#har-grief

[har-grief]

Under The Weather ~ Allison Hargreeves

A/N: Thanks so much for the request anon, I really hope you see this and like it! I'm feeling very ill today so this seems like the perfect opportunity to write some sickness comfort. Also the ending is really bad so I'm sorry 😭

Summary: Allison helps you recover from a cold, and unspoken feelings surface as she does.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: None, I think.

Pairing: Allison Hargreeves x GenderNeutral!Reader

"Why did you have to go out into the rain without an umbrella, huh?" Allison demanded, shoveling Diego's homemade soup into your mouth.

You swallowed the warm liquid, the tingling sensation dancing in your throat and prompting a sudden, unexpected cough that caused you to spit out the soup all over Allison. With a sigh, she cleaned it off herself with a tissue.

"Klaus said it'd be fun to play in the rain..." You mumbled, your voice low as you took another tissue to dab at Allison's soup stained shirt.

"If Klaus told you to jump off a cliff, would you?" She prompted, rolling her eyes as you nodded.

"Yes, mom."

"Shut up and eat your soup."

Handing you the bowl, she stood, tossing the used tissues into your bedside bin and making her way to your bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" You asked, eyes widening at the thought of her leaving.

"To change my shirt, since somebody decided to spit soup all over this one."

"I didn't do it on purpose, I'm sorry. Don't go." You pleaded.

"I know, but I'll be back in literally a minute okay?" She negotiated.

"Then I refuse to eat." You placed the bowl on the bedside table.

Allison internally cooed at how adorable you looked with your pouty face and your arms crossed over your chest as you challenged her. Externally, she groaned in an effort to make you quit being stubborn.

"Don't be childish, Y/N."

"I don't want to be alone."

"I'll send one of the others to keep you company."

"I want you."

"I have to change."

"You can use one of my shirts."

Allison's eyes widened in surprise. The Y/N she knew would get extremely annoyed whenever anybody borrowed her clothes, always arguing that it felt too intimate to share them. Even you looked shocked at your own words, but you didn't take them back.

"Okay..." Allison agreed after a moment's silence, cautiously walking over to your closet and opening it.

"Pick whatever you like..." You murmured, avoiding her gaze.

She settled on a plain sea blue t-shirt, and neatly plucked it out of your closet. She moved to unbutton her stained shirt, but paused when she met your eyes. You respectfully shut them and turned your head away.

"You can look now." Allison told you after about half a minute, and you obeyed.

"You look good," You truthfully admitted with a smile, "you should keep it."

That statement further added to Allison's shock, but she didn't show it, instead coming back to rest on your bed and finish feeding you the soup.

"Do you want some more?" Allison questioned once the soup bowl was empty.

"No, that'd mean you'd have to go to kitchen. That's another minute without seeing your lovely face." You winked.

"Did Diego put drugs in this soup when he made it? You're so bold today!" She chuckled.

"I can do whatever I want when I'm sick without consequences, so I take advantage of it." You replied with your own laugh.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, you sat up straighter in your bed, your eyes trained on Allison's own as you felt the intensity of the eye contact.

Suddenly she leaned forward, and got closer... and closer... and closer. Until your lips met and moved in harmony. Then you recoiled with a gasp, and Allison thought she messed up.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I love-"

"Allison, I love you so much, but did you have to do this when I have a cold? You'll get sick too now!"

And get sick she did. What a lovely period of sickness it was. Full of hoarse giggles, sneeze filled laughs and sleepy kisses as you both cuddled the cold away.

#allison hargreeves #allison hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #tua #number three #tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy oneshots #tua oneshots #allison hargreeves oneshots #number three oneshots #har-grief

[lewishamil10n]

really sorry to everyone if i've missed your texts or DMs, i'm trying v hard to stay afloat but most of my mental energy rn is going towards being functional. i love you all <33

#grief sucks so fucking much and its so hard to like. explain. and its hard not to feel like im somehow doing something wrong #i know im behind on answering texts n DMs and i feel so fucking bad like i swear im not being distant on purpose #im just.... trying v hard to cope but it's really fucking har #hard* #remy.txt

[faofinn]

No.6 "Do or die, you'll never make me, because the world will never take my heart."

@whumptober-archive

Recording | Made To Watch | "It should have been me."

A follow up to something we've not posted, around the anniversary of Fao's accident (as well as Hars' and the death of Marcus) Hars falls back into drinking and using his painkillers a little too much...

Harrison hadn't long been discharged after his relapse and poor oramorph dosing. Tai had begged him to stay at his place, promised him rides to and from his place whenever, but he needed him to stay. He'd had a small withdrawal in the scheme of things, and he was slightly grateful it had been so mild. Of course, it still took it all out of him, and with the next lot of anniversaries coming up, he didn’t have anything left. 

In the end, he'd given in to Tai. It was the best option he'd been given; Steve would be at work most of the day, as would Fao, and he'd spent too many breakdowns at the Daniels to spend another. Tai hadn't run during his breakdown in hospital, and, as stupid as he knew it was, he almost felt like they'd become stronger together.  Besides, he liked Tai's company, his boyfriend managing to make him laugh even when he was at the bottom. 

Tai had had holidays to take regardless, so happily took those to stay off with Harrison. They'd chatted more when they were in hospital about everything, though he could tell that Harrison had censored most of it. So, of course, Tai had planned the week out - duvet days and favourite films, takeouts instead of cooking, just lazy days together. Harrison hadn't been allowed to see the full plan, but the fact Tai had even just taken the time off work meant the world to him. Emergency meds had been prescribed, just in case, and Tai kept them safe. They'd picked up everything they needed from Harrison’s, but Tai had also bought soft pjs and snugly socks for him too.

All of Tai’s little touches almost overwhelmed him; nobody had gone so far, done so much like this for him. They settled on the sofa together, Tai wrapped around Harrison and a daft film playing in the background. Food was ordered and eaten, and Harrison was, surprisingly to him, feeling a bit better when he finally drifted off.

Tai was so, so glad to have Harrison at his. It had been a whirlwind of emotions, hard to fully understand, but he knew that his boyfriend was safe and on the road to recovery, and that was what mattered. There were still things left unsaid, but there would be time for that. When they fell asleep in bed that night, Tai held him close, running a hand through his hair and promising him under his breath that he was always going to be there for him. He waited until he was sure Harrison was asleep before he finally let himself drift, warm and comfortable. 

Harrison had expected a night of no sleep, just tossing and turning, but with tai by his side, somehow he didn't. It was the sun that woke him, the room starting to get bright. While his first thought was Marcus, that it should have been him with him, it was Tai as he curled up again, Tai he wanted. 

Tai woke when Harrison did, humming softly. “Hey, good morning.” He greeted softly. 

He pressed closer, skin against skin, just breathing in his scent. His attempt at a greeting was half-hearted, somewhere between a hum and grunt.

“Sleep okay?” He asked. “I figured we could stay in bed for a while.”

Harrison nodded against his chest, reaching his hand out to trail his fingers across Tai's bare skin.  "I don't want to move." 

“Let’s not, then.”

"I need to go out."

“Oh?”

"I'll just go myself, though. It's fine."

“No, it’s okay. I’ll drive you. When do you need to go?”

"You don't know the way."

“I’m sure you can direct me.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh, defeated. "Okay."

“Are you wanting to go now? Or stay in bed for a bit first?”

He wasn't sure he could manage it right that moment. "Later."

“Later.” Tai agreed. “Don’t know about you, but I’m pretty comfy.”

He absently traced his fingertips over pale skin. "I'm home."

“I hope I’m always home to you.”

He tipped his face up to kiss him softly. "Me too."

Tai smiled against his lips. “You’re pretty special, you know  that? I’m lucky to have you.”

There was a sadness to his eyes. "I'm not, you know that."

“You are.”

He shook his head, kissing him gently again. "Don't be daft."

“Always daft. But I’m telling the truth.”

"Thank you."

“You want bacon for breakfast?”

"Prefer you." He muttered before his brain caught up, guilt flaring. "Yeah, bacon."

Tai laughed. “Oh, it’s like that is it?”

He hummed with a shrug. "Maybe."

“Tease.”

"I'm not the tease."

“Oh, that’s fighting talk.”

"Not looking like you." He trailed his fingers further down. "Especially topless."

He laughed again. “Well, it’s warm having you on top of me.”

"Oh, so my fault? I can leave if you're complaining."

“Never said it was a complaint.”

Harrison still pulled back from Tai, mischief in his eyes. 

“Hey, come on.”

"What?" He feigned innocence. 

“Come back.” He said with a pout. 

"Make me."

Tai sat up, leaning forward to cup Harrison’s face and kiss him.

Harrison grinned into it, his hand moving to rest on Tai's hip. It was lazy and relaxed, just what Harrison needed to take his mind off things. 

Tai melted into Harrison’s touch. He knew full well that Harrison probably wasn’t in the right headspace for this, but it was nice to show him he cared, that he still wanted him, after everything. 

He pulled back with a sigh, brushing a strand of hair from Tai's face. "I do love you, you know?"

“Of course I know.” Tai said softly. 

"I didn't do it because I didn't love you." Harrison couldn't meet his eyes. "I know I've said it before. I know it doesn’t make it better. But, it's true."

Tai sighed, his thumb stroking Harrison's cheek. "I know."

He leaned into his touch, letting his eyes close for a moment. With a shaky sigh, he kissed Tai's hand. "I wouldn't hate it if you drove me. But…but it's for Marcus, it's the anniversary of his…his death. I always go."

Tai could tell Harrison was close to tears, his heart breaking at the shake of his boyfriend’s voice. He swallowed thickly, though felt out of his depth. "I'd be honoured to take you. Do you take flowers?"

Harrison sat up, drawing his knee to his chest. "Sometimes. Sometimes I take some jammy dodgers, he loved them. And then the letters I've written him."

“We’ll go via the shops, then. Grab some stuff.” Tai decided. 

He managed a smile, falling a little more in love with him. "Thank you."

“And we can get some stuff for us, too.”

"Yeah."

“Whatever you fancy.” Tai said, kissing his forehead. 

They didn't stay in bed too much longer, swinging by the shops before heading to the cemetery. It was a little bit of a drive, Harrison was quiet on the way, and Tai didn't push it. He couldn't imagine what he was going through, and he didn't begin to pretend. He rested his hand on his thigh as he drove, hoping it would be of some comfort to his boyfriend. In response, Harrison rested his hand on Tai's,  saying nothing but appreciating it all the same.

When they arrived, Tai found a parking space, and then looked over at his boyfriend. “Do you want me to wait here? Or come with? I don’t mind.”

"I, uh, I don't know." He'd never had anyone like Tai with him; Steve had brought him when he was still recovering, but then he'd always been alone.

“Why don’t I come, and then if you want to be alone you can just say and I’ll go back to the car.”

"Thank you."

He shrugged. “No need to thank me.”

"There is."

“Just doing the right thing.” Tai said, getting out of the car. He offered Harrison a hand once he was out, making sure they had the bag of stuff, and then he let his boyfriend lead the way. 

Harrison didn't say anything as they walked, gripping Tai's hand. He appreciated the support, more than he'd expected, and it choked him up more than he'd thought it would. 

Tai didn’t say anything either, not sure exactly what to say. He let Harrison lead the way, and as they arrived at the grave, and he hesitated. Did Harrison want him to come closer? Would he rather have a little bit of space?

"Can I have the bag?"

“Yeah, of course.” Tai said, offering it to him. 

"Thanks." He took it awkwardly, taking a moment. "Could, uh, could I have a minute?"

“‘Course.” Tai said, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

"Thanks." He repeated, padding over to the grave. 

He struggled to his knees and then sat, brushing a small piece of moss from the headstone. He pulled the flowers out, settling them in the small cup, making sure they were neat and tidy.

"Hey, Marcus." His voice cracked. "Tai drove me here today, you’d like him. Fao likes him, and Steve too. He bought the flowers for you, had the shop assistant go and find some biscuits too, you should have seen him. He was adamant we weren't leaving until I had them for you.

"I fucked up the other week, you'd have been so mad at me for it, told me to not be so daft. I didn't mean to start drinking again, but it was just too much and it was the easier way out." He took a shaky breath, tears falling. "I really fucking wish you were here. I really miss you. I don't know how I'm supposed to just keep living without you. You'd have done so much more than I have, I just fuck everything up. You should still be here. If I'd been a bit slower, you'd still have been here. It should have been me."

He could barely catch his breath between the sobs, and the guilt about their accident was only made worse by his want to be held by Tai, not Marcus. He turned to his boyfriend, stretching an arm out for him. 

Tai had walked a little way away, giving Hars the space he needed. He stayed close enough just to hear his voice, but not what he’d said, and he’d been looking at his feet in the grass when he heard Harrison’s sobs. Looking up, he frowned, noticing how he reached out for him. He was immediately on his knees by his side, wrapping his arms around him. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

He fell into Tai's arms, gripping tightly onto his hoodie. He didn't say anything, didn't bother to try, just let himself be held, breathing in Tai's scent. 

“You’re okay, it’s okay. Just breathe, I’ve got you.” Tai rubbed over his back soothingly, his heart breaking for him. 

"It should have been me."

“Hey, no.”

His shoulders shook with each sob. "It should have."

“No, no. He wouldn’t think that.”

"But I do."

Tai moved to kiss his forehead. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad I get to love you.” 

#whumptober 2023 #no. 6 “Do or die you'll never make me because the world will never take my heart.” #“it should have been me” #fic #oc #whump writing #whump prompt #emotional whump #harrison cunningham #taidgh cole #hars x tai #implied alcoholism tw #alcoholism tw #inappropriate use of opiates tw #death of a partner tw #grief #anniversaries #dead partner tw #hars and fao have a lot in common lol #tai is a sweet one

[howifeltabouthim]

His mind wobbled, shying away from the fact that there was no longer Fergus, and that these thoughts of future tennis parties dated from yesterday, and were subterfuges, meant to keep other thoughts at bay.

L.P. Hartley, from The Harness Room

#loss #denial #avoidance #in denial #unbearable #grief #quotes #lit #words #excerpts #quote #literature #l.p. hartley #the harness room

[tellmegoodbye]

I've had some time to collect my thoughts after a couple of days so here they are even though nobody asked.

I really loved the finale. It was devestating, no doubt, but I think this is their best one yet and I absolutely loved how they handled it. There was so much grieving in this episode, not just from Carlos, but from Owen and Judd as well. But despite everything they chose happiness and the wedding ending up being beautiful and bittersweet and joyful all at once.

There has been the question of deleted scenes but there's really only one we've seen so far that I would have loved to see in the episode. Other than that, I'm just glad we get to have them all as extras. I don't think the wedding needed them though.

Another thing I'd like to add is that yes, sometimes storylines can feel rushed in shows where you have a lot of characters and especially if there are clear favorites within a fandom. There was a lot going on, but that doesn't necessarily mean any one character's storyline is less valuable than another's. I guess I'm speaking as less of a fandom member and just more as an enjoyer of the show if that makes any sense. I love all of the characters in this show, and while I would be lying if I said I liked every single storyline, that doesn't mean I wish they didn't happen. In this case, however, I loved all of the storylines and I think they all made sense together given the theme of this episode. I personally don't think any of them shouldn't have been there in favor of getting more wedding content.

Honestly, my only regret is not getting off of tumblr as soon as the final bts stuff started coming out. I'm pretty bad when it comes to guessing things so if I hadn't been aware of the theories I literally would have had no idea and it would have hit me so much harder. It still got me pretty good though.

Again these are just my opinions so feel free to ignore everything I say if you didn't feel the same. I'm happy though, and I'm going to continue being incredibly annoying about this show. ♡

#I'll just touch on this in the tags cayse more people have put this a lot more eloquently than I could #but in terms of the decision to kill of gabriel I know a lot of people feared two things #1) it was too close to the wedding 2) potential future storylines would take a hit #and if it had happened any other way I would have agreed with the second one #but the fact that we got that scene between him and carlos was really important #and they way it happened really opens the door for revisting this in the future #I would honestly be really surprised if they don't come back to this mystery because there's a lot of potential there #and speaking of potential I think we reallly started to see so much more of carlos and a side of his character that we've never seen before #him dealing with his grief and in the end chosing to allow himself to have his wedding #that moment between him and owen #I loved all of it and I know in shows like this it can feel like characters start to get stagnant but this is definitely not the case here #not just carlos but everyone else had moments this season that just showed us so much more of them #and it makes me excited for their character development and what future storylines will hold #anyway I think those are all of my thoughts #if you're going to say anything please be nice I don't really do well with negativity #I usually stay out of fandoms for actively airing shows because discourse isn't great for my mental health #but since y'all are like 90% lost shameless mutuals and 10% bots I feel safe enough to share my opinions publicly lmao #har rambles #911 lone star #weewoo rambles

[nc-vb]

Sigh, I look real cute today and I'm stuck in the office...

#that's my grief of the day so far #it is only 11am. #so many more opportunities to moan and groan about life har har har #such a shame. #✦ nc vb.

[queerbuckleys]

brb listening to kelly's cover of happier than ever and seeing god

#like fuck #like the original is filled with a particular kind of anger and angst #but kelly harnessed that fuck you energy of a certain type of grief and heartache #and its so fucking good #kelly also just holds a special place in my heart

[akajustmerry]

watching white people prostrate themselves like "oh my God how are we meant to continue on knowing there's a literal genocide?!?" is so frustrating. I know they mean well and it's honestly so heart-warming that people are waking up to the anti-colonial fight. but I need white people and non-Indigenous people to understand that your friends of colour, and especially your friends who are Indigenous, have carried the grief and anguish you're feeling for their whole lives. "intergenerational trauma" aren't buzzwords. It's this. It's that rage, hurt, and anguish that we carry from our parents, grandparents, great grandparents because they went through some kind of genocide just like these. so it's only by sheer luck we exist at all and we're born furious from it. because we live in the world so many white people are only just now seeing. we've lived in it our whole lives. "how are we meant to continue on as if everything's normal?" sorry but this is normal. This has been normal for a very long time. but I'll let you in on a secret, if you figure out how to harness that anger sustainably into action, this doesn't have to be normal.

#/ #colonialism

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?

(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)

I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent

★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.

★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.

★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.

★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?

★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.

★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.

★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.

★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something true so you don't question his bullshit.

There's a list of things he's told you!

If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.

There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.

Birds aren't real.

When he was your age he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)

Caine is the tooth fairy.

★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.

★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.

★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus fandom #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc #tadc x reader #tadc jax #tadc headcanon #tadc fanfiction #jax #jax x reader #jax fanfiction #digital circus jax

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 6

Part 5

Most of the time, being the son of Batman was a point of pride for Damian. Today, it was an exercise in frustration. Not only had Father deemed him too emotionally compromised to participate in the investigation of his so-called brother. Not only was he benched from patrol until Batman returned from abroad. He also had to continue attending school as if nothing had happened! He could probably teach most of the classes better than the adults! Oh, but ‘socializing with his peers’ was deemed too important to miss out on.

No wonder Damian was in a foul mood when he returned home. It had been the last school day before fall break, and a week ago he had been looking forward to the opportunity to patrol without having to worry about getting up early in the morning. Then that damned apparition had dropped the bombshell that had upended all of Damian’s carefully laid plans. Now half of the family was off chasing leads and he was stuck at home cooling his heels. It wasn’t fair!

After doing his customary check on his pets, he had changed into training gear as soon as possible and was now in the process of running through the latest combat program Father had designed. The flow of dodge-weave-counter-strike was helping him vent his frustration and clear his head. And if the training bots ended up more damaged than usual, well that just served Father right. He wasn’t some hapless child to be grounded!

Spin. Strike. Jump. Slash. He was moving on instinct, letting his training take over. A symphony of violence the background track to his churning thoughts, the questions that had been plaguing him all week.

Brother of blood. What did that mean? A full brother? A half brother? The result of some ill-advised dalliance of his Father? Unlikely. The letter had been addressed to Damian Al Ghul, not Damian Wayne. A deliberate choice of words, most likely. A child of his Mother then. He couldn’t imagine Mother would sully herself with another man’s touch. Even after everything, she still loved Father in her own twisted way. Unless Grandfather had ordered her… Stop it!

Stab. Crouch. Roll. Slice.

Never buried but already mourned. Not a lab grown creation then, to be discarded casually. Mourning meant caring. Love. Did Father know something? The haunted look that had appeared in his eyes spoke of old grief. The same grief that still plagued him when memories of Todd or Damian’s death were close to the surface. But he had never spoken of another child. Would he even bother to tell them?

Strike. Throw. Close distance. Disarm.

Lightning and ice. Defibrillation? Some horror movie style reanimation? Cryofreeze? The entity had meta abilities, could it harness lightning and ice as well? A better son, a more powerful Demon’s Heir… No!

Side-step. Kick. Twist. Leg-sweep.

Strike down the Demon’s Head. Did that mean Grandfather? Or Damian himself if the old man died first? It would be just like Grandfather to arrange for Damian to be killed and replaced by a brother. To get revenge for Damian choosing Batman’s legacy over the League’s while hurting their family in the most intimate way possible. Killed by a brother he should have loved, who should have loved him… Fool!

Damian stopped as the gong sounded to mark the end of the program. Around him, the training bots returned to their starting positions, now significantly worse for wear. A few of them were disabled to the point of uselessness.

Damian sheathed his weapons and forced his breathing to slow as he started his cool down stretches. It wouldn’t do to be careless because of some emotional episode. He was more disciplined than that.

What could Death earn anyway? Death brought nothing but nightmares and pain and torment.

Damian shivered. He didn’t like thinking about his Death.

Shoving the memories firmly aside, he returned his training weapons to their respective places before heading over to the Batcomputer. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should call up Jon and see if he had any plans for fall break. Since Damian was benched he would need something constructive to do with his time. Surely with the two of them working together they would find some kind of criminal enterprise to topple in a Kansas cornfield.

Damian compiled the search strings for any unusual activity in the area and set it to run. Now it was a waiting game to see if anything of note turned up. Leaning back, he idly kicked the console, sending his chair into a lazy spin. If nothing turned up in Kansas, maybe he would widen his search to the surrounding states. If they flew Air Superboy, distance would hardly be an issue. Hell, if Jon was busy maybe he could go visit Richard. Bludhaven was never lacking in crime, and Father wouldn’t be able to complain about a lack of appropriate supervision during patrol. With Drake and Todd having left on a ‘roadtrip’ for at least a day…

Damian stopped his spinning and frowned. Now that he thought about it, it was highly unusual for his two older brothers to have left Gotham together and in their civilian identities. Especially with the Bats already shorthanded due to Father’s absence and Robin’s benching. He had been too distracted by the upcoming school day to make the connection when his brothers had mentioned their plans at breakfast that morning. And Drake had been investigating League activity… Damian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing Drake’s security protocols with ease. If his brother had uncovered a League connection he had a right to know!

What he found among Drake’s recent search history was not what he expected. Some crackpot scientists from Illinois? That’s what had drawn his attention? Certainly, the older Robin had flagged some suspicious transactions and marked the Fentons as potential threats based on their inventions, but there were heroes closer to Amity Park that they could have foisted the investigation off on.

Damian drummed his fingers against his armrest. Something wasn’t adding up here. Pulling up everything he could find about the Fenton parents, he started looking through medical records, school records, articles… Suddenly, Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs. There, on the cover of a two year old magazine, was the face that had haunted him all week. With trembling fingers, he zoomed in on the image. It only took a few minutes to alter the hair and eye colour. It was unmistakably him. The boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Damian himself, if slightly older and paler.

Swallowing hard, Damian scrolled through the magazine’s online archive to find the article mentioned on the title page. An almost extinct gorilla species. A chance discovery by then fourteen year old Daniel Fenton.

“Daniel,” Damian rolled the name around his mouth. A fairly common Western name. “Daniel. Danyal?” If he was Talia’s son, surely she would have used the Arabic version… no! He was jumping to conclusions!

Now having a name to go on, Damian dug deeper than Drake had bothered to. The birth certificate named a small town in Utah, but there were no records of a hospital admission. A home birth? There were no records of the Fentons having a residence in that state. No medical records of prenatal care either, though there were for the birth of the older sibling. Had the pregnancy gone unnoticed? Possible, if unlikely. There had been a vehicle registration for a motorhome during that time period though. Had the Fentons been living on the road when their son was born? Or had they acquired the child some other way? If he was an Al Ghul who would have spirited him away to the USA?

The Fentons had settled down in Amity Park about six months after Daniel’s birth, purchasing the residence they apparently used to this day. From there, his records were fairly standard and unremarkable, though there were a higher than average number of doctor’s visits for minor household accidents. Not enough to get flagged by CPS, but certainly worrying if potential mad science was involved. Daniel’s school records showed average grades, with higher scores in Maths and Science. At age fourteen however, his academic performance took a sharp dip, with an uneven performance on tests and numerous unexcused absences. His teachers noted frequent inattentiveness in class or Daniel outright falling asleep. Someone had submitted reports of bullying and suspicious bruises, but the case was dropped and never followed up on. His grades had evened out since then, but the unexcused absences persisted.

Damian knew enough about the trials and tribulations of teenage superheroics to recognize a pattern. And it certainly looked like Daniel fit the bill. If he had acquired meta abilities two years ago it probably took some time to get a handle on them and find a balance between his legal and illegal activities.

Damian steepled his fingers together. There was only so much his digital investigation could reveal. It was time for some fieldwork.

Part 7

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #damian wayne #robin #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right) #no beta we die like danny #damian snoops on tim's browser history #and gets more than he bargained for #damian thinks he would have made a good brother #and having a brother would have made his childhood less miserable

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

#♡ — anon visit. #✦ — headcanons. #✦ — fluff. #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe #childe x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #signora #signora x reader #sandrone #sandrone x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #pulcinella #pulcinella x reader #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #columbina #columbina x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #pierro #pierro x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader

[zylev-blog]

Time travel AU featuring Bart + Danny

The reach had taken over the planet. The Justice League had lost a long time ago, and had been killed. The ghost army had also been defeated, and things were grim. This had led to their current predicament: building a ghost portal so they could go find the being known as Clockwork, who was their last hope. If they couldn’t find Clockwork, they truly lost. Earth would be lost. And Bart didn’t want to admit defeat yet.

“No no, you’re swapping the wires.” Danny huffed, taking the wires from his hands.

“I’m not even sure this junk is going to work.” Bart sighed.

“My parents used to make fully functioning guns with scrap.” Danny responded as he added the wires to the wiring harness, “I’m hoping I can do the same.”

“Hoping and working are two different things.” Bart pointed out.

“Look, I died in a portal made by my parents. I know what they look like and how they work. Even before that, I helped them build it. I know what I’m doing.” Danny didn’t look at him as he clicked everything into place.

“I hope so.” Bart’s voice was quiet. “A lot of people died to get the ectoplasm stores from the Reach’s vault.”

Danny didn’t respond at first, only looking away from him with grief written all over his face. The silence stretched for a few minutes before Danny responded with a quiet, “I know.”

Danny got out of the wall and pressed a few buttons on a nearby pin pad. “Let’s go through this again.”

“I know what’s happening next.” Bart rolled his eyes. “If Clockwork lets us go back to the past, we pose as tourists. It’s just a good thing I’m related to the Flash, even if I’ve never met him.”

“Yeah, and my parents aren’t friends with Batman yet with how far back we have to go. I don’t think they’ve ever met yet.” Danny crossed his arms.

“We’ll be fine.” Bart wasn’t sure if he was convincing himself or Danny.

Danny started the portal, and it hummed to life. Green sparked in the middle as the fabric of reality tore open. Both Danny and Bart watched, transfixed, as green swirled around the inside of the portal.

“Yes!” Danny exclaimed, and high fives Bart.

That’s when they heard it. Reach ships were getting closer to their location. He heard the telltale sign of explosions getting closer and closer as everything in their area was destroyed.

“In! In!” Danny exclaimed, starting the self destruct sequence. Bart wasted no time and sped into the portal, and a second later, Danny appeared behind him and the portal closed. Well, it looked like they had no choice now but to go forward.

#dp x batman #dp dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp crossover #danny phantom crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #time travel #bart allen #danny is so done #danny fenton

[hazeldragonblossoms]

aita for trying to summon a god to resurrect my wife?

i (142m) recently lost my wife (139f) to terminal illness. we were married for nearly 127 years, and were survivors of a disaster that destroyed our home city and killed nearly everyone in it. she was my best friend, the love of my life, and the light of my world. i’ve spent months trying to move on, but the pain of losing her has only grown stronger since her death, with my grief eventually leading me to quit my job and travel in the hopes of finding something else to live for. i will be upfront in admitting that, in the process of quitting, i blew up the school i worked at (no one was hurt), almost killed my assistant (he’s fine), and released a bunch of monsters from the abandoned gated community i had contained them in a few decades prior (long story).

anyway, during my travels i came across a relic that contained immense necromantic power, but i quickly realized that i would be unable to utilize it for my purposes on my own, as my wife had been dead for several months by that time and was well past the point of resurrection by conventional means. long story short, i decided to harness the power of the same god that caused the disaster that destroyed my and my wife’s former home.

as it turns out, my former boss (????m) picked up a kid (13x) off the street around the same time this was happening, and tasked my brother (also 142m, we’re twins) with teaching them magic. i won’t bore you with the details, but this thirteen year old now keeps following me around and fucking up my plans to reunite with my true love, which i’m frankly tired of.

(side note: this kid also won a fighting competition that hasn’t been won by someone from our school since i attended. i need to remind you, they are thirteen. i’m not certain they’d ever used magic before my boss picked them up, so i have no idea how this possibly could have happened, or when they had the time to even attend the fights since they’ve seemingly dedicated the majority of their time to fucking me over for no good reason.)

my ex-boss seems to think that summoning this being is a “bad idea” and could “destroy the world,” but 1. i’m doing it in my already ruined hometown and 2. i think that the world is a small price to pay to have my wife back. it’s not like it’s worth much without her in it, anyway.

edit: shut up about the fucking giant tree it’s an unrelated current event. you can’t prove that i actually did anything to him, and it’s rude to accuse people baselessly

#hi. this one is sillygoofy #wizard101 #w101 #wiz101 #wizzy101 #wizzy fandom #malvia #sylvia drake #malistaire drake #cyrus drake #merle ambrose #hazel speaking #m drake #s drake #c drake #ambrose #also i made up the ages and couldve donethe same for ambrose #but i think it’s funnier if mali just doesnt know how old he is

[howifeltabouthim]

They were all, more or less, in tears, beside themselves with grief, but Fred, with manslaughter in and on his mind, manslaughter of perhaps the only human being he had ever really loved, suffered more than they did. They had each other; he had no one, except the dead body behind him, at which he dared not look.

L.P. Hartley, from The Harness Room

#guilt #accidental death #lost love #star crossed lovers #grief #bereft #on your own #bereaved #quotes #lit #words #excerpts #quote #literature #l.p. hartley #the harness room #loss

[scarletwitching]

In What If…Wanda Maximoff and Peter Parker Were Siblings? A Scarlet Witch & Spider-Man Story, the fabric of reality is altered once more, and this time Wanda Maximoff, AKA the Scarlet Witch, hails from a distinct corner of the Multiverse where her origin story gets a unique twist. All Wanda has ever known is her friendly little neighborhood in Queens. As an infant, after her parents died, she was adopted into a family where her doting Aunt May and Uncle Ben will always be at the breakfast table. One that includes her idiot brother, Peter Parker, who thinks hiding a spider bite, joining a secret fight club, and becoming a super hero are somehow good ideas. When Wanda’s own powers emerge, blood, chaos, and suspicion follow in their wake. But as she harnesses her power under the guidance of Doctor Strange, Peter is standing beside her in the Sanctum Sanctorum. And as they try to protect New York City, the Parker siblings learn that with great powers, there must also come great responsibilities—and greater loss. Reeling from tragedy, Wanda finds herself truly alone for the first time in her life. Peter is lost to his own grief, and so she must strike out on her own. But on her first solo outing, she runs into a mysterious speedster—a man named Pietro. And everything she has ever known shatters like glass. Faced with unbelievable truths, Wanda is forced to choose between the life she knows and the life she could have… (x)

#scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #spider man #peter parker #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #doctor strange #prose #seanan mcguire #what if

[luna-rainbow]

On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness

Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.

Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.

Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.

But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.

Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."

So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.

In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.

What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.

At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."

It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).

When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?

"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."

He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."

When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.

The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.

But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"

Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.

When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.

And that dream dies with Bucky.

"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.

He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.

His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.

And he is denied even that.

He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.

But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.

A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.

He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.

What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.

Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).

He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.

He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.

"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.

The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.

He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.

Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.

It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.

"He doesn't know you."

"He will."

He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.

And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.

Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.

"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."

Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.

Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.

That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.

So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.

And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.

#steve rogers #steve rogers meta #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky meta #long post #this got away from me and is super long sorry #anti endgame #as always