#but remind me when we decided people nearly 200 years old weren't by some definitions old

[fallloverfic]

So... on the subject of relative age in Delicious in Dungeon and Mithrun and fandom "jokes" I've seen folks complaining about. General manga and anime spoilers for character ages and names in the manga and anime below the read more:

On the one hand, I do get that people are (or at least were, I see it less these days) mad at the "Mithrun grandpa/old man" jokes/comments because "it's just cause he's disabled" and "relatively speaking, he's the same age as Chilchuck, and no one treats Chilchuck like he's an old man/something about how Chilchuck dislikes being treated differently, mentally, for his presumed age/state of mind".

Okay, yes. Relatively speaking, sure. There's a conversation to be had about the intersection of ableism and ageism and how we often baby (in a patronizing way) disabled people and the elderly, and how we prioritize youth and treat middle-aged people like their lives are over. (And maybe something about how he has silver hair, I don't know). On a more positive note, I love that, relatively speaking, possibly by Elvish standards, Mithrun is at/near middle-age (elvish age of maturity is 80 years, their average lifespan is 400 years), because that's a fascinating bit of world-building.

...On the other hand (please rest your pitchforks momentarily), Mithrun is literally 185 years old, he is the fifth oldest cast member for characters whose age we know as of the English release of the Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible (after the Elf Queen, who's 372, the elder Flokes, who are in their 200s, and Milsiril, who's four years older than Mithrun), and he is the oldest member of his group of the Canaries (he's literally 103 years older than his subordinate, Pattadol, and still 39 years older than Cithis, the next oldest Canary after Mithrun). And speaking of Chilchuck, who is, yes, a married father of multiple adult children... and also 29. Mithrun has lived over six times as long as Chilchuck has. (All ages come from Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible; Sissel + the other Golden Country residents don't have listed ages there, though they're at least 1000 years old, and the other elves don't show up). Mithrun was in recovery after the central watchtower dungeon for longer than at least five characters have been alive.

Age chart:

Elf Queen: 372

Tansu Floke: 210

Yarn Floke: 204

Milsiril: 189

Mithrun: 185

Cithis: 149

Otta: 137

Fleki: 130

Lycion: 126

Senshi: 112

Noor: 98

Totan: 95

Pattadol: 82

Gillin: 79

Brigan: 78

Holm: 76

Fionil: 62

Namari: 61

Daya, Invar: 58

Marcille: 50

Maizuru: 41

Chilchuk: 29

Laios, Toshiro, Hien: 26

Rin: 24

Falin, Benichidori: 23

Kabru, Mikbell: 22

Zon: 21

Kaka, Kiki: 20

Kuro, Doni: 18

Izutsumi, Inutade: 17

Leed: 14

Mithrun is older than Senshi, older than Marcille, older than Kabru's entire party, including Holm and Daya, and older than the oldest human we have an established age for, Maizuru (again, the first Adventurer's Bible doesn't list the Golden Country resident ages, and Mithrun is definitely younger than them, but also they're generally minor characters except for Yaad and Delgal). He's older than Senshi's former dwarf comrades were when they died. He's also apparently older than Flamela, the vice commander of the Canaries (she's 170, at least according to the fanwiki, which is possibly going off the Complete Adventurer's Bible).

He is of course younger than Obrin, his older brother, whose age we don't know, but we do know that Mithrun is the younger brother. He is also obviously much younger than the demon.

I also find it interesting that people are jumping to the big assumption that he's middle-aged (relatively) due to... I guess just chopping the average lifespan of elves in half and assuming that's what they think middle-aged is? We know the average lifespan of elves and when they come to maturity. We do not know what elves think of Mithrun's age or what their concept of being middle-aged is, if they have one. He could be considered young by elf standards. He could be considered old. We have no idea.

Thinking about the conversation in Volume 8, Chapter 51: Dumplings 2, it's just about total/average lifespan and how near the characters are to dying by average race age, not middle age.

Chilchuck on p.37: "What's the difference between our actual ages and how old we look?"

Laios: "Well, dwarfs do live two and a half times as long as tall-men."

Chilchuck: "If our actual ages affect our looks, then... ...I'm curious about remaining life. Will we age at the same rate we did before? Or will it match our bodies now?"

They never get an answer for this. We do get rough estimates for what one race's age means to another by comparing Laios' actual age (26) to what Senshi thinks dwarf!Laios is, age-wise (his 60s), and both ages put him near but not at assumed middle-age for the respective race (for tall-men it would be 30, for dwarfs, 100), but otherwise they don't come to many conclusions about anything. They just guess and try to change back before something worse happens. Marcille doesn't even say anything in this conversation about elf culture. She just panics because half-foots live shorter lives.

I would not personally call Mithrun a grandpa and I don't particularly connect with jokes about it. By Elvish standards, and relatively speaking, he is perhaps not, arguably, old. ...But he's no spring chicken, either, despite how strong and fast he is. By the standards of most characters he is interacting with in the story, he is the oldest person in the room, by a substantial margin (heck, the age gap between Mithrun and Cithis is more years than Chilchuck has lived). That doesn't make him a grandpa, either. But I do find people getting mad about folks pointing out this literally 185-year-old being is you know... 185 years old... odd...? Especially when he's around all these by and large substantially younger people (younger people who are adults by and large!!!) for most of the story. Again, there's definitely a conversation to be had about the intersection of ageism and ableism, and how we treat people who are middle-aged as if they're elderly even when they're able-bodied, and about the way other characters in-universe treat him (though the one time I think his age is pointed out, it's about the stuff he knows, not to mock him for it; mostly people treat him badly due to his disabilities (e.g., Fleki with his aiming in chapter 55, Cithis in the Adventurer's Bible), not because of his age)... but it does feel very much like people are ignoring that he is honestly one of the oldest characters in the story, and not by dint of being the oldest youth, but because he's a character who has lived to be nearly 200 years old.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

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