#author of the president and the assassin if you don't know

[czolgosz]

we are all the enemy of scott miller right

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 BIRDS OF A FEATHER (WE SHOULD STICK TOGETHER)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're called back to yokohama when the president of the agency and the boss of the port mafia are infected by the same ability. you know that the situation is complicated, but you don't realize just how bad it is for you until you're sitting face-to-face with dazai on the opposing side for the first time.

wordcount: 8.7k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, mentions of mafia business (pmreader doing pm business!!), light angst with happy ending,

AUTHOR'S NOTES: happy friday :') i hope u guys enjoy

You should have known better than to think your trip back to Europe would be uneventful. You’d hardly been away for a month, working with Tolstoy and the Three Deaths to figure out what exactly Fyodor Dostoevsky might be planning in Yokohama. The man is frustratingly good at covering his tracks, even Tolstoy’s best have been having trouble picking up his trail. You’d begun to make some progress in Rome when you got the 119 text from Chuuya, forcing you to drop what you were doing to get on the jet back to Japan.

“Are you on the way back yet?”

The urgency in Chuuya’s voice on the call only serves to stress you out more. Your eyes slide shut as you lean against your chair, ignoring your subordinate’s curious eyes as you reply with a short: “Yes, Chuuya. You sent a 119. Of course, I am on the way back, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“You’re not going to like it,” Chuuya says tightly. “I was going to wait until you got here.”

“Obviously, I am not going to like it,” you reply. “I cannot imagine why I would ever like a 119.”

“You’re really not going to like it,” Chuuya stresses and you can’t help but sigh, bracing yourself for whatever he’s about to say. “The Boss is dying.”

“What?”

You’re on your feet in an instant, eyes wide and phone pressed to your ear as your heart comes to a painful stop in your chest. Klaus straightens where he’s sitting, the curious expression quickly shifting into concern and confusion. You know the kid is itching to ask what’s going on, but you can hardly think straight with the sudden news. Fear begins to claw at your chest—a dangerous, dangerous emotion that threatens to shut down your mind. You know you have to get it under control before it can but your tongue feels swollen and heavy and your mind has become a jumble of thoughts that you can’t decipher.

That can’t be possible. It can’t. Mori dying? The thought itself is so ludicrous that it almost makes you laugh but you know Chuuya would never joke about this. 

“He and the President of the Agency were attacked by an ability user that can infect people with diseases. One has to die or both will. Unless we kill the President in the next thirty-six hours, the Boss will die.”

“Pushkin,” you spit out angrily. “That nasty roach. I’ve met him before. You called me right when it happened?”

“Yep,” Chuuya says, anxiety thinly veiled in his tone. “We just launched an assault on the Agency-”

“Dumbass,” you seethe, cutting him off. “I can’t stand you sometimes. Now we’ll have to track them down. I’ll be there in less than an hour, don’t do anything else stupid.”

You hang up the phone without another word.

“What’s going on?” Klaus calls after you curiously, but you’re already making your way to the front of the plane, pushing the cockpit door open to get the attention of the pilot.

“Fly faster.”

Dazai sighs as he rests against the pillows of the hospital bed, trying to figure out how exactly he’s going to convince the nurses to let him have his phone. His gaze drifts from his bedsheets to the window, following a bird soar past the glass into the sky as his mind races to piece together Fyodor’s plans.

By now, Fukuzawa should be safe within Lucy Montogomery’s interdimensional space; it’s only a matter of whether or not Tanizaki will be able to pull off the assassination on Mori. Dazai thinks the chances are slim—even if he does manage to get past the Black Lizards, Kouyou will be guarding Mori personally and Golden Demon will be able to sense Tanizaki through the illusion. He’ll be okay though, Dazai has Kyouka on standby as the one that’s going to extract him from the base and Kouyou will hesitate at the sight of her. He just needs to figure out a new approach. One that will be more successful.

What to do next?

For the first time in years, Dazai well and truly struggles to formulate a plan. He’s always struggled with the concept of failure and it haunts him now like an oppressive shadow hanging over his shoulders, knowing that the one man who had brought him in without hesitation, accepted him into the light with open arms despite his gruesome past, will be facing the consequences of his incapability this time.

Shit.

Despite the copious amount of pain relievers he’s on, Dazai can feel a headache coming on from the stress of this situation and Fyodor Dostoevsky. He’s never had an opponent like this before—one who can match him move for move on the chessboard, see through all of his plans, and it scares Dazai because he knows this is only the beginning and if he’s struggling now…

Dazai is drawn out of his thoughts as the door to his hospital room opens—he lifts his head, preparing round two of trying to convince the nurse to give him his phone, only to freeze when he’s met with an achingly familiar sight.

Your lips are curved up into a coy smile, his phone dangles tauntingly between your fingers. You look beautiful—always do—and Dazai’s chest flutters at the sight of you, drinking in your pretty face and basking in the warmth he only ever feels in your presence. For a second, all of Dazai’s fears are washed away because there’s nothing that he can’t handle with you at his side. 

For a second, because then Dazai remembers that you’re not at his side anymore.

You’re the enemy.

“Long time, no see,” you drawl, making your way forward to take a seat on the edge of his hospital bed. “You look like shit.”

Dazai sighs heavily, the smile on his lips becoming a bit more tired as he reaches out for your hand, fingers brushing over your palm before he laces them with yours. “My sweet hime, you’re always a sight for sore eyes, but I can’t help but feel dismayed by you being back in Yokohama now.”

You being back in Yokohama makes things even more difficult for the situation at hand. Chuuya and Kouyou, Dazai could’ve outsmarted them—it would’ve been difficult with how well Chuuya knows Dazai and all of his schemes, but it would’ve been doable, if only because the man is easy enough to antagonize. But you? You won’t fall for any of Dazai’s tricks and you’ll make sure Chuuya doesn’t either. 

Things just got much more complicated—he really didn’t expect them to be so quick to call you back. You and Dostoevsky at the same time, two opponents who can match him more for move when he was at the top of his game, which he’s not at with his head all fogged up with painkillers… it didn’t bode well for him or the people relying on him.

His throat tightens when you lift his hand to brush your lips against his knuckles, having to close his eyes to hide the way they mist over because of the casual intimacy that he’s only shown by you. Your fingers tighten around his as you drop your joined hands back into your lap, an unreadable expression on your face as you look at him.

“I’m so mad at you.” You smile at him but Dazai can see the way you swallow thickly, desperately trying to contain your emotions. “To walk into such an obvious trap set by Dostoevsky… To think you would try to leave me behind again so soon after our reunion. Are you so eager to rid yourself of me?”

“Never,” Dazai says hoarsely. “I knew he wouldn’t-”

“You don’t know anything about Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai.” You interrupt him, grip on his hand almost becoming painful as you glare at him. “I don’t know anything about him and I spent many months with him. How could you be so reckless?” 

Dazai was not aware that you spent many months with Fyodor Dostoevsky but that’s a conversation for another time. He feels distinctly scolded as he looks away from you petulantly. “I had to-”

You reach forward with your free hand to grab his chin, forcing him to look at you, and all of the fight leaves Dazai’s body as soon as you touch his face. His lashes flutter as he instinctively leans into your touch and his throat bobs when your grip on his chin shifts into you cupping his cheek, fingers carding through the edges of his dark hair. He lets his eyes slide back open after letting himself enjoy your touch for a few moments.

“You have to be more careful,” you say quietly. 

Dazai has become so entirely unused to people showing him such blatant concern that he almost can’t hide the way his eyes become wet. Of course, the members of the Agency care for him, he knows that in his heart even if it’s hard for him to come to terms with, but they do it so in a more subtle manner. They casually check in on him on his bad days, bring him food and try to get him out of his dorm when he can hardly drag himself out of bed, they know he doesn’t like it when they point out when he’s doing bad, so they’re more cunning with how they show their concern… but the way you look at him… the way you touch him… 

Back in the Mafia, on his bad days even before the two of you had acknowledged how you felt for one another, you’d always sit with him and made sure he was eating. Always made sure he knew he wasn’t alone even when he did his damned best to push you away. After the two of you had acknowledged your feelings for one another, you’d let him curl in your bed and surround himself with your blankets and clothes. You’d never push him, would always be there when he needed it—he’d taken it for granted back then, because his bad days after he left the Mafia… after he left you… Dazai almost couldn’t force himself through them.

But it’s different now after going four years without it; it feels… more intense. He thinks maybe it's because he’s still convinced that you’re going to change your mind and spurn him, toss him aside the same way he did to you four years ago.

He doesn’t deserve this, he thinks, not for the first time since he’s reunited with you, and he wants to know why. Doesn’t know why you let him come back to you when he decidedly doesn’t deserve it. If this is just some big cruel joke you’re playing on him. He doesn’t understand any of this. He feels like he’s eighteen again, so scared of a relationship with you that he’d rather avoid you at any given chance. 

After what feels like an eternity, your hand drops from his face and you lean back on the bed, concerned expression disappearing as you level a steady look onto him.

“Now, to talk business.” You smile and Dazai feels cold without your touch, pouting when his hand falls limp against the hospital bed. “What is it now? Thirty hours before the virus takes hold and they both die?”

“Ha!” Dazai barks out a laugh that makes him wince. “I know better than to sit on the opposite side of the negotiation table with you. Nice try.”

You give him a simpering smile. “Come, Dazai, my ability doesn’t work on you. We’re on even ground.”

“You don’t need your ability to win a negotiation,” he scoffs, but there’s a smile on his lips. “Anyway, I can’t negotiate on behalf of the Agency. You’ll have to find Kunikida-kun for that.”

“There is no winning negotiations, only-”

“Only a coming to terms, blah blah blah,” Dazai finishes for you, rolling his eyes. “I’m not negotiating with you.”

“I fear that you are going to be negotiating with me, Dazai.” You give him a sweet smile that instantly puts him on edge, folding your hands over your lap as you cross one leg over the other. “My subordinate is currently in the apartment of Haruno Kirako with her and Tanizaki Naomi. He’s waiting on orders for me to either leave or kill them. Said orders will be dependent on whether or not we’re able to come to an understanding.”

Dazai’s heart drops to his stomach, taking in a sharp breath and glancing down to his phone where it’s resting on your lap, wondering if he could snatch it and get out a SOS to the other members of the Agency before you can take it away. Your smile becomes more mocking as you toss it across the room to the couch on the opposite wall, keeping it far out of reach. 

“God, you’re still a cold-hearted bitch,” Dazai breathes out, tilting his head back against the wall with a heavy breath. “This isn’t a negotiation, this is a ransom.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Close enough.”

Dazai gapes. “Close enough?”

“Close enough,” you affirm.

“What do you want?” Dazai finally asks, lips a bit twisted as he waits for your response. His fingers thrum against his thigh, mind racing as he tries to figure out what you could possibly want. Well, he knows what you want—you’ll want Fukuzawa dead to ensure Mori lives but Dazai can’t let that happen.

“Kunikida Doppo—you say he’s the acting President while Fukuzawa-dono is incapacitated?” you ask him absently, tilting your head to the side. He nods and you hum. “Set up a meeting between him and I.”

Dazai’s eyes narrow. “I’ll set up a meeting if you get your dog away from our office workers,” he counters, knowing that it’s not going to be that easy with you but he may as well try.

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Dazai,” you remind. “Why should I?”

“I’m not setting up a meeting between the two of you if you’re going to go into it with leverage over him already,” Dazai says firmly. “If you’re so set on trying to solve this through negotiation, you’ll have to give up the upper hand and meet them on even grounds.”

You stare at him for a moment, eyes too sharp and calculating for his liking. Dazai thinks that it’s entirely unfair that he has to deal with you when he’s still doped up on painkillers, but he doubts you care.

“Fine,” you finally agree, pulling out your phone and shooting a text to someone. You frown down at it for a moment before looking back up at him. “It’s done. Set up the meeting.”

Dazai has half a mind to say no. He knows that sending Kunikida to the negotiation table with you is going to be a mistake—you’re too sharp and too convincing—he isn’t sure if Kunikida’s ideals will be able to hold strong over your silver tongue. You can clearly tell that he’s considering reneging on his promise from how your eyes narrow.

You rise to your feet without another word, giving him a cool look. “I’ll be waiting for you at the teahouse in Nishi-ku that we-that the Port Mafia owns. If you haven’t arrived by the twenty-six hour mark...”

Dazai sighs your name, long and drawn out, his eyes feel heavy as he looks up at you. You pause, gaze softening for a moment as you reach out and grab his hand, squeezing it gently.

“When this is all done and over with, come by my place,” you say quietly. “I’ll have to head back to Europe soon after. I talked to the nurses, they won’t bother you when you try to leave.”

“Yeah,” Dazai says, voice a bit more hoarse than he intended for it to be. “Yeah, I’ll come over.”

You don’t say anything else, casting one last lingering look over where he’s laying on the hospital bed before turning and walking out the way you came. Dazai sighs again, slumping back against his pillows as he stares up at the ceiling, somehow feeling even worse than he did before you showed up.

Your car pulls up to the teahouse thirty seconds past the twenty-six hour mark.

“You ready?” Tachihara Michizou looks over the front seat back to where you’re sitting. Akutagawa Gin sits in the passenger seat, gray eyes curious as she looks back at you. “We could always y’know… just go in there and…”

He lifts his hand to make a finger gun, ‘pulling the trigger’ several times before giving you a pointed look. Gin rolls her eyes and raises her eyebrows, waiting for your response. You hadn’t even wanted to bring people with you, but Chuuya insisted on it—he wanted to come himself, but you felt more comfortable with him staying back at headquarters as extra protection for Mori.

“Yes, I’m ready,” you say dryly, not even bothering to acknowledge the second part of what he said.

You have yet to even see Mori despite Kouyou’s insistence that you go to him. You don’t want to see him—you heard enough from Chuuya to know that his condition is bad and you have no interest in seeing him while he’s in such a sorry state. The thought makes your heart twist uncomfortably and you can’t afford to be emotional right now. 

You’ve spent the past four hours trying to plan out what you’ll do if you can’t come to terms with Kunikida and the Armed Detective Agency. The best course of action would have been to have Akutagawa, Klaus and the rest of the Black Lizards positioned around the building for a quick execution once the negotiations fall through but…

But you didn’t do that.

Your eyes flicker over to where Dazai is waiting for you outside of the teahouse; he’s leaning against the wall tapping away at his phone. He’s dressed in that same ugly outfit he wore the last time you were back in Yokohama—the long tan jacket and the bolo tie over his shirt. He probably shouldn’t be up and about already, you can tell he’s still hurt from the way he’s leaning on one side more than the other, but a distinct fondness bubbles in your chest at the sight of him.

Instantly, you push it away, throat tightening because you know you can’t be letting your emotions get the best of you. You can’t go easy on the Armed Detective Agency just because Dazai is with them now; you need to do what’s best for the Mafia.

But you don’t like this. You don’t like that Dazai is the enemy now. You spent years working alongside him, friends with him (more than friends), living with him. You’d known that things would be different between the two of you after you spent that night with him in your apartment a few weeks ago… you just didn’t think you’d be forced to confront it so soon. 

Tachihara steps out of the car first and you watch as Dazai lifts his head, squinting at the sight of the boy. Tachihara makes his way to your door and opens it for you, keeping one hand ready on the grip of his gun as you step out of the car. Dazai’s expression shifts as soon as you’re in his line of view, softening just enough for it to be noticeable to you. Tachihara and Gin trail a few steps behind you as you make your way over to him, he doesn’t speak up until you’re a few steps away. 

“You’re late,” Dazai sings and you can tell that even though his lips curl up into a small smile at the sight of you, he’s not happy to see you. Not because of you, but because of what your presence means. He holds out his hand to you—Tachihara and Gin are instantly stepping forward between the two of you, which Dazai evidently does not like considering the way his expression instantly darkens, only lightening a bit when you wave them off. You purse your lips as you stare at his hand for a moment. “I can’t let you go in there with your ability active.”

“I don’t need my ability against your people,” you say coolly but you place your hand in his anyway. 

It’s not the first time you and Dazai have held hands but it certainly feels like it—the calluses on his hand from firearm use are gone so his skin is softer now and it feels almost… unfamiliar.

Dazai has never felt unfamiliar before.

Dazai laces his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly. Your hands don’t fit right together anymore—it feels awkward—and you wonder if it’s just in your imagination or if he feels it too. He squeezes your hand a bit harder as if trying to force them to fit together, so you think he might and that makes your heart sink a little. 

He looks down at you and you think he’s going to say something, but instead his lips only tighten and his brows furrow as he looks away. You bite back a sigh, wanting to say something yourself but not even sure what would be suitable for this situation.

“Dazai,” you say quietly before the two of you head into the teahouse and there’s an unreadable expression on his face as he waits for you to say something else, but you remember that Tachihara and Gin are not a foot behind you, so you just shake your head. “Nevermind. Let’s get this over with.”

Dazai looks disappointed but not surprised. He doesn’t say anything else as he pushes open the door to the teahouse. The air is brisk and familiar, and with Dazai at your side, you can almost imagine that Chuuya is on your other, that the two of them are escorting you to a negotiation meeting with one of the big Yakuza syndicates the Port Mafia has been at odds with. 

But instead of an oyabun and his advisor sitting at the table in the private room at the back of the teahouse, it’s two members of the Armed Detective Agency. And instead of Dazai taking a seat next to you, he sits at the head of the table as the pseudo-host of the meeting, the one who set it up and knows both sides… but he makes his preferences clear in the way he looks at his fellow detectives, waiting for them to give the first words of the negotiation, a tactical advantage. 

Even with Tachihara and Gin lingering right behind you, you feel alone. 

You almost wish you’d agreed to let Chuuya come with you—he’s familiar, the one person in this world you’ve been able to rely on without having to fear the rug being pulled out from under you. You always feel more confident when he’s at your side, but you needed him to stay with Mori, to hold down the headquarters just on the off-chance the Agency pulled something while you were busy with negotiations. 

So instead, you brave this as you are, squaring your shoulders and raising your chin. You’re not worried about this meeting, you know one way or another, you’ll come out on top against the Agency, but you find yourself more unsettled than you thought you would be due to the lack of familiarity between you and Dazai… and far more disconcerted at the realization that Dazai is an enemy now. 

Since he’s the host, you should be respecting Dazai’s decision of giving the detectives the first words of the negotiation, but you find yourself smiling lightly and tilting your head to the side before speaking. Petty, maybe, and disrespectful, surely, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“You must be Kunikida-san, I want to say that it’s nice to finally meet you but…” you say lightly. You squint and then add, “I can’t help but feel that you’re familiar somehow. Have we met before?”

Dazai gives you a sharp look when you speak up—deserved, but you still give him an equally sharp look back. He can’t expect you to go easy on the detectives just because he’s standing with them now, but it… makes you feel weird. You think again how much you don’t like this; you don’t like being on the opposite side of Dazai, and you especially don’t like the fact that there is a creeping fear that this might create a rift between the two of you.

What did he think would happen? You want to spit at him. He chose to leave the Port Mafia. Chose to leave you. Chose to join up with the enemy. This is on him, he’s the one who changed, you haven’t. He knew what he was getting into by bringing his new friends to the negotiation table with you, he’s been on the right side of it with you countless times before, so he knows what you’re like at the table. 

Shit. 

“You’re that girl,” Kunikida suddenly realizes, squinting. “You came by Granny’s apartment during that gang conflict six years ago. You… you were with the Port Mafia back then? The father you were trying to get to-”

“Yes, that was me,” you agree, remembering just where you’d seen him before, eyes gliding over the blonde man curiously. He’s a far cry from the scrawny teenager you’d met a few years ago, nervous and bumbling to write down everything his grandmother says. “How is she?”

Kunikida’s lips twist. “She passed away two years ago. A stroke.”

“Sorry to hear that,” you say genuinely, frowning, before letting your gaze drift over to the last person in the room. The smile on your lips becomes a bit cooler. “Akiko-chan, it’s been a while. I don’t think I’ve seen you since you left Tokoyami.”

There’s an indecipherable expression on Yosano’s face as she stares at you, and you can’t help the way your lips twist in irritation. You knew there was a chance that she would show up with Kunikida, but you’d been hoping that she wouldn’t. You can’t let it rattle you, but no one gets under your skin like she does—you think that’s probably why she showed, to throw you off your game and make things easier on her coworker.

She’ll find herself sorely mistaken.

The way she says your name grates your nerves—it’s solemn, almost, a hint of remorse that makes your skin crawl. She looks like she wants to say something more than what she actually does, but she settles with, “You look good, better than the last time I saw you. It’s good seeing you again.”

She sounds genuine—that only pisses you off more. 

So your smile tightens as you say, “I look better? The last time I saw you, you were having a mental breakdown and nearly blew all of us up on the Ritter.”

Yosano physically cringes as she averts her gaze, and you turn your attention back to Kunikida and say, “Let’s get down to business, yeah?”

Kunikida sighs. He doesn’t look confident which is a mistake on his part, Dazai can tell too from the way his lips tightens just a bit. You give Dazai a look from the corner of your eye.

You should have prepped your people better.

Dazai gives you a sharp look right back, his fingers tighten around your hand. You ignore it. You hope you don’t look as bothered as it makes you feel, now’s not the time to show any weakness, especially to someone like Dazai. Especially when he’s not an ally. 

Shit, you think again, this time a bit more distressed. You swallow your discomfort and think again: what did he expect from this? It’s only a shallow consolation this time. You push on when Kunikida starts talking.

“I don’t see how we have anything to talk about,” Kunikida says, clearing his throat. “There’s nothing you can say that can bring us to an agreement under these circumstances.”

Alright, business time. This you can do. 

You just have to ignore the weight of Dazai’s hand on your own. 

“You are looking at this situation from the perspective of an employee who cares for Fukuzawa-dono,” you say, leaning back in your seat and folding your hands over the table. Dazai’s hand drops to the table and he shifts to hold your wrist, giving you a side-eye as if warning you not to slip from his grasp. You ignore it. “I empathize with your predicament. I do. But we can’t let our emotions rule us when the fate of the entire city is dependent on how this conflict is resolved.”

Kunikida is stiff on the opposite side of the table as soon as you start speaking, clearly uncomfortable with this whole meeting. Yosano holds her chin high as she stares down at you and you only raise your eyebrows at her before turning your attention back to the blonde.

“You have been named the interim director of the Armed Detective Agency, and from what I’ve heard, Fukuzawa-dono intends to name you President once he inevitably retires,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you observe Kunikida. “I’ve met the man often enough to know that he wouldn’t allow a man who’s rash and emotional to lead his organization. Neither you nor I want this to escalate to open conflict. There will be too many casualties on both sides.”

“Hm,” Kunikida says, pushing back his glasses as he considers his words. “And yet, we have a way around casualties on our end, thanks to one of our own—Yosano-sensei. The Port Mafia does not have any such means.”

Yosano stiffens when she sees the smile that curves at the corners of your lips.

“Your second attempt at an immortal regiment, Akiko-chan, I hope this one fares better than your last,” you comment with an easy smile before focusing your attention back on Kunikida, watching as the man casts a curious look between you and Yosano. You wonder how much she told the Agency of your shared past—seemingly very little. “I fear that even if your doctor is able to continuously heal all members of the Agency—assuming you’re never separated, which is unlikely—repetitive death breaks the human mind. How many times will she heal you and your other detectives before your minds start to fray? I’d wager the weretiger’s mind will break first—after the fourth resurrection, between dying over and over again and watching his friends die… from what I hear, the boy is quite the gentle soul with a fragile mind. He’ll try to stay strong for your sake, but it’ll be too much for him.”

You feel Dazai’s fingers tighten on your hand in warning, clearly not appreciating the way you’re talking about his new protege and to his friends. You ignore him, but it’s harder than you expect. You don’t like this. You don’t, even with you telling yourself that this is his fault, you still find yourself bothered by it all. It hurts being at odds with Dazai like this, in a way that you never imagined you would be; he’s supposed to come to your apartment after this, but you don’t even know if he’ll show. 

You don’t know if you’ll be able to look him in the eye if he does. 

God, and that thought only pisses you off more, because you shouldn’t be feeling guilty over this. Not when Dazai knew what he was getting into. Not when it was Dazai’s choice to leave the Port Mafia and join the enemy. You’re doing what you’ve always done, and you’ve never felt guilty for it before, and you shouldn’t now. Not because of him. 

“Our numbers overwhelm yours by a long shot. In a war of attrition, we’ll win. Your minds will break long before we run out of bodies to throw at you,” you finish, a bit more coldly than you’d begun. “There’s no scenario where you enter an open conflict with the Port Mafia and win.”

Yosano and Kunikida share a look with one another and you watch as Kunikida sighs before pressing his lips together, gaze hardening on you. “So, what do you propose? Do you just want us to hand over the President on a silver platter? Because that’s not happening.”

Phase Two.

You went into this knowing that you wouldn’t likely be able to sway Kunikida’s mind on handing Fukuzawa over to be executed, but that was never your intention to begin with. You just needed the chance to plant the seeds of doubt, to make him question himself so he can make a mistake that you can capitalize on.

Dazai realizes this from the way he stiffens, and you know he can’t be happy.

You don’t care.

You don’t.

“I want you to approach this how Fukuzawa-dono would as his stand-in,” you say. You itch to look at Dazai, want to know what’s running through his head right now. You don’t. “What do you know of the Port Mafia, Kunikida-san?”

“What kind of question is that?” Kunikida frowns, looking thoroughly displeased, but you’re unperturbed.

“Many people liken us to be the wardens of the night,” you explain, taking a sip of your tea. “We protect the city from the shadows, preventing an increase in petty and violent crime by discouraging lesser criminals who know that they’ll be hunted down for committing crimes in our territory.”

Your fingers thrum against your wine glass as you choose your next words carefully.

“It goes beyond that. Port Mafia presence in Yokohama serves as a deterrence to foreign criminal organizations-”

“A right good job you guys have been doing at that,” Yosano says snidely. 

You meet her gaze for half a second before focusing back on Kunikida. “Port Mafia presence in Yokohama serves as a deterrence to foreign criminal organizations,” you repeat coolly, ignoring the interruption. “Before the arrival of the Guild, there have only been two occasions of foreign organizations invading our territory, both conflicts were handled by us. The Guild Incident occurred because of the Agency’s decision to keep the weretiger-”

“That’s not fair,” Dazai says, voice low, grip on your hand tight. “We helped him. He needed help, so I-”

Dazai cuts himself off abruptly and you remember the night you spent with him a few weeks ago. You remember Oda Sakunosuke’s last words to him. You find yourself hesitating, considering dropping the topic for his sake, but you can’t, not with so much at stake.

When you continue speaking, the words taste bitter. 

“The agency’s decision to help the tiger then. Semantics. Either way, the decision laid in the Agency’s hands, not ours,” you correct, watching as Kunikida shifts uncomfortably at your words. “It wasn’t meant to be an accusation, only a statement. I’m not here to throw stones. My point is that we responded to the Guild Incident despite our attempts to prevent it from escalating, and we are not in a good position because of it. We faced major casualties at the hands of the Guild, several of our port warehouses were destroyed, one of our executives is dead—we cannot handle another conflict right now and the entire world knows it. Yokohama is being circled by sharks as we speak—Murasaki Shibiku’s Morning Glory, the Inagawa and Shimazaki-kai, Yi Sang’s Crow’s Eye, Cao Xueqin’s Red Chamber—they’re all waiting for the first drop of blood to spill in the water. If Mori dies, it’ll be as if an entire bucket of blood was spilled into the water. How well-versed are you in the organizations of the Eastern Hemisphere’s underworld, Kunikida-san?”

“Not very,” Kunikida replies tightly. 

“Dazai, what does the Red Chamber do to their enemies?” 

You don’t have to look at Dazai to feel the way he gives you a dark look. He pointedly doesn’t respond so you smile and answer your own question. A false bravado because you think your fingers might be trembling a little, and you’re sure that he can feel it, but you press on. You always press on. 

“They have their enemies chopped into pieces and scatter all of the different pieces across the country to prevent them from ever having a proper burial,” you say, watching a ghastly expression cross Kunikida’s face as he looks away. “Then they hunt down all blood relatives and anyone vaguely associated with the person to have them fed to starving hounds. Do you know how the Crow’s Eye deals with their enemies?” 

“No,” Kunikida replies. “I don’t care to know.”

“You will when it’s your entire ward burning because of you,” you say easily. “Scorched earth. The last time the Crow’s Eye had a conflict with an organization, an entire city burned for five days straight. Thousands of casualties for an insult.”

“What is the point of this?” Kunikida asks, voice strained—he does an impressive job at hiding the way he’s unnerved by your words. “Are you trying to scare us into giving you what you want? It won’t work.”

“Not at all,” you say dismissively. “I’m just making sure you know all of the cards on the table, and again, urging you to make your decision with your head and not your heart.. There is more at stake here than just two lives. Yokohama will be plunged into chaos if Mori dies… the streets will run with blood, wards will burn to the ground. The Dragon’s Head Conflict will look like child’s play compared to what’s to come, and I know you felt the effects of that conflict personally, Kunikida-san. Before making any decision, just ask yourself if this is what Fukuzawa-dono would have wanted?”

Kunikida doesn’t respond, you don’t expect him to. So, you slip your hand free from Dazai’s and rise to your feet with a thin smile.

“I’ll take my leave now so you can discuss your options with the other members of the Agency,” you tell them. “Dazai knows how to get in contact with me once you’ve come to a decision. It was a pleasure seeing you both again, Kunikida-san, Akiko-chan.”

“I warned them not to join you at the negotiation table,” Dazai sighs whimsically as he steps into your apartment. Your eyes lift from your phone to where he slides his jacket off of his shoulders and drapes it onto a kitchen chair before making his way to you on the couch. “They didn’t listen to me.”

“Their mistake. I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway, all of that was for nothing,” you say lightly, putting your phone down on the table. You don’t move toward him, watching him carefully to try to gauge where he’s at. His expression is indecipherable, but his shoulders are tense and each movement he makes seems a bit stiff and jolted. “I didn’t think you would show up.”

“Why is that?” 

His tone changes at your question, becomes cooler and more withdrawn. His expression shifts too—he doesn’t turn to look at you, but you can see from the angle you’re standing the way his lips curve down and his eyes sharpen. He’s testing you for something, probably wants you to admit that he has reason to be mad at you to give him a leg up in the conversation—he’s always loved playing games like that. 

“I’ve never seen you so emotional while dealing with business,” you note instead, not giving him that leverage against you. You fold your arms over your chest and study him. “It was… interesting to see.”

You’re not in the mood to play games, but you humor him. Dazai is not pleased by your comment, you can tell from the way his gaze cuts to the side to focus on you. Now, he’s familiar: his eyes are cold and black, his expression closed off. This is the Dazai you remember—the one who would sit next to you at executive meetings and stand behind you during negotiations, except even now, he’s opposite you.

You hate it.

You expect him to snap back at you with something along the lines of you being more emotional than usual too because you know he felt the way your fingers were trembling at one point during the negotiations, but instead, you watch as his expression instantly smooths out and clears up. He turns a smile onto you that doesn’t fully meet his eyes and you know what he’s about to do before the words even leave his lips.

“So, what’re we watching? There are some new movies, and I’m gonna, y’know, swipe your card to order some food, and…”

Dazai’s still talking. His lips are moving—you’re watching them move—but his words are going in one ear, out the other. You think maybe you should take the out he’s given the two of you. The conversation that needs to be had… it’s not going to be a pleasant one. In fact, depending on how it goes, it might be your last one with him. 

If you guys can’t reconcile with the fact that you’re no longer on the same side, this will have to end.

You can’t go into every conflict with the Agency feeling like you’re walking on eggshells because of Dazai. Your priority has been and always will be the Port Mafia. Dazai’s decision to leave can’t affect that. You also know that if he’s actively upset with you, it will affect that, because you don’t like seeing Dazai upset, you never have and that hasn’t changed the past four years without him. 

If the two of you can’t come to an understanding about it… You don’t even know if it’s possible to come to an understanding about something like this, but it’s you and Dazai, so if anyone can come to an understanding about it, it’s you guys. 

“Stop,” you finally say, voice more tired than you intend for it to be. Dazai pauses and then looks at you cautiously. You wonder if he’ll make an excuse and try to run once he realizes you’re not going to let this drop—it wouldn’t be the first time he’s fled instead of confronting an issue. “Can we talk about this?” 

“Talk about what?

Oh, this boy knows how to get under your skin. You stare at him for a second, lips flat and arms crossed; he doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. He’s entirely unrepentant as he stares right back at you, waiting to see if you’ll push the topic, but you don’t want to play games with him. You’ve had a long day, you’re jet lagged, you have a headache and you don’t even want to have this conversation but you know you have to have it.

“Forget it,” you finally say, shaking your head. “You can leave.”

Dazai blinks. “What?” he asks, voice laced with disbelief. “But-”

“Whether you like it or not, we have to talk about this,” you say, shrugging. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you can leave. Just don’t come back.”

Dazai stares at you. He’s hurt, you can tell from the way he withdraws at your words. For a second, you really expect him to leave; you’re tense as you watch him carefully, guarding yourself so that it doesn’t sting when he inevitably turns on his heel and goes back the way he came. After what feels like an eternity, his shoulders finally slump and he looks away, trying to figure out what to say.

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, the theatrics gone as he stares at you dully. “You were cruel to them. Making digs at Yosano-sensei, tormenting Kunikida-kun with those descriptions of the foreign mafias and making him think that the President would want him to kill him. You were cruel. I didn’t expect it, I guess.”

“Dazai Osamu admitting he didn’t expect something, I almost wish I got that on tape,” you say dryly. Dazai’s expression hardens at the comment—you probably shouldn’t have said that, you know Dazai doesn’t like getting vulnerable and gets especially defensive when he does, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Before he can get all wound up, you continue, “I am cruel, Osamu. You know that.”

The fight seeps out of Dazai at your words. He looks away from you, and you make your way over to him. You lift your hands up to cup his cheeks as you take your place in front of him, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are heavy in a way that’s so unfamiliar to you—you’ve been with Dazai during his worst depression episodes, you’ve been with him when he puts up that whole front of the Demon Prodigy, you’ve seen him hurt and you’ve seen him angry, but this is… different. It’s more intense. It’s reluctant, riddled with anxiety, like there’s a deep rooted fear that he’s worried will come true.

You wonder if he’s come to the same realization as you—that if the two of you can’t talk through this, it’ll be the end.

“I’ve never been on the opposite side of it,” he confesses quietly. “I… didn’t like it.”

You… can’t really blame him for that. As much as you’ve been around Dazai while he’s been the “Black Wraith” and the “Demon Prodigy”, he’s never directed it toward you. In fact, he’s always been careful to shield you from that side of him whenever possible even though he knows that’s not necessary. You suppose you would be just as jarred if you were suddenly faced with it. 

“It wasn’t directed toward you, Osamu,” you sigh, lifting your hand to run your fingers through his hair, watching the way his lashes flutter before you return to cupping his face. “You know that.”

“It was though,” he disagrees. “It was directed toward them so it was directed toward me.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. Your hands drop from his face as you look away from him, considering his words carefully and trying to figure out what to say next. This is the point of no return—either the two of you will be able to move forward, or this will be the end of your relationship. For real, this time because years apart and questions about whether the two of you are the same as you used to be is moot when your conflicting situations make your relationship incompatible. 

“I can’t apologize, Osamu,” you finally say, swallowing thickly. You can feel his gaze heavy on you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet it. “Not for what I did. I can apologize for how it made you feel, but not for doing it… and I can’t promise not to do it again.”

“I know,” he replies. “I don’t expect you to. It was just…different. Not in a good way. But what are we going to do about it?” 

He gives you a wry smile, one that you can only match half-heartedly. You watch him carefully for a moment, taking note of the hesitant expression on his face. He tries to hide it behind a curious mask, but you can see the anxiety thinly veiled behind his eyes. After a few moments, you nod for him to follow you and sit down on the couch, holding your hand out to him.

He hesitates before taking it, and you’re careful to avoid his healing wounds as you shift to lay down and pull him along with you to lay on top of you, watching as he rests his head on your chest and lets out a shaky breath. You lift your hand up to cradle the back of his head, and his eyes slide shut. His expression is still far from peaceful, you can see how his brows remain furrowed and his lips curve down, but he’s less anxious at least. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you tell him, all of the nerves that have been bugging you since the meeting wash away now that he’s back in your arms. “We always do.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” he admits quietly. “I lose everything eventually… It’s inevitable, one way or another, it always happens, but I can’t handle losing you. Not ever.”

“We made it this far,” you tell him, stroking his hair. He looks up at you and his expression is uncharacteristically vulnerable, it makes your chest tighten painfully. “We’ll be fine, Osamu. We always are. We’ll figure it out… Anyway, I doubt we’ll be on opposite sides for long, I think the city is about to be in a lot of trouble. We’ll probably have to work alongside each other if we even want to stand a chance.”

You can’t help the way you grimace, looking away. With Dostoevsky’s involvement confirmed, you have way more to worry about than just the Armed Detective Agency. You’ve heard through the grapevine that Agatha Christie and the Order of the Clocktower have been actively working with the House of the Dead, and you know very well that Dostoevsky has several other organizations in the Eastern Hemisphere in his pocket—both the Crow’s Eye and the Morning Glory have done dirty work for him before, and Cao Xueqin will ride the coattails of whoever is fighting against the Port Mafia. You’re surprised that he didn’t make a move these past few days. 

“What have you figured out about him already?” Dazai asks curiously, tilting his head up to look at you. He ghosts his lips against your jaw before settling his face in the crook of your neck. “Tell me what you know, maybe we can figure something out.”

Like old times, you think wistfully back to the days the two of you would lounge on this very couch as you rattled off all of the information you gathered during interrogations and negotiations. He’d absorb it all like a sponge and put together things and come to conclusions that would’ve taken you hours to get to.

But it’s not old times anymore, you remind yourself dully, absently running your fingers through his hair. Even if it’s likely that the Agency and the Port Mafia will end up working together against a common enemy in the near future, there’s no such alliance right now, so it’s risky telling him intel that could be more valuable to the Mafia if it’s the only one who is aware of it.

“Not enough yet,” you say honestly. “I was supposed to meet with Carlo Goldoni of the Family and the Pope in the Vatican before this went down. They claimed to have some intel about Dostoevsky that could be critical in the conflict with him, but I didn’t get the chance to talk to them. I’m heading back there tomorrow morning to talk to them… I’ll call you after depending on what they say. Maybe we can debrief.”

Maybe a reckless decision considering there’s the off chance that Mori refuses to work with the Agency and you know that he’ll be on your ass for giving them information, but the way Dazai smiles softly against your neck makes up for it. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, and then he lets out a huff of laughter that tickles your neck. “But don’t tell me anything in detail, just enough to let me guess, that way if Mori questions you about it, you can say you didn’t tell me and not be lying… We can make a game out of it.”

Not quite like old times, but you suppose things will never go back to how they were. That’s not necessarily a bad thing though, different can be good—better, even. All that matters is that it’s you and him, just as it's always been, and if it’s the two of you, things will always work out.

His hand slides down to entwine with yours, and this time there’s no question about it—it’s familiar, like home, your hands slot together like they’d been made for each other and you almost feel stupid for questioning things so hard earlier in the day.

“Yeah,” you agree with a soft smile. “Yeah, we can. We’ll be alright.”

Dazai presses his lips against the hollow of your neck, and then to your jaw, and then to yours. You can feel his lips curve up against yours—he steals one, two, then three kisses before he sighs and nuzzles his face into the side of yours, resting his head down on the pillow next to you.

“We will be.”

[sayruq]

Here's another update because the situation is changing again.

The fighting continues

Things are clearly not going well for the Israelis because they've trotted out the widely unpopular president of the Palestinian Authority to try and weaken support for Hamas among Palestinians and the global South.

For a while there, it seemed Israel was truly preparing for the ground invasion of Gaza it has been promising since Operation Al Aqsa Flood started

Israel has even come up with a plan for the tunnels of Gaza that the Palestinian resistance was planning on using and it's predictably evil and, by their own admission, unlikely to truly work

Israel and Hezbollah have been increasingly tussling over the past day and a half. Remember Hezbollah has said if there's a ground operation in Gaza, it will officially join the war (unofficially, it's been supporting Palestine by bombing military targets in northern and southern Israel)

Israel is understandable worried about Hezbollah. After all, they were humiliated in 2006 when they invaded Lebanon. They were so humiliated, they don't really mess with Hezbollah (prior to this war that is). They bomb Syria, assassinate Iranian officials, bomb the Egyptian border but they largely leave Lebanon alone.

In fact, they're so worried about facing Hamas in Gaza with Hezbollah and possibly Iran coming in that the inevitable Gaza ground operation started to get hiccups

Ah yes, clouds.

But that's not the real reason. Rumours have been circulating that there has desertions in the army, enough people are leaving that the top Israeli military officials are having trouble with their plans. Morale is also very low which is part of the reason they're attacking Gaza so heavily. It's a depraved and desperate attempt to project strength to their soldiers and the settlers

There is also the fact that Hezbollah is nothing to sneer at

The situation is simply not looking good for Israel at all and America is rightly worried

America has tried helping it out by convincing Iran to back down

I bet both America and Israel regret all those assassinations.

So, what now? It should be obvious that a ground of invasion of Gaza is unlikely to happen

Israel situation is so humbling, it is putting out statements like this. Imagine Israel saying this 2 weeks ago

Surely without a ground invasion, Iran and Hezbollah will also back down? Nope, the red line has shifted and now Israel has to stop its bombardment of Gaza or face a regional war

Israel now has a choice to make that will decide the future of the settler colony

Of course when Israel inevitably backs down, it'll try to frame it as though it was because the West pressured them to, out of concern for Palestinians. Nevermind Biden outrightly lying about seeing pictures of the 40 beheaded babies and this

and also nevermind that the entire western media has been calling for genocide against Palestinians. Nevermind the EU's first act when the war broke out was to cut off aid to Palestine.

Needless to say the rest of the world will know what caused Israel to back down.

Palestine.

Palestinians have dealt a huge blow, not just to Israel but also the US and the EU who have lost a lot of credibility by publicly calling for and materially supporting genocide in Gaza.

Best believe the global South has been watching this closely.

[ktamina]

SID for Metal Hammer, 1999

¡¡¡FULL interview here!!!

SID WILSON

Age: 22.

Marital status: I have a girlfriend.

Nickname?: Filth, or the epitome of...

Born and bred?: Born in Des Moines although my whole family is from England.

Instrument played?: Turntables.

Band previous to Slipknot?: I have a DJ crew called Soundproof Coalition, who are based out of Des Moines.

First record bought?: The first one I owned was the Miami Vice soundtrack which my parents bought for me.

First band seen live?: I was really young and my parents took me to see Sheena Easton.

Describe yourself in three words: Organic brain syndrome.

What does your mask represent?: To me it's like I'm killing myself on stage. I am constantly at war as the gas mask reminds people at war, so it's like I am constantly dying up there.

Was the visual image your idea?: Yeah, it kinda fell in my lap. I got into the band and was looking for a mask and the gas mask kinda found me. Since then I have been pretty interested in them and If I ever see one I buy it. Right now I have seven or eight of them.

Special Ingredient you bring to the band?: Youth, as I am the youngest member of the band which keeps it fresh.

What is your greatest fear?: Dying young. It is something I think about, as you can die from all kinds of things- I could break my neck at a show, catch a disease or the government could assassinate me.

What is your idea of hell?: I don't believe in it. If there is a hell, planet earth is it.

First job: Working at raves.

Have you ever experimented with auto eroticism?: Yeah, I guess I have. I've wore choke collars, as in the rave scene there have been a lot of experiences which have been pretty crazy.

Tell me your favorite sexual fantasy introducing Salvador Dalí (the late great surrealist painter), an orange, and a bicycle?: I would ride the bicycle for three hours to be completely exhausted, then me and my girlfriend would enter the painting with the melted clocks in it (The Persistence of Memory) and then at the point of orgasm melt like the clocks and eat the oranges for a reward.

Do you enjoy a good wank?: Yeah, every day. When we went on The Howard Stern Show I wanted in show him my cock and I was trying to keep it a decent hanging size, so I was jerking off, and by the time we were on it only lasted a minute so I didn't even get the chance to show it. I think he was actually quite scared of it.

Do you often wank in public?: It depends. When I go into my personality of number 0 the number takes over and I never know what he is going to do, but myself, not really.

What would be the concept for a Slipknot porno movie?: I probably wouldn't do much talking as when I am in my alter ego of 0 I don't talk much. There would be a lot of drooling, slobbering and grunting. There would be no need for dialect, just get down to it.

Hobbies outside the band?: I like to snowboard and sculpt with clay. I am also into cooking. My mom has been teaching me since I was three. My speciality is french crepes.

Fave horror movie?: Evil Dead 2 and Army Of Darkness.

Fave author?: Edgar Allen Poe is the only literature have ever finished reading.

Band you'd like to tour with?: It wouldn't go in with the genre of Skipknot, but me personally, it would be The Beastie Boys. At the point when I got into DJing, break dancing and hip hop The Beastie Boys were a big part of that. I have always listened to them.

Who do you think is the most heavy metal band of all time?: Slipknot.

Worst way to die?: Without my family. By myself.

If your house was burning down. What is the one thing you would run in and save?: If all my family was out, I would have to go and get the hair wrap my girlfriend gave me before we started dating. It is made out of her hair.

If you were the president of the USA for a day and could achieve one thing only. What would it be?: I would make it a free country and expose the government for what it is.

What is your dog called?: Mary Jane Wilson. She's part whippet and part dingo.

if you read all this follow me ¡HERE! I post media of Sid every 4 hours ♡

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Thinking about the Squire from Nimona rn

Imagine being in possession of the sole proof that the Director of the FBI assassinated the President and framed your celebrity crush for it

And proceeding to do absolutely fuckall about it

Like Pedro Pascal is being hunted down by the authorities and you (and you alone) know he's innocent and have video proof of a MASSIVE conspiracy and your attitude is just "I don't get paid enough to care"

?????

[rveyjules]

A Second Chance

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst

Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings,  p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)

Word Count: 4.8k+

Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?

author's note: This is the third part of my story. It was supposed to be posted yesterday but then our internet went oops. This story is entirely fictional. I do not know exactly what the President and the Prime Minister do for the country. It is the same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue, so please don't hesitate to let me know if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.

Part 1 Part 2

—

“I need to talk to you,” You started in a stern tone. 

          Okay, change of plans, you thought. Leon nodded and stood aside and let you in. You went inside, looking around his apartment unit. His place was dimmed, reflecting his personality. You heard him close the door and approached you. 

“How did you know that I am living across from your place?” He asked and you scoffed. 

“Isn’t this place included in your address in your personal data? I checked it.” You replied looking around his place.

          He does not have too much stuff. A TV, couch, coffee table, and a carpet in the living room. His kitchen has a stove, oven, a sink, and a dish organizer. And his room which you are expecting to be neat and tidy with a closet, a comfortable bed, a desk with whatever he has. 

“I won’t stay too long. I just want to tell you some things.” 

“Well, you don’t need to go here. You can just call me.”

“But I want to see you personally,” With your answer, Leon smirked and crossed his arms to his chest, looking at you with his brow raised. You cleared your throat and continued. “I mean, you are my bodyguard so I believe there’s nothing wrong if the boss personally visited her employee.” 

“Since when did you start explaining yourself?” Leon smirked, making you speechless. 

               You don’t like explaining yourself when you have made a decision and this time is beyond unexpected. “Are you questioning my decision to explain myself? Your face brightened up when I said I want to meet you personally but the reason why I am here is to tell you something.” 

“And what is it, sweetie?” He added. 

“Stop with the nicknames, Leon. I am not playing around with you. I just want to warn you that David is getting suspicious of us. Your gestures are crossing the line of the relationship of the boss and her bodyguard. If David noticed it, what more when the people do?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t you think because your former bodyguards don't show how bodyguards must act protective like I do around you? No wonder bullets managed to be fired without the guard realizing that someone has threatened your life.” 

“Leon, I know that you are trying to get closer to me again. Your blazer jacket won’t protect me from bullets.” You rebutted. 

“Hah! That’s what you thought! That blazer jacket is bulletproof. The President gave it to me personally. Don’t you appreciate the President’s effort to protect you?”

“I do appreciate him!” You snapped. “And why are you talking back to me? I am your boss! You have no right to— hmph!” Leon interrupted you by cupping your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly. 

          You were surprised by the sudden action and tried to push him away but Leon didn’t let you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and waist, bringing you closer to him. He truly missed you, he missed kissing you, he missed embracing you into his arms. Slowly, you give in to him. You did not kiss him back but you did not pull away or attempt to push him away. You just let him be. 

            The kiss lasted until both of you needed to pull away to breathe. Leon was smiling at your flushed expression and kissed your cheek. “Don’t scold me anymore. I understand that you are just protecting your image. But please also understand why am I being affectionate of you aside from protecting you from harm luring around.” 

“That’s because I am marrying David,” You added. “I don’t want to look like I am being unfaithful to my fiance.” 

“You’re just using him as your excuse. Too bad that trick of yours did not work on me.”

              He’s right. Including David in this conversation is just your way of hiding the reason why you go there. You wanted to confront him already. You have a lot of questions in your mind that are still unanswered. You badly want them to be solved right away. Seeing Leon after fifteen years is unbearable for you. And he knows it. 

             Leon felt that you were tearing up, unable to express the feeling you wanted to express. You felt weak, feeling the lump forming in your throat that prevents you from speaking. He hugged you, resting your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. You stayed like that, feeling each other’s warmth. 

“I hate you… so much.” You whispered.

“And I love you more, darling.” He replied, gently tilting your head up and pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply.

—

               The next day, you went to the White House after receiving a call from the President that there’s something that needs to be discussed regarding the conflict between the US and Russia. The meeting took three hours. You gave suggestions and the President appointed specific government agencies to settle things first with Russia before deciding if there will be a war if Russia did not agree on the agreement that was prepared by the US. Being the President’s secret weapon is a big responsibility. He trusts your plans and suggestions along with other government agencies. You are one of the representatives of the US in the UN. Other world leaders acknowledged your presence. And that’s the proof that you are one of the most powerful women in the world.

               You are now currently in the waiting room, alone while reading a book. The President told you to wait for your father to come as he needs to attend another meeting with the councils. While waiting, you heard the door open. You turned your head and saw David, grinning from ear to ear.

“So, how is the show? Shall I give you an award as the Outstanding Seductress of All Time?” He teased you as he closed the door behind him and walked towards you. 

               You rolled your eyes on him, “I did your advice. Where’s my $100,000?” You asked directly to the point. David gasped at you. “You seriously went naked and danced while your stalker was watching?!” 

“For the sake of $100,000, I did.” 

“What?! Seriously?!” David couldn’t believe that you actually did that and be unbothered at the ridiculous action you made. 

             You did not regret it. Knowing that your stalker was always keeping an eye on you whether it was private or out in public. You flipped the page of the book and smirked. “If I were you, I wouldn’t include money if you’re making a dangerous bet with a woman like me. So, yeah. $100,000 must be added to my bank account right now.” 

“Fine,” David grinned and pulled out his phone and opened his bank app and sent you the money. 

            Your phone dinged, saying that you received the money already. You opened your phone and to your surprise, David only sent you $1. You shoot him a death glare and close the book. David loves annoying you and he knew that he fucked up. 

            You pounced on him, sitting on his lap and took his phone out of his grasp. Thankfully, his phone isn’t locked yet so you tapped some icons to send money. David moved, trying to grab his phone back but you shoved him off and stood up to proceed in sending the money to your account. 

“Yah! Give me my phone!” David whined. You ignored him and sent the $99,999 left to complete the $100,000 bet.

           After successfully sending the money, you press the home screen and to your surprise, you are David’s wallpaper. You smirked and looked at him, showing his wallpaper. “What is this?” You teased me. 

“Give it back to me!” David hissed, attempting to take his phone back but you ran around the room while he was trying to get his phone back. You keep running until David pounces on you, causing you to fall to the floor. 

               Both of you are wrestling each other with loud noises coming from your mouths. Leon, who came back to the White House after dealing with some stuff, went to the waiting room where you are in. He got inside of the room without knocking and then… his heart dropped to his stomach. He saw David being on top of you. You felt his presence so you decided to give the phone back to David and pushed him off you. 

“O-oh… Agent Kennedy!” David greeted him, still trying to reach for his phone, meaning that he was moving his body against yours that was inappropriate for Leon. 

             In the end, David grabbed his phone from your grasp and got off you. You scoffed and stood up, fixing your skirt. Leon was stunned, seeing you in a submissive position under David. He cleared his throat and spoke…

“Miss L/n, your father has arrived.” There’s a jealousy in his voice. He couldn’t even look you in the eye. 

“Alright, I’m coming.” You went to the couch and grabbed your purse before leaving the door with Leon, tailing behind you. 

—

            As usual, you did not have a good conversation with your dad. He was still persuading you to marry David to keep the family’s legacy and to be powerful in the future. He was planning to run for the position of the President after the current President’s term ends. Having you beside him is a big advantage. With your influence, he trusts your plans to make him successfully reach the top. 

           You would help your father, yes. But he is crossing the boundary already. He had been pressuring you ever since. Even after you survived the apocalypse, your father did not even ask you how you are. Instead, he scolded you for going there and accused you of seeing someone in that city. Well, yes. Leon’s the reason why you go there. You went to Raccoon City to congratulate him personally on his first day as a police officer. But then, shit happens. 

           There are times where you’d glare at him behind his back. He looks like he’s a good family man in public, smiling at children and wife. But behind closed doors, he was a demanding father. He’s expecting his children to bring him fortune and help him climb the political ladder. That’s why his children studied Law. But among his children, you are the most unfavored one. 

           Your father argued about your arranged marriage with David. You received a lot of hurtful words. You were used to it but this time… you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You are nothing but a disgrace in this family! After all the things I’ve done for you—” He said but you interrupted him. “You’ve done nothing but to bring me pain, Papa!” You snapped at him. 

          Your father was shocked to hear you talking back to him. 

“I’ve done everything for you, Papa! I did everything you told me to do! But it’s too much…” You lowered your voice as tears started falling down your eyes. 

“Why are you crying? I am not even giving you a reason to cry!” He yelled at you. 

“You did a lot of times, Papa! There are a lot of reasons for me to cry but there’s only one cause and that’s you! No one has given me this kind of pain but my own father! You never comforted me after I survived the zombie apocalypse in Raccoon City! You wanted me to be like this and to be like that and I did because I am your obedient daughter! And you always turn your back on me when I need you the most…” You sobbed. 

“For you, I am not your daughter, but your retirement plan.” 

            After that, you left your father in pain. You asked Leon to bring you home. You told the executive secretary to tell the President that there’s an urgent meeting in the law firm as well as you need to do something in the CIA. Leon knew that something wasn't right despite his jealousy. Your eyes were telling him that you needed someone to lean on. And in your case, no one knows what kind of comfort you need. Not Ashley, not David, the President, or even your own family. 

              During your ride, you fell asleep without noticing because of exhaustion. Leon saw you sleeping in peace so he decided to go to McDonald's drive thru to buy some food for you to eat when you wake up. Back then, when you are still together, eating relieves your stress. That’s why you’d ask him to buy you food when he comes home from the Police Academy. He remembers every detail of what to do when you are in this kind of situation. He also bought you sodas, juices, and chocolates because you have a sweet tooth. 

            While he was out, buying you chips from the convenience store, you stirred awake. You were quite confused why the hell are you in the parking lot of a convenience store. You peeked out and found Leon inside with bags of your favorite chips in his arms, walking to the counter. You smiled a little, realizing that he remembers what to do when you felt uneasy. When he was coming back, you returned to your sleeping position and closed your eyes, pretending to sleep. 

           You heard the door open and Leon get inside, looking at your sleeping figure. He smiled and held your hand for a second before putting the plastics of chips and drinks in the passenger seat beside his seat. He closed the door and drove away to the place where you can be free and ease the heavy feeling you have. 

             The ride was so long that you fell asleep again. When you woke up, it was already sunset. Leon wasn’t in the driver’s seat which confused you. You peeked out of the window and found that you are on top of a mountain where you can see the beautiful city lights that started to spew. You got out and looked around your surroundings. Leon was there, standing staring into the peaceful city. 

“Leon, where are we?” You asked, approaching him. “You’re going to kill me?” You asked. 

“Of course not. If I do, then it would also be the death of me.” He chuckled. 

          You turned to your side and looked into the city from afar. It was so peaceful here. Only the sounds of wind blowing making your hair dance in the air calms you, slowly losing the heavy feeling you have due to your argument with your father. Even without saying it, Leon felt it. He smiled that he somehow helped you ease your mind from the stressful work you have in the city. 

           After a long silence, you decided to confront him already regarding your complicated relationship with him. This is the perfect time for your questions to be answered…

“Why did you come back?” You asked. 

              Leon looked at you and found you looking to afar, waiting for his response. 

“If I tell you the reason, will you believe me?” 

“That depends on your answer whether it was acceptable for me or not.” You replied. 

“Y/n, are you still angry at me?” He asked.

“Yes. I answered your question, now answer mine.” 

“I’ll answer it at the right time.” 

“Isn’t this the right time for me to know?”

“Yes. I will tell you but not now.”  

“Okay, another question. Were you stalking me?” You asked, catching Leon off guard. 

“What?” He asked, surprised. You looked at him and scoffed. 

“Don’t ask me that or even give me that look as if I was wrong. You even put cameras around my place to keep an eye on me. Shall I compliment you for being a protective bodyguard, Agent Kennedy?” You asked sarcastically. 

“I knew that you had intentions why you accepted the offer to become my bodyguard. But I want you to know that I never needed anyone to save me in the first place. I’ve survived five assassination attempts and none of them was successful. Most especially, I never wanted to see you again.” You said, without hesitation. 

“Now you know the truth, you can shut up already. Just go and eat the food I bought for you.”  Leon responded, trying to change the topic again. He knew that this would end up into something worse so he wants to stop it before it occurs. 

“See? Even now… you’re avoiding my point again. You’re pushing me away. But what can I expect from you? You’re nothing but a traitor. You’re selfish!” Feeling yourself out of control, those words slipped out of your mouth and tears clouded your eyes.

“Enough, Y/n…” He warned you but you keep pushing his buttons. 

“Isn’t it true?! You’re selfish! You’re a liar! A cheater!” You called him such names that made him lose his patience so he yelled. 

“I said enough!” He shot you a glare. It silenced you. 

“You have no idea how much I regret leaving you that night, Y/n! I am having nightmares not because of that zombie outbreak or even Ada but you! Because I still care about you! Morning, noon, and night, I care about you!” 

            You retorted, “After fifteen fucking years, Leon! After betraying me for a manipulative woman, you got the nerve to say that you cared about me!” Tears started to spill out of your eyes. “You know that you can decline the President’s offer to recommend you to the Prime Minister to become my bodyguard but why did you come back? Why did you think of coming back? Why did you accept the offer?”

“I want to protect you, Y/n. I badly want to protect you. I’ve been working secretly to capture those bastards who tried to assassinate you, ordered by the President. And yes, you are right! I could’ve declined the offer already but I didn’t because I care about you!” 

“I wish you knows how badly you fucked me up that night. You know I don’t deserve that. My only mistake was that I made you my priority when I was just your second choice.” You sobbed. “Everytime I look at you, I keep wondering how you felt when you left. I wonder if you had any regrets when you escaped without me. You know to yourself that I loved you more than anything. I wanted to keep you safe. That's why I didn’t hesitate to point my gun to Ada when I found out her secret. But you doubted me, Leon. You doubted my love and devotion to you.” 

             Leon listened to your cries that you have been keeping for months. Among the two of you, you are the most affected one. That's why you got into this point. It was all because of him that’s why you became this way. 

“I gave you my four years. Even though I was just a teenager, I do know that I love you with all of my heart. I loved you for four years, Leon. And in those four years, it’s just that one time I got tired. Tired of seeing you being with Ada. I was tired of pretending that your flirtings are fine with me to not be called paranoid and delusional. It’s just that one time I asked myself if I still can fight. It’s just that one time, in the many times I could have given up, but I didn’t. One time I had the courage to tell you how I felt. That I was hurt and even losing myself. I needed you to fight for us that night. Because I was so tired of fighting alone. To fight, that even if I tell you to leave, you wouldn’t leave. That even if I pushed you away, you’d go back to me and embrace me in your arms. Because you know me. I just said that because I was tired but I love you, Leon! I still love you!” 

“I’ve been longing to come back and apologize to you,” Leon replied. “Even now that I am working under the President’s order to keep an eye on you, I still don’t have the courage to tell you how sorry I am. Before the government wiped out Raccoon City, I planned to come back and look for you with hopes that I will see you again. But I was too late to find out that the government had finalized the plan. They already dropped a deadly bomb before I knew it.”

“That’s why when Ashley mentioned you to me when I was saving her in Spain, I felt encouraged and relieved to hear that you survived. I waited a lot of years to find the perfect time to face you. And this job as your bodyguard is my only way. I still love you, Y/n. I truly do.” 

“But that one time I told you how I felt, you chose to leave. Is that how you love, Leon? How could you not find a reason to stay?” 

          ��  Leon was stunned at your statement. It was supposed to be a calming afternoon for both of them and watch the sunset beyond the horizon as well as look into the city lights of the beautiful city. But it turned out it wasn’t. Leon did really hurt you and he blames himself for that. 

“My engagement with David will be announced in public in the next two weeks. After that announcement, I want you gone. It’s either you will resign yourself or I will fire you.

           Leon scoffed at your statement. “You’re firing me because you don’t want me to work under you anymore or you're firing me because you know you couldn’t bear to be with another man without me occupying your mind?” He had caught you in the act. 

“Admit it or not, I know you don’t want to marry the Senator’s son. You don’t want to marry him, do you? I told you already last night. Don’t make things complicated for us.” He added, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“For the sake of my power and glory, why not?” 

“Oh, yeah?” Leon smirked before saying. “Then, look me in the eye and say that you want to marry him.” He challenged you. You tried but ended up looking away after a few seconds. 

        The man smirked and suddenly wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to him, leaving no spaces between you. Your breasts are pressed against his toned chest and you can feel his abs against you behind his dress shirt. Your faces are so close to each other that in one move, you two will end up kissing. 

          Leon stared deeply into your eyes and whispered. “You can’t because you still love me.” It was true. No matter how much you denied it, it was so goddamned true and you hate it. 

“I hate you so much.” You whispered. He giggled at your comment and replied…

“Oh, and I love you too…” 

           Then, he kissed so passionately. He kissed you like his life depended on it. He finally had the chance to pull you close to him and kiss you again as he craved this for a long time. That kiss you shared last night isn’t enough. You know and understand it the way he deeply kisses you. He pulled away and started kissing your jawline and neck, inhaling the vanilla scent he loves. 

“You have no idea how much I longed to kiss you like this. I want to push you against the wall and kiss you so badly when I am close to you.”  He whispered and kissed your cheek. 

             You hold onto his shoulder as you breathe. Leon lifted you up in his arms and sat you on top of the car and there he continued to kiss you, setting himself between your legs. You felt his hand caressing your thigh while his other hand was at the back of your head. But what surprises you is that he is not even touching you further. You are wearing nothing but panties underneath your skirt but Leon isn’t trying to do something else. He doesn’t look like he’s asking for permission from you. 

“My darling, do you think I am going to take your precious possession? Of course, not yet.” He smirked, regarding your virginity.

“You are really my stalker. You even know if I am still a virgin or not.” You scoffed. 

“I’ll accept that as a compliment.” He replied, rubbing his nose against you and pecking your lips. “If you think that little strip show you did last night will make me do bad things to you, you’re definitely wrong. It turns me on, yes. But I know what kind of a seductress you are and I didn’t fall into your trap.” 

You were stunned that he knows that you intentionally put on a show for him. But you cleared your throat and denied his claim by replying with a witty response.

“Oh, Leon. Even without using my seducing skills, I can make anyone fall into my trap. That’s why I always win my cases in the court and complete my missions successfully.” 

“Then, there is me, the only survivor of your venom.” 

“Shut up. I’m still angry at you,” You rolled your eyes on him and pushed him off you. You stood up and about to leave but Leon held your gloved hand. 

             You hissed and looked at him. Leon looked directly into your eyes. He doesn’t want you to leave. Your body moved on its own as Leon pulled you to him again and sat down on top of the car again. He pulled down your coat and tossed it away, exposing your bare shoulders and collarbones. Soft kisses were pressed against your shoulder and neck, making you close your eyes and tilt your head to the side as his arms wrapped around you. His hands held your hands, interwinding your fingers together. 

“Take them off,” He demanded, referring to your gloves. You hummed in response. “You heard me. Take them off.” He repeated. 

              Still, you didn’t move. Leon sighed before slowly taking off your gloves with such gentle and care. You didn’t stop him or remorse from removing your gloves. Once your gloves are removed, he looks at your scars. It made him even more guilty, knowing that it was him who gave these to you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have left you that night. I shouldn’t have kissed her behind your back.” He whispered, kissing forehead as his thumb rubs against your scar gently. 

“Let me love you again, Y/n. Please, let’s be forever together. I want to make it up to you. Fifteen years of waiting is too much for me to waste this opportunity.” 

               You looked him in the eyes. You cupped his cheeks, caressing him with your thumb. He hummed in satisfaction, feeling your soothing touch. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. Your thumb grazes his lower lip. 

“You know that we can’t, right? It is a rule that an employer must never love her employee. I am especially bound to marry David Carter.” You replied to him which made him scoff at your excuse. 

“You can talk back to your father like a brat but you can’t break his rules? Arranged marriages are bullshit. Your father is definitely pushing all your buttons. And don’t use him as your excuse anymore.” You chuckled at his response.

“Papa doesn’t know that we had a relationship back then. I never even mentioned your name to him. Because if he does, will we be in this kind of situation?” 

“Isn’t this supposed to be the right time to break free from your father’s chains? He wants you to become the First Lady of the country by marrying the son of the Senate President.” 

“We’re not fully okay, Leon. Don’t forget that. I do not forgive anyone who caused me a lot of pain that easily. If you want to be with me, prove yourself that you are worthy of my love and devotion. I have trust issues because of you.” 

          Leon scoffed and pecked your lips. “Is that so? I think I can overcome that.” 

“Hmm? How so?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s a secret. I have my ways to make you give in to me especially when I know that you still love me.” He chuckled, brought your scarred wrist to his lips and kissed them. “Don’t be insecure of your scars anymore. I love them even though I am the one who caused it.” 

“Don’t deny yourself to me, baby. A prosecutor must never lie.” 

“Don’t you dare bring up my profession here. And I am not insecure of my scar. I just don’t like showing it to people.” You warned and he giggled before pulling you into another kiss. 

“Of course. This is about you and me. Can you stay here tonight? I promise, no one would know. I can make excuses to your guards.” 

“Even if I say no, I am sure you will insist.” You rolled your eyes.

 —

To Be Continued...

[sjsmith56]

Reprieve - A Private Man, Chapter 13

Summary: Ross and his associates make another attempt to take Bucky but Rebecca’s phone call pays off as he is stopped. The resurrection of the Avengers is brought up but Bucky’s reaction confuses everyone.

Length: 4.2 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Rebecca, Thaddeus Ross, Rhodey, Sam, Joaquin, Janice.

Warnings: Thaddeus Ross, Bucky’s self doubt.

Author’s notes: I know that you’re thinking “Again? Ross is trying again?” The man is persistent and single minded. This isn’t the end but he does back off for a while. I originally wrote this story before the Thunderbolts announcement came out with the news that Thaddeus Ross would be President in the next Captain America movie. I had a choice to change my story to fit that announcement or to continue with my plot and story line. I chose the latter. Thaddeus Ross will never be President in this story.

<<Chapter 12

Bucky wasn't sure if he should go to work the next day, being unwilling to leave the women without protection but Rebecca, who was sitting in the kitchen when he got up told him that the police were just a phone call away, as were Matt and Foggy. With several of the neighbours around as well she convinced Bucky that it would be alright. Reluctantly he went to work as soon as Samira arrived. It never even occurred to him until he was en route to work that Rebecca got up unassisted by herself. When he arrived at the dock he clocked in and went to the office he shared with the other supervisors. His boss, Rick, was in there.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked. "Saw that shit go down on TV yesterday. What's that Ross's complaint with you?"

Bucky scowled and let out a breath. "He wants me to be an assassin again. He's starting up a black ops version of the Avengers and wants me in it. I won't do it and he's threatened me, my sister and my girlfriend over it."

"Jesus, Bucky," he said, looking past him at all the others. "You need a lawyer or something?"

"No, I have a good one but thanks," said Bucky. "I just want to do my job, and get through the day." He looked at everyone. "I appreciate the concern but really, I just want to do my job."

"Okay," said Rick, with understanding. "You're a good man and I don't want you to think we don't appreciate you. We'll back you up if you need it. But today, it's work as usual."

He used the opportunity to go over the ships still in dock, waiting for loading to be completed, and ships that were expected to dock that day. After he left, Bucky and the other supervisors went over the assignments then broke to meet up with their crews. When lunch time came he stayed at his desk after one of the other supervisors agreed to bring back some lunch for him. For a time he looked at his phone then finally dialled Tracey. She answered on the third ring.

"Hi," he said. "How's it going? Has Ross or Fontaine showed up at the house?"

"No, but Mom and I had to go to court for the protection order," she replied. "It's been granted and a police car will escort Mom and me at any moment to go to the house. I arranged for a truck rental. Amina's husband and brother-in- law will meet us there with it and help Mom take out what she wants. We'll put everything into a storage locker until she gets herself settled. How are you?"

"I didn't want to leave but Rebecca got up early and told me to go to work," he said. "She got up by herself. I didn't even think of that until I was on my way here. She can be very persuasive. I just have a feeling that Ross is going to try again and it's going to be hard not to react to it."

"I know, I feel the same," replied Tracey. "Hey, I have to go. The police are here. I'll see you later. It'll be alright, Bucky. I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied.

He ate his lunch while doing paperwork then headed back out to the dock to make sure that everything was going the way it should. All throughout the afternoon he couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehensive anticipation that something was going to happen and he just hoped it wouldn't be where people would be put into danger. When quitting time came around he clocked out and began the walk to the house. He wasn't aware of being followed or monitored but he still couldn't shake the sense that something was going to happen.

When he arrived back home there was a window repair truck parked in front of the house. Bucky went into the side yard and saw a man fixing the window.

"Hi, are you Tom's son's friend?" he asked.

The man looked at him, puzzled. "No, I don't know who Tom is," he said, then he pulled a work order out of his back pocket. "I received a pre-paid work order to fix a basement window for a James Barnes. Your wife showed me the window. Someone tried to break in? They did a real number on the frame but I'll have it finished in about 10 minutes. When it's done I'll knock on the door and you can sign off on it."

Confused, Bucky went into the house where Tracey, Rebecca, and Janice were all sitting in the living room.

"Who sent the window repair guy?" he asked. Tracey shrugged but Rebecca and Janice smiled at each other. "What are you two grinning about?"

"It's a surprise," said Rebecca. "I phoned someone in the government yesterday, and made an official complaint about Thaddeus Ross and Val de Fontaine. They said they would look into it. The repairman showed up about an hour ago."

"Rebecca, who did you phone?" asked Bucky, feeling uneasy.

"I'll tell you soon," she said. "Don't worry, we're not in trouble."

The repairman knocked on the door and both Bucky and Tracey went out to look at the replaced window. He offered the work order for Bucky to sign off and packed up his toolkit, leaving the yard. As the couple prepared to go back inside there was the sound of a commotion from the front yard. Frowning at Tracey, Bucky walked along the side of the house to the front. Ross was back with several of his men. A number of the neighbours were standing in a line blocking him from entering the yard. Tracey phoned the police while Bucky approached the group.

"Already breaking the injunction?" asked Bucky. "For a man with your standing you sure do like to play loose with the law. Your guys wrecked lights I had strung up in the back yard so I guess vandalism isn't beyond you either."

"The injunction is already quashed," said Ross. "I'm here on official government business."

"Official government business for a black ops operation?" replied Bucky. "I doubt that very much."

"Doesn't matter, Barnes," retorted Ross. "This time you're coming with me."

There was the sound of several flying suits approaching and Bucky looked up to see Sam, Joaquin Torres and Colonel Rhodes descending from above. They landed just behind Bucky where Rhodes opened his face plate and strode forward, putting himself between Bucky and Ross.

"Sorry Thaddeus," he said. "I have my orders from the President himself. Your little act yesterday has put him in a very bad light. The media are all over how you're forcing a man into being a killer against his will. An official complaint over your behaviour and a threat made by Val de Fontaine has the President ordering you to stand down immediately and await the FBI to escort you to Washington."

Ross smirked. "I'm supposed to believe that?" he said. "That's rich coming from a retired paraplegic Air Force Colonel."

"No longer retired, and you've been relieved of any sort of legitimacy that you talked the President into granting you," replied Rhodes. "Fontaine is on very thin ice and so is the current Secretary of State for coming up with this plan. The FBI are on their way to take you into custody."

Right on cue several large black SUVs drove onto the street, followed by another news crew. The agent who took Bucky into custody previously stepped out of a vehicle and directed the other agents to take Ross's men then he approached the older man and showed him his badge.

"Agent Michael Quade. Mr. Ross, you are to come with me," he said solemnly. "The President has ordered that you be taken into custody, pending charges."

"What charges?" demanded Ross. "I haven't done anything."

The agent sighed. "I'm only following orders, sir," he said. "I think what charges are filed depends on your actions now and in the near future. I will personally escort you to Washington for a meeting with the President to explain your actions." He turned to Bucky. "Has Mr. Ross and his associates injured you, your family, or your property?"

"They broke a window and the frame plus they cut the wires of lights I had strung up in the trees in the back yard," replied Bucky. "He also threatened to get my sister's health benefits cut off permanently, as well as deny me back pay for the years I was a POW. The window repairman just left but I don't know who sent him."

"They destroyed the lights?" asked Sam, disgusted. "What the hell for?"

The agent put his hand up. "So trespassing, property damage, and a violation of your sister's and your civil rights. Do I have that right, Mr. Barnes?"

"That's correct," said Bucky, looking Ross in the eye. "His associate Val de Fontaine also threatened my girlfriend's mother yesterday. Ross also threatened to take my house. He was just arrested yesterday for some of those actions and he's already back. Isn't that harassment?"

"Yes sir, it is," said the FBI agent, who shook his head. "I think the federal prosecutor might also consider your original arrest as harassment or perhaps the swearing out of false charges but that will be up to him. I will make a note of Ms. Fontaine's threats as she is a known associate. From where I stand Mr. Ross, you are just digging a deeper hole for yourself by refusing to come with me."

Ross sneered. "This isn't over Barnes," he said. "I will have you on my team and you will do as I order."

"No, I won't," replied Bucky. "Now go with the nice FBI agent."

The older man turned around angrily and went with the Agent Quade to the cheers and jeers of Bucky's neighbours. The reporter came up to Bucky again.

"Busy couple of days," he said. "What would you like to say?"

Looking with affection at Sam, Joaquin and Rhodes, then at his neighbours he cleared his throat. "I say thanks to my friends here and my neighbours for having my back. We should have a barbecue to celebrate."

With another cheer several of the neighbours went to get food and beer while Bucky went into the house followed by Rhodes, Sam and Joaquin, who all shed their suits inside. Bucky introduced everyone to the others who hadn't yet met. Joaquin gave Rebecca a hug and a kiss as it had been a while since they last saw each other.

"So how did you know what was happening?" asked Bucky. "I mean, Colonel you're in Washington, Sam was supposed to be in New Orleans and I don't know where you were Joaquin. How did you get here so soon after Ross was released?"

"That business yesterday ended up live on Washington TV and the President watched it," said Rhodes. "He was then phoned by a certain senior citizen who impressed upon him the potential miscarriage of justice that was certain to happen under his watch. He was horrified at Ross for trying to force you onto his team, and trying to force you to kill again. He called Fontaine to ask what gave her the right to threaten the mother of your girlfriend. She gave up the Secretary of State when she admitted they both gave Ross the green light to get you any way he could. I told him about the Wakanda plan that your lawyer phoned me about, and he hit the roof that they would even consider violating the sovereignty of a country considered an ally. Told me to come here and intervene. We phoned the police station, found out they made bail earlier and it didn't take much to figure out he would try again. Ross never did know when to stand down. I called Cap and Falcon, Wong gave us each a portal and we met up over Manhattan." He looked at Rebecca with a smile. "You're trouble, in a good way. How did you ever get them to connect you with the President?"

"I just told the truth," said Rebecca. "Told them who I was and that I wasn't going to sit back and watch Ross force my brother into being a killer against his will. I said the President was the one who pardoned him and that made him responsible for cleaning up this mess."

Rhodes looked with admiration at the older woman. "You did good. He wasn't aware of a lot of what they were up to. I brought up about Buck's pardon being conditional and how Ross was manipulating it to present Buck as still violent. It's being updated to a full pardon. No one and nothing can change that ever."

Bucky looked at his younger sister with disbelief. "You phoned the President?"

She and Janice laughed. "You were so upset yesterday when you saw they had vandalized the lights that I had to try something. I looked up the phone number of the White House and I wouldn't take no for an answer. They finally put me through to the President and I told him everything that happened. He wasn't very happy about what Ross and Fontaine had done and promised he would take care of things."

The doorbell rang with the first of the neighbours to bring food and Bucky went with him to the back yard to start up the barbecue. Within an hour the back yard was full of people from the neighbourhood, eating, drinking, and getting to know everyone else. When a delivery man showed up with new fairy lights courtesy of the President several neighbours got up to help replace the damaged ones. The lights came on as it got darker which drew admiring looks from the neighbours who talked about doing it in their own yards. Gradually as the night went on people began to leave promising to be better neighbours to Bucky, Tracey, and Rebecca. They shook hands with everyone before they left. Finally, it was just them, Janice, Rhodes, Sam, and Joaquin.

"Is there a hotel nearby?" asked Rhodes. "I don't fancy flying in the dark after what I've had to drink."

"I have a couch in the living room and a couch in the basement," said Bucky. "Janice is using the bed. They're yours if you're all okay with one of you sleeping on the floor. I'll make everyone breakfast in the morning."

"Janice can sleep with me if she doesn't mind sharing a bed with an old woman," piped up Rebecca. "I don't snore."

"Yeah, I'm good with that," replied Janice. "We can just switch out the sheets on the bed."

"I call shotgun on the bed, then," said Rhodes, with a grin.

Bucky carried Rebecca into her bedroom then left her in the care of Tracey while he got bedding and pillows for the two couches while Janice made up the bed downstairs. He could hear her and Rhodes talking and laughing as they made the bed together. There was definitely some flirting going on. She came upstairs with her night clothes and a change of clothes for the following day.

"What a nice man Rhodey is," she said, looking vibrant. "He must be a good friend to you, Bucky. He thinks very highly of you."

"He is a good man," replied Bucky. "He's been very supportive the last few months."

After kissing Rebecca good night he and Tracey left Janice in her bedroom and went out to the living room where Sam was wearing a pair of Bucky's sweat pants and a T-shirt.

"Quite the day," said his partner. "You have good neighbours. I saw several of them talking with the news crew and they all said your presence in the neighbourhood makes them feel safer, especially since that robbery."

Bucky smirked. "Only took a year to get to know them," he replied. "I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for Tracey and Rebecca. They make me a better man."

"You're one of the good ones," stated Tracey, grasping his hand. "I knew that as soon as I met you. Sam, thanks for coming with the others to back him up. It means a lot."

"Anytime," smiled Sam. "Now, if you don't mind I'm going to stretch out on my luxurious 4 star couch and catch some shuteye."

After saying goodnight to him they went to their room and cuddled together. Both were tired after the stress and then long evening entertaining. Just before he fell asleep Bucky thought of something that Rhodes said, that he wasn't retired anymore. Whatever did he mean by that?

The following morning Bucky was up at his usual time. After heading out to the mailbox and noticing no discarded cigarette butts he returned into the house and started the coffee. Sam woke up shortly after and Bucky offered him a cup. They both sipped from their coffee then Bucky looked at Sam.

"What did Rhodes mean that he isn't retired any more?" he asked.

"Did he? I didn't notice. Maybe he's been named to be an advisor to the President or something. Come to think of it he seemed to really enjoy what happened to Ross yesterday."

As the others started getting up Bucky phoned the docks to say he would be in later. The dock manager, Rick, was already in and told Bucky he watched the previous day's events on the news. Whatever time Bucky needed to do what he needed to do was fine with him, his exact words. With thanks Bucky hung up and began making breakfast for everyone. When everything was ready he put the food out on the kitchen counter and everyone helped themselves before sitting at the dining room table. For several minutes there was no talking then Bucky finished chewing and looked at Rhodes.

"What did you mean that you're not retired anymore?" he asked.

"Yeah, what's with that?" asked Sam. "They giving you a position on the Joint Chiefs or something?"

"No, the President put me in command of something else." Rhodey paused, smiling. "He wants me to head up resurrecting the Avengers, pending amendments to the Sokovia Accords. I told him I wouldn't consider it unless the Accords are fixed. Ross deliberately made them too restrictive to allow the Avengers to do the job properly. It looks like he wanted them to fold years ago so he could get control of us as his assets. We'll talk more but there's a place for all three of you, if you want it."

"I can't," said Bucky, quickly and quietly. "My place is here, with Rebecca and Tracey."

"Nonsense," said Rebecca. "I'm much better and I have the personal care aides. With Tracey living here we can make it work."

"But you need to have someone here at night with you," replied Bucky. "I can't ask Tracey to assume that responsibility if I'm not here. It wouldn't be fair to her."

Tracey started to speak and Bucky abruptly left the table, heading out to the back yard. Rhodes looked distressed.

"Listen, it's all in a preliminary stage of planning," he said. "It would be months before we even made anything official and that's only if the Accords are modified. I thought he would be happy about this."

"It's what he once wanted," said Tracey, quietly, watching the back door. "But he accepted that it wasn't going to happen and when Rebecca had her stroke it made the decision to stay and work a regular job easier for him. I think he likes living a private life now. He feels normal, likes his job, he has good benefits with it, and he's part of the community with his volunteer work at the newcomer centre. Now, it's like you're asking him to give that up for a job that would be irregular at best. It would take him away from Rebecca."

"And you," said Joaquin, deliberately. "He's very much in love with you. Even I can see it."

"I wouldn't hold him back," protested Tracey, then she looked again at the back door and stood up.

Putting her jacket on and taking Bucky's with her she went out to the back yard. Bucky was sitting on one of the chairs under the pergola. She approached him in the crisp morning air, putting his jacket over his shoulders. He took one of her hands and kissed it then sat back. Tracey sat on his lap.

"You wouldn't have to ask," she said softly. "I've already committed to you and Rebecca is part of that commitment by my choice. Rhodes said it would be months before they got anything off the ground."

"I know," replied Bucky. "I just don't know if I want to do it anymore. I like working at the docks. I like living in this house with you and Rebecca. I like my life here. It's normal."

"That's important to you," she replied. "I get that. Do you remember when we first met? I asked you about the Avengers, why they weren't together. You said the decision about them was someone else's responsibility. You admitted you were good at doing what the Avengers do but that was as far as you would go, as if you had reservations about doing that. Rebecca thought being an Avenger would give you a higher purpose."

Bucky smirked lightly. "Fighting the Flag Smashers came easily enough. I tried to tell Karli, the young woman who was their leader, that she was going down a dark path but she wouldn't listen to me, even though I had been on that same path. What kind of Avenger would I be if people didn't take me seriously enough to learn from my experiences? I was the Winter Soldier, a killer who always got his target. Maybe that's how they'll always see me. That's how Ross and Fontaine still see me."

She drew his head into her chest, feeling his gloom. "I think if you became an Avenger you would have more control over how you're seen," she said. "What was it the Wakandans called you? White Wolf? You could make that your code name. On your downtime you could still live here, maybe even continue to work at the docks, definitely volunteer at the newcomer centre. Imagine the kids there, seeing you walk in, knowing that you had helped rescue hostages, or helped take down a terrorist group. You could be their local hero, even more than you already are."

"What about us?" he asked. "You wouldn't want a part-time boyfriend, or husband. Not after how your ex treated you when he went on the road."

"You're not Geoff," stated Tracey emphatically. "You're so much more. Yes, I would miss you but I trust you and think our reunions would be incredible. I have my job and it fulfills me. Don't make me the reason you decide not to do this. Be involved in the planning and see what the government is willing to do. If it's better than what the docks give you then seriously consider it. If it's not, then continue to live a normal life, just like all the rest of us."

Her hands had been stroking his back and shoulders while she was talking and she could feel his demeanour change from very tense to more relaxed. When she finished her piece Bucky sighed then wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You're very persuasive Nurse Harris," he murmured. "I'll consider it, put my two cents worth in and see where it goes from there. Regardless of how it goes with the Avengers there's something that I want to ask you."

"What's that?"

"Would you marry me?

He looked up at her, his blue eyes fixed on hers. She looked upon his upturned face, at his strong jaw and cheekbones, his ever present five o'clock shadow, and his soft lips which were slightly parted as he waited on her answer.

"Yes, in a New York minute I would marry you," she answered.

Forever more she would remember his soft loving look at hearing her answer. It would always be recalled by her as the moment she completely committed to the first man she ever truly loved. Bucky would always remember the sun lighting up her hair and the beautiful smile she had on her face when she said those words. It was the day he finally and completely felt like a good man.

Chapter 14>>

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[alliluyevas]

book recommendations on mormon history?

oooh worm. very excited. I'm going to focus for now on what I would consider the best introduction books to Mormon history (of the ones I have read).

the number one book I would recommend for people who know little to nothing about Mormon history is American Zion: A New History of Mormonism by Benjamin Park. I think it is an excellent new entry to help fit a much-needed niche of "overview broad-brushstrokes history of Mormonism that is not written from an explicitly faithful perspective." (The author is LDS, but it's definitely written to appeal to secular audiences in a way that the other existing overview books which are mostly church-produced are not.) It goes from Joseph Smith all the way up until Mitt Romney, essentially.

If you want something that goes a little bit deeper and doesn't cover quite as much time, I actually would also recommend Dr. Park's other book, Kingdom of Nauvoo, which covers the period of Mormon settlement in Illinois from 1838-1846, including the advent of polygamy and Joseph Smith's assassination. The Nauvoo era is really interesting and arguably the most crucial period in very early (pre-Utah) Mormonism.

For a narrower focus within the Nauvoo era, American Crucifixion: The Murder of Joseph Smith and the Fate of the Mormon Church is also pretty good and is a very accessible read. Joseph Smith for President: The Prophet, The Assassins, and the Fight for American Religious Freedom covers a lot of the same ground. I would still recommend these books for Mormon history "beginners" because Joseph Smith's life and death is so pivotal.

In terms of reading more about Joseph Smith, I would recommend Fawn Brodie's biography No Man Knows My History, with some caveats. I think this is a beautifully written book and a lot of the scholarship does hold up, but a) it was written in the 1940s b) it was written by someone who was in the process of leaving Mormonism and definitely takes the position pretty stridently that He Made It All Up and it's controversial within Mormon history as a field because of that. There have been other biographies of JS written since Brodie: Dan Vogel's is good but extremely dense, and Richard Bushman's I have not read so I don't feel like I can recommend it. (Side note: I think it is very difficult to write biography about Joseph Smith because the question of whether or not the author believes he was a prophet and the subsequent question of whether or not the author believes he believed he was a prophet is really omnipresent. I don't think you can really evaluate his life and work without also evaluating the truth claims of Mormonism as a religion in a way that is not quite as true for subsequent church leaders.)

Speaking of subsequent church leaders, I would really strongly recommend Brigham Young: Pioneer Prophet by my former professor John Turner, who is really getting gassed up on this blog today, lol. Great bio of the man who shaped Mormonism more than anyone except Joseph Smith (and, arguably, just as much as Joseph Smith.) I actually think this would work fantastically as an overview too because Brigham Young joined the church very early so you basically get a front row seat from origins well into the Utah period.

I wish I had more intro recs about the Utah period or about Mormon women's history/polygamy, but a lot of what I've read on that is either really niche in focus or really dense, so I'm not sure it is a great place to start. That being said, if you want a female perspective on early Mormonism, you should read Mormon Enigma: Emma Hale Smith which is a biography of Joseph Smith's legal wife. It's a great book and was a really ground-breaking classic in Mormon history that imo totally changed the mainstream LDS narrative about Emma.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

hey i’m looking for a fanfic where kurt is the son of the president (or other authority figure), and there’s an assassination attempt against him, and him and blaine are placed under witness protection in a safe house? they’re enemies but they bond while in the safe house. it was unfortunately unfinished as well. thank you!

We don't know the one you are looking for - maybe fandom can help? We can only suggest checking our political!Klaine tag or Bodyguard!Blaine or check these? ~Jen

Playing With Fire by a-simple-rainbow

Blaine’s father is running for President of the USA. Kurt is a newly transferred student at Dalton Academy. Kurt’s father is also running for President. Blaine’s choice of doing what he wants or what’s right for his father’s career has just gotten a tad more complicated. “It’s their race, not ours. This shouldn’t matter to us. I don’t want it to.”

[EPUB]  [PDF]

~~~~~

From the Love to the Lightning by knittycat99

Kurt and Blaine are the sons of rival Presidential candidates. There are many complicated layers to their lives, but when they meet and fall in love on the campaign trail things get even harder.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

i tried to analyse what's the reason of this coordinated attack both in UK ITV interview and US People exclusive. here's some suspects (some usual but there's the unusual too) by u/LocksmithFar9486

i tried to analyse what's the reason of this coordinated attack both in UK ITV interview, and US People exclusive. here's some suspects (some usual, but there's the unusual too) He run out money. his bank is empty.so by talking to itv and people, yes he get money from them, but also this is his last attempt using his last bite of money (joe the bodyguard would never talk on record to people if he doesn't get money for it). if charles doesn't help him with money now, he has nothing left.He anticipated trump winningi said it before here about this, but you guys said that there would be no different because even when he flied to us in 2020, the president was trump. but here's what i think might be different now. yes trump didn't do anything, and maybe won't do anything in the future. but he wouldn't give henry anything ge got from biden administration for this last 4 years either. on people, henry's bodyguard said UK govt don't to give them anything. but he said nothing about US. maybe he actually get whatever he asks from the US govt. and it might change if with different president. this, on the top of they picked Birmingham instead of DC. why he dismissed the chance to cozying up with president at the IG? because he thinks it's not his preferable candidate who'll win.archie reach school age and he want them to go to school in the ukfor whatever reason, he want this. he want what his brother has: kids who go to school in the uk. wearing british uniform. he's a messy man himself. but i think it's him who dressed his children very british outfit. he want his children to live a privileged life of the monarch's grandchildren, just like him.his relationship with meg is on the edgehe's about to have joe-sophie, olivia-jason cross atlantic custody battle situation. he'll lose his custody battle in the first row if he still doesn't have royal protection in the uk because meg will using it against bringing his children to the uk at all. even worse, he might actually want to kidnap his kids, bring them to the uk, now before meg noticing anything.trump assassination doubling down his paranoiadeep down he know US is far more dangerous than the UK.polo documentary, lake something movie producing, aro, and all of it, nothing is going well.he know it's all falling apart. again, he doesn't have any skills. so this is the only way to keep people talking about them.he knows something about his father's health that we don't knowwhen queen Elizabeth passed, all her inheritance went to charles. so william will get everything too. so henry needs to securing whatever it is, now. he want charles to give him whatever he thinks he should get, now.his idiot ass genuinely believes labour govt will doing his favourwell, he's not the brightest after all.he's just homesick💁🏻‍♀️ if you watch his interaction with meg in netflix, it's just felt so boring. and he didn't have his pals too in montecito. and montecito is basically a dead city for retire. he misses his past life, party, and everything else. maybe he should move to NY where he could play taxi chase everytime he get bored. post link: https://ift.tt/9e0pSGE author: LocksmithFar9486 submitted: August 01, 2024 at 02:16AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[rayclubs]

Mahlzeit,

ok since I´m a firm believer that every merc is a perfect combination of smart and stupid, I feel comfortable saying that everyone is wrong about engineer.

like no he isn´t the only one who would be capacle of realising the benefits of a union. he´s very much unable to see it because he definetely gets too tunnelvisioned as soon as his work is involved and everything not directly linked to his tasks is unnecessary.

Malzheit!

Okay, real, but do you want a TF2 political affiliations post? Because that's how you get a TF2 political affiliations post.

Scout:

The most susceptible to propaganda after maybe Soldier.

Cares about celebrities way too much and therefore is unable to recognize the utmost necessity of taxing the rich.

Probably believes in the American Dream or something.

Would not start a labor union but would join one because while dumb as a baseball, he at least understands that his ma worked really hard to support him and his gajillion brothers growing up, and that's kinda unfair and all that. Or something.

Soldier:

Can be convinced to do anything. Seems to have political affiliations, what with his anti-communist shtick, but really it's just whatever. If you sit him down and explain the actual communist ideas and how what he's actually against is dictatorship, he'll listen to you. Might take some time, but he will.

Would not start a union but would assassinate the president.

Pyro:

Mmmph?

I don't even know. Anarcho-transhumanism.

*lights self on fire and fights the cops*

Engie:

Okay I have THOUGHTS

He is a bit of a utilitarian, I think. What with him solving practical problems and all.

Graduated into the upper middle class and can't see past that because his mind is 99% the digits of Pi and all that.

Hasn't voted once in his life.

Probably actually has some misguided beliefs about labor exploitation due to being American. Like Pauling, has one vacation a year and leaves his phone on in case someone needs to reach him in an urgent work matter.

People bring up his hand as if it were the result of an OSHA violation, but like. No. He did that. He did done cut it off himself. It doesn't count.

Everything he builds is an OSHA violation.

Heavy:

Was a pioneer. You know, that Soviet thing? Kinda like an American boy scout, but with more propaganda. He got better though.

He'd be a bit wary of unions but I think he's educated enough to recognize the difference. It's just a subconscious bias, is all.

He wouldn't start a union because, while educated, he's not diplomatic. Much like Engineer "I'll break you in half" TF2, he's more used to killing the authorities than to legally opposing them.

Also his father was a revolutionary. And died for it. So yeah. Maybe he wouldn't be quite so eager to follow in his footsteps.

Demo:

I actually don't know much about labor unions in Scotland but I think Demo would be a union man.

Like. His father killed the queen for a nickel. I think the man knows enough about oppression and workers' rights to be angry about that.

Explode the rich.

"But Demo, you are rich!" - "Aye..." *killbinds*

Medic:

Already in a union.

Not politically aligned but LOVES shoplifting.

Sniper:

Individualism on main.

Would not start a union because he hasn't talked to a human being in seventeen years.

You ask him if he wants to start a union and he stares into the void for five minutes before quietly asking "...like ants?"

Can't sign up because he can't write. Why do you think he calls his parents instead of writing letters?

Actually scratch that. Can only write upside down.

Spy:

Supports whatever suits his interests.

A corporate until the labor union is strong enough, then switches sides and becomes an avid proletarian.

Also individualism on main and that's why he and Sniper get along.

Nothing like avoiding your best friend.

I don't even know. None of them would start a union actually. Medic would do it for fun. Demo would do it as a dare. Soldier would do it by accident.

[deep-space-netwerk]

Okay so I've seen a few of those advice posts going around about how to make fringe interests and personal projects look good on a resume - y'know, like if you wrote flash-fanfic for a fandom zine, you might say you "Authored short fiction for a published anthology collection", right?

So I still think this is good advice, but. Guys? Please learn from my mistakes. Don't let my sacrifice be in vain. Have any sort of game plan whatsoever for when someone asks you about it in an interview. Just, anything at all.

Because when your potential boss's boss asks to know more about how you were the "President of two student groups focused on interactive gaming and literature", you'll reeeeally wish you had something else in the tank besides awkwardly stumbling out "Oh, haha, umm. That. Well, y-yes, I was the Grandmaster of the Assassins' Guild LARPing club, and the High Priestess of the Campus Crusade for Cthulhu."

[tomorrowusa]

Markos Moulitsas Zúniga is the founder and head of Daily Kos – probably the first major liberal blog.

Soon after the Trump assassination attempt, a number of idiotic conspiracy theories sprang up in some fringe left corners of the internet. Markos editorialized about taking a hard line against such conspiracy theories.

At Daily Kos, that means all of us—staff and community members alike—must share only what we know to be true, as reported by credible sources. It also means that we reject false information or unfounded claims. This is a foundational policy for us, and one we have enforced rigorously for decades. Our Rules of the Road forbid spreading misinformation, disinformation, or conspiracy theories. The penalty for sharing conspiracy theories on Daily Kos is clear and serious: You will be banned. Daily Kos has always been and will always be an outpost of the reality-based community.

Being reality-based is a major thing which distinguishes us from MAGA zombies. People on the left who spread zany and unfounded conspiracy theories are intellectually no better than the QAnon Shaman. Many even use wording similar to QAnon wackos.

The Washington Post referred to fringe left conspiracy theories about the shooting as BlueAnon.

They claimed the blood on former president Donald Trump’s ear was from a theatrical gel pack; that the shooting was a “false flag,” perhaps coordinated by the Secret Service in collaboration with the Trump campaign; that the scene of a bloodied Trump raising his fist under an American flag was “#staged.” “When did the Secret Service start allowing the President under duress to tell them ‘to wait’, then stand up to be seen by the crowd fist-pumping?” one user posted on X. “Can you blame me for thinking this is fake?” The shooting threw into overdrive a phenomenon dubbed “BlueAnon” — a play on the right-wing conspiracy theory QAnon — that refers to liberal conspiracy theories online. As more Americans lose trust in mainstream institutions and turn to partisan commentators and influencers for information, experts say they are seeing a big uptick in the manufacture and spread of BlueAnon conspiracy theories, a sign that the communal warping of reality is spreading well beyond the right. “The good-versus-evil paradigm of QAnon has really taken hold of the anti-Trump movement and you’re seeing two sides that feel like they are fighting a battle between good and evil,” said Mike Rothschild, author of “The Storm Is Upon Us: How QAnon Became a Movement, Cult and Conspiracy Theory of Everything.” “It’s coming from major leftist and liberal ‘resistance’ influencers who believe that Trump is so devious that he’d fake his own assassination attempt in order to help his campaign.”

Anybody posting conspiracy theories is an idiot and should be blocked.

Of course I'm NOT referring to satirical references meant to make a point.

For example: Fanatical pro-gun conspiracy nuts claim that victims of mass shootings are really "crisis actors". So taking a dig at those people by referring to Trump as a crisis actor is a way to make such people eat their words.

In his editorial, Markos re-posted this information sheet from NPR's On the Media program on how to treat breaking news – mass shootings in particular. So I'm re-re-posting it.

#6 is underrated. Local journalists know their own turf and are better able to sort out a situation than those who just helicopter in to cover an event and then leave.

Of course #9 is essential. Get confirmation from reputable sources before reposting something. Don't add to the morass of disinformation.

[golden-kingdom]

Favorite Crime - Chapter 1

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: There will be eventual sexual explicit scenes and there will be violence and blood in most chapters

Author's note: This is my first chaptered fic so please be easy on me. I'll try to update as often as possible, but I can't promise a schedule. I don't have the whole thing planned yet but I know where I'm going.

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

“Terrassen Senator Aedion Ashryver was officially nominated by the Democratic Party as their candidate for President of Erilea in the upcoming election against incumbent President Maeve Valg. Senator Ashryver is the nephew of President Galathynius who, as we all remember sadly, was assassinated by an unknown shooter in 2007. President Galathynius’s wife, Evalin Ashryver, and their 10-year-old daughter, Aelin, were also killed in the event. It remains one of the worst moments in the history of Erilea. In his speech earlier today, Senator Ashryver emphasized the importance of making Erilea a country where everyone feels safe again…”

Celaena took her turquoise eyes off the TV in front of her and downed the rest of her drink. She was looking for the bartender, she needed another drink, when a man sat down next to her and turned to face her.

“Hi beautiful,” he slurred out.

The man was old enough to be her father. His head, almost completely bald, was shining with sweat. He was looking at her with a salacious gaze, his eyes blurry from all the alcohol he had ingested. The man got closer to her and she could smell his breath reeking of cognac. He tried to grope her, and she was ready to tell him to fuck off and hit him in the balls when a strong hand grabbed the man’s arm.

“Leave her alone,” said a deep male voice in a menacing tone.

The creepy man tried to wriggle his arm out of his grip, but the other man wasn’t budging.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he said, trying to sound threatening, but failing.

“I’m her boyfriend. I suggest you leave this bar and never try this again,” the man behind Celaena growled.

The disgusting old man took a step backward, almost tripping on his own feet. He grabbed his jacket and stumbled out of the bar with a frightened look.

Celaena turned to look at the man who had intervened. He was tall, taller than most people, and she could make out the muscles of his body through his fitted white shirt. He was looking with anger in the direction where the man had just left, his features harsh, but when he turned his deep green eyes towards her, his face softened.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“I had this under control. But thank you,” Celaena replied, squinting her eyes at the man in front of her.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself when I saw what was happening. I hate those kinds of men,” he explained, looking genuine.

Celaena nodded in understanding. She took in the man in front of her, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light of the bar. He was looking at her with curiosity in his eyes, like he was trying to figure her out. He cleared his throat.

“I’m Rowan,” he said, extending his hand.

“Lillian,” Celaena replied, looking up at him and shaking his large hand. She gave him a charming smile.

“Nice to meet you, Lillian,” he said, holding her hand a bit too long. He dropped it when he realized.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked her with a small smile. “As an apology,” he quickly added.

“I have to go, so maybe another time,” Celaena said.

She got closer to him, inhaling his scent of pine and snow, and whispered in his ear.

“I’ll see you around, Rowan.”

She flipped her golden blonde hair over her shoulder, knowing his eyes were on her. She left money on the bar for her drink and headed towards the door, looking back at Rowan, who was still sat on the stool at the bar with his gaze on her. She threw him a wink before leaving.

When she was outside, she smiled to herself.

…

When Celaena arrived at her apartment, she noticed a faint light beneath the door. She reached for the gun in her bag and listened for a few seconds. There weren’t any noise coming from inside. She switched the safety off and held her gun ready to fire. She unlocked the door quietly and, in one swift move, entered the place. There was someone sitting in her living room and she was aiming at their head, ready to shoot, when they turned around.

“Hello darling,” a voice she knew too well drawled.

She pulled down her gun, annoyed.

“I told you not to do this, Arobynn,” she said, putting her gun and her bag on the counter and removing her stilettos.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” asked the auburn-haired man in a sarcastic tone.

“Not when you come into my apartment unannounced when I’m not there,” she replied curtly.

“Need I remind you who this apartment belongs to?” Arobynn said, his face passive, but his gray eyes filled with threat.

“I need to shower and go to bed. Did you need anything?” Celaena asked, impatient.

“Can’t I just come and see my favorite assassin for no reason?” he said with a smirk. “Tell me. How was your night, Celaena?”

“Fine,” she said, too tired to play this game.

“I told you to stay away from Whitethorn,” he said, not playing anymore. His eyes were gleaming with rage.

Celaena stopped in her tracks, composing her face, and looked at her boss.

“I just wanted to see what kind of man I’m going against with,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

Arobynn stood up from his seat and walked up to her.

“You disobeyed me,” he said, his voice filled with violence.

Celaena didn’t see the slap coming, but she definitely felt it. She put her hand on her cheek where he had hit her, trying to contain her anger.

“You know what happens when you disobey me,” Arobynn told her. “Don’t do it again.”

Celaena didn’t say a word. She didn’t trust herself not to say something that would put her into more trouble. She gritted her teeth.

“But this isn’t why I’m here…” Arobynn said, his voice going back to normal in an instant. “I have a new target for you.”

Arobynn handed her a folder and she opened it, looking at the details inside thoughtfully.

“It must be done tonight,” he added in a firm tone.

She was about to protest, her bed was calling her, but she remembered who she was dealing with.

“It will be done,” she replied.

“Good,” he simply said before leaving as quietly as he had come in.

Celaena headed to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheek was red and she probably would have a small bruise, but she had dealt with worse. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her anger, and went to her bedroom.

She unlocked the door to her walk-in closet with a magnetic card and walked inside. She strode past her designer clothes and accessories and went straight to the back. She grabbed a black outfit from the rack where dozens of the same dark clothes were hung.

When she was done changing, she turned around and looked at her stack of weapons. The whole wall was covered with guns, daggers and all kind of tools that helped her accomplish her missions. She grabbed her favorite dagger, holstering it around her thigh, and a gun in case anything went wrong. But nothing ever went wrong, she was the best and she knew it. Putting on her hood to hide her face, she went out into the night.

…

His phone started ringing loudly and Rowan woke up, cursing whoever was calling him. He looked at the clock. 5:30 am. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed his phone and replied.

“Yes?”

“It’s Salavaterre. We need you on a crime scene.”

“It couldn’t wait until I got to the office in a few hours?” he complained.

“It’s her,” Lorcan said, and Rowan instantly sat up in his bed, now wide awake.

His boss didn’t need to specify who he was talking about.

“I’m on my way. Text me the address.”

Rowan got dressed quickly, grabbing his gun and his badge. Half an hour later, he was parking next to the address he had been sent. There were police cars all around the building. He showed his badge to a police officer and was let inside. The building he walked into was a luxurious one in the richer part of the town. He passed the empty reception and headed straight to the elevator. When he got to the eight floor, he was met with tons of people milling around. He spotted his boss and walked up to him.

“Follow me,” Lorcan simply said.

They passed under the yellow tape the police had put around the crime scene and stopped next to the body of man in his fifties. He had clearly been dead for a few hours. There was blood on the floor coming from where his throat had been slashed viciously.

“Who is he?” Rowan asked, examining the body.

“Erawan Perrington. He was a big-shot lawyer who tended to associate with the wrong kind of people.”

Rowan looked at the crime scene, taking in the details. There were no signs of fighting, the man probably had been taken by surprise and didn’t have the time to do anything before he was murdered. The slash in his throat was deep and straight, like the person who made it didn’t hesitate even for one second. He didn’t have to ask but he knew there would be no fingerprints or DNA anywhere, and that the lock would have been picked.

Rowan put on his gloves and picked up the small piece of paper next to the body. He knew this sign all too well, The Guild’s signature. He put it back where it had been and left without saying a word.

He got back in his car and drove to the FBI headquarters in Rifthold. When he entered the place, he gave a brief smile to the young man at the security who let him pass. He took the elevator the third floor and headed to his office.

He sat down at his desk, quickly opening the first drawer and picking up a thick file folder with “confidential” written in red capital letters on it. He opened it.

Alias: Celaena Sadorthien

Name: Unknown

Date of birth: Between 1990 and 2005

Sex: Female

Employment: Unknown

Address: Unknown

Affiliation: The Guild (see report TG274576)

Physical description: Unknown

Offense(s):

First degree murder of Archer Finn (see case AF588676)

First degree murder of Bill Chastain (see case BC648753)

First degree murder of Ned Clement (see case NC879479)

First degree murder of Cain King (see case CK7663563)

First degree murder of Grave Brown (see case GB789648)

First degree murder of Kaltain Rompier (see case KR783645)

And the list went on and on…

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose and closed the file. He had been tasked with apprehending Rifthold’s most prominent assassin for six months now. Nobody knew anything about her, it was as if she was a ghost. But Rowan knew all too well how real she was and what she had done. This woman was violent psychopath with no remorse and a taste for blood. She was a threat to this city and to the country. He would find her and put her behind bars, no matter what it took.

…

Mayor Dorian Havilliard approached the podium set up in front of a group of journalists. He cleared his throat and leaned into the mic.

“I am here to address the recent murders that have happened in this city and the rise of criminality,” he started, quickly interrupted by an eager journalist at the front.

“Mr. Havilliard, do we know who is behind the murder of Attorney Perrington?”

Dorian took the time to look at his press assistant to see how much he was allowed to divulge to the public. He turned back to face the journalists.

“While I am not allowed to reveal any name, the FBI has a suspect in their sights. They are working very hard to apprehend this person,” he replied with a reassuring tone.

“Is anyone safe in Rifthold? What are you going to do about it?”

“This why I’m here today. The city is working hand in hand with FBI agents and the RHPD to make Rifthold safe again for everyone. I can guarantee you that it will be handled quickly and that the people who are guilty of those crimes will be arrested soon. You do not have to worry. We have the best people working on this. You can sleep soundly at night knowing our streets are protected,” he replied, giving everyone his best charming smile.

Every journalist started speaking at the same time. Dorian was quickly ushered out of the room. In the next room, councillor Chaol Westfall was waiting for him.

“Do you know if there are any new elements to the murder cases?” the mayor asked him, worry on his face.

“The FBI has a team headed by one of the best, special agent Salvaterre, who is working day and night to arrest the people behind it,” Chaol replied.

“Well, they need to be faster. It has been going on for too long. Everyone is on high alert every day and it won’t be long before citizens start panicking. There needs to be some order restored to this city. President Valg is putting a lot of pressure on me to work this out,” Dorian said with a long sigh.

“Dor, it will be okay. Like you said, we have the best people working on this. It’s not like you can go out there and catch those criminals yourself. You need to let the FBI do his job. And stop worrying so much, you don’t want to look like your father in 10 years,” Chaol said with a mischievous smile.

“Please don’t ever compare me to my father again, Chaol,” Dorian said, disgust in his face.

His friend laughed and patted Dorian on the back.

“Come on. We have a meeting in 15 minutes.”

…

“Wow, I wouldn’t want to be the one who pissed you off,” said Lysandra with a bright laugh, entering the gym in The Guild’s manor. Celaena didn’t live there anymore, but she liked to come to work out in peace.

Celaena gave one last punch to the punching bag she was pounding into and turned towards her friend.

“Who said someone pissed me off?” she asked, taking a sip from her water bottle and wiping the sweat off her forehead.

“The look on your face and the way you are demolishing that poor punching bag,” Lysandra replied, implacable.

Celaena ignored her and started training again. She loved kickboxing, it was her favorite way to clear her mind. And the fact that it kept her body in shape so she could feel sexy in her skin-tight outfits wasn’t a bad thing either.

“What happened to your face?” Lysandra asked suddenly, worry on her beautiful face.

“Nothing,” Celaena replied, kicking with all her strength.

“Did he hit you again?” Lysandra asked, disapproval in her tone.

Celaena didn’t reply, she just kept on offloading her anger on the punching bag. Lysandra knew her too well. And she knew how Arobynn was. Her friend had been on the receiving hand of their boss’ violence before.

“What did you do this time?” the dark-haired woman asked instead.

Celaena finally stopped and sat down on the bench next to her friend. She removed the wraps around her hands, ignoring her bloody knuckles.

“I went to see Whitethorn,” she finally replied. “I wanted to know what kind of man I was up against.”

If Lysandra was shocked by Celaena’s actions, she didn’t let it show.

“And?” her friend said, trying to get her to say more. “How is he?”

“He’s nothing special. Just another cop who thinks he’s better than me,” she simply said, ready to move on to another conversation.

But Lysandra wasn’t having it. She looked at Celaena with a playful smile on her face.

“I wouldn’t say he’s nothing special… I’ve seen pictures of him, that man is definitely something. A filthy cop he is, but he’s hot as hell.”

Celaena snorted at that.

“He’s not my type. I’m not into Government bootlickers who think they are holier than thou,” she deadpanned.

“If you say so…” Lysandra replied mischievously.

Celaena got up, she didn’t need to hear any more of her friend’s insinuations. She grabbed her things quickly, ready to leave.

“Arobynn wants to see you in his office,” Lysandra finally said.

“Alright. I’ll just get cleaned up and change first.”

“Don’t make him wait, you know how much he hates that,” her friend added before leaving.

Yes, she knew exactly how much Arobynn hated to wait. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

...

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[felixravinstills]

hello it’s me again!! i just read your latest fic (obsessed) and it’s got me thinking about Diana and Alma Coin. i was wondering if you had any thoughts or headcanons about them and their relationship that you’d be willing to share?

(the fic mentioned in ask. the fic people should read before that one.)

Hello!!! Always excited to hear from you! Also for everyone who doesn't read my fics, please note that the Diana here refers to my OC, Diana Ravinstill, not Diana Ring (although she is named after her). She's Felix, Artemisia (my other OC), and Festus' daughter, (Biologically she's Felix's and Artemisia, and they're in a throuple with Festus who co-parents her).

I think I mention this briefly in All That You Can Do, but these two definitely connect over grief. Coin loses a daughter and a husband before the events of Mockingjay and her life's probably been defined by all the limitations of living underground to escape the Capitol while Diana's life is also just equally defined by things and people she's lost.

They're both weirdly comfortable with how unsure they are of each other's genuine feelings/attraction to the other. There's always this element of Diana being a major source of the funds for the Rebellion while Coin is obviously Thirteen's president and has more political power than Diana. They both need each other to ensure their own power, they're both using each other a little bit, and somehow that gives them comfort. I think it stops them from thinking their relationship is too real or serious.

Going off that point, I imagine Coin is reluctant to see herself in a serious relationship because of having lost her husband and daughter and the pain of that while Diana saw what her parents' deaths had on each of them and entertaining a serious romantic entanglement would mean (to her) that she's liable to be hurt and fall apart in the same way

Of course, Coin dies and in any world except All That You Can Do, Diana's first reaction is 'well, of course, this happens.' I think after all the loss in her life. She'd just think it was the cherry on top of the cake that as soon as she gets the revenge she's spent nearly half a century waiting for, the woman she's been seeing gets assassinated.

Since Diana's personaliy/behavior changes a bit depending on what specifically happens with her parents. Close Your Eyes! Diana imitates more of Festus' old casual and laidback demeanor to hid her hurt, and I think that means that she and Coin are closer to the bickering dynamic of Festus and Felix which these women transform into something almost antagonistic while It's Still You! Diana leans into her more into a genuine personality that engages with issues that Coin might be having so in a funny coincidence the dynamic becomes more Artemisia and Felix.

(The fact that Felix ends up being the Coin parallel is alarming to me, resident Felix enjoyer who occasionally worries that my version of him will stray so far into the morally questionable that only I'll be able to love him... <- part of that could actually be a bad summary for It's Still You)

And also because I apparently love giving characters the hardest dynamic to explain ever (and I've mentioned this in at least one Author's Note), but I can imagine a throuple situation with Diana, Coin and Plutarch could exist, but Diana and Plutarch aren't actually involved with one another, because I headcanon (or is it just canon cuz she's my OC?) that Diana is a lesbian. (Honestly, idk if I'll ever make this in-text canon in one of my fics, but thinking about the absolute mess that this would make Thirteen's government in Mockingjay makes me laugh. Soap opera-level drama happening just outside Katniss' view.)

Okay, this got pretty long lol! I love the random curveball that I had to throw at the end.

This was genuinely a very fun ask to answer, because I don't think many of these details will ever make it to an actual fic (although who knows?)! And surprised and delighted that someone wanted to know more about Diana and Coin's situationship.

[zilabee]

and when I'm down, real sanpaku, and I don't know what to do, aisumasen, aisumasen Yoko san

- Aisumasen (I'm Sorry), by John Lennon

"You," Yoko told him one day after gazing into his eyes, "are sanpaku." And thus began his life-long involvement with the philosophy of macrobiotics. Sanpaku, she explained patiently, was a Japanese term meaning literally 'three whites'. If a person was sanpaku it meant that the irises of their eyes were turned upwards so that white could be seen on three sides. The condition had been recognised for centuries in oriental countries where it was considered to signify poor physical and psychological health - caused primarily by an unwholesome diet. Worse, people who were sanpaku were prone to meet with violent accidents or death. "Look," she had said, showing him photographs. "President Kennedy was not sanpaku in his younger, dynamic years. But shortly before his assassination he became sanpaku. Hitler too was sanpaku before his death." History showed that Julius Caesar, Abraham Lincoln and dozens more had become sanpaku towards the end of their lives. The two of them had together pored over photographs of the Beatles and realise that, though none of them had been sanpaku in their early days, now they all were. John was not surprised.

- All They Needed Was Love, John Blake, 1981

For thousands of years, people of the Far East have been looking into each other's eyes for signs of this dreaded condition. Any sign of sanpaku meant that a man's entire system — physical, physiological and spiritual — was out of balance. He had committed sins against the order of the universe and he was therefore sick, unhappy, insane, what the West has come to call "accident prone". The condition of sanpaku is a warning, a sign from nature, that one's life is threatened by an early and tragic end.

- You Are All Sanpaku, by George Ohsawa, 1963.

Whatever dent the sanpaku concept has made in the Western consciousness is largely the doing of [Japanese author] George Ohsawa. He poached the concept from old Asian diagnostic traditions of facial reading, in which different features were thought to reflect aspects of your physical or spiritual health. In his writings Ohsawa claimed that three-whites was a particularly nasty characteristic, indicative of someone “suspicious, fearful, insecure, quick to misunderstand, and passive.” Furthermore, “his heart, sexual organs, liver, kidney, and lungs are very sick,” and so forth, and the condition can only be treated with a macrobiotic diet.

- Washington City Paper [x]

Oshawa pointed to individuals with sanpaku eyes that ranged from Martin Luther King Jr. to Abraham Lincoln—which, of course, implies that their untimely deaths had nothing to do with radicals upset about, oh, the Civil War or the Civil Rights Movement. [...] while a Japanese writer helped popularize the notion of sanpaku eyes in the West, it doesn't seem to be much of a superstition in Japan—especially compared to other Japanese superstitions, such as people's blood types. [...] If you do have sanpaku eyes, don't take much stock in these superstitions. As with most superstitions, this isn't hard science. It's not even soft science!

- Kotaku East [x]