#everyone is concerned with the coming of the Anti-Christ

[actual-corpse]

Bro...

My 60 yr old mom with an arthritic scoliosis spot fell on her back and came to me with the nastiest gash.

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

The anti-evangelizing attitude prevalent on progressive christian tumblr is problematic. And part of it most definitely has to do with a lot of progressive christians being universalists.

Now. I know this is a bit rich coming from me because I do not typically evangelize. My interest is much more in discussing the faith with people already in it. That said, it is one thing to not evangelize and it is another thing to be anti-evangelism.

And if you're a universalist, it makes sense why you wouldn't evangelize: everyone is going to be saved anyway right? If everyone is going to heaven why evangelize to them?

Except that's ridiculous. Not addressing the problems I have with universalism, assuming it's true that would not be a reason not to evangelize.

One of the definitions for "evangelize" is "convert or seek to convert (someone) to Christianity". But that's, I think, a poor tho technically accurate definition. A better definition is: "preach the Christian gospel." The gospel, ofc, is "the good news". More accurately this is "the good declaration". Because this isn't good news like "Oh the weather is 75 and sunny" this is good news like "Omg we have a new king who is going to execute justice, righteousness, and holiness."

In a lot of thought, sin is something inside of you that is wrong and depraved and etc etc. But that is not the only or even main way it's discussed in the bible. In Genesis 4 (where sin is first mentioned), it is a monster or beast that wants to devour you. One of Paul's favorite metaphors is that of a "Cosmic Tyrant". Sin is something that humanity and society on large is enslaved to, and Jesus has come to liberate them from that slavery so they can be who they were created to be: glorified images of God who rule and reign in the world through the power and love of God.

What does it matter if everyone is going to heaven after they die? Ofc on a certain level that matters, but that is not Jesus's concern, nor is that the primary concern of any biblical author. "Going to heaven" is not even a phrase used in the bible!! The focus is on life right here and right now. Union with God, the experience of his life-giving love and presence - that is available right now! Liberation from slavery to sin, the renewing of the mind, the enjoyment of the family of God - that is available right now and that is what Christ is offering people.

I understand not wanting to evangelize if your conception is "God is angry so God killed Jesus and not you so you can go to the good place when you die and not the bad." That's stupid and unbiblical. Plus, nonbelievers don't even know what "Jesus died for your sins" even means, so any conservative christians reading you've got to stop that it's also unhelpful.

I do not sing forever the praises of the God who didn't kill me. I dedicate my entire heart and being - my entire everything to the God who liberated me from slavery to Sin and Death by dying the death of a slave though he had no sin.

That is the gospel and should be preached to the ends of the earth.

[spacerockfloater]

You know what?

I get it, ok? I understand the concept of Rhysand being a morally grey character. I understand that SJM wanted him to be an anti-hero of sorts. I would be totally okay with him doing everything that he did and standing by his actions if he simply said “The only thing that concerns me is myself, my circle and my people. I’m here to protect my interests first and everything else second. I am no hero, I am just someone who puts himself and his sphere first. I am a selfish person and I’m totally okay with that. I do not need anyone’s approval.” I still wouldn’t be his biggest fan, because I do not tend to admire self serving people, but I would totally understand him. In fact, I might have done the same thing. I guess you can never know for sure what your reaction to something would be unless you actually end up in that situation. I get that the average person would protect themselves (themselves = them and their loved ones) but I do believe that admiration should be saved for people who go against the norm. People who actually put their foot down, say no, protest, fight back, risk their lives, experience loss for a greater good. That’s why I admire Khalias, Tarquin, Helion, Tamlin etc. Because they stood up to Amarantha while knowing the consequences of their actions. I wouldn’t admire Rhysand, but I’d support him if he just owned up to his shit and said “Yup, I’m your average person, I don’t care if I come off as the bad guy!”.

But he does not! He wants everyone to applaud him and thank him and feel like they owe him and appreciate him and and and and… Jesus Christ man, you did the bare minimum and you did it all when you had nothing to lose! Thank you so much that you convinced that frigid bitch to murder two dozens of children instead of me and my family, of course I am now forever in your debt! Relax. You were able to talk Amarantha out of directly harming the other High Lords only after you harmed others to gain her favour and you saved the High Lords only because it served you better to keep them alive instead of some irrelevant children fae. I’m sure that your people should be thanking you because you did it all for them after all, but count me the fuck out of it.

Last but not least: ACOTAR Feyre was, obviously, a hero. She was a morally good character. She sacrificed herself for people she didn’t even know. I’m not gonna debate that. I actually loved her in the first book. However, I think she went through a drastic change after her metamorphosis. Her “human heart” is actually no longer human to say the least. I’m not even gonna elaborate on how she became this cruel, unforgiving person that only cared about how people treated her, or how disrespectful she is towards other people like Tarquin because Rhysand made her feel entitled to do so, or how she is responsible for the destruction of two courts that simply seemed like collateral damage if it meant that she would get her revenge on Tamlin. I’m simply going to say that logically speaking, since Feyre stands 100% besides Rhys and everything he did and supports him, she’s also a morally grey person AT BEST, though I do tend to think of both of them as villains because after all, the very definition of a villain is “someone defined by their acts of selfishness, evilness, arrogance, cruelty, and cunning” and like, come on, this screams Feysand.

The term morally grey is so overused. Someone who’s selfish and cunning and cares mostly about themselves is, at least partially, a bad person. A morally grey character is at least half a villain. When did we actually start to equate anti heros with heros?

[linalina-universe]

Will we see the Apocalypse of John Play out in our lifetime? (CW End times Talk/speculation)

By the Prayers of our Holy Fathers,

Lord Jesus Christ have Mercy upon us and save us.

The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.

This post concerns the coming apocalypse, Given to us by Saint John the Evangelist, and St.Daniel the eunuch Prophet.

Below Very Recent number of

Videos on the push for the Third Temple by Zionists.

Playlist

Beloved sisters and brothers, I am going to be Direct here.

When they build that Temple, and worship begins.

Which will happen.

The Lawless one will rule for about 3 1/2 years then desecrate the temple.

They will call him Messiah, But he is the Final Anti-Christ.

Yes THE ANTI-CHRIST.

But do not worry for he will reign for a short period and will be struck down by Christ Jesus.

You hear about from popular media. "The Omen."

The Man that will sway the world, where we get 666 From.

He will be accompanied by a False Prophet as well who will do his best to deceive the world. The False Prophet will implement the mark of the beast. Do no accept it.

GO TO CHURCH!

(One that accepts you for you.)

Receive the Holy Sacraments.

Baptism,Eucharist, Confession,etc

Repent of past transgressions.

(Who you have hurt in the past)

Seek Jesus.

(For there is peace and Love within him.)

He even loves us queer outcasts.

The people who are building this temple are Zionists.

They do not believe in Jesus Christ.

They will use you as a means to an end if you let them.

Their messiah is man made and not divine like the Christ.

If you see the Genocide of the Palestinians you can see through the falsehood of Zionism! Be vigilant.

Do not Hold hate in your heart for people.

But Know that any claim of a new "Jewish Messiah." Is not Jesus. It is the Son of Perdition fortold in the scriptures.

Do not accept him, even if it means martyrdom.

==============================================

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

=============================================

"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."

=============================================

Jesus therefore answered and said to them, “Do not murmur among yourselves. No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him; and I will raise him up at the last day. It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Therefore everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to Me. Not that anyone has seen the Father, except He who is from God; He has seen the Father.

Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me has everlasting life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and are dead. This is the bread which comes down from heaven, that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread that I shall give is My flesh, which I shall give for the life of the world.”

The Jews therefore quarreled among themselves, saying, “How can this Man give us His flesh to eat?”

Then Jesus said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For My flesh is food indeed, and My blood is drink indeed.

He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. As the living Father sent Me, and I live because of the Father, so he who feeds on Me will live because of Me. This is the bread which came down from heaven—not as your fathers ate the manna, and are dead. He who eats this bread will live forever.

=============================================

Help us, Save us, and Keep, us oh God By They Grace.

Lord have mercy upon us sinners.

[pugzman3]

My friend, it wasn't just the Jews who were responsible for Christs death but the whole world. He came to die for ALL our sins that ALL may be saved. He was crucified by the gentiles. anti-Semitism is never good....they are still Gods chosen people.

That is true but that isn't the point of the post. You are correct, Jesus came to die for the sins of the world. Yes he did 100%.

But thebpointnof the post is another piece of a bigger picture. And I will say this to be clear, God is no respecter of person and neither am I. Now, what you just threw down was a conditioning. And I've had Jews try the same thing on me. Speaking truth is not antisemitic. Anyone can go to the Gospels and read that Pilot wanted to release Jesus, but the Jewish leaders (Pharisees, Sadducees, Sanhedrin) pushed him to do it, threaten to stir the people, pulled the "ceasar is king" card, and threatened the people if they didn't side with them. So Pilot turned him over to be killed.

Now, the point of it was more pointing to the Pope and vatican. One pope going against scripture (concerning the very death of Christ of all things), no pope afterwards rebuking it. This should be very telling to anyone who claims to be a Christian. This also adds more clarity to the union of Catholics, Jews, and Muslims that is now taking place.

The last thing, and this will be harsh but it is truth. God's people, are the ones who claim and follow Jesus Christ. Whether Jew or Gentile. That was ALWAYS the plan. Jews were the start, given the oracles of God, to be a light for the Gentiles. But there is a new covenant now per Jeremiah 31, repeated throught the New Testement. No one lives without Jesus Christ. And there is so much twisted stuff out there that has people convinced otherwise this way or that.

Lastly this. I strongly suggest you, and everyone examine how much they have been conditioned. Because we are pressured constantly to think one way or another, and none of those align with the true Gospels. And the days will come when you stand for the word of God and bear the brunt from the world, or you will cave in to the conditioning and persecut thise who do not. It's already happened, but that in itself is conditioning everyone for the big one.

I appreciate your sincerity and hope you know I was trying to return it and not come across too blunt, I do that sometimes. Also hope it clears up why I made that post. Take care.

[destinyimage]

Satan’s Accusing You from Heaven—Shut Him Up!

First and foremost, the Lord began to show me that the word satan in Hebrew means ���the accuser or adversary.”

In the Hebrew language and culture, everything has a hidden meaning, especially the name of a person or thing. The word adversary comes from the Greek word anti-dikos. Dikos is the Greek word for rights as in one’s legal rights. Essentially, an anti-dikos is someone or an entity that infringes on your legal rights. This understanding positions satan as a legal opponent more than a street fighter who hates the believer.

In Hebrew, the name of a person or entity is meant to capture the spiritual essence, meaning, destiny and nature of a thing. So by calling lucifer, “satan,” which also means accuser, God is telling us a mouthful, concerning what lucifer has become and his primary assignment on earth after his fall from Heaven. An accuser in any legal system is essentially someone who brings charges against you that results in a prosecution or lawsuit.

The Holy Spirit said to me, “Francis, even though lucifer was cast out of Heaven (meaning he lost his residency in Heaven), he nevertheless has access to only one part of Heaven until the consummation of this age of sin. God has given him a limited access to the Courts of Heaven.” I was blessed and stunned at the same time. The Lord showed me that no self-respecting judge or judicial system would allow a trial to proceed without first seating both the prosecution and the defense (advocate). Satan is the prosecutor as he is the one who files charges of sinful behavior against the saints in the Courts of Heaven.

John the revelator clearly captures this aspect of satan’s work in the book of Revelation 12:10 (AMP):

Then I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, “Now the salvation, and the power, and the kingdom (dominion, reign) of our God, and the authority of His Christ have come; for the accuser of our [believing] brothers and sisters has been thrown down [at last], he who accuses them and keeps bringing charges [of sinful behavior] against them before our God day and night.”

One would be tempted to ask, “Why would Heaven need a court system in the first place, especially after Jesus paid the price for our sins on the cross?” In answer to this question, the Lord said to me, “The death of Jesus for humankind’s sins provided a remedy for sins committed; it did not, however, stop the Kingdom of God from being what it has always been—a sovereign government and country founded on righteousness and justice. So, no self-respecting government would sit idly by while people continue to break and violate the laws of its country with impunity, even in the name of grace. This is a recipe for anarchy.”

The Holy Spirit then reminded me of this verse in 1 John 3:4 (AMP), “Everyone who practices sin also practices lawlessness; and sin is lawlessness [ignoring God’s law by action or neglect or by tolerating wrongdoing—being unrestrained by His commands and His will].” So essentially sin is the transgression of the laws of the Kingdom of God. Consequentially, the only place where broken laws of a country can be adjudicated is inside that country’s court system.

If you break the laws of the United States, you can’t be tried in an Australian court. As a result, most countries have established extradition treaties with other nations. This then begs the question, if the laws of the Kingdom of Heaven are broken by people on earth, why would we expect God to prosecute these cases in an earthly court? Earthly courts have zero jurisdiction over violations of the laws of the Kingdom of God, just as Australian courts have zero jurisdiction over violations of the laws of the United States.

After the Holy Spirit led me down this path of thinking, the understanding of the Courts of Heaven became a settled issue! After this the Holy Spirit said to me, “Francis, now that you understand the Courts of Heaven, I want you to know that satan is an officer of the Courts of Heaven, as both the tempter and prosecutor. He will retain this position until the consummation of the age of sin. Then he and his fallen angels and all the children of disobedience will be cast into the lake of fire and brimstone.” Wow—glory to God! His wisdom is past all human comprehension.

Satan: The Double Dealer

Then Jesus was led by the [Holy] Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. After He had gone without food for forty days and forty nights, He became hungry. And the tempter came and said to Him, “If You are the Son of God, command that these stones become bread” (Matthew 4:1-3 AMP).

After I discovered that satan is an officer of the Courts of Heaven, it also quickly dawned on me that since he is also the tempter, it means satan is a double-dealer! In Matthew 4:1-3, he was working hard to tempt Jesus, but I am sure that had the Lord fallen for the temptation, satan would have run into the Courts of Heaven to accuse Him before God for responding to the temptation. That’s exactly what he does with all the saints around the world. How many times have we fallen for the temptation only to be overwhelmed with feelings of guilt and condemnation in the aftermath? Not to mention some of the serious consequences that followed our falling for the temptation. The curious case of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden quickly comes to mind. So in the Courts of Heaven the only prosecutor is the tempter himself!

Unfortunately for us, when we respond to the devil’s temptations, satan has every legal right to come before God and bring forth accusations against our sinful behavior. Notwithstanding that we are under the dispensation of grace. This is because the Lord never intended for us to use His grace as a cloak of licentiousness. Jude, the brother of Jesus, says it this way in Jude 1:4 (NLT):

I say this because some ungodly people have wormed their way into your churches, saying that God’s marvelous grace allows us to live immoral lives. The condemnation of such people was recorded long ago, for they have denied our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ.

Satan the Prosecutor

One day the members of the heavenly court came again to present themselves before the Lord, and the Accuser, Satan, came with them. “Where have you come from?” the Lord asked Satan. Satan answered the Lord, “I have been patrolling the earth, watching everything that’s going on” (Job 2:1-2 NLT).

I finally understood why and what satan was doing in Heaven in the first and second chapters of Job. As the prosecutorial officer of the Court, he came to present cases in the Courts of Heaven against God’s children, based on irrefutable evidence of sinful behavior that he and his network of familiar spirits had gathered. How does satan gather this evidence? By doing a forensic search of human bloodlines and lineages for unresolved cases of iniquity and transgression.

In many cases, satan does not have to patrol our generational bloodlines to gather the evidence he needs to forge a formidable accusation (charge) against us. Our personal propensity to yield to satan’s many temptations gives him all the evidence he needs, especially if we refuse to repent or excuse our sinful behavior. Wow, the whole world of the Courts of Heaven and satan’s role in it came alive to me. I saw it! I understood for the first time that satan is more of a legal adversary than a mere street fighter. Satan loves to operate in the legal realm. I finally understood the book of Job. The Courts of Heaven had finally been unveiled—and there was no going back!

Can God Boast about You in His Court?

Then the Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered My servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, one who fears God and shuns evil?” (Job 1:8 NKJV)

Interestingly, God is the One who brought up Job’s name to satan. God’s question to satan, “Have you considered my servant Job?” can also be read as “Have you investigated My servant Job?” This is a divine indication that satan places people under investigation before filing charges (accusations) against them in the Courts of Heaven. What’s of note in the Scripture passage in Job 1 is that God did not bring up Job’s name to invite satan to attack him. God was reveling in Job’s devotion. Truthfully speaking, God does glory in men and women who are totally devoted to Him above everything else in this world. Unfortunately, God doesn’t have too many devotees like Job.

On a different note, the reason the Lord was bragging about Job’s devotion to Him was to show us the godly characteristics in Job’s life, which make it difficult for the devil to destroy or delay the fulfillment of our God-given destiny. These godly traits are also important for those of us who want to be effective officers of the Courts of Heaven. I will now list Job’s godly traits for your prayerful consideration:

There is none like Job on the earth

A blameless man

An upright man

One who fears God

A man who shuns evil

Manifesting these godly qualities that were all actively present in Job’s life causes us to grow spiritually, as well as gives us a place of spiritual stature in the Courts of Heaven. Spiritual stature in the Courts of Heaven gives us a position of favor in God’s presence to present cases that are heard and answered in record time, because of our lifestyle of total obedience and devotion to God.

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[whatisonthemoon]

A Mythology of Jesus

For those who have a conviction in Jesus and find themselves informed and inspired by the biblical narrative, here’s a theologically progressive perspective on the life, person, and mission of Jesus:

The story for me goes something like: Jesus had an intimate, dialectical relationship with religious mythology, and through this found a way to build political power from the people. His relationship to God formed him into an organizer. He revealed a gospel that was material, that sought justice at all costs, that prioritized the poor and oppressed—all of it faithful to the Spirit and tradition of the Scriptures.

As Jesus sent out bands of trained disciples—that he faithfully served and loved for years—to do as he did and serve the people, provide political education, as well as pastoral support to anti-imperialists, his movement grew and masses were growing in political consciousness. Those same masses crowded the streets to welcome him into Jerusalem, declaring him the Son of God.

Perhaps, in the mind of Jesus, this moment of mass-support gave the movement permission to escalate. Jesus preached, openly declaring God’s coming judgment to the rich, the religious hypocrites in power, and even to the occupying Roman Empire. Soon after, him and his followers occupied the temple, using force to expel merchants, and all those defiling the temple. This was too far for the religious authorities that benefited from corruption in the temple.

Jesus witnessed support for his movement waning as various leaders denounced him, calling him possessed and a false prophet. Eventually even his closest comrades, those he spent years teaching, traveling with, abandoned him. Empire’s representative, Pontius Pilate, caved into the demands of the religious authorities to torture and execute Jesus.

In the wake of his death, a Resurrection was experienced, a Martyred God was declared, and this apocalyptic movement, both religious and political, spread throughout the Roman Empire, quickly deviating into many forms, eventually being co-opted by the dominant forces of society, including Empire itself.

But is Jesus God? Did he rise from the dead? Did he literally heal the sick with a single command?

Sometimes, I think so. But never without a wariness, knowing what we take as orthodoxy has been formed by suspicious (if not apostate) powers.

I’ve met the love of God—sprawled out, face-down during a revival, shaking with convicting mercy—and when a co-worker saved my ass from being fired—and when I first marched with radicals, openly rebuking the state, the rich, and our so-called leaders, and calling for a revolution. I want everyone to experience God—this warm humming sitting beneath all things, reaching for truer possibilities—even if they can’t name it as God.

For the God of Christ’s insurrection, this isn’t a concern.

Jesus came to free the prisoners, to tear down the tyrants, to heal the sick, and to lift up the oppressed. The good news was material, both destructive and creative, embodying the fullness of God’s transformative judgment. We can theorize all day about how God’s judgment is realized, and attempt to map out the after-life—but the revolution doesn’t need more Protestants. The kind of Christians the revolution needs are those who know God in the masses. May our theology never distract us from the need to faithfully build a world where exploitation is crushed and it is easy to do good. May God’s love form us into committed revolutionaries, that we too can be like Christ, faithful to the Way of liberation in the midst of persecution. May we forge that new and better world we believe to be possible.

Originally posted here: https://friendlyfirecollective.wordpress.com/2019/10/06/a-mythology-of-jesus/

[actual-changeling]

If this weren't my own post I'd feel about about the reblog I am about to write because this will get long—but since it is, I do not.

Let's dive into it because I think there have been a few misinterpretations.

… This doesn't make sense. That's like saying their relationship is toxic or abusive bc ngl, using love as a way to control another person is fucked up

Yes and no. I would not say it is about love itself but more about the expression of it, and while it can be abusive, most of the time it's simply an unhealthy part of a relationship dynamic that the people involved need to work on.

If two people get into a fight, one might be upset and withhold affection that is otherwise a normal, daily thing. There's a difference between needing space to process and think and refusing to listen to your partner to sulk in a corner, to kick them out of the bedroom, to not offer them a kiss when they leave for work for no reason.

In people's brain withholding affection is seen as an appropriate punishment for causing negative emotions. Does that automatically make that relationship abusive? No. But it's not healthy either. I know exactly what it looks like when this is part of an abusive dynamic and it's not pretty.

Aziraphale doesn't use it as a carrot or a stick. Aziraphale can't control Crowley any more than Crowley can control Aziraphale.

Yes, technically the opportunities for that are equal, and yet Crowley seldom tries to manipulate or control Aziraphale, while there is canonical evidence that Aziraphale does it with Crowley.

And Aziraphale not knowing love as a comfort — like he does. He's probably the foremost occult being who knows what comfort feels like.

Love as comfort—mostly for himself. When he does offer it to Crowley, however, it is conditional. Just look at the first argument they have about Jimbriel, Aziraphale not only refuses to take his concerns seriously but also kicks him out. The message here is very clear: If you do not do what I want then you will no longer get the comfort I allowed you before.

There are many good aspects of their relationship, of course there are! However, there are also many unhealthy and outright bad parts too, and they are such an intrinsic pert of their dynamic it relies on those to function—which is bad.

Crowley would not be half as obsessed as he is with Aziraphale if he wasn't bringing him refuge and safety and companionship and comfort.

To a degree, yes. But once again, there is canonical evidence that Crowley does not and cannot trust Aziraphale with emotional matters. Look at season two: Aziraphale constantly and continuously degrade his fears, any attempt at talking about them is either met with dismissive annoyance or "you're being silly".

Everyone is always on about Crowley not talking to Aziraphale about his trial in heaven, but if you were in his position, would you tell him? Would just sit down with the person who yes, is your friend and who loves you, but still calls you a demon, evil, a liar? Who has no concept of falling and hell and historically hasn't taken you seriously when you tried to explain it?

There are different levels of safety and comfort, and they have some but not others.

"it was never heaven and hell keeping them apart, not really. unless they disturb the cosmic dials they are more or less allowed to just live." no the fuck they weren't.

Yes they were left alone. They were. It's right there in canon.

There has always been an apocalypse on the horizon, but in the six thousand years leading up to that? Heaven in particular did not give a single shit unless it interfered with their plans, e.g Job and later the Anti-Christ. While Hell cares about collecting souls and have a way tighter grip on Crowley, heaven is so far removed from earth and what he is doing on earth that they couldn't blend in with humans even if they wanted to.

Aziraphale's qualms about their relationship come from within, not heaven's control over him—which, again, is almost non-existent until apocalypse Nr. 1. His trauma influences it, yes, but there's a difference between heaven-based trauma contributing to his internal moral dilemma and Crowley being tortured in hell for doing one good deed.

Aziraphale simply does not understand what it means to be a demon, but he wants to be a 'good angel'—and good angels do not work with demons. There are always two main convictions butting heads:

Heaven is cruel vs. Heaven has to be fundamentally good.

Crowley is a demon and evil vs. I have seen him do kind things which demons cannot do.

His solution is to separate them and peel back the layers depending on what he needs/wants in that specific moment.

Like Aziraphale extending a wing over not only over Crowley but also Adam and Eve was confirmed to be intentional by the director. It's already a declaration

It's simply a neat little thing they did to show that to us as the audience, yes, but it is not something Aziraphale did on purpose? Subtext, that's all, so I don't see the relevance.

Edit: and another thing. "they both learnt their love from Heaven and it shows" so you could leverage that against Aziraphale and Crowley, who has more less manage to distance themselves to some degree from Heaven and Hell and work closely with humans, BUT NOT AGAINST GABRIEL AND BEELZEBUB????

Of course it also applies to those two, no one ever said otherwise? The main difference is that Beez and Gabriel love each other like a demon and an angel, their concept of partnership is fundamentally different from Crowley's and Aziraphale's, which is based on human love.

Crowley wants to break out of his role as a demon, Beez doesn't care! They are each other's heaven and hell, they do not mind or give a single shit about the whole demon/angel dynamic. Same with Gabriel, he still sees himself as an angel, he just doesn't care about his former job, and whatever they get up to in the stars is going to be very different from Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship.

To summarize: The original points still stand.

Of course there is nuance to it and discussion to be had, but that should be taken as a normal part of any post without everyone having to put a "this is not a black and white issue" disclaimer at the top.

they love each other and that's the problem.

i don't mean love in the romantic sense, i mean it in a "we have been alone together for six thousand years" way. you do not simply give that up, no matter how much you hurt, how many rejections you need to experience, how much time you spend apart.

they clung to each other until aziraphale asked for the one thing in the universe crowley cannot and will not do (and rightfully so).

we could have been us—i would have done almost everything for you, but not this. never this.

aziraphale loves him, and he treats him the way he does because he loves him and despite loving him, both at the same time. it doesn't excuse it, mind you, but it makes it feel even more painful. he loves him, underneath it all, and yet he cannot express it, not the way he is.

it was never heaven and hell keeping them apart, not really. unless they disturb the cosmic dials they are more or less allowed to just live. crowley tried to make him see what he was forced to learn what he fell, he gave him the chance he never had—and aziraphale did not take it.

crowley kept offering because he loves him. aziraphale kept trying because he loves him.

yet in the end, love did not and could not have saved them, and that is the real tragedy of it all. they had to part this way. they are so twisted around one another that they were suffocating, the space to breathe is long overdue for both of them.

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

Jason is ruining me this season because despite all the bad shit he’s done I just want to hug him & let him know he is wanted 😫

Okay but like what if Crane actually just left Jason at Snowy Cones tied to the chair and the Titans get him back or something like that somehow they get him away from Crane & back and there’s a fight about what to do with him (mainly Gar & reader fighting to like at least get him clean before doing anything else) and idk just something soft with Jason detoxing and reader helping him and showing him people do care about him 🥺

THIS 😭

➣ pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

➣ fluff / angst

➣ word count: 1.2k

come join the titans sleepover!

Jason looked horrible.

You hadn't seen him since he left San Francisco with Rose, and though that was months ago, you hadn't stop thinking about him. You were mad, to say the least, but all of that was pushed aside when you heard the devastating news about him, one that almost broke you.

Redhood was the worst thing to become of Jason. You felt helpless and so aggravated that he was doing such things, but at the same time, you knew it was not his fault. It was Crane's, and everyone knew it too.

Tonight's mission was to take down Crane and 'Redhood's' mission to distribute the anti-fear drug, putting all your energy into fighting the guards. Perhaps it was your anger towards Jason that got you through. He had become the person that he solemnly swore he'd never become. But here he is.

But as your nearly teary eyes gaze sullenly at his sunken face, which is wet with drool and god knows what else, you know the right thing to do.

"Jesus Christ," Gar mumbles as he stands beside you, looking at the mess of a boy Crane left behind.

"We need to get him out of here," you glance over at him. He nods in agreement, unable to peel his eyes away.

"Tell me what we need to do,"

"Guys, stop." Dick cautions, putting his hands on either of your shoulders. Gar and you look at each other before glancing back at Dick. "It could be a trap."

"We can't just leave him here!" You shriek in disbelief.

"We don't know what Crane has up his sleeve right now. The best thing for us to do is to leave him here."

"Absolutely fucking not," Gar grits his teeth, knuckles almost clenching in a fist. "He's coming with us."

Jason coughs himself awake, eyes rolling as he slips in and out of consciousness. You crouch beside him, taking his hand in yours.

"Jason, can you hear me?" You ask softly, ignoring Dick's sigh of discontentment from behind you. Jason groans, eyes slowly dragging up to meet yours.

"[y/n]," he slurs with a raspy voice. You gulp and pull yourself together, knowing that now is not the time to have a breakdown.

"Yes, darling, it's me. We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"

"Hey, buddy, you doing alright?" Gar kneels on the other side of him. You run out to the car, only to return with a wet cloth and further bickering from Gar and Dick.

"We're at least cleaning him up," you snarl at him before crouching beside Jason. In your head, you count to ten, trying to find anything to distract your eyes from pricking with tears. God, he really does look awful up close. You dab his chin, wiping off the drool that drips from the corner of his mouth.

"Uh, what is going here?" Kory asks with Conner and Blackfire behind her. She stops in her tracks when she notices you and Gar, tending to Jason with such care, a sense of fear runs over her.

"I'm trying to warn them, but they're not listening," Dick murmurs to her.

"Guys, no, stop it. We need to go," she tries and pulls you away from Jason.

"Get off of me!" You almost yell, swatting her away before putting the cloth down. You move behind him and help Gar untie the rope from around Jason's waist.

"Stop and think for a second!" Kory snaps. "He could be a weapon; you don't know that."

"Yeah, and you don't either," your voice slick with venom. You were so sick of everyone blaming Jason for everything when none of them even remotely believed that they had something to do with his meltdown. "We are getting him out of here. End of story."

"[y/n]…" Dick sighs, approaching you and Gar slowly.

"No, enough. I've had it with all of you giving up on Jason like he's some piece of disposable waste. What was your speech a year ago about not giving up on family? You really seem to live up to that, now, don't you," Gar snaps.

"I-"Dick sighs again. "I know, okay. But as I said before, we all know he's working under the guise of Crane. We don't know if Jason is just a ploy, okay? It's safer—"

"For who? You or Jason? Because from the way I see it, Jason is being manipulated. You said it yourself. The best thing we can do is save him now before it's really too late," you sigh. "Now, can we please stop fighting and help him into the car, for fucks sake," you roll your eyes, having enough of this bickering. The sooner you all get out, the better.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Barbara helps you hook Jason up to an IV drip. He lays in his bed, so entirely out of it, you're not even sure if he's ever going to be okay again.

"Are you okay?" Babs consoles, knowing that this has certainly not easy for you. She knew you have been taking this the hardest out of everyone. Being one of Jason's closest friends, your time in Gotham has been spent grieving and wishing you were all in San Francisco and normal again.

Your lip trembled, eyes overflowing with tears that wet your cheeks. You practically collapse on the chair beside the bed, and Babs pulls you into her.

"I hate seeing him like this," you sob, arms stretching around her. She rubs your back, letting out gentle coos to help you calm down.

"You should go join the others," you smile weakly, pulling away and wiping your eyes.

"Are you sure? I can stay here if you need me to?"

"It's okay. Please, go enjoy tonight's successes."

She rubs your arm, apology laced in her touch before she makes her way to the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Your head drops onto the mattress beside his body. How could you have let this happen? Was this your fault too?

“[y/n]?” Jason coughs, and you swear you've never lifted your head faster.

"Hey," you smile weakly, taking his hand in yours. "How're you doing?"

"Oh, you know, pretty damn fucking great if you ask me," he scoffs. You don't mean to, but a minor chuckle releases from your throat.

"Here, you should probably have some water," you hand him a glass, and he looks at it with caution. "I haven't done anything to it if that's what you're concerned about."

He hums before gulping it all down.

"Jason," your lips trembles once again. "I'm so sorry."

Jason doesn't say anything. He rests back onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why're you doing this? Don't think I'm coming back to you guys because I'm not."

"Because I care."

"Do you?" He turns to look at you.

"You know," you chuckle, looking down at your fingers. "I had the biggest crush on you. Of course, I never had the guts to say anything; you were too special of a friend for me to ruin that."

"How do I know that you're not lying?"

"Because I'm the one who saved you back there. I wasn't going to leave you, I would never to that."

There is a moment of silence that surpasses you both; neither of you knew what to say. Was he to thank you or be mad at you?

"I should probably let you rest," you cough slightly before standing up.

"Wait," Jason takes your hand in his. "Stay. Please?"

═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

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═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Seven Demon Lords’ Pet Human

So I’m quite fond of the idea that the lesser demons see MC as the brothers’ dumb pet human up until MC is revealed to be a five star badass who can control the brothers on a whim. But Himiko isn’t okay with being referred to as anyone’s “pet”, and after a very bad day, she’s going to let the brothers know that.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Genre: Half Crack Half Fluff

Warning: This story features my MC, who uses she/her pronouns, if that makes you uncomfortable no harm no foul, see you next time

“Just their pet human,”

“Aw, they let their cute widdle pet walk around all by herself~.”

“The brothers’ new pet looks so delicious…”

Himiko Nanami was not one for demeaning nicknames. She had told Luke over and over again that the reason people kept calling him a chihuahua was because he gave them a reaction, but she just couldn’t follow her own advice. A pet… the brothers’ pet… what complete and utter shit.

She had forged pacts with the seven lords of Hell. She had escaped death more times than she could count. On her first day at RAD, she had gouged out a demon’s eye with her headband for trying to eat her. She had walked Cerberus and survived. Himiko was no dainty little pet.

It was a tragedy that some of the demons that wandered the halls of RAD couldn’t see that. Not all the demons were irredeemable anti-human trash, some were quite sweet. But it only took one weird squishy grape to make Himiko refuse to eat the rest of the bowl. That’s how that saying goes, right?

It was supposed to be a good day, it was a Friday for Christ’s sake! But no, the world at large was conspiring to make Himiko’s forehead vein burst.

First period with Satan went normally for the most part, until the two paired up for an assignment and Himiko decided to give Satan a few pats on the head. A few snickers coming from a few rows behind her drew her attention, and right after Satan left to use the bathroom, that’s when she heard it. The first comment of the day.

“Aww, a pet petting her master, how sweet.”

When Satan returned, Himiko was holding a broken pencil.

To her credit, she didn’t dignify those idiots with a response, but their comment managed to burrow its way into her brain and settle there right when she snapped the pencil.

Second period shouldn’t have been so shitty, Himiko had friends in that class. Friends other than the brothers and the other exchange students, but no. Everything sucks in the Devildom.

Paimon had so sweetly offered to share some of his chips with her when he heard she had skipped breakfast. Himiko was in the middle of happily chowing down when some asshole decided to ruin the cute friendship moment.

“Geez Pai, I thought you’d be more responsible than that~.” A demoness a few rows ahead cooed. “Feeding other people’s pets without asking~.”

Paimon choked on the chip he was chewing on while Himiko gave the demoness a bone chilling glare.

“Sh-she’s not- I’m not-”

“How about you mind your own fucking business?”

The demoness only rolled her eyes and turned back to giggling with her friends. It was truly a shame that at least 60% of all the demon ladies in the school were incredibly mean and/or homicidal, a shame for Himiko because she’s a raging bisexual.

With her appetite lost, Himiko forfeited the rest of the chips to Paimon.

Lunch went by as normal as it could have gone. She sat with the brothers as usual and happily watched their antics. When she left the table to throw her trash away was when all hell broke loose.

“-Pet,”

“-Pet…”

“-Pet.”

“-Pet!”

All those damned whispers reached Himiko’s ears and if she had any less patience she would have pulled her hair out and screamed. When she got back to the table, she spent the rest of her lunch period in silence.

What’s worse was that her next class was with Solomon, and the only seat available was next to him. Great…

“Grouchy today, ms. Nanami?”

“Annoying today, mr. Wizard?”

Solomon let out a quiet and carefree laugh and rested his head on his hand. “Oh Himiko, you know I’m always up for being a little annoying.”

Himiko rolled her eyes and tried to pay attention to the teacher. “Whatever…”

Class went on, but Solomon didn’t let up on his quiet pestering.

“Himiiiiii, tell me what’s wrong, I won’t laugh.”

“Go to hell.”

“Poor choice of words, you’re there with me.”

“I hate you.”

“So mean, I’m just trying to help. Solomon the Wise is known for giving great advice!”

Himiko turned and looked at the immortal sorcerer next to her and saw his pitiful attempt at what looked like puppy dog eyes. She rolled her eyes again and turned back to her work.

“I thought you were known for ordering a baby to be sawed in half.”

“Hey!” Solomon huffed, crossing his arms. “The baby did not get sawed in half. The saner of the two women got to keep the baby, I was being smart.”

“Sure, sure.” Himiko couldn’t hold back a bit of a smile. To her own surprise, Himiko began to weigh the pros and cons of actually telling Solomon what was going on. Hm, on one hand, Solomon was the only other human that might possibly understand what Himiko was dealing with, on the other hand, Solomon was a known shifty bastard and could barely be counted as human at this point. In the end, human solidarity won out.

“Solomon,” Himiko began. “Have you ever gotten called a pet before? Like a demon’s pet..?”

Solomon thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Probably. I’ve been alive too long not to have been called every name under the sometimes lack of sun, but I’ve always been more widely known as someone who makes demons into his pets.”

“Mmm, sure.”

“But fret not Himiko, those closest to you know the truth. You’re no pet.”

Not exactly the heaps of comfort Himiko wanted, but at least Solomon answered truthfully and didn’t say anything that would get on her nerves-

“I don’t know why you’re so upset about that nickname though, you’d look amazing in a collar.”

For what happened to poor Solomon right after he said that, let’s just say a palm reader could read Himiko’s future off Solomon’s face.

In fourth period, Himiko had to hold herself back from bitchslapping someone else who decided it would be a good idea to test her. A quick word of advice to anyone in the Devildom who would like to survive an encounter with Himiko, never, ever, fuck with her headband.

“You fiendish demon!” Luke yapped, trying to help get Himiko’s headband back from the nasty awful no good demon who decided to pluck it off her head and hold it out of reach. “Give that back!”

“N’awwwwww, pet buddies!” The taller demon laughed and dangled the headband a little closer. “So cute! Someone get a picture for Devilgram-”

Luke slammed his foot directly into the demon’s kneecap. The demon practically shrieked and doubled over only to be met with Himiko’s knee in his gut. She daintily plucked the headband from his grasp and quickly pulled Luke out of the room.

“Are you okay?” The moment the two were far enough down the hall, Luke began to fuss over Himiko like a tiny nurse. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“No buddy, I’m fine.” Himiko held out her hand for a high five. “Up high,”

Whack!

“Down low,”

Woosh!

“Too slow.”

“Hey!” Luke whined. “No faaaaaiiiiir!”

———————

No one wants their human to be grumpy, especially not the brothers, so when Himiko spent the rest of the time until dinner holed up in her room, they were a tad concerned.

“My human’s all saaaaaaaaad,” Mammon rested his chin on the table and whined. The rest of the brothers sans Asmo were sitting at the table awaiting dinner. “Himiko said she didn’t wanna play the Game of Life, and it’s like, the one game she’s good at…”

“Yeah, she’s been pissy all day.” Belphie added before quietly yawning. “What’d you do, Mammon?”

“Me?!” Mammon sputtered, practically scrambling out of his seat and pointing an accusatory finger at his brothers. “I didn’t do shit! What about you idiots?!”

“Well, let’s look at what we know,” Satan said, waving off Mammon. “During first period we partnered up for a project, I left to use the restroom, then when I came back she looked upset. During lunch when she left, she came back and didn’t speak the rest of the lunch period. Any theories?”

Beel raised his hand, and Satan nodded to him. “Himiko has terrible separation anxiety now, she can’t go too long without us.”

Satan gave Beel a few nods, then turned to the others. “That’s one guess. Anyone else?”

Mammon raised his hand, and Satan promptly ignored him.

“Oi! Pay attention to me!” Mammon stuck his hand in the air and waved harder. “She’s angry because she’s failin’ a class! Every time we’re not distractin’ her, she remembers!”

“I would have heard if she was failing a class.” Lucifer finally piped up from the head of the table, his face was buried in RAD’s newspaper. “You on the other hand, Mammon, are failing three of your four classes this semester.”

Mammon slid back into his seat and scratched the back of his neck. “About thaaaaaat, I need money for uh… for new books n’ pencils n’ shit. That’s why I’m failin’, you’ll lend me money, won’t ya big bro?”

Lucifer didn’t get to respond as Asmo burst into the door of the dining room with a pot of pasta that was almost half his height. “DINNER IS SERVED~!”

As everyone settled in to eat, Himiko finally made her appearance and plopped herself down in her usual seat next to Mammon and helped herself to the pasta with rosé sauce.

“It’s good! It’s good right?” Asmo peppered the group with questions about the food and how good he did. Himiko had to admit, this was damn good pasta. Smooth, creamy, cheesy, all that was missing was garlic bread. In a matter of minutes Himiko had cleared her first bowl and was going in for seconds.

“So Himiko,” Satan said as Himiko continued to shovel pasta into her face at a pace that could rival Beel. “We’ve noticed you’ve been looking a little upset today, care to satiate our curiosity?”

Himiko paused mid bite, which wasn’t doing wonders for her appearance considering she had sauce on the tip of her nose. But still, how sweet of her boys to notice, it made her cold dead little heart swell with love.

“Oh you know, just idiots at school not worth my attention.”

“What have they been saying?” Asmo asked, his voice unusually stiff.

“They’ve been calling me you guys’ pet.” Himiko grumbled. “How ridiculous is that?”

The clattering of forks and the chewing of food halted as the boys went completely silent. Himiko shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she looked around. Had what those demons said been a greater insult to the boys than she-

“Pfff- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Mammon erupted into laughter and the rest of the brothers followed suit.

“G-Geez,” Belphie snickered, feigning wiping a tear from his eye. “Humans are so sensitive.”

“Excuse me?!” Himiko gripped her fork so hard she was sure it would leave indents.

“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, Himi,” Levi said between bouts of cackling. “But you are a teeny tiny little normie human surrounded by well… us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?! That I should just roll over and take it!?” Himiko immediately turned and pointed at Belphie. “Don’t you dare.”

Belphie’s mouth was open to make a comment about Himiko’s poor choice of words, but the pact activated and any words died in his throat. Belphie flipped her off and Himiko returned the gesture.

“Himiko,” Beel was sweet enough to not laugh at Himiko’s predicament. “It’s not that big of a deal. Besides, people love their pets.”

As sweet as Beel thought his words were being, Himiko really wanted to send him to bed without dinner.

“Yes, yes, Beel’s right.” Satan took a deep breath and collected himself after his laughing fit had finally ceased. “It’s nothing to worry about, Himiko. It shouldn’t be bothering you. Just don’t listen.”

Himiko somehow gripped her fork even tighter as she levelled her ice cold glare at Satan. “Thank you so much for demonsplaining how I should deal with and feel about the very human problem of people seeing me as some toy.”

The venom in her words seemed to snap the rest of the table out of their giggly stupor, and Mammon gave Himiko a few pats on the back.

“Ah don’t worry about it, Himiko. I’ll fight any bastard who says anythin’ like that.” Suddenly realizing he hadn’t been a tsundere for five whole minutes, Mammon went red and snatched his hand away. “Ya know, just because you’d probably use the pact and order me to anyway…”

“I’m not a dere~” Levi began to softly sing, Himiko perked up and grabbed Mammon’s cheek.

“A tsun-tsundere~”

“Not that song again!”

That should have been the end of that whole debacle. Himiko’s decent mood had been restored and all was well! The gang chatted amicably for the rest of dinner. Himiko made sure to heap loads of praise on Asmo for his amazing pasta. She felt a part of her die when she went in for fourths and the spoon scraped the bottom of the pot.

Too bad nothing ever goes smoothly in the Devildom.

Since it was Asmo’s night to cook, it was Himiko’s night to do dishes, so she got up and began to clear the table. As she began to collect the unused knives, Lucifer, not looking up from his newspaper, handed Himiko his plate.

“Thank you, pet, that’ll be all.”

Himiko stopped dead in her tracks and her grip on the plate tightened. “Repeat that, Lucifer?”

“Thank you, pet, that’ll be all.”

A tiny smirk spread across Lucifer’s face, which only served to make Himiko’s blood boil. If he thought he could make a joke about that while she was still mad he had another thing coming.

As quick as a flash, she had whipped the plate straight at the ground, shattering it into dozens of tiny pieces, before Lucifer even had a chance to say anything, Himiko was standing in front of him with a frigid glare on her face.

“Lucifer, put your hand flat on the table and spread your fingers. Keep quiet.”

With no choice but to obey, Lucifer slapped his hand down on the dining table, though, the glare he was giving her wasn’t any less murderous. Not caring, Himiko’s gaze remained cold and calculating, she turned to the other brothers, who were rooted in place from sheer shock. “Stay.”

“I’d just like to get something out there to you seven,” Himiko said calmly, holding one of the knives in her right hand and waving it around like it was the most casual thing in the universe. “I, am no one’s pet,”

Himiko turned and slammed the knife right between Lucifer’s middle and index fingers, imbedding it deep in the table.

“Arm candy,”

The second knife was slammed right in between Lucifer’s middle and pointer finger.

“Or accessory.”

The final knife went between his index and pinkie finger. Himiko’s next words were slow and deliberate as she stared the strongest of the brothers directly in the eyes.

“I am your friend, and equal, I won’t accept being anything less, whether it’s a joke, or not. You agreed to those terms the day we made our pact, didn’t we Lucifer? Have you changed your mind?”

It was so quiet you could hear Henry 2.0 swimming around in Levi’s room upstairs. No one dared to breathe as the seconds ticked past.

Finally, Lucifer responded, his voice tinged with exasperation. “No Himiko, I haven’t.”

“Good,” A small triumphant smile appeared on Himiko’s face as she removed the knives from the table and finished up cleaning the table. “That goes for the rest of you boys too, got it?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Mhm.”

“Yes…”

As Himiko walked into the kitchen to do everyone’s dishes, they quietly reminded themselves exactly who they were dealing with. Himiko Nanami was no dainty little human, no no no, she was the one master to rule them all, and by god was she going to make sure no one ever forgot.

——————

AAAAAAAA THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!!! I really need to write more stuff with Himiko! Inspiration struck at like… 10 this morning and I just ran with it.

Now on one hand, I can see that people might think that Himiko overreacted to Lucifer’s little joke a tad. Buuuuuuuuuuut she’s gotta shut down that shit early, right? She doesn’t want “pet” to be the next “chihuahua”.

Lucifer’s probably trying to stick his nose back in his newspaper as he wonders whether he’s incredibly enraged or unbelievably turned on.

Hope you all enjoyed! Now back to the regularly scheduled shitposting.

[buckys-black-dress]

inked

a/n: here she is!!! while i work on afl, here is my crackfic on tattoo artist bucky!! if u haven’t caught on yet, most of my writing is au’s because of all the possibilites in terms of scenarios and storylines. anyways, i hope you enjoy, lovies!!! xoxo, ali <3

wc: 2.8k 

[tattoo artist!bucky x fem!reader]

-

It was like an addiction. 

Your first tattoo you got was simple. It was a dainty, small one on your wrist.

But now, it was slowly developing into a sleeve.

Not that you minded, though. Your forearm was slowly becoming filled with designs that you kept going back and getting here and there.

And at the tattoo parlor near your apartment in Brooklyn, you had become a regular at this point.

It was called B&R Tattoo Shop, and it was run by two of the kindest, but most attractive men you’ve ever met. 

You’ve come to find out after getting to know the owners, that they opened the shop a bit after they returned from their second tour in the army and wanted to settle back in their hometown.  

Steve and James were hospitable to you, especially when they first met you. Steve was the one to meet you and speak with you at first, but he handed you off to James, or Bucky as he asked you to call him, because he was the artist at their shop that specialized in more of what you were looking for in terms of style. 

As far as first tattoo conversations go, you and Bucky got to know each other pretty well in one session. The tattoo itself took less than an hour, but it felt like Bucky was... prolonging it in a way, like he wanted to keep you there longer.

As you swung open the door of the shop, you were greeted by their piercer, Natasha. 

“Hey, back for another already?” She smirks from her spot behind the desk. While she wasn’t piercing, she usually worked the front if there was no one else free.

Your first tattoo had been done by Bucky, and you instantly fell in love.

With the tattoo. 

Well, Bucky too. Just a little bit.

He was extremely soothing and eased you into the process of tattooing you. He told you when something was going to happen, and as soon as you got used to the feeling of the needle against your skin. 

The more he talked to you, the less pain you felt. It was already not that painful, but you almost forgot about it with him talking to you. When he looked up to you as he finished, you looked like a confused puppy.

“Okay, all done, doll.” Bucky looked up at you, moving to turn off his machine.

“Oh... that was fast.” You furrowed your brows.

“Well, yeah, we moved pretty fast since it was a pretty small piece.” He explains, grabbing a paper towel and the anti-bacterial spray.

“Do you mind if I take a quick picture of it? I usually do, for my portfolio.” Bucky asks, inspecting the tattoo closely once again.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine.” You wait for him to pull out his camera, take the picture, and he comes back with a piece of plastic film in his hand.

“Okay, so this saniderm has to stay on for about three days. This is how it’ll heal, and when you take it off just wash it up with a gentle soap and use a cream without any fragrance or any of that crap. I can give you a little of that spray if you wanna use it to clean it up if you ever feel like it’s dirty.” Bucky explains, giving you a mini bottle of the antibacterial spray.

“Thank you,” you say, moving to sit up in the chair. “How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, just about $40.” Bucky says without eye contact, heading to the computer at the front counter.

“$40? That’s it? When I signed the waiver it said the shop minimum was $75...?” You wonder out loud.

“Let’s just say you get a special discount, doll.” He smirks, typing something into the computer and only sparing you a glance.

“O-Oh. Alright.” You say sheepishly, handing him your credit card.

“Okay, you’re all set. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” He tells you with a gentle smile. It really contrasted his aura; a big, beefy guy with a metal prosthetic arm, covered in probably hundreds of tattoos. But here he was, smiling like sunshine.

“I think I will be. Have a nice day, Bucky.” 

“You too, sweetheart.” He gives you that smirk again, making you feel like you might actually pass out. And not because you just had a needle jabbed into your skin for almost an hour.

“Uh, I already talked to Bucky for my session today. I know I’m a bit early, I can wait if he’s still working on someone else.” You tell Natasha with a smile.

“Sure, let me get you your waiver.” She says, and you plop down into one of the chairs at the front and pulling out your book to pass time after filling out the form.

After a few minutes, Bucky emerges with a girl from his little tattooing corner.

You hear his voice first, looking up from the book while he talks to her.

“Okay, since this was your first piece and pretty small, I’ll only charge ya $55 for it, doll.” Bucky tells the girl with a smile, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest.

You didn’t want to say you were jealous, but goddamn it, your breathing became just a little more shallow at the sight you were currently witnessing.

Even Natasha and Steve turned their heads to him, confused looks on both of their faces.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here! C’mon back, I’m sure Nat already set you up with your waiver.” You nod, not saying a word as you follow him to the familiar chair.

“So, are we still doing what we discussed on the phone?” Bucky asks, setting up his area to tattoo you.

“Actually, I was thinking something different.” You say sharply.

“Different?” The shock is evident on his features. 

“Yeah. Different. Just want a little something on my collarbone.” You say, sitting down. 

“O-Okay... what were you thinking of?” He asks, pulling out his sketchbook.

“I want an olive branch, going from here to here.” You show him where you want it to start and end. It was a bit of a stretch right across the left side of your chest. “Something simple and minimal. I’ve been thinking of starting the top of my sleeve, this might be a good way to transition into it.” You say nonchalantly.

“Uhm... alright. How does this look?” Bucky asks, showing you his sketch. “I would, of course, add more detail to your liking, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, I want some more shading, please.” You say shortly. You honestly weren’t trying to be mean, but you were irritated.

But in the end, you really had no right to be. 

After almost ten sessions with Bucky, he hasn’t made any indication that he likes you the way you like him.

Sure, he calls you pet names, but he does that to everyone. Even discounts. You weren’t special. He was just being nice and doing his job.

So honestly, you had to cut the act here.

“Are you sure this is what you want? Are you saving the other design for our next session?” Bucky asks, growing more and more concerned with your odd behavior. Usually you would talk to him about your day, how work was, really anything. 

“I don’t know. I think I might ask Steve to do that one instead.” You say out of spite, more than anything. You would never take a design that Bucky made specially for you to another person to tattoo on you, even if it was his own business partner.

“Wha- Why? Did I do something? You’ve been acting really weird today...” Bucky questions you carefully. “Talk to me, doll. Did you have a bad day at work?”

But that, that right there, was your breaking point. Doll. 

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just get this done.” You huff, laying down after nodding to the sketch that Bucky drew out. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed even further, but didn’t ask any more questions. He laid down the stencil and asked if the placement was alright. You looked in the mirror he handed you and nodded briefly. 

The entire time Bucky had the machine in his hand, neither of you spoke a word. He tried to make brief conversation, but you only responded with a hum or nod. 

When he finally finished up, you got up and headed to the counter without a word after looking at the finished tattoo in the mirror. 

Your face was blank, emotionless, and Bucky was truly lost. 

After you paid the full price of your piece, you walked out of the shop, not even sparing anyone a glance. 

Once you left, the shop was dead silent. Everyone either just finished up with a client or didn’t have any at the moment, and the shop was blanketed in an extremely uncomfortable silence.

“What the hell was that, man?” Sam’s voice broke the silence, making Bucky’s head snap towards him. 

“I-I... I have no idea. She was acting so...so weird today.” Bucky looked more confused than ever.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Natasha’s voice cuts through the palpable silence.

“Wh- What the hell did I do? I asked her too, and she didn’t give me an answer...” Bucky mumbles.

“Do you like her?” She fires back with a fire in her eyes.

“W-Well, yeah. She’s a regular.” Bucky answers, looking at his fiddling hands.

“Not like that, you dunce. You know what I mean, don’t act dumb.” Natasha rolls her eyes.

Bucky sighs, not making eye contact yet again.

“I-... I do like her.” He says. “But I don’t think she feels the same.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ... You really are a dumbass.” Sam sighs out.

Steve snorts at his words, nodding in agreement.

“Buck, she got jealous.” He explains, shaking his head at his best friend’s obliviousness.

“J-Jealous? Of what?” Bucky scoffs in shock.

“That girl you had right before her. Gave her a discount, called her pet names. The whole shabang.” Natasha points out to him. “Also, you gotta stop giving out discounts like that. You’ll lose more money than you’re makin’.” Natasha scoffs. 

“Wh- But... She never said anything...?” Bucky thinks back to all the times you’ve sat in his chair. You never made any indication that you were outwardly interested in him.

“I think she said enough today without actually saying much.” Steve laughs. His friend was a real idiot.

“I... But, why didn’t she say anything before?” Bucky asked.

“Buck, you never said anything either. I guess that when she heard you talk to that girl like that, she thought you really didn’t like her like that at all. You treated that girl the same way you treat her.” Natasha explains to Bucky, who had a look of realization on his face.

“But... I was just... being nice...” He says with his head in his hands. 

“Well, now she thinks you do that with all you clients, so...” Sam says, making the brunet’s head shoot up.

“Fuck. Fuck. I fucked up everything!” He exclaims. “I-I do like her!” 

“Well, don’t tell us that, tell her!” Sam shouts back to him, and before Bucky can process, he’s pulling out his phone and dialing your phone number.

“C’mon, pick up, pick up,” He mumbles repeatedly, but the call goes to voicemail. “Fuck.”

“Not pickin’ up?” Steve questions, coming to the front and picking up the shop phone. “Gimme her number, she’s doesn’t have to shop saved to her phone, right?” 

“No, I don’t think she does.” Bucky says, watching as Steve dials your number.

“Hello?” Your voice sounds annoyed as it filters through the phone. “Who’s this?” 

“Uh, Y/N! Hi!” Steve speaks, looking at Bucky in a panic, his facial expression screaming, ‘talk to her!’ 

“Steve? What’s up?” You ask, wondering what he needed. 

“You uhh... you forgot your book here!” He blurts out, trying to find an excuse, but quickly found one upon seeing your book resting on the seat where you were waiting. 

“O-Oh... I guess I’ll just turn around. I’ll be there in a few. Thanks, Steve.” You say, ready to hang up.

“O-Okay. Bye, Y/N.” He clears his throat, hanging up. “You have like, ten minutes to get your shit together and talk to her when she gets here. Good luck.” Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder, ready to haul Natasha and Sam to the back to give you two some privacy.

Bucky thought that this was the longest ten minutes of his life, and he was trying to conjure up a speech in his head to confess to you.

Finally, when you did appear through the doors, you looked lost. You only saw Bucky, which made you even more aggravated from the fact that you had to turn back around.

You were ready to head home and wallow in peace, but alas, you wanted your book. 

Bucky just watched as you picked up the book from his grasp across the desk, your eyes not meeting his while he kept his gaze on you very intently. 

Just as you turned around to leave, Bucky’s voice cut through the unbearable silence.

“Y/N?” He simply asks, and you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs at the sound of his small voice. This wasn’t the Bucky you knew and... loved.

“Yes, James?” You simply respond, and Bucky cringes at the sound of his first name being used. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“...Why? Is everything alright?” And although your voice didn’t give it away, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Any possible scenario popped into your head. He has a girlfriend. He’s gonna tell you he doesn’t wanna see you anymore. He-

“E-Everything’s fine, doll. Just wanted to tell you that... That I...” Bucky’s voice sounded strained, like there was something caught in his throat.

“Bucky, just spit it out.” You say, wanting to leave already.

“It’s just- I like you. A lot. And I’m so sorry for earlier with that other client. I was just trying to be nice, but I realized how that looked to you, and I never thought anything of it because I didn’t know if you liked me back or-” Bucky was rambling, and your eyes were wide as saucers.

“Bucky, Bucky stop. Let me talk before you drive your own head in with conclusions,” you say, resting your hand on top of his on the desk.

“I like you a lot, too. I didn’t think you like me either because of that girl before me. You just- you treated her the same way you treated me, and I got jealous. I know I didn’t have the right to be, but it just made me think that... that you didn’t feel the same way about me, that I was just another client to you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, and also for being kind of a bitch to you...” Now you were the one rambling, your hands flying all over the place in explanation.

“D-Doll, I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m sorry, too. I should’ve told you before, before I almost blew everything with you that we’ve been building these past months.” He says placing one large tattooed hand and one metal hand on the sides of your face. “But I’m not gonna miss my chance again. Y/N, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“I-I would love to, Bucky. Took you long enough to ask me.” You giggle, holding onto the hands on your face.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of an idiot, if you haven’t already noticed.” He laughs, gazing into your eyes with a look that almost turned you to mush in his hands. 

“Do... do ya wanna go now?” You ask, nodding your head to the door.

“Sure, let me go grab my jacket from the back.” He tells you, and you nod, watching as he keeps his eyes on you until he disappears to the back.

“My man, who would’ve thought you’d finally man up?” Sam ridicules him as soon as Bucky appears.

“Dude, shut up. I got a date to get to, see you losers later.” He rolls his eyes, moving back out where you’re smiling at him.

“Ready, angel?” Bucky asks, slipping his hand into yours.

“Ready, handsome.” You reply, and as soon as you step out into the fall air, you plant a kiss on his cheek. “Where to, lover boy?”

[harpersplay]

Genuine non-troll white woman here - you wrote "So I already knew that Good Girls was a white feminism phantasmagoria...But, jesus fucking christ, y'all are just showing your true colours lately. The way you talk about a MOC in relation to a white woman is disgusting." Not asking you to call out specific people or posts or start any kind of flame war but what would be a general example of what you are talking about? I follow a good chunk of people and I'm not seeing this maybe b/c I'm not following the same people, maybe out of willful blindness, maybe I'm not recognizing it - again, b/c of ignorance, etc. Just trying to understand what you mean - and not do it obviously, if I am doing it.

I apologise for taking a longish time to answer this. Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to get into it. Anyway, I'd first like to say that this is all my opinion. What bothers me might not bother someone else. BIPOC are not a monolith. Even subsections aren't. Not all Mexican trans men are a monolith. Neither are all Japanese lesbians. You get the idea. And that's not even including people like Ben Carson or Caitlyn Jenner—people who support and work for policies that actively harm the marginalised group of which they are a part. Secondly, I know this isn't your intention, but asking POC to tell you what is ok to do and what is not is a slippery slope to "my [blank] friend said this was ok." Finally, the fandom is quite small so it is pretty hard to give general examples. I don't know if it's more trouble to quote specific posts or not, because some will think it is about them anyway. Anything I'm going to mention I've seen on Tumblr, Instagram, Reddit and/or Twitter. But there are definitely popular Tumblr blogs that all push the same narrative. Oh, and one last thing, I haven't seen any of what I'm referring to from people I follow.

Ok, let's go. For a very long time, mainly WOC have pointed out the racial problems within the show and the extremely dismissive attitude about those problems from mainly white women. And while these same women have written thousands (even tens of thousands) or words about Beth (it's always Beth) and her struggles and the amazingness of such a complex female character (ymmv), they brush aside commentary about racism as either nitpicking, not understanding the show is about the 3 women (tell that to all the white men with fleshed-out storylines), or misogyny. The last is especially hostile because they are often talking over Black women and misogynoir is a very real fucking thing that couples the fun of being hated for being a woman with the delight of good old-fashioned racism. They espouse the idea that people having a problem with Beth are all covert & overt misogynists. But talk out the other side of their mouths that they can't possibly be racist even when they support racism in the show or ignore concerns brought up by fans of colour. And that is just the absolute height of hypocrisy. Because by the former they acknowledge that people in a marginalised group (women) can still be anti- that group (a phenomenon with which I agree). But in the latter, suddenly they don't understand that concept.

Specific to the post you are responding to, fans that purport to like Brio write about the relationship in ways that reveal how much of their enjoyment comes from Rio being inferior to Beth. It's all about what he can do for her, how he acts against his best interests for her, how he literally denies himself sexual pleasure for her. Those are all meant to show how in love he is with her. But the show never bothers to tell us why. And, no, this is not because the show is so deep. Other romantic relationships they have scenes that are explicit about the characters' feelings. But Rio, after being shot, after being betrayed, after being mocked, is just so in love with Beth....because. (MYSTERIOUS!) And the Beth stans are more than fine with this because they think everyone should be as obsessed with Beth as they are. But it's bad storytelling. And, in this particular case, it gets into very dicey racist tropes. A white women treating her Latino lover like an afterthought is not the same as a white women treating her white lover like an afterthought. It just isn't. And if some of these fans are as smart as they pretend to be, they know that. They just don't care. Much like the showrunners.

There was so much talk defending the drawn-out Boland marriage because why can't we understand how hard it is for Beth—who is, at various times, claimed to be emotionally abused by Dean or staying with him because it is safe and comfortable—and we don't appreciate how difficult it is for her (I may be one of the few divorced people talking about this show on Tumblr, so this has always made me laugh). Yet there was nothing but glee when Rio flipped on his brousin (who was written as both abusive and safe) for Beth. Where was the empathy for Rio and how hard it was for him? Especially because, unlike Beth, he didn't even have one parent? Hadn't the Beth stans used her very tragical history™️ to explain away her every shitty act? idk, not having any parents and going to jail (as a minor?) and being betrayed by your family seems pretty tragic. But I didn't see them all of a sudden excusing Rio's bad behaviour. Because, feminism or something?

What about Beth's feelings? Last season she spent trying to have him killed. This season she spent looking annoyed by him. Throughout both she talked down to him in a specific white woman way that every BIPOC has experienced, even if some of them are cool with it. There were multiple opportunites for Beth to talk about her feelings with Ruby and/or Annie, but the writers made the deliberate choice to always make it about sex (and god, the immature way they had these three grown women talk was fucking obnoxious). She spent the last 2 seasons also wanting him out of her life to the point that a majority of her actions in S4 were motivated by getting to Nevada with her husband and kids. Beth doesn't care about Rio but Rio needs to put Beth above everything because he's just so in love like he's never been before (which is blatant Marcus & Rhea erasure). And anyone who doesn't think Beth would have just as happily been sitting on that bench plotting how to "run the city" (hahahahaha!) with Nick if the situation worked out differently hasn't been paying attention.

So, what do we have? A white woman who is constantly excused (by the loudest portion of the fandom) for all her ill treatment to her Black BFF & her Black husband, her Asian coworker, her Latina "friend," and Rio (among others) because her life is hard and who is not required to even be nice to her supposed "endgame". And a MOC who is expected to accept being treated poorly by the white woman because he loves her.

And, a last thing, this attitude grossly crossed over into talk about real people when the fans—who self-righteously claimed to be above anon sources or talking about the actors—latched on to the narrative and enjoyed blaming the MOC actor for the cancellation of the show, even dragging his insignificant (in terms of influence) Black wife into it. All while conveniently ignoring that the creator/showrunner is a white woman. The star & producer is a white woman. The people making the decisions at NBCU & Netflix were white women. All white women with so much more power than the Latino actor.

Shit, did I answer your question? I know this is a lot. But I could honestly make mulitple posts on each issue I touched on here. Basically, white people ain't slick, be they content creators or fans. We see how & what y'all talk about. We see that Rio not having a last name is not a big deal to you and we know why that is. So we're fucking tired. And we're over a show that had so much potential crapping all over their POC characters to prop up a white woman. And we're repulsed by the white women in the fandom who use their tears to seem oppressed and who toss around the word misogynist because POC dare call a Karen a Karen.

[mymoonagedaydream]

Only the Good Die Young (Part 6)

Summary: It seemed like everyone in that godforsaken town was out to test your relationship

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment, harmful relationship with parents, creepy threatening behaviour

Author's Note: Temptation. I feel like I’ve put these two through so much but I just. cannot. stop. Eventually I may need medical intervention.

---

You just stood there for a little while. Eyes closed, head resting against his chest, savouring the contentment and safety you felt in his arms. These moments of peace were few and far between for the two of you, so when they came along you held on to them for as long as you could.

Your serenity faded after a few minutes, as you found yourself struggling to prevent his mother’s words bleeding into the front of your mind.

You wanted to look after him, you wanted to heal and care for him the best you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to make up for his past. You couldn’t fix it.

But at least now, you were able to realise that everything he’d ever achieved, he’d done completely by himself. 

All his life he’d had no help, no support and no real reason to outgrow the life that people like your mother expected him to lead. At the very least, you were determined to change that.

After a while, he piped up. ‘You hungry? I thought we could order food, there’s a really good-’

You cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his, apparently shocking him a little, because it took him a few seconds to respond. He eventually tightened his hold around you and tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss while you moved your hands to cradle his face. Eventually, he pulled away.

‘-pizza place nearby.’

You laughed at his stupid grin, nodded and reached over to the drawer with the takeout menus.

The two of you ate in front of the TV, then curled up together on the sofa for the evening. You were still holding onto this moment of peace, savouring every second, knowing how fleeting it could be.  

---

As predicted, you only managed about an hour of relaxation before Bucky’s phone started buzzing. He picked it up and moved over to the kitchen when he saw that it was his mother calling.

You tried not to eavesdrop, but it wasn’t a big flat.

He didn’t say much, he was mainly listening to her, but as the conversation progressed you could tell he was getting more and more agitated. The only thing you could really gauge was that, at one point, she asked him for money. He told her he was pretty broke at the moment, so he didn’t have any to spare, but you had no idea if that was the truth.

It was heart-breaking to see the toxic side of their relationship in practice, especially after seeing all the love that his mother was capable of.  

Finally, he said a short goodbye and trudged back to the couch. You waited for a second to see if he’d share willingly, but he just huffed, heaved his boots up onto the table and necked the rest of his beer. You were going to have to do this the hard way.

‘Is everything alright?’

‘Yeah, fine.’ He gave you a short, tight smile and reached for the remote. You caught his arm.

‘Buck.’

‘It’s nothing, just...’ He gave an aggravated sigh and rubbed his eyes. ‘She’s not pressing charges.’

‘That’s not nothing. That’s a pretty valid reason to be upset.’

You were still very much testing the waters as far as talking Bucky down was concerned. You were sure that he’d calm down himself given enough time, but if you were going to move in here properly you’d prefer not to have walls full of holes.

He took a deep breath. ‘It’s not like I expected anything else, this is what always happens.’

‘Doesn’t mean it sucks any less.’ You shifted closer and interlaced your fingers with his, rubbing his forearm with your other hand, feeling some of the tension in his muscles settle under your touch. You were pretty pleased with that result, even if it was only small. ‘Y’know, for a guy who was so eager to find someone to talk to, you’re really not easy to get information out of.’

He let a reluctant smile spread across his face. ‘Good job you’re a ruthless interrogator then.’

---

The next few days were almost perfect. You were able to spend quality time together and unwind a little, just about managing to ignore the sixty-four missed calls from your parents and the texts begging for money from his. Bucky went out to work whenever repair jobs came up, but you quite enjoyed having free-reign of the flat while he was gone, making subtle changes that he barely noticed when he got back.

The decoration wasn’t bad per se, it just didn’t really… exist. It was your typical bare bones bachelor pad, you were convinced he hadn’t made any real changes since moving in- apart from a pile of magazines and a couple of suspicious stains on the carpet.

When your parents finally gave up, and when enough time had passed since the visit from Bucky’s mother, it felt for the first time like maybe everything could turn out alright. All the problems you’d faced seemed to be receding further and further, it seemed like they couldn’t penetrate the walls of this cosy little life you’d built.

So it was all the more disappointing when that turned out not to be the case.

---

You woke up to the sound of Bucky’s alarm. Stretching a little, you felt his body pressed up against the back of yours and his arms wrapped you. He reached over you to shut the sound off, groaned dramatically and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

‘Another morning I'll have trouble climbing out of bed.’

His words were muffled against your skin. You rolled onto your back and brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, smiling at the deep marks left on his cheek by the creases in the sheets. The two of you must’ve slept like logs, barely moving all night.

‘Stay then.’

‘I’ve got places to go.’ He placed a few soft kisses below your ear. ‘There’s a big job today, could be a few hundred bucks.’

You frowned and abruptly grabbed his head, lifting it away from you. ‘Hundreds? Christ, get out then.’

‘Wow, didn’t have you down as a gold digger.’ You laughed and tried to push him out of bed, relenting when he clawed his way back to you.

‘You could use some restraint, Barnes.’

‘I never said I was a saint.’

Ten or fifteen minutes later, Bucky finally got up and ready for work. You had a day of solid lounging around planned. Maybe you’d take a walk into town later, but only during the hours you knew your parents would be working. No way would you risk bumping into them.

---

He’d been gone for a few hours when the doorbell went. You couldn’t figure out who it was from the window, so you tiptoed downstairs and cautiously inched the door open. It was the blonde from the bar, the one who got Bucky thrown in jail.

‘What the hell do you want?’ The severity in your voice shocked you a little.

He gave a smug chuckle. ‘Calm down, suburbs. I wanna talk to Bucky.’

‘About what?’

He narrowed his eyes at you and stepped forward, stretching his arms out and bracing himself against the door frame. You instinctively moved back, tightening your grip on the open door, ready to slam it shut at a moment's notice.

‘I’d rather just speak to him, sweetheart.’

‘Look, he’s not here, but even if he was I’m sure he’d just tell you to fuck off.’

A sinister, calculating look spread over his face. ‘You’re here all on your own?’

The shift in his tone made your entire body tense up. You immediately defaulted into fight or flight mode, pushing the door closed as quickly as you could. Somehow he moved faster, shoving his foot into the gap and letting out an irritated grunt when the door slammed into it. You felt him pushing against the other side of the wood.

‘C’mon.’ You saw his fingers emerge through the gap and curl round the edge of the door. ‘I just wanna talk.’

Summoning strength from god-knows-where, you stomped down on his foot with all your weight. When it jerked out of the gap, you shoved your shoulder hard against the door, hearing the cracking of his fingers followed by loud yelp. He pulled his hand away and you swiftly turned the lock.

He was still shouting and banging on the door as you scrambled upstairs, your shaky knees finally causing you to collapse as you burst back into the flat. You crawled over to the window and peeked out, seeing him limping away down the street, cradling his injured hand against his chest. You breathed out for what felt like the first time in ten minutes, remnants of your adrenaline rush making your head spin.

Despite your overwhelming panic, you couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with yourself, cause damn that was pretty fucking badass.

You considered calling Bucky, but figured that as long as you didn’t answer the door again, you should be alright until he finishes. It’d be much easier to explain what’d happened after you’d had some time to think about it and to calm down a bit.

You made some tea and collapsed onto the couch, all the while making an effort to maintain deep, controlled breaths. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before you managed to compose yourself.

When Bucky got back, you sat him down and reeled it all off, reassuring him throughout that you were fine. He seemed to take it surprisingly well, staying silent and still while you were explaining. You thought maybe he’d finally turned a corner with his anger.

That was, until you got to the end of your story.

‘He didn’t come back, right?’ You shook your head. He nodded to himself and clenched his hands together tight, dropping his head and taking a deep, shaky breath. ‘Fuckin asshole, man.’

You could see him ramping up to something, so you tried your best to diffuse. ‘It’s fine, I’m fine. I handled it.’

‘Nah.’ Bucky stood up suddenly and grabbed his jacket, storming towards the door. ‘He could’a hurt you.’

‘He didn’t.’ You followed him, managing to grab his arm before he made it out of the flat.

‘That’s not the point.’

You knew there was no fucking way were you going to stand back and let him do this again. His judgement was being clouded by anger, that much was obvious, so he needed a sharp reality check to ground him again.

‘Do you really think this is worth going back to jail for?’ He stopped tugging against you, turning his head slightly so you were in the corner of his vision. ‘Cause I guarantee I won’t be here when you get out.’

He was still for a second. You let go and took a couple steps back, waiting to see what he would do.

If he left, this was over.

He threw his jacket to the ground in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair, turning back towards you with a regretful grimace. You breathed a pretty big sigh of relief.

‘You’re right.’ He held his arms out in defeat. ‘Y’know, I try to be rational, but it all gets blown to pieces when I look at you.’

What a strange mix of accusation and romance.

‘If you don’t chill the fuck out soon you’ll only be looking at me through bulletproof glass.’

He rubbed his forehead exasperatedly. ‘God, I wish everyone would just leave us alone.’

You didn’t respond for a second, considering whether or not to tell him what you were thinking. It was something you’d been debating for a while, something you were going to bring up with him when it got closer to the end of summer.

Fuck it, now was as good a time as any.

‘We need to get out of this town. There’s nothing here for us Buck.’

He squinted at you in slight confusion. ‘You wanna move?’

‘Look I know it’s not been long, and I know there's a danger in wanting too much too soon, but I really think we could be happy somewhere else. Your parents, my parents, your weird creepy friends. We need to get away.’

He looked away, considering your proposal. You just shifted on the spot awkwardly for what felt like hours. Eventually he smiled, then grinned, and soon enough he was beaming at you.

‘Alright. Let’s get outta here.’

‘Yeah?’ Your head was spinning with possibility and optimism. ‘Where should we go?’

‘Wherever you want darlin.’

---

Part 7

---

@shawnie--jo @brilliantbellesoares @livingoffsavvyillusions @noiralei @bebeyeni @kingkassam @newyorkgoddess @sir-lili @im-squished @dancer3205 @thefallenbibliophilequote @supernaturalwintersoldier

---

[rjhpandapaws]

When the Music Plays

Chapter 1: Jimmy's

Tw: Hank alcoholism and suicidal ideation.

A/N: just a reminder that I am playing fast and loose with Canon

Hank wasn’t the best with technology, for that and other reasons he kept clear of androids; but even he knew things were changing. Androids were going missing with more and more frequency. An alarming number of people were reporting being attacked by their androids before they disappeared. It was something bigger than programing issues he suspected, and he also knew he didn’t want to be anywhere near it when things finally fell apart. As usual though it seemed fate wasn’t all that inclined to listen to him. He was doing what he normally did on days like this; avoiding his responsibilities and making a valiant attempt to drown whatever braincells were stubborn enough to stick around. Old Fashioned had gotten too complicated a few hours back so he had moved on to straight whiskey hoping that his consciousness would get the hint and move on as well. He’d pass out at the bar in his usual fashion and Jimmy would wake him up at last call; he’d drive home and pray to get in a wreck, feed Sumo if he survived, sleep, then repeat everything again if he woke up again. Except that tonight his consciousness was too stubborn to leave. He was hunched over the bar, all but face first in his whiskey when Jimmy’s hand came into his line of sight. Once he had Hank’s attention he pointed over his shoulder. Hank turned to look, and standing right there in his sanctuary was a fucking android. Fucking fantastic.

The things Hank has liked about Jimmy’s had been that there were no androids allowed on the premises and everyone would mind their own damn business, too busy drinking to worry about what was happening around them. Except now there was an android in the middle of the bar and everyone was staring at him. What had been a sanctuary was no longer safe. The android was talking and the nice thing about being Deaf was that he could easily ignore him simply by not looking at him. So he turned back to the bar to continue nursing his whiskey. The thing had the nerve to sit beside him. It gave Hank time to finish his whiskey before it tapped on his shoulder to get his attention. Hank thought about trying to ignore him again, but he had the sneaking suspicion that wasn’t going to work. It had after all made itself at home in a clearly anti android bar. It was either here for him, had no sense of self preservation; or if Hank was particularly unlucky, both. He sighed and turned to face the android. Immediately it started talking again. Hank withheld the urge to bash his head against the bar as he picked up his hands to sign, ‘I Deaf.’ The android took a moment of pause. The Led om his temple blinked for a few cycles. It returned to blue and began to sign, ‘You Lieutenant A-N-D-E-R-S-ON?’

Hank wanted to groan, ‘Yes.’ He signed the letter ‘A’ and tapped it over his heart for his rank and name sign in one making things easier, ‘You Want What?’ ‘I Look For You.’ The android signed sharply, ‘I Find You After Five Bars.’ ‘You Want What?’ Hank repeated going as far as to tap the android’s chest. ‘I Sent For You. Active Case.’ It signed, ‘My Name C-O-N-N-O-R.’ He took a moment to to sign ‘machine’ but with the letter ‘C’. ‘I From CyberLife.’ Of course it was. Androids had taken every other job, and at long last it seemed they were coming after his. He sighed and rubbed at his face. ‘Tough Shit. I Not Join You.’ He didn’t even get back to facing the bar again before Connor tapped his shoulder again. Hank groaned and turned back to it. ‘If I Buy Drink You Will Come With Me?’ Connor asked and tipped his head to emphasize the question. Hank figured he had nothing left to lose. Connor had already made it clear he had no plans to leave him alone. So much so that he had made himself comfortable in a place that he clearly wasn’t welcome. ‘Sure. Why Not.’ There was no getting out of this as it was, so he might as well get a free drink out of it.

Hank didn’t see the bill Connor had slid across the counter, but after a long moment Jimmy slid him another whiskey. He took his time with it. He had to work this evening, which most likely meant dealing with Gavin and that wasn’t something he wanted to do sober. Connor just lingered. He sat stiffly in the corner of Hank’s vision, a constant reminder that he was one mistake away from being replaced. He didn’t know what Jeff was thinking with this, but Hank was certain he wasn’t going to like it. Unfortunately, a single glass of whiskey could only be made to last so long. Not to mention that Connor was just outside his line of sight as a solid reminder that there as no getting out of this. He sighed and set the empty glass down on the bar then stood. Connor followed him to the end of the bar and watched him settle the tab. It was creepy as all fuck. He got in his car and Connor got in on the passenger’s side without prompting which unsettled him. Hank reached across the car and opened the glove box. He felt around until he found his hearing aid case. He took them out and put them in, he turned them on, then put the radio on a volume where talking would be unpleasant if not difficult. With everything settled he made his way to the location that Connor had sent to his phone. Hank found androids as a whole to be off putting, not the least of this was because of how real they looked. This of course extended to Connor as well, but there was more to it than that when it came to him. He looked young, innocent almost and it was uncomfortable. Hank didn’t trust it. Androids had no reason to look like that. Something was up, and Hank had a feeling he was going to find out whether he wanted to or not. This android had sought him out and there was a reason for that. It was a mystery he would rather not solve, but he knew that wasn’t up to him either. So in his usual fashion, he planned to ignore it until it became unavoidable. They pulled into the scene and Hank turned off the radio and then turned to face Connor, “Stay in the car.” He said firmly and went so far to sign ‘stay’ as he spoke. “Got it.” Came the android’s response. His voice was somehow both earnest and emotionless. It was added to the list of things Hank found unsettling about Connor. Hank didn’t trust that he would actually stay in the car but he still got out. As much as he disliked it, he still had a job to do. If he got it done quickly enough he might even be able to go back to Jimmy’s and finished his night the right way. Drunk enough that none of this would stick around, or be a distant memory at the very least. He didn’t even make to the police line before he heard the other car door close. As he had suspected, his orders were not the ones Connor was designed to follow.

He waved at Ben who responded in kind then looked over Hank’s shoulder with a perplexed expression. Hank could hazard a guess at who or rather what he was looking at. Connor who was dutifully following him like some overly eager rookie. “I didn’t think you one to get an android.” Ben remarked with notable confusion to his voice. Hank gave another sigh, his annoyance mounting further, “He’s not mine. CyberLife sent it to try and figure out what is going on, I’m just along for the ride I suppose.” Ben eyed Connor and he and Hank both crossed the police line. Hank changed his focus to the scene, though it took longer than he would have liked given the whiskey coursing through his system. He kept one eye on Connor as he looked over the scene. He wanted to know what had happened here as well as what Connor was capable of. From what he had gathered from the landlord Carlos Ortiz hadn’t been the best tenant, or even a good one at that. A Red Ice addiction and an android, those two things never mixed well as it was. Now the guy was dead, and like many androids as of late, his has vanished. Hank figured Connor was here for the android and he would be left with the homicide. It made the most sense. So with that plan in mind he made his way into the house.

The house was a mess, which Hank had for the most part expected. His years spent as a detective were the only things that kept him from losing his stomach at the smell. He talked to some of the other officers that were present before he went over the scene itself. Once he had an idea of what had happened he stepped out of the way to let Connor do his thing. Whatever that happened to be. He watched Connor go over the scene. It was unusual. The android would stand in one corner of the room or a doorway and observe the room as though he was watching something that Hank was unable to see. After that it would go through the room and observe the evidence. The LED would cycle between yellow and blue. What Hank was by no means ready for was when Connor swiped two of his fingers through god only knew what and then licked it. “Jesus Christ. Connor what the fuck?” Hank groaned as he looked away. “My apologies Lieutenant.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry, “I have a fully functional forensic analysis unit and I wanted results on the thirium before it evaporated.” “Just don’t do it again.” Hank replied as he turned back toward Connor. “Got it.” Connor responded in the same empty earnest tone from the car that Hank didn’t trust for a moment.

They moved through the house and the process repeated itself, save for the licking of mystery substances thankfully. The bathroom was a sight to behold. They both agreed that it was the android’s doing, but it was strange. As Hank understood it, android’s didn’t think. There was no way for them to develop beliefs, faith, or create something this ritual. Yet there it was. It was concerning in how unusual it was, and Hank was once again uncomfortable. This android, wherever it was, was defective and dangerous; but it also seemed like something more was going on. Hank couldn’t place what and he was getting more suspicious. Connor was looking up at the ceiling like he could see something that wasn’t there. Hank looked up to be sure, and other than the latch to the crawl space there was nothing up there. Connor’s LED rolled yellow and stayed there for a long moment. He passed Hank on his way out of the bathroom and Hank hesitated before he followed. Connor met him in the hallway with a chair from the dining room and Hank’s confusion only grew. “Connor, what are you doing?” He asked as he turned toward the bathroom. “The android is still here.” Came the distant reply. His voice was still emotionless and flat, but somehow colder at the same time. It teetered on dangerous and Hank didn’t like it.

Hank waited in the hallway because he had the feeling he wouldn’t want to be in the way when Connor came down with that android. He couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling from having heard Connor’s voice so dangerous but flat at the same time. It didn’t suit how he had been built to look, though Hank supposed that was the point. As it stood, the fact that CyberLife felt the need to get personally involved in this; as personal as sending an android to do your bidding could be; made him uncomfortable. Why send an android liaison? What were they trying to do? All of it was suspicious. There was more going on than they were being told, he just needed to figure out what. A commotion from the attic brought him out of his thoughts. Connor had found the android and apparently it didn’t plan to come quietly. Hank moved back toward the main part of the house; he didn’t want to be caught between two androids with something to settle. Connor and the other android got into another smaller scuffle in the front yard before they made their way back to the station to try and question the thing. There had the be a reason for it to have snapped like that. The alternative was that it was only a matter of time before every android out in the world did something like this; and that was not a line of thought that Hank was too keen on entertaining.

Gavin was waiting for them outside of the interrogation room when they got back and Hank had decided that he was way too sober for this. Hank pushed to have Connor question the android, it was the only way he could think of to get answers from it. Though as he watched Connor effortlessly manipulate it he came to regret that. Everything about Connor made him nervous, and that was before the other android had decided to self destruct in its holding cell. As Hand drove home in what was now the early hours of the morning he had the feeling that this was going to get so much worse before it got better. That, and he had better get used to this ever-present discomfort because he likely hadn’t seen every side of Connor yet.

[whatthehelltimespell]

Only Time Will Tell: Chapter Twenty-One

Title: Only Time Will Tell

 Chapter 21/? 

Chapter Summary: Everything seems normal until they go in the basement.

Over the next few days, Langdon did not come back to help Michael with learning how to read minds or feel other people's feelings, but Elizabeth had expected that after their small confrontation on the porch. She didn't know if Langdon had changed his mind about Christmas or not, but it was only a few days away, and she knew she wanted to do something for him.

It was true that she hadn't bought him anything; she hadn't bought Michael anything either. She thought the dinner would be enough, and she was going to enjoy having Michael help her. He'd probably like helping too because he'd be able to sample everything, especially the apple pie filling.

The morning after she and Langdon had gotten into it, she woke Michael up around eight and made a small breakfast.

"Hey, Michael?"

"Hm?" He looked up from a bite of egg and toast.

"I'm going to ask you something and I want your honest opinion. Don't just say yes because you think I want you to."

Michael put his fork down and sat up straighter.

"I was wondering how you would feel if I invited Langdon to move in here. I have space in the basement if I move around some stuff."

"He hasn't really acted like he wants to move in here."

"That is true," she admitted. "But I think part of that stems from him thinking we don't want him here. If we provide a place for him, he might start to feel wanted. I'm just wondering because we could start cleaning it out now and then on Christmas we can show him, if he still decides to come. As long as you don't overexert yourself, you can help by using your powers."

Michael perked up a little, but showed concern also, and she knew why. He didn't know if it was smart for him to use his telekinesis without Langdon being there. In fact, Langdon had told them not to, but she trusted Michael to know when too much was enough now.

"I don't mind him being here. I don't think he will hurt us."

"Neither do I. I wouldn't invite him to stay if I did." ----------

They started cleaning the basement that day, but Elizabeth had to work so it was pretty late. She also had to pick up a few crates so they could pack the stuff up first. Michael didn't have to use his powers for that at all, because nothing was too heavy.

Elizabeth was surprised by some of the stuff she found down there – like clothes she'd thought she'd left at home or lost during the move there, but also books from when she was younger and a few photo albums, mostly of her friends and some of her sister – and decided she would go through some of the stuff later. There were even a few boardgames. She'd brought them with her because she'd liked them, not really because she'd had any real thought of playing them.

Maybe now that Michael was living with her, she could teach him to play some of them. He'd probably like them. He actually put a box of games to the side when he found the one that contained boards for checkers and chess, the pieces in a bag along with them. She could play checkers okay, but she sucked at chess. She didn't have the patience for it.

"We can put the games in the closet in your room," she told Michael. "Just go through the ones that you want. Maybe we can give the rest away or something."

They continued going through the basement until around seven, and then they stopped to have dinner, which was frozen pizza. It was something easy and she knew Michael would eat it.

They watched an older movie called Monster Squad about a bunch of kids saving the world from monsters. It was one of Elizabeth's favorites from when she was a kid. Michael liked it but not as much as Harry Potter. Speaking of which, they were almost done with the third book and could soon watch the third movie.

The third movie was Elizabeth's favorite, so she hoped Michael enjoyed it. ---------- Later that night, after Elizabeth was done reading their nightly chapter, Michael brought up something he'd been wondering about since he'd agreed they should ask Langdon to stay with them.

"You won't forget about me if he says yes, will you?"

"What?"

"Well, he will need your help too. Maybe even more than me because he didn't have you to help him before and he's not used to it."

"Michael, I can help you both at the same time. And I could never forget about you."

"You'll still read to me every night?"

"Of course. We still have four books to go. We can't just stop in the middle," she teased. "We'll still talk and play games, and you'll still learn to do new things. The only thing that will be different is that Langdon will be here . . . if he decides to stay."

They had finished the last chapter of the third Harry Potter book. It had been even more drama-filled than the other two, Michael thought. Harry had found out he had a godfather, had found out that said godfather had been the reason his parents had died, and then had found out that that wasn't true at all. His friend, Ron, had had a pet rat named Scabbers, who was actually a wizard that could turn into an animal, and he had been the reason Harry's parents had been killed. It had been interesting, to say the least.

Michael still didn't like Snape or the Dursley's.

Hermione was probably his favorite. She reminded him of Elizabeth a little bit. He could see her being a Hermione when she'd gone to school, smart and clever, resourceful. So of course Hermione was his favorite.

"What's the next book about?" he asked as she got up to put the third one on his shelf.

"Well, I don't want to give anything away, but it's mostly about a tournament that's being held at Hogwarts. There are dragons and mermaids, a maze near the end."

"Dragons are awesome," Michael said. "They can shoot fire out of their mouth."

Elizabeth smiled. "I think I'll stick to dogs and cats. With my luck, I'd be the one it was shooting fire at."

Michael settled more into his bed. "What're we doing tomorrow? The basement still?"

"Probably a little bit. Not all day. We might could drop some of the stuff off at a Goodwill or something, just to get out of the house a little bit."

"That would be good."

"Okay. Good night, Michael."

"Night, Miss Elizabeth." ---------- Once Elizabeth got to her room, she read a few chapters of the Bible, a habit she had formed ever since she'd first begun to read it. It had become part of her routine to read a chapter of the current Harry Potter book to Michael and then go to her room to read the Bible to herself. Now that she knew Michael really was the Anti-Christ – or had been branded as such – she wasn't so sure him hearing the words and having them burn his ears had been in his head at all; the words might actually hurt him.

All she'd gotten from the Bible so far was that there had been just as much if not more war back in Biblical times than there was even now. It was pretty much God's people against everyone else. The wars were mostly about land matters.

There was nothing about how to defeat the entity in her house. There was also nothing about how to help Michael or Langdon. There was, however, a rule about not using witchcraft.

She wasn't sure what Michal was doing was witchcraft. He wasn't casting spells or lighting candles or doing anything outside the abilities he had been born with. It wasn't his fault he could do things other people couldn't.

What Langdon did, however, was probably witchcraft – rituals, summoning the devil – or trying to – time-traveling . . . definitely witchcraft.

It wasn't until after she'd finished reading for the night and was in the bathroom actually getting ready for bed that she began to feel the strange oppressive force that she'd come to know as the entity in her house. It wasn't with her exactly, but she could feel that it was going to become active. It wanted its presence known.

She heard a few thumps coming from near the kitchen so she went to check after she was done with her nightly routine. There was nothing wrong in the kitchen, so she wasn't sure what it was that she had heard.

"Let's not start this again," she said. "I'll even say please if it'll make you go away."

Honestly, it was late and she just wanted to sleep. She didn't receive a reply and nothing seemed out of place, so she went back to her room. She wasn't going to invite trouble in by actually challenging the thing that was haunting her house when it didn't seem to be threatening her or Michael. ---------- The next morning everything seemed normal. Elizabeth got up, fixed breakfast, waking Michael up with the smell of bacon frying. He came in, bed hair all over the place. He plopped into one of the chairs and began rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"I kept hearing things."

"Me too. But no one was attacked, so that's a step up."

Michael gave her a small smile that was interrupted by a fresh-out-of-bed yawn.

"What was it?" he asked.

"I don't know. I got up to check in here, but I didn't see anything that would've caused the noise."

She quickly fried up some eggs as well so they could have bacon and egg sandwiches and then put them on plates after fixing them up. She placed one of the plates in front of Michael and then one at the place she would be sitting.

"You still want to go to Good Will today?"

"Sure." He took a bite of his sandwich and began chewing. After he swallowed, he asked if they could watch the third Harry Potter movie while eating dinner that night.

"Of course," she said. "That's my favorite one."

"I like the second one the best so far," Michael said.

"Wait until you see the hippogriff. It's great."

After breakfast Elizabeth went out just to see what the weather was going to be like. There was a pretty strong breeze going, so it was a little chilly, but nothing major. She'd probably go for a jog later, once they got back from Good Will.

She went back inside, told Michael to go get dressed to go out, and then headed to the basement so she could figure out what exactly they could donate that day. When she opened the door, however, it didn't take long for her to figure out what exactly she'd been hearing the night before.

All the boxes she and Michael had filled up and set up so they could get to them easily were now toppled over and the items had been strown across the floor.

She sighed, feeling only vaguely irritated, and said, "Seriously? Why?"

Didn't the Devil have something better to do with his time? Something other than wrecking her house.

When Michael made his way downstairs, he stopped at the bottom and said, "What happened?"

"Our uninvited guest has made his presence known once again." She shook her head. "You wanna help? You can probably do it faster with your powers than if we did it by hand."

Michael nodded and grinned before stopping and scrunching up his nose. "You don't think it'll make him mad?"

"Do it because it might make him mad."

"I'm not the one he hurts when he gets mad," Michael said softly. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "We can at least get rid of this stuff today and then he won't be able to make a mess out of it again."

There was still plenty that could be made a mess of, but at least the basement wouldn't have so much clutter once some of it was gone. ---------- Elizabeth and Michael dropped the boxes off as they had planned but they went to a nearby park instead of going straight back home. They hadn't gotten out of the house just to get out in a while – mostly because they didn't think it would be allowed, but Elizabeth was willing to test boundaries because she was pretty sure the entity in her house had already learned that Michael would never do what he wanted if she was ever actually seriously hurt by it.

There was a baseball game going on when they got to the park, but instead of sitting on the bleachers to watch they walked outside the fenced-in area. They paid attention enough to make sure a stray ball wasn't going to come over and hit one of them, but that was it.

They mostly talked about the holiday coming up. She'd already told Michael that she had never really been big on celebrating because her family had never been. Michael had only had a few Christmases to pull memories from, but he remembered presents and food but no real change of atmosphere at Constance's house.

"Did you have a Christmas tree?"

"Yeah. She put the hooks on the ornaments and helped put them on."

"Do you want a tree this year?"

Christmas was only a few days away, so it might be hard finding one, but maybe they could get a smaller one.

"I mean, it might be fun," Michael said. "But we don't have to."

She told him her idea about getting a smaller tree and he seemed okay with it, so once they'd made their way around the fence and back to the parking lot, the got in the car and started off for the store.

Elizabeth was the one who turned the radio on. Michael had never seemed to take an interest in music, but he didn't mind listening to it with her in the car.

A song by Queen came on and she began singing along with it. Michael didn't sing with her – he probably didn't know the song, to be fair – but a big smile formed on his face as he listened and watched her trying to hit notes that she couldn't.

Singing badly was worth it if it made him smile like that. ---------- Michael stuck by Elizabeth when they got to the store. He normally did that anyway, but it was busier than normal, so he stayed as close as he could get to her. Even though he got out more with Elizabeth than he had with his gramma, he still didn't like crowds. Too many people made him nervous and he wasn't sure if it had to do with his age or if he just didn't like being around all the commotion crowds usually brought.

Elizabeth seemed to know exactly where she was going, though, so at least they probably wouldn't have to be there long. The aisles were packed with people, and not all of them had the decency to park their carts on the sides. A lot of people were blocking the middle, so it was like a maze trying to make it to where they wanted to be.

They finally made it to the Christmas tree section and Elizabeth pointed out that they needed just a small tree. There were bigger ones, but Michael pointed out one that was only six feet tall and it had white lights that came with it, already attached. It wouldn't take that much work to decorate it.

Speaking of decorating, Elizabeth let him pick out a few boxes other than the normal baubles that would go on. He picked out a box of bells, a box of candy canes – real ones so they could eat them after they took them back off – and a box of Christmas themed ornaments that came with a few Santa Clauses and a few reindeer.

"Okay, so star or angel?"

Elizabeth was holding one in each hand and Michael pointed to the star. He guessed it didn't really matter. The angel kind of looked like a doll, anyway.

Elizabeth picked up a box of hooks for the ornaments once they had what they wanted.

Having everything they needed, they made their way to the front of the store so Elizabeth could pay for their things. One of the workers helped them with the tree, which was nice, and then once they had been checked through the register Michael helped her take it to the car.

Michael was surprised they didn't have a problem putting the tree box in the car, but it fit in without a problem and then the boxes of ornaments were placed on the floorboard.

"How about we decorate tonight? After dinner and the movie."

He nodded enthusiastically as he agreed that would be the perfect thing for them to do that night.

He wondered how the Christmas tree would look in the living room and where they would put it. He also wondered if Elizabeth would actually have fun doing this since she'd admitted to never really celebrating Christmas before.

[athenasbloodyspear]

The Viper: Chapter Four

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Find this fic on Ao3.

This fic is 18+ for violence and eventual sexual content. Please read at your own risk.

Master list

Everyone was silent as they hurtled across the Atlantic. The void only broke when they finally started to lose altitude as they approached Kyiv and Tony went over the plan again. 

Bucky had only really been paying half attention. Something about trying to save whoever was being kidnapped, and to see if they could get their hands on any intel in the building. They needed to know what Hydra was planning. 

There was a faint hissing sound as the ramp to the jet opened slowly. They were a few miles out from the building they were going to try to break into. Tony believed it was a temporary Hydra camp in a warehouse. A stop on their route. They were holding hostages there, likely waiting for an extraction. The goal was to get in, kill as many agents as possible, free the hostages and get intel. 

Bucky and Tony were on duty to distract hostiles. Steve was in charge of finding and protecting hostages. Nat was on intel. Sam was to stay flexible and assist where needed. They were likely a little outnumbered, but they’d be okay.

“Bucky, are you sure you’re okay to do this?” Steve murmured softly. “You seem a little out of it.” 

“I’m fine, Steve. Just thinking.” 

Steve gave Bucky a solid pat on his shoulder before wandering down the ramp. 

“You’re not crazy.” Nat spoke quietly from where she had crouched to adjust the straps on her boots. “I felt it too. I don’t think she’s working for Hydra.” 

Bucky looked over at Nat then. “Why are you so sure?” 

Nat stared at Bucky for a long moment before standing. “Something about her eyes.”

Bucky grunted. They both stared down the ramp at where Steve and Sam were stretching and Tony was suiting up in silence. 

“You can trust your instincts Buck.” Nat murmured. 

Bucky didn’t say anything else as she sauntered down the ramp and headed into the woods, throwing a snarky “You comin boys?” over her shoulder. 

He wanted to listen to her, but when Hydra was involved he always wondered if it was Bucky or Soldats instincts talking to him. 

--

When they approached the perimeter of the warehouse they split up, Nat and Steve went one direction with Bucky, Tony and Sam heading another. It wasn’t long until they encountered some agents patrolling the perimeter. With the silencers attached to Bucky’s weapons he easily disabled the agents before they could even touch any buttons on their radios. It was a little bit disturbing how quickly Bucky’s mind slipped into a calm. This was a world he knew very well, on both sides of his mind. 

“Alright everyone. Metal man and I are going to make a scene at the front of the building, it’s time for you to get in there.” Tony crooned over the coms. Bucky just rolled his eyes. “What, big guy? It’s not like I’m going to ask you to perform karaoke for your mortal enemies. Unless you want to.” 

“Just get on with it Tony.” Bucky muttered. 

“Gladly.” Tony flew upwards quickly, landing directly in the middle of all of the agents at the front of the building. “Hey there assholes.” 

“Fucking-A…” Bucky mumbled jogging a bit to break through the tree line. He crouched behind a truck and began picking off agents from afar as Tony was blocking bullets and engaging in some intense hand to hand combat near the front door. “By distraction I didn’t think you’d land in the middle of them.” 

“Don’t miss, James.” Tony spluttered between punches. 

“Oh but it would be so easy for me to claim that I was aiming for them right now…” Bucky snapped back. 

“We might need a little help in here…” Nat’s voice suddenly came crackling through the coms. She sounded a little winded. “There’s definitely more baddies here than expected.” 

“We’ll be there in a second.” Tony grunted out, punching the very last of the agents surrounding him directly in the throat. The hostile spluttered and fell to his knees. Bucky put a bullet in his head as he walked past Tony and through the front door. “That was a waste of a bullet.” Tony snapped. 

“He didn’t need to suffer.” Bucky muttered. 

“You’ve gone soft Barnes.” Tony snapped back. 

“Yeah and you’re a dick but you’re not usually evil.” 

“I’m angry, Barnes.” 

“Join the fucking club.” 

“Can you two stop it and get over here? We’re in trouble.” This was Steve this time. “Sam stay outside and make sure we have an exit clear. We might just have to abandon this and come back after for recon.” 

“On it. Aim for the south entrance, that one looks the best for sightlines.” Sam commented from the sky. 

When Tony and Bucky rounded the corner into the main hangar of the warehouse they saw exactly what Steve and Nat had meant. There had to be about thirty agents around them, all engaged with them in hand-to-hand and more kept trickling in from various doors and hallways. 

“Jesus they were ready for us…” Tony muttered. “Fucking Viper.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky barked as he snagged an agent on the outside of the circle around the middle and body slammed him down against the concrete. It seemed everyone was opting for hand to hand combat now that they were all in such close quarters. It was a little too close for anyone to use firearms without risking their friends. 

The four of them seamlessly fell into a rhythm, Bucky and Tony fought through the crowd toward Natasha and Steve before turning and covering their backs. 

“They just keep fucking coming.” Tony grunted. “We’re just going to have to fight toward the south door and maybe gain an advantage outside.” 

A hostile had Bucky in a headlock currently, and he was trying to shift his weight so he could topple him backward when suddenly Bucky felt the splattering of blood across the right side of his face and his attacker crumpled to the ground, nearly taking Bucky with him. Bucky staggered and looked down at the man and found a round bullet hole in his forehead. When he lifted his head to look around he watched as four other hostiles crumpled to the floor as they rushed him, all with matching bullet holes in their foreheads. With the trajectory of the bullets the person must be… behind him? 

He spun and all of the breath punched out of his chest. 

It was you. The Viper. You were repelling quickly down from the ceiling, cocking and reloading your weapon and firing in quick succession at anyone who got too close to any of the four of them. 

You were here. Firing on your own agents. 

What was happening? 

Suddenly all action seemed to pause as everyone realized a new comer had entered the room. Tony, Steve and Nat all looked up at the same time. 

“Jesus christ.” Tony spluttered. 

“Hey fuckers!” You yelled. “Miss me?” 

You hit the ground with a vengeance, springing at the nearest Hydra agent and tackling him to the ground, shoving a knife into his chest. The agents around you all broke into rapid discussions in Russian and from what Bucky could pick out, they were very concerned. No, they were terrified that you were there.  

What the fuck is going on? 

You tore your way through a wall of agents that were rushing you and ran straight at Natasha. Steve jumped in front of Nat quickly and lifted his shield. Tony was half watching you and half punching agents. 

“Easy Captain.” You chuckled. Bucky watched as you reached around the Captain’s shield and plopped a flash drive into Nat’s palm. “Get out the south door. They officially want me more than you at the moment. No offense. It’s personal.” You lifted your gun and fired three times over Nat’s shoulder, clearing a direct path to the door. “Go.” 

Then Bucky watched, completely entranced, as you ran north. Directly opposite of the safe exit. All of the hydra agents paused briefly and seemed to war with what to do. A good chunk of them broke off to follow you. He heard your sultry chuckle and a low “It’s been a while boys” before Steve grabbed his shoulder. 

“Bucky we have to go!” Steve shouted, chucking his shield and knocking down two agents before it ricocheted back into his hands. Steve grabbed him by the elbow and started dragging him toward the south door. Bucky’s feet cooperated and started running, but his attention was still behind him. 

He watched as you flipped and jumped and took down agent after agent with your fists. It was brutal, efficient, and beautiful. You didn’t hesitate. The team was almost at the south door when suddenly a loud blaring alarm sounded and a voice came over the speaker in Russian. Something about code four. They all skidded to a halt, looking at both Bucky and Nat to translate before they ran out a door into the unknown. 

“They’re firing up the anti aircraft guns!” You yelled from the opposite end of the hangar. You’d managed to knock out every agent that had pursued you. You were crouched with your hands on your knees, sucking in deep breaths. There was so much blood on you and it terrified Bucky that he didn’t know if any of it was yours. “There’s no hostages here. There’s no one to save. You have to get out of here. And get your friend out of the sky.” 

You stood, and turned, started running toward a set of stairs on the edge of the room. 

“Where are you going?” Tony called.

“Worried about me Tony Stark?” You quipped as you started climbing the stairs. “How sweet. I’m going to go see if I can fuck with their auto aiming system enough for you to fly your fancy jet out of here.” 

“Where will you go?” Nat called. 

You didn’t answer. You just paused and gave nat a quick smile before slipping through the door and into the compound. 

“Well you heard the woman. Let’s skedaddle.” Tony spoke up. 

The group sprinted out the warehouse doors and surprisingly didn’t run into any agents as they ran through the woods, back to the jet. They met Sam on foot, running through the woods. He must have heard her message through the coms. Back on the jet, Tony started running scans to see what kind of anti-aircraft guns they had. Friday warned that there were multiple missile locks on the jet.

Tony and Friday worked in tandem to see if they could find a way to jam signals or scramble the scanner just enough to get out, but it was unnecessary. After a few minutes of frantic working, Friday informed them that someone must have scrambled the system from the inside because Hydra no longer had a missile lock on the jet. 

“Sir, you have about five minutes of free air before their system goes back online.” 

“Everyone hang on!” Tony yelled, yanking up on the throttle and hurtling them into the air. 

“You okay?” Steve asked Nat, who was hanging onto the straps on her seat tightly and staring blankly out the back window of the jet. 

“She doesn’t think she’s going to make it out.” Nat muttered. 

“What?” Bucky barks. 

“The look in her eyes as she ran out that door. She didn’t enter that warehouse thinking she’d walk out of it. I know that look.” 

“We have to go get her.” Bucky snaps at Tony. 

“Listen, Buck, I’m really glad she helped us out back there, but that doesn’t mean I want to risk all of our lives to go back and pick her up. We still don’t really-” 

“She saved our lives, Steve!” Bucky cut Steve off. He was seething now. “You locked her in a little glass box even though she surrendered to us on her own. You subjected her to tests like a goddamn animal. Exactly like they did to me. You treated her like a monster and she still risked  her life in there. Multiple times. For us. Go back. And. Get. Her.”

There was a moment of tense silence in the jet.   

“He’s right.” Sam whispered. 

“I swear to god Barnes, if I die because we’re turning around to pick up a mass murderer I will personally oversee making your time in hell even worse.” 

Suddenly the jet rattled and the whole team whipped around to watch out the bottom windows as the entire warehouse was engulfed in flames. The explosion caused the whole jet to shudder. 

“No.” Bucky whispered. 

“Fuck.” This was from Nat. 

“Nat. Give me that thumb drive. Whatever was on there must really be worth it to her.” Tony muttered. 

Nat walked slowly to Tony and dropped the flash drive in his hand. Tony hesitated a moment before he put it in the quinjet. “Do you still want to go back?” 

Bucky didn’t say anything as he stared at the flames. 

Tony plugged the flash drive in. 

--

Your lungs were burning and full of ash. 

You’d dragged yourself out of the rubble and crawled a hundred or so yards into the woods before collapsing onto your back. 

You didn’t know if anyone was still alive back there. You were kind of shocked you still were. You really didn’t care at this point if one of them found you and took you out. You just wanted some fresh air and to see the sky.

You were so tired. 

The twilight blue of the sky made you smile. Soon there would be stars. You loved the stars. A little light in the dark. It always spoke to you. 

They had the information. They had more power and resources than you did. They could take care of it. They had to. It was what they did. They saved people. 

You never should have deluded yourself into thinking you would do it with them. You weren’t a savior or a hero. You were a killer. Plain and simple. A monster. Unable to make the right decisions to help anyone but yourself. It was survival and vengeance. That’s all you felt. 

They would help. They would save them. You couldn’t, but you’d gotten the information to the people who could. 

You offered a small smile to the sky before you opened your dry cracked lips to whisper.

“They’ll come get you. You’ll be okay. I promise.”  

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