’t cry.”

“I-it’s okay, you didn’t mean it.”

Howzer sighs, “It’s not okay, but thank you.” He pulls some bandages from his bag, “I bet Rex would never forget that.” There’s something odd in his voice, and you realize, with a start, that he’s jealous. 

“Howzer?”

“Hm?”

“Are you jealous of Rex?”

He fumbles with the wrapper of the bandage, and his dark eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, before dropping back to your side, “Course not.”

You stare at the top of his head for a moment, and then you sigh and reach up to run your fingers through his hair, “You know you’re my favorite, right?”

“Are you allowed to have favorites?” Howzer asks as he applies the bandage and tapes it to your skin.

“I think you’ll find that I don’t care about what’s allowed,” You counter, “You’re my favorite, and I’m glad that I ended up stranded here with you over anyone else.”

He finally meets your gaze, “You hate being stranded anywhere.” Howzer corrects with a wry smile.

“See, no one else knows me like you do.”

“Well, I have known you for years now,”

Your hand falls from his hair to rest against his cheek, just over his scar. There are so many things you want to tell him. So many thoughts you want to share. 

Things that he deserves to know.

But the words seem to stick in your throat.

After all, there’s no way he feels the same way for you as you do for him.

So, instead, you offer a tiny smile, “I’m guessing you have a plan.”

Howzer turns his head and presses a light kiss to the palm of your hand, “Always do.” He pulls away from you, “Are you okay waiting here for me?”

“Just don’t forget about me.”

“Never.” He stands and peels off his jacket, “Here, use this as a pillow and get some rest. I’ll be back when I’m done.”

You take his jacket and fold it so you can lay down, “Be careful,” Howzer tosses you a wink, and then he’s gone. 

And, now alone, you release a quiet sigh. “I love you, Howzer.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

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@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

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@cc--2224

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@sweater-sloot

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@silly-starfish

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@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

[googleitlol]

If Dove's store went into the Lmk universe/storyline, how whould dove react to Mk? And Wukong being put into another circlet??

I'm sorry for how off the rails this ask is going to get, I'm including a lot of other stuff besides your questions cuz I've already thought about this a lot.

@marcu-bug and I have brought it up to each other before, and in LMK… Dove is reincarnated. Will I explain why?

…Not yet :D

For this, Dove is sort of like a maternal figure to MK (He's got so many dads, why not add a mom friend?). I have a oneshot planned where I'll go more into her character, but I imagine in the lmk universe, she’d be a paramedic that usually stops by Pigsy’s for lunch. Dinner too if she’s had a long day. Which is most days.

She definitely gets a lot of those ‘worried-parent’ feelings around MK and Mei, with how often they go jumping at the chance to do dumb shit. She’s seen a lot of things, but dear lord do those to take the cake for number of calls she’s had to respond to. Actually, that’s probably how she first discovered the noodle shop, responding to a call Pigsy made when Mei took MK for a ride on her motorcycle and they crashed. I imagine like an old bartender, Pigsy would listen to her rants about her shift with Tang enjoying a bowl next to her. Being a paramedic is tough, having her gift is helpful but sometimes Dove is running into hostile situations on the job. Sometimes she sees something that shakes her, but Pigsy and Tang are there to listen at the end of the day. It also helped her to unwind by hearing Tang tell MK all about the Journey to the West and the Monkey King. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't a little intrigued by his stories, just a bit.

She joins the monkie gang when the pilot begins and helps out when she can, and funnily enough, Red Son gets pretty uncomfortable around her. Not that she gets to join her friends too often, and for a very specific reason. Sun Wukong. At first, Dove thinks he's a generally cold guy, he's always on his mountain, doesn't socialize much, and he's pretty standoff-ish around her. But after seeing how he is with MK, she quickly realizes that isn't the case.

Okay, he's just an ass, then. A confusing one, at that.

It seems like Monkey King will do whatever it takes to avoid her, but at the same time, he pushes himself into her life in the most frustrating ways imaginable. Nearly anytime she's invited to do anything fun with her friends or go on any sort of adventure, she gets a call from her building manager that something is leaking in her apartment, or a strange call from her boss asking if she can do another shift last-minute, only for them to be none the wiser about ever asking her to do that. Dove didn't realize who was behind these strange happenings, but when she figured it out, boy was she pissed.

It's not uncommon to see Dove and Wukong arguing, much to MK's dismay. She just doesn't get why he's decided to hate her, he doesn't even know her! One time, he asked her to help a monkey of Flower Fruit Mountain that needed medical help, but when she got there, he left her stranded on the mountain while he went on vacation! Dove couldn't see the mainland for days until MK and Tang visited the mountain for a separate reason about some giant dumpling. It doesn't get much better when the team has to go looking for the Samadhi rings. If anything, it gets worse. Monkey King is so aggravated to even have Dove with them, she'd half-expect that he wanted her left to be frozen in the city with Lady Bone Demon! He doesn't want her anywhere near the ritual where they form the fire. The unfriendly behaviour doesn't stop until, well, Amnesia Rules…

When Monkey King loses his memory and gives her this look of shock, the last thing she expects is for him to scoop her into his arms with the tightest hug she's ever experienced. A flip switched in his attitude towards her, and it's made all the more confusing after he explains that Pigsy is Zhu Bajie and Tang is Tang Sanzang

"Who do you think I am, then?"

"You're my one and only, Love-Dove!"

She's not sure what's worse, that god-awful nickname or the fact that he thinks he's in love with her! Although, as the day goes by… she can't say she's unopposed to seeing this much friendlier side of him. Even if she only got to see it for a little while.

It likely wouldn't be until Wukong is about to face LBD that he finally admits to her why he was so upset about her being there, how she was the reincarnation of his one and only love. A love he lost, in a way that he could only blame himself. He couldn't bear the thought of putting her near harm's way again, not when their mission revolved around a power that was responsible for her past life's death (I might go into it in another ask/post, this is getting long)

After learning all of what they'd gone through in her past life, Dove is… apprehensive, to say the least. Some of his actions from the past, they make sense to her now, but it doesn't make her forgive him completely. Still, she remembers how Sun Wukong was when he had lost his memory… she would like to see that side of him more.

It takes them time to get past their rocky start (these two can never just start off liking each other smh), but in time, Dove starts to see more of that side she'd seen during Amnesia Rules. And she starts to fall for him all over again. He tells her about her past life, their time together on the journey, all of it. He admits how he robbed her of immortality… and how she tricked him into wearing the circlet. Their ups and their downs, he tells her everything. By the time season 5 rolls around, they're happy together. He's even offered her an immortal peach from the tree he's grown on FFM, so that he can finally make up for the mistake he made all those years ago.

Then… Li Jing puts the circlet on Wukong, again.

The moment Dove finds out, she's furious. How could they hurt him like that again?! Wukong tries to put her mind at ease, but it takes a lot to calm her down. "It's fine, Dove… I was honestly pretty disappointed. He put it on and just left, at least you were creative about it back in the day." That night, in the back of Sandy's van, Dove is littering his head in kisses, she can hardly imagine how painful it must feel. You best believe the moment they see Li Jing chasing them, she's aiming whatever she can find straight for his head. If he thinks he can induce some magic migraine on her man like that, she'll find a way to pay back the favour, tenfold. Nobody touches her Sun Wukong but her.

[enigmatist17]

Continuation of this idea

---

Ratchet always knew when someone was in his medbay; it was like a sixth sense their human allies had told him about a while back. Be it the twins wanting to prank him, wayward officers trying to discreetly snag some emergency repair parts, or a particularly slippery Prime who knew where Ratchet kept his good rust sticks, no bot was safe. So when he returns to his domain after diffusing yet another argument between Grimlock and his kin, Ratchet isn't surprised to find the newly arrived human digging through some of his supplies, jumping when the medic lets out a sharp vent.

"May I help you?" The smaller being scrambled upright in surprise, squinting up at Ratchet before shaking his head.

"I'll never understand how tons of metal can move so silently." Cade looked almost awed as he looked Ratchet over before continuing his previous task, grumbling under his breath. "....Ratchet right?"

"That's right." The medic watched him pull out a few bundles of wiring with an approving look, setting it beside a mini-welder and an energon patch he'd already grabbed. "Do you know me?"

"Ah no...no I never did get to meet you." His voice catches, and Ratchet watches as the human's eyes take on a faint glow, his expression changing to one of sadness. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" The medic frowned as he leaned closer, pulling out a scanner.

"For failing you, old friend." The Cybertronian stared as Cade spoke in both his voice and Optimus' in unison, stance changing subtly to give the medic his full attention. "It warms our sparkheart to see you alive and well here."

"Optimus?" What in the name of Primus

"Yes and no." Cade shrugged, watching the blue light that enveloped him from Ratchet's scanner with mild curiosity, said bot's optics widened at the readings he received. "This is new."

"This...these readings are impossible." Cade moved to resume grabbing what he wanted from Ratchet's supplies, the glow fading from his eyes as Ratchet looked through the data.

"Don't ask me, I still don't understand...whatever this is, exactly." Cade shrugged, grinning at some tubing he found. "I was patching Optimus' chest up after fighting Quintessa when boom, it was like I was electrocuted? Next thing I know, I know everything about Cybertron and can understand Cybertronian, and Optimus can quote freaking Shakespeare and understands Earth lingo better than I do. Still weird, but really cool at the same time."

"What about you both speaking as one?" Ratchet grabbed a seat and pulled it over, grabbing a replacement strut from a higher shelf before taking a seat. "I saw that limp of his, you'll need it."

"Thanks man! I'm not the best doc for you bots, but I think I do pretty well." Cade shrugged, pushing the piece over to his stash. "Bonus for not having to dig through a scrapyard, parts for his model are kinda hard to find in a normal yard. As for the speaking thing, Optimus might be able to explain it better than I could."

"Do you not have a base?"

"Uh...not really? It's uh, the world governments are still trying to pull their head out of their collective asses in undoing the ban on bots, and we're still just moving around to stay safe."

"...what?" Ratchet can't help but remember the Decepticon plot that had nearly wiped out their entire Earthbound faction, and his spark twists in pity.

"It's a really long story that I'll leave to the big guy. I've only been around the last few years, but it...it got bad. A lot of you guys are either dead, still off-planet, or one of the few in hiding in Cuba for some reason." Cade shook his head with a sigh, stretching as he looked down at his haul. "So..."

"Come on." Ratchet let out a long, drawn-out vent as he carefully placed the medical supplies into one of his various subspaces before offering his servo. "While you might be a decent medic, I am vastly superior."

"Ego much?" Cade snorted as he hopped onto the offered limb, yawning as he was placed onto Ratchet's shoulder before the white and red mech headed out of the medbay.

"I wasn't given the title of Chief Medical Officer for having pretty optics." The medic grumbled, this time getting a full-on laugh from Cade as he traveled the halls of the Ark, heading toward the room that had been turned into a home away from home for their human companions and liaisons. The alternate Optimus was sitting in his alt mode, Ratchet's years of practice as a veteran medic shrugging off the suspicious EMF field that washed over him, only to fade just as quickly. "Optimus."

"Ratchet, it is good to see you." Optimus slowly transformed as Cade was set down on the ground, Ratchet pulling out the supplies and trying to gawk at the bot, who was far taller than he needed to be in his opinion. "I see Cade escaped your wrath unscathed."

"This time, don't think you'll be allowed to rummage through my medbay again unsupervised." The human rolled his eyes as Ratchet chuckled, scanning Optimus before the other could protest. "What in the Pit happened to you?"

"That...is a long story." The weariness in his voice kept Ratchet's snarky answer at bay, merely holding out a servo toward Cade.

"I'll need some of that tubing you grabbed and the green welder on your left." The inventor nodded and grabbed the required items, Ratchet tapping above some of the worst injuries on one of Optimus' legs. "Open up."

"As you wish." Battered plating pulled back to allow the medic access to his inner workings, the silence between the three heavier than any of them wanted it to be. It broke when Cade decided to stretch his legs, patting Optimus' armor with a murmur Ratchet couldn't quite catch before he wandered out of the room, leaving the two alone.

"Cade has done a good job with your repairs, reminds me of Raoul." Ratchet hummed as he replaced the fractured strut he'd eyed earlier.

"Who is Raoul?" The taller bot let out a relieved purr when the new piece was inserted, and the dull ache he'd been dealing with for days was finally gone.

"A human ally I've been training to provide medical aid in the field, he became interested after helping us a few times. He's quite the natural at it as well, and don't ever mention it to Tracks, he'll never shut up about it."

"Tracks...I don't know if he's still alive." Optimus shook his helm with a frown, searching his processor for anything he may have heard.

"He might be, you never know." Ratchet gently squeezed his shoulder, the Prime almost immediately leaning into his touch like his own did. "Optimus...what happened to you? You know you can confide in me, no matter where we both come from."

"It is a friendship I cherish deeply." The battle mask that Optimus had kept on when he transformed receded, and Ratchet felt his spark warm at the trust. "A large portion of humanity turned against our entire kind after we were betrayed by a close ally, which resulted in the destruction of a massive portion of Chicago. A majority of us went into hiding when Lockdown arrived to Earth, and he..." Optimus' vocalizer fizzled out, covering his face with one servo as he let out a slow vent. Optimus couldn't tell him how he'd seen Ratchet's execution, and how, later on, his body had been melted down for the disgusting notion of human greed. The anger was still there within his spark, a big reason that he kept moving around with Cade, unwilling to give humanity another chance at taking what little was left to him and his race.

"I know you did everything you could, Orion." Ratchet's spark felt overwhelmed with sorrow as he moved to embrace the Prime, his EMF field surrounding the other with as much comfort as the medic could pull from himself.

"I was in stasis, I should have been there, not hiding in some building like some sort of coward." The anger threatened to spill into his own field like a tidal wave, and Optimus cycled his optics off with a soft growl. "I am a Prime, I have taken worse injuries."

"I don't know how he is in your world, but Lockdown fights dirty and has taken experienced mechs down without batting an optic. You are not infallible; no matter what that Matrix feeds you, you fall like the rest of us. I know I would have said the same thing to you, so I'll say it to you now." Ratchet pulled back with a fond look, waiting for Optimus to look up at him. "I'm sorry, for what it's worth."

"I am too, you deserved to see the end of the War."

[inmyicyworld]

My everything

Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.

Words count: 6.8k

Warnings: I fucked up the whole timeline sorry, no civil war and no infinity war in my world, avengers live in their tower as a family, my baby Bucky has a lot of issues and regrets, lots of feelings, happy ending as always.

Author’s note: one of my works hit more than 1,000 notes and i’m so so so grateful to every single person who supported me.

I had this idea for a while, and I finally decided to write because I had barely seen any works with this plot. if y’all like it, might as well write the second part with smut🥰

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.

"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”

 "This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."

 “But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.

The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts. 

“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.

Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.

 "Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.

 “Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”

 “Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”

“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.

Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.

“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.

 “I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.

 “And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been?  80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.

 "Sam, don't—"

“You sound like an asshole.” 

 “Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”

Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.

“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.

The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.

Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.

Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.

 “Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky’s move in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life. 

“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.

“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.

 “I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”

 “Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.

 “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair. 

 “But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”

 "I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”

It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.

Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.

After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.

When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.

“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.

“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice. 

“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door. 

“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.

There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.

“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”

“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.

“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera. 

“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room. 

“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 

You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra. 

Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it. 

“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.

“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face. 

“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. 

“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.” 

“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.

“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”

It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?

“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”

“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”

“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window. 

You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.

She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room. 

“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients. 

“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked. 

“No, she didn’t.”

“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face. 

“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.” 

You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place. 

As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess. 

Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open their eyes.

Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that he was so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him. 

“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”

“No.” He mumbled.

“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.

“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”

“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.” 

Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could. 

Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures. 

The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you. 

“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.” 

“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand. 

She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room. 

You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown. 

The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores. 

While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name. 

“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands. 

“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.

“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down. 

Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone? 

“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you. 

“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite. 

“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.” 

“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”

“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.” 

“This is how cryostasis works—iit freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” 

“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.” 

“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.

“Yes, how do you know that?” 

“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.” 

You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”

“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.” 

You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall. 

“Is anything wrong?��� You furrowed.

“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression. 

“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded. 

“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left. 

Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you. 

“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.

Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. 

“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.

“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.

Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.

“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile. 

“Bucky.” 

You froze and snatched your hand out of his. 

“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.

“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.

“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend. 

“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial. 

That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.

“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”

“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap. 

“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.

“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”

“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.” 

You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head. 

How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy? 

“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face. 

“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”

“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?” 

“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”

You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.

“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.

“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”

“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other. 

“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open. 

You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair. 

Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet. 

“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed. 

In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck. 

As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.

He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch. 

“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.

Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees. 

“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face. 

“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.” 

“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire. 

Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.

The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.

“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.” 

Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”

“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend. 

“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet. 

Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open. 

“Doll, no… You don’t have to...” 

“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove. 

The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism. 

“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?” 

“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.

“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”

“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe. 

“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed. 

“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together. 

You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.  

[coffeeandbatboys]

Where Your Road Leads

Pairing: Fives x Fem!Reader, platonic Torrent (Kix, Jesse & Rex) x reader, platonic Echo x reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, temporary spousal death, pregnancy, fluff, language, throwing up...I think that's all

A/N this is possibly my longest one shot ever...

A knock sounds on your door.

Kix.

You'd been expecting him for the last two hours and he’s just now made it to your home. You open the door with every nerve buzzing.

“Kix, what took—”

You pause in fear when his face reveals only sadness and guilt.

“What's going on?” You demand, ushering the medic inside.

“I'm so sorry, vod'ika.” Is all he can manage with tears gathering in his eyes. Fives. Something bad happened to Fives. You’ve heard the report that he'd tried to kill the Chancellor, and that he was wanted by the Corries. But you thought he'd be safe with Rex. After all, the captain had been worried about him when he stopped by earlier.

“Kix.” You repeat. “Where's Fives?”

The medic takes a deep breath.

“He’s been,” he chokes on a shaky breath and his already unstable voice lowers to a whisper. “killed.”

Your knees buckle beneath you and you want to throw up. You stumble to the ‘fresher, Kix following behind to hold your hair as you empty the contents of your stomach.

“Oh, maker! No….fuck no.” You cry, dry heaving now. “There's no way.”

Kix runs a hand over his face to hide the haunted look in his eyes.

It takes a few minutes for your breathing to calm down. “And the test?” You quietly ask the question you've been dreading since he came in. It’s the reason you were expecting him, after all.

He turns to face you.

“Conclusive. You're two months pregnant.”

For the next six months, Torrent is always a comm away. Kix stopping in to make sure you're eating well enough to support both you and the baby, and Jesse helping you set up a nursery. Rex goes with you to most of your appointments if he can. You're grateful to have a family, even if they're not blood, and even if you and Fives weren't officially ‘married’. He’s still your husband, and they're your family.

It still hurts to wake up with a cold back where there would normally be the warmth of his chest, pressed against it, and anything that reminds you of Fives in your apartment remains untouched

When Echo is brought back, he finds out all about what happened and decides that the Bad Batch can wait. For now, he needs to uphold a promise that he'd made to Fives when the two of you first got together. If anything were to happen to a domino twin and his significant other was left behind, the remaining brother would take care of them. Even with the looming realization that his best friend is dead, Echo couldn't be more excited to be an uncle.

A year and a half later, you're sitting at the table, reading about the Chancellor’s ‘accidental' death and a subsequently revealed plot to kill the Jedi via the GAR, when you hear the front door open. Echo must be back with little Fiv'ika from the store earlier than expected.

But the footfalls that find their way into the kitchen aren’t mechanical like Echo's, and there's no excited babbling from your son.

You turn to see just who had let themselves into your house and—

Well…damn. This is new.

Fives is standing in the doorway. His curls are a little longer and his shoulders hang a bit, but he still has that light in his eyes, and his goatee is kept the way he always used to do it, and the tattoo is on the same spot that it always was.

You don't trust your eyes with the image. He can't be alive. He would have been here this whole time if he was alive.

It’s only when he speaks that you accept that he's here.

“Ner runi…” he murmurs, and you cross the distance to throw your arms around him. He's warm and soft and above all, he's real.

“Fives!” You cry, bitter tears rolling down your cheeks. “Where the hell have you been? You were dead!”

Instead of letting him answer, you grab his face and crash your lips against his. He returns the kiss with a relieved hum and tugs you closer. When you pull away, he wipes a few tears off your cheek with a calloused thumb, and his own eyes become glossy.

“I went in deep cover to investigate the chancellor. Commanders Cody and Fox are the only ones who know that I'm alive at all.”

The front door opens again, and this time it’s the sounds of your laughing child and Echo announcing “We’re home!”

Fives, however, stills with panic and pulls away from you.

“Osik,” he curses himself. “I should have realized that you could have moved on.”

I didn't.” You cut him off. “I didn't move on. You're in for the surprise of your life, Babe.”

His eyebrows scrunch as Echo and Fiv'ika enter the room. Echo stops in his tracks when he registers Fives’ face and you silently take the child from his arms.

“Firstly I want you to meet your son, Fives Jr., or as we call him, Fiv'ika.”

Fives’ eyes go wide and his knees suddenly feel shaky. He's not sure that he trusts his voice, but he tries anyways.

“You had our first kid and I wasn't there? Oh, maker. Fuck.” he brings a hand to cover his mouth, and tears spill over his cheeks. He falls to his knees and looks up at you.

“Ni ceta, Mesh'la. I don't know what to say…”

You shake your head and tug on his sleeve, silently asking him to get up. You wrap one arm around the love of your life and press your temple to his, while the other arm holds your son.

“It’s okay. You whimper. “We’re here. Were together.”

Fiv’ika reaches tiny hands up to grab his father’s goatee. Fives lets out a wounded noise and kisses your cheek.

You pull away for a second.

“Secondly, you’ll want to see who’s been helping me.”

Confusion crosses his face and you look over to Echo, who’s been standing outside the doorway of the kitchen.

“Who is….” Fives trails off, eyes locking on his twin. “Echo?”

The paler clone’s eyes fill with tears and he nods.

“Su cuy’gar, Fives.”

Your husband gives your shoulder a squeeze and rushes towards his brother with open arms. The two quickly fall into a sobbing embrace and you watch, practically beaming.

“I would ask how you’re alive but if I survived being blown up I’m pretty sure that it’s not that hard.” Echo laughs.

Fives only looks horrified. “I am so sorry to both of you. I should have been there-”

“Hey,” you stop him, moving next to both of them, Fiv’ika in between. “We’re safe.”

Fives pulls you all together in a hug, mumbling “I love you all so much.” He’s holding his entire world—his wife, his son, and his twin brother—in his arms, and he’ll be damned if he’s letting any of you go soon.

Mando'a translations:

Vod'ika: Younger sibling

Ner runi: My soul

Osik: Shit

Ni ceta: I'm sorry; I kneel

Su cuy'gar: Hello; You're alive

[numberonetacostan]

I'm coming here to say. Taco does NOT gaf about her health. I picture her getting shot someday for some reason and kicking and screaming when the others try to drag her to an hospital or medical room. She is huffy and stubbornly insist that she is fine and she does not need their foolish help. She would not relent until her body practically forces her to relent. I think pickle is like carrying her all panicking like ''WE NEED TO GET YOU MEDICAL ATTENTION NOW'' and taco despite everything being so angry and answering him with ''I'm sorry pickle...IS THIS OUR GUNSHOT WOUND?!?!'' because the man is like insanely worried for her and her health and is practically DRAGGING her, to get medical help. she is annoyed by the moment but when she is like on the hospital bed thinking she finds it sweet that he still didn't left her to die. Taco thinks lowly of herself so, I feel she does not truly understand pickle kindness when these stuff happens, she brings it up to him and pickle looks at her with the most concerned face ever because taco he may be bitter and resentful but he does not want you DEATH taco. I'd like to think this is a bit of the moment they slowly begin to find a bit of a more common ground. There is a lot to be understood they could never be friends again, but, they slowly begin to look out for each other more often. There is something I love and its pickle looking out for knife to find him trying to get a dissociated taco out of her room to eat something, its a bit of, looking at the vulnerability taco displays in post-canon that makes him frown and perhaps just put some pillows in the couch so she can rest more comfortably.

I feel, pickle is pretty scared or at least shaken up by earthquakes, so like after the finale if an earthquake hit taco would be worriedly pacing onto the woods and all her thoughts are pickle and if he's alright, and before she knows it she sneaks into the hotel and places some warm tea on his door. This ends up becoming an habit, everytime there is an earthquake, taco will sneak into the hotel the best of her abilities and place a cup of tea right under his door, and pickle finds out it was her in post-canon when an earthquake hit and she placed some tea on his table and he finally connects the dots (especially because the one leaving tea at his doorstep didn't left any, because she already gave him tea after all.) when questioned about it I imagine taco reluctantly confirms it and tries to leave but hears a quiet ''thank you.'' coming from behind. They may never be the same again but, that doesn't mean they have to hold onto that heartbreak and resentment forever. (as a fun fact I'd like to think they both would team up to mess with OJ and OJ fucking hates it.)

Hi Kiara!!!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for submitting more hcs!!! :] I'm sorry this took so long to answer!!! I was going to respond to it with the others I went through last night but I quite literally fell asleep in the middle of typing. I was sleepy lol.

NO SHE DOES NOT INDEED

OMG insisting she's fine while she's horribly injured Taco, yes please!!!! Cuz she'd definitely do this before she tries to change and be more open/honest, but even after, if she's in a lot of pain and not thinking straight I can def see her falling back on hold habits, yeah? And she has such a high pain tolerance and is so good at ignoring her body's signals after her time in the woods that I can really really see her not giving in until she physically can't resist at all anymore!!!!! Might make her own injuries worse with her struggling, yeah? >:)

Please you can't send me things as funny as "'I'm sorry pickle...IS THIS OUR GUNSHOT WOUND?!?!" I will stop replying to asks because I will be too busy LAUGHING!!!! /lh /j /vpos!!!!^^ OUGH and it being Pickle who's carrying her!!^^ But Taco is putting on her angry and venomous persona because it's a high stress situation and she's falling back on what's familiar AAAA!!!

And she would find it so sweet after!!! AUGH girl is so very robbed for positive attention and self-loathes so hard she genuinely doesn't understand why anyone, especially Pickle of all people, would want to save her. Her being so honestly surprised when Pickle says he doesn't want her dead even if he's upset with her hurts my heart and you know what I think it would hurt his too even. He's a nice guy!! I am so on the Pickle not wanting to see Taco suffering or hurt train even if he doesn't want to be her friend again so hard. I am the conductor of the train!!!!!!!!!!!! >XD

And them finding more common ground!!! Yes please!!! He does not want to be friends with her again and she must and will respect and accept that!!! But there doesn't have to be vitriol, yeah? He. Would. Not. Enjoy. Her. Pain!!!! hdusihu he would get her help if he saw her dissociating!!! Convincing Taco to eat something!!! <3<3<3

Oh my god and if his fear of earthquakes is something he shared with Taco specifically while they were friends. No one else knows, at least until later. AUGH her giving him her tea as a LOVE LANGUAGE!!!! GAH!!!!^^ Giving tea is such a wonderful love language. (Projecting). And then in post-canon she gets the courage to give him the tea more directly!!! AAAAAA!!!!! AHUgghgh her admitting she's been thinking of him all these years even if she hadn't apologized yet. GUFAH. "They may never be the same again but, that doesn't mean they have to hold onto that heartbreak and resentment forever." YOURE SO RIGHT KIARA YOURE SO SO RIGHT. They may not be besties again but they don't have to have bitterness aaaaaaa!!! They can just. Peacefully exist in the same place!!!!!^^

[genderqueerdykes]

With money and medical fields, goodness you are correct when you say "the medical field isn't your friend, it's for profit". I'm feeling this effect personally trying to get diagnosed with autism as an afab in her 20s. Already, I have the disadvantages of being an adult and a woman, I had to fight to get on the waiting list, lies thrown straight at my face by incompetent doctors, and even "you're getting a diagnosis for (financial) benefits" from those same terrible doctors. The waiting list time is far too long on the NHS and the price for private is ridiculously expensive. I just want a diagnosis and go on with my day to get the right help I need and all the medical field see is either a nuisance or profit. I hate it so much

i was literally also thinking about autism when i wrote that post, so im extremely glad you decided to send a message about this

that's another huge issue with the medical industry as well. research into autism has only seriously been conducted within the last few decades. like i want to remind people that when autism was first becoming known to the public, people would literally say autism isn't real. autism. something that we very well know to be real these days. i literally used to encounter so many people who would say "autism isn't real because there's no historical evidence before now to prove otherwise."

eventually, the present becomes that time that will be seen as the past. like one day, no studies on a subject exist... but down the road, they happen. just because something isn't being widely acknowledged by the general public doesn't mean it literally doesn't exist.

im so sorry you've been treated like that, holy shit. i would have never in my life even considered someone looking for an autism diagnosis just to get financial assistance? also like. what is wrong wiht an autistic person needing financial assistance. workplaces are designed for allistics, not autistics. you are already going to have an inherent disadvantage in finding employment that you can keep up with and that pays well because workplaces are not designed to accomodate you... at all. even with getting those accommodations, work can still be an absolute nightmare

i am so sorry they've treated you this way. especially when it comes to AFAB people and women, getting an autism diagnosis is nigh impossible. the medical industry gets pissed that whatever help you may need won't go into their pocket, but another organization's instead. autistic people aren't profitable enough. there's no medication specifically for autistic people. they can't push medications and invasive procedures as hard as they can with other conditions. the push is there, but it's not as bad as it is with something like schizophrenia where they can force you into in/outpatient therapy and force you to take medications against your will

i wish you the best of luck in getting your diagnosis. like you said you just want to move on with your life. you shouldn't have to go without the knowledge and resources you need just because it's not profitable enough for the medical complex. it's disgusting. i wish you the best of luck, if you need any help, feel free to come back any time

[remushrts]

bike killer

— pairing: marlene mckinnon x fem!reader

— a/n: i loved writing this actually!!! pls if you have any marlene requests feel free to send them, she's underappreciated really

— warnings: blood/talk of injuries but it's only a scraped knee, a meet-ugly (?) in some ways but marlene can run into me anyday with her bike

From all the ways you've met people along the years, this was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing and unique one. You were heading to work when you decided to get a shortcut by the park next to your favourite coffee shop. It was early in the morning, and despite a few other pedestrians like yourself, the park was pretty empty. You could get a little fresh air before you spent the next hours locked in a cubicle, and the smell of the freshly cut grass was always invigorating. It was a nice day out, the kind of day you cannot help but let your mind wonder.

You shouldn't have, all things suggested, because the moment you look away from your path, out of nowhere, a biker slams into you.

You fall into your knees with the impact, feeling the harsh pavement scraping your skin raw, your skin brushing against the fabric of your skirt and staining it with blood. "Great, exactly what I needed today!" You huff, picking up your purse and raising your eyes to the transgressor.

The blonde girl carelessly tosses her bike to the grass, helping you up with a hand. The moment might be far from the best, but all you can think about is how she might be the nicest looking girl you've ever met. Her hair is tied in two braids and from up close, you can see a couple freckles on her nose and cheeks, the small gap on her teeth showing when she speaks. She does have an accent, though you can't detect from where precisely. "I'm sorry, it must be my brakes." She sounds sincere, her arm still held out like you were about to fall to the ground again at any moment. She looks down at your knees, wincing. "I'm really sorry, shit, that looks bad..."

"Tell me about it." You try to laugh it off, doing your best to ignore the spike of pain that stings your nerves every time you try to support your weight on your right leg. It took most of the impact of your fall, so you're not surprised the pain is worse.

The girl in front of you seems to think for a moment before she runs back to her bike, searching through her backpack for what seems to be a first aid kit. "It's not much, okay, but I think it's better to clean this up at least. Are you in a hurry?"

You shake your head, not even bothering to check the clock. You knew your boss would be understanding, given the conditions you were currently in.

The girl nods to you, quickly putting herself to work. She tells you her name is Marlene, and her friend, Lily, who lives a few streets back in that same neighborhood, is an emt with her brother, hence the first aid kit in her bag. She tells you that her brother made her learn how to patch up a few scratches, because of the number of accidents she's been involved in last summer, mostly, she adds, victimless. You crack a "So I just got lucky?" at the remark, earning a laugh from her. All the time she's talking and easing you up as she pours the rubbing alcohol on your wounds to disinfect them, and all the time you're looking at her face so grateful for the small talk. "Okay, we're done. Think you can get up now alright?"

You try to, pushing yourself up and leaning against a tree trunk, the pain is far from gone, but at least the bruises are properly dressed and cleaned. You thank her for her help, and she smiles awkwardly at you in response, scratching the back of her hair.

"It's nothing, really. Here..." She pauses, picking up a pen from her pocket and scribbling numbers on the inside of your arm. "That's my number, let me know if I need to cover your medical bills, or a new skirt." She jokes, clicking the pen with a flourish as she finishes.

"You might just have to." You laugh softly, looking at the wiggly lines on your skin. You make sure to add her to your contacts as soon as possible.

"i saved your contact as bike killer"

"close enough."

[khaire-traveler]

Hello, I am from Gaza, due to the shortage of medicine in Gaza, my mother who is a type 1 diabetic and was supposed to undergo urgent eye surgery, has not been able to get insulin or any medical care for the past three months. . Some members of my family fled to the southernmost part of Gaza (Rafah) in tents. But my parents and sisters have nowhere else to stay. They are forced to stay in the Nuseirat refugee camp, which has been bombed since the beginning of Christmas. "I am on my knees asking for your donations. Please help me. where you can.

Goal: $700

**"DO NOT DONATE TO THIS PERSON; THEY ARE MOST LIKELY A SCAMMER!!! DO DONATE TO ORGANIZATIONS SUCH AS THE PALESTINE CHILDREN'S RELIEF FUND!!!***

All the casual readers need to know is do not donate to this person; they are almost certainly a scammer (I say this after looking into it further). Scammer, please, by all means, continue reading. I'd love to hear your defense. c:

Let's dissect this, friends. One incorrect piece of information at a time.

List of Scammer Red Flags Within This Ask

This account has quite a few posts, but all of them are reblogs dated only up to three days ago. The only original post is their pinned post, and even that was posted three days ago. They even reblogged sending this very same ask to another person who asked for a link, as they did not give one. This, too, was dated three days ago. This is fishy to me.

After looking into your claims about having a Type 1 Diabetic mother who needed "urgent eye surgery" without any access to insulin for supposedly three months, I doubt the validity of your statement. It sounds like your mother has pretty severe diabetes, seeing that she needed urgent eye surgery. Sounds like she's reached the criticality of risking blindness as a complication. That's pretty intense, and I highly doubt she would last three months without insulin. "Without insulin, people with T1D will die from hyperglycemia within days or weeks." She is no longer with us. Why does she need money for treatment if she is deceased?

This is a very real article discussing the very real consequences of the fall of Gaza's healthcare system. There is no healthcare system in place currently - nothing substantial or official. There are freelance doctors providing support where they can, humanitarian organizations with their limited authority and ability attempting to provide aid, and medical professionals of all kinds trying their damnedest to put their skills to use in ways they've never had to before. So I ask you, where the fuck is this money going? Are you going to pay ANERA $700 for your deceased mother's insulin?

Seems you have done your research on these tent and refugee camp locations. However, there was an unfortunate airstrike on the Nuseirat refugee camp in early March. From my understanding, it may no longer be standing at all. Even if it is, I doubt, very much so, that you are there. I'm not sure where you are, but I feel it is not there. And where are you posting from, if I may ask? I'm curious how you've gotten internet access. Although I'm aware it's possible, from my understanding, it's extremely difficult to come by.

The Internet thing leads us into our fifth point. How will you access this money? If you were to say, run out of Internet connection, where would this $700 go? How will you get it out of your PayPal account? From your local refugee camp ATM?

PayPal does not work in Palestine, dumbass. You are as bright as a black hole and twice as dense.

-

If you need genuine help, I'm sorry, but this isn't the right way to ask for it. I wish I could do more for you. I wish I could go there myself and give you the relief that you need. I'm not sure what money could do for you in Gaza, especially when medical care is literally impossible to find with many doctors having, unfortunately, passed away and many more fleeing the country, but if you're real, I hope you receive the care that you need. I hope you find somewhere safe to reside.

But I do not think you need help. I think you are someone preying on the kindness of others, taking advantage of a goddamn genocide to earn some extra money. Your money is soaked in the blood of innocents. Innocents who could've used it themselves. Scammer, you disgust me. Children have fucking died while you were busy trying to earn some extra cash, profiting from their suffering. Fuck you, truly. There's a special place in the deep, deep depths of the afterlife, waiting to drag you kicking and screaming to the consequences of your actions. I hope you regret this scam. I hope it haunts you.

[morally-grey-variant]

love is a dagger [loki x oc][part two]

loki x oc

part two

[master post]

[read part one first]

Pairing: Loki x Original Character (she/they)

Agent Grey Forrest can’t quite reconcile her alliance with Loki. After six months of regular hand-to-hand combat and close-weapons training, they’re not quite friends but can’t exactly stay away from each other. Everything changes the day Loki accidentally stabs Grey during a training exercise.

Part Two Summary: Ten stitches later, Grey needs rest. Loki stays to care for his favorite agent, knowing he’ll have to answer to Tony -- and the other Avengers -- for the accident later. After witnessing Tony’s rage, they both know this is just the tip of the iceberg. Caring for an injured Grey tests the tenuous friendship, and as Loki bares a shred of his soul, Grey is forced to confront the truth of their feelings.

 Maybe later can wait a little longer. (wc 3 k)

Warnings: Later episodes become more explicit with dark themes -- Minors DNI. Blood, hospital/surgery/sedatives/stitches, general angst, mild swearing, non-explicit nudity, inferred non-descriptive references to hypothetical SA. (if I've missed something please let me know!)

I drift in and out of fitful bursts of sleep. Shouts from Tony, his face contorted in rage; Loki's strong, capable hands; fear and angst and blood, so much dripping blood everywhere.

The nurse shakes me awake. I immediately search for Loki; he’s hovering behind her. I can’t read his heavy expression. He stayed.

“Time to go,” she declares, although I couldn’t have been out for more than a few minutes. She helps me upright and shows me how to change the bandage that now wraps around my torso, protecting the raw edges of the fresh wound. Loki hovers, observing, though I can’t read his heavy expression.

I shrug out of the scratchy paper hospital gown, but Loki politely averts his gaze. My cheeks still flush hot red. I'm still wearing my athletic leggings, and the nurse offers me a plain black sweatshirt branded with a stylized A that I gratefully tug over my sports bra. She leaves me with a paper box of bandages.

Loki smirks and offers me a hand. “Can you walk now, or do you need me to carry you again, Agent?”

I flush. “I can walk.” 

Loki escorts me out of the medical wing. His hand lingers at the small of my back, pressing the sweatshirt against my skin. “It's a long walk back to the SHIELD dormitories,” he muses. “How far can our brave Agent go before succumbing to the lingering morphine?” 

“To say nothing of the mortal wound in my chest,” I counter, instantly regretting it. His hand stiffens, fingers curling into my back. Fuck.

“I fear Tony may, quite literally, have my head for this.” His biting sarcasm just isn't there. He looks straight forward, fist pressed against the small of my back as he guides me down the hallway. 

“Let me deal with Tony.” I don't have the same sway as the others, but I might be the only person who will stand up for Loki. 

The thought tugs at a ragged edge of my heart. My head swims again; I stumble, catching myself against the wall with my right arm. 

“Careful,” Loki murmurs, both arms looping around me. My heart pounds, those ragged edges snagging against some insistent pull. 

“Let me help you.”

I lay a hand against his shoulder, gently nudging him back. “No,” I grumble. My breath catches as I remember the last time I refused his help. 

Damn it all, Grey. 

Loki wouldn't hurt me. That much I know for certain. Outside of our carefully coordinated sparring matches – today notwithstanding – he'd never so much as raised his voice towards me. 

But Loki relents. He released his grip, but kept his hands hovering just within reach. I slump against the wall, sighing.

“I'm sorry, Loki.”

“What on Midgard do you possibly have to apologize for?”

I shake my head, laughing softly. The movement tugs my stitches, and I curl forward, groaning in pain. Loki's hand finds my shoulder.

“I'm still horrible at close-quarters combat,” I groan, clutching a hand to my ribs. “I'm sorry. I should be better by now–”

“Oh, do shut up,” Loki laughs wearily. He hooks a finger beneath my chin, gingerly lifting my head. 

My heart does that tightening, flip-flopping thing again. Breath whooshes out of my lungs. Loki smiles knowingly; my face probably drops into some slack-jawed expression. 

He still hasn't kissed me.

We’ve trained together nearly every day. For six months, Loki has schooled me in hand-to-hand combat, or close-quarters sparring with knives and daggers wielded with a trickster's sly maneuvers. 

Six months of lingering touches that evolved from instructive placements - “no, you should land here,” a hand against a shoulder; “hold your stance like this,” a shifted leg, gripping a tensed thigh muscle far too tenderly – to more deliberate touches. Fingers brushing down arms. Stray hairs tucked behind an ear. Fingers splayed across worn leather armor. 

Vague exchanges that didn't exactly amount to confessions. But for Loki, they were everything.

“I would greatly prefer you come back to me in one piece,” before I left on a field mission. “Now, show me your right hook again.”

“I trust you, Loki.” A dozen times before a dozen different maneuvers. “You don't underestimate me the way the others do.”

“You're not a woman to be underestimated.”

Oh.

“Did you forget I'm the one who–” he begins, his voice dropping off before he could say it. Green eyes glance away from mine, though he never drops my chin.

“I still trust you, Loki.” My voice cracks in my throat.

His tongue darts out between his lips, parting them infinitesimally. A decision weighs on his dark brow. Yes. Please, Loki.

His finger slips off my chin. “You need rest. Come on.”

All the breath rushes out of me. He runs both hands through his dark curls, pushing them back from his face. Resetting himself.

Our journey back to the SHIELD dormitories took an age. I need two breaks, clutching my chest and waving off Loki's attempts to pick me up again. I know he would gladly lift me into his arms again and carry me straight to my room. If anyone here saw that happening, Fury would personally fire me. Canoodling with the higher-ups. Consorting with Avengers – or, the Avenger-adjacent.

We pause outside my room. One door in a long hallway of identical rooms. For the most part, that’s all I am to SHIELD – one agent in a long stretch of near-identical stories. An over-eager fighter with a knack for gathering intelligence, desperate to prove themselves to the right authority figure. A body to send to the front lines before the real stars of the show assembled, or even stepped foot outside the compound.

“Mission accomplished.” Loki announces quietly. He looks me up and down as if scanning for more signs of … what? Fatigue? Injury?

Loneliness?

I press my hand to the biometric scanner beside the door. It blips and glows with life, unlocking my door with a soft click. “Come in?”

“Is that a question, or a command?”

I grin, pushing the paper box of bandages into his arms. “Command.”

My room looks like every other dormitory on this floor: cramped and efficient, but blessedly private. A floor-to-ceiling window forms the exterior wall of the narrow room, looking down over the wooded area behind the compound. Beside the window, a built-in desk with shelves above takes up the other half of the exterior wall. The wall opposite holds a twin bed and a wardrobe, with the left wall consisting of more shelving. The right wall held a small door which leads to my private, if tiny, bathroom.

Loki’s gaze scrolls around the room, lingering on the personal effects strewn across the space. “The servants of Asgard have better quarters than these,” he mused, dropping the bandages on my desk. 

“This is no royal palace,” I counter, leaning against the doorframe as it slides shut behind me. I watch Loki carefully as he makes one slow turn, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. 

“Indeed,” he answers, “though Stark no doubt sees himself king.” 

I flinch, remembering our earlier encounter. “I don't remember much,” I lie, shifting my feet. 

“You threatened to kill me,” Loki reminds me with a sly grin.

“Then you’ll be sure to stay on my good side.”

Loki watches me for a long time. He releases his grip on the dagger at his waist, suddenly seeming to realize where his hand had unconsciously come to rest. With a roll of his shoulders and a shimmer of green light, he shifts into something more comfortable: black tapered joggers and a black hoodie. 

There it is again. That stupid heart-squeezing, stomach-flipping feeling. Loki never dresses down like this. The man – god –  never wears jeans, let alone sweatpants. I've rarely seen him out of his Asgardian finery, or a formal Midgardian suit.

“Is this all right?” His voice drops to a soft, low question. He offers a shrug at his own appearance.

“Whatever you're comfortable in,” I answer, tugging at the hem of the hospital sweatshirt. “Do you mind if I shower? I'm disgusting.”

He wrinkles his nose, smirking. “Please do.” 

I swat his arm lightly as I step past him, grabbing a change of clothes from my wardrobe. “Make yourself comfortable, and don't get blood on anything.”

“Already taken care of.” He drops into my desk chair, extending a cupped palm that flickers with the remnants of his magic. Of course. 

“Do you ever shower, or do you just magic it all away?” I laugh.

He smirks, lifting an eyebrow. “I do.” He gestures to the bathroom with his head. “Is that thing big enough for a bath?”

“Just a shower,” I shrug, sliding open the door and praying I hadn’t forgotten any stray underwear on the floor. “Why, do you need one?”

“Is that an invitation?” 

I nearly throw up on the spot. He crosses his arms, leaning back in the chair and smirking like the devil himself. I wouldn't say no.

“I prefer to shower alone, thank you,” I croak, wishing I'd come up with something cleverer to say as he lit up with a genuinely bemused laugh. “I'm exhausted and disgusting.”

“Oh, I'm aware,” he laughs as I slide the door shut behind me. 

Oh, my god. The filthy, blood-streaked reflection of a wild woman glares back at me in the bathroom mirror. My sweat-streaked forehead is smudged with my own blood – fingerprint-shaped blotches the size of Loki's fingers. My chest contracts at the memory of his hand cradling my head while the doctor sewed me up. 

Lifting the sweatshirt over my head, I flinch. The upward motion tugs at my stitches. Oh, this is going to be another nightmare. There's a good amount of grunting and hunching over and wiggling my torso before I'm free from the garment. 

The bright red, puckered tear in my flesh screams back at me angrily. Two inches below the elastic band of my sports bra, in the dead center of my right rib cage, the two-inch long stab wound is absolutely going to scar. Ten stitches meticulously pin the flesh back together. I wince as I graze my finger along the ridge, but the memory hurts more: me, clumsily jumping backwards; Loki lunging forward, confidently anticipating my evasion. His blade skimming over my ribs, scratching the bone. 

Loki's face as he realized too late what he'd done.

I trusted Loki; he stabbed me. Thor wouldn't be surprised.

That's why it rattled Loki, I realize. Everyone expects him to turn villainous again. No one expects him to be good.

But he'd been good with me for six months. Gentle. Often acerbic and sometimes short, but never cruel. He'd never hurt me intentionally, only small slip-ups here and there until I learned to properly block or anticipate attacks. 

I still trust him. That won’t change. 

I need to trust him now. I cringe.

“Loki?” I call, parting the sliding door a few inches.

“Is that my invitation?” he calls playfully.

“Ten seconds of seriousness, Loki.”

“As the grave, darling.”

My heart flips. Gooseflesh spreads down my arms. Darling.

“I need help.” My back faces the bedroom, pointedly ignoring the word. I can’t bring myself to look at him. “You can say no. I can call Nat.”

“You’ve yet to give me a favor to refuse.”

I draw in a deep breath. “I can't lift my arms over my head. I had trouble taking my sweatshirt off.” I begin, hoping he'll catch my meaning. Please don't make me say it out loud.

“Are you in pain?” He sounds closer now, but I still don't turn around. There's genuine concern, all sarcasm wiped away. 

“Only a little,” I lie. I can feel my pulse in the wound. “I… I need help.” I back up towards the door, nudging it open a few more inches with my hand.

“Oh.” 

“Oh,” I echo, my arms wrapped around my chest. “I'll just call Nat–” I begin, grabbing the edge of the door, but suddenly Loki's inches away. 

“Do you want to have to explain to her what happened today?” The edge of playfulness is back, because he knows I don't. Natasha and I are friends, but she doesn't approve of my training with the enemy. I'm not ready for this conversation yet, and it's steadily getting harder to explain.

I sigh, pushing the door open another inch until my entire back is visible. “Just help me,” I plead.

“Do you trust me?” 

There's a weight to his voice I don't expect. I turn slightly, and he's still right there behind me. Solemnity paints his sharp features. His bright green eyes waver softly as they reflect the bathroom's bright fluorescents. 

“Of course I trust you.” I answer with what I hope is equal solemnity. “As long as you can behave like a gentleman,” I add, forcing myself to smirk. Levity.

“More than a gentleman,” he teases back, gesturing for me to turn back around. “A prince.”

“I don't know how that's supposed to help,” I laugh. Gingerly, I raise my arms away from my torso. “Princes aren't exactly famous for their propriety.”

“Second sons especially,” Loki adds. “I'm going to touch your back. Is that okay?”

“Y-yes.” Something in my chest swells. He's never exactly asked for permission to touch me before. But he's never undressed me, alone in my bedroom, either. 

His fingers graze my back. “How…” he begins, his fingers sliding under the elastic band. “I don't understand. There's no clasp?”

I shake my head. How many bras has he undone? The thought deflates the warm balloon in my chest; I shove the thought aside. “No, it's … it's all elastic.” Explaining my stab wound to Natasha would be easier than explaining a sports bra to a man. A non-human man. 

“That's why I can't get it off myself,” I continue. “It's tight, and hard to pull it over my head on a good day. Much less with ten stitches in my abdomen.”

His fingers twitch. “Eleven.”

“What?”

“I counted eleven,” Loki explains quietly, gingerly tugging at the elastic again.

“Can't you use magic?” I ask, suddenly desperate to not be having this conversation. “I probably should've asked that from the beginning.” I didn't ask because I don't want you to use magic. The realization stirs the pit of my stomach.

His hands still, pinched between the band and my skin. “Not an option.” His words are clipped. My body tenses up.

“What?” I croak, head curling down towards my chest. Fuck. I’ve messed up, somehow. This shouldn’t be happening. This isn’t how I wanted this to happen. 

Something shifts in my brain. I can’t believe I’m actually letting myself admit it; actually accepting the admission. Letting myself acknowledge that I ever wanted it to happen. Wanted Loki to undress me, wanted his fingers to stretch across my torso and slide over my skin–

“Boundaries,” he finally says. His fingers shift, examining the straps along the top of the garment. They stretch in a web from the back to my shoulders. I force myself to hold in the full-body shudder his touch threatens to elicit.

“I’m not following,” I admit, biting my lip. “If you’re already… taking my bra off, how is magic … worse?”

Loki sighs. His fingers pause again. I can’t bear to turn around and look at him. What the fuck is going on? 

“I’m trying to be … better.” 

His words are unbearably soft, but I can hear how his throat pinches against them. His voice drags against those ragged edges of my heart again. “If all it takes is a snap of my fingers to undress you completely… What kind of monster needs such magic?”

My breath hitches in my chest. I freeze, clenching every muscle. What… what does that mean? I swallow thickly, breath shaking. Loki’s killed people. Loki’s hurt people. Loki’s a villain. Loki’s the bad guy. 

No. I don’t think he’s capable of … whatever he’s implying. 

“You aren’t a monster, Loki.” My voice shakes.

“You don’t sound so sure.” His voice is frighteningly flat. His hand pulls away from me.

“Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” I don’t feel like I’m inside my own body. My blood is ice and air simultaneously, my vision blurring to a single point on the wall in front of me.

“My life is plagued by acts of which I feel no sense of pride.” Dark tones undercut any warmth in his deep, velvet voice. “But if it helps… no, I would never… not that. I didn’t mean to … imply such, to frighten you. I’m sorry.”

A breath whooshes from my chest again. “Okay. I trust you.”

“You won’t meet another living soul who shares the same sentiment.” He truly, honestly, and completely believes that. “I can’t atone for what I’ve done, even if it wasn’t in my right mind. But I want to be … better. Is this all right?” His tone shifts on the last sentence, the pads of his fingers tapping against my shoulder. I nod silently.

“Square your shoulders.” His voice shifts, and I obey.

“You place so much trust in me. It makes me wonder,” he continues, his thumb sliding beneath the tight fabric. “Am I worthy?”

He tugs at the elastic band, pushing it up to my shoulders without waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question. “Arms forward. Head down.” He shuffles it up and over my shoulders with surprising ease and minimal strain on my stitches, then gingerly nudges my ponytail out of the way as he lifts it over my head. I tuck my arms back through, crossing them over my breasts. “It’s off.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, gaze locked on the white tile floor. “A perfect gentleman.” 

Perhaps in some attempt to protect my modesty, Loki slides the door shut. Turning back, one arm wrapped around my chest, I push it back slightly, peering through the small gap. His dark eyes gaze back. Something has changed between us.

His face sags under the weight of so much self-doubt. My chest cracks open. I press my lips together in a small, sad smile.

“You’re worthy enough to me.”

[continue to part three]

[little-earthquakes-rp]

@kit-just-kit ...plucked from the Disco server

Kit nodded as his suggestion, her brow quirking together as she added "I don't know why yet, But I believe she'll really stick out. This woman……the visceral nature of the crime is so against the feminine and maternal norm. It leads me to think that we're looking for a woman who was denied the chance of being a mother - say through illness or accident, she had a hysterectomy fairly young. Maybe even lost her breasts too perhaps. She doesn't feel like a woman anymore and so, has no empathy for these young, beautiful, most probably very fertile women who were the victims. but at the same time, she's elegant, refined. Possibly even still very beautiful herself even though she doesn't see herself that way". In a sense, she could be describing herself - apart from the fact that Kit was already a mother and found joy in it ever day despite not being with her children all the time. Still, she was of 'a certain age' and had been cast aside for younger models by her last husband, she understood the rage and emptiness of being so lonely, all of a sudden. "The male perpetrator is still the key, physically. He's the one doing the cutting, the raping. He knows what he's doing is wrong, but he wants to please her, to earn her respect and admiration. And she just wants an instrument to wreak her havoc on her victims - it's a very twisted dynamic". Her head shook slightly from side to side, somewhat lost in thoughts of the cruelty of the human race. And then, after a pause, she looked over at him and said "I'm sorry that you were forced to accept my involvement in this matter, Detective Rollins. I know it can't be easy to deal with my profession if you haven't had much interaction with us before". It was only a slight concession, made to try and smooth the way between them for the greater good. But it was needed, she felt.

Everything she said was vital information regarding both medical and psychological history, but he had no way to access any of it to help them find their alleged female suspect. It was frustrating and he wasn't able to stop as the disappointment showed when he sighed and sat back further in the seat. Everything mentioned regarding the female perp would come after they at least had a suspect, and shifted through her history. It didn't get them any closer to where they needed to be. At the mention of the male perp, Alex nodded in agreement and waited patiently for her to say more.

He listened as she worked through her thought process eventually finding herself at something they agreed on: it was a very twisted dynamic if her theory was correct. Watching her process was interesting, making it seem as if she wasn't trying to sell just him on the prospect, but also herself. The waitress interrupted briefly delivering the plates before scooting off to another table.

Alex grabbed his fork when he caught the apology. He paused and looked up staring stunted by the comment. What the hell kind of vibes was he putting out? Placing the fork down on the plate he blinked before doing his best to undo whatever he'd done. "My apologies Ms. Prince if I offended you in any manner. I've been a homicide detective for over fifteen years, and the job has hardened me a bit, or at least that's what I'm told by family and friends. Please forgive me if I've come off as rude or cynical. Something they also tell me." It wouldn't be the last time he'd have to make such an apology, but it was an honest one.

After a few bites, he'd received a notification announcing that they were indeed going to do another sweep of the crime scene. He shared the information, "Looks like they can head back over this afternoon." He sat down his cell and asked, "Would you like to go?"

[rains-rambles]

After I just got into The Evil Within recently during Halloween, I’ve been wanting to see more Ruvik content, so… how about a fluffy one-shot of a gender neutral reader who works in the medical field (doctor, nurse, surgeon, etc) and is in love with Ruvik, and tries to confess?

Hi! Honestly, I completely agree with the fact that we need more Ruben content. With that being said, here you go!

Walking through the halls, they couldn't help but sigh. They had met Ruben before the fire, but when he reached out years later, they couldn't help but take up his offer to live with him. Sue them, nursing school was expensive and they had missed their friend.

Dropping their bag in the hallway, they follow the faint notes of music. Eventually finding him in a secluded room, they can't help but pause and lean up against the doorframe. It's so rare to see him as relaxed as he is while playing piano nowadays, and maybe that's why it tugs on their heart the way it does.

As time had progressed since they had moved in, they couldn't help it when the feeling of friendship changed to a crush and then to love. Seeing him so lost in his own world, relaxed and happy in a way he so rarely is, they can't help but wish that they could see him like this more.

Ruben chuckles as they startle when he speaks up. "You know, sunflower, you don't have to stand in the doorway. Is there something you needed?"

Shaking their head, they wander in and settle down next to him on the piano bench while making sure not to accidentally brush up against his scars and cause him any undue pain. "Not really, just looking for you."

When he laughs, they're struck again by the same heartache from earlier. And that's the last push they need to speak up again. "Ruben, I.... I know this is kind of sudden but I like you. Have for a while actually."

"I get it if you don't feel the same way, just... Please don't hide away? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Their voice quiets, resigned and sad, as they drop their head. But a gentle finger under their chin brings their eyes to meet his own.

Shaking his head, there's a soft smile on his face as he speaks. "And here I was, thinking you only saw me as a friend, dear one. You know, I don't just let anyone come live with me. I've been in love with you for years, sunflower, I was just content to have the ability to keep you close even if I couldn't call you my own."

"Oh." I small chuckle sounds out as they smile at him. "Well then. Ruben Victoriano, would you do me the favor of becoming my boyfriend?"

He leans forward and gently brushes his lips against their own. "As long as you'll do me the favor of becoming my partner."

[fastlikealambo]

the mermaid & the lighthouse. ||older!eddie x black mermaid! reader

summary: widowed father eddie munson is an experienced fisherman and down on his luck operator of one of the last barely functional lighthouses in america.

hawkins, a crumbling fishing village off the coast of maine, is slowly but surely being sold off and an oil spill by the carver oil company the previous year has all but sealed hawkins' fate to be purged of the locals and turned into a resort.

it's in the cards for eddie to sell his boat, pack up his daughter, and give into jason carver's cash offer to turn the lighthouse into a vacation home.

that all changes when a mysterious woman washes up on the rocks, an unearthly being that will change his fate and the fate of his home forever.

Trigger warnings for this chapter: Drowning, Body Horror, Mental Health Discussions, CPR

CHAPTER ONE.

'But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.'

-Hans Christian Andersen

This is a tale of mermaids, love, and what it means to be human.

But to begin,we must have an ending.

“Chrissy? Wynie? Christina and Eowyn Munson!" 

Eddie made his way through the crowded emergency room, wading through police officers, people wrapped in blankets with medical staff hovering around them and others with the same wild look in their eyes as Eddie, searching for someone in the crowd. The corridors seemed to be endless as Eddie broke out into a run past the nurses’ station towards the room but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Sir, you can’t go back there.” The security guard said but Eddie shook them off, spotting a lone nurse.

"Please, I'm looking for my wife and daughter, they were on the ferry?"

"I'm sorry sir, we're swamped, someone should be around to talk to you shortly." The nurse said, barely looking up from her chart and it took everything within him to not scream.  It wasn’t her fault, but he just needed to know what was going on. 

"Eddie."

Eddie turned around to see Robin standing there and he immediately ran to his friend, unbelievably happy to see someone, anyone he knew who might possibly have answers, or at the very least prevent him from spinning his wheels.

"Thank fuck, I can't find Chrissy or Wyn anywhere and nobody knows anything, neither of them are picking up their phones, I'm going out of my mind Robin!" He exclaimed, running his hand through his curly hair, the few gray streaks in it shining in the fluorescent lightning. He had dyed them to match the rest of his head in what he thought was secret but Chrissy liked the grays.

 Robin said nothing, took his hands in her own and it was then that he saw the tears in her eyes, the blood on her rainbow scrubs and his heart stopped in his chest.

No.

"Robin?"

"Eddie, Chrissy and Wynie were in the water for a very long time. By the time they were brought in, neither of them were breathing on their own."

No. 

"Spare me the bullshit Robin, where the fuck is my family?" He yelled, no actual anger in his voice, just pure desperation. A buzzing noise that started when Wayne radioed him intensified in pitch and it felt like he was underwater.

"We were able to stabilize Wyn, but we had to put a tube down her throat to help her breathe, she's in the ICU, Eddie."

 The image that his mind conjured of his little girl in a hospital bed made him want to curl up on the floor but he regained his composure to ask the question he didn’t want to know the answer to.

"And Chrissy?"

"We did everything we could, I'm so sorry Eddie."

Eddie felt his knees give out beneath him, meeting the hospital floor hard, his sobs and screams echoing throughout the hallway as Robin rocked her oldest friend in her arms, no longer able to stifle her own tears.

While his daughter fought to take a breath and his wife took her last, Eddie had been fucking fishing, tossing back a few beers, shooting the shit.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

And then an interlude of two years.

Outside of The Hawkins Middle School principal’s office, Eddie was greeted by the sight of his twelve year old daughter looking very pleased with herself despite the bruise on her face and cut on her lip, the smirk that confirmed to the world that this was Eddie Munson’s kid fading as soon as she saw her father.

“Wyn, what the fuck happened? Who did this to you?” Eddie knelt down by his daughter, taking her chin in hand to inspect her face, rage and frustration building within him but Wynie sighed and shook him off, her face shifting to the same blank expression that had graced her features since he brought her home from the hospital two years prior.

“Mr. Munson, so good of you to join us.” Principal Coleman’s head popped out of the office,  ushering him to come in. A sheepish Eddie followed, sinking into a seat across from the principal, half expecting Wayne to be sitting next to him like he was the one getting detention.

“Mr. Munson, we understand that things have been extremely hard for you both these past two years and we’ve done the best we can to support Eowyn here at school but I’m afraid violence can’t be tolerated.” 

“None of what you’re saying explains why my kid’s face is fucked up, Coleman.”  Eddie said roughly, running a hand through his beard. “But it’s the thought that counts.”

“Mr. Munson, your daughter headbutted another student during lunch, breaking her nose. The student’s mother is threatening to press charges.”

“And did you find out why? Ask any of the other students if-

“Your daughter confessed actually, rather proudly if I might ask but then again, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’m sorry Mr. Munson, but we’ve been lenient with your situation for far too long.” Eddie stood to his feet at that.

“Situation? Her mother died! She almost died! That’s not something a juice box and a pep talk over the summer fixes!”

“Sit down Mr. Munson, I know you don’t believe it but we are on the same side. That child’s parents are out for blood but I’ve managed to keep them at bay by giving Eowyn two weeks of in school suspension, a written apology, and she will be seeing Ms. Kelley, our guidance counselor and Dr. Owens, our school psychiatrist.”

Eddie slowly sat back down, exhaustion taking away any remaining fight he had. He had a plan to keep them both above water after all that had happened, to keep her safe and try to get through each day.

He was failing spectacularly.

“ Wait, she already sees Dr. Owens, twice a week.” Eddie said, confused looking out at his daughter in the hallway who overheard everything and now hung her head in actual sadness.

“Apparently for the last month, she’s been skipping their sessions.”

Jesus H. Christ.

“So do you want to tell me what really happened?” Eddie said,waiting until Wynie was buckled into the car.

Silence.

“Wyn, we can’t go on like this, if you don’t want to talk to me, you need to talk to Owens. No more skipping sessions, sweetheart. And you have to apologize to that kid.”

“He threw Abby Henderson’s lunch in the trash. He’s been doing it all week, she won’t say anything so I did something about it.”  Wynie said softly. Eddie pulled over and turned towards his daughter who looked more and more like Chrissy with each day that passed.

“I’m supposed to say you shouldn’t have done that, that you should have told a teacher, that violence is never the answer, but honestly fuck that. You did something to help your friend and that’s important, Wyn.”

“So I’m not grounded?” Eowyn asked, the first time he had heard her voice in a few days, startling him.

“Oh you’re so grounded but not for the headbutting which is very metal by the way, but for the lying Eowyn. I’m worried about you honey,  there’s nothing you can’t tell me, you know that right?” Eddie asked, reaching for Wyn who moved away.

“I’ve got to inspect the lighthouse tonight, why don’t you come with me? We can have hot cocoa, it will be like old times.” Eddie offered, coughing awkwardly. 

Wynie shrugged, the guarded look back in place.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie said, a little bit of hope in his voice as he started the car again.

Somewhere close, a storm beckoned and the sea betrayed you.

You had been watching the humans above, their ways had called to you more often than not these days, looking for him on the shoreline but he was no longer there. The human child smelled of him but a long time had passed since the sea was aflame and the scent was gone from the water.

You would wait one more day for him before leaving for colder waters and as the day became night, he was not there.

Eddie was gone.

Sadly, you left the rocks to dive under the stormy water and that’s when it happened.

Your tail, your beautiful luminous tail, began to twist uncontrollably beneath you, bloody scales shedding from you one after the other.

Then, agony.

So much pain, your bones shifting and breaking, you couldn’t breathe.

Poseidon, you couldn’t breathe.

The water that had raised you invaded your throat so you couldn’t scream as you disappeared beneath the waves, body broken, body new.

The Hawkins Lighthouse swayed a little, rain pelting the dilapidated lighthouse and Eddie and Wynie by extension. The lighthouse was nothing more than a sad landmark these days rather than the fully functioning lighthouse that saved many a ship centuries before. Still as a promise to Wayne, Eddie kept the lighthouse somewhat clean and serviced the lantern as much as he could.

“As he finished cleaning the lantern, he turned it on, the brightness got him every time but he couldn’t help but frown as the strength of the light seemed to dull with every minute that came and went. It would kill his uncle but the sooner the lighthouse was officially decommissioned, the better it would be.

Wynie stood on the other side of the tiny lantern room, wrapped in a star wars blanket with a thermos of hot cocoa, staring at the water below.  It was hard to believe that just two years ago she would zoom around the tiny room, naming everything she spied in the water, begging Eddie to quiz her on all the clockworks, fuel parts, and vents in the service room.

Now she wouldn’t even step a foot outside the cottage much less the shore.

“I’m all finished here if you want to head down. Maybe we could watch a movie or something?” Eddie asked but she was already out of the room before the question fully left his mouth.

Was this how it was going to be forever?

He had failed his wife and child that night and he continued to fall on his ass since.

This was all his fault.

“Holy shit, Dad! Dad!” 

The alarm in his kid’s voice sent him sprinting towards the stairs but Wynie burst back through the door, running to the glass.

“Dad, look! There’s something on the rocks!” She exclaimed, grabbing Eddie by the hand and dragging him to the window.

At first, Eddie saw nothing, squinting hard at the window but as the light passed over the area below, it shone brighter than it had in years, revealing something curled and limp on the rocks.

Not something, someone.

There was a body on the rocks.

“ Eowyn, Wyn, slow down!” Eddie called out to his daughter who ran ahead of him down the steep lighthouse stairs and into the rainstorm below. 

He had left his phone in the cottage stupidly and had no choice but to follow his daughter, flashlight in tow. Wynie stopped just short of the water, frozen in place so quickly Eddie almost slammed into her. His hands shook as his flashlight revealed the limp naked body of a woman draped across the sharp rocks.

He should leave, call or radio for help, but something told him there wasn’t time, dead or alive, he couldn’t just leave you there.

“Stay here.” Eddie ordered Wynie, turning her around as he walked into the rocky water, slipping his jacket off as he slowly approached your body, slipping on the stones as he inched forward towards you, hands meeting your scarily chilled skin. 

Trying not to think of the possibility of holding a dead body, he wasted no time, wrapping his jacket around you and gently slid your body off the rocks and into his arms and had Wynie guided him with her flashlight to the nearest soft patch of sandy shore.

Laying you down flat, he put his head to your chest and listened, the more silence he heard the more fear threatened to overwhelm him.

"Daddy?" The terror and pain in his daughter's voice paralyzed Eddie as he looked down at the completely still woman beneath him.

This was no sight for her.

"Wynie, go inside, call Aunt Robin, tell her we found someone hurt on the beach, she'll know what to do. Put the puppy upstairs then turn the heat up and light the fireplace, just like I taught you. I'll be right behind you, I promise. Can you do that for me?" He asked, putting his hands on her damp shoulders.

Eowyn nodded deeply, straightening herself up with a fierce look of determination in her face that made her look so much like Chrissy his heart hurt even more.

"I can do it Dad." 

"Good girl! Now, go!" He kissed the top of her head and gently pushed her away.

She took off running towards the cottage and Eddie steeled himself for what was to come next.

He pressed two fingers into your neck waiting for something, anything, beneath his fingers, but the same stillness continued.  Eddie tilted your chin back, pinching your nose and sealed his mouth to your own breathing deeply, feeling your chest rise to meet his hand.

He repeated the action, breathing for you once again, hoping you sit straight up like in a movie and this whole nightmare would be over but no sooner then he had felt your chest rise with his air did it sink in, just as still.

He gently walked his fingers down to the landmark between your breasts and placed one shaking hand over the other, locked his elbows, straightened his arms, silently praying to anyone as he centered his shoulders over his hands and began to press down hard and fast, counting aloud.

"You got yourself on those fucking rocks, you can do this, come on!" He choked out, ignoring the cold that seeped into his tiring arms threatening to numb his hands but he kept going, the rhythmic sound drowning out his own racing heart, blinking back frustrated tears.  Two minutes felt like an eternity as he checked your pulse again with the same result.

He couldn't do this again.

They couldn't be tied to another death, Wynie couldn’t bear it, Eddie wouldn't survive it.

You were running out of time, he was running out of time before his daughter would no doubt come back outside after doing what she was told and be treated to the sight of another corpse.

It was at that moment that Eddie Munson decided he would not let the sea take another person, even a stranger, from him again.

Sweat and rainwater rolled down his back as he began again, each and every compression a middle finger to Death itself because he would not give up, not until you took a breath or someone ripped him off you.

Two cycles later, Death backed the fuck off.

An ungodly gurgling followed by a wretching sound had Eddie's frozen fingers flying to your neck and he let out something between a laugh and scream at the drum of a pulse beneath his fingertips. He cut his celebration short, turning you on your side as you emptied your stomach of seawater and god knows what else. 

"Let it all out, good girl, you're safe now, you did it." He soothed, alternating between patting your back and rubbing circles.  He caught a glimpse of your half opened eyes, wide and brown before they rolled back into your head and you went limp against him, shivering hard with every breath you took.

The light passed across your face and for a second Eddie swore he saw sharp teeth.

"I need every towel and blanket in the house, where's Robin?" Eddie asked, racing into the warm living room of his seaside cottage, his jacket wrapped around you to give you some privacy and preserve any heat he could give you from the journey from the shore to his home.

"Aunt Nancy answered, Mrs. Sinclair went into labor earlier, she's still on the mainland. She said she'd come herself as soon as there was a break in the storm." Wynie explained, zipping around the cottage collecting a pile of blankets and beach towels.

 Eddie set you down on the already blanket lined couch in front of the fire, quickly peeling off his own wet layers to his semi dry t-shirt underneath before  wrapping a towel around and cocooning you both in blankets, gently rubbing the heat back into you.

"You're gonna be okay, we're gonna get you nice and warm and then we'll get you some help." Eddie whispered into your ear as Eowyn gently placed another comforter over the pair of you, eyes glassy with tears.

"She's not moving, is she gonna die like Mom?" She asked quietly. Eddie held out a hand for his daughter to come forward.

"You see her wrist? Put two fingers right there, it's okay you're not gonna hurt her sweetie." Wynie did as she was instructed, touching your wrist so softly as if it was going to break.

"You feel that? That means she's alive and she's alive because you saw her on those rocks before I did. She's going to be fine once she's not so cold and your Aunt can have a look at her. You're a hero Eowyn Munson, and I'm so proud of you sweetheart." Eddie said,mussing her hair before Wyn smiled the first real smile in a very long time and  ran to the kitchen to make tea. Eddie returned to the task of warming you up, cradling you in his arms. 

"Please don't give up the ghost on my couch after I just gave that awesome speech." 

That’s it for now, I hope this is okay :)