#readapt

[djaerin]

' don't talk about me like you might know how i feel. '

but he might. to speak about himself is something he does not do, not for a lack of wanting but more from a lack of habit. found by the mandalorians, made to be a warrior, his identity was a thing to be forgotten, his past buried like his face. helmet put on, din djarin was to be forgotten. but he couldn't, a red fabric and a necklace, hidden away, the lines that don't belong to him he tries to find the few times he meets his reflection.

there is something about the man's past, something he's trying to forget too, someone who taught him how to deadly : you always have to leave something important behind, death demands a price for its secrets. ' to become a warrior is to sacrifice, we often sacrifice the same things. ' head slightly tilts, letting the silence rest between them. din is not one to assume nor to make small talk but there were things that seemed to make @readapt less attentive that he used to be. and so he had said something.

[downfll]

' i have done bad things. i can't take them back, and they are part of who i am. '

there's a silent agreement between them she feels, something about his identity being known but not discussed. a desire to appear normal she guesses, something about this place maybe a bit like peace among the chaos for him. so she smiles and does small talk, she lets the hints and mistakes roll off, never picking them up to gather the truth. it does not really matter, she does not really matter in the intensity of his life, a friendly face at most.

still, there is surprise as he speaks, never having been so forward about his past before. her past traumas save her though, the way she's so tense because always ready for the unexpected allows her feet not to stumble, her smile not to falter. deer like eyes evade his as she opens a beer for him, head slightly tilting, ' we've all done bad things, ' it seems like lana cannot escape her mistakes and errors, all that guilt that weights her down, every mistake collected like pebbles. a shrug, ' i don't know, maybe what matters is if we feel bad about it, if we learnt from them. ' teeth worry the inside of her cheek, digging in the flesh of it, she's pretty sure she hasn't learnt a damn thing since she still finds herself right there.

having a stupid crush on someone that won't ever give a shit about her and she knows, rationally SHE KNOWS, it wouldn't even work.

[wrathbit-arch]

HE THOUGHT IT WOULD HAPPEN in the midst of violence. that their bond would tether, connect, form an understanding in the fury & fists. it's not that they fight each other, it's that they understand the fight. peter comes crawling in with new horrors, while bucky wakes in the night from more than either can count. except it starts in the laundry room. mundane, scent of detergent, the rattling of change in one of the washers.

peter doesn't have a lot of friends. he keeps his circle close, partially out of fear & mostly because it's already been pruned. the people he touches are marked for death, one way or another. it scares the weak away. ( keeps him alone in the darkest moments. )

so here, on the apartment fire escape, after a day of walking around & showing an old man some new streets; it's quiet, & it's not bad. he hears the TV from an apartment somewhere above them, the bustle of creaking wood & footsteps. cars at the lip of the alley.

@readapt says : ❛ you know me. i don't let my guard down for just anyone. ❜

peter nods before he understands the words, then glances unsubtly at the other man. for just anyone, as if peter is special, & a small part of him very loudly wants to ask how long that'll last. bucky'll find something annoying eventually, some piece of peter that's too tiresome. another, familiar part of him smothers that moment of weakness. this is a good thing, after all. & he needs to stop making it about him, peter.

❛ so . . . what's this, level ten friendship ? do we get to share our traumatic backstories now ? wait, sorry, i dunno if you'll get that meme. ❜ man, if he could say something right that would be awesome.

[lovemaim]

@readapt ft. bucky!

❝ you can tell a lot about someone by the way they fight. ❞ you'd think his childhood was to blame - it usually was - for this kernel of insight, but really, he'd picked up this particular skillset from his time in the ring. when a single jab-cross could be the difference between a championship belt and falling on your ass, you learned to pay attention to the little things. some guys fought for the love of the game - putting on a show, playing with their food, savoring the journey. others fought with brutal efficiency. for them, it was about the destination - the sooner they got there, the better.

and some - people like diego - fought because they had no other choice. because they needed it. because it was the only thing that had ever worked. ❝ you throw punches like you've got something to prove. ❞ pot, meet kettle. he'd had something to prove his whole life. leaving home should have helped - escaping the hargreeves mold, the number that had been his identity, was still his identity - but it hadn't. no matter how many assholes he took off the street, the work was never done. most nights, he was glad for it, the consistency of it all. always a new ghost to chase.

at least he wasn't the only one. if there was a part of him that had missed being part of a team, he'd sooner drop dead than acknowledge it. but as far as company went, he could do worse than the winter soldier. fresh off another reluctant team-up - the second this month? third? - he casts a sidelong glance at his fellow mask. ❝ could be wrong ... but i doubt it. ❞

[downfll]

' i just want you to believe me when i tell you you're worth something. '

gloved covered hands, watchful eyes, a regular that looks nothing like the sort of people that comes to her workplace. @readapt makes her cheeks warm and her heart trips sometimes, her laugh is louder when he's there, her eyes a bit brighter. it's the stupidest crush she's ever had and boy did she have stupid ones. but he talks about his neighbor with stars in his eyes and there's only happiness for him at the thought, her own disappointment one she is too used to to actually care about it.

lion wrinkle they call it, the dip between his brows when something tugs at his brain, when seriousness is to be conveyed. lana usually finds it endearing but his words are too earnest, too close to a truth she would never admit out loud. not good enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough. lana is never enough. there's a study that shows that, if you speak badly and regularly to rice grains, they will turn black, they will spoil. she thinks they all are rice grains at the end : if you hear enough time how bad you are, you can only be that.

furious blinks, pushing away the emotion that threatens to spill from her eyelids, eyes dart away to her hands polishing a glass. the smile can't be helped, depreciation and disbelief in its curve, ' you don't even know me. ' and she rakes her brain, trying to find something else to say, to redirect the conversation away from the open wound that is her heart.

[downfll]

' someone needs to be looking after you. '

steve remembers hours spent in bed with only @readapt by his side, remembers him being there when his ma died, remembers him finding him a date, kicking idiots' asses when he couldn't finish the job -- which was every time to be honest. bucky has always been looking after him, friendship is not owing one another but there is a debt there that he cannot ever repay. even when he had nothing, he had bucky.

there is guilt weighing him down, leaving a sour taste on his tongue, remembers reaching for his friend and finding empty air, a fall that lasted seventy years : one that he could have prevented if he had been more like bucky, BRAVER, STRONGER, BOLDER. but steve let bucky down and that's on him.

now he has a chance to be there for his best friend, for his last remaining family. and if it means letting go, if it means not being by his side to ensure his safety then he will do it. bucky has sacrificed a lot for him, steve feels like this friendship never cost him a thing. ' you've been looking after me my whole life, buck. think it's time i look after you now. ' there is a smile, one that he offers with complete sincerity.

what they forget about him is that he is steve rogers before he is captain america, he took the serum because he didn't like bullies, strength was a way to stop them, it never was the goal. there is no way on this earth steve would leave bucky to the wolves, not when there is a fighting chance, especially not when all hope is lost.

[serendpitous-archive]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIZ 🥳💜 i hope you have the most wonderful day, ilysm!! <3

AHHH thank you so much rey ILY 💜💜💜💜

[toprey]

whether careless or naive, cruel or kind, mari has no interest in being dumb. has never played the part of useless. even at her worst, flailing against the straightjacket of life, she'd had her place. her reasons. her purpose, for better or worse, bracketed around her ribcage. spattered across her face. (if functional, if practical, then, mechanized. a clockwork machine, jutting and jerking and thrumming to life, and put to work ... but, alive, nonetheless.) now, her likeness is a life-wire. a sparkling bane of existence. she's a firework, a spark-line, a candle burnt at both ends. never stagnant, never safe, never slow. quick, and not quite painless. built to last. surviving, whatever the cost may be.

and the cost has been high. hues of red, gradients of gore, hands dip-n-dived through the dangers of criminality. a ticket to nowhere, trailed in blood. bucky would know enough about that— an overlapping line that keeps them tethered. oscillating around their throats, tempting at their veins, mangling their speech until it turns wary. [go here, do that, hide there; load a gun, sheath a knife, square up and shake it off: look over your shoulder once. count every exit twice.] mari would prefer to name it meticulous, but they both know the score. tallied up, it takes their names to front-pages and back-alleys. brought to headlines and spewed through mouths. it is what it is. they don't fantasize about what it's not.

BUCKY BARNES [@readapt] : "what if you were followed?"

for every purpose, comes pain. for every piece of protection, comes paranoia. mari scoffs, as bittered as much as he's brotherly, and shoves a bag off of her shoulder. tosses it onto the nearest table. "who do you th — think i am?" the words are spit, but there's no heat. (not truly, not really, because for all the safe-houses and swift-kills, bucky's the only place she's called home.) "i'm not an idiot." a glance stabs his way, annoyance clear cut in her features. a pause filters through the space between them, her hands moving to shed an oversized hoodie from her form. her cheek sucks between her teeth, bitten away at for a moment before a huff blows through her lips. "i checked, okay? took several different r — routes and everything. —jesus, you'd think it's my first fucking rodeo." she shakes her head. "now, will you relax?"