#during some syndication runs

[katherynefromphilly]

There was text beneath this photo in the article but really I didn’t need to read it because yes, these are the reasons.

[argyrocratie]

"How will people get healthcare?

(...)

During the Spanish Civil War, Barcelona’s Medical Syndicate, organized largely by anarchists, managed 18 hospitals (6 of which it had created), 17 sanatoria, 22 clinics, 6 psychiatric establishments, 3 nurseries, and one maternity hospital. Outpatient departments were set up in all the principal localities in Catalunya. Upon receiving a request, the Syndicate sent doctors to places in need. The doctor would have to give good reason for refusing the post, “for it was considered that medicine was at the service of the community, and not the other way round.”[40] Funds for outpatient clinics came from contributions from local municipalities. The anarchist Health Workers’ Union included 8,000 health workers, 1,020 of them doctors, and also 3,206 nurses, 133 dentists, 330 midwives, and 153 herbalists. The Union operated 36 health centers distributed throughout Catalunya to provide healthcare to everyone in the entire region. There was a central syndicate in each of nine zones, and in Barcelona a Control Committee composed of one delegate from each section met once a week to deal with common problems and implement a common plan. Every department was autonomous in its own sphere, but not isolated, as they supported one another. Beyond Catalunya, healthcare was provided for free in agrarian collectives throughout Aragon and the Levant.

Even in the nascent anarchist movement in the US today, anarchists are taking steps to learn about and provide healthcare. In some communities anarchists are learning alternative medicine and providing it for their communities. And at major protests, given the likelihood of police violence, anarchists organize networks of volunteer medics who set up first aid stations and organize roving medics to provide first aid for thousands of demonstrators. These medics, often self-trained, treat injuries from pepper spray, tear gas, clubs, tasers, rubber bullets, police horses, and more, as well as shock and trauma. The Boston Area Liberation Medic Squad (BALM Squad) is an example of a medic group that organizes on a permanent basis. Formed in 2001, they travel to major protests in other cities as well, and hold trainings for emergency first aid. They run a website, share information, and link to other initiatives, such as the Common Ground clinic described below. They are non-hierarchical and use consensus decision-making, as does the Bay Area Radical Health Collective, a similar group on the West Coast.

Between protests, a number of radical feminist groups throughout the US and Canada have formed Women’s Health Collectives, to address the needs of women. Some of these collectives teach female anatomy in empowering, positive ways, showing women how to give themselves gynecological exams, how to experience menstruation comfortably, and how to practice safe methods of birth control. The patriarchal Western medical establishment is generally ignorant of women’s health to the point of being degrading and harmful. An anti-establishment, do-it-yourself approach allows marginalized people to subvert a neglectful system by organizing to meet their own needs.

After Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans, activist street medics joined a former Black Panther in setting up the Common Ground clinic in one of the neediest neighborhoods. They were soon assisted by hundreds of anarchists and other volunteers from across the country, mostly without experience. Funded by donations and run by volunteers, the Common Ground clinic provided treatment to tens of thousands of people.

The failure of the government’s “Emergency Management” experts during the crisis is widely recognized. But Common Ground was so well organized it also out-performed the Red Cross, despite the latter having a great deal more experience and resources.[41] In the process, they popularized the concept of mutual aid and made plain the failure of the government. At the time of this writing Common Ground has 40 full-time organizers and is pursuing health in a much broader sense, also making community gardens and fighting for housing rights so that those evicted by the storm will not be prevented from coming home by the gentrification plans of the government. They have helped gut and rebuild many houses in the poorest neighborhoods, which authorities wanted to bulldoze in order to win more living space for rich white people."

-Peter Gelderloos, "Anarchy Works" (2010)

[bridenore]

HD Being on the run fic recs

Here are a few Harry/Draco recs where Harry and Draco are on the run. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl [69k]

After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail. This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic. Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup.

Crown Witness by @slytherco [70k]

After the war, wizarding society is oppressed by a new kind of plague—an organised crime group calling itself the Family. When Harry Potter goes to interrogate a potential witness, he doesn’t expect to end up on the run again, trying to keep Draco Malfoy alive, while a manhunt follows in their footsteps, adamant on eliminating the one witness that could ruin everything. In which Harry and Draco learn that the way to each other might just have to go through the dingiest hotels in Britain.

Eclipse by Mijan [287k]

"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back.

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]

'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

Oh, Sinnerman by @lou-isfake and @babooshkart [40k]

“I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”   He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood. It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena [128k]

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Harry. Hiding out with Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[ink-n-shadow]

[ GONE BAD ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where you meet mafia!ghost

𝜗𝜚 pairing: mafia!Simon "Ghost" Riley x police officer's daughter!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: alternative universe, mentions of police, tw! for creepy guy, allusion to dark!ghost (only if you squint) 𝜗𝜚 note: new au, new ideas (don't hesitate to send me requests :3)

⤷ ever since you were a little kid, your dad was a member of the police force in manchester. you were a daddy’s girl through and through. hell, you wanted to be just like him when you were little—catching bad guys and keeping people safe. 

⤷ but something shifted when you were a teenager—and suddenly, the daddy’s good little girl was gone. you were sneaking out, partying with friends, skipping school to go smoke cigarettes underneath the crumbling cobblestone bridge by your secondary school. 

⤷ it only got worse once you graduated and enrolled in university. this time, though, you weren’t under your father’s thumb anymore. you were in your flat, with your own roommates, doing whatever you wanted to do. that’s how you found yourself in some dingy new pub that opened up in the city. 

⤷ you had dipped outside of the pub for a quick cigarette, stepping into a dimly lit alleyway and leaning against the cobbled wall to puff away at the tobacco stick. it was almost peaceful—that was until a group of drunken men stumbled by and one of them took a liking to you. 

⤷ “aye, pretty thing. y’look lonely standing there all by yourself. mind if i join you? take a little puff of that cig?”

⤷ you tried to come up with some sort of excuse, eyes frantically searching for a way out—but the alleyway you were in was a dead end. the lit cigarette fell from your trembling hand, rolling across the wet asphalt. you thought you were goner until you heard an exit door from the pub behind you screech open, a hard voice rumbling like a thunder storm. 

⤷ “what the fuck’s goin’ on out here? you botherin’ this girl, eh? at my fuckin’ pub? get the fuck out of here before i bury you underneath the concrete you're standin' on.”

⤷ you caught your breath as the man harassing you scrambled off quickly, turning your head to see who the gravelly voice belonged to. he was a looming figure, dressed in a steam-pressed three piece suit and tie along with shiny leather oxfords. his fingers were covered in tattoos and rings, his neck adorning two thick silver chains. His face, however, was obscured by a black mask with a slick skull face attached to the front. he looked menacing. the gun holstered to his hip didn’t help. 

⤷ “you didn’t have to—”

⤷ “don’t sit there and tell me you would’ve handled it. that fucker would’ve torn you to bits if i hadn’t stepped in, lovie. too prideful to say thank you?”

⤷ having lived in manchester all your life, having listened to your father’s rants about the organized crime running rampant in the streets, you knew exactly who the man in front of you that night was: ghost, the faceless leader of the organized crime syndicate which ran manchester under an iron fist. you should’ve expected him to be here—this was his pub, after all. 

⤷ you couldn't speak, but that was alright. ghost didn't mind—he was used to people keeping queit about him. that's why he felt so comfortable leaning against the wall of the alleyway, balancing a cigarette between his lips and igniting the paper.

⤷ "next time you're at my pub, make sure you stay with a friend. pretty little things like you have a tendency to get snatched up right quick out here. can't guarantee i'll be here to save you next time, lovie."

⤷ but after that night, ghost seemed to always be there to save the day. your car breaks down on the side of the road during rush hour traffic? ghost's suv just so happens to pull up behind you. you get a little too drunk out at his pub one night? ghost has one of his men drive you and your friends home. you know deep down that it's way past just coincidences now—but that added to the thrill of it, to the taboo nature of it all.

⤷ other than that, ghost might as well have been a figment of your imagination. he never gave you a phone number, never told you an address, never really stuck around much after helping you out time after time. he was almost unreal until he came out from the shadows. it took almost an entire year before ghost finally asked you to get drinks with him.

⤷ "c'mon—you gotta say yes. y'know how rare it is for me to ask a girl for drinks? usually, the girls come crawlin' to me. not you, though. that's what i like about you, lovie."

[ofstarsandvibranium]

The Get Back

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Qimir x F!Reader

Summary: Your husband is the leader of one of the biggest crime syndicates in the city. A smaller organization has the audacity to try to hurt you. Well, they come to learn very quickly that no one messes with you or your husband.

Qimir Masterlist

You’re wandering the night market, appearing to be blissfully aware of the two men that have been following you for the past few hours.

You’re accompanied by your friend, Mae, who is secretly your protector during this little mission.

You hook your arm around hers, pulling her in to give the idea of two friends giggling and gossiping, “I’m surprised they haven’t tried anything yet.”

Mae gives her best laugh, subtly looking around. When her “laughter” fades, she pretends to giggle and whisper something amusing, but she replies, “They’re closing in. We should head to the rendezvous point.”

You nod and you both walk arm and arm towards the more secluded and empty area of the night market. While the general public crowd near the food stalls, you and Mae head towards the darker area of the night market.

As soon as people are out of sight, several men appear, surrounding you and Mae.

A significantly large, hairy man steps forward, gun in hand, “Now ladies, I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if you make things difficult.”

You look to Mae and nod, both of you hold your hands up and you say, “Fine. Take us. Just don’t hurt anyone.”

You two are immediately grabbed, wrists zip tied together and blindfolds going over your eyes.

You and Mae don’t fight as you’re practically thrown into the back of a car. Once the car starts moving, you press the tracking button on the bracelet your husband had given you as a wedding gift.

_____________________

“It’s activated,” Osha says, watching the little dot appear on the laptop. She looks over her shoulder to her leader sitting in the back seat. He gives her a nod and Osha immediately demands the driver to follow the dot on the screen.

She then looks back to her boss, “They’ll be okay.”

The corner of her boss’ mouth twitches and he says, “Are you telling me or yourself that?”

“Both? They know what to do if things go south.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his black hair, “I shouldn’t have let her do this.”

“She knew the risks and knows what she’s doing. Have more trust in her.”

His jaw clenches, “I do trust her. It’s them I don’t trust.”

___________________

You didn’t appreciate being manhandled. They grabbed and held you with bruising grips. You bit your tongue to not lash out insults. You had to follow the plan.

You and Mae are lead to some warehouse near the docks. You know from the sound of the water nearby. How original.

You’re forced into a chair, hands still zip tied behind your back. Your blindfold gets pulled and it takes you a few blinks for your vision to correct.

You see an older man, ginger beard and a scar going across his eye. You immediately recognize him and scoff, “Torbin? You’re the mole? Color me surprised.”

The man clenches his jaw, “Didn’t think I’d be able to pull this off, huh? Proved you wrong, didn’t I?”

You roll your eyes, “Please. Kidnapping me to get to my husband? Work of an amateur. And picking a warehouse on the docks? So unoriginal!”

The large man from before slapped you across the face. The sound echoing throughout the warehouse. You do your best to ignore the stinging and glare up at him, “You’re going to regret that.” He scoffs at you, raising his hand to strike you again.

“Don’t, Kelnacca. What did I tell you about damaged goods?”

The man, Kelnacca, lowers his hand and steps away from you.

Mae takes the opportunity to speak up, “So what’s this about? You’re upset that the boss wouldn’t give you more power?”

“I deserved to be his right hand. Not your or your sister! I’ve been in this job much longer and he gives the position to you two!”

You roll your eyes and groan, “So what’s the point you’re trying to make here, Torbin? Kidnap me and demand the position of right hand?”

The man snorts, “No, fuck that. I have bigger plans. You don’t know how many people were ready to betray your husband. Everyone is tired of his control and they wanted a new person, someone that won’t rule for their own selfish reasons.”

Mae rolls her eyes, “And this isn’t selfish?”

“I’ll make sure my people are well equipped and provided. Not the scraps that He’s given us.”

“He provides for those who deserves it. You’ve never deserved, Torbin.”

Torbin immediately pulls out a gun and points it at you. You narrow your eyes at him, “You won’t do it. You need me for negotiations.”

“True, but I don’t need her,” he points the gun at Mae. You look at her and she has no ounce of fear on her face.

“Do it. I dare you, but just know, my sister won’t have mercy on you if you do.” Mae says with confidence. You know she’s right and as does Torbin.

He grits his teeth and lowers his gun. He grips his hair and yells, “FUUUUCK!” The cries echoing throughout the building.

Then a man comes running in, yelling, “They’re here!”

“Finally. Let the show begin,” Torbin rushes to you, pulling you to your feet. He stands behind you, gun pointed to your head.

Your husband’s familiar SUV rolls up and it’s barely parked when he steps out, Osha following behind him.

His presence oozes confidence and intimidation, something that Torbin lacks.

“Evening, Torbin,” he says calmly as one of Torbin’s men pats him down and then to Osha.

“They’re clear.”

Torbin can’t help but laugh, “Got ya now, didn’t I? After all those years, didn’t expect I’d turn on you like this, eh?”

Your husband sighs and shakes his head, “I must say that I’m extremely disappointed in you, Torbin.”

“Disappointed that an old friend got the better of you?”

Your husband shakes his head and then smirks, “Disappointed that you didn’t catch on sooner.”

Torbin looks at your husband confused and you take the opportunity to stomp on his foot and throw your head back with as much force as you can.

The action disorients him and then all hell breaks loose. Mae breaks free and starts throwing around her hidden daggers that she kept in her boots. She takes down the men surrounding her and then rushes to you, cutting the zip ties from your wrists.

Knives and bullets fly as you rush to your husband, “Qi-“

“You’re hurt,” he lightly grazes your swollen cheek. His eyes darken in anger, “I’ll-“

“Don’t,” you look over your shoulder to see Osha, Mae, and several of your husband’s men that posed as double agents, fighting and killing Torbin’s men, “They’ve got it handled.”

“NO!” You hear a yell and both of you look back to see Torbin limping towards you two, nose bloody and gun in hand.

“You can’t have it all!” He yells. He slowly raises the gun and a shot rings out.

Qimir looks at you, his gun in your hand. The barrel smoking from the shot you took.

Torbin collapses onto the ground, a clean shot to the head.

You scowl, “Always thought he was annoying.”

Qimir smirks, kissing your temple and taking the gun from his hand, “Well done, Trouble.” He tucks the gun back in his pants and slips his hand into yours, “Let’s get you cleaned up. The twins can take it from here.”

You follow him back into his SUV, curling into his side after he tells his driver to head back home.

He wraps a protective arm around you, kissing your head again. Against your temple, he murmurs, “Don’t get involved again. I can’t take the anxiety it gives me.”

You give him a playful pout, “Where’s the fun in that?”

He smirks and leaning in, pecking your lips, “Troublemaker.” He then pulls you closer and you two sit in silence for the remainder of the ride.

All in a night’s work.

[antimony-medusa]

on Consequences in minecraft streaming

Okay so one of the real common things that I've been seeing lately is an increasingly passionate call for certain characters to experience Consequences (and the rest of the post always makes it clear that they mean a specific type of definatively negative repercussions) for their actions during QSMP events. And aside from the absolute deja vu of having seen these same calls when DSMP was airing, and how that turned out (sorry, the syndicate did not all have a meeting where they apologized for their sins while tommy told them they were horrible people), I'm not 100% sure if that's going to happen or pan out in the exact way that I think people are aiming for and expecting will happen.

I keep seeing a lot of people saying that it would be bad writing if people don't get "consequences" for their actions, and what they're specifically asking for is punishment and for people to realize what they're doing was wrong. BBH is supposed to repent for furniture thefts and torturing the people keeping him from his kid. Phil is supposed to realize that actually he's good at PVP and apologize for saying that his team has been suffering in purgatory. Tubbo is supposed to fill in his tubhole and only do things other people ask him to do.

But like, so much of the time, what we're seeing is these streamers being interested in writing morally grey characters, just some little guys who make bad decisions, and the thing about characters being morally grey is that they don't always have a come to jesus moment and become morally pure. Sometimes they just keep being morally grey. Sometimes they get worse on purpose.

Maybe BBH never decides that torturing that guy was bad, because he wanted to get his FUCKING KID back. Like, I seriously think you have to be prepared for that character arc to never end in Bad going "that was wrong to do", and maybe his cubito will still be happy. Phil is a dude with anxiety who's been sure that his kids are going to die from the moment he got to purgatory, streaming at 1-4 in the morning while other teams break into their base, even if bolas goes insane and scrapes out a win I think it's way more likely that that team is gonna go "what a wild fluke that's the power of gas masks" and not have a moment where they go "it was unfair of us to assume that we were underpowered, I guess everybody else was the underdogs! Our bad." Tubbo is tubbo, he's already building a new create thing, he is not going to apologize for leaving marks on the landscape with mod packs.

Like, the streamers are interested in making human characters, making interesting decisions, not communicating moral lessons to their fanbases. Bad is operating within a Taken film, not a sermon. Quackity wants his cubito to be pathetic, gay, and out for revenge, not to communicate the importance of forgiveness to those who hurt you. Tubbo's victory condition is having a nice date with Fred, full stop, does not care who he has to run over to get there.

Absolutely I think there are people intentionally doing corruption/villany arcs on the server, and they probably intend for that to lead places. There will be Consequences, as in, things will happen. Cellbit is doing cannibalsm on purpose, and not as a teaching moment about how good cannibalism is for your social bonds. But like, maybe that leads to him being thrown out of his family and not trusted because of his sins, OR maybe it leads to him murdering his way through a federation complex, facing down a bloody cucurucho, and going "you made me into you and I hate this" and eating him. Narrative consequences does not always mean punishment and a return to moral purity. Sometimes people just do bad things, and then repercussions happen, but they don't necessarily "see the error of their ways". The specific call for like— retribution and repentance as the consequences people are going for— for punishment— if a character has done something bad they don't "deserve" good things to happen to them and it's bad writing for that to happen— I just don't think that those are the stories the creators are necessarily interested in telling.

And secondly, what people are often asking for is character conflict— they want people to be socially excluded by characters they feel have been wronged, and learn the error of their ways that way until they apologize sufficiently. Phil is gonna hate BBH or Tubbo is going to hate Roier or something once they return from Purgatory. People want their cubitos to have beef with each other.

But the thing is, on a meta level, I don't doubt that the entire admin team and streaming team on QSMP is just screamingly aware that this fandom cannot be trusted with conflict. The election was just part of it, but I made it through the election, and Purgatory has been so much more unpleasant— and I am not just talking about twitter. This website, tumblr, has been full of people fighting each other for their teams. And I am not just saying "red team fans have been bad", because boy have I been staring in horrified awe at the takes that some red team people have been putting forward (what on EARTH do you mean BBH deserves to have his kid die, touch grass immediately), but if I step outside of red team circles, everyone is talking about how red team people are horrible hypocrites who win too much and only deserve to suffer (I saw this posting the day that blue had back to back wins, so it isn't even tied to how well red is doing). The quality of the discourse has been increasingly unpleasant, and this has been taking place in streamer's chats, on twitter, in discords, and here on tumblr.

Every QSMP streamer is increasingly aware that having conflict with another streamer is basically sending a wave of negativity their way, and setting off bombs in the fandom at the same time. And they're all friends with each other! Sometimes they decide that the story beat they're going for is worth it and just tell each other to stay off twitter, but like, you have got to be prepared that maybe they will just be friends again. And that might be weaker writing, for people to keep forgiving each other, but that is an unfortunate aspect of the technical aspects of this medium and this fandom. Maybe the creators would be more willing to have character conflict if they didn't know that that meant the person they were mad at in-game would get death threats on social media.

Like no fucking wonder Phil apologized for getting mad at Wil within the same stream and before Wil said sorry to him. This is why the French have given up on revolution arcs, you know it's why the women are all very careful to get along with people. All of those creators know the cost of making anyone into a villain, and I'm just saying maybe get prepared that we won't have inner-party conflict. Maybe they'll decide it's worth it for a fun story moment! Maybe they won't. Maybe don't get 100% married to the idea that the only good writing possible moving forward is for people to be thrown out of the community and then repent for their sins.

[isawken]

fun fact. david arquette bought the rights to bozo the clown in 2021.

fun fact 2. he intends to use this power to create some kind of "bozo-verse". a multiverse of clowns

fun fact 3. this actually fits perfectly within the Bozo Mythos and makes as much (if not more) sense as the proliferation of the multiverse in the MCU

(im just including this image because it think the tonal dissonance between the two chosen pictures in that header is fucking hilarious)

so i'm sure most of the people reading this post are zoomers or millenies. and idk about y'all but by the time i came around to human consciousness around 1998 or so, Bozo was part of a long-gone television era, one that belonged to the boomers and Xers before me. i was vaguely aware of him as a residual pop culture entity but never really encountered him myself.

well, as it turns out, there is no true one Bozo.

Bozo the clown was originally created as a character in a children's book in 1946. a voice actor portrayed him in a read-along record to said book and became so popular, Bozo was promoted to Occasional Television Star in 1949. he maintained his popularity and in 1957, the rights to Bozo were sold to a new owner, who decided to syndicate the clown. and this is where the Bozo-verse came in.

because the new owner made Bozo available to lease by smaller local television networks, that meant that dozens of studios across the American continent had their very own Bozo. dozens of Bozos!! from Detroit to Rio de Janeiro to Ontario to Mexico City and several other locations in between, an insane amount of Bozos existed at the same time from the late 1950s to the mid 1970s. and within those dozens of Bozos, some would be portrayed by half a dozen actors during their runs. each were unique, distinguished by their varied performances and variation in costuming. some Bozos lasted longer than the rest- the Brazilian Bozo notably lasted until the early 2010s. but of course, along with the death of the clown as a cultural that started around the 80s, Bozos started falling off the air left and right.

i, Known Clown Appreciator, am genuinely happy that david is wanting to help rehabilitate the clown to a new generation of potential New Clown Appreciators. and i'm not saying he has to, but i am saying i think the world could really use a Spider-Verse style Bozostravaganza of a movie. i think the people are ready and willing to get sillay

[cyncerity]

Hero au time!!

This is an idea i’ve had in my head forever, which is why it’s so fucking long. Hope y’all enjoy!

tw: soft, safe vore

“We know you have him. You’re not leaving here until you either tell us where he is or your friends fess up and tell us for you. And if we find his body before you can admit to anything, we kill you. Simple as that.”

The voice came from behind him, the ornate table in front of him empty and shrouded in shadows. Sapnap shifted uncomfortably in the chair he was tied to, the ropes rubbing uncomfortably against his now bare wrists. He saw his gloves laid on that table in front of him, now replaced with power suppressant cuffs. Great, so whoever took him wasn’t stupid. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’d better let me go this instant. It’s a federal crime to hold a hero hostage.”

“Oh we know, Mr. number 2 hero. But I think you’ll find that we’re wanted for worse.” The voice said before a shadowy figure finally stepped into his line of sight.

The man was fairly average in height and build, but that wasn’t what made him intimidating. No, the glistening black wings longer than he was tall and deadly sharp talons that reflected in the dim torchlight made him quite fearsome looking all on their own. Azrael. The top villain of the greater smp and leader of a group called the Syndicate, an organization of some of the most feared villains in the public eye. The villain glared at Sapnap, icy blue eyes visible behind the crow skull he wore. “You have something that belongs to us.”

“You’re mistaken, unfortunately. Anything I have that I took from you was rightfully someone else’s to begin with. I have no quarrel with you outside of the battlefield.” Sapnap said, doing his best to maintain his professional anti-conflict hero tone that he’d been trained to use. The villain loomed over him, the eye contact prolonged and uncomfortable. Sapnap knew that he was trying to read for any expression, but they were at a standstill. Perks of having blank white eyes in this more humanoid form that the hero agency requested he take during missions (as to not scare the kids or something) meant that he was hard to read. He mentally thanked his dad for picking up that trait, as even though his father was kind, Bad was fucking terrifying.

“Liar.” Was all the villain said before more people came into his view. Not all the members of the syndicate were here, Sapnap noted, but the recognizable ones were Phase, a villain who could teleport, Thunder, a villain with a pretty self explanatory power, and Metis, a villainess who could read people’s feelings and the basic gist of thoughts and just also happened to have deadly aim with a dagger. He took a few moments to wonder where Azrael’s right hand man Blood God or presumed son Psychosis were before remembering they’d both been missing in action for a few months now. Ignoring the few other hooded figures and some minor villains, the only person who Sapnap was actually surprised to see was Brutus, a [seemingly] young new vigilante on the scene who’d made a habit of specifically targeting Azrael in fights and running from everyone else, heroes included. Everyone seemed oddly chill with him being there, in fact everyone seemed to be going out of their way to look any direction other than his.

“Where are the rest of you.” Sapnap asked, more a demand than a question. He could almost hear Azrael’s smile in his response. “Observant, aren’t we, Blaze? Well, the rest of us are going to be taking care of your little friends. I’ll call them off if we get what we want out of you, but if not, we’ll have to get answers from Dream and Nightcap. It likely won’t be hard with your life on the line. As for right now, though, they haven’t noticed your absence. So let’s make this easy; you give us what we want, and you’ll be free to return home before they even notice you’re gone! Everyone wins, really.”

“For the last fucking time I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sapnap sneered. Azrael looked like he was going to respond, but Metis suddenly spoke up. “He’s telling the truth. He really doesn’t know what we want, he’s just that stupid.” “Hey!” “Fine,” Azrael sighed. “Phase, his bag, please.” At that, Sapnap paused. What could they possibly want from his bag? It was just a bunch of his hero junk and-

Oh. Oh fuck.

Metis noticed his falter immediately. “He’s afraid.” She announced, turning her attention to Azrael who looked back at Sapnap with a glare in his eye that could kill a man weaker than a professionally trained hero. “So you do know what we want then.” He said, pulling something out of the bag. Red sunglasses. Round, gold rimmed thick bright red sunglasses. “If you’re so innocent, tell me, Blaze, how you got these? Or better yet, the rest of it?” Azrael spat, shoving his bag over on the table and knocking the contents everywhere. A red button up, gold corset, black and red pinstripe dress pants and red heeled leather shoes. A black dress coat with an insignia on the back, a red star encompassed by a horizontal diamond. A logo that had haunted the hero agency for years. The symbol of a gang with a leader so evil and cunning that he’d not only evaded capture, but evaded any forward malpractice in his casino so no one could legally shut it down. Sure everyone knew a villain ran the casino as a front for crime, but legally, there was no evidence, so it became a hub of drugs, violence, and information. A villain who’d been active before even Sapnap, Dream, and George became heroes.

Oberon. Casino owner, leader of the Las Nevadas gang, spreader of illegal information to whatever party was willing to pay him. Supervillain.

And all of his costume had just fallen out of Sapnap’s hero bag.

“Speechless? I thought you’d take pride in having caught one of the biggest criminals in the city.” Azrael droned. Sapnap stared, unblinking, willing his face not to move despite the mask that covered the lower half of it. “Anyway, we will be needing him back. He’s useful to us, after all.” Sapnap stayed silent, and he could tell it was aggravating Azrael. Metis stepped closer to him, a dagger held at his throat as the Lynx mask she wore drew closer to his face. “He’s terrified. I can’t tell of what exactly, but it’s not us.”

Azrael hummed, not making a move. Sapnap didn’t dare flinch. No, he wasn’t scared. Not of the Syndicate, not of the knife at his throat, not of being kidnapped. He was a hero, shit like this happened.

No, he was terrified because he knew exactly where Oberon was, and he couldn’t get out of this situation.

Sapnap was something of a hybrid. His dad was a demon, his surrogate mom was a human, Skeppy was Skeppy and no one quite knew what he was. But Sapnap was a demon hybrid, a fire demon hybrid to be exact, which didn’t fair well normally. He remembered being beaten up for his horns in school, having his tailed yanked on the street, having people point and laugh at his fangs in cafes. He learned he could hide his hybrid traits. It made things easier. He passed as human almost completely, save for the white eyes and pointed ears. That’s how he was as a hero. Blaze, to the public, was a human with some odd hybrid-esc traits, and that was that.

To his friends and family, he was Sapnap, a fire demon. To his parents, big brother, best friend, and fiancés, he didn’t have to hide. They knew all the weird shit that being a demon came with, one fiancé especially.

Quackity, in Sapnap’s eyes, was perfect. They grew up as neighbors and became instant friends, with Quackity even announcing in the 3rd grade that he was marrying Sapnap and no one was gonna steal him. In high school, after much deliberation, he conceded that he would back down a little bit and share with Karl. As adults, they’ve been planning their wedding for years now. Quackity was funny, optimistic, and kindhearted; the perfect future husband.

Who also happened to be a supervillain on the side.

Sapnap knew. Of course he knew, he’d been one of the first people Quackity told when he first started and couldn’t keep all his secrets and stay sane. But Sapnap became a hero, following his big brother into the field because that’s what he always did. He followed Dream, as did George. Eventually, Karl followed, too. Quackity knew. The first time Quackity walked up to the new heroes on the battlefield as Oberon, he wiped the floor with them. No real damage done, but he knocked out 4 new heroes in one fight solo, and that made him a significantly more threatening and famous villain to the public.

From Sapnap’s perspective, he didn’t want to fight his fiancé and as he was later told from his fiancés perspective, Quackity just wanted the fight over with as quickly as possible. 3 out of 4 heroes pulled their punches while Quackity fought hard. It was an easy match, in the end.

Karl knew who Oberon was too, since “you can’t keep a secret like that for long when you’re so intimately in love with a person that you could identify them by the way they flick their wrist” (and was swiftly punched for by both fiancés for being too sappy). George guessed it immediately. It took the three fiancés a while to stop trying to convince him that Quackity was a regular civilian when George wouldn’t back off that he knew. Dream…well, they’d tell him eventually. Probably.

Point is, Quackiy is awesome and the love of Sapnap’s life, whether or not he’s a supervillain. And as the love of Sapnap’s life who also happens to have shapeshifting superpowers, he volunteers to do some things to help his demon instincts that Sapnap really appreciates. As the only two hybrids of the polycule, they help each other out. Sapnap preens Quackity’s wings, helps him nest, and makes sure he’s warm for the winter while Quackity…well, Quackity lets Sapnap eat him.

Sapnap has been called names before. “freak,” “hellspawn,” he’s used to that, but every so often he’ll hear “maneater” called in his direction and wonder if the person calling him that knows how close they really are. See, while demons have a bad rep for plenty of made up things like stealing souls or cursing people, the rumor that demons kill and eat people is only half wrong. No demon would grab someone off of the street and eat them alive, but a person who the demon cares about immensely and who could fit in their mouth?…yeah, they’d get eaten, but not without proper warning and consent. Demons had crops for a reason (albeit an unknown one, far too evolved in this modern society that the original use for it has been lost to time), and that reason was to store things the demon cared about. There was a reason Bad, at over 9 feet tall, had married a man who could shrink to 2 feet. Sapnap had instincts to store plenty of things: items from his childhood, his fish (he wouldn’t), his friends (he physically can’t but damn if his instincts aren’t stupid), and of course his fiancés. He’d just happened to win the lottery and fall in love with a man able (and more importantly willing) to be stored. Quackity, as an avian, knew the instinct cause he had a crop too, and was more than willing to help Sapnap when he needed it (he occasionally wondered how Quackity dealt with it considering he and Karl couldn’t shrink, but Q always said “a friend” or “work associate” helped him out, so really it wasn’t Sapnap’s business).

Today, Sapnap’s shift had sucked and Karl was stuck at the tower for the rest of the night doing paperwork. So as he often did, Sapnap called Quackity and asked if he would “sleep in” that night. Quackity, as he often did, said yes. Sapnap went down to Las Nevadas and was passed into the casino with no hassle, the worker’s shock of seeing a top three hero walk into a villain lair long worn off. He made it to the office and there sat Oberon. Average height, long wild black hair, and a massive gash that took up almost the whole left side of his face that left his eye milky and showed a golden fang behind his split lip. The expression he wore was always mischievous and hard to read, a poker face that he’d bet not even Metis could get past.

It all fell apart when he saw Sapnap.

His expression melted into joy, the cunning and somewhat frightening look dissipating as he waved slightly. The man shrank to below average height, his hair becoming much shorter and showing feathered ears for a split second before a beanie was hastily thrown over them. The scar closed itself until only a thin pale puckered line showed where the scar had once been, though his eye remained murky. He removed his dress shirt so he was only wearing a tank top and sighed as he let his wings out, stretching out the black and golden feathers. This was Quackity, the man Sapnap fell in love with.

Within a few minutes they were both in pajamas and Sapnap was holding his fiancé in his hands. The only warning Quackity gave was that he had a meeting in the morning so Sapnap would have to let him out early. Sure, he could do that. So carefully, he lifted his hands up to his mouth and slowly tilted his lover in. He felt Quackity melt into the warmth as he slowly raised his own body temperature knowing how much the duck avian liked the heat. He felt feathers press into the walls of his mouth as Quackity stretched his wings and then shapeshifted them away again to get down easier without leaving feathers in his fiancés throat. Other perk of marrying a shapeshifter: they can do shit like that. Within moments of Q patting the roof of Sapnap’s mouth, he was being pulled down by the throat muscles, and Sapnap could feel when Quackity landed in his storage because his powers immediately flared.

Being a fire demon was…weird, Sapnap had come to learn. He’d always known his powers were emotion based, he learned that at a young age. Joy and anger sparked the strongest, sadness and fear dimmed him. Simple. Until he stored Quackity for the first time and almost lit his bedroom on fire. Sapnap learned 2 things that day: 1- turns out, as sappy as it sounded, love was way stronger than joy or anger. 2- according to Quackity, his fire, the root of his power and life force as a fire demon, was in his storage. Literally. Quackity told him cause Quackity saw it. Physically. A glowing orb of fire that just permanently existed in Sapnap’s storage. Quackity also decided touching it would be a good idea (that’s how the bedroom fiasco happened, but that’s besides the point). Point is, when that love he has for his fiancé is combined with the primal demon instinct to store and protect, Sapnap can become an absolute powerhouse of destruction. Higher endurance, stronger, faster, even his flames were hotter. The rest of the heroes called it Hellfire. Quackity agreed it was fitting.

Which meant that when he got an emergency call that a supervillain was on the loose and he was needed immediately, he knew he’d get it over with quickly. He felt Quackity pull his wings back out and push them against the walls surrounding him, a sign that he was good for Sapnap to go do his job. So, that’s what he did, knowing it wouldn’t take long with his hellfire active.

He was right, of course. It was less than an hour before the criminal was in custody, unable to escape past the walls of fire Sapnap put up. He was home only an hour after than, drained of energy and barely able to stand (Quackity massaging him from inside was definitely not helping). He fell asleep before he even got changed out of his hero gear.

Looking back, he realized neither of them had remembered that there was anything important the next day.

Sapnap geared up to do hero work the next day at around noon, packing up Quackity’s villain costume in his bag so he could let his fiancé out later and he could get back to work. He told his higher ups that he was going to patrol around Las Nevadas, which wasn’t suspicious cause of the absurd amount of gang activity that needed dealt with. Quackity, meanwhile, was still asleep, and likely would be till Sapnap returned him to his office and he had to be Oberon again.

Then he was grabbed from behind.

In a split second, he was in a dark alleyway he hadn’t been in a moment before, and there was something swung at his head rapidly before it all went black.

And now he was here. Tied to a chair with a power suppresent cuff, surrounded by supervillains, with his supervillain fiancé in his storage.

Sapnap was speechless, for maybe the first time in his life. He..he couldn’t deny this. There was no way he could plead innocent to having every single piece of Oberon’s costume in his bag. Half the syndicate was glaring down at him, the other half was staged to fight his friends, and the one thing they wanted was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t give up.

“How…how did you know it was me?” “We have a tracker in his costume.” Metis answered simply. “Oberon has never missed a meeting. We have trackers in all Syndicate member’s costumes, just for cases like this. When he didn’t show, we tracked it and it just so happened to lead us right to your stuff. Never imagined a hero would stoop so low as to kidnap someone rather than arrest them.” “I wouldn’t.” he growled. “Are you seriously trying to argue with us right now?” Brutus spoke up for the first time in the conversation. “You have all of Oberon’s missing stuff, you’re getting really defensive, and you’re a hero for fucks sake! Who else would have taken him? Now give us our friend back or else.”

“Pardon, ‘friend?’” Sapnap questioned, momentarily caught off guard. Sure, he knew Quackity worked with the Syndicate, but were they his friends? Did he enjoy their company, or know them on a first name basis? “Yes, friend, dickhead. Villains can have friends too, y’know.” “I know, I just…I don’t know, assumed it was more of a business relationship?” Sapnap questioned, Brutus going to answer before Azrael pushed him back. “Our relationship with Oberon is none of your business, hero. Now tell us where he is.” Oh it very much was his business, but Sapnap wasn’t going to mention that right now.

“…no.” “Ex-fucking-cuse me??” Azrael gawked, momentarily dropping his mask as a terrifying supervillain to just be plain confused. “I said no.” Sapnap said as calmly as he could given that there was still a dagger at his neck. “I can’t tell you where he is, all I can tell you is that he’s safe and I sure as hell didn’t kidnap him.” Azrael’s supervillain mask of annoyance was slipped back on as he glared at Sapnap. “You expect us to believe that, Blaze? You expect us to blindly trust a pro hero?” Azrael scowled. “Exactly, i’m a hero. I wouldn’t hurt someone with no reason, even a villain. I wouldn’t hurt Oberon.” Sapnap pleaded, and from what little he could see of Brutus and Metis’ faces, he thought they might have believed him. Phase and Thunder stood stock still, masks fully covering their faces so Sapnap had no idea what they were thinking. Azrael, however, looked angry. He looked so fucking angry.

“We’re getting nowhere, we don’t have time for this! Oberon could be dead, I can’t trust a word out of your mouth.” He shouted, pushing Metis’s dagger out of the way and grabbing Sapnap by the hair, yanking his head up to look him in the eye. “This isn’t a request anymore. You’re going to tell me where he is right-“ Azrael reeled his arm back, and Sapnap only had a few moments to realize what he was going to do “-fucking-“ oh no “-now!” Azrael punched Sapnap in the stomach hard, knocking the wind out of him.

Sapnap screamed.

He curled in on himself and gasped for air, crying and screaming. It was all he could think to do in his panic. He couldn’t even bring himself to think of words to say, could only shout and cry and hope that Azrael would leave him alone. He saw the winged man jump back in shock, along with the rest of the villains. He doubted they’d thought that when they captured a superhero they’d end up watching said superhero sob, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wrapped his arms around himself, desperately trying to feel for any sign that Quackity was alright, only to realize that this was the first time in hours he’d moved his arms.

He looked down through the tears in his eyes and realized he wasn’t tied to the chair anymore. The ropes that had been tied around him were now strewn on the ground; singed, tattered, and smoking. The power suppressents lay on the ground with the ropes, sparking and useless. Holy shit, did he just break the power suppressents??

Sapnap’s thoughts were cut off when he felt and heard something from in his storage. He felt Quackity grow heavier, likely shifting just a little bit bigger, and he could feel him pressing into the walls. “What the fuck?” Quackity asked groggily, Sapnap feeling him stretch out. “Ow, fuck, what the fuck was that, Sap??” Lots of thoughts ran through Sapnap’s head, his instincts flaring and clouding his thoughts. Was Quackity ok? He was conscious thank god, but he said ow, how badly was he hurt? Quackity was supposed to be safe when he was with Sapnap, but he wasn’t safe, how could he keep his fiancé safe? “Blaze?” Who? “Blaze, you with us?” Not Quackity, Quackity would have called him by his name. He looks up and sees Brutus standing over him, most of the villains having taken a step back, including Azrael, surprisingly. “You feeling better?” “…please don’t hit me again.” Sapnap pleaded quietly through a sore throat. “What the fuck does that mean? Sapnap what the fuck?? Are you safe, where are you!?” Quackity shouted, shifting himself smaller so he wouldn’t be as loud. Brutus, oblivious to what Sapnap was hearing, knelt down to be eye level with the hero.

“I won’t. Maybe those guys will, but I’m not that kind of guy. I like to think of myself as a hero.” “…I can’t back down on this. I’m not telling you or the Syndicate where Oberon is. That’s final.” He said strongly. “Fucking what?!” Quackity shouted, pushing himself forwards only to fall. “Fuck! Shit, ow…” He trailed off, which almost made Sapnap panic again, but he knew things would only get worse if they knew where Quackity actually was. Brutus was silent for a moment. “Ok,” he said finally. “Then they’ll just keep you here until you do, I guess. But I can stick around to make sure they won’t hit you again, that was uncalled for.” He finished, glaring angrily at Azrael at the end. “Thank you, Brutus.” Sapnap finished, not making any move to stand or move. “Brutus?!” He heard Quackity yell, though he just hoped his fiancé could understand why he wasn’t answering.

Things got quieter after that. Sapnap, despite still being free from his restraints, did nothing to run. What could he do, after all? He was totally outnumbered. And despite Brutus’s promise that he would keep him from getting hurt (again), he knew that if it came down to it, Brutus would fight with the Syndicate, not him. Besides, even if he did get out, the villains would come after him immediately. Or worse, they’d target Dream and George, and Dream did not need to know of his (or literally everyone else’s) ties to the casino villain.

Quackity tried communication. Sapnap could hear him asking questions, begging for any reply to let him know that Sapnap was safe, that they were both safe. But he couldn’t. The villains and Brutus were watching him like a hawk, making sure he wouldn’t run. As if he was that stupid. But in return, he couldn’t comfort his frightened fiancé. Every second he spent listening to Quackity was another second he spent willing tears out of his eyes.

“Ok, ok, so you obviously can’t talk right now. Or hum. Or physically signal. Fuck, how…how can I talk to you?” Quackity pleaded aloud as if Sapnap hadn’t been pondering the exact same thing. He couldn’t speak, tap, hum, or even try to constrict his stomach: he didn’t know how badly crowfather’s punch had hurt him or if constructing the muscles around him would worsen the injury.

Every thought frustrated Sapnap further. It was infuriating.

“That’s it! Sapnap, your flame!” Quackity exclaimed. “It just flickered and got brighter, did you do that on purpose? Can you control it?” Holy shit, right, the power suppressants were off. Sapnap didn’t think he could, he certainly didn’t mean to just then; it must have been his anger that made it flare. But the idea that he could communicate, even one sidedly, with his lover made hope blossom in his chest. “There! You did it again, the flame got bigger!” Quackity excitedly yelled. ‘Ok, we can communicate,’ Sapnap thought, ‘all I have to do is control my emotions.’

“Are you safe? Flicker for yes, do nothing for no.” Sapnap tried very hard to not feel frustrated at the current state of things so he could signal that he was not, in fact, safe. There was a few seconds of silence as Quackity processed this. “…shit. Ok, so not safe.” Yeah no duh, stupid fucking supervillains. He could almost feel his flame flare in his chest at the thought. “Yeah, definitely not safe. The syndicate, you said?” Sapnap looked over Azrael , who was watching him with disinterest. He let his disdain for the man take over his thoughts. His flame sparked. “Ok, fuck, that’s worse.” Quackity said. “Are you hurt?” Jesus fuck the emotional whiplash he was putting himself through for this was gonna take years off his life, Sapnap was sure of it. He tried to reel back the hate, to take deep breaths and calm himself and imagine his flame returning to normal. “Ok, that’s good at least.” Quackity sighed, and in that moment Sapnap wanted nothing more than to ask it back. To beg, to plead that he answer his own question. He heard the pain laced in Quackity’s voice, he wasn’t going to forget the pained yells right after he was hit. He needed to know Quackity was ok.

A door across the room that Sapnap hadn’t even realized was there burst open, startling everyone in the room. “Sorry, Dream and Nightcap got away. We chased them, but they were too quick.” The man who was speaking had dark green hair, a massive gas mask looking face covering, and was big as a motherfucker. This was one of the most well known members of the syndicate, a previous hero called Machina who had quit the committee before the Dream Team was ever even introduced to the public, though he trained them all behind the scenes. Only a few months after his retirement, he showed back up as a villain. Sapnap knew this man well. “Shit,” Azrael cursed. “That’s fine, Warden, we’ll work with it. We just need to let them know we still have Blaze as ranso-“

“Sam!!” Sapnap screamed, pleading to whatever god that would listen that Sam could get him, them out of this. He felt Quackity perk up, dragging himself to the front of the stomach with only minor noises of pain. Sam was his hero mentor and one of his dad’s best friends, basically his uncle. He trusted Sam, and he knew Sam would at least want to do the right thing here. Whether or not he could convince Azrael to let him, though, was a different issue.

“Hm? Blaze!? What the fuck are you doing here, what happened?!” Sam yelled, storming over to Sapnap. Ok, so apparently Azrael hadn’t told him why he was supposed to be attacking Dream and George. “Look at his bag. We haven’t heard from Oberon, and it’s pretty damn clear whose fault that is.” Sapnap couldnt see Sam’s face behind his mask, but he could imagine his expression as he faced the bag and slowly turned his head to stare at Sapnap. It almost would have been comical if not for the situation.

See, Sapnap wasn’t the only one who was close with Sam. Quackity, despite not being a hero, knew the man pretty well himself, given that he was his legal guardian and all. Quackity’s parents abandoned him when he was really young, and Sam, his older cousin, took him in. Sam and Quackity had been pretty inseparable ever since, so he was sure that Sam’s presence made his fiancé feel exponentially better. Given that Sapnap and Quackity had been neighbors growing up, Sam had a lot of time to get accustomed to his ward’s role in Sapnap’s weird demon halfling shit. A role that grew larger when they started dating as teenagers, and Bad had to begrudgingly explain to Sam what a storage was when Quackity didn’t come home on time one night and Sam walked in on Sapnap eating him. That had not been a fun talk, but in hindsight it was better for him to have learned earlier than later.

Sam’s gaze lingered on Sapnap for a while before he flicked his head down just a bit, almost imperceptibly. Sapnap gave a quick abrupt nod in response and saw Sam’s shoulders tense. He knew.

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked, his head tilted down enough to show that his eyes were clearly not trained on Sapnap’s own, but rather his torso. “Yes.” Sapnap answered simply, hoping that if Sam thought one or both of them were injured he could get them out. He knew Quackity was hurt, that was his main priority. Sam sucked a breath in. “Azrael, I’ll handle it from here.” “Warden, I don’t think you-“ “I said,” He turned to the other villain, looming over the man. “I’ll take it from here. I know Blaze from my time as a hero. I know how to get him to crack.” Sam said, walking over to Sapnap and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Sapnap very carefully kept his face stone cold. He needed Azrael to believe Sam would actually torture information out of him. “…if you insist. I suppose you know him best.” “Perfect. I’ll be taking him now then.”

“Now hold on! What?!” “Is there a problem, Azrael?” “Ye-“ “Of course there is!!” Brutus interrupted, shockingly. “You can’t just fuckin’ kill the guy! Y-“ “I won’t hurt him more than necessary. You know I won’t.” Sam said, placing a hand on the boys shoulder who just sighed. “…ok.” “Warden, what are you going to do?” Azrael responded clearly fake calmly. “I’m taking him to a safe house for interrogation. I know his weaknesses, you’ve clearly been going to easy on him if he hasn’t spilled. I’m not letting Oberon get hurt.” Sam said with a tone of finality. And again to Sapnap’s surprise, Azrael stepped down immediately. In the back of his mind he wondered if the syndicate knew how close Sam and Quackity truly were, or if they knew the two were family, but he pushed the thought off. That wasn’t what was important right now.

Sam walked back over to him, pulling his trident and holding it to Sapnap’s neck. “You want to live, you’ll do what I say. Got it?” Sapnap nodded easily, incredibly used to the persona Sam puts on when working (Machina and Warden acted incredibly similar, one was just a lot scarier cause he had a giant fucking trident and was no longer bound by law). He pulled a piece of fabric from his costume and handed it to Brutus, who quickly got the message to tie it around Sapnap’s eyes. Once he was blinded, he felt the cold metal of Sam’s suit gloves grab him by the back of his neck and lead him (hopefully) out of the room. After that, there was no communication between the two of them besides the occasional warning of a step or ledge, but Quackity kept talking. “We’re walking, ok, I can tell we’re walking, that’s good. Sam’s getting us out? Are we safe? Ok I can’t tell if we’re not safe or if you just can’t respo-“

“Sam, are we alone?” Sapnap said, desperate to finally be able to console Quackity. “Yes, but play it safe. I don’t remember where the cameras are.” Sapnap nodded. Ok, better than nothing. Sapnap discreetly rubbed his storage, figuring that would look innocent enough over any potential security footage. Then, with no better option, he started to hum. Sapnap had never been incredibly musically gifted, but he hoped the tune of “Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright” was recognizable enough to be comforting. Not long after, he heard Quackity quietly laugh and sing along with whatever words he knew. He smiled. Eventually, Sam’s hand shifted from grabbing the back of his neck to supporting his back, and he felt the trident be lowered away from his throat and heard the scrape of metal on metal as it was re-holstered. He felt the now empty cold metal glove take his hand and guide him further until eventually he was stopped and the blindfold was removed.

Sapnap stopped humming. He was standing outside a car and Sam was very quickly shoving most of his supervillain gear in it. From the look of the run down city around him, they seemed to be in one of the poorer areas of L’manburg, probably near the Pogtopia district. Something tapped his shoulder, and Sapnap whirled, coming face to face with Sam. Not Machina, not Warden; Sam. His dark green eyes and freckled face looked at him with worry. He’d seen that expression so many times; as a concerned family friend, as a mentor, and Sapnap always hated it. Hated seeing Sam sad. Sapnap couldn’t help the tears that welled in his eyes, couldn’t help pulling the man in for a hug. He would have squeezed him half to death if he wasn’t hyper aware of the weight in his middle who was still hurt. He felt Sam hug him back just as carefully, equally aware of Sapnap’s passenger even though he was unable to feel him. “I’m taking you to my place, let’s get out of here.” Sam whispered, and Sapnap nodded, letting out only a few tears before he got in the passenger seat of Sam’s car and immediately pressed both of his hands to his stomach.

“Quackity holy shit are you ok?!” “Fucking finally!!” Quackity cheered in response, growing larger once again now that he knew he didn’t have to hide before hissing in pain again. “I, uh..could be better, hotstuff. What happened?” Sam sat silently behind the wheel as they drove, though Sapnap saw his ear flick in their direction. He wasn’t sure what the limit of his enhanced creeper hearing was, but he hoped he could hear Quackity cause Sapnap didn’t want to have this conversation twice. “There was a tracker in your costume. We forgot about your stupid fucking meeting so the syndicate tracked your costume and found it in my bag. I was on my way to Las Nevadas to return it to you and let you out for work but I was kidnapped because they thought I kidnapped and de-masked you. Then when I wouldn’t talk Azrael punched me in the stomach, which is what woke you up.” “That…that explains a lot. I was half woken up by getting the shit knocked out of me, but also cause your flame fuckin’ blinded me, dude.” ‘That would make sense,’ Sapnap thought. If he got scared enough that his powers managed to burn off literal power suppressant cuffs, it must have been pretty damn bright. “Azrael fucking what?!” Sam interjected. “Yeah. I’m not hurt too bad, maybe a little bruised, but Q seems to be in bad shape.” Sapnap explained. “No I’m-“ “Yes you are. You sound like you’re in pain, you move like you’re in pain, you’re clearly in pain.”

Quackity sat in silence for a moment before relenting. “…I can’t move my left arm and anytime I move my torso or breathe my chest feels like it’s imploding. I think my shoulder’s popped out of it’s socket and my ribs might be broken.” “Fuck.” Sapnap and Sam said simultaneously, answering Sapnap’s silent question on if Sam could hear Q or not. “Ok, we get back to the house and go straight to Ponk. Quackity, do you think you can handle getting let out?” Sam asked louder than normal so Quackity could hear him. “I…I don’t know. I don’t think so. I don’t want to be a pussy but…fuck, it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad, Sam. I don’t wanna know how much worse it’ll get if I get compressed.” “You can cut me open, I don’t give a shit.” Sapnap said, deadly serious. “No, absolutely not you psycho.” Quackity said, kicking his stomach.

“I’ve got enough cuts up here, it’d be fine. It’d match.”

“Those are top scars you bitch that’s not-“

“Same difference.”

“Same difference my ass! We’re not cutting me out of your storage.”

“You need medical attention! What if you’re like, bleeding internally or something??”

“You’ll fuckin’ see what internal bleeding’s like if you insist that I get cut out of here one more time Sapnap I swear to god-“

“Boys!” Sam yelled, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “No one is cutting anyone open! We’ll see what Ponk can do. Worse comes to absolute worst, we’ll wait to see if Q feels better enough to come out tomorrow.” Sam pulled the car into his driveway and stepped out, motioning for Sapnap to follow. He walked in behind Sam, untensing muscles he didn’t even know were tensed upon seeing the familiar rooms and smelling the same lemony citrus scent that had filled the house since his childhood. Safe, he was finally safe.

“Ponk! Get down here, we have a situation!” “What’s up?” He heard yelled from upstairs, then he saw Ponk come into view. A retired hero healer, Sam’s spouse, and Quackity’s step parent who honestly functioned more to him as a cool aunt rather than another caretaker. Sapnap also knew them well. They were well acquainted back when Blaze was new to the Smp, and they’d spent a lot of time getting to know one another given Sapnap’s track record of very very frequent injury. “Q is hurt, but we can’t get him out of Sapnap’s storage. Any ideas?” “Oh fuck, what?” Ponk said, running down the steps. “How bad? What happened? Is he conscious? Is he bleeding? Sam, what are you doing, go get my med bag!” Ponk rambled, and Sam ran to the bathroom and came out seconds later with a first aid kit. They took a stethoscope out and looped it around their neck before Sapnap even had a chance to process half of those questions. “Ok, Sapnap, you’re not the one hurt, correct?” “Correct.” “Ok, then I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off.” Sapnap shrugged and removed his hero gear, and while he was at it, shifted back to his more comfortable and natural half demon form, letting his horns and tail grow back out. “Ok now lay on the couch.” Ponk instructed, leading Sapnap to lay on the couch and pushing a coffee table out of the way so they could kneel next to him. They pressed a hand down in a few areas on Sapnap’s torso before they found Quackity and took off their stethoscope, pressing the cold metal right where they felt the shrunken man.

“Big Q? You doin’ alright in there?” “Good as I can be, Ponk.” Quackity replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awesome.” Ponk replied with equal sass. “Now, this is a bit of an unorthodox check up, but i’m gonna need you to shift bigger if Sapnap can handle it so I can get a better idea of where I’m checking you.” “Im good,” Sapnap replied, “Do what you have to do, Angel.” Sapnap’s breath hitched as he felt Quackity grow larger, laying on his back in the storage and stretching out the walls around him, just on the brink of being uncomfortable for Sapnap but not quite there. Sapnap sucked in his stomach as much as possible to give Ponk more direct contact to Quackity. With Quackity so thoroughly pinned in his storage, he could feel every breath, every twitch, every heartbeat. He nodded at Ponk, who went back to checking up on the shrunken man. “Ok, I’m gonna press where I think your chest is, you’re going to tell me if I’m pressing in the right place and if it hurts.” Ponk placed a hand down and pressed gently, making Sapnap wince as Quackity flinched and shoved at his storage. “Yeah, that’s my chest and it fuckin’ hurts.” “1-10?” “8 or something I don’t know. I’m a supervillain, I get hurt a lot, i’m used to it.” “Ok. I have an idea. I can’t tell if your ribs are broken or if you just have a contusion, but either way it would take too long to heal naturally in there. You need to get out, but getting out would worsen the injuries, so I’m gonna try something.”

Ponk placed both hands right over where they’d deduced Quackity’s chest to be. Then, their hands (er, hand [Sam was never going to stop apologizing for that, despite it being a workplace accident that Ponk had long forgiven him for]) began to heat up. Sapnap was very used to seeing Ponk use their powers, having had them used on himself many times, but what Ponk was trying to do now was not only fascinating to watch, but logically also impossible. They were trying to heal Quackity through Sapnap’s skin. Ponk’s eyes squeezed shut tight as they bit their bottom lip almost to the point of blood in frustration, focusing all their energy on their power. “Ponk?” Quackity asked, before gasping. “Holy shit…” and Sapnap knew what that meant. “Ponk, it’s working, keep going.” Sapnap pleaded breathlessly, because he can tell it is. He hears Sam gasp as well from his place watching behind the sofa. He can only feel minimal amounts of Ponk’s power on his own skin, the minor bruising left behind by Azrael’s punch dissipating under their power. He looks down at himself and sees Quackity glow with the affects of Ponk’s power on him, the healing light illuminating through Sapnap’s storage. It was mesmerizing.

Eventually Ponk lifts their hands off Sapnap’s torso and sighs. Sam runs and quickly returns with water, which Ponk accepts graciously. Sapnap sits up, placing a light hand over Quackity. “Angel? Are you alright??” “I- I can’t believe that worked. What the fuck.” Sapnap just laughed, curling both arms around himself and hanging his head down, crying out of sheer relief after the incredibly fucking stressful evening he’d had. “Oh my fuck, thank god. Thank fucking god.” “He’s ok?” Sam asks, hands on Ponk’s shoulders supporting his partner. “Yes. He’s ok.” Sam sighed dramatically and rested his head on Ponk’s shoulder who just laughed and placed their hand on Sam’s head. “That didn’t take nearly as much out of me as I thought it would. Bone healing normally is a lot more tiring, so i’m gonna guess that it was just a shoulder injury and contusion in your chest, no actual broken ribs. Still, though, neither of those injuries would have done well under intense pressure. I’m glad healing it worked from out here.” Ponk explained. “Yeah we can figure out how the fuck you did that later.” Sapnap said, standing and stretching his arms above him, feeling his shoulders pop and hearing Quackity yelp as he got constricted in the surrounding muscles at his still bigger-than-average size. He was kind of glad Sam and Ponk were distracted with each other since he was sure that Quackity’s outline in his stomach was incredibly visible at the moment.

Sapnap patted his stomach and felt Quackity pat back. “Ok, as much as I love having you this close and all, cause I do, it has been almost 24 straight hours. You ready to come out now?” “Fuck yes, i’m raiding Sam’s fridge.” Sapnap laughed and pressed under where he felt Quackity, feeling weight dissipate as his fiancé shrunk to a size that Sapnap could manage to bring back up and hid his wings away. It was only a few more seconds before Quackity was traveling up Sapnap’s throat and ended up back in his mouth. Sapnap paused for just a few moments to suck the remaining spit off his fiancé and savor his flavor just a bit longer. Quackity lightly kicked Sapnap’s teeth, though Sapnap could feel the vibrations of laughter against his cheeks until he eventually relented and pulled the man out of his mouth, holding him gently in his palms. “Couldn’t help myself, darlin’, you taste as good as ever.” Sapnap purred, the shrunken man turning red in response. “Christ Sapnap, don’t do this to me so soon after I get out. Give me like an hour of grace before you make me want to go back in, you know I can’t say no to a pretty boy like you.” Quackity smiled back, a smirk pulling at his scarred lips as he gently traced his finger along the palms he sat in. Sapnap flustered; no matter the size or situation, he knew he’d always lose these word games with Quackity.

He loved him so goddamn much.

Quackity was quickly pulled from Sapnap’s hands by a very relieved and stressed Sam, who held the shrunken man to his cheek tightly. “Quackity oh thank fuck, I was so worried when I figured out where you were I assumed the worst at first when Azrael said-“ “Sam, I’m fine!” Quackity comforted, pushing himself away from Sam’s cheek to make eye contact with his pseudo-brother. “I’m alright, thanks to you. You got us out of there, thank you. I mean, talk about a literal Deus Ex Mach-“ “Quackity if you finish that joke I’ll fucking eat you.” Sam sighed, no actual heat behind his words. Quackity just laughed. “And Ponk, thank you. I don’t know how you did that, but thank you.” “No problem. My powers are less based on contact and more if I can get a clear visual of the person I have to heal and what injuries they have. It apparently works just as well if I can picture them in my head, which was pretty easy given I’ve known you almost your whole life.” “That’s fuckin’ sick.” Quackity nodded. “Now Sam, hand me back to Sapnap, he’s a human furnace and it’s really cold out here covered in spit.” Sam passed Quackity off to Sapnap who held him reverently as Quackity melted into the warmth the fire demon provided, pulling his wings back out as he curled against Sapnap’s fingers. “Would you mind grabbing food, too? I don’t think he’s eaten in like a day and a half.” Sapnap asked, and Sam and Ponk nodded before heading to their kitchen.

Sapnap took his bandana off and offered it to Quackity, who took it and began wiping himself down. Sapnap gently sat Quackity down on his lap. “I’m sorry about all of this.” He sighed, and Quackity gave him a confused look. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do shit. Believe me, I’ll be sure to put Azrael through the wringer next time I see him for this whole situation. But everything turned out alright, didn’t it? I’ll bet you anything that this won’t even be the most stressful fiasco this week.” Sapnap groaned. “I hate that you’re right. Why the fuck did I pick this job.” “Beats me, hero boy.” Quackity shrugged, done drying himself off. “But we survived our life-threatening mission of the day, you know what that means?” “What does that mean, hun?” Before he could blink, Quackity was back to normal size, sitting horizontally on his lap and looping the bandana behind Sapnap’s head, pulling it forward to kiss him. Sapnap was taken aback for all of 3 seconds before he slipped his arms behind Quackity and under his knees and held him closer to his chest, not breaking the kiss for a moment. He wasn’t lying before, Quackity did taste incredible. Quackity in turn dropped his hold of the bandana, instead electing to loop his arms around Sapnap’s neck and ensnare his hands in his fiancés hair and around his jawline for a tighter hold. It was messy; too long and somewhat violent (listen, they both had sharp teeth, blood was bound to be drawn) and not quite right with Quackity’s scar and golden tooth and Sapnap’s demon fangs. They were both smiling like idiots, too caught up in the joy of just being there kissing the other to worry about if they were kissing right.

It was perfect.

“I love you.” Quackity whispered, and Sapnap took note because it was rare that Quackity ever spoke outright like this. His lover was always more for gifts or quality time than words, though flirting was his exception. Words were more Karl’s thing, actions were Sapnap’s. But Quackity almost never directly said what was on his mind. “I was scared tonight.” Quackity continued quietly. “I’m not used to being scared for you. I know you’re a hero, and I know you can handle yourself, but my…’work associates’ can be vicious. I couldn’t hear them, you couldn’t speak. I sat for so long just begging you’d get out safely. I couldn’t do anything to protect you. I felt…well, small. I don’t ever want to be afraid of losing you ever again. I love you too much for that.” Sapnap pressed gentle kisses to his fiancés hairline, wiping the slow tears that fell from his eyes. “If I could help it, you’d never fear for me again. I’d set the world ablaze before I’d ever want to see you scared.” “Jesus Christ you sound like Karl.” Quackity sniffled, chuckling.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be a safe space for you.” Sapnap sighed. His storage was supposed to be a place where Quackity could feel protected, and now it had made him feel anything but. His instincts were in a fucking mess about it. “You’ll always be a safe space for me, baby.” Quackity answered, leaning his head against Sapnap’s shoulder. “I’ll always feel safer within you than anywhere else. I was scared for you, that’s all. I got you into that, and I couldn’t help you.” “You just being there helped more than you know. I hate that you got hurt, I hate that I couldn’t stop it, but…well, even if it’s selfish, I’m glad I wasn’t going through it alone.” Quackity smiled at him, an adoring look in his eyes before he laughed. “Aw, tsk tsk, selfishness is no trait befitting a hero. Maybe you should just quit and join my gang.” He grinned evily. “Ooooo, maybe some other time, but as of right now I rather enjoy upholding the law, Oberon.” “Ew, yuck.”

“We didn’t know what to grab so we threw frozen pizza in the oven.” Sam announced loudly, re-entering the room and placing two full hot pizzas in front of the couple. “Also we figured we should grab food that takes a while to make to give you two some alone time~” Ponk winked before he was promptly elbowed by Sam. “Oh fuck yeah!” Quackity cheered, practically shoving himself off Sapnap to grab a slice. Sam and Ponk laughed as Quackity shoveled the whole thing in his mouth, moaning at how good it was before swallowing and quickly grabbing another piece. Sapnap just watched for a moment. Quackity trying to reach for his third piece in the last 30 seconds, Sam trying (and failing) to hold him back so he didn’t choke and die after being saved less than an hour ago, and Ponk losing their absolute shit watching it all. All these people he’s known almost his whole life, yet when he also knew them so intimately on the battlefield, he sometimes forgot how…domestic it all was. How nice it was to just be with his lover and his family.

“Hey, Cracknap,” Ponk broke his train of thought, “you gonna eat or what?” Sapnap smiled. “Yeah, sorry, just got distracted. Thanks, guys.” “Anytime, Sap.” Sam replied, finally trusting Quackity to not die since he was now eating pizza at a normal speed. Good food and people he cared about, safe and sound.

Even if Quackity was right and Sapnap would probably have to go through another horrifyingly stressful ordeal by the next day, for now, everything was as it should be. As long as he could come back to this at the end of the day, whether it was with his friends, Quackity’s family, or his own, everything would be ok.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Lost & Found

(1-3)

Previously | Next

Short story # 20

Gif NOT mine.

Summary - When you followed your best friend Wade Wilson into the Void, you never expected to cross paths with your lost love, Frank Castle.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW (Though there is talk about some dark themes, including death and attempted suicide.)

Reading time (roughly) - 14 minutes

⚠️Some small spoilers ahead!⚠️

We'll pretend that The Punisher didn't die in the void, and in your timeline you were married to Frank, and he was the one to die with your kids, and you became The Punisher.

Ignoring the blood on the seat, (Y/n) lounged in the far back seat of the Honda Odyssey. "You two are ridiculous, you know that right?" She asked the men who'd just finished their little pissing contest of a fight. "Mhh hufp eh." Wade tried speaking, but the seatbelt secured tightly around his mouth prevented actual words. "No I will not be unbuckling you. I want to get some rest, and I can't do that if you idiots keep fighting. So shut up and go to sleep." (Y/n) sassed her best friend, ignoring Logan when he chuckled dryly. "If I didn't know you'd survive it, I'd have shot you both myself." She added with a huff, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep. "You're welcome to try sweetheart." Logan mused, a faint grin stretched across his lips. "I'll save my bullets thank you." She sassed, smirking when she heard Wade giggle. "My son's were better behaved than you two." She added in a soft tone, upon hearing her admission Logan cracked open an eye, glancing over at Wade who'd gone uncharacteristically quiet. "Were?" He asked without much thought, unaware of the story behind The Punisher. He opened his eyes further when Wade writhed in an attempt to free himself, grunting and huffing about something. "Another time Wolvie, another time." (Y/n) muttered, regretting having brought it up in the first place.

Wade ceased his struggle, but still muttered to himself. And the more Logan thought on it, the more he realized that something bad must have happened. Something Wade clearly knew all about, considering how hard he had been trying to free himself. "I'm sorry." Logan muttered quietly, hoping she heard him. "You didn't know." She responded, as her arms crossed over the white skull painted across her black body armor. "I shouldn't have said anything in the first place." She added while sleep clawed at her tired mind. Logan hummed in his throat, closing his eyes once more as he relaxed into the reclined seat. "How many did you have?" Logan asked without thought, again making Wade struggle against the seatbelts. "Curiosity killed the cat you know." (Y/n) said as she cracked open her eyes, looking to the older man dressed in yellow. "I'm sorry... I just..." He struggled to find the words, unsure of why he was so adamant in asking questions. "I had two sons." She told him, leaning forward to rest her hand against Wades shoulder, to calm his frantic movement. "I was in the special forces, then I was an FBI agent, and I made a lot of enemies in both lines of work." She sighed softly, locking eyes with Logan when he turned to look at her. "During my last mission things went south, and a young man that shouldn't have been there got killed."

She leaned her elbows on her knees, swallowing the knot in her throat. "His parents were the leaders of this big criminal syndicate, and they wanted payback for the death of their son." She leaned back in her seat. "Their men killed my entire family, during a big family reunion in Puerto Rico. They run my husband and sons down with their truck like animals. Then they tried killing me, shooting me in the chest, and then they blew up the pier, while I lay at the end bleeding out." She exhaled through her nose heavily. "'Bout five months later I hunted them all down one by one, and I saved the father for last, made him kill his best friend and his own wife even. That was all three years ago. I met Wade not long after I finished the job, he actually convinced me not to kill myself." She chuckled bitterly, with a roll of her eyes. "And now look at us, lost in the asshole of the universe." She mused sarcastically, making herself comfortable in her seat again. Wade tried wiggling free again, seemingly determined to comfort his best friend. "Don't worry 'bout me bud, I'm alright." (Y/n) said in a comforting tone, smiling softly when he relaxed again. "Now that's enough story time, go to sleep." She instructed like a mother would, making Logan chuckle with a smile. "You're one tough woman." He said as he relaxed once more.

When the car jolted with movement, (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open. With a quick glance, she noted that Wade and Logan were still passed out. Looking to the drivers seat she saw a girl with dark hair driving the car. The sound of the safety clicking off of (Y/n)'s pistol caught the girls attention, and she locked eyes with (Y/n) through the rearview mirror. "Who are you?" The Punisher asked, unsurprised that Wade and Logan still slept soundly. "A friend." Was all the girl said, and (Y/n) hummed as she clicked the safety back in place. "Hope for your sake, you're tellin' the truth." Was all she said as she holstered her pistol, relaxing into her seat she could tell that they were headed in the right direction. "You're a Punisher?" The girl asked, glancing in the rearview before focusing on the path ahead. "I am." (Y/n) clicked her tongue, unsurprised that there was most likely more Punishers within the Void. Especially considering the way Nova had spoken to her the day prior, as if she'd met her before and considered her a traitor. "There's one at our safehouse." The girl told her as they crest a hill, pointing to an inconspicuous place on the horizon. "He's quiet." She added, and the older woman moved to sit in the passenger seat, careful not to bother the guys as they slept.

"If he's anything like me, he's been through a lot." She said brushing away the broken glass before sitting down. "We all have." The girl said, glancing to (Y/n) who nodded her head in agreement. "I suppose you're right." She glanced back at the guy's. "My names Laura." The girl introduced as she put the car into park. "(Y/n)." She nodded her head, and shifted in her seat when the young girl got out of the beat up car, leaving her behind with the guys who still slept soundly in the back. Sighing under her breath she moved to the back, and pulled her combat knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh. With little effort she cut away the straps keeping Wade pinned to the seat, once he was free she simply slapped him across the face. "Daddy?" Wade muttered as he sat up, shaking his head to shake off the sleep. "Not quite." (Y/n) chuckled before testing her luck and slapping Logan as well. The older man snapped awake with an angry growl, his claws extending from the hand closest to her, and he blindly tried swiping at her assuming it was Wade. (Y/n) however dodged the attack with swiftness, smiling at him when he realized who she was. "You'll have to try harder next time." She mused before pulling the sliding door open, letting herself out. "I thought you were Wade." Logan admitted, as he followed her out, feeling bad that he could have seriously hurt her. "I knew what I was doing." She shrugged before cracking her neck.

"Hey that's just hurtful." Wade cut in as he climbed out of the car, glaring at Logan who scoffed at him. "Where the hell are we?" Logan asked as he observed a door leading to a stairway. "Let's find out." (Y/n) mused as she took the lead, followed closely by Wade who was complaining about a stiff neck. "Hey how exactly did we get here?" Wade suddenly asked as they entered a large room, where people were clearly living. "A friend." Was all (Y/n) said, while she observed the trinkets lying around. "Bullshit." Logan muttered, beelining across the room when he noticed a bottle of liquor. "A friend?" Wade questioned with a small tilt of his head. "Patience bud." (Y/n) mused with a faint grin, noting the sound of approaching footsteps from the stairway. "You know I think that's what I like best about you both." Wade pointed to (Y/n). "You always call me bud." He then pointed to Logan. "And you call everyone bub." He then placed his hands on his hips. "It's cute." He added making both Logan and (Y/n) roll their eyes. Before Logan could make a remark, several people made their entrance, and with each person Wade became increasingly excited. Apparently he knew something neither (Y/n) or Logan knew. But when the fourth person descended the stairs coming into view, (Y/n) dropped the glass jar she'd been holding.

Logan glanced at her, and Wade gasped in shock. "No way." He rushed to his best friends side, latching onto her arm like an excited kid. "(Y/n)?" The man breathed out, looking just as stunned as she did. Logan glanced between them, noting the matching gear and decorative skulls. "Frank." She whispered his name, the both of them rushing across the room immediately after to embrace. "How are you here? Alive?" Frank asked as he pulled away from the embrace, to hold her face between his hands. "I could ask you the same thing." She breathed out, her eyes glossy and her throat tightening. Without another word he pulled her into a kiss, both of them pouring their heart and souls into the kiss as if it were their last. "Okay the kids are watching." Wade called out just as Frank's hands drifted down (Y/n)'s back, and when he realized what he'd said he winced as if he'd been stabbed. "Who's he?" Frank asked as they parted again. "A friend. He's kept me sane after..." She said as her hands drifted down his chest to trace the iconic skull. "You're not really her are you?" He asked as he brushed his thumb across her jaw. "And you're not really him." She muttered as she leaned into his touch. "What happened to you?" Frank asked. "Same thing that happened to you by the looks of it." (Y/n) placed her hand over his heart.

"(Y/n)." Wade called out her name softly, drawing the attention of both Punishers to him. "Right." She sighed softly. "We need your help." She looked back to her husband, then to the others that stood on the other side of the room. "All of your help actually." She said as she pulled away from Frank, who was reluctant on letting her go. "Our universe is dying." She explained, only to get cut off by Blade. "I don't give a shit about your universe." He retorted, and Frank glared at him. "Some heroes you all are." She shot back with a scowl. "Whether you care or not, billions of people are going to die needlessly, and there's a chance you can help change that." She looked to Frank, taking a small step back she held her arms out. "I'm no hero, I'm a killer. It's all I've ever been, and it's all I'll ever be. But when someone threatens to kill off my entire universe, I will die trying to stop them. Not for myself, but for them. All of them, the ones that can't defend themselves, the ones that need a goddamn hero, and the ones who will never know of the sacrifices made to keep them safe." (Y/n) looked back to Wade, dropping her arms back to her sides. "I have nothing left to fight for in my universe, but I am still willing to try saving it for those who do." She then looked back to the others. "And if you all would rather sit here and rot away in the asshole of all the universes that's fine." She looked between each of them.

"But I refuse to just sit back and claim it's not my problem, so I'll go back out there. And I'll probably die trying my damnedest to get Wade and Logan passed Nova, but I will die doing what's right, and I will die knowing that I at least tried to do the right thing." (Y/n) said as she took another small step back, and then turned to Wade. "Cap would be jealous." Wade joked, trying to lighten the mood. (Y/n) simply rolled her eyes at her friend despite the small smile on her face. "No I'm serious, I've got tears." He said as he pointed to his masked face. "I'm going with you." Frank said as he moved closer to his wife. "I couldn't save the version of you in my universe, but if there's a chance I can protect you, to save you." He took her face between his hands again. "I'll do whatever it takes." He promised before resting his forehead against her own. "I like her." Gambit said, with a nod of his head. "I'm in." He concluded as he flipped a card between his fingers. "Yeah okay, I'm in too." Elektra agreed as she rest her hands on her hips. "Fuck it anything is better than sitting around in this shithole, I'm in." Blade said as he messed with one of his knives.

"Who knew you were so good at speeches." Wade said with a giggle, yanking (Y/n) away from Frank in his excitement, so he could jump around with her in his arms. "You're all gonna fucking die." Logan said before taking another swig of the liquor he'd been nursing. "Maybe, but atleast we'll have died fighting for something." (Y/n) retorted as she shrugged Wade off. "I'm coming as well." A fifth voice called out, as she entered from another room. Wade gasped in surprise, looking to Logan as he pointed to the girl. "That's X-23." He told him, but Logan didn't seem to care much. "Her names Laura." (Y/n) corrected Wade, who did a dramatic double take. "You know her?" He asked with a small tilt of his head. "She's a friend." (Y/n) told him with a faint grin, holding back a laugh when Wade shouted with excitement. "I don't know how you put up with him." Frank muttered. "He takes some getting used to, but he kinda just grows on you after a while." She said as she smiled to her husband. "Look I know you're not the Frank from my universe, but I just..." Her smile faded. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, and our boys." Her eyes drifted to the floor, the pair of them oblivious to what was going on around them. "Hey hey look at me." He encouraged as he tilted her head up. "I know you tried your hardest, he knows that you tried your hardest. Don't ever forget that." He kissed her forehead, before pulling her into his arms, her head tucked under his chin. "Thank you." She whispered softly, trying to ignore the tears welling in her eyes.

Previously | Next

[flashfuture]

The flashes have:

• weird found family that is a mix of a found family and blood family and most of them actually truly get along and care about each other even if some of them are little sassy.

• have powers where the upper echelon of their brood, with the most power are verging on multiverse and time gods and the ones just starting out still range on the side of most destructive meta humans on earth, if they are still human at all.

• their most interesting villains are crime syndicate with a amazing dental and medical plan who usually have something approaching morals.

I think they make other heroes only a little jelly beans cause they have all these boons and they are still interesting as characters to watch.

like it's actually so crazy if you think about it. in 1938 the DC universe time began. but the way time works in DC it's easier to think of time as the addition of every second. it's static not accumulative. 1 second 1 second 1 second 1 second and on to eternity. A life is made up of seconds coming together 1 2 3 4 5 6. But this didn't happen not for 18 years. Until 1956 when Barry Allen was struck by lightning in both canon and out of universe. Things started moving Forward

(The Flash: Rebirth)

And he made the speed force. He keeps the present in the present and the rest of time away by generating the kinetic force that makes the lightning that gives the Flashes their speed.

Barry canonically moves Time forward by existing but he can also force it. He did so twice once fighting reverse flash/zoom and once fighting the turtle. When fighting Turtle, Barry connected himself to every living being except Turtle and pulled them all into the future by a few seconds to thwart his Turtley plans.

And Wally well I have a theory that Wally stores the memories the moments added together that make a life. In 1986 Barry reset the universe and everyone's minds got Fucked. Before Final Crisis when they bring back Wally from the speedforce it causes Bruce and Hal to remember Barry and incorrectly assume he's the one coming back. In 2011 when Flashpoint happened Barry did it Without Wally. Wally who was in the speedforce and got stuck again and once again everyone's backstories reset and their memories were fucked. In 2016 when Wally breaks out he returns memories to people. With Infinite Frontier this is the first universe reset where Wally's speed force is actively contributing to what happens and not only do people retain their current memories they start getting All their old memories back.

Reverse Flash represented paradoxes in time. But in the most recent run Barry phases through him giving him some speed force. And Eobard gets reset to how he should have been. Becoming connected to Barry fixes his Present. That kinetic wall between the present and time.

Bart I have no idea what they're doing with him they should be remembering that he's the best Fighter of the flashes. That he's vicious and blitzes enemies like Godspeed. Also how Bart is the most scatter brained and seemingly can not slow down unlike his grandpa and cousin. Yet he also is the only one of the entire family to be able to retain what he's learned forever. And has I think the greatest feats of cosmic awareness basically teaching himself about the meta of the DC universes reboots. Bart I think should represent the inevitability of the future coming. No matter how many changes you think you can make a future will always be there. Something to be said for him being a character created during Zero Hour year too I'm sure of it.

[elodieunderglass]

Good day! 🙏 I know that this might come inappropriate to ask for a favor like this but I just wanted to ask if you could possibly share or boost the post I pinned for my cat. We're in desperate need of help right now. I hope youd consider, if not I understand dont worry. Be safe always! Btw, happy late valentines to you! Pls consider sending me a msg instead of replying the ask publicly, if its fine or maybe answer it privately 🙏

Scammer, sweetheart, I am fascinated by you. Are you one person making about $1000 a month preying on kind people who have very little money themselves? Is $1000 a lowball or do you actually make a wage? Is this your living? Are you a parasite for a living, or is it just a hobby? I mean, you raise enough to invest in checkmarks on your account, which is cute.

Or are you an exploited person who is being forced through circumstances to farm for gold, the profit of which is taken by the crime syndicate that is keeping you captive. Stealing cat photos and sob stories, making fake victim stories and researching which little fandoms will make you seem most real, when you are yourself the one who needs help (not the latest fake cat.) are there a group of you, with a target to meet, swapping tips to meet the quota? Is that why it’s always a cat, did you work out that people pay the most for cats or something?

I hope it’s the first situation: it means I can make fun of you as much as I like. But if it’s the second, that feels awful. And I do worry that it’s the second, because if it was the first, you’d have enough memory in your little noggin not to bother me. Because you blocked me, babes, when I pointed out there was no cat, and we all killed you. So I worry it’s the second scenario.

I suppose you could be a group of giggling unpleasant teens in a bedroom? Maybe Mean Girls who started off making tumblr accounts for a coordinated bullying attack, but ended up accidentally running a bot farm. Maybe young forum-dwellers who think it’s a particularly delicious twist to squeeze the silly tumblr queers too dumb to know better and use the cash to finance right-wing YouTubers. Maybe this is what the trained kids who are paid to run psy-ops during election years do in the off-cycle. But I do worry about a bleary room over-full of tired people, badly fed, badly housed, grimly slapping 🙏 emojis by hand on a thousand messages. I always feel bad hanging up on spam callers when you hear the great dreary hangar of phones and callers all around them. Nobody wants to be involved in the conversation but the scam callers have a quota to meet, a set amount of cash to extract from the faceless marks, and so they power bleakly through the latest script with a hundred other trapped people doing the same. What are your bosses like?

Are you doing this against your will, @the-nonbinary-witch? Next time, come to me right away put some emojis in indicating that you need help. A few skulls will tip me off.

[3liza]

re: last reblog - saw a TikTok ad the other day of a zoomer lifestyle peddler visually coded as a Nonbinary Dirtbag Leftist (dyed ratty hair, conspicuous piercings, cheap punk clothing) attempting to sell me an ebook about how to elevate my class position by buying a turnkey business like a laundromat.

so, exploiting the poor. and I mean they aren't wrong, that's how you get class mobile. I don't think it's actually possible to run a business like that ethically and still make a profit. maybe I'm wrong. but it seems like every bit of the profit is extracted from a dependence upon the poverty of the clientele, eg, lack of access to home laundry, charging greater than cost for time, water, soap and cleanliness which are all human rights, hiring employees at minimum wage, etc. the entire basis of charging money for such an amenity is a process of creating waste also, it creates waste in travel from home to the Laundromat, it creates waste in putting a laundromat in a storefront where housing could be, it creates waste in handling money and bills for a business that isnt essential etc etc. and it's an economic coercion because clean clothes aren't something you can budget or cut down on, you basically have your clientele by the balls.

on the other hand I'm rapidly approaching a grinding surface in terms of either entering into one of these exploitative processes as a means-of-production owner, which would be accomplished purely through debt on my part, or having to withdraw to permanent poverty, and the third option is winning the lottery either literally or figuratively through an unforeseen inheritance, sudden recovery from illness, or getting popular on social media in a way that produces profit

I think the anarcho syndicalists are broadly correct in that small organization is the correct move, eg, I'm about to lead test my apartment water supply and do some other moves that I expect to use to lower my rent, but the bigger project would be to contact the other tenants and see if they'd be interested in essential a "hostile" acquisition of the building based on having it fail a bunch of inspections, which I absolutely think is possible.

I could see using a small syndicate of partners/friends to collectively purchase the laundromat as a co-op. but would the profit splitting make it not worthwhile? maybe we would recoup from not having to hire any employees and just taking the shifts ourselves. this is the classic American immigrant model and it's a classic for a reason. I would really hate trying to do all that horizontal organizing though (huge cost for me personally)

idk how any of those stuff works. my parents are from the managerial-intellegentsia officer class and are stupid about money from a weird combination of having too much of it and too little. the overeducated poor. food insecure people who get all the jokes on Frasier. extraordinarily weird class position, it's sort of like being in the circus or being a pickpocket. you can fool people into thinking you're wealthy when you aren't, which is why I'm so insane on here about grammar and spelling, because you don't know until you're actually on the other side of it how much your level of education affects your material existence, even if the education is DIY. I have been literally homeless for periods of time and have almost always been poor, and the amount of "skating by" you can do on good grammar and nice table manners is like a big secret no one tells you anymore because the boomers pretended they got rid of all that jive during the summer of love. people have gotten REALLY mad at me on here about this topic I think because they think I'm enforcing these cultural standards every time I try to teach people about them. I'm trying to warn you!!

think of it this way: how long is someone willing to let you stay in their coffee shop or diner or house if you're "acting poor", vs how long if you're charming and helpful and conscientious? if you're loud and using "low class" dialect vs if someone has at some point taught you to act fancy? this is extremely racialized obviously. I can't speak on that.

the communist coin op laundry could have a shuttle service and group wash nights where people can combine laundry to use the big washers and dryers for larger loads at lower total cost if they were willing to sort out their clothes at the end 😔

[tinderbox210]

Yes, I immediately got the Star Wars Outlaws Wild Card DLC because I couldn’t wait for more adventures of my fave trio. While I'm not that far in the game yet, it's everything I hoped for so far.

I love the setting of the fancy casino ship (which reminds me a bit of the cruise ship from The 5th Element) and I already got tons of ideas for Kay x ND-5 AUs based on the dlc.

Putting the ideas behind the cut because some spoilers included but first, don't they look good striding side by side into the casino like they own the place?

Okay now to ideas...

First I loved the little bits of ND & Nix interaction during the hyperspace jump showing how much ND has grown to care for Nix. The way he was so excited when it looked like Nix was flying the ship. That was just adorable, he's becoming such a pet person. He's like one step aways from buying Nix more cute little outfits.

I also loved the usual banter between Kay and ND. Like when she teased him at the reception and him begrudgedly going along with it, or when he "socialized" at the bar. I just love every interaction of them!

Only One Bed AU:

Kay asking for an upgrade and they actually get one but it's the honeymoon suite! There are no other rooms vacant and as a droid, ND wouldn't get one, so they have to share the room and all the best typical rom com stuff happens. ND turning awkwardly around when Kay’s changing clothes or catching a peak when she comes out of the shower (maybe the door malfunctions and just slides open at the right moment...). Kay not able to sleep with ND in the same room - or she does fall asleep and has some interesting dreams that ND can't ignore...

Also Kay going wild with the room service because she never had it!

Bar Date AU

That's it! That’s all I could think about when he said he's waiting at the bar. And with the way they made him lean so casually against the bar - oh the creators definitely knew what they were doing!

Fancy Attire AU

While I really like Kay’s new outfit, I would have also loved to see her in a fancy dress for the sabacc event, the smoking sight of her short circuiting ND's systems. ND in a suit would have been nice too.

Jealousy AU

Lando shamelessly flirting with Kay at the casino makes ND jealous.

Or it's Kay getting jealous when one of his contacts on the ship turns out to be ND's ex or when the droid running the casino ship takes a liking in ND.

One Night Stand AU

Kay and ND don’t know each other prior to meeting on the casino ship. They're working for different syndicates (like Mr & Mrs Smith) or ND is a free droid/still working for Jaylen. They meet at the bar and hook up.... and probably break the bed.

[dalekofchaos]

How do you fuck up a show about Boba Fett?

I will forever be baffled by how Filoni and Favreau botched Boba Fett's show nor will I ever forgive them for how they did Boba Fett dirty just to be used as a fucking stepping stone for Din and Grogu. Even worse is how Disney refuses to give Temuera Morrison the audience or time to grant him a season 2.

A Boba Fett show on paper should've been the easiest thing in the world. I already made a list of ways how season 1 could've been better. But here's a smaller list.

Boba Fett actually being a crime lord and acts like the ruthless bounty hunter only doing it on his terms

Give us flashbacks to Jango during the Mandalorian Civil War(bonus points. Jango killed Tor Viszla, but Deathwatch refused to give up the Darksaber. By rights Jango is the rightful ruler of the Darksaber and for that very reason is why the weapon is cursed with hints that because Boba is Jango's son, Boba Fett is destined to wield the Darksaber)

GIve us flashbacks of Daniel Logan during Boba's rise as a ruthless bounty hunter and you know, give us the cut Bounty Hunter arc via flashbacks

Keep the helmet on. He shouldn't even take it off for Fennec. If I wanted to see Temuera's face, I would advocate for a Captain Rex show. The mask IS BOBA'S FACE

Instead of being this dumbed down idiot who's more of a sheriff instead of a Godfather like criminal. Boba is 10 steps ahead of everyone. He knows how this game is played and will use the knowledge he's gained from his father and working with Jabba. Instead of being hunted down by the Syndicate, it's him hunting them down.

A good Boba Fett story is easy, it just needs proper execution.

He just needs to be a darker version of The Mandalorian. Instead of being on the run, he is hunting. Instead of showing mercy, he has little.

Where Din and Grogu are the heroes, Boba and Fennec are the clear seedier and morally grey figures.

Hell just make John Wick in space. Spice Syndicate gets ballsy and fucks up his little kingdom, so Boba Fett dons the helmet and doesn't take it off until he's dismantled the entire syndicate one boss per episode tracking them across their galactic network. And when the syndicate bosses thinks Boba's left them alive, Fennec is there to finish the job. Fennec's role is to assassinate targets that could cripple rival syndicates and enrich their own empire. You can have guest stars and cameos, which would be interesting to see pre-established characters react to his ruthless effective extermination. Hell, maybe some object so strongly they fight Boba Fett so the boss battle of an episode is against a good guy.

Or hell. If the rumors of Mace returning are true, maybe you could center the season around that. Mace Windu is Boba's Moby Dick and he's chasing him throughout the Outer Rim. But when he finds Mace, he's just a tired old man who cut himself off from the force after his failure. When the audience thinks Boba might forgive him and give up his vengeance, BAM! Boba shoots him dead. Boba has no mercy.

I mean this shit isn't hard to outline, which is why what we got was confusing.

Boba Fett in Mando was physically portrayed as even more of a threat than Din and took out SHIPS of stormtroopers single-handedly and morally he was honorable but still grey.

Now all of a sudden he's completely different. He constantly needs a bacta nap. He barely fires his weapons. He is easily duped by everyone. He wants to "rule with respect". He gets duped by everyone. And the out of place Mods.

You know what would've been an easy fix to all of this? No Din Djarin, no Grogu and it's all about Boba and Jango Fett.

Imagine instead of Din and Grogu. The Mandalorian was about Jango and Boba Fett. Jango is the Mandalorian and we see his back story and him training Boba.

It could’ve honestly been a generational story

S1: Jango story that fleshes out his time before the prequels to his death

S2: young Boba post prequels to his escape of the Pitt

S3 Boba’s journey post Pitt to after sequel timeline

[daydreamgoddess14]

Ted Lasso / Rebecca Welton Masterlist

FULL MASTERLIST

Tumblr & AO3 links included throughout.

* = Complete

🔥 = Smutty

Media Relations*

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3

Rebecca has an interview with a high profile magazine, some comments she makes about Ted and the accompanying photoshoot go viral around Richmond AFC.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, fluff & humour, general rating (language)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46196269/chapters/116299447

Home Time*

11 Hours on a bus home from Amsterdam gives Rebecca and Ted some time to catch up.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, fluff & humour, general rating (language)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46653061/chapters/117492853

Coming Clean*

From a @lilacmermaid25 prompt.

Roy decides to have it out with Rebecca about Ted, just as she decides to go and yell at him about Keeley. They meet in the middle for a very public argument.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, romance, idiots in love, general rating (language)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47382097

Run*

A kind of 3.12 fix it of sorts. The team decide they have to stop Ted from leaving.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, angsty humour, fluff, general rating (language)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47397514

Enough*🔥

CH 1 | CH 2

Rebecca tries to get over Ted's departure but struggles.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, post 3.12 fix it, angst with a happy ending, MY FIRST SMUT! 🙌, mature rating (seeexy tiiiiimes!)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47562343/chapters/119870686

Seeking Advice*

From a @lilacmermaid25 prompt.

5 times someone in Richmond needs Ted's advice, 1 time Ted needs some advice from Richmond.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, post 3.12 fix it, romantic fluff, general rating (language)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47643454

We lie awake in love and fear*🔥

CH 1 | CH 2

From a lilacmermaid25 prompt.

Ted walks into Rebecca's kitchen after the gas leak. He sees more leg than expected and short circuits his brain.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, set during 3.12, no happy ending for this fic - he still gets on the plane! But there will be smut in chapter 2 and a sequel is already planned 😊. Romantic fluff and angst, general rating for chapter 1 only (language), mature rating for chapter 2

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47691727/chapters/120213994

My bad habits lead to you*🔥

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6

Sequel to We lie awake in love and fear.

Taken from a lilacmermaid25 prompt: 5 times Ted comes back for a wedding, one time he comes back just because.

Ted Lasso/Rebecca Welton, post 3.12, cheating, smut, one night stand. Mature reading (sexy times, language)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47758657/chapters/120390469

The Syndicate*

Everyone in Richmond is shipping Ted and Rebecca long before there's anything to ship...

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48212014

Poker Face*🔥

Rebecca is in a terrible mood and only Ted knows why...

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48356254

Shaping Minds

CH 1 | CH 2 - coming soon!

TedBecca - obvs! Headmistress Rebecca Welton gets ready to welcome back her favourite year group for their last year of school, alongside new teacher, Ted Lasso.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48427027/chapters/122147269

Rebecca Welton's F*** You, Ted Tour*

Ted watches Rebecca try to move on with her life. Sort of.

Came outta nowhere, random funny & fluffy fluff.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48494932

Tedbecca Prompt Party 2023

Main link to the series on my AO3: HERE

Entry 1: Serenade - a karaoke night changes everything.

Entry 2: Making Prog-mess - Rebecca and Sassy talk about Sassy turning Ted down.

Entry 3: Not a Couple (no, really!) - 5 times someone mistakes Ted and Rebecca for a couple, and the one time someone didn’t believe that they actually are...

Entry 4: Matchy-Matchy - Henry needs to propose to Rebecca, she is going to be his stepmother after all!

Entry 5: Through the Window - Jamie accidently catches Ted and Rebecca in a retelling of the My Eyes scene from Friends

Entry 6: So Long... As You Love Me? - Rebecca tells Ted she loves him, but he doesn't want to ruin their friendship

Entry 7: Sing Your Own Kind of Song - Soulmate AU - you get stuck in your head the song your soulmate is singing. Who's singing what in Nelson Road?

Entry 8: The Name’s Welton, Rebecca Welton - Ted starts to think he might be seeing Rebecca everywhere - because he is!

Pt. 1 | Pt.2 - coming soon!

[poraphia]

alright so

The reader has been involved in the East L’manburg mafia since they were 17-19 years old (shortly before they met Wilbur). They work as a forger of signatures and documents, since they have a steady hand and artistic inclination (can’t draw that well though. Only can copy handwriting. Go figure.). maybe they were in juvie, maybe they were in a group home (thinking about the book “allegedly”), but whatever their situation was, the mafia helped them pay themselves out of it and land a steady part time career as a laboratory assistant (plus some money to enroll in university). they keep most of the details about their life hidden from everyone, even Wilbur. The only thing he knows is that they were in some sort of a group home, but the details are obscure— and they took a while to tell him that, too. They didn’t want the syndicate doing a background check on them and revealing some details they’d rather stay hidden. Tl;dr: lots of trust issues.

But Wilbur is so sweet, and Philza and Techno are great people, so they stick around. They learn to juggle their life with the mafia and their life with the Soots. The reader is convinced they’ll be fine, they can keep digging this hole for themselves without meeting any consequences. But consequences DO come, and they come in the form of a completely accidental car accident on the readers way to work. They are rushed to the hospital (Wilbur gets a phone call and is beside himself with worry), and are told that although their dominant hand will be fine in the long run, it will never be able to work properly again. So they can write— but they can no longer forge signatures and handwriting like they used to. Therefore, they are now a liability to the mafia. of course the mafia finds out, and has a little “chat” with them. The reader returns home with a black eye and a busted lip, but promises Wilbur that they just tripped and fell down the stairs. He almost believes them.

And then there’s the Actual Accident. Maybe a building collapses, maybe there’s a gas leak and the readers apartment explodes. Either way, charred bodies are found in the building, and the reader is presumed dead. they aren’t actually dead, having out on an errand when the accident occurs. They go back to the scene immediately, wanting to tell Wilbur that they’re okay—- but spot some mafia members digging around in the rubble. The reader overhears the mafia members pronounce them dead, and watches them leave. with this sight comes a few key realizations: first, they no longer have a bounty over their head. Normally, the mafia would wait a couple weeks before killing a target, just to get them to lower their guard. Now, though, the reader is truly safe. Second: if they asked protection from the syndicate, the Soots could be endangered. Wilbur and co. might be able to protect them physically, but the mafia would do anything to get to their target. Including doing extensive research on this protecting them. If the reader hid behind the Syndicate, the mafia could discover the Syndicates true identities and pawn the info off to the heroes. it wouldn’t be the first time that the mafia bribed and involved itself with the heroes committee.

So the reader doesn’t come back. They let Wilbur (and the mafia) think they have died.

then they probably sneakily kill off the mafia members during their “missing and presumed dead” period idk

anyway idk how the reader explains this to siren after he calms down. probably in a dark room, sitting with their backs together, facing opposite walls.

siren also probably asks something like “were you about to LET me kill you back there?”

angst haha

ALRIGHT CRACKING MY KNUCKLES AFTER SLAVING OVER SCHOOL WORK LETS DO THIS

btw OOOHH MY GOD this was such a juicy backstory literally love it the idea that reader has their own secret life (much like a lot of the characters in tcfsv) and its a whole gritty, not so fun, twisted story of its own just MWAH

---

It's been four hours since Siren used his honey-tone voice.

It's been four hours since Apollo found Siren hovering over the broken vigilante as blood dribbled from their lips and bruises brandished a fresh pink.

It's been four hours since Blade had to pin Siren down with Zehphyrus shielding (y/n) with his wings and Apollo healing various bruises scattered all over their body.

And most importantly, it's been four hours since Techno and Tommy threw them in Wil's rooms together and was told to talk it out, despite Wil's protest. He and (y/n) sat with their backs pressed together in the middle of his bedroom. (y/n) clutched what once was a rich hot chocolate, taking momentary sips between their words.

Wilbur sat there, rendered speechless as he listened to their pain-ridden words. It was a story not easily mumbled by them, and if anything, he was the first person to even hear what torture they had to go through.

Silent tears were streaming down (y/n)'s face, but they were determined to fight through their stutters and trembles.

"I-I know it was selfish." They whispered. Their hands wrapped tightly around the half empty mug. "T-That I should've called you to at least let you know I was safe but I--"

"Are they still alive?" Wilbur spoke gently, but his words, even without his siren voice, had so much power behind them. It sent a shiver up their spine.

"N-No. I killed them off before I even became a vigilante." They let out a dry chuckle, but nothing could soothe the thick tension in the room. It became quiet now. Only the humming of the a/c and the nocturnal crickets of the night filled the atmosphere.

Then, Wilbur spoke again.

"You," He paused as bit, almost as if registering his own words. "You almost let me kill you." He muttered almost breathlessly. (y/n) didn't speak. Instead, their silence said enough.

"Why?" He asked. "(y-y/n), don't you realize what I'm saying?!" Desperately he ran his fingers through his hair as attempt to soothe his own mania, but it was no use. (y/n) could feel his fidgeting as his back continued to brush against theirs. "Were you about to let me kill you back there?!"

Calmly, (y/n) placed their mug on the nearest surface, close enough where they could reach, before leaning back on Wil. His hyperventilating slowed, but his distressed fidgets maintained.

"Wil." They called out. He continued muttering to himself.

"Wil!" They exclaimed once again. Still, he ignored.

"WILBUR!"

his rocking stopped, but his head stayed buried between his knees. A moment of silence passed between them both, letting the crickets occupy their ears for just a few seconds.

Finally, (y/n) spoke up.

"I wouldn't have cared if you killed me." They said, leaning against his back. Their head rested against the back of his and they stared up at the ceiling.

"What..?" He muttered, his voice cracking.

"I wouldn't have cared. I wanted you to be happy-- not ruin your life. So if you saw that was the best judgement for me then.." They trailed off, letting their silence speak for themselves.

Carefully, Wilbur sat up before turning around to face them now. He placed a hand on their shoulder, making them turn around as well. Their features weren't exactly visible, but from how the moon defined little shadows on their face, he knew this was the lover he fell for long ago.

"I.." Looking at them as the moon shimmered in their eyes, his body was left breathless. His heart didn't have the courage to yell at them and prove his ego, but it also didn't have the strength to fight against their beauty either.

Gently, he placed a hand on their cheek, feeling the fresh tears but soft skin warming up his palm. (y/n), naturally, sunk into his touch, closing their eyes.

"Y-You've been through a lot." Wilbur softly muttered. (y/n) placed a hand over his, slightly nodding their head. "So I..-- and I mean-- it is pretty late." He was reluctant to his next choice of words, but nonetheless, he swallowed that huge lump in his throat.

"Why don't you stay over for the night?"

--

hi i do want to say that i worked on this four days ago and im really sorry for the delay and it may be a little rushed however @listenheresweaty literally did the carrying here im just kicking my feet and twirling my hair sooo YA ENJOY