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1989butcher · 1 year

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Boots

daryl dixon x reader

he gave you a pair of oversized boots a long time ago, and you’ve kept them ever since.

set: alexandria, you got separated when the prison fell.

2.7k words

FLUFF!!!!!!!! i <3 fluff. this is my first fic pls be nice to me 🥹

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Y/N’s POV

I’ve been walking for months with nothing but a near empty backpack and boots that are far too big for my feet. The last time I slept with four walls was a long time ago at the prison. I haven’t even fully began to process what happened, I simply haven’t had the time.

When this whole thing started, I was visiting my brother in Atlanta. I didn’t know when my parents dropped me off at the airport in Michigan would be the last time I saw them. I lost my family, well everyone but Glenn, but after enough time I gained a new one.

The people I met in Atlanta, the ones that made in to the Greene farm, were some of the best people I had come across in my life. I never thought I would enjoy chilly nights eating rabbits, oddly enough I had one as a pet when growing up. Glenn never failed to remind me when I would be eating one, which led Daryl to tease me about it every time he brought one home. “This one look like yours?” He would always bring it to me first. I turned away quickly. “Stop!” I covered my eyes. I think a smile would curl from his lips. I would almost laugh out of anger. I knew every time he did this, he would come right to me to rub it in my face. “I wish I never told you about Thumper.” I said, basically talking into my shoulder. I turned to him on the log I was sitting on, still covering my eyes but peeking in between my fingers. “I ain’t ever gonna let you live this down.” I sighed, while he turned on his heel and walked away.

Glenn was sitting opposite of me, with Maggie of course. “Whatever happened to the little guy?” Glenn asked, his fingers intertwined with Maggie. Couldn’t even begin to believe my big brother found love at a time like this. I went back to building the fire, slower than before in hopes the archer would make a joke about it. “I dunno, after like five years I’m pretty sure he died, but mom said he ran away. Either way, he got a better fate than he would now.” I replied, staring into the dimming fire. I’m sure Maggie said something about rabbits on the farm, but that’s where the memory stops.

The farm being overrun was something inevitable, especially after we found out walkers were living in the barn. I’ll never forget standing there with Daryl, as he ran to Carol to stop her from going after Sophia. I don’t think he will ever forget that either. I know he blames himself, no matter how many times I said it wasn’t his fault. He would hold his head in his hands and I would rub his back, telling him ‘it’s ok’. He would shake his head and always reply no, or more like “Nah.” I just wanted to be there for him and take away his pain.

Speaking of pain, my feet were throbbing. I have been walking on this road for what feels like years. I don’t even know how much time has passed since the prison fell. I think living there was the happiest I had ever been. Our small family from the farm turned into a full on community. We farmed, had animals, kids went to a sort of school (if that’s what Carol wants to call it), and so much more. Runs were sort of fun, although Daryl never wanted me to go. One time, Glenn, Maggie, and I went on a run and promised to be home by sundown, as usual. I was hardcore third wheeling, but that was my brother and Maggie had become my sister. We were singing in the car, celebrating the canned foods we had found in an abandoned mini-van. Laughing, it almost felt normal. It was night when we returned, since we went a bit farther than we predicted. Rick, Tyreese, and of course, Daryl were waiting at the gate as we pulled up. They looked worried sick but I think the three of us were grinning ear to ear. When I stepped out of the car, unscathed, I saw the archer sigh in relief. “Don’t tell me you were worried Daryl, how sweet!” I teased him, handing him a crate of food. He huffed a quick “whatever” and I turned away and smiled. I think he saw me smile, I hoped he did. I never did tell him about the warm way he made me feel, quite literally warm. I was constantly cold, and he would always be bringing me back blankets or jackets. He even replaced my beaten converse with boots. Boots that were too big, but boots none the less. I also never told him they didn’t really fit, but I loved them too much to find a new pair.

The sun was glaring in my eyes. I laughed at the fact that pre-end of the world, I would have wanted sunglasses to avoid wrinkles from squinting. Even though nowadays, all everyone does is squint. I say everyone as if I have seen a single person since all those weeks ago. Feels like a lifetime has passed.

I decided to take a turn down a road with lots of tire tracks. Maybe I could actually find some sort of shed for the night in a few hours. Cook my very own rabbit. Daryl would be proud. At this very thought, I heard a rustle in the woods. I quickly grabbed my knife strapped to my hip. It indeed was a walker. It growled as it slowly made its way from the forest floor towards me. I walked up to it, shoved my knife into its grey skull, and kicked it back into the forest floor.

I brushed the hair out of my face after putting the knife back in a belt loop. “Where am I supposed to put it?” I asked, as Glenn handed me the knife I carry now. He walked away, passing other weapons out from a run he came back from. Those strong, warm arms came from behind me, with a soft grunt he took the knife from my hands and spun me around, wrapping his fingers through the loops on back of my jeans. His dark hair covering his eyes, he looked through the hair at me. Lifting the knife up for me to see, he slid it through a belt loop. “Got it?” He asked. I nodded in reply, my cheeks red with the fact his hands were still on my waist.

I couldn’t take these memories anymore. For all I knew, they were all dead. Or if some weren’t, they assumed I was. I’m sure of it. My family was gone, again. And I couldn’t help but blame myself.

I don’t want to replay that day in my head with what I could have done differently. That heartbreak would kill me. So I kept moving.

As I kept walking, I could swear I heard children laughing. A noise hard to come by these days, and even harder now after being alone. I surely wouldn’t recognize myself with the knotted hair, covered in dirt and blood, some of it was mine.

I picked up the pace, almost as if I was expecting children to come run and laugh by me. I looked around and saw down the road lots of cars lined up. People had to have done that. Survivors had to have done that. I think I was running at this point, I couldn’t tell. My feet have been numb since the last time I slept.

Around the corner from these cars, I saw a wall with a sign that read “ALEXANDRIA”. Holy shit. A town. With walls. I knew walking up to the gates was a bad idea, but at this point if they shot me, they shot me.

My brother was gone, with his wife who became my best friend. Our leader was gone. Same with his son and baby that I had grown extremely close to. The archer, too. And I wouldn’t admit it, but I love that archer.

I walked up the gates, my feet were stunned I had stopped moving. I quietly knocked, with a coarse “Hello?” I hadn’t talked in days, the last drink was from a river probably a day ago.

A man with a dark mullet and khaki shorts opened the gates ever so slightly. “Who are you?” He asked.

“My name is Y/N, is this your community?” I was basically begging. I was fighting tears from welling up in my eyes. A real person.

“I’m not at the liberty to discuss that with you.” He replied sternly. He looked around, as if someone was going to give him an answer. He held a large gun, clearly he didn’t know how to use it. I was frustrated, and I could take him down if need be, but I was going to be civil about this.

“What is it, Eugene?” someone asked him from behind the gate. I swear I’ve heard the voice before, but I thought it was pure exhaustion fueling my delusion/

“One moment, please hand over your weapons.” The man, assumingely named Eugene said. I handed him my knife and my pistol, that maybe had one bullet left in it. Just as quickly as he opened them, he closed the gates. I still had my pocket knife in my backpack. One of those tourists ones with your name on it. Daryl brought it back for me on a run once, and I’ve never used it. Just kept it, like a token.

“I know this knife.” The faceless voice gasped. Now, instead of just the solid wall, both parts of the gates opened and there she was.

Maggie. Maggie Rhee. Tears in her eyes as she held the knife at her waist, her wedding ring my brother gave her shining in the sun. “Y/N?” she said at an almost whisper. I went to reply, but no words came out. Those tears I had been fighting came out in full force as she crossed over to hug me. Her hand at the back of my head as we knelt to the ground to hold each other. Maggie was here, Glenn had to be. And if they were, who knows who else had made it.

I cried into her shoulder for a moment, until she grabbed my face to brush the hair out of my eyes. “I can’t believe it’s really you.” I smiled back at her, bringing her in for another hug. After a few more minutes of tears, we pulled away, stood up, and shut the gates behind us. “Wait here.” she said, running into a house.

I stood there, wiping tears with my shirt. “I’m Eugene.” the mullet man said. Staring awkwardly at me. “Hi.” I said back, taking a deep breath. He went to say something else before someone came out of the house with Maggie, her hands covering his eyes.

I slowly walked towards them. My heart dropped to my stomach and I swear the world stopped. Maggie used her other hand to say ‘Shhh’ to me. I could barely keep it together when she finally removed her hand from his eyes. It was Glenn.

Before he realized it was me I had already gone to hug him. Crying into his thin shirt and sinking to the street. “Oh my God.” he said in reply, coming back down with me, doing the exact same thing Maggie had done. He kissed my forehead and I felt his tears drop onto my head.

“I’m so sorry.” I cried to him. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve listened, I should’ve stayed with you.” He shook his head, sniffled and pulled away. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Y/N. I’m here. Your family is here.” He picked me up from the ground and Maggie came in to hug us again, going to kiss Glenn and wipe his tears. We all sort of exchanged ‘how on earth did you survive’ and ‘you look like shit’ before they took me walking up the street, careful not to tell me about anyone who had died, but who was here. Rick, the kids, Michonne, Carol, Sasha, some people named Tara, Rosita, Abraham, who had come with Eugene. I was in complete disbelief of an entire neighborhood that was safe.

None of them were outside, so seeing me was going to be a surprise, but they had skipped over a certain archer I was missing. While we came up to the porch that Glenn said was Rick’s, I found myself asking if Daryl was here. The couple exchanged looks. Fear took over as I assumed the worst, until Maggie took my hand and nodded. “He’s here, too. Been looking for you for weeks, actually.” My stomach was full of butterflies, even though it had been empty for weeks.

“He was looking for me?” I asked in disarray, the tears that had finally stopped were going to start all over again. My stomach dropped. He searched for Sophia everyday, all day. He never stopped and the heartbreak he has was unbearable. He was sure it was his fault she was gone, and he hadn’t looked hard enough. Glenn nodded. “Ever since,” he looked at Maggie, who looked away onto the street, his voice now lowered “ever since Beth died, he hasn’t been the same.” My heart had broken into a million little pieces. I squeezed Maggie’s hand, quickly saying I was sorry before she assured me she was going to be okay.

Another death that Daryl would blame himself for. I’m certain of that. Probably blamed himself for me running off too.

I followed the pair inside to where Rick was holding Judith on the couch. My first thought honestly was, holy shit a COUCH.

He stood up and smiled, quick to hug me with Judith propped on his hip. He kissed my cheek and brought me in close. I buried my face in his shirt, kissing Judith after. His shirt smelled of fresh laundry, a smell I hadn’t known for a long time. Rick was the most fearless man I had ever met, and I’d be dead without him. All of us would be.

“You’re here.” he broke the silence. I nodded, wiping my tears away. “Don’t know how, but I’m here.” I replied. He smiled again, looking up the stairs to Carl. He raced down them and tackled me into a hug.

“Y/N, I thought you were gone!” He exclaimed. I wanted to reply I thought I was gone too, but instead just laughed. “You couldn’t get rid of me that easy, kid.” playfully knocking his hat off his head. He laughed and flicked me back. “Daryl is not going to believe this.”

My eyes grew to the size of saucers. I was bursting at the seams. I wanted to see him more than I needed a shower at this point. I was looking out the window Rick was seated in front of when I said “Speaking of Daryl, where is he? Where’s everyone, I need to-“ The question didn’t matter anymore. There he was on the street, looking directly through the window. Almost through me. He took a few steps back, as if he was going to take off running. Like I was a ghost.

If anyone said anything to me, I couldn’t be sure. My legs carried me out the door and down the stairs, and into his strong arms. Arms I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The ones that held me late at night when I was cold, the ones who taught me how to shoot, even shot his crossbow once, the ones I cried into when we lost the farm, the ones I took naps on during long car rides. Home. I was home.

We didn’t say anything to each other. He had dropped his crossbow in the road where he was now holding me, face snuggled into my neck. He was crying. I reached up to rub the back of his head with my hand. “Been awhile, huh?” I whispered, sarcastically, desperately trying to break the silence. He pulled away, tears hidden under his overgrown hair. “Thought I lost ya” He put his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and smiled. “Never.” I said, placing my hands on his face. His response was the same, putting his hands on mine and giving me the gentlest kiss to ever touch my lips.

Didn’t think the entire community had to watch this go down, especially since that was our first kiss, but it makes for a fun story now. We both sniffled and looked into each others eyes, his blue ones glistening with tears. “Didn’t know I had to go missing for you to kiss me like that, Daryl.” Hearing myself say his name made my heart skip a beat.

He broke eye contact and looked towards the ground. “See ya kept those boots.” he remarked. I pulled his gaze back up to meet mine.

“I thought after long enough they could bring me home.”

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mickeys-malarkey · 2 years

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BATDR Analysis/Post-Playthrough Theory Revision Pt. 3/4: All this brings me back to Henry and Allison’s apparently-retconned stories.

Funny how the Memory of Joey tells us this story like a fairytale told to a child, isn’t it?

The Memory of Joey: Once upon a time, Audrey, there was a bitter old man. Who had lost just about everything. Audrey: Joey. The Memory of Joey: Right. The real Joey Drew. He blamed everyone but himself for his mistakes, but mostly he blamed his old business partner for abandoning their work, years and years ago. A man by the name of Henry Stein. A great artist and a good friend. In his anger, Joey used an evil machine to create another world. A world made of paper and ink, where he'd torment his own version of Henry forevermore. But one day, a miracle happened. An angel came into Joey's life. A young woman by the name of Allison Pendle. She didn't visit often, but when she did, she saw something good in Joey that no one else could. Including himself. Through their friendship, he began to see the world with better eyes. So one day, in his cartoon cycle of hatred, he gave Henry an angel of his own. To guide him when things were most dark. To always provide hope…

I’m certain that (aside from the green part) this is a fabrication created by Nathan Sr. and his modification of both the Ink Dimension and the memories of the real world contained in the loop in order to keep Bendy/Real Joey trapped and at odds with not just Henry (as I'd originally theorized), but also Allison beyond the grave (while also allowing them to stay friends although they're both trapped as well just to further taunt Joey). First of all, Allison’s surname was already Connor in her BATIM letter, remember? Doesn’t that mean she can’t have been called “Allison Pendle” when she met Joey, if the Memory of Joey’s story were true?! He’s claiming Allison and Joey met after Henry started going through his loops in 1963, remember (he’s literally saying that every scrap of information we have on her is imaginary just with this one claim, because this would mean that the invitation to her and Tom’s wedding in 1952 in The Employee Handbook [BATIM guidebook], where Allison herself wrote that Joey was the reason they met, was fake… Need I remind everyone that theMeatly, himself, literally told us multiple times, including the day after the trailer dropped, that all of BATIM’s established lore is still 100% canon in BATDR)?!?!

Second of all, I noticed long ago that there looked to be about 12-23 hatch marks (depending on if some of those are actually hatch marks or just meaningless scribbles) in Henry’s prison cell in Allison and Tom’s hideout, like the ones in the beginning hallway, and theorized that this meant Henry had been counting not just how many times he’d gone through the whole cycle, but also how many times specific endings had happened. If I’m right, that would mean that about 12-23 of those 414 loops Henry went through before BATIM ended with him in Allison and Tom’s hideout…

…which means that, even if all the other messages on this particular wall were written by Joey, Audrey, and Wilson, Allison’s addition was most definitely not what made Loop 414 different, as the Memory of Joey seems to be implying. I’ll talk about my new theory on what did make Loop 414 different in a bit.

Now, if that part of the Memory of Joey’s story is untrue, then what if the Henry we meet in Wilson’s prison for Cyclebreakers is not a copy created to be tortured, he’s just been gaslit into believing he must be by the fact he’s survived for years without eating in his new ink body? So much so that he believes that maybe he should just give up on holding onto his human life and memories (translation: he's leaning on Joey's Illusion of Living coping mechanism, trying to create a reality that hurts less. Which, as I've said before, Nathan Sr. loves because it makes him easier to control)?

Henry: What's your name? Audrey: Audrey. What's yours? Henry: Honestly, I've almost forgotten. My name is Henry. Audrey: Have you been a prisoner long? Henry: When the Keepers think you're a threat to their plans, they lock you away, forever. Still, it's given me time to think. Things like: if you haven't eaten in years, you might not be human.

The Memory of Joey literally confessed that he doesn’t actually know if the Ink Dimension was created for revenge or regret, remember? So, why is he now suddenly claiming that he knows for sure that it was specifically created for this particular brand of substitutionary revenge?? Sure sounds like Nathan Sr.'s manipulative self-contradiction, again, doesn't it? I also find it extremely suspicious how this headline that seems to be confirming the retcon of Henry’s death…

…not only sounds nothing like a headline you would read in real life (except maybe in a trash tabloid or something, which this might be judging by some of the other headlines and would mean we shouldn't be trusting it to have done any fact checking rofl) – it sounds like something that a player (maybe one of JDS’s real-life beta testers, even) said during their playthrough, after hearing the Memory of Joey’s “retconning” story – but also… isn’t even properly capitalized or in any of the same fonts as the other headlines on this paper nor on the other we have! Especially considering the fact that one of these headlines is talking about the angry moon Easter egg you can spot in Lost Harbor, I don’t think this is actually a headline confirming that Henry’s not dead in the real world; I think it’s the observer’s (be that Audrey's or those of any other random ink creature who’s run into the Memory of Joey and/or “Fake Henry”) thoughts leaking into the wider reality of the Ink Dimension.

Oh, by the way, we do have evidence that either Henry or at least one of the other potential message writers, at one point, seemed to know our dear Mr. Animator was dead in the real world, also found in his cell in Allison and Tom’s hideout, if anyone who knew forgot.

I highly doubt it was referring to the message about Allison leaving him for dead, considering how he was awakened by her sounds of panic and would have no reason to still be in bed when Bendy arrived, even if not knowing about the secret toilet meant he didn’t escape Bendy the first time he experienced an Allison and Tom Loop. Funny that this is also where we see the evidence of Audrey existing in BATIM, by the way; hand with a swirl saying “follow me” and another swirl labelled “trust her,” as SuperHorrorBro on YouTube pointed out? Hm…

Let’s go back to her. It does seem we can trust parts of what the Memory of Joey says, like how we were able to glean clues as to what was going on behind the curtain through TIOL despite both the hoops that Joey had to jump through to get Nathan Sr.'s permission to publish in the first place and Nathan Sr.'s postmortem edits; you just gotta pay attention to the patterns in the broader picture. We do know, for example, from clues in BATIM, TIOL, and TLO, that whether or not he wanted anything to do with romance and having kids was a huge internal struggle for Joey that culminated in regret at missing the chance; which tells me that, yes, Joey created Audrey to be the daughter he could never have (speaking of which… based on the Keepers' “surgical invasions” comment, I wonder if Nathan Sr. might've… *clears throat* had someone forcibly sterilize Joey… ☹️). However, unlike many fans (including MatPat of Game Theory on YouTube, I saw this morning), I think Audrey has a completely new soul; Joey didn't sacrifice Henry's daughter or Tessa Arch or anything like that. Lemme explain.

Y’know how Audrey talks and behaves a lot like Henry (planning on drawing her animations all night long and actually doing so in the secret ending you unlock if you don’t make her move at the very beginning of the game, saying a lot of the same lines as him, etc.) and there’s an Easter egg where you can spot a ghost train on Platform 77 at 4:14am or 4:14pm (the same number as the loop that was different, Henry’s identifier in the Cyclebreaker prison, in the corner of the so-called “death of Henry retconning newspaper,” and the dates marked on so many lore drops… Anyone remember Nathan Sr. saying the last he heard from Joey, when he sounded so happy, was during April? I wonder if Audrey’s “birthday,” when Joey tried to cut ties with Nathan Sr. and disappear off his radar for good, was April 14… and mayhaps Nathan Sr. had the announcement of his buying the Bendy IP published and caused Wilson to discover the Ink Machine on April 14th as a way to poetically rub it all in Joey's face and dance on his grave)? There’s also another place that we can spot a ghost: when you make Audrey strike a pose in front of the mirror in her office too many times, like the goshdarned peacock that Joey was.

There are Lost One memos that say not only that ghosts are what happen when souls randomly, accidentally slip out of the Inkwell, but also that new souls can be created by combining old ones inside the Ink Machine…

“We don’t live forever. When we’re killed or finally pulled apart, our diseased souls return to the ink to be reborn. An unending cycle of torment. But sometimes, something even worse can happen. A soul can slip from the ink completely. It gets caught between worlds, unable to die or return. They wail in the night. Drifting in shadow. The Phantoms of the Machine. The ghosts.” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “The Ghosts” memo (emphasis added)

“We live in the ruins of the past. Forever lost in the shadows of those who came before us. Blended souls to make something new. Birthed from a machine into a world we cannot own. But the Ink Demon lives in all of us. A voice that calls us to a purpose. We know it’s a lie, but his intoxicating pull is strong. He is calling. Always calling. Can you not hear him?” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Who We Are” memo (emphasis added)

What if Audrey’s soul is a combination of pieces of Henry and Joey’s souls, so she’s Henry and Joey’s daughter, but none of the three of them realize it?? As far as Joey knows, she's only his own kid (because he knows with 100% certainty that he put a piece of his own soul inside of her), but the Arch family figured out what changed for Joey to finally succeed at creating life (by the way, I saw someone in some YouTube comment section point out a long time ago that, if you translate “414” to the alphabet, it spells “dad…” Wowzah, the symbolism)???

“I believe there’s something special in all of us. With true inner strength, you can conquer even your biggest challenges. You just have to believe in yourself and remain honest, motivated, and above all, who you really are. Okay, let’s stop it right there. I can only do so many takes of this trash a day. And tell the guys in writing I want more use of the word ‘dreaming’ in every message. Keep railing on that, get it? Dreaming! Dreaming! Dreaming! People just eat up that kind of slop. Hmm, what? It’s still on? Well, turn it off, damn it!” ~ Joey Drew, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 4 (emphasis added)

The Memory of Joey: Well, geez! You haven't gotten far! Audrey: Don't do that! Wait… how… how did you get in here? The Memory of Joey: Oh, I have my ways. So, tell me. How goes the journey? Audrey: Slow, but I'll get through. The Memory of Joey: Ah! I see you have your father's never quit, go-getter spirit. Audrey: Oh, now you knew my father. Well, news flash! I didn't even know my father… or my mother. Or anyone else in my family. The Memory of Joey: I see then. You've chosen to forget the past. I can understand that. Audrey: What are you talking about? The Memory of Joey: Look, I don't think you're ready for this, *pats her hand* but hang on to your lunch money. There's something I want to show you. *Starts using his teleportation powers* Audrey: Wait. What are you doing? The Memory of Joey: *Teleports her and himself to BATIM Chapter 1* Henry's Voice (echoing like it's supposed to be a memory): Alright, Joey. I'm here. Let's see if we can find what you wanted me to see. . . . The Memory of Joey: …It was then, Joey decided to make something new. Something he had always wanted, but he could never have: a family. But not a cartoon one. Something real. And after many, many tries, he created something that made him happier than he ever could have imagined: a wonderful, loving daughter. Bright and kind. Almost human. He created you, Audrey. Audrey: What? Are you crazy? The Memory of Joey: Listen, I know it's a lot— Audrey: —Who do you think you are? I wasn't born from some… machine! I'm flesh and blood. I'm not some kind of ink monster. The Memory of Joey: Just because we're born of darkness, doesn't mean we belong to it. We're always free to choose. To believe what we want to believe. Audrey: Take me back! Right now! I'm not listening to any more of your lies! The Memory of Joey: Remember who you are, Audrey. *Tries to take her hand again* Audrey: *Yanks her hand away* Leave me alone! The Memory of Joey: *Sighs and sends her back to the Downside Hotel*

“This may be my last chance to record a message, I’m pretty sure he saw me talking into this thing, He probably won’t let me keep it. Not much left to say except… Linda, I miss you and I love you so much. Coming back to this old place well… it kind of reminds me of how much I’ve gained. I feel like there are so many questions that need answering, so many things that don’t make any sense. If anyone hears this, if you make it out, don’t ever return, because the Ink Demon will find you.” ~ Henry Stein, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 5 teaser audio log #3 (emphasis added)

Audrey: Why would you be a threat to them? Henry: I'm what they call a “Cyclebreaker.” Once upon a time, I knew how to start the cycle over. And when that happens, everything begins again. Completely new. Obviously, Wilson and the Keepers don't want that to happen. Audrey: How did you do it? Henry: Reset the cycle? It turns out the Ink Demon himself is the key. This world is his, but even he must obey its rules. For now at least. If you can get him to look at something very specific, it will reset everything. Audrey: What is it? Henry: It's just a reel of film, labeled with the words “The End.” I can see it in my mind, every day. They keep it upstairs in the Pit [where Heidi says the ghosts live and nobody ever comes out of. At least, never quite the same]. Audrey: I'll see if I can break in and steal it. Maybe, if I reset the cycle, we can make things better for everyone here. Henry: And what about you? Audrey: I just wanna go home. Henry: So did I.

(*Side-eyes that “even Bendy must obey the rules” comment hard*)

Was Audrey created from Joey’s hatred of being what Nathan Sr. forced him to be, his coping mechanisms, and his desires for a family and to be his true self (which comes out in her as wanting to be a real human being of flesh and blood with a normal family, even if that means she has to forget her real family), and Henry’s kindness, curiosity, compassion, perseverance, passion and talent for drawing, and desire to go back home to his family? Joey says in TIOL that he admired Henry’s smile, and I noted in my original analysis/theory that Joey’s smiles that people find unsettling don’t seem to be a sign of malice but instead that he’s going through some sort of suffering, usually related to Nathan Sr., that’s causing him to dissociate just like Bill from TLO does, so of course the newest Audrey’s smile – Henry’s genuine, kind, confident smile – would fill Joey’s heart with joy!!

“Who would have ever dreamed? In the declining years of my life, I have someone more precious to me than any piece of art I could make. When she laughs and smiles, it fills my heart so much it overflows. For all the evil that’s come from me, this is something finally good. We play and talk as we both learn from each other. There’s not much time so every moment has to count. Unlike my versions that came before her, the ones who called me their ‘uncle,’ I’m proud to have her call me ‘Dad.’ Because she is truly my daughter.” ~ Joey Drew, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “True Daughter” memo (emphasis added)

Before anyone says anything, it's for the very same aforementioned “broader pattern” reasons that I'm unconvinced Joey's motivations behind having the previous (implied “imperfect,” which I agree with others could mean “unable to live very long in the real world,” explaining in addition to Joey being very old and sickly the extreme focus on not having much time 😢💔) versions of her call him “Uncle Joey” were as selfish and cruel as they seemed. I feel like it was simply, once again, a way to cope with grief, as he does so often (and Audrey seems to have done generational trauma-style, once again, “choosing to forget” rather than mourning)… I think, in reality, he didn't mean that the other Audreys weren't good enough to call him “Dad,” but that he couldn't bear to have them call him “Dad” because he could tell they'd be gone soon and he needed that fact to hurt less, his thought process something like “of course I still care about my nieces, but losing them is less utterly devastating.”

Speaking of the memories, was anyone else weirded out by the way Wilson said that Nathan Sr. “only ever had time for the grand creatives of the world. The ‘doers,’ as he called them. How could his lowly son ever compete,” after that conspicuous comment from Nathan Sr. that he dislikes creative people, back in TIOL (I specifically noted this comment in my original analysis/theory because it sounded like he was indirectly ending his relationships with every other creative he's ever met specifically so that nobody would believe anyone who claims he looked down upon Joey)? And was anyone else disturbed by the fact that, in the very same room where Wilson went on his rant about how Nathan Sr. was beyond saving (definitely didn't sound like he meant physically 😬👿) before he got freaking shredded (still not over it 😵‍), we find a hotdog connected to Audrey's pleasant childhood with Joey and a final Nathan Sr. audio log where he talks about going on a lovely walk and eating a hotdog for the first time in a long time (no, this isn't implying that the memories are actually Wilson's; the achievement for getting them all is called “Self Discovery.” And, sorry MattyPatty, but I'm not buying “they're Tessa's because the Fashionable Men's Hat was in fashion in the 1930s but not the 1960s;” I didn't know or care what was actually considered fashionable as a little girl – I mean, I still don't, but I'm autistic and that's beside the point – I even called old clothes of my grandmothers' that they gave me to play dress-up with “fashionable/chic/etc.” If I was pretending to be fashionable, I could tell it was expensive, and/or I thought someone – especially my parents – looked good in something, I called it such things without question. Multiple memories make a point of saying how old and/or cheap they are, the Rubber Duck straight-up saying that it was “still dusted with the decay of old soap;” it sounds to me like Joey kept a lot of old/broken things in order to save money and possibly also go out in public as little as possible in order to stay off Nathan Sr.'s radar, his biggest exceptions being making memories with his baby girl)?

“I decided to go for a walk this morning. Took a little stroll down to the park. Enjoyed the warm sun for a while, found a quiet bench, even grabbed a hot dog. It's been ages since I've done that. Tessa would kill me if she knew I've been off my diet. When I got back to the office, I stopped by the animation department and said hello to the troops. My gosh, they're getting younger every day. Either that or I'm just getting older. It all made me realize time is moving on. The hard struggles don't seem as dire as they used to. Life has other value. I think, I'll go home early today. Maybe I'll even pick up a hot dog for Tessa.” ~ Nathan Arch Sr., Bendy and the Dark Revival, “The Bigger Things” audio log

Just this one scene in this one room felt like a big, flashing neon sign highlighting the stark contrast between Nathan Sr. and Joey's parenting. So much here is screaming to me that:

Nathan Sr. – who seems to have just chosen to be a monster of his own, perfectly sane and untraumatized free will – had been working hard to make observers believe he was a good father while neglecting The Favorite Son™ (Nathan Jr.) and abusing The Hated Bastard Son™ (Wilson) so horribly both emotionally and physically that not only was Wilson jealous of how much his dad liked people he just disliked and/or of anyone who got his dad's attention and approval by being used in his machinations, but he was also made into a social pariah (just like Walter and Joey) by the horrific injuries his father inflicted on him, making him look and sound so creepy. I think Nathan Sr. was relieved that day in 1973 when his intricate plans finally came to the fruition he was actually planning on and they found his least favorite son's dead body on the floor of his JDS museum; the hotdogs were a way to celebrate finally ridding himself and Tessa of Wilson for good (seriously, frick you, Nathan Sr. I'mma slug you and then hug and adopt both your sons; nobody deserves a dad as pure evil as you).

Joey – who was clearly forced to be the way he was for survival reasons – really, genuinely was trying to be a good uncle/dad to the Audreys, despite the mistakes he definitely made with them due to decades of being trapped in survival mode (and Audrey definitely loved him despite his flaws, which is probably why she's so willing to give Wilson a chance! Anyone notice the description of the Cracked Mug childhood memory? I… why are you making me tear up over a broken cup with a frowny face drawn on it?? Stop making me cry… 😭😭😭 Not only was Wilson trying to communicate what happened to him to her, but he was successful and she sees her dad in him and wants to help… Unfortunately, he ain't in the same place Joey was, anymore. His dad's Murder Puppet process worked, just as he feared; he's not the same person now as when he wrote The Mug and the Maiden, so she gets hurt for her kindness). He didn't want her to become like him, he wanted her to be safer and better able to move forward than he was, as seen in the memos signed “your best pal;” he fought for his daughter to not just survive, but joyfully thrive, taking her out for hotdogs just so that they could relax together on a Saturday.

“Every great story begins in mystery. Although things may be dark at the start, the truth will illuminate your way. Don’t be afraid of who you are. Fear only what you may become, and banish it away.” ~ “Your Best Pal” (heavily implied Bendy/Real Joey), Bendy and the Dark Revival, “The Beginning” and “Something Familiar” memos (emphasis added)

(The “Something Familiar” copy is literally found on the Memory of Joey’s bed which, as I said in Part Two, I think was actually Dapper Bendy’s.)

“Around here, it's just best to stay out of sight. Don't ever go running into some place if you don't know what's in there! If you attack a problem head on, you're going to find yourself in trouble. And that's just foolish! You gotta watch, listen, and when the time is right, push forward.” ~ “Your Best Pal” (heavily implied Bendy/Real Joey), Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Be Careful” memo

“Don't ever lose hope. When in doubt, the answer you seek is usually nearby. We all have dreams, ghosts in our past. But those ghosts can give us the path forward.” ~ “Your Best Pal” (heavily implied Bendy/Real Joey), Bendy and the Dark Revival, “White Rabbit” memo (emphasis added)

Back to the whole soul blending idea. If I'm right, this would all explain:

Why our Audrey could survive in the real world while the others couldn’t: they needed complete souls, but they only had part of Joey’s soul until part of Henry's escaped!!

What made Loop 414 different: Henry’s memories of the previous loops were erased because part of his soul had (genuinely, cause Joey seemed awfully surprised that something changed) accidentally slipped into the newest Audrey!!

The Memory of Joey saying A: that Audrey doesn’t have to be the Ink Demon anymore, making a big deal about how Audrey’s real and loved – the Ink Demon has the rest of Joey’s soul, he’s saying that she’s her own person and not either of her dads (while also making Joey sound like a selfish creep by passive-aggressively rubbing the fact that he was forced to be the monster he became in Real Joey’s face and also telling him that he’s unlovable trash unlike Audrey *stares at my notes on how Susie Campbell/Twisted Alice’s story parallels Joseph Dempsey/Joey Drew’s, again* but seeming like he's being a jerkwad to another one of his children, as @inkdemonapologist pointed out. So many reasons for Bendy to have crushed the life out of him, there) – and B: “just a pencil and a dream isn’t enough, you have to have heart” – not only does she need to keep choosing compassion to avoid going down the road Joey did, but Joey was The Dreamer, Henry was The Heart, and together they made a separate life!!

Why Wilson would A: describe Audrey's powers as “devilish” (they came partly from Joey, who is now the Ink Demon) and make a big deal about how the Ink Demon can't get into his lab (he knew that Bendy/Real Joey would 100% come to rescue his baby girl, if they were somewhere he was capable of entering. As he did at the end of the Shipahoy Wilson fight), and B: think that her soul would be powerful enough to create a deity that could defeat Bendy (she's also a descendant of the Third King of JDS, who left the kingdom) while also, apparently, not realizing that his own soul might be powerful enough, as well, and therefore never actually trying to kill Bendy himself (he tried to have his Keepers do it, remember? That's literally what those audio logs were all about); maybe this is how souls always work in the Bendyverse – everyone's souls are a combination of pieces of their parents', so Wilson's soul is partly Nathan Sr.'s, another one of the Three Kings of JDS (this might also explain why Henry, the Memory of Joey, Audrey, and Wilson are the only ink creatures we see who resemble humans; if the Memory of Joey is actually Nathan Sr., that means they all have Royal Souls, making them the most powerful beings in the Ink Dimension. Bendy/Real Joey is probably the way he is because A: he chose to be, B: Nathan Sr. forced him to be, or C: nobody had any choice in the matter because he was already bonded to the soulless Bendy body by the failed ritual performed way back in 1946) – but, as far as he knows, it only works that way for ink creatures…?

“Now I’m not lookin’ for trouble. It’s just the nature of us projectionists to seek out the dark places. You see, I’ve learned the ins and outs of this here studio. I know how to avoid being bothered by the likes of this… company. ‘That projectionist,’ they always say, ‘creeping around, he’s just lookin’ for trouble.’ Well trouble or not, I sees everything. They don’t even know when I’m watchin’. Even when I’m right behind ‘em.” ~ Norman Polk, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 3 (emphasis added)

“‘Of course,’ Norman said to himself. He took another sip [of what was almost definitely ink]. ‘He says it like that, knowing that he's the one who brought this creature upon us. Of course. Of course.’ I felt cold then, like the temperature had dropped and it was winter. Like if I talked my breath would freeze. ‘What do you mean?’ But I knew what he meant. He meant the infirmary. The thing in the room with the locked door. The door I'd opened. I'd let it out. Me. It was all my fault. ‘What do you two know about the ink?’ Norman asked instead. ‘We know Sammy is obsessed with it,’ said Dot. ‘So not much then,’ said Norman. ‘How much do you know?’ I asked, trying to hold it together. ‘Everything.’” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 210-211 (emphasis added)

“I'm a fan of darkness. It just appeals to me. As old Norman would often say: people really become themselves when they're hidden in shadow. That creepy guy always had a story to tell about this place. But I think I've found a few narrow passages even he didn't know about. I can watch. I can listen. I can even steal. And no one ever sees me. I'm just a ghost, *giggles giddily* living in the walls, peering from the darkness. *Chuckles ominously*” ~ Grace Conway, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Dark Places” audio log (emphasis added)

Is Grace a combination of Norman and somebody else's souls (someone who's not at all in denial that they enjoy getting into mischief and ruffling people's feathers, clearly… roflolol what if it's Shawn?? What if him leaving JDS was also one of Nathan Sr.'s lies, so he really was the Top Hat Searcher Boss in BATIM??? Omigosh, I wanna meet Grace, she sounds fun 🤣 but also, poor Shawn 🥺), so just as much his daughter as Audrey is Henry and Joey's? Was she created from his desire to find secrets? She has a very similar voice to him and everything, goodness. And while we're back on the subject of dear old Norman, could he have become a personification of part of Wilson's psyche when he got addicted to that same ink that Sammy did (which would also support my “Wilson's not actually the ‘new evil’ in the Ink Dimension, it's Nathan Sr.'s soul” theory)…? Wilson seems to have a Royal Soul, after all; maybe that gave him the ability to work himself into the hivemind that thoroughly… “Wilson's always watching. He knows your purpose…”

Speaking of which, it sure looks to me like we got a whole heckuva lotta “Joey's the center of the hivemind and anyone infected with the right kind of ink becomes a personification of part of his psyche (otherwise, they just send/receive thoughts to/from him)” confirmation, besides that second paragraph of the “Who We Are” memo (especially if Porter really is Brant; he assisted us in escaping Freaky Teeth alongside all the freed Cyclebreakers in the end, I highly doubt he betrayed us).

“A new terror has descended into our lives: This man named Wilson. Ever since, our world feels strained, like a great beast held in chains. The Ink Demon hasn't been seen in a long time. Many of us refuse to believe he's really gone. But what does it matter? Down here, we're all sinners. Children of the Machine all have the Demon in our inky blood.” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Beast in Chains” memo (emphasis added)

“His eyes see all. His claws tear and thrash. His whispers turn your mind into dark, unspeakable trash. Listen for the heartbeat drone. Your doom is close at hand. The Ink Demon is both beast and lord. His powers, too vast for us to understand. Death is fast. Death is near. His reign will last beyond your fear.” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Lament” memo (emphasis added)

“The Dark Puddles awaken. A voice, a soul. The ink speaks to me. It whispers your secrets. Who are you? Tell me your sweet name, that I may devour it. My ink swells and boils. It consumes. I am the Ink Demon. This realm is mine. You were born from it. You belong to it. You cannot hide forever. I will find you. (After telling Porter her name) The deep abyss remembers you, Audrey. A child of the darkness.” ~ The Ink Demon, Bendy and the Dark Revival, ch. 2 (emphasis added)

(Anyone notice the implication there that not only does the very fact that Bendy can hear Audrey’s thoughts mean she has a soul, but also that the very fact that we can hear Bendy’s thoughts must mean he also has a soul inside of him now, by the way?)

“I see your mind as the truth unfolds. You will accept your fate before the end.” ~ The Ink Demon, Bendy and the Dark Revival, ch. 4 (emphasis added)

Wilson: The Demon's evil continues to spread. This world has began to shutter… The Ink Demon (literally interrupting her conversation with Wilson telepathically): He’s lying, Audrey. Audrey (whisper-shouting): Be quiet! Wilson: What did you say? Audrey: Nothing. It was nothing. Wilson: Hm. *Opens door to security checkpoint* Just a quick stop. Won't take but a moment.

Did Susie/Alice not mean that Bendy killed her, but that she knew Joey was the center of the hivemind, back in BATIM? And if so, did she find a way to cut herself off from him or did his power just become stronger when his human body died and his soul finally merged with his ink one, I wonder? It seems like people could only fully hear others' voices in their heads in BATDR; before that, you had to actually be inside the inkwell or else people's thoughts just popped into your head as if they were your own…

“*Alice voice* …Take this little freak for instance! He crawled in here… Trailing his tainted ink to my door! It could have touched me! It could have pulled me *Susie voice* back!! Do you know what it's like? Living in the dark puddles? *Alice voice* It's a buzzing, screaming well of voices! *Susie voice* Bits of your mind, swimming… like… like fish in a bowl! *Alice voice* The first time I was born from its' inky womb, I was a wriggling, pussing, shapeless slug. The second time… well… *Susie voice* It made me an angel! I will not let the demon touch me again. I'm so close now. So… almost perfect… *Dreamy sigh*” ~ Susie Campbell/Twisted Alice, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 3 (emphasis added)

Back to the soul children thing. I wonder if even Alan/Allen Gray/Grey (who can't even spell his name consistently. Yes, I'm mad about it. Jiminy Christmas, my guy) could be one of these “children of the darkness/Machine,” born of its ghosts?

“So we're looking at quite the job here! Walls come out, pipes go in… dang walls go back in again! It's like banging your head on a rock over and over and over. The first time, it hurts to heck. The hundredth time, well… you just don't think much about it. That's what it's like working for Mr. Joey Drew. At first you feel that bad pain in your gut that you're doing something very wrong. But after a time, when the dust settles, and Joey has played his cards, you just learn to go with it. Bit of your soul dies with each pipe you put in.” ~ Thomas Connor, Bendy and the Dark Revival, teaser audio log dated November 12th, 1943 (emphasis added)

“‘I'm not leaving until I get what's mine,’ Tom said as Mister Drew stared him down. . . . ‘I want my patent back,’ Tom said right to Mister Drew's face. They were practically nose-to-nose. Or more like, nose-to-chin. . . . ‘It's my machine, Drew, it's mine.’” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 247 and 248 (emphasis added)

“Joey, Sorry, it's been a while since my last letter. Been Busy with work at Archgate Films. The Studio ordered another sequel! So I have been spending many hours in the recording booth again! It's fun though. Tom is doing good, thanks for asking. He's always tinkering or something. Mostly he's still upset about someone stealing one of his dusty inventions from your old studio. He'll get over it. Have a good New Year, Joey. I'll send you another recipe soon. Warm Regards,” ~ Allison Connor (formerly Pendle), Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 5 (emphasis added)

(No, Allison, I don't believe he ever will get over it, rofl.)

“To Grant Cohen, accounting: Please inform Mr. Drew that despite his insistence that the rumors of Joey Drew Studios going bankrupt are untrue, I want to remind him that if his studio does indeed fail, all equipment and experiments produced through our partnership, by contract, belong to the Gent Corporation. We will reclaim these assets forcibly if necessary.” ~ Alan/Allen Gray/Grey (he spells his name “Alan Gray,” here), Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Gent Property” memo (emphasis added)

Could he be a combination of Tom and somebody else's souls (someone more privileged, with money, power, and a college education… Could be Allison, I guess… but also maybe Bertrum, or Nathan Sr…? Something tells me that ghosts gravitate towards ghosts who complement/complete the part of their parent that they embody to form new souls with), so actually his son, created from his desire to get his effing inventions out of JDS's hands (there's that very specific technicality I mentioned, back in Part Two), and perhaps altered by Nathan Sr. to create a new villain to distract us from himself (he's clearly not against doing that to his own sons, so… Also, this would support my “Wilson's not actually the ‘new evil’ in the Ink Dimension, it's Nathan Sr.'s soul” theory, too… The Memory of Joey was the one who retrieved the End Reel from the Pit, by the way. Remember? Audrey never gets to go inside)?

“We've hit rock bottom. No doubt about it. By all accounts, I don't even know how this studio is still going at all. If you follow the money, you just hit a big old brick wall! Well, let me tell you, blank ledgers, spare cash, Weird amounts that plain just don't add up. There's still income finding its way onto the books, but for the life of me, I can't figure out where it's all coming from. Though the obvious answer is that Gent is privately pouring in some funds. And truth be told, they really creep me out. Especially that Mister Gray. He doesn't seem to be motivated by money, and he sure as heck ain't telling us what he's REALLY after. You just can't trust someone like that.” ~ Grant Cohen, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Strange Money” audio log (emphasis added)

Something tells me we shouldn't be looking at the obvious answer. I can think of someone else right off the bat who “sure as heck ain't telling us what he's REALLY after” and we know for a fact that Joey has audibly nervously begged for money from, before…

“It’s been quite a struggle to put this into words, Nathan. After so many years, you know I’d never ask unless it was dire. But when a man’s in a spot, he should call upon his friends. Truth is… well, the studio is… *slight tremor in voice* coming up a little short. Hit a few unexpected bumps. If you could… lend us the amount I mentioned in my last letter *inhale* it would be a big help to me… Hope this reaches you in South America. You and Tessa enjoy your vacation.” ~ Joey Drew, Boris and the Dark Survival

…and I think we just figured out what Mr. Gray/Grey's true motivations are by figuring out where they came from… Could being the second of Audrey's kind, “born of ink but living in flesh,” be why he seems to understand how to make things cross dimensions…??

“The future has arrived. I just didn't know it would get here so soon. Some of the stuff that's coming out of Gent doesn't follow any of the rules of physics that I know. Hard to believe they started out as a brick laying company once upon a time. Nowadays, we have all the modern conveniences and, worse yet, the headaches. Take that ID Card machine they've got at the door. You don't bring your ID, you ain't gettin’ to work. So I started putting my ID Card on my nightstand in my room at the Downside Hotel. It's not the safest place, but at least I know where it is.” ~ Eugene Lloyd, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Daily Headache” memo (emphasis added)

Y'know, I find it incredibly suspicious how one of the secret endings reveals Audrey to be in an insane asylum, unlocked if you collect all the copies of TIOL (the biggest source of info on Nathan Sr.'s abusiveness towards Joey) that are scattered around the studio and then staring into the colored ink in Wilson's (the biggest source of info on Nathan Sr.'s machinations) lab. They're clearly tryna nudge us towards thinking Audrey might be a fan with an unhealthy parasocial relationship with Joey (the achievement for unlocking it is titled “The Insane Reader”)… but how many times have I said that anyone who might be an info leak or even just displeases Nathan Sr. seems to get disappeared mafia-style? What better way, if she couldn't be trapped in the Ink Dimension with everyone else, to simultaneously silence and torment Joey's only family member than by fabricating a different, more believable life story for her and getting her committed?

I wonder how many of the many more audio logs/memos/etc. there are in this version of the studio – many of which seem outlandish and surreal even in the context of the rest of the series – may have also been made up by the souls of the series' scapegoats/etc. in attempt to call our attention to the discrepancies and reveal the truths?

“Something funny's going on around here. Call me suspicious if you wanna, but I know the signs of weirdness when I see ‘em. Don't get me wrong, we've always had visitors around the studio, but lately we're getting just one kind of visitor in particular: Gent Corporation Employees. Tons of ‘em. They're working in the hallways, ripping up the floors, taking the best toilets, you can't even get near the Little Devil Lounge these days! It's starting to feel less like an animation studio around here, and more and more like some crazy scientist's laboratory. It's just plain weirdness.” ~ Lance Derby, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Weirdness” audio log (emphasis added)

(Hm… Sounds an awful lot like Constance's comment on the potential dangers of “innocuous strangeness” I brought up in Part Two… 👀)

“This old town [Lost Harbor?] really has changed ever since that big Gent Building went up. Yesterday, I took a trip over to the Farmer's Market, and they had the whole dang street ripped up! It was like a large hole had just plain swallowed the sidewalk. Men were going in and out with strange iron tools. Kind of looked like they were installing some kind of tunnel under the road. Pipes just everywhere! Pete behind the produce counter was just shaking his head. ‘They're up to no good,’ he kept sayin’. ‘You'll see. This is how it always starts.’ I think old Pete might be right. But I don't like to dismiss people just on rumors. Only time will tell, I suppose.” ~ Kitty Thompson, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Trouble Town” audio log (emphasis added)

“I heard some of the workers from down the hall last night talking about storming Joey Drew's office. They were using some colorful language, banging their fists on the tables and chairs. It was the same bunch who whistled at me yesterday. Things must be getting serious. That accountant, Grant Cohen, just walks from his desk down to the men's room and back all day. Over and over again, gripping his stomach. Kind of green in the gills. I can't tell if something he ate isn't agreeing with him, or if he just can't take the pressure anymore. Joey's got a plan, he keeps saying, Gent is making something special. I really hope he's right. I may just be a secretary, but this place has a magic I don't want to see end.” ~ Sally Newt, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Getting Serious” memo (emphasis added)

Are the children of the Machine straight-up trying to tell us that A: Nathan Sr. is (genuinely) editing Mr. Gray/Grey into the story as yet another one of his many Decoy Villains for us to hate and pursue instead of him, B: in real-life, Grant was infected with ink (as the audio log in the version of his office in BATIM suggests he was) in order to disappear him for figuring out what Nathan Sr. was doing through the financial records, and C: Joey meant for the Ink Dimension to be salvation for people like Grant (like I suggested in Part Two)?? Wow…

While I'm still on the subject, I think I might know who a couple of other characters are the soul children of. I think Steve is the son of Wally and Tom, and Heidi is the daughter of Allison and Susie (sorry, SuperHorrorBro, but I don't believe Porter and Heidi are previous Audrey versions. Besides the “Who We Are” memo spelling out what “child of the darkness/Machine” actually means, the “True Daughter” memo implies that all of Joey's previous attempts at creating a child were daughters, Porter would be a son and Bendy calling Audrey “the daughter of Drew” as if there's genuinely only one – why the actual heck would he say that if he's not Real Joey and considers himself “one of the children of Drew?” Shouldn't he be giving his sister Heidi the same honor he, himself, wants but was denied, just like she was? That doesn't make sense, which Wilson explains to us is a sign that something was Nathan Sr.'s doing in some way – along with the way Audrey and Betty talk about Betty being “one in a long line of failed experiments” as if Wilson continuing to try and get her to come out the way she was supposed to is a good thing that's going to positively impact her eventually implies that all the Audreys were the same piece of Joey's soul reincarnated. Also, Porter says that he “learned” his powers, and there was a delay between the hivemind speaking to Audrey and her using her default powers for the first time, but zero delay between Porter and Heidi giving her their powers [which Porter does by taking Audrey’s hand like the Memory of Joey does when trying to get her to accept the entire so-called “retconning story” as truth, and Heidi does by touching Audrey’s face like the Memory of Joey does when using his teleportation powers on her, which suggests that this was how they were given to them…] and her using them. I think that A: the Memory of Joey gave Porter and Heidi their powers to push us towards believing that Real Joey was a cruel uncle/father who discarded the failed Audreys when he got sick of taking care of them [I wonder… could Porter's seemingly randomly dubbing Audrey “Bobby,” leading her to describe their interaction as “weird” – which can be another sign of Nathan Sr.’s interference or a sign of Wilson's warning riddles – was a message from Wilson, trying to highlight both his dad's “Fake Siblings” plan and the fact that Audrey's desire to be a normal human stems from Joey's desire to be his true self rather than the monster that Nathan Sr. forced him to be? 👀👀 And, by the way, did anyone notice that Porter, Heidi, and the Memory of Joey's powers are all travel-based?? 👀👀👀 Sounds to me like the Memory of Joey meant it when he said he has his “ways,” plural], B: Audrey just had her default powers automatically because she has a Royal Soul, but they didn't awaken until she wanted them [no, not “needed.” That Searcher outright tells us we don't need to kill them and, from my and my brother's playthrough, you can literally play your whole game without them ever leaving that spot, even if you fight Lost Ones right next to them. I think this moment is further symbolism for Audrey leaning on her dad's coping mechanisms generational trauma-style and the fact we actually do have a choice between cruelty and compassion], and C: Audrey, herself, as a benevolent ruler, is considered a gift from the two main users of the hivemind/Dark Puddles – Wilson and Bendy/Real Joey – by many inhabitants of the Ink Dimension. “And from the hallowed darkness, from the wretched abyss, a savior comes at last,” as Wilson says), created from their playful, lovey-dovey sides…

“These guys down at the warehouse get to play games all day while I'm stuck cleaning up after ‘em. They keep locking themselves out of their own back room. So I says to ‘em, ‘look guys,’ I says, ‘you're smart, right? Here's an idea! Why not rig these games to knock open the door if ya win? It'll be fun for you guys, and it saves me the trip down here every day.’ They went for it like a dog to pot roast. I tell ya! If these guys don't start realizing who the real genius is, I'm outta here.” ~ Wally Franks, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 4

“So here we are! Another big day at Joey Drew Studios! Lot more people running around here these days. But for me, it's the same old dirty floors they've always been! Just more feet messing them up now! The only [new] feet I don't mind tromping around here are Miss Campbell's. She's good to me! I'll make sure I empty her garbage every day just to see how she's doing. Speaking of which, I heard her talking with Sammy the other day. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was magic there. But who am I to judge? I think they saw me looking though… So I just tipped my hat and said: ‘See you later!’ … ‘I'm outta here!’” ~ Wally Franks, Bendy and the Dark Revival teaser audio log dated March 5th, 1933 (emphasis added)

“I thought of Mr. Connor. Gruff, rough-around-the-edges Mr. Connor. Was he the manager? I thought he was, but he couldn't be, could he? Not if this elegant creature was the manager's partner.” ~ Bill Chambers, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 204 (emphasis added)

“‘We aren't in your studio right now, are we?’ replied Tom. There was no way Mister Drew could physically intimidate this man. Tom wasn't burly and bear-like like Bertrum Piedmont. He was more wall-like. Still Mister Drew grabbed him by the elbow and through clenched teeth said: ‘The hallway. Now.’ ‘Come on, Tom, no need to make a scene,’ said Allison with a warm voice, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Tom allowed them to escort him to the pink lobby…” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 247-248 (emphasis added)

“First week on the job at the Gent Workshop, and I can tell already this'll be interestin’. ‘Think you can lift this still girder?’ they asked me with a smug smile. I didn't even bother to answer. Just picked the whole thing up with one hand. You should have see the wee men drop their jaws. All in all, I've noticed this building just ain't built for someone my size. Every time I walk by the workshop shelves, the tools all fall to the floor. That and I gotta bend down for every doorway in the place. Still, there are some positives to workin’ here. Take that new secretary, the shy little one with the blonde locks, the one who follows around Mister Gray. I'm pretty sure she's been giving me and my muscles the eye. But I ain't no smooth talker. A work-worn man such as myself, ain't got no business with a woman that fine.” ~ Steve McGregor, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “New Job” audio log

“Allison just smiled her dazzling smile that made me melt a little, even though the scene was making me incredibly tense. ‘We'll talk about that in the morning, Joey. Come on, dear.’ She gave Tom a little push on his shoulder, and evidently she could move mountains because once again he gave in and took a step back.” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 248 (emphasis added)

“Who would've thought? Me having lunch with Joey Drew! Apparently times are tougher than I thought. For a moment there, I though I'd be stuck with the check. But I gotta say, he wasn't at all what I expected. Quite the charmer. He even called me Alice. I liked it.” ~ Susie Campbell, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 3 (emphasis added)

“So turns out it's my lucky day! I got to cleaning some of the offices around 2 am last night. And what do ya think I find on one of the chairs? A big freaking chocolate cake. Just sitting there! Practically yelling my name! You know, I work hard! I earn my pay. Every darn dollar. But you know what this company's missing? Little, benefiting perks. And this here cake? It's a perk! Hopefully no one finds out what I done. Cause if they did, I can tell ya what would happen. I'm outta here.” ~ Wally Franks, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 5 (emphasis added)

“The Keepers have taken my friend! Locked him away like some animal! Just cause he's big and strong. But they don't need to fear him! No! If they just make sure to feed him on time, Big Steve won't ever hurt a fly! He loves the food from the ‘Little Devil Lounge’ best. If only someone would take the long road back through the sewers, climb up the elevator shaft, and seek out his favorite thumping delicacy. Then they would see how harmless he really is!” ~ Unknown (heavily implied Heidi), Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Feeding Time” memo

“*Alice voice* …But for now, let's have fun. Plenty of time for a bloodbath later. Ooh! How about a game? Let's all play a game of riddles! *Susie voice* Riddles? *Gasps* Oh, what a wonderful idea!” ~ Susie Campbell/Twisted Alice, Bendy and the Dark Revival, ch. 5 (emphasis added)

“But… but first! May we play a game? Oh, I love to play games! I like hide and seek best.” ~ Heidi, Bendy and the Dark Revival, ch. 4

(…Anyone notice this ink message we see right before we hear Freaky Teeth Bendy's voice for the first time? 👀)

My gosh, no wonder Heidi and Steve are so flipping cute (I may actually have a new romantic ship, that's rare for me), roflol. Also, remember what I said about ghosts gravitating to ghosts who complement/complete the part of their parent they embody to form new souls with? *Stares at my notes on how it seems like Nathan Sr. was secretly driving a wedge between Tom and Wally the exact same way he secretly drove a wedge between Henry and Joey: through lies and sabotage* Something tells me that Nathan Sr. could tell our dear Mr. Inventor and Mr. Janitor would be a good team and too difficult to control if he allowed them to get along.

Anyways, now that I'm excitedly vibrating over all those prospects, let's return our focus to Allison's so-called “story retcon.” I really, really, really dislike how the Memory of Joey seems to be trying to convince us that one of the most critical pieces in noticing the similarities between the story of Joey, Allison, and Susie and the story of Walter, Arthur, and Isabel, and therefore in arousing suspicion that Nathan Sr. had orchestrated both situations was never involved in any of the previous stories she appears in at all except for BATIM, specifically, in a completely different way as just a character that Joey edited in decades after the fact, based on someone he'd just recently met; that's suspicious as heck and very reminiscent of Nathan Sr.'s erasure of Lottie's existence in TIOL. And, especially after my further thoughts on TLO inspired by The Mug and the Maiden, I wonder if not only was I right about Henry being murdered to punish Joey for contacting him (and him for responding like the good friend he is), but there's also another story that hadn't occurred to me despite noticing that Allison seemed to have started waking up from Nathan Sr.'s trance in between DCTL and TLO… Did Allison and Tom also get murdered, as punishment for Allison's deciding to try and be a proper friend to Joey rather than continuing to be Nathan Sr.'s pawn in the aftermath of Henry's murder (I wouldn't be surprised if it was straight-up the last straw for her… Nathan Sr. certainly could've used her as a spy in whatever other animation studio he worked at after he left JDS when he realized Joey was thinking about calling him for help, so maybe she knew Henry and liked him like everyone else – minus Nathan Sr. lol – who knew him seemed to… Now, he was gone, and she was just as devastated as Joey)?? Was she, indeed, able to see the good in Joey that even he couldn't see (because he was being eaten alive by guilt in his old age), as a fellow reformed abuse-victim-turned-abuser (when I first read DCTL and TIOL, not yet having read TLO, I thought the way she said “we’ll talk about that in the morning, Joey,” when he tried to fire her sounded like she knew full well about the true nature of her Pretend Boss and True Boss' relationship and really meant “we'll talk after Nathan Sr. puts you in your place, tonight…” Maybe I was right 😬)? She certainly tried to do that for Susie Campbell/Twisted Alice…

“Dear Alice, I don't know if you will read these notes, but I'll keep leaving them for you. I hope someday you'll understand my words and the madness will fade from your mind. In this strange and dark place, we can find light and purpose. We are not left to just wander alone, craving beauty, power, and other meaningless things. Even the heart of someone feeling incomplete, can discover joy. We're not lost. We're merely waiting to be found. We are so much alike. Formed from the same mold. We're like sisters, you and me. I wish you comfort and the wisdom to let your heart melt into happiness. I won't give up trying to reach you before it's too late.” ~ “A Friend” (heavily implied Allison Angel), Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Two of a Kind” memo

…so why not for Joseph Dempsey/Joey Drew? In fact, why not for Wilson, yet another abuse-victim-turned-abuser?

Allison: Are you crazy? Wilson's our enemy. Audrey: Do you even know him? Have you even talked to him? Allison: I've seen what he's done. That's good enough for me. Audrey: Look, it sounds like he has a plan to kill the Ink Demon. I think he can help us all! I just… I just need to go back and hear him out. Allison: Well, if it's true. You'll both need as much help as you can get. The Ink Demon won't go down without a fight. Tom and I will gather some of our friends. Anyone who's left. Good luck, Audrey. Audrey: Thank you, Allison.

This is turning out to be quite the support group, ain't it? Also, hm, sounds familiar, again…

“That big question. Why? The biggest of all the ‘W’ questions, I have found over my years, and often the hardest to answer. Especially when the why disguises itself as something else.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 21 (emphasis added)

“‘What?’ The most used of the ‘W’ questions, and I think the most useless…” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 33

Speaking of which, it makes zero sense for “Cyclebreaker” to mean “someone who's capable of resetting the loop” as Henry claims when the Memory of Joey specifically said that Wilson, in preventing the resets, was “freezing the cycle.” The time loop cycle is supposed to keep resetting, that's literally the entire reason it's called a “cycle.” Why would all of these characters be potential cycle reset-ers in the way Henry says, anyways? Bertrum's ink form doesn't even have legs or hands like Henry, Sammy, Susie, and Norman's do; he can't even leave where he's supposed to be without being subjected to destructive force like he apparently was in order to remove his head from the octopus ride and put him in the Cyclebreaker prison, forget playing the End Reel. Y'know what all the Cyclebreakers do have in common, if my theories are correct? They could've broken that other cycle I mentioned in my original analysis/theory: Sammy, Susie, and Bertrum all became personifications of different parts of Joey's psyche and by extension are symbolic of how trauma often causes people to cause the same trauma in others, so they could've broken the cycle of trauma/abuse by choosing not to inflict their own trauma on others like Joey did; Norman was a habitual eavesdropper/etc., so he could've broken that cycle by hearing/seeing things he wasn't supposed to and using that knowledge to get the truth out and find Joey help, much like Wilson did in his youth; and Henry was Joey's dearest, truest friend, his Shoulder Angel, who he reached out to for help in the guilt-stricken latter years of his life, so he could've helped Joey to break the cycle himself if he hadn't been fricking murdered as punishment for trying…

…Did anyone notice that, right after telling her all about how they serve and were created by Wilson, the Keepers suddenly decided that Audrey was too dangerous and they needed to just gas her then and there when she asked them to take her to Wilson because he wanted her to find him…?? And how, when she escaped the gas chamber, they specifically sounded an alarm for access to the Cyclebreakers to be cut off…???

Something tells me that:

There's a reason that not only are these creatures referred to as “Wilson's Keepers,” but it's also only safe to be around them when Wilson is: the son may have created them, but the father Arch gave them orders to ensure that the son continues obeying and remove anyone who might genuinely help him recover from what he did to him from the picture, one way or another…

There's a reason that everyone thinks “Cyclebreaker” means what they think it means: to throw everyone off the scent of its true meaning.

The fact that the Memory of Joey wants the cycle to keep restarting and the potential Cyclebreakers think that the resets are a good thing is both A: symbolic of the fact that Nathan Sr. loves perpetuating the cycle of trauma/abuse by orchestrating situations where he can cause his old Murder Puppets to create new ones who are just as or more brutal while still thinking they're in the right, and B: another hint towards the End Reel having been created by Nathan Sr. in his twisting of the Ink Dimension from the heavenly paradise that Joey dreamed of into the hellish prison that he, himself, now relishes; mayhaps the secret Grayscale Ending, if it exists, will also involve destroying the blasted thing?

Frick. You. Nathan Sr. I. Hate. You. So. Much.

Wanna read about some more highly suspicious songs I found and my concluding thoughts on BATDR's default ending? Those are in Part Four!

To Read the Original Analysis/Theory: Part One • Part Two • Part Three • Unexpected Part Four

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eulchu · 11 months

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I came to this fandom after dsmp ended, i have only a vague idea of what the c!dnf story was, could you do a brief summary of it? if it's not too much effort, and if you happen to remember the timeline and how it parallels real life? thanks 🙂

so basically towards the begining it was c!dteam having fun, until c!tommy joined the server and started griefing and killing george repeatedly for fun (both were against the server rules) so that made c!dream really mad and he started messing with c!tommy back. c!george and c!sap joined him and a rivalry was born.

fast forward some betrayals and a war, c!dream pronounces c!george king of the server, and promises loyalty to him. it's epic and awesome fast forward some time rumors stirr that there's a riot waiting to happen to dethrone c!george. that makes c!dream paranoid and he dethrones him first, which feels like the absolute betrayal for c!george, who had been promised only good and big things. shit hits the fan shortly after and c!dream loses his mind HEAVILY whilst c!george finds a deeper alliance in the fiances.

c!dream gets locked up for being insane and c!george tries to get him out by mining the obsidian with his fists. you'd imagine he doesn't get very far. after that c!dream is in prison while c!george is off to sleep all the time to the point where he can't differenciate between awakeland and being asleep. he sees a man who looks like dream in those dreams, which turns out to be the god of the server, dreamxd. he befriends him because he reminds him of dream and also does things for him. it's unclear why xd fixates on c!george the way he does - maybe because he likes to fuck with c!dream (there's a whole story arc there). probably because his favorite kind of people were the ones who suffered awful nightmares, and c!george had a lot of those.

that situation kind of stays like that until the end of the server. c!dream stays crazy, people using c!george against him because it's the only thing that gets through him, and c!george stays sad and in dreamland, plagued by weird dreams and nightmares about c!dream betraying him and pandora.

- in terms of their story resembling real life, id say a lot of it comes from the xd narrative. dream creates that character during a george stream because everyone was in the server and his character was canonically in prison, so he creates xd to be able to play with them. most of it though, comes from george. it's george who makes his character look for c!dream everywhere without quite reaching him. it's c!george who always wakes up with a gasp before he can really turn his dream from a nightmare to something nice. it's c!george who always looks at the prison from afar and who never dares visit c!dream because "i was told you didn't want me to see you", but really, he was just scared that he couldn't take dream back with him.

there's a dream that c!george has, one of the only nice ones he ever had, where c!dream shows up on top of the prime path, and they're running towards each other, saying how much they've missed each other. and then c!george wakes up.

c!dnf (dnfxd) was a lot of dream twisting the server's narrative so that he could spend irl time with george during lore (even when they were already spending 24/7 together), and a lot of george making one of his character's traits long for c!dream to the point where he went fucking ballistic and destroyed the entire server because c!dream chose someone else over him (which, quite frankly... that's just cc!george)

#asknootfound #long post #ok well this isnt really a summary thers just a lot of lore

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ozimagines · 19 days

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Do you have any thoughts on Chico finding out that he has kid on the outside? From an ex maybe? And I just want to say that I very much enjoy this blog, so thank you for making it!! I hope that your day was better than yesterday!

Eeeeep! Love this! Think it’d be a lot like Quagmire finding his kid in Family Guy. Like himbo turned dilf in an hour. (Since you said on the outside I’m gonna assume Chico’s still in prison. Love the challenge!)

And thank you! I’m very glad! Just made this page for myself but now I’ve got a few lovely people who keep checking it out. Love you all❤️

Chico Guerra in:

My Girl Part 1/?

He’s miserable. It’s years till he’s eligible for parole. And he probably wouldn’t make it. His girlfriend left him when she went to Hawaii.

He’s been mopey lately. Everyone realized. Even torturing Alvarez didn’t have the kick it used to.

It’s just that she was his last thing on the outside. Brother gone. Mother gone. Most of his family didn’t associate anymore. Now his girlfriend that he loved decided she was in love with some Hawaiian guy.

“Hermano.” Morales caked after him after a meeting. “Come, join me.”

Chico knew better than to fuck with Morales, so he said yes.

“What’s with you, pendejo?”

Chico shrugs. Morales goes on to talk about keeping one’s head. All that garbage, Chico thinks bitterly.

It’s visiting day. He hasn’t had a visiting day in four years now. Hasn’t had a conjugal visit in that time too.

He remembered taking his girl that last time. Holding her like he never would again, teeth tearing at her flesh. It was magical.

He played cards with the other Latinos until visiting time came up. Carlo got up to go see his sister. She visited every month from her new job. Murphy came over to Chico.

“Guerra, get up, you got a visitor.”

Guerra’s head popped up. He quirked a brow and questioned. Murphy looked at the sheet.

“Consuela Gutierrez?”

Chico’s eyes went wide. After almost four years.

He checked his hair in the reflection of a pod window. Checked his shave for imperfections. Tried to get his fuck me eyes going.

He wanted to step through that waiting room and be 100% the man she lost when he went in. Remind her what she was missing.

He stepped into the waiting room. Consuela was there, looking just as good as the day he’d seen her last.

He strode over to her, eyes wild, hoping to get a few intimate touches before the hacks saw.

“Mi jaina.” He said under his breath. His girl. After so long.

“Consuela, mi amor,” he growled lustfully as he sat down. He smirked at her, and pulled her hands close. She pulled them away immediately.

“Don’t touch me, please. I’m only here because of Kalani.”

“Who the fuck is Kalani?”

She explained it was her new husband in Hawaii. They moved back to the city for half a year to be closer to her family. Chico was still confused as to why he was here.

“So that’s it, huh? Just came by to run your new life in my face?” Chico spat, love turning to hatred in seconds.

“I’d have been happy if I never saw you again. But Kalani said it’s not fair to keep a father from his kid.”

“What.”

She reached for the stroller next to her, which Chico had assumed belonged to Carlo’s family. Didn’t his sister just have that baby a year ago?

She pulled the kid out who had been gurgling the whole time. The kid just looked up at him, large brown eyes searching him over. Chico did the same.

Kid had black hair, caramel skin, and a little button nose that broke Chico’s heart.

“But we haven’t fucked in-“

“About four years? Yeah. Wendy’s three.”

“Wendy?”

“Her real name is Viridiana but no one could pronounce it. My mother just wanted the kid named after her. You know how she is.”

Chico’s head was spinning. This isn’t how he thought his day was going.

“You didn’t call??” Chico chastised, still staring at the bouncing baby girl in front of him.

“Chico, I knew if I did you may not come to see her. But look at her, Chico. She’s just like you.”

She held the baby in front of her as a pride might hold a baby cub. The little girl giggled at Chico and reached for his hand. She leaned to her mother and whispers something loud in her ear.

“Not yet, sweetie. I have to ask… Chico something first.”

Chico was just about entering his midlife crisis when they came in today and now it was hitting full force. He had a three year old kid at almost forty.

“She wants to know who you are.”

Chico barely heard the words come out of her mouth. His eyes were glued to the kid. Still bouncing and forming words here and there.

“I’m… I gotta go.” He stood up to leave. He felt Consuela’s hands on his, only a little too late. He ripped them away and with one look back at the kid, went up to Murphy.

“I’m done here.”

Murphy nodded and took him away. He cast one more look back at that baby girl, still gurgling and now waving at him. His heart ached.

His head was spinning by the time he got back to Em City. Morales regarded him but he didn’t stop for anyone. Just went straight to the showers and smacked the cold water on, standing fully clothed under its stream.

“Guerra?”

Chico turned his head to see Beecher standing there with a worried expression on his face. Chico rolled his eyes and turned back around, letting a jet of freezing water splash him in the face.

“Is… I mean… you okay?”

“Fine.” He growled. He wasn’t ready to tell strangers that he’d had a kid with his ex girlfriend just yet.

The bell for lunch rang, and he took his sopping wet ass out of the showers to dress for it.

He’s silent through most of lunch. Just staring at his peas.

“Oje, Chico, ¿què pasa? You’re so damn quiet toda, man.” Carlos chided, shoveling food into his mouth. Chico just nodded, mindlessly peeling an orange.

“Wanna see pictures of Isabella’s baby?” Carlo jumped in. And at the mention of Baby, Chico flinched. “Oh, yeah, Chico who was that kid with you in the waiting room? Consuela make you meet her kid?”

Chico almost choked.

“Nah… she… the kid’s mine.”

The other Latinos were confused. Chico never mentioned a kid. He got tired of the eyes on him and explained.

“What’re you gonna do?” -Carlos

“What’s her name?” -Carlo

“She gonna put you on child support?” -Morales

“Dunno, Wendy, and dunno.” -Chico

Chico spent the rest of the day thinking about Wendy. Her big, oceanic brown eyes, that little lip quiver she did when he got up, and that little starburst hand that waved bye at him. She was his alright. No doubt.

When they were locked in their pod, Morales wouldn’t shut up about the situation. How it was to be handled. He wasn’t really listening until Morales said;

“I ever tell you I had a kid?”

Chico’s head popped up. He shook his head.

“Daughter. Allita. Think she goes by Lee. Haven’t seen her since she was a baby. She’s gotta be twenty something now.” He mused.

“Why didn’t you ever see her?”

“You can’t have the life we have and a family. Carlo will learn that soon enough. Eventually, you lose both.”

Chico pondered on those words for a while.

All night he was plagued with dreams. A little brown eyed girl kept following him. Those little hands reaching outward. She just kept gurgling for him to do something and every time he reached, she got further away.

All night. Restless. Breathless. Chasing after his own kid. His.

It had to be his right? That’s why he was feeling this way. The primitive urge to protect her from everything. He loved her immediately, that’s what scared him. He loved Consuela once. Loved his brother Bobby, too.

But Morales’ words were there as well. Taunting him, playing like some sort of funeral drum as he chased the kid down.

He awoke with a start in a puddle of sweat. He lay in bed for an hour and a half before lights on, just breathing and trying to get those eyes out of his head.

First thing he did was get a code for the phones.

“I’m sorry, the person you tried to call is unavailable at this time-“

“FUCK” Guerra slammed the phone against the receiver. He picked it back up to his ear just in time to hear the beep.

“Lala- I mean, Consuela. Look… I don’t know… you didn’t answer for a reason. I know it was shitty to leave but… but… you gotta understand… I ain’t seen you in… and now… Maybe this was a bad idea. I just… next Thursday’s visiting day. Be there… please. And… I need you to… just bring the kid too…” he paused for a long time, before breathing out. “…Wendy.”

He had six agonizing days before the next visiting day. He asked every day if someone was coming. Everyday they said no.

Chico was haunted by those big brown eyes he thought he’d never see again.

When Thursday came and Murphy tapped his shoulder, he nearly pissed himself. He rushed off to the visiting room, trying not to let others know what had him so bent out of shape.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking in the visiting room window, scanning. When he locked eyes with her, his heart melted. She was looking around too, and when she saw him in the window, her little face split into a smile and she waved. 🫶😭

He walked over and greeted Consuela.

“What changed your mind?”

“It’s not important. It changed.”

They sat in silence for a second before Wendy blurted out:

“Play!”

Her mom sighed and took out two little dog action fingers. One was dressed like a police officer, the other was in pink and in a mini helicopter. “Paw patrol” was written on the sides.

Wendy considered it for a second, then handed Chase (no I don’t know all the paw patrol characters by name even the ones who are barely in any episodes… looking at you Zooma.👀) to Chico. He took the toy with some hesitation. Consuela looked between the two of them.

“Well, go on, play.” She looked at her phone. “I gotta call about an appointment anyway. I’ll just be standing right there.” She pointed to the vending machines. She got up and walked away, leaving Wendy standing on the seat. She made her dog walk up to Chico’s.

“Hello!”

“Hi…?”

“No! Like Chase!”

Guerra floundered. He didn’t know what Chase sounded like so he just made his voice deeper. She giggled.

“Chase is on da case!” She cheered happily, the words barely formed in her mouth.

Chico wasn’t sure how to play, but he enjoyed watching Wendy have fun. She got the prettiest little smile on her face; she’d scrunch up her eyes and nose and bare all her teeth. Chico couldn’t help but smile back.

“What’s your name?” She chirped.

“Chico.”

The little girl giggled and giggled as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

“What’s your name?” She asked again. Again, Chico responded, and again, it sent the girl into hysterics. Chico got the game.

She kept asking, and every time, Chico would have a different reaction.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s… Chico!”

She squealed and giggled again.

“What’s your name.”

“Hmmm… I don’t know.”

The little girl smiled, stood on her tip toes on the seat, and Chico instinctively put his arms on her sides to stabilize her. She leaned forward and whispered;

“Say Chico.”

“Okay. Chico.”

And she burst into little fits of giggles again.

Chico’s heart felt to full watching his little girl be so enthralled with him. He saw Consuela watching the display with a small smile.

Wendy was now on Chico’s crawling over him, and looking too close into his eyes.

“Eyes!” She shouted in his face, and put her little finger gently on his eye lids when he closed them. He opened them, and she smiled.

She ran her tiny hand on his face, and on his goatee. She looked like she was in complete adoration of his beard.

“Soft!” She declared, and Chico chuckled at her innocence. He was a convicted murderer and she was climbing over him like it was nothing. Like a little kitten might crawl on a lion, unaware of the danger.

She was so small and fragile. Chico held her for a second, licking her up and staring into her eyes. His eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that she was his. She looked just like he did as a baby. And the instincts that came with that. The absolute raw energy she gave him. Primal. He wanted to take her back to his cell just so she’d never be out of his sight again.

He found himself shedding a tear. He’d never get to go home with his little girl. Hear how her day was. Color with her at the kitchen table.

Chico loved her already. More than anything he’d ever loved before, or since.

The little girl touched his face, palming at the tear.”

“Sad?” She asked, but it sounded almost like she was stating it. Chico nodded. And she then said; “hug?”

Chico nodded. And she opened up her little arms as wide as she could and gave him a hug that irreparably broke his heart.

He found himself squeezing her back, and hand on her little head, holding her close and full crying now.

Consuela got concerned and walked over.

“Chico? Are you okay?”

Chico didn’t respond. He just held his child and tried to hide his face.

“‘M fine.” He mumbled, finally, still hugging Wendy.

“I’m sorry you’re only meeting her now.”

“‘S’okay.”

“Kalani made the arrangements to come back to the mainland so you could meet her. You’d like him too. He’s a good guy. I’m sorry, but Wendy calls him daddy. He’s raised her. But we want you to be in her life.”

“What am I then? If I’m not daddy?”

“Up to you and Wendy.”

Chico pulled her away from him and touched his chest, using a hand to gently guide her face to look at him.

“I’m papi, mi corazón. Papi.”

“Papi.” She repeated, even though she wasn’t sure why.

Chico swallowed thickly and pulled her into another hug.

He leaned into her ear, so his lips were millimeters away.

“Te quiero, mi vida. Nunca más te dejaré. ¿Escuchame? Nunca. Te quiero, mija.”

“I love you, my life. I’ll never leave you again. Hear me? Never. I love you, my girl.”

Consuela gave him a picture to take with him. It was Wendy, hugging a giantic stuffed giraffe. He put it in his pocket immediately.

When it was time for him to leave, he tried to get his face in order to go back to em city. Wendy rubbed his face, unsure what they were doing but she thought she was helping.

When it came time to say goodbye, Chico found he couldn’t.

“Move it, Guerra.”

He held Wendy in his arms, squeezing her against him and rocking her gently. Kept kissing her head and muttering mija to himself.

“C’mon, Guerra.” Murphy called without yelling. He didn’t want to spook the kid. Chico realized if he didn’t go now, the CO’s would either yell or pull them apart, and both would make Wendy cry. He painfully put her down, and handed her back her toy.

He turned to leave, another netting already being set up.

As he reached the door, he heard a soft and squeaky.

“Bye bye, papi.”

As soon as Chico left the room, and was out of view of the other prisoners and hacks, he dropped to his knees and cried harder than he ever had.

For the first time the consequences of his own actions never felt so real.

Kill someone. Go to prison. A simple equation that he made a calculated decision on years ago.

If you’d have told him it was kill someone, go to jail, and never see your bouncing baby girl again, he’d have made some different decisions. But it’s impossible to know how much you love a child until they’re in the room with you. Until they’re no longer hypothetical, and you’re staring at the thing you created, it was impossible to understand how much it would affect you.

Chico made a decision then and there. He wouldn’t be Morales. He’d never stop trying to see his girl. He’d never choose this life over her.

His whole life was dedicated to her now. He yanked the photo out of his pocket and used a pen to scribble something on the back.

All for her.

Whatever was left of him belonged to Wendy now. ❤️

He went to lunch with the picture in his pocket. Showed the other Latinos when he got to the table.

Martinez feigned interest while Carlo genuinely engaged with him.

“She’s so cute, hermano, congratulations.”

Chico nodded and kept talking about her. How she played and talked. How she was already forming sentences. That she could stand on her tippy toes. Everything.

Carlos looked at Morales, who made a gesture that said just to leave it.

“And she’s not an illegal!”

All the Latinos’ heads whipped around to see Robson at the other table, smiling meanly.

“Imagine that. Two wetbacks creating an American. That’s how they get into our country you know. They come here and spit out seventeen kids a piece so that there’s more of them here than over there.”

Chico was SEETHING. He gritted his teeth and snarled.

“Watch it, Robson.”

“Oh? Am I hitting a nerve?” Robson feigned concern. “Because really that’s the last thing I’m trying to do. Just giving friendly advice. Watch out.”

“For what?” Chico was standing now, and so was Robson. The CO’s grabbed their nightsticks.

“Knowing you spics, she’ll be knocked up by the time she’s fifteen.”

Robson, who prides himself on his street fighting abilities, and the CO’s who prides themselves on their quick response times, couldn’t react fast enough for Chico.

He launched himself at Robson with his plastic fork and punched him in the nose, grabbing at his body and slamming it into the table, palming at the bald head and trying to crack the skull on the table.

The other Latinos and aryans started going at it too, but Chico couldn’t care less.

He just kept trying to kill Robson, his sweet girl’s face in his mind the whole time. How dare he say anything about his perfect little girl?

Robson was bigger and stronger, but Chico was operating with dad strength now.

He felt like he could lift a car in that moment.

The CO’s broke them up and threw Chico into the hole.

He’d never been so honored to sit naked next to a bucket of his own shit.

For the first time, he had no regrets on fighting.

All he could picture was Wendy, sitting there with her big eyes, saying ‘bye bye papi’.

He missed visiting day that week. He’d never cried so hard in his goddamn life. 😭

To be continued…

#hbo oz #oz meme #chico guerra #😭😭🫶#I think season five Guerra and on would be LOCO over loving his child #he’s so tired of it all at this point #this was fun and it will probably be many chapters as I enjoy writing Chico #Miguel Alvarez is in the next chapter #Beecher and Said too #takes a village as they say #keep an eye out for part two!

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harrison-abbott · 3 months

Text

I used to visit Poland a lot when I was younger. It’s the country that I’ve spent the most time in in terms of foreign land (as somebody from Scotland), and I would go around the big cities. But I also visited the countryside a lot, too.

And what I felt about the Polish country especially was a sense of great beauty. Polska is a very beautiful land, with the fields and the forest. There is a dense, rich quality to this nation’s wilderness. And whilst I was watching Shoah (1985) I was reminded of all of that beauty – for a lot of it is shot in the same terrain that I mention.

This is what makes it a highly unusual documentary. Because there is no archival footage whatsoever used to portray the time period in question. What we see instead are scenes of 1980s, beautiful Poland.

Accompanying this visual array, are the interviews and words with real people who were involved with the events that happened forty years earlier. We witness a whole range of people speak about their experiences. And their stories clash and mix with the scenery.

I actually posted on this blog yesterday about H.G. Wells’ book, A Short History of the World. And I was struck by just how much violence was involved in the history between peoples, throughout the ages. It was as if violent behaviour was the key motivator behind what propelled most of the chapters. This group of people invaded another group of people in this other part of the continent, and won over this area of land, for x amount of time, until a new army invaded, and they ruled for y number of years.

And whilst I was reading this book, the violence was somehow diluted because it was so repetitive.

When I watched this documentary ^, the horrors involved were far more subjectively portrayed. Not that I’m saying that the horror in the Wells book was to be ignored. Only that, in this film, the accounts were actual people who were direct witnesses to what happened.

I’m sure we know lots of black comic jokes that are made about this particular topic. People make jokes about this genocide, in crass terms. Be it in cartoons, or in the playground, or just for a sick ‘sense of humour’. It is as if what happened during WWII has ended up as a soup of jargon, in a way, whereby words and phrases such as; holocaust, Auschwitz, concentration camp, gas chambers, Hitler, Nazi: all of these items seem to gloss over the sheer scale of the atrocity.

I remember being in college (FE college, not university) and overhearing a lad talking about his visit he made to Auschwitz with his friends. And he was telling them about “shower jokes” he had made whilst there. And the other folk who were listening were just laughing at them. And I remember reading a novel by a Hungarian writer who repeatedly made black digs about the Jews being sent off to be gassed.

What on earth is funny about what happened?

Often, I marvel at how short a time ago it was. It really wasn’t that long ago. Eighty years ago, as I write this on the 17th March 2024, it was still happening. My own grandfather was a British serviceman in the Royal Engineers, and he was rescued from Dunkirk. And then he went back to Europe and ended up in Berlin after the war ended, where he was a prison guard. Albert Speer was one of the detainees in the prison he guarded.

And I am 31 years old now, and my grandfather was only two generations above me. This is how recent World War Two is in historical terms.

As for a film, it is very good. It is nine and half hours long, so it takes a while. And many of the stories included are so grim that I had to pause for a while and do other things, just because the content got so oppressive. But in the way that is shot, and the manner in which the information is delivered, is somehow magnetic. Or, rather, you feel that you are watching something that is important to watch. Which, I believe, is what films are supposed to do.

Not everything was pretty, in a visual sense, throughout this film.

This was not the point I was trying to make earlier. What I meant was that, there are many areas of Poland where the old camps were demolished and now they are surrounded by green, fertile land. Particularly with Treblinka: it just seems like a lost place in the sticks, and you wouldn’t think anything awful had gone down there if it weren’t for the cemeteries.

But with Auschwitz, it has remained intact. That famous shot of the train track, with the entrance on the horizon. The ominous tower above the entrance … it just looks like something out of Hell.

I think it is profoundly important that they kept Auschwitz preserved. In the same way that it was essential for Claude Lanzmann to have made this epic film.

There are many scenes whereby he interviews, via his translator, the Polish people who remember the Jewish folks before they were taken off to the camps. And the lady translator speaks back to him in French what they said. Lanzmann also speaks in English and German to various other people who were involved. And there is Hebrew at points as well, and Greek. And with this collage of languages, one gets a sense of the magnitude of the whole ordeal. It makes you incredulous how mammoth this massacre was. And stuns you to think that it ever possibly happened.

I won’t go into details about a particular part in the doc: but there was a note of disbelief amongst the victims as well. Or, rather, disbelief before they became victims. They couldn’t believe that they would be murdered in such a way, on a mass scale. And it happened across a whole continent.

This is not an easy documentary to watch. But, it makes you think, and it’s worth experiencing. I certainly rate it highly amongst the many documentaries I’ve seen. And it is a huge achievement from Lanzmann and the rest of his team.

#shoah #important documentaries #important films #documentary #world war two

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melikochan · 1 year

Note

3 Nasadi and Vanasha

Itamen's return to Meridian was a triumphant success for Sun King Avad. Once he was safely ensconced in the palace and away from those who might do him harm, an announcement went out to the Carja noble houses. A great royal procession, followed by a spectacular banquet, was planned in celebration of the young prince's return. Nobles came from all over the Sundom to greet the boy.

Itamen handled the spectacle well for one so young, Vanasha thought with a tinge of pride. He was a sweet and earnest boy, protected enough by his mother to keep him from turning under the scorching gaze of the Shadow Carja.

Nasadi, as always, was a picture of serenity, but Vanasha knew otherwise. The time spent as her handmaiden had allowed the spy to form an intimate familiarity with the dowager queen. It was after a full day of greeting nobles, Itamen finally tucked into bed, that Vanasha visited Nasadi in the queen's chambers. With Avad still unmarried, Nasadi was able to reoccupy her former suite in the palace.

The guards let her in without comment. She found the queen on her balcony staring out into the city night, so vibrant and alive despite the late hour. Nasadi looked wan in contrast.

“I hate seeing you like this,” Vanasha remarked as she approached, careful not to startle the queen.

Nasadi didn't even twitch. She just tightened her grip on the balustrade. “Like what?”

“Lifeless. Meek. Bored. I don't know—whatever this is,” Vanasha replied, gesturing at the queen. “Back in Sunfall, you had such fire in your eyes at the prospect of escape. You had some steel in your spine.”

Nasadi seemed to consider Vanasha's words, in her pensive, quiet way. “In Sunfall, my role was clear. I was a figurehead, mother to the King in Shadow. But here, in Meridian? Who am I? What role do I play? I fear that to Avad, I am but a reminder of his father.”

“You could always marry him, solidify Itamen's status as next in line for the throne,” Vanasha joked, and was almost alarmed when Nasadi seemed to dwell on the idea.

“I have played the role of good Carja wife and mother for my whole life. Look where that landed me—married to a madman. Stolen from my home, barely more than a political prisoner. Forced to protect my only child from cruel tyrants and sycophants. I played my role, dutifully. But what am I now? Am I a prisoner here as well, Vanasha?”

“Avad wouldn't treat you like that, Nasadi.”

Nasadi gave her a flat look, and Vanasha—surprising even herself—blushed.

“Well,” Vanasha conceded, “I don't think he would. I would be disappointed if he did, to be frank. But how about this. Once you and Itamen feel settled here, how about you and I travel together? Do a tour of the Sundom together. You could meet some nice guys, see where things go.”

Nasadi hid a smile behind her hand. “Maybe, once Itamen's place in the palace is secured. I'd like that.” She paused. “We'll see about the, ahem, ‘guys.’”

“Well that's that, then!” Vanasha exclaimed. “Just you and me, taking on the Sundom. There is a delightful little eatery in Brightmarket that has the most delectable sliced boar...”

As she gushed to Nasadi about her favorite spots in the Sundom, she was happy to see the woman relax and start to open up, that sparkle Vanasha was so familiar with return to her eyes. This was the queen that Vanasha knew. She couldn't wait to see how Nasadi would come into her own, with a little freedom.

#prompts #vanasha #nasadi #horizon zero dawn #hzd

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bexfangirlforlife · 1 year

Text

I took some notes, while watching Tatort Berlin: Das Opfer.

So here have my thoughts (disclaimer: I have never watched any Berlin Tatort and I know nothing about it, except the couple posts I saw last night on tumblr and the bit my friend told me about this ep. specifically):

- Ok, let's watch gay Tatort Berlin.

- Wald okay, very spatort 2.

- What? Andreas Pietschmann? Is it?

SO YOU ARE TELLING ME I watch two german cop shows for tumblr two weeks in a row and one week it has Lucas Gregorowicz and next week it has Andreas Pietschmann? WHAT IN THE '4 gegen Z' IS THIS?

- (about the prison visit) both with tears in their eyes. oh they both lost a loved one and they both know...

- ah knight in shining armor tactic, I see

- yeah right as if you can't see that someone ripped the pages out of the book, just keep turning the white pages

- and you didn't notice the key when you were there for the whole night all on your own? It was right there on the floor.

- they could have been brothers... right. (reminded me of the german eurovision commentator about the italy performance)

- "auch verdeckter ermittler?" - "urlaub" ... Why did I find that funny?

- oh fck I read about that, it's the finger thing right? Damn

- wow he went and... talked to his father. That is... something. Oddly healthy.

- yeah I think you do need the ktu

- yes Memo is truly beste Mann

- he made a little scavenger hunt for his lover from teenage days. It would be cute if it wasn't that tragic.

- oh that is so much more Frosch-Stock situation than I thought it would be

- I knew he'd get that tattooed (ok I already knew about some kinda tattoo that looks a bit like a house, but still...)

THE END.

I liked the episode. Maybe it was the strong Tatort Saarbrücken parallels. It was certainly a little weird at times, but I didn't get bored and it wasn't too over the top, so yeah it was good.

#tatort berlin #my thoughts #german stuff #andreas pietschmann #4 gegen z #4><z #lucas gregorowicz

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squishycheekanon · 3 years

Text

Technoblade x reader - set during Techno’s imprisonment.

Warnings: Angst, fluffyish towards the end.

Flashbacks are in bold italics.

Tommy’s mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear over the loud searing noise. You pushed passed Tommy running towards the big building. Your heart dropped to your stomach as your legs moved faster and faster to get there. “No Y/N.” Phil grabbed you by the waist stopping you from running into Pandora’s vault.

“No! Let me go Phil!” You screamed, “let me go!“

“It won’t do any good.” He stated, but you didn’t wanna hear it, kicking out to try and get to Techno.

“Please!” You cried breaking down in his arms, “we need more time.” You whimpered, tears falling from your eyes to stream down your face.

I told him not to do it.

One month he’d been gone, you felt like a zombie, shuffling around in your slippers, sleeping the majority of the day. You didn’t feel like you had a place without Techno. It didn’t even feel like your house was your home anymore. It felt empty, like you.

Phil and Rambo visited you everyday to check on you, but you hadn’t changed. You felt broken when Sam told you that you couldn’t see your beast due to the chance Dream could escape.

“I cant let you in Y/N. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry.

“We’re just supposed to leave him in there! He’s innocent in all of this!” You yelled, pushing Phil’s calming hand off your shoulder.

“Techno’s hardly innocent.” Sam scoffed and you saw red, once again being held back by Phil before you could do any damage.

Two months he’d been gone and you’d been staying in a secret cabin that Techno built a while ago. You’d spent your honeymoon there and some sweet trips. It was far from the smp mainland, you just couldn’t stay in your house anymore.

Everywhere you looked, you saw Techno. Constant reminders that you couldn’t see him in person, you felt you’d loose your mind if you stayed there another second. So you left and went to the smaller cabin, waiting, crying, hurting. Your piglin husband still in prison. With no word from him what so ever and Sam still not budging on letting you see him.

“Don’t give up hope.” Ranboo smiled softly.

“That place is a fortress, I can’t get in and he can’t get out. There is no hope. Hope breeds eternal misery.” You sniffled, wiping away another tear. You just wanted to feel him again, needed to be in his arms once more.

Three months he’d been gone, and now you were pissed. Pissed at Sam for not letting you see him. Pissed at Dream for being well, Dream. Pissed that Techno went ahead with his plan to help greenboy and ended up trapped. Pissed at the world for this situation you found yourself in.

“Promise me one thing Sweetheart.” He said walking over to your annoyed form.

“What?” You huffed, looking his way when he took your hands in his.

“If I get caught, you won’t cry or be sad. Be happy while I try to sort out any mess I’ve caused.” He said tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, tapping under your chin.

“How can you ask that of me? If you get stuck in there,” You paused, couldn’t even fathom how alone you’d feel without your lover. “You can’t ask that of me.” You shook your head, pushing passed him.

“Y/N.” He called your name, following after you.

He had no right to ask that. He’s your whole world and you couldn’t even see him. You were riding Carl, heading to see Phil when you spotted two figures walking to your house.

“Tec?” You frowned, jumping off your horse.

“Sweetheart,” he smiled, “miss me?” You scowled, squinting at him with pure annoyance, hoping he’d feel every spike of it.

You were gunna kill him.

“So I’m gonna take off.” Phil said running into his house as your stormed towards your husband.

“You!” He flinched back looking like a scared little puppy, “how dare you get caught!” At this he smirked.

“So I take it you missed me then.” He joked, you were too busy ranting and scowling at your man, you hadn’t felt his arms encircling your waist. “I missed you so much.” He said making you stop your rant. “I missed touching you. I missed kissing you. Missed watching you walk barefoot across the bedroom floor.” You giggled, feeling your eyes well up with tears. “I thought I’d go crazy missing you.”

“I swear if you ever do anything like this again, I’ll kill you myself.” You said making him chuckle.

“I don’t doubt that you will.” He kissed your forehead, “let’s go, I’ve been waiting too long to sleep in my bed with you.”

#techno angst #mcyt fluff #technoblade imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #techno imagine #technoblade angst #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #dream smp #technoblade fluff #dream smp techno #mcyt angst #dreamsmp members #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp x reader #techno fluff

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

Text

Politics and Violence- Epilogue

Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: A recap of the last few years of the readers life.

Word Count: 1.5k a short, sweet one to summarize everything.

Warnings: Mentions of death, drugs and violence, swearing.

A/n: It's overrrrr. Also I wrote this in a haze cuz I liked passed out hella hard and went dead fish on Justin. So, shoutout to my boyfriend for not letting me hit my head on anything. #stanjustinforclearskin

Ash went to prison seven days after the night I first saw him at the hospital.

He was sentenced to five years, but that his case would be evaluated at eighteen since he was a minor when originally sentenced. He was charged with aggravated criminally negligent homicide which none of us had any fucking clue about until the lawyer explained it to us. The police officer that he shot did end up passing away five days after the shoot out and it only made our case worse. It was hard to sit in the courtroom, watching my younger brother tell our life story, our grandmother, the drugs and the deals. The jury sympathized for him, but they sympathized even more for the officer's family who was sitting front row at every court hearing. It was heartbreaking, tears slipping down my cheeks as I clung to Elliot, the judge finalizing the whole situation. I remember Ashtray being dragged off to the next room, yelling an ‘I love you, sis’ over his shoulder, his broken voice still ringing in my ears to this day.

I would go and visit him as much as they would let me, even just going to tell him about Faye and how close we became in the years after he originally went to jail. I would go and tell him about Elliot, our relationship growing even closer and tight knit by the day. He was amazing and I give him a lot of credit for sticking by me throughout all of this mess. He had seen shit but never this type of bullshit involving the same four people; Fez, Faye, Ash and I. But he knew that he was a part of the family now, needing to get caught up and caught up quickly if he was going to keep up.

Mine and Fez’s relationship got better over the years, returning back to the time where we were depending on one another again. He and Elliot warmed up to each other, the two of them smoking weed and laughing while I would putz around, doing chores. I was happy that they became friends at first, until they would both go out of their way to gang up on me over the stupidest things. It was exactly what I wanted though. I wanted them to be close and I wanted to be able to have both of them in my life, their friendship just made everything easier.

It was hard to go and tell Ash that gram had finally passed.

We woke up one day, her vitals diminished to zero and her lips parted in a quiet sigh. It was shocking, not really something that we had ever thought about happening. I remember holding Fez while he cried, sad to see her finally go but relieved that he could let go of the decade worth of guilt that he felt over her. He was just happy to be able to mourn her properly, inviting all of our friends to attend the funeral.

I took pictures of the day to Ash, reminding him of what he would come home to when he finally got out. He was upset that he couldn’t be there, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at the picture of Fez and I all dressed up in black, but he was missing from the picture and it was evident. There was an Ashtray-sized hole between Fez and I, our smiles sad and bland, wishing that he was there with us.

We moved out of our apartment, the bullet holes in the walls and the blood on the floor kind of put a damper on things. Faye, Fez and I all joined forces, pitching in to rent a house, deciding with the rate that our family was growing at, it was smart. Faye had her own room, same with Fez, both rooms the furthest away from mine so they could both smoke weed and have it not directly waft into my room. It gave Elliot and I our much needed privacy on the other side of the house, my boyfriend pretty much living there as it was, helping out with grocery expenses and occasional bills. I liked to be able to practically live in the same house as my boyfriend and my two best friends- well, three once Ash came home.

I had already set up his room, spending a shit ton of money at Five Below and Walmart on shit that I knew that he would geek out on. I didn’t really tell him about the set up that I created for him, praying that I would get the call that he would be let out on good behavior just so I could go and scoop him up. I wanted his room to be ready just in case.

Elliot lays next to me, his eyes glancing over my body as the breeze blows in from the window, his curls twisting in the wind. My thumbs scrolls aimlessly through my messages and missed calls, deciding to get rid of a lot of them. Elliot had encouraged me to do this, telling me that a 'clean phone made a clean mind'. I think it’s bullshit but he’s cute when he gives advice so I figured I’d give in just this one time.

“Hey, is that voicemail from Ash?” He asks curiously, scooting closer to me as I read the date. My stomach drops, the memory flooding back to me that after my fight with Fez the day of the shootout, Ash left me a voicemail that I had turned a blind eye to. “Shit, you gotta listen to it.” He grins, nudging my shoulder with his as I let out a small laugh, knowing that it would be good to hear his voice since I hadn’t seen him in a week. My finger taps on the play button, playing it out loud as Elliot curls into my side.

“Hey, sis. Comin’ at you from under my covers like I’m some fucking pussy, fuckin' hidin' and shit. You and Fez fighting really like make me think ‘gee is this what it’s like to have parents that fight non-fucking-stop’ cuz shit. I can’t handle this crap. Y'all are so fucking annoying.” I giggle at his tired, sassy voice, rolling my eyes as Elliot snorts, his hand sneaking around my waist. “Look, I know that Fez is a fucking hardass sometimes- a dumbass- but you know he’s just lookin’ out for us. Gram really left him with nothing so I guess he’s doing his best. Not justifying the fact that he pretty much crawled up your boyfriend's ass but-” Elliot bursts out laughing, his eyes squinting as he rolls over, my head shaking playfully as I continue to listen. “I get that I’m the black sheep of this fucking family- I’m not actually related and I know you say that don’t mean shit but it does. I don’t get the shit that you and Fez went through before my ass came along but I get where you’re both coming from. I know you hate it when I play the middle guy but just suck it up and lemme do my goddamn job. Ya know I’m gonna give him an earful when I’m done talking to you- about that, why you not picking up your damn phone?” My smile pains my cheeks at this point, wishing that I would have picked up the phone that night. Maybe things would have ended differently. “I mean, your skinny ass man can not be nearly that entertaining- I swear to god, man.” Elliot’s jaw drops at the insult, feigning offense as his hand rests over his heart.

“I’m never gonna let him live that down.” He mumbles with a pout, catching my lips in a quick kiss as he sits up. “I’m going to steal back all of the fucking comic books that I left in his room.” Elliot’s out the door in a moment's notice with a wicked smirk on his lips, the door shutting behind him as I continue listening to the voicemail.

“Anyways, I just wanted to call and tell you that I love you. No matter what happens I’m always gonna love you- blood or not blood. I know there’s a lot of fucking people saying ‘ayo blood is thicker than water’ but I don’t know if you know the actual quote. Imma tell you it, I just gotta look it up, gimme a sec-” He cuts himself off as he rustles in the background, tears pricking my eyes at the heartfelt words. “Now I don’t believe in no God, I know Fez does but, anyways- the actual quote is from the Bible and it says- uh- ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’ blah blah blah... I don’t mean to get all English professor on your ass but…” He trails off, a sad smile on my lips as my arms ache to wrap around my youngest brother, needing him to be home and safe. “That just means that it don’t matter who your actual family is. It’s the people that you, like, get close to that matter more. And I don’t think there’s a person that I’d rather die for than see hurt than you. No person I love and look up to more. So, enough of that shit. I love you, come home.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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#euphoria season 2 #euphoria #euphoria series #elliot x reader #elliot euphoria #elliot angst #fezco angst #ashtray #ashtray x reader #fez x reader #faye x reader #faye season 2 #faye euphoria

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aike-pandas · 2 years

Note

I lied

imagine RattleSnake Naga y/n. [fangs appear and y/n has small fangs vs the normal sized human ones

HOW THEY MEET

Dream:

he met you when he Exiled Tommy and tried to attack Tommy, you appeared and coiled around Tommy like how snakes do around eggs and rattled and hissed. Your Poison filled fangs flicking out. He fell hard for the reasoning your dangerous. And also I feel like he was the kid to just grab poisonous snakes and kiss them as a joke :/

SapNap:

He was spying on L’ManBurg and tripped over your burrow, you crawled out thinking he was some livestock, the Same time some other Nagas appeared so you panicked and dragged him in to your burrow. Also kissed snakes with Dream

George:

he was talking to XD when you where hunting, and ofc XD saw you and you just hissed as his “GrEatNeSS” scared away that poor pig. So in your book George doesn’t have the best rep;-;

told Dream and SapNap to stop kissing rattle snakes and King Cobras

Karl:

he met your grand ancestor first, the titan boa Naga, and he searched the whole SMP for you and found your Burrow, you both panicked because “Cute small boy.” “Giant snake person.” Took in injured animals PROVE ME WRONG.

Quackity:

you thought he was a snack and coiled around him, like during the butcher army arc and you where visiting Techno, [more like he was visiting you in the warmest place possible that’s kinda close to his house] and you Captured Him and decided he was too pretty :/

More poisonous Snake kissers

BBH:

you where by the neither portal in winter and he walked out, you where dead asleep and he noticed the rattle. Perhaps you where attacked and needed warmth to properly heal, he tapped your scales and I’m sure he’s hella warm, so your tail subconsciously coiled around him and trapped him as he healed your tail as you slept holding him like a teddy

Skeppy:

Cold. Cold man. Ew. -your words exactly when you coiled around him to use as leverage to escape. After so you uncoiled and hissed and bit him, but he turned into diamond at the right time so you just hurt your teeth ;-;

Foolish

you where very. Very lost. Since you prefer the Forest for better soil for Burrows and more prey, but you went to visit someone and now. Your being carried by big golden shark. But it’s okay he’s warm.

AweSamDude

you went into the portal in the prison right as he was entering and you followed after because well, I’m sure the Prison is warm with all of the lava. So you lived on the mice and slept by the cells, until he brought in Dream and he spotted you hiding. He dragged you out causing him to be bitten, on his armor so he had to help you take care of your fangs so you can continue living in the wild.

Wilbur

you helped him build L’ManBurg, and watched him blow it up. . . GhostBur was great company, he was too cold though, he didn’t have your Bur’s warmth. . Until Dream promised to revive him if he got some venom. Which you agreed and now your taking care of the giant man corpse. He can be seen trapped in your tail as you have a hiss off with Quackity, stuck in your burrow as you go hunt. Or Asleep in a shared Cabin you built with a more man-made like burrow with heaters.

We both know I'm going to write little One-Shot of these ideas.

Meeting Naga Y/n!

*Friendly reminder this is with their Minecraft personas! I don't write about CCs.

Read rules before requesting~°♪

————————————————————————————

“Dream”

🧫 Needless to say, he caught a high interest on you.

🧫 You despised him, but this man didn't fall to show you attention every single day, when he went to visit you.

🧫 He didn't fall to give you little things, in exchange of a little proof of your poison.

🧫 After a long, long, time, you accepted.

🧫 After that, you had a good friend, that was completely honest with you despise being a manipulative prick with everyone else.

“Sapnap”

🔥 This man... He was both terrified and amused by your presence.

🔥 And he specially loved the fact that you were strong.

🔥 He was thankful that you decided to not eat him in exchange for meat.

🔥 With your consent, he rubbed gentle over your scales, he loved the feeling.

🔥 Finds your poison very interesting and has questioned you how many things you can kill with it.

🔥 Now he smiles every time you great him, wrapping your tail around him as If you were gonna eat him.

“GeorgeNotFound”

❄️ Despite you disliked him, he was intrigued by you.

❄️ It took a while, but you guys seemed to start liking eachother.

❄️ You guys spent a lot of time cuddling. After all, you guys like warm places.

❄️ George likes how you treat with poisoning XD, finds it entertaining.

❄️ Cuddle buddy✨

“Karl Jacobs”

🌆 God he almost passed out.

🌆 Good thing you managed to caught him.

🌆 You liked him instantly.

🌆 He now tells you stories, specially tales of the past.

🌆 He loves your interesting in them.

“Quackity”

☄️ This man got scared the honk out of his life.

☄️ Was impressed by you, and was careful of not hurting you with his weapons.

☄️ Took a while for you to let him free. You wanted food.

☄️ But he promised to give you food so, you're good.

☄️ He found a new friend and so did you :D

☄️ Loves cuddles with you.

“Badboyhalo”

🌺 He found you adorable once you waked up.

🌺 You got a bit ashamed to the fact that you slept hugging him like a Teddy, but he reassured you that he didn't mind.

🌺 Loves to travel with you, or just spend time in warm zones with you.

🌺 Just like you tangle your tail around him, he tangles his around yours so he doesn't loose you in the way.

🌺 He didn't showed you up to Skeppy, but that was because he didn't want to see his friend fight (again) with another person for the "Bad's Best Friend" title.

🌺 Overall you're two good friends.

“Skeppy”

💮 Needless to say, you both disliked eachother for a long time.

💮 He helped you take your fangs. Under obligation, but he helped.

💮 He really, really, really, disliked the "cold" comment.

💮 Somehow you both managed to start liking eachother, no one knows how, but you guys do you.

“Foolish”

☀️ He saw you as both company and a pet. That's it.

☀️ Definitely had to fight with XD for his attention.

☀️ He had a big interest in you. And you were happy to answer his questions.

☀️ You both now had a good goofy friend.

“Awesamdude (Sam)”

☘️ He really didn't know what to do with you.

☘️ He did take well care of you though, so there's that.

☘️ He actually didn't mind letting his mind focus on anything else than Dream.

☘️ You're both friends now.

“Wilbur Soot”

🪐 So, you know those people that use their snake pets as a collar? Yeah, that's him.

🪐 It was truly hard to make you accept, but he succeeded in the end so... Yeah.

🪐 He loves how intimidating you get, specially when it comes to Quackity.

🪐 He feels safe with you, and gives you cuddles as a price for being a good Naga.

————————————————————————————

*Hallo! Hope you enjoyed!

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Content/Warnings: swearing, mentions of mother abandonment

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

Chapter 4

“You have a call from an inmate at the Washington D.C. Correctional Facility. To accept these charges, please press 1. To decline-,” you punched in the 1.

“Hey Spencer,” you greeted him.

“How did you know it was me?” he grinned.

“There’s not too many prisoners calling me, believe it or not,” you teased.

“I was calling to see if you could do me a big favor,” he spoke.

“What’s up?”

“My lawyer has told me that JJ told her my mom isn’t doing so well. She’s in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s,” he informed you.

“How can I help?” you asked.

“Could you bring Callie to go see her? I really think a familiar face could do a lot of good for her.”

“Of course, I’m 5 minutes away from her school. We can head right over,” you stated.

“Thank you so so much. Also, she doesn’t know I’m in prison so tell Callie just to tell her I’m away on a case. She’s in a fragile condition so it’s best to just say yes to everything she asks,” Spencer explained.

“Will do. If you are able to stay on the line for a few more minutes, you can say hi to Callie,” you told him.

“I was the last in line so I should be able to. I’ve got 6 minutes left,” Spencer said.

A bit of an awkward silence filled your car.

“So…are there any more injuries I need to attend to before work tomorrow?” you asked.

“No, I’ve got some help,” Spencer spoke vaguely.

“Okay, that’s good, I guess,” you pulled the car to a stop as Callie hopped in the passenger seat, “Your dad is on the phone, Callie.”

“Hi Dad!” she greeted.

“Hey sweetheart. How’s it going?” he asked.

“Really good. At soccer practice today, Coach told me I’m going to be a starter next game,” she beamed.

“That’s amazing! I wish I could be there to see it,” Spencer frowned slightly.

“Which is why I bought a camcorder so I can record the whole game for you to watch later as well as other things you may be sad to miss,” you said.

“Y/N, as much as I appreciate all you do for us, you need to stop spending so much money. I feel bad, I’ll reimburse you as soon as I’m out.”

“Spencer, I’m a doctor who rarely goes out and my closest friend is a cat. I have some money to spare,” you assured him.

“Why are you going left here?” Callie asked as you made a turn that wasn’t on your usual route home.

“Your dad wants you to visit your Grandma,” you replied.

“Callie, she just needs a familiar face so talk to her about your new school, soccer, anything but me going to jail,” Spencer explained, “Okay, I have 30 seconds left. Bye, love you, sweetheart!”

“Bye, Dad! Love you too!”

“Stay safe!” you added.

You walked up to the receptionist's desk with Callie, “Hi, she’s here to see Diana Reid.”

“Hi Callie, long time no see! No Dr. Reid today?” she asked.

“No, he’s away on a case,” you smiled politely.

“Callie, she’s in her room, dear,” the receptionist directed you down the hall.

Once you were outside the door, you stopped, “I’ll wait out here. Remember, your dad is on a long case. You are staying with the LaMontagne’s. And just agree with the stuff she says to not upset her,” you reminded Callie, “I’ll be right out here when you’re done.”

Before you had a chance to sit down in the waiting room, the door swung open.

“Grandma!” Callie exclaimed.

“My dear Callie,” she hugged her.

She looked up at you, “Is this who I think it is?”

You thought back to Spencer’s words.

She’s in a fragile condition so it’s best to just say yes to everything she asks.

“Um yes?” you answered.

“Callie’s mom! Oh my! I haven’t seen you in ages. I forgot what you even looked like, I remembered you differently. Forgive me, dear, could you remind me of your name?” she asked.

You looked to Callie for help but she looked just as confused as you and shrugged. She must not know either.

“Y/N,” you extended your hand for her to shake.

“What a beautiful name,” she smiled, “Come in! Come in!”

“So Callie, how has my favorite granddaughter been?” she asked.

“I’m your only grandchild, Grandma,” Callie playfully rolled her eyes, “I’ve been really well! Y/N-I mean Mom actually got me into a better school and I’ve been keeping busy with soccer and clubs and hanging out with friends.”

“That’s wonderful to hear! Y/N, how are you doing?” she turned to you.

Shit. What the fuck were you supposed to say?

“I’ve been well,” you simply stated with a nervous smile.

“Are you and Spencer dating again?”

I suppose you had to agree to this too.

“Yes, we are,” you nodded.

“Well, I hope you are back for good this time,” she stated.

That seemed kind of back-handed but maybe deserved, you didn’t know Callie’s mom’s backstory. You just continued to nervously smile through the rest of the visit as Callie caught up with her grandma.

“Well that was awkward,” you sighed as you got back into the car after the visit, “I need a milkshake.”

Callie was silent all the way to the drive-thru and as you ordered two large chocolate milkshakes and fries.

Finally, she spoke as you parked the car in the parking lot to eat, “I mean you’re more of a mom to me than my own mom. Dad never really told me much about her. She must have left when I was a baby because I don’t remember her at all.”

“I’m sure your dad has his reasons for not telling you but you must know that her leaving wasn’t your fault at all,” you told her.

“Who would leave a baby and my dad?” she teared up.

“I don’t know, honey,” you pulled her in for a hug, “It was her loss though whoever she is because she didn’t get to see what an amazing girl you have become.”

“Reid, visitor,” the guard called out.

Please let it be Callie and or Y/N, Spencer prayed.

He needed a ray of sunshine in his otherwise completely dark week. He didn’t want it to be the team or his lawyer asking if he remembered anything else because he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He slumped out of bed and let the guard cuff him on the way to the visitor room. His pace quickened when he saw you waiting there for him, just as beautiful as always.

You smiled at first when you saw him but it morphed into a frown when you saw fresh bruises forming.

“Spencer, I thought you said you had help,” you whispered.

“Apparently not all of the time,” he mumbled.

You bit your bottom lip worriedly, “Well, I brought my med kit.”

You got up and started to inspect his face.

“How did the visit with my mom go?” he asked.

“Good, I guess,” you replied.

“You guess?”

“She saw me before I went to the waiting room. I said yes to everything she said but that included her thinking that I was Callie’s mom and that we were dating,” you grimaced.

Spencer sighed, “Oh god.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do,” you apologized.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. You were just doing what was told. Did Callie have questions?”

You nodded.

Spencer ran his hands through his hair, “I knew this day would come but I’m still not prepared. I just avoid thinking about it at all costs.”

“Do you want to talk to me about it and maybe I can help you put the right words together,” you offered.

“Um okay, her name was Austin. I met her on a case. She was a bartender. We were long distance for a bit. She got pregnant early on in the relationship. We decided to try to make it work. She moved in with me in D.C. and had Callie. When Callie was about 4 months old, she got overwhelmed and just left…just like that. I went to the park with Callie and came back to find all of her things gone and a note that just said ‘sorry’. I haven’t heard from her since. We were trying to force a happy ending that wasn’t there,” Spencer finished.

“Well lucky for Callie, she has one amazing dad and that is more than enough,” you reassured him.

“And a pretty kick ass foster mom,” Spencer smiled.

“I try my best,” you grinned.

A/N: i have a smut one-shot (not related to this series) coming out tomorrow and i’m very excited about it

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana-deactivated20210709 @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme @nani-2305 @obsessivelysearching @fantasynerd09 @bvttercupbby @britishspidey @ladyravenclaw @belledawnidk @annesauriol @smokey102 @lady-himbo @kaitieskidmore1 @westanspencerreid @manuosorioh @haylaansmi @unhea1thy0bsessions @meganskane @lovergirl24 @queenariesofnarnia @asexual-booknerd @spideyyypeter @yeehawbitchs @emma-is-a-nerd @lellsinthesky @itsdars @aliahemmings97 @xdsage @cutekashi @theodore-likes-frogs @girlgotattitude448 @royalestrellas @co0chiegrip1

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #cm fic #cm fanfic

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cacoetheswriting · 3 years

Text

a promise of forever

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: really just a big ball of fluff, a very brief mention of spencer's time in prison word count: 1.8k prompt: "i'm not very good with words..." summary: a rather unusual and a slightly delayed exchange of vows.

a/n: this is a my one shot submission for @ellesgreenaway 1k milestone celebration! india, a huge huge congratulations to you again 🎉 you're so incredibly talented and you deserve every single one of those follower, if not a million more! 🥳🧡 now, this is my first fic in a couple of weeks, and i think it's quite fitting that i wrote this instead of working on my own vows oops

A faint shine coming from the side lamp hit against the gold band on your finger, the glimmer instantly catching your eye. The book you were reading, was now closed in your lap and your gaze travelled to the ring, a smile creeping up on your features.

The item, however simple and dainty, carried with it so much meaning. Not only was it a symbol of undying everlasting love, showcasing to the world you were married to the person of your dreams. It was also a constant reminder of what you and Spencer overcame to get here. How far the two of you have come.

To say the last year was tough would be an understatement.

Spencer wasn’t the same after his release from prison. Often distant and quite reserved. His true self hidden from the rest of the world, afraid of getting so deeply hurt again. You of course didn’t put any blame on him for acting differently or resent him for it. What he went through was challenging enough, and you loved him more with each day regardless because he was still Spencer. Your Spencer.

And he adored your patience and your understanding. He adored the kindness you showed him while he regained control over his life. Simply, he adored you and he counted his blessings every day he spent with you.

One faithfull Saturday morning, Spencer asked you to marry him.

Completely out of the blue, while you were tangled together in the cotton bedsheets with morning breath and ruffled hair. He said he didn’t want to wait any longer because if his time in prison taught him anything, it would be not to waste moments with the people you cared about the most.

You cried. Tears of happiness, pure unfiltered joy.

Later, the very same day, the two of you stopped by a jeweler to invest in simple yellow-gold wedding bands before heading hand in hand to the court house. No muss, no fuss. No guests, no flowers, no cake, no vows. Nothing but unconditional love and a large order of chocolate chip pancakes afterwards, to celebrate.

It was the perfect day and you wouldn’t do it any differently.

You didn’t need anything else, neither did he. The memory along with the wedding ring was a promise in itself. A lifetime together. A lifetime of happiness. However, as you watched the band glisten on your finger, you couldn’t help but wonder what else Spencer would have promised you in his vows if he ever got a chance to say them.

And that’s how the brunette doctor found you - lost too deep in thought, attention solely focused on your wedding ring.

You, of course, didn’t hear him come in.

Spencer smiled to himself, quietly closing the door behind him so as not to startle you. He placed his bag down before ambling towards the back of the couch. His hands landed on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze to grab your attention, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Hi, my love.”

“Hello, beautiful.” Spencer bent over slightly, his lips catching yours in a tender welcoming kiss. “Let me go wash up quickly and you can tell me all about your day,” he added and you nodded, following him with your eyes until he disappeared into the bedroom.

While he cleaned himself up after an undeniably hectic workday, you sprung up on your feet and headed to the kitchen to cook up a late dinner for the two of you.

Spencer rejoined you shortly and immediately began playing sous chef, assisting you with preparing the meal. While the two of you worked over the various pots and pans, you exchanged with one another stories of how your days went. Listening attentively, joking together. Then you ate together before reconvening back to the couch.

A typical, and honestly, an ideal evening together when he wasn’t travelling.

“What were you thinking about earlier, when I got home?” Spencer asked, making himself comfortable next to you. You draped your legs over his lap with ease and his hands instantly made home on your thigh.

“Do you ever wonder what I would say to you in my vows if our wedding day looked any different?” you asked straight out, because there was no secrets between the two of you.

Spencer pondered the question for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he answered honestly, “Do you?”

You briefly chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Sometimes,” you confessed, a hint of guilt and hesitance detectable in the tone of your voice.

He hummed softly at your response and proceeded to place a tender kiss on your temple. “I could tell you,” he murmured into your hair before pulling away, “If you’d like that is.”

His eyes found yours and a timid smile circled your lips at his offer.

“You don’t have to, Spence, I’m honestly happy not knowing and letting my imagination run free. Plus, I wouldn’t want to put you on the spot—”

“Y/N,” he politely cut in, “I’ve known what I would say to you in my vows ever since our first date.”

The sentence caused you to playfully roll your eyes, as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered free. “Hmm…” you smacked your lips together, “I don’t think I believe you,” you teased him with a chuckle.

Spencer pressed his tongue to his lips as he smirked at your comment. He took your innocent joke as a sort of challenge however, because in one swift motion, before you got a chance to react or say anything else, he pulled you in closer by your legs before taking your hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I can recite the entirety of the English dictionary off by heart, but ironically I'm not very good with words—” Spencer began, his hazel gaze locking with yours, “—because when I think how to express how I truly feel about you, and how incredibly lucky I am to have you by my side, my mind goes completely blank and my eidetic memory is no longer of use.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, and you could just imagine the whole crowd laughing because whether Spencer liked to admit it or not, he was incredibly funny without even trying.

“However, as I sit here before you tonight, I will give my all to make the most sincere promise one heart can make to another. Y/N, I have waited a long time for you, and I promise from this day on until forever to be your constant love, your shoulder to cry on, your partner for life. I vow to give you the best of myself and not ask for anything in return. I vow to respect you. Respect your desires, your interests and needs.”

You could feel your eyes gloss over, as Spencer inhaled before continuing, "I promise to keep myself open to you and share with you my deepest feelings, thoughts, and dreams. I promise to continuously surprise you in hopes of bringing you joy and seeing you smile, because you have the most beautiful smile.”

Spencer gently rubbed circles into your hand with his thumb as he spoke, and the amiable loving look in his eyes made you think he didn’t really have these vows prepared beforehand, like he said he did.

He was speaking purely from the heart.

“I promise to love you through thick and thin. The good times and the bad. In sickness and in health. I promise to love you with every fibre of my being, until the end of time.” He paused, by that point salty wet droplets were slowly trailing down your jawline.

Spencer continued, “Now, I have been called many things in my life and gone by many different titles. From this day on however, the most important title I’ll hold is husband. Your husband.”

Silence filled the room once he concluded. A benevolent and earnest silence.

Nothing could have prepared you for what he said, and how his words would make you feel. How you thought it wasn’t possible to love him anymore than you already did, yet here the two of you sat and your heart swelled inside of your chest.

Spencer’s hand travelled to your cheek. He cupped it gently, wiping away any lone tears that escaped.

“You know—” you murmured, leaning into his touch and placing a kiss on the palm of his hand, “— for someone who claims they’re not good with words, you just strummed all the right heartstrings. I therefore dumb thee— a liar...”

The brunette doctor let out a soft chuckle at your comment and then proceeded to scoop you into his lap, completely effortlessly. He held you close by the waist while your fingers played with his brunette curls.

“And it’s a good thing you have an eidetic memory, my love, because I will ask you to recite those promises to me over and over and oveerrr again,” you added and Spencer threw his head back in a smooth laugh.

“How about I type them up and we can frame them instead?” he suggested, arching a brow. You licked your lips, considering the question for a moment, however before you got a chance to reply, Spencer added, “It would however, be nice to have both of our vows up...”

It was your turn to laugh, “I have nothing prepared, Spence. Not to mention, yours were so heartfelt and honest, I don’t think I can compete.”

The smile on Spencer’s face grew a little wider and he leaned in to peck your lips, “Say whatever that comes to mind, beautiful.”

“You’re not going to let this go now, are you?” you enquired and Spencer shook his head in response, a goofy grin plastered across his features.

“I really have my mind set on those frames now. Maybe we can hang them over our bed, or maybe we can dedicate a shelf to them in the bookcase.”

You raised a brow, “You’d give those frames a whole shelf?”

He nodded, “A whole shelf.”

The thought of your promises to one another typed up and on view for everyone that came to visit the apartment made you smile.

Glancing briefly at your wedding ring, looped among Spencer’s brunette curls, you nervously chewed on the inside of your cheek before glancing back into his hazel eyes. “I’m not very good with words—” you began with a modest tese, “—Therefore, I hope you don’t mind that I’m going to borrow someone else's.”

You paused, letting out a delicate shaky breath. “Atticus wrote, ‘I lost my way all the way to you and in you I found my way’. You are my everything, Dr. Spencer Reid. Thank you for choosing me, for loving me, for making me feel safe, for making me laugh, and for making my life a million times richer.”

Spencer’s lips found yours the second you finished, wrapping them in a gentle yet passionate kiss. A desirable sensation instantly spread through you, because when he kissed you like this, it was as if he was kissing you for the very first time.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered after slowly pulling away, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you too,” you expressed with a genuine smile.

masterlist

#ellesgreenawaybookclub #eek i hope you like this india #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

Do you consider a possibility that c!Punz never betrayed c!Dream in the first place and whole "I'm sorry, Dream -- but you should have paid me more" thing was a facade and undercover for Punz? Like Dream said that Punz should not associated with him, so it was intentional-

staged disc finale theory my beloved !!! :D it’s definitely one of my favorite theories, though i’m still holding out (for now) as for believing super firmly in one direction or another (tho the staged finale is definitely the one i prefer for Many reasons, haha.) c!punz is so so fun no matter if the betrayal was intentional or not, but oh boyyyy if it was something planned ,,, man .

*c!dream voice, after quackity starts visiting*: the risk i took was calculated, but man am i bad at math.

anyway c!punz and c!dream interactions make me soft as heck so have this !!

tw: implied torture, abuse, violence, blood, injuries, emotional distress, panicking, dehumanization, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy mindsets, illness, trauma, flashbacks, starvation mention, suicide mention, death mentions, dark content, dark imagery, prison arc/pandora’s vault themes, c!quackity critical/dark portrayal of c!quackity

Dream comes to in vague moments and flashes.

There’s a hand brushing over his forehead, too gentle to be Quackity or the Warden, not Techno because Techno is Gone and he has Left and won’t come again, running through the sweat-soaked locks and pulling them back out of his forehead. He’s unbearably hot, shifting around on the ground, only barely registering it moving beneath him. Water, cool and clear, is tipped in between his lips, quenching his thirst and easing the dryness of his mouth. Someone speaks, voice low and rumbling, and even though he’s unable to make out the words, there’s something about the cadence of them and the specific rhythm in which they move and rise and dip that is bone-achingly familiar, enough to lull him into a fitful sleep. Through it all, there is always something, someone, lingering in the edges of his vision, a shadow standing near and watching over him; part of him remembers Quackity, remembers the Warden, and recoils in fright; another part of him remembers Techno, remembers the barest flashes of a life before obsidian and lava and pain and hell, and wants nothing more than to get closer.

When the fog in his head finally clears away enough to think, the first coherent thought he has is oh fuck, I need to piss.

Which, out of all possible things to think, is probably up there as one of the worst, and he’s sure that when his head feels a little less like it’s trying to actively kill him (ha, let it- it’s far from the first to try) the panic will settle in as it always does. As it is, he’s exhausted, and hungry, and he really really needs to pee- so he forces his eyes open to move away from where he’s probably still stuck in a puddle of dried blood in the middle of his cell.

The second coherent thought he has is this: this isn’t Pandora.

The realization has him thoroughly awake, eyes snapping open out of his previous fatigue to take in his surroundings, feet kicking out to the weight on top of them that he hadn’t even noticed was there, panicking against his restraints that end up not being restraints at all, giving way easily under his thrashing and resolving to what appears to be a thick blanket when he has the mind to look. With the covers gone off of whatever he’s lying on (a bed?) he’s suddenly, unbearably cold - the prison has always been hot, the lava baking into him and leaving his skin sticky with sweat, and he thinks that the room he’s in is probably not meant to feel like a fucking freezer, but after months of being one wrong step away from heatstroke, anything cooler than the goddamn Nether feels like literal ice against his skin. The room is wooden and cozy and oddly familiar, an open door leading to what appears to be a bathroom and a closed one going who knows where, window panes built into the opposite wall to let the sunlight in. It’s a nice room, all things considered, and Dream fucking hates it.

He pulls himself to his feet, cursing at the wobbly edge to his stance when he finally manages to stand, his vision wavering dangerously in time to the spinning of his head. His eyes flick between the two doors - he still needs to go to the bathroom, and using it now will lessen the amount of things to get in the way of his escape in the future - but at the same time, there's no knowing when people will come to (hurt him, beat him, starve him, punish him, leaving him bruised and bleeding and half-dead on the floor just as he deserves) him and he needs all the time he can get to get the hell away. In the end, he slinks into the bathroom, ignoring the thudding in his chest as he does so - at the very least, the cabinets in the thing might provide him with some manner of a weapon.

He’s only just past the door on the way out - a fucking broomstick in his hand because it’s all he could find - when his ears catch on the sound of metal clicking against each other and his eyes fall on the knob of the other door shaking as someone makes their way in. All at once, panic slams into him - goddammit, he should’ve just run when he had the chance - and he directs quick, desperate glances at the window. Maybe, if he’s fast enough, he can book it out of there and disappear into the trees; it’ll hurt, but it’ll be better than getting caught. Anything would be better than getting caught-

“Dream?”

Dream blinks. All at once, the same feeling of getting the air punched out of him returns, but combined with something warm and floaty wrapping around his chest, something almost a little like relief - and hell, if that isn’t something he’s not felt for a while.

“Punz?”

Punz is standing in the doorway, hoodie rumpled, expression more than a little frazzled; Dream’s breath hitches at the sight of the sword strapped to his side, but their face holds none of the harsh edges and cold-dark-hard hatred that had characterized the Warden and Quackity’s visits, mouth slightly parted and eyes shining with nothing but what appears to be shock and concern. The sight of them, again, nearly has Dream dizzy, a swell of tangled, unexplainable emotion rising to the back of his throat as he sways on his feet. He hadn’t thought that he would see Punz again, he realizes, had never thought he’d see his stupid gold chain and his stupid outfit he never bothered changing, ever, or that same lopsided smirk and pale blue eyes- the last time he’d seen them, it was in that vault, their mouth twisted up in the act the two of them had decided on and eyes shimmering with unease and regret; as far as goodbyes went, it wasn’t the worst, not when Punz was one of the few to never leave him, not really, not when something ached in their expression other than the hatred that had colored all of the other expressionless faces watching him die. Months later, alone in Pandora, he must’ve grown resigned, or something, the repeated reminders that he would die alone and afraid and it would be nothing more than he deserved settling into his skin and against his bones; Punz’s expression twists, visible even across the room, and- oh.

They must’ve thought the same thing, too.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Punz asks, finally, and Dream decides not to point out the way his voice cracks harshly in the middle, especially when the other man strides forward and starts to awkwardly herd him back in the direction of the bed - covers still thrown to the floor - in the middle of the room. Dream lets them, not replying because he doesn’t really know where to even begin describing the tangled knot of panic and shock that had strung his muscles tense when he woke up in a room he didn’t recognize, not knowing if he can really describe it all at all, trying his best not to flinch at the hands flitting in the corners of his vision as he falls back into a sitting position onto the bed. His fingers settle into the mattress, pressing into the bedsheets cautiously and marveling when they fall away under the pressure. Punz watches him, expression odd, gathers the blankets from the ground and presses them over and around him in a way that’s entirely awkward but does leave him warmer than he’d been before, before walking back on his heels with an odd expression that makes Dream’s insides twist.

“You,” Punz says after a long second, voice wavering, “are a fucking idiot,” and it’s all the warning Dream gets before a white-and-black blur is rushing towards him, arms wrapping around his chest and his vision whites out in alarm and panic. When the pain doesn’t come, he comes back to his senses enough to realize that Punz’s arms are still wrapped around him, shoulders shaking as he holds him close but not painfully, careful not to pull too much against the places on his ribs and back that leave him gasping with small shocks of pain, head pressed against the crook of Dream’s neck and hair tickling his face. Dream can feel his heart hammering in his chest, but as the panic dies something warm and long-neglected stirs in the middle of his chest, and he melts forward with a quiet hum. This is- nice. Really, really nice.

“What were you thinking?” Punz mutters, too quiet to really be directed at him, hands curling tighter into the folds of the hoodie - oh, he’s wearing one of those, not the same stiff, bloodstained material of the prison uniform that had chafed against his skin, another constant source of pain and discomfort of thousands in the hell that had been Pandora’s Vault - on him, and Dream doesn’t really know what to do except sit there and blink dumbly, listening to the heartbeat of the person leaning against him rumbling against his ears. It’s oddly calming, has the pressure on his chest lightening enough to take a full breath, and then another, the warmth of someone leaning against him almost too much but not enough at the same time - his eyes burn, and he ignores them.

“I-” he doesn’t really think that Punz was really asking a question, but just ignoring his question seems rude, too, and even despite the fuzzy warmth settling into his skin and into his bones from the pressure of Punz’s arms around his body and their head against his shoulder, he’s still unable to shake the anxiety of leaving a query unanswered, a constant murmur to listen obey do as you’re told or you’re going to regret it put on a damn good show or suffer the consequences remaining no matter how hard he tries to push it away. He wets his lips when his mouth feels too dry to keep speaking, eyes fluttering closed as he leans forward further, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You-” Punz cuts themselves off with a wet, incredulous-sounding laugh that has Dream jerking back despite himself, meeting their ice-cold eyes when they pull themselves back to look at him. He doesn’t really recognize the expression he wears, Dream realizes with a jolt, the way his lips are pressed together and the churning in his eyes, and his lungs seize in his chest.

“Sir-”

If anything, Punz’s expression only seems to harden, and the warmth disappears as Dream looks into their eyes - cold, two polished shards of ice, frosted over pools of water in the middle of the tundra, flinty and sharp and brilliant blue. His hands shake as he pulls them back to his chest, trembling from the chill that’s made its home in his muscles and frozen them in place - sir sorry sir please don’t hurt me im sorry please I didn’t mean to

“Fuck, Dream,” he shakes his head, and only then does Dream see the slight wobble to their bottom lip, the waver to their words like they’re struggling to keep themselves together, “why didn’t you say anything?”

What?

You almost died, you know,” he keeps going, not meeting his eyes as they direct their gaze out the window, “Several times, honestly. Fucking hell- when Techno brought you out- I didn’t think you would survive. I didn’t think anyone could survive that.”

Dream swallows. He doesn’t remember getting out, doesn’t really remember much at all if he’s being honest; there was the black of the cell, the heat of the lava, Techno promising to get him out before disappearing in a flash of purple, Quackity throwing him against the wall (Where the fuck did Techno go? You better have a fuckin’ answer, pal, if you want your death to be anything resemblin’ quick-) then nothing. Everything. His heart hammering in his chest and blood slick against his skin and the press of metal against his windpipe and pain, the only constant within it all, the only thing that made any goddamn sense when the room seemed to flip and turn and twist and his feelings knotted and frayed between anger-betrayal-distress-sadness-fear-grief, when reality swirled into a dizzying blur of colors and feelings and sounds carving themselves into the inside of his skull- then here. Dream flexes his hand experimentally, marveling at the feeling - the pain is almost gone.

He’d forgotten how it felt, really, to live and not hurt.

“Dream,” Punz calls again, voice low and worried, and Dream can’t help the way his head snaps up to meet their eyes and can’t help the flinch that twists his neck back when their frown deepens. It’d been a show, at least he tells himself, because Quackity would stop earlier if he screamed more, but- his hands tremble at his sides, twisted into the sheets of the bed, a near-constant litany of reminders and rules beating like they have a heart of their own in the back of his head. It was a show- he feels himself almost buckle, give in under the force of the stare leveled at him, and hates himself for how weak he feels, pinned under the eyes trained on his own. He’s not sure how much of a show it is anymore.

“Dream,” Punz repeats, words even softer, and the ugly feeling of shame and anger twists inside Dream’s chest again. Punz- ever unflappable, deadly with almost any weapon and never letting anyone see him as anything but deliberately apathetic - is watching him with an expression so uncharacteristically and unbearably gentle that it makes his breath catch in his throat. “You could’ve died,” he says once again, and the look that paints his face is so terribly vulnerable, feelings pouring over like a cup overfilled, bubbling forward and bleeding from every corner, and Dream- can’t. He doesn’t know what to do in the face of such stark emotion, doesn’t know how how to handle the way his eyes burn and his heart throbs like an exposed nerve, the way everything yawns wide in the middle of his chest into void and emptiness and pain so deeply carved in the space within his ribs that he half-thinks he’s been hollowed out entirely.

“But I didn’t.”

Punz pulls back, but Dream isn’t looking at him, is staring at the scarred surfaces of the backs of his hands and the knobs of his knuckles sticking out against the thinned-out skin and the yellowed nails he’s pushing against the blanket, the fourth and fifth ones of his right hand missing. They shake, no matter how long he looks at them and how hard he tries to make them stay still, and he can feel a voice whispering in the back of his mind, tone too familiar to ignore. Weak.

“I didn’t die,” he says when Punz doesn’t reply, looking at his scarred hands, weak hands, broken hands. “So it’s okay. We can keep- we can keep going.”

“Dream-” their voice is a blade scraping against an anvil, nails scraping over his ribs, his hands clamping over his ears before he’s realized he’s moved and his brain screaming at him for doing so once he realizes that he has, “-what the fuck are you talking about?”

Still, he hadn’t survived months of Quackity’s visits by bending over the second he was pushed, so he forces his tongue to move from where it’s fallen to the bottom of his mouth like lead, feels his eyes go steely even from under the way his vision has already begun to wobble.

“It’s not over yet,” he continues, trying to keep his words even, “‘cause I didn’t die, so we’re not done. I gotta- we have to reevaluate, of course,” he can’t stop, because the second he stops talking is the second he falls apart, so he ignores the way that Punz stiffens and stills and doesn’t let anything stop the flow of words spilling out of his mouth, “because the vault and the prison- um, obviously didn’t go as planned, but it’s fine. Just a minor- um, minor inconvenience. A setback- but it’s not- it’s not unsalvageable- we just have to-”

“Are you kidding me?” Punz cuts him off with a sharp laugh, disbelieving and just on the wrong side of desperate, and the air in Dream’s lungs freezes into a solid block of ice in the middle of his chest, “you- you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Punz?”

Dream’s voice comes out small, himself shrinking back into the bed, keenly aware, suddenly, of how there is nowhere he can go to run - Punz doesn’t seem to notice that he’s spoken at all, one of his hands moving up to tug through his hair, which is - now that Dream is looking - fluffier and messier than he remembers, sticking up in all directions like they didn’t bother to smooth it down.

“You think this is fine? You think that because you didn’t fucking die, that this is all okay?” Punz’s voice rises in volume slowly, not loud enough to be a shout but enough to go hard and unyielding like a threat, and with each word every remnant of the vault comes crawling, clawing back up to the front of his head, a pounding reminder to play his role, put on a show, behave behave behave-

“Goddammit, Dream,” Punz startles him out of his own thoughts, looking straight into his eyes with their ice-blue ones, “have you seen yourself?”

Have you seen yourself? Lying down in your own goddamn filth like a fucking mutt- prime, you disgust me.

“Your ribs were basically shattered. Your legs had fractures on both sides, and your back was so fucking torn up that it looked like more blood than skin. You’ve been starved- enough for me to see every goddamn bone in your body, it feels like. Your throat was bruised to hell- I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be able to speak again, fuck, and like a day after we got here you got fucking pneumonia.” Punz’s breath hitches, “Your skin was a literal fucking oven- I thought you’d bake yourself from the inside out. You could’ve died- you should’ve died.”

You should’ve died a hell of a long time ago, pal- should’ve saved us all the fucking trouble and offed yourself like Wilbur fucking Soot.

He flinches, and this, Punz seems to notice, eyes widening a fraction before they pitch their voce lower, clearly taking a few breaths to calm down and reaching forward to take one of Dream’s hands loosely in his own, thumb smoothing over the bumps of his knuckles.

“You’re not fine,” he says after a long while, shaking his head. “Hell- I’m not fine. But we’re not doing anything like- like the vault or the prison again, dude. I told you they were shit ideas- fuck. We never should’ve done that.”

“It was worth it,” Dream butts in, because he can’t imagine a world where it wasn’t, can’t imagine a world where all of that was for nothing, “it was worth it-”

“No it fucking wasn’t, are you out of your mind?” Punz replies immediately, voice overlapping over Dream’s own, “have you listened to a single thing I’ve said? You- look at you! How was that worth it?”

Dream shakes his head stubbornly, already feeling the way his jaw is trembling around the words he forces himself to speak. “The server- it was all for the server-”

“Fuck the server!”

Punz seems startled by their own shout, drawing back at the same time Dream does, breathing ragged. He takes a few seconds to compose himself, bringing his hand to his face as Dream sits stock still, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe.

“Fuck the fucking server, okay?” Punz says, finally, voice cracking in the middle, “You lost two damn lives for this server. You got fucking tortured for fucking months for this shitstain of a server. Just- fuck them. I’m not watching you tear yourself to fucking shreds for this- not again. I can’t sit around and watch you fucking die again, Dream, I can’t drag you out bleeding out in my fucking arms again- fuck-” Punz shakes their head, and oh. They’re crying.

“No more. Fuck the server. I’m done, Dream- we’re done with them.”

Dream blinks, so thoroughly surprised that he thinks the shock knocked him straight out of the building panic attack, leaving nothing but a slight thrumming of anxiety still simmering beneath his skin. Almost instinctually, in a motion he doesn’t really remember but still has the muscle memory for, he opens his arms- and in a similar, near-unconscious response, Punz tumbles into his arms.

He blinks, not moving his arms to curl around the other, feeling the weight of another person against his again and the sound of their breathing and relearning them both. This is- new, for both of them. Dream was never emotional, not before the prison, not that he wanted to be after it either- but Quackity always had a particular affinity for tearing him apart, shard by shard. And Punz- he’d never been like this, even back in the day, when things were easier and they didn’t bear the constant burden of netherite against their backs. They’d always been stoic, sharp, sarcastic, cool and dry in a way that chafed against Sapnap’s fire and always led to Dream laughing at them sooner or later. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, feeling the heat behind his eyes finally sear too hot and boil over, tears squeezing through his closed eyes and falling down his face.

“Okay,” he says, finally, and there’s nothing easy about the acquiescence, not when he had poured blood and sweat and the better half of himself into this place, salted the earth with his tears until no more would come and nothing else would grow. He thinks that he will have more to think and more to say and more to protest come the next days, that the binds between him and his goals have been weaved too deep with the fibers of his soul for him to tear them free without sacrificing what broken pieces of himself he has left, but all he can think right now is how fucking tired he is. He remembers Techno’s voice, going through myth after myth to pass time in the prison, and thinks with something like humor and something like grief - let someone else be Atlas for a day. The sky is too heavy right now. Punz’s arms tighten around his body, enough to remind him that they’re there but not enough to press at his still-healing ribs, and he thinks that they might understand. “Okay.”

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 2

AN: I’m splitting episode 3 into two chapters because so much happens.

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.

In this chapter: Despite your protests, Bucky seeks out Zemo (Based on S1 EP3)

(PART 1 HERE)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 5,196

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3, violence, strong language.

You watched Bucky as he sat beside you on the aircraft.

“Do you mind?” Bucky’s side eye didn’t make you look away.

“I’m just trying to see what’s going through that head of yours.” You confessed. You were all on your way to Germany to visit Zemo. It wasn’t a plan you were happy with but it was the plan.

“Don’t bother.” Bucky frowned, looking down at his hands on his lap. “And don’t ask me if I think this is a good idea again.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that.” You turned away from the man.

“What was it then?” Bucky asked.

“I was going to ask if you were sure you wanted to do this.” It was another question you had already asked 20 times or more but you couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of anxiety about this trip.

“She has a right to be worried, Buck. The last time you were alone with Zemo, you ended up putting (Y/n) through three windows.” Sam reminded you both of what happened the last time you were in Berlin.

“It won’t happen this time.” Bucky tried to reassure you both but you still felt uneasy.

After another hour or so Sam announced that you were almost there.

It was a short drive to the prison from the airport but once you were inside, you felt your chest begin to tighten again.

“He’s just through that corridor.” The German guard gestured up ahead and that’s when Bucky stopped you.

“Alright. Give us a sec.” Bucky instructed the security guard before turning to you and Sam. “I’m gonna go in alone.”

“Why?” Sam asked,

“You’re Avengers. You know how he feels about that.” Bucky said as he looked between the two of you.

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together.” Sam felt he needed to remind Bucky of the past again. However, Bucky stood his ground.

“He was obsessed with HYDRA. We have a history together. Trust me. I got it.”

“Buck...” You started,

“I got it.” He repeated himself before you could say anything else.

You watched Bucky head through the doors alone.

“Let’s wait outside. This place gives me the creeps.” Sam encouraged you to follow him to which you didn’t do without hesitation.

Sam brought you a hot drink as you sat on a bench outside.

“I forgot how worried he can make you.” Sam admitted as he sat down beside you.

“I’ve seen what he went through, Sam. All of it leading up to Zemo. I just... I don’t want it happening to him again.” You knew you couldn’t explain the extent of why you cared for Bucky.

“You love him.” Sam said. It wasn’t a question but rather a statement. “I can see it clear as day. Anyone could if they stuck around long enough.”

“Why are you bringing this up, Sam?” You sighed, looking away from him.

“Because it’s also obvious that he loves you too. You run around driving each other crazy with worry but you have none of the good stuff that comes with being in love with someone.”

“What do you know about love, Don Juan?” You chuckled as you tried to lighten the tone.

“I know it when I see it.” Sam smiled but there was a sadness behind his eyes.

“Things are complicated, Sam.” You muttered, “You already know that.”

“Well I also think that if Bucky got some he’d be a whole lot less angsty all the damn time.” You knew Sam only said it to make you laugh but you still gave him a whack for the comment.

“Shut up, Sam.” You shook your head, trying not to smile at the inappropriate comment.

Sam kept you entertained by a couple of silly games of rock, paper, scissors before Bucky returned.

“Come on, I got some information. We gotta go.” Bucky hurried you and Sam along.

“Just like that?” You were surprised that Zemo even spoke to Bucky at all.

“A location. I’ll explain everything once we get there.” Bucky wasn’t giving you much information and it was making you a little suspicious.

“Hey, hey, hey...” Sam ran after Bucky, stopping him. “You gotta give us a little more than that.”

“Zemo agreed to help us after hearing that there were more super soldiers. It was his life ambition to stop the winter soldier programme and he’s given us a lead.” Bucky explained.

“And you’re just gonna trust his word?” You probed.

“There’s not much else we can do.” Bucky did make a point.

It didn’t take long to reach the large warehouse/garage that Bucky wanted to go to.

Bucky on the way had started rambling about breaking Zemo out of jail in order to help you guys which sounded ridiculous to you.

“Tell me you’re joking, Buck.” You pleaded, unsure whether he had lost his mind entirely.

“He’s our best shot at finding who is making the serum and he’d be a lot more useful out than in.” Bucky opened the door to the building and you followed him inside.

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail? Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?” Sam was just as lost as you were as he shot questions at Bucky.

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing.” Bucky sighed as you made your way in with your flashlights.

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars.” Sam argued.

“We also have eight Super Soldiers that are loose.” Bucky retorted.

“Anyway, I thought this was a lead?” You tried to look around but the place was badly lit. There were mainly mechanic tools and lots of storage scattered around.

“It’s complicated.” Bucky frowned.

“What’s complicated is Zemo. He’s gonna mess with our minds. Especially yours. No offence.” Sam shone his flashlight at Bucky as he spoke.

“Offence.” Bucky didn’t look impressed as he found the light switch. “Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy, but he still has a code.”

“I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you. He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question. They didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.” Sam stepped closer to Bucky. You couldn’t deny that Sam had a point. Zemo was the one who tore the avengers apart by framing Bucky. “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are.” Bucky couldn’t give up. “Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I?”

“What did you do?” Sam narrowed his eyes at Bucky.

You were busy looking inside the car that was revealed by the lights coming on.

“I didn’t do anything.” Bucky shook his head before he continued with his ‘hypothetical’.

“The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.”

“So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment? Who knows?” Sam questioned.

“There could be many reasons…” Bucky shrugged. “But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated, and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two.

At this point, you stopped looking around and looked over at Bucky with your arms across your chest. You weren’t liking how thought out this plan was sounding.

“And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated someone could use the chaos to their advantage.” Bucky continued.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural. Are you… And where are we, man?” Sam gestured around the place with confusion locked on his face.

“Bucky, I’m with Sam on this one. I’ve got a bad feeling and–––” A door opening behind you cut you short.

You turned around to see Zemo walk through the plastic door curtains.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Sam jumped forward instructively. Bucky managed to stop him but he didn't stop you.

You rushed towards Zemo and held the tip of one of your knives to his Adams apple as he held his hands up.

“What are you doing here?” Sam shouted at Zemo before snapping back to Bucky.

“I didn’t tell ’cause I knew you wouldn’t let this happen.” Bucky admitted.

“What did you do?” Sam pointed at Zemo in shock.

“We need him.” Bucky stated to which you chuckled harshly, pressing your knife a little harder.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam called over.

“If I may..? “ Zemo tried to speak but you all shut him up with a unanimous ‘No.’

“Apologies.” Zemo mumbled.

“(Y/n), put the knife down.” Bucky came towards you and wrapped his hand round your wrist. “Please?”

You did. Slowly.

“Look, when Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you both backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me. I’m asking you to do it again.” Bucky looked back and forth from you to Sam.

“I really think I’m invaluable.” Zemo spoke again.

“Shut up.” You rose the knife again to which Zemo took a step back and pretended to zip his mouth shut.

“Okay.” Sam sighed after a moment of contemplation. “If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.”

“Fair.” Zemo nodded.

“Bucky... You understand what this means right? If they find out we took Zemo, specifically you. We’ll be on the run again and I don’t know if there will be a pardon this time either.” The concern in your eyes made Bucky frown.

“It’ll be alright. He's the only shot we got to stop these guys.” Bucky wasn’t sure if he believed his own words but he was praying that this was the best thing to do.

“Alright.” You turned to Zemo. “So where do we start?”

Zemo gestured for you to follow him before taking you into another dark room. You kept your knife in your hand just in case.

He reached for the light switch to reveal a mass of classic cars.

“So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam cocked his eyebrow at the impressive collection.

“These are mine. Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people… like the Avengers.” Zemo entered one of the cars and pulled out a bag. “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished. To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started.” Sam told the man.

“First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” Zemo took his bag and headed into another room.

“Jesus... How big is this place?” You looked around to see it was full of clothes.

“First I change and then we head to Selby.” Zemo placed the bag down before filing through one if the rails of clothes.

“How are we supposed to get anywhere with Zemo on our hands? We can’t exactly call Torres and ask for a ride but please ignore the fugitive that’s coming with us.” You looked between the boys.

“I will get us there.” Zemo told you.

“Great.” You pressed a fake smile onto your face which Zemo chose not to acknowledge.

Before you knew it you were at the airport at Zemo’s private jet.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam’s eyes went wide at the sight of the plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” Zemo spoke as if it was well known information. You felt a pang hit you in the chest, it happened every time you thought of Sokovia... it was guilt.

You watched Zemo greet an elderly man in a suit before you entered the jet.

You sat furtherest away from Zemo, still feeling very uncomfortable about him being free and under your custody.

You watched him sip on a glass of champagne like he had no worries in the world.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell. Oh. That’s right you do.” Zemo reminded you of the time Tony had locked a lot of the avengers up.

“Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?” Sam suggested.

“I’m sorry. I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Before you could blink, Bucky had lunged forward and taken Zemo by the neck.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Bucky kept hold of Zemo for a second longer before sitting back down. You had fought the urge to get up and take hold of his arm to calm him down.

"I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo made no attempt at a sincere apology for the invasion of privacy.

“Don’t push it.” Bucky warned him.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” Sam smiled as he thought back on the memory.

“I like ’40s music, so…” Bucky shrugged.

“You didn’t like it?” Sam seemed more shock to hear this than when he saw Zemo.

“I liked it.” Bucky proclaimed.

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.” Even Zemo had to get involved.

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.” Sam turned back to Bucky after giving side eye to Zemo.

“I like Marvin Gaye.” Bucky repeated.

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” Sam couldn’t drop it but you didn’t bother getting involved.

You looked at the book in Bucky’s hands. You knew Steve had given it to him before but seeing it again after all this time brought up a hundred thoughts. You remembered the many things you had told Steve to watch or eat or listen to like ABBA, Mochi ice cream and pranking him by suggesting the twilight movie as must see.

“You must have really looked up to Steve.” Zemo mentioning Steve made you look up again. “But I realised something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.”

“Watch your step, Zemo.” Sam warned him.

“They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right?” Zemo looked over at Bucky. “As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.”

“What’s up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it’s Skull Island.” Sam asked but you already knew of Madripoor. Anyone with links to the underworld of crime knew of Madripoor.

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” Bucky informed him.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” Zemo looked down at his duffel bag of clothes that you had watched him pack before.

“What do you mean by that?” You finally chimed into the conversation.

“James will have to retake the person of the Winter Soldier. You both will have a role to play also.” Zemo explained, turning to face you as you sat in the chair by the back wall of the jet.

“Bucky, can I speak to you privately?” You looked past Zemo to Bucky. Bucky gave you a look to ask where would you go so you stood and opened the cabin toilets door.

Bucky huffed before following you in.

“Bucky I’m not okay with this.” You whispered as you pressed yourself up against the wall so you could try and fit both you and Bucky a little more comfortably.

“This isn’t up to you.” Bucky sighed.

“Everything about this situation is making every nerve in my body scream this is a bad idea.” You folded your arms across your chest as you stared up at Bucky.

“How many times do I have to tell you that this is the only plan we got?”

“I don’t trust him.” You kept your voice low as you threw your hand up in the direction of the door.

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asked.

“I’m starting to question it.” You muttered.

Bucky just stared at you in response.

“Yes, I trust you.” You grumbled, caving in.

“Anyway I have you if things go bad.” Bucky tried to make light of the situation but you weren't impressed.

You left the bathroom and remained silent until you drew closer to Madripoor.

Upon your arrival in Madripoor, you were handed some clothes to change into.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You held up the small material dress that you were meant to wear.

“I had to choose a disguise that would cover your face. Too many people here would know you from your days before the avengers and after.” Zemo defended his choice of ‘costume’ for you.

“So I’m assassin barbie?” You scoffed before taking to the bathroom to change.

You slid on the black leather playsuit and boots, along with the mask that Zemo gave you.

You felt exposed and uncomfortable. You managed to hide a few knives in your boots and you slid on a thigh holster to hold some more to make you feel like you were protected at least.

“Loose the knives.” Zemo instructed.

“Are you serious?” You were growing more agitated by the minute with this man.

“You are playing an escort. You can’t have knives on show.” Zemo pointed to your holster.

You bit down on your cheek as you removed it.

“Fine.” You then left the plane to Sam and Bucky waiting outside. Bucky’s eyes went wide at the sight of you but he tried to hide it by clearing his throat and looking away.

“We have to fix this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” Sam was wearing a red patterned suit and chains. He didn’t look too bad in it either.

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Zemo handed Sam his phone revealing a picture of Conrad Mack.

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me, though.” Sam took the phone and looked down at the picture.

“(Y/n) is playing your partner for the night. Conrad is known for his appreciation for the finer things in life and often has a woman on his arm Therefore, (Y/n), you must be attached to Sam’s hip the entire night.” Zemo filled you all in on the reason behind your disguise.

“Excuse me, what?” Bucky almost choked at the idea of you having to be Sam’s woman for the night.

“Well it is the only disguise that makes sense. She can’t be your girlfriend as you are the Winter Soldier. She can’t be mine as everyone knows I am loyal to my wife. She has to be the smiling tigers current whore.”

“Watch your mouth.” Bucky hissed.

“We all must play a part.” Zemo defended his choice of words. “You smell this?”

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” Zemo gestured across the city as a car approached you all.

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” You sighed as Zemo opened the car door for you.

“Not if we want the answers we are looking for.” Zemo climbed into the car after you and then the boys followed.

It didn't take too long to find the way to low town. You had been to Madripoor before but it had been years ago.

You did as you were ordered when you all exited Zemo’s car. You stuck by Sam, walking in the middle of Sam and Bucky.

The air wasn’t cold but it felt thick, you could feel it sticking to your bare skin which gave you the desperate urge to take a long shower.

“Here we are.” Zemo had brought you to a bar. It was busy and filled with a lot of men.

“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” You heard Zemo ask Bucky in Russian.

You heard whispers around you questioning if Bucky was who everyone thought he was. It made your gut clench with nerves but you didn’t let it show.

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender greeted Sam and Zemo but barely brushed a glance over you.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo spoke for Sam. You then felt Sam wrap his arm around your waist. You leaned into him, batting your eyelashes first at Sam and then the bartender.

“The usual?” The bartender asked Sam. He nodded, afraid that if he spoke then it would give away the facade.

You were thankful you were wearing a face mask when you saw the drink made for the Smiling Tiger. You grimaced at the dead snake being cut open and then again when one of its organs was dropped into Sam’s shot.

“Ah, Smiling Tiger. Your favourite.” Zemo picked up his own drink as he looked down at Sam’s.

“I love these.” Sam forced himself to speak.

“Cheers, Conrad.” Zemo and Sam touched glasses before Sam hesitantly shot back the drink. You could tell Bucky enjoyed watching that.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.” A man suddenly approached from behind and tapped Zemo on the shoulder. You felt Sam’s grip on you tighten protectively.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me...” Zemo held his hand out to show his new bodyguard.

“New haircut?” The stranger looked Bucky up and down.

“Or bring Selby for a chat.” Zemo gave him the other option. The man retreated.

“A power broker? Really?” Bucky spoke once the stranger had left.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam asked.

“Only by reputation.” Zemo admitted honestly.

“In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner. You can’t visit low town without appearing on his radar.” You spoke up as you let yourself look around the room and take in just how many threats were around.

“And you know this why?” Sam looked down at you. He must've forgotten your past.

“I was a free agent before the Avengers. I've been here undercover a few times especially when I was a young teenager. Surprise Surprise evil guys like little girls.” You kept quiet in case anyone around was listening.

Zemo suddenly spoke a command for Bucky in Russian once again and that’s when another stranger put his hands on Zemo.

You watched Bucky follow orders and he didn’t hold back.

He grabbed hold of the strangers wrist and pulled him off Zemo before attacking him and several others around.

You took notice of those around with their phones out. Cameras...

You went to step forward when you felt Sam squeeze your side. He gave you a look that told you no.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo muttered to you and Sam. You wanted to punch him.

Bucky slammed another man onto the bar and that’s when you heard the wave of guns cocking.

Sam took hold of Bucky’s arm when Zemo told him to stay in character.

Instead Zemo told Bucky to stand down once you were informed you could see Selby.

Sam took hold of you hand and dragged you along side him as you all left the bar.

“She isn’t welcome.” One of the guards stopped you before you could enter the room.

“Excuse me?” Sam scoffed at the guard. “She’s with me and so she is welcome.”

“Let her in!” You heard an English accent call from ahead.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby was an older woman with a white pixie cut and a sly grin. Sam remained stood and so did Bucky but Sam had commanded you to take a seat next to Zemo.

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo was impressing you by how cool he was playing this. It also worried you.

“A lot has changed since you were here last. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?“ Selby asked.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we? I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby ignored Zemo as she eyed up Sam.” What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”Zemo had risen from his seat and held Bucky by the chin.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank...Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn’t go as planned.” Selby fed you what she knew.

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo questioned.

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” Selby pushed herself from her seat and walked across the room.

That’s when Sam’s mobile went off.

“Answer it. On speaker.” Selby ordered. The gun behind Sam made him pull out his phone.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” A woman’s voice came through.

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam tried his best to keep up his persona.

“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.” The woman’s attitude was not helping Sam’s case.

“What situation, Sarah? Say it.” Sam demanded.

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank.” Sarah snapped back.

“The bank. Yeah. Laundered so much...” Sam chuckled. “Yeah, they’ll come around.”

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed.” Sam tried to seem intimidating but at that moment you knew you were screwed. You reached down into your boot to take a knife just in case.

“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll call you back.” Sarah had used Sam’s name and that was the end of it.

“Sam? Who’s Sam?” Selby looked pissed. “Kill them!” She ordered but before her hired men could react, a bullet came through the window and shot Selby down.

You snatched two knives from your boot and sent them into the guard behind Sam.

Bucky immediately reacted with taking out the other guard.

“They’re gonna pin this on us.” You took the knives from the body as the boys took the guns.

“We have a real problem now, so leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Zemo’s order made the boys put their guns down but you just wiped your knives and placed them back in your boot.

You left the club in a hurry. Text chimes went off around you and you knew the power broker had seen what happened.

You were well and truly fucked.

“This is not good.” Zemo’s last words before the shooting started.

You took off alongside Bucky and Sam, cursing the fact that Zemo had put you in the most uncomfortable shoes on the planet.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam shouted which almost made you laugh.

“Down here!” You took a turn into an alley to get off the road as two mopeds appeared behind you.

Before you could spin around to fight, a shooter had taken them out.

“You seem to have a guardian angel.” Zemo looked just. as confused you felt. You weren’t aware you knew anyone who was in Madripoor at the moment.

“Well, this is too perfect. Drop it, Zemo.” A familiar face soon revealed itself from the shadows.

“Sharon?” Sam furrowed his brow at the woman.

“You cost me everything.” Sharon ignore Sam as she spoke to Zemo.

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Sam stepped ahead of Zemo to protest him.

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.”Sharon glowered at the four of you.

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked the question on everyones mind.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save him from him. I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.” Sharon informed you.

“Don’t blow smoke. Both (Y/n) and I were on the run, too.” Sam didn't bother with feeling pity.

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.” Sharon shot back.

“Listen, Sharon, we need your help.” Bucky interrupted her before she could say anything else.

“Please.” You added. You and Sharon were friendly for a time before the world went to hell. You figured she’d help you at least.

“This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while.” Sharon sighed, giving in and lowering her gun.

“Thank you.” You pressed a small smile onto your face but Sharon didn’t reciprocate.

She managed to get you to a car safely and you headed out of low town for the night.

(PART 3 HERE)

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