#this is what happens when the boss brings his daughter to the war meetings

[autistic-bunny]

Maki: Alright, listen up you little shits. Maki: Not you Yin. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #2

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: Did I say two parts? I meant three lol. (It got too long, I’m sorry.) 

Word Count: 4,300 Tags/Warnings: Angst, supernatural shenanigans, death…

Bonus Track #2: One Last Hunt

“Okay, try not to panic,” Sam said. Dean had him on the phone while he sped through town in the Impala. 

“I’m coming now, but I won’t get there for a few hours,” Sam said. “My flight leaves in 20 minutes.”

“Thanks, man, but I can’t afford to wait,” Dean said. “She fucking disappeared. I don’t see her anywhere…I’m gonna have to start at her job. That’s where she first took off from.”

“How did she seem this morning?”

“Fine, I guess. I left before she woke up,” Dean said. He still felt guilty about the fact that he didn’t bother waking you up to say goodbye. 

“Okay, yeah, start at the museum,” Sam said. “Let me know what you find, and I’d loop in Bobby. Probably Jack too.”

“Bobby’s meeting me there…but we don’t need to bring in Jack yet.”

“Dean, he’s her dad—”

“This isn’t his thing. It’s ours,” Dean said firmly. “If it’s a demon, I’m gonna find her and exorcize that son of a bitch.”

Sure enough, Bobby met Dean at the museum where you worked. The old man was worried, Dean could tell, even if he wouldn’t say it. But he knew the drill: now they had a job to do.

“I’ll go in first, flash my badge,” Dean said. “Meet me in the library.”

“Roger that,” Bobby agreed. 

Dean had a decent rapport with your boss, Jerry. When he explained that you were actually missing, Jerry was concerned for your wellbeing instead of irate that you’d taken a very valuable book from the museum. 

It gave Dean a theory to lie about on the fly: that you’d been mugged and taken hostage, presumably by someone who might’ve wanted to steal the ancient text. 

“How ancient are we talking exactly?” Dean asked.

Jerry gave him a look. “Ancient Egypt.”

He showed you the inventory log on the new shipment you were supposed to compile into the system. The title missing from the rest was called The Eye of Ra. 

“All right. Thanks, Jerry,” Dean said. “Anything else you can tell me about this book?”

“It’s a recording of the great deeds of the Ancient Egyptian gods and goddesses,” Jerry explained. “It was said to be touched by Ra himself.”

Touched by Ra, Dean mused. Ain’t that just fucking swell. 

Whatever happened to you, Dean knew it was because you touched that book.

For the next few hours, Dean and Bobby worked together on deeper research in the library. Now that they had a starting point, Bobby was able to find some intel. 

“The Eye of Ra was actually a nickname,” he said, earning Dean’s attention. “For Sekhmet, their goddess of war.”

Dean’s brows furrowed at that. “Why’s it never the goddess of peace and fucking tranquility?”

“Among other things, she was the daughter of Ra,” Bobby said, raising a wry brow. “And she was known as the bringer of plagues and death…and sometimes healing. Go figure.”

Fucking hell, Dean thought sourly. This was getting worse by the minute. 

“Okay, what does this have to do with the book?” he asked. Though he had some idea.

“Well, she ain’t been alive in a millennium. But she had a husband. The god Ptah, a craftsman,” Bobby said. “According to this, when he was eventually killed, she sealed her soul away until she could find a way to rescue him from the underworld…I’ve gotta think she sealed it in that book.”

Dean sighed, rubbing the now aching spot between his brows. An ancient Egyptian goddess was most likely possessing his fiancé. 

And it was much worse than it sounded on paper.

“Okay, which means she’ll be looking for a way to bring back her husband,” he said. “So how do we find her?” 

Just then, the police radio buckled to Dean’s belt sounded off. When he listened closely, his eyes grew wide. It was a report of five murders committed at a nearby gas station. 

Dean pulled up to the local 7-Eleven. Bobby was on the way, but he’d been caught up in traffic while Dean was allowed to use his police siren to his advantage. 

He then used his badge clearance to get behind the yellow tape and over to Jack, who was still on duty. 

Dean stepped inside the gas station and surveyed the brutal scene: the nice old man who owned the place, plus four patrons were lying dead. 

Their skin was covered with boils.

Jack wore a disconcerted frown along with his crossed arms in his police jacket. 

“It’s almost…biblical,” he remarked. 

Dean knew just how right he was. Jack seemed to know that too when he glanced over.

“Is this your kind of thing?” he asked. 

Dean nodded. “I might know what’s going on here. Let’s check the security footage…but no one else can see it but you and me.”

Jack nodded, leading Dean to the back of the store. Jack was shocked by what he found in the footage. Dean watched grimly, but not surprised as you came into the frame. You tilted your head at the owner, who seemed to ask you something. 

You raised a hand, and with a flare of magic, everyone in the station was cowering and screaming as a plague of boils covered their bodies, and eventually ended their lives. 

“Christ,” Jack gasped. “What the hell—”

“It’s not her,” Dean told him. “She’s being possessed. I’ll handle this, Jack. Just make sure this footage gets buried, along with whatever prints she might’ve left behind.”

Jack barely had time to agree. As if that kind of thing was so easy. He called after Dean as he took off out of the station. 

Dean didn’t see Bobby yet when he got outside, but he didn’t have time to wait. 

However, he did spot someone familiar hanging out in front of the department store across the street. Dean jogged across and raised a hand to flag down Jessie Deluca. 

The kid was gnawing on what looked like a melting Butterfinger. He groaned in annoyance when he saw Dean coming.

“Not you again,” he muttered.

“Yeah, me again,” Dean said. “You been standing out here long?”

“Look, grandpa. I’m just chillin’ here,” the kid sassed. It sparked Dean’s irritation, as well as his impatience.

“I don’t give two shits if you’re contemplating the great Butterfinger Heist of 2008, all right?” Dean pointed back to the gas station. “You see that?”

Jessie’s expression faded from some of its assholeness, becoming more solemn. “Yeah, I heard someone died or something.”

“That’s right,” Dean nodded. “Did you see anyone walk out of the station?”

“No,” Jessie said. But Dean could tell it was a reflex, not the truth. 

“Listen, Jessie. I need your help,” he said, more earnestly. “I’m trying to find someone. So if you know anything, I need you to tell me right now. Please.” 

Dean stared down in the kid’s brown eyes. Eventually, Jessie relented. 

“When I came out of the store here, I saw some business lady walk out. I think, after it had all just gone down,” Jessie confessed. “She looked fine.”

Dean sighed and nodded. “Okay. What’d she look like?”

“Uh…black skirt. Great legs,” Jessie said, his lips curving a little. Dean raised a brow. 

“Anything else?” he asked wryly. 

“White blouse, heels…actually, she kinda looked familiar,” Jessie added as he thought harder about it. 

“Good. Now tell me what direction she went in,” Dean said. Jessie nodded and pointed him down the street. 

“I think she went down there. I saw her turn the corner.”

“Where? What street?” 

“Dude, I don’t know!”

“Then show me,” Dean insisted. He grabbed Jessie by the shoulder and guided him forward. The kid looked annoyed, but he begrudgingly agreed to lead him down the street. The two of them walked brusquely, with Jessie trying to match Dean’s longer strides. 

Dean glanced over at his companion, who was still working on his Butterfinger. 

“When’s the last time you ate something that wasn’t covered in chocolate?” he asked. Jessie didn’t look at him when he shrugged. His winter jacket hung off his skinny shoulders, making him look ten rather than thirteen. Dean’s heart twinged.

“Listen, next time you’re itching to knock over a department store for KitKats, come by the station,” Dean said. “Find me or my partner Jody Mills. Or even my boss, Jack. We’ll get you a burger or something.”

Jessie briefly looked up at him, but all too soon, his gaze returned to the ground. 

“What do you care?” he said. 

“Maybe I know something about having to fend for yourself,” said Dean. “Sometimes going hungry, not knowing when somebody’s gonna come back for you.”

Jessie’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer, but Dean hoped he’d gotten through to him.

Jessie led him around the corner at the street he thought he saw you turn down. He and Dean didn’t have to walk too much farther before he found you through the window of a bakery, of all things. 

“What the hell?” Dean muttered.

He pulled Jessie to the wall by the window for safety, but both of them snuck a peek inside. 

You were once again wielding magic to spread a plague of boils across an entire room of screaming, agonized patrons just trying to get their donuts and cream pies. 

Jessie started to utter a cry of alarm, but Dean quickly covered the kid’s mouth with his hand and pulled him back to his side. Dean waited, stock still, until the screaming inside the bakery subsided.

He looked down at Jessie and raised a finger to his lips. Though he was scared, Jessie nodded. Dean led him around the corner into an alley beside the bakery.  

“What…the fuck was that?” Jessie hissed. 

“Keep your voice down,” Dean warned. 

Then suddenly, it donned on the kid as he looked up at Dean. “Oh, shit. That’s your freakin’ girlfriend.”

Dean let out a sharp sigh. “It’s not her…exactly.”

He knew Jessie didn’t understand. Dean sighed again and grasped Jessie’s shoulders. 

“Look, you’re right to be scared. There’s something evil in there…that’s why I’ve gotta save her,” he said. “Now you, you’re gonna run. And don’t look back until you’re home, got it?”

After a moment, Jessie nodded shakily. Dean nodded back, patting him firmly on his shoulders. 

“Good man,” he said. “Okay, scram.”

Jessie seemed reluctant, like he felt some type of way about leaving Dean behind. But at Dean’s encouraging look, Jessie took off running. Dean hoped he headed straight home.

Then, rolling his shoulders, Dean braced himself. He drew his gun, which was filled with silver bullets. He didn’t think it would work on an Egyptian goddess, nor did he want to pull a gun on you. But for the threat of it alone, he would have to draw it with the safety on. 

He entered the bakery, where you were perusing the selections with a dispassionate look. All around you was death. 

But you perked up when Dean entered, eyeing him curiously in recognition. 

“Feelin’ a snack?” he asked. 

“I have been asleep for a very long time,” you replied, holding up a pastry. “What is this confection?”

“Cherry Danish,” Dean supplied. “You’re Sekhmet, right?” 

Your lips twitched. “You know of me?”

“I do now,” he said, carefully stepping further into the bakery with his gun pointed down, avoiding stepping on the bodies. He noticed the book you left closed on the counter. The goddess saw him noticing. Her gaze cut to him in amusement.

“Why’d you kill these people?” Dean asked. “Didn’t bow down at the right angle?”

“Among all of my brothers and sisters, I alone was favored by my father,” she said, “because my job was to balance the world, between life and the afterlife.”

Sekhmet brushed her fingers against a glass case, and with a small spark of magic, the glass cracked into thousands of fractals, but didn’t shatter. 

“And I did exceedingly well at this,” she said. “Though I see that my work has been undone. This world is rife with imbalance.”

“Mass genocide. Nice,” Dean quipped. “But that’s not all you want, is it?”

Sekhmet’s head tilted at him with reluctant interest. 

“I heard you’re looking for your husband, who went an offed himself,” he added. 

The goddess’s lips pursed and she slapped a hand on the glass counter, making it shatter. Dean turned and shielded his eyes with his arm. By the time he recovered, Sekhmet was coming around the counter. He took a few cautious steps in the opposite direction.

“My husband was unjustly slain by the very people who once worshipped us in droves,” she said, her tone exacting and harsh. Her eyes, however, were heavy with fury and pain. 

“He was an artist. A creator in purest form…his talents were wasted on this abomination of a world,” she said, with disgust at her surroundings. But as soon as her anger came, it diffused into exasperation. 

She picked up a glazed donut and took a bite, crossing her arms. She hummed in delight, making Dean’s brows raise. 

“Well, I can help you find him,” Dean said. It was a bluff, to be sure, but it still earned Sekhmet’s attention.

“Can you?” she asked in amusement. She didn’t believe him. Yet. But she drew closer to Dean, tilting her head just so. All the while, Dean inched towards the far end of the counter where The Eye of Ra had fallen to the ground. 

“And after, you let my girl go,” he said.

“You know of a way to reach the Underworld?” Sekhmet’s gaze roamed over him in disdain. “Unlikely.”

“Well, I’d call it a gate to Hell. But same difference, right?” Dean quipped.

The second he tried to reach down for the book, however, Sekhmet pinned him in place with a vibrant amber coil of magic. Dean grunted as she forced him to the ground, onto his knees between the bodies of a young man and woman, likely a couple. 

The goddess stopped in front of him, looking down at his face with interest. 

“Dean Winchester, as you are called. I understand why you continue to display such reckless judgment, all but throwing your very life at my feet,” she said. Her lips curved knowingly. “I hold your lover, correct?”

She harshly grabbed his cheek in her hand, and Dean glared in response. She seemed to ponder something as she considered him.

“Soon to be your wife,” she realized.

And Dean had a feeling she was in your head, sorting through your thoughts and memories like any demon would. He didn’t know what was worse: the thought of you being awake in there, unable to fight this bitch’s hold, or if Sekhmet had completely taken over your body and shut you away. 

“Just let her go,” Dean said, almost pleading. “You can have me. I won’t even fight you.”

“Such self-sacrifice,” she said. “The only noble act humans are capable of.”

Before she could decide whether to kill him, or keep him for further amusement, the front door of the bakery swung open.

Bobby came in first, followed closely by Sam and Eileen. 

Bobby was holding a damn crossbow, which he aimed and shot off at Sekhmet. It was a warning shot, just grazing her shoulder. But it burned her with a sting of flesh that made her hiss in pain. She glared up at Bobby, and after grabbing the book before Sam could, she disappeared in a whirlwind of magic.

The coil holding Dean in place shattered, allowing Dean to catch his break and get to his feet, with Sam’s help. Dean had to admit, it was good to see his brother. 

“You okay?” Sam asked. Dean reached over and pat the other man’s shoulder. 

“I’m good,” he said, though with a sigh that belied his weariness. “Hey, Eileen. Thanks for making it to the party.”

The pretty brunette offered him a sympathetic smile, rubbing his arm. “We came as soon as we could.”  

Dean nodded and turned to Bobby, who still held his crossbow. He wasn’t happy about the old man shooting at you, but he recognized that it had saved his life.

“Why’d that thing hurt her?” he asked. 

“The arrow’s dipped in a potent mix of salt from the Dead Sea…and Egyptian wine, among other things,” Bobby replied. 

Dean frowned in confusion. “Why the fuck?”

“According to the lore, Sekhmet could be subdued with alcohol,” Sam explained. 

“Great, we’ll just get her drunk and all our problems will be solved,” Dean quipped dryly. He grabbed the radio from his belt. His gaze returned to the dead bodies on the floor with dismay. 

“I’ve gotta call this in. Bobby, get the security tapes.”

After Dean finished calling in the deaths to his precinct, he shared a disheartened look with Sam, who grasped his shoulder in support.

“We’re gonna find her, all right?”

They regrouped at Bobby’s house once Jack took over at the bakery. Now the three men and Eileen were congregated in the living room, trying to decide on their next move. 

“You told her about the Hell gate?!” Sam said incredulously. 

“Damn it, Dean!” Bobby slapped the coffee table in exasperation. 

“All right, lay off! I was improvising under fucking duress,” Dean snapped. “At least we know where she’ll probably go next, assuming she finds out where the gate is.”

“She’s a goddess, Dean. One of the oldest and most powerful in ancient history. I’m sure she can figure it out,” Sam said, rubbing at his tired eyes.

And, as Dean remembered, Sekhmet was rooting around in your head. She’d find the gate for sure.

Eileen looked between the brothers, clearly worried. Sam had told her about what you, him, and Dean had gone through to close that damn gate to Hell last year. 

“So how do we stop her?” Dean asked. Without hurting you, was implicit. Bobby heaved a sigh.

“We gotta burn that damn book,” Bobby said. “But we’ll need to be smart about it.”

So that was how the four of them ended up driving to southern Wyoming. They stopped along the crossroads by the train tracks, and ventured in on foot into the very clearing where their final battle against Yellow Eyes took place.

Dean thought he’d be able to put his past behind him, but the universe clearly liked to kick him in the balls.

Evidence of this came when he saw you standing at Samuel Colt’s gravestone. Or rather, the goddess Sekhmet. 

She was expending large forces of magic to try and open up the gate to Hell. The book that bound her soul lied on top of a nearby headstone.

Dean gestured for Sam, Eileen, and Bobby to hang back and fan out, while he stalked forward. He’d changed out of his police uniform in favor of his familiar jeans, shirt, and a red plaid shirt, hoping that at least would help you focus on him, wherever you were deep inside your mind. 

But he called out to Sekhmet from a (relatively) safe distance away. 

“Are you stupid or something?” he mocked. 

Sekhmet paused in her magic wielding. She craned her head over her shoulder at him in annoyance, with amber rings illuminating her eyes. 

“There’s only one thing that can open up that gate, and I’ve got it right here,” said Dean. 

He pulled out the Colt from behind his back. 

Sekhmet’s gaze narrowed on the gun, then at Dean with a slow smirk.

“Why, by the gods, should I trust your foolishness?” she asked. 

“Because we’re about to make a trade,” Dean said. “The gun for my girl. You let her go, or you’ll never see your husband again. In this world, or the next.”

Dean pointed the gun at her and cocked the safety back. She didn’t have to know the barrel was empty. 

“You cannot harm me, even if there was ammunition in that weapon,” Sekhmet replied knowingly. 

She turned to him and reached out with a magic-fueled hand, but before she could grab Dean, Sam shot his own gun. 

It deployed a net of rope that twined around her frame and held her in place. It was soaked with the same concoction Bobby shot her with in the bakery, and it made her fume with outrage.

It didn’t completely weaken her though. Her hands were still free to fling Sam and Bobby away from her with magic. 

She then turned to grip Eileen, who was nearly able to steal the book. And the goddess sent Eileen across the clearing, breaking a headstone as she fell. 

Sam had been trying to pick himself up from the ground, but he gripped at his chest, feeling his soulmate’s pain. He scrambled over to her prone form on the ground and checked the cut along her hairline. 

“Eileen,” Sam called, pressing his hand to her cheek. He had one eye on her, and another on his brother. 

Because meanwhile, Sekhmet had broken free of the ropes holding her captive with a cry of fury. 

Just in time to grab Dean by the throat when he tried to surprise her from behind. She forced him down to his knees and smirked in satisfaction as Dean struggled against her hold.

He called your name, trying to reach you through the goddess’s hold on your mind.

“She is gone from this world,” Sekhmet taunted. “This is but a vessel for my eternal soul.”

“I don’t fucking believe that,” Dean choked. “If she was gone, I’d know it. Deep in my bones I’d know it.”

Her mouth twitched, but she seemed to enjoy the idea of slowly choking him to death. Or maybe, something was holding her back. Dean could only hope it was you, trying to break through. 

He looked into your eyes and tried to find you through the cold disdain of a goddess.

“Whatever happens, I’m not letting go,” he gritted out. He held tight to your wrist, on the hand wrapped around his throat. 

“I love you, you know that?” he said. “From the start…you closed the door in my face when I tried to kiss you. Teased me. Never took my shit. But you never left me either. No matter how hard it fucking got, you kept my feet on the ground. You never called it quits…‘cause we never say goodbye. Right, baby?”

Slowly, slowly, Sekhmet’s hard exterior faded. The amber rings of magic receded from your eyes, and the woman he loved was there again, softening your face into shock and horror. 

You released your grip on Dean. He stumbled to the ground as he coughed and gasped for precious oxygen. 

He straightened enough to grab your hand. You reached out for him instinctively. 

“Dean,” you said with shaking effort.

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. He turned back to see his brother helping Eileen to her feet. “Sam, the damn book!” 

Sam snapped to attention and quickly looked for The Eye of Ra. It had been knocked over from the headstone onto the ground. He grabbed it and fished out a lighter from his pocket.

Dean’s attention turned back to you when you squeezed his hands.

“I can’t hold her for long,” you said tremulously. Your whole body was shaking. “She’s so damn strong…”

“It’s okay, we’re gonna fix this,” Dean said, brushing your hair back from your face. 

You closed your eyes and gasped. But when you opened them once again, they were hard, and glowing with magic. 

Sekhmet tossed Sam away from the headstone. 

Dean tried to hold her back, but she backhanded him hard. Sekhmet followed where he fell. She reached out and gripped him by the neck again, this time choking him with a vengeance. 

But then she gasped, as if in pain. She turned her head and found Sam with the book in one hand, and a lit match in the other. As the book started to burn, Sekhmet weakened. 

Dean caught her before your body could hit the ground. 

Sekhmet released a shaking breath; she gazed into the dimming sky, painted in its golden, amber hues, and knew that her soul was dying. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks. 

Dean almost felt sorry for her. Or maybe it was the sight of your pained, weeping face that tugged at his heartstrings.

“You’ll just have to join your husband this time,” he said.

Sekhmet’s lips trembled, but she nodded. “This world was never made for us…but we shall soon be together for all eternity.”

She looked up at him with a rueful smile. 

“You understand,” she said. “A soul bond can never be destroyed.”

And with that, the haze of magic drained from your eyes as your body went limp. 

Dean’s brows furrowed with worry as he called your name. Behind him, Sam helped Eileen draw near with a limping Bobby. All three watched with worry at Dean’s side…until your eyes opened, revealing their natural hue. 

You took in a tremulous breath. “Dean.”

His eyes burned with emotion, but he closed them as he held you tight. All he could do was press his lips against your forehead in relief. 

You clung to him right back, for as long as you needed to. 

AN: Fun fact — According to Egyptian mythology, the only thing that could stop the goddess Sekhmet from ending humanity with bloodshed was by getting her drunk on beer, which had been dyed red to simulate blood (which she also liked to drink, apparently). 

Egyptians (the survivors) would drink beer mixed with pomegranate juice and get drunk to celebrate not being killed dead. (Woo!)

Anyway, let me know if you enjoyed Part 2! All the fluff is coming in the finale of Part 3, very soon…

Next Time:

Dean brings you home. The two of you figure out how to move on from here...

Keep Reading: Bonus Track #3

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[zablife]

Housekeeping + WIP List 12/6/23

❧To my new followers, welcome and ty for putting your age in your bio!! Coming up on 2K soon!

❧Tysm to everyone liking my work 💕, but reblogs do more to circulate fics on this site!! I love hearing from you so reblog and/or comment. (Anon asks are great too if you're shy ☺️)

❧Cleaning up my inbox and making a new WIP list (below the cut).

ONE SHOTS

Say Yes to Heaven-dark!Arthur x reader

Arthur is deeply upset by the way your husband is treating you and decides to take matters into his own hands in order to save you. However, his protection soon grows into an unhealthy obsession. 

My Martha-Finn x Martha x John Requested by anon

When a six year old Finn meets a kind seamstress during the war, he’s immediately taken with her charm and beauty. However, it’s his older brother, John, who ultimately wins her favor, causing Finn to experience his first case of a broken heart. 

Secrets and Lies - Tommy x OC Requested by @alimosblog

The new barmaid has a secret she's desperately trying to hide from Tommy. When her past begins to threaten his family's future, who will he remain loyal to?

Call Me-Tommy x reader Requested by @look-at-the-soul

Tommy can't imagine why you haven't used the private number he gave you. He instructed you to call him whenever you like, but you weren't about to give in so easily.

Windflowers-Tommy x Lily (OC Tommy's wife) Requested by @jomarch-wannabe

A continuation of my fic, Lily, where we revisit Tommy and his wife five years after the death of their daughter. As Lily wakes from a nightmare Tommy is there to comfort her.

Charlie's Lullaby-Tommy x nanny Requested by @the-fangirl-diaries

After the loss of his wife, Tommy is badly in need of rest. One night he finds Charlie's nanny comforting the child in the nursery and her presence calms Tommy as well.

Untitled Tommy x anxious reader Requested by anon

Your anxiety peaks during a lavish party surrounded by Tommy's work colleagues. Afraid he might be angry, you try to hide the signs, but Tommy knows you too well and comes to your rescue.

Untitled Tommy x American mafia princess Requested by anon

When Tommy is introduced to the daughter of an American mob boss, he's intrigued enough to follow her to America.

SERIES

Partners in Crime-Part 6 "Birthday Gift"--John x Y/n Solomons requested by @dreamlandcreations

Their unique skill sets and their older brothers' greed have brought them together against their will. Can they learn to get along? In this AU John and Alfie's sister are problematic besties.

Tachipen-Part 7 --Tommy x reader

With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a 20 year old gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he employs her as a nanny. When tragedy strikes, he’s forced to confront the truth he has always known. 

As Long As I Live-Part 2 --Tommy x Amelia (OC Tommy's daughter)

Tommy's long lost daughter appears at Arrow House and quickly becomes a beloved part of the family. What happens to their relationship when he attempts to mend a feud with the Gold family by offering her hand in marriage to Bonnie? 

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Azazel in helluva boss

Circus episode confronting stolas

Stella: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT STOLAS?

Stolas: That was the sound of a FUCKING DIVORCED

Azazel: Stella dear how about i handle this. Stolas let's have a chat shall we?

Stolas: That won't be necessary

Azazel: No let's have a chat i insist

Stolas: When i say no i say n-

PLAKKKKK

Azazel: Now can we have a chat?

Stolas: How about in the night?

Azazel: Wonderful

A few hours later

Stella: Oh i see you Haven't preparing for the meeting with lord azazel?

Stolas: Why are you still here?

Stella: Isn't it obvious i'm here because an old friend invite me

Stolas: I try so many years to make things comfortable but it wasn't enough the only reason i endure you're insult and cr-

Stella: You don't think i try do you? I try to make the best of it but you ruin it

Stolas: I will feel bad for what happen but it never happ-

Azazel: Enough stolas stop your whining. You always suffer but never stella and everything is all about you. You cheated on her infront of her friend, you always bring Blitz when your daughter right there infront of you needing you

Stolas: Azazel i didn't mean t-

Azazel: No more excuses. Stolas you make Stella miserable you make Octavia miserable you make blitz miserable. Are you gonna keep doing that? Just because you are miserable doesn't give you the right to make others miserable!

Stella: What do you think the rest of other goetia think an-

Stolas: I don't care what your arrogant broth-

Azazel: What about paimon? Won't your brother dissapointed looking at you. Stolas you are complete hypocrite you are also arrogant. What do you think Will happen if lucifer and satan find out huh? You are very pathetic you know that. When there's war you choose not to fight despite you are capable of doing that while i have to fight my ass off fighting those angel. You are nowhere to be found being coward blame everyone but yourself. Stella let's goi make sure you get compensation

Stella: Thank you my old friend

Azazel: Another thing please leave blitz alone his not your prince or knight in shining armor. He just doing his job ok

Preach azazeal

[ikesenwritings]

hello! I saw your hc request open and I would like to ask for one! First of all thank you so much for doing it (:

Can I request for an ikesen hc with baby? Where they bring their baby to work with them! like Nobunaga bringing his baby to work with him like perhaps to the lord meeting with him, and his baby was just babbling there (awe ><) . For Masamune/ Mitsuhide perhaps where they bring their baby to one of the meeting with their workers(?) and while they were working, they're also playing with their baby ( I can imagine between them will get a twin or triplets, π_π depends on you which one of them). Keiji/Kenshin bringing their babies to combat practice. Shingen, damn shingen bringing his baby outside to eat his favourite food while showing off his cutie pie T_T

A/N: Hello! I had too much fun thinking about all the little moments that would happen with these four. Got me all giddy and kicking my legs. Love me some domesticity 🥰🥰 and I was especially really loving domestic Mitsuhide and Kenshin… enjoy!!

-

[HC] Bringing their kid(s) to work

Suitor(s): Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, Kenshin, Shingen Content Warnings: Mentions of food in Shingen's section

Nobunaga

If asked about Nobunaga, there was one thing the people of Azuchi would always say:

He has an innate ability to command any room with his presence alone

He wears a passive expression but holds an unmerciful gaze; it’s enough to keep everyone on their toes

Now, this still holds true but if you were to ask again, the people of Azuchi might reconsider, given the rumors that the cruel warlord now carries with him a child

The Devil King of the Sixth Heaven’s precious daughter

It was truly a sight to see when the warlords gathered for war council one day and saw Nobunaga bouncing the baby girl up and down on his lap

Nobunaga bore loving eyes and a gentle smile for his little girl before regaining his composure and starting the meeting

“Mitsuhide, update us on the current situation regarding that pesky monk and his followers.”

Poor Mitsuhide couldn’t even speak for more than 15 seconds without being interrupted by the cute babbling noises of a one-year-old

Nobunaga seemed to regard this as a non-problem, his gaze still on the kitsune while playing with his child’s arms and swinging them in the air

The others (mainly Masamune) couldn’t help but grin and snicker at a baffled Mitsuhide, who was unsure of whether to continue or not

Mitsunari would then interject, “If I may, Lord Nobunaga. Perhaps she would like to be moving? In my reading, it seems that young children often do not like to stay immobile for an extended period of time.”

“Hmm, yes, you would be correct. We have been in meetings all morning. Let us continue this outside.”

Ask the people of Azuchi castle what they think of Nobunaga again, I dare you

Because Nobunaga, quite a giant in comparison to his one-year-old daughter, was now waddling down the hallway as he held his baby’s hands and guided her as she practiced taking steps

Imagine the looks on the maids’ faces as a string of warlords trailed behind their boss and his daughter, discussing important matters

Hideyoshi, Mitsunari, and Mitsuhide maintained their seriousness, Masamune was still trying to get over the silliness of it all, and Ieyasu held an indifferent expression (like he much rather be locked in a room with Mitsunari than be here for this, though it didn’t hurt to see such a cute little baby learning how to walk)

“Nobunaga? Did war council end already?”

MC had stopped abruptly just as she turned the corner, noticing the army of men and her beloved daughter

“We’re in war council right now,” Ieyasu huffed.

“What?”

“Yes, your child was growing unsettled. That is why we are walking around the castle,” Mitsuhide explained.

“Nobu… you haven’t been discussing details about… death and killing in front of our child, have you?”

“…No.”

“…”

“…”

“NOBU!”

Mitsuhide

“Um… uhh…”

The vassal that stood before Mitsuhide was at a loss for words, practically forgetting why he had ventured to the kitsune’s manor in the first place

Mitsuhide understood—his name was never synonymous with domesticity

But his gaze was soft and fixed on his children, his tone was nothing but impassive, and he gently bounced around the room as he cradled his twin babies

A brief amount of time passed and yet, still no missive; the vassal seemed to be paralyzed by fear should he say something that might displease the warlord and his children (though they were too young to even comprehend fully formed words)

“Speak… or shall I manage both my son and daughter as well as your responsibilities?”

The babies, who were now six months old, were at the age where they started babbling nonsense, which kept the sly fox in quite a playful state—further alarming the vassal who had been hearing nothing but horrible rumors about the man

Mitsuhide laying his son and daughter on a quilt and dangling toys above their eye-line seemed to be what broke the vassal out of his catatonic state, and with an incoherent apology and a quick drop-off of Hideyoshi’s missive, the vassal left

Kenshin

We all know just how protective and irrational Kenshin can be when it comes to his beloved

Now that he has a child of his own?

Oh, Kenshin is thinking of the worst possibilities at all times

When his baby boy is finally of the age that he and MC had come to agree upon, he starts his son’s “training” at the ripe old age of eight

There’s a gleam in his eyes as if he found out that Nobunaga Oda himself was on the frontlines in battle

Anticipation, like he’s been waiting years for this (and he has)

Finally, Kenshin will see what kind of ruthless warrior his son will shape up to be

“Do not run from me. You can’t escape when a great military commander holds such love for his tiny warrior.”

A shriek followed by endless laughter as Kenshin chases his son around the room

He finally embraces his son, who grows by the day, and stumbles onto the tatami mat, their miniature wooden swords tossed aside

It was truly endearing to see the warlord so happy, but really… the soldiers who had been waiting for their training session to start had been somewhat caught off guard by this soft side of their lord

They all stood at the entrance of the room with Yukimura and Sasuke at the back of the group, asking what the hold-up was

And when they finally pushed their way to the front, they witnessed the young boy in hysterics as Kenshin showered him with love and affection in the form of forehead kisses, tickling, and demands (that were along the lines of “Surrender! Your father wants to see your smile and hear your laugh!”)

As soon as Kenshin noticed the crowded doorway, however, a slight frown appeared on his face

“What, Sasuke? I’m busy.”

“We’re supposed to have a training session right now. You never forget an opportunity to fight someone.”

“Yes… well, I’m currently in the middle of battling a ferocious opponent… so leave me be.”

Shingen

“…Now you hold them just like this… right between your thumb and these fingers…”

In one of Kasugayama’s smaller, more hidden gardens sat Shingen and his little daughter

Shingen was in the process of teaching his little girl how to use chopsticks and absolutely devour the plate of mugwort dumplings before them

However sneaky he tried to be though, he just couldn’t escape the hands of the maids who just wanted to coo at the adorable princess

Soon enough, a group of women crowded the garden, waiting for their turn to make the baby smile or laugh

All the while Shingen continued eating his dumplings and saving bite-size pieces for his daughter to eat

“Now where is he?” MC mumbled to herself.

If it weren’t for the maids cooing at the child, she feared she’d never find her husband or her daughter

MC turned the corner of the veranda and found a pathway that then opened out into the garden

“Shingen?”

The crowd parted, revealing both the handsome warlord and the charming princess mid-chew as if they had been caught in some act

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you two!”

Shingen swallowed his dumpling before responding, “Did Yuki not relay my message?”

“Was that what he was trying to do? He started saying something and then Kenshin was charging at him with his sword, so…”

With an outstretched hand and one last piece of sweet goodness:

“Dumpling?”

[helpimobsessedwithpercyjackson]

If the demigod squad got summer jobs:

Piper works retail. Whenever a customer comes in and starts giving them a hard time she always takes them. The other workers don’t understand how she calms them down so easily. The store tries to get her to model some of their clothes but she refuses.

Percy’s a waiter, his restaurant is in the same center as Piper’s store and the library. He almost gets fired once because someone swore they saw him stab someone behind the restaurant (“Percy what the hell?” “it’s not my fault Dracanae like cheeseburgers!”) but Hazel comes in to work some Mist magic and it’s forgotten. Plus he’s really great with the customers and he’s very protective of the younger waiters (even though there’s not a huge age difference).

Annabeth’s at a library information desk. Every day her coworkers see her holding a book in some language they don’t understand, they assume she’s pretending to read it for attention. They’d think she was some loser with no friends except for the fact that every day during lunch she gets picked up by some really hot guy and this girl who they’re pretty sure is the daughter of a famous actor

Jason’s a camp counselor. He’s the one all the little kids gravitate to because he listens to everything they say and acts like it’s the most important thing in the world to him. He doesn’t talk about himself at all and once his fellow camp counselors googled him and they were so confused by the results they never asked about it.

Reyna teaches a fencing class. It’s mostly smaller boys and she loves teaching little kids. She’s their god. Once Jason brings his kids there on a field trip and they get into a match for demonstration, leaving everyone really confused by how well their counselor knows how to fence.

Hazel’s at a jewelry store in a mall. She makes sure the gems people return are authentic, her boss doesn’t understand why a teenager is so good at it but she’s never been wrong so he’s not going to complain. She wanted to find a job with horses but she couldn’t find one inside the city, so she stuck with something easy for her.

Frank works at the ice cream place in the same mall as Hazel. He claims it’s helping him practice ✨self control✨. That doesn’t stop him from telling everyone who walks in that he’s lactose intolerant.

Will’s an intern at a hospital. He mostly gets coffee and lunch for everone, but he loves it. He impresses everyone by how much he knows but makes it kinda awkward when he accidentally mentions the time he delivered a baby in a war zone and gets hit with a ton of questions

Leo doesn’t really want to work that hard, he’d rather work on his own projects, so he gets a job as a mechanic. They don’t usually hire teenagers but they let him try it out because during the interview he managed to make a miniature working car from the scraps in his pocket. He’s so fast that his hours are super short and they let him go in the back and work on his own stuff.

Nico works at McDonald’s. Percy put him up to it. If any costumer tries anything he just stares them down until they back off. He’s actually a super hard worker and everyone really likes him. He ends up working there year-round because he loves the routine so much

For lunch, Piper meets Percy at his restaurant, they get any available food and they go get Annabeth from the library. Jason eats lunch with his kids usually, but if he can he’ll go meet Reyna. Hazel and Frank have fun trying out all the different food kiosks at the mall. Will packs lunch for himself and Nico and they eat outside of the hospital (Nico won’t go in, the sense of death is too strong). Leo usually forgets to eat, but if he happens to notice it’s his lunch break he’ll either find Jason or meet up with Piper, Percy, and Annabeth.

To go home Percy picks up Piper and Annabeth then drives around New York picking everyone up. They spend the most time sitting outside the mechanic and the hospital waiting for Leo and Will, who always get caught up in something right before they leave and forget the time. 

[fullmarvelheart]

Crossing Lines (6/?)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x fbi!mob!Reader

Word Count: 5,199 

Recommended: 18+ readers

Summary: A sudden and unsettling event rocks the underworld, and Y/N is immediately called in to prepare for what’s to come. What she isn’t prepared for is James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, also known as the new head of the Brooklyn mafia clan. When these two get shoved into a world of danger and deceit, will they ever learn to trust each other? Or will they be doomed from the start?

Warnings: Swearing, angst, a wee bit of fluff?, Grant Ward (because he’s his own warning), mentions of violence

A/N: Happy Black Widow Day! I’ve been waiting for this movie to come for so long and unfortunately I won’t be able to watch it tonight😢. But anyways, here’s part six with a surprise character😉 (literally didn’t think of adding her until yesterday). Hope you guys enjoy! This has not been beta read at all. All mistakes are my own. The GIF is not mine, so credit goes to the original creator!

Series Masterlist

“Skye, come on! Why the hell did you drive off to the middle of damn nowhere?”

“Just trust me.” She says calmly as she parks the car, completely ignoring my outburst in the process. “And stop complaining, Y/N/N. I know you had another fight with your dad, so I know you wanted to be out of the city.”

“Fine, ok. But what is going on? I’m guessing Ward has no idea what you’re doing.”

“You’re not serious, right? You know he hates me doing anything remotely dangerous.”

“Not that I’m against going behind your boyfriend’s back, but what did you do?” I ask my, running my fingers through my hair.

“So, you know how Ward mentioned HYDRA’s top runner, Crossbones, the other day?” I nod. “Well, I got curious. We know nothing about him, and Ward thinks he can set a trap for him. I just, I just don’t want him to get hurt when I could have done something.”

“And you know if you did this at the Bureau, he’d find out somehow and stop you. Or Gonzales would.” Now she nods. “Alright, but I’m helping you with this. I’ve got a weird feeling about the whole thing and as your partner, it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“You worry too much.” She chuckles. “Besides, I’ll practically be behind my computer screen the whole time. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“You’re right, I guess. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop worrying though. And why are you still with Ward?” I groan dramatically, causing her to laugh.

“Oh, be nice. He’s not bad once you get to know him.”

“I don’t know. Something about his arrogance just doesn’t settle well with me.” I shrug.

“You’re being over dramatic. He’s great!”

“He better be, he is dating my best friend after all. Now let’s find the next exit, I’m hungry!”

Her laughter echoes in my head as the car moves along the highway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stomp through the halls on a mission. The office was empty, and disturbingly dark and stuffy for nine in the morning. If he’s not in his office there’s only one other place I could imagine him in, his bedroom.

“Please, don’t kill me for this.” I mutter to myself before taking a deep breath and throwing the door open.

My eyes scan the room and zero in on the lump underneath the covers.

“Go away, Steve.” His usually pleasant rough voice is mixed with hints of sleep and something else. I can’t help it that my inner self finds it sexy while I try to stay concerned rather than turned on.

Now’s not the time for a daydream. Focus.

The door shuts with a soft click, giving him the impression ‘Steve’ left. You aren’t that lucky today. I’m no push over! My boot clad feet thud on the wooden floor as I march straight towards the end of the bed. With one strong grip at the end of the comforter, I yank the sheets off his body before turning towards the curtain clad windows.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He screeches, trying to pull the blankets back up to cover himself from the cold air of the room. That was nothing. “Hey! What the hell is this, Rogers?” I pull the curtains open; the intense sunlight illuminates the room causing even me to briefly squint.

After successfully finding a single blanket to cover back up with, I notice the fact that Barnes had curled himself into a human ball in the middle of his mattress to block out the light.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” I groan, grabbing onto an edge piece of the fabric. “Get up, now!”

I try to yank it off him in one swift motion, again, but he’s faster than I thought. He springs up into a sitting position, latching on to the blanket I almost had off him, commencing a tug-of-war over the stupid thing. The muscles and veins in his arms flex and bulge, and in normal situations, I’d be impressed. But I’m getting irritated.

“You’re an absolute child.” I grunt as I fight with him.

“Let go, you heathen.” He counters.

At his command, I let go, causing him to fly backwards and bounce slightly on the mattress.

“Dangerous mob boss my ass.” I chide, crossing my arms as he just looks at me with disbelief.

“What do you want, Fury?” He groans, rubbing his eyes.

“Too much for you to comprehend at the moment but let’s start with this. How about you get your head out of your ass, get out of bed, and do your damn job?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand, Fury. And you’re crossing a line here. Get out.”

“It’s Maximoff to you right now. And what don’t I understand, Barnes?” I ask, ignoring his other remark.

“You have some nerve, coming here, into my room. Now get out.” He growls, tossing the blanket away, exposing me to the fact that he sleeps only in a pair of boxers. Damn, suits really don’t do his body justice, but damn does he look good in either.

“You have some nerve thinking this doesn’t concern me.” I snap back, regaining my focus, glad he didn’t catch me staring or was too annoyed to notice.

“And how,” He starts, finally standing up and slowly walking towards me, “Does this concern you?”

His muscles bulge as he crosses his arms, stopping at the foot of his massive king-sized bed. Though, there is an unsway of his body, and the shakiness that was in his hands that doesn’t evade my attention. Where I once noticed stubble, an unkept beard lies in its place. His hair looks knotted, unwashed, and greasy. Overall, he looks like an absolute train wreck.

“How does it not? Furthermore, how does it not concern you?! Barnes when did you last have a full meal, let alone showered!?” I exclaim, looking him over more closely. I can barely see the fact that he’s lost weight, but it’s there, it’s noticeable. The lack of a hot shower is more than just noticeable though.

He scoffs again.

“This is none of your business. Leave.”

“Stop being so fucking defensive with me. And this is my damn business, or have you forgotten the deal you have with my father? With Brooklyn on uneasy ground, especially after losing their last leader, you’re a target for HYDRA to attack. Not to mention the threat of the other mafia clans. And you know damn well that if my father has any idea that your alliance will cost him more than benefit him, he’ll watch you be fed to the sharks. But it just so happens that his daughter is in your territory, which gives you just a bit more wiggle room. However, if you put me in danger, he won’t just watch, he’ll feed you to the damn sharks himself!”

“I know!” He yells, walking closer to me.

“Then start acting like it.” I hiss.

“You don’t understand!” He argues, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Understand what?!”

“I can’t do this without him!”

The room falls into silence, and I stare at him, stunned.

“Okay? I can’t do this without my father. Yes, he’d been preparing me for years. But I always knew I could get advice from him or help if I needed it, once I took over. But this, all of this. I don’t know how to lead my men; I don’t know how prepare us. I don’t even have time to grieve the fact my father, not my boss, is gone forever, and I don’t know how to do this without him.” He chuckles dryly, hands on his hips. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.” And he’s turning away from me.

“You’re wrong.” I cringe at how shaky and quiet my voice comes out.

“What?”

“You’re wrong.” I repeat firmly. “To think I don’t understand.” The sting of tears forming in my eyes has me pausing to close them and take a deep breath.

When I open them again, Barnes faces me properly with a look of confusion and mild concern.

“No one knows exactly what to do in these situations. But from one ally to another, you have your training, and the people you trust to help you figure it out. And you have your friends. It might not always work the way you planned, but nothing ever really does. You aren’t the only one grieving the death of your father, the men also adored him. Keep that in mind.” I pause, watching him work through what I said to him. “But don’t you dare ever assume I don’t understand grief.” I sneer. “Or how to continue on with the weight of it constantly on my shoulders. You don’t know me. So don’t act like you do.” He gapes at me, like a fish. “Get your shit together Barnes, and get to work.”

I walk out of his room as quickly as I can, letting the door slam behind me. Two corners later and I finally let myself slump against the wall. I gasp for air I didn’t know I needed as I fight back the tears trying to escape. It’s been six months! It was just a stupid dream! Get it together!

When my breathing returns to normal, I pull out my phone. The message from the unsaved number glares at me as I ignore it, again, and type out a message to another party.

“Meet me at the shore this afternoon. More details will be given soon. Bring the info you have gathered and don’t tell the boss.”

The response is almost immediate.

“Understood. He’s getting antsy about the report...”

I groan to myself as I push off the wall. He’ll just have to wait longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zippers of my backpack nearly shriek as I pull both of them together quickly. I’ve been frustrated with my more legal job before, but this is something different.

Why the fuck are they making me go to a check in with the case officer this early? A month! I’m supposed to have a month to gain traction and trust in the role they requested of me! They should know that it isn’t safe to possibly expose an undercover operative at all, why would they risk it this early on?!

I growl to myself under my breath as I lace up my boots, aggravated that they’re risking the objective of this mission. If I get made, my father will also lose the alliance, HYDRA might learn of my role in the government and go into hiding, and that’s a lot of fuck up that doesn’t need to happen. Gonzales better either know what he’s doing or have good intel for me.

I swing the backpack up on my shoulder, just as someone knocks on the door.

“Give me a second.” I call, letting the pack flop onto my bed.

I’m surprised to find Natasha on the other side of the door, waiting with her arms crossed patiently.

“Come on in.” I say before she can speak, nodding to the inside of my room.

She raises an eyebrow in suspicion but walks in anyways. She turns to face me just and the door closes.

“All I was going to say was that Barnes is requesting everyone to head to the warehouse, but I’m guessing there’s something else?”

I nod. “I got called for a check in.” I tell her with an eyebrow raised, not needing to tell her who I’m referring to.

“This soon?”

“I’m hoping to get something worth the risk for this, but my gut says otherwise.”

She hums to herself in thought as she processes.

“I can get you a cover this time.” She states sharply. “But they need to get their act together. The cover might work just enough, but there are still people in here who don’t trust you, yet.”

“They might never.” I shrug. “But I agree with your risk assessment. I’m prepared to chew out whoever it is.”

She smirks, then motions towards my door. “Get to the warehouse and leave your things here for now. I’ll make the arrangements.”

I give her a small smile before we’re both walking off in different directions.

The warehouse is packed with people, many of which I don’t recognize, all of whom are engaging in loud conversations. I begin to push my way through the crowd, though I don’t make it too far as I feel a hand grab onto my arm. When I turn towards the pull, Drax smiles at me, motioning for me to follow him. I laugh quietly to myself as people practically jump out of Drax’s way. When we stop, I spot Carol not too far away and walk over to her.

“For the record,” She says, not even looking at me. “This is odd for us too.”

“Is this everyone?” I ask, confused.

She scoffs. “No, there are still those on patrols or jobs that aren’t here. But I’m sure they’ll be brought up to speed, on whatever this is, later.”

I hum as an answer, my eyes scanning the crowd of faces, seeing who I’ll recognize. I just make out Rollins’ silhouette as the voices begin to fall silent. Barnes stands in front of the gathering on a small platform, Rogers and Wilson flank him on either side. He looked a lot better than what I saw earlier. His beard trimmed back to a five o’clock shadow, his hair washed, brushed, and tied into a small bun behind his head, and there was strength in his body showing that he was able to eat since I last saw him. If I hadn’t seen him this morning, I wouldn’t have believed anything was wrong in the first place.

Standing behind the three mafia men, I see Barton, the two Odinson brothers, and five other men and one woman that I don’t recognize. Natasha casually merges in with the group at the last second.

“Many of you have taken note of my absence recently.” Barnes starts talking, his voice booming across the warehouse, commanding everyone’s full attention. It sends a thrill down my spine that I suppress. “And I am aware of the rumors that have been spreading regarding such absence.

“I was reminded earlier today that I was as close to my father as he was with many of you, maybe just a little closer. And yes, I’ve been grieving. But that grief has not blinded me to the enemy that is still out there, just as it has not blinded you.

“The enemy that has let their guard down because HYDRA thinks it has weakened us!” Grumbles of disapproval make him pause. “But they have not weakened us! This clan, this family, is not weakened by the grief of our leader. We are angered, enraged, that they dare try to cross us.” He pauses, listening to the murmurs of agreement of his people. “They have no idea what awaits them. Since the fall of George Barnes, they’ve expected us to kneel before them, begging for mercy. But they will be the ones begging. Their days are number because we will find them, and we will bury every last one of them as we watch HYDRA burn!”

The men begin to shout out their support, the roar almost sounds deafening to my ears, but I follow their lead, yelling with them. Barnes holds up his hand, and the crowd silences.

“Get a move on. We have work to do.” The warehouse erupts in applause, shouts of affirmation, threats to HYDRA, and anything of the sort.

The men begin to clear out of the warehouse, and Carol motions for me to follow her before walking towards Barnes.

“It’s good to see you again, boss.” She tells him with a smile, one he reciprocates before glancing at me. “I was wondering if I’d be able to take new girl around for a drive. Just to show her around our territory.”

“That’ll have to wait, Danvers.” Natasha cuts in, before turning to me. “Let’s go.”

She’s walking away before Barnes or Danvers, who both share a curious glance with me, can say anything. I only slightly hesitate before hurrying after her.

“Thank you.” I mutter once we’re out of the warehouse.

“Don’t thank me, yet. The boss will have questions.”

“Hopefully it’ll be worth it. If it isn’t, I’m gonna chew out whatever unlucky soul is sent.”

“I have no doubt of that.” She replies, and I can hear a hint of a smirk in her voice.

We near one of the doors that serve as an exit to the base, and I see my backpack sitting at the bottom of it.

“Know you way around?” She asks as I swing the backpack over my shoulder.

“Well enough. It shouldn’t be too hard.” I say, shrugging.

“Good. If you do get lost, call me,” She hands me a piece of paper with a number on it. “And I’ll sent someone for you. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I nod, folding the paper up and slipping it in the back pocket of my jeans.

She nods back, then walks away. I take a deep breath before throwing the door open and walking out in the direction of the nearest subway. When I’m a decent way away from the warehouse, I pull out my phone.

“Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pier 2, two hours.” I press send on the text before placing a call, one I admittedly should have done earlier.

“About damn time!” I cringe at the tone in his voice but carry on as if I didn’t piss him off.

“I thought I wouldn’t have any contact with the Family. But everything’s going well. There was a slight issue, but I handled it and everything’s back to the way it should be.” I say over the noise of the street traffic.

“What issue? And why are you calling in public?”

“I was called in.” I grumble into the phone.

“Already?”

“Yes, but I swear if this is a waste of time, whoever I’m meeting is getting an earful.”

“I’d be concerned if they didn’t. But what issue?”

“It’s been fixed, it doesn’t matter, but I need a copy of the contract.” I state firmly, hopefully distracting him from the other thing.

“Y/N, you know-”

“Father!” I take a breath, so I don’t start arguing with him in public. “I need that copy. If I’m going to be doing this, I need to know every single condition, and every term.”

The other end of the line is silent, and I know he’s thinking things over.

“Alright. But in turn, when I ask for an update, you give me one that fucking day. Understood?”

“Yes.” I mumble, hating feeling like a scolded child.

“Good.”

“I’m getting on the subway, I have to go.”

“I expect an update tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” I hang up the phone and let out a deep sigh before walking down the stairs.

As the subway approaches, my phone chimes and I glance at the text.

“Understood. I’ll see you there.”

The meeting place my case officer chose, a quaint little coffee shop, is two blocks away from my stop. The amount of people on the sidewalks has me wishing for my bike as I squeeze in between people, and there are several times I wished to shove the slow walkers out of my way when I couldn’t pass. Honestly being stuck in traffic was a bit more enjoyable to being stuck behind of group of gossiping women.

I come up to the corner of the street, where the shop is located, and spot its cute little sign. As I cross the street, I happen to take a glance in the window and immediately find a face I recognize.

“You got to be shitting me.” I growl to myself.

The door chimes as I walk through, and I head towards the table.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I grumble as I take a seat, using the heel of my boot to put pressure on the toes of his foot.

“Right, well,” He coughs, covering up a wince as he pulls his foot away from mine. I smirk to myself. “Considering I called for this, I’m not really surprised.”

“Ward, you son of a bitch.” I hiss, quiet enough not to draw attention, as I kick his shin sharply. “You’re an idiot. You better have a good reason for doing this Grant.”

He visibly winces and adjusts himself before clearing his throat to address me.

“As your case officer, I don’t need to explain this to you.”

“You do when you compromise my position. This was way too early!” I hiss before clearing my throat, remember not to cause a scene. “Do you have information for me or not?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. Look, if Skye was still alive, she’d want-”

“Yeah, well she’s not here. How does your new girlfriend, what was it, Kara, feel about you still being hung up on your dead ex?”

“Do not bring her into this.” He hisses, before straightening up and burying any hint of annoyance until there is barely any emotion visible on his face. I hate when he does this, it unnerves me how easy it is for him each time. “Here.” He states before putting a thin file on the table for me to grab. “This is everything that we’ve been able to find out about them recently.”

I swipe it off the tabletop and gently toss it into my backpack, without opening the folder.

“Hopefully, I don’t see you again anytime soon. This better not become a regular thing with you.” I mumble before getting up and ordering a cup of coffee to-go.

As I walk out of the store, I almost bump into a blonde woman that was on her phone. Luckily for both of us, the coffee didn’t spill. After a few seconds of hurried apologies, and foreign curse words on her end, I hurry to the station, hoping I won’t have to wait that long for my ride.

When I get to the park, I decide to wander around for a little bit. It feels good to be out in fresh air inside of being inside a building for the entire day. The clouds look fluffy and soft, the breeze is cool on my face, and the sun feels just warm enough to enjoy without sweating to death. I stop once I get to Pier 2 and just find myself leaning on the railing of the pier, looking out onto the river and the skyscrapers on the other side.

While I wait, I decide to enter Natasha’s number into my phone, then letting the piece of paper fall into the water of the river, the safest way to dispose of it. After I can no longer see the white of the paper, I return my gaze to my father’s city.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Like what?” I ask, looking towards the voice.

“Content. Happy, even just a little bit.” She says with a small smile while moving to stand beside me.

“It’s the little things like this that make me happy, May. It helps me forget about the mess that is my life, even just for a few minutes.”

She hums and we just stand in silence for a moment.

“What have you been able to find?” I ask, breaking the silence and going into business mode.

“Not much. I doubt it’ll be much help to you.”

“A little may be what I need. I still have some of her research. At this point I just need anything on him.”

“Having nightmares about her again?” She asks, concerned.

It causes me to smile, even just a little bit. Sure, my father hired her, but she has always remained loyal to me, more so than to the family. Though, I have no doubt that if she had any concern about me, she’d go talk to my father.

“More like memories. Still, they leave me feeling restless because I haven’t been able to find a lead on this guy. Skye was getting close, I know that. Which is the only explanation as to why she was killed.”

She hums again. “Still not planning on telling your father?”

I scoff. “After he basically called me paranoid for looking into Ward? No. If he finds out I haven’t let this go like he thinks, he’s going to ask questions. Questions I’m not ready to answer. Not only that, but if he finds out I contacted you while on assignment, I’d get my head chewed off. I’m technically not even allowed to contact him, yet here we all are.”

She nods with a slight chuckle, then pulls a file out from underneath her jacket and hands it to me.

“I’ll keep checking in with my contacts on the street to see if anything new about him surfaces, but until then, this is all I have.”

I stare at the closed file for a moment, before sliding that into my backpack as well.

“Thank you again, May.” She smiles briefly before nodding.

“You should get out of here, before anyone questions why you’ve been gone for a while.” I nod and push away from the railing. “Oh, and Y/N?” I turn back around. “Stay safe.”

“You too, May.” I call back, walking away.

A flash of blonde hair in the corner of my eye has me pause for a second, but when I see nothing, I shrug to myself and keep going. It must have been in my head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to my room shuts and I feel my body sag from the exhaustion of the day. I let my backpack slip to the ground with a soft thud and shuffle towards my bed. When my back meets the cool sheets of the mattress, a deep sigh escapes my lips and I close my eyes, finally enjoying a bit of rest. But, there’s a knock at my door that has me groaning loudly.

“Of course.” I grumble under my breath.

When I open the door, I’m very surprised to find Thor standing on the other side with a slight scowl on his face.

“Follow me.”

I do so, hesitantly, letting the door slowly click shut before catching up to him. The walk is silent, and for some reason, I feel uneasy for the first time since I walked in here. He leads me through the halls, and I find myself recognizing where we are going. James Barnes’ office.

Thor opens the door and motions for me to step inside, and I do, trying to maintain a façade of confidence. And I’m grateful for it, because the glare Barnes wears as he watches me enter almost has me reeling backwards. He sits behind his desk, looking regal, deadly, and in charge. No trace of friendliness shows on his face.

What really throws me for a loop is the petite redhead curled on his lap, her well-manicured nails raking through his hair in almost a possessive manner. The sight makes something churn uncomfortably in my stomach, and by the smirk on her face, she knows it too.

I look away from her, finding Rogers and Wilson in their places behind Barnes, leaning against the wall. Natasha stands off to the right, near the only window in the office.

“Dot, leave.” He says stiffly, not removing his gaze from mine.

“But Bucky Boo-”

“Now.” He growls, ignoring her high-shrieked protest. This is the infamous Barnes I’ve heard about on the streets.

She huffs in irritation, untangling herself from Barnes’ lap and starts stomping out of the room like a child throwing a small tantrum. She brushes past me, giving me the death glare on her way. I simply raise an eyebrow at her retreating form until the door shuts behind her.

“Lovely person, Bucky Boo.” I mutter under my breath, turning back around. “I haven’t looked at the information I was given, yet. I only just got back to the compound.” I say to Barnes, assuming that’s what got him so miffed.

“How was the meeting?” He asks, completely ignoring my remark, irritation still evident.

“I wanted to shove Ward’s head through the window only a few times. So, fairly well, I guess. Still pissed off he’s assigned as my case officer though.” I shrug still not seeing the point of this.

I see Barnes’ eye twitch and hear the soft click of the door closing. I turn around to see the blonde that I almost walked into on the sidewalk from earlier, and everything falls into place. With a click of my tongue in understanding, I turn back around towards Barnes.

“You had me followed.” I state.

“Yelena Belova, Nat’s sister, was sent to keep an eye on you. Make sure you stayed safe.”

“Hmmm. Interesting.” I hum towards the ground, frustrated that I didn’t see that coming earlier, as my hands find purchase on my hips, my nails digging into the fabric of my shirt.

“Imagine my surprise when I got a message saying you weren’t on your way back after the drop off, but was going to meet someone else.”

“Yeah, and I’m not telling you why.” I fire back stubbornly, my hands still on my waist.

Barnes blinks rapidly, shocked, because I didn’t deny it, that I said no to him so easily, or maybe because of something else completely. Whatever the reason, he recovers quickly. A scowl now twisting up his features.

“We had a deal with your f-”

“I’m not the one that needs reminder of that deal, it seems.” I snap. “What I did today, was for reasons you aren’t entitled to.” His scowl deepens. “Now, I could give you some information about it. If you were to tell me something in return.”

“And what’s that?” He growls, but willing to play my game.

“The last crate I picked up on my assignment.” Recognition dances over his eyes. “Yeah, it’s about that. Tell me what was in there because I know for a fact it wasn’t the shit on the manifest. That was just a cover. You tell me what the shipment was, and I’ll tell you what I was given.”

He clenches his jaw, but doesn’t say a word. I wait for a moment before nodding, more to myself than him.

“You’ll get the info the Bureau sent me, once I make sure it’s actually useful.”

I turn and exit the office quickly, no one saying a word to me before the door closes. My nails dig into my palms as I stomp back to my room, pissed off at the day I’ve had. My door slams shut, and I begin pacing the floor of my room. Anger flows through my veins like a fire that can’t be stopped. I had at least thought I was gaining some ground with Barnes and even some of the others, but apparently not. The only reason he let me go free is because of that stupid deal.

One thing’s certain after tonight, though. James Barnes is not to be trusted.

 Part 7

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[prorevenge]

My Grandmother Put Greedy Preachers In Their Places .... Twice .... Even After She Died

TL/DR - My grandmother generously served her "Bible Believing Christian" church for almost 50 years, without asking anything in return. But when she became elderly, disabled and homebound, her church acted like she did not exist - until she was in hospice care and literally on her deathbed, when that church showed a sudden interest in telling Grandma to, "Remember your church in your will". She waited until exactly the right moment, in front of exactly the right audience, to expose these greedy assholes for what they were.....twice.

My grandmother was a member of a large conservative "Bible Believing" church for her entire adult life. This church, which I'll call BigWhiteChurch, was a member of a large Evangelical denomination. BigWhiteChurch was located in a prosperous suburb of a large city in the Bible Belt of the Deep South of the USA.

Grandma was very active in BigWhiteChurch. She worked in the nursery every Sunday morning, helped cook hundreds of church fellowship breakfasts and dinners, accompanied her children and grandchildren on dozens of church retreats and choir tours, taught Youth Bible Study on Sunday nights and was very active in supporting Home Missions, as well as helping with other youth programs. She always tithed, and often gave extra for missions and special offerings.

Grandma's greatest talent was making other people feel important. I've seen this first-hand many times. Although I belonged to a different church, I often visited with Grandma, and when I did, I usually went to BigWhiteChurch functions with her. I've seen her single-handedly cook breakfast for dozens of BigWhiteChurch Youth, a task which took over 2 hours, even in the church's large kitchen. Then, after the meal, she asked the group for a round of applause for the high-school student leader for, "Doing such a great job of organizing the Prayer Breakfast".

I remember that, on a BigWhiteChurch youth retreat at a rural Church Camp, she drove most of the night to go back to the city and retrieve a big box of evangelistic materials, that one of the Assistant Pastors (whom I'll call AssPastor) had forgotten and asked her to get, in time for our morning program the next day. His boss, the Senior Pastor (I'll call him PompousPastor), never found out that AssPastor had screwed up or that Grandma had fixed it for him. AssPastor never even thanked Grandma. Even though I was a child, this bothered me so much that I asked her about it. She said that she didn't mind at all; she told me her reward would be that those materials, "Would help children find Jesus".

Grandma's service to her church ended abruptly at the age of 73, when she broke her back in a car accident. Afterwards, for the last 10 years of her life, she was homebound and could not go to church because of this injury and declining health due to old age. Her mind was just as sharp as ever, and her faith remained sincere, but her body wore out a little more every day.

During those 10 years, she made many efforts to reach out to her church, its leadership and her church friends, inviting them to visit her at her home, etc., without success. Every one of these invitations was declined or simply ignored.

Near the end, when she was in home hospice care, she decided to plan her own funeral. She and my Grandpa called her church and asked for the Senior Pastor, PompousPastor, whom she had known for over 30 years, to visit her so that they could plan her memorial service, which she and Grandpa wanted to be held at the church.

PompousPastor was too busy, but AssPastor stopped by a few days later. According to my Grandpa, here's what happened at that meeting, with my Grandma literally on her deathbed:

Grandma, Grandpa and AssPastor discussed her funeral for a couple of minutes. Then AssPastor started pressuring her to, "Lay up your treasure in Heaven" by, "Remembering your church in your will".

Grandpa told him firmly that, "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss her will."

They went back to discussing the funeral for a few minutes. Then AssPastor steered the conversation back to Grandma's will, with liberal injections of how badly "her" church needed "her support".

Grandpa told him several times that it was inappropriate to talk to Grandma about her will or the church's financial needs, because she was terminally ill and in an enormous amount of physical pain. AssPastor would agree and briefly talk about the funeral, but would then go back to talking about the church's financial needs, heavenly rewards, "Where your treasure is your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21, Luke 12:34), etc.

My Grandma started crying.

To put this into context, Grandma was more than a "Steel Magnolia". She was "Titanium Coated With Diamond Wrapped In Kevlar". She rarely ever cried, and never EVER cried about herself. Not one tear when the doctor told her that her back was broken so badly that she would never walk again, nor during the following 6 months in futile rehab. She would shed sincere but well-managed tears at funerals and while visiting family members in the hospital when they received bad news. She would cry to console others, "Weep with those who weep". But nobody - not Grandpa, not her daughter (my mom), nor any of my uncles or Grandma's siblings - ever remembered her crying for herself.

My Grandma was sobbing uncontrollably.

Grandpa, a retired steelworker, ex-Marine Sergeant and Korean War combat veteran, physically grabbed AssPastor and "escorted" him out of their house, not too gently.

Contrary to everyone's expectations, Grandma lived another 6 months, mostly because of sheer force of will. Eventually, though, Grandma passed away and we held her memorial service at the funeral home, not BigWhiteChurch. PompousPastor and AssPastor were conspicuously absent. In fact, there were no "Professional Christians", from BigWhiteChurch, at the service at all, not even in the audience.

To start the service, Grandpa stood up at the podium in front of the crowd and said, "Some of you may have heard that I dis-invited PompousPastor and AssPastor from this funeral service. This service is not an appropriate place for me to give you my reasons for doing this, although you all know me and so you know that my reasons are good ones. Also, my wife asked me to exclude them."

"This funeral service may be different from other funerals that you have attended. It is going to be an "open microphone" funeral. Everyone who wants to say something is invited to come up here and describe your friendship with my wife, tell a story about her that is worth remembering, or anything else that you want to say that will honor her memory and bring comfort to everyone here today. I have asked several family members to prepare statements, but you don't have to have anything prepared. Please, if you want to say something, come up here and do so."

There were about a hundred people at the funeral service; at least a third of them eventually stepped up to the microphone. The service, which we had planned to last about 30 minutes, lasted for over two hours and, as best I can tell, not one person left early. There was laughing, crying and hugging, three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs on the piano and guitar, we all joined hands and sang her favorite hymns.

Afterwards, dozens of people told my Grandpa that it was one of the most comforting and uplifting funerals they had ever attended. More than a few remarked that, "Funerals are better without preachers anyway", or something similar.

REMEMBERING HER PASTORS AND HER CHURCH IN HER WILL: THE ONE-TWO PUNCH

A couple of weeks later, it was time to start distributing the bequests in Grandma's will. Although Grandma and Grandpa dearly loved each other, they had separate wills because, she told my Mom, "That makes it easier for us to respect each other's turf", and because their lawyer had recommended it. Nobody thought that my grandparents were wealthy. They had lived in the same small but charming house in a prosperous, well-maintained suburban neighborhood for the past 50+ years, and had worked hard and lived modestly. But it was rumored that they had a very nice nest egg.

Of course, there is no legal requirement for anyone to attend "The Reading Of The Will", or to even have a "Reading". Modern telecommunications and near-universal literacy have made this quaint custom practically extinct.

But "The Reading Of The Will" was a tradition in our family because it was one of those events that gave our close-knit, extended family an excuse to get together. We never had "Family Reunions". They were too difficult to schedule for our large family. But we got together at birthdays, holidays, funerals, baptisms, etc., so that if you attended several of these, you would see just about every one of your cousins, aunts, uncles, and even great aunts & uncles who were Grandma's and Grandpa's siblings and in-laws.

With this family tradition in mind, many of our family members' wills often contained very personal bequests of items that had little cash value, but were the departed family member's way of telling their loved ones that they wanted to share a cherished memory with them one last time.

As an added incentive to attend, the family rumor mill had been buzzing with speculation, encouraged by Grandpa, that Grandma's will contained some "surprises".

The "Reading" was held in a conference room at a lawyer's office. Unsurprisingly, the attendees included my mom, as well as aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles and many of the grandchildren.

We were all surprised, however, to see PompousPastor and AssPastor from BigWhiteChurch. They informed us that Grandma's lawyer had told them that Grandma's will had bequests not only for BigWhiteChurch, but also for them personally.

Maybe it was just our imagination; but my siblings, cousins and I couldn't help noticing that these Preachers appeared to be actively salivating over their good fortune at Grandma's generosity.

Grandma had a large family, so a sizeable number of beneficiaries were named in her will. The lawyer's conference room was a bit smaller than an average middle-class living room. Extra chairs had been brought in, every seat was filled and people were standing in every remaining space.

There was barely space for all of us. Grandma's lawyer suggested that PompousPastor and AssPastor sit in chairs which were in the front of the room, next to himself. Since there was a large table in the room, this meant that the lawyer and these two Preachers were the only ones who were directly facing everyone else. Although the Preachers were gratified to be physically next to the center of attention, they did not notice, as all of the rest of us quickly noticed, that these seats made it easy for everyone else in the room to watch them closely, and practically impossible for them to leave the packed-to-more-than-overflowing room before the entire meeting was over, because they were farthest from the room's single door, and there were almost two dozen people standing or sitting between them and their only path to escape.

The bequests were quite generous, but pretty much what we had expected. Grandpa kept their house, its contents, their retirement accounts and everything that remained after all of the bequests had been satisfied. Children, grandchildren and several local charities received nice, but not extravagant, amounts of money. Several sentimental items were named and given to various friends and relatives.

Grandpa was first beneficiary listed in the will. But, after him, all of the other bequests were arranged in order of increasing worth. They started with sentimental items, which had very small cash value. Then each grandchild received several thousand dollars, then each son, daughter, brother, sister, niece and nephew received a little more, then several local non-profits received very nice amounts, etc.

Bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor were (almost) the last ones listed in the will. They listened politely to the other bequests, but with steadily growing anticipation, as they noticed the exponential upward trend in Grandma's largess.

When Grandma's lawyer got to the BigWhiteChurch and Preachers' part of the will, he said, "This is a bit unusual, but before I announce these bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor, Ms [Grandma's name] requested that I read the following statement to everyone present."

He opened a letter that was written in Grandma's own handwriting...

"For the past 10 years, NOT ONE person from BigWhiteChurch has ever called me, come to visit me or sent me a note to tell me that they cared about me. Not one minister, not one deacon, not one of the church women, not one of the church members who I worked with for all of those years, loved dearly and thought were my friends. I worked very hard for you when you needed me, for many, many years. But when I needed you and your church, you all pretended that I didn't exist."

"I only got one visit. When I was dying and I invited PompousPastor to come to my house and help me plan my funeral."

"This was my last attempt, after many attempts that I had made over the past 10 years, to reach out to my church and Pastor, whom I still loved dearly even though they had made it clear that they did not love me. If only I could have my funeral at my church, maybe some of my church friends, whom I had not seen in a decade, would come to the service to see me one last time. And I know they loved to hear PompousPastor preach, so if he preached at my funeral, maybe they would come to my funeral to hear him, even if they would not have come to see me.

But PompousPastor couldn't find the time to visit me, or even call me to tell me whether or not he was willing to preach at my funeral. AssPastor came by my house, but he didn't want to talk about my funeral. He just wanted me to, 'Remember his church in my will'. That's all. Just, 'Remember his church in my will'".

"It was then that I realized that I had allowed my church to break my heart for one last time. But that was the last time. The VERY last time."

"AssPastor did not know it when he visited me, but Grandpa and I had already prepared my will, long before his visit, which did include a double tithe - TWENTY PERCENT - of my ENTIRE ESTATE, for what was now my former ... FORMER ... church ... BigWhiteChurch.

This amount was [named the amount - an enormous shitload of money - generating muffled "wows" from many of her heirs, including me].

"But I got to feeling badly that we had not personally remembered such nice people as PompousPastor and AssPastor. So I changed my will to include them by name. While I was at it, I changed the amount of money that I left to BigWhiteChurch to match all of the love that they have showed to me during the last 10 years of my life, when I was suffering and lonely, and no longer able to work my ass off for them, for free, like I had done for almost half a century."

"That is her entire written statement", the lawyer said. "Now let's get back to the bequests in the will."

"Bequest to AssPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to PompousPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to BigWhiteChurch: One Cent".

The PompousPastor and AssPastor sat there looking like someone had just injected a gallon of novacaine into their jaws.

Every one of Grandma's family and friends felt an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud. But we kept quiet because we knew Grandma. We knew she wasn't finished yet. Grandma was simply setting them up for a one-two punch. The best was yet to come, and we didn't want to miss it.

"There is one last bequest," the lawyer continued, "For a charity called ...", which he named and I'll call "BlackCharity", then he paused before naming the amount....

Most of us had no idea what BlackCharity was. But, by the looks on their faces, we could tell that PompousPastor and AssPastor knew BlackCharity very well. Their faces displayed the same expressions of shock, dread and horror that they would have if the lawyer had said, "This bequest goes to The Demonic Baby Eaters to buy extra large rotisserie barbecue grills and tons of charcoal".

Every eye in the room was now fixated on PompousPastor and AssPastor.

The lawyer, who happened to be my uncle, one of Grandma's and Grandpa's sons, let the silence continue a few seconds more....

If we had been able to read PompousPastor's and AssPastor's minds, we would have known the history behind the looks on their faces. BlackCharity was sponsored by a large Black church just a few miles from BigWhiteChurch. They ran a free food/clothing bank, assistance programs for foster children, home delivery of pre-cooked meals for homebound seniors, legal aid, and other social services.

A long time ago, BigWhiteChurch, which was (and still is) 100% Caucasian, had provided a few years of financial and other support to BlackCharity. Then there was a very bitter, acrimonious breakup, allegedly because BlackCharity was practicing "The Social Gospel", while BigWhiteChurch was preaching "The True Gospel". BigWhiteChurch even sued to try to get some of their money back, although the suit was eventually settled and very little money actually changed hands.

But, this being The Deep South, everyone knew the real reason why BigWhiteChurch, or any white church, would stop supporting a Black charity: "Those n****** were getting uppity and not staying in their place". Grandma and Grandpa had seriously considered leaving BigWhiteChurch at that time. But they had reasoned that it was better to stay there and teach tolerance by their words and example. They knew they would never persuade everyone, but maybe they could reach some of the youth at their white church and break the generational cycle of racism. Grandma used to tell us, "My church is my Mission Field". We did not learn the true depth of her statement until after she died.

Since then, Grandma and Grandpa had secretly sent a portion of their "Tithe" to BlackCharity every month.

Most of Grandma's family, including me, didn't find out about any of this until after the meeting had ended.

But PompousPastor and AssPastor obviously understood what Grandma, by her actions which are more powerful than words, was saying to them. If you had grown up as a white person in the Deep South, as Grandma, Grandpa, PompousPastor and AssPastor had, you would understand.

To many white Southerners, this was one of the most personally insulting things you could do to them. It simultaneously labeled them as racists, condemned their bigotry and crushed their delusions of white superiority by saying, "These Black human beings, whom you hate, disrespect and have mistreated, are better people than you are. So they deserve my money more than you do".

Having allowed time for everyone to observe PompousPastor and AssPastor while they thought about how their white church had treated this Black charity, and how they AND their church had treated our Grandma...

The lawyer said, "The amount is...."

Then he named the EXACT SAME AMOUNT that Grandma had named in her handwritten letter, the huge amount of money that would have gone to BigWhiteChurch if she had not changed her will.

(source) story by (/u/BamaFan4Jesus)

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Stubborn Asshole (A Zak Bagans x Reader SMUT)

WARNINGS: Smut, language, possession

Special Thanks: To @xcazzax​ for being an awsome reader and source of inspiration. I couldn’t do this without you girly. 🥰

I love Aaron like a brother, don’t get me wrong, but DAMN HIM FOR BRINGING SUCH AN ASSHOLE INTO MY LIFE!

Douchey McGee: Hey Aaron said to message u.

He said: Get the fuck up Y/N!

Me: Tell him I said thnx and

and 2 not have the douche do

his dirty work.

Douchey McGee: Well fuck u 2 Y/N.

I sighed and crawled out of my hotel bed. We’d flown in late the previous night and I was still exhausted. I showered and got dressed in my ripped black skinny jeans, my black GAC shirt, and combat boots. I grabbed my hoodie and purse on the way out. Downstairs in the attached restaurant the rest of the crew were gathered for breakfast and much needed coffee.

“Morning gorgeous,” Aaron greeted.

“Fuck off Goodwin, I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” I said taking my seat beside him. “And by the way since when is boss man your own personal secretary.”

“And here I thought you didn’t know me as anything but Douche McGee, douche, or my personal favorite: Stubborn asshole son of a bitch.” Zak chimed in.

“Good morning to you too Satan,” I rolled my eyes.

I swear ever since we met Zak has made it his life mission to push my buttons in any way he can. But unfortunately for this psychotic fuck, two can play that game.

“Huh that’s original,” Zak continued.

I rolled my eyes and ordered an omelet with coffee. “So you gonna tell me when you decided to make boss man your bitch?” I asked Aaron.

“Well I figured I’ve been the bitch long enough so…” Aaron said.

“Dude, since when have I ever treated you like a bitch?” Zak asked.

“Every time you forced him to stay in a fucked up room by himself during an investigation like a fucking sadist?” I pointed out.

“Oh...right…” Zak said looking like he felt a tinge of guilt.

“Does that mean I’m a bitch too since he’s been doing the same thing to me lately?” Billy chimed in.

“Unfortunately,” I said just as my breakfast arrived arrived. “Oh, thanks.” I said to the waitress.

“Only you can go from bitchy to bubbly in zero seconds flat,” Zak said.

“Fuck you too, Bagans,” I muttered taking a bite of my omelet.

“Not in this life babe,” Zak muttered taking a sip of his coffee.

It continued like that even in the car on the way to the days location: Bly Manor. According to our sources Bly Manor was built in the 1800’s by Charles Bly, an Irish immigrant who made a fortune selling liquor and tobacco. By the time of the Civil War he decided to try his hand at weapons manufacturing which earned him enough to break ground on his dream house. He lived in the manor with his family. His wife Athena, and his daughter Josephine.

It said that on a sunny afternoon while do work in the Manor’s yard a man by the name of Bishop Wiley showed up and shot him dead. Supposedly Wiley’s son Robert was a soldier in the war and was killed by the very guns Charles helped build.

Charles has since been purported sighted walking the manor grounds. His wife Athena has been seen playing the piano, and wandering the halls. As for Josephine well… she was the most famous spirit of all.

“Josephine has been seen on the balcony of the Red Room,” explained our tour guide as we interviewed her. “The story goes that Josephine had met and fallen in love with a man at a nearby farm. And just before they were due to be married he left to fight in the war. She promised to wait for him there until his return. Hopeful that they could still marry and have a family. Sadly the man lost his life in Gettysburg. Charles felt so horrible he felt the need to keep it from her. So she continued to wait. And continues to wait to this very day.”

My heart ached for Josephine. It’s a whole other level of hell to lose someone so dear… I damn near jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Zak asked.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I said before following the tour guide.

We eventually took a break for lunch and then got ready for the investigation. Unlike most of the crew I made it a habit of carrying a small black backpack. I was just stuffing a recorder, spirit box, and MEL Meter when someone pat my shoulder.

“Hey are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Zak asked again.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m good, um, why the niceties?”

“I may be an asshole sometimes but I do feel for people now and then,” he said.

“Even me?” I arched an eyebrow at him. Before he could answer Aaron barged in needing to grab a spare lens for the camera.

We continued prepping in silence and then slowly but eventually the sun went down and moon shined bright.

Aaron, Zak, and I went in together. We worked together as a group for a while before (in true Zak Bagans fashion) we split up.

“Y/N I want you to stay up here for a while and see if Josephine will communicate with you,” Zak said.

“Alright,” I said stepping out onto Josephine’s balcony. Zak and Aaron disappeared through the Red Room door and I took out my recorder. “Josephine, are you here?” I started. “If so do you think you could answer a few questions for me? I promise you I mean no harm. Just speak into this little device for me.”

I felt a chill in the air but continued. “Why are you still waiting for him?” I asked. “Don’t you think he’s waiting for you on the other side?”

I suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness and anxiety. I slid down to the ground and then... He promised me. I kept thinking for some odd reason. He promised...he promised we’d go...he promised on the stars...he promised we’d be together.

The thoughts kept coming, and I don’t know when it started but I only realized I was crying when I felt someone shake me violently. “Y/N TALK TO ME DAMMIT!!!”

Zak knelt in front of me looking freaked. “D-Don’t ever leave me,” I cried. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“Josephine leave her alone, please,” Zak asked. “I know what happened to you was cruel and unfair but that doesn’t mean she should suffer like this.” Call me crazy but Zak actually sounded kind of pissed. There was another chill and he knelt beside me again. “I’m here  sweetheart…” He whispered brushing my cheek with his hand. “I’m here.”

I looked up at him and saw a face that was not his. His hair was chocolate brown and barely touched his shoulders, his eyes the same. My heart took off in joy and I threw my arms around him. He squeezed me before pulling back and taking my face in his hands. “Promise not to disappear on me again?” I asked.

“I promise,” he muttered before bringing his lips to mine. We kissed passionately as though it was a long time coming. After a while it felt like a weight lifted off me and my legs became limp. “WHOA!”

Zak caught me. It was for sure him this time. I was suddenly more aware of things...more awake. “Zak...what? What happened?”

“I dunno,” he said. “But I’m getting you the fuck out of here.”

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to the GAC van.

“You know you didn’t have to carry me right?”

“Says the girl who just nearly passed out on me,” Zak said setting me down in the back of the van.

“Um Zak did you want us to edit out the last bit of her footage or..?” Billy asked awkwardly.

“Edit it out? Why?” Zak asked. Blushing furiously Billy replayed the footage from the night vision cam we had facing the balcony. It showed me slowly crumbling and then…

“Oh sweet fucking Jesus,” I groaned as Zak and I started making out on screen.

“Uh...yeah I don’t think we need to uh-*cough*-show that,” Zak said turning back to me. “Are you, uh, gonna be okay?”

“Um...yeah I think so,” I said not entirely meeting his eye. “You-uh-you go ahead. I’m just gonna chill with Billy the rest of the night.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Now go before I drag you back in by your balls,” I threatened.

“Oh yeah you’re gonna be fine,” he said turning his back on me.

“You know you two are actually kinda hot together,” Billy said.

“What? Are you high? Zak and I can barely stand each other,” I said.

“Bull-fucking-shit Y/N,” Billy laughed. “We all can see there is insane tension going on between you. We just don’t get why you guys haven’t done anything about it.”

“What are we the hot gossip going around the office or something?”

“I mean, if this almost-porno is anything to go by...then yeah.”

“Billy I swear to God if I catching you jerking off to that—.”

“You’ll cut my nuts off I know,” he finished for me. “Besides I would never in hell jerk off to my best friend and his girl. It’s too weird.”

“I’m not his girl,” I snapped at him.

“Whatever you say Y/N,” Billy laughed. “Now did you wanna review this evidence with me or..?”

And so I did.

Once the investigation ended we packed up, caught a few minutes sleep then made our way back to Vegas.

Billy, Jay, and Aaron were dropped off first. Then it was just me and Zak.

Aaron: Try not to kill Zak please.

Me: No promises.

Zak then pulled up to my place.

“Are we never gonna talk about it?” I asked as he parked.

“What’s there to say?” he asked. “It-It was a freak incident. We-we weren’t ourselves.”

“True you were actually nice for once,” I said sarcastically.

Zak glared at me. “Go fuck yourself, Y/N.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward,” I blurted out. “I mean...um...fuck!” I sighed and stepped out of the car. I had just unlocked my door when…

“Y/N!” I turned around and saw Zak running up to me.

“Wha―” I was cut off by Zak slamming his lips to mine.

He kissed me hard, as though he was relieving an ache deep within his heart. I kissed back and clumsily opened my door. Zak picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carried me to my bedroom. He placed me on the bed and I reached up to pull his shirt off. I tossed it aside and eventually more articles of clothing followed.

Zak laid me back on the bed and started pecking a trail of kisses all the way down to my heat. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed and sucked on me. “HO-HOLY SHIT!”

To say Zak knew what he was doing would be an understatement. He didn’t stop eating me until I was writhing beneath him. “Z-ZAK!” My back arched and my toes curled up in the most powerful orgasm of my life.

He crawled back up to me, smirking. “Not much of an asshole anymore, am I?”

“Oh shut up,” I brought my lips back to his as I ran my hand up and down his length which like the rest of him was thick and hard. I suddenly felt him move my hand before he reached down and placed himself at my entrance. He kissed me once more before pushing in. “FUCK! How the fuck have you been single this long?”

“Demons tends to be excellent cock blocks,” Zak said as he started to thrust. “Lucky for us, they tend to stay away from you.”

“R-Really?”

He grunted then nodded. Despite his big, tough, persona Zak was actually really sensual and passionate in bed. He kept his thrusts gentle (probably because he knew his above average size could inflict some damage if he wasn’t careful) until I urged him to go faster and harder. After a while he flipped us over so that I was on top. I rode him hard, and Zak, being a gentleman, helped me out by thrusting up into me as I did.

The tension began building up inside me. “Fuck...Zak I-I think I’m gonna…” It hit me like a wave. I tightened around him, arching my back, and damn near screaming his name.

Zak flipped us over again and continued thrusting until he grew sloppy. I suddenly felt him twitch inside me as he cursed and groaned. His body shuttered as he painted my womb with his seed. Finally he collapsed beside me, both of us breathless.

“Wow,” I said.

“I know,” Zak said.

Once my breathing was under control I turned to him. “So...what now?”

He looked over at me.

“I guess we just be together,” he said. “It’s kind of what you do when you’re insanely in love with someone.”

“You’re in love with me?” I asked.

“I’ve always been in love with you,” he smiled. “Ever since we met...I just didn’t want the spirits in my life to hurt you so I decided to keep you away.”

“What changed?”

“Besides that they for some reason stay away from you?” I nodded. “I was tired of letting them get in the way of what I want. I was tired of being away from you.” He draped his arm over my waist. “I love you.” He muttered.

“I love you too,” I said pecking him on his swollen lips.

We spent almost every day together after that. It’s been a year and we are still together. Life was the same for the most part. We still investigated places, while not in bed or spending time with each other. The guys were relieved to see us together (at last) until our PDA became a little too much for them to handle. Oh and there was one other difference as well…

“Y/N BAGANS COME GET YOUR MAN HE’S BEING FUCKING TERRIFYING AGAIN!” Aaron shouted at me through the walkie.

“What happened to having the preggo investigator hang back all night?” I asked rubbing my stomach. Zak made everyone swear not to let me into the buildings with malicious spirits and demons.

“Y/N please,” Aaron begged.

I sighed and looked down. “Aaron Nicholas Bagans for the love of god don’t be a stubborn asshole like your daddy.”

With that I exited the van and went to save the love of my life.

[createandconstruct]

What are your thoughts on Kuja? In my opinion he is one of the best antagonists in the final fantasy series because he goes through some character development during the story and one can understand his motives

Another FFIX ask! And it's Kuja related!! First I have to admit I've only played FFVII, FFVIII, FFIX, and FFX, so I don't have the full scope of FF antagonists. From what I've played of the series Kuja is definitely one of my favorites so far. His development and motives contribute to that but I think what I like most about Kuja is that he's not the "Main villain" or "Final Boss" in terms of the game or its narrative. He's just another tragic cog in the machine of life, war, and death that has plagued Gaia for centuries.

The game appropriately pulls the rug out from under you multiple times to reveal the greater antagonist - which is immediately a trend for RPGs - but the way in which it is done in FFIX fits well with its portrayal of perpetrators of war. There is never just one "man." FFIX sets up Brahne as the "main antagonist" when you first begin. She's the evil queen trying hard to foil your adventure and the princess' escaping escapades. You soon learn however, that Brahne isn't simply fun and games, Garnet is leaving the castle to try and prevent the woman from starting a war. Brahne is creating and enslaving an entire race to serve as soldiers just for this pursuit for power, which she calls greed. But then you meet Kuja who the characters quickly identify as the one "pulling the strings" of war. He feeds Brahne's hunger for power and enables her by helping her obtain the eidolons to use as weapons of mass destruction, committing genocide against the Burmecian and Cleyrans. Thus, Kuja is hit with the spotlight as the one responsible for the black mages creation and their manipulation, and the one responsible for enabling and equipping Brahne with the weapons she desired. Note: Kuja’s actions do not remove responsibility from Brahne but just prove that she was just another pawn in someone else’s quest for power.

Yet Kuja is not at the top of the food chain. He has his own motives for obtaining power, as, due to his inability to trance, he feels he does not have enough. Disc 3, really had me spinning in my head the first time I played when we, the audience, are given a wider scope to learn of Garland (beyond the main characters) and find that once again, there is someone else playing puppet master of the Gaian wars and tragedies. Brahne is to Kuja what Kuja is to Garland. Puppets for their greater goals. And yet we keep going deeper because even Garland is a tool created by the Terrans in their desperate, unachievable goal of immorality - probably the greatest form of power a living creature could achieve. Though, the quest for power, no matter the nature of said “power,” is shown to always end in ruin and more importantly, regret.

Brahne dies, gaining a clear mind in her final moments realizing only then that her true happiness was enjoying peaceful days with her husband and adoptive daughter. No amount of power would return those days to her. Garland realizes he has failed in the quest for Terra and has allowed Kuja to become powerful enough to destroy Gaia - the planet that holds the only remains of his creators' planets. Garland dies asking Zidane to stop Kuja, unable to do nothing himself, failing in the end after a millennium of work. Interestingly, Amarant is the only one able to break this cycle because he accepts his weaknesses and the help of others. Learning to live besides those he'd viewed as weaker and insignificant. Because of this he ends his quest for power that he's being following using violence before it ends in regret and ruin.

Unfortunately, even after witnessing the fates of Brahne and Garland before him, Kuja only mocks them and denies the eventuality that death will come for him as well. When told straight out by Garland he is going to die, the idea that after all he has done, all the power he has accumulated, he will disappear, the world continuing on without him - he breaks. The end of the game is a true depiction of the worst an individual's fear of death can bring. After my first playthrough and some life experiences, when I replayed the game Kuja's breakdown at the end really hit me. Everyone has the realization at some point that after their death the world will continue on without them. Whenever we die, the people we love will continue living; there will be music, books, art, movies, and media we will miss and never experience; the world will continue going and changing without us. That realization, when you have it the first time, can numb you - especially when you don't have a healthy mind set or support system. Which is exactly what happens to Kuja. He is hit by the closing door of his mortality and so he does the only thing he can in his fear - close the door on everyone else so he doesn't have to go alone. Because that's what he's truly afraid of.

Which is why, Zidane's act of kindness at the end, simply sitting with Kuja as he passes, is probably one of most significant acts in the game and a closing message on how to overcome the fear we all have for the inevitability and loneliness of death. Simply put: do not be alone.

Kuja's end is the best one he could have had given his circumstances and actions. He passes with regrets and awareness of the tragedy and horror he has inflicted upon the world and people, but at least when he does go, he is not alone. I guess that's why he's a great antagonist to me.

Also, Darkness of Eternity is such a freaking jam. 11/10

[lassieposting]

💘 for violent?

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

This got uhhhh really long whoops sorry

where they first met and how

Vile shows up to a battle Mevolent is fighting and just. Joins in.

Mevolent doesn't personally spot him, but several of his officers do - Vile has no colours on his armour, so they have no idea which side he's on, and he doesn't seem to care very much which side the men he's killing are on either. He's after the big prize - the Sanctuary general leading the opposing side - but anyone who gets in his way is fair game, no matter who they support.

One of Mevolent's men reports this after the battle is over, because it's strange enough to warrant a mention: the Necromancers have hardly left their temples in a hundred years, why is this one showing up now? Mevolent dispatches some people to round up the stranger and bring him in (which makes for a lot of very uneasy soldiers), but they find him loitering around outside the camp and he surrenders without a fuss.

When he's brought to Mevolent, Mev has had some time to bathe and get changed and is lounging around in a bathrobe with a glass of wine. He asks some questions, Vile answsrs them. Mev idly mentions that Vile seems very confident for a man who killed some of Mevolent's own soldiers - ordinarily, this would be something Mev would execute him for. But Vile tosses the enemy general's head at Mevolent's feet - ("Killed a few of theirs, too.") - and essentially prompts, do you want me on your side, or theirs?

Mev takes him.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

Actually - from the first time they meet.

At some point, Mevolent prompts Vile to take the helmet off - it's rude not to, how is he ever supposed to trust a man he's never seen? And Vile knows it's a risk, but he's also fairly sure Mevolent never saw Skulduggery Pleasant up close anyway, so he does as he's asked.

Mevolent lets himself have a minute to be shocked. He was expecting another Baron. But Vile can't be any older than Nefarian, which means he's absurdly young to have that much power. And he's pretty, even if there's something...a bit off...about him.

(His first thought is that he's talking to Vile's reflection. He dismisses it almost immediately, but he knows something isn't right. He doesn't know that he's picking up on Vile needing A Lot of practice to get his fake body to look properly alive; he's a bit too pale, keeps forgetting to blink, he's unnaturally still...it's all a bit uncanny valley.)

He starts flirting shortly after that. Just a little bit, to see if Vile leans that way or if he's visibly uncomfortable. He hooks up with China occasionally and has Serpine in his bed whenever he wants him, but he's always after something new, and Vile's arrogance and lack of deference is as refreshing as it is irritating. It's not love at first sight or anything though - all he's after is another notch on his bedpost.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

They never actually discuss it, they just sort of...accidentally fall into monogamy? Their relationship begins with casual sex, stress relief on Vile's side and a novelty (someone who regularly tells him no and makes him work for it) on Mev's. As they realise they actually get along very well outside the bedroom, it becomes more friends with benefits. But somewhere along the line, Mevolent stops and realises that he hasn't shared his bed with anyone else in over a year - and he hasn't minded. His primary hesitation over getting married to Serafina is whether consummating his marriage will upset his lover, when all that should matter is the political power and money she brings witj her. And he realises that somehow, without his noticing, Vile has become more important than Mevolent ever intended for him to be.

who proposes first

It's. Less a proposal, and more a discussion. Sometime after Serafina's death, Mevolent starts getting social pressure to marry again. Mothers are starting to fling their daughters at him at every opportunity because they all want to be the mother of the new queen. And he doesn't want to do it again, have another political marriage that will definitely cause problems between him and Vile. He's in a position of considerable power by this point and his inner circle has been made aware of his sins thanks to Serpine, so he decides that fuck it, he wants to go public with their relationship.

Vile lets him - on the condition that it's not a big public spectacle. So Mevolent combines their family crests (called "impaling") which is what happens with married couples - so instead of having a banner with Mevolent's crest hanging in the Great Hall, it would be half his crest and half Vile's, joined together in the same shield (escutcheon). He has to have a crest drawn up for Vile, of course, but it's a quiet way of making it Very Clear that he's off the market.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

They're a secret for the better part of fifty years. Mevolent is taking a big risk getting involved with a heretic, so he doesn't want to chance being open about Vile until he's completely confident in his victory and his power as ruler of the world. Vile is absolutely fine with this arrangement - not because he cares what people think, but because it's court custom to fawn over Mevolent's favourites to try and curry favour with him, and being the highlight of a social event is Vile's idea of hell.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Nothing quite that romantic. Mevolent is over 1000 years old, and in ancient Ireland, if a couple decided they were married? They were married. There was no need for a ceremony or vows or a priest involved. They might announce it to a few witnesses, just to make it Extra Valid, but even that wasn't necessary.

That had changed quite a bit by the time Vile was born, but if Mevolent says something is legal, it's legal, because who's going to stop him? And he knows that's preferable to Vile, because he hates being the centre of attention. The sort of big extravagant ceremony he had when he married Serafina would have Vile running for the hills.

It's not valid in the eyes of the church, of course. Vile is a heretic - the church barely considers him human. It takes balls to say no to Mevolent, and it's not usually a wise idea, but that is just a little bit too far for the Faceless Priests, and they turn him down.

(He accepts it with good grace once he realises they really won't be pushed. Convincing Vile to say vows in a church of a religion he finds ridiculous would be. A Challenge™ anyway. He's learned to pick his battles over the years.)

Once they've decided "okay, we're in this for the long haul, guess we're married now" Mev takes off to one of his summer palaces for a month to "supervise repairs" and takes Vile with him "as a bodyguard", which is common enough that nobody bats an eyelid. They're long since back from their honeymoon by the time anyone realises that's what it really was.

if they adopt any pets together

Mevolent, like any self-respecting monarch, keeps horses.

Animals can sense death, so Vile is unsettling to them by nature. But he spends so much time around them that they eventually get desensitized to him. He's been a big rider all his life, surrounded by horses and riding and hunting since infancy, and he knows a lot about all things horse.

Mevolent starts feigning interest in the horses when he's trying to get Vile into bed, as an excuse to run into him and start talking. But he was born a peasant, raised a slave, and has only ever really seen the horses as a status symbol, proof of how far up he's come in the world, so he's not prepared for...quite how horsey real gentry can be. He tries to start a casual chat about maybe breeding this stallion with that mare, complete with a clever double entendre about how sometimes couples who don't look all that compatible on the surface have the most explosive chemistry, flirtily asks what Vile thinks, and Vile...infodumps all things horse-breeding at him for four hours straight. Which was not what he was expecting, but the enthusiasm is actually pretty endearing.

who’s more dominant

The short answer: Mevolent.

The long answer: It's complicated.

In bed, Mevolent dominates because Vile lets him. He gets off on the power exchange, microdosing the subby side he had as Skug by handing control over to someone he trusts not to hurt him. It's also part of how he tries to deal with his trauma - subconsciously reenacting having his control forcibly taken away when Serpine was torturing him (by willingly ceding it to Mevolent) but with a different, more enjoyable result. He still makes Mev work for it, though - he won't just roll over without a playfight first. That's part of the fun.

Outside the bedroom, their power dynamic is all over the place. Mevolent is Vile's boss. Vile is Mevolent's bodyguard. Mevolent is 600+ years older. Vile has been through hell and takes no shit from anybody. Mevolent is Vile's benefactor, as a heretic living in a theocracy that would burn him alive again. Vile is the most powerful Necromancer in known history.

It's a constant struggle for control between two very dominant personalities, and they thrive on it.

who’s more protective

They both have shades of this, even though they know the other can handle himself.

After the war is more or less over, and the affair is still going strong, Mevolent essentially assigns Vile to be his bodyguard. It's a good excuse to be together all the time, but Vile takes it seriously, and he's good at it. He's the one who warns Mevolent about Aby's assassination plot, and he also foils Serpine's bid for Mevolent's throne - he might have gotten the better of Mevolent alone, because he took him by surprise, but Mev and Vile fight as a team and cover each other's weak spots, so once Vile arrived, Serpine had to cut and run.

Mevolent is protective too, but he's less sensible about it. He sends Vengeous to investigate the draugar, even though Vile would've been the obvious choice - if nothing else, he has the ability to shadow-walk out of danger, which Mevolent would've known would be useful. But he sent Vengeous in blind, and took Vile to safety instead. On top of that, Vengeous is methodical and organised in a way Vile could never hope to match - he actually would've been more useful to Mevolent during a large-scale evacuation, just as Vile is perfect for one-man in-and-out recon missions. But keeping Vile safe was more important.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

Vile joins Mevolent in early 1854, they first have sex in late 1854 and first sleep together while Vile is recuperating in early 1855.

Mevolent marries Serafina in 1856, so their early years are full of drama.

if they argue about anything

"But really, do you think the gods will punish me for this [relationship]? Oh, stop laughing. I'm serious."

"Perhaps? How tragic. No Faceless heaven for you. Not that you'd enjoy it anyway. Nobody will fuck you once your face is all melted. You wouldn't cope."

"Do you have any idea how tempting it is sometimes to just have you executed?"

"Then nobody would be fucking you in this life either."

(They've been having this argument for 200 years.)

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

When they're really going at it, Mevolent tends to leave little finger-bruises where he's been holding Vile up or pinning his wrists. Vile is the one who leaves scratchmarks. And he actually bites - mostly Mevolent's bottom lip, when he's pissed off about something. Mev doesn't mind though - if they're in the mood for rough, they both enjoy a good power struggle.

On a soft day, it's just hickeys from both of them, but Mevolent also gives Vile several sigil tattoos, so (aside from the fact that they're invisible until they're used) he definitely leaves more marks.

who steals whose clothes and how often

Vile - mostly to doss around their rooms in when he can't be bothered to get dressed or they'll be fucking again shortly so there's no point. He also steals Mevolent's shirts and robes if he's injured - the good thing about having a partner so much bigger than you is that everything is baggy as hell. Perfect for hiding bandages or not chafing a healing wound.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

Vile's a burrower. He likes to get as close as he can, to steal as much body heat as possible, and bury his face in Mevolent's chest/neck/shoulder. It's a leftover thing from Serpine's dungeon - protecting his face while he snatches at sleep so he can't be woken by a sudden kick or punch to a vulnerable area. He's also that horrible gremlin partner who will use Mev's skin to warm his cold hands/nose/feet on.

Mevolent often absentmindedly plays with Vile's hair while he's waiting to fall asleep, just as something to do while he's thinking over anything he has to do the next day, etc. So he'll doze off with one hand tangled in the curls and the other resting on a hip or thigh or back.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

They have A Lot in common. They're both big readers, they both like tactical games like chess, they spar together and teach each other battle tricks, they both like to ride, they both enjoy music and poetry and culture. They're also that couple who like to be antisocial together - Mevolent will get on with his paperwork at his desk, and Vile will be on the couch with a book, and they'll sit there in silence together for hours, just being companionable.

how long they stay mad at each other

Long enough for angry sex. That's usually how their fights get worked out.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Mevolent got a taste for green tea while he was campaigning overseas during the war, and still prefers it now. Vile drinks a bitter black atrocity, and anyone with sense won't speak to him until he's had at least one in the morning.

if they ever have any children together

I do have an AU where Mevolent decides he does actually want an heir, and they end up raising Caisson together - or rather, Mevolent raises Caisson dubiously assisted by Vengeous and Serpine, and Vile claims hs wants nothing to do with "the brat", but can't help sticking his nose in every five minutes because he has residual Dad Instincts and Mevolent is doing it wrong. Any family where Lord Vile is the responsible parent is probably not going to churn out a particularly well-adjusted child, though.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

Nope. They go into it as a casual thing, very much expecting it to fizzle out once one or both of them has had their fill. Two hundred years later, they're still together.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

A very grand, opulent goth baroque palace. Mevolent spent a lot of his youth in medieval France, and he was highly influenced by extravagant court style. He likes to be surrounded by beautiful things, and his home is no different.

(Yes, material wealth is a sin. No, he's not sorry.)

He likes rich, dark colours and fabrics, ornate furnishings and dark wood and disturbing religious artwork. He also indulges his own vanity every now and then by commissioning religious artwork of himself - including an exquisite stained glass window in the Great Hall, which Vile scoffs at for a year or so and then gleefully flings Abyssinia through.

Most of the day to day running of Mevolent's household is down to a small army of servants, which poses some problems for him early in his relationship with Vile. A maid will slip into his room early in the morning to light the fire so that the room has time to warm before he has to get up for morning prayers. Another servant delivers his breakfast, and for quite some time he has a valet who helps him dress. Any of them could see Vile in his bed and let the secret out.

Luckily for Mevolent, for all his faults, he's a good boss to work for. He knows all the servants he interacts with by name, and asks after their families. He's well-liked, and although the servants know about Vile a long time before Mevolent's inner circle, it's Serpine who spills the beans, not one of the workers.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They have a rather warped version of a regular date night.

When Mevolent is interrogating Valkyrie, and she thinks she hears Skug coming to save her, three things are really notable:

1) Mevolent knows those footsteps too, and he smiles when he hears them. So not only is he happy to see Vile, this is probably something they do at least semi-regularly - interrogating interesting or high-profile prisoners together. Either Mevolent sent for him, or he knows Vile is too curious to not come look in on an interrogation.

2) The fuckin? Horny shadows? Mevolent has just died a violent death here, Necromancers are confirmed to be able to sense the lingering echoes of death and pain and anguish, and Vile's shadows are like mmmm tasty. This is where the headcanon comes from that he's rabid horny for recently-resurrected Mevolent. And Mev knows he does this, just soaks up all that energy, and he doesn't care. Love is letting your SO get a bit high on your agony vibes every day, I guess?

3) Vile comes to stand right beside the throne, without so much as a hello. This is...considerably more informal than the relationship Mevolent seems to have with Vengeous. In fact, for some reason Mevolent seems to treat Baron very unkindly in Leibniz - Vile is still very much a general and Mevolent's personal bodyguard, but Vengeous has been demoted to prison guard in all but name. When Mevolent starts investigating the draugar, he sends Vengeous into a situation that will very likely kill him, but takes Vile - the most powerful Necromancer alive and a living nuclear bomb of power - with him when he evacuates the city and flees for safety, even though the logical move would've been to reverse those assignments. Vengeous is clearly not personally close with Mevolent, but their synchronicity, constant proximity and the way others speak about them (like Serpine's lapdog comment) imply that Vile is.

This is actually the scene that made me start shipping them in the first place.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Vile isn't a great sleeper - he has nightmares, and he'll often get up several times in the night for water or to go onto the balcony for fresh air or to quietly freak out in the bathroom for half an hour. But he sleeps better once he's sharing a bed with Mevolent. Mev generally runs hot, and he actually quite likes to be close, so he's A-OK with Vile burrowing into his side or under his arm and leeching all his body heat. When he's warm and feels safe, he has fewer nightmares, and he's more likely to get a decent amount of sleep.

Mevolent doesn't always wake first, but he does get up first: he goes to morning prayers, and leaves Vile to sleep in because he's a rotten little heretic.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Mevolent is the big spoon. Vile was freakishly tall for most of the centuries he's been alive - the average height of an enlisted soldier in the 16th/17th centuries was 5'5 - 5'6, and 25% of recruits were under the required height to use a musket (5'). So having someone he can sprawl out over who makes him feel small and protected is a novelty.

who hogs the bathroom

Vile. He has long-ass baths because he likes to nap in the warm water. He gets cold easily because he's technically dead and making his fake body thermoregulate takes focus he often just doesn't have, so he just sprawls out in a hot bath or in front of the fire like a fuckin lizard under a heat lamp

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

The servants. They live in a palace. There's an entire staff dedicated to cleaning and tidying and keeping the entire massive building shipshape. Neither of them have to lift a finger.

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 7. Home Sweet Home

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The quest for relevant gifs continue as we begin this chapter with a cheeky little flashback. Hope you all had a happy end of 2020 and may all your 2021 goals come to fruition.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

The school bell rang. All the kids packed up their things and got into a line to walk out the school to their parents. You were told to always take the back of the line, that way when all the other kids walked out the door to meet their parents, you could break off and run down to the teacher’s cafeteria. You’d stand outside the door and fifteen minutes later your father would arrive, usually with another two teachers in tow. Everyday you’d see him round the corner then drop your bag and sprint your little legs down to him. He’d pick you up in his arms and place a big kiss on your cheek.

“How was your day princess? Did you give Janet a hard time?” he’d ask, to which you’d always shake your head no. He’d smile at you before placing you back on the ground, then you’d run back to your bag and your father would bring you back to his classroom where he taught other kids. He’d correct work for a bit while you did your homework, usually at a desk far too big for you but it was still easier then the kitchen table.

After you had finished your homework your father would let you pull out pencils and paper and draw until either he had finished his corrections or it was time to go. It was 1985 and you were strapped into the backseat of your father’s car with ‘Out Of Touch’ on the radio. You were six years old and living the high life in the back of your daddy’s car on the way to your suburban house where your mom was cooking pasta for dinner after a long-shift at 7/11.

You woke up when the light hit your eyes, stirring you from the peaceful childhood dream of speeding down the country rode while The Bangles sang out. You were lying on a hard bed in what looked like a med-bay made out of an office. Realisationed hit you like a truck that this was the Sanctuary and you shot up, immediately regretting it when everything started to hurt.

“Woah Woah, easy.” A man chided as he jumped to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders to stop you from getting out of the bed. You yelled at him to get off you as you swung at him, sending him backwards. In a moment another two were on you, a man and a woman.

“Tie her before she pulls out her IV!” the woman yelled. The first man stood up and began strapping you in using broad leather straps while the other two put their weight on you.

You struggled as best you could, still exhausted and something heavy on your leg. “Let. me. Out!” you yelled as you pushed against the bonds.

“Get Daryl” one of the women commanded, the second man running out. “Try not to pull that IV out. We can’t patch you up if you do.” she commented, walking around to tend to the man you punched. At this angle you could see the four barred tattoos on her neck. You recognised her, but it seemed she didn’t recognise you. Or at least wasn’t saying anything.

“What are you gonna do to me?” you asked, trying to hide your fear. The man glared at you from where he sat on another hospital bed, his eye turning bruised.

“Nothing.” The woman commented. “Bosses orders” the man scoffed at that, earning a slap to his chest by the woman.

“What? You actually think Daryl is the boss. Negan had him putting dead ones on the fence! He should still be doing that!” the woman punched him in the chest

“Knock it off,” she chided “Unless you wanna get punished”

“He doesn’t do that shit” the man grumbled.

“Do you wanna be the reason he starts doing it?” You couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was your nerves at the situation but their banter was completely unexpected. She turned around and looked at your tied down giggling figure. “What’s so funny!?”

“You sound like his mom” you turned your head to look at them as you spoke, a smile on your face.

“She bitches like the old hag too” the man chirped, earning a more playful slap from the woman. This was good, the tension was being lifted if only slightly.

“Sorry for punching you. New surroundings, ya know.” you piped up, hoping to take advantage of the tension drop.

“Yea well, you're not getting out of those belts” the man retorted, nodding towards the binds

“That’s fair” you sigh. Looks like you’ll need a new plan. Maybe some info, but you’d have to give a little to get a little “So are you gonna kill me? Like your friends tried to”

“What you mean?” The man asked

“Couple of people broke into my safe house, said they were saviours and they were gonna kill me to save their friends.” you stared at the ceiling, trying to feign complete helplessness. “Are you with them?”

“No, but-” the woman shushed him again, but that did nothing to deter the man. “We used to be, then a war happened and our boss got locked up and they put an outsider in to look over us”

‘Locked up?’ you thought ‘so he’s not dead.’ you bit your tongue to contain your happiness. “I can’t say I’m sorry” you said after a beat, “So...I’m gonna live?” you looked at them with intentionally wide eyes. The woman looked pissed, but she nodded. You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes. A beat or two later the man returned with Daryl and a grey-hair woman in tow.

“Get those off her!” Daryl ordered.

“It’s okay” you interjected. “I punched your friend there. Kinda earned this”

“Nah” the first man perked up “If I had been jumped then woke up in a strange place I’d have acted out too,” he moved over and started opening the belts, Daryl working on the others. You slowly pulled yourself up, Daryl jumping to your side to help you into a sitting position.

“You alright?” Daryl asked. You looked over now realising your palms were bandaged and your leg was in a splint. You reached up to your aching head and felt a bandage with your fingers.

“I’ve been better” you spoke low, still in a great deal of pain.

“What happened?” the grey haired woman asked. You spun a story of a bunch of people claiming to be saviours who entered your apartment with the plan of ambushing and killing Daryl, how you burned down the apartment and jumped out the window for your escape. The grey haired woman listened to you with growing worry on her face. “Did you kill them all?” she pushed

“I don’t know.” you admitted

“What do you mean you dont know!” she snapped

“Carol-” Daryl started

“No, if there’s people out there claiming to be saviours and hurting people then we’re gonna look bad in front of the other settlements.” Carol snapped back.

“She’s right,” the messenger added. “We’ll have to do something.”

“These were our brothers” the punched man spoke out “We can’t just kill them.”

“They didn’t give us a choice” Daryl snapped. “Y/N barely got out alive and she’s been living out there for months. What if they get someone who can’t hold their own!” he went to storm out but you reached out of the bed and grabbed his arm, yelling out in pain at the strain.

“Don’t” you warned, after Daryl and the woman helped you back into the bed. “If they’re still there then they’re barricaded and have significant advantage.”

“Well what do you purpose we do?” Carol asked. Your breath was getting heavy.

“Anybody got a map of DC? And maybe a pencil”

The original messenger boy got you a map and a pen. You marked out where your apartment had been, as well as some buildings that had fallen apart with age. “They said they were watching me, which means they could be in any of these” you marked around the stable buildings that could make for a hide, which was surprisingly few. “This is my hideout in city centre” you said marking the building

“You never mentioned another safe house.” Daryl spoke up, you smirked

“A girl needs her secrets.” you handed the pen to Daryl “What route did you take to my place?” he lined in his route.

“What if they’re farther?” Carol asked.

“They’re not.” you spoke firmly “They were watching me for long enough they knew when Daryl wouldn’t be around which means they made their place comfortable, and I bet a couple of them got injured in the fire, meaning they’re gonna have to lay low and patch themselves up,” You explained. Your body finally gave way and you fell back on the pillows. The woman jumped to your help, telling the others to go. She made you comfortable in the bed, you drifting off to sleep again not long after.

“How’d you know they’re there?” she asked later that evening when you were awake, eating some acorn mush, “How are you sure?”

You could sense she was worried. “I was in the military before all this” you answered. “Our job was to sneak into enemy territory to help our fellow soldiers or civilians. We used to make maps like that, using where our friends got attacked as a central point to where the enemy could be hiding” she nodded as you explained, though still visibly nervous. “They’ll be fine” you tried to reassure her. “If they’re not nearby, they’ll have to get through hordes of walkers before they’ll be somewhere safe. You’re friends will get them”

She seemed to be reassured, If only a little. “You know I’m meant to be looking after you,” she breathed out, a tear sneaking over her cheek. She wiped it away before it could fall. “I’m Laura, by the way”

“I’m Y/N”

The following morning they all returned, with the exception of Daryl. “You were right” Laura informed you. The ‘saviours’ were held up barely a block away and now they were dead.

“Where’s Daryl?” You asked when Carol visited you.

“He took off for Alexandria” Carol replied. “I’m in charge now.”

“Oh” you spoke, clearly disappointed. Carol ordered Laura to leave, putting you on high alert. She pulled up a chair and looked you in the eyes with a dead stare.

“What is your relationship with Daryl?” she asked bluntly. You cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate so I can give you an answer you’d be happy with, Carol.” you replied helpless from the bed. She knew you couldn’t run, yet she was putting on this show of bravado? She seemed to accept your request though.

“Up until three days ago we didn’t know Daryl had a secret lady hiding in the city. We want to make sure Daryl isn’t keeping secrets that can hurt us.” she spoke a little more relaxed now, but still direct. She reminded you of your mother in a way, whenever she noticed a cookie was missing, or later in life, her vodka had been replaced with water.

“So Rick, Carl, or Tara hadn’t mentioned me either?” those names spurred on some recognition. “Guess not” you sighed, thinking on how to break to this woman you had tried to kill two of her friends. You came to the conclusion that you shouldn’t. “I traded with Carl and Rick for some medical supplies. Few months later Tara, Rick, and Daryl stumbled into my area needing help so I did. Daryl’s been trading with me since.”

“What kind of trade?” she pushed.

“Food,” you answered. “He’s been feeding me, in return I’ve been getting him stuff. Blankets, bandages, jeans, kid’s shit like bottles, and toys-”

“And raincoats with little butterflies on it?” Carol interrupted you. You nodded and whispered a ‘yeah’ under your breath. “I have a niece called Judith. She’s trying to name all the butterflies.” she spoke lovingly of the child and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a small girl pointing at water-proof butterflies giving them cute names. She probably gave them different names every time she listed them.

The smile faded as you remembered the world isn’t that simple anymore. “So what now?” you asked.

“You’ll stay here” Carol ordered. “You’ll do your part, whatever way you can.”

You nodded in agreement “I know this might be a big ask considering we just met but,” you began, taking a big breath to try and stave off the tiredness, “Could I help here? In the hospital. I was a combat medic before this so it’s probably the best way I can help.”

And it could be a great way to weed out who knows who you are and threaten them into keeping their mouth shut, or even shutting it for them.

Your request was granted, under the watchful eye of Laura, and so began your new life at The Sanctuary.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch​ @lauren-novak​

[babylooneytoonz]

Author's Note: I got this as a request, but decided to turn this into a fic. Thank you to whoever this person was who requested it. 💗

Summary: Your first meeting with Sergeant Barnes wasn't exactly charming, hell, it was a disaster. And the only adjectives that came to your mind when you thought about him were words like prick, bastard and a jackass. He made your life hell, and you lived to make sure you made him suffer. And neither of you realized, how your sole mission of tormenting each other became the most important part of your life.

Set somewhere after Avengers Civil War. My book does not follow the storyline, and will not include the events of Infinity War and Endgame. I do not take credit for any of the characters, except for my OC/Reader.

Warnings: 18+ [Will include SMUT, curses and violence] // Bucky Barnes is an ass

Coffee Stains - Masterlist

Coffee Stains

You almost didn't realize how late it was; the sun had set hours back, and the moon was now shining bright, pale white glow radiating from its cheeks like White ivory spread over the ground outside. You finally decided to stop working, and instead head home. So, you shut your laptop, pushing your glasses over the bridge of your nose, and finally stood up. The SHEILD headquarters was still hustling and bustling with people. People kept walking past your office door, most of them in a hurry as you joined them in the hallway, making your way towards the elevator.

Your father had worked for SHEILD, having been one of the building blocks, along with Nick Fury, and now you, being his daughter, there was nothing more you had ever wanted to do but to dedicate yourself entirely to SHEILD. So here you were, associated with SHEILD, for almost two years now.

You didn't realize when in the bubble of your mind, the kinesis of your thoughts, a woman had stepped out of her office and was making her way towards you, but not after having called your name almost three times. When she reached the elevator, she let out a soft huff, which was enough to finally put you out of your trance.

"Maria, I'm sorry, didn't see you there," you retorted, a little flustered and pink at the cheeks.

The woman almost gave you a tight lipped smile, and slowly, her long, slender arms came to cross on her chest, her left foot almost tapping against the tiled floor of the headquarters, "I've been calling your name, you didn't respond. You alright?"

You thought for a moment, your glossy eyes looking down at her feet before back up on her face again, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah, just thinking. Is there anything you needed?"

"Not me, Fury wanted to see you before you left."

You nodded, pursing your lips slightly and gave her a ghost of a smile before taking a step back and craning your neck towards Fury's office once and then back, " Well then, I guess I'll pay the boss a visit." The two of you exchanged a light hearted chuckle, and you waved Maria off as she stepped into the elevator with two more agents, and you slowly made your way up to Nick Fury's office.

You stood awkwardly at the glass door, bringing your palm up to the glass and knocking on it. Inside the office, the bald headed man with a patch on one of his eyes slowly looked up, and when he saw you, a hint of a smile broke out on his lips as he nodded, and you stepped in.

"You wanted to see me?"

You and Fury shared an easy going relation; he reminded you of your dad, for the two of them had served together before your dad was killed in action, and ever since, Nick Fury had taken it upon him, to watch over you like a father figure.

"Come on in Y/N, I wanted to speak to you."

Shutting the door, you walked up to where he was seated and slowly lowered yourself on the empty chair in front of him, your elbows coming to rest on the surface of the desk.

"So– " He began, sitting back more comfortably, and also to keep a better eye at your expressions and reactions, "With Natasha Romanoff out on a mission, the Avengers are in need of a dire back up agent."

Your eyebrow shot up at his words, not understanding where he was getting at. As though he sensed your confusion, he continued, "A position is open. The Avengers are looking for someone to join the team. And I recommended your name."

It was as though your ears managed to block out every word that Fury said except for the part that he had recommended your name. Avengers had only been a distant dream for you till now. They really intrigued you; and you had done your research on almost everyone of them, except for the newbies of course that you hadn't had the chance to meet. Your lips parted in surprise, and a soft gush of air managed to escape your lips.

"Fury, I – I don't know."

"They asked us for the best we've got, and although it's been a long time we've sent you on our mission, you're the best we've got. I couldn't say no," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood for he was now able to sense that you were starting to get nervous.

"Holy shit." You finally managed to form words, not the best choice of words that you could have formed, but you were so surprised, you didn't know what to say.

"Rest up, Y/N. Tomorrow, we go to the Avengers Towers, and meet your new team."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The next day, you woke up earlier than you usually did, but you knew that it was your part excitement part anxiety bubbling up that had kept you tossing and turning in bed all night. You had gone over all the possible scenarios that could happen today, at the Avengers Towers, on why the Avengers would think that you weren't cut out for this. You were really good, there was no doubt about that; you were trained in hand to hand combat, espionage, you were good with weapons, with the small guns and also the big ones; you could say you were pretty good with your sniping skills. But, you hadn't been on a mission for the SHEILD in a long time, especially not after your messy divorce with Wallis, your ex husband who had been your colleague and your partner at SHEILD, the one person you always went on missions with. It had taken you a long time to come out of the emotional trauma that came with a separation, and to worsen it all, he had been the one that you had caught with another woman in your bed, on a night you almost escaped death, on one of your solo missions.

You were already dressed and ready by the time you were picked up and dropped off at the Stark Towers, with Fury by your side.

You wouldn't lie if you would say that you were starstruck, by just a look at the exterior of it. It was heavenly. And the interior. You didn't even want to comment on it, it was that breathtaking, a complete opposite to the SHEILD headquarters.

"Like it?" Fury chuckled next to you, breaking your thought process, and a faint hue of a blush to grace your cheeks. As the two of you got into the elevator, you turned around and gasped slightly at the sight of the entire city of Manhattan right there in front of your eyes, from a little glass box.

"Friday, Tony's lab, please. Thank you."

"Right away, Director, and Miss Y/N," the AI chortled back, causing your eyes to widen even further. Friday was like a celebrity to you, and now finally you were here, at a place you had only dreamt of being, and the reality was slowly sinking in.

The elevator pinged open, and Fury was the first one to step out, followed by you as the two of you walked into what looked like a really high technology lab. Your eyes marvelled at the sight, and you just looked around, your eyes scanning through it all, your mind still in a daze.

"Welcome, welcome to my humble abode," there he was, the man himself, the man behind all of this, the famous Tony Stark. Although you had met him before, and Steve and Natasha as well, it was back at the SHEILD headquarters.

"Tony Stark, long time no see."

"Well, I've been busy you see," he smirked smugly at you, but soon, a small smile paved its way over his lips and he slowly engulfed you in a warm hug.

"Welcome home, I always did say to Fury."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, side glancing your boss, who was, for a change, having a smile of his own over his lips.

"You always belonged with us, here at the Avengers Towers. He never really let you go," he gave Fury a look and then, his friendly demeanor altogether changed and a professional look took over his face, his features turning stoic. "Now Fury have you spoken to her about her trainings?"

"Not yet."

"Great, so–" Tony dramatically clapped his hands together, "With a great position comes great responsibilities."

"With power you mean?" You chuckled.

"Yes yes. And that," he winked playfully, only to straighten up again. "But that power needs to be harnessed. You will be put into training, like all the newbies we get and we will get to decide when and if you have what it takes to be one of us."

Fury nodded, and you looked at him, noting how he was beaming at you, like a proud father, causing your confidence to boost up as you nodded in Tony's direction.

"When do we start?"

"Hold that thought, ah, Friday? Can you please ask Captain to join us, please?"

"Right away, Mr. Stark." The AI replied.

"Well then, so that fixes it."

A comfortable silence fell over the lab and Tony walked off to look at something on one of his screens. You fixed yourself by the glass staring out at the picturesque view of the city of Manhattan. It wasn't long when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, and finally when you heard Fury greet Steve, you realized he had joined the lot of you. The minute you turned around, your eyes fell on him and with a soft smile, you nodded in his direction, "Mr. Rogers."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Bucky wasn't having the best day.

At first, he had woken up to bone chilling nightmare. If that wasn't all, he had taken his motorcycle out for a ride, and somehow he had parked it when he had reached the cliff, and made his way to the edge to just stare at the horizon, when someone had somehow managed to steal the bike. And if that wasn't the worst part of the day, he was sexually frustrated and utterly sex deprived as he had just returned yesterday from almost a month long mission.

Sam being the nice person he was, had tried to warn most of te people to stay out of Bucky's way today; because today, he was really biting.

But he really hadn't warned you.

Because he still didn't know who you were.

After having met with Steve in Tony's lab, Fury had left, and Steve had opted to walk you around the facility, until he had dropped you off at your apartment on the seventh floor. He had told you that you were to share this floor with a few of the Avengers, but he was in a hurry so he had asked you to come find him later in the evening. Besides, you had to be ready to train with him today at 7 in the evening.

It was already 5 by the time you stepped into your apartment; your eyes widening in awe when you saw the interior of it. The furniture was sleek and modern, made out of the best quality of wood there could be, and the walls were painted a spotless white, numerous abstract paintings hanging on the walls.

You gotta hand it to Tony, the man sure did have a taste.

It didn't take you long to fill the walk in closet up with your clothes, and even after filling up the two bags that you had brought over, you couldn't help but marvel at how much space the closet still had for more stuff, giving you an inspiration to shop for a dozen more outfits. However, now wasn't the time to think about it, and instead you decided to grab yourself a mug of coffee from the kitchen, so you could be alert and fresh for your training session with Captain.

Whistling to yourself, and with the help of Friday, you did manage to find your way to the massive kitchen, adjoining the spacious recreation room that was empty when you reached. Walking into the kitchen, you filled up your mug with piping hot coffee to the brim, and lifted the mug up, walking out of the kitchen.

Little did you know that a mistake was bound to happen on your first day here.

Bucky had just stepped out of the gym, dressed in a tight white tank top and his joggers, his hair all sweaty and sticking to his face. At first he had decided to hop right into the shower, and maybe get a little frisky, but at the last moment, he finally gave up on that idea, having decided to stall the shower for a little more time so he could grab himself a granola bar from the kitchen.

Although his feet made a lot of ruckus as he walked into the recreation room, and towards the kitchen, but perhaps you were so engrossed in licking your lips, eyeing the mug of coffee in your hands that you failed to hear him come in.

You stepped out of the kitchen at the exact same time when he tried to enter, and you ended up crashing into him, your hot coffee spilling all over his white tank, causing a massive stain.

Bucky cursed as the coffee came in contact with his flesh, a faint hissing sound escaping from his lips, which was probably due to the burn that he could now feel on his abs. His eyes turned venomous instantly, and his face contorted in fury.

"Even with a pair of glasses on, you still cannot watch where you going?" He barked at you, in a rude tone.

You looked at the stain on his abs, and then back up at him, not failing to notice the blue in his eyes, mentally cursing yourself for how clumsy you were.

"I – I'm really sorry, I –" You started stammering, only to be cut off by him again.

"Your sorry won't fix the mess you made, would it?" Sarcasm dripped through his words, and now, you were starting to feel how this man was simply overreacting. You spilling a piping hot mug of coffee over him wasn't really that much of a big deal, was it?

"Let me wash it –"

"We have machines that does that stuff for us, you really don't have to bother. Now, if you don't mind, you are in my way," the blue eyed man simply huffed, his face slowly turning cold and emotionless, as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching you and waiting for you to move out of his way. Maybe you weren't that fast in moving; and you understood this when you felt him roughly push himself past you, ignoring the way you fell to your side by the weight of his body, almost crashing against the doorframe and hurting your side.

"Really? Did you just fucking push me?"

This time, you turned around, your eyes contorted in fury, and your lips laced together, in a hope that pressing your lips together like that would stop your curses from flowing out.

"Would you rather have had me jump over you? You aren't exactly small."

He had his back now turned towards you, his body bent over the fridge as he callously moved his hands through the contents of the fridge.

"Prick."

Shaking your head, you took a step away, leaving the now empty mug of coffee on the slab before making your way out of the kitchen.

You were fuming.

(Feedback is always appreciated.)

Want to be added to any of my taglists? Please fill out the form on this link. 💗

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

In a way the whole "Izuku is the Dragonborn" fic would need to leave most of the backstory of Izuku the 4-14 years old dragon slayer on luck or Inko doing all the work while Izuku is, like, put in a position of safety (he still needs to eat dragon souls tho, same for Miraaks... How would that work even?) So I might need to move things around a bit.

Basically here's the backstory on all major shit:

Helgen: Inko and Izuku run away with Hadvar. They are not scheduled for execution because, you know, Hadvar might not go out of his way for a stranger but there is a small kid involved, younger than his cousin dammit, way younger than your usual Stormcloak Child Soldier Conscript from Dawnstar (an actual canon thing believe it or not) so he puts his foot down. In the keep Hadvar does most of the work obviously, even if Inko does, in her desperation, cut down people getting dangerously close to Izuku. She is a better lockpick than she expected, especially with her Quirk, and Izuku in his curiosity ends up pawing off the book and a strange, mysterious ring inside the Mage's cell. They then go to Riverwood with Hadvar, where they are directed to both Farengar and the College for matters regarding magical space travel, so to speak.

Riverwood: However, they are pennyless and alone in a foreign world, so Inko tries first to make money by working at the local lumber mill as she sends a courier to Whiterun for the Dragon Thing. Assume we are playing with my modded version of the game, which means Riverwood is currently the home of one Triss Merigold from the Witcher. She is also spacially displaced as of late, and is searching for Yennefer, Ciri and Geralt, with whom she jumped into this reality before getting lost from them. Dorthe and Frodnar will direct the small Izuku to her, since Dorthe is the one "babysitting" Izuku while his mother works so he's playing with the slightly older kids. Basically, they know she is a mage of some sort since she showed them some sort of light show, and Inko still needs to make money if she wants to leave with the proper equipment so they can't even go to Farengarym yet.

This allows us to 1) Set up the Triss Merigold X Midoriya Inko endgame and NO I AM NOR FUCKING STUTTERING and 2) Give Inko a competent bodyguard of sorts before she actually does get used to the unforgiving land of Skyrim and starts giving people heart attacks with her Quirk.

Of the Major Guilds:

Companions: Inko Joins as a way to make money for Izuku. With the mercenary work she manages to buy the house in Whiterun, so now Izuku can be left in a safe location, with "Aunt" Lydia as his babysitter. Whiterun Shenanigans ensue with Izuku befriending Lucia and Lars. Also Braith but, like, after lots of character development. Lucia is obviously the first to be adopted.

Inko is the one who becomes a werewolf and the Harbinger in the end, Izuku is not involved in this Storyline outside of some encounters with "Aunt" Aela and "Uncles" Vilkas and Farkas. Inko renounces her condition in the end.

College of Winterhold: They move to winterhold together since Farengar can't help them. Izuku is actually a quick study, as exemplified to that one spell book he found in helgen that thought him within seconds how to shoot lightning from his hands, much to his mother's worry. He ends up killing a bandit in self defense that way when he's barely 5. It was either do that or let them get to his mom.

Anyway, Inko is enrolled, but so is Izuku, the two now living on College Grounds. Triss is also there as an honorary lecturer. Anyway, Whe most of the adventuring is still done by Inko, is Izuku who receives the visit of the Psijic Order and, ultimately, he is the one to kill Ancano and close the eye of Magnus. Inko becomes Archmage still, even if she tries her hardest to have Toldfir step up instead.

The way Izuku kills Ancano is actually more based on guile than actual magical prowess. He is the only one not paralyzed in the boss fight, so what he does, is grab one of J'Zargo experimental Scrolls, summon a Skeleton Minion (Oblivion spell he was recently taught so to have someone protecting him in times of crisis), and then run with it against Ancano, too busy as he is being a megalomaniac, suicide bombing himself. He survives, but only thanks to the Restoration Professor quick intervention as Ancano dies and the paralysis falters.

Restoration magic did save the day in the end.

J'Zargo, who is usually aloof and snarky over his experiments, is actually horrified his rival's son almost got killed because of him, so he pledges he will do everything in his power to find a way to help them with their issue. He is a great magician after all, and his class is one of the brightest to date, they can find a way out for them.

Dragon War: Since all they can do now is wait for the College, Inko returns to Whiterun with Izuku and Triss, but on the way the watchtower is attacked, Mirmulmir is slain, and Izuku absorbs his dragon soul. This jumpstarts the events of Skyrim, with Izuku and Inko having to go on a pilgrimage to High Hrothgar to better understand what is happening to her son, who is now terrified of talking least he blew his mother apart with his voice.

A 5 years old kid makes a poor warrior, so the Greybeard offer to train him for his destiny, but Inko refuses. They don't need her son to kill dragons, just to eat their souls, so what she can do, is do the actual dragon slaying, and then have Izuku eat the souls. This still forces her to bring Izuku on her adventures, which isn't ideal, but only the dragon related ones. Izuku still learns the shouts of unrelenting force and whirlwind sprint as well as Dragonrend, but is Inko the one wielding the blade.

As a side note, Paarthurnax, for once not having to deal with a 4th era Nord, can finally give the unadulterated lore of the order rather than the imperialized, akatosh centric one, which leads Izuku to grow interested in Kyne, Warrior-Widow of Shor, for how much she reminds him of his mom.

Anyway, Inko is the one doing most of the stuff, Paarthurnax isn't killed, and Izuku gets two dragon buddies, one a wise and aging mentor war criminal, the other a brash and snarky red dragon he can call with his voice.

Izuku and Inko go both to Sovengarde. Inko meets back Kodlak, but also Ysgramor, who she now recognizes as a war criminal bastard, and she is the one dealing the killing blow on Alduin. Inko, Breath of Kyne, is the one sand in the songs now, the mother of the dragonborn who delivered them from evil.

Thieves Guild: Inko also does it all, but is the start of Izuku's involvement with Daedras. Inko takes the pledge to Nocturnal, so her soul is now bound to her realm, but is her son that catches the Prince's eye. Inko also tries to reform the guild back to its old robin hood ways, with divergent results.

Explorer Guild: This is the Legacy of the Dragonborn Mod. Inko founds the explorers guild and moves to the now bigger home in the Museum in Solitude. Proudspire manor has been bought by Yennefer, now advisor to Queen Elisif, who thanks to her influence has grown more confident. Girlboss helping Girlboss prosper and all that. She lives there with husband and daughter, and there's a reunion with Triss. Usual angst about "is she going to leave me? Are our adventures over?" But Triss stays because she cares about Inko and shit.

Anyway, inko is the one doing most of the stuff here too, but she now has a big enough home to adopt more than just Lucia.

She adopts every orphan, as well as Sissel and Britte in Rorikstead after murdering their abusive father. She then kills Grelod in Riften, so to also be able to adopt the orphans at the orphanage. To do so, she catches the attention of the Dark Brotherhood since she just stolen their contact. She of course adopts Aventus Aretino too.

Dark Brotherhood: All Inko. Unlike thieves guild, Izuku isn't even aware she's doing this, since he's back in Solitude with his new siblings.

Princes:

Izuku does Sheogorath. He's playing in the streets with his siblings and the other Solitude kids, when he finds Sheogorath abandoned follower. So he sneaks in the blue palace, gets to the forbidden wing, and meets Sheogorath, the Hero of Kvatch. Does his quest since it's a pretty easy quest even for a 5 years old kid, and then gets the Wabbajack in exchange.

Inko does Sanguine. The sham marriage is actually to Triss this time, which leads to more angst obviously.

Inko also does Vaermina (destroying the staff), Dagon (Destroying the Razor), Hircine (Gets the Ring), Malacath, Namira (Saves the priest and kills the cannibals), Molag Bal (Just... Never completes his quest and leaves the bastard hanging), Boethia (sacrifices one of the two racist dudes in Windhelm after trucking him into following her), Azura (Uncorrupted Star) and Peryte.

Izuku finds Meridia's Beacon but it's Inko who does the quest.

Izuku is the one meeting Barbas and they have "A boy and his dog" adventures together before he manages to bring him back to Clavicus Vile and convince him to take him back without needing to do his quest. He gets the Mask as a Result, but also a dog in the form of Styx, the spectral wolf, another mod.

Izuku does Mephala, pretty early on too. He befriends Baalgruf's bastard son while still living in Whiterun, who tells him about the whispering door, and after a couple of deceptions he gets the blade. He never charges it tho.

While is Inko the one getting the Ogma Infinium, she can't open it, and is Izuku the one opening it and gaining the boost in knowledge, as well as becoming Herma Mora champion.

Dawnguard and Dragonborn are also done by Inko, but is Midoriya who is sent to Apocrypha when she opens a black book. There he has a odd "Older Sibling trying to murder Younger Sibling" relationship with Miraak, and is ultimately forced to see him get killed by Herma Mora. Aunt Serana becomes a permanent fixture in the house.

Bard College is done by Inko but Izuku is also part of the college now.

Most quests are done by Inko, but the misc quests that require either speech or guile are done by Izuku, especially if they involve children. This includes stuff like paying for Erik the Slayer armor in Rorikstead, or cheering up that girl in Solitude whose uncle was executed for aiding in regicide.

Speaking of which:

Civil War: Inko does it obviously, and she sides with the empire, because 1) Hadvar, 2) Baalgruf, and 3) Elisif.

And also because she went to Windhelm one time to stop a serial killer and gods she couldn't believe how racist those fuckers were.

Modded followers are obviously Inigo, Lucien and Shirley Curry, to name a few.

Forgotten City is done by Inko, Izuku is not even in the time loop. Project AHO is done by Inko and ends with her freeing the slaves and murdering every single slaver in the settlement. Most modded quest mods are done by her honestly.

Izuku obviously keeps himself up to date with his magical studies, which means around 8-10 years old he moves back to winterhold, still waiting for a way home, so J'Zargo can study him to reverse engineer his quirk, and he can learn more spells. Most of his siblings are almost of age by now too, and his mother has started calming down in her worry, since she trusts her old coursemates and teacher to keek Izuku safe...

Ok, no, she trusts Onmund and Toldfir to keep Izuku safe, in this order, but it's still more people she would trust if he started living with any of her other guilds.

Anyway, can't think of much else.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: Jaw$! or How Lena Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Webby (Lena Retrospective Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Trigger Warning: Part of this review contains discussions of abuse which can’t be avoided but I still want to be senstive to my audience and any trauma they’ve gone through.  Welcome back weblena world to Shadow Into Light: My Lena Sabrewing Retrospective. And Jaw$ is here, long live Jaw$. Tiffany was a shark who bites the law she was in an episode i’m reviewing called Jaw$. 

And it’s the money shark before the storm as next month i’ll be going from two Ducktales reviews a week with the Lena retrospective and the last few episodes.. to three, as i’ll ALSO be covering the Della arc from season 1 in the build up to shadow war. And if your wondering if I expertly planned this to coincide with the finale, to the point the shadow war review and those leading up to it will be on the same week as the finale.... nope. I just got REALLLLY lucky as I already had all of that planned out, and the schedule for the  new episodes happened to synch up perfectly, ending just in time for me to revisit the series start and having Magica’s big in person appearance reviewed a week after we get her backstory in Life and Crimes. Though I am VERY happy it worked out this way as I get to properly celebrate the series end with more ducks than ever, and get to cover the pilot the same month as the finale, all things i’d of loved to do anyway and probably would’ve rejiggered my schedule to do. Point is lot of Ducktales content coming for this blog if you like that so stay tuned, but for now join me won’t you under the cut as we dive into a money bin of gay ducks, shadowy machinations, and Bad PR. 

We open as Lena and Donald awkwardly sit on the couch, waiting for Scrooge and the Kids to get home. Understandably it’s just.. dead silence.Given their a cynical teenager secretly working for and forced to obey a horrifying shadow monster and a 35 year old man who dosen’t like living in this house due to painful memories of his presumed dead sister.. and painful memories of pain in general, you have a huge awkward bowl of chips and “I really don’t want to be here right now”. 

Our heroes return though, and Louie tries to take some of their haul for himself but Scrooge stops that “It goes in the bin not to next of kin. “... Man in a Hurry if you would please. 

Thank you. Man in a Hurry everybody. He has to go now, he’s in a hurry. 

 As you can probably guess I do not like this, as it reminds me WAY too much of Scrooge’s worst “quirk” in the comics: how he’d barely pay his nephews, who are often hard up for cash mind you and one of whom is supporting three children ALONE, take them around the world and reap all the benefit for their hard work. It’s not like he did nothing, he did, but it’s way to exploitive for my tastes and can often sink a story if taken too far. It’s not AS bad... but they all went on the mission they all deserve at least something. I DO get keeping the rarest and most dangerous stuff for himself, as he is bankrolling things and does have two bins and a massive garage to safetly store them. But this just comes off as douchey for this version, who while liable to make mistakes with them, is far more nurturing towards his boys and girls. 

Thankfully this was course corrected next season. While Scrooge’s greed was properly restored.. this sort of treatment wasn’t. “Treasure of the Found Lamp” had him undergo character development and realize simply hoarding his treasures isn’t right or fair, and set up a musuem wing so both duckburg and his descendants can see them and get the stories behind them. And on not getting to take things clearly he’s eithe relaxed or stopped the policy as our heroes do have souveneers from time to time. Not a LOT mind, but little things like Dewey having a giant sword or Scrooge outright giving Louie one of his things show he did soften up. Though Della’s return and likely lack of tolerance for this stupid policy in the first place probably helped a lot, I also like to think he did change a bit and realize it was deeply unfair they didn’t get more than a few treasures of their own. So the writers did realize they kind of went overboard here.  I suspect this was more to setup for the episode’s subplot and to make Scrooge’s karma at the end feel justified. Speaking of which we get the start of said Subplot as Beakley comes in with a money cart and the news the board called. Why they called his house instead of his phone I don’t know, some things slip through the cracks when you running both a billion dollar company an da trillion dollar fiendish organization  for world larceny. I mean they clearly worked themselves so hard the other two apparently died between seasons. That or it was the diet of whiskey, orphan tears and grease in a wine glass both had. Bradford always told them it’d kill them though to his credit he only said I told you so twice at their funeral. 

For once no their not mad Scrooge is spending all the money they use to buy fowl jetskis, but because the Company’s having a bit of a PR nightmare now that Scrooge is back in the adventuring game. And we cut to the beanstalk they just adventured on having tore up a good chunk of the town and destroyed large swaths of it just to sell the point this isn’t their normal old man yells at other old man for spending all me money schitck, but a serious problem. As such they’ve booked him an interview with Roxanne Fetherly to improve his image and the companies. 

Scrooge scoffs at this, baffled why he has bad pr as his adventuring is GOOD for the city in the long run: He pays for any damages it causes, and likely at a cost no less which is a LOT coming from scrooge, and puts most of the money he makes on these adventures back into the city and his company, creating more jobs and better living conditions. He does get a wakeup call via  truly hilarous gag as Launchpad pops his head up to say “Good news mr. mcdee, it missed the orphange!” before getting ready to chainsaw the stalk for him. He quickly realizes MAYBE he needs some PR and agress to the interview. 

 This whole subplot really plays into one of the series main themes, one Frank brought up a few months back: Risk vs Reward. Adventuring is entirely about this, that adventure is dangerous, can cost you a lot as we see with Della and the aftermath of her terrible decision making, and can hurt people.. but it can also help people, bring money to those who need it, free those who are being oppressed and open new worlds to everyone. This subplot distills it down great: Scrooge is right that his adventures do bring in money, and as seen with the first episode brought in clean water and power with no drawbacks and only asked to be paid for it, which is fair given he still has to run machines and likely help relocate any workers whose jobs are now redundant to other parts of the company and retrain them. But it costs people their homes and jobs, not forever but still as long as it takes to construct, tears up roads and puts people in danger. It’s plots like this that make Bradford the perfect final boss for the series: He’s someone who blinds himself to the reward of all this and only sees the risk, and raises valid points even if he himself is deeply wrong. He’s right Scrooge causes a lot of danger and threat to the world.. but wrong in that he dosen’t see it’s all worth it for the good of everyone. 

But enough about future story arcs let’s get back to this one, as Webby excitedly greets Lena and hugs her, realizes she’s not hugging her back then gives her another squeeze anyway after claming to hate hugs when just a LOOK at Webby would tell you that’s false. The two are having a sleepover, Webby’s first ever.. and given Lena’s essentially an Emo Hobo and the closest thing she has to home is that starlight ancient amptheater that’s never properly explained. Seriously ancient ruins near Duckburg dosen’t suprise me, but at least tell me what they are and why Magica chose them. And why Louie hasn’t tried to sell tickets to Dewey boxing a gorilla in them. Or probably a possum I mean their on a budget and gorillas snap necks, but still i’d pay to see that as would we all. 

Point is it’s their first sleepover and naturally Webby’s first bit of smalltalk.. is how tucking in can be used for interogation techniques. I’d be more suprised if earlier this season it hadn’t already been shown Beakly regularly enrolls her daughter in the no murder, unless you really want to, hunger games every year. The fact Webby hasn’t become the bat is only because she hasn’t found a costume that’s the right combintion of pinks and purples to instill pantswetting terror yet. That shit takes time. 

Lena goes to the bathroom.. to talk to Magica who we properly get to meet. She did speak last time, but this ep is the one that properly establishes her personality for the reboot: she has clever plans, tons of power, if sealed currently, and is a genuine threat.. but she’s also a bit of a ham, in love with the old ultra violence and really short sighted in her plans, something we got hints of last time as her best solution to the Beakly Problem was  to just leave her to die and hope scrooge and webby, two people who love solving mysteries and unlocking puzzles, don’t investigate the horrifying death, accident or not, of their only friend and grandmother, and that neither, especially the 12 year old spiraling with grief, would suspect a former spy died. Thoguh in fairness on the spy thing it’s plausable Magica didn’t know that, but still it’s a bad plan. Magica has good ideas but is just so obessed with the brute force way of doing things she forgets the subtle approach works better.. and so far it has well for Lena.  Problem is it’s VERY clear by this point that Lena likes Webby, maybe not romantic styles JUST YET but it’s getting there. Webby on the otherhand has been in love with Lena from the freaking concept art which showed her blushing around her.. and that was in her 87 design.. which they thankfully changed. It’s not terrible but it just dosen’t fit well with this universe. Point is Lena is catching feelings and Magica realizes this and tries to gaslight her telling her she’d never acccept the truth abotu her and so on. As we all know and as we’ll see that’s bullshit but it’s an effective manipulation. We also find out Magica’s plan: she had Lena sneak a jewel into the treasure going into the bin, and it’s going to turn into a monster that will seek out the Number One Dime for them. She also vaugely hints that there’s something Lena needs from Magica. 

Once Lena returns, and Webby let’s her rabbit know the interogation isn’t over, she gives her possible future girlfirend a gift: friendship bracelets! They both put them on and it’s really fucking cute.. and will be both a tangible symbol of hteir friendship and a plot point several times, something I honestly hadn’t thoguht about till now. Lena, put off by the gesture not because she dosen’t aprpciate it because of the crushing guilt of lying to the one person who cares about her under the insucrtions of a sociopath, goes to Webby’s big old corkboard which is always fun to look at.. especially since it’s clearly the ONLY glimpse at Hortense we’re going to get all series. 

We’re not getting Grandma Duck either. Though at least Frank actually regrets that one. But the important part is one of the posts mentoniing Scrooge hates magic, something Webby elaborates on: He hates spells, hexs curses and what not and feels them a shortcut.  From the man who has a garage full of them. 

I do kid as I did realize there’s a valid expliantion for this: Scrooge will use magical items, protection spells that sort of thing.. but he uses them like anything else as needed. He’s too pragmatic to not say, use the jewel of atlantis to give a city clean energy and water he can montizie, or the split sword against FOWL.. but more often than not he just dosen’t need them. He collects them because it’s fun, oftne profitable.. and their simply SAFER in his museum wing, garage and second bin will get to in two weeks. He’s seen time and time again how people misuse magic, forget it has a price, or just rely on it instead of actual skill. He’s also clearly been on the bad end of a LOT of evil sorcerers and soreceresses, especially magica. Magic isn’t inherently bad, which in itself is a BIG message of Lena’s arc, it’s just somethign that’s the OPPPSOITE OF everythign scrooge is: sacrifcing others for power, relying on something besides yourself, distance attacks versus up close and personal phsycial attacks.. it was never going to be for him and tons of bad experinces with it only cemented it. He’s just not so stubborn outside of the santa thing to avoid something if it’s going to net him a profit or come in a pinch. 

So naturally Scrooge has banned any magic books from his house, as he has no use for spellcasting and any he’d need to keep for saftey or history’s sake are likely at the archives, but just as naturally, Webby smuggled one in and wants to try it with Lena ducking it and asking to play some games. I”m sure Huey has a few yugioh decks in his room go bug him. But before they can decide on one, the boys attack for a PILLOW FIGHT.... which is a sweet gesture and them just wanting to hang out, but ends with them all eating the ground and questioning why they thought attacking the duck equilvent of cassandra cain was a good idea. Louie decides to salvage it with a swim.. but since their pool has a boat in it he has a diffrent location in mind: the bin.

So while they head off to get head injuries, Beakly tries to prepare Scrooge as the Media are vultures and looking for the next scandal with public figures and it’s accurate. But given Scrooge’s natural mood is grumpus, this dosen’t go well at all and even a spray bottle dosen’t exactly help.. I mean it is the best method to deal with grumpy old men but it can only do so much. 

At the bin we get a lovely bit as Dewey prepares to dive and his brothers treat it like an olympic one, with both doing commentary, Dewey’s apparently response to if he was worried about brain damage was Nerp, and we get the wonderous national anthem of dewdonia. Just nice as well as lovely to see the brothers just having a crack and enjoying each others company with their own weird injokes but without the injokes feeling as forced as they were in “Beagle Birthday Massacre”. Things take a turn though as we see just what magica created with the stone... a giant shark made of scrooges money who eats that fucker in a single bite.. in this case Dewey. Louie and Huey naturally run off panicked.

So while Huey and Louie gain another scarring memory to tell their therapist when their older, Scrooge begins his interview with Roxanne Fetherly who.. honestly just weirds me out. Not for any personality stuff but because she has green feathers. And it just.. really feels WEIRD. I mean green ducks are a thing in real life.. but it just looks off to have such a pastel color on a duck when the other colors are white or tones meant to invoke real world races, allowing ducks to be black, latino, asian and so on and so on coded. That’s fine and blends in fine.. but with that metaphor the green just really dosen’t fit well at all. It feels like an early decision they made, but decided not to retcon or go with for anyone else which makes it all the more weird. We’re 3 seasons in , almost at the end, and the only other green duck we’ve seen was like that because of magic and the offputting nature of it WORKS for magica. Here I just don’t get it and I never well. But naturally Roxanne starts in on invasive, gotcha questions with no real good answers or time to respond, so fox news level questions, and then asks what part of ireland he’s from. 

Naturally that sets him off so while that rant goes on, literally next time we see him he’s still going on about it, we cut to the girls playing truth or dare.. and given Webby’s first question is about deepest darkest secrets the boys once again save her by running in... to report on the monster she created that just ate their brother. Lena brushes it off but does get them not to go to scrooge claming he’ll throw them to the shark himself. I mean he’s not comics scrooge so he probably woudln’t but their also two scared 11-12 year olds so it works well enough. They just need a way to go after the money shark. Enter launchapd who in the second best bit of the episode, says he sensed his best friend dewey was in danger. Beck’s delivery is what sells it.. and I’m not going to question it. He’s somehow alive despite presumibly living off a diet of spaghett-o’s, barely avoiding a car accident on his best days, and as we’ll find out later believing children in costumes are monsters he summoned when he was 8. The fact he suddenly has spider sense specifically related to people he cares about is honestly less of a surprise than the fact he’s not in heaven crashing God’s Speedboat into God’s Golden Castle with God’s Golden Lion riding shotgun. 

So they do the natural thing and.. steal Donald’s houseboat while he sleeps. He has no more involvement in this episode other than noticing it’s back and not in great condition at the end. I bring this up because this is one of Donalds ONLY apperances this season, and it’s part of the larger more irritating problem that he’s hardly ever used.. despite promoting him as a major part of the series. 

I will talk about this more during the Della arc as i’ts more relevant there, but needless to say it bothers me a lot and not knowing how to ballance it’s massive main cast was a constant struggle for the series even up to the final episodes going on right now. 

So our heroes head out on the bin late at night, where could the Jaw$ be she’s nowhere in sight. So they decide to use other treasure as a lure they either fished out of a bin or out of scrooge’s bathwater. How bathing in coins gets him clean I don’t know and frankly I dont’ think we want the answers to that and the idea of scrooge fully naked is so horrifying I forgot what I was talking about.

Ah yes our heroes are playing bait the money monster and find out it’s a shark, and Lena.. is not okay with that and goes to talk to Magica inside the boat. Magica tells us she has a name, Tiffany. Awww what a lovely name for a money shark. I would of gone with Rags to Bitches, but I may have brain damage.  Lena understandabily does not like the idea of getting eaten by a shark, asked to be informed and while Magica is mad at her for going after the thing, Lena reasonably points out that it was this or Scrooge got involved.  Up top Huey tries catching it with a bit of treasure on a rope.. after not shutting up about shark facts because “Facts comfort me when i’m nervous!” Precious angel. But Huey’s leg gets caught and he and Louie, somehow on the latter get thrown up in the air and chomped. Back bellow Webby has a suggestion: using magic. Lena naturally not wanting to blow her cover or really liking magic period is against it for now. 

Back at the interview, Roxanne brings on a special guest to prove people don’t like scrooge: GLOMGOLD!

Glomgold may create some issues for the subplot and we’ll get to those in due time, but damn if it isn’t always a pleasure to see him. He’s also on good terms with Roxanne... are.. are we sure this is local news and not fox news? Taking the word of a conservative greedy billionare over a progressive one seems like a fox move. Though I might actually watch fox news if glomgold was a commentator.  “I propose a red new deal instead of this blasted green new deal, I throw Scrooge to a tank of sharks connected to a generator, the tank turns red with his blood and that somehow creates power! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT MCDUCK” 

So we get the best bit of the episode as Glomgold tries to complain about his building being destroyed which would be fair... if he hadn’t tried to blow up Scrooge’s bin twice this week, with Glomgold going for THREE.. for threee.. for three... it dosen’t go off but it does get scrooge to say he’s glad the building was destroyed. Which is fair but NOT super great PR.  

Back at the shark things don’t get better as Webby and Lena argue over the use of magic, I mean as much as they can argue Webby just wants to know why she’s so cagey about this while they go with plan “Launchpad crash into it”. Launchpad also gives a hell of a monologue. Good on you bud. As you can see launchpad’s gotten 100% better since his low point in our last episode. That’s because it’s clear the writers had some struggle ballancing his amped up stupidity with actual competence, making him primarily jokey comic relief in the first few episodes and I wouldn’t be shocked if Terror of The Terra Firmians was written before a lot of the later episodes despite airing around the same time. But by mid-season he’s got his much more lovable charactersation of a dangerous moron..l but one who CAN be competent and is genuinely charming due to how much he cares about his friends and his job. They also dialed down the stupid down to an acceptable homer simpson level: still a danger to himself and others but hilariously so. Point is they fixed it and while i’ll complain about mistakes the show made I will give this crew all the credit for course correcting time and time again and actually listening to fan feedback.

So Webby figures they tried the Jaws option and lost the boat and launchpad, time for plan Magic. They hold hands, EEEEEEEEE, and try a spell.. and it clearly starts working but almost works TOO well, as Lena starts glowing first purple.. then blue. Hmmmm... intresteing. Lena breaks it off and Tiffany breaks out of the bin.. just as scrooge says on the news his adventures aren’t dangerous. 

Scrooge naturally goes to face it while Webby wonders why Lena didn’t go for it. To make it a triple Scrooge shows up in time to distract tiffany.. with the number one dime, which as lena found out earlier is on his person rather than at the bin like the public thinks. So while Scrooge puts up a good show.. seriously it’s really awesome and really neat looking, though he also gets VERY upset that people are naturally holding out buckets for the cash shark, which he’s not happy about because well.. he did EARN that money. Most bin money is stuff directly earned by him so fair enough. But while he’s you know, Scrooge Fucking McDuck, and thus puts up a good fight the monster eats him.. and gets the dime stuck in it’s tooth with Magica wanting Lena to grab for it, forgetting that minons, while mildly disposable, aren’t really replaceable when your SOUL’S ATTACHED TO THEM. That’s where Magica’s weakness is. her plans aren’t half bad but as I said, she’s far too bloodthirsty and short sighted. She has better ones than glomgold but ironcially they share the same problem of not thinkign them through. And Magica cares so little for lena she’s blinded to the fact her own personal saftey is tied up in her. 

Lena naturally dives for her future girlfrriend and heads into the belly of the beast. And it’s here her REAL moment of truth is. While the one last episode was noble.. it was also easy enough to brush off internal as pragmatisim. Letting Beakly die would’ve brought too much heat and been too easy to quickly go terrible, while saving her got her off Lena’s trail and gave her free reign of the manner. But here? Webby is about to slip into Tiffany’s stomach and whle she hasn’t digested anyone yet given who made Tiffany with it’s likely just because she hasn’t had enough mass to create chainsaws to carve them all up. It’s the Dime or Webby. Lena’s own freedom or the girl she loves. Nothing good comes from saving Webby.. other than Webby. Other than the one person whose truly loved her. I mean think about it: She was created by magica, abused for a good decade and a half. No one but Magica has had a chance to care about her and as we’ve seen Magica only sees her as a weapon to get back at scrooge and not as a person. Webby was the first person she’s ever made a genuine connection with, that’s been there for her, that loves her unconditionally and woiuld be there for her no matter what. And it’s in that moment Lena realizes she can’t sacrifice her for her own good... that after years of having to be selfish to surivive being chained to that monster... she can’t be this time. No mastter what it costs her.. Webby is priceless. So Lena recites the spell, growing bright blue and blowing up tiffany. Lena gladly hugs webby who reciorpates, awww gaybies, and Launchpad hugs dewey. Awww... what it’s still precious he’s a good surrogate uncle. The wacky kind who sleeps in a van on your lawn. 

So Scrooge is glad.. though it’s here his subplot falls flat. Him getting attacked by the media and getting a compupance by loosing tons of money from tiffany is fine. Evne if he earned it, his lack of care did bring this on him.. hte problem is they take it too far by having all his nemies show up, him unable to say anything and glomgold blatantly doing so just to steal from him. Otherwise the subplot is fine, a bit heavy on scrooge being a dick but it has to to work and puts him in an awkward situation. But this ending just feels to over the top to realy enjoy. And the series does do over the top humor well so I don’t know what happened here. But having a bunch of outright thieves steel his money instad of a bunch of citizens who didn’t know better and deserved it for the damage, feels wrong and it tastes wrong. 

Speaking of feels wrong and tastes wrong we get an INTEINTONAL dose of that as back at the amptheater, Lena and Magica argue about the situation and Magica trying to kill her. Lena tries to walk away but can’t.. phsyically. Magica won’t let her. And this is honestly a very crushing and very well crafted metaphor for how abuse victims sometimes CAN’T escape their abusers. Magica is verbally abusive, treats lena like she’s disposable and constnatly downtalks her self esteem. To Lena magica is nothing but a tool.. but like MANY children caught in horrifcally abusive situations Lena can’t get away. It’s a literal metaphor, an da good one, for how you can’t ALWAYS escape abuse easily, and this especially true for kids who have nowhere to go and hte law on their abusers side more often than not. It’s hard to escape an abusive parent and even harder when they dont’ consider you a person. I thankfully have no personal experince with this but it dosen’t make it any less of a problem nor any less noble of this show to tackle the subject in a frank, if fantastical, way, and a good chunk of Lena’s arc is overcoming this abuse and not letting her abusive past drown her. But for now.. all she can do is agree to do what Magica says till she can hopefully be rid of her. But the light at the end of the tunnel’s coming.. there’s just a whole lotta darkness first. 

Next Time: We take a break from the episodes to cover some Lena related comics for a double feature; The first Spies Like Us has everyones faviorite lesbian ducks go on a spy adventure that was never printed in the us for silly reasons we’lll get to and then the 87 ducktales comic dime after dime which features Lena’s predecessor Minima. 

Later Today: Close Enough Season 2 is here! I”m going to talk about it! Exclimation Points! 

If you liked this review feel free to follow for more. And if you have an episode of Ducktales or another animated show you’d like me to cover just hit me up via my asks or direct messages on here and comission it. And if you’d rather just support me on a monthly basis, head over to my patreon. THE LINK IS RIGHT HERE.  Even a buck a month would help and the more of you that donate the closer we get to my Duckcentric stretch goals. The current closest ones are 15, which would lead to reviews of The Goofy Movies and Treasure of the Lost Lamp, and 20 which would lead both to a review of the Super Ducktales mini series, and monthly darkwing duck reviews! So if you like me talking about ducks and want to bolt some duck reviews to the schedule, even a dollar a month would inch me closer to that goal. Eveyr bit helps. But money or not, it’s been a pleasure and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[gammacousin]

Okay. I’m ready to real talk Black Widow. I don’t want to but as an activist there’s an obligation I have to share and educate. I nerd to forget but I suppose it shows the power of this movie if it brings something real into the light.

*Spoiler Warning. Trigger warning for everything.*

There are some things I want to say that could potentially spoil aspect of the Black Widow film. I also would advise you to skip this post if you have a darker past, if you aren’t interested in getting serious, or wish to skim by, I’m sincerely not judging! I come on here to avoid the universe as well. You do you, I totally still love you if you don’t read this and want to move onto something nerdy or more fun. This isn’t the post for you.

It’s taken me a while to process and organize my thoughts. Skip if you don’t want to hear deep, raw stories.

3

2

Okay. Nerd review first.

The level of girl power and any and all glass ceilings… There is SO much left to do. So much that needs to still be addressed. But seeing 3 women run this show: Yelena, Natasha, and Melina was an absolute joy to observe. This isn’t the end of some hard waged war, it’s the beginning and I beg you; Disney/Marvel. Please give us more of this? It’s so important for young girls to see other girls kicking butt and winning. Quick summary of nerd feelings; Losing Nat still burns. Yelena is a boss.

Okay…Real talk.

I have to get a little deeper here now. My personal story absolutely played into how I felt about this film and I wish I saw some trigger warnings about the material covered. Do I know Black Window’s story? Yes. In and out. I can read it, I can write my FF on it. However. Little to no one knows my story and so absolutely no one is to blame for not warning me. I was not expecting to come out this shook.

I’m sharing this because it’s happening now, today. In the real world. I doubt the film makers had this mind over other social issues, but after feeling like it’s irrelevant, that my pain is somehow less than, I’m realizing through my activism it’s not.

I grew up in a cult where women are not relevant. You matter up to a point. You are useful, to a point. If you’re giving 24/7, you’re not giving enough. If you’re not smiling as you’re doing cult stuff, you’re complacent. In addition to why I’m about to share, my house growing up was not a safe space which is a story for another time. So it’s a stack…this janga-ish game that eventually just comes crashing down.

My trigger started moments after the film started the handing over of the kids. When Alexei chooses the job over the welfare of the girls. Alexei put his two “daughters” in danger to save ‘face’. To put the job ahead of two children…it hit home. In the group I’m from, fathers, mothers, grandparents, siblings will absolutely choose the group over blood. You are nothing and you mean nothing if you ‘defect’. If you break a rule. If you complain. If you say ‘no’. If you put in a bad review for a leader, if you have anything bad at all to say about the organization as a whole. You can confide something deep in someone you trust and it absolutely will come back to hurt you.

The title song shook me completely. This collage of video and images of brainwashing, treating these girls like absolute objects is disgusting in itself. But when you’re raised in this other world, there’s a level of brainwashing that is absolutely unmatched. Videos, books, quizzes, 12 hour lectures, weekly meetings.

People are unified to the point where you lose your own identity. There’s a language- a literally language- words you start to misuse. Verbiage only people in the cult use. Kids of any age will watch any rated film. Frequently the themes are about obedience and or cooperation and the consequences if you do not cooperate/obey. Death is a such a common theme that either you become petrified of your own shadow, petrified of breathing wrong, or turn completely numb. In sharing these videos, the goal is to instill this fear that you will never be enough. That you will die- turn into a charred hot dog of a figure if you do not obey 8 white men - the leaders, in New York. That your friends, classmates, neighbors, family will die if they don’t believe what you do. That you’re held accountable if you can’t bring them to your side.

The song for the credits hit me. I cannot listen to it. I have no idea what it was about.

When I watched the film, I couldn’t focus at this point at gosh barely 15 minutes in. I had already checked out. I heard keywords. “Entertainers,” “I feel stupid and contagious…”

In my world, I did not matter. What mattered was, what was presented to the public. To your group. Meeting some checklist of this perfect family at any cost. You’re not an individual, you’re a number. Literally. Your records are documented by men in the back room- your actions, your track record. But ultimately? You’re part of a numeral equation reported to headquarters. And if you’re a woman, you do not have a say in how you look, dress, act or in what you say. You are as the title song says, …“Entertainers”. You smile. You do your job, and you are ‘happy’ about it. Your job is to dedicate x amount of hours cleaning the room you gather in, and in recruitment of other members…

There’s a ‘job’ in the cult called a “pioneer”. Okay. No, we might not have been trained assassins. But you are trained to manipulate emotionally. To prey on the weak. You get books, magazines, movies, speeches, lectures- you rarely get a free Saturday. Oh and the job isn’t paid. So make sure you’re working (part time because full time secular work isn’t acceptable) at a desk job (because college and getting an education is not allowed). Don’t make friends with the people who work with you, they’re out to get you. Back at the club; You answer questions like it’s some schoolastic quiz every week and quote what your reading. It’s a brainwashing tactic. If you say something enough times, you remember it. You start to believe it. You spend hours reading these things, training… Your job is to target people who have lost- and have lost a lot because they’re vulnerable. You learn to go to cemeteries, and literally stalk people who are grieving. Like Val. If you can catch someone when they’re weak, senses are dulled. They’re desperate. And you bait them with this false promise. This idea that all THEY have to do is change all that they are, join you, and they’ll see their dead loved ones again. That they are doomed if they don’t change. Most pioneers draft 2-4 people per lifetime. If you’re a great saleswoman, you can draft more into this horrific world. And I regret the hours I spent lying, torturing people. For some cult that doesn’t give two cents about me.

I 100% believed of I didn’t convince my classmates, neighbors, to join my side they would either turn me in or they would be killed by a divine being. From 2 years old I was supposedly handing out pamphlets. The doom is not a quick painless death, no. You have visuals. You have men getting up to talk in detail about what your ‘friends’ will look like as corpses. Visually descriptive to the point where I still feel a bit numb to it all. That you will have to bury their bodies after the whole divine destruction. That you will have to “clean up” the earth. You are numb- convinced- bullied to the point where you believe this is true.

If you’re hurt as MANY WOMEN AND CHILDREN ARE, and you don’t have two people to testify and say they saw it- it never happened. Abuse is the norm. And if you speak up about it? You’re called a liar. Your friends cut you off. They think you’ll die along with everyone else if you put in a ‘bad review’ or leave. You’re bullied into submission and taught from a young age that you are not in control of your own decisions. You relinquish yourself under the pretense that the men you have such reverence toward are under some divine being’s control.

Your parents hurting you is acceptable. And don’t you dare speak against your father if he’s deeply involved. Don’t even think about approaching if he’s on a phone call. If you’re hit you take it- because you “deserved” it. And you smile. You shove that pain deep down. You hide the bruise, the cut lip, the depression, the bottles of pills you’re swallowing the whatever….You’re screwed if you faint, throw up, pass out, because you’ve missed a meeting. You better be dying for that to happen…

The idea that is portrayed in the movie (IMO) is that you can forgive family who hurts you. I see people forgiving Alexei and what’s her name. Look- that’s great. It’s a fun film. Alexei is funny. Here’s what I saw; it’s a toxic man- nay- father who can’t accept responsibility. He takes pride in what the girls have become- monsters. Not in who they are at their core. He has no idea who they are. And the mom has this photo album…I’m tearing up. She remembers this a certain way, a wishful thought. I’ve confronted my own mother about our past and had an album thrown at me, “We were happy. You were happy.” The fact is I was told the smile. You’re forcing this perception that everything was normal. That it’s okay to go back. (I’m not taking away Yelena’s view that everything was real to her, that’s fine for the sake of the story, and sweet. The moment between her and Alexei..fine. Milena turns and takes their side at the end, great.) The problem with how I saw this, is that’s not how the real world works. I don’t owe my parents forgiveness when I didn’t mean shit to them. When people leave the cult they’re cut off. Treated like they’re dead. I didn’t find these moments cute, I found them horrific. Hugging me, saying he’s proud of me is the toxic sh** my father would pull. Ignoring the holes in the wall, in my skull, the phony impression he gives to the rest of the group. Hugging me…after sweeping everything he did not only to me, but countless others under the rug because the cult…because 8 men in NY will protect him. Legally. Or otherwise.

I don’t need to forgive my parents. If you’ve been mistreated, you don’t owe anyone anything. They can “try” to do the right thing, that doesn’t somehow block out years of mistreatment. Years of trauma. Sheetrock only patches the surface of the broken walls. Wounds heal but some scars stay with you forever. Metaphorically or otherwise.

‘Entertainers’ was a trigger word because if you’re high enough in the ranking system you’re asked to “testify” or share a story. It’s in front of a couple thousand. It’s an “honor”. What it really is, is a three ring circus. You will only see women on the sidelines reading from the cards while only men stand at the main podium. They’re reading what they have told them to say. Stories are manipulated, cut, changed to fit a narrative that better suits the group of a couple thousand members.

Dreykov. I hate this. But I have to go there. I’m neck deep already, might as well. I think the worst part of all of it is that you can’t touch the person who made you this way. Those 6-7-8 leaders are untouchable. It doesn’t matter what you try. What legal entities, ex groups have tried. There’s a term for us and we are considered ‘mentally diseased.’ Members are told to avoid us. And in case you were curious, no, they can’t just break their nose on a table to be free- if only it were that simple. Gosh that got me. I would cut a limb, split my skull open, if it meant I could just cut a chord. It takes years of therapy and I still have nightmares. Urges to just, go. I’m OKAY. But most escapees are not. If you manage to escape with your life and don’t end it because the pressure, guilt, abuse that comes with leaving is too much. (This is sadly the fate of MANY LBGTQ+ members.)

The only hope is either the group eventually runs out of money or they’re taken down legally. Both of which are impossible since many older members will leave all they have to the group rather than to their family. It’s a complex billion dollar publishing company that plays monopoly with people’s investments, homes, and lives.

If you speak up, you’re the liar. So you cannot free your friends, who have turned on you, already cut you off, and discarded you the day you walked out and didn’t come back.

Watching Natasha, and Yelena free their sisters made me think of every woman who is stuck in this cult. For every woman, child, currently being sexually/physically abused and can’t say sh** because they literally believe god will kill them. If I say anything to them, they block me. If I expose what’s happening they will lie in court. That’s what is happening. And it’s not in the news, it’s not talked about. Because you can’t. You’re forced into silence. There’s a block. A literal legal force field that you cannot penetrate. They have their own lawyers. You can’t break into it. You’ll lose every, single, legal battle you try to fight.

Was this a decent movie? Yes. Was I expecting to share this days after release, no. I’ve been forced into silence for so long, told that people have it far worse and that I shouldn’t talk about it. But just today I saw a grown ass couple in an escapee group, talking about how one trigger word sent them into a depressive spiral. Wondering if some god damn lightening will come out of the sky and knock them dead. And we frickin struggle in silence. People will just shrug and go “oh it can’t be that bad,” while my gay best friend can’t catch an effing break. While someone else suffers at home because god wants it that way. Someone else will bury their kid today, maybe not even hold a funeral for them if they were ‘mentally diseased.’

For people like that couple I met today, like me, if you don’t just see a fun film but a darker past or maybe it’s brought up some memories for you, I’d honestly love to chat!!! Message me! I feel like for as painful as this is to hash out not too many people know about what goes on behind a group of smiling, well dressed woman who come knocking on your door. “It’s just a religion.”

I guess I didn’t realize…the criminal aspect of what happened to me. You’re so ingrained to keep quiet. To smile. To ignore, to suppress. I can smile, joke laugh, but visualizing…inadvertently seeing this mirror was so unbelievably uncomfortable. I would always rather help someone else because it takes me out of my head. Live in a bubble where I can call my trauma a ‘fantasy’. What’s real is when someone like me has a bad day? Lol! Look, my husband literally checks his phone to make sure a conversation never touches a couple hundred trigger words that will absolutely send me into the closet with a gallon of ice cream or a bottle of whiskey. I can’t imagine what someone else, what some other traumatized individual goes through. (Maybe that’s why the Bucky stuff makes me all angry She-Hulk too..)

Look, talking people ex members of this group, out of suicide is a daily endeavor to the point where it’s borderline on autopilot. But having this, I suppose, brilliant, piece of cinema turn the camera around left me raw and writhing and angry. Not for me, but for everyone else still stuck. With every year you spend in that cult, add ten more to therapy.

If you feel like me at all, you’re not alone. Not anymore. We were raised to feel alone in the world. That the universe is somehow out to get us and that’s simply not true. You don’t need the people who raised you if they were absolute shit bags. And you DO NOT have to forgive them for keeping you in that environment. Family isn’t family if they’ve hurt you. You owe them nothing. It is healthy to feel your feelings (and you and your feelings are valid. )

Anyways! I hope to be able to talk about more fun Marvel topics soon. But this felt important so thanks for listening. I’m really not hating guys, this is just…it’s heavy. And I beg you to do your research into cults and to help out where you can.

Love and light,

-M