#so he signed a legal document that said you could die in this thing

[firstkillers]

Anyways this whole submarine thing has proven that people on this site aren’t actually able to commit to eating the rich.

#oh no there is a 19 year old on there #he’s a little itty bitty kid who has no thoughts of his own #so he signed a legal document that said you could die in this thing #fuck that #he’s 19 rich kid #he knows exactly what he's doing #they made their decisions to go into that death tube to go to a mass grave of working class and immigrants #these billionaires have contributed to the climate crisis #the so called kid #would have one day also have become another rich person sucking the life out of the world #so fuck him and fuck the rest of them #let the sea take their souls #it is their retribution for the souls of immigrants and working people they have taken #oceangate #titan #titanic

[bipabrena]

Because We’re Family (Kenny-Levi-Erwin centred fic) chapter 19.

A fic where SNK is rewritten from the start. Kenny steps up as a parent for Levi. Many years later, Erwin accidentally crosses paths with Kenny, the one ghost of his past, and blackmails him and Levi into joining the Survey Corps. Because of his relationship with the Reiss, Kenny has vital information about humanity, and he makes his own deductions that will change everything for the story. All canon arcs will be rewritten, until the time to fight the outside world comes. Main pair is eventual Eruri (huge enemies to lovers). Read here.

They could hear the soldiers working, even from up here. Without an upcoming expedition to train for, the soldiers had to focus on more menial work. Today, a section of the barracks commuted from the gates to the mess hall. The shipments of food for the next three months had arrived, and it was hefty work to unload everything from the multiple wagons. 

Kenny watched them aloofly from the window. 

They will all die, he thought. It could be in a year, five years, or perhaps not in their lifetime. But their children could be killed, or their children’s children, and so on. Many generations may pass before that day comes, but it was a fact they would die.

This world will crumble, Uri and Frieda had said. And the First King corroborated it.

The Subjects of Ymir. They had to pay for whatever sins the Eldians of the past committed. The outside world will pay whatever violence they ever inflicted ten times in turn.

His sombre eyes did not waver as the voices in the room grew increasingly louder. Despite being right next to them, he couldn’t make out what Erwin and the others were saying. A disagreement, perhaps. Either way, his mind was not in it. He couldn’t focus and, frankly, unless directly addressed, he didn’t care. 

He brought his fist to his lips, eyes still focused on the soldiers that carried dozens upon dozens of crates with flour bags. 

A hand touched his shoulder. It took him one, two, three seconds to react. He looked back to find Flagon, who seemed a bit too grim. There was also a certain gentleness in his eyes. He’d sure mellowed down to him in the last two months, Kenny recognised. “You can move ahead, pack your things and do what you want until midday. We’ll finish up here.”

Kenny briefly glanced at the working soldiers one last time and left the room without a word. The silence with which he left lingered in the air. The remaining men were reluctant to break it.

“I think we’re ready,” Erwin said later as he took a final glance at the documents. 

“Then we’d best move on now,” added Lutz with urgency. “Kit and Soren need us, and we have a regiment to save. Commander, is there anything else?”

“No, that will be all. Make haste. I’ll stay here, as we still need a backup plan,” Shadis said. “I already have a meeting set with a financial and legal advisor. Like Dorian said, we must be prepared for the possibility you won’t get this done in time.”

The soldiers all seemed to agree, but a loud sigh brought their attention to Dorian.

He reluctantly placed his file on the table. “Commander, I’m… sorry, but I can’t do this.”

Their brows rose.

“I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t sign up to deceive a fellow soldier by using his child, regardless of who that soldier used to be. And we don’t even know what he might do to get the information, since the stakes are so high for him. People may get hurt, and I can’t be a part of that. I have a few days off accumulated and I request to use them in the following days.”

Erwin and his friends could only be astonished by this. By the looks of it, so was Shadis.

“Section Commander,” Erwin intervened, “I apologise for my impudence as I do not intend to question your authority, but we could use your help for this. It’s for the greater good of the regiment.”

Flagon and Lutz silently agreed. Having their Section Commander would make them feel a lot safer. He’d always taken care of them, after all.

“I stand by my words and have no further comment to add,” Dorian replied.

Erwin didn’t seem to like this.

“And no further comment is required,” Shadis spoke after a brief silence. “Take your time off, Anja will take your place in the headquarters for now. This is a good time for anyone hesitating to back down from this.”

From the rest, the only one who seemed unsure was Flagon. His brows were furrowed, and his lips tight. He was clearly very tempted to back down.

He slowly moved to place his folder on the table, but gave his friends a final glimpse. He watched Mike, the calculated Erwin, and the frowning Lutz. From them all, it was Lutz with his pitiful eyepatch that affected him the most.

He couldn’t bear to leave his best friend. 

He stopped and held the folder to his chest. Erwin let out a silent breath of relief. 

Dorian waited no further and, visibly disappointed with not only Flagon but also the rest, left the room.

“Very well,” said Shadis. “You may leave now. Get ready, wait for Kenny and go. Keep me updated and, above all, stay safe.”

“Sir,” they saluted.

They individually went to their rooms to pack their belongings. Essentials, their documents and a gun each from the armoury. When they were near the gates to await their carriage, they perked up cautiously when Kenny and Dorian crossed paths from afar.

“Are you not ready to leave yet?” Kenny asked, luggage in hand. “I was told the carriage would arrive at noon. I didn’t take ya to be tardy.”

“I will not be partaking in the mission.”

“... Because?” asked Kenny when silence lingered. He wondered about the frown on Dorian’s face. 

“I…” Dorian’s eyes moved down. “I, uh…”

What he was struggling to say didn’t seem to be easy, Kenny noticed. Like it weighed on him. 

“I… I, I…”

“Well, don’t pop a vein, will ya?” Kenny jested, although his face was perfectly serious. “See ya, then.”

Dorian watched him saunter away, and he surprised himself when he reflexively called Kenny’s name. Kenny turned to look at him, waiting.

Don’t go. We’re lying to you. We’re lying. 

Dorian wanted to say it, he was struggling not to, and Erwin could tell. Should he intervene?

“Be careful,” is what Dorian managed to say. 

Kenny said nothing, his gaze simply lingered on Dorian a few more seconds, and then he left. He did appreciate the concern, however. Dorian had always been kind to him and Levi.

He reached Erwin and the rest, but did not greet them. He remained in silence, eyes in the distance, as he patiently waited for the carriage. The others didn’t dare speak. They couldn’t, and even when it arrived, and they were safely on their way to the river canal, they still didn’t manage a word. 

Kenny seemed too calm, they individually thought. He even seemed to be enjoying himself when he produced a book from his bag and he read away.

They couldn’t tell whether this was good or bad.

When they reached the river canal, they sailed because it was the fastest mode of transportation. They reached their destination in under two hours. They disembarked and hauled a carriage to midtown. Erwin’s throat clenched as he walked out of it. The last time he’d done this, everything had gone wrong. Kit and Soren had arrived hours later, only for them to be taken from him, now held off who knew where.

He wasn’t alone now, though.

He felt at ease when seeing Lutz, Mike and Flagon by his side. The world seemed to get much smaller, however, and the air seemed to feel much tighter, more constricted as Kenny was the last to leave the carriage, pressing his hat with one hand as he walked out. His presence seemed to dwarf everyone else's, even when Mike was by far the largest and tallest of the group.

The initial plan had been to check at an inn with strategic positioning, although one different from the Aquatic Pub. Erwin didn’t want them to stay in the same tavern Ennis had already busted them in. So, they wanted one that was strategic, but Kenny had been quick to shut this down.

“We’re staying at my old place,” is what he stated. His tone made it clear he wasn’t suggesting or negotiating.

“Your cabin?”

“No,” Kenny was quick to respond. “Home is sacred, ya don’t let filth in it.”

Funny, Erwin thought. Levi had been quick to tell him the same thing when he’d asked to be let in his room.

“No, we’re going to my old place. In the Underground.”

They all stiffened immediately. Lutz gulped heavily, clearly more taken aback than the others. He absolutely did not want to return to that place. 

“May I ask why?” spoke Erwin.

“It’s just better,” is all Kenny said. 

He began walking with purpose, and the others were reluctant to follow. When they realised Kenny would move on with or without them, they felt they had no choice. Erwin was the first to move, and by reflex the others followed.

They entered the Underground and reached his old home without issues. Even here, the strongest gang would think twice before taking on five large, strong men who walked with purpose and straight faces. From the would-be robber’s perspective, there was a chance they could all be armed. So, an attack was highly unlikely.

Kenny felt a sense of nostalgia as he turned the lights on. His eyes centred on the whisky table, where he’d usually sit to drink and read, then lingered on the living room where the table would usually be crooked so that Levi would have space to train and practise his moves.

It was all perfectly organised now. As clean as any home that had been left unattended could be, but it wasn’t soulless despite the lack of inhabitants. 

“It’s… a lot nicer than I thought it would be,” admitted Flagon.

The other men ambled around the place, not quite finding themselves.

“We’ll need to do some light shopping, as there’s nothing to cook, and we can’t rely on inns for every meal,” Kenny instructed. “Some of us can head for the markets whilst the rest stay cleaning up. There are still some supplies around here.”

“Good idea,” said Erwin. “Let’s divide the chores so we can get to work.”

Mike and Erwin would shop for supplies. Food, a few pots and pans and some cleaning supplies. Kenny guided Lutz and Flagon to the nearby well so they could haul water for both cleaning and consumption. He then left them to their devices, excusing himself for unmentioned reasons, whilst they all kept themselves busy.

Kenny briefly considered the possibility the soldiers could come across Guinne. They wouldn’t recognise him, as from what he’d been told, Guinne had been masked when he’d attacked them, but Guinne would certainly recognise them. 

He wasn’t sure whether he should pay him and Moritz a visit to give them a heads-up. Frankly, he was a little lost right now.

Something gnawed at him. Clearly, the soldiers weren’t telling him everything. It was simply so weird for Levi to disappear like this. Somehow he recalled the Ackerman persecution. With enough firepower and men, he understood Levi would be forced to submit. The Ackermans were nearly driven to extinction for that reason. They’d been overwhelmed despite their strength. But Kenny had been a special case, he’d adapted beyond what any other Ackerman ever had. Even as a child. He was so sure Levi would be the same, especially with Kenny’s training. 

From what they told him, the innkeeper had told Erwin they’d gone along willingly. What exactly did Ennis, or his men, tell them so they came along? The threat they’d shoot up the place? He understood Kit and Soren would comply, their duties as soldiers would compel them to. But Levi? Surely he could easily sneak away.

With enough threats to innocent life, would Levi submit? Somehow, Kenny was a little afraid to admit he doubted it. 

No matter. Those were questions he’d make once he had Levi safe and sound. Yes, that’s what he should be focusing on. Just find him. How he got caught is meaningless. 

Just find him.

By the time Kenny was back home, the place was clean and smelled of smoke. Mike and Lutz were working on a meal, simple and not great, and as tasty as they could make it in a place like this. A bubbly potato cream soup with hot crusty bread that was much too stale, and a side of greens. No different from what they already ate in the military, Kenny was disappointed to find.

It’s not that getting used to this food was hard. Not quite. He’d gone hungry for over a decade of his life; he knew what it was like to starve. Still, for a shorter but still considerable chunk of his life he had been used to fancy, delicious foods cooked by the best offered within the Walls. And, after moving out of the Reiss Estate, he’d eaten very well in the time he lived in the cabin with Levi. Levi loved to cook, and Kenny enjoyed doing it alongside him at times. It was a great skill he’d picked up thanks to the Reiss chefs once he decided to shape up for Levi. Going back to eating bland food, well… he wasn’t a fan, but he wouldn’t repel it, either. Fuel was fuel.

They sat down to eat with little conversation, and after Erwin and Flagon finished cleaning up, they all got to work.

They spread their documents over the living room table, and they all huddled around it to discuss their plans of action. First, they of course needed to know their enemy. Once they did, they’d have to think like their enemy to anticipate their moves, and plan appropriate responses. 

“The man we’re up against is called Ennis Vernier, the man you encountered that night, Erwin,” said Kenny. “He’s Lovof’s head of security and without a doubt the one in charge of the entire operation.”

Erwin found this curious. Ennis seemed so young the night they met, he wouldn’t have imagined he’d be something as important as head of security for a duke. 

“I’d wager since Erwin slipped from his grasp, he’ll be on the lookout for new faces in the interior. He’ll know the Survey Corps won’t give up so easily, but also won’t be so stupid as to send the same person… although, to be fair, they did. He most likely has sentinels placed all over, hence why Kit, Soren and Levi were captured so quickly. The truth we’ll have to face is that, no matter where we go, we’ll have at least one person following us or listening to us. So, we have two ways of doing this: Either we gather real evidence like you want to bring Lovof down, or we simply play the game and force him to back down before the Faction Leaders and the Commander-in-Chief.”

“And how do we play the game?” asked Erwin.

“We don’t have enough time to play fairly. We go straight for where it hurts Lovof; his kids.”

“Wait, what!?” Lutz cried out. “What do you mean by that?”

“We take his kids, obviously,” said Kenny. “Ennis is certainly working behind the scenes, doing far more than… whatever he’s doing to Levi. And Kit and Soren. If anything, that’s a job for his subordinates. If I had to guess, they’re alright. Ennis would be more focused on gathering additional information on the Survey Corps’s response to this.” 

“You’re not actually asking us to kidnap children, are you?” Flagon’s throat clenched. 

“I'm not asking you to, but I also couldn't give less of a shit how you feel about it. By taking the brats, Ennis will be forced to put whatever he’s doing on hold. His job is to protect everything Lovof owns and loves. Cantaceres means nothing if Lovof’s children are unsafe, and the second they are, it’s Ennis’s job to retrieve them.”

“How many?” asked Erwin.

“He’s got tons of brats, but there’s two who are his favourite,” he raised two fingers. “He’d risk anything for them.”

“We won’t be hurting them, will we?” asked Mike warily. 

“‘Course not,” said Kenny sincerely, although a bit too aloofly for their liking. “Unless he doesn’t comply, of course. Then we rearrange some faces or perhaps mail a few body parts. Relax,” he said when Lutz produced a wail. “It won’t come to that. He loves those brats, it’s probably his only redeeming quality.”

“This is no time for sentimentalities,” Erwin reminded curtly when Lutz and Flagon frowned hesitantly. “If Lovof loves his children, we won’t have to hurt anyone. The faster we can get this done, the better.” He looked back at Kenny. “Where do we find them?”

"I can’t tell you that. I’ll be the one to retrieve them. In the meantime, you’ll scatter across Sina to look nice and pretty. We’ll need bait, so you must dress up in the Survey Corps uniform.”

“Wait, are you sure?” Mike’s brows creased. “The whole point of the operation was to be inconspicuous. We shouldn’t be hanging a large sign on our backs.”

“Wrong. You absolutely should hang a large sign on your backs. Like I said, Ennis will be on the lookout for the Survey Corps’ response to this. The faster we can lure his men to us, the better.”

“And what if Ennis anticipates this?” asked Erwin. “He figured me out in a flash. I’m sure he’d anticipate this.”

“He absolutely will, but he’ll still have no choice but to dig in. It’s true our main mission is to make Lovof back down from Cantaceres, but whilst we do that we also have to get Levi’s and your men’s whereabouts. The faster we do that, the better. I trust I don’t have to explain to you what you must do should you lure and capture some of their men.”

Lutz and Flagon gulped heavily.

“You don’t,” said Erwin. “We’ll get it done. I presume in the meantime you’ll retrieve Lovof’s children. Will you bring them down here?”

“I will. And then Lovof will come looking for them.”

“I have a question,” chimed Lutz. “When we go above ground, what exactly do we look for? Erwin said Kit and Soren asked around in the skid rows and, well, look what happened. I know we’re bait, but what do we do? The same as they did?”

“Like I said, your job is to look pretty. You’re bait, that’s all you are. If you can best their men, that’s fine, but I’d prefer it if you got captured.”

“H-hold on, what!?” Lutz shot up from his seat. “No way in Rose’s name, uh-uh! I’m not getting captured to be tortured by anyone! I’m here to rescue the ones getting tortured! I can’t do that i-i-if–”

Kenny was unimpressed by the outburst. “Flagon, please control your woman.” 

“Lutz is right to be concerned,” Erwin said, “getting captured isn’t an ideal thought for us.” Lutz seemed happy Erwin agreed that this madness was unacceptable. “But do quiet down, Lutz, please.” 

Well, he didn't agree, it seemed. Lutz whined huskily with impatience. “I can’t believe we’re actually considering this!”

Flagon tugged him so that he sat down, which he did.

“Why must we get captured?” Erwin asked. 

“Because I want you to lure their men. When Ennis went after ya, it must’ve been to get information on what you had, not just through interrogation. Tangible evidence. Documents. Things you very much have. He’ll want that.”

“And you want us to lure them here?”

“That’s right. At least one of you. If the rest get captured and sent to their hideout, that’s fine, so long as one of ya manages to get ‘ere.”

“But what if you get here with Lovof’s kids? His men will be here and–”

“Yes, they will. What about it?”

“H-hold on,” Flagon defended himself, “I know it sounds like a stupid question, of course it’ll scare them to see their Duke’s children kidnapped, but I mean what if that doesn’t work somehow, and they shoot without asking questions?”

“No need to concern yourself with that. Just do as you're told.”

“You’re asking us to get kidnapped here, man, come on! At least tell us your whole plan!” Lutz’s hand shot up.

“No.”

“Huh!? What do you mean no!?”

“I mean no. Goddamn, you’re annoying. Just get captured, it ain’t as bad as ya think.”

Lutz wailed in complaint. 

“If we manage to subdue his men first, do we take them here?” Mike asked.

“Yes.”

Erwin was wary of Kenny’s secrecy. 

“What should we expect?” asked Mike. “If we capture them first or if they capture us. Besides the mission to catch you, we’ve never done any operations against humans. Now this with the Ennis guy, it’s–”

“And how did you catch me, exactly?” Kenny asked curiously. “The whole secret thing. Who told you that?”

Mike suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“That’s not what we’re here to discuss,” Erwin came to his aid. “Mike’s question is a good one, however. What do you reckon we prepare for?” 

“For someone to approach you or try to kidnap you. Dying is something you won’t have to worry about yet, I’d wager.”

“We don’t?” Flagon raised his voice, sounding relieved.

“No, he won’t kill ya. He’s too smart for that.”

“So, while you retrieve Lovof’s children, we should just… go around the interior luring them to us?”

Kenny was growing irritated. “Yes, how many times do I have to say it?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Flagon waved his hands. “I’m just nervous.”

“You won’t die and you probably won’t get tortured, not too badly.”

“Not too badly…” Lutz mumbled. “God, I hate this so bad, I want to go home. I don’t like this place,” he touched his eyepatch. “I hate this place. Why can’t they just leave us alone? Fuck, I hate… oh, fuck…”

He placed a hand on his chest as his breathing began to accelerate. Recognising what this meant, Flagon immediately placed himself across him. 

“I know,” Flagon cooed. “Breathe slowly. Count out loud.”

Lutz complied. He slowed his breaths and counted each one. He began trembling.

“Five,” said Flagon, and to this Lutz said, “Friends.”

“Four,” said Flagon, and to this Lutz said, “Warmth.”

“Three,” said Flagon, and to this Lutz said, “Crackling fire.”

On they went. When they repeated this, Lutz’s answers became a lot more descriptive.

Kenny’s brows creased with curiosity. “What’re they doing?” 

“Lutz suffers from panic attacks,” Mike said softly. “Has for a while now. It was never easy to calm him at first, but we found a little method.”

“The 5-4-3-2-1 method,” Erwin chimed in. “It’s a grounding exercise. When we notice the first signs he’s going to have one, one of us tries to ground him in the present moment, so he can focus. It involves all five senses. Sight, touch, hearing, smell and taste. With deep breaths, he must decreasingly describe something he’s asked. So, five things he can see, four that he can feel, three that he hears and so forth. If he can’t focus and see, feel, hear, smell or taste anything, he can just describe his favourite things for each sense.”

Kenny’s brows rose. “Does it always work?” he asked as he watched Flagon stand before Lutz, guiding him without crowding him.

“If we catch him like this when it’s about to start, it does, yes. When it has already started, it’s trickier, but helping him with his breathing normally suffices. The important thing is to give him space and not overwhelm him, hence why only one of us should step in.”

Kenny’s eyes narrowed slightly. That day… he thought.

The deafening shots. The screaming. The feeling of warm blood pooling underneath his bare feet as waning, dying eyes stared at him. 

He’d had to run as fast as his feet could carry him, along with the girl who barely held his hand, as though she’d lost life of her own. All whilst hearing the derisive laughter in the distance, mocking them, expressing they’d get them, too. The voice that had joyfully shouted to release the hounds. 

The sound of the barks, the vicious barks. They’d run for so long their feet had bled.

How many times had Kenny had to ground Kuchel? When he wanted to break down, too, but couldn’t because he just had to be strong for them both?

He’d never broken in his life. Maybe that’s why he hurt all the time.

No. Don’t think about that, not right now.

He silently moved away to give them space. He didn’t want to pretend to read the documents or any of that shit, so he simply poured himself some scotch to drink. He sat at the counter to wait. 

Truthfully, he was a little taken aback by Erwin’s expression. It was soft and gentle. Not to mention the juggernaut Mike, who was usually so stoic. Then, shortly after, it seemed Lutz came back to them. He opened his eye. He glanced around in recognition of his surroundings. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, to which Flagon nodded. He seemed very embarrassed and awkward when his reluctant gaze met Kenny’s. He held the back of his neck. “Err… I’m sorry. I know that was unpro–”

“No words are necessary. If you’re feeling better, we can get started.”

Lutz nodded.

“Shall we meet down here to discuss the day’s proceedings in case we find nothing?” asked Erwin. 

Kenny gathered his things. “Sure, sure. One of ya can stay behind to look after the place if ya want. Four days is what we’ve got. That’s plenty o’ time.”

Without further words, he left the house.

Erwin squinted at the door. It was then Mike sighed. “What is it?” he asked. “I know that look.”

“He’s being so secretive. I wonder what he’s hiding.”

“That’s rich,” Mike said sarcastically.

Erwin was surprised by how much his comment had bothered Mike. They shared a strained look while Lutz chugged some water.

“I don’t want to get captured,” Flagon spoke up, mostly to break the tense silence.

“Me neither. God, what if they take my other eye!? You guys always joke about that and now it may actually happen! God, this sucks !”

Flagon rubbed Lutz’s back with an amused smile. 

“I’m not sure whether we should–”

“Let’s just go along with what the man is asking,” Mike interrupted Erwin. “It’s the least we can do.”

Erwin didn’t seem to like this. More than anything, he was wondering why he’d irritated Mike so much. “There’s not much else we can do, realistically. I suppose we must lure Ennis’s men to us and see what plays out.”

“Should someone stay behind?” Mike asked, heeding Kenny’s words. 

“If we’re going to lure them to us, we might as well stay together. This place is safe on its own.” 

“Do you really think we can do this before the four days are up?” Lutz asked Erwin.

“I do now.”

Read the rest of the chapter at here.

#snk #attack on titan #levi ackerman #kenny ackerman #erwin smith #eruri #snk fanfiction #mike zacharias #aot fanfiction

[snakebites-and-ink]

Chapter 2: The Signing

Masterlist

Note: Westwater’s name is very tentative at this time because I was having Difficulty naming it and decided to just call it something I felt was okay instead of getting stuck on coming up with a name I really liked. 🤷

CW: Self-sacrifice, legalized slavery, referenced illness in the family

The day had come. He’d had another meeting and some email exchanges with Melissa, and gotten in contact with the organization that trained and sold superhumans. Everything was set up now so that Nolan could sell himself away to them.

Yikes. Selling his rights was a far cry from an ideal solution, but what else could he do? Nothing? Just stand by and let one of his loved ones die and all the others struggle? No. Not when he had the power to do something about it.

The particular organization in question was the Westwater Superhuman Training Institute; it was one of the closest superhuman training and distribution centers, and as legitimate as any other. Of course no organization that literally sold people would be perfectly nice and benevolent, but Westwater seemed upfront and reputable enough that they wouldn’t do anything exceptionally shady.

He’d had a conversation with his parents, which wasn’t easy but it had to happen. Nolan’s sister Sophia wasn’t really in a state to talk currently, but he’d left a message for her. He’d said goodbye to his close friends too, including his oldest friend, Cassian. Nolan hoped it would help ease the sting at least a little that this would secure enough excess money to give some to Cassian. There would be more than enough to go around even after Sophia’s treatments; superhumans were expensive. Maybe it could fund one of Cassian’s brilliant ideas, which he certainly had but couldn't get off the ground without some investment. Nolan had been told he’d have the chance to send letters at times during training, so hopefully he could at least keep in touch for a little while after signing.

Melissa was here again, to support and advise Nolan through this last stage of the process. “Are you sure about this?” she checked one more time.

“I’m sure,” Nolan confirmed.

The representative for O1 arrived, a man who introduced himself as Mr. Brown. He would be speaking and acting on the institution’s behalf during the legal process of Nolan signing away his rights. Melissa, on the other hand, would be looking out for Nolan’s interests, acting as a consultant of sorts to make sure nothing underhanded was pulled and to inform Nolan as needed on the somewhat weird issue of superhuman rights.

After a short exchange of pleasantries, the three sat down together, and Brown pulled out the paperwork.

Brown explained the paperwork to Nolan, while Melissa looked over the documents to make sure he was summarizing them accurately and truthfully. It was pretty standard for what it was; Nolan would give up his rights, become essentially property, get trained for a buyer, and get compensation given to whomever he selected, which was all in line with Nolan’s expectations from the research he’d done. Melissa nodded, verifying that the paperwork was legitimate. They conversed a little more to settle a few last concerns, then it was time.

Nolan picked up the document and was struck with a sense of finality as he stared at it. This would change everything about his future. He was giving up his life when it had hardly even started. But it meant his sister would get to live hers. Besides, he wasn’t dying, just losing a whole lot of options.

It was the least-awful course. Nolan signed.

He thanked Melissa working with him and for the help she’d been. She gave him a small smile that she clearly didn’t feel, worry and sadness evident in her eyes.

“Do you need to say your goodbyes?” Mr. Brown asked Nolan.

Nolan considered it. At this point, that would probably only make things harder. He’d already said goodbye and everything else he needed to in the very tear-filled parting conversation with his parents. Going back only to say it once more now that his choice was formalized and permanent would probably bring more pain than closure for everyone involved. He shook his head. “I already did.”

Mr. Brown grinned. “Wonderful. Come with me then.” He placed his hands on Nolan’s shoulders in a manner that seemed almost possessive, which Nolan supposed was appropriate given his new legal status. “Goodbye, Melissa.”

Nolan took one look back at Melissa as Brown steered him out of the room. He wasn’t quite regretful or frightened, but he didn’t feel ready for this. Not that putting it off would have helped; he didn’t suppose anyone would ever feel ready to lose their rights and freedom.

Nolan left his home for what would probably be the last time. He got in the car with Mr. Brown, to be delivered to his new life.

Taglist: @whumped-by-glitter

#I'm not sure how I feel about this but I don't see it getting any better in the near future so I'm just posting it. #Maybe the reason I'm feeling kind of bleh about it is just because I'm tired idk. #it's bedtime #I actually gave names to minor/side characters this time instead of just calling them things like “the man”! Are you proud of me? /lh #whump #whump writing #original fic #writing #fiction #oc #my writing #my posts #Technically Not Human

[silverspleen]

So Artoria died again, possibly permanently.

Basically we had to get an NPC (Zathrian) to talk to another NPC (The Lady of the Wood/Witherfang) about curing the werewolf curse in the forest, we were uh, trying to be a little sketchy and sus on the DL about it and he caught on and as a show of power basically blasted our assess with a level 8 meteor shower, and well… Art did not have great health at this time. And the meteor shower just charred her to oblivion in one shot. Insta-kill. Varand went ballistic and charged him as a werewolf and mauled him so strongly that he was at death's door, but still weirdly unfazed. Sethlos and Bhalkam negotiated with him on better terms (I'm not sure how, I know Sethlos must have been hurting), including Sethlos grilling him at weaponpoint about if he could bring Art back.

We pressed on and Sethlos did some incredibly intense negotiating between the two NPCs and managed to get Zathrian to feel a little tiny bit of remorse due to the fact that more dalish were being harmed from the curse (from one dalish to another, from one person who has lost a loved one to another), and they got together and removed the curse.

Except Witherfang asked Varand if he wanted to stay a werewolf, and he sort of reflexively said yes (he was still a werewolf at the time, just in case). She was like "it is a curse, you can control it but remember, everyone will vilify you" and whatever and Varand was like "ah yeah no one likes me anyway" (untrue! but his life already megasucks, so also being a werewolf is no big deal).

She also asked Sethlos if he wanted to revive Art, and asked him if she would really want to come back, or if she was resting with their gods. And Sethlos basically said that he couldn't forgive himself if he didn't try. It was a luck roll. The gm publicly rolled and failed. Sethlos' player activated one of his insane abilities that lets him rewind time and reroll any roll (at a "third time's the charm" risk of summoning something if he does it three times between long rests, it's his sentient magic book's thing, don't ask) and the GM failed the roll again. He did not summon any demons or spirits though. But still. Art is still dead. :(

I was wondering why Varand would choose to stay a werewolf, but I realized that being a werewolf probably reminds him of Art, since it was the last thing they experienced together and now every time he turns he'll think of her and I made myself sad. He managed not to go crazy the entire time he was traveling with her and Morrigan (only afterwards when Sethlos and Bhalkam showed up), and he probably credits that to their friendship, and now that he's completely lucid it's like, his way of permanently remembering her even if she can't get revived a second time. He'll carry that curse forever and he'll use it to help people if he can, for her. (and also like it does feel a little good to go nuts, to just maul a guy)

We're going to try to revive Art, our GM will give us options, but it'll also be harder since this is a more grounded setting, being Dragon Age and all. Meanwhile Art's player is going to roll a new character and hop in after next session (which he will have to miss anyway).

The last thing she did with her brother was have a genuine, heartfelt moment where she laughed at a song that Sethlos sang (in character, Sethlos' player actually sang a song with a kazoo horn and had us sign a very silly, not legally binding document that gave us all fancy titles) and it's very narratively impactful that she would die again at this moment but oough I am still gonna be sad about this for days.

Sethlos has Art's charred corpse, which he wrapped in spare clothing and vines and will carry with him probably forever.

#the dragoon diaries #dragon age #dragoons big dumb ocs #werewolf

[wisdomssdaughterr]

Ohh I love all of those theories!! I am also so fucking excited for the parent intervention! Like we really haven’t had it before. Even though Karen has been the most shown parents she still doesn’t know jack shit about anything. Okay I didn’t even think about them signing the documents and what that would mean for the parents. Honestly I have no clue how that works to be legal or not either but they most likely used the fact that hopper and Joyce were there to cheat out of that. Which actually that is making me kinda emotional now. Like you said they were 12-14 and they had to sign these papers and were being threatened. Like Steve was the oldest besides hopper and Joyce. Now I really wish we got a scene to see how they did everything with the documents and papers. Like did they each interrogate them individually or did they sign them when they were all together as a group? I think it’s something that wasn’t touched on enough how fucked up that actually was. Like yeah I get a lot of the concepts are fucked up in st but this also completely determined that they had to keep quiet otherwise someone could die. It was bad enough that they had to experience this (which would totally make them outcasts) but also it solidifies even more that they are outcasts. And that no one could understand. And you’re right how would the parents respond to this? Joyce was in the same group of people who found out so she was in the same boat as them. Although she was angry about it she couldn’t do a damn thing and react how a parent would. Especially because they already made her think her son was dead so like there has to be a thought somewhere that they could do it again. But yeah if the parents find out I want them to be so fucking angry. Like especially Karen because like you said brenner was in her house. How would she feel after all the horrors that he did become known to her? Especially because her children knew about it. Honestly I really just want their feelings surrounding the whole thing and then realizing that their children haven’t been their children for a while now. Because like they’ve changed so much and in a roundabout way they helped. They never asked any questions and they kept quiet even though they knew that they weren’t acting normal or they were acting suspicious.

The idea about the people outside of town coming is an amazing one. Because I find it hard to believe that neighboring towns didn’t have a clue what was going on. Like they obviously had to have seen the news. So out of town people coming and trying to figure out the mystery. Meanwhile the gang is fucking tense as shit because they know the horrors. They know the pain and death. They know that they have to act liken soldiers. And then people coming and making it seem like it’s one big puzzle to solve would annoy the crap out of them. They would be so pissed and maybe accidentally let something slip. They’re just so enraged that even after seeing the pain it caused everyone it’s just being written off as this mystery and as it’s something that someone would read in a book. Lol if you can’t tell I love the idea of them breaking under everything. But it’s just like the whole time they’re pain and heartbreak and nightmare has been written off as nothing from fucking everyone. They’re so isolated that they don’t know how to interact with others that much. They’re so isolated that they can’t even interact with their families in the right way. And I just want to see that build and build until someone breaks. I often think of Steve giving a speech especially if it’s too his parents mainly if we’re talking about the storyline about them involved in the lab. I’ve created the dialogue in my head sooo many times that I’m starting to think I have a problem lol.

Also yeah there is so much potential for Steve and Nancy’s dynamic. That would be so fun if they had a platonic version of hop and Joyce’s investigations. I also kind of want a scene like season 2 where Nancy had said that what Steve did with the kids was nice. Because it looks like Steve is in the more mature role she could say something about that to him like I appreciate you stepping up for all of us. And Steve also compliments Nancy and is like I’m glade you also have done this with me and that you’re a badass. Kind of just like they’re hyping each other up and realizing that now a lot of time is passed and they can love/be with each other platonically again. I think with everything they just focused on their romantic relationship so that would be great to see them recognize their friendship aspect and realize that they kind of forgot that they could just be friends.

You’re welcome and you’re so sweet!!

I'm finally getting to my asks, so sorry it's taken me forever. I've written like six essays in the past week for my finals and my brain felt like it was melting lol. But I am answering all of these now!

yes! I really hope we get to see at least some of the parent's reactions to the things their children know and what they've been through. like, I doubt they'll know the full extent of everything, but I think at this point they have to know something is up with their children and they want answers. I'm curious to see how the kids will navigate that as well. because like they know how dangerous it is for other people to get involved. the last thing they'll want is for their families to be wrapped up in the same mess their in. I also hope we get more karen involvement this season! especially with mike and whatever the cali gang's plot is, I hope we see her kind of force her way into things because she really cares about her kids so much and they feel so distant from her and she just wants to understand why :(

as much as the government wants to contain the mess that is hawkins, with starcourt I feel like that broke everything lose. it would make sense for neighboring towns to want to peer in hawkins and see what is wrong with that place. and I think it would make a lot of sense for somone to slip up this season. with the fallout from starcourt and everything that follows, it would make sense for someone to break and make some off handed, frustrued comment that makes things worse. like there were camera crews at the mall after the whole thing went up in flames, we saw it in the news clip at the end of season three, so it's not unreasonable to think that one of the kids or teens was caught leaving the mall and being one of the very few who escaped the fire. their parents have to have been contacted after that. I don't think they could brush off that night as another sleepover, right? and their parents believe it's just a mall fire so they obviously talking about the events with their friends and the gossip of the party being at the mall that night gets around town quickly. and then once the conspricies about what really happened at starcourt start rolling, they're lumped in with them, making them even more like outcasts. I think maybe one of the kids slips up to one of their peers who made some kind of shitty comment. I can see mike lashing out and instealy realizing he said way too much. they accidently add fuel to the fire.

yes yes yes! I want a platonic joyce and hopper meets divorced parents kind of vibe from them lol. like they still bicker but it's all friendly. I can see if steve takes on a more mature role this season that he and nancy may but heads, but I think overall there is a lot of potentials for them to just be friends! friends who fight monsters together

#answered ask #stranger things #st4 theories

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 9/2021) -        New Citizens

Ponk has a chat with Sam, Fundy and Purpled officially join Las Nevadas, and Ranboo receives an update message from the Council.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Fundy

Purpled

Ranboo

---

- Ponk continues building the bridge in his new valley

- He returns to Foolish’s summer home and finds the countersuit Puffy left. He reads it. Many of the claims he doesn’t think are actually against the law of the land. He insists he wasn’t quoting Roadtrip during his Banquet speech, but rather an old man

- Ponk will have the best lawyers (he also may pay the jury off but don’t tell anyone). He’s amused that Puffy would work with BadBoyHalo and call Ponk the ‘dirty Eggpire supporter’

- He finishes reading the lore suit and greets Purpled in chat, telling him that he’s getting sued by Puffy

- Sam logs on and Ponk takes him over to the valley. They’ve had their differences, but Ponk is in need of a good lawyer. Sam suggests Tubbo, but Tubbo is expensive and intimidating

- Ponk points out that Sam will be the only one in the jury with an elevated IQ like his own. Sam hasn’t been officially selected for the jury yet, and they might think he’s biased, having cut off Ponk’s arm (Sam says he did it for good reason)

- They reach the valley and Sam approves of Ponk’s bridge

Sam: “You can see Kinoko Kingdom from here.”

Ponk: “(gagging sound) No, you can see Niki’s place! Niki’s communist cult! It’s great! We’re gonna set up a nice trade agreement, and (mumbling) then we’ll burn Kinoko Kingdom down to the groun-- I mean, then we’ll have nice trade deals with everyone, you know?”

- Ponk is bitter about losing his arm and Sam blames it on him for stealing the keycards

Ponk: “Sam...just so you know, just so you know...You can come to me after...after everything. I will still support you, Sam, okay? You’ll have a place to stay, because, all the wrong you’ve done is gonna catch up behind you, you know? All the wrong that you’ve done--”

Sam: “I haven’t really done anything wrong.”

Ponk: “Haven’t you? Haven’t you?!”

Sam: “No, I think I’m a good guy.”

Ponk: “You think you’re a good person?”

Sam: “I don’t know, you don’t think I’m a good person?”

Ponk: “I mean -- my opinions are biased.”

- Ponk asks Sam to walk and talk with him on the way back to Spawn. Sam’s spoken with Purpled recently

- They visit the animal sanctuary and Sam suggests they steal the strider. Ponk tells him stealing is bad. Sam wants to let it out. They play with the strider a bit

- Ponk explains his conflict with Puffy in general terms

Sam: “Look, I have a random crossbow from one of those guys that we killed.”

Ponk: “You said that so casually...life is precious, you know.”

- Ponk asks about the bank. He’s free to work. Sam says it’s up to Hannah. The two discuss the bank system

- Ponk hasn’t seen Technoblade in a while. Sam thinks he must be overthrowing governments in a far off land or something

- Ponk offers to trade with Sam for two stacks of redstone blocks. He asks how much for his arm back. Sam says he destroyed it. Ponk is upset that Sam didn’t keep it, but Sam says it was too mangled

- Sam trades some gold for the redstone

- They fight a raid together and capture a Ravager

- The two continue to chat for a while

- Fundy stands by his bed. He had a great sleep! He dreamt about a Windows update and he’s looking...a little sleepy?

- He checks the to-do list. Today’s the day. He grabs some things for the road. Fundy decides he’ll go alone. He doesn’t want to risk losing his snow fox friend

- He says hi to his Aunt Panisha (a salmon in the river) as he sets off, asking her to wish him luck

- Fundy reaches Las Nevadas wonders where Quackity’s office is. After some deduction, he heads to the Needle and spots Quackity going up the elevator

- After some hesitation, Fundy goes up the elevator too and comes face-to-face with Quackity, who sees him and asks if he’s okay. Fundy says he’s doing fine, he had a weird sleep and may have woke up outside the window

- Fundy tells him that he took his advice and bettered himself. They sit at the table and Fundy shows him his new diet. Quackity says he’s proud of him

- Fundy mentions that last time they spoke, he suggested they play cards and back at home, he didn’t sleep because he was waiting for Quackity to come over...and then he didn’t

- Quackity explains he just had a bunch of paperwork to do

- Fundy spots some slime blocks bunched at the side of the room and asks what that’s about. Quackity says it’s “a friend” of his, that he’s probably asleep

- Quackity gets Charlie to emerge from the slime

Charlie: “Hey, Fundy from L’manburg!”

- He was in the middle of his gloop-morphosis. Fundy is confused at how he knows who he is. Charlie digs into the floor and gets Fundy to greet him, slurping up some slime

- Quackity tells Charlie he needs to speak with Fundy. Charlie says he can “sell it” and starts telling Fundy he looks like he wants to gamble. Fundy asks Quackity why he’s talking like this, and Quackity says he must have learned it from TV

- Fundy finds out that Charlie is incredibly old and asks Charlie about how he knew he was from L’manburg. Charlie declares them best friends

- Fundy tells Quackity that he’s changed, that he’s a better man. Quackity thinks it’s great, but he doesn’t want Fundy to portray a false version of himself

- Charlie looks at Fundy close-up and says he hasn’t changed

- Quackity doesn’t want Fundy to join under these conditions. Fundy insists he’s fine, he isn’t portraying a false version of himself

- Fundy’s lived in that cottage for way too long. All these nightmares are because of him interacting with people and he’s ruining it for them -- but ever since he’s improved himself and become more healthy, he hasn’t had those nightmares

- Quackity has thought about it a lot, and Fundy’s work in L’manburg was exceptional. He thinks Las Nevadas will be a stepping stone to Fundy’s success

- Charlie gets Fundy to smell him and asks him what it’s like to dream. Fundy sniffs and maybe swallows a piece of Charlie. Charlie tells him one day he’ll be whole again

- Quackity passes Charlie a bone of one of their “mutual friends” in L’manburg and asks Charlie to analyze it

- Quackity and Fundy leave Charlie in the Needle and go back down. Quackity brings him downstairs, where he tells Fundy there’s no going back. He wants to make sure Fundy can trust him and hands Fundy a book to sign:

---

All persons naturalized in Las Nevadas, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of Las Nevadas and the land wherein they reside.

The signing of this document subjects you to the rights and duties of the nation:

TAXES. Residents are required to pay a jurisdictional and financial charge to the nation to fund future projects and development of the nation. Failure to pay could result in the extinction of your permanent residence and possibly death.

MILITARY PARTICIPATION.  One of your duties as a resident of Las Nevadas is the complete protection of the nation. You’re required to participate in any wars, conflicts, or disputes of the nation, in favor of Las Nevadas.

LAND. One of your rights as a resident of Las Nevadas is a self assigned plot of land, approved by the proper authorities, to develop productive businesses, homes, entertainment centers, etc.

GAMBLING. Gambling is defined as staking of something of value, with consciousness of risk and hope of gain, on the outcome of a game. Gambling is completely legal in Las Nevadas, but subject to constantly changing regulations.

THE LV LEGAL SYSTEM ---------------------------- Las Nevadas and any disputes within the nation will be settled in the Las Nevadas court (TBA), with the presence of the conflicted parties, and the proper authorities.

FALURE TO RESPECT THE CONSTITUTION AND THE DUTIES WHICH ARE ASSIGNED TO THIS RESIDENCE WILL RESULT IN THE IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF CITIZENSHIP,  AND, IF GUILTY OF A CRIME AGAINST THE NATION, YOU ARE SUBJECT TO

DEATH.

SIGNED .  .  .

QUACKITY

FOUNDER AND PRESIDENT OF LAS NEVADAS

---

- Fundy is nervous and hesitates

Quackity: “Fundy, I -- You’re like a brother to me. We’ve gone through so much. But I still have to protect my nation...surely you can understand that.”

Fundy: “No, I -- I can. Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah, um...it’s strong...You really believe in this nation, right? It’s like your child--”

Quackity: “Fundy...this is all I have left...if this nation dies, I die along with it.”

- Fundy signs the document with his full legal name:

Fun Jonatahan Micahel Vincent Georgina James Sus Dy

- He signs the book, gives it to Quackity and asks that if he ever reads it, to not call Fundy by his legal name

- Quackity welcomes Fundy to Las Nevadas as an official citizen!

- Charlie has control over the piece of slime inside Fundy. He tells Charlie not to do that

- Quackity asks Charlie if he has a name. They decide to call him “Meat” for now, but Charlie tells Quackity in “secret” (very loudly) that he isn’t actually meat...he is slime from the ground

- Quackity suggests they call him Slime From the Ground. He then says he is bones

- He leads the other two to the edge of Las Nevadas’ road and points out that they have a big issue: Tubbo’s outpost nearby. Quackity suspects that Tubbo may be planning some dangerous strategy against the country

- Quackity gives Slime some armor to put on

Slime: “Ready for war...don’t take my music discs!”

Fundy and Quackity: “Wh -- what did you just say?”

- Quackity has an informational video he can show Fundy later. They investigate the outpost. He reminds Fundy about the military protection portion of the document

- Quackity remembers the Butcher Army and asks how much experience Fundy has with the military. Fundy was part of every single one that’s existed

- Quackity suggests they build their own version of the outpost

- Slime starts breaking Tubbo’s windows. Quackity encourages it and tells Slime it’s called “griefing,” handing him dirt to spread around the place

- Quackity finds the two Totems of Undying they have at the outpost and asks if they should take them. He then says they should test them. He doesn’t know what they do

- Fundy isn’t sure they should, or what Tubbo’s intentions are. Quackity decides to leave them unless Tubbo retaliates for the griefing

- They notice the bridge and Quackity suggests a tollbooth

- Quackity explains the concept of taxes to Slime, who’s been watching Purpled recently. Purpled hasn’t done much, just farmed 

- They start building the tollbooth and Fundy brings up how medieval castles used to have boiling oil above the gates that they could use if there were people they didn’t like, and they could do something similar

- Slime starts throwing slime and Fundy can feel it (and it doesn’t feel good)

- Quackity asks for the bone he gave back, but Slime can’t tell the difference between all the bones

- Quackity remembers how when L’manburg exploded, Fundy and Niki came up to him and said it was a good day...what was that about?

Fundy: “The way I saw it was, during that time, everyone was trying to divide each other, right. Everyone was trying to divide each other...every one was either left or right and there was no in between. There was no...People always wanted to separate themselves and make war and destroy everything that was loved. When L’manburg was a thing, I cared about L’manburg, and then it got destroyed, right, and eventually, my hope at that moment was...that people just like, accepted that they shouldn’t--”

Quackity: “But you betrayed the nation...Fundy, the thing I’m getting at is, I don’t know your excuse or your thinking behind that...that will not happen again at this nation. No betrayals, no backstabbing. Not here. Understand?”

Slime: “What’s backstabbing?”

- Quackity and Fundy try to teach Slime how to backstab, then how to work the tollbooth against Tubbo

- Slime starts putting buttons on the walls. Quackity tells him not to, as it gives him bad memories

- Slime asks Fundy again what it’s like to dream. Fundy doesn’t want to talk about it, but Quackity notes that he’s been vague about it

- Fundy explains that every time something big happens in this place, he has dreams where he can sort of see what happens before it does. It’s like gazing into the future, except he loses details before it happens

- Quackity presses him on it. Let’s say they have a big war coming up, he takes Tubbo’s totems and Fundy sleeps and tells him what happens next so that they can prepare?

- Fundy doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Quackity doesn’t understand how real these things are

- What if they build an entire building for Fundy so that he can have these dreams comfortably? It’s just a possibility...

- Slime’s gloop-morphosis isn’t “complete” yet

- Quackity asks if Fundy knows Foolish. Fundy remembers one time he blew up a little bit of Foolish’s house and he finds out Foolish lives in Las Nevadas

- Quackity asks how long ago this was. Fundy says it happened a long time ago, but Slime corrects him

Quackity: “Just know, Fundy...he doesn’t know how to lie.”

- Quackity leaves to get diamonds and Fundy confronts Slime alone, asking him how he knows things. He tells Slime that in certain situations, it’s helpful to keep quiet on certain things for the benefit of other people

- They move on and Fundy teaches Slime a bit about fun and hobbies

- Quackity returns and they notice many squid in the nearby river. Quackity goes down and starts killing “cod” (salmon). Fundy corrects him that they aren’t cod, but to Quackity fish is fish. Fundy looks away while Quackity kills them

- They suggest Fundy be the food-gatherer. Fundy suggests a diet of fruit and plants

Slime: “What’s wrong with salmon? Your father loved them!”

- Quackity asks Fundy to elaborate on his father, if he came from a fishing family. Fundy asks Slime again about how he knows. Slime continually refers back to people “turning to dust.” 

- They ask about what Slime knows about them, then about Slime’s favorite memory. He digs a whole in the ground and waits for a bit

- They teach Slime about humor

Slime: “Two people walk into a bar. One is green, one is red. The green one is shaped -- is a bigger guy, and the red one is a smaller guy. To get to the bar, both got off a train. The train the red guy was on was going west at 40 miles an hour for 60 miles. The train the other guy was on did not serve lunch. They both walked into a bar, and 500 years later they were still just dust in the ground. At the end of it all, they were just still dust, and none of it mattered.”

- Slime tells another joke about a chicken turning into dust.

Quackity: “How long do you think it’ll take for me to turn to dust?

Slime: “I...I’ll make sure you never turn to dust, Quackity from Las Nevadas!”

- Quackity asks about Fundy’s father

Slime: “The sooty guy?”

- Quackity and Slime ask Fundy -- shouldn’t he know? Slime says Fundy can ask Wilbur about his history himself

Quackity: “Your dad’s alive, Fundy?”

- Fundy tells Quackity about how Phil came to him with some interesting news, that Wilbur is actually alive. Quackity ask when was the last time Fundy’s seen Wilbur. Fundy hasn’t seen him alive again yet

Quackity: “What’s your relationship with Wilbur?”

Fundy: “It’s...it’s complicated, man. It’s very complicated.”

Quackity: “Because...there’s an issue.”

- Fundy wants to talk to Wilbur about a lot of things. Quackity brings Fundy over to the headquarters and breaks the news that Wilbur came to see Quackity

Fundy: “...He saw you? He went on his way to see you, and -- and he’s not shown up to me to, you know -- why, why?”

- Quackity shows Fundy the “mark” Wilbur made. Wilbur asked to join Las Nevadas, and Quackity said no. He shows Fundy the name: Fort Big. Tommy and Wilbur are working together

- Quackity is just warning Fundy. He hopes this won’t get in the way of Fundy supporting the nation. Fundy just doesn’t know why Wilbur didn’t come to him, but he went to Quackity. 

Fundy: “Did he talk about me?”

- Quackity thinks he did, but he doesn’t remember what

- Fundy says goodbye to Slime and Quackity, heading off to settle down on his own. He stands at his plot of land, wondering if he’ll have to fight Wilbur

- Purpled is at his old base by the ruins of L’manburg. Life is good. He has DogChamp, he’s been fishing, no human contact

- He has something to attend to and goes to the cliffside nearby, finding Slime. He asks why Slime’s been watching him, who told Slime to spy. Slime avoids answering

- Purpled figures it’s Quackity and asks Slime more about how long he’s been above the ground, what he knows. Slime refers to him as “Purpled From a UFO” and Purpled shows Slime that his UFO has been destroyed by Quackity

- Purpled leaves Slime and visits the ruins. He notices Slime following him and tells him to leave again

- Slime traps himself in Dream’s honeymoon suite and Purpled continues down the path, looking at all the builds. He visits the Socializing Club and checks beneath the floor -- the trap he made all those months ago is still there. He wonders if anyone remembers these things

- Slime slimes his way out of the trap and Purpled visits L’manburg. He was just a pawn, there was no “Purpled in L’manburg” or “Purpled in Pogtopia” or “Purpled on Dream SMP’s side.” There was just no Purpled

- He returns to his house, gets DogChamp, puts him into a hidden chamber elsewhere. He stores his valuables...and rigs the entire place with TNT

He sets it off and it goes

- Slime talks to Purpled again. Purpled asks if Quackity is still interested in a new resident

- Purpled asks Slime to trust him as he retrieves DogChamp, and he gets Slime to lead him to Las Nevadas

- He makes it there and goes into the casino. Quackity doesn’t know what he has planned. He comes out to find Quackity there. Quackity takes him up to the top of the Needle

- Purpled makes it clear he only cares about the opportunity for himself, not for Quackity. He doesn’t stand for what Quackity does, doesn’t think there will ever be a time that he’ll respect Quackity as a person

- Quackity tells him they all change in some way or another. When he first became Vice President, he saw the best in everyone

Quackity: “I don’t really see the good in people anymore...but I do see opportunity.”

- Quackity tells Purpled that if they succeed with the nation, the two of them will be going down in history. Purpled starts to come around to thinking that maybe they are on the same page 

- Quackity had a citizenship document he meant for Purpled to sign, but he’s willing to gamble on it without

Quackity: “Welcome to Las Nevadas, Purpled.”

- He gives Purpled the document either way and tells him he has a right to a plot of land. Quackity will have a business meeting with all the residents soon

- Purpled asks for land behind the casino. He has an idea for something. Quackity agrees to give it to him

- Purpled leaves and speaks to himself with DogChamp at the stage. Things will be looking different around here real soon

- Ranboo goes to the mailbox he set up with the Council and checks it, finding a new update in the book along with a Netherite Axe labelled “axe of the end” in Enderman.

The update reads:

---

Hello. We have been observing the happenings around the server and we come bearing not news but rather a warning for you. We know that you like to stand idle and not engage in any kind of acts of violence and we respect you for that.

However, we also know that there are people that you care about and you need to understand that in order to take care of those people you are no longer able to just stand idle. You need to take a more active role again. We have given you something that can help with that. Use it carefully.

We respect your wishes. - The Council

---

- Ranboo takes the axe. He planned to work on Tubbo’s outpost, make it seem like more of a shop than an outpost

- He goes to the outpost and finds the griefing, cleaning it up

- As some protective measures, he leaves signs:

---

Hello! Whoever put a bunch of dirt everywhere, Dont!

This is going to be a new cookie shop! We dont have cookies yet

Please leave it alone! Or violence will be used.

---

- He continues working on the outpost and Techno logs on. Ranboo goes over to the new tollbooth and pays the toll of one bone

Techno: ranboo have you unlocked teleportation yet

Ranboo: not yet i dont think

Ranboo: let me try

Ranboo: yeah no

Techno: can you hurry up

Techno: asking for a friend

- Ranboo explores around Las Nevadas and makes a to-do list

- He makes a hidey hole in the strip club and strips some logs. He gets tempted to steal a Netherite block

His to-do list reads:

---

TO DO LIST FOR LAS NEVADAS: 1. Figure out what to get inside of. 2. Figure out what the hollow buildings are 3. Figure out why there are so many horses 4. Figure out who runs this place 5. Figure out what the black pillars are for

---

- He returns home and speaks with Tubbo in VC

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

[petertingle-yipyip]

SIN MIEDO - BUCKY BARNES (THREE)

EPISODE THREE : POWER BROKER

series tags: @calums-betch​​ // SM masterlist // another madripoor gif bc i loved those scenes

Pairing: Stark!Reader x Bucky Barnes (platonic/flirty)

Word Count: 9,209

Summary: Leaving John Walker in the dust, Y/N had to follow Barnes to a shifty contact. That leads them to Madripoor and an unexpected, and suspicious, ally. Juggling her grief, her control, her own doubts, the pressure of Walker on their tail, and a school girl crush, can she handle the fight?

The next day, the three of you found yourselves in Berlin. You weren’t surprised how easy it was to get through security. Flashing a smile and an ID with Stark on it opened pretty much any door. Surely it had nothing to do with Sam working with the Air Force again.

“Last time I was in Germany, we weren’t on the same side.” You commented nostalgically as you three followed the security guard. “How the tables have turned.”

“I’m gonna go in alone.” Barnes said as you all approached the last corridor.

“Not a chance.” You laughed as Sam said “Why?”

“You’re Avengers..” Barnes reasoned. “You know how he feels about that.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolicking in the sun together.” Sam mocked.

“He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history. Trust me, I got it.” Barnes assured before turning to leave. When Sam didn’t stop him, you did.

Quickly you reached out and grabbed his wrist. You made no effort to pull him back and he didn’t exactly pull away from you. He looked back at you with a stern expression, that he wasn’t going to cave.

“You’re not going alone, Barnes.” You said seriously, tightening your grip on his wrist slightly.

“Y/N-“ He tried.

“No.” You cut in. “I don’t care. I can do this all day.” You offered with a slight smirk.

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before caving. He nodded slightly, his expression betraying that he was slightly impressed. “Fine. Hurry up.” He said, nodding for you to follow.

“Yessir, Sergeant Barnes.” You chuckled as you followed behind Barnes. The comment earned you an eye roll and a scoff, but nothing was said.

“You sure you want to do this?” You checked as you two waited for security to let you in. “I can handle it on my own..”

“I can do it.” He nodded as you approached the cell.

“I’m sure you can.” You shrugged casually. “It was more about if you wanted to.”

You stayed a couple steps behind Barnes, using the shadows to stay mostly out of sight. You didn’t want to talk to Zemo, let alone be in the room. But part of you wanted to make sure that nothing happened. You didn’t know if you could stop Barnes if Zemo triggered the Winter Soldier, but you probably had the best shot.

You watched Barnes’ body language carefully. From your angle, you could see the look on his face. The tension of his shoulders. The hand you could see was in a tight fist. There was a certain fear in his eyes, in the way his jaw clenched. You could tell that a part of him, even if it was a small part, was scared that Zemo would send him back to the Winter Soldier.

Zemo tried the trigger words but earned no reaction from Barnes. You let out a breath of relief and saw Barnes’ shoulders relax as that tension left him. You didn’t doubt that Barnes had control, that his time in Wakanda was enough to rid his mind of HYDRA’s influence, but you also knew Zemo was crafty. You didn’t trust that he didn’t have a couple tricks up his sleeve. But then again… So did you.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Zemo said, catching your attention. “It was never personal.”

“Seemed kinda personal.” You muttered to yourself. You were anxious, shifting your weight between your feet. You wondered what Sam was feeling back in the hallway but you couldn’t go back. The tension in your body was begging for a release, seemingly burning it’s way through your skin. There was a crackle of electricity between your fingers, a skill you hardly had a grip on. You only figured out how to use it in quick bursts or it would build itself up in moments of high tension.

“You brought a friend?” Zemo questioned, his eyes turning to you. You sunk deeper into the shadows.

“Someone recreated the super soldier serum.” Barnes said to redirect his attention. There was more control in his tone and it settled something anxious in the pit of your stomach. “I need to find out who.”

“You’re assuming HYDRA has something to do with this.” Zemo said simply, studying Barnes as he spoke. The expression Zemo held, the way he was looking at Barnes like an experiment, tempted you to reveal yourself. Something about it made your skin crawl, but you knew you had to refrain. You needed the info. “Which is why you came to me, which means you’re desperate…” A smug tone laced his voice and made you want to gag. “Lucky for you, and your friend in the shadows, I know where to begin.”

“And in exchange?” You finally spoke, stepping into the small sliver of light and taking your place beside Barnes. “What’s it going to take?”

His sly smile made you instantly regret the question.

Without explaining anything to Sam, you and Barnes led him to a series of tunnels underground. You opted to remain silent through the endeavor, knowing you wouldn’t be able to explain it right. While Sam pestered Barnes about the plan, you were busy finding the best route.

You kept one hand against the concrete wall, tapping your fingers to feel the vibrations. The tunnels were empty save for you three. They lead to a basement where you stopped for Barnes to walk Sam through a “hypothetical”.

“Please tell me this is an actual hypothetical.” Sam looked to you. In the meantime, you were toying with balls of air in your palm. You were balancing on them in a handstand.

“Yeah.” You lied. “It’s a hypothetical.”

Barnes continued to explain everything while you purposefully distracted yourself. You weren’t a huge fan of this plan, but Barnes had a point. Zemo offered a starting point. Walker had nothing. You guys had nothing. Though you’d never admit it, you needed Zemo.

“Speak of the devil.” You commented when you felt his footsteps approaching. You landed back on your feet as Zemo entered the room.

“You’re going back to prison.” Sam insisted.

“If I may-“ Zemo tried.

“No!” Sam and Barnes yelled simultaneously.

“Sorry.” You said with a shrug, bringing your forearms up and slamming them together. The movement called walls of earth to rise and trap Zemo in a thick rock casing. “It’s nothing personal.”

“When Steve refused to sign the Accords, you backed him.” Barnes countered.

“You broke the law and stuck your neck out for him.” You added.

“I distinctly remember you-“ Sam pointed to you. “-were on the other side.”

“My name’s not anywhere on that document.” You corrected. “I was a minor. Wouldn’t have been legally binding.”

“I’m asking you to do it again.” Barnes tried.

“I really think I’m invaluable-“ Zemo began again.

“Shut up!” You groaned, lifting the rock to meet his chin. “I will go all the way up.” You threatened before turning your attention back to the boys. “I’m with Barnes. I know it’s crazy but it’s the best shot we got. And we gotta move fast cause Walker is working on this too.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed finally. You dropped the rock prison and looked to the boys. “You don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair.” Zemo nodded.

“Otherwise, you deal with me.” You said simply. His eyebrows raised in interest, a slight challenge glinting in his eyes. You lifted your hand in front of your face, palm to the side. As you lowered your hand, you angled it so your fingertips pointed at Zemo. You saw his muscles tighten as he struggled but gave in to your control and went down to his knees.

“Dad once said the best weapon was the weapon you only had to fire once.” You said as if you were contemplating the words. “Let’s hope he was right.” You released Zemo before Sam spoke up.

“So where do we start?” He asked.

While Zemo was collecting his things from one of the cars, he explained where to start. He mentioned a woman named Selby as a starting point.

“This whole time you were rich?” Sam asked wildly as you approached a private jet.

“I’m a Baron, Sam.” Zemo answered in a matter of fact tone. “My family was royalty until you destroyed my country.”

“Eh.” You shrugged. “The Stark jet is nicer.”

You sat across from Barnes while Sam sat across from Zemo. You weren’t too interested in conversation. You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you really care. The sudden movement of Barnes made you snap to attention.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Barnes threatened lowly with a hand at Zemo’s throat.

“At ease, soldier.” You reached over to tug on Barnes’ jacket. After a moment’s hesitation, he came and sat back down.

“I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo said with a solemn nod. He gestured between you and Barnes. “What I don’t understand is the relationship here. Are you two… involved?”

“Don’t push it.” Barnes muttered angrily as you simply rolled your eyes.

Sam talked about the book, that it used to be Steve’s. He bragged about how he suggested something for Steve to write in it. You remembered you had suggested some things for him to look into too, your favorite had been all the horror movies you got him to add.

Sam and Barnes then bickered about the Troubleman soundtrack, to which Zemo chimed in. You groaned slightly, throwing your head back and staring at the ceiling. The conversation quickly shifted to Steve and super soldiers, mildly peaking your interest.

“Cities fly. Innocent people die.” Zemo carried on.

“You forget who you’re talking to.” You laughed in disbelief.

“Pardon?”

“You’re talking about Sokovia… I was there. And my dad nearly died - yet again - trying to save the world… Trying to fix his mistake but no one cared about that part, right?.”

“Only nearly..” He agreed. “I think it’s fair to say the Avengers, none of you were really innocent.”

“And he actually did die to bring back half the universe so excuse me if I don’t share your bitterness.”

“It seems that you do, Y/N.” He analyzed, watching the response your eyes gave away.

“Shut it.” You rolled your eyes.

Conversation quickly shifted to Madripoor. Zemo and Barnes explained what it’s like, what it was. It sounded like a place out of a book, but given that your career was fighting A.I. powered robots and a giant genocidal purple lunatic, nothing was surprising anymore.

“James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo told Barnes.

A solemn expression came over Barnes. You couldn’t tell if it was regret, remorse, or something else. You leaned forward, resting elbows on your knees. You nodded to motion Barnes to come closer. He leaned forward in the same way.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” You asked quietly. “We can find another way, or we can do this witho-“

“I’m not sitting out.” He cut in. “I’ll be fine. Why do you keep trying to sideline me?”

“You won’t be alone.” You offered genuinely. “Sam and I got your back.”

Later that night, you walked the bridge that led to Madripoor. 

“So who am I supposed to be, exactly?” You asked after Zemo had explained Sam’s character for the night.

“Rosalinda Calvillo Del Santos.” He said, showing you a picture of the girl. “Heiress to a huge cartel ring out of Mexico City.”

“Woah, she’s hot.” You nodded, slightly impressed. “And this dress… Seems like it perfectly matches her style.”

You motioned to the dress you wore. It was a tight, short black silk dress with a 4 inch slit up the right side that showed off your body beautifully. The chest of the dress hung perfectly to keep you covered but still catch attention. The straps were silver jewels in a halter style while additional pieces of thin black silk stretched across your back in a criss cross pattern. 

“She's also a bit sadistic.” Zemo added nonchalantly. “But I’m sure you’ll play that just fine.”

“Fun.” You nodded.

“She kinda does look like you.” Sam commented as he leaned over to see the picture while he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket.

“She can’t be that hot then.” Bucky said sarcastically.

“Oh shut up.” You laughed as you pushed Barnes slightly. “You’re just used to girls in the 40’s and the whole modest look, huh?”

“Yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes. “You ever gonna retire the old man jokes?”

“Maybe, but you have to admit how good I look.” You countered.

“Not a chance, little lady.” He smiled and shot a wink your way as he opened the car door for you.

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, what a gentleman.” You said sarcastically, holding a hand to your chest. “I’m so flattered.” You patted his chest as you sat down, scooting to sit in the middle.

The car ride was quick, although the motorcycles that surrounded your vehicle put you on edge a bit. The cold feeling of Barnes’ vibranium arm pressing against your own arm was the only thing that managed to keep you from burning through the car.

“The bracelet needs to come off.” Zemo pointed out on your walk to the bar.

“Excuse me?” You answered quickly, your opposite hand moving quickly to defend the metal cuff.

“Rosalinda only wears gold. She’s never been seen with anything else.”

“But this bracelet is-“

“Hideous” Zemo cut in.

“No! It’s from my dad, jackass!” You argued and stopped your steps.

“Here, let me have it.” Barnes held his hand out, to which you simply took a step away from him. “Y/N, come on.”

“No, I- I can’t take it off.”

Barnes sighed slightly before sliding two fingers under the collar of his shirt to pull a small chain out. He reached behind his neck to unclasp it before offering it to you. “Put your bracelet on here. Nothing’s going to happen to it.” Barnes explained.

“What are…” You asked softly as you reached for the chain. Your fingers grazed the small metal shapes dangling at the end, turning them so you could read the inscriptions. “James Buchanan Barnes..” You read silently. “These are your tags.. Barnes, I can’t ask you to-“

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“Y/N..” Sam tried gently. “It won’t be that long, I promise.”

“Okay, fine.” You agreed reluctantly. You handed Barnes back his chain before reaching for your cuff. You put two fingers together above the metal cuff, focusing on separating it enough to slide your wrist out. Your eyes lingered on the band of lighter skin that was hidden by the cuff, proving to everyone around you that you never took it off. Once you freed your wrist, the cuff circled the fingers you used to open it. You glided it to hook over Barnes’ chain, connecting your fingers again to reconnect the metal. “Please don’t lose it.. It means everything to me.”

“Trust me.” He nodded as he reclasped his chain around his neck. He tucked the tags and your bracelet under his shirt and patted it lightly. You smiled gently in thanks before turning back to the door.

“Good. Now, escort her in.” Zemo instructed Bucky. Barnes held out an arm for you to take so you looped yours through his, making Zemo click his tongue at you. “Other side.”

“What difference does it make?” You asked in annoyance.

“The Del Santos family -especially Rosalinda- loves to show power.” He explained. “Having the Winter Soldier makes you powerful, but being on that side-“ He pointed to Barnes’ metal arm. “-shows it off… They also know how to barter for that power, if you know what I mean.” He gave you a pointed look and nodded towards Barnes, assuming you would understand what he meant. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but you understood.

“So treat him like a trophy?” You replied with a raised brow as you stepped around to switch sides. “Easy enough.”

“Oh god.” Barnes mumbled under his breath. “Don’t abuse this.”

“I think you’ll like being shown off a little.” You smirked slightly, keeping your head high as you followed Barnes’ lead into the building. “I’ll try not to go too far.”

Like flipping a switch, you fell into character once you stepped into the crowd and instantly made a statement.

“Listo para cumplir, Soldado de Invierno?” You said simply, keeping your head high and shoulders back as you followed Barnes through the crowd.

You heard the whispers, asking if that was really the Winter Soldier. You had to admit, it gave you a feeling of pride in your chest to see everyone look at you in awe. The respect in their eyes when they met yours was interesting. It was different from the respect you got as Y/N Stark. There was an underlying tone of fear in the looks as well.

Your small group stayed at the bar, Barnes kept his head on a swivel while you leaned your elbows on the bar top behind you. You lazily turned your head to check on Sam but saw the bartender slicing open a snake.

“Al menos no tengo que hacer nada que… asqueroso.” You said to Barnes before chuckling. He made a small sound of agreement, the tiniest hint of a smile toying with his features. “Vamos. Diviértete, soldado.”

“Mi misión es protegerte.” He replied in a flat, monotonous voice.

“Ay, díos.” You groaned, turning to face the bartender. “Señor? Bourbon, neat. Please.”

“Since when do you drink, Santos?” He nodded in amusement as he poured your drink.

“Well, it’s been a rough week.” You sighed, lifting the glass in thanks. “Put it on my friend’s tab.” You winked at Zemo before turning back to look at the busy crowd.

“You lot aren’t welcome here.” A bald man came up to Zemo.

“We have no business with the Power Broker.” Zemo started. “But if he insists…”

“He can come and talk to me.” You cut in, resting a hand on Barnes’ shoulder and sipping your drink. “Or bring Selby for a chat.” You shrugged.

“What do you know about the Power Broker?” Sam asked when the man was out of earshot.

“Here he is judge, jury, and executioner.” Zemo said quickly.

“We’ve got company.” You said into your drink. You set the cup down and cleared your throat. “Soldado de Invierno, hora de ir a trabajar.”

The man reached a hand for your shoulder but was instantly snatched by Barnes. You had to give it to him. He was a very convincing actor. It seemed easy for him to slip back into that person, to become the Winter Soldier. You knew it wasn’t really him, but the violent scene in front of you was hard to deny.

Sam saw it too. He looked to you in concern, hearing the same click of the guns that you did. You easily took the few steps to stand between him and Zemo.

“Don’t worry.” You said simply, maintaining the cocky smirk you wore as Barnes did his work. “He’s got this.. But that’s not what that look is about, is it?” You glanced at Sam and saw the expression on his face. It held concern for Barnes but also the flash of a memory when the Winter Soldier attacked you all after the UN bombing.

“You break character and this whole bar is against us.” You used your glass to cover your lips while you spoke. “I don't like this either but-

Before you finished your sentence, Barnes slammed a man on the bar top by his throat. You instantly slipped back into character to respond.

“Buen trabajo, querido soldado.” You giggled with a pat on his chest. He let the man go as the bartender told you Selby was ready. You swallowed the rest of your drink before putting the cup back on the bar.

“Vamos.” You nodded. Barnes held an arm out for you to take, which you quickly did. 

“You okay?” Sam asked Barnes quietly as you followed Zemo to Selby. A sharp nod was the only response Sam got.

You let Zemo talk to Selby since you had no idea who the woman was. You stayed towards the back of the room with Sam and Barnes, your arms still linked. The cold metal against your arm was the only thing that kept you from bursting into flames.

It was easy enough to be Rosalinda. Confident, powerful, demanding respect, beautiful and a little flirty. It mildly shocked you that you could play into her sadism. You didn’t know where you pulled that from. Maybe Nat taught you better than you thought. Outside of that, Rosalinda was close enough to a Stark that you didn’t feel like you were pretending too much. And lucky for you, you learned Spanish as a child. It was the people that knew her that worried you. One wrong mannerism, one wrong saying, and the whole thing was blown.

“What’s the offer?” Selby asked after an attempted flirt with Sam. You caught Zemo’s signal, a silent attempt to tell you it was your turn. 

“I suppose it’s more my offer.” You spoke up.

“I didn’t know Calvillos travelled this far.” Selby smiled mischievously. 

“Well I heard you like to play hard ball.” You said with a sly smile. “Del Santos can play too. My offer is him. The Winter Soldier, el soldado de invierno.” You offered confidently, walking a small circle around Barnes. “And the words to control him, of course.”

You traced your fingers along his shoulders, across his back and down his metal arm. You felt him tense under your touch, but his demeanor never faltered. “He will do anything you want.” You added, facing Barnes and gently running your hands down his arms. “I’m sorry.” You whispered honestly. Your expression reset to a playful pride as you spun to take your original place beside Barnes and watched for Selby’s reaction.

“This is a fun surprise. I’m glad I didn’t kill you all immediately.” She said happily.

“You have information I want.” You stepped in front of Barnes, blocking him from her line of sight. “You give me everything I need and I give you him.”

She bit her lower lip as she smiled. Her eyes looked Barnes up and down, and it made you want to gag.

“Hello? Are we going to do business or are you going to ogle him all night?” You asked in annoyance as you crossed your arms.

“A bit testy tonight.” She said with an entertained smirk and your pulse jumped. “You were right to come to me.” She said with a nod. “The serum is here, in Madripoor. You’re gonna want to talk to Dr. Wilfred Nagel. Power Broker had him work on it but it didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still here?”

“Crumbs for free but the bakery will cost you.” She wagged a finger at you. “And before you get cute, you can’t find Nagel with me.”

Before either you or Zemo could offer a rebuttal, Sam’s phone went off. You felt in your bones that it wasn’t going to work out well if he answered that call.

As Sam was on the phone, which Selby made him answer on speaker, she circled you and Barnes. You nodded towards Sam, allowing Barnes to take a few steps away from you.

Before you knew it, your cover was blown and the shot rang out. Selby was dead and the boys easily took down the other two guys in the room.

“This is going to come back to us.” You said as you stood on the other side of the room, as far from her body as you could be.

“Just drop the weapons and follow my lead.” Zemo said, trying to gain control of the situation.

Without other options, you all followed Zemo out and through the streets of Madripoor. Every turn you took, you felt more and more eyes upon you. Phones buzzed every second and you could only assume it was word spreading of Selby’s death.

“I don’t like this.” You muttered.

As soon as the words left your mouth, gun shots sounded. Barnes grabbed your hand and began running with you following close behind. You ducked the shots and grabbed Barnes’ hand a little tighter. You turned to see Sam struggling to keep up.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled.

“Try running in stilettos and a mini skirt.” You replied in annoyance.

“You want to stop them?” Barnes tried.

“I can’t really focus right now.” You answered with an eye roll. You were going to stop and try lifting a rock wall behind you or creating a gust to push them back or even try to summon a quick lightning burst.

Shots came from a high window and took out the two men behind you before you tried to fight back. Zemo came out from behind a dumpster and made a stupid comment about a guardian angel.

“What a coward.” You sneered, Barnes holding you back when you made a move to slap the Baron.

“This is too perfect.” A familiar voice came from the shadows. You pulled away from Barnes and called a small flame to your palm. “Drop it, Zemo.”

“Sharon?” Barnes asked. 

“You cost me everything.” She ignored you guys. You didn’t let the fire go out. 

“Wait, Sharon.” Sam tried. “Someone recreated the super soldier serum. Zemo had a lead.”

“That explains why you guys are here and why Selby’s dead.”

“Why are you here?” You asked carefully.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” She scoffed. “And I took the wings for your ass-“ She pointed her gun at Sam. “-so you could save his ass-“ Her gun pointed to Barnes. “-from his ass.” Her gun landed on Zemo. “I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m in Madripoor.”

Sam tried reasoning with Sharon but got nowhere.

“We need your help.” You tried and let the flame in your palm die out. “Please. We- We didn’t have any other options…”

With a heavy sigh, Sharon told you all to follow her. You were the first to follow her footsteps. After a second, the other three came behind you. You were questioning the timing of Sharon’s reveal, but overall you were grateful she showed up. Things weren’t looking great up until then.

“Seems like being on the run treated you better than it treated Sam.” You commented as you looked around at Sharon’s place. 

“If I was going to be a hustler, I was gonna live like one.” She said, a hint of pride in her tone.

The three boys then talked about the art, and whether it was real or fake. Sam didn’t believe them until a quick google search told him the truth. Sharon made you all change your clothes, pulling out a whole rack of clothes for the boys to look through and letting you sift through her closet.

You decided on a fitted maroon wrap-style dress. It was a soft material, fitting the curves of your body perfectly. The spaghetti straps criss-crossed behind your neck. You kept your same black heels and made your way back to the group and took a seat with Barnes on the couch.

Sam and Sharon talked a bit, ridiculing the idea of heroes. She called it hypocrisy, claiming that’s why Sam gave up the shield.

“Wow.” You teased as you sat. “You clean up nice, Barnes.”

He smiled slightly at you. “Hey, I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.” He said simply.

“Huh?” His statement took you by surprise. It wasn’t the response you expected. “Right. Yeah, I learned it when I was a kid. Dad tried to teach me French but Spanish was more natural cause my mom's side of the family.”

“You look good too, by the way.” He added and gave you a slight nudge. “Cause I know that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your face.” He said simply. “You give away a lot of emotions in your face.”

“I do not!” You insisted quietly with a chuckle, smacking his arm.

“Yes, you do.” He laughed with a nod.

“Wait a second…” You paused, crossing your legs and leaning towards him. “Were you just nice to me?” You teased with a wide smile.

“Don’t push it.” He chuckled.

“Hey... I’m sorry about using you as bait with Selby. I figured that’s what Zemo was hinting at… It didn’t seem like there was any room for me to say no.” You said honesty. The look in his eyes when you dangled him in front of Selby, you could tell it brought back so much of his trauma. That inability to say ‘no’. You truly had felt wrong for doing it. “I shouldn’t have-“

“Y/N.” Barnes said and put a hand on your leg. Your words were cut off instantly. “It’s alright.. It was for the mission.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” You said softly. “You’re not just an asset or a trophy. You’re my friend.”

“How is the new Cap, by the way?” Sharon asked, drawing your attention.

“Don’t even get me started.” Barnes shook his head.

You dropped your head back to look at her over the back of the couch. “He thought he could bail me out of jail and we’d be best friends.”

“He really thought you needed bail money? ” She laughed as she came around to sit with you two. “And you. You were Mr. America before you were his pet psychopath.” She told Barnes. “Cap’s best friend.”

“She’s kind of awful now.” Barnes said to you.

“She was always kinda awful.” You mumbled while Sam refocused everyone.

“You guys shouldn’t be involved in this.” She said, as if she was warning you. “For your own safety.”

“We got a name.” You added, not leaving any room for discussion. Something about the way Sharon talked to you led you to hold suspicions. “Wilfred Nagel.”

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” She explained.

“I can get your name cleared, Sharon. But we need your help.” Sam tried.

“I don’t buy that.”

“They cleared the bionic staring machine and he killed almost everyone he met.”

“I heard that.” Barnes said, which drew a small laugh from you.

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon countered.

“Let’s call it a deal then.” Sam offered.

“Fine.” She shook Sam’s hand. “Lay low. Enjoy the party. And stay out of trouble.”

“I do like a good party.” You smiled as you stood. You held a hand out to Barnes, who groaned before pushing himself up.

He held an arm out to you but before you took it, you turned to face him straight on. You casually adjusted his suit jacket before your hands moved across his chest. Your hands went to his neck while he watched your hands carefully. You slid both pointer fingers under the collar of his shirt and he tensed slightly. You pulled his chain out and held it with one hand and used the other to release your bracelet. You fit the metal cuff back to its rightful place on your wrist with a proud smile. 

“Didn’t give anything away that time, did I, James?” You said quietly, shooting him a quick wink.

“Shall we?” You asked happily, turning to face Zemo and Sam.

Even though you had a point in being in Madripoor and it definitely wasn’t a party, you were excited for the party. It would be nice to relax, not feel any guilt over your father. Any grief over Nat. Any anger at John Walker. And stress about being an Avenger. You could just be a twenty one year old kid and have fun for the first time in what felt like ever.

You lost the boys in the crowd rather quickly. But it wasn’t a heavy thought in your mind to stay with them. What seemed to bounce around in your brain were your interactions with Barnes through the day. You couldn’t quite figure out if you were flirting with him intentionally or just habitually.

You brushed it off temporarily as your personality. You were a Stark after all. And Starks tend to flirt with anyone… Right?

Regardless, you weaved through the crowd and let yourself enjoy the party for a moment. You enjoyed the music, letting your body sway and spin with the vibrations. It was hard for you to tell where anyone was through the vibrations of the floor with the vibrations from the speakers, but you told yourself that wasn’t your problem. Barnes and Sam would be fine for a little while. You weren’t sure how long you had been dancing when you heard the boy beside you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” A boy said from your side.

Turning, you were met by a very beautiful boy. He was a bit taller than you, dark brown curly hair that fell messily across his forehead. You couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, only that they were looking at you with admiration. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m just passing through.” You answered vaguely. Given your previous escapades through Madripoor, you wanted to be as discreet as you could until you were able to leave.

“You come with anyone?”

“Just a few friends..”

“No boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend?” You repeated with a laugh. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Girlfriend?” He tried.

“No.” You laughed slightly. “I’ve been out of the dating game for a few years, actually.” You snapped your fingers to show what you meant.

“You’re too pretty to be at a party alone.” He shamelessly flirted.

“Well I’m not alone.” You corrected. “This is actually a friend’s party.”

“Your friends with the Power Broker?”

Before you could voice a response, a hand found your arm. You quickly looked over and saw Barnes at your side, only his eyes weren’t on you. They were on the new guy.

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?” The boy said nervously.

“Come on, Sarge.” You chuckled, noticing the staring and tense shoulders resembled jealousy. But for Barnes, distrust and suspicion was a more likely reaction. “It was nice to meet you.” You told the kid before pushing Barnes to move.

You couldn’t help but wonder… If the party was the Power Broker’s, but Sharon was hosting like it was her party.. Could Sharon be the Power Broker? Or closer involved than she led you to believe at least?

The next morning, you were all walking through an old shipping yard. Sharon was smart enough to grab you a more practical outfit, a skinny fit pair of black pants and a fitted light blue long sleeve and better shoes. You followed Sharon’s lead to crate. While she stayed for lookout, your group of four went in.

You knocked with one hand and felt the vibrations change at the end. You nodded towards the back of the container so Zemo went to take a look and exposed a secret door.

Sam and Barnes went in first, you behind them, and Zemo behind you. The guys tried to get you to take a gun but you adamantly refused, telling them you were a terrible shot and you had weapons of your own. Sam tried talking to Nagel, but he tried to run instead. Instantly, Nagel froze when he saw Barnes.

“You know who he is, right?” You chuckled, something intimidating dancing in your words. It was something you normally didn’t hear in your voice. You usually weren’t the intimidating type but things were different…You were different. “There’s Baron Zemo and me… Well, you’ll see.”

“How about a counter proposal?” Nagel tried. You ignored Sharon’s warnings in your ear. “Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”

“Your life isn’t enough?” Your brows raised as you challenged him. You nodded slightly before raising your hand. Your fingers lazily pointed straight up as you grabbed hold of Nagel’s blood. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, do you?”

“Maybe she’s the intimidating one.” Zemo said, an odd respect in his voice.

You forced Nagel to his knees while Sam kept his gun pointed at him. “I can manipulate air too… I wonder if I could pull it from your lungs since you refuse to talk.”

“Okay, okay!” Nagel broke and told you the whole story after you released him. You were getting good at your new blood trick, and that mildly worried you but you had to push it to the back of your mind. Parts of his story included Siberia, an American who you could only assume was Isaiah Bradley, the Snap, and the Power Broker.

You caught the name Donya Madani, committing it to memory. If she was someone Karli wanted to help, she was someone that could lead you to her.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Barnes asked. When Nagel didn’t answer, he pressed the gun to the man’s temple.

“No!” He said quickly. “But would she-“ He gestured to you. “-be incredible with it.”

“Thanks, but that’s a question I don’t need answered.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall behind you.

“The pure power you hold..” He continued and let out a devious chuckle. “You’re not at all curious?”

“I’m not the kind of person who deserves it.. Trust me. There’s probably as much blood on my hands as his.” You nodded to Barnes. “Just different motives.”

“Aren’t you tired of depending on them to help you? To save you?”

“I know my value. Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.”

The rest happened too fast to process in that moment. Sharon burst in. Zemo shot Nagel and that drew an interesting reaction from Sharon. And an explosion went off. Barnes had pulled you out of the way before you could get caught up in the blast. 

Your head spun mildly from the quick movement and your ears rang violently. You tried to shake it off but that seemed to only make it worse. You felt a warm stream down the side of your head and realized a loose piece of shrapnel had sliced your forehead.

“You alright?” Barnes asked, helping you to your feet. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded, mildly disoriented. Looking around, you saw the smoke gathering in the room. You put a hand above your head, using it to keep the smoke at the top of the room.

“Ah shit.” He muttered, pushing the loose hair out of your face. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hand away. “We gotta go. These chemicals are going to go off any second and I doubt I can save us from that.”

You got Sharon to her feet while Barnes got Sam. Sam asked about Zemo, but that was the least of your concerns. You four had to get out of there before you were trapped.

You tried using your powers to move the shipping containers or pull a piece of the wall apart but it was too heavy to do in such a hectic environment. There was too much going on for you to really focus. Once you were out, the boys started arguing about whose fault it was. 

“Not the time!” You shouted at them, your back against one of the fallen containers. “We’re blocked in and you three are out of bullets. So either I can try to handle this or we stay here and get caught. Either way, you need to zip it so one of us can come up with something.”

“Just use your pow-“ Barnes tried.

“I can’t do anything when you’re this loud!” You snapped. “Besides, the containers are too heavy. I’m not strong enough.”

You thought out loud to yourself. “I could try a concrete wall but I don’t know how long I can hold it if I’m worried about getting shot.” You chewed your lower lip in contemplation. “I’m too far to try the blood thing… They’re firing too many bullets for me to redirect back… What if I…”

It was so much easier when you had your dad to talk things out with. When you had someone smarter than you and could see a different angle, who could run the numbers and tell you your best chance, everything was so much easier.

“How are you going to handle it then?” Sharon challenged with an eye roll.

“You really don’t know a thing about me, do you?” You laughed in disbelief.

Before she could offer a rebuttal, there was another explosion. A smirk found its way to your face as you got an idea. You quickly hopped the barricade your group was stuck behind, despite the protests from Barnes and Sam. You slid under a hanging metal beam and popped up by the explosion. You shaped the flames away from you four and pushed it towards the people shooting at you. You used what was left as a wall to give you cover for you to get away.

“That’s how I’m going to handle it.” You said with your trademark Stark pride as you met back up with the group.

“You could've got yourself killed.” Sam reprimanded as you four had to duck into a separate container after a gunshot nicked your shoulder. Barnes launched a metal pole through one of the shooters’ shoulders like a javelin before shutting the door behind him.

“Okay.” You groaned, lighting a flame on two fingers. “That could've got me killed.” You ran the flame gingerly along the graze in an attempt to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.

“You’re an idiot.” Barnes grumbled.

“Who just saved your ass, huh?” You challenged as he opened the door when the shooting stopped.

“When are you gonna realize you’re not indestructible?”

“When are you gonna realize who you’re talking to?”

The heavy roar of an engine drew your attention and interrupted the sudden tension. The tension and attitude dissipated as soon as it came but you could tell it wasn’t going to be the last time that grievance was brought up.

“Supercharged.” Zemo said proudly as he pulled up in a sleek black car.

You let out a low whistle and nodded in approval. “She is a beaut.” You commented with an amused laugh. “Would it be wrong if I kept her after this?”

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told him. “And you-“ He told you. “-aren’t keeping the car.”

“You’re no fun... Shut up and get in then.” You rolled your eyes. As Barnes climbed into the front seat, you went to the driver’s side - as if proving a point that you didn’t want to sit behind Barnes - and hopped over and into the backseat. “We still need him.”

Sam got in on the other side and after a quick conversation with Sharon, you were ready to go.

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?” Sam asked.

“No.” Barnes said simply. You rolled your eyes at his childish antics. You leaned forward and tugged his sleeve to get his attention.

“Move your seat up.” You insisted.

“I’m not gonna move my seat.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t move his seat for me so I’m not-“

“Solo tienes que mover el maldito asiento, Barnes.”

“No me voy a mover“

“Venga, muévete.”

“Por qué debería?“

“Cállate y mueve el maldito asiento. Hmm?” You patted his chest before leaning back. Barnes scoffed, but slid forward slightly.

“Okay…” Sam started, leaning closer to you to speak quietly. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m fluent in Spanish.” You shrugged as you leaned to the middle and spoke in the same hushed tone. “Dad taught me when I was eight-ish. I use it for fun or when I’m trying to prove a point, hence the conversation you just saw. Why?”

“Not that… That.” He gestured to you with one hand and to Barnes with the other. “You guys have been flirting since-“

“Nope.” You shook your head and sat back again. “I’m not talking about that.”

“But you were! Why else would he listen to you?”

“What are you guys talking about back there?” Barnes tried.

“It’s above your pay grade, Barnes.” You answered without thought. “Anyways, Sam.” You turned back to Sam. “I’m a Stark. If there was any flirting, it’s harmless. Starks flirt with everyone.” You shrugged innocently.

“Mhmm.” Sam said unconvinced. “If you guys end up together and-“

“If we end up together I’ll be just as shocked as you.” You laughed. “But it’s not gonna happen. I’m pretty sure he hates me, deep down. You saw how he snapped at me a few minutes ago.”

“So just right now and the other day before Walker showed up, right? That’s what you’re basing this on?” Sam asked, gesturing a small circle in reference to the current scenario. You pressed your lips together in a line while you nodded. “But didn’t he make sure you didn’t make it worse after you got arrested?”

“Sure but-“

“Before we ran into Sharon, he reached for you, right?”

“Okay but wait-“

“And he pulled you out of the way of that blast?”

“I see what you’re saying but-“

“And he only seems to get mad at you when you get yourself hurt!”

“It’s coincidental!” You reasoned quickly with your hands up in surrender. “If he’s gonna like anyone, I highly doubt it’s gonna be me. Wanna know why?”

“Enlighten me.” Sam laughed.

“Cause I push every button I can with him.” You explained. “I annoy him and I talk shit to him and I don’t listen to him. I purposefully see what I can get away with. I’m his annoying roommate/best friend.”

“Right… Because that gimmick never leads to anything…” He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Whatever you say, Mini Stark.” He chuckled.

On the flight back, Sam and Barnes sat opposite each other while they talked. You opted to lay on the ground between them after healing your shoulder and other small scrapes, wanting something flat to let your back relax. As soon as you laid down, you felt your spine pop and practically reposition itself.

Your mind wandered back to the same thoughts it kept coming back to, with the newest additions to your messy brain. Your dad, and if you were doing right by him. Steve, and if you lived up to his expectations. Nat, and how she’d be proud to see you utilizing the skills she taught you. The boy at the party, his unintentional implications of Sharon and the Power Broker. And Barnes… Sam’s suggestion that you were purposefully flirting with Barnes had made you rethink your last interactions with him.

There were comments slipped in here or there, sure. You had played a bit when you took your bracelet back, sure. But were you flirting? Did you.. Did you have a crush on Barnes? No, no it was all in good fun. You didn’t really know him. Why would you flirt with someone you didn’t know? Right?

“Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.” Sam said, which instantly caught your attention.

“That shield represents a lot of things to a lot of people, including me.” Barnes said quickly.

“Yeah, me too.” You agreed from the floor. “My grandfather made that shield… It holds a special place in my heart, kinda the only physical thing from Howard...”

“The world is upside down and needs a new Cap.” Barnes started.

“And it’s not gonna be Walker.” You added.

“Before you destroy it, I’m going to take it from him myself.” He finished.

“Count me in, Barnes.” You said, sitting up when Zemo came down the aisle. You moved to sit by the side of Barnes’ chair and looked up at him. “In it together?” You asked, holding up a fist.

“Together.” He smiled slightly as he gave you the fist bump you waited for.

“Thanks, by the way.” You added softly as Zemo muttered something. “For keeping this safe-“ You shook your wrist. “-and for getting me out the way of that blast. I could’ve died but you didn’t let me.”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you die, Y/N.” He nodded. “You trust me yet?”

“Hmm, getting there.” You pondered playfully. “You’re making good progress, but it depends on if you’re still mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You yelled at me..” You realized how silly it was once you said it.

“You could've gotten hurt or even killed and I- I can’t have your blood on my hands too..”

“I know I’m not invincible…” You admitted heavily as you looked between Sam and Barnes. You knew Sam worried about you too, but he and Barnes had different ways of showing it. “I know I’m not Iron Man, but… But that’s the way I’ve always fought. It’s how I learned to fight. One time Steve told us ‘If you get hurt, hurt them back. And if you die, walk it off’.”

“Of course he did.” Barnes chuckled as Sam smiled fondly. 

“It’s what I've always followed. So yeah, I’m a little reckless but I can heal myself so I never worried… But I guess I can try to be more strategic if it would make you guys feel better.” You offered with a small smile.

It was nice to know you had people watching your back, two people by your side that would seemingly burn down the world if it took you. You felt safer than you had with anyone since your dad.

“Why do you call him Barnes?” Zemo asked suddenly. “I thought you were all friends.”

“Wait. Does it bother you?” You wondered honestly, looking to Barnes.

“No, just a little different.” He answered with a small shrug.

“Dad always called him Barnes. Not James, or even Bucky. Guess I picked it up from him. I never really thought about it, in all honesty.” You shrugged. 

“Yes, but that’s very business.” Zemo continued. “It’s so impersonal. If you two have a good relationship like you claim, or the type of relationship you two display… Shouldn’t you call him something more intimate?”

Using your powers, you plucked one of the ice cubes out of Zemo’s drink and flicked it towards his forehead. It smacked the center and left a wet square on his skin before plopping back in the cup. You smiled in amusement and looked to Barnes, who also enjoyed your little trick.

“Mind your business.” You chuckled, leaning your back against Barnes’ seat. You tilted your head back against the seat too, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh.

“Hey.” Barnes tapped a finger against your forehead. “Don’t sleep on the floor.”

“Stark?” Sam laughed from the other side of the aisle. “Get up, kid. There’s an open seat right here.”

“With the amount of times I’ve fallen asleep on the floor of my dad’s lab or in a desk chair leaning on a lab table or even on the lab table.” You laughed while you stayed in your spot. “This doesn’t bother me.”

“Get your ass up.” Barnes tried again.

“Too late!” You announced, dropping to the ground. “Good night.”

You woke up when you all landed. Even though you had napped on the floor, you didn’t wake feeling stiff or uncomfortable. You followed the boys out of the jet and through the Latvian streets.

It was a beautiful country, as many European countries were. Cobblestone streets that carried vibrations perfectly. Intricate stone buildings that were tall but not towering. Simple painted doors to break monotony.

“I don’t suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial?” Zemo asked, referencing the memorial for Sokovia.

“I did..” You said softly, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

“Did you?” Zemo was honestly surprised.

“After my dad’s funeral, when I moved out… There was a gap between leaving and moving in with Barnes. I didn’t know where else to go or who I was without Tony Stark. So I went to the memorial… It didn’t make anything clearer but it reminded me of a lot.”

“I’m sorry about your father.” Zemo said. You swore you heard sympathy playing in his voice. “He had his flaws but he was a good man.”

“Yeah, thanks, you and the rest of the world are sorry.” You said, somewhat bitterly. “He was the only permanent family I had. No one cared about me like he did.” You felt Sam and Barnes shoot you a look of confusion but you didn’t acknowledge it.

“What about the Avengers?”

“Yeah, they were great.” You shrugged slightly. “It just wasn’t quite the same. I was the most important thing to him, you know? Whenever I was feeling off, he was always there with something fun to distract me. Granted, that something fun was usually a new piece of tech he wanted to test, but it always worked to cheer me up. The world misses and mourns Iron Man, the CEO of Stark Industries and Earth’s best defender. No one other than me mourns my dad.” You explained as you noticed a change in Barnes’ demeanor.

“I’m gonna go for a walk.” He announced.

“You good?” Sam tried.

“Yeah. See you in a bit.” He nodded before taking off.

You lingered outside while Zemo went in. Sam turned in the doorway when he realized you hadn’t moved.

“Little Stark?” Sam asked. “You coming?”

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” You commented, pointing in the direction Barnes went. 

“Yeah but he’s weird.” Sam chuckled. “You know that…. Oh! I see what this is.”

“It’s not that.” You shook your head with an annoyed sigh.

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“Seriously? He’s our friend.”

“You don’t see me chasing after him.” Sam shrugged. “He’s a grown man, Y/N. If he wants to brood and take a walk, let him.”

“You didn’t see it.. Something caught his attention and made him leave.”

“Well I don’t just stare at him so no, I didn’t see anything.”

“Nat taught me to constantly watch my surroundings. To keep my head on a swivel… He saw something I didn’t, but I saw him see it. I just don’t know what exactly he saw.”

“Just come inside.” He sighed. “You can interrogate him when he comes back.”

“ Or I just go check on him… Cause I’m grown too and don’t have to listen to you.” You said carefully, hurrying after Barnes. You heard protests from Sam but none made you turn.

You made it to the alley where Barnes turned. You knelt at the corner, feeling the ground and knocking your knuckles against the stone. You closed your eyes to focus, picturing Barnes and an incoming familiar figure. With an amused smile, you turned the corner.

“Ayo.” You said happily. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“You followed me.” Barnes said, moderately annoyed.

“You made it easy enough.” You muttered before turning to the Dora.

“What brings you to Latvia?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Y/N.” She greeted respectfully. “I’m here for Zemo.” 

#ptyy sin miedo #sin miedo #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #winter soldier #tfaws #faws #tfaws fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #tfaws bucky #sam wilson #captain america #falcon and winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier fic #marvel #marvel x reader #stark reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #yn stark #bucky x yn #mcu fic #marvel fic #mcu x reader #mcu x you #marvel x you

[woahajimes]

One of my favourite issues of comics ever is that one issue in The Brave And The Bold (#83) that’s from the late 60s and in which Thomas and Martha have this family friend or business partner and they signed this legal document in which if they [family friends] were to die, their son (little boy named Lance Bruner) would have to stay with the wayne family. And so one day, the Bruner couple dies, and their son is left orphan. And of course, the document didn’t say Thomas and Martha, instead it said Wayne Family, which is at this point, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. And Bruce of course can’t say no, and he doesn’t even want to (which tells you a LOT about Bruce’s character towards children and just people in general). 

So it turns out that this Lance kid is around Dick’s age (who is with the teen titans, with Roy, Wally, Donna, and occasionally Garth) is a complete troublemaker. He vandalizes police cars and does other stuff, and guess who takes the blame. Dick.

And he [Dick] tells the teen titans that he does it because Lance needs a friend, which could be true, and they all decide to befriend Lance, to see if he like ‘straightens out’. 

As you may guess, that did not go well. Lance flirted with Donna, in quite a disrespectful manner, and he was a literal jackass. 

And then Lance pulls this thing with a great amount of money, and THIS brings Bruce’s attention, because the police came to the manor, and Bruce is just talking to Lance in the living room, and Lance is just lying over and over, saying how the money was from his parents, that they had left the money for him, in cash, you know the drill. And literally in the basement, the hang-out place for the teen titans, Dick and the titans are there and they’re listening through a vent and they’re like ‘oh my GODDD how is bruce FALLING FOR THIS?!” 

and this just gives me a lot of happiness overall because you can see their characters, and for someone that reads rebirth comics or new 52 (especially new 52), they’ll look at it a bit funny and go ‘well this seems out of character, no?’ and NO! because bruce actually loves his kids!!! and the whole idea of the batfamily, the FANON IDEA OF THE BATFAMILY, in which they’re all getting along and being a FAMILY, would actually be CANON if ONLY dc hadn’t massacred their characters so much. So yeah, hang on to those headcanons. 

At this same time, there’s this thing going around in Gotham with the oil supply I think, and Batman has this deadline to like,,, solve the case. Whatever

I just paid attention to how beautiful this issue is for all the domesticity and the writers actually writing Dick having a BROTHER, and Bruce adopting another kid. It’s just so fascinating and disappointing because how on earth did ANYONE let this happen, Bruce now hitting his kids so often, being such a dark and angry person. ‘Broody’ some say. Because let’s face it, Bruce has that whole ‘dark and gloomy’ persona, because of Gotham. It’s been said so often, that ‘Bruce is Gotham’ ‘Batman is the night and he only wear black’ and all that thing (Also keep in mind that Bruce’s uniform/costume wasn’t even black, it was blue- purple in other runs- with yellow and gray). 

(also can i please bring to attention that Bruce has actually- here, look at it. 

Don’t tell me this bruce is completely different from the ‘hrn’ bitch we have now)

As I was saying, there’s the oil case in Gotham, and nobody wants that, and Lance is begging for forgiveness, that he’ll ‘be good’, he says. 

And he IS. For a while.

Now bruce is fighting with some guys that have a lot to do with the oil thing, and in that one, Lance is like “wow Bruce and Dick do leave the house quite often, eh?” And then -catch this, it’s literally my favourite thing about comics- Lance finds a button in the elevator, and he goes “WOW! a super-secret button that leads to a super-mysterious place??? wack!” and then he finds out Bruce’s and Dick’s identities. 

Not such a great boy after all, right?

Long story short, and I’m summarizing it because I actually know little of the actual vigilante plot, but Robin gets shot.

“that boy meant more to me than anything in life” Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? Just let that little line sink in for a little, just... let it sink in. Bruce has just seen Robin get shot. And this happens. 

Later, though, we find out that ‘Robin’ had actually been Lance, so in the end, Lance died, in the same literal issue he was introduced.

This was Lance as Robin, but Bruce didn’t know this. Bruce was convinced that Dick was dead. And did you hear what he said? God... 

#dick grayson #the brave and the bold #lance bruner #bruce wayne #donna troy #teen titans #roy harper #batfamily #robin #batman #batman and robin #detective comics #batfam #is this a meta #no this is an analysis #i wanna make more of these

[fruitydiaz-archived]

that's what i want for him

post-eddie begins | eddie meets with his attorney to change his will | a little feelings realization | a little pining | a little buckley-diaz family moment

4,097 words

AO3 link

The day that Eddie has his appointment with his attorney to alter his will, he’s sick with nerves.

He thought he had made peace with his own mortality a long time ago, when he enlisted and found himself pinned down, a world away from his family and bleeding out in the middle of a warzone — but something about the official stature of a will has always made him feel nervous.

He’s still young, and he has no plans to die anytime soon, but who really does? Shannon certainly hadn’t planned on it either. Dealing with grief is hard enough as is, especially when it’s the loss of a parent, and if Eddie can make that experience any more bearable for Chris, then that’s what he’s going to do.

Ever since Shannon died, he’s had his parents down as Christopher’s legal guardians should anything happen to him. It wasn’t a decision he ever felt comfortable with — but he didn’t have anyone else, and he didn’t really have a choice. He had to make sure that Christopher had someone in case things went wrong on a call.

But since the well came down — well, before that actually. Ever since the tsunami, ever since the lawsuit, ever since the skateboard accident — Eddie’s known that he needs to adjust his will, because in none of those situations were Eddie’s parents around to make sure Christopher was okay.

Buck was.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care. They certainly called Eddie after they heard the news about the tsunami. They asked if Christopher was okay (not him, Christopher), and made their usual comments about how Texas would be so much safer for him — they hadn’t had both an earthquake and a tsunami over the last year. They made sure they did their best to let Eddie know that he was making a mistake keeping Chris there, that he was making a mistake not relocating him after he lost his mom, that Chris was going to get seriously hurt one of these days and it would be his fault. They said all of the things he knew they would.

But they weren’t there.

The well was a close call — too close — and in that moment when the mud came down on top of him and the water started to fill his lungs — he realized he couldn’t leave Christopher with them. Not when there was someone else right there, someone who loved Christopher the way he did, someone who would do anything for him, someone who understood him.

He’s still reeling from the accident a bit, as he sits in the office, bouncing his leg up and down and trying hard to tamp down his nerves and failing, as you do after near-death experiences. He keeps having to remind himself that he’s not down there anymore, that there isn’t water all around him, that he can breathe perfectly fine, that he’s on solid ground now.

He has to remind himself that when he fell, Buck and Hen were there to grasp his hands and pull him back up. He’s okay.

“Mr. Diaz?” A voice calls to his left. He looks up to see his attorney in the doorway, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She smiles at him politely.

She’s a tall, fairly nondescript woman, with soft, quiet features, and thick curly black hair that’s always pulled back into a bun. She always comes dressed in suits but leaves her suit jacket draped over the back of her chair, moving about her office and greeting clients in soft cashmere sweaters.

She always seems to be wearing a smile — but not in an unsettling way. When Shannon was still around, when Eddie was warming up to the idea of welcoming her back into his life, Eddie had made some comment about her having middle school teacher energy — the kind of middle school teacher that still enjoyed working with kids but also took them seriously and didn’t allow any room for bullshit — and Shannon had laughed at him for using the word energy. She said something about Buck rubbing off on him and he rolled his eyes.

It’s just that she reminds him of someone, someone from his past — but he just can’t ever place her. He’s always been bad with faces. But there’s something familiar and grounding about her, something that helped Eddie feel calm when he first met her. But today, she doesn’t calm his nerves.

He feels sick.

He hasn’t seen her since Shannon died.

He stands up and wipes his shaking hands against his jeans, following her into her office.

When Eddie imagined an attorney’s office, when he was a little younger and more naive, he imagined it being small, cramped, with overflowing filing cabinets against one wall and bookshelves filled with boxes of legal documents and binders and books filled with rules and statutes that he could never dream of understanding. He imagined it as something that would make him feel small and cramped — and that the lawyer on the other side of the desk would peer over their tiny wireframe glasses at him and scrutinize every decision he made.

But Stacy’s office is different — it’s calmer, more minimalist. Her walls are a cool white that contrasts against all of the black furniture. The boxes on her shelves are a uniform grey with white labels with little script that’s illegible to Eddie. She even has a little bonsai tree on her desk. It reminds him of a therapist’s office — one that Shannon tried to make him see earlier on in their marriage, between deployments. Sometimes he can appreciate the universe’s weird sense of humor. Today he doesn’t.

He hates having to be here, having to deal with all of the weird legal aspects of living and dying, but he’s doing this for Christopher, so he swallows his nerves.

“I understand you’re wanting to change your will?” Stacy begins, pulling Eddie’s file onto her desk and flipping it open. He nods.

“Yes, I just want to make an adjustment to the legal guardianship — for Christopher,” She nods for him to continue. “After last year, I changed it so my parents would be his legal guardians. I’d like to change it again.”

Stacy smiles softly at him again before pulling something up on her computer. She opens a drawer and retrieves some blank paperwork and sets it on her desk.

“And who will you be changing it to?”

“His name is Evan Buckley. He’s...my friend. Coworker, actually, but...he understands Chris better than they do. Or ever could, really.”

Stacy nods, writing Buck’s name down on the paper before setting the pen down, folding her hands together again, and studying Eddie.

“So, last year when we adjusted your will after your wife passed, I remember your parents being here with us,” She says, and it’s not unkind or pointed in any way, but her words still make Eddie shift in his chair, like he’s done something wrong.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, clearing his throat.

“And Mr. Buckley isn’t here with us today.”

“No,” Eddie says, picking at a loose strand in the hem of his jeans. “He’s working a shift today.”

“I see, are you sure you don’t want him to be present for this? It’s a big decision.”

Eddie blinks at her before shifting his eyes around the room.

“Does he need to be here?”

“No, not at all. We normally encourage both parties to be here, but I’m sure you’ve gotten his consent already, it’s just a formality, really,” Stacy smiles and turns back to her file, picking the pen up again, and opening her mouth to ask another question, when Eddie interrupts her.

“Do I need to have, um, written consent or something to do this? I don’t remember my parents having to sign anything.”

Stacy looks back up at Eddie. For a moment neither of them says anything. She slowly sets her pen back down.

“It’s not required, but it is recommended. This is a big decision, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trusting someone as your child’s legal guardian isn’t something to be taken lightly — especially when they’re not family.”

Eddie frowns — he’s not taking this lightly. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. Every morning when he sits down with Christopher to have breakfast it’s a reminder that he almost lost this. Every time he comes home to Christopher after a long day of work there’s a sense of relief that he’s never felt before — he got to come home again. When he sees the drawings of Shannon that Christopher did that Eddie keeps locked in his nightstand — unable to throw them away, but definitely not keeping them anywhere where Chris could find them again — he remembers how close Chris came to losing another parent.

When he thinks about Chris being uprooted, ripped out of this life they built in California just to be dragged back to Texas, with parents like his who always think they know what’s best but never allow room for adjustments, with parents he knows will stifle him — it’s heartbreaking. He knows this is the right decision.

But Stacy doesn’t give him the opportunity to say all of that, and she continues to press, gently.

“You have had a conversation about this with him?” Eddie shrinks in his chair a bit.

“No, we haven’t — we haven’t talked about it. But, look, you don’t know Buck, okay? This isn’t,” He pauses, waving his hand while he tries to figure out what to say. “A couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident. It was pretty bad, and — I could’ve died. I was drowning and all I could think about was how I couldn’t leave Chris alone. And then, if I did die, how miserable he would be with my parents. I mean, you met them.”

Stacy doesn’t respond.

“Well, I was raised by them, so — I know what they’d be like, and I don’t want that for Christopher. Buck would do anything for Christopher. Already has. He’s...it’s him. I want him to be Christopher’s guardian, you know, if anything ever happens.”

Stacy nods and sits back in her chair.

“Eddie,” She starts, breaking formality. “Listen, I understand. This kind of thing happens more often than you’d think. There’s a kind of clarity that comes to people when they have a close encounter with death. I imagine it was especially clarifying for you, so soon after your wife’s death.”

She sits up again and studies Eddie carefully.

“I just want to make sure that you’re aware — if something happens and you haven’t told Mr. Buckley, he could refuse.”

Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

“No,” He says confidently. He looks at Stacy again, dead in the eye so that she knows he’s serious. “He wouldn’t do that. Believe me.”

“And if your family tries to fight it?” Eddie looks away then, and his eyes get a little distant. He smiles a small, private smile, before looking back at Stacy.

“They won’t ever fight as hard as him. Trust me.”

Stacy holds his gaze for a moment.

You learn a lot about people when you’re in her line of work — people come in all of the time and show her their hands, inadvertently pouring their hearts out, and revealing everything that’s most important to them as they sort out their estates. She’s seen plenty of people make weird, terrible, stupid, and callous decisions in the event of their death. She’s seen plenty of people come in after a close call and make hasty, half-baked decisions that she doesn’t have the power to counsel them against.

But, with her admittedly limited understanding of who Eddie Diaz is as a person, he’s not the kind of person who makes hasty, half-baked decisions, especially not when it comes to what he loves most — Christopher. They’ve only seen each other a few times: when Eddie first moved to LA and was altering his will, and when Shannon died. She’s seen him worn, tired, dragged down by grief. From what she sees, he’s a man who’s burdened by the need to do what's right for everyone else around him.

When he came in with his parents the year before, he had seemed small, and it had struck her. She remembered him from their first meeting as an army man with strong shoulders and a jaw set with stubborn determination — but then he just seemed like a child.

The man in front of her now is somewhere in between, softened by the home he’s clearly made for him and his son here. He’s still worn, a little shaken after his incident, still clearly grieving the loss of his wife, but the look in his eyes is strong and sure.

And as much as she would prefer that Mr. Buckley, or Buck, as Eddie keeps calling him, were here, she can clearly tell the difference in how Eddie feels about him versus his parents by the way he talks. He didn’t say much when his parents were in her office, just nodded along to what they said and made quiet, reserved comments to affirm their decisions. At the time, she wasn’t sure if it was the grief or their presence that was making him small — but she gets it now. Buck clearly understands Eddie in a way that few people have before.

She just hopes that Eddie talks to him about it soon — because the man does seem to be a kind of magnet for life-threatening situations, and she would really prefer not to have to break the news to a surprised, grief-stricken Evan Buckley herself. That’s her least favorite part of the job.

But she doesn’t press any further — Eddie’s made his case and Stacy’s certain she won’t be able to convince him to hold off any longer to at least talk to Buck, and they finish sorting out the paperwork.

Stacy sends Eddie off with the promise to get in touch with him when the changes to his will are finalized, and a gentle suggestion to talk with Buck soon.

He’s out the door feeling a dozen pounds lighter.

Eddie considers telling Buck after that, he really does. He understands that it’s probably something he should hear about sooner rather than later. But something holds him back, something makes him want to keep those cards close to his chest, and he’s not sure why.

He doesn’t tell anyone, not for a while. He really should tell his parents — and he will, eventually — but he’s not really looking forward to that particular conversation. He can already hear their arguments in his head, how Buck is in just as dangerous a profession as he is, how Buck is a stranger — not family, how he’s barely known this man for two years when they’ve known him his whole life — that one will make him laugh, he’s sure.

The first person he tells ends up being Carla.

It’s a few weeks later and he’s chatting with her on the phone, chopping up vegetables in the kitchen, helping prep dinner while Chris and Buck are playing games in the living room.

He’s been thinking about broaching the topic all night, now that he’s gotten a chance to be alone with Buck, but he feels a little anxious at the idea — even though he knows Buck won’t refuse. It just feels like a big thing that they probably won’t ever have to deal with — it’s not like he plans on dying.

But the idea is fresh in his mind, so it shouldn’t be that surprising when Carla asks him what’s new and he responds, “I changed my will.”

She doesn’t say anything for a second, and Eddie glances down at his phone to make sure the call didn’t get disconnected on accident.

“Oh?” Carla asks, clearly surprised. “What made you change it?”

“The well,” Eddie says, sliding some chopped carrots off the cutting board and into a bowl. He hears Carla hum in acknowledgment, then smiles as he hears Buck shout from the living room. Chris beat him, again. He’s alive, he’s okay.

“What exactly did you change?”

“Christopher’s legal guardianship...you know, if anything like that happens again and, uh, I don’t make it,” He tries to say this casually, but his throat starts to close up again at the end. He coughs.

“Who’d you change it to?” Carla asks, her voice soft. Eddie pauses, then steps away from the counter, peeking around the corner to check on Buck and Chris. The volume of their game is loud — too loud, really — but they’re engrossed in it, and Eddie’s comfortable with the thought that they can’t overhear his conversation. He walks back to his phone.

“Buck,” He admits quietly.

“Did you talk to him about this?” Carla asks, eventually, and it strikes Eddie how well she knows him. She doesn’t even sound surprised that he made Buck Christopher’s legal guardian.

When he doesn’t respond, he hears Carla sigh.

“Eddie, this is the kind of thing you should talk to him about. If something happens and he suddenly finds out from your lawyer—“

“He’s not gonna refuse,” Eddie says confidently.

“No, and I didn’t say that he would. It would just be fair to him to tell him before, God forbid, something happens to you and he has to hear it from a stranger instead of his best friend.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Carla,” Eddie says, and he wants to feel confident as he says it, wants it to come off light-hearted and joking, but he’s still terrified and his voice betrays him.

“I know you’re not, honey,” Carla says sympathetically. “But we both know that anything can happen to any one of us, any day. I know I don’t need to remind you of that.”

Eddie nods, even though Carla can’t see him, and continues chopping vegetables.

“It’s just,” Eddie pauses, working out his words. “I don’t — should I tell Christopher? Maybe he should know first.”

“How did you do it when you changed it with your parents last year?” Eddie shrugs.

“Wasn’t really my decision. They were here, they decided it should be them, they told Christopher, we went to my attorney and made it happen. This time...this time it was my choice. And I don’t really know what to do here.”

He lets out a shaky laugh and finds himself, surprisingly, wishing Shannon was here.

It’s one of those things that happens after you lose someone you love — you forget all of the bad parts of your relationship and start to miss the good. He wishes she was here right now, chopping vegetables, teasing him for being useless in the kitchen. He wishes he wasn’t having this conversation right now. He wishes he didn’t feel so old, so marked by death.

He hears Christopher’s victory shout from the living room again, and his heart races to latch onto it. As long as he has his kid, everything’s okay. He wouldn’t take anything back — not for this. Christopher’s happy now.

Then he hears Buck laughing good-naturedly, hears him lowering the volume, and then listens as Chris tries to wheedle another round out of him.

“Come on, buddy, it’s time for me to start dinner. I gotta make sure your dad doesn’t burn any of our dinner in there, or accidentally chop a finger off cutting vegetables. Let’s go get you washed up and then we can help him out, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t hear Christopher’s response, he imagines it was something like a groan and a not-so-subtle eye roll, but he registers the sound of the TV cutting off and Buck’s weight lifting up off the couch. A couple of seconds later and there’s the sound of running water in the bathroom down the hall, and Christopher giggling over the noise.

Everything’s okay.

“Look, Carla, I’m sorry to cut this short but — Buck’s here and he’s about to come help me out in the kitchen, so, I gotta—“

“Just breathe, Eddie. You’ll figure it out, okay? Just make sure you tell him soon.” Eddie hums, noncommittal, and he’s pretty sure he can hear the way Carla shakes her head fondly. “And give that boy a kiss for me, will you?”

“Christopher or Buck?” Eddie jokes before he can stop himself. He freezes, knife hovering mid chop. He hears the water in the bathroom shut off and starts to panic, for some reason he can’t explain. That’s a normal joke to make about your friend, right? Carla would totally kiss him if she was here.

“Whichever one you want,” Carla says after a while, quiet and knowing.

“Hey, is that Carla?” Buck asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Great, thanks Carla, bye,” Eddie rushes, flustered and scrambling to end the call. He turns back around to face Buck, who’s looking at him quizzically.

“I was just gonna say hi?” He says, tilting his head to the side. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Great,” Eddie says, unconvincingly. Buck raises an eyebrow. “Um, fine, just — not sure...how many...potatoes you need me to chop?”

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. He studies him, eyes flicking over his face, mentally running through his memory to see if Eddie’s been off lately. And, well, he has — he almost died a couple of weeks ago.

Eddie’s caginess isn’t hard to read — but Buck’s gotten pretty good at knowing when’s the right time to push and when’s the right time to sit back and wait, let Eddie come to him. As much as he doesn’t like it, this is a sit back and wait kind of situation.

He regards Eddie one last time before stepping up to the counter next to him, his hand hovering behind Eddie’s back. Eddie really wants to know why that makes him nervous all of a sudden. They’re close to each other all the time, practically touching each other constantly, but right now proximity to Buck is making it hard to breathe. Buck’s only got a couple of inches on him but it feels like he’s towering over him. It’s making him a little dizzy.

“I’m pretty sure this is enough,” Buck says, sliding away from Eddie and pulling a tray out of the cabinet by the stove, blissfully unaware of the way Eddie’s heart is racing in his chest. “I told Christopher he could help so I figured he could season the vegetables? I’ll measure the spices out for him so we don’t end up eating pure salt like we did last time.”

He sends Eddie a wink as he says that and then turns around, pulling spices out of Eddie’s cabinets and grabbing these tiny bowls that Eddie didn’t even know he had. He’s stunned, watching Buck move around the kitchen with ease, like this isn’t the hundredth time Buck has been over to cook them dinner.

It feels a little like he stepped into some alternate reality, like everything is exactly as it should be but something’s just slightly off. Something’s shifted, but he’s not sure what.

When Christopher comes in moments later, Buck gets him set up at the table easily, letting him sit himself and setting his crutches to the side, placing the tray down in front of him with all of the spices in reach, and pointing out what each of them are and explaining how they flavor the food.

He drizzles the oil over the vegetables and then lets Chris go for it, dumping the bowls over the tray and then getting in there with him, using their hands to coat them all evenly. And that, of course, is Christopher’s favorite part. While Eddie’s still processing, the kitchen’s filled with the sounds of Christopher laughing and Buck laughing along with him, encouraging the way he tosses each vegetable around to cover it in spices.

Eddie stands at the counter, still stunned, but warm all over. This is the kind of thing that keeps him going, the kind of thing that keeps him fighting when things get hard. It’s the kind of thing that Eddie will tuck inside his heart as a precious memory that will come back to him in the future whenever things inevitably get dark again.

He doesn’t want to tell Buck about the guardianship yet. He’ll tell Christopher first, and then his parents, and then, whenever the moment’s right, then he’ll tell Buck.

He’s not in any kind of rush. Things are perfect right now, and he just wants to enjoy that for a little bit longer.

#al talks #buddie #911 fox #okay maybe i’ll slow down now that i got this out of my head fjskfj #my fic

[vergess]

@autismserenity​ said: Your tags are the most American thing I’ve ever read, we are truly so screwed here   

May I interest you in a more complete, and more excruciating, explanation of what I spent the last 18 months doing?

It is, I need to emphasize, fucking nasty. Don’t feel obligated, especiallly if you’ve already had A Day(tm).

There’s a lot of disease, a lot of worker abuse including sexual and racial abuse, a fine portion of letting people die for not being white enough for real medical care, all leading to homelessness.

For NDA reasons, because my former employer was just as vile as any tech company has ever been, I cannot be super specific about who I worked for. However, I can say that we handled the records and patient contact for all COVID testing for several states, as well as 2 of the 5 largest metros in the US, and several dozen smaller ones ranging from the approximate population of San Francisco, down to little towns, as well as the testing for several public school systems and at least two government agencies that I am not at liberty to disclose.

I tell you this for a sense of scale. When I say shit like, “my boss was more than happy to let thousands or hundreds of thousands die” I am not exagerrating for effect. We handled hundreds of thousands of tests a week.

Again, I need to emphasize, government agencies. Ones you would know if I named them. Ones everyone in the country knows.

And we were in charge of getting their test results from the already over swamped labs back to the patients, who often were not allowed to quarantine while awaiting results.

The fastest we got our turnaround time to on any consistent basis was about 30 hours. Often it ballooned well into weeks.

There were a number of factors for this, but the big one was always understaffing.

The staff we did have were treated like trash. One of the big selling points of this company is how “trans friendly” it is to work there. That is a lie. Every trans employee on payroll had their dead name displayed to all other staff, and until I personally changed the system setup on my arrival, patient facing trans people’s dead names were displayed to patients.

Remember that thing about “hundreds of thousands of tests a week”?

I was able to change the way patient-facing names were displayed. I was not allowed or able to alter the way internal systems displayed trans people’s names. But I was assured that it’s fine, because once you get a legal name change, you’ll be given new system accounts with your new name!

Your old accounts with your dead name would still be displayed and associated with the new ones though.

This is the “trans friendly” working environment. We were allowed to be out of the closet, as long as we were willing to put up with that. And any attempts to get it altered were the result of those nasty little transgender ingrates not being thankful enough.

Meaning that by asking to use our own fucking names we were already in the disciplinary shitter.

Another big selling point is the ~racial diversity~. The CEO was a man of colour, and so were like four other people on staff!! Wow!!!!!!!

This, too, was laughable.

Once numbers started coming in about the care gap for COVID between English and Spanish speakers, and our Southwestern US service area began to have a separate and brutal backlog just of Spanish speaking patients, my employer encouraged me to interview potential hires who speak spanish.

Fair enough! We all wanted to do our part to help close the already massive mortality gap.

So, I found candidates, did interviews, hired them, trained them, etc. But I don’t speak Spanish. As a result, I appointed 2 assistant managers who do speak Spanish to assist me in managing, you know, like the job name.

So when my super contacted them directly, completely skipping me on the chain of command, and told them to stop all of our Spanish speakers from translating helpful simple messages to send to patients, and instead start translating medical and legal documents, they very reasonably assumed I was in the know and went ahead with it.

TO BE CLEAR, that could have ended my life, theirs, basically everyone involved. Everyone in the company would have been completely fucked. At that point, my subordinates, the people for whom I am wholly responsible, were doing everything from practicing medicine without licenses, to encouraging spanish speaking patients to enter contracts that no one on the fucking executive tier could even read.

The moment I found that out, I and the A.M.s immediately started trying to get actual medical translation services to do our documents. We collected them in a neat folder. We queried translation services. We got quotes. We contacted my super and the CEO, about this over and over again for months. In the late autumn, we received approval for one of the translation services.

The CEO decided at the last minute that having people with no medical or legal training draft medical and legal forms was fine and good actually, and refused to sign the contract or send the documents for translation.

The excuse I received was that the COVID emergency HIPAA relaxations would protect us.

That’s not how that works.

Throughout all of this, Spanish speaking employees were told to either keep doing medical and legal translation work, or lose their jobs.

Oh, did I mention everyone was working between 30 and 80 hours a week, and all of us were marked as “contractors” so the employer could tax evade? Don’t worry, we filed complaints with the labour bureau.

So the entire department was let go, and “rehired” as temps through a temp agency, which because it was a temp agency could keep them marked as contractors regardless of the facts.

This change was presented to all of us, myself included, as the company getting a new accountant to handle payroll.

So if you’re keeping score, we’ve covered racism, queerphobia, medical negligence, fraud, and a frankly uncountable number of deaths.

Let’s talk about the sheer negligence towards employees ourselves. If you’ve worked in near-death medical care before, or any number of emergency services really, you know that the standard benefit suite includes either a dedicated therapist for your staff, or access to peer support groups with other emergency and medical servants through your employer’s benefits program.

Do you know what our mental health benefits were for this company?

The CEO got on a fucking zoom call with us all one (1) time, and said that if we were feeling suicidal or traumatized by the work, to talk to him about it, and he would be our therapist.

Do you know how many people per fucking day we had to contact only to be told they had already died because our understaffing delays killed them? He doesn’t. He never listened when we told him.

But let me put the cherry on the “Oh baby, you can talk to me, oooh” sundae.

Anyone who “looked” or “sounded” female, regardless of actual or assigned gender, was subject to constant flirtations and slimy, overly personal compliments about our appearances. Fortunately, at 3 levels removed from the CEO (Executives > Department heads > Managers > Employees), most of the people under my management had relatively little contact with him.

I was not nearly so lucky.

The CEO of this company has a watersports (urination) fetish. I know this, because he told me so and attempted to get me to join him in it. I have no idea how many other people in the company he did this to. I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do, risk losing my job to find out? I have a fucking family to support, people.

Not that it mattered.

Eventually, all of these abuses became too much for my subordinates. Productivity fell off a cliff. Delays were getting worse and worse. In a medical emergency like this, delays=deaths.

So, like a fucking idiot, when the department heads reached out to me to ask what they could do to improve productivity, I shot down their frankly insulting suggestion of raffling a $20 amazon gift card to patient facing employees, and instead suggested a very simple, “enroll us with a peer support group, every single person in this department has PTSD from working in this pandemic.”

They were confused by my assertion of PTSD. I was asked to compile a document of complaints, concerns, and weaknesses in our patient facing services.

I and the A.M.s did so. It was roughly 40 pages long, with each page given a known problem, the reasons why it was a problem, and some potential solutions that might inspire further solutions or be able to be implemented. We submitted it. There was no response.

A week passed.

I had been working 80 hour weeks for most of a year. I hadn’t even been able to take weekends. I took my first sick day, in a company with “unlimited vacation days.”

I received a call at 3PM.

I had been fired for “differences in communitcation.” If you’ve ever seen that “Problem Women of Color in the workplace” chart? Yeah.

So had most of my department, including every transgender member of the department, and several of our extremely limited in supply Spanish speakers, who were presumed to be “on my side.”

Some of them, I barely even knew beyond the formalities of the job, and they were punished anyway.

I lost my insurance, and as a result I lost access to my medications.

But the real problem? I lost my house. And not due to lack of payment.

I lost my house, because when I got the job we waited 6 months for stability’s sake, and then readied to move out of the area. I got a mortgage on the basis of my employer’s written guarantee to the bank that I would continue to be employed for the next year at a minimum.

With the mortgage approval in hand, we entered a sales contract on our existing home.

We got and accepted an offer just days before I was fired. To keep our house meant paying a 25,000 dollar broken contract fine. We didn’t have that. We had a 10% down payment for a modest fucking place in a cheaper area, which is less than half that.

But without a job, my mortgage approval was also voided, meaning we couldn’t buy a house either.

All of a sudden, we were homeless during the plague, because my employer wrote and signed a letter to a bank guaranteeing my future employ, and then changed his mind when too many people died due to his own negligence.

Oh yeah, one last thing: the job paid less than Pandemic unemployment Assistance.

...After that, well, it’s homelessness until just last month. I... if you’ve never been homeless it’s.

It blurs. Everything is happening constantly, except for all the ways in which you are endlessly, mind breakingly bored. Bored, overloaded, and always uncomfortable.

Obviously my health would have declined regardless. Malnutrition, stress, everything.

But I was also unmedicated.

It was hell. I was in hell. I don’t know if I can recover from it, to be honest.

I bounced back from being homeless as a child. Children are as resilient as they are stupid, and the monstrosity of homelessness was little more than a vaguely remembered loathing and a panicky fear that it would ever happen again.

A child who is dying is worthy of sympathy, even if it is meaningless coos from passers by. If they have family, they may be able to rely on them too.

An adult with the indignity to die homeless and crippled, according to the average passer by, is worthy only of disgust and perhaps even punishment for being such a worthless waste.

My reward for nearly killing myself in a desperate bid to help stem the tide of COVID was the destruction of not only my life, not only my entire family’s lives, but the lives of every single family of every single employee who worked with me.

And you know what’s worse?

Each one of us still did more to limit the lethal impact of COVID than the entire united states government.

It breaks something in you, going through that.

It makes you realize that hope is a fool’s game.

But, I have ever been a fool, and so, I continue to play.

[adiarose]

Destiel Headcanon #10

Cas had asked for Bobby for permission.

Cas had asked for Sam’s blessing.

Cas has asked for Dean to marry him.

They had all said yes.

And then he and dean exchanged rings.

Of course they couldn’t truly get married as stated before. The whole Dean dying legally three or four times, Dean being a murderer, Dean supposedly kidnapping the president before dragging him to a hotel for some unknown satanic ritual. The government tends to frown upon such things. And Cas was a angel. He didn’t exist as far as documented accounts of births could tell.

But damned if that meant anything to them. So Dean, Cas, and Sam decided to take a week off. Just one in November as a spur of the moment kind of decision. They drove to the abandoned barn in Illinois where Dean had first summoned the angel along side Bobby.

It still had the graffiti on it. Paint, marker, chalk, and blood drawing of summoning sigils on the walls and doors. Ones to hold monsters in place on the ground as well on parts of the ceiling which had open slots where planks of wood use to be. Leaving just a bit of moonlight to enter the barn. Just as it had when Castiel first introduced himself to Dean. Cordially at least. The whole saving him from hell thing Dean couldn’t remember.

They had heard that Garth had been driving through before returning to his family in Wisconsin. Knowing that he had been ordained as well as a dentist before the Supernatural consumed his life, they asked for a brief visit in the barn which he agreed to immediately. Garth arrived a few minutes after Dean, Sam, and Cas. Sam had asked about the first time they met. Dean was still describing how freaked out he was in those moments when Garth entered. Drawing each individual in for a hug. Specifically Castiel whom he was excited to meet. Especially since he named one of his children after him.

Sam stood at the side acting as their witness. Garth was at the opening of the barn doors performing as the officiant. Dean and Cas faced one another. And they went through a simple ceremony.

In a true wedding of course the spouses must sign legal documents before actually being declared married. But frankly, Dean and Cas were together. And they were together forever. That was it. It was the barest truth known to man. The moment they decided to become a couple they knew that the other was their forever. Because they had chosen one another time and time again, damn the consequence. They loved each other and it was just a fact. The day they started to date, was the day they swore themselves into each others lives just as couples do on the day of their wedding. And that was just romantically. Neither the man nor angel could account for the exact moment where they became a integral part of the others life. Became ride or die for one another.

So they performed the ceremony. They kissed. Dean, Sam, and Cas bid a temporary farewell to Garth. And then they drove home.

I’m not sure how I feel with this. It kind of feeds into specific other headcanons and I would really like you all to tell me if I should just try again at the wedding prompt. It just feels off. Please comment honestly because I really don’t know.

#Supernatural #SPN #Destiel #Dean winchester #Castiel #Destiel wedding #sam winchester #garth

[0606-hyuck]

a letter to my lover | huang renjun

♡  dear y/n, i’m writing you this letter in the hopes that it gets to you well. our relationship has been tumultuous, that’s for sure, and i thought it was high time i wrote you a letter detailing all the times you said "i love you" that are important to me. 

genre: renjun x reader, extreme angst, supernatural!renjun, demon!renjun

warnings: death, disease, mild profanity, and alcohol consumption

word count: 3.1K

a/n: this is by far my most favourite thing i've ever wrote, i hope you like it just a much as i do!

tagging: the lovely @roses-of-the-moon ♡ @mora134340 @ncteology + @nct-writers

My love,

The first time you said “I love you”, I was trying to scam you out of your 30 acre estate.

You were being sarcastic, of course. I remember that day, back in 1853, as if it were yesterday. You were just finishing up helping your father on the back paddocks when, the second he left you alone for a moment, I came up to the fence and pitched my preposition to you. That day I was using my favourite ruse - a charming fellow from a foreign land interested in trading your property for some vague amount of money in return. I had donned my best waistcoat and breeches, made sure not a hair on my head was out of place, and fixed a practiced salesman smile onto my face. There I was, trying my best to look as expensive as possible, while you were knee deep in cow shit. 

As I explained my deal to you, I remember thinking that this was going to be one of my easier cons - there was a reason I had targeted you and not your father, after all. I simply needed one of the residents of the property to sign below the dotted line on my magically enhanced paper disguised as formal legal documents and bam! The property would be mine. Five minutes talking with you and I’d be the new owner of your estate.

At least, that was the plan. When I finished my sales-pitch, you plainly looked me up and down, scoffed loudly, and stated, “wow, I love you.” You must have noticed how my eyebrows quirked up in curiosity because you added, “the hair, the outfit, the accent, I love it all.” I was still confused until you said, “I especially love how you think that I am going to be deceived by a little boy who looks like he’s playing dress up in daddy’s old clothes. Good try, though. I bet it works on the others in this town who lack the brain capacity to recognise when they’re getting swindled out of their life’s savings.” 

I stood there shocked, firstly because...ouch. Did these clothes really look that bad on me? And secondly, because you were right, this had never happened before. What was I supposed to do now? Luckily, you let me know what my next moves should be when you lobbed a chunk of sloppy cow shit from your work boot onto my pristine waistcoat and promptly told me to get lost.

The thing was, dear, I was a demon. And demons are notoriously deceitful characters. Never in my lifetime - which was a long time - had someone not fallen for my tricks. Okay, so my plan to convince the Founding Fathers of the United States to let me sign the Declaration was a fail, but small, simple scams like this one were foolproof. Until I met you.

The second time you said “I love you”, you were blackout drunk and five seconds away from falling off the bar.

Before I met you, Y/N, I was a traveller. I had lived through the development of new settlements and the discovery of faraway lands, and so I was always off to a fresh destination for a new adventure. When I ventured into your town, I was planning to only pass through, maybe stay a couple of nights before I headed off to my next stop. A quick chat with the inn-keeper who had an exploitable tendency to overshare led me to you, the child of an aristocrat father who happened to own a lot of land that would likely sell for enough money to make me a virtual millionaire. Remarkably, after you turned my offer down, I felt no desire to leave your town. For once in my life, I decided to stay put in one place until I could convince you to change your mind.

I frequented your estate a lot more after that day, much to your dismay. No matter what I said, no matter how sweet I made my words sound, you refused to give up your rights to your land. It was frustrating for me, Y/N, that you wouldn’t give in. At the same time, I acknowledged I could have just walked away and found someone else to scam, but I didn’t want to. You soon accepted the fact that seeing my face around your farm would be a given, and started putting me to work with you. 

Cleaning the horse stables, bundling up handfuls of hay, tending to a vegetable patch. I never saw what we were doing as work, though. For me, I used the time I spent with you to get you to talk about yourself and reveal information I could use as blackmail so you would hand over your estate. You never did, though, and although I realised this I still couldn’t help myself from coming over to your farm every morning. I’m sure your father was confused as to why I was always there, but he never complained because, after all, it was free labour.

Our relationship at this point was very much a love-hate relationship. I despised you for the fact you were immune to my demon charms, but I also couldn’t stay away from you. You hated me because I was constantly asking you to sell your estate, but you couldn’t seem to turn me away when I showed up every morning. Whether we wanted to admit it at the time or not, there was no denying that we were drawn to each other. 

I saw the looks you gave me, Y/N. That time when your father joked about me being your boyfriend, I saw you roll your eyes, but I also saw the way you carefully watched my reaction to your father’s words. You never noticed the way I looked at you when you were busy working, or when your eyes lit up as you talked about your passions. I was too careful to let you see something like that.

When you invited me to the local pub for the first time, you didn’t appear to be worried about being seen in public with an unknown man. I asked why you didn’t just go with some of your aristocrat friends, and you said they couldn’t keep up with your pace of alcohol consumption. Secretly, I was flattered you’d invited me. I quickly found myself regretting accepting the invitation when you ordered multiple rounds of mysterious foul tasting liquor and downed them in quick succession. This was the night that I found out you were a happy drunk.

I didn’t touch a drop of that poison, so you drank my share for me and were soon dragging me off my stool to dance. When the live band realised they had an audience, they picked up the pace and I found myself being swung around in circles by you, pulled in close, and then unceremoniously dipped low before we repeated the routine all over again. 

I was completely sober, but it was fascinating for me to watch how you charmed the socks off other patrons. I remember thinking, for a fleeting second, whether you had some demon blood in you because I’d never seen someone get along with so many others that easily. Together, we teamed up and had the whole pub rambunctiously roaring with laughter well into the night, and even invented our own dance that we taught to the others and then all collectively performed.

I knew it was time for us to take our leave when you pulled yourself onto the bar and attempted a jig (or maybe it was a jive?), looked me in the eye, and told me you loved me. The patrons around us shrieked at your admission, but I was too worried about how close your foot was getting to the bar edge to fully comprehend what you had said. Just as I predicted, you tumbled from the bar straight into my open arms, and without another look back I carried you out of the pub and we headed to your home. When we reached your estate, the same one I had just recently decided to stop trying to con you out of owning, I asked you if you were serious when you said you loved me. You turned, gave me a knowing smirk, tapped the side of your nose, and said, “drunk words are often sober thoughts.”

The third time you said “I love you”, I was giving up everything that made me, me.

“Drunk words are often sober thoughts.” That phrase had become a staple in our relationship in the months since that night at the bar. To us, it meant something along the lines of “you know I love you”. You were now old enough to be married off but much to your father’s chagrin you refused to be, and instead lived in a small cottage at the back of your estate. It soon became my home too, although we never established what our relationship really was. Every time I tried to ask you whether we were exclusive, or whether we were dating, you simply replied, “drunk words are often sober thoughts,” while tapping the side of your nose. Even when your father tried to inquire why I, the unpaid farm boy, was now living with you, you told him the same thing you said to me.

Although our inside joke was ambiguous and a little confusing at times, one thing was glaringly obvious - we were meant to spend the rest of our lives together. Neither of us knew when I had gone from the annoying conman to essentially your live-in boyfriend, nor did we know when our animosity towards each other transformed into affection, but it didn’t matter. We were happy, and drunk words are often sober thoughts. 

The only problem was that I was a demon, and you were human. Because of my immortality, you would die in about sixty years and I wouldn’t have aged a day. At this point, I couldn't imagine living my life without you. I’d stayed in the same town for over a year, for goodness sake! The decision to give up my immortality for you was one of the easiest I’d ever made.

I do regret not telling you what I was planning to do, though. We were two people in love in the 1850s, and I can imagine what your reaction would have been if I told you I was a demon. I’d probably be locked up in a mental institute, or maybe you’d even call the police on me. There is a ritual every demon knows that unbinds them from their immortality, though I have never heard many stories about it actually happening because, after all, who would want to give up their slick demon tongue and literal eternal life?

The day I did the ritual, you had planned to travel to a distant city for trade on behalf of your father, but something happened with your cart and you were forced to turn back, coming home right in the middle of my turning. I like to imagine that I was probably floating mid-air with glowing red eyes, given how loud you screeched when you opened the door. I felt so bad for you, Y/N. You rushed to me and tried to pull me from the ritual, but by this stage I was in a trance, physically unable to move, and the process was irreversible. You probably thought that I was dying, and that you’d have to live without me, because you held me close and for the first time in months you said, “I love you” rather than “drunk words are often sober thoughts.”

A few hours later, the ritual was complete. In your shock at my state, the thought of calling the police (or an exorcist) had vanished from your mind and you’d stayed beside me the whole time. When I was able to, I explained what I’d done and that I’d given up my immortality for you. I’m sure you were scarred from finding me like that, Y/N, but you were just happy that I was alive and safe. Now that the ritual was complete, we could spend the rest of our natural lives loving each other.

Well, that is what we’d hoped, at least.

The last time you said “I love you”, you were dying in my arms.

It happened so quickly, Y/N. So, so quickly. One day you were fine, and the next you couldn’t even get out of bed. I watched powerlessly as you went from a normal, healthy person to someone with an extreme fever, headaches, nausea, and dehydration. Your father and I called the local physician, but even he didn’t know what you were suffering from. He thought it could possibly be the fever that we had seen outbreaks of up north, but there was no cure yet. I was told to make sure you were as comfortable as possible because the disease could take you at any second.

And take you it did.

Your headaches, fever, and nausea were so bad that you spent most of the day screaming with pain, but you eventually were able to fall asleep in the evening. I lay beside you, absolutely unable to close my eyes for even a moment in case something happened. You woke up from a series of restless fits and your eyes were wide open. You gestured wildly for me to come closer, to hold you, so I pulled you into my lap and cradled you near. Your skin was blisteringly hot, and as you looked up at me you managed to say, “I love you, Huang Renjun.”

And that was it. There was no dramatic seizing of your body or vomiting of blood. You just closed your eyes and passed away in my arms. Your skin that was so warm before slowly became cold, and it was only then that I had the sense to call for your family and tell them what had happened. It had only been a few weeks since I’d given up my immortality to live the rest of our lives together. Who would have guessed it would be so short?

I’m sorry if there are tears on this page. Y/N, we just had your funeral. I know you’d be happy at the number of people who turned up to celebrate your life. It was held inside the church with the stained glass windows, the ones you always pointed out when we walked by. I made a wreath out of some wild flowers I found growing on our property. My handiwork was a little bit shabby - I’m still getting used to this less dexterous human body of mine - but I think you would have liked it. Your family, friends, and many people I didn’t even recognise all cried. I cried too, of course. Harder than everyone else combined, I imagine. 

Your father decided you’d want to be buried on the estate you would have inherited when he died, so we picked a serene little space under a great oak tree for you to rest. I think you would have liked that, too.

I don’t exactly know why I am writing this letter. It’s not like I can...send it to you. I am feeling such overwhelming levels of grief right now that I thought writing down my feelings would help, but if you couldn’t tell already by the tear stains, I think it’s just made the pain of losing you even worse. I still haven’t fully accepted the fact that you’re no longer here. I spent the first night without you in our bed, alone. Your father offered me the cottage to live in for free. Since it is part of the estate, it legally belongs to him, and I think he wanted me to have it as a reminder of you. I said no.

I can’t live in a place that is so full of you, where every corner is a reminder of the life we could have had together. It also felt so wrong to have the place I spent so long trying to scam you out of handed over to me for free. I knew I couldn’t do that to you, Y/N. I thought about traveling, too. God, it’s been so long since I’ve done that. Ever since I met you, I finally had a reason to settle down and stay in one place. Anywhere you wanted to go, I would have gone too. But you decided to live in this town, and this is where you died. So I don’t know if I can walk the same streets we walked together without you anymore.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.” Throughout our whole relationship, I never told you I loved you. I always said that instead. It was our inside joke, after all. We never made our relationship official, either, though everyone accepted that we were together. Honestly, I don’t really regret not telling you I loved you, or asking you to be my partner. I know you knew I loved you, the same way I knew you loved me, without ever having to say it. That’s just how our relationship is. How our relationship was.

I also don’t regret giving up my immortality for you. You know I love you, and I would have done anything for you, no questions. It seemed to be the appropriate thing to do at the time, when we thought we would spend the rest of forever together. Sure, I am now stuck in a mortal body with no idea what I am going to do with myself, but there’s no way I could go back to the way I was living, anyway. 

You changed me, Y/N, you completely and utterly changed me. I don’t know what the future holds for me, or how long I will even live for myself, but I hold onto the knowledge that whatever I do, I do it because of you and the influence you had, and will forever have, over me. 

I think, for me, I face a lifetime of missing you, although I know one day we will surely be together again. We were never too vocal about our love for each other, but one thing we both agreed on was that there was almost some metaphysical force willing us to be together, and I doubt that is something that just stops with death.

My hand is starting to cramp up, and it’s getting hard to see the paper due to my tears, so I think I should leave this here. I can’t wait until I see you again, and I just know you will be as beautiful in death as you were in life - that’s just who you are. Remember, “drunk words are often sober thoughts,” Y/N.

Until we meet again,

Renjun.

this is my favourite thing i've ever written because i love to make myself cry!

© 0606-hyuck 2021. All Rights Reserved.

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #dreamwritersnet #nct #nct dream #nct renjun #renjun nct #renjun nct dream #renjun #huang renjun #renjun x reader #renjun imagine #renjun scenario #supernatural nct

[mirrorgrets]

i hate you, i hope you die

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, graphic descriptions of violence

Pairings: Pannacotta Fugo/Giorno Giovanna (but like. barely.)

Wordcount: 2,224 words

Summary: Fugo returns to Passione and everything falls back into place. He's sworn his loyalty to Giorno and Giorno trusts him. But he hates the very same boy who saved him.

The thing is Fugo hates Giorno.

No, that's wrong. It's more like he wishes he hates Giorno.

When he sank to his knees, lips barely grazing Giorno's knuckles, he felt a pit in his stomach growing bigger and bigger as he said his vows. He felt like he signed his life away to this angel of death. For what? For guilt? For nothing? For a lack of understanding as to why he was still alive and not them?

Sometimes he stares at Giorno, notices little details that he doesn't think anyone who doesn't stare at Giorno for too long notices. Details like how he has an odd habit of pulling his collar when he's nervous; like he has a single pockmark just where his jaw meets his neck; like he stands a bit straighter when someone raises their voice; like he raises his hand like he wants to cover his mouth when he laughs; like he cycles through certain hair ties and ribbons throughout the week.

It drives him insane that at this point, he might know more about Giorno than he knows about Bucciarati, Abbacchio, and Narancia combined—and that says a lot. Bucciarati found him when he was thirteen and it was just them for a while. It was just the two of them in Bruno’s apartment, careful footsteps turning into comfort and routine somewhere between the shootouts, the blood, and the stitches. Then Abbacchio arrived with wary eyes and a sharp tongue and way too many apologies before he settled into his actual asshole self. At that point, Fugo moved out into his own apartment which was only two blocks away. Then he found Narancia, maybe out of inspiration from Bucciarati or something, and while they tried to keep him away from the life of a Mafioso, he weaseled in somehow, manifesting a stand fair and square.

Fugo wonders what it might be like to murder Giorno. He dreams of it when goes to sleep, which isn't often because he hardly goes to sleep nowadays and most of the time, sleep catches him and not the other way around.

Sometimes Giorno dies by his hands around his neck, sometimes it's Mista's stolen gun, sometimes it's by an ax, sometimes it's with a tie, sometimes an encyclopedia. But it's never Purple Haze Feedback. Never his own stand. And dream Giorno who's dying knows this all the damn time. Dream Giorno will look at him with the widest eyes like he's looking at God Himself, like he's a revelation meant to be worshipped. Sometimes his hands will cup his cheek (sometimes bloody, sometimes shaky); sometimes he'll push his forehead against Fugo's; sometimes he'll hold Fugo tight, sometimes like he's made of glass; and sometimes he'll lean in far too close and apologize to Fugo.

He hates that he always wakes up before Giorno can take his last breath and hates himself even more for feeling that way.

Fugo avoids Giorno when he can.

Somehow it's easy and at the same time, not. He meets him whenever he receives an assignment, and Giorno looks like he wants to speak to him. But he never pushes and Fugo is allowed to leave and fuck off and kill more people with a gun, a knife, or anything. At times, Fugo will stay just a second more and wonder if Giorno will take a step or half a step like he said he would but he never does so he leaves and wonders why he feels like he just woke up from his fucked up dreams.

When Fugo isn't murdering or interrogating someone, he's usually doing the dull administrative tasks of Passione like sorting through the legal jargon to find loopholes and accounting for logistics or whatever the hell he can get his hands on because he wants to stay busy, damn it.

His chest feels empty most of the time. It's not like he doesn't know why. It might be depression but he doesn't care enough to forge a prescription this time round. Or maybe it's because no one is pushing him to forge a prescription, unlike last time. Or well, Sheila E tries to make him forge a prescription and she did steal a bunch for him, orange canisters full and all. But she doesn’t force him to take them. She doesn’t hang around his shoulder unlike Bucciarati did when he… unlike when Bucciarati did with his straightforward stares and the little notes he left around Fugo’s apartment. She doesn’t make snide remarks unlike Abbacchio and doesn’t keep him company in the dead of night when everything is too loud even when it’s just quiet. She doesn’t remind him like Narancia did with all the subtlety of a douchebag riding a Ferrari.

So the canisters stay full but Fugo keeps them by his bedside because maybe one day and well, he likes the reminder that at least someone cares.

(Murolo does his own thing too but when he does, Fugo’s far too gone to even remember what Murolo does and the man never reminds him so he’s grateful for that too)

It's not like Fugo is afraid of dying. He goes into each mission like he might die and when he comes out alive, buzzing with manic energy that makes him want to break down and punch the nearest object in the vicinity, he's always disappointed. Sometimes he looks at the gun he owns in his bathroom and he wonders if he should just pull the trigger and collapse, his head bashing against the toilet, bleeding out to die if he doesn't hit the right spot.

He pulls the trigger every other day but the cartridge is always empty.

Today is no different from other days. Fugo startles awake, eyes blinking rapidly as he realizes that he did not kill Giorno. He stumbles into his bathroom, washes himself, looks at the mirror, looks at the gun, takes it and points it between his eyes, pulls the trigger, and leaves for work.

When he arrives at Passione's headquarters, he heads straight to his office to look over the legal documents Giorno asked him to look over. He doesn't bother to greet anyone since no one bothers to greet him. He's the traitor of Passione and he's fine with that. It keeps people away which means there are fewer people to perform for and fewer people to try to keep away.

The day goes by as usual. Fugo works through his pile until there’s almost nothing there and then some guy he never got to learn the name of drops a bunch of more work for him to do just before lunch. And Fugo won’t eat lunch until he’s burnt out or Sheila E comes to collect him from his office and forces him to eat. Fortunately for him, Sheila E is away on a mission with Murolo so he can do whatever he wants to do without anyone giving him those disappointed stares.

In all honesty, Fugo feels like he’s mellowed down. The six months away from Passione forced him to at least hold back most of his anger and he played piano in some restaurant as a job and he was good at it.

But he didn’t enjoy it. After playing, he would go home, wreck his already shitty apartment and return everything back to how it was before he crashed on his couch. So maybe the reason why he feels like he’s submerged underwater half the time because he feels like he’s playing a piece on the piano before he has to go home, just going through the motions, and pretending.

Fugo stretches his arms and looks at the clock on his desk. 10:45 pm. Time to head home then.

Then it all comes crashing down.

Or more like, Fugo feels like he’s been ripped out of the water, like he’s gone on those stupidly high and fast waterslides that children aren’t allowed on because when you hit the water, you tumble around and experience some kind of vertigo, except it’s in reverse and it feels worse.

Because today is the last day he saw all of them alive. The last day they were all together as a team. The last day before he betrayed them, except he always felt like they betrayed him and not the other way around.

He’s never even visited their graves.

It hits him so hard that he stumbles out of his office and he doesn’t care if there are people around because he just needs to get out, get out, get out.

He’s in the garden before he knows it, and he sinks into the grass and tries to breathe because what the fuck, he feels like he stopped breathing that day and only remembered to breathe now. He feels like crying but he keeps it in and just tries to remember how to properly push air in and out of his lungs even if it stings because in the past, there would always be a warm hand on his back and a soothing voice, and he knows that person will never stand behind him anymore and give comfort because he’s dead.

Minutes pass by and slowly, Fugo can breathe like normal again even if he’s so fucking tired. He collapses on the grass and stares at the night sky, distantly remembering his astronomy lessons when he was still Pannacotta Fugo, child of the wealthy Fugos.

He can hear grass being stepped on and gentle footsteps approaching him and it’s no surprise to see golden curls hanging low and emerald eyes staring back at him.

Fugo hates Giorno so, so much.

"I hate you," Fugo tells his boss. "I wish you were dead. I hope you die the most painful death possible."

Giorno blinks. "Okay. That's fine." He says, slowly. "You're not the only one who wants that."

"When I sleep, I dream that I kill you. I've killed you hundreds of times." Fugo continues, slowly pulling himself up and sitting down beside the most powerful boy in Italy, their knees almost brushing.

Giorno doesn’t shy away, instead, he moves closer to Fugo and their knees are touching. “How do you kill me?” His voice is barely above a whisper and Fugo would laugh if he could but this isn’t the time.

"Different ways. Sometimes I strangle you, sometimes I shoot you, sometimes I hit you with a book, sometimes I stab you."

"No Purple Haze?"

Fugo pauses but shakes his head. "No Purple Haze," he confirms.

Giorno is silent for a minute more and Fugo looks back at the stars, his mind silent for the first time in months.

“I’m sorry. I’m not good at this,” Giorno finally says and he flops down on the grass. “I should’ve let Mista get you.”

Fugo snorts. “Why? Mista doesn’t care,” there’s no malice in his voice, and it’s just a fact.

“No, he does. It’s just… you know, he needs time,” Giorno explains. “Just like you needed time.”

Fugo leans in closer to Giorno and he realizes this is the first time they’ve spoken to each other in months, like, really spoken to each other. It almost feels like a dream when Giorno lifts his hand up and touches Fugo’s cheek like he’s made of glass.

“I hate you,” Fugo says, leaning more into Giorno’s hand. “I wish they were the ones alive and I was the one who died. I wish they were the ones alive and that you never came into our lives.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m glad you’re alive,” Giorno says, eyes wide and far too bright. Fugo wants to pull away because his mind is starting to catch up and time away from Passione taught him some things academia and murder couldn’t teach him.

“This doesn’t usually work like this either,” Fugo points out.

Giorno uses his other hand to pull Fugo closer and Fugo can see more things he’s sure no one’s never noticed before like the fact that Giorno has the lightest freckles on his face and that his lashes are really long. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better now,” Giorno tells him. “You should go visit a therapist. We can visit the graves together. I’ll make sure you eat lunch somehow.”

Fugo wants to laugh again but all he feels is a year's worth of grief finally burst and he’s crying again like he did in the restaurant except it feels more real rather than that half-assed performance that felt too perfect and picturesque. Giorno pulls him even closer until there’s no space between them and Fugo buries his face into the crook of Giorno’s neck and feels Giorno hold him tighter.

“I thought that giving you space would be better. I’m really sorry, Panna. I felt like I came off as too much when we first met again. Then I didn’t know how to push anymore and really, that’s no excuse but I’ll do better.” Giorno whispers.

“You’re good, don’t worry,” Fugo takes a shaky breath, half lying, half telling the truth. “Don’t worry.”

Fugo peels him away from Giorno and helps his boss up. Their foreheads are touching and Giorno’s holding onto his hand so gently, it makes Fugo feel sick again. But he squeezes back and knows that they’ll be okay one day.

Not today, but one day.

Notes: wrote this last night listening to fiona apple and just thinking abt phf and how fugo is 16 and giorno is 15 and they're probably not as in touch w their feelings like they might think they are :| or something lol

if u have thoughts or anything feel free to tell me in the comments :>

#peace out i will never write anything for this again #i think #fugio #fanfic #jjba #purple haze feedback #jojo's bizzare adventure #vento aureo #golden wind

[bethchapelsbonnet]

I Dont remember if it Was on you're Ways to Tell ILY Prompt list but might I suggest a "I Choose you" Hournite One shot?

I didn't see you interact with the original submission I answered, so I included it here

I Choose You

All of the fuss that Beth went through to try to compile each and every piece of evidence that someone may need in order to get Rick the heck out of that place was simply... Well - it was actually exhausting, but she never realized until she was at the end of her days.

The database was always excellent and as the official Dr. Mid-Nite, she had access to even more information.

Not what she truly needed - to be able to actually speak to Rick. To assess how he was doing. To at least hold his hand, which.. she was conflicted about that one in particular. She didn't understand why that idea kept coming to her when she and Rick never actually really touched each other that way.

Casually - pats on the back or holding each other back in a fight, but nothing so intimate as hand holding. Maybe it was her renewed self confidence. She had chosen herself. And now, she was choosing Rick. 

They didn't allow any of them to see him. He was currently being held at a juvenile center, assigned a caseworker and a child advocate attorney, with an ongoing investigation about his uncle and his home life. But, Beth found out the names of everyone involved in his case and she was sending them documents, school reports, and everything that she could scrape up to prove that Rick was in a dangerous household and had been abused and mistreated. 

It was her hope that they would all see it was self defense and go easy on him. Courtney and Pat had tried to explain to her that Eclipso was controlling him. It wasn't self defense. It was just a terrible mind game.

Not too long ago, they were pressing her to accept murdering a bad guy… but suddenly, when it's THIS bad guy… who didn't even DIE, they were willing to accept Rick turning himself in and being put away? "It's what Rick wanted, to be held accountable.."

"He didn't DO it! It was Eclipso!" Beth had snapped at Courtney. Courtney's eyes went wide and she got quiet. Of course she knew that and she didn't deserve Beth being rude with her, either, but Beth was too frustrated to tell herself that at the moment and Rick wasn't around…

She called him anyway, as she stormed out. 

"Rick!" She took a deep breath, "You don't deserve to be held responsible for something that you didn't do wrong!" She noticed Courtney in the corner of her eye and whispered, "There's nothing you need to be held accountable for and I'm working on helping you get out. Just… I hope you aren't too hard on yourself." She hung up and looked at Courtney.

"I watched him run around, hallucinating, breaking down as he was attacked by something that we couldn't see… it was like with Yolanda, only someone did get hurt. I didn't want to have to see that again and it wasn't easy to let Rick confess, but what else could we do? What would you have done differently?"

Beth wanted to say that she wouldn't have let him out of her sight, that she would have talked to him until he was back down to Earth..  but as a firm believer in herself, some part of her knew that Courtney didn't have that type of power. Beth was the one who could stop Rick in his tracks and make him think for a moment. 

"What about when you see a dead 10 year old girl? Would you have been able to use your head in that moment and stop him from reacting?"

Beth sniffled and wiped her face, "If I was here, I know that I could have fixed this. I know that I could have talked him down. He listens to me. It's different with us. And with Eclipso… it's personal now."

.

Rick heard about an "adorable but incredibly annoying" girl who spoonfed a lot of information to his case worker and his advocate. They didn't have to describe her. He did initially automatically think Courtney, since that was who saw him last on the outside and that's who annoyed him more than any girl he knew…

But when they spoke about legal documents, school incidents and cases and studies of similar cases..  He knew that they meant Beth. A lot of her findings needed to be double checked by the proper authorities and his advocate would need to speak with a judge, but it was looking like Rick may be entitled to psychological treatment from years of abuse that resulted in him finally lashing back.

He wanted to argue with that, but in a way.. that felt like some type of hope and he couldn't say there wasn't truth in it. Whatever Beth had done, he finally felt some peace of mind, since coming here…

.

The court order to grant him a placement took shorter than he thought, even though it still felt super long. The Chapels weren't foster parents, but thanks to some… creative documentation on Beth's part, they were able to be listed as family friends to whom custody could be signed over.

He would be trying for emancipation, but in the meantime, he had a place to sleep and eat and stuff… and Beth was there.

"How did you manage to pull this off?" Rick wondered, more confused than grateful, but she didn't take it to heart. She smiled and tapped her goggles. "Of course…" he stared at his bags on the floor. "Did you get the full story?"

"I got Courtney and Pat's side of it. You don't have to tell me, but in your own time, if you want to, you can." She handed him some mail, "I filled out your paperwork and sent it in. You've gotten at least one response."

"My paperwork?"

She winced, "I totally trespassed into your car and home, scanning everything and looking for something to help me. I traced punched in walls, I took an inventory of the alcohol in there, you name it. I also found the forms that you had for college and financial aid. I took them with me, but also wondered what they were doing there. So I checked on cell phone records and saw that Miss Woods-" she rolled her eyes when she said her name. (She wasn't fond of how cruelly that woman had treated Rick, and she didn't mind saying so), "Had been there. I figured she was the one who gave those to you, went to pay her a visit and questioned her until she told me about what happened earlier. She had seen your uncle and he was belligerent and drinking. I told her that I would speak to your advocate in order to see if that was usable information. It was. She made for a very dependable character reference."

Rick looked stunned. He didn't know what to say, but eventually landed on, "Why am I at your house and not at Pat's? I don't even know your parents and they probably aren't pleased about what happened." 

"Well, I believe that I've managed to do quite the PR campaign for you when I was making my rounds to see if anybody had recollection of witnessing your uncle be unkind to you. A lot of people have been quiet about things that they should have spoken up about… myself included.." she lowered her head, "I noticed bruises on you sometimes at lunch when we weren't friends and I guessed that they weren't from some school fight, otherwise, the school would know." She looked up at him and her eyes were brimming with tears, "All of us made choices to mind our business and just leave you to fend for yourself. Everybody's been feeling pretty guilty that it came to… that.."

She cleared her throat, "There's enough going on at Courtney's house, and Yolanda's isn't an option. I couldn't let you wind up at the group home. Artemis is there. The last time you two saw each other, you almost killed one another. I thought my home was the best choice. It's safe, there's just me here. My parents believed me when I vouched for you, so they would be acting like wardens or anything, and I just… I feel better knowing that if something happens, I'll be there."

He sat down on the guest bed and twiddled his thumbs, "That's just it. If something happens, I… I no longer have the hourglass. I won't be able to protect you fully."

"I can protect myself," she said, sitting next to him. "Just wait until you hear my Eclipso story."

"Your what?"

"He attacked me the same time that he attacked you…" Rick looked terrified as he checked her over for damages. "It's a long story, but I'm fine. It went very differently for me than it did for you." She looked sad for a moment. I think he must've known."

He was confused. Beth looked him in the eyes through her goggles, "That we protect each other. That you fight for me and I fight for you. I felt so victorious when I was able to take my goggles back from me and solidify my place on the team… the. I found out he had gotten to my Rick…" 

His heart jumped in his chest and he stared at her. He reached for her goggles but she shook her head and he withdrew his hands. "It wasn't anything to do with you."

"No, but had I been there…"

"Then you could have gotten hurt or had to see me become the very kind of monster that I hate!" 

She furrowed her eyebrows and she grabbed his hand, harder than she meant to, but that demanded his attention and he stared at her face, "If I had been there, you would've had the extra strength you needed to see through him. I wouldn't have let you fight. Please believe me when I say that I'm sure I could have talked some sense into you. I could have saved you from thinking that you're a monster. Because you aren't a monster, Rick. You're a kid who was in a situation that most of us can't fathom, and when you needed me, I wasn't there." He started crying and shook his head. "I'll understand if you want to stay with Mr. Dugan instead…"

"No. No.."He had told Grundy that day that he just needed someone to care about him, to be kind to him, and he could be alright. Rick was so caught up in the stress of his uncle, he hadn't thought about how he did have someone like that. He had his friends, the Dugans, and he had Beth. She had done all of this, because she felt like she'd failed him. Like she was supposed to protect him. She wasn't obligated to do that, but the fact that she wanted to, that she tried to. 

Hell, she was even correct about being able to talk him down. He didn't know if she could have that night, but as much as she meant to him… he couldn't rule out that what if. He collected her hand to his heart and said extremely softly, "I choose you." 

@futurewriterwannebe

#beth chapel #hournite #rick tyler #futurewriterwannabe #prompts #nesha prompts #I Choose You #hournite prompts #nesha hournite fics #hournite fics #fics

[btsslowburnfic]

Chthonic Love Ch. 18

Series Summary: A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone. Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi 

Chapter Summary: Reading that pesky contract

Previous Chapter here

Taehyung diplomatically turned to the two of you. “In order to make better sense of the addendum to this contract, which I will show both of you shortly. I need to know exactly what happened when Lord Namjoon brought Lady Persephone.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Sure...uhhh….Namjoon showed up uninvited. Like always. He said he thought I was lonely and declared he had a present for me. He brought Persephone in, imprisoned in a glass orb, and said she was mine.” He looked over at you, “I am so sorry we are talking about you like this.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault the laws are antiquated.” You reassured him.

“I told him you can’t just kidnap people. He said Hoseok had given him Persephone and he was giving her to me. I said I didn’t want her. No offense to you Persephone, just you know...not really into kidnapping.”

You smiled warmly at him and squeezed his hand under the table, “None taken.”

“Anyways. He said if I didn’t take her, ugh I hate this. He would and I know my brother is an unpredictable asshole and at least I’m a predictable asshole so I told him I accepted his gift. And then we shook on it.”

“Excellent. Excellent. Now,” Taehyung unrolled the scroll. “Let’s have a look at this.”

I, Hoseok, God of Spring, being of sound mind and body do hereby enter into this written contract with Namjoon, Lord of Olympus on this day, the 5th of September. Wherein I have entered into this contract freely and in consideration for a game of cards, wherein the rules have been described to me by Lord Namjoon, I offer my sister, Persephone, Goddess of the Spring. Should I lose the game, Persephone shall immediately be transferred to Namjoon as his property and I shall henceforth have no future claims on her. Should I win the card game, Lord Namjoon shall give unto me dominion over the Isles of Crete and Cyprus to add for my personal dominion.

This contract is legally binding. Any and all attempts at mediation shall be conducted in the realm of Olympus, by an arbiter agreed to by Lord Namjoon. Any attempts to modify, rescind, or otherwise change this contract may be punishable by (and not limited to) immolation, lashing, impalement, electrocution, stabbing, and/or death.

“Lovely.” You mused as you all looked over the signatures at the bottom of the document. There were definitely two there, belonging to Hoseok and Namjoon.

“In layman's terms?” Yoongi asked from his seat. 

“Forgive me for speaking about you in such terms milady,” Taehyung began. “Hoseok transferred his ownership of Lady Persephone in full to Namjoon. If we are to address that part of the contract to attempt to dispute it, we would need to argue that Hoseok was not of sound mind. His signature does not look particularly sloppy. Unless there is supporting evidence, that claim is likely to fail.” Taehyung took a deep breath and continued. “As you have told me, he then gifted Lady Persephone to you. In Olympian Law, once a gift is given, the right’s transfer as long as the gift was accepted.”

“So...now Yoongi “owns” me?” You asked, slightly disgusted by the way you were being spoken about, but at least these men were being sensitive to how absurd it all was. “Can’t he just “un-own me?” Sign a new contract or something?” You scoffed.

Taehyung ruffled his hair, “ Ah this is where we have a slight issue. If he does do that, there is a tiny little bit of print down heeeeerrrreeee……..” He gestured to the almost microscopc writing at the bottom and said something about “right of first refusal.”

“So...if Yoongi were to...un-own you...Namjoon would then have the first opportunity to re-own you.”

“What? What kind of laws are these?” You asked mildly horrified. Up until now you were certain there had been a misunderstanding. Yoongi could simply fix it by filling out some paperwork. You sure as hell weren’t going to go live with Namjoon. 

Taehyung rubbed his mouth, “These laws are ancient. The laws governing this are Olympic laws. Now. Of course there are ways to at least undo the ownership in the Underworld as Lord Yoongi has dominion over the laws here; so long as they do not conflict with the basics of Chthonic law.”

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t know what any of that means.” You were starting to lose your confidence.

“It means that I could “un-own you” but you would have to stay in the underworld. I can write new laws into creation down here with no problem. I just can’t mess with death. I can’t just say no one has to go to the Plane of Judgement anymore, or people don’t have to die anymore. That’s Chthonic Law.” 

You wanted to pull your hair out. You wanted to run out of the library. You wanted to go scream at the Stygian Sea about how you weren’t property. You wanted to curse at the sky to your brother and Namjoon. You felt Yoongi gently place his hand on your knee. 

“Taehyung, can you excuse us please for a moment?” Yoongi asked.

“Of course M’Lord.” He stood up and bowed slightly.

“Please take Taehyung to the Great Hall.” He commanded the servant at the door.  

Once the library doors had closed, you looked over at Yoongi. “I’m sorry this wasn’t the news we wanted.” He said quietly.

“I just don’t understand. Why am I property but my brother isn’t? Why does Namjoon even care about where I am or what I’m doing? Why does he love messing with people so much? I hate him.”

Yoongi placed a hand on your back and began to trace small circles on it, “I hate him too. He messes with other people to make himself feel powerful; he’s been like that since we were kids. Also. because he’s bored. It’s hard living forever. What do you want to happen? Do you want to go knock down the doors of Olympus? Because if you do, I have 200 golems I can send with you. I don’t know if they fly, but I’m sure Haphaestus can modify them.”

You smiled at his attempt to cheer you up. “I don’t know. I don’t hate it here. I just don’t want to be owned. I don’t want to never be able to visit the mortal realm again. Ughhhh I don’t know what I want. What do you want?” You turned and looked at him. He pulled his arm back and looked shocked.

He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

You took his hands in yours, “It matters to me.”

He took a deep breath. “I...I want you to stay here. I don’t want to own you. But I don’t want you to leave. Ever.” He stopped. “I don’t mean it like that. Like I wouldn’t make you stay here, you could visit the mortal realm. I just. I like having you here and I want you to stay.”

You felt your eyes grow slightly wet. “You want me to stay here forever?” You asked, making sure you had heard him correctly.

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck. “Umm...I think I would like that but only if you wanted to be here. I know it’s not much and right now there are spiders living in the castle and maybe something trying to break in from the other side of the mountain and it’s full of dead people but I did see a palm tree on the beach this morning so who knows.” He was rambling at this point.

“Yoongi.” You cut him off. 

He bobbed his head up, looking at you and you leaned in, pressing your lips against his. He once again, tensed up at the initial contact, still surprised that it was happening, but he slowly relaxed into it as the kiss deepened. You pulled back. “I want to stay.”

Yoongi caught his breath, having forgotten to do it for several seconds. “I could always ask my brother to cancel the contract.” He said quietly through his now swollen lips.

You scrunched up your face. “You can’t go to Olympus.”

“Let’s invite him here.” Yoongi said, gently reaching up to cup your face. “We can always ask. The worst he can do, in this realm anyways, is say “no”.”

You paused for a minute, leaning in to Yoongi’s touch. “You hate your brother. You shouldn’t have to ask him for anything. Especially in your realm.”

“I do. But I’d do it for you.”

You thought about it for another few seconds, imagining how the conversations would go. Yoongi groveling before Namjoon wasn’t exactly the solution you were looking for. But, it would definitely be the easiest way for the contract to be cancelled.

“That’s very sweet Yoongi.” 

“Shall I send the invitation?” He asked.

“Yes. Let’s invite Hoseok as well.” 

Yoongi pursed his lips, “In that case, let’s just make it a party.”

You laughed in surprise. “Are you serious?”

Yoongi cleared his throat, working up the courage to say his next thought. “Well if you’re going to be Lady of the underworld, shouldn’t you be holding court, hosting events. You know, things like that?”

There was an underlying promise and question in his statement. “Yes. I suppose I should.” You leaned in and kissed him again. And again. And again.  NEXT CHAPTER

#bts writing #bts fic #BTS suga #bts suga x you #suga x you #suga x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #bts suga x reader #bts scenarios

[worstloki]

Part 1

--[official naming and legal rights ceremony for Morgan]--

Tony: you know what would be really funny? Pepper: Tony... Tony: THINK about it Pep- how can you say no to this once in a lifetime opportunity? Pepper: Rhodey and Steve. We already decided. Tony: ok fine. FINE! I'll just give up the chance for our daughter to have two literal powerhouses watching over her Pepper: one of them isn't even alive! Tony, signing the paperwork: he was the dodgy one anyways! Pepper: oh g*d tell me you didn't Tony: too late. our daughter's got 1 thunderer and 1 deceased trickster listed as her ~*godparents*~ and no punishment you come up with will ruin this moment for me Pepper: its fine, this is fine, it wont even be legally binding since you can't have two male godparents listed so its invalid anyways, haha this is fine, everything is fine,,, Tony: i actually heard from Thor that Loki could be female if they wanted... Pepper: ... Pepper: TONY!! -- [later] -- Rhodey: dude did you seriously put LOKI down as a legal guardian for your kid instead of me Tony: well I wanted Thor but he insisted that I put Loki down too... something about honouring Asgardian tradition...? Rhodey: tradition is fine but isn't he DEAD? Tony: sure Thor thought he was dead 5 years ago, then again 4 years ago, and then again 2 years ago... but if he was alive he would have already, statistically speaking, shown up by now Rhodey shaking his head fondly: okay i forgive you for replacing me with Thor and his deceased brother, but the next kid has my name on it. I've already called dibs with no takebacks, okay? Tony: one kid is already keeping me busy enough, honeybear... 

---[3 years later]---

Tony: And. I. Am. Iron Man... *snaps* Thanos' army: *disintegrates* Tony: *taking his last breathes* Pepper: you can rest now... Loki: *shoves Pepper aside and pulls the gauntlet off Tony* Pepper and Rhodey and Peter who were standing around tony: LOKI ?!? Dr Strange: no SToP you cant juST do THAT- Loki, taking out the time stone: why not Dr Strange: if you change anything now it'll ruin the timelines!!! Loki, reversing time on Tony and bringing him back to life: that's not how time works, Dr. Supreme Dr Strange: It’s Strange, and- Loki: Yes, I agree, it is strange that you decided to let Earth's best hero die when literally every infinity stone is rigHT HERE Dr Strange: but its wrong to misuse their pow- Loki: Then it’s a good thing I'm evil and don't care Dr Strange: buT- Loki: no need to worry, I'm only helping you heroes out this one time because apparently while I was stardust Tony chose to give me partial ownership over his child so now i am bound to care for it  Pepper, remembering that Loki is legally Morgan’s godparent: oh my g*d   Rhodey: well, I bet Tony didn't expect this Tony, speaking in his sleep: frickity frackity Loki, looking at Tony disapprovingly: I agree.  --[a week later]-- Tony: okay, so like, i don't want to seem ungrateful for you saving my life, but i only wrote your name down to get Thor - Loki, annoyed: Yes I figured as much Tony: -yes but if you've saved my life I was wondering exactly how bound you are to help and how far you're willing to go to watch over her Loki: does this have anything to do with the 18+ end-of-the-world-celebration party at the end of the week? Tony: maybe Loki: *stares at him* Tony: ...okay, yES… do you think you could make sure Morgan is alive and well and safe while I go? It’s clear you don't appreciate being forced to be her godparent so if you do it I'll even get your name off the legal documentation by the end of the week and you can leave after Loki: If you so much as try to remove my name when it is THOR that has been neglectful of his duty and has been ignoring the implications of having a child under their name then I will have no choice but to hit you over the head with stormbreaker Tony: oh. okay. no name removing then that's cool i guess just please don't smite me or i'll dob to thor that you're going to try touching his shiny axe and have are regressing on your journey to goodness  Loki, pulling stormbreaker out of his pocket dimension: I’m afraid you’re too late to warn him about the potential theft of his favourite beer opener. I will, however, watch Morgan over both days of the party, IF I also get put in charge of the spider child and Wakanda's princess Tony, doing his best to ignore the huge axe: how do you even know about them, weren't you snapped for the past 5 years?? Loki: I understand that they're not allowed to attend the party either and will not have any parents or guardians available to care for them at the time... Tony: you're not going to try any funny business right...? even if you wont hurt Morgan how do i know you wont lay a hand on the others?? I cant just trust you to watch over a bunch of kids no matter how much bruce and thor vouch for your sanity Loki: you can trust I wouldn't risk scarring Morgan like that if you don't trust i wouldn't intentionally attack a bunch of literal children Tony: hmm okay I guess I’ll just cross my fingers and hope you don't relapse into villainy  Loki: wonderful. inform the children that I will pick them up 2 hours before the time of the party. Tony: need me to get you a ride? Peter lives close but Shuri lives just a tad bit out of walking range Loki: no thanks I'll be fine

---[at the party]---

Pepper: YOU LEFT HIM ALONE TO CARE FOR MORGAN?! Tony: he’s been doing a fine job of it while we’re around, and besides, it’s not like I left her with him alone or anything! Pepper: No, of course not Tony, that would be too simple, no, you left LOKI in charge of not JUST our child but also Peter, and the PRINCESS of Wakanda too Pepper: do you have any idea how badly this could work out?! putting aside the political disaster that would occur if something happened to Shuri the ethical considerations alone make strangling you very tempting right now Rhodey: Pepper, Tony would never do anything to put Morgan or Peter or even Shuri in danger... he knows they're kids, right Tony? Tony: Peter can benchpress a mag-lev and Shuri can design one in 60 seconds flat. I’m not concerned because they'll be fine even if he does try to pull off anything even 2% evil! Pepper: *not impressed* Tony: some sort of Asgardian binding magic was involved so he literally cant try to inflict any harm on Morgan, and that includes emotional distress just for the record, believe me, i checked Rhodey: what do you mean 'i checked', what did you do man Tony: Morgan wanted ice pops the other day so i told her to ask Loki Pepper: TONY he's a WAR CRIMINAL Tony: so anyways Morgan went up to the ally we’re kindly hosting - who literally takes residence on whichever couch is closest to Morgan by the way and it’s super funny to watch him move between couches every time she leaves the room - and he's reading when she asks if he'll get an ice pop with her Tony: and I've tried talking to him when he's reading and it does NOT end well Pepper: and you sent MORGAN to do it anyways?? Tony: and he said no at first, which was predictable, right? but then Morgan got sad and a bit teary-eyed and she asked again and when he saw she was sad he literally jolted in pain and he put the book aside and got up so fast to immediately lead her to the freezer to get some  Rhodey: so, what? he physically cant say no to Morgan or some wacky voodoo thing compels him? Tony: That is the conclusion I have come to with my findings, yes. It seems he can’t intentionally do anything to hurt her in any way. So Morgan and her new friends are completely safe, sweetie. Pepper: I'm leaving to make sure she's doing okay... Tony: I also installed cameras just to make sure no one gets murdered without thorough evidence to convict him, if that helps? Pepper: If you can get the live feed to go to my phone I'll consider staying Tony: deal.

--meanwhile, in Tony's house--

[Peter Shuri Morgan and Loki are wrapped up in blankets and watching The Hobbit. Loki is doing some paperwork and Morgan is drinking orange juice while Peter and Shuri share some popcorn] Peter: so are we going to talk about how we're watching a movie with the person who attacked New York with an alien army a few years ago or not Shuri: he was not acting of his own volition so i thought we were excusing that Loki, looking up: you are literally the first person to have mentioned that Peter: but Mr. Stark said that-- Shuri: footage of the 2012 attack conclusively showed that his eye colour changed before and after he had been subdued the final time, which was a phenomenon associated only with being under the influence of the sceptre containing the mind stone  Peter: he does magic though! it could be a trick or the cameras could've been too grainy to tell Shuri: They weren't. But the changes in his behaviour and speech patterns also indicate that he was being controlled or at least coerced to some extent. He's also sitting next to us doing paperwork and watching Bilbo sneak around a dragon. Loki: Congratulations, you are officially the only person from this planet for whom I can confidently vouch is not a- *covers Morgan’s ears* -complete imbecile. Shuri: Thank you. Peter: well, she is a genius Shuri: Yes I am, in fact I'm a genius that has the approval of Loki, which is even better, because I'm assuming he'll have some neat ideas on how to make a fool of T'Challa in my lab on camera more often Loki: I may have some experience in the making-a-fool-out-of-my-brother department Shuri: wonderful! we can brainstorm after the movie :) Peter: I don't have a brother to prank :( Loki: I can fix that Peter: ...what Shuri: yeah, what?? Loki: oh I meant that if you wanted I could legally become your godparent and then you'd have Harley and Morgan as prankable siblings Peter: you know what? I'm actually considering it Shuri: how angry do you think T'challa would be if I made Loki an official Wakandan by saying he's my godfather because I think that would get a hilarious reaction out of him Loki, nodding: According to Asgardian tradition claiming a godchild forms an irrevocable bond and he would have to accept that his sister has someone who pulls off legendary pranks keeping her safe from any attempts at his retaliation Peter: that’s so cool and i'm definitely accepting your offer Shuri: and I'm joining in because i have a folder filled with evidence that Loki was mostly innocent of the New York attack but some videos of us together pulling off harmless pranks would make fine contributions to it Loki: wonderful! Loki, holding out documents and a pen: just sign here, there, and there, Peter: wait you've been sitting next to us filling out godchild adoption forms this whole time??? Loki: well actually I started out filling out the godparent-removal forms because Thor is an irresponsible buffoon and i refuse to share custody with him Peter: do you think i could get ~*Thor*~ to adopt me- Loki: Nopity nope. Too late. You've already signed the forms so you're stuck with me, and I refuse to share any of my friends with him Peter: aww you called us your friends Loki: you have no proof i said that Shuri, pointing to the camera in the corner of the room: but that hackable camera does >:) [peter jumps over the sofa and is going to retrieve the camera for shuri to get the blackmail material when he gets hit by a pillow. shuri says 'hey that was not nice' as she hits loki with her pillow. peter throws the pillow he has at loki. morgan yells 'PILLOW FIGHT!!' before joining in, and by the time they settle down again all of them have missed the ending of the film and have to rewatch the last 20 minutes before drifting off to sleep together on the floor in a patchwork of all their blankets]

---[later at the party]---

Tony: sorry pal, I'm a certified genius and even I don't know how she managed to carry around and slip Morgan’s papers to you when that dress has no pockets and her purse is barely large enough to fit a small-to-medium-sized wrench Rhodey: it was probably the same way she switched your drink for Thor's godchild renouncement forms when you weren't looking Tony, whispering: I think she has CEO paperwork powers Rhodey whispering back: you're only noticing now?

[pepper and tony get home the next day]

Pepper: i still cant believe you left Loki near the kids Tony: and i still cant believe you didn't know how to check the live feed and decided to ignore me the entire night instead of bothering to ask. clearly deep down you trusted my judgement and the decision to leave the kids in Loki's capable, mischiefy, slightly-insane but apparently reformed hands.

[yelling is heard from the living room and Tony and Pepper run in to find Loki Peter Shuri and Morgan sitting around wrapped in blankets and playing Mario Kart and exclaiming their thoughts very vocally. when they are noticed all the kids freeze and stare at Tony. Loki mumbles something about telling Tony he lost the bet since he did in fact manage to keep everyone alive and at that point even Pepper is staring (glaring) at Tony.]

Tony, realising the kids have bonded™: oh no. what have i done.

#part 1 of my modern AU where tony has to deal with his batch of kinda-kids being monopolised by loki #the same loki who refuses to say he's ''reformed'' or ''better than he used to be'' because he's ''always been like this'' #the thing is that he's not TELLING anyone about the mind control so everyone assumes the worst #he goes around doing harmless pranks and flambouyantly messing with people and is listed as their Number 1 enemy #despite never harming anyone in the avengers get called in to deal with him all the time but he's not even close to evil? #good luck to tony who has to explain that to people when they see him having a regular conversation with loki #he's not evil he just likes causing mischief and if you're not running away and screaming like crazy the things he does are actually funny #no one gets hurt or anything they're all harmless and he's only a criminal because it counts as 'terrorising civilians' to make trees dance #shuri peter and morgan end up bonding with loki 2 weeks after thanos is gone #before that tony was just kind of hanging around tony's house anyways because ''morgan is here'' #spoiler alert: there is no magic binding him to the kids he just values the fact that someone would honour him with responsibility #why did thor ask for loki's name to also be put down? because he DIDNT WANT to be morgan's godfather #he was depressed and knew he was in no mental state to take on that role and didnt think he deserved it anyways #he asked for loki to be written down too because he thought tony would never do that and he would get out of it but that obvsly didnt work #i'm tagging this under: LokiAdoptsAU #LokiAdoptsAU #this is part 1 and I'll post part 2 tomorrow but there isnt going to be a storyline or anything its just everyone existing