#good job man you were written to break the system and you did it

[chasing-after-the-abyss]

Sometimes y'just gotta… what even happened here.

[fandoms-in-law]

Different Lives

Summary: Prince Steve is being forced to go to camp by the king in an attempt to make him learn his duties. Eddie has been talked into going to camp by his band. What happens when their camp places are reversed.

Authors Note: I think this is the longest fic I've written in one day for a while. My brain is tired and you're lucky I didn't just write out conversations with no tags or indications over who was speaking cause that's how todays started off being. I could've left the camp leaders the same as in the film, yes, but Jason being trapped in the same way clive was in the film was just too funny to miss

/\/\

Steve had always expected that going to summer camp would be fun. In all the films and stories it was a reward or adventure for the kids, a good thing in the views of all children. As his mother explained going to Camp Royalty it definitely didn't sound like a good thing.“We just think this will be good for you Steve.”

“Don't coddle the boy, Alison. This camp will give you the skills to take to work and you will have to impress the people you work under because I'm not helping you more than that. This is your last chance to prove you are worthy of your title.” King Richard of course made it sound even worse than his mother had done and the only reason Steve wasn't arguing over going more was that he hoped being away from his parents he could actually make it enjoyable.

“Yes Mother and Father. I understand. I'm not going to disgrace the kingdom at summer camp.” The promise was one he'd recited a hundred times at least, practically every time he went anywhere he had to reassure them and usually still managed to fail in some way that never got explained.

“You better not.”

/\/\

It was kind of amusing to watch Gareth try to find an argument that would work. In all honesty that was the main reason Eddie wasn't already agreeing to going to Camp Rock.

“Eddie, we need a break man. Let's just try this Camp Rock and see what it's like, make friends with some new musicians.” Gareth complained. It was definitely the truth, even Eddie was feeling worn down and as if they needed more friends into music than the four of them.

Still he pointed at the calendar, and the other reason he wasn't accepting the idea immediately. Every time they changed plans and had to reschedule anything they pushed that onto him, claiming it was the front man's job to do, rather than one of theirs, or even Seymore's as their agent. “We've already booked tour dates for that week. Do you want to be in charge of rescheduling it all?!

Jeff snatched the calendar from his hands and replaced it with multiple envelopes that were clearly fan mail from the doodles on some of them. “I'll do it. Hell I bet some of our fans would thank us. There've been a few fan letters that ask if we're okay or mention how stressed our recent albums have seen.”

“Fine, fine. Guess I'm overruled. Just book the camp tickets. I'll be there.” The pout and crossed arms was easy to do, and Eddie hoped enough to get him some more leeway in what he took part in at camp.

/\/\

Steve could manage this. In fact it was better than anything he'd hoped would happen because at Camp Rock there was no Princess Nancy or her brother ready to let their parents and by connection his own anything he did that she didn't agree with. As soon as Barb offered to let him stay instead of fighting for a transfer unless Camp Royalty requested it he jumped at the choice but now he had to find a place with the Camp Rock kids and the two ladies entering the room he'd been directed to stay in.

“They're allowing mixed gender rooming now? Who are you? And why are you dressed so... so like a prat?” The first woman was immediately in his face, looking him up and down and clearly judging him.

“I'm Steve, a prince apparently caught in a system mix up which swapped my camp around.” It definitely wasn't the time to bow, or kiss her hand, but he hold his hand out to shake as he introduced himself.

While his hand was taken it was used to spin him around and carry on watching his expression. “You know what the normal people in your kingdom live like?” she asked.

“Planning to find out after camp. The King has dictated that I get a job and I'm going to do everything I can to ensure it's not one he decides. But before we carry on talking might I know the names of the lovely ladies I'm addressing?” The explanation was probably too much to share, but it at least seemed to pass whatever judgement had been directed at him

“I'm Robin, Vickie is the one still hovering in the doorway. Do you know when you have to go and save some tragic princess? Also why can't the princess be the one to save you?” Laughing at the questions was easy. Steve had heard that a lot of working people, even up to the Lords and Ladies that sometimes visited believed the fairytales were actually true.

Now he shallowly bowed, marking Robin his equal if she knew anything about bowing etiquette. “Delighted to make your acquaintance. Also, those are myths and I think the media prefer to twist any story so the man is the hero. It's annoying. Princess Nancy is far more likely to save someone than I or the commoner she's recently made the acquaintance of.” The formalities felt stilted but necessary, especially given how unusual and uncomfortable he was to realise he was indeed staying in the same room as these girls. It was a situation he'd always been warned against allowing to happen.

“Dingus, we're going to have to get those manners dropped and quick. Come gossip. Vickie, get over here and join in.” Robin used the hand she'd never dropped to drag him over to one of the beds, hand waving rapidly to beckon Vickie over.

/\/\

So far Eddie thought Lady Chrissy was pretty cool but Jason was definitely a social climbing creep to some degree. He also wondered if he could convince Gareth to book there next trip to camp to be for Camp Royalty to deliberately cause chaos here. The other campers his age had all turned away from him or iced him out of their conversations when they weren't acting too good to look where they're going and frankly Eddie would be calling them out on it if he wasn't definitely outnumbered.

Now there was another possible issue considering the room he'd been directed two had quite definitely got two children already settled as if it was their own room. Eddie might not have been to camp before but he was pretty sure they usually separated the kids and teens by age range.

“Are you sure Will is going to DM for us when we get back? Nancy only just introduced you two.” At least that sounded like the kids didn't think they were above having some normal fun.

The second kid rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, “Lucas, the Byers have been close advisors to our family for generations. They're one of our connections to our people. If Will has said he'll DM and help teach us DnD then he will.”

“Or I could. You know, when Jason told me I could stay here, I wasn't expecting to be rooming with children.” Eddie offered, alerting the pair to his presence and shaking his head at their momentary frowns over his different style to everyone else in the camp. At least they were quickly replaced by curiosity from the second kid and a serious nod from the first, seemingly called Lucas.

Lucas was the one to reply also, “It's a ridiculous supervision thing they brought in last year. Apparently if a King requests that their child learns more responsibility while at camp they're asked to supervise some of the younger campers. You however do not seem royal.”

He couldn't resist looking down at himself and circling as if to find out where the suit all the other men were wearing was before grinning, “Because I'm not. There's been a system mix-up with Camp Rock. I'm Eddie, and you are?”

“Prince Lucas and this is Prince Michael. I assume you have headphones even if you weren't informed that whichever prince you've swapped places with was acting as a kid supervisor.” Lucas countered, and Eddie definitely understood that it was as much from an assumption that Eddie would want to play his music as well as that they wouldn't be changing anything on how they behaved at camp for him.

Michael however was staring at him with the unmistakable gaze of a fan and darted to his bedside table to grab a magazine with Corroded Coffin on the cover. “You're Eddie Munson! Will you sign my magazine? Can you teach me how to play guitar? Have you ever smashed a guitar on stage? I saw it in a movie once and it looked like so much fun. Call me Mike”

“Was going to say yes, but if you're wanting to try smashing a guitar lets stick with no. Nobody gets to hurt my sweetheart.” Eddie was very quick to pick his guitar case back up and move away from Mike, smile definitely forced as he refused the request.

/\/\

“Oi! Princey! Where the hell is Eddie?” The call made Steve pause and turn from where he'd been following Robin to the dance class. Vickie was meeting them there after stopping in wardrobe for a bit.

He knew it was him being called to but had to frown at the question, trying to remember if he'd met an Eddie yet. “Who's Eddie? I'm not sure I've met an-”

The man who'd yelled was already coming closer, followed by two other guys. “The guy who is actually meant to be at this camp. Why'd you swap places with him?”

“The guy from the dock?” He guessed, remembering the person who'd bumped into him definitely had a style similar to the group he was talking to, “I think that might have been the name the doorman for Camp Royalty was calling when I was trying to get on the right ship to come to camp.”

One of the other men looked sceptical, looking Steve up and down as if he'd be able to spot a lie. “You mean you had nothing to do with this and are just as confused over why your here as Eddie definitely has over being there?”

“Guess so. I'm Steve, who are you three?” He shrugged, then held his hand out to shake, this time having it properly shook. At least Robin's reaction was a thing only she seemed to do.

“Jeff, Gareth and Grant, three quarters of Corroded Coffin since apparently our singer and lead guitar is at the wrong camp.” Jeff gestured to who he was introducing and stepped back so Gareth and grant could also shake his hand.

Since they still didn't seem entirely happy, Steve soon stepped back again, “I feel like you want me to apologise for a mistake the camps made.”

“Ah – Um, you have a point there. We're just a bit annoyed since this was meant to be a trip for us all to relax.” Gareth seemed to want to protest before nodding at his point.

A cough coming from behind him made Steve glance over his shoulder to see Robin waiting for him to follow her again. “Okay, well... Robin and Vicky have convinced me to tag along to some of the activities so I'll probably see you later?”

“Later Princey” Gareth called, turning to wherever they'd been going before again.

/\/\

Eddie had struggled to believe the unicorns were really. He'd doubted half of the things included as activities could actually be necessary for royalty to learn, but this, seeing sceptre training actually including magic was what finally made him comment on it to the kids he was basically trailing around camp. “The sceptre thing isn't just a legend? That could make for some awesome stage effects.”

“Exactly! Erica has been trying to argue that her friends should get them too but for some reason the world's countries agreed to keep this magic hoarded for the royal families.” Lucas nodded rapidly. Mike had wandered over to one of the older kids when she waved and was yet to return. Lucas didn't seem concerned by it and so far every interaction Eddie had had with the teens closer to his age had been negative at best.

“Can I try yours?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

“No you can't. The way you've latched onto the kids you're meant to supervise is unnerving some of us. What are you doing here still?” And there was Mike back again, just behind the princess pushing Eddie's hand down as if he'd have taken it from Lucas without permission.

Eddie met her gaze directly, gesturing around them. “Waiting for Lady Chrissy to get Camp Rock to transfer me mostly. Who are you and why get angry when you and all the other royals our age have scorned me to the point these two are the only half decent people here?”

“Princess Nancy. We weren't scorning you.” She seemed so certain of her words that Eddie could hold his scoff back.

Lucas looked like he would have scoffed too if he hadn't been trained differently already. “You really were, Princess Nancy. Everyone has been scowling at him, and scoffing anytime he shows his passions for music and storytelling. You keep lecturing Mike and I about not judging those who aren't in the royal life but have been doing just that ever since Eddie ended up at our camp. Are we only meant to accept the Princess Wheeler approved commoners?” He stated, clearly referring to connections that Eddie only had vague ideas about based on things Mike and Lucas had already said around him.

“Lucas, that's not true. I'm just trying to look out for you.” Nancy's tone suddenly gentled but her actions were still speaking more than loudly enough for Eddie and Lucas

“Then you should have spent time with us, with Eddie over the last 2 days, not just glared before coming over with accusations.” Lucas stated, before handing Eddie his sceptre. “This is how we do the rainbow display.” He began instructing, clearly ending the conversation with Nancy by turning his back to her.

/\/\

Eddie had tried. He had tried to get involved and join in, especially since the competition had been announced and Lady Chrissy had seemed so delighted by his singing during one of their small conversations about failing to transfer him to the correct camp. The issue was it seemed that none of the royals involved in the acapella choir was prepared to actually accept that he knew how to sing.

Eddie hadn't meant to storm away and he was sure that once he calmed down he'd go right back to keeping an eye on the last half decent royals present But for now he was walking and smiling at how much he could relate to the song he could hear.

“That's a great song.” The words left him without thinking, and it was only when the song broke of that he realised the singer was someone walking around the lake similar to himself.

“Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone to be out here.” The singer said, one hand coming up to adjust his hair.

Eddie nodded, understanding exactly what he meant, “I know what that's like. Getting so lost in music is wonderful, especially when you're upset. Why do I recognise you?”

“Are you the man from the dock? Just before I was called for the wrong boat?” He asked in reply, squinting a little as if that would help his memory.

“And I got on the wrong boat cause Jason was yelling my name. I'm Eddie.” The agreement came easily, now smiling and holding his hand out.

It was taken and shook easily. “I'm Steve, and yeah, your band told me. Gareth apparently thought you swapped with me as a prank until I explained the mix-up.”

“Bet he wasn't the nicest before getting told that. He's only confrontational when annoyed or worried and my disappearance probably had him feeling both.” He laughed, already having imagined their reactions since he realised a prince must have ended up at Camp Rock.

Steve smiled back easily, “It wasn't so bad and we got it cleared up fairly quickly. Why are you out here?”

“A Princess Nancy has decided I'm, I don't know, grooming her brother or something. Did you know your parents had you set to be supervision for a couple of camp kids?” Eddie stated, smirking a little when Steve clearly recognised the name.

The reply confirmed that connection, with a small roll of his eyes. “No, but I can believe that. Was it Dustin or Lucas rooming with Michael? I never got told if all three were allowed to go this year.”

“Lucas. They're pretty great kids, especially with how hostile the rest of them are.” Eddie couldn't help but grin. Looking after the pair was reminding him of his days before quitting school to focus on his band when he'd try to look out for younger kids who didn't fit in.

“Royals don't much like change. It's scary if something disturbs their views of superiority over the people they rule.” Steve offered a commiserating smile.

“That explains why I'm sending them insane then.” Eddie's replying grin was full of mischief. He thought that going back to camp knowing there was at least one prince he could get along with would make getting the rest to question their views more worthwhile.

/\/\

“Metal is what we're best at.” The argument didn't seem to have a point to Steve but Grant was repeating the comment for the third time since a few of them had mentioned feeling unhappy with their song choice.

Robin was shaking her head, pulling out a board and starting to right pros and cons columns out. “It's a niche. The royals aren't going to go for it and we need the song to be liked if we're going to win.”

“Steve literally just said it was a good song.” Gareth pointed out as if that would convince her to let them stick with the Corroded Coffin song

Vickie immediately stepped up to back Robin's argument for changing songs saying, “And you started this practise claiming his songwriting was metal even if the song itself wasn't in that style. Why can't we sing one of his?”

“Robin, we're the ones who know how to rock a concert or have you forgotten how big our band actually is?” Gareth stated, gesturing between the three band members.

“Yet you're learning along with the rest of us.” Vickie stated.

Robin quickly added onto that with, “Experience does not mean you know this camp or Camp Royalty's tastes to win the competition and I'm not throwing it just because you want to play a metal song that's not even a camp original.”

“Steve, do you want us to use one of your songs for the competition?” Jeff finally sighed, looking over to him and making him blink at apparently being given the power to choose what they played.

“If you think it could help you win then sure?” He replied, uncertain if this was some sort of test, “Which one though? I've not had the chance to play much of them before.”

“Which makes it even more impressive how metal they are. The one from this morning was pretty great actually.”

“Everyone okay with that being our song choice?” Vickie asked, looking around the room.

“Agreed.” was chorused back to her.

/\/\

Eddie had actually been getting into the song. It was fun even if he'd had to fight to get them to change and only managed with with Lady Chrissy's intervention. If they wanted to win the competition then he'd do his best to help.

Unfortunately that didn't seem to be how any of the rest of the choir was taking it, proven by Nancy coming over to him when they took a short break. “Mike and Lucas aren't here, you can stop showing off now.”

“Two things: 1st Lady Chrissy literally asked us to highlight my voice in our entry.” He began, getting a goblet of water that he'd insisted be provided if they were to practise outside for hours. “2nd It's not showing off, it's showmanship which is necessary when performing. You're the one desperate to win but if you want me to just mimic you, then I shall.”

Princess Nancy scowled, folding her arms and visibly settling in for what she wanted to be a one sided argument. Eddie copied the gesture and waited for her to speak.“That's entirely not what I meant.”

“That's entirely not what I meant.” He recited the words back in the most dead inside voice he could achieve.

“I'm just saying we work as an ensemble, don't you know how to work with other people.” She scowled, a finger coming up to gesture before she caught herself.

“I'm just saying we work as an ensemble, don't you know how to work with other people.” He intoned, maintaining near perfect stillness, even as he watched Lucas and Mike come over to them.

Mike was already snickering when he asked, “Why is Eddie coping everything you say?”

“Just what have you been lecturing him about this time?” Lucas was quick to correct the question, knowing it would be a reaction to something.

Eddie relaxed into his normal posture again. “Oh just that I've been showing off and taking over. Maybe she'd be happier if I just got out of here.” As he said the words he suddenly thought that was a great idea.

“Eddie? You're joking about that, right? Eddie?” Mike sounded uncertain, gaze following as Eddie just grinned, turning and walking away, ignoring the attempt to call after him.

He was just close enough to hear when Lucas replied, “I don't think he was joking about it.”

/\/\

For saying this was Camp Royalty and should definitely have some decent security, Eddie found none as he headed into Lady Chrissy's office and dialled the number for the bands agent, impatiently listening to it ring. “Come on, Seymore, pick up.”

“Hey, Metal is here to stay, but I am out! Leave a message-” Getting the voicemail recording was soon overshadowed by hearing Jason coming through, talking aloud to himself.

“Camp Royalty has got this in the bag! Poor Barbara Holland, what are you going to do when you have to close your camp and leave? Don't care! Why Lady Christine, of course I'm not the most intelligent man in the world, top 5% maybe.” Jason singing love songs to himself as he left the office was an image that would stick with him. Now Eddie wasn't one to judge anyone's music taste, but he would judge the type of simping that Jason seemed to do every time Lady Chrissy did anything.

/\/\

“You two up to invade Camp Rock and snatch Prince Steve to plan to save both camps?” Eddie announced as soon as he was back in his room, getting a visibly fretting Lucas and Mike spinning to stare and run over to him as if checking he was actually there.

Mike's expression twisted with distaste a moment later, at a guess when everything Eddie had said registered, “Steve was meant to be our supervision? I am so glad this mix up happened. Hang on, what's going on with the camps?”

“Prince Steve is nice. Just because Nancy was just as judgemental towards him as she's been to Eddie this week doesn't mean you need to complain about him for all eternity. Focusing on the issue though, we'll help.” Lucas shook his head, admonishing his friend slightly before refocusing, “What's going on?”

“I didn't hear all the details but there's some kind of bet which means whoever loses this competition has to close down.” Eddie gave the shortest explanation he could, already sure he'd be repeating it all night and trying to herd his sheep out of the door.

Thankfully they easily went, only glancing at him to know the way to walk, “Let's go then.”

/\/\

“Eddie, Twerps, What's going on?” Steve barely glanced at the kids before focusing on Eddie, concerned.

Once again Eddie decided to avoid giving a full explanation to them, his mind still trying to plot the evening the way he would a D&D game, “Nothing good. You said the rest of Corroded Coffin is in Camp Rocks band? Can you take me to them so we explain this just once.”

“Sure. We've got a rehearsal soon anyway.” Steve nodded behind him, only smirking as the kids and Eddie dodged behind and around things to try and stay hidden as they followed him.

/\/\

“Eddie Munson!” Everyone waiting in their practise room gasped, hands going to their faces to enhance the drama of the moment.

Steve looked them all over unimpressed before saying, “Why are you acting surprised? Gareth, Jeff and Grant have all been practising with us from the start. Wait, why are you three acting surprised too?”

“Felt like it. What's going on that you only sneak into the right camp now?” Gareth shrugged, straightening and looking Eddie's expression over as if it would tell him everything about what was happening.

/\/\

All of them were exhausted. They'd rehearsed late into the night, straight after about a million arguments because Princess Nancy and the other royals weren't ready to just trust, in their words, a washed up wannabe rockstar and a couple of kids barely trained in the royal life.

And then to perform with as much energy and in the moment adaptions as the merging of their two groups took left Eddie impressed they were all still standing at the end of their performance. It really made the show unpredictable and difficult to be unable to perform all together even once before the actual show.

He was only just following the argument going on between Lady Chrissy and Barbara Holland, and really wished he could believe it wasn't a scheme entirely motivated by Lady Chrissy wanting to shut down Camp Rock.

Steve nudged his arm as he twisted his sceptre to point at the floor under the feet of their camp leaders, making Eddie realise they'd stopped atop one of the platforms. He hoped Steve had also included something to prevent them from just walking out of that area and back onto the stage to carry their argument on. “Bold move.”

“Honestly, I can cope with the music but their arguing would give me a migraine.” Steve muttered back, frowning at Jason's appearance on stage.

“I'm pretty good at head massages if that'll help.” Eddie offered quietly, leaning into his space and finally letting himself flirt a little. Here on the stage, with Mike and Lucas in the audience and his band all around him he finally felt safe enough to do so, even if the royals that were only just beginning to accept he wasn't horrible could be watching.

Steve wrapped an arm around his waist, whispering, “I bet we could both do with a few massages after this is all over. Want to visit my kingdom before you get back to your tour?”

“I think I can schedule that in.” He agreed, turning at the collective noise of disappointment to see Jason now gloating on the stage. “But I guess we didn't manage to save the camps even with you shutting Chrissy away.”

With a sigh, Steve pointed his sceptre back at the area Barbara and Chrissy were shut in so he definitely had ensured they'd remain there.

Nobody was expecting the pair to be cuddling, pecking at each others lips as they were raised back to stage height.

“I'd say that might be hope for us yet.” Steve smiled, distracting himself and Eddie by pulling the other into a kiss a little deeper than the ones their camp leaders had been sharing.

The distraction was broken once again, this time by Jason screaming “I BRIBED A JUDGE FOR YOU!”

There were at least 3 glows of sceptres being activated in the vague direction of Jason, enough that Eddie doubted he'd manage to escape the stage platforms for at least a day without help.

[prettyblondguys]

Part 2

Dmitri x plus size f!reader

Warnings: None for this chapter I think, don't you dare ask me to proofread

Sunday Bingo Night was, thankfully, Russian Man free. As a matter of fact, the rest of your week had been as well, leaving you to put all of your focus (and anxieties) into your work at the local library. It wasn't a stressful job per say, not when compared to other fast paced environments, and the hours and pay were decent, but still you had the habit of working yourself up over the smallest things. Case in point, you were currently sitting behind the circulation desk with a notepad trying to figure out everything that still needed to be done for the upcoming Friends of the Library Event, a relatively small gathering that was held each year to drum up more funds, and the second it had been assigned to you to take care of, you'd felt that all too familiar dread of 'what if I mess up?' wash over you. It wasn't as if you didn't know what to do, you'd worked here for years now and you worked hard, sometimes spending extra hours just to get more work done, opting to finish filings or sortings sooner rather than the next day, and going out of your way to think of and make fun displays to draw more of the community in. And your hard work hadn't gone unnoticed either, after just 3 years you'd been promoted to co-head librarian, head librarian being your 64 year old coworker, Delores.

No, you knew what you were doing, you just often did more than needed to be done.

"I know we've decided on tea sandwiches," you say to Delores as she flips through some papers, letting out a sigh when you bring up the event again, "but what if people want a second option? Like, what if they get sick of the sandwiches? It's 2 hours, maybe we should have something else as well?" Delores fixes you with a withering look over the rim of her glasses, lips pursed in thinly veiled aggravation, "Like what?" You scramble for an idea, you were sure she'd shoot you down without even considering it. "Umm, how about chips and dip?"

"Too messy."

"Devilled Eggs,"

"Too smelly." Fair.

"We could have fruit!"

"What kind of fruit?"

"Um, how about..grapes..?"

"You want to serve tea sandwiches and grapes?" She looks at you like you'd just asked what the Dewey decimal system is. "I, uh, I guess we should just...stick to the sandwiches." Delores goes back to flipping through her papers and you dejectedly return to your notepad, scratching out where you had written 'second food option'. There's still a lot that needs to be done in five days; the rest of the recently donated books needed to be checked for marks and put in neat boxes, you needed to make sure you had enough name tags and markers, and not to mention blank labels. You had come up with a fun way for the patrons to interact with the library they help fund, by letting them go through the donated books and label them, sort of playing librarian for the day. Even Delores had thought it was a good idea. You hum to yourself, fingers tapping against the paper,

"How about a second drink option?"

¤

"Dom, dom, dom, dom, dom, dom, be, dooby, dom. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoaaaa," you quietly sing through a mouth full of tomato and sliced turkey, head bobbing as The Beach Boys' Come Go With Me plays through your headphones. You had walked five minutes away to spend your lunch break at the park that overlooked the beach, sitting on the picnic table and decompressing from your coworker's passive-aggressiveness. And decompressing here was easy, with the sun warming your face and the smell of the ocean filling your lungs, and the sweet, sweet sound of The Beach Boys crooning in your ears. Tea sandwiches be damned, this was peaceful.

"So come and go with me, whoa whoa whoa whoaa-" oh no. Walking away from the beach and towards you was Dmitri, a plain white shirt draping over his body like liquid. Ok, maybe that was a bit much, but he looked delectable. You consider getting up and walking back to the library, cutting your break short halfway through, but that would be too obvious. Maybe he hasn't seen me. Maybe he'll walk by and not even notice me. Maybe you should stop shoving your sub down your throat.

His eyes land on you as he gets closer, the side of his mouth turning up in a soft smile. "Y/n," he greets you after you slip your headphones around your neck, stopping to stand near where you sit, "fancy seeing you here." You inwardly cringe as he repeats your words from the grocery store just days earlier.

"I wahurc neher behi," you say through yet another mouthful of sub, holding your hand up for him to wait when he gives you a confused look. You swallow and continue, "I work nearby. I'm on my lunch break." He nods, moving to sit on the bench next to where your feet are, giving you the high ground, "It's nice here," he looks out towards the water as he speaks, elbows resting on his knees, "you can see the ocean whenever you please." I'm just gonna ignore how hearing you say 'please' just made me feel. "Have you gone in yet?" You ask, taking small nibbles of your sub.

"Not yet," he replies, "I haven't had the opportunity." Pal, it's California, the whole state is an opportunity to get in the ocean. "You said you work nearby?" He changes the subject, turning his head to look at you as you're mid-bite. It'd be weird to offer him some. Do NOT offer him some. You slowly hold the sub out to him, which he politely declines. "I work at the library down the street, the one with the flamingo statue out front." You love that flamingo statue, you'd named him Jacques. "What about you? What do you do?" Ok, why does he suddenly look like I just asked why his basement is locked? "I am.." he seems to be trying to think of the words, "in between jobs, at the moment." You nod and continue eating, a silence filling the space between you two as you stare out at the water. You slyly eye him in profile, taking the moment to actually look at him. You hadn't been exaggerating when you said he was hot, but now you notice just how pretty he actually is, all of the little details you'd overlooked the previous times you'd met. You had noticed how full his lips were, but not how pink, how mysterious his eyes were, but not how soft his gaze was, and certainly not the little specks of silver in his hair and trimmed mustache. God, he's like, seriously beautiful.

He catches you staring before you have time to look away, eyes boring into yours as you feel your cheeks start to burn, "Sorry," you mumble with a laugh, fiddling with the sandwich wrapper, "I was, um…" he smiles as you fumble for an explanation. "No, no there's no way to spin that, is there?" Good naturedly shaking his head, he stands up and faces you. "Perhaps I will stop by the library sometime, if that would be alright?" Did I fall asleep? Have I been dreaming this whole time? Did Delores finally snap and murder me for my incessant perfectionism and now I'm in heaven? "If not," he continues when you don't reply, "that is fine, I understand." NO! "No! That's not it," please don't screw this up for yourself, "I was just…"

"Staring." He says it matter of factly, kinda smug about it, too. Huh, add that to my growing list of turn ons. "Yeah," you admit defeatedly, "that I was." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out one of those little pencils that were always on side tables in motels, are they called golf pencils? and a folded up scrap of paper. He tears off a section and hands it and the pencil to you, which you take with a heavy look of confusion. "Cool...thank..thank you.." Is this like...penguins gifting rocks? Is it a Russian thing? Is this a dowry? He chuckles before crossing his arms over his chest, fixing you with those piercing blue eyes, "How am I supposed to call and ask you on a date if I do not have your number?" Oh. "Oh."

Sylvia is not gonna believe this.

Authors Note: I'm sorry the chapters aren't very long but I hope y'all are enjoying the story so far! Feedback and Reblogs are very much appreciated!

[aressida]

"It is helpful for anons to remember that great evil being unveiled does not equate to losing. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Our job from day one was to push the Overton window open and help people see just how sick the ruling elite, the old guard was. We were called to awaken the populace to crimes against children, corruption, blackmail, Pedowood, and the thousand other rabbit holes embedded within the Babylon system. The precipice, although it has felt like a loss for many, has been a necessary revealing to so many more blossoming red pill enthusiasts. The seeds have been planted and watered. The winning is awakening and its happening all around the world. Your perspective on what loss or victory means as a social media red pill distributor can mean the difference between burn out exhaustion or a level of peace knowing you're doing exactly what you're called to do. Keep your head up. Just because evil reveals itself does not mean the darkness gets the last word. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's their apocalypse." - ULTRA Pepe Lives Matter 🐸

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

My old entry: "Welcome to the Elite’s Apocalypse." Aressida. MARCH 24, 2019.

Hallelujah! Man, it is long overdue. About time… Today the Media has lost all credibility! Now the real fun begins.

“If I’m indicted, I’ll take half of DC with me!!” – Hilary Rodham Clinton. Okay. Your terms are acceptable.

The demons have not been this mad since we freed [Their] slaves.

It is just the beginning. As predicted. Winter is here. And what follows the investigation? The prosecution. The Hoax is over. “Patriots in control.” – Q.

I want to say I mean do you guys not feel like such losers? Two years going on three years, of saying “It’s Mueller time.” Take a listen here, how do you get played for two years straight? Ask yourself that. I cannot stand how [They] made you all look like complete imbeciles. Does this not upset you?

Mueller was not obstructed. The endless and incorrect speculations… x-x-x-x

I always have this saying, “Everything that happens, happens for a reason.” I know you will hate me at first, then you will thank me later. We cannot expect to always know what that reason is, but we can be sure that what goes around, comes around. When we let go of the struggle and begin to enter the Universal Harmony, we start to find inner peace and REAL happiness.

No more indictments from Mueller investigation. “Russian collusion” hoax was a conspiracy, as we all said at every turn. How can the media possibly recover from this further blow to their credibility?

Absolute insanity and sad. [They] so desperately need to be able to rationalize our going to war, murdering innocent people, and giving up all our rights. It breaks my heart to watch many people who have become very one track-minded.

We need to make sure that we will not let [Them] who will try to double down, again. [They] cannot and [They] will not.

So you can see why I knew the Media showed a while ago that [They] have absolutely no concern about credibility. Well according to me, [They] have not cared about credibility in years. [They] took it to a whole new level and it is not good. And this time it is personal.

I understand it has been a difficult and struggling few days and we have faced with anger, hurt and rage. Starting from now, take your time to reflect and remember, we are God’s children.

Here we are, standing unity and we are becoming united together. Now it is William Barr’s turn. Hilary Clinton lost again. The FisaGate and the Uranium One, are you ready for it? Because we are. We are the collusion truthers.

I remember I have watched a video not long ago, with some interview that was filmed like from 40 years ago that Trump talked about running for the President if reality went bad enough and he did. He knew it all. He already knew.

Future proves past.

It is the beginning of the end. D Day approacheth. Let the show begin! It is written in stone now that I have to say, President Trump is the GREATEST President in history.

Winning big.

Welcome to the Apocalypse. The Elite’s Apocalypse. The Elites want you to think the world is ending because their world is. We are now witnessing the collapse of Elite rule over this planet is not the collapse of human civilization, actually, it is our liberation. This is not politics anymore.

The greatest weapon was never about the gun, nor is it nuclear. It is actually information control.

Your mind is very likely is not the key to your freedom, but actually, your mind is the prison itself to break free. You have to escape the confines of the human mind and unlearn everything you have been Taught.

We have a responsibility to know the truth and vote accordingly. Twisting one’s politics to promote an agenda that is a proven lie, it is not excusable.

For all the deceit, lies, complicity as well as decades of taking part in the manipulation of the public. It is a complicit act. Right now we are going to bring the Mainstream Media to its knees.

Bring down the House.

I want to remind all of you here that what I truly love about the Q movement? It was passive. The spread of information is all that we needed to do. We know that you all were misled by the complicit Mainstream Media.

Look, guys, I get that. To all of the ones that called us names, ended friendships, mocked at our beliefs and shamed us for supporting Trump. From my heart, I have to say it was worth it. Got to love vindication!

I have watched people who got lost and went off looking for answers, and truth, even if they feel crushed. This is why Q has reminded us, “You attack those who threaten you most.” [They] use the facts and truth of the spin, [They] pout on every bit of propaganda that [They] have pushed. [They] knew the whole time there was no collusion.

Deep State is freaking our right now. x-x-x-x

I want to tell you this, to those who believed in Mueller do not threaten us here, it is the Mainstream Media. I am so sorry everyone, I truly am. When we are divided, we are weak. We have no power and no control.

We know you all were lied to. We know. We accept you on the good side because we have nothing but love for you. Freedom. It is an act of reconciliation, instead of division. Now it is time to unite together as we take that responsibility for this farce down. We were all lied to. This is why I believe that unity does squash the negative agenda.

The Mainstream Media lied every step of the way. I was pissed that [They] duped many of you guys into believing those lies. It was not the mistake on [Their], it was a deliberate attempt to condition the gullible. [They] committed Treason.

All I know is that the Dark has served its purpose. [They] have being rounded up and will be removed. Justice now is being served.

With the Shadow Work, we must first process the anger, get ourselves to the healing and able to move on to rebuild our world. Forgiveness builds friendships.

We are here by our love for each other and not our righteous indignation. Not our holier than thou retaliation. Not our desire for revenge. Our love for each other. And it is time to build bridges. Put the stones down, it is time to reconcile yourselves, so that you all can be healed.

Does anyone else is starting to feel better about the course of the world, right now, today, than you ever have in your entire lives? What a time to be alive.

Our ship has righted, true winds do blow. Realize this we are all ONE. Think logically here, we are in an information war. Please keep your emotions in check. It is Alice in Wonderland. All theft in the name of “Security.” That is some disturbing yet fine ideological drivel…

New Q 3173: “The calm before the storm? What happens when a blockade (threat) is dismantled & removed? “You’ll find out.” Children used as shields (manufactured crimes of perjury)? FIRE AT WILL, COMMANDER.” – Q.

I guess Q and Anons were right all along.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

@taznovembercelebration - tall or short

The thing is is that Barry wasn't even that short! Like, he was 5'6. He was average. He was the height of a normal human man. But for some reason, the Gods had chosen only the tallest people to accompany him on this apocalyptic mission. The only people Barry was taller than were Merle and Davenport and, frankly speaking, Barry didn't count them because it wasn't the same game. That meant he shouldn't count Lup and Taako, either, but it's not like they were giving him much of a choice.

They had step ladders. Of course, they had step ladders, it was impossible to make everything a good size to accommodate all of them. But they were too small for Barry to use and he didn't want to end up breaking them because the chance of them coming across another planar system that made dwarf-and-gnome-sized step ladders was not a gamble he was willing to take.

He was just... getting really fuckin' tired of having to get objects down from tall shelves by himself.

Lucretia, at least, didn't seem to do it on purpose. But Barry was starting to feel bad asking her to get something down for him every time. She didn't make fun of him like the twins and Magnus did, but she was starting to give him a Look when he asked. Magnus could maybe be written off as doing it accidentally, too, but he did definitely find it amusing to put things out of Barry's reach.

Taako and Lup did it on purpose, no doubt. But Barry had a plan. An incredibly time-consuming plan, but a plan nonetheless.

"Barold?" Lup said sweetly as soon as he walked into the kitchen. Taako sniggered from his place over by the stove. "Could you get the flour for me?"

"Uhm, yeah," Barry said. Honestly, he should have known better by now, but he liked doing things for Lup, sue him. Upon opening the pantry, the flour definitely wasn't in the right place. Lup and Taako were doing a very bad job of not laughing behind him, so Barry automatically looked up to see the flour on the top shelf, precariously stacked upon other objects to get it to the highest possible point. He sighed.

"I'm just so, so busy making food," Lup said. Barry glanced back at her. She wasn't even near any of the food being prepared. She didn't even have an apron on. "So I just need you to-" another suppressed laugh. "-to get it down for me real quick."

"Yeah," Barry said. "Sure."

He stepped back a little, surveying the shelves. And then, he pulled a wand from his pocket. It was a hastily done job, but it was a wand nonetheless. Barry pointed it at the flour and cast Mage Hand. A light blue hand came from his wand and, while it only had three fingers, it succeeded in its task to get the flour down. It deposited the flour into Barry's arms and he turned to give it to Lup.

Both of them looked momentarily stunned. Their laughter had all but stopped. Barry had to admit, he was a little smug. Sure, he felt bad about stealing their magic books, but that's what they deserved at this point. He put the flour down on the counter and asked,

"So, uh, what're you making?"

"That was..." Taako paused, squinting at him. Lup started giggling again a little bit, looking absolutely delighted. "That was such a shitty Mage Hand, Barold."

Ah. They were going to make fun of him no matter what he did. He should have expected this.

"Thanks," Barry said. "D'you need anything else?"

Taako glanced at Lup. Lup glanced at Taako. Slowly, like some kind of fucked up horror movie where Barry was the little kid being haunted by two terrible ghosts, they turned back to him with matching grins.

"Actually," Lup said, and Barry kind of already regretted offering. Not too much, though. Like he said, he liked helping Lup. "I do have some other things I needed to get down."

[300iqprower]

As someone who never quite got to finish Persona 4, what exactly is it about Naoto's handling that is so questionable/problematic? I fully believe there's been a lot of mishandling, I've partially took a break from the game because of how Kanji was treated, but the fandom had me believe it was just a fairly standard Mulan-esque crossdressing storyline. I don't mind spoilers

Ok, here we go....[Full spoilers to follow obviously]

Kanji and Naoto are, in a vacuum, both incredibly well written and non-problematic characters. However, Persona 4 is unfortunately very much not a story that exists in a vacuum. The director of the game, Hashino, is a subhuman piece of shit incel who is openly homophobic and transphobic. My favorite go to is how in an interview when asked why in Persona 3 you were forced into romantic relationships with every female character which no option for platonic relationships, he responded it was because "I believe a non-romantic relationship between a man and a woman can never be genuine". He also stole credit from others to get his position and actually contributed almost nothing to the success of the series. I'm not a fan of the site it's on, but this thread does a good job of summarizing all the things he's done.

So how does this tie back into Persona 4? Well, it cast a very undermining shadow over the aforementioned well written characters, who deal with themes of sexuality and gender identity respectively but have a very pro-status quo resolution to both their stories that becomes much less nuanced with the knowledge that a raging bigot was in charge. The localization handled Kanji and Naoto much better than the japanese version did, and IMO effectively salvaged two phobic premises (the ideas of homosexuality being "confusion" and transgenderism being "a lie") by handling the characters with much more tact in their portrayal. I'd go so far as to argue Kanji is written to be pansexual instead, and as a bisexual I don't see the version of the game I played through as even remotely problematic, especially with how he's never written as if he "got over" his sexuality but rather simply stops worrying about gender entirely, which Naoto reinforces heavily due to his attraction to them not even wavering throughout the story's progression (and showing similar attraction to Yu at times). To be clear though my talk of localization is not me throwing shade at the japanese team, rather I'm saying likely because of the localization process giving Hashino less oversight, the localization team were able to portray it much better. The existence of things in both versions like Yosuke's romance route (that reportedly was going to be included until at the last second Hashino mandated it be cut entirely, retroactively turning Yosuke from a repressed gay into an outright homophobe due to never getting resolution that explains his wariness) shows that there was a clearly positive intent even in the japanese development side.

Naoto is the real can of worms though, not Kanji. Naoto's character arc revolves around the extremely patriarchal system of Japan, particularly Japanese law enforcement. They want to be a detective, but due to both their age and gender fear that they will never be accepted in such a role. The conclusion they reached was that if they can't change their age, they can still at least change their gender, and so began presenting as male. The crux of their arc revolves around their acceptance of who they are and not feeling a need to lie about who they are to please other people, presenting as female later on (though their actual appearance remains the exact same outside of a select few instances).

This is where it gets messy. In both Naoto's instance and real life, there ARE people who feel pressured into presenting as something besides what they are comfortable with for reasons such as insecurity, societal standards, or simple lack of understanding on such things. In a vacuum Persona 4 could be argued as simply telling a story of one such case very well. In context, however, this is disturbingly in line with Hashino's statements on transgenderism and him claiming it's equivalent to mental illness. No matter how well done it is in context, to the point I genuinely believe the people actually writing it did so with completely earnest and well-meaning intentions, those malicious intentions from the one in charge still undermine it completely and utterly.

This is where it gets even messier. As I said, the point of Naoto's character arc is self-acceptance and the understanding they do not need to label themselves to live up to the standards of others looking down on them. Understandably, many choose to claim Naoto is a trans character and treat them as such. On the other hand, one can also rightfully see it as flying in the face of the lesson of Naoto's character of how you should not conform to labels and the assumptions of others, especially since Naoto's story very clearly conveys that Naoto has no actual issue with their gender, but due to bullying over their stereotypically masculine interests and fears of the patriarchal society they live in, feel they have no choice but to live as a man. These are very real issues that many can empathize with, and it's understandable why those who particularly empathize with Naoto might find certain circles explicitly treating them as FTM something that rubs them the wrong way, especially when some of said circles are extremely vocal about this.

And so the end result is any actual discourse is basically FUBAR. While there are unquestionably transphobes who would use Naoto as a "gotcha", many have a genuine reason for not wanting to treat the character as trans. Similarly, there are many people who rightfully see the treatment of Naoto as female being a form of trans-denial and among those people are those who push back particularly vehemently. And in the end most any attempt to actually discuss this devolves into one side claiming acknowledgement of the obvious transcoding is disrespectful to the character, while the other side labels anyone who would treat Naoto as a woman as being transphobic.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Torment

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes does that thing with his metal arm on a mission that stirs something inside you. Something that needs immediate attention, even if it has to be on the quinjet.

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, fluff, is metal arm kink a thing?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Square Filled: Kissed to keep quiet

Word Count: About 900?

A/N: Written for @avengersbingo 2021. I blame FATWS and Sebastian Stan for this.

Avengers Bingo Masterlist

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @marvelgirl7 @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry​

Taglists open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included! ;))

.

Torment. It was pure torment.

Watching him take out the bad guys to infiltrate a building that housed important mission data along with Sam Wilson while you manned the quinjet and helped the boys by hacking into the security system for easy access. After getting them in, you were the audience to the fight that ensued which you had to admit wasn’t the worst part of your job, in fact quite the opposite.

The super soldier fought putting all of his previous assassin training to use. Whether it was a hand to hand combat or a weapon, his movements and actions never failed to leave you awe-struck.

It never failed to let desire bloom deep in your belly either, given it was often at the worst of times, but you weren’t the one to be blamed.

Like now, you had almost missed Sam’s thumbs up from the CCTV footage you had access to for having successfully infiltrated the main section of the building because you were too busy ogling at Bucky who was taking down a heavily armed guard.

“Just let me know when you’re done making heart eyes at your boyfriend, (Y/L/N).” Sam’s voice came through the comms sharply, breaking your little trance.

Bucky knocked the guy out of consciousness with a single blow of his Vibranium arm before turning to look at you straight through the cameras, that knowing smirk visible even through the grainy visual.

.

The jet hummed quietly as it glided through the clouds homeward while you went to check on Bucky who was in the bathroom taking longer than usual to freshen up.

“Hey are you ok—”

Before you could complete the sentence, his hand pulled you inside the cramped space while another went to silence your startled scream.

Bucky pinned you against the door, the smirk returning as realisation dawned on your face of his intentions.

“You enjoyed the show?”

That soft whisper travelled right down to your core as he lowered his hand slowly, purposely tracing an invisible line down your front.

“Can’t blame me.”

He chuckled and leaned in as your hands went to cup his face, soon weaving into his shorter, soft hair as he hummed into the kiss.

Without warning he yanked your pants down in one swift motion, earning a gasp as his lips left yours, moving down to your neck.

“Is this what you wanted?” He murmured into your skin as he grabbed both your hands before securing them over your head with his metal one. The hold was tight enough to restrict any movement but loose enough knowing you wouldn’t dare. Besides, he knew just how much you enjoyed being held down by his arm.

“Oh yes.”

“Better be quiet then.”

Bucky traced your exposed skin before reaching your panties, toying with the hem. Fingers running over the fabric smoothly, teasing as your breaths got shallower.

Reaching in, his fingers were met with the wetness gathered between your legs, your arousal evident. The light touches he was teasing you with turned you into a wriggling mess as you moved your hips further into his hand for more friction.

“Don’t be a fucking tease Bucky.”

“Hush now sweetheart. Don’t make me shut your mouth.” Bucky’s voice low just the right amount of sexy to drive you insane, almost begging you to misbehave.

Your walls engulfed his fingers as they entered your wetness, making your head hit the back of the door in a low thud as you sighed.

“You want more?”

“Mmhmm. Please..”

“So pretty when you beg.”

The supersoldier released your hands momentarily to undo his pants but did it for him, desperate to have him inside you after fully getting rid of your bottoms.

You gave his cock a few pumps with your hands before aligning it along your entrance, as awkward as it was standing up, you managed.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

He bottomed out, his forehead on your shoulder. Grabbing the back of your knees, he lifted you up with ease and began thrusting in and out against the door.

A loud moan escaped your lips as he hit the spot. It didn’t take long for Bucky to cover your mouth with his and plunge his tongue inside, battling your own in a dance you were so familiar with.

His hips never faltered as your cries were swallowed in the brutal kiss, turning your mind foggy as your orgasm approached.

Bucky smiled against your lips as he felt your walls clench around his cock, knowing just what to do to send you over the edge.

Your fingers dug into his leather-clad shoulders as he rubbed circles around your bundle of nerves with one hand, making you see stars as you came around him, cries muffled by the sloppy kisses that continued for what felt like eternity.

The aftershocks of your orgasm still wracked your body as his hips faltered and his cock twitched inside you, filling you up with his seed.

“That was uh..”

“I know.”

“That’s it. You’re coming with me on all missions, I don’t care what Steve says.” Bucky stated, handing you your clothes.

Sharing a few lazy kisses, you got dressed, grinning like kids who’d stolen candy.

The smiles turned into full blown laughter when you heard Sam yelling ‘I’m never getting on this jet with you guys again’ as he stormed past the bathroom most probably shaking his head in disgust.

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

In Hiding

Heyo friendos! It's me, Cay. This reader insert wasn't a request; it was more or less indulgent. I'm still taking requests, though, so please send them in! I'm thinking about making this a series; please leave a note if you're interested in seeing more! This was also written in the 2nd person. One last tidbit: I’d recommend listening to the songs mentioned in the story for effect, your choice tho!

Word count: 1029

Main pairings: Avengers x enhanced!fem!reader, and later on may change.

Synopsis: Reader is a shapeshifter, capable of almost anything. They've been running from Hydra, The Avengers, and the Government. What happens when the Avengers find the reader?

Warnings: Like 1 swear word, angst, fluff and more cursing in next chapters, really un-graphic violence

——————————

You had been hiding from everyone: the Avengers, HYDRA, and the Government. You were one of the last enhanced persons that hadn't been killed, captured, or recruited by the Avengers.

You were hiding out in a small flat in New York City. In it, you had the bare minimum, a couch, a laptop, a hot plate, and clothes for a week. Thanks to your powers, you didn't need much more. Being a shapeshifter, you could do almost anything, turn into anyone.

Lately, you'd been using your powers to shift into avengers and use their powers to your benefit.

See, the way that you worked was that when you shifted into a person, object, or animal, you gained their strength, appearance, and abilities. This came in handy when you needed to get food, you'd turn into a cute puppy and beg people, or you'd steal using Wanda's telekinesis.

Your hair and eyes were naturally bright blue, a result of your powers. When you shifted into anything with hair or eyes, it was also blue. When you shifted into an object, its surface was blue.

After a month or so of hiding in New York, you decided it was time to step up your game. You began planning bank heists and hacking into government files to completely remove yourself from the system. You were one of the greatest minds and most powerful beings the world would ever know, but no one knew of you.

After your first successful bank heist, you’d been noticed by the police. Watching the security footage from your theft, they became confused. Who was this teenaged girl already pulling bank robberies? Dumbfounded, the authorities decided they needed help from higher up. Dealing with enhanced individuals was tricky, and the most experienced would be the Avengers. The police sent the security footage, and now you were a wanted woman.

———————–——–

It had been three weeks, and you had a steady income. You'd been doing low-profile jobs for gangs, running drugs, and still robbing banks. Life was good. You were never hungry, you had clothes on your back, and the gangs you did jobs offered protection.

Back at your apartment after a particularly lengthy job, you decided to turn on music and take a nap.

Walking in and collapsing on your couch, you shifted into a cat to become more comfortable. Little did you know, someone had snuck into your apartment and was hiding behind your sofa.

The intruder jumped up in an attempt to grab you, but your keen feline senses alerted you. You jumped up, quickly shifting to your human form.

Tackling him, you took notice of his appearance. The intruder was… Spiderman? What was a hero doing breaking into your house?

“Hey!” He yelled, struggling under your knee, trapping him to the ground.

Eyes glowing blue and growling, you shifted into a blue wolf. Your appearance frightened the Spiderman, and he whimpered.

“Please don’t rip my head off!” He begged.

Your face contorted, and you sighed. Releasing the boy from your grip, you pushed him away. After standing and staring for a few seconds, you shifted into your human form and waved your hand, telling him to leave. He took the clue and ran out of your apartment and onto the fire escape. You watched him swing away.

You needed to leave. Now. The Avengers knew of you and your antics, or they wouldn't have sent anyone to try and capture you.

Quickly as you could, you packed up anything you could carry, but you were tired, and as a consequence, you were slow.

After ten minutes, you heard talking from outside.

“Here, kid?” Whispered a man.

“Yeah, here. She's a shapeshifter! Isn’t that cool, Mr. Stark?” Whispered an over-excited boy.

You recognized his voice quickly; it was Spiderman. And Mr. Stark? Like Tony Stark? The iron man was after you too!

“Pipe down underoos! They probably heard us!” Whisper-yelled Tony.

“S-s-sorry, Mr. Stark.” The boy stuttered.

“What's the plan?” A gravelly voice asked.

“Well, we don't want to kill her, and she's supposedly powerful, so I'm thinking sedation?” Another voice announces.

Sedation? They didn't have a plan. Sighing, you shifted into a blue iron man suit in hopes of confusing them. You sat on your sofa and waited patiently for them to enter. You motioned to your self-built speaker, which was motion activated. It began blasting bass boosted Frank Ocean.

Conversation on your fire escape went silent.

“They know we’re here. Shit.” Said a feminine voice.

“What now?” Asked Spiderman.

“We attack.” Said another voice before seven Avengers swiftly entered your apartment.

You grinned. This was going to be easy. They had sent Spiderman, Iron man, Captain America, Black Widow, The Winter Soldier, Vision, and, for some reason, Loki.

They all cocked their heads upon seeing the iron man suit on the couch.

“Uh- Tony? This yours?” Asked Captain America.

“Nope,” Tony says, confused.

You stand up, turn to the Avengers, and motion to your speaker to start playing your “fight playlist” because you knew someone would come for you eventually. “Wow.” by Post Malone, bass boosted, began blasting.

Grinning, you created clones of yourself, shifting them into the heroes standing in front of you. You stepped back, letting your clones have their fun.

——————————

After about 10 minutes of fighting, “Let Go” by Ark Patrol began playing. The trance-like feeling of the song drew you away from the fight. Your dustracted state gave Loki to create a clone of himself. Sneaking up behind you, he grabbed your neck and around your waist. His sudden movement and grip on your body paralyzed you, and your clones evaporated. The rest of the Avengers ran over to you and Loki. He must've been using magic, as you could no longer shift.

“Stop squirming.” He growled into your ear.

In return, you bit him. His clutch, however, was unwavering.

“I said to stop moving.” He hissed, his grip tightening.

He was choking you, and you were beginning to see stars. You lost and you'd been captured. The last thing saw before the world went black was the Avengers staring at you in awe and confusion.

Should I write a part 2? Maybe even make it into a longer series?

[jongsungs]

book club | chapter thirteen: easier than i thought

< previous | masterlist | next >

WRITTEN CHAPTER

yeonjun did not have it in himself to trust beomgyu's shitty plan, as well as the execution for it which he knew he would fuck up. sure beomgyu was one of his bestest friends, and gets the greatest grades in a really tough course, but when it comes to reality he...lacks some qualities.

like the time he thought narwhals were mythical creatures, or the fact that he's still convinced that he can't be lactose intolerant because he loves milk and can tolerate it, but not in the sense that everyone else thinks. regardless, beomgyu is a great friend who tries but is just a little bit clueless sometimes.

"this isn't going to work, you know?" standing outside of the reception entrance, the five boys stand awkwardly wondering how to approach the scary receptionist, as taehyun speaks out first.

"yes it will, the four of you have no faith in me. this is a great plan." beomgyu claps back, fully convinced he's won the argument.

"i don't know how to tell you this beomgyu, but you haven't read or touched a book since the eighth grade when you forgot to return a marvel comic back to the library and now you're just scared they're going to send you to prison for it." soobin, who surprisingly came along, tries his best to persuade beomgyu to maybe, abort this mission.

"libraries are scary okay, they always know when you have or haven't returned a book!" shuddering at the thought, beomgyu thinks back to the traumatic memory and remembers that he still has the marvel comic tucked into a shelf beside his desk in his room. maybe he should read that again.

"are we going to do this or what?" kai politely asks.

"oh! yes we are, and when i say we, i mean yeonjun!" beomgyu shoves yeonjun into the door towards the receptionist, as he bolts off behind the nearest wall he can, but only hides behind soobin whose willing to protect his friend.

"beomgyuー!" it's too late now, yeonjun can't turn back after the receptionist has taken a questionable expression towards him.

sheepishly, he laughs and shuffles his way towards her waiting for her to ask what he needs, only to be left with an awkward silence between the two of them as she taps her keys against the keyboard with slight aggression and then sighs.

"what can i do for you?" she tilts her head uninterestingly.

wow maybe she needs a break.

"uh, you know what i'll just come back!" yeonjun shifts on his foot before he notices his friends are still watching him from the door, now suddenly in cahoots with beomgyu's horrible idea. "never mind, uh i just. i wanted to ask if-"

"please hurry, i've got other responsibilities."

"oh sorry, i wanted to know if my friends and i could start a club?" he exhales after speaking in one whole breath. he was definitely not prepared. anxiety rushes through his system and he fiddles his fingers together as he awaits for a good response.

"oh. sure just fill out this form and i'll give it to the dean so he can approve of it. you guys have to make your own posters and other necessities though. this is a busy school." she hands him two sheets of paper, and gets back to her job.

nodding politely, yeonjun says thank you and leaves the premises before he goes back to his friends.

"that was easier than i thought."

summary park jongseong, better known as park jay, is best known for his reputation as well as his friends, so when he makes a spiteful tweet about you, the school library's volunteer, all his fans begin to direct their hatred towards you, ruining your reputation for a reason you wouldn't find out unless you asked the park jay himself.

♱

those who couldn't be tagged are in bold!

taglist: @msxflower @enhacolor @jisungsquirrelhabits @knivqs @yizhoutv @nyangjjunie @c9tnoos @rich-man-v @viscoolreal @vantxx95 @yerive @jungwons-rat @xxluckydreamsxx @nyujjan @kithkithfallinlove @bakubae000 @luvx01 @certainyouthpeanut @sophiko22 @enhasengene @duolingofanaccount @catecita @beomsun @wonieleles @indelicate-macalino @darkheartpeace @diestheticu @nomniki @lordduckass @i-yeseo

[physicalturian]

[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 1

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga] [She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

Words: 9403

Archive of our own

Warnings : Explicit! / Blood / Injuries / Guns / Bruises / Choking / Blood / Graphic depiction of violence / Killing / Murder / Crying / Trauma /

Summary : Wrong place, wrong guy. Wrong in so many fucking ways it only made the attraction more sick and twisted...Yet I wanted more of him and would end up doing anything for him, with him.

If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask, I'd rather be safe than sorry

- - -

Routine.

This would be how I would describe my way of life, a routine. I liked it like that, it was safe, comfortable and I was sure of what would happen. Far from me the idea of only doing the same things over and over again, I would sometimes go out with my friends or see a movie—doing things on a whim was not off the table. But I liked knowing what I was signing up for. Surprises, however, never were a thing I enjoyed—seeing my friends in my house when all I wanted was to relax after work was something dreadful and annoying to no end. I would pull through and be a good host, nonetheless, making sure everything was enjoyable, but I would be drained by the end of their stay.

Perhaps that need for reassurance, for a safety net, was the reason why I never truly took an artistic path or even considered any artistic career. It was too free, too unpredictable, too risky. Never could I have imagined myself doing such a thing; those who did were in my eyes the boldest and I admired them greatly for following their dream, but I was not bold, I preferred the solace of a job I knew would always bring me money. A simple 9 to 5 job was fulfilling enough for me; for some it was not, but I enjoyed it. It was something I could do and found relaxing to do, even when there was more rush. It just made sense to me.

There was not much thrill in this job. The people were nice enough; the clients were a bit bitter from time to time, depending on whether the job we had done was in their favor or not. Some of my colleagues would tell me crazy stories about some firms they had worked on or with and I would have a hard time believing it, but perhaps it was because different departments would deal with different types of clients. I had simple people: homeowners, tax payers, easy stuff. I liked it.

Now, even if I was keen on this routine that I had of going to my job, using the same transports, the same paths, headphones in to ignore the people around, I knew when following that same path would bring me trouble. I knew when to break that routine even just a little bit.

Tonight was one of those rare occasions. As I walked back home from work after having had to stay one more hour to help my colleague Darren fix his mistake—I made sure to tell him he owed me for helping him this late—I saw a group of men surrounding someone on the street. With one glance around, the entire street was empty except for those seven men and their victim. The usually crowded place was completely deserted and as I wondered how it could have happened, I noticed bikes at the end of the road blocking any possible traffic. It did not take a genius to know this was something far above me, there was no way I would interfere with that. Turning around, I made sure my steps were less heavy, less determined and started walking back. I did not have time to think I was going to get out of there safely when I heard, “Miss! Call the police-“. A thud sound, followed by a pained moan reached my ear.

When I dared look over my shoulder, I saw the man on his knees, blood pouring from his nose. I recognized him, he was a creepy older man that would sometimes stay longer on the train to look at younger women. Glancing at the other people around him, I kept my face as neutral as possible. Should I call the police? The outfits they wore all had the same sigil on them, the same pattern, and since they did not look like high schoolers I hardly believed those were school uniforms. Which led to the conclusion that they were the ones the news talked about a lot. The city was filled with gangs fighting over territory, not hesitating one bit to kill anyone who would cross them. I was sure of myself, assertive, yes… but I did not possess a savior complex. Seeing that man on the floor made me realize how wrong the system was, but I could not risk taking part in the situation and helping him. There were too many and clearly a lot scarier and stronger than I was. Looking away, I kept walking and heard them laugh, “That’s the right thing to do missy, he deserved it-“ “I said I was going to pay as soon as I got the money!” The victim interrupted; he was speaking very fast, but the fist smashing his jaw was faster to tell him to shut up. “It ain’t about that, you know it!”

Playing my music again, louder this time, I walked away and let them deal with everything, taking a different route than the one I would usually take. It’s alright to not have helped, you wouldn’t have made a difference… But he deserved it… I can still call the police… A turmoil inside my head started as I kept walking. After a few minutes, I grabbed my phone and dialed the police department’s number; they picked up quite fast, asking me what the emergency was. “There are gang members beating up a man in-“ “I’m sorry ma’am we can’t help with that, have a nice evening.” And just like that, the person on the other end of the phone hung up. Looking at my phone incredulously, I called again, all while taking a turn and walking by a warehouse, “Hello, you must have misunderstood me earlier—it is not a joke, there are gang members in the-“ This time, I was not interrupted by the person on the phone but by my arms being grabbed suddenly.

My heartbeat picked up, I suddenly felt sick and my head started spinning. When things like this happened, we’d always think it only happened to others, so when I realized it was happening to me, I did not feel well. Blood drained from my face, from my entire body. It all happened so fast: one moment I was walking past the warehouse, then suddenly my phone hit the ground and I joined it when I was thrown on it with force. My cheekbone took all the damage as someone pressed the side of my face onto the wet ground and made sure to put weight on my back to stop me from moving. I was shivering in fear already, but that fear only grew when my hair was pushed out of the way by a bloody hand, its knuckles painted red and brown from fresh and drying blood. The action did not feel one bit intimate, it was scary, intimidating. With the pressure on my back, I was pressed against the hard floor and could barely breathe, but in a situation like this I knew better than to talk.

I knew that. Yes.

So why did I talk? Why were my nerves acting up in moments like these?

“I am sure you got the wrong person—I’m just an accountant-“ A gun was now pressed against my cheek, I took it as a sign to shut up and did so. The man on my back twisted the gun a few times against my cheek, making me open my mouth from the weird movements against my teeth, like someone forcing a dog to open its jaws to get food out of it. “Aren’t we noisy? Tonight wasn’t the right night to feel heroic, girl.” The man asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes in discomfort, my breath hitching. Laughing sadistically, he continued talking, this time his tone lowered, “Rats shouldn’t snoop in businesses that aren’t theirs.” I felt the weight shift on my back, then heard him ask someone, “Keep beating him up, I’ll take care of her then we’ll continue having our fun,” His voice was stern but I still heard some tones of him being carefree, he was enjoying this. He then addressed someone else, “Sounds good to you?” The answer consisted of muffled cries, attempts at screams that were cut off by hits then a gun cocking. With a sigh, the man on me pulled the gun away from my face and tutted the man who was bound on his knees.

I felt the weight leave my back but did not dare move, I stayed right where I was. Steps on the humid ground were heard, getting away from me but clearly approaching the man who I assumed was being tortured. The gun fired soon after, startling me as I tensed up and closed my eyes a few seconds before opening them again. The crazy man that put me on the ground laughed loudly, “Come on, it’s just the thigh, you can still walk for now, yeah?” He had said. Turning my head to look at them, I saw the older man on his knees, hands tied behind his back and suit bloody. His tie was undone, and he had wounds all over his face and chest. “I said you can walk, yeah?” Recognizing the voice, I could put a face to my aggressor as I watched him remove his glove before grabbing the victim by his arm and making him stand up, only to force him to wobble a bit. “See! I am being nice! Talk and it’s all over, come on.” He cooed in something that could be seen as sweet if it wasn’t happening in a warehouse with violent people and a man bleeding on the ground.

“I told you! I don’t know anything I-“ The man with the long earring in his left ear did not think twice before punching the office worker in the face with enough force. I believe I heard his nose crack. I caught a glimpse of the tattoos adorning his hands but could not decipher, from how far I was, what was written on them. The crazy man laughed after the punch, “Wrong answer! Haha, you have one last chance, ok?” He said, leaning over so that his face was at the same level as the other man’s. From my place on the ground, I could only see the wicked smile on his face, and it made me feel uneasy. The tall violent man was clearly crazy, having such a man roaming the city did not seem safe at all and it scared me to think of what else was happening in the shadows. “Alright, alright, please Reaper-“ The man he called Reaper gripped his chin tight and chuckled, “Straight to point, I don’t have time to waste on vermin like you, you’re no fun.” He said as a matter of fact, as if they both believed this. His face had turned serious so quickly that I feared the moment I felt like I could escape, he would change his mind in half a second.

The bleeding man nodded quickly, tears streaming down his cheeks, “It’s Silas&Sons—That’s the name of the firm that discovered something was off-'' While I was left in shock at the mention of the firm I worked at, the Reaper grinned and brought the gun to the man’s forehead, “Wasn’t hard, was it?” the man tried to tell him not to shoot, adding that the violent one had promised he would stop. The latter shook his head, “I said it’ll all be over! Listen carefully next time,” He said the last part like a parent berating their child then winked and pressed the trigger, killing the man in less than a second as his body hit the ground, blood spattering behind him. The man with black and blond hair looked at the body on the ground and chuckled to himself, “There won’t be a next time, but you get the jest.” He huffed with a wave of his hand before handing back the gun he had been given earlier. Turning around, his eyes locked on mine. I widened my eyes in pure terror and turned my face to be in the position he had left me in; I was aware he had seen me, but I was hoping he would not mention it.

The other people that were in the room had gone silent and were probably all looking at me, the woman lying on the floor, shaking, dreading for her life. The odds of me coming out of this unscathed seemed to be decreasing the more I observed what was happening around me. A stinging pain reached my scalp making me hiss, as someone lifted my head from the ground to make me look at them. While turning my head their way, I saw two men sitting on a crate, one with two braids that were long enough to go down to his ribcage while the other had shorter purple hair and glasses. Boredom adorned both their features alongside blood stains on their outfits, and yet they were nonchalant about it. I saw a man leaning behind another crate but barely managed to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that the man called Reaper snapped his fingers in front of me. “Here, I’m your tormentor, not them, yeah?” He grinned. Meeting his gaze again, I forced myself to keep my mouth shut and kept my eyes on him.

“You’re being courageous, not even crying yet! You’re a fun one, gotta love it.” He said happily, his hand patting the cheek that had taken most of the damage when he slammed me on the ground. I flinched when I saw his hand approach my face then winced at the rough touch against the bruising skin. “What will I do with you little rat? Eavesdropping ain’t nice, tattling ain’t it either.” The latter was said in a more serious tone as his expression turned somber, any humor that dripped from his words a moment ago was completely gone and he was now looking at me with caution. “Get up, come on.” I did not have a choice, the grip in my hair did not slacken and I had to follow his movement to avoid most of the pain. My clothes were dirty and damp from the humid ground; I felt my legs shake as I got to my feet and hissed at the pain when he yanked my hair for me to follow him quicker.

Pushing me forward, he threw me against the crate where the two other men were sitting. Hitting my shoulder against the wooden item, I swore under my breath and was about to fall to my knees again when the man with the long braids wrapped his legs around my neck and somewhat choked me. Caught off guard, I gripped his shins tight and tried to break free, but his hold only tightened. I heard him mock me while he dug his heels deeper in my biceps from the position he was in, “Stop moving and it’ll stop hurting, fuck you’re stupid.” He sighed with disdain, bringing me closer towards him but it only pressed my neck against the wood. Gritting my teeth, I stopped trying to get him to let go and let my arms fall to my side, when I felt the choke weaken and took a large intake of breath while focusing my eyes anywhere but on the man in front of me.

The manic laughter I had now heard many times in those few minutes I was on the floor reached my ears again, “I can see you wanna live, what are you willing to do to stay alive?” He asked in a light tone. It was a real question, but I did not want to do anything. I wanted to punch them and make a run for it, but they had guns and strength, none of which I could match in any way. I kept my mouth shut again.

The Reaper chuckled again, “I don’t know if you keeping your pretty mouth shut is a curse or a blessing-“ he stopped himself and slapped my now undamaged cheek with as much force as he could, making me yelp at the pain. I kept my face turned the direction his hand had turned it, but he gripped my chin forcefully and made me look at him. His expression had turned almost sour as he stared right into my eyes, “Fucking answer the question, what are you willing to do?” he spat, his face only breaths away from mine. Keeping a frown on, I uttered, “I wasn’t calling on you, there were people blocking another road-“ His mouth contorted into a smile once again as he pushed my face against the crate before letting go as he threw his hands in the air, and turned around on himself once, “She speaks! God it’s so entertaining to see you’re—Still. Not. Crying.” He gritted through his teeth the last three words before leaning over once again, his face very close to mine just like before.

“You’re telling me it’s a coincidence then?” He asked in a playful tone, clearly mocking me.

Fuck I wanted to make a run for it and get away from here. My heart was trying to beat out of my chest the longer I spent time here, the only thought running through my mind was: I am going to die here. How else would I end up? He had killed a man that had told him what he wanted to know, so no matter what I said he would kill me, right? Stammering a bit, I nodded the best I could with legs still around my neck, “Yes, I hadn’t seen you were here, I-“

“You’re funny! I’ll give you that! God you’re-“ He pulled back and made a rapid movement of his arms approaching me, as if putting me on display, “You’re fun! Ran, let her go.” The first part was said in excitement, the latter in the utmost seriousness. The moment he had spoken those words, the man let go of my neck and I was about to stumble when the Reaper grabbed me by the shoulders. He was tall, strangely tall, way above average, and it only added to all the traits that already made him scary. My whole body tensed, I thought this was it. He glared at me for a few moments before speaking to one of his friends, his gaze never leaving mine, “What do we know?”

An unknown voice reached my ear, it was close, so it must have been the other man on the crate, “Seems like a civilian, said she was an accountant. She also seemed surprised when the vermin said Silas&Son.” That perked the Reaper’s interest.

“Oh, so the little girl knows things. Have they sent you?” He asked, forcing me to look up by gripping my chin once more. He did not care the amount of strength he used, he couldn’t care less if I was uncomfortable, to him I was just a puppet that he could throw around and play with. Clearly he was right since I moved along and did not fight back. If I did, I would die, I was sure of it. “I was walking home from work—I saw my usual path was blocked and people were ganging up against a man so I-“ “You ran? The rat isn’t one for conflict, eh?” He patted my head and smiled almost reassuringly before letting go of me, making sure I fell on the floor. “Then? Make this quick, this ain’t the time for a bedtime story.”

“I called the police so that they could check—they said it was none of their business so I tried again and you-“ Fuck I was stuttering, the stress was too much and once I had fallen on my back, he was a lot more intimidating. He could just pull out his gun and shoot me, I could not get up with how I was shaking.

“You tried to do the right thing, right?” He asked, his back now turned to me. I could not gauge his emotion, so I replied sincerely, “Yes, it was all that I could do-“

Suddenly he turned around and pointed a gun at me, grinning, “Wrong! You could have helped the poor, poor man on the street, yeah? But you didn’t, why?” I did not reply right away, so he waved the gun around before crouching right in front of me and taking a good look at me. “They were too many-“ “That never stops a hero, does it? It’s all about charisma, determination, letting your body act faster than your brain, no?” He asked rhetorically, but while I waited for him to continue he sighed and looked down, his gun dropping lower as his arm fell limp. He started mumbling to himself a moment, using the gun to scratch his hair. Perhaps it was not the most adequate time to do so, but I looked at his outfit and saw he was wearing suit pants and a white business shirt. Quite the outfit for a murderer, but he had made sure to pull his sleeves up to not stain it. He was right in doing so since all the blood from earlier was on his black gloves and his forearms.

“Tell me, rat,” He slowly looked up and gave me a wicked smile, “Are you a hero?” He brought the gun to my forehead and all I did was close my eyes in fear. A sob escaped my lips as I tried to back away, but I was only met with the wooden crate, accidentally bumping my head against the shoes of one of the men sitting on it. “Do you believe there is good in this world? That it deserves to be saved? Hm? Would you die for this pathetic excuse of a world?” He pressed the gun even more against my skin. I heard the click as he disengaged the safety and tried to close my eyes even more than how I had already shut them, but found it impossible. My entire body was shaking, there was no helping the sobs escaping my mouth even by covering it.

I felt a gentle hand push my hand away and opened my eyes in confusion, only to see that the man who was holding a gun against me was grinning, “Answer the question.” He turned the gun horizontally and rested his arm on his knee as he placed his head on his free hand, completely relaxed. Getting lost in thoughts, I stared emptily at him while he started counting down, “Three…” Am I a hero? How would one describe a Hero? None of the mythological heroes could define me, none of those famous franchises either. “Two, think faster.” What answer did he want? Should I give him what he wants, or should I just be honest? “One-“

“I’m not a hero, I didn’t call right away because he deserved it, I-“ Taking a deep breath, I tried to take a hold of myself and calm down the best I could. “He harassed people, no one ever did anything about it-“

“See! Wasn’t hard, was it? Good girl,” He patted my head before moving the gun under my chin and raising it with the end of the gun, his finger never leaving the trigger, “You’re also a bad person then, you’re like us, right? Some people do deserve to die!”

Shuddering, I took a shaky breath and inhaled, “I’m nothing like you-“ “If he died it’s because ye didn’t act quick enough, don’t you agree?” He inquired with a pleading look, the mockery never leaving his tone. “I don’t, no.” My words were followed by the gun leaving my person as the man stood up quickly and barked out a laugh before asking his friends if they had heard that, they only grumbled in reply. He tucked the gun in the back of his pants and I quickly let my head down in fear I had triggered him somehow, frightened it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “I like you, accountant woman. I just wanna see one thing to know what I should do with you—well two, but I’ll start slow.” Bringing his arm behind his back, I tensed again but then felt the gun hit my ankle as he threw it at me.

“Shoot me,” He ordered as he crouched in front of me, his arms crossed over his knees while grinning broadly. “I killed a guy, right? I am bad, killing me should make you a hero.” His little speech was stupid, it only started a vicious cycle of death with no end. Killing a killer that killed one person? It’d make me a killer that killed one person, and so on. But he brought his hand to mine and wrapped my fingers around the handle of the gun before pressing it against his forehead. “Here, you can’t miss from this close, show me you got guts! Come on, do it.” That grin turned into something scary, manic, he was getting off on the thrill. But my hands were shaking, I had never held a gun before, never intended to, but tonight was nothing if not exceptional. When I tried to put my arm down, he grabbed my elbow and kept it up, “It’s you or me, come on, make this fun for both of us-“ “I’m not shooting you in the head! You’re insane-“

Hearing my words well, he barked a laugh then guided the gun to his heart, one of the men behind me sighed and told him to hurry up, but the Reaper only shushed him. “Here, then? Sounds better?” Nothing was right in his head; I couldn’t understand what he was doing. No matter how hard I tried, I did not know the point he was making, but taking all this time to think about it made me lose the position of power he had given me. Forcing my hand to let go of the gun, he took it and, at the speed of light, put it in my mouth, making a sob escape it as he did so. “That’s a missed opportunity, too bad.” He shrugged then as I saw him press the trigger. I closed my eyes, my hands gripping my thighs so tight, it must have left some marks under the fabric of my pants.

The click of the trigger echoed, and I felt myself jump on the spot at how loud the bang was—so this is it? That thought crossed my mind rapidly, but was shoved aside by the loud ringing in my ears. I then heard footsteps echoing around the warehouse. The gun was no longer in my mouth, there were no bullets, it was a blank; I felt my stomach churn and opened my eyes in panic before pushing my tormentor away. I was surprised when he let me do so, but it was better for him. Slamming my hands down, I was on the floor as I emptied my stomach on the concrete. Chuckles reached my ears along with the whispers of a few words, “Can’t even stomach a bit of gun play.” “Should have killed her, blood stench leaves easier than vomit.” The latter comment made one of them laugh.

When I was done, I thought for a second that death was quick, most of the time. And when it wasn’t, you expected it, you weren’t filled with stress. Hence why no one ever spoke of post-mortem vomit. It made me laugh only for a second until I was pushed back on my ass when the man with the earring pressed his foot against my chest, making me wince. “Your name, what is it?” he asked seriously.

Feeling some sort of confidence build up, I looked up at him and leaned over, using the hem of his pants to wipe my mouth, but did not answer. The seriousness on his face turned into the look of someone who had been challenged; he snapped his fingers, then I heard someone say my name, my birthdate and my birthplace. Looking at the person who kept reading out loud, I saw the man with a tiger tattoo on his neck approach before tossing my wallet at me. I did not know when they had found the time to pickpocket me, but they managed to. My cheeks were burning up from the sickness, the stress and the embarrassment this entire situation brought but I still tried to keep my head high, for what it was worth. Bringing my hands to my face, I only now felt the tears that had rolled down my cheeks.

“Okay little tattletale, I think I’ll let you go for now-“ “Are you not going to kill me? Isn’t this what you do?” I asked in a weak voice, not even attempting to get up after all the time you had been mishandled. Both the man with the earring and the tattooed one were standing in front of me. The former reached out for my hand to help me get up, I did not take it, so he sighed loudly and bent over to grab my bicep and forcefully get me up. “We only kill snitches and annoying fucks, are you one of those?” I was about to tell him no when he leaned over suddenly and pressed his index against my lips to shut me up. Startled, I tried to step back but he held the back of my head with his free hand and beamed, “No, you’re not. You’re gonna be useful, you’re just the right amount of malleable,” The finger that had left my mouth moved to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, I shivered in disgust, “I can see it in your eyes that you’ll be a fun one to work with.”

I tried to pull away from him, but his hand gripped my hair tight and kept me in place, stopping me from leaning back when he approached closer, “Since you’re not a hero, we’ll make you a villain then—I mean, it’s not going to be hard considering your stance on killing.” He grimaced at that before turning it into a full laugh and letting go of me.

“Rindou, take her back to her place-“ “I’m not doing that, I got plans with Ran. Send the tiger boy, we’re done for tonight.” The one with purple hair and glasses said as he hopped off the crate, followed by the other man on it. It made the Reaper’s face turn sour as he gripped the one who had just spoken and tightened his hold on his shoulder, “I don’t do escorting, that’s your job.” He gritted through his teeth.

Seeing the tension, I put my wallet back in my bag and cleared my throat, “I’ll—I can walk home on my own, by now they must be gone-“ All of them looked at me with a threatening gaze, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. The man with the braids started walking off, Ran was his name I believe, along with the man with the tattoo on the neck, while the two others stayed right there and glared at me. When I took a step back, taking their silence for permission, the Reaper wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close to him, “Right, I’ll do it tonight. Just because she’s a fun one-“ “I can walk home alone, it’s no problem,” I tried to push him away, my hands were shaky and had a few scraps. Without the constant manhandling, not that I missed it, I could feel the dampness of my clothes and how cold it was getting.

Looking down at me without any expression on his face, the Reaper turned us around and waved everyone goodbye, his arm never leaving my shoulders. “We both know that’s not true, if we let you walk home alone you might get beaten up by—how did you put it? ‘Gang members’, yeah, that was what you said on the phone.” He hummed, shoving his free hand in his pocket as he guided us outside. I felt uneasy in his hold, I felt like he was walking me towards my execution. I did not want to lead him to my house, but what choice did I have? He would find it sooner or later; at least that’s what he said, but I did not know how much truth there was to it. In my eyes, it was but a small group of violent men that had killed someone.

“In the end you did get beaten up by a gang member, but it could’ve been worse.” He said lightheartedly as he stopped in front of a car. When I paused my steps and still did not look at him, simply waiting for his next move, I felt him grab my chin and turn my head towards him. My breath hitched in fear as I met his golden eyes. He seemed a bit bored now, but I couldn't care less how he felt, I wanted to bolt away from his touch. “You should disinfect that, and you’ll definitely bruise, but you probably have makeup or something to hide that.” He shrugged.

When he leaned over again, I brought my hands in front of me and closed my eyes to stop him from touching me, but I only heard him huffing a laugh next to my ear as he opened the door of the passenger seat. “Get in, I’ll drop you off.” Looking up at him, I blinked a few times then glanced at the inside of the car. I don’t know what I was expecting, something dirty, bloody, disgusting perhaps. But instead, it was perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. It looked like an expensive car, but perhaps it was just very clean, I did not know. Still unsure, I hesitantly got inside and was about to close the door but felt a certain strength holding it back. The man was leaning on the door and bent over to peek his head inside the car, thinking he needed something. I pressed myself more against the seat to let him grab what he wanted, but his hand reached for the belt and fastened it for me.

“Wouldn’t want you to escape—ah, I mean, safety first.” He said mockingly before winking and slamming the door shut. My hands found their way to the belt and held it tight as I watched him walk around the car. His steps were too big for me to make a run for it, he would catch up on me in no time, I was stuck with him. As he entered the vehicle and fastened his own seatbelt, he pointed at the glove box and handed me his gloves, “Put them back and hand me a wipe, tattletale.”

His craziness was a lot more toned down, for a second I wondered how many faces this man had. The one I was seeing right now was intimidating from how put together he seemed, the other one was scary from how unexpected his actions were. “Why aren’t you killing me?” I asked without looking at him, focused on pushing the gun out of the way inside the glove box and grabbing the little pack of wipes. Giving it to him, his brow was quirked, “Because you’re a good girl,” He grinned, wiping his hands as he continued, “No one would ever suspect you’re working with the likes of a gang. You’re gonna be useful and that’s all that matters, you should be thankful I didn’t kill you. I hate people who eavesdrop.” He said, as he shoved the wipe in the door compartment.

“I didn’t eavesdrop.” I muttered, looking outside the window when he started the car. The laugh that erupted out of nowhere scared me, making me tense again, I dared to look his way and saw his manic smile again. “So, you’re an accountant, pretty boring. You should be thrilled I chose you.” He said in a mix of pride and humor before increasing the volume of the music then drumming his fingers on the wheel. Thinking about his words some more, I glanced his way and lowered the volume, catching his attention as he looked me dead in the eyes. “What if I don’t want to work with you?” I asked, measuring my tone to not piss him off, it did not take a genius to understand this man was unstable and that I needed to tread lightly around him.

Even with as much care as I put in my voice, his reaction was sudden when he turned the wheel and stopped the car on the side of the road. Passing cars honked in annoyance but the man did not care one bit while I had slammed my hand on the dashboard to stop my head from hitting it. Insulting him under my breath, I looked up and saw he had placed his arms on the wheel, his left cheek resting on his forearm. “Then leave. Get out right now, nothing’s stopping you.”

“What’s stopping me is that you’ll kill me, or you’ll run me over, multiple times,” I could see the smile on his face was spreading, but he did not move. The condescendence in his lack of reaction, of action, annoyed me but at the same time frightened me, was he going to slam my head against the window? Against the dashboard? I did not know, but I continued, stammering this time from how nervous I was becoming, “My life is on the fucking line, that’s what’s holding me back.” I spat. My eyes had never left his, even as his smile turned into a grin and his slender fingers gripped the wheel tighter.

When he did not look away, I did. At the same time, I turned on the seat and fully looked ahead instead of facing him. A silence set for a moment then I heard the car start and the man sighed, content, “You’re smart to stay, you’re only alive because I can use you. If you had left, I’d have shot you and left you on the side of the road to die.” He said in a light tone. The words he had spoken had the same effect of a bullet; my guts took a hit without being truly hit. I did not have a choice at all, I was stuck working for a man I did not know without even knowing what I had to do.

His hand rose and I closed my eyes, flinching slightly, “Type in your address, tattletale.” With the little confidence that remained, I lifted my shaky hand and typed it in while telling him that I had a name. Then added, “You should use it. Maybe there is a name I can call you by?” I was not asking for his ID, nor anything specific, if he had a codename in his stupid gang or something like that I would go with it, but calling him Reaper in my head sounded idiotic. “Sorry doll, I think nark or snitch suits you a lot more.” He hummed a moment, throwing me a glance from the corner of his eyes as his hands moved on the wheel absent-mindedly. Huffing in annoyance, I placed my elbow against the window and rested my chin against my fist, thinking he was done. After all, why should I care what he called me? I should simply call him an asshole if he was so keen on calling me a snitch. Or perhaps I should live up to the title and do exactly that, tell the police.

A hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me out of my daydream with my head bumped against the window. Wincing in pain, I heard the man laugh loudly while being focused on the road, “That’s deserved for not paying attention.” He said through laughter. “Pay attention to what? The road? I’m not the one driving-“ “To me, you should keep your guard up, snitch. Who knows what I could do.” He said with a deadpan expression. Without looking at me, he brought his hand to tuck my hair out of the way, then glanced at me and smirked. His touch was light, almost gentle. It allowed me to get a proper look at his tattoo, but I could not focus on it at all, I only tensed up before feeling him grip my throat and bring me closer to him. I made a choking sound and complied to avoid as much pain as possible, “You can call me Hanma, as long as you don’t scream it from every fucking rooftop.”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. This night was not going as planned at all and every time I found any respite, it would be ruined, and the man would turn violent again. I could not let my guard down, I knew it but when he would just stay put, I could not help myself but think he was done. Clearly he wasn’t. His hold lessened a bit, so I took the opportunity to claw his hand away and pull myself back, my own hand around my throat in protection. “They called you the Reaper.” I croaked, wanting him to talk more so that I wouldn’t have to.

“They did, yeah.” He shrugged.

That was it. He did not add anything else. The matter was closed. When I asked him why they did that, he pulled the car on the side of the road again, startling me in the process. With how on edge I was, I did not realize where we were and thought he would be mad again, but instead he looked over my shoulder and nodded, “That’s you, get out.” He told me as his left arm rested on the wheel while the right one was on the back of the seat, casually leaning on it while looking at me. Looking behind me, I saw my house and felt some hope at finally being able to get home and yet… I did not leave right away and instead prodded, “The news talks about your gang, how many people did you kill?” His eyes traveled from my head to my hands then up to my head again, the arrogance never leaving his face as he leaned back against the car door and waved a hand dismissively, “Take a guess, I think it should be fun.”

I was about to give him a number when he leaned forward quickly, his face right in front of mine as he whispered, “Don’t forget those in comas or those at the hospital, they might not be dead, but they might as well be,” He chuckled happily then approached even closer, his lips right next to my ear, “They’re only alive because I said they could be, like you are. One wrong move and,” leaning back quickly, he clapped his hands, “Bang, dead.” He said dead meaning those in the hospital, but I fully understood he was threatening me, I was not an idiot.

Taking this as my cue to go, I unbuckled my seatbelt and when I was about to open the door, I heard the mechanism of the car locking it. Turning around to look at Hanma, I wordlessly asked if he needed anything else. His hand reached out towards me, “Your phone.”

“I didn’t record this or anything, I was not on a call with the police either, I-“ snatching it from my hand while I was rambling, Hanma tried to unlock it but instead was met with a locked screen. Hesitantly, I took it from his hand, mine being a lot shakier than his seeing how steady his were and unlocked it before giving it back to him. A minute passed and he handed the phone back to me, “We’ll be in contact. Things are gonna change for you, doll. Hope you’re ready for what’s coming.”

He was an unusual character, he was confusing, violent, and surely insane. All of those things added up in my mind, making me accidentally let it slip, “How can one be ready with you? Crazy man…” I said it all under my breath and huffed the last part as I pushed the door open. I let out a sigh when the door opened easily, part of me even thanked the man for not keeping me in any longer but I was still on my toes, certain he would say something else as I left the car, but he did not.

Grabbing my bag, I shuffled away from the car that still hadn’t moved and kept glancing over my shoulders until I reached the door where I struggled to put the key in the keyhole. At each failed attempt my frustration grew, the swears flooded out of my mouth easily and soon it turned into a stupid crying of frustration. “Fuck this, fucking shit-“ when the key finally fit, I hurried inside and locked the door behind me again but this time with the sliding lock, knowing full well I would struggle again too much to lock my door with the key seeing how tensed I still was.

The darkness of my home was what welcomed me. It was awful, it was cold and above everything it felt oppressive—my face was heating up, I was suffocating, my clothes were burning my skin, but I was also shaking. Fanning my face, I made my way to the bathroom with heavy steps, my breath was quickening, was it breathing or heaving? I needed to calm down, I needed to ground myself but I did not know how, this never happened but I felt like I was dying. I could not breathe, my lungs hurt at each intake of breath. “Fuck, fuck, shit, calm down“ I panted while taking off my clothes, I needed to take everything off, I wanted to burn them, it was filthy, disgusting and smelled wretched.

As I took off my top, I caught a whiff of the stench of the warehouse and let out a sob but did not let it stop me even if I could not breathe. I removed the rest of my clothes and knelt by the bath, leaning over to turn the shower on but did not wait for it to be warm to step inside and let it pour all over my dirtied body. The coldness made me take a deep breath that seemed to have helped with the panic attack I was having, but it did not help the crying, so I let it all out while I was washing up. What have I gotten myself into? What happens next? What am I supposed to do now? Is he going to ask me to kill someone? Am I going to have to use a gun? I didn’t want to do any of those, I only walked by something I had nothing to do with and—letting out a scream of frustration, I sat down in the bath and let the water rain on me. I ran my hands through my wet hair and placed my elbows on my knees, grunting again, “I don’t do gangs… I do numbers, I don’t have time to murder people…” I mumbled.

Letting my own words sink in, I let out a chuckle at first and focused my gaze on the wall in front of me then laughed again, shortly. I don’t have time to murder people, yeah… “Because if you had time you would?” I asked myself jokingly as I stood up, laughing again. Shaking my head, I shut the shower off and got out, almost slipping on the water that had splattered around the bath. I hadn’t taken time to put a towel on the floor or prepare anything, fortunately I managed to balance myself and took one from the closet. Once I was dry, I wrapped my robe around my form and stopped in front of the mirror, taking a proper look at the damage I had taken.

The scratch on my cheekbone was bruised, there was another bruise on my neck that I could probably hide with a turtleneck, the season allowed it, and if not with a turtleneck then a scarf would do the trick. Disrobing myself just to take a look at the rest of it, I had some bruises on my arms where I was grabbed to be moved roughly, without counting the pain on my ass but no one would see that. Passing my tongue over my teeth, I was glad as I still had all of them, but my jaw hurt, “Did I bite the inside of my cheek? At what moment could-“ A flashback of when the man slapped me with full force appeared in my mind, fueling me with a bad feeling of uneasiness as I put back my robe. “Bastard…” I huffed before opening the door of my bathroom and stepping inside the dark room again. Talking to myself, I continued, “Nothing’s stopping me from telling the police, who does he think he is? I could very well call them, yeah…” I paused in my steps and scoffed dryly, “Not that they’d listen.”

The news was always talking about the gangs in the city, telling us that the police were working on stopping them, but no one knew the people that were supposed to defend and help were a bunch of sellouts, bribed out idiots. The system we had put our trust in had decided to fuck us over and to leave us to ourselves, it was because of them that I was in this situation. It’s not like it had been hard to stumble upon one of their gang meetings. They might claim discretion, but if anyone could find them, it was anything but. “Who am I kidding? I am fucked,” I barked a laugh and turned on the light, “Guess I am a gang member-“ I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the man my thoughts were plagued with, sitting on my couch, his legs crossed with one ankle over a knee. “Not exactly, you still need to prove yourself. But I love the enthusiasm!” He said while placing an arm on the back of the couch and looking at me with a satisfied smile, not even fully facing me, only to look right ahead once he was done talking.

Usually, one would say don’t turn your back on your enemy, but he was the predator here, he had nothing to fear, I was the one shaking in my metaphorical boots. Deciding to not be useless, I was about to shuffle to the kitchen discretely when I saw him beckon me closer by bending his index finger. Thinking I could play it off as not having seen it, I took one step towards the kitchen when I heard him click his tongue over his teeth, “I said, come here.” Stopping dead in my tracks, I did not speak, and silently opened my bag to pull out my phone and start recording. His hand gripped the back of the couch and I heard him chuckle mockingly, “Ran said you were stupid, but we both know you’re not, now come.” Putting the phone properly on the furniture, I followed his order and walked up to him to stand right in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest to close my bathrobe up to my neck.

“How the fuck did you get in?” I spat. He was not driving, which meant he could not throw me out of a speeding car. He was not surrounded by other maniacs either, and if he had a gun and decided to shoot me, I would have proof of it. There was a semblance of safety, even amidst the fact that the man had broken in without caring. It led me to have some confidence.

The man grinned and leaned over, his elbows resting on his knees. His demeanor was one of a man in control, he knew he could do anything to me because I would bend, he said it himself, I was malleable. But not for lack of will, simply by fear. And if he kept bending me this much, I would not last long, I would break. As long as I feared him, he had the upper hand… but I was not feeling fearless yet. With a low chuckle, he simply said, “Broke in with pliers,” then showed me the pair of pliers lying on the couch. I glanced at my door and saw the chain of my lock was broken as he had said, but that loss of attention directed to him annoyed him. Snapping his fingers, he brought my attention back to him, “Here, you should make a double of your key-“ “I’m not doing that. First, you’ll pay me back for breaking my lock, then if you want to meet up for whatever you got planned for me, you pick a spot but not-“

My breath hitched when Hanma rapidly stood up, his form towering mine as he looked down at me with his hair falling randomly on his forehead. “We got a lotta confidence suddenly, don’t we? Go ahead, finish your sentence, I’m listening.” He cooed in a condescending tone, his face approaching mine as he hovered slightly over me. Looking up at him, I looked down to his chest feeling my confidence wane slightly. When I tried to step back, not liking how close he was to me, he placed his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Come on partner, let it all out, you seem to have a lot on your mind. Keeping it all bottled up ain’t gonna end up well. We should get along if we’re gonna work together, yeah?” He said in a fake listening attitude, we both knew he didn’t care but I was riled up and clenched my fists.

“I don’t want you in my house, you’re a piece of shit. I don’t want to get along, I want you to fuck off—Get out.” I managed to say everything without stuttering, but his grip tightened on my shoulder, making me tense up even if it was not painfully tight. Simply knowing that nothing was holding him back, not his mind, nor his ethics, nothing. His mood was the turning point of his actions, which means one change of emotion could make him go feral and hit me, it scared me. Hissing mockingly, he tilted my chin up to make me look at him, a smirk adorning his face, “Make me leave then, do something about it.” Grabbing both my shoulders, he pushed me back slightly then spread his arms wide, a huge smile on his face, “Go ahead, I won’t do anything—it’s free hits,” He taunted. When I did not move, he pointed at his face and licked his lips like an animal looking at its next meal.

“Do it, show me your guts, little rat! I hit you right? I put a gun to your head, that must be so annoying, right?” Biting the inside of my cheek, I could feel my frustration building up inside me again. He had done all those things, and no regret was written on his face, none. He had killed a man, broken inside my house, manhandled me and hit me. He had mocked me, humiliated me, mistreated me and while it all happened in a short time span, I already felt strongly about him. Reminding myself all that, I hadn’t realized the hit that flew from my person until it landed on his jaw, my fist feeling like it had hit a wall. His face turned to the side by the end of the action.

Using the heel of his hand to wipe the blood that dripped from his mouth, he looked at me with hooded eyes and grinned, his teeth colored red, “That’s hot, but ye shouldn’t have done that.”

[Part 2]

[nev3rfound]

someone i once knew : b.b - p.6

now that your memories are resurfacing, it’s finally time for bucky to get the answers to his questions and to see you, the real you once more. (4.1k)

oh my goodness, this is it?! a quick non soppy thank you for reading, but seriously all of your comments, feedback and excitement have made writing this series so joyful for me, so thank you and i hope you like the last part!

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX (THE ENDING)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

WARNINGS: mentions of hospitals, references to bucky’s ‘death’ in CATFA, blood, angst - i think that’s it!

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

Bucky ignored everyone as he stormed through the compound once he got off the jet. He didn’t care about the warnings being yelled at him, all he could hear were the words you uttered before you were taken away. ‘I remember.’

“Buck, wait,” Steve grabs Bucky by the shoulder, forcing him to a halt as he stares at Steve coldly. “she’s still fragile, Fury needs to see us, now.” Steve states, watching as the rage in Bucky’s gaze melt into sadness.

“I need to see her, Steve.” Bucky pleads as Steve lowers his hand from his friend.

“I know,” Steve sighs. “but she’s in good hands, the sooner we speak with Fury, the sooner you can see her.”

*

Opening your eyes, you blink rapidly as a series of faces greet you, all wearing bright smiles. “Hello, Y/n.” Someone steps forward, dressed in all black and with an eye patch covering one eye.

“I-”

“No no, don’t try and talk just yet.” The man states as he glances over his shoulder to the woman with a device in hand, tapping away at it whilst you watch in confusion. “I’m sorry to say it has been longer than it should’ve been since your last check-in.” He explains as you furrow your brows, remaining quiet. “We are aware that they are supposed to be every few years, but there was an accident involving Howard Stark.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, Howard, your dear friend who has helped you through all of this. “Is he?” You mutter, your voice is hoarse as the man simply nods.

“Due to Stark’s demise, it has taken us years to have access to your chamber.” He continues to explain, stepping away and past a group of people, strangers from those you knew whilst you remain inside your chamber.

“Years?” You ask, still tied up inside the chamber. Usually, once your eyes opened you would be released, allowed to walk with Howard and Peggy if she was available; but this feels wrong, somethings changed. “How long?”

The man pauses as he turns back to face you. “The year is 2011.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you look over at all of the people before you. “No, no that’s not possible.” You breathe out, feeling your chest tighten as you fight in the restraints keeping you inside the chamber. “It was 1989!” You state, but the man simply turns away from you. “It was 1989.” You repeat under your breath as three men approach you, one with a needle in hand and without warning, plunges it into your forearm.

“You’ll be safe, Y/n.” The man tells you as your vision blurs once more until your head rolls forward.

*

“Take a seat, Sargent, Captain.” Fury directs them both into the room, seeing Tony already sat, waiting for them.

Sitting down apprehensively, Bucky remains perched on the edge of his seat, hearing the plates in his metal arm whir loudly as he clenches his fist. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Fury who spares a glance at Maria, watching her close the door to the conference room.

“Are you finally going to explain what you know about my assistant and what the hell is going on here?” Tony asks, leaning back in his chair as he rests his feet on the table.

“Yes, we will.” Fury starts and Maria hands out a file from SHIELD, dated back to the late 40′s.

Taking the file in his grasp, Bucky eyes it carefully, noticing your name etched into the cover.

“What is this?” Steve questions whilst Tony and Bucky open their files, a photograph of you clipped onto the front page.

Running his thumb over the image, Bucky remembers being there for that photo. You had just gotten your summer dress, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. A photographer captured your smile as you walked into the hall for the weekend dance, Bucky right behind you, just out of shot.

“This is Subject 359 from Project Revive.” Fury presses a button on the tablet in front of him, revealing a projection of photos, showing you stood alongside Howard Stark and Peggy Carter, images causing heartache for the three men. “Miss Y/l/n volunteered herself after the war for an initiative to suspend life.”

“She went into cryo?” Bucky speaks up, sadness etches his tone as he focuses on your bright smile in the photo of you in between Howard and Peggy.

“She did, Sargent.” Fury states. “Y/l/n was Howard’s first subject to succeed in the trials, and was put into the induced state for organised periods of time and then awoken to ensure she was still healthy in all respects.”

More images flash up, showing both Peggy and Howard getting older, but you remaining youthful between the two.

Steve can’t help but feel his heart sinking at the sight of Peggy, the years he’ll never have with her, the forgotten time as a golden band remains on her ring finger.

“So how come she doesn’t remember anything?” Tony breaks his silence, tearing his eyes from the images of his dear old Dad to focus on Fury whose frown only deepens.

The projection disappears as Fury rises to his feet before pointing to Bucky. “The winter soldier happened.”

Bucky lowers the file from his grip as he watches Fury carefully. He remains quiet, too afraid of what will be said next.

“After the winter soldier executed Howard and Maria Stark, access to the chamber Y/l/n was held in was restricted.” Fury explains, now looking over to Tony who lowers his feet from the table and sits upright.

“That’s why you needed me.” Tony can’t help but scoff. “You took my DNA.”

“Howard was a smart man, but he knew his systems could easily be overridden by someone more intelligent in the future. So he ensured the only way the chamber holding Y/n could be accessed was by his own bloodline.”

Tony laughs quietly under his breath. “Tony,” Steve starts, but Tony carries on.

“God, Dad truly had a reason for everything didn’t he?” Tony remarks. “Too bad he wasn’t alive to see what a car crash he created.” He jokes, leaning forward to glare at Bucky whose head remains buried in his hands.

“It’s all my fault.” Bucky mutters. “Everything, after all this time.” He slowly sits upright as all eyes remain locked on him like a target.

“Not necessarily, Sargent.” Maria speaks up from the sidelines. “You see, Y/n had been left in cryo for just over two decades when we finally got to her. She was disorientated, and had missed an entire segment of history, the turn of the century, evolution of technology and much more.”

“So, we did what was written according to Howard, which Y/n had agreed upon if the time came.” Fury adds. “We took her to Wakanda, and suppressed her memories.”

Bucky shakes his head, throwing your file aside as he stands up. “No, she would never do that!” He yells, slamming his metal fist into the table causing it to split.

Remaining unphased, Fury carries on. “She did, Sargent. Look in her file and see for yourself.”

Bending down, Bucky picks the file up and skims through the various pages, past your health reports and to a legal document where your signature remains inked on the bottom of the page.

“Y/n Y/l/n was a broken woman after the loss of her best friend and fiance. She trusted those that were left behind and put herself into their hands, knowing she would be making a difference and aid the future of science and medicine.” A fraction of a smile forms on Fury’s face. “But bringing her into the twenty-first century meant changes had to be made in her mind. Memories had to be rewritten and others to be permanently hidden.”

“So how come she’s now remembering?” Tony asks. “And how come she ended up here, as my assistant of all people?” He huffs loudly.

Fury spares a glance to Hill who nods, before exiting the room. “Y/n was always going to have a job of some descript within SHIELD.” Fury paces around the room as the three pairs of eyes burn into his every move. “However, when Y/n returned from her time in Wakanda, after her memories had been rewritten we got in touch offering her a job opportunity which would lead to being Tony's assistant. What we didn’t expect during that time were two super soldiers to resurface from the dead.” Fury motions to both Steve and Bucky.

“So they triggered it?” Tony pieces the details together, pointing the blame to Bucky who tenses under Fury’s cold gaze.

“It seems that way. But now that she’s remembering, the details of the life she has supposedly had all these years are fading away. She’ll be confused for a while, but the memories implanted can be removed.”

“She can forget about that life?” Bucky questions quietly, having heard you briefly discuss memories of the life you never truly lived with such vividness. “She’ll only remember the life she lived with us?”

“Yes, Sargent.” Fury states. “Y/n Y/l/n will be the same girl you left in the 40′s, give or take some level of trauma.”

“Can I see her then?” The question leaves his lips instantly, barely allowing Fury to take a breath.

Yet, Bucky watches the glances exchanged between the other men, the uncertainty in their expressions whilst Bucky remains still.

Steve slowly stands up and pats Bucky’s arm, giving him a knowing smile before heading toward the door, Tony right behind him who doesn’t spare Bucky a glance.

Now alone with Fury, Bucky can feel his body tensing under Fury’s scrutiny. “Is there something else I’m supposed to know?” Bucky tries to remain composed as his leg bounces beneath the table, his foot repeatedly hitting the floor.

“Y/n will be unconscious, in a comatose state for the next week or so.” Fury explains, watching as Bucky sinks into his seat. “It’ll take time, Sargent, for her to recover from this.”

“But she’ll be Y/n.” Bucky comments, watching Steve and Tony walk in separate directions past the glass screens of the conference room without looking back.

Fury reaches down beside him, lifting up a metal briefcase. “Before you go, Barnes,” Fury unlocks the latches on the case, lifting the lid up. “there’s something you might like back.”

Bucky raises a brow as Fury reaches inside the case, taking something out and places it on the table.

Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Bucky doesn’t trust his legs to work properly as he eyes the small box. “I, I never thought I’d see that again.” Bucky admits, a tired chuckle following.

“We kept it as per Y/n’s wishes.” Fury remarks, sliding the box across the table as Bucky grasps it in his flesh hand, opening the lid to reveal his prized possession, unable to forget the memories laced around the diamond ring.

Smiling at the jewel, Bucky closes the lid to the velvet box and places it into his pocket. “Thank you.” Bucky mutters. “For looking after her.”

“Y/n has been SHIELDS best-kept secret for almost 6 decades, Barnes.” Fury comments. “It’s about time she’s allowed another chance at living, don’t you think?”

Nodding to himself, Bucky pushes his chair back, hearing it scrape along the wooden floorboards.

“One more thing,” Fury interrupts as Bucky reaches for the door handle. “none of it was your fault, Bucky.”

Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Bucky focuses on Fury as he remains straight-faced, but reaches forward, bringing the projection back up of you, Howard and Peggy.

“I hope she knows that too.” Bucky thinks aloud as he opens the door, closing it behind him before he can hear Fury’s response.

Watching the former soldier walk down the corridor, Fury sighs deeply as he removes the projection. “I’m sure she will.” He closes the empty briefcase, knowing that this is the end of Project Revive, once and for all.

Hanging from the railing, Bucky could hear Steve screaming his name, his arm outstretched for him to grab.

The wind was hurtling at his body full speed as his fingers began to slip from the rails, but he knew he had to make it, he couldn’t leave you for the second time and not come home.

Steve began to climb down from the train, moving across the broken frame toward Bucky, stretching his arm. “Just hang on!” Steve yells, fear rising through his tone as the bolts of the railing Bucky is grasping onto begin to creak, pulling away from the metal lining of the wall.

“Steve, I,” Bucky calls out, moving along the rail closer to his friend.

“Grab my hand, come on!” Steve cries out, knowing he can save him, he has to save his best friend. “Come on, Buck.” He mutters, thinking back to the morning before they left, seeing you in Bucky’s arms with the ring on your finger, a whole future for you both awaiting to be lived.

Looking up in desperation, Bucky cannot stop the scream leaving his lips as the railing breaks as his body becomes weightless, his arm still outstretched as he falls.

Steve screams as Bucky cries, falling through the air toward the ground at full speed.

The train carries on, turning a corner leaving Bucky truly alone as Steve breathes heavily, his heart has broken into pieces as his best friend is gone.

Lying in the snow, Bucky can feel his breaths slowing, life draining from his body as the white ice surrounding him is turning crimson. “Y/n,” He breathes out, looking up at the bare branches reaching for one another from different trees. “I’m sorry.” He whispers as his eyes begin to dip, just as several men appear above him.

Panting heavily, Bucky looks over to the clock on his bedside table. 7 in the morning, again.

He buries his face into his hand, feeling guilt course through his body knowing you’re awake and he has yet to see you. Part of him was nervous to see who you’ve become and whether you’re still the same girl he loved and lost all those years ago. Or if you’re this new version that he knew as Tony’s assistant, one who views him as the former winter soldier, not James Barnes.

Playing with the ring in his fingertips, Bucky walks toward the medical wing within the compound, already hearing laughter sounding from the room causing his heart rate to spike.

“She was amazing, truly.” You tell Steve, resting your hand over his as he tries to stop tears falling from his eyes. “And she was happy in the end, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, wiping his eyes. “but she seriously punched Howard for not taking Maria on a date sooner?” He asks again as you nod, gentle laughs sounding from you both as Bucky hovers behind the entrance, a wall of apprehension stopping him from entering.

“Do, do you think he’ll visit?” It’s almost whispered as you look down at your marked hands, scratches and dark bruises now littering your skin.

Hearing faint movements from the doorway adjacent to your bed, Steve smiles to himself for a split second. “Why’d you think he wouldn’t?”

Bucky leans closer against the doorway, his heart hanging together by a mere thread as you shakily sigh. “I just, what if I’m not who he remembers or even wants in his life?”

Ever since your memories flooded your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering what he’d think of you.

“I’ve been awake for two days, Steve,” You add, doubt clouding your mind as Steve silently prays for Bucky to just walk in. “and, and he hasn’t been yet I just, I,” You stumble over your words, eyes locked on the sheets covering your body as you remain unaware of Bucky turning the corner, walking toward you.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky quietly calls out, standing still in the entranceway with the box now in his pocket, out of sight as he clasps both hands together, flesh into metal.

Your hand slips from Steve’s as you force yourself further up the bed, itching to climb out.

“I wouldn’t do that, you know what Bruce said.” Steve reminds you, yet you tear the sheets from your body and uneasily rise to your feet.

“Since when did that stop me, huh?” You joke back, Bucky unable to stop himself from smiling at your playful antics with Steve, giving him a glimpse of what he once knew.

Moving closer to one another, you both can’t help but note the changes. Your gaze hovers to his metal arm, the black plates etched with gold leading to his shoulder, his long hair and stubble lining his jaw. But he still had the same loving blue eyes, even if you could see the pain lingering behind them.

Yet, Bucky could still see it’s you. Despite the bruising and cuts across your skin, you hadn’t changed one bit.

“James?” You speak up, too afraid to reach out as your hands remain by your sides.

“Y/n.” Bucky responds softly, taking a step closer as Steve watches from the sidelines, having never anticipated seeing this moment happen after he saw Bucky fall from the train all those years ago.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” You ask sadly as tears begin to fall across your cheeks.

Taking another step toward you, Bucky lifts his arm up to brush the tears from your face. His hand shakes as he takes a deep breath, allowing himself to cup your cheek in his hand.

Closing your eyes, you rest your hand over his as he holds back the sob in his throat. “It’s me, doll.” Bucky whispers as you squeeze his hand, not wanting to let go. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He breathes out, knowing no words can truly describe the past sixty years, not yet at least.

“I’ve missed you so much, James.” You try to compose yourself, knowing it’s no use as you look up at him, the man you’ve loved. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Chuckling sadly, Bucky nods in agreement. “I thought the same until I heard you playing the piano the other week.”

“Wake and dream medley.” You remember it, having danced many a time with him at his Mother’s house, twirling around the living room whilst Rebecca laughed with you as Bucky dipped you and dropped you by accident. “I, I,” Stumbling over your words, Bucky glances over to Steve.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Steve speaks up. “But it’s good to see you both, together after all this time.” He adds sincerely before stepping out of the room whilst Bucky guides you back toward the hospital bed, knowing you still need your rest even if you deny it.

“You’ve read my file, Y/n,” Bucky sighs. “I, I’m not the same man you knew.” He looks away, still cautious of himself, of his own mind. “There are things that I’ve done that I’m afraid of you learning about.”

Unable to take your eyes off him, you take hold of his metal arm with both your hands, gliding your fingertips over the cool metal as the plates whir into place.

And then the last thing Bucky anticipates hearing causes his ears to perk up. You giggle, a smile growing across your lips as you shuffle closer into Bucky’s embrace.

“I know James,” You tell him, lifting his arm to rest around you as you lean against his chest, inhaling the scent that was a foreign memory intertwined with old pillows after he left for war. “but I want you to know, I’ll love you, whoever you are or whoever you turn out to be. Nothing, and I mean nothing will change that.” You assure him, feeling his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.

“You still love me?” He breathes out, trying to disguise the evident surprise in his tone, but you quickly move from his embrace, staring at him with sorrow in your gaze as your brows furrow together.

“You think I could ever have stopped?” You retort.

“Doll,” Bucky starts, but you shake your head.

“Why would you think I would’ve stopped, or possible could?” A scoff sounds from you as Bucky lowers his gaze to the marble tiles on the floor, shame overcoming his mind.

“James, for years I mourned you, I strove for a better future, dealing with losing you and Steve. My parents were gone, I had no one left besides myself.” You explain, fighting through your emotions that have been suppressed with your memories for so long. “In all that time, not once did I ever stop loving you, even if you were gone.”

“I was never very good at loving you though, Y/n.” Bucky admits. “We both know that I, I left you, twice. Both times with the promise of coming home.”

“And you did.” You comment, resting your hand on his stubbled cheek as Bucky glances up, seeing a shy smile form on your face. “You’re here now, we both are.” You chuckle in disbelief. “By some means, we’re both here, in the twenty first century, alive.”

“Never thought I’d live to see the turn of the century, let alone live in it completely.” Bucky jokes, hearing you laugh quietly. “Will, will you still have me then, Y/n?” He asks softly as he reaches into his pocket, revealing the small velvet box.

Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of it. “They gave it back to you?” You ask in disbelief, feeling the corners of your lips bury further into your cheeks whilst Bucky nods.

“And now I’m giving it back to you, its rightful owner.” Bucky states, lifting the lid revealing the ring, your ring. “That is, if you’d still like it, doll?” He apprehensively asks.

Yet, you roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from huffing in response. “Are you seriously asking me that?” You remark, and Bucky blinks for a moment. “And like this? Come on, Buck, at least give it a little class.” You joke, only ever calling him ‘Buck’ in times of relief.

Moving from off of the bed, Bucky grunts as he kneels down in front of you on one knee. “Y/n Y/n, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, my doll and my best friend forevermore?” His words mirror those he uttered decades ago in that old dance hall, and yet they still roll off his tongue with the same ease.

Following his action, you lower yourself from the bed, Bucky reaches out to support your waist as you kneel in front of him. “Yes,” You smile. “and I guess this time, forever means forever, huh?”

“You’re stuck with me doll,” Bucky jokes as you lean closer, your lips ghosting his.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, James.” You whisper, closing the distance between you both as you kiss him, the sensation of coming home after all this time hitting you like a ton of bricks as you wrap your arms around him, wishing to never let him go.

“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.

Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.

“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.

“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.

“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.

And after all this time, Bucky was right, you had found him; only to discover he’d been there all along.

T H E  E N D 

(thank you to the following for all the love on the series - i couldn’t have done it without your support :) ) 

@mellmellmell12@theofficialzivadavid @fandom-princess-forevermore @lokilovefoever @vivalakatee @chgevorgian @captainwinterwriter @carliewinchester @spn-obession @buckysquad @shower-me-with-roses @basicgukk @yasminwashere @sunfouler @feminist-fan-girl @stealapizzamyheart @soccer-100000   @sunflowerbunny2   @kickingn-ames @choerriesmotion @why-thats-just-delightful @officialfictionalwreck @romanoff-nataliaalianovna @hersilencedscreams @b-r-stark @dezzxmx @thearcher-temis @i-lost-my-shoe-down-a-drain @girl-obsessed-with-things @loitsurohto @shawnie--jo @alainabooks143 @dorothea-hwldr @bakugouswh0r3 @chloe-skywalker @btsiguess-kpop @austynparksandpizza @tomisagod @22-frozen-memories @peachy-aisha @emilytheukuleleplayer @pass-me-jeez-it @yuukiahim 

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [1] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, super duper mild angst, slice of life, josei, bad comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, very,very mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT BECAUSE NANAMI DESERVES HAPPINESS)

Notes: after repeatedly giving you jjk angst, i have been very happy to announce that i am able to write something fluffy now. Yay! (Anyways this is based on the manga sesame salt and pudding, yall better read that. It’s just *chefs kiss*) also this may or may not be written ebcause of the amount of smoll nanami content i’m seeing around this site hmPH 

masterlist  || taglist || [next  ; updates every friday]

The sound of your alarm blared at the crack of dawn, making you immediately jerk up in an unfashionable manner, you shouldn’t drink on Sunday nights. Good lord,  why did you even do that?-

Your thoughts are cut short though when you feel something, better yet, someone, next to you. It’s dark but you could definitely tell that whoever this stranger is, had settled himself quite comfortably by your side. You blink once then twice then slowly reached out to switch your lamp open to get a good look on who was next to you.

Thankfully, you’re still in your clothes from last night.

Also, who the fuck is this?

Your brows are furrowed together as you try to remember who this person was. Blonde hair and jaw so sharp that it could probably cut the vegetables on your kitchen counter, some fine lines littered his face as he wrinkled his forehead in his sleep.

The tie on his neck is loose as you slowly peered to observe him even more and for some odd reason that made your ears turn bright red as you check out his rather lean figure (he wasn’t overly muscular, he was just right)

“Oh shit.” You mumbled, snapping out of your daze, you had to focus! This was a stranger for crying out loud, “Who the-”

Before you could even say anything more, his eyes shot open and you’re greeted by chocolate brown eyes. You try to stutter out a reply, clearly in your frazzled state the only thing you could let out was, “What the fuck?”

“Oh, you’re awake.” his voice was deep and quite raspy, and daresay, it suited his rather sharp appearance.

Was this stranger awake this whole time that you were gawking at him under the dim light? Your ears turn even a brighter shade of pink. Was it just the heater or was this room getting hotter than it should be?

Yet despite your flustered state though, he thankfully remains oblivious, “Are you feeling any better?” he asks.

Despite his bland facial expression, there was a certain warmth in his tone and that made your heart beat quicken. It wasn’t everyday that you’d wake up to find a good looking older gentleman next to you after all, “I’m good…” You shyly replied, the confidence you had moments ago while you were cursing him was gone when you heard his soft tone, “I- sorry but who are you? What happened?”

He stares at you for a moment and purses his lips, “Nanami Kento.” he introduces himself briefly. From the likes of it, he seemed like a professional, “To be honest, I don’t have much recollection from last night due to the alcohol. When I woke up a few moments ago, you wouldn’t let go and I had no choice but to lay there and wait for you to wake up.”

You paled just a bit at his explanation and turned bright red right after, how embarrassing! Not only did you just embarrass yourself in front of this older gentleman awhile ago, you did something so unlike you last night! Thank god this ojisan was a lot more calmer than you. He didn’t even look that perplexed or annoyed by your state at all.

He runs his hands through his soft blonde hair after and lets out a low groan.

“D-Does your head hurt, Nanami-san?”

“Yes.”

“I-would you-” you tried to stammer a few words out yet you're immediately cut off by his phone ringing.

Right, boundaries. You shouldn’t overstep them since you already did so much last night to disturb him despite you two being so out of it. You watch him as he answers his cell phone in a quick and suave manner, all traces of hungover gone, “Nanami speaking.” He greets as soon as he answers the call, “I understand. Please try to help them out and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

He ends the call and stands up, tightening his tie. Despite him spending the night here, he still looked orderly and it’s so unfair because right now, you knew you looked like absolute shit with the alcohol and booze in your system.

“I have to take my leave now. I apologize for intruding.” he bows down formally.

You’re pretty sure you were the one who intruded, his actions makes you immediately stand up despite the throbbing headache which was definitely a wrong move because the moment you did, you felt your legs giving out.

Great.

“I-sorry, I would bow…” You tried to stammer out an apology, ears bright red once again, just how much could you embarrass yourself in front of this gentleman?  “Sorry for the intrusion too Nanami-san.”

He leaves without saying anything much to your relief and as soon as you hear your front door close, you scream right at the pillow.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You muffled at the pillow.

Thank God you wouldn’t be seeing him ever again!

“L/N-sensei.”

You turn to find Maki and Megumi standing there, they were members of a rather elite family in Tokyo, Most often you avoided bumping shoulders with Megumi’s father since he was, well, quite a tease and although you do admit that Toji Zen’in is a very good-looking and fine man from a very good background, you couldn’t look past the fact that you taught his kids mathematics and there was a good fifteen year age gap between you two, “Hi there.” A warm smile dances on your lips, “Is this about the earlier math problem again?”

The question was directed to Maki, Megumi wasn’t one to ask questions about his lessons since he wasn’t fond of academics.

“Actually, it isn’t. Toji-ojisan says you should come to his birthday.” Maki shrugged, “He says his 40th birthday wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t there.”

Ah, that’s why Megumi didn’t want to go alone. The young boy’s cheeks are painted pink, clearly embarrassed by his father’s antics, “Ah,” You laughed, trying to play it cool. Despite his father’s relentless teasing, he had never made you feel uncomfortable. If he hadn’t been asking you out a few times, you’d consider him a friend, “Your otosan does love to joke around a lot doesn’t he, Megumi-kun?”

“I could deck him for you if you’d like, sensei. I swear that old man needs to realize that you’re way too young and good for him.” He mumbles the last part, clearly annoyed.

“Oh have you gotten married, L/N-sensei?” Maki cuts her younger cousin off suddenly, clearly surprised, “I thought you never had a boyfriend..or girlfriend...or a lover…”

“I- excuse me?” You sweatdrop, “Married, where?”

“Am I mistaken? You have a silver band on your ring finger at your left hand.” Maki points out, “Congrats sensei! It seems like Toji-ojisan won’t be bothering you anymore!”

You were too much in a frazzled state this morning that you hadn’t even noticed the ring band on your finger. You weren’t married, heck, you haven’t dated since college but where in the hell did you get this ring?

“L/N-san?” You’re snapped back to reality by a coworker, “We have two new enrollees, would you mind handling them since they’ll be added to your section?”

“Right,” You smile, “That’s my cue to leave. I’ll get going now. Enjoy your snack time.”

Before Maki could say anything more about the silverband on your ring finger, you scurried away to the faculty room, shaking that weird feeling off since you had to get back to work. 

Job first, ring later.

As you went in, two abnormally bleached pink hair stood out and you could immediately tell that they were going to be the new kids that you’d be teaching. You walk closer, realizing how much they looked alike despite the markings on the other.

“Hi, Good morning.” You greeted kindly, “You must be the new kids.”

“Ah,” the one with tattoo markings on his face gloated, “Aren’t you too bright?”

“Sukuna, shut up.” his twin frowned, “Sorry Sensei, My brother isn’t feeling so well since our ojisan had told us off before going to school.”

It seemed like the other twin would be a handful, nevertheless, you were still going to be his teacher so you let out a small smile, “It’s fine.” You waved off, “We all have bad days, don’t we? I’m L/N-sensei and I’ll be your homeroom and math teacher.”

“Hai.” The one without tattoos replied, enthusiasm leaking on his tone, “Itadori Yuuji and this is Itadori Sukuna, please take care of us.”

You watch Yuuji force his twin to bow down to show a sign of respect. For a high schooler, Sukuna and Yuuji’s parents seemed so lax, bleached hair and tattoos? That was definitely a first one on your list. You take a look at the data they passed and a small frown settles on your lips, it seemed like you had to take back the words you said earlier.

Both their parents had died a few years ago.

You cleared your throat and tried to put on the smile and enthusiasm from earlier, “I’ll be sure to introduce you to the class right after break and since it’s your first day I’ll be lax but please try not to go in late again.”

Yuuji’s grin remains the same as he agrees enthusiastically while Sukuna still looks mildly uninterested, something that you realize oh-so quickly that you’ll have to get used to.

After introducing the twins to the class, you settle on your desk at the faculty and peer at the ring on your finger. The only conclusion you could come up with was that this was from the older gentleman from the night before but why would he even give you a ring?

It didn’t even look cheap and it was surprisingly just your size, meaning it was definitely for you.

You inwardly let out a groan as you placed your hand on top of your eyes. God, you definitely needed to lay off the alcohol next time. You feel the phone in your pocket start to ring, peerlessly glancing at the unknown number. People really need to lay off the scam calls.

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m not-”

“Yo-ho, is this Y/N-chan?” The voice on the other line is so unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time.

“Uh, who is this?”

“Is your husband with you?” the voice sounds so playful and teasing that you almost ignore what he had just said earlier.

“E-Excuse me?” You sputtered out, cheeks turning red, “I don’t have a husband.”

“Huh…” the playful voice switches to disappointment, “Don’t tell me you forgot what happened with us last night, L/N-chan.”

You feel something bubbling on your stomach, oh no, this definitely didn’t sound good!

“I- wait, what? who are you? What do you mean? what happened?” countless of questions started to pile up in your head and out of your mouth, panic immediately engulfing you because for a prank call this guy sounded way too legit, confirming your irresponsibility the night before. 

“Silly Y/N-chan. How could you ever forget me? I’m such an important person! I’m Gojo Satoru, your witness from your wedding!” 

taglist (if crossed out, i cant tag u im so sorry ack ;-;)

 ; @coldbookworm  ; @frankenstein852  ;  @neavil​  ; @shephard17895​   @kristineyoshaii​ ; @airybnb​​

@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ;    ; ​

[brawltogethernow]

@mirrorfalls​ submitted: Came across this while searching for James Bond’s scrambled-eggs recipe (long story). Your thoughts?

~~

But did you find James Bond’s scrambled eggs recipe?

In this article, Scocca laments his inability to find accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable to read with his young son, while also demonstrating a mysterious aversion to looking at DC and Marvel’s lines of comics for children, which is where the accessible, lighthearted superhero comics suitable for reading with young children are. He wants his elementary schooler to be able to safely have the run of all superhero media so he doesn’t have to touch the yucky baby books.

This is not an industry-wide crisis. This is just one dude who got paid to write an article where he accidentally exposed one of his personal hangups.

The child headed toward the trade paperbacks of Marvel and D.C. superhero titles on the side wall […] a few steps in front of me. […] Is he with you? a clerk asked me. I said he was. You know, the clerk said, we have a kids’ section. The clerk gestured backward, at a few shelves near the entrance. I said, Thanks, we know and tried throwing in a little shrug, as the kid kept going.

You can’t just turn a seven-year-old child loose in a comic-book store to look at the superhero comic books. […] My seven-year-old really wanted to see that last Avengers movie […] that is, he wished it were a movie he could see, but he understood that it was, instead, a movie designed to scare and sadden him—a movie actively hostile to people like him.

They have a children’s section. Because comics are a medium suitable for stories for everybody, and they are sold in comic book shops, which have sections, like bookstores. You can use this organization to find books that you know in advance are suitable for children. What goes in that category is determined by industry professionals. This area will be bigger the bigger the shop is. These comics are not lower quality that titles from the main lines. They are actually slightly better-written on average.

Your local comic book shop has considerately wrapped Empowered in a plastic bag, so your child will not be drawn in by a colorful superhero and accidentally read a graphic scene. If you think your kid might find a memoir about internment camps upsetting, it is your job to notice them picking up They Called Us Enemy and read the blurb on the back before you let them have it. This comic adults are meant to read is in a comic book shop because that is where comics are sold. Not every public place is supposed to be Disneyland.

Movies have ratings systems. If you do not want your child to watch a PG-13 movie, you will find that most superhero cartoons are for children. They are about the same characters. Some are quite good! I really enjoyed Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Your child may like Avengers Assemble. At least I think that’s right. I’m always mixing those titles around.

This is a deeply weird bias for Scocca to casually demonstrate, because he identifies in the article that real childishness is striving for empty maturity.

He compares an old comic,

[…]a 1966 Spider-Man comic in which Spider-Man meets, fights, and defeats the Rhino; participates in a running argument between John Jameson and J. Jonah Jameson about his heroism; buys a motorcycle; breaks up with his first girlfriend, Betty Brant; flirts with Gwen Stacy; and reluctantly agrees to let Aunt May take him to meet her friend Mrs. Watson’s niece, Mary Jane.

and a new comic,

[…]a 21st century comic book in which Thor, brooding in a Katrina-destroyed New Orleans, beats up Iron Man. He also yells at Iron Man a lot about some incomprehensibly convoluted set of grievances, including involuntary cloning, that he believes Iron Man perpetrated against him while he was dead(?), and then summons some other Norse god from the beyond somehow for reasons having something to do with real estate. I think. Where the 1966 comic is zippy and fun and complete, the whole contemporary one is muddled and lugubrious and seems to constitute a tiny piece of a seemingly endless plot arc—simultaneously apocalyptic and inert.

and concludes that the edgier comic is actually less mature. This is true. (This is not news about mediocre comics.)

It also has nothing to do with either comic being child-friendly, the article’s nominal thesis, except in the sense that ASM #41 (yes, I eyeballed that from that summary, yes I am just showing off now) is better written, making it more everyone-friendly. It also has practically more space dedicated to word balloons than art and is about a college student juggling girl problems and a part-time job with a tyrannical boss. But the immature one, as Scocca points out, is dour.

These are both teenagery issues, separated only by quality. It’s true that lots of new comics published by the big 2 are bad in the specific way Scocca describes here, taking themselves too seriously and hauled down by associated stories instead of buoyed by them. Some are not! Some titles from these companies’ main continuities are zippy, contained, and child friendly. Give your child The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl! Or if you like vintage comics so much better, why don’t you…buy some?

The books on the kid’s rack are good and fun and totally suitable for parents to read with their children without wanting to scoop their eyeballs out. Scocca cites the Batman ‘66 comics as the brightly colored, tightly written all ages solution to his problem about sharing superhero stories with his son. My local comic shop stores this title in the kid’s section. I am glad that Scocca’s does not, as he seems to have a peculiar aversion to looking for comics to read with his son there.

Scocca cites Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse as a superhero movie he could watch with his kids. (I was surprised when this line made it sound like he has several. I don’t want to assume the other one isn’t in this article because they’re a girl, but I very much am assuming that.) Great! Go to the kid’s section and look for Marvel Adventures: Spider-Man. It’s a fun, zippy title directly inspired by ITSV where Miles, Gwen, and Peter superhero together. It’s much more tightly written than most of the various Spider-Verse comics, which are ambitiously messy ubercrossovers. You may not want to give those to children because they include murder and so on, but also you just have the choice between the two as an adult reader deciding how much continuity you want to deal with. Adventures is one of the only titles I would buy on sight before corona. The kid comic rack is a reliable place to take a break from How Comics Get Sometimes regardless of how old you are.

This article makes me feel quarrelsome. Maybe it’s that it doesn’t seem like exploration of a single idea so much as a loosely grouped bundle of things to kvetch about. Maybe it’s that the experience of getting into superheroes that Scocca describes experiencing, projects his seven-year-old son will experience, and from which he extrapolates a metaphorical microcosm of the history of the genre is completely alien to me.

Comic books [and] comic-book movies—are […] trapped in their imagined audience’s own awful passage from childhood to adolescence. A seven-year-old has a clean […] appreciation of superheroes. They like hero comics because the comics have heroes: bold, strong, vividly colored good guys to fight off the bad guys and make the world safe.

But seven-year-olds stop being seven. […] They become 13-year-olds, defensively trying to learn how to develop tastes about tastes.

The 13-year-old wants many things from comics, but the overarching one is that they want to prove that they’re not some seven-year-old baby anymore. They want gloomy heroes, miserable heroes, heroes who would make a seven-year-old feel bad. (Also boobs. They want boobs.)

Not because of the boobs line, although that does illicit an eyeroll that this gloomy thinkpiece is fretting over preserving the superhero experience of little boys who resemble the little boy the writer was while casually dismissing everyone else. I was one of those unlikable little seven-year-olds with a college reading level and the impression that maintaining it was the crux of my worth. I only read Books - distinguished media you could club someone with. I have a formative memory of pausing, enraptured, in front of a poster for Spider-Man 3, preparing to say that it looked pretty cool, and being beaten to the punch by my mother making a disparaging comment about how the movie was trash. It wasn’t out yet, but it was a superhero movie. That meant it was for loud, brainless children.

That was the total of my childhood experience with superheroes, excluding being the unwilling audience to incessant renditions of “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” that left me wondering why in god’s name Batman’s sidekick was named Robin. I certainly never visited a comic book shop. I got into TvTropes, which got me into webcomics, which got me following David Willis, who got me into Ask Chris at ComicsAlliance, which led to me rewarding myself for studying like a demon for the AP tests with three volumes of Waid’s Daredevil, pitched as a return to the character being colorful and swashbuckling. I was seven…teen.

This is of the same thread as Scocca’s point that immaturity is running from childish things. It leaves me baffled that he doesn’t follow that maturity is embracing them.

I will disclose here that while I think it was dumb I had to overcome my upbringing’s deeply embedded shame associated with enjoying arbitrarily defined lowbrow media and children being childish, I think it’s fine that I was allowed largely unchecked access to technically age-inappropriate content. In my limited experience, content small children are too young for is also content they’re too young to understand, so it kind of just bounces off of them, and what actually ends up terrorizing them is unpredictable collages of impressions that strike out at them from content deemed perfectly child-friendly. I would not forbid a seven-year-old I was in charge of from seeing an MCU movie unless I had a reason to believe that specific child would not take it well. These are emotionally low-stakes bubblegum films. It will probably be easier to socialize with other kids if they have seen them.

But then, when I picture being in charge of a hypothetical child, I usually imagine this being the case because they are related to me, and the pupal stage in my family strongly resembles Wednesday Addams. ALL children love death and violence, though, right?? This isn’t a joke point. I know it looks like a joke point.

The MCU thing seems especially weird in light of the article’s particular focus on Spider-Man, which is the kiddie line of the MCU, even if they refused to waver from their usual formula enough to get a lower rating. Though I am more inclined to describe it as “preying on the young” than “child-friendly”.

(MCU movies are increasingly dubious propaganda, but I would not judge them in front of a child who wanted to watch them for that reason, just in case this led to them partaking of them without me the second they were old enough to and then they grew up to run a blog about them while our relationship suffered because they didn’t feel like it was safe to talk to me about their interests…Mom.)

I tried to overcome the philosophy of letting anyone read anything while compiling this handful of mostly-newish superhero recs for the road that anyone can read. (Handily, I have been in spitting distance of being hired as a comic shop clerk enough to have thought about it before):

For actual children:

Marvel Adventures Spider-Man (the new one is reminiscent of ITSV, the old one is more like 616) any DC/Archie crossover, Archie’s Superteens The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl (for bookish children who think they’re too good for comics and adults afraid of the kid’s section) Teen Titans Go (even if you hate the show) Superman Smashes the Klan

For teens:

Ms. Marvel Young Avengers (volume 2) Unbelievable Gwenpool Batman: Gotham Adventures Teen Titans Go (the tie-in comic based off the old show was also called this)

Here are a bunch of relevant C. S. Lewis quotes.

[amazingphilza]

study buddies :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some headcanons if the mcyts were trying to help you do hw :D

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

tommyinnit

i feel like he’s the type to be in a long discord call with you whilst you both try to finish your work

mans uses the screensharing feature like there’s no tomorrow

“y/n watch my stream on discord and help me guess the answers”

“tommy no! i haven’t even taken a film class before”

“your guess is good as mine”

“just cheat and google the answers!!!”

“fuck you”

he actually just wants your attention because he’s bored out of his mind doing homework

five minutes later of asking you to help him guess questions he’s like

“hey y/n”

“what now?”

“let’s play bedwars”

“oh my god shut up!!!”

if tommy has to speedrun something before a deadline, it is a whole different story tho; he will be so focused on completing that he won’t hear what you’re saying

if you’re struggling in math, you’re on your own

“math is shit, only numbers i need is my primes and youtube analytics” says tommy any time you complain about math

besides the fact he isn’t good at solving math problems, you can’t even read his handwriting if he did try showing you how to do a problem

“okay, y/n, it’s simple, just look” he says in his kareninnit voice and everything

you’d be like “is the variable a G or a 9??”

“fuck you that’s a 4!!!”

tubbo

i don’t know if tubbo ever talked about school before but something about him makes me think he’s actually pretty good at math

like he can explain a few things when it comes to math / algebra

CODING GO BRRRR

no geometry or calculus though, anything past algebra will go bad

if tubbo is doing homework with you, he will definitely tune you out

“hey tubbo can you help me on this question?”

you don’t get a response until like 20 minutes later

“oh yeah, what was it y/n?”

like now you answer? i just got the answer myself after so long, forget you smh

“oh nothing tubbo, nevermind!”

but you’re still grumbling in your head because if he answered just a bit earlier you wouldn’t have gone through the work of finding the answer online

i can also imagine if you’re taking chemistry tubbo is like ;

“oh you’re taking chemistry? let’s make some bombs!” /lh

tubbo would definitely pull an all-nighter with you to finish your projects together

if you had a group project, he would make you do the writing part while he does the drawing part

“we definitely aced this project”

“of course we did, if i made you draw we would’ve ended up with stick figure diagrams”

“TUBBO. THE FUCK?”

ranboo

okay i know ranboo said he isn’t a theatre or band kid (unless im wrong and forgetful) but i feel like he’d be somewhat educated in the topics nonetheless

half the time he’s great moral support, helping you stay motivated !

the other half is him making fun of you

“i cant believe you’re failing, that is so sad, can’t be me”

“it’s literally an honors class, ranboo! it’s supposed to be hard!!”

“taking an honors class willingly? also cant be me AHAHA”

i honestly can’t see ranboo going to school like i know he’s a minor and said he had zoom calls before and plays volleyball but like did i miss something? has he dropped out yet? like something about ranboo does not scream “student” /lh

besides that, i’m not sure what subject he would actually be good in,,, but something about nutrition/health sciences,, he knows a few things

don’t get me wrong, i don’t think he actually likes the subject but somehow remembers what he learned from the class

also gives me the type of energy of the type of person to take a first aid class to be a certified person to do cpr on someone just to kill time during his lunch breaks for a while or something

“i am a certified cpr person”

“my life in ranboo’s hands? oh god please no”

you two would probably joke about the ‘bad’ people in your classes or talk shit about your schools than actually doing anything homework related ngl AHAHAH

“you think your school is down bad? mine went back to campus full time after like 6 months into quarantine because they were running out of money”

“what the hell y/n? your school is a scam, drop out”

“arghhhh i knowww”

“i bet i make more money than your teachers combined AHAHAH”

wilbur soot

he doesn’t seem like the best person to ask for help for homework but can info dump you on very specific historical events + a bit of geography

i kinda see him as the person you can ask to proof read an essay for you and would help it improve immensely

who needs a thesaurus when you have vocabulary boy wilbur?

i dunno if it’s an american thing only or at all, but if/when you get to studying hamilton in your english class, he will get so fucking excited

“no wilbur it isn’t fun! imagine listening to lin-manuel miranda rap ‘alexander hamilton’ at the white house from like 2009 on repeat for over an hour whilst trying to write an analysis about it!! it was so distracting”

“well clearly someone has a personal problem with mr lin-manuel. if i were you, i’d be singing the whole thing”

is this last bit personal and complete spite from my freshman year english class? yes. i do not care? no. /hj

unrelated but i actually scribbled nice guy ballad lyrics and other songs on my english scratch papers in freshman year but anyway

probably isn’t the best person to be in a call to do homework with but wilbur doesn’t mind you ringing him occasionally sometimes

i dunno i can just see him easily get bored of the silence or something but also doesn’t want to bother you too much

but he is genuinely proud of you whenever you tell him you aced a big test you were studying for :D

philza

this man’s bad advice is as bad as him trying to help you on any subject

he’s an old man so /hj

but like honestly, he hasn’t been at school for so long, phil can probably only help with the most basic things when it comes to school

if you have a wack teacher that makes you collect data through surveying people, phil would be one of the best people to ask! straightforward and won’t take too much of your time compared to other people ahem,,

statistics things ! sobs

if you ever complain a lot about your classes and contemplating dropping out and stuff, he will def scold you hard

“ugh phillllllllll can i just like,, never go to school again?”

“do not drop out”

“argh fine, i won’t just ‘cause philza minecraft said so”

honestly if you get a high score in a big test like your sats/gcse’s (whatever you’re taking from wherever you are) he’d probably order you a small meal or something to celebrate :D

like how phil bought ranboo bought him food to his house, it would start as a joke but when you get your test scores back he’s like “YOOO GOOD JOB Y/N”

expect a left meat pizza coming to your house .

technoblade

like wilbur, techno is also helpful when it comes to history!

def knows a decent bit of literature too

besides that i don’t really see him being that helpful

even if he was supposed to be an english major

he will just get mad at the school system for teaching you useless things

“being in school is good but why do you need to know how to know if something is a triangle or not? i can obviously see with my eyes that it’s a triangle”

“i dunno! ask the person that made up geometry”

“just look at a kaleidoscope and be over with it, it isn’t that hard”

“that isn’t how it works—”

“bruhhh”

if you’re looking for the person to call while doing homework, he is not the person /lh

it’s either like 0 or 100 with techno

he can just completely not say anything and ignore you or go on a full rant about whatever class or homework you have

if you have an essay you need written, it will take a lot of bribing but he might take the opportunity if you are rich

“techno i’ll paypal you $10 please help me”

“no. i can make 10 times that amount in 5 minutes if i just started streaming right now”

“techno i don’t have that kind of money! pleaseee”

“no. instead of complaining, you can use that time to actually start you work”

“you’re the worst”

then you speedrun the essay and get an A just to spite him

[octopus-reactivated]

Title me Miss

You remember Decima? If not, here she is.

Tw/cw: Pet whump. legal slavery, stress position, maybe? low self-esteem, dehumanisation, unreliable narrator, derogatory language

__________

The cage was small, much smaller than cages usually used in stores. He had to bend while kneeling. His back hurt and he wanted to lay down, curl up on cold floor, but then he wouldn't be able to get at kneeling position fast, and if someone would look at him, and see he isn't even kneeling, then he won't be bought and taken to new home and new Master and it’s not like his chances were high to begin with.

He had to stay in this uncomfortable position. Of course stupid Pet like him deserved anything better, anyway.

__________

That's bad - thought Paparazzi realising the celebrity saw her taking a photo of him. Except that she wasn't a paparazzi, and he wasn't a celebrity.

Caretaker quickly turned around trying to walk away without getting into a confrontation. It was most likely that she would be able to get away, and even if man would demand to delete photos, she already switched memory cards, so the evidence was safe.

She took a glance into a reflective surface. Yep. Mr. Politician was following her, and even pointed at her. Rude. She hid behind the nearest corner, taking her jacket off. Then she hopped into the closest shop and got wig off - good thing she actually decided to start using them. She walked into the furthest part of the shop, hiding clothing, wig and camera in a bag and done! Caretaker can be a different person now! It took her 15 seconds no more. Still far away from a perfect time of 7 seconds, but most likely 15 seconds would be enough.

Caretaker calmed herself down, and crunched behind a cage

And then she saw where she was. A “Pet” shop. She realised There was a human in a cage, and he looked at her with hopeful eyes. Oh no. She suddenly felt guilty. She never was brave enough to go after a big company. Did this combination of events happen to show her what happens to people because she refuses to take action... Even if this action is just spying on corrupted politicians?

She will have to pull herself together and inform Justin she's ready to hunt down big fish.

Caretaker stayed a little longer, until she decided it was safe to go. She stood up and at that moment a man in a cage whimpered. She looked at the boy. He had teary eyes. Was it because she didn't want to buy him? Why would anyone be sad for not getting bought? Maybe Pets were punished when someone decided to leave them? It made no sense, but common sense probably got beaten out of them. Whatever it was, the boy was authentically sad.

"I'm just... looking at the description, don't worry" she sent him a reassuring smile. What the what was she doing? She's not here to buy anything? Maybe she would be able to steal him? No, she's a simple photographer playing spy, not a thief. And THAT would be illegal, and she can't have a criminal record. Caretaker looked at papers glued to the board over the cage. Age, physical attributes, placing of scars, training facility, 'one previous owner' note, price - cheaper than she would expect for a human being- what he was trained to, blablabla...

"Interested in-" without thinking, she turned around and punched the owner of a voice in the stomach. He bent in half. Only then she realised it was one of the employees.

"I'm so sorry i didn't mean to hurt you, you terrified me" she apologised quickly, and she meant it. She really was sorry for punching an innocent person. Oh wait, this guy works at Pet store. Nevermind, she's not sorry. Unless that would make a fuss and affect her reputation. Then maybe a little.

Employee straighten up

"You're stronger than you look like" He said, quite impressed.

"Thank you. I didn't meant to use that strength on you"

"No problem, it was my fault anyway. I tend to walk quiet" He said, but to be honest it sounded a little forced. Later on he will trash talk about her to his friends for sure. "Anyway i was meant to ask if you're interested in this Pet"

"Well, I am considering... "

"We also have many others here, or you can visit our website and..."

"No thank you... I think… I think I will talk to my friend, he's like 78% of my impulse control. I will be back in a few minutes."

"Of course if you want to discuss it with someone..." Employee looked disappointed, but he also didn't want to come out as pushy, so he didn't stop her.

When she was walking away Pet sniffed, and an employee kicked cage saying something angrily. He switched from servile to cruel in seconds. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting. She will stop this. But first she had to make a call.

__________

Pet was waiting, hoping for the impossible, and then- then someone walked in and looked at him! Mistress with exotic blue hair! She was looking at him! Maybe she will pet him and decide he looks adorable and take him? He tried so hard to look cute!

Of course it wasn't enough. Mistress stood up. Why would she want a disgusting, horrible Pet like him? He whimpered and shut up immediately. He didn't get permission to make a sound. Bad, untrained Pet.

"I'm just looking at the description, don't worry," Lady said. Of course, you stupid mutt. Humans won't just decide by looking at face, they would want to know... all those important stuff written in his document, that he was to stupid to understeand.

One of the Masters came and talked to Lady... but she just punched him! And the Master was in pain, but still didn't get mad... Did it mean that Lady was so cruel she wanted to hurt even other humans and powerful enough to get away with this? Pet trembled.

Master tried to convince her to purchase one of Pets, him or some other, that was less useless, bu the Lady apparently didn't liked anything, so she used banal excuse even dumb Pet was able to look through and left.

He tried not to cry.

Master kicked his cage.

"Can't you even try to be less hopeless?" he said angry

__________

"Justin, my beloved, my light, my braincell and my source of income i need your advice"

Sigh.

"What is this time?"

"So I was doing as you said, and you were right, they really met and there was a third man with them, and I got photos, but he saw me and..."

"Did you lose evidence?"

"Nah, don't worry it's safe like a baby in your mother's arms. The thing is I had to flee and I went into the first open store and there was Pet and he looked so sad, and I have to take him now, but..."

"I see, do you want me to gently sway you from making decisions you already know it's bad, or do you look for my genuine opinion about your capability of taking care of a pet with your job?"

"No no no no no. You misunderstood me. It was A Pet. And I want to take him, because I'm afraid they will beat him to death if i don't but I also don't want to give them my money. I don't want to contribute to the system, but stealing is bad and I don't know what to do anymore."

"Okay. Okay, wait a moment i need to think about it for second"

"Okay"

"Alright, I have an idea: big companies like that always have some dirt. So do like this: go to this store and buy him casually, but look for old ventilation, unsafely placed things or anything. Note that and take photos if you can, and we will later snitch on them for WHS violation or something"

"Okay. Thank you i knew i could count on you"

__________

Pet was kneeling in the cage. He could have a new home by now if only he wouldn't be so disgusting. The last customer was really scary, and cruel and even she didn't want such an awful Pet. He tried not to cry. Crying wasn't cute and he had to look cute even if it was pointless.

Then he heard quick angry footsteps. The blue-haired lady was back. What did it mean?

"I'M TAKING HIM!" She shouted. She had fire in her eyes. It took all of Pet's strength not to move away to the back of the cage.

She will buy him, and she was angry, maybe because the pet was scared of her, or maybe her Friend failed to control her impulse, or maybe it was something different, but the Pet will pay for that.

He was scared, but he will take all the pain if she would want him, please he wants to be wanted, even if it doesn't matter what he wants, take him away, he will be good...

Master rushed and took Lady to the back, where the documents were signed. Pet glued eyes to the doors. She still can change her mind when she will look deeper and realise how bad and ill-trained animal he is.

Or maybe she would like to have a broken animal to train up to herself? Was it about it?

__________

"Here are all his files. We have to make sure you had read them, especially the last page"

"Sure, give me some time"

"Also if you have any questions, i'm here to help"

"I don't have any..." she said, but then the idea hit her "actually, do you have any more detailed record of his training?"

"We do have records for all our pets, but we can show them only to the owner. We can email them right after purchase. They're quite large"

"Works for me" She said. Maybe the records will say more about his conditioning, and help with recovery. Anyway it won't do harm if she will have them.

Now onto reading stuff she will sign. Make sure the company won’t hide anything in small print.

It took longer than she would like to admit and hopefully she understood all the words just right… There was one page left.

There was something about being "ready to handle" and "responsiblebleble..." and

oh

Employee must have seen that she got to that part.

That part... changed the light she looked at the boy.

And she hesitated for a moment.

“May… may i know the circumstances of an incident?” she asked

__________

Master- no, the former Master now opened a cage and threw him on the ground. Pet felt his shoulder hit the hard floor and he holded cry in .

"Looks like you got purchased after all. Unbelievable. Ayway, how long do you think it will take for you to mess up and get returned?" former Master said. Pet was stupid, yes, and he had trouble learning rules but he knew that he can't break them now, and he wasn't allowed to speak

"Answer me you dumb Pet"

now that was an order

"A- a month maybe?"

"Ha! you aim high. I doubt you will be able to last two weeks"

Pet didn't want to go back at all, but if the former Master says he won't be able to enjoy new home for longer than two weeks then it was true. He had to bear Mutt for so long!

He took off one collar and put on another. It was so soft, softer than a pet ever had. Finally he grabbed him by the shoulder he felt on and took to the new owner.

"See you soon," former Master whispered to Pet.

And there she was. New owner. The scary Lady. Pet trembled.She didn’t clipped a leash or grab him by hair, instead she put her arm around him. Didn't she want him to have even this piece of freedom? Or was she afraid he would try to run away? He won't, he will be good and Pet hoped he would be allowed to speak to tell he will be good. But he wasn't allowed so he just quietly walked by her side. He couldn't crawl with her holding him, will he be punished for walking on legs like a human?

They walked outside. The sun was so nice, and the air was fresh. But he knew it was not to enjoy, he wasn't allowed to enjoy those things.

"We will have to wait here for a while. My friend - the one I mentioned before - will give us a ride. Anyway, what's your name?"

Was he tested already? He knew how to follow rules, he could follow them...

Owner looked at him in scary silence

"Oh. I forgot. You can speak. I wouldn't ask if i didn't expected any answer"

Oh no. Oh no no, they didn't even get home, and he disappointed Owner already.

"I don't have any name, Mast- Mistress"

“Hmm well then how did the.. shop employees call you then?”

“Disgusting, Mutt, Dirty…”

"That won’t work. We have to give you a real name. And you can call me by mine. I'm Decima. 'Mistress' sounds like some annoying character from a historical drama. But if you feel uncomfortable without honorifics then you can title me 'Miss'. But I prefer to be referred to by name, okay?"

"Yes, Miss Decima"