#once again. sorry op for hijacking your post

[opalfairy]

Oh, this gave me an idea! What if SQH, as the only writer/artist that actually notices that the characters are kinda sentiant starts... experimenting. First, he starts communicating with SQQ (still in the water prison) through narrator text. And SQQ starts responding, and they talk and become the worsties we see in canon. But narrating does nothing to change what's going on in the story, since only the 4th wall breakers (aka just SQQ) can see/hear him, so he draws himself, full on self-insert character, and realizes this way he can actually interact with the world and the heroes and villains. (And maybe he gets hurt the first time he meets MBJ and offers his help, maybe that injury carries to the real world, but he cannot erase said self insert character because the publishing house saw how well this mega-crossover was doing and how the public where eating up this meta-fuckery up and told him to keep going)

And now I'm imagining how this single cameo triggered a multi-issue crossover event where the reader learns about the fucked up stuff the Palace Master was pulling from behind the scenes, involving LBH, SQQ, the Junior Heroes, MBJ and his new lackey SQH (because of course Mobei's uncle was doing some shady business with the Palace Master), and maybe even the other Peak Lords. Obviously this event has a name with a gold pun in it.

I want to believe that this time the misunderstanding between Binghe and Shen Qingqiu gets solved relatively quickly and they decide to investigate what's going on in Huanhua Palace, since it directly ties to Binghe's origins, and since the readers love their dynamic (and the tonal shift between what's basically a toon and a serious 90's antihero working together [do they have hamnoir vibes?]), they get their very own series as a mistery solving duo!

For Gongyi Xiao, I vote for him to work under the palace master's hero public persona, but also be part of the Junior Heroes, and in one of his fights with SQQ is that the second slipped and mentioned something he wasn't supposed to know. So of course GYX tells the OPM, since even if he looks harmless, SQQ is still technically a villain, and this is why the palace master has SQQ trapped in the water prison. And this plus other stuff makes GYX doubt the OPM so he starts to investigate as well, and recruits the Junior Heros for that (which is how they find out their favorite villain has not shown up in two weeks). Wait actually, another GYX idea 100% compatible with what I just wrote... what if GYX is actually a clone made with the DNA of Su Xiyan and the palace master (a superboy situation kinda)... except nobody but the palace master (and SQQ and SQH) knows!

A fun prospect for Superhero-themed SV AU's that I don't often see is genre dissonance. Like, Luo Binghe as this edgy 90's style antihero who just straight up kills his enemies and sleeps around and is driven by selfish motives (revenge, ambition, etc) rather than altruistic morality, vs Shen Qingqiu as this kid-friendly supervillain who is "evil" mostly in terms of aesthetics and his ability to make inconvenient problems that are reasonably safe for child heroes to solve. Something like Punisher vs Team Rocket in terms of vibes.

Maybe the reason they meet is because some big publishing house akin to Marvel or DC just bought up the rights to whole bunch of older, discontinued comics titles, and decided to do a Justice League/Avengers style mash-up with a bunch of nostalgia properties and their most recognizable heroes and villains. Which means lots of crossovers condensing several titles into a handful of series.

Luo Binghe's origin always features him as a teenager, so he reboots as the youngest Avenger-equivalent team member in the new continuity. Even in this reboot, however, the writers still mostly go the gritty and dark route with his plots and stick to the same key developments -- his abandonment as an infant, his adoptive mother's tragic death, his tough life on the streets, abusive mentors and backstabbing "allies", and so on.

But Luo Binghe's life suddenly starts experiencing periods of dramatic change in his life when he's brought in for appearances in the lighter, friendlier world of the Junior Heroes continuity. After all, he's a natural choice for tying the two continuities together thanks to his youthfulness. Luo Binghe isn't consciously aware of the fact that he's moving between different titles and different writers. All he knows is that sometimes, when he hangs out with the bright and talented Ning Yingying, he's drawn into "conflicts" with Shen Qingqiu -- the kind of "villain" who will call for tea breaks, never actually hits anyone when he shoots his ray gun, leaves clues for all of his crimes, and can't seem to stop from imparting genuinely helpful advice in between his witty quips and taunts.

When Luo Binghe fights Shen Qingqiu, somehow he never actually gets hurt. Neither do any of his friends. The world in general seems brighter and lighter, as if there is some secret barrier protecting everyone from all the evils Binghe knows only too well exist in the rest of his life. Luo Binghe is increasingly convinced that Shen Qingqiu is the source of this mystical safety net. After all, for an allegedly powerful genius who is able to fool half the world about his wicked aims, he's never won a single fight against a kindhearted but somewhat ditzy teenager and her ragtag bunch of friends!

So what's he spending his actual energy on?

Luo Binghe is pretty sure it's keeping the real evils at bay. Making himself the biggest bad in town, and in doing that, making it so that the "biggest bad" is nothing worse than a slightly judgmental teacher in a pretty costume.

It's not long before Luo Binghe doesn't want to go back to the Justice League equivalent, to his world of misery and strife, even after his visits with Ning Yingying are supposed to be over. Especially as the global stakes of various heroic activities start getting higher, and it becomes clear that the boundary between Shen Qingqiu's safe world and the grimdark reality of Binghe's usual life are getting thinner...

[antisoucials]

i'm laughing my ass off at that 'anti-max' post with the visual gap between max and checo. like? excuse me? how is that an anti-max post? lmao, if anything it just emphasizes max's greatness and his inevitability as one of the greatest in the history of the sport. i don't get why these people get so pressed about it only when it comes to max. would they say the same thing had we stayed in the merc domination era? ferrari's? like. sorry but that's how sports -and specially f1- work. anyway, great job by the max nation once again. (reminds me of that one anti-lestappen charles-ships poll where lestappen won by a landslide lol).

i mean i only know that was an anti post bc op posted it to show how max’s domination is making the sport boring for them. but to us that visual is just proof of how exceptional his driving abilities are. i guess they were annoyed we hijacked their post but like this site is free real estate you can’t control who rb your posts. also id like to add that whilst lh cult is always spitting shit @us and @max we mostly stay in our lane. like you don’t see us actively hating on lewis or them. if anything we always direct our hatred @merc. and when it comes to domination eras, some of these people weren’t here for merc’s time and only really started watching in 2021. but like f1blr in 2019 was mostly seb fans hoping for a wdc title with ferrari and everyone here was sick and tired of the merc 1-2 every fucking race. back then you couldn’t find anyone enjoying the sport as it was. so i get how they might find max’s domination boring bc they never experienced anything else and it’s not their driver on that top step race after race. but there’s nothing you can do about it. just as there was nothing we could do about it when lewis was dominating. and to be fair merc dominated for almost a decade so i think they can handle a couple years of max winning bc it’s not guaranteed rbr we’ll be able to keep performing at this level in the next years. just let us enjoy it while it lasts

[z-1-wolfe]

Parhelion Headcanons (sir this is all for you) @greenbeany

Putting 'em under the cut because they got very long O.O

I- the gnome is Neon I take no criticism. They are often good-natured souls with a more mischievous side, and if that doesn’t describe Neon I��m not sure what does. Playful, funny, good intentions, that my good Bean is our lovable cat personified. Okay Parhelion dnd au with gnome Neon please /j.

I AM SMACKING THE GUN OUT OF YOUR HANDS [runs into a glass wall] dammit,, guess I gotta talk now

I- oh no,, time to fail the exam I guess (turns all your head canons upside down)

Okay they do sleep yes they do. Actually that’s a lie only Ciel sleeps, the other two are insomniacs. Ciel has all of her day to day life planned out to the minute, so she heads to bed at a certain time and wakes up at a certain time, the other two are more of a “we’ll sleep when we’re tired” kinda duo. Unfortunately due to Ilia’s night terrors and Neon’s ADHD they almost never rest. No they do not sleep in a SANE bed, ha why would they have a bed? They sleep in a hammock all tangled up with each other. It’s hard to tell what order they sleep in when they kinda curl into each other. They do not use a duvet, why have a duvet when Neon is a space heater? There are no pillows on the hammock X). OKAY THEIR ROOM, THIS I GOT, it’s a funky mess that is somehow organized thanks to Ciel. Ilia doesn’t own a lot in general but it was her life’s dream to paint her bedroom rainbow so guess what they have now. The other two are too soft and they supported her efforts and they love her despite her poor design sense XD.

I- why closet ASDFG I mean— No they do not share a closet they all have completely different fashion sense and if that was all in one place people would be genuinely terrified. But since they’re broke they had to make do with one walk in closet that they partitioned off into sections. YES THEY DO HAVE MATCHING OUTFITS THEY ARE SO CUTE LIKE THAT. They tend to be like those cute couple outfits with a few variations to match their own personal style. But their favorite matching outfit are these duck hoodies they own courtesy of once again Ilia living out her childhood dreams. No they don’t own many outfits because like I mentioned earlier they are broke x). Hmm thinking about each other’s styles… Ilia think both of her girlfriends have great taste, she loves the well, neon of Neon, and the prim and properness of Ciel. Neon just doesn’t care XD. And Ciel is just, she’s just standing there wishing she could help their fashion sense, but she holds back because “It does suit them in an odd way.” Ciel gets the most compliments on her style hands down, she looks organized and you can bet she saves money to buy outfits that actually accentuate her cuteness. They don’t wear makeup no time for that (in which you learn Z has little to no knowledge in how to apply makeup and doesn’t know how to answer that question)

OH OKAY I LOVE VIDDY GAMES. Ciel likes real-time strategy games because she’s insane and that’s literally all she knows in life thanks to being raised in an upper class family in Atlas. Neon likes open world games, something something she likes the chance for adventure and determining one’s fate for themself. Ilia has never once played a video game until after she defected from the White Fang but I can see her playing something light like Stardew Valley, low stakes kinda games. Hmm, they might play Animal Crossing together? Since it has aspects they all enjoy. They each have an individual switch (Ilia has a coral switch lite) and one shared PC. Okay game with most hours, maybe Minecraft? They still haven’t beat the enderdragon because Neon keeps getting distracted XD. Neon is the bomb at party games though, you can bet she has a perfect score on all the songs in Just Dance. Ciel is a sharpshooter, god knows who taught her how to shoot like that. The biggest splatoon fan is unfortunately not Neon it is Ilia, she loves all the colors in the game ^^. But she and Neon have wracked up quite a few hours in co-op.

Uhhh books!! Ilia likes fanfics :) it’s unfortunately one of the only ways for her to see positive representation of herself. Neon for some reason reads Epics?? Like her favorite is the Epic of Gilgamesh what is up with that?? Ciel reads webtoons :), she reads enough serious stuff for school work and such, she likes to just kick back and relax after all that. Yes they have schedules reading time courtesy of Ciel :). Uhh, they relax by baking together. None of them had many chances to indulge in sweets while growing up so they make full use of their time now. ?? SPOON?? Cuddle hours happen on a whim, the one thing that Ciel can never schedule because she never knows when it’ll occur. They relax the most in the kitchen x) because that’s where they bake, it’s not unusual to find Neon asleep on the counter while she waits for their sweets to rise. They read in the light, Neon is afraid that by reading in the dark that they’ll all ruin their eyesight. Ciel likes the sunrise because she’s up the earliest and is the only one to see it, the other two prefer sunset because that’s usually when their day is about to begin XD.

Favorite spot for dates! The park ^^, they like to go on picnic dates with all their baked goods. There is no plan, usually one of them will randomly pull the other two out of the house because they haven’t touched grass in a while XD. There are no ideas, they share one braincell and they spend too much time doting on each other to use it. Uhm favorite movie genre,,, they like comedy movies :). Their favorite place to eat is this tiny store on the corner of their street that makes mean gyros, they heccin’ love them. Coping with horror, Ilia is desensitized to horror because of the things she’s seen in life, Neon treats it like a game because she knows it’s not real, Ciel, is okay with it, but she gets shook more easily than the other two and they often have to reassure her. No they do not like theme parks, there are too many people around for Ilia and Ciel and Neon respects their boundaries so they tend to go to more quiet places. Uhm heights, Ciel is used to heights because she’s friends with Penny and woah can that girl toss her in the air like she’s a couple of grapes. Ilia doesn’t mind heights but she would prefer to have her feet on the ground. Neon loves the ground so damn much if it leaves her she will cry because man she can’t roller-skate in the air can she, what will she do if the ground is suddenly gone? They like evening dates because it’s normally the only time all three of them are awake enough for it XD. They end a night by sleeping I am not quite sure if there are other ways to end it lmao. They absolutely despise Neon’s roller skating dates but they love how excited she gets about them so they end up becoming as good as professional roller skaters because the smile on Neon’s face when they join her is dazzling.

I am slowly going insane. Yes each girl has a hobby I sure hope they do. Ilia knits, Ciel paints, and Neon writes. I would like to imagine that Ciel would try to schedule time for their hobbies she ends up giving up because all their sleep schedules are wack. Designated chef is Neon (probably made food for FNKI back in atlas), designated driver is Ilia (I mean I like to imagine she stole cars and stuff in the White Fang XD), designated decorator for stuff is normally Ciel though Neon does try to hijack a few of her plans occasionally, designated shopper is Ciel because the other two have no concept of Saving money, and they all work together to clean :). They don’t work together, they believe in keeping their work life and home life separate to prevent their feelings from getting in the way. They do not have pets, none of them have the energy or responsibility to do that, but Ilia did once bring a moose home one day for some reason.

I am nomming on your arm sir. Ilia and Neon get along with Penny surprisingly well, though I do think Ilia would get along with Weiss better? Ruby and Weiss look at Ciel and see a beacon arc Weiss and more or less adopt her despite Ciel being older than the two of them. They might like.. play board games together? Like some of those more team based board games I can’t think of anything off the top of my head, may the best polycule win. I cannot see them in a cuddle puddle to be honest ajcnjsanjs I am so sorry— hmm Ruby and Neon do not know the meaning of formal, as far as they are concerned these are their girlfriend’s friends and that means that by extension these are their friends. Weiss would like nothing to do with Neon after Neon insults Yang during the Vytal festival but she begrudgingly goes on outings with her and hey, now they’re make up buddies for some reason. The parhelion gals take the fs gals to the gyro place they like :). Parhelion gang Is a lot more vocal on their dates because their love language happens to be words of affirmation while the fs gang’s happen to be physical touch. Both polycules are very very affectionate though I will die on this hill.

DARN IT TUMBLR ONLY LETS ME HAVE 10 IMAGES PER POST THIS IS FINE IT WAS JUST ONE MORE PROMPT DARN IT

(Parhelion angst! How do Neon and Ciel react to the news about the dust mine? How do they find out about Ilia getting expelled? Do they find out about the white fang? Is there any faunus stigma afterwards? How does Ciel react to people bullying her Faunus GFS? Does Neon talk to Ciel much after? Do they ever reunite? Does Neon attempt to help Ciel while she grieves Penny? Where the fuck is Ciel now? Is Neon still alive? Does Ilia ever think about them? Does Blake know about them from Ilia?)

BUDDY I CAME TO THE LAST ASK AND NOW ONLY DID I REALIZE YOU MEANT PARHELION BACK WHEN THEY WHERE IN BEACON THIS WHOLE TIME I’M CRYING. (This ask is answered under the assumption that they are already dating back in Atlas Academy) Ciel is fiercely protective of her girlfriends, though people only know that Neon is a Faunus because Ilia masks her traits during her time at the academy. Neon and Ciel are horrified about the news about the dust mines. They know that Ilia is a Faunus and that her parents were working there so they rush to see her as soon as possible. But they’re too late,,, Ilia’s already been expelled for attacking her fellow students. They don’t hear from Ilia for a few years after that and the two slowly drift apart, each blaming the other for not getting to Ilia soon enough. They don’t find out about the White Fang until they reunite with Ilia unfortunately, but they feel sad that Ilia had felt that they only way for her to get revenge for her parents was by joining a militant group (I’m working under the assumption that Sienna only took control of the White Fang shortly before Ilia joined). When Neon learns that Penny didn’t make it after the Fall of Beacon she hesitantly reaches out to Ciel for the first time in a year, and she does try to help. But for Ciel it’s blow after heccin’ blow and she pushes Neon away in a rage. Ciel leaves the Academy after that and goes rogue, working as a huntsman without a license for the poorer parts of remnant. Ilia is unaware of all this drama during the Beacon arc. The next time she hears of any news is during the Fall of Atlas, and she’s scared, scared because she’s still recovering and she just heard Ruby announce to the world that Remnant is under attack, and oh my gosh her ex girlfriends live in Atlas. Neon makes it out alive, though not entirely in one piece, she now has a prosthetic leg. Ilia is the first person to see her, it’s a tearful reunion and they haven’t fully made up yet, but hey it’s a work in progress, now they just have to find out where Ciel is, but when they do they’ll BOTH be there to greet her. Blake has no idea who the fuck Ciel and Neon are lmao, Ilia never told her anything about her past romances when she was in the White Fang.

Oh gosh I think that's it-- And that is it thank you for listening to me ramble about Parhelion you get a juice box for making it this far. Sir I am sincerely sorry for turning your ship upside down please forgive me.

[insaneonmain]

that's what I've been saying Hans was so so lonely before he met Henry and I might cry when I think about it too much😭😭😭 also he probably just told those 'drinking buddies' of his he'd buy them their drinks and that's why they drank with him... also the first time I heard Hans go "omg!!! Henry's here:))" I had to pause the game because he sounds so happy??? Like maybe Henry came to hang out with him? Henry is here, did you guys see? What a coincidence he was just thinking of him!! He doesn't look terribly busy, perchance he wants to duel with him? Or go on a hunt? Or no! Even better - they should go to the baths again, together, last time was - oh. He left. But he'll come back, right?

... right?

my poor heart

I love when I approach Hans at the tavern and he just absolutely lights up and goes "Henry's come to see us! :)" Like first of all who tf is he talking to? The innkeeper? It's 10am, sure, but I swear he's always by himself. I'm convinced he was paying those guys to drink with him that one time. Babygirl is SO lonely. The game world does not revolve around Henry but Hans' world might actually.

[deathonyourtongue]

Resurrection | 12

Summary: A ragtag team of Spec-Ops operators are brought out of retirement for all the wrong reasons. When the dust settles, only the best will be left standing. Pairing: Pablo Schreiber x OFC, Henry Cavill x OFC (listen, she gets with the whole team, okay? Don’t lie, you would too.) Word Count: 2K Warnings: Nothing much really. A/N: Sorry this took so long. February really is the worst month.

By the flight manifest, we’re half an hour behind Wallace, and I feel every minute of it on the plane ride from London to Benghazi. Prior to joining the team, I’d only been assigned to Libya once and it was from the comfort of the Whitney parked off the coast of Italy. This will be my first time with boots on the ground, and the history of spec ops in the country isn’t lost to me; it’s just one more reason why I’m glad I no longer have to wear a uniform.

“Ten minutes out,” the pilot calls over the comms, everyone prepping their go bags, ready to make up for any head start Wallace has. 

Benina International Airport barely registers in my mind as we pick up two vehicles that were prepped for us courtesy of Uncle Sam, my mind’s sole focus being on saving the hostage and capturing Wallace. All of us want our pound of flesh, none more so than those he’s directly injured over the course of the last few weeks. 

“I need everyone on their A game. We can’t afford to let him slip through our fingers again. His behavior is escalating and since he’s so well-connected to the who’s-who, it stands to reason, he’s going to throw everything he has at us. Above all else though, we leave no one behind. Understood?” Rick’s voice is firm but warm over our comms, making it clear that despite the gravity of the situation, he cares about our well-being first and foremost. 

“Do you think he’s trying to do a shot-for-shot remake?” Jake asks as we roll into Benghazi proper, grateful for the tinted windows on the late model G wagons no doubt left over from Gaddafi’s rule. 

“If you mean do I think he’s going to go to the same village we were patrolling? No. I don’t think he’s that sentimental about things. I think he’s going to pick a spot that’s overlooked by the country and blow it to high hell after he finishes reenacting his sick fantasies. Remember, had we not stopped him that night--”

“I know, he’d have committed war crimes,” Jake cuts Dom off, his sickened expression making it clear that he doesn’t need to be reminded. 

“Has intel found him yet?” I ask, hoping we don’t have to waste any more time in tracking him down. 

“They don’t have a lock yet, but they are tracking a BMW that came out of Benina half an hour ago. Reports of a blond woman without a hijab and a red-haired man poured in the second they landed.” Rick explains, all of us shaking our head. 

“Muslim majority country and she already sticks out like a sore thumb by being blond, but he didn’t bother to make her wear a hijab? If we don’t get to him, the Libyan police will,” I snort, finding little humor in the recklessness with which Wallace treats the lives of others. Like any good narcissist, he cares only for himself and if others get hurt in the process of him getting what he wants, so be it. 

“They’re going to attract attention no matter what. All of us are. Keep as low a profile as possible, and with any luck, we’ll be out of here by this time tomorrow,” Rick adds, all of us hoping for the outcome that’s eluded us since we reunited. 

Our hideout in Benghazi is simple, yet beautiful. Like most places, it’s heavily fortified, a solid metal gate closing behind us and men standing watch on all four corners as we make our way towards something that resembles a Roman villa of old. Outside, the heat hits me and for a second, I’m brought back to the op that nearly took my life, hoping that this time, things will end differently, at least for our team. Max’s cologne brings me back to the present, and I fall in step with him as we make our way into the blissfully cool war room. 

“Oh fuck yeah. Don’t mind if I do!” Jake enthuses as he takes note of the tea and finger foods laid out on the table. Shaking my head, but nonetheless pleased, I take a seat and let out a breath I don’t realize I’ve been holding. Max’s hand smooths over my hair as he sits next to me, his gaze still eyeing my bruise with concern. It’s endearing to say the least, and not the kind of treatment I’m used to in any part of my life. 

“Okay, fuel up, but pay attention. Intel has an eye in the sky and they’ve found the BMW. We’re tracking him now. Gonna let him get settled in, then we’ll pay him a house call. He’s also traveling light; only two body men and paid local team which means--”

“Which means a bunch of teenage human shields. Fucking great,” I mutter.

Stephanie Pierce had been dumped half an hour before getting to the airport. Doing her best to save face, she’d made it through security and was intent on getting a little drunk before boarding, if only so she could sleep on the flight. American by birth, she had come to London for school, and had, up until the breakup, been having the time of her life. 

Now it's all spiraling into a nightmare. 

“Please, just let me get back to the airport! I don’t have anything to do with this! I didn’t do anything! I’m just a student! Please!” 

“I can’t do that, darling. For one, you’ve seen my face, and two...Well, you’re my insurance policy. You see, the people that I’m after, they have a soft spot for those they consider innocent. Problem is, no one’s ever truly innocent, are they? No, not even you, dear Stephanie. It only took a few moments for me to do the numbers, so to speak. Young, parents are middle class at best, no real money for school, especially abroad, but here you are in designer clothing, taking vacations whenever it strikes your fancy, and not a dime in debt. Do your parents know what you do on the internet, my darling? Didn’t think so. No, that deep, dark secret won’t be revealed until after you perish, which...will be soon, I’m afraid.” 

Her screams make her captor laugh, almost as though he’s delighted by the reaction. It chills her to the bone. Now she understands that this isn’t some wannabe who hijacked a plane and has no real plan; far from it. Whoever he is, he has calculated each and every move leading up to this point. 

She wishes she could talk to her mom one last time. 

“Night Train to Alpha, confirm visual.” 

“Alpha to Night Train we have visual. We count 12 signatures, including the hostage. You are a go.”

We’re no stranger to David and Goliath fights, and 12 is on the smaller side of some of the groups we’ve taken on, but no matter the number, we approach this one with extra precaution, only because of Wallace’s M.O. None of us are looking to be anywhere near another one of his bombs. 

The compound he’s made his hideout is run of the mill for this part of the world. Like our own, Wallace’s has high walls, a sturdy gate, and a simple floor plan. It leaves us with two options; come in with a bang, or creep in with a whisper. 

“There’s two gates,” I remind the boys, knowing full well that while they all prefer coming in with as much firepower as possible, it opens the door for Wallace to get away in the commotion, and I, for one, want to end this once and for all. 

“Alpha, how many signatures on the exterior?” Dom asks, all of us hidden in the shadows, waiting for the deciding factor on how we proceed.

“Looks like 2 on the south side, patrolling the far gate. If you’re going in quiet, now’s the time to move.” 

We all nod and immediately get to work. Strapping on my gloves, I grab my wire cutters out of the pocket on my kevlar, and wait until Flip has gotten into position. The tallest of the team, he bends over, providing me with the flat of his back to stand on so that I can cut the razor wire off the top of the wall. Carefully, I peek over the edge, relieved when I find the courtyard empty. Though there are lights on in the compound, every window is covered with an opaque blind, making this way of entering far better suited to our needs. 

I cut enough wire away to allow all the boys to climb over, making sure to throw it away from the compound not only for safety, but to reduce the chances of us being heard. Satisfied that everyone has clearance, I pocket my multitool and quickly hop over, landing softly in the dirt. 

Rick and Benji are quick to follow, the three of us taking up post so that the rest of the guys can come in safely. It takes less than five minutes for all of us to breach the perimeter, and after a moment to regroup, we move towards our target. 

“Alpha, we need your eyes,” Rick whispers, taking point as we position ourselves flush against the nearest wall of the compound. We could clear the place blind, but that increases the chance that someone will sound the alarm as they die, and we can’t take the risk. Though they said they had to wash their hands of it, after Rome, the DOD extended their resources; while they can’t send those currently serving, they can provide a helping hand to those who are willing to risk it all to capture one of our own.

“Two at 3 o’clock, in the first room. There’s two at the back gate you’ll want to handle first.” 

Nodding at one another, we split up. Rick and Dom position themselves at the first room, Flip and Benji take up post across the villa in front of another room, while Max, Jake and I edge around to the back of the compound, intent on taking out the two men guarding the rear gate as silently as possible.

With Jake on one side, Max and I move around to the other side, all of us needing to get eyes on the men. As I predicted, they’re young, but I find cold solace when I see that they’re not teenagers, bought out to act as human shields. Checking my gun, I make sure the silencer is on tightly before leveling it into place to look through my scope. At less than 50 feet, it’s an easy shot; it just has to be timed correctly. Max counts us down using only his fingers, and when the time is right, both Jake and I take double-tap shots, killing the men before they have a chance to make a sound.

Over comms, I can hear Rick and Dom breaching their first room, and as we move back towards the center of the villa, Benji and Flip do the same. My relief grows with every room that’s cleared, the body count growing as we approach the spot where Wallace is holed up with the hostage. 

“Last room has the prize. Good luck, and godspeed.”

The room in question lies at the heart of the villa. Protected on either side by anti-rooms, We have to work our way through two more sets of men before finally being able to come face-to-face with Wallace once again. 

A bright smile is the last thing we expect when we finally level our guns to his head. 

“Nice of you all to finally join me. Thought it would take much less time for Uncle Sam to track me down. No matter, you’re here now, we can get to it. In your haste, I’m afraid none of you noticed...” Wallace’s gaze goes to the floor, and as my own eyes follow, I can’t help but feel my heart sink. My eyes dart quickly to Max and Dom, nausea overcoming me as I find that every single one of us has stepped on a trip wire. 

“It’s like Russian Roulette, except I’m the one holding the gun.”

Wallace’s laugh will be imprinted in my mind for the rest of my life.

[zagorodnik]

how to (semi-reliably) find the lyrics to a song if you can’t find them online

hi! earlier i saw this post which i wholeheartedly agree with, but i personally end up running into a dead end with just googling a song’s lyrics, as the songs i listen to are either too old, obscure, or otherwise underground to be so readily available. i didn’t want to hijack their post, so here’s a (hopefully) quickish and concise guide on how to find lyrics (and translation) to a song if the comment section and google are no help!

because of the length of this post, i’ll be putting it under a cut - but here is what you can expect:

asking yourself (if you want to/applicable)

submitting a transcription request to lyricstranslate

submitting a translation request to lyricstranslate

asking a native speaker directly (if applicable)

i hope this proves helpful to you in some way, even if you just see these four points and decide to go ahead and do the thing. but here is the rest of the post!

1) asking yourself (if you want to!)

the first thing you can do is ask yourself like this person did.

lucky for them, this yielded a result, and the lyrics (both original and translated) are in the replies! (here is the song, if anyone is interested)

this isn’t entirely reliable for some songs, as the comment sections may be so barren that you might not get a reply for a long time (or ever). but it is an option - especially if the comment section does seem a bit more ‘lively’ than not.

2) submitting a transcription request to lyricstranslate

personally, lyricstranslate has been a godsend for a few songs that i like. chances are you’ve run into the site while searching for the lyrics to a song, but sometimes songs won’t even be there. for people who are less familiar (or not familiar) with the site’s interface, i’ll walk you through how to submit a transcription request by submitting one that i’ve been forgetting to for a while now.

on the top of the main page, you’ll encounter this section of buttons.

for the purpose of transcription, you’ll want to click ‘Transcribe’, and it’ll take you to this page:

you might see a bunch of requests in here, but for the purpose of finding lyrics, you’ll want to press ‘Request a transcription’. From there, you’re taken to the request page, which has a bunch of fields for video, artist, song title, language, etc. this part explains itself on the page fairly well, i think, but here is an example you can follow if you’re still unsure:

when you press submit, it’ll take you to your request’s page, but you’ve done all you can do. some languages may take longer (and by longer, i mean like. a really long time) to be transcribed, as there aren’t many (active) users who speak or have studied those languages well enough to transcribe the song. for the purpose of OP’s post (which talks about japanese songs specifically), this should be fine, but for more ‘uncommon’ languages (like kyrgyz in the submission) are less likely to be transcribed so fast. this does bring me to another thing, though:

3) submitting a translation request to lyricstranslate

when the song is transcribed (and you have an account), you’ll get a notification and a link to the lyrics. great! you can pop it into google translate to get a general meaning (since it’s still not the best translator), but you can also get a more human translation at lyricstranslate. this process is much simpler than the transcription request.

at the very bottom of a song, you’ll find these two buttons before the comment section:

what you want to do is click ‘Add new request’, and it’ll take you to the request page. you simply just select the language you want, and click ‘Submit request’ at the bottom of the page.

once you’ve done that, it takes you to your request’s page, but again, it’s all you can do. like transcription, it may take a while for someone to come around and translate it, especially with more ‘uncommon’ languages. i’ll probably be waiting on that kyrgyz transcription for a while, but i’ve been waiting for a translation of a tajik song for about four months.

4) asking a native speaker directly (if applicable)

if you have friends who speak that language, you can politely ask them to transcribe/translate a song for you. though keep in mind they don’t have to - if they do that’s very kind of them to take the time out of their day to do that for you! and be sure to thank them, too.

if i recall correctly, there are also places where you can commission someone to translate stuff like this for you (which makes sense, sorry if i’m presenting it as some foreign topic). so if none of the other options for translation work and you want something more than a google translation, this is probably your best bet! though again, you might not be able to find a translator for the language you’re looking for into one you understand.

in conclusion

if somehow, none of these options work, then you might be out of luck for the time being. of course, you can enjoy songs you don’t understand, but please don’t use the song as some kind of aesthetic if you have no grasp or an uncertain grasp on its meaning. 

either it can be that the meaning is a lot darker than you interpreted it from the sounds, or it could be a song with actual bigotry in it (i’ve certainly run into a few songs like that - even ones that, in my native language, have gone under my nose since i didn’t completely understand what it was trying to say).

but again, i hope this post was helpful to you in some way, and i wish you luck on your lyric-finding endeavours!

[smores100]

i don't believe anything hamas has to say. about anything. they're sadistic manipulative liars and have been proven to be ones again and again. they're the ones giving out numbers of casualties and injured people. they've already been caught including certain names more than once; they've also been caught including names of people who had died long before the attacks ever happened

it's amazing how 5 mins after an attack they know to announce 1000 people dead (they count so fast!), whereas 2 months later and israel is still making adjustments to the numbers and finding and identifying bodies from the october 7 massacre....(side note: by archaeologists. they use archaeologists. try and think why an archaeologist is needed to find proof of someone being dead rather than missing/kidnapped. let that sink in...)

interesting how when the idf was accused of bombing a hospital there were 500 dead, but when it was proven to be a failed rocket launch by islamic jihad there were only 20-50 people killed…math is fun!

and yet the world keeps hanging on to every word by 'the most credible not terrorist organization in the world'… (if you don't get the reference go watch eretz nehederet's parody of the bbc…they did a couple and it's so accurate it hurts)

also as mentioned here hamas doesn't differentiate between 'innocent civilians' and their own terrorists. they /are/ freedom fighters after all to them eeeeeveryone is innocent! but you can be sure at least half - if not more - of the real number of casualties are terrorists (there's a reason i used quotation marks but that's a whole other story...) and yes there IS a difference b/w collateral damage bc that's what happens in war specifically when the enemy hides like cowards amongst civilians, and PURPOSELY and DELIBERATELY invading cities and torturing and executing every civilian in sight if you can't see the difference then sorry i can't help you 🤷‍

also SECONDED on that whole genocide bs…sometimes people die at war??? it's not all genocide??? why aren't you crying about hamas' continued attempt at genocide? they literally have KILL ALL JEWS written in their charter! they massacred 1400 people (the majority being jews) on october 7! what do you think they're trying to do when they launch 10000 rockets at populated civilian areas??? the only reason there aren't thousands of dead israelis is bc israel gaf about their people and spent millions of dollars on shelters and the iron dome for protection. hamas could've done the same. instead they stole the people's money and used it to build underground tunnels to hide in and rockets. (in their defence they also used it for charity…how else would haniyeh have been able to survive in qatar w/o his 4 billion dollars???) your liberal misuse of the term dilutes its meaning and is an insult to real genocides happening across the world. ffs assad murdered more than half a million of his own people and the UN still sucks his dick and the world is silent....(i get it; actual war crimes and genocides and ethnic cleansings aren't interesting when the jews aren't involved…)

last but not least since this all started due to the cancellation of noah…FUCK YOU fuck you for trying to cancel a JEWISH boy for being PROUD of his IDENTITY and wanting HIS PEOPLE to be SAFE guess what? zionism IS sexy *le gasp* all of you using zionism as if it's a bad word a curse word using it to hide your antisemitism....zionism (nowadays) simply means you believe israel has a right to exist (as a safe haven for all jews) and the jewish people's right for self determination. it means NOTHING regarding the palestinians and any rights they should or shouldn't have. you can be a zionist and still support a two state solution! these things aren't mutually exclusive! the way certain people have twisted its meaning to make the world believe all jews and israelis are evil monsters who want all palestinians dead and the entire land to themselves is disgusting the backlash and sheer hate and the cancellation of a 19 year old jewish boy over it is no less disgusting but you know what? thanks for proving EXACTLY why zionism is still important and why israel MUST keep existing 👍

This was a reply to someone else, but I'm making this its own post because so many people are being so evil right now re: Noah Schnapp.

You can find other, longer explanations with history and all, but all the places I've seen more or less agree with this:

So you're all calling people to cancel Noah because he's in favor of a Jewish nation in what is today Israel. Which is a perfectly reasonable, decent and educated opinion to have, especially when you, to use a trendy term, "educate yourself" and find out why the state of Israel was created.

11000 dead Palestinians, half of them children

According to Hamas. Don't forget that, ever. They're the current, official government of Gaza, thus they're the ones who give numbers. This means that the real number could be 10, 1 million, anything in between. What I've read is that they probably give more of less accurate total numbers. What they fail to do, however, is distinguish between Hamas militants and civilians, and beteween civilians killed by IDF strikes, civilians killed by failed Hamas or Palestininan Islamic Jihad's rockets (which happens a lot), and Palestinians murdered by Hamas/PIJ (which also happens, a whole damn lot). They also don't specify how many civilians they have prevented or tried to prevent from evacuating or receiving aid.

11k dead people is a horrible number. Even 1 dead person is a horrible number. However, urban warfare in such a densely populated area is its own kind of hell, especially when the other side is fond of using civilians as human shields in every way possible. The fact that the number is 11k and not 50k, 100k, and so on, indicates that the IDF have indeed done a lot to minimize deaths. You don't genocide people by doing roof knocks, opening evacuation lines, dropping guided bombs, putting up an Iron Dome to deal with rockets while avoiding escalation, etc. simply because actual genocide, while a lot worse, is also cheaper, easier and faster than what they're doing. This is important because caling every act of war genocide dilutes the word, and there are actual genocides happening around the world. Also, there is a difference between striking military targets and causing civilian deaths as a side effect (what the IDF is doing) and planning and carrying out a massacre deliberately targeting civilians and inflicting as much pain and humilliation as possible on them. And there is a difference between doing so by breaking a ceasefire (which is what Hamas did), and defending your country because if you don't do that a terrorist group will anhilate you (which is what the IDF is doing).

Back to Noah. So far, these are the things that people have tried to cancel him for:

Traveling to Israel (a completely normal thing)

Having Israeli friends (another completely normal thing)

Condemning Hamas' horrible attack on October 7th (the decent thing to do)

Posting a statement saying he feels unsafe as a Jewish person in the US (which, given the rise of antisemitic acts in the world, including the US, including where he lives and where he studies, is a valid feeling to have)

Signing a letter, along with Shawn Levy, Brett Gelman, Ross Duffer and I think Cara Buono, asking Biden to press for the liberation of every hostage by Hamas. This especially shows the utter ignorance of the cancellers because, as it turns out, caring about every hostage implies a slowdown of IDF's actions (and, at the time, a delay of a ground invasion).

Supporting the existence and preservation of the state of Israel (once again, a completely normal thing). The fact that people are turning against him for these things says to me that the real reason you are all hating Noah is beacuse:

He's Jewish. Like, really really Jewish.

And the fact that this all comes from a place of antisemitism isn't hidden at all: I've seen y'all on here, on Twitter, Reddit, every other social media calling him slurs (such as "cunt"), censoring his name, pretending he's not part of the cast, asking the Duffers/Netflix to fire him, wishing him failure, doxxing him, calling on his classmates to physically assault him, etc. He doesn't need to educate himself: you guys are already teaching him a great lesson on why a Jewish state is necessary. If that's the treament he gets from his own "fans", what can he expect from the world at large?

[awkwardbsd]

dazai pls? :)

No problem! I am always happy to receive asks. This one was a little delayed because I napped during the middle of asking it. This is gonna get a little bit long (the other ones were long, but I never put a line whoops). This one gets into both anime (Dead Apple and otherwise) and manga spoiler territory. You have been warned! 

First impression

I’ll be honest, I almost dropped this series a few times because of Dazai. I found the way that they introduced him was very… nonsensical and almost insensitive. It was definitely not what we would qualify as “politically correct” by today’s standards, and his appearance certainly was off-putting as well with the bandages flapping in the wind. He came off as a good-for-nothing scoundrel who was a little distasteful.

Current Impression

Well, he’s certainly changed! He went from being an irresponsible reckless fool to an irresponsible reckless fool with impeccable (and overpowered) intelligence and a purpose! 

Favourite moment

Odasaku’s death scene and really any moments with Odasaku (pre and post-death). I know that those scenes were much more of a highlight for Odasaku, but it was also a pivotal moment for Dazai’s character. 

Idea for a story

I was just talking about this idea today! It was in response to my BSD Questionnaire (which I’m having a lot of fun reading the answers for)

@dreaming-of-butterflies​ actually brought it up again (hehe)

I’m about to go on a bit of a tangent. Forgive my awful writing. The last fanfiction I wrote was for Peppa Pig meeting Dazai. I wish I was kidding, but yeah, my last fanfic was Peppa Pig facing off against Dazai.

It was early on a Saturday afternoon with the exhausted sun shining over Yokohama just before the curtain call which would call it a day. The Detective Agency was slow but still running when a man knocked on the door. He opened it apprehensively.

“Is there anything we can help you with, sir?” Atsushi asked.

The man stumbled back slightly. His voice croaked and trembled, “My name is Eliot… Thomas Stearns Eliot.” He glanced over at Atsushi as if there was something right next to him.

“Is something wrong?” Atsushi asked. He looked over to his side. There was no one there.

“It’s just that…” he slowly pointed, “there is a man there.”

“Pardon–”

“He is there. He is a tall stern man in a white coat. He keeps mouthing over and over again, ‘You cannot forgive me.’”

Atsushi staggered and lost his balance. His hands were trembling. Why? What was this man saying? The man from the orphanage, the headmaster, was there? He was dead! He was ecstatic about it. Words couldn’t form from his mouth.

“Atsushi? What’s wrong?” Tanizaki asked. 

“I knew he was dead. He’s dead.” Atsushi mumbled under his breath.

The man was frazzled, “My ability… it’s called Until Human Voices Wake Us. It requires me to pass on messages from people who are dead. I must say these things or else something within me will vanish. If I ignore a spirit’s request to make contact, I lose a memory from my past. I want to know how to remove it! That’s why I came here! I want this ability gone! It has ruined too many people. I can’t take it anymore.”

“You!” he pointed to Kyouka who was on the opposite side of the room. “You have two people standing by your side. They look just like you.” He paused, “Your parents… they truly loved you. They are so happy for you. They say they are sorry for not being able to stay by your side. They wanted to protect you… they really wanted to protect you.” The man was now crying a little. “They said that they love you more than anything in the world and that they wish that they could’ve done something different than to spare you the pain of witnessing their deaths. ‘Please forgive us Kyouka. We promise to never leave your side. We will always love you.’”

Dazai walked into the room. The man flinched. The man opened his mouth, “There is a man with reddish brown hair next to you.” Dazai’s eyes opened wide. He had eavesdropped on the conversation, but he didn’t know that Odasaku would be at his side, not at a time like this.

“The man standing next to you… he has five kids, four boys and a girl. He’s smiling. He’s saying, ‘I’m proud of you.’” He was about to say more when Dazai placed his hand on the man’s shoulder nullifying his ability. Dazai looked like he had tears in his eye but not a single one was shed.

Unpopular opinion

I wish Ranpo got more of a spotlight than Dazai for his intelligence and capabilities. Ranpo is the smartest, but they always rely on Dazai to compete and solve all these problems. He’s always the one facing off with Fyodor and giving the exposition on “how we solved this”. I want to see Ranpo doing it because we don’t always get enough of it, and Ranpo is more than an ongoing side plot that plays into the main story. We need our crime-solving sleuth back! Dazai can be smart and he can solve things, but let’s not lose focus on the true #1 detective!

Favourite relationship

I can go on about Dazai and Atsushi, but I think that ones really clear on why their dynamic is so great. This time, I’m going to focus on the Dark Era Trio and Odazai!

I’m going to be copying and pasting a lot of my previous post’s points. [Source] (also, sorry for OP because looking back on it, I completely hijacked their post and I’m really sorry for that)

Dazai still lives in the same body and soul that he did when he was in the Mafia. Despite moving from the Port Mafia to the ADA, he couldn’t pull the complete 180 on himself. He still lives in a shadow of his previous actions, and that’s why he truly doesn’t believe he’s a good person.

Odasaku saw that good in Dazai even during his darkest moments. If he didn’t believe in Dazai, he wouldn’t have told him to be on the side that saves people. Odasaku saw Dazai beyond his depression, suicidal urges, and the suffering he’s been through. He trusted him to carry on the legacy he left behind.

Dazai still can’t completely get over the death of his best friend. Look at the first set of screenshots.

Dazai: “Does it look like I’m visiting a grave to you?”Atsushi: “It does. [Why?]”

That look on his face is shock. He is still shaken. He still hangs and loiters by Odasaku’s grave as if he’s still alive. It’s not like he’s expecting him to get up, but he acts like he’s still existing.

Dazai, to me, is one of those people that would buy a crab and a plate of curry. He would place the curry on the gravestone of Odasaku. He eats some of the crab he brought for himself. He brings some alcohol. He talks to him all night and says all that has happened. He talks about the agency, Atsushi, Kunikida, and he talks about how he misses the trio. He admits he didn’t know what Ango has been up to.

Just look at this Wan! cover

Ango himself isn’t over the death either. Ango is the one who covered for the both of them so that Dazai would be able to leave the Mafia.

“I made use of it only once. Four years ago… so that Dazai-kun could live outside the Mafia. I erased his past sins.”“Why did you get your hands dirty only once?”“For a friend who is no longer here. To repent, at least minimally, for my sins to him.”

[Quote Source]

That’s why they’re my favourites!

Favourite headcanon

As previously mentioned, Dazai sits by Oda’s grave and has a meal.

Another mini-excursion because I feel like it. Again, forgive my awful writing because I really can’t write (probably because I don’t read).

“Yo Odasaku!” Dazai leaned against the grave of Sakunosuke Oda. He placed a plate of curry on the opposite side of the grave. Dazai tore open the shell of a crab and began eating it. Two glasses of alcohol were placed.

“Be on the side that saves people,” Dazai mumbled. “You know, the Detective Agency is a lot better than the Mafia! There are all kinds of fun people, and best of all, I don’t have to deal with that asshat Chuuya! You know, I got to blow up his car before I left. Thank goodness for Ango.” He paused and took a bite and a swig. “Speaking of Ango, I still really miss us. Lupin just isn’t the same without you. I haven’t talked to Ango in ages either… the guy works for the government now too.” He sighed then smiled, “But yeah, the Detective Agency is great! Chuuya isn’t there, Ranpo is the world’s greatest detective, I get to mess with Kunikida, Shachou is so cool, Yosano used to be in the Mafia but managed to escape, and Atsushi… you would love Atsushi! He’s so naive and difficult, he cries so often, but his heart… it reminds me of yours.”

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth Pt. 5

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request: What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Physical violence, (non-major) character death, blood

A/N: First fic of 2019!!! WOO! And it’s a fucking doozy... I’ve never written a battle like this before so it was certainly an adventure. I hope it reads well. 

This damn fucking story. How did I get here?! I feel like I’ve been hijacked and held for ransom. But... I like it...? I’m also enjoying really working some of the other Avengers into this. 

Anyway I hope you’re enjoying the ride this enemies to lovers thing is taking us all on!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @peachthatdrinkslemonade @breezy1415  @wonderlandmind4 @handplucked @piensa-bonito @midnightdream83  @buckysstar

Four days later Tony’s voice pipes up while you’re making your first cup of coffee.

“Hey Sparky,” his somewhat endearing nickname for you, “we got a job to do. Meet in the briefing room in an hour.”

“You got it, boss.”

Perfect. A mission was exactly what you needed to get your mind off of everything. Sure he’d be there but your focus would be on the task at hand not what happened between you. Plus it would feel good to fuck some Hydra agents up.

Sam barrels into you on your way to the briefing room, “Where the hell you been, girl?”

You shrug, “Around.”

He huffs, “We need to work on that move soon. Stark thinks he’s got the wings just right so they can deflect your energy and not freak out.”

“Oh, nice! So you can be my own personal jetpack!”

“I was thinking you’d be my laser gun, but to each their own.”

“I should really get my finger gun skills up to par then.” You hold your hands up in the quintessential finger gun style and make points of light glow at the tips of your middle and index fingers.

“If you could get on that immediately it would be great,” Sam laughs, “and be sure to make the ‘pew pew’ noise as you shoot those assholes down.” Continuing down the hall you both proceed to make shooting noises at the other laughing at your ridiculousness.

Before getting to the door you pause and enact a dramatic battle ending. Someone sighs audibly behind you. Bucky, er Barnes, whatever, stands, hands shoved in his pockets looking truly put upon by your display.

“Man, how is it you can ruin a good time without saying a damn word?” Sam grumbles at him.

“It’s a gift,” Bucky responds dryly.

You put a hand on Sam’s arm, “Come on, we’ll finish our battle when the geriatric isn’t around.” Casting Bucky a sidelong glance you head inside and take your usual spot.

Hovering above the table is an image of a low non-nondescript building in an industrial area, a live feed from one of Tony’s stealth drones, schematics, and personnel info. On the table, are pastries. You grab a cronut and pass another down to Nat who sits to your right.

Tony sighs before beginning, that was never a particularly good sign. “So this place,” he makes the static image fill the viewing area, “came on our radar a couple of months ago. Natasha and Clint tried to do some recon but came up pretty cold.”

“Yeah,” Nat pipes up, “there’s obviously set personnel there, shipments coming in of what seem to be medical supplies, but other than that it seems pretty neutral.”

“Where is it?” Sam asks.

“Just outside of Chicago,” Steve replies. “Mainly an industrial region but there are suburbs not far away.” Suburbs meant civilians. Sam runs a hand over his face.

“Either of you, know anything about this one?” Tony points to you and Bucky. For a second you hold one another’s stare, a tingle inches up your spine.

“I don’t,” you answer tearing your eyes away. “The medical shipments could mean something but it could also just be a way station for them. They had plenty of those.”

“Are we sure it’s Hydra?” Bucky asks not directly answering Tony’s question.

“I’m assuming you don’t know anything about this one either, Manchurian Candidate?” Bucky nods.

“We’re sure,” Clint says. “We found reference to it in the Hydra files from S.H.I.E.L.D. but no information other than the location.” That was pretty standard.

You sigh, “Schematics?” There had been some kind of blueprint on the screen a minute ago.

Tony flicks his hand bringing it up, “Barely. I have the actual blueprint of the building but the draw on the power grid here implies there’s more than what we’re seeing.” He pushes the map to the side and brings up the live feed, “I’ve been scanning it for 24 hours to see if I can get a read but there’s something blocking it that I can’t get past.”

He moves his hands to bring everything up in equal measure for you all to study. Once Tony thinks enough time has passed he speaks, “So, what do we think? Go in with what we have or sit on it?” He’s asking the room but looking at Steve, the two of them being the unofficial leaders here.

“If we sit on it there is a chance people could get hurt and if we go in there’s the same chance. I don’t like going in practically blind but I don’t know that we can risk letting any Hydra base we find fester for long.” Steve says, nods of agreement from around the table from everyone but Bucky. “Maybe we take a small team, ground ops.” That meant you, him, Bucky, and Natasha. Great.  

“I’m ok with that, it’s too close to residences for my comfort,” Bruce says, relief visible. He would have gone if asked but he’s so happy to not have to.

“I’m happy to hang back for backup if needed,” Sam says. Steve nods.

“If you think that’s the best call. We will all be close by in case. Except for you Banner,” Tony gives him a reassuring nod.

“Let’s suit up then,” Steve says and with that, you all disperse.

[Bucky]

The jet lands a few miles away from the targeted location and you all load up into an armored van. In the close quarters, he swears he can smell your shampoo, something with vanilla. It makes him think of burying his face in your neck. Not the time, Buck. He thinks to himself.

Other than the exchange this morning he hadn’t seen you save for that glimpse in the gym. Neither of you had exchanged a word still and were actively avoiding the other. However, as Sam drives over a particularly rough patch of road, sending the four of you jostling a bit your eyes meet and he swears they sparkle just a touch in the near black of the van.

He doesn’t like this mission. Not one bit. Steve told him he was being paranoid. This would likely be like most of the others, a partially deserted base with a handful of people, easy enough to take out. Something ate at him though. He just wished he knew what it was or that he had a few days to work it out…

The van stops. If everything was going according to plan Sam was walking around to open the doors from inside a deserted warehouse a couple of blocks away. As they open Bucky braces himself, already prepared for things to go south. It’s just Sam though, exactly where they were supposed to be.

Steve senses his tension and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Come on Ms. Daisy, we don’t have all fuckin’ day,” Sam jabs. Bucky hops out, on alert and the three of you follow. Sam gets in the back where you all were, hitting a button that makes the cabin come to life with Stark tech. “I’ll be your eye in the sky. Go get ‘em.”

Outside the building, you all pause, waiting for the all clear from Sam, once given you stalk inside. It’s quiet, very quiet. A generic two-story industrial workspace opens before you, housing some kind of metalworking machinery, and offices toward the back.

Sam’s voice comes in quietly over the coms, “I’m not reading any life signs besides y’all in the building right now.” That wasn’t right because they knew five men had come in earlier and you hadn’t seen them leave.

You crouch down and lay your hands on the ground, light pulsing around your fingers. Nodding you say, “There’s something under us. I can feel the heat.”

“Think you can blow the power?” Steve asks you.

“Not without blowing the whole block out,” you respond.

Bucky can’t shut up, “That’s a bad call.” He gives Steve a steady stare. “It’ll immediately alert them of our presence.”

“Got a better plan?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, we leave.”

“No dice,” Nat says as she whips out a gun and shoots two guards heading down the stairs by the offices. Shit.

“Blow it,” Steve says looking at you. Bucky shakes his head but you ignore him. Laying your hands on the ground they start to glow, pulling in kinetic energy before you send a low pulse that blasts every electrical circuit in range.

A siren can be heard from underground, “What the hell did I say?” Bucky growls running and taking out the few others coming down.

Steve barrels ahead toward the offices, you hot on his heels, no doubt assuming an access point is somewhere back there. A minute later him and Natasha catch up to you. Things are quiet again, save for the low wail of the siren.

Natasha ducks into an office, “Here,” she hisses. As she hits a button the desk moves to reveal stair access. This had to be an old facility, Bucky hadn’t seen something so rudimentary in decades.

Slowly you all descend. Steve at the front, shield up. Bucky right behind him, as always. Then Nat and you bringing up the rear. At the bottom of the stairs, there’s no one, no rushing guards or panicked drones. Just a long hallway extending to the left and right flooded with red light and that maddening sound. As if to say told you so Steve glances back at Bucky a small smile on his lips.

As soon as four agents come barreling toward them Bucky makes a mental note to slap Steve upside the head, with his left hand, the next time the opportunity presents itself.

[Reader]

When you see the agents shooting down the hallway you groan internally. Something told you this was going to be a shit show and these guys were just the opening act.

“Get down!” you say loud enough for your team to hear and shoot a concentrated bar of energy toward the assailants. It was… gruesome. You were used to it. But hopefully, the sight of their comrades mangled smoking bodies would deter anyone from coming from that direction.

“Split,” Steve orders. Automatically you and Natasha head the direction of the agents you took out, effortlessly avoiding the gore.

There’s a lot of electricity being used here. What you had knocked out was only a fraction. You can feel the whirring of maybe a hundred or more heavy duty generators under the building, and it’s hot, oven hot. This is great for you because it gives you plenty of ammo, knowing this she lets you take the lead.

The slightest sound of footsteps greet your ears and a small grunt comes from Nat. You spin on your heels. There’s a woman with her arms around Natasha’s neck. She’s�� muzzled. Shit. An asset, not an agent. Nat and you have a system though. Spinning around, acting as though she’s trying to free herself she puts the asset in your line. Laying your hand on her head you put her down, quickly, painlessly.

When she falls Natasha notices the muzzle. Her eyes find yours, the silent, You good, passing between you. You nod and keep going. Hoping this was a one-off.

Silence, still, save for the siren. The presence of the generators is bothering you. Everything is lit by that red emergency light. But those things were running something.

The floor plan seems to be a loop because you hear the boys scuffling just to your right as the hallway opens to a large open space. Papers are scattered, drawers tumped over, desks on their side people left here fast.

“Sam,” you ask into the com. Nothing but static. Fuck. There was definitely something here blocking the signal.

Steve and Bucky round the corner. Immediately you seek out Bucky’s eyes but you don’t have to see them to get the answer to your question. In his left hand is a muzzle, blood dripping from it to the floor.

Goddamnit. These were the worst kind of fights, taking out your own. And there was never any way to tell without prior intel who was a Hydra devotee and who had been taken against their will. The only reason Steve pulled you instead of killing you was the intel they had on you from Bucky and a bit from the Hydra files to corroborate. 

You swallow the bile in your throat, fighting the phantom feeling on the muzzle over your face, and keep going. Focus on the mission. Clear the facility. That was your job.

“I don’t think there’s anyone left,” Natasha says behind you. Desperately you want her to be right but you know she’s not. Those generators.

“Let’s be sure,” Steve says slowly stalking forward as Bucky tosses the muzzle to the ground. When your eyes meet he doesn’t really see you. That’s fine.

There’s a glass partition after the empty open office space. Doors leading further underground. Power licks up your arms, hot and throbbing. This is where the generators are pumping uninterrupted electricity you realize as you enter what appears to be a medical site. A memory tickles the back of your brain.

Bucky and Steve are at the front, methodically swiveling into each small room, opening each curtain, you and Natasha poised to take out anything or anyone that may emerge. Another open space is ahead. Your mouth goes dry. You hiss in a sound and something like a whining growl comes from Bucky.  

A chair.

Every muscle in your body tenses. A hot burning throb lashes up your spine. You can see the plates in Bucky’s arm shift up and down again and again in response to the panic.

This was an Asset Facility. This was a place where they tore people apart and stitched them back together in Hydra’s image. It was in places like this you and Bucky had been made or rather... unmade… You just didn’t think there were any in the states… Stupid assumption. So far, though, all the team had found were R&D facilities, way stations, and holding sites. Not hell mouths like this.

Steve approaches the chair, he knows what it is even if he hadn’t seen one in person. “Don’t,” Bucky grinds out. You’re thankful for it. Seeing someone approach it fills you with a dread you can’t name. Steve looks back at his best friend and you can see the horror, anger, and worry blend on his face.

The sound of a large metal lock echoes over the now distant wail of the siren. Everyone is frozen for a second… And that second is everything.

A strangely familiar bolt of heat shoots your direction. It’s not accurate buzzing and pulsing random bits of energy rather than a knife blade like yours. Bucky pulls Steve down and you grab Natasha. It slams into the steel wall behind you and a groaning sound resonates.

Looking up you see someone, head shorn, muzzled but in a hospital gown. They’re bone thin, dirty, head twitching, chair marks fresh on their face. All across their body are white tendrils of light glowing. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You can’t think, can’t move, can only see this person and know they feel like they’re inside of a lightning storm, you know they feel like their atoms are being torn apart bit by bit and they can’t stop it or contain it. They can’t even scream out in pain for fucks sake.

Natasha takes a shot but the asset dodges. You come back to yourself then and hurl Nat away as you catch a ball of energy thrown at her. It throbs then snakes its way into your body, burning, through you as you absorb it. 

You scream in pain but raise to your feet. Steve attempts to throw his shield at them and instead takes a messy lash of hot energy across the chest. This asset is fast, even if their release is crude.

“Steve!” Bucky bellows and catches him. You look back to the asset keeping their distance and see them pulse bright and hot all over. Fuck. Bucky sees it too and literally throws Steve at you while rushing for the shield.

You catch him, he’s conscious, though he’s going to be feeling this for at least a week. “Get them the fuck out of here, Y/N!” Roaring Bucky charges the asset and you realize he is just trying to hold them off, give you all enough time before they blow. Shit.

“No!” Steve yells as you drag him along. You do as Bucky says and get them to the entrance of the med ward when you hear a loud crackle. Bucky roars. Steve looks at you, not Captain America at this moment but a scared kid horrified he’s going to lose the only family he has left.

“Take him,” you say. Natasha nods holding Steve’s arm over her shoulder. “Do not stop. Get to the van. Get as far away as you can. Don’t wait for us. Go!” You spin on your heels and bolt back the way you came.

They’re too close to one another for you to take a shot. The asset is on Bucky, an inhuman noise coming from behind the muzzle. God, this was you at some point. Some wraith with only one goal in mind. Kill the target.

You let loose a blast of energy next to them and the asset’s focus shoots to you. Now that you’re a little closer you can see them more clearly, a woman, her skin bubbling and burned, body unable to contain this force that lived within you both.

Bucky moves under her and her focus shoots back to the easier of the two targets present. Another sound comes from her and he throws her back, using the shield for leverage. She slams against the wall. Bucky looks at you, his expression murderous.

There isn’t any time to waste. You see the pulse of light before he does. In an instant you’re in front of him, catching more of that undisciplined energy. It sears its way into you as you try to wrangle it but you hold in your scream, not wanting Steve or Nat to somehow hear and come back.

She’s suffering, this woman before you. A part of you wishes you could save her, help her, but you know the only way to ease her pain is release. With that thought, you direct her own energy back at her blasting a neat five-inch hole straight through her heart. The energy in her body pulses but dissipates as she collapses to the ground eyes seeing nothing, body feeling no more pain. Something in you goes dark when she does.

You know Bucky is ok enough to not need immediate attention if any, so you run the direction the asset came needing to know that there wasn’t another. He calls your name but you ignore him. No one was going to suffer like that anymore on your watch. There are only two cells, sensibly most Asset Facilities only worked on one or two projects at a time.

One cell is open, clearly, the one the woman had come from. The other is locked but you fry the old lock and pry it open. The sight inside is gruesome, a body, charred beyond recognition. They had burned out in here alone. You slam the door shut and stride back the way you came.

He’s kneeling over the woman, taking her muzzle off. Slowly, almost delicately he closes her eyes.

“We’re clear,” you bark and keep heading out. You pause, turn, and send a burning bolt of power, hot enough to melt some of the metal and render it useless straight to the chair.

“What the fuck!” He was far enough from it to not be hurt, not far enough to not be startled. You say nothing.

As soon as you emerge in the above ground space you hear the com signal open. “We’re clear,” you say again.

“Thank god,” Tony’s voice responds. They’ve pulled up outside the building. Exactly what you told them not to do. You burn a bit with annoyance.

As you exit Bucky spins you around. “What the fuck did I say?!” He’s in your face screaming, feeling so much more emotion than you right now you almost envy him. “I said get them out,” he gestures to Steve and Natasha.

“We’re out Bucky don’t-“

“I wasn’t talking to you Rodgers,” Bucky’s tone is icy as he cuts him off.

Rather than respond you let the heat build up under his hands. Hotter and hotter until he hisses pulling the flesh one away, the metal staying put for a moment until it’s glowing red. No one moves and he finally let's go.

You grab him by the neck, spinning him a bit and forcing him down on the ground, straddling him the way she had. It takes an instant. There’s the rustle of bodies around you but you hold up your left arm, lashing tendrils of light curl around it in warning.

“Next time,” you hiss your breath making clouds in the cooling air around you, “I’ll just fucking let you die.” You release him.

When you stand everyone is staring at you. Unsure, afraid. Good. He was right. They needed to remember what kind of monsters were among them.

[wafflesetc]

Ok but The Laid Who Humped Me fic please and thank you

Ye shall ask, ye shall receive. I FULLY blame @futurelounging and @caitbalfes for this fic.  

THANK YOU to @kkruml and @missclairebelle for holding my hand through this journey, seeing as it’s the first time I have attempted this particular genre of fic.

ALSO CHECK OUT THE MOVIE POSTER FOR ‘THE LAIRD WHO HUMPED ME’

I finished applying the lipstick in the mirror, smacking my lips together and applying the gloss, and paused for a moment to take stock of my appearance as I finished.

“Not so bad, Beauchamp.” I muttered to myself as I shimmied the red material down my thighs till the hem grazed the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles as the lines contoured my body. “We can do this, we are professionals.”

I stepped out of the ladies room holding my clutch to one side while I pressed the coms into my left ear.

“Laird, are you there?” I said softly as I walked through the grand hallways letting my curls cover my ears once more.

“Aye; Sassenach. I’m in the ballroom by the wall, eyes locked on the target. How long till yer here?” Jamie spoke softly.

“I’m coming from the west wing. I will be entering the ballroom in just over a minute. I’m in a red dress, hair is down.”

“Got it. Copy that, lass.” Jamie said as he continued to converse with someone else.

Jamie Fraser and I had been partners for just over 3 years. We’d diffused bombs, saved a city from a serial killer, and single handedly taken down a hijacking attempt on a plane. (on our vacation nonetheless) — he also happened to be my husband.

Tonight we found ourselves in Prague; some kind of counter intelligence had led us here to investigate a ring of European money laundering. We were dressed to the tens tonight— me in a floor length, red, Gucci dress, Jamie in a black suit complete with bow tie.

I had wanted him from the moment we left the hotel room.

There would time for that later.

The building was grand, ancient, and full of history. We were mingling with Prague’s finest: politicians, royalty, lawyers, doctors, and lobbyists.

I was Mrs. Malcolm, wife of highly esteemed international business man, Alexander Malcolm.

The goal of tonight: interview Chez Romonav: a lawyer who had all the right connections— and earn his trust.

I slowly made my way through the hallway as I found the ballroom.

As I emerged from the hallway into the ballroom, I took stock of the room, scanning the the mingling parties. There were three exits on the west, two to the east, and the main one to the south where I had just come through. There were two bars at either end, a fountain in the middle and servers serving h’orderves and walking around with glasses of champagne.

“Mademoiselle” an unknown voice spoke as their hand rested gently on the small of my back where my dress hung low, just covering the small of my hips. “May I do the honor of offering you a glass of champagne?”

I turned, smiling, as I faced the unknown person.

“Ah, Mr. Romonav!” I said, a beaming smile on my face (just the person we were meant to entice tonight— I knew this dress was going to work!). He bowed gracefully towards me as he handed me a glass of champagne.

“You have me at a loss, mistress. I’m sorry but who are you?” Mr. Romonav asked.

I smiled and took a small sip of the champagne, fluttering my eyes.

“Silly me! I am Cassandra Malcolm, Mr. Alexander Malcolm’s wife. I was just using the ladies room; he’s over there talking to our dear friends, why don’t you come join us!” I said in my thickest English accent.

Chez smiled and offered me an arm. “I have heard so many good things about your husband, yes let us make our introductions!”

We talked rugby and small finance as we walked over. Jamie saw me and reached his hand out towards me, pulling me to his side.

“Ah, my lovely Cass.” He said, kissing me softly.

“Mr. Malcolm, I am Chez Romonav. I had the pleasure of meeting your beautiful wife, it is an honor to meet you as well.”

Jamie nodded as he offered his hand. “The pleasure is all mine, please call me Alex.”

“Alright Alex… why don’t we go have a talk, over yonder. I have some business propositions that might be beneficial to you.”

“What a great idea. Cass why don’t you stay here and talk to the Murphy’s and we’ll be back in a little bit.”

I nodded placing my hand on his chest, and kissing his cheek softly. I heard a low Scottish grunt come from his throat. It was so quiet no one else had heard — but Chez kissed my hand and walked off. As I turned my attention back to Jamie I saw the pure want and desire in his eyes.

“What I would do to have ye alone right now, ye are causing another Rising in this tux, Sassenach! With a dress like that, ye should not have been allowed to leave the hotel like that.”

“Well, Mr. Fraser, the quicker you find out where Romonav stashes his client list and bank accounts, the sooner you can have me all to yourself.” I said as I gave his tush a firm squeeze as they walked away.

I sipped on champagne for what seemed like an eternity. I listened to the Murphy’s talk of their summer plans in Venice, the Smith’s and their new house in Paris, and the Mussin’s new au pair from Spain.

I had always been a woman of simple tastes. I did enjoy the finer things in life- but give me a handsome lover, a comfy bed, and a stunning view and that was all I really needed in life.

I had my back against the wall, sipping mindlessly on another glass of champagne while I watched Jamie, no correction, Alexander, charm his way through a group of international businessmen.

I watched as he sipped on his tumbler of whisky. The amber liquid bringing a flush to his cheeks; his auburn curls bouncing as his face turned from person to person. His smile — dear lord, his smile— winning over the crowd. I could hear the laughs coming from the men that were surrounding him the different languages— Italian, French, and Spanish, all being spoken — and Jamie changing from each language back and forth like it was nothing— and all the men fawning over him.

And that suit — good God, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I felt the tightness in my chest as I continued to watch him; even from afar he ignited something inside me and set fire to my soul.

I felt Mrs. Murphy’s arm on my shoulder as she smiled at me.

“Cass, your mouth… You’re drooling…”

I laughed and tossed my hair back wiping my mouth.  “Thank you for your company, but I have an urgent matter to attend to with my husband,” I said with determination in my voice. I set my glass of champagne down on a table, and slowly made my way across the room.

I grabbed him by the shoulder, sending chills down both his body and mine. “I am so sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I need my husband for just a few moments. Some urgent business needs to be attended to.”

“Absolutely.” Mr. Romonav said as I nonchalantly smiled and grabbed Jamie’s hand. Our eyes met and his blue eyes squinted in recognition as I lead him through the crowd.

“Sassneach, where are ye taking me? We could blow this op!” Jamie whispered into the back of my neck, sending chills down my spine.

“Trust me.” I replied, as we continued through the dwindling crowd.

“With my life.” Jamie grunted in a low Scottish accent.

Finally, we were where I had wanted to be — the library. It was dimly lit, small, intimate, and private enough if we got caught it would be by a lonesome soul or two. I turned slowly to face him, as I ran my fingers through my curls.

It happened so quickly- my legs took stock of what was happening before my head could. I felt the bookshelves pressed into my back as Jamie pinned me to the wall. I could smell the whisky on his breath and the ink of the old books we were surrounded by.

I felt his warm hands on the small of my back as Jamie trailed kisses up and down my jaw; his stubble was definitely going to be leaving some marks on me tomorrow.

His hands found their way to the fabric on my thighs, slowly pulling my floor length dress up, so it was sitting on my hips. In between hasty kisses, I fumbled for the button on his pants undoing them.

Jamie laughed as he kissed me. “Shhh. Sassenach, ye dinna want to get us caught!” I tried to answer but was stopped as his mouth claimed mine once more, his hand hitching my leg and wrapping it around his thigh.  My hands found their way to the auburn mess of curls atop his head and he used his chest to press me even further into the bookshelves, leaving me completely at his mercy.  

Jamie made a low Scottish grunt as he drove himself into me. He knew what he was doing and thrust himself- home, and home, and home again.

A few minutes later, I wrapped my arms around his neck, as my dress fell to the floor. I felt the small smile on his face as he kissed my forehead.

“I always knew that red dress was gon’ be trouble.”

I laughed into his chest, as I took my arms off his neck and adjusted his bow-tie.  “Post coital, and you still look dapper, Agent 0069.”  

Jamie smiled down at me pushing a stray curl behind my ear. “Anything for you, Moany Penny.”

[dark-night-star-light]

Yeah!

the spirit animals fandom is being revived, this is amazing

[buckygirl-fanfiction]

Sparks Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky(POV) X Reader(POV) ft. other members of the avengers team.

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: y/n a member of the Stark scientific research team meets Bucky after waking him up from cryo sleep. She fits him with a new arm and a friendship begins to grow. 

A/N: This is a story about two people building a great friendship and then slowly falling in love. y/n is a strong, independent, and smart scientist. She meets Bucky when she wakes him up from cryo sleep and they become friends. This is going to have all the angst / best friends falling in love / fluff / drama / & eventual smut ;) that I can possibly fit in it. This fic is going to be looong! So far my document is like 66 pages. So editing is hard If you catch any grammatical or formatting errors let me know.

June 8, 2015

Bucky’s POV

I saw a faint figure and a bright light. Then nothing but black.

…

More bright light, this time I was awake long enough to make out a blur of something long and dark walking away from me. But the light was too bright to get a clear picture of anything. Then more black.

…

“Can you dim the lights?” I hear a gentle voice. “Hello?” “Can you hear me?” My eyes flutter open only for a couple seconds. The light in the room isn’t as overbearing as usual and this time my surroundings don’t blind me. I am able to make out a women standing in front of me with long black hair. But, I don’t get a good enough look before I pass out again.

…

June 10, 2015

“Alright Mr. Barnes. Time to wake up”. I hear a distinctly different voice. It’s a deep male voice, not gentle at all, and kind of annoying. “Mr. Barnes can you hear me. Open your eyes if you can please.” The deep tone of his voice wasn’t pleasing at all, infact my head starts pounding at the sound. The lights don’t help with my splitting migraine as I open my eyes i’m blinded again. “Well hello”. The man continues. “I’m doctor Axelrod. You’ve just been revived from the cryo-chamber two days ago. Do you know who you are?” The tall scruffy man looms over me holding a clipboard and pen in his hands.

(y/n)’s POV

I roll my eyes, annoyed. I stare across the floor through the glass of the examination room. Inside I catch a glimpse of Dr. Axelrod, along with a nurse by his side, looming over Barnes.

“I should be the one doing the post-op” I say to Dr. Helen Cho who is looking through a microscope and jotting down notes on a yellow legal pad.

“Well Axelrod beat you to it,” she says continuing her work.

“He didn’t beat me to it.” I stress the last syllable. “I was here two days alright! Have not gone home in two days so I could be here when he woke up and do the post-op”. I say as I spin myself around on the lab stool trying keep myself distracted. “Not my fault overlord Axelrod thinks he has first dibs on everything”.

“He does have dibs on everything, he runs the facility” Cho says. “Don’t be so obsessive”

“I’m rolling my eyes at you by the way. Just thought I’d let you know since you haven’t looked up from that microscope in about a week now, so don’t lecture me on obsessive” I say to Helen. “Anyways i’m not being obsessive”.

“Yes you are.”

“Then what do you call what you’re doing?”

Helen looks up from her work and at me for the first time in our conversation. “I’m dedicating my time to scientific inquiry. It’s important”.

“So am I!” I retort. “He is the first subject we have ever put into cryo-sleep in over a century. We’ve cut into his brain. A brain, if I may add, that has had numerous chemical alterations. Not to mention the whole secret mind control spy thing. You don’t think that warrants any serious scientific inquiry?”

“I do… and lucky Axelrod gets to do all the inquiring” Cho says once again looking through her notes. “You have other projects. Focus on those.”

“I have other boring projects” I moan. “That are all pre-approved by boring old scientists like Axelrod who get to do all the fun new innovative stuff”.

“OHhh no fair I don’t get to prod at the cute super-soldier’s brain” Cho playfully mocks me.

“OHhh no fair, I never get to do any original scientific work” I say back imitating her tone.

“Go home… get some sleep” Cho says. “Aren't you fitting him with his new arm tomorrow? You can inquire after his brain chemistry then.”

“A new arm that I designed” I chime in.

“Yeah, yeah” Cho says.

“Can’t believe I spend two days here” I say grabbing my clipboard and heading to the lockers.

With my messenger bag around my shoulder I head out of the tower. It’s brisk and dark in a peaceful way, almost refreshingly.

“Y/N?” I hear someone call my name and I turn around. I see Steve walking towards me.

“Yeah?” I know Steve a little, through Cho, and i’ve seen him at a couple office parties. The last time we talked he asked me to keep an eye on his best friend. I eagerly agreed curiosity getting the better of me. Neurology is my thing after all and Barnes seemed like a fascinating candidate for study.

“Is Bucky awake?” He asks me.

“Yeah, Axelrod beat me to it” I say. “He’s up there with him right now”.

“Axelrod…” Steve said. Funny, I thought, he almost sounds disappointed. Well I’m right there with you buddy.

“Yeah not the best bedside manner, but he’s in good hands. Go check on him. I’ll see you later”.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on him y/n” He says and I turn back and start to walk towards my apartment. It’s only a 10 minute walk away and it’s such a beautiful night. My shoes click on the pavement, echoing through the dark. I can’t believe I spend two days at the lab… I think to myself. Never again…

…

June 11, 2015

The next day I come in later than usual and head up to the lab to find Cho still in her lab jacket typing away at a keyboard. “Have you been here all night?” I ask.

“Yeah. Fascinating stuff. Really close to a breakthrough” she says not even looking up to greet me. Man I miss being so engrossed in my work like that. For god sakes i’m a scientist with multiple doctorates: biochemistry, neurology, and biomedical engineering and what am I doing? I’m basically a glorified personal assistant. I shouldn’t be complaining. I’m at a great position and if I’m going to be assisting anyone it might as well be Dr. Axelrod who is a certified world renowned genius. He still irks me though.

“y/n” And there I go being called to assist. “Great you’re here. I’m leaving for a briefing. I was hoping to fit Mr. Barnes with his new prosthesis today. But, I’m being called away so you’re going to have to do it. You got everything under control, right? I should be back soon if you need any help.”

“Yep.” I say as calmly as possible. Obviously I have everything under control I designed the damn thing. WHY WOULD I NEED HELP! To think he almost hijacked this project from me too. Rolling my eyes I watch him give me a awkward thumbs up and walk away. I grab one of the nurses and get everything ready. Flipping through some of Axelrod’s post-op notes, I walk towards Barnes’ room. “Hello” I say walking through the door to see the gigantic figure sitting on the bed. He’s wearing blue hospital pants and a white tank top. I’m greeted with a faint smile, a handshake, and a simple ‘hi’. “I’m Dr. y/n y/l/n. I’m going to be fitting you with a new prosthesis today”. He let out a quiet breath indicating that he was ready. For someone who has been asleep for a year he doesn’t seem very talkative. I get a closer look at his arm and the scars that seem to indicate the ghost of his old prosthetic arm. It was most likely very painfully welded onto him. Ouch I think to myself. He looks at me while I fiddle around with the end of his limb. It’s not a long procedure actually but I take my time curiosity getting the best of me again. “How do you feel?” I ask. His replies are short and very general. And at last when I come to the conclusion that i’m not going to get anything interesting out of him. I finally lift up his new metal arm and walk towards him. I’m holding it against my waist with my forearm against what will be his new left biceps. I simply click it with a twist onto his shoulder piece and it makes a faint noise. With his now metal arm still resting on the side of my waist I squeeze the top of his biceps and very quickly run the tips of my fingers gently down the length of his newly attached arm in one swift move.

“Whoa,” He says pulling back a little. Well that was the first true reaction I’ve gotten out of him since I walked in. He looks up at me and shivers. “I felt that.” He says almost amazed. I can’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Yep new and improved sensory receptors” I say. Good job y/n I think to myself. Not too shabby designing a next-gen prosthetic arm like this. Not too shabby…

“That’s it?” He asks looking at me questioningly.

“Yep”.

“Well the last time I did this I remember it quite differently and a lot more painfully”. He says.

“Well,” I begin “The arm is attached through magnets. So no invasive surgery required. And it’s lightweight, still stronger than any normal prosthetic so you can go do your superhero stuff… Umm that’s basically it” I say. “Uhh hold on” I grab a pair of scissors and lean over his shoulder and cut off the tag that says mark 73.

Apparently my hair brushed against him because he says, “I felt your hair”.

“Oh ha sorry I say”. Putting the scissors on the metal tray along with the identification tag. I twist up my hair into a bun, damn thing always getting everywhere.

“No.” he says. “It was nice. I mean, feeling things again.”

“Yeah. I mean I was concerned a little about how it would test in field situations. Because of sensitivity. If you get hurt you’re going to feel it. But I worked through that around mark 60” I say organizing the tray of tools. “You can actually just turn it off. The sensory receptors I mean.” I walk towards him. “Give me your hand” I take his metal fingers in my hand. “Tap your index finger three times on the center of your palm.” I watch him do it and then I tap my fingers against his arm. “No feeling, see.” He gives me a quizzical look and taps his middle finger against his palm again.

“You really put a lot of work into this.” Well yeah I mean I was bored, I think to myself. “Thanks” he says.

“Hello. Mr. Barnes.” Dr. Axelrod’s booming voice comes from behind me. “I hope Y/N did a good job installing your new limb.” He walks over to Barnes and knocks on his metal arm. “Can you feel that?”

“Yes,” Barnes says.

“Ah fascinating. I don’t know why she wasted so much time on sensory receptors. I personally wanted her to focus more on the weaponizable aspects. Thought that would be more to your taste since your a field agent.” Axelrod went on. I was kind of getting annoyed now. It was almost like he was putting down my design. Please, like he could do better.

“Well, we are about quality of life here” I retort.

“A man does need his machinery.” Axelrod stated and looked toward Barnes with a eerie smile on his face “we should get started with your physiological and physical evaluation.

That was my cue to leave. But before I do I snarkily said, “Well like you said he is a man not a machine. So I thought a sense of touch would be more valuable than sticking nuclear weapons in his arm.” I grab my clipboard and walk out of the room. But not before catching a glimpse of a crooked smile on Barnes face.

“Hey how’d he like the arm” Cho says walking towards me her eyes slightly rimmed with red. Probably from all the sleep deprivation. She has her bag on her shoulder.

“I think he liked it. Axelrod on the other hand, as usual, found a couple faults” I say rolling my eyes. “You finally going home?”

“Yeah after lunch, you wanna come with? I’m meeting Wanda” She says. “Yeah sure why not” I say walking towards the locker room to grab my bag.

“y/n!” I hear Axelrod’s voice call. “Make sure you submit your progress reports to me by tonight”.

“Progress reports?” Cho asks as we walk towards the locker room. “Since when?”

“Since he monitors everything I do.”

…

Bucky’s POV

I watched Dr. y/l/n walk away through the glass towards a tall asian woman. She absentmindedly tugged at the bun in her hair undoing the knot. Her hair was long and black and fell all the way down her back. The rest of the day passed uneventfully and tediously. Tests after tests. But Dr. y/l/n’s words kept coming back to me. “He is a man not a machine”.

[cathcacen]

Elevator Love Letter

Also known as the time Learei got stuck in a lift together, following weeks of ragging on each other.

She wants to break something.

It’s been two months since he’d arrived at the hospital, and for the most part, they’d gotten along well enough. If she’s honest, she’s surprised they’d made it that far without killing each other. He’s arrogant. He has a smart mouth. He’s not afraid to mess with her. He argues back and teases her mercilessly in front of her attending. To her chagrin, her attending joins in.

Her fellow residents harass her about his condition. When they aren’t busy mocking her for playing nursemaid, they lobby to scrub into his surgeries. He always responds the same way. I’m here for Naveau.

That doesn’t help with the rumours at all. It spreads like wildfire. The nurses giggle when she walks past. The Chief of Surgery summons her back to his office to remind her that Doctor-Patient relationships are strictly prohibited under hospital policy.

Those are minor annoyances, but they’re nothing compared to what she feels when she finds him slouched in the hallway, green in the face and clutching his leg. He’d torn his stitches loose. His bandages are soaked in blood.

They’d recently operated on it. She’d told him to take it easy.

“Why do you even ask for an estimated recovery time? You’re going to disregard my orders anyway.” WIth the help of her interns, she’d managed to get him onto a gurney, and back in his bed on the eighth floor. They’d milled around just outside his door, snickering amongst themselves throughout her lecture.

“Tick tock, Naveau,” He’d grinned, still shivering from the shock of bloodloss and physical trauma. “Gotta get back to work at some point, right?”

Zero remorse.

He’s set himself back another month, and by the time he’s expected to recover from this mishap, she’ll have spent four months on his sorry ass.

That infuriates her. Least of all because it’s a waste of her time.

She knows it’s the same old problem. She cares too much, and he doesn’t. Despite their semi-regular arguing and juvenile pranking, and despite the unwanted attention and gossip from her colleagues, she has to admit that she’s gotten used to having him around. And more than that, she’s come to enjoy his company.

It’s not a welcome realisation, and he’s made it all too clear that he wants nothing to do with a doctor who simply cares too much.

Over the course of the next week, she avoids him unless absolutely necessary. She waits until he’s out after his final operation before dragging her stolen skeleton model back to the spare room she’d used before. She packs up her notes and books. By the time he wakes post-op, his room is returned to its prior state - pristine and perfectly common. Sterile.

Patient and doctor. That’s all we are. Patient, and doctor.

He doesn’t leave her alone for long. For someone so concerned with boundaries, she wonders why his are so warped where she’s concerned.

Their easygoing friendship goes out the door. It’s war.

They fight. It’s petty and passive-aggressive. She brings him uncut steak for lunch, and he eats it with his working hand. By the time the nurses find him, he’s dribbled crimson steak juices all over his blankets and gown.

“She likes me a little dirty,” He’d told them.

The other residents are still laughing at her for that one.

She puts the Twilight series on in his room and sets his television on permanent replay. He protests, but she only beams, waving his remote in her hand before shoving it into her coat pocket. When she walks him around the hospital the next day, he amuses himself by repeating the worst lines in an obnoxiously loud and dramatic voice. She threatens to leave him out in the open, but he leans closer, clutching her arm. “We can’t be apart. You can’t leave me. Better hold on tight, spidermonkey.”

When they’re back in his room, she unhooks his television and leaves him entirely without entertainment.

She’s listening for a heart murmur the next day when loud techno music rocks the hospital to its core. Every staffer turns in her direction, and she doesn’t even need to see him to know that he’s behind it all.

He’s smirking at her when she storms into his room.

“HOW THE SHIT DID YOU HIJACK OUR HOSPITAL PA SYSTEM?!”

He jabs at his phone, and the silence is deafening. “That’s classified information, dearie.”

“Okay, this, this has got to stop.” She snatches away his phone, holding it at arm’s length. “Do you have any idea how disruptive you’re being? Some of us actually have jobs to do here.”

He shrugs his good shoulder. “I’m bored. And part of your job is seeing me.”

She feels herself twitch. “You’re not scheduled for another session until tomorrow. Today’s rest day. Or have we forgotten what happens when you don’t listen to me?”

He starts to grin. “I wouldn’t have done that if you’d left the television, y’know.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t recited all those horrible lines at me!” Her cheeks are burning. Why the hell is it so hot? She buns up her hair.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Shut up.” She holds up his phone. “And where’d you get this? I thought you didn’t come in with one.”

“Pulled it out of my ass.”

She glares. “Don’t make me schedule another enema for you, Sagen.”

His looks her straight in the eye, and his smirk says it all. “Kinky. Let’s not forget what happened the last time you did that.”

He’s going to give me a stroke. She clenches her fists, then tosses the phone back at him before striding to the door. The nurses are gathered at their station, but there’s very little talking and far too much listening. When she makes her way back downstairs, the other residents ask if she’s just broken up with her mysterious army boyfriend.

She ignores them all and spends the night working with cadavers. For once, the prospect of drilling and sawing is appealing.

He’s considerably more restrained the next day when she goes to get him for his rehabilitation exercises. They make it through the first part without incident, and he finishes his stretching and basic movement exercises without tearing new holes into his body.

It’s happens when they’re on their way downstairs. The elevator jerks to a halt and the alarm goes off. Inside, the lights dim, and when the backup generator kicks in, she glances over to find him hunched over, teeth gnashed together.

He’s on a strict no-sudden-movements regime, so she knows things have been jarred by the sudden recoil.

She checks his incisions one by one. They’ve thankfully remained intact, and she informs him that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t move too much. Minutes pass without help from the outside, and she wonders if her colleagues aren’t actually having a bit of fun at her predicament.

They end up sitting on the elevator floor, side by side. She hasn’t been this close since the night he’d had post-op pulmonary complications. It’s a different sort of intimacy now, and she has to look at her feet to avoid thinking of him and the way his muscle-hardened shoulder is pressed against her arm.

“Why do you care so much?” He breaks the silence. It’s the first time in weeks they’ve spoken, rather than yelled.

She turns her head a bit. In low visibility, he looks less beat up. “I just want you to get better.”

“So I’ll leave and be out of your hair, right?” He wears a lopsided smile. It’s a far cry from his usual cocky grin.

“Sure,” She tells him. “So maybe if you can stop hating on me, we can work together long enough for you to get better. Then I promise, you’ll never have to see me again. No more nagging, or too much caring.” That last bit comes out rife with sarcasm. Good, she thinks.

“Hating on you?” He laughs, then winces at the strain. “You think I hate being here with you? Why on earth would I have picked this exact hospital to come to then?”

She peers over his incisions, then lets out a breath. “I don’t know. Your intentions have never been very clear to me, anyway. And will you stop aggravating your injuries? We’re never going to be rid of each other if you keep screwing up like this.”

He nudges her lightly with his shoulder. She glances up at him. His eye is soft, half-lidded.

The air feels thinner. And surely it has to be, because why else would it have gotten so hard to breathe?

When he dips his head, it’s just low enough to graze his lips against hers. It’s hardly a kiss. It’s chaste, and barely lasts five seconds. They don’t let it go further.

She pulls away first, absently running her fingers through her hair. “In case you’re curious, and even if you aren’t, I don’t give a shit about you. Not a single shit.”

“Good,” he tells her. “That’s exactly the quality I want in my doctor.”

He’s looking at her when she turns to face him. Locked away from the world in their place of temporary solitude, it occurs to her that this is perhaps where she likes him best. Patient and doctor. And in this place, perhaps, friends. Perhaps a little more than friends.

It’s with an ache in her heart that she realises that’s the only way forward. To not care. And failing that, to at least pretend to not care. His meaning is clear. That’s the best I can do if we pursue this thing between us.

She’s not sure it’s worth it. So when they’re finally pulled from the elevator, she sends him back to his room and vows to be more careful the next time.

She gives him back his television. He stops pushing himself. They allow themselves to come to a comfortable middle ground. The fighting ceases, and in its place comes casual, lighthearted banter. They don’t break the surface with one another.

It takes four months, but they get to the finish line. She says goodbye.

It hurts to watch him go.

[anachronismstellar]

AHA FOUND U OP-

Faijdshskfjs silliness apart, that is an amazing headcanon, it is!!! 😭 I think that's why we all went up in arms against Cucumber after that, because he is self-centered enough to have done that and not even notice it!!

I imagine that some reviews went under Airplane skin, it's impossible to write that amount of words and not have some negative feedback. But my headcanon is that what cracked Airplane's heart down to the middle to the point of him not writing for days was Cucumber's first review. Of course others had criticized PIDW, hundreds in fact, but to the level of nitpicking that SY did? To the point of madness? What are a hundred trolls in comparison to someone who tears your hard work apart with sources and quotes and evidence???

Another thing that drives me insane is the language. We all giggle at SY cursing Airplane, haha hack author but bah people cursing his name hurts as much as feeds Airplane's ego. If it was just the cursing Airplane could read, laugh and move on. But I bet SY has tracked more than once where the plot was supposed to have gone if money wasn't so short, and that, THAT must have hurt like death by a thousand papercuts. To see someone who loves your son (Binghe and PIDW) as much as you do, someone who sees the potential, the vision, only for you to disappoint them again and again

Ahahahaa I'm fiiiiine this is FIIIINEEE :)

So! Fhskfnskdks sorry for hijacking your post, but I swear that your animation broke my heart in a thousand pieces so tiny that I had to go read some silly cumplane to mend it back fjsbakfhskfj ;---;

Thank you for the angst masterpiece and also IF I CATCH U IS ON SIGHT OK WE GONNA THROW HANDS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 *goes watch it again and cry*

Me looking at the response to my latest video:

MWAHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSS. Feel the pAINNNN.

No joke tho. The concept of SQQ saying something hurtful to SQH is so strong in my brain. Like he’s gotta have said like a few things that actually went under SQH’s skin. Maybe not a lot. But just imagine that SQH has been having the shittiest week. And this is just the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Bro. It’s perfection. I can see it so vividly. SQH just shuts down and walks away from SQQ, who doesn’t even know what he did. Perfect miscommunication. SQH wallows in sorrow while SQQ thinks everything is fine. Outwardly, SQH seems to be the same but that isn’t true.

I think SQH sincerely did want PIDW to be good but the fact of the matter is that he needed money. I don’t blame him. But man… to see your creation not live up to the potential it could’ve had stings.

This is all my headcanon tho. I think SQH is a man of many faces. He’s both insanely organized and on top of things (he’s gotta. Man’s running two full time jobs). He’s also Going Through It™ and will show it if he wants to. Emphasis on wants to. He’s got an image to keep up, after all.

Anywho! I’m glad people are enjoying the pain I’ve created :D SVSSS has invaded all of my thoughts and I love having a little scrimblo to pick apart in my mind.

[plupluplu]

hi not to hijack your post op but this reminded me of a great story

this is the story of my greatest Library Crime

growing up my older sister and i were very competitive with each other. over christmas break from school she decided her goal was to read every harry potter book and watch all the movies before break ended. which she did successfully, that is not the story. now, i watched the movies with her but i had never read the books. i had tried before, but the first chapter was boring and i didn’t care about the dursleys so i stopped.

but now things were different, my sister had given me a challenge. i had to be better than her. i took the biggest bag i had, a bright highlighter pink cheetah print messenger bag which i usually used to take a towel and sunscreen to the pool (not necessary in december) and i checked out every harry potter book at once from my local library. now it is important to establish a few things about me, i have horrible untreated (to this day) adhd, and in combination with this have been medically diagnosed with a godawful long and short term memory. this culminates in one of my main symptoms, Inventing Memories.

so, i did not read harry potter faster than my sister, in my defense i had school to worry about and she did not. i also did not lose the books, for you see, i am also very good at losing things. to combat this i kept every book in that same bright highlighter pink cheetah print messenger bag, and i was not allowed to take the next book out until i had finished the one before. so when i finished the deathly hallows, fairly late at night, despondent over losing to my sister, i put it back in the bag and knew i would return the books in the morning.

a week passes, my mother gets a call from the library. “hey, you guys kind of have like Every harry potter book, we need those back.” my mom glances to me where i mouth “i returned them,” fully believing in my soul that i had. with no reason not to trust me, my mother tells the library that we have returned the books and there must be a mistake of some kind. the library agrees to look for them, and that is that.

until we get another call from the library. “hey, are you guys sure you returned them? we can’t find them anywhere.” my mom says we’re pretty sure but she will check our house just in case. we turn to frantic searching, we look everywhere i could possibly have sat to read them. these books are not in our house.

we call the library back. “you have the books, we did not lose them, you guys did.” they agree to search again. a day later, the library does not have the books, they must be with us. we deep clean, the house is fairly messy so they truly could be anywhere at this point. we clean all the spot where books could possibly be hiding, check every child’s bedroom, and every bookshelf. We Do Not Have The Books.

eventually, the library concedes. “yeah, it can get pretty chaotic over here, we probably lost them. don’t worry about it, you don’t owe anything.” my mother is relieved.

a year passes, we are doing spring cleaning. my mother, exhausted by the mess of five children, is throwing stuff out of the perpetually full coat closet left and right for us to pick up and take to a better place. my sister has too many shoes, my brother has too many jackets, i have— why is this bag so heavy?

she hands me the bright highlighter pink cheetah print messenger bag, and i open it to reveal the deathly hallows. “we have to go to the library right now.” says my mother, a good person, i was ready to burn the evidence.

we make the drive in silence, we walk up to the front desk and open the bag for the librarian to see. my mother is apologizing, “i didn’t know, i’m so sorry, i’ll pay whatever fine i owe you, i can pay the price of the whole series, is that okay?”

the librarian is laughing, my mother stops, confused. “did you plan this?” we are asked. “of course not,” we respond, even more confused. the librarian points to the banner above the desk, it reads:

“Amnesty Day: bring back any late book and pay no fee.”

my mother is shocked, i am shocked, the librarian is laughing. my mom insists, she did not plan this, she will pay the fee anyway, she feels so terrible about this whole situation. the librarian insists that she will honor amnesty day, and we owe nothing.

I have to tell my library I lost a book I borrowed they're gonna hunt me for sport

[evilkitten3]

ok ok ok ok this is all really good but i'm just noticing something right now and i'm losing my shit about it so sorry op but i'm hijacking your post

first, the image in madara's flashback to the full-body stabbing panel is almost identical to the one in volume 67, just with a different sound effect

and

this is almost certainly bc one is official and has an english sound effect while the other is a fan translation and left the sound effect (since the version i own is the one in japanese, the second one is the one i'm more familiar with, which is why it stood out to me lol)

so they're basically the same, which makes sense bc it's the same scene.

BUT

their versions of the closer up panel is different

here's hashirama's version:

compared to madara's:

hashirama paints himself in a much darker light - he tells the story with himself as the villain, which i've talked about several times before and will undoubtedly talk about again, and madara as a sort of tragic hero who lost his life when his best friend betrayed him. in hashirama's version, he shows multiple panels of how devastated madara was by how he was being killed- in spite of the fact that, very clearly, there is no point where hashirama is ever actually able to see madara's face and therefore has no clue what expressions he might've been making while hashirama was stabbing him from behind.

in madara's version tho, hashirama just looks... exhausted. resigned. he nearly killed himself to keep his friend alive and it wasn't enough and now he's being forced to sacrifice him to protect what they made together. as for madara, he's startled, but not particularly surprised - he came here for this exact purpose, and if there was some small part of him hoping that hashirama would save him from himself once more... well, he's certainly not going to start opening up any time soon, that's for sure

they both view themselves as the bad guy and the other as a tragic hero - to hashirama, madara is the man whose quest for peace led to the loss of the person he wanted to protect most, the ostracization from his family, and the literal backstab from his only friend. hashirama to himself is the man who betrayed his friend after failing him again and again and ultimately killing him when he finally snapped. but to madara, hashirama is the hero - the man whose quest for peace led him to believe in a false path (as opposed to madara's path, which is ascending to sagehood and putting everyone to bed forever with his magic moon eye. like any reasonable person would) and fall to his own warped ideal of peace. madara to himself is a sacrifice, a savior, and scapegoat all in one.

these two have never been normal about each other or themselves ever not once not even a single time

madara leaving the village because he wanted to spare hashirama having to make the choice to sacrifice him just as he wanted to spare the world from having to make that same choice over and over and over again - severing the karmic cycle of the world he doesn’t blame hashirama for killing him! he knew it would come down to it eventually, and he forced the issue by attacking konoha in order to get hashirama’s cells. he knew hashirama would choose the village, like, there’s not even a choice to be made there, it’s obvious which one he would pick. tobirama or me? madara’s quotes to obito - the world is suffering, for there to be victors there must also be losers. who won at the valley of the end? was it hashirama, for killing his best friend? was it madara, for surviving? madara acknowledges the sacrifice hashirama made - he willingly classifies himself as a sacrifice, one that hashirama makes for the sake of the village. he admires hashirama’s resolve, at this point, but doesn’t agree with his direction - the quote you’re mistaking the means for the end. ive gone over all this before - the village being meant to bring about peace, village for village’s sake is a self-destructive spiral, blah blah. madara knows what hashirama feels, he knows how he thinks (i’d like to think i know you pretty well) so he doesn’t blame him for killing him. it’s not a matter of broken trust because madara knew hashirama was going to kill him from the minute he forced the issue! madara (accurately) knows that his relationship with hashirama wouldn’t stand in the way of hashirama’s resolve to protect the lives of innocents - that’s part of why he loves him! when i say madara positioned himself as a sacrifice in the valley of the end, i mean it as in he put a loaded gun in hashirama’s hand, pointed hashirama’s arm towards him, and then forced hashirama to pull the trigger. 

 madara’s reinforcing his own determination through hashirama’s - hashirama was willing to throw everything away for the sake of the village (”even my own child”) and madara knows that he can’t go back now. he still admires hashirama! he’s steeled himself to his goal. he’s taken hashirama’s flesh and now we know he’s taken his words, too, because he repeats them verbatim to tobirama. we even see him talk about an aspect of this in his speech to obito - when he’s talking about winners and losers, he’s talking about the fact that hashirama was forced to kill madara by this hell world and the circumstances that they found themselves in! if they lived in a perfect world both of their goals could have coexisted - but of course, they live in hell, so hashirama had to kill madara. i think madara admires hashirama’s RESOLVE at this point; madara thinks hashirama’s just deeply misguided (thinking the village will lead to peace; the village will lead to dark ess, etc.) i don’t think madara saw hashirama clinging to the village as abandoning their plan just bc madara never fucking TELLS him his plan lmao. this guy absolutely refuses to fucking communicate at ALL - and i think part of that is that he knows what he’s going to do is stupid and probably won’t work, and he knows it’ll ruin his life trying to achieve it. i think he’s sheltering hashirama from it deliberately. if he makes hashirama betray him, if he makes sure hashirama stays in konoha and stays focused on the village, that leaves madara to be the sacrificial pig that will go achieve eternal tsukyomi for the both of them. madara definitely considers his work an extension of hashirama’s, so i think i’m solid with this analysis, lmao.

 so why is he quoting the speech to tobirama? bc i think madara, even though he was understanding about why he died, was still not happy that it happened. i think he holds a lot of resentment towards tobirama, for a lot of reasons - none of which are super important to madara anymore by the time the shinobi war rolls around, but that old resentment is still there nonetheless. he obviously hates him for killing izuna. i think it wouldn’t be farfetched to say that he probably resents tobirama for even being hashirama’s brother - he is the “correct choice” that hashirama can make, after all. he gets to live in the village, at hashirama’s side, he gets to become hokage and watch his students prosper in this town that madara and hashirama bled for. obviously, madara could never have had what hashirama and tobirama had, just because the relationship between hashirama and madara was never sheer brotherly love, and because madara simply isn’t hashirama’s brother. but resentment doesn’t really follow logic all the time. not to mention, i don’t think it’d be too far from canon to say that tobirama probably feels the exact same way, in reverse - even though he gets to live in the village and watch his students grow into shinobi, and even though he “wins” by enacting all the policies he wants, and even though hashirama chose him and the village over madara when it came down to it - there’s probably still that little spark of doubt. because what if madara hadn’t forced the issue? what if he had let things simmer on their own? there would be a conflict, definitely - if we’re going off of the way things were in canon, madara’s presence in the village would have sparked some kind of fight sooner or later. there would have been contention over the role of hokage, or the role of the uchiha in the village, or madara’s presence in the uchiha clan itself - any number of these things. at that point, who’s to say whose side hashirama would take? if madara hadn’t straight up attacked with the kyuubi, if madara was “playing along” with the village project… i don’t know! i feel like there’s about an equal chance of him going either way. and i think the thought of that would stick around in tobirama’s mind, even when he’s wrist-deep in an autopsy on madara’s corpse.but back to why madara’s saying this to tobirama - i think tobirama is a much easier vessel for madara to pour all his blame into. he can channel any sense of betrayal he felt over his death (understanding why something happens doesn’t always make it easy to swallow) at hashirama’s hands into his hatred of tobirama, because tobirama is, more or less, responsible for the village turning out the way it did, for good or evil. tobirama was one of the founders! he had just as much influence on the destiny of the village as hashirama, and since madara can’t bring himself to actually resent hashirama for killing him (see above), he unloads on tobirama as a hashirama stand-in that he can actually hate.