#give me 1940s fic between them

[divinekangaroo]

i might be super late to the party but i was lurking in he tags and: i would LOVE some more explanation/in depth study of what was going on with Tommy and Finn, especially in the last season. I am still, not confused per es, but just wondering alot about some of the choices

This is so interesting, isn't it, particularly when you look at it comparing what 30yo Tommy says to 11yo Finn in S1 versus what 43yo Tommy says to 25yo Finn in S6.

I will warn this isn't coherent in ANY WAY as my infant is being grumpy, but here's a lump of things which struck me as worthy of indepth consideration:

-S1 Tommy telling Finn "don't be me" versus S6 where Tommy basically forces Finn to break his promise to his wife and drink, a mimicry of all the things Tommy has done (go abstinent, fall off the wagon, break promises to his wives).

-Finn being present at all the various violences the Shelby brothers commit, including as a child picking out his own machete (!!!) for one of the mob battles (think it was Epsom?); doing this well enough that he had a reputation -- Songbird Lady in S5 knew enough about the Shelbys to name her new Songbirds 'Tommy, Arthur and Finn'.

-Accidentally or deliberately, Tommy having set up Finn to develop Tommy's vices - cigarettes, drinking, drugs, whoring - pretty much all by the time Finn turned 16. But S5 Tommy nevertheless being very opposed to Finn developing Tommy's vice for violence and risk-tasking, albeit framed as 'we're too high in criminal hierarchy to do grunt work now' not 'you of all of us never have to risk yourself'

-Finn being involved in and integrated into all their illegal business but as a sort of free labour, gopher ('go for'/fetch like an apprentice, or a squire to a knight) - manning the door, bringing around the car, etc

-Finn seeming to hero-worship Tommy, but actually having a brotherly emotional relationship with Arthur. Tommy to emulate, Arthur to actually be a brother.

-Finn and Arthur being the only ones willing to entertain a conversation with their father on his return - Finn trusted Arthur not Tommy, Finn had no father figure, and Tommy did not fill this father figure space or Finn never would have gone with Arthur.

- Tommy brokering Arthur, John and Polly's marriages, and endorsing Ada's partnerships before the family accept them (and Tommy doing what he likes with his own marriages). Then, this way S6 Finn asks Tommy about marrying a girl 'who likes the life' and Tommy telling him no, 'find a girl who doesn't like the life'. And then Finn marries Mary with Tommy's endorsement to the family, and Mary tells Finn not to drink until after 6pm. I did wonder if Mary was the first girl, or was Mary a different girl that Tommy found/endorsed? Because Mary doesn't seem like a girl who likes the life if she's setting limitations on drinking time?

- Finn was effectively raised by Polly. The Shelby mother and father were gone by the time he was 1. Arthur and Tommy (and John) were gone to war by the time Finn was 5, and only returned at when he was 10. Finn had no father figure, ever.

---

So there's this odd push-pull where Finn is clearly one of the Bad Shelby Brothers, because at that time, having him integrated and present in their business was likely the best and easiest way to signify he was protected as well as keep an eye on him. They also used him very much like a squire to their knights, doing the labour and supportive chores and shitty jobs in order to learn the higher level jobs. But then those many conflicted occurances where it seems that Tommy wishes Finn wasn't so involved? Tommy wishes in many ways Finn was less invested in the business so Finn could be released from it? But maybe he doesn't, because Tommy in multiple circumstances challenges Finn with presentation of a vice and Finn always, always indulges -- even if that time, Tommy said don't rather than do?

---

Then we have this interesting symbolic thing happening in S6 between Duke and Finn and Tommy, all revolving around watches.

Duke steals Arthur's watch -- 'I can tell the time' - and in S5, Michael's supposed takeover piece has this strong sense of time -- time for the next generation to step up and time for old men like Tommy to step off the stage and Michael fully brings Finn into it (with Finn's consent/support, or unexpectedly??) and the camera focuses on Finn. So, linked to Michael's failed takeover via the motif of time, Duke can also tell it's time for the next generation, demonstrated by getting one over on ol' Arthur?

Then, Duke only believes Tommy is his father after Tommy explains about Duke's mum's watch that actually, Tommy stole in his youth; and Tommy's brought Duke into the fold so preciptiously because Tommy's (due to terminal diagnosis) running out of time to tidy up his family's loose ends and has to do this now. But also, Duke is symbolically returning time to Tommy that Tommy otherwise wouldn't have by bringing back Tommy's decades-old stolen watch?

Then Tommy has that explosion at Finn about drinking when he wants to and uses Finn's watch to make his point: that says Shelby and you're a Shelby so you tell the watch what time it is. Behind all that is this sense that I bet Tommy wishes he could control time, too, because he'd love to wind it back right now that his time is running out, but also, Finn is a young Shelby and could determine it's time for himself to step up if he simply stopped doing what Tommy kept telling him to do?

In a world where Tommy wasn't running out of time and/or Duke didn't appear, I imagine Finn may have been brought to one side for a quiet chat about Billy Grade and his role in Polly's death. I imagine Finn would have been absolutely destroyed that his sole true caretaker figure was dead because of his loose tongue. I imagine he would have killed Billy, or at least supported Billy being executed. But in this world, Tommy is dying and running out of time, and Tommy is delegating many of his painful tasks to others to do because he can't do everything right now, and why not test both Duke and Finn? Test this next generation as to their readiness to take his place? And who's left in the next generation but for Finn and Duke given Michael's proven himself unsuitable and Charlie is far too young? (I'm sure Uncle Charlie probably had some secret remit to re-home Duke if Duke failed in that scenario too)

---

And I also find it a super interesting parallel that Tommy forces Finn to demonstrate Shelby family loyalty by shooting his best friend, an act Tommy himself did with shooting Alfie for Alfie's betrayal that nearly killed Arthur. In this instance Arthur only almost died so Alfie only almost died - whereas Billy had to really fully die.

---

I mean, none of this gets to a satisfactory conclusion, it's just a bunch of conflicted threads/thoughts. I feel Tommy was vaguely treating Finn like a squire in a faint anticipation of one having Finn step up and take over the business from him, there's a near 20-year age gap between them, but Tommy was always conflicted by this because 1) he didn't really want his littlest brother to have to do the same shit he did, and 2) Finn was not leadership material, smart or cunning in any way, he was really just a consumer of the Shelby proceeds and always obeyed and never really acted to assert himself in the hierarchy. This faintest possibility of Finn taking over was then derailed heavily by Michael who was smart so Tommy dropped those vague unformed thoughts about Finn, but after Tommy knew Michael would be out of the picture in some way in S4 when suspicions start to rise? Finn starts to show up again in Tommy's arc in a very different way, and is put under various levels of pressure, right up to this S6 contrived scenario between Finn and Duke.

I get a sense that over time, Tommy challenged Finn repeatedly with situations of vice, corruption, conflict, difficulty, in the hope Finn would demonstrate enough strength to push back against Tommy instead of performing the vice. But Finn never did, and even when he fucked up, it was a silly mistake not worthy of any respect, not even in the way Michael is worthy of the respect of being killed; and so he is always framed in Tommy's mind as the weak one. There's a clannish behaviour (where clans are about constantly fluid status, not granted/earned and static rank) where you only get status if you behave in a way that already is of that status. Finn never, ever did this. Tommy then contrives a situation of extreme pressure as a last ditch effort to see if Finn will stop being that squire, weak one, or will he finally act according to the status he should be able to claim.

It's also this working class thing of dumping shit and abuse on your sons until your sons are strong enough to force you to stop. Finn's not a son, but that mentality...

---

I'm sorry this is so rambly, one of those fun things that it takes more time to be brief and succinct than just word-vomit on a screen XD Post S6, I have only two fic concepts in my to-write list, and one of them is 100% about Finn, trying to reconcile all of the above. I think Finn's actor did an amazing job of packing so much pain into that final scene it'd be a disappointment if any eventual movie doesn't give him a heavy arc.

[the-winter-spider]

But Daddy I Love Him | B.Barnes

Word Count: 3k

Pairings: Bucky barnes x reader

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, angst

A/N: This is an older fic i had, that really was going nowhere decided to start working on it and here we are! Not edited or proof read.

Masterlist

—

1940s

You were anxiously waiting on his front steps, your right knee bouncing up and down, while your shaking fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your dress. You knew the boys would be back anytime soon from whatever double date they were on, because Bucky promised you that no matter what he would be home at 9pm sharp for you and every night since then he has been, but tonight he was cutting it close.

You pushed up your sleeve and looked down at your watch. It was 9:52pm, he was late. You let out a loud sigh, you stood up and brushed your dress off because god forbid if you went home and your father saw dirt on your silk dress he would know exactly where you went and you were so afraid he would raise his hand to you again, taking one final glance at your watch you knew he wasn't coming. You couldn't blame him either because you’ve never needed him before so he probably just thought being a little late wouldn’t do any damage. You placed your clutch down beside you, placing your head between your hands letting the tears flow thinking of the events that happened just 30 minutes before.

—

Flashback

“You will marry him!” Your father shouted at you slamming his fist down into his desk in the study.

You clenched your fists your nails digging into your skin, you could feel the nails breaking the skin on the palm of your hand, your heart was thumping so loud you almost didn’t here the words come out of your mouth, you’ve said them in your bathroom in front of the mirror so many times you almost didn’t believe this was real till you felt your father's open hand hit right cheek, his rings slicing open skin, your head went sharply to the left, your grasped your cheek out of instinct.

“What did you say?” He was standing directly in front of you, it felt like some old movie western showdown. He was challenging you.

You took a big breath turning your head to face him, looking him in the eyes “No Father, I will not be marrying him, I will not be marrying a man I am not in love with! I don’t love him!”

Your father scoffed, stomping back over to his desk“Yeah what do you know about love?” Taking a drink out of his whisky.

“More than you” You whispered

He turned to face you, whisky in hand “Let me guess you are in love with that poor, scumbag of a man, no, a boy who lived across town?” He paused, waiting for a response, he laughed when you didn’t give one, of course he was right, he always was. “You will NEVER have a life with him, you will live on the streets if you marry that boy!”

Tears were welling in your eyes “At least I will be loved!”

“He doesn’t even love you! Or he wouldn’t be out with a different girl every night, you do not think i know? You think because I am an old man I do not keep tabs on my only daughter?” He finished what was left of his whiskey, his eyes dark. When he was drunk he was always so malicious, you were waiting for another punch to the gut, not literally, now that was out of pocket, even for your Father nowadays “I see him y’know, around town, always out dancing with some pretty girl, a new one every week, never you though. You’re a Stark for christ sake, you have brains i know you do, so why don’t you fucking use them? He doesn’t love you! You WILL marry William's son and that's final!” your father grabbed his empty whisky glass throwing it directly at the wall beside your head just missing you, as it shattered beside you. You ran out of his study grabbing your clutch on the way out. As you were about to leave you heard your father shout “If you leave you never come back you hear, you ungrateful brat!”

—

Wiping your tears away you started walking in the opposite direction of Bucky and Steve's apartment. Tears were already streaming down your bruising cheek, tonight was the worst your father ever hit you. He wasn’t always like that, honestly he wasn’t at all till you turned of age. It got especially worse when your older brother was starting to live up to your last name and while you were never expected to be anything more than someone's arm candy, your father held the standards of whomever you were to marry so high, and your taste was never good enough according to him. So the fights broke out almost weekly, you would go on the dates him and your mother would aet you up on but he would lose it on you when they never would go past a second or third date because well as the men would put it you were “rude” “off putting” “gorgeous but with a mouth on her” “Not wife material” and your Father started to have enough of it, he would scream, throw things, grip your wrists, or shoulders a little too tight and recently his ringed hand would find your cheek. You just couldn't understand why he didn't want you to marry for love, why he didn't want someone who loved you has your husband not just rich asshole who was marrying you for your looks, your families money or more importantly because of your last name, Stark

As you were walking away, not knowing where you were going because surely your father would still be up and you couldn’t deal with that right now. With him apologising, saying he was sorry but he had lost his temper, that it wouldn’t happen again, not like this. That you could talk about it more in the morning when things have calmed down, which you wouldn’t because he would come home from work and tell you all about someone at works son or brother whom were single and looking for a wife and you would smile, nod go on the dates and well it was a cycle you were over. This time was the last straw.

You decided to walk, you had no idea where to because well you had nowhere to go but it beat sitting around waiting for someone who might not show up at all. Maybe you were just being bitter because you knew Bucky and if he knew you were sitting on his front step, even if you were okay and nothing was wrong he’d be there in a heartbeat. But what your Father said to you was starting to itch, you tried not to scratch it but you couldn’t help it because even though you hated to admit it sometimes he was a genius.

You couldn’t help but wonder why he never tried to make a move, you gave him so many opportunities, and by all means you made it so obvious it's what you wanted and that it was okay to do so.

—

Flashback

“Where's Steve?” You leaned slightly to the right to look behind Bucky for any sign of your best friend.

“He’s not feeling well, decided to sit this one out” Bucky shrugged his shoulder, his arm reaching out to grab your hand, intertwining it with yours.

You knew Steve was prone to getting sick, it happened a lot but each time it happened you still couldn’t help but feel bad Steve didn’t deserve all the shit he got put through “Maybe we should go get some of that soup he loves and we could go get …”

Bucky cut you off with his laugh, smiling lightly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. He knew your concern and care for Steve, always tending to his health and well-being. But, at the moment, Bucky had other plans in mind.

He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and whispered in your ear. "You know, I was thinking. Since Steve's not here, maybe we can take advantage of the opportunity to have some fun just for ourselves."

When you got stiff and didn't reply he spoke again, a cheeky smile playing across his lips as he tried to persuade you to set aside your worries for Steve's well-being. "Listen, doll, Steve's a tough fella. I'm sure he'll manage just fine on his own.”

You sighed leaning into him, slightly bumping your shoulder with his “I guess you're right Buck, i just worry about him y'know. But it would be nice to spend time together, just us two, I don't remember the last time we did…”

He let go of your hand, throwing his arms up “Eureka!” He shouted “That's the spirit” He flung his arm around your shoulder

You laughed at his dramatica, swinging your arm around his waist “Okay Buck” You grinned looking up at him “So where to first?”

Bucky chuckled at your question, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He was glad you agreed to spend some time together without Steve. He wouldn’t tell you that maybe Steve being sick was a tiny fib. Steve himself told Bucky to tell you in hopes that some alone time with you would make Bucky finally tell you how he felt.

"Well, doll, the worlds at our fingertips. Maybe we could check out some of those fancy new technologies? Or we could just wander around and see where the night takes us."

You slightly rolled your eyes, you loved that Bucky was so into all the new technologies your big brother, Howard came up with but it was something you already knew like the back of your hand and you didn't want to waste your night alone with Bucky, the very few you got i might add, talking about how amazing your brother was, it was something you already heard enough about at home.

“Am I not good enough to take dancing like all your other dames?” You smirked “I don't remember the last time i went dancing Buck” A slight whine to your voice

He smiled looking down at you “Well sweetheart if we do that then i'll never be able to dance with any other girl again”

You laughed, you had been in love with Bucky for years and these little moments where he flirted with you filled your heart with such joy, made it grow two sizes too big but the despair always lingered in the pit of your stomach knowing he did the same with every other girl but they also got to kiss those beautiful lips, you shook the feeling away “Why's that you flirt?”

Bucky smiled fondly looking down at you “Because none of them could ever come even close to having you in my arms, i'll never be the same after twirling you around the dance floor, they don't compare doll, id never be able to find another dance partner good enough” He paused “So i'm afraid if i take you dancing tonight, you’ll be my only dance partner for the rest of my life, if that's okay with you”

“As sweet as that statement was, i can't see you ever only having one dance partner for the rest of your life, let alone little old me”

His brows furrowed, he hated when you belittle yourself “You being the only dance partner for the rest of my life would be my greatest accomplishment doll”

—

All three of you knew, especially Steve how you and Bucky truly felt about each other but he never said anything because he knew just as well as you two did that you could never be together, your father simply wouldn't allow it, Bucky didn't come from money like you, therefore it wasnt allowed, so you both pushed those feelings as far down as possibly, Bucky handled his by smothering them in other women and you well swept it under the rug like your dearest mother had taught you, both your feelings for Bucky and your pain each time he got back from a date with another women.

“y/n?” A soft voice broke you out of your thoughts, you never realized how far you made it till you took in your surroundings, you were at some random park on the other side of town.

“Stevie? What are you doing here?” You sniffled trying your best to hide your face.

“Well y’know, the dame Bucky set me up with wasn’t interested so i left, Bucky told me to wait here but that was, i don't know how long ago” He scratched the back of his head

“Its 10:19pm if that helps” You offered a small smile. You could see the look on Steve's face when he registered that Bucky was late late “y/n, I-“

“Its fine Steve really, it was bound to happen at some point”

“So uh, where were you off to, this isn’t exactly your side of town, you should be careful”

“I should be careful huh? Who was the one who’s butt i saved last week” you slightly shoved his shoulder and giggled and that's when the smile was completely wiped off your face, Steve's face hardened and was laced with anger and concern, you dropped your face, he saw it, you knew he would eventually but you still felt ashamed and insecure “y/n?” Steve said softly and took a step towards you and you took a step back, Steve looked hurt but stopped moving “Did your Father do this to you? I thought you said he stopped?”

“He did, for a little while, things were okay” You shrugged “It's really nothing, I should get going”

“y/n!” Steve said again a little louder, he gently grabbed your arms to stop you from leaving. You froze when he touched you, and looked up at him. The light on the sidewalk was just enough to show him the full extent of the damage and it broke his heart to see you so defeated.

“Nothing?! You have a black eye and your cheek is swollen, your lip is split, that is not nothing!” Steve shouted and for someone so small his voice was loud and stern, it made you flinch, His face softened when he watched you “Y/n, i didn't mean to yell, but you can't go back”

A single tear rolled down your check “I have to, my marriage is already arranged and it's not like he's giving me a reason to —“ You were cut off by that voice, the voice of the man you were so desperately in love with the voice of the man you wanted to be with more than anything, you so desperately wanted to run into his arms and stay there forever, but they weren’t yours.

“Steve you will never believe the night I just had this dame she was something spec…” He froze when he noticed you, his eyes trying to adjust to the darkness “Doll? What are you doing all the way out here?”

His smile turned into a frown when he got a good look at your face, it was obvious what had happened. Bucky slowly took a few steps closer to you, trying to make sure to give you plenty of space because he could tell that you were already on edge.

"Doll, who did this to you?" He asked gently, his eyes slowly roaming over the marks on your skin.

You tool a step back, flinching away from Bucky Your head hung low “I have to go” you said barely above a whisper

Bucky's frown deepened as he watched you take a few more steps back. He wanted to reach out and grab you, pull you into his arms, and never let you go, but he knew that would only make things worse.

"No, you don't" he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "You aren't going back to your house”

The tears you just finished wiping clean were now streaming freshly down your face again “I have nowhere else to go Buck, I have no one else!” You sadly shouted

Bucky's heart ached when he saw the tears streaming down your face. He closed the distance between you in three large strides and pulled you tightly against him, his arms wrapping around you in a firm but gentle embrace.

"You have me, doll. You will always have me" he said as he gently stroked your hair, trying to soothe you

“Do i?” You whispered your bitter heartache coming to the surface as you pushed him away “Because it feels like every other girls in Brooklyn has you but me”

Bucky froze, his heart clenching at your words. He couldn't deny that he had been with other girls, no, he couldn't deny that every night, he had been out dancing and laughing with another dame on his arm. The look of pain on your face made him hate himself even more for his behaviour. "You do have me y/n, you gotta know that please, id leave them all behind for you."

You scoffed “Well you sure could have fooled me!”

Bucky's heart broke as you spoke. He knew he had messed up, he had gone out and had all these flings hoping that maybe one of these girls would make him forget just how in love with you he is. But they didn't, all it did was hurt you, the one person he never wanted to hurt, and he hated himself for it.

"Doll, please. I—" he cut himself off, he didn't know what to say that would be enough to undo the pain he had caused.

“Just forget it Buck” You wiped your last tear flinching when you grazed your cut from your fathers wedding ring.

You started to walk away before turning around, your voice breaking “Please don't follow me”

Bucky's heart dropped as you turned your back to him and started walking away. Every fibre of his being wanted to go after you, to pull you back into his arms and never let you go, but he knew that you needed space.

He stood there watching as you walked further and further away, his heart aching and his mind racing, he could barely find the words to speak as you told him to stay there. For once in his life Bucky was speechless, frozen.

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale loves Crowley but...

(A clickbait title? Me? Possibly)

There's this thought rattling in my brain for a good while and I have to try to get it out.

So most of the fandom seems to operate under the impression that Crowley loves Aziraphale unreservedly (since Eden) and that he is waiting for the angel to catch up with him.

This is evident across metas here, and many posts and comments elsewhere. Even fics (if I'm permitted to say that) keep dancing around the idea that Crowley never knows where he stands. It's not that obvious how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (especially to Crowley). Because Aziraphale is forever denying their connection (as if he didn’t have good enough reason) and/or also that Crowley, who is always open about his feelings, is waiting for Aziraphale to finally admit at some point (sooner than later please) how he feels so they can be together (...I'm not going there today...).

But I did have discussions with people from other countries and cultures. Notably @sayuri-of-the-valley who told me that most people in their country would assume Aziraphale is the smitten one and it's not so obvious how Crowley feels (he might be just toying with the angel?).

So I've been thinking about how Aziraphale feels from what we see.

In Before the Beginning, which is their first encounter, Aziraphale is immediately taken by the sweet, pretty, enthusiastic angel who seems completely oblivious to Aziraphale's hopes to be noticed.

We do not know if they meet again as angels or how long after their meeting the Great War happens. I would think this is not their only encounter. But it could be. I think they became friends and at some later point Angel!Crowley asked Aziraphale to join in the rebellion (or at least come with him to hang out with the guys and find out what it's about). But forever cautious Aziraphale warned him that it's not a good idea and refused and ... Crowley Fell.

Next time they see each other is in Eden.

They seem to recognise each other and Crawley is clearly pretty happy to see Aziraphale who does not introduce himself but Aziraphale gently prompts the demon to introduce himself.

Aziraphale seems a little unsure how they stand at first ... ...and I think it's because of what has transpired before the Fall (is Aziraphale forgiven?). But as Crawley gently teases him about the recently passed events, Aziraphale is assured and trusts Crawley as if nothing much changed between them and he readily admits he's given away his sword to the demon. (The truth of which he does not disclose to God Herself.)

Their relationship progresses as far as it can in the circumstances over the next centuries and millennia, they both care and look after each other. Until the next big heart-breaking 'break-up' happens. An impossible ask.

You can see how this request basically pierces Aziraphale's heart. He would prefer they don't see each other again than give in to such extraordinarily dangerous request. Out of the question! This would mean the end of existence for Crowley. He would not just be discorporated, not 'just' taken away. He'd be gone.

If they truly don't see each other for almost 80 years, this must have hurt so so deeply.

Next they see each other then, it's 1941. I know some people HC that Crowley slept until then but I think it's very unlikely. He seems to know what is happening with WWII, and besides, he has his car, which he says he has from new and you wouldn't buy a 1926 Bentley new in 1940.

So back to the husbands. Aziraphale might very well think he will never be forgiven for his resolute refusal of handing Crowley the one thing that can so easily simply wipe him from existence.

When Crowley shows up in the church, Aziraphale yet again is not sure where he stands. Is he forgiven? What is Crowley coming to do? (No, I don't think Aziraphale thought Crowley was coming with revenge or anything similar, I assume it's as he says, as Aziraphale assumes he's there because of his job, to do something for Hell). But Crowley assures him that is not the case and they fall into their usual bickering.

And all is well. Aziraphale breathes out and THEN Crowley remembers to save his books.

And Aziraphale knows he's forgiven.

When 1967 comes around and he hears about Crowley's frankly insane decision to get some humans to source holy water for him, the angel breaks his own heart and hands Crowley a double walled, securely closed vessel with the dangerous substance just because it's the safer option.

The next break up is...

After that they 'see' each other when Aziraphale's (soul? essence?) discorporated self finds Crowley drinking in the pub.

Crowley tells Aziraphale he lost his best friend... What is Aziraphale thinking?

Yet again, I suppose he's unsure where he stands. He did after all made a decision to do something Crowley disagreed with. And Crowley left. Twice. Aziraphale didn't want to run. He was going to try and find a way to save the Earth even if it meant to try and talk to God and whatever consequences would follow from that.

But Crowley is so gentle with him as he tells him his home burned down. He even has the one book Aziraphale really needed, somehow saved. So Aziraphale asks for help. They can do this.

And they do.

So we see Aziraphale through aeons, looking up to Crowley, admiring his wit, integrity, being exasperated with him, trying to keep him safe - from unreasonable requests just as much as from rash decisions and words that can have severe consequences. Aziraphale is an angel who is unlike any other. He finds himself, long before the rebellion of half the Host is a thing, in knowledge that some things should not be mentioned or suggested or criticised and he tries to stop this lovely angel he just met from getting into trouble.

Which he keeps doing for millions of years...

However. It doesn't always work. The angel Falls. He is hurt and abandoned by the God who made him and deemed unforgivable. He is threatened and punished when he just wants to be himself and Aziraphale sees all of this and loves him and tries to keep him safe and he is not always succeeding, having to make more and more difficult decisions.

And Aziraphale doubts himself. Is he good enough. Is something wrong with him. We see how anxious he gets all the time. What is he doing wrong. They were never allowed to speak to each other about how they feel. For the longest time they didn’t even know how to name their feelings I’m sure. They didn’t make any promises.

They both hope, yes but where I see people HC that Crowley doubts an angel would unconditionally love a demon (maybe he does, but I don’t really see it - I think Crowley knows all that talk of fiends is just a cover), I also see that Aziraphale thinks he’s not good enough. That he can’t give enough and that it’s a problem (it is to some fans but if he’s ever holding back - ‘you go too fast for me Crowley’, it’s only ever to keep the demon safe).

But yes, I think Crowley thinks the chasm that can’t be overcome between them is the angel/demon one. Because She made him unforgivable. And Aziraphale thinks that their world would never allow them to be together (and he’s right) and he simply can’t agree to trying when it’s doomed to failure. If they run, how long would they have together? What kind of freedom would they have as hunted outcasts? So he keeps making these difficult decisions. And feeling so guilty for them.

The hardest of which we meet at the end of Season Two.

Aziraphale meets the Second in Command of the ruler of their world who 'invites' him to run Heaven. After Aziraphale refuses several times, we see him enter his home and tell Crowley that he got an offer and ask Crowley to come with him.

And Crowley. Says no.

And all the subsequent metas focus on how Crowley was betrayed by Aziraphale's 'decision', how Aziraphale does not deserve to be loved or wanted or be forgiven by the demon.

And how does Aziraphale feel?

Does Aziraphale still think he can be forgiven?

[identityflawed]

an honest, (very) in-depth review on “cerulean eyes for the damaged soul,” chapters 1 and 2

warning: much like a marriage between a 1940s lesbian and a military man in wwii, this review is long and unhappy.

edit: upon getting in a digital squabble over the concern that the author will see this and potentially quit writing forever despite having thousands of fans and lots of good press… i will say very clearly that this is a subjective post. contained within are opinions on a fic i didn’t like. you might disagree with me, and that’s fine. this is not done as a personal attack on the author; i am just sharing my opinion in my own way. if you LIKED this fic with a passion, i would not advise reading this. if you are the author, by some small chance, i also wouldn’t advise reading this unless you’re in the right headspace to engage with my brand of criticism.

i’ll start off by saying i have no ill will towards the author of this story, loveshazel. writing is no easy task, especially when you’re juggling extremely nuanced situations like the ones in arcane and the ones in wwii. i happen to be one of those people who think that when you’re putting your characters into a real-world global tragedy, you should be very thoughtful about how you do it. i haven’t read all 32 chapters of the piece, and i probably won’t read them, either, because the first chapter of any book has to hook me in, not cast me out to sea without a buoy.

the following is a review that i wrote AS i was reading the fic, so certain things i say are later “solved” by other information provided. i put it in quotes because nothing is really solved.

for those who haven’t read it, i’ll give you the basic premise, which is detailed in the tags and the blurb. it’s a wwii au where vi is a US air force pilot and caitlyn is a farmer in the french countryside. it sounds interesting until you think about it.

put simply, this fic is overhyped given it’s quality. this fic is not super well-written, from the characterization to the prose (especially the prose). you can love it if you want to love it, but i can’t count the amount of posts i’ve seen saying this is an amazing piece when i see dialogue with no punctuation and an innately flawed story concept.

“this idea sucks, darling” says caitlyn.

“i’m doing my best to do my best,” says vi.

it seems like the author is trying their best to sound professional and ao3-esque by not using contractions and by over-describing things without actually using new words to describe them. and also (this is definitely more nitpicky) they use actual numbers instead of typing them out, which is like a prose no-no for me if you’re trying to be professional and ao3-esque. it’s like shatter me, without the excuse of insanity.

“…as she tried her best to land her girl [plane] as best she could.”

tried her best… as best she could. i could forgive you if this wasn’t just the first of many situations where the same word or turn of phrase is used within a sentence or two. vi refers to her plane as her “girl” at least 10 times in one scene.

from the moment of her introduction, caitlyn’s features are described as “long.” after finding vi, whom she presumes is a man, she rolls “him” onto his back twice in as many paragraphs.

i’ll take a brief segue to discuss the questionable choice to make caitlyn a farm girl. most of her (if not her entire) character and conflict revolves around the fact that she’s overwhelmingly rich and sheltered to the ways of the world. you take that away and it isn’t caitlyn kiramman (and it isn’t, her name is caitlyn dubois, but you get what i’m saying, right?) it’s later revealed that she married a frenchman and is originally from britain, but her name isn’t recognizable enough to the nazis to imply that she’s of the same tax bracket as she was in canon (which again, is the most important part of her character and her character flaws).

also, caitlyn has a husband in this, whom she seems to appreciate, which makes the situation kind of messy. i understand that, historically, there’s pressure for women to wed up, but you can’t deny that it’s a little weird to have a cheating trope when the husband is away in the army, when the homewrecker is also part of the military. but that’s personal preference, so don’t think too hard about it.

her husband even has an anne frank-style secret room in their winery, conveniently enough. secret rooms to hide jewish refugees are relatively common. this implies her husband is not a nazi sympathizer, which makes me feel even worse for him.

the prose is just incredibly repetitive. i’m not a fan of how many epithets are used, but again, that’s my subjective opinion. there’s a notable amount of blatant info-dumping — which is fine if it’s environmental context for anyone who isn’t super familiar with wwii europe — but a lot of it is convenient justification for certain actions not having to be taken. here’s a few examples in the opening scene alone.

caitlyn has tasked herself with saving this unconscious american pilot from certain death/torture at the hands of the nazis without getting caught. this is a tall order, as it involves dragging an unconscious, grown human from the crash to her farm, covering her tracks, and returning to the crash site as an unsuspecting on-looker. my suspension of disbelief for a story without magic is very low, but even without that… caitlyn manages to do all of that in under ten minutes. her farm is also the 4th closest to the crash, so it’s even less feasible.

i understand caitlyn is intelligent, and maybe the author is attempting to explain her thought process through an overwhelm of information, but covering up tiny plot holes (like how it’ll take nazis x amount of minutes to search exactly 3 farms, which begs the question how she knows they’re gonna go one at a time and not split the work amongst themselves), you miss out on the giant ones. like if she’s so smart and capable as to stow away a whole human being in such a small time frame and is apparently self-assured enough to have a pre-made story ready for the nazis searching the farms, how does she fumble and give away her english maiden name to the nazi interrogators? they’re just asking her name, she shouldn’t be so stressed if she’s daring enough to do what she just did. and the punctuation is a spaced hyphen (“kiramman - dubois”) so it’s unclear if her name is hyphenated or if she genuinely slipped up with 3 whole syllables instead of “kir— dubois”. if it’s the second, it’s plot convenience. if it’s the first, why didn’t the author introduce her as that and/or have the nazi’s refer to her as that after hearing it?

the scene where the nazis are searching caitlyn’s domicile is meant to be stressful, because she’s hiding vi in a secret room in the cellar. but the complete overuse of info-dumping kills the suspense. the author explains things that are already implicitly understood, if not stated before! ex. caitlyn needs to come across as innocent, the nazis are trying to “make her crack,” that they’re threatening her, that she doesn’t want them to find the secret room. show, don’t tell.

it becomes pretty apparent that caitlyn and vi are more “realistic” because they have natural hair colors (caitlyn’s is black and curly, vi’s is light brown). cool, cool. i appreciate that the author makes attempts to change certain things to fit the environment. caitlyn is half-asian, so i’m not sure how that’ll factor into the entire situation here, since she’s not white in 1940s europe in a nazi-controlled portion of france, a time when it wasn’t so great to be anything but white. (the nazis are very polite to her despite this, so maybe she’s just fully white in this, which opens a whole other can of worms).

when the nazi’s finally leave, caitlyn gets her medical supplies and goes to take care of vi, cleaning off her face and realizing that her male pilot is actually a really hot woman with shards of glass in her abdomen. caitlyn has incredible medical knowledge, knowing instinctively that a supposedly-superficial wound could eventually kill vi in several days (because of glass shards). despite this, she decides that she doesn’t need to stitch up vi until she’s conscious. i’m not sure why you would choose to wait on that, since it is still an open wound that you just aggravated by removing the shards which were probably stopping most of the blood from coming out.

fortunately for vi’s life, she wakes up shortly after caitlyn starts to dress her wound (without stitching it, mind you). they exchange a couple sentences, in which caitlyn reveals that she’s trilingual — english, german and french, which is actually very plausible for a european, no hate here — and vi can only speak english (very realistic for us americans, so points to the author on that!).

that is the end of chapter one. initially, i was going to stop it there but i wanted to make sure that some of my claims made in this post aren’t resolved in the next chapter (which would be the most sensible path of things).

the second chapter begins from violet’s POV. she’s in a lot of pain from her stomach wound, but finds caitlyn’s eyes very, very pretty. caitlyn doesn’t want her to fall asleep (she is really determined to make vi stay awake while stitching her wound without anesthesia). vi notes that her wound will get infected if she stays on this dirty cellar floor, which she takes as the reason that caitlyn isn’t letting her sleep (it’s not).

she refers to caitlyn as her saviour (with the u, yes) despite the fact that she has no knowledge of anything about caitlyn. if i was an american fighter pilot who crashed on foreign, nazi-controlled soil and i woke up in a dark, dank room with a woman who hasn’t introduced herself… i’m not seeing her as a savior. i’m worried that she’ll turn me in, if she’s not some prison medic already. the french accent shouldn’t even make her feel safer, because france surrendered to nazi germany 3 years ago! like, hello?

a little history drop for you based on the somewhat vague situation on caitlyn and vi’s ends:

she appears to be in the german-occupied zone of france (northern+western france) in summer 1943 (which is the only thing that is clear). while it’s plausible that she’s somehow in central france because of the eventual case anton in 1942, the fact that she sees the nazis as “familiar” suggests that it’s been a little longer than a year. vi seemed to be flying alone in nazi-controlled airspace when her plane suddenly, inexplicably breaks down (american engineering isn’t great, but in the 1940s it was really fucking good for it’s time. they weren’t called the “arsenal of democracy” for nothing). caitlyn’s husband is in “the military,” which i’m left to assume means the mandatory conscription of the german military, as the northern area of france was intended to be part of the nazi’s new world order.

all that to say that vi shouldn’t trust caitlyn as easily as she does.

but back to the story. caitlyn wants to take vi upstairs so she can get a better look at her injuries, despite the fact that she practically undressed vi and saw all her wounds (and dressed them) already! vi is, of course, very happy with the idea, with no semblance of military training or paranoia, and still no name for the woman who very well may be an enemy. vi also doesn’t care that she’s been undressed by this stranger without her consent, despite the fact that any self-respecting woman of any age would be profoundly concerned about that situation, especially if you’re a part of the military (regardless of whether a woman did it to you or not!). she’s got the serious hots for this woman and none of the fear that you should have, but it’s okay because she has really pretty blue eyes.

she finally notices caitlyn’s french accent and instead of being concerned about being in hostile territory, she wants to hear the story behind it. she even gives caitlyn a nickname to use for her (after introducing herself by her full name), and thinks caitlyn’s name is very pretty. she’s well-versed in etymology and recognizes her name is british. surprise! the name caitlyn is irish gaelic.

vi is given a comfortable bed to lie in and some water to drink, hand-fed (drunk?) to her by caitlyn, even though vi doesn’t actually have any injuries that would keep her from doing it herself. this clashes with the fact that just earlier, she refused to let caitlyn help her walk upstairs with an injury she ACTUALLY has, because she wanted “to show that she was no weakling.” what?

while caitlyn is finally stitching her wound up, vi is thinking about how she’s probably/definitely a woman-lover because she never cared about boys in the same way she did girls. she’s also talking about caitlyn’s hair and how vi is just a tomboy who doesn’t care for makeup or dress-up, and how she really doesn’t want kids but can’t say that because it isn’t commonly-accepted. she’s also a female pilot in wwii, which is arguably LESS commonly accepted than celibacy in the midst of a war, but who cares. in summation, she’s resigned herself to ending up alone, and is apparently expecting to die at age 30.

she realizes that caitlyn is married, which makes her sad. caitlyn explains that she has no clue where her husband is and that it’s just them for now, again spitting in the face of the fact that neither of them should fully trust each other. it is revealed, finally, that caitlyn’s dad was a doctor (pretty similar to the canon situation, so that’s nice), which explains her medical knowledge but not why she decided to delay stitching her wound (if you can’t tell, that tidbit is bothering me).

vi does ask the question i’ve been asking, which is why the hell did caitlyn kiramman marry down? because if she did, she must really love her husband. so… why is she going to cheat? and i say “cheat” because he’s off in the military and probably isn’t coming home any time soon, since i’m still under the impression that he’s been conscripted by nazis.

the next scene takes place the following morning, from caitlyn’s POV. viktor is briefly mentioned as a local physician, with whom she trades milk and vegetables for medical supplies. there is a whole paragraph describing her clothes of the day and another one for her hairstyle. she then gets clothing and a bowl of warm water for vi. vi is very buff and is going to wear caitlyn’s husband’s clothing for now. caitlyn then does farm work, including feeding a young lamb.

here, we learn that she has always desired freedom and traveling the world, which is apparently more likely to happen on a farm in the middle of nowhere than in the rich upper echelons of the british isle. again, WHAT? her husband, george, apparently brought up that having their own land would let them do whatever they wanted, like you can’t already do whatever you want as an incredibly rich heiress in one of the global superpowers of the time. she is not traveling the world from the farm, either (duh), but it seems like the author is trying to set up an opportunity for vi (an actual world traveler) to bond with caitlyn over a “shared” dream. except it isn’t shared, because caitlyn isn’t traveling anywhere.

she then muses over her husband going to war, which he apparently “left” for. that doesn’t sound like he was conscripted or forced to leave, so apparently george is either a nazi or is “illegally” part of the allied forces while his wife is living in nazi territory (great move, george). george also stopped sending her letters 2 years into his tenure as a soldier, and caitlyn realizes she doesn’t give a fuck about that (great move, caitlyn).

her farm work is done, so she makes breakfast for her and vi (and pauline, the dog). vi shows up leaning in the doorway, and caitlyn isn’t happy that she’s up and about while recovering. vi, the girl who had caitlyn tip water into her mouth, says she couldn’t “lie there doing nothing, that’s not in [her] nature.” caitlyn then realizes how good vi looks in her husband’s clothes, “better than her husband ever had.” poor george, dude.

vi introduces herself to pauline, who takes to her very well, but unfortunately pauline only “speaks” french. vi says she needs to learn french so she can talk to pauline (another set-up for fluff?). caitlyn serves the two of them breakfast and apologizes for not making a better meal, to which vi says that it’s the best she’s had in months because army food is shit. which is accurate. nice!

this entire scene could be so cool if not for the fact that vi should be more suspicious of the situation, and shouldn’t assume that anyone’s a sympathizer just because they patched her wound. caitlyn could’ve been keeping her alive to interrogate her, or turn her over for benefits, or some other combination of hostility. but her eyes are very pretty so those ideas can be neglected (if you think i’m repeating the eye bit too much, don’t read the story, because it happens twice as often!).

vi scarfs down her food and caitlyn notices that vi needs a haircut (another setup). vi seems more concerned about the idea of caitlyn kicking her out once she’s recovered than anything else. again, what the fuck? but au contraire! caitlyn thinks that is unsafe for vi if she’s kicked to the curb (it is, good thinking!) and decides to let her stay here until she can get her out of the country. this implies that caitlyn can find a way to get out of nazi-occupied france but just doesn’t want to leave.

caitlyn also seems to know that vi would be good at farm work, and says she needs help on the farm, despite doing it on her own for the past two years without much reluctance (in fact, she seems to enjoy it more on her own, since her husband was apparently a constraint on her freedom).

and despite vi being in the 1940s american military, a time where the propaganda — and patriotism — for america is at an all-time high, she seems to be content to make negative remarks about her people (“i’m not as stupid as most americans”). she’s in the military during the war as a woman, so i understand feeling bitter towards men and maybe her superior officers for the shitty treatment she receives, but she’s an air force PILOT (or is she army? the author mentions both), so there’s no way she hasn’t been positively inundated with pro-american propaganda, or at least holds some respect for her country. the author didn’t do enough research to understand the implications of an american pilot being in foreign territory, so they also probably didn’t realize that vi is RIGHT about americans being stupid (uneducated) because they’re fresh out of the great depression. also why would vi, the zaunite who likes reading books but is probably treated as a moron for most of her life, take jabs at people for being uneducated? it’s a contemporary statement she’s making, one that you’d see on tiktok. one i’d laugh at because it’s accurate now, but it’s not accurate then. no american soldier in their right mind would say that about the people they’re fighting for in 1940s america, you know, before the military kicks them to the curb.

of course, vi agrees to stick around and help out when she can. caitlyn emphasizes that vi can’t be seen outdoors because her neighbors are incredibly nosy (why, we don’t know), and that vi has to hide for unprompted inspections. how they will know when an unexpected inspection is coming, i don’t know, but they’ll “make it work.”

oh, and for bonus info, i went into chapter 3. stopped at the first paragraph, because it states it’s been “several days” since the events of chapter 2, and caitlyn has already discovered how helpful vi is. you know, vi, who is still severely injured and cannot feasibly recover at the pace expected to commit to manual labor such as the kinds found on the farm. and you know, caitlyn, the woman who scolded vi for just standing UP while injured and extolled on how dangerous it is for vi to be outside, decides that vi’s first task will be fixing a fence for hours on the outside. but it’s in a place that the neighbors won’t see, allegedly. can’t you pick an indoor task like maybe cleaning that dirty-ass secret room that vi will probably be hiding in? or a non-physically straining task like cooking breakfast, or bathing pauline?

also, caitlyn, the rich girl from britain who really wanted to travel, has never been overseas, because she’s a woman. (?) caitlyn has more opportunity to travel the world than vi did as an assuredly middle-class (or lower-class) woman from brooklyn, and yet she never did. i was right about the author trying to set something up between vi and caitlyn on this front. i feel miserable.

i’ll conclude with that.

i’m a hater, i know. you don’t have to tell me. i highly doubt you made it through this entire post unless you are a) a fellow hater, or b) trying your best to provide evidence that i’m in the wrong about this fic.

i’m not wrong, and here’s why: it’s my opinion. the reason i spent so little time on the grammar and actual prose and so much time on the set-up of the story is this:

grammar and prose will change with time. inexperienced authors don’t deserve to be shit on extensively for little mistakes. they’re worth mentioning because they’re troublesome to read, but i’m not an asshole who’s going to spend so much time blabbering on about how the dialogue isn’t properly punctuated.

it’s the construct of the story, or rather the lack thereof. the characters aren’t in character, they don’t even look the same, and the author is obsessed with them referring to each other using possessive epithets (her pilot, her savior) so even their NAMES don’t matter at this point. the environment spits in the face of how their characters were founded on where they grew up.

i have a natural dislike for AUs because of this ^ — it is very hard to retain a character’s integrity when you switch out the environment, because a lot of times your environment shapes you. who would you be if you grew up rich instead of poor, or poor instead of rich? if you were in a successful position instead of a dingy, dirty prison? if you were a farmer instead of a cop? if you grew up in a homophobic environment instead of one where you can casually ask if someone is a girl kisser or boy kisser?

at the very least, the author should consider the characters from the show they watched. that’s disregarding the confusion about real-world history, because i can ignore a lot of environmental altering for the sake of the story. but not in world war ii, which is still a contemporary issue (people still deny the holocaust to this day, there are neo-nazis in europe and in america, people still bash france — jokingly, seriously, both or neither — for surrendering in wwii, etc). there’s only so much you can obscure about the atrocities of the war for the sake of romance before it becomes hard to read.

it’s just a shame because there’s so much potential here, but it falls victim to the fact that the author didn’t think things through before writing. i would read the FUCK out of this if it wasn’t caitvi, because caitvi makes no sense here. :(

you could’ve done something great if you just swapped the situations. caitlyn would MAKE SENSE as a hyper-patriotic military pilot with medical training, and vi as a struggling farmer in nazi-occupied france because that tends to the cores of their characters, which are the experiences they’ve had due to privilege or lack thereof. vi IS the kind of person who would marry a man in a shitty financial position (in the middle of nowhere) if it meant she and powder could be safe from nazis and the war, and she’s just unfortunate enough to move to the exact place that hitler targets next. but no, vi is the masculine one who has to be the fighter pilot (who looks like a guy initially) wearing male clothing because she’s so, so muscular, and cait is the feminine one who wears overly-described dresses and aprons with pretty hair, who cooks and cleans.

and the final nail in this coffin:

the fic is tagged as slow burn! this is insta-love. they both think the other one is hot immediately, ignore the fact that they’re in a war and could potentially be enemies (more on vi’s side than caitlyn���s), and immediately adopt a domestic-bliss scenario with virtually no tension in under 5 chapters. this is NOT slow burn, unless you’re talking about slowly burning my time away.

if you enjoyed this fic, i’m glad. if you didn’t, i’m glad. do not try to tell me it gets better, because the fundamental idea of the story is too flawed for me to believe it can improve in ways that matter to me as a writer and as someone who knows a modicum of world history.

so yeah, in short: overhyped and inaccurate.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As Picture - Chapter 11

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: Nothing makes sense.

“I just don’t get it Clint.”

“We’ll figure it out Y/N, same as we always do. The same as you always do.”

You sniffed and nodded as Natasha and Bruce gave up with their loitering and entered the room.

“Hey” Natasha said softly. Bruce squeezed your arm and smiled warmly as he started to check the monitors you were attached to as he glanced at the Stark Pad in his hand. Nat slotted herself beside Clint and pushed the hair from your face, mopping your tears with her sleeve.

“Here.” Steve interrupted passing her a handkerchief.

“How 1940s of you Rogers.” She said sarcastically as she used it to dab at your tears. “You gave us quite the scare sweetie.”

You mumbled sorry as you fought back tears and tried to push down the lump in your throat.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Like I’ve taken on fifty hostiles, been shot at, stabbed and blown up and walked hundreds of miles.”

“Well” Clint started “it’s no wonder you slept for three days.”

You glanced at Bruce as a memory popped into your head.

“Did I ask you to knock me out?”

“You did. Only Doctor Cho and I worked on you. Any samples were destroyed. You don’t need to worry.”

You side-eyed Steve and Bucky and glanced back at Natasha and Clint. They both shook their heads.

“They’re not stupid though Y/N. Even if they do look it right now, with the whole lost puppy look.”

You looked up at them both and they smiled in return, Bucky brushing the stray tears from his face. You felt a pull as you looked between them both. A fluttering in your chest that spread through your body. You felt your cheeks flush as they returned your gaze and you looked away quickly and back at Nathaniel in your arms.

“When did you get here?” You asked Clint.

“An hour or two after you did. We were on a call to the others when word came in you were MIA.”

“Word from who?”

“Maria.”

“Oh fuck, I tried to hit her didn’t I?”

“You did.”

You huffed. You were going to have to apologise which you hated doing, but you respected Maria, and this wasn’t entirely her fault.

“And before you say it” Nat said interrupting your thoughts “you don’t need to apologise to her. She knows she had it coming. I know your cute British manners will struggle with that but let it go. For now at least.”

You huffed again.

“Nat, can you book me out on the system for a few days.”

“I’ve already done it and you’re taking a month off and don’t argue.”

You scowled. Before you had a chance to start a debate with her Bruce appeared at your side.

“You suffered catastrophic injuries Y/N. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a week. We had to rebreak some of your bones, you were in the cradle for a day and a half. Your suit was keeping you together. Even with your accelerated healing, it’s gonna take a while. Any normal person would be dead.”

“Good job you’re not normal hey kid.” Clint joked, trying to lighten the mood. You rolled your eyes in response and shook your head in amusement.

“But she’s gonna recover right?” Steve asked, having been silent throughout your exchange with the others.

“As long as she gives her body chance to heal, she’ll be fine.” Bruce replied.

“Which means you have to let us take care of you.” Nat added.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Hey” Steve said, pulling your attention to him as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed “even I have to take a break sometimes, whilst things stitch themselves back together.”

“Yeah, well my serums probably a knock off version of yours so?” you shrugged.

“Then you and I have that in common.” Bucky added, joining the conversation.

“This still doesn't make any sense”

“Sweetheart, when I came out the ice I had no-one and then I got these guys.” Steve replied. You pulled a face.

“I know, I know and we’ve had some ups and downs. Aliens came out the sky, Shield fell, I found out Bucky was alive, Ultron and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, and if I’ve learnt anything since I came off the ice it’s that plenty of things don’t make sense, not logically anyway and yet somehow they do.” He said glancing around the room at his soul family.

“I’m not sure I’m who you think I am though.”

“You are doll, I know it and I know you feel it too.” Bucky replied. You went to look away but Bucky stopped you cupping your face with his metal hand gently tilted your head to look at him. “Look me in the eyes and say you don’t feel this.”

Your eyes welled up. You couldn’t. The pull, the tether that connected you was clear and firm and there was no denying it.

“I can’t.”

Bucky leant forward and kissed you on the forehead. You let out a shuddered breath. He released you as Steve moved to cup your face and kiss you on the cheek.

“Hang on Romeo, aren't you Peggy Carter’s……..” you stopped midsentence as you zoned out, a memory jumping into your brain.

You’d met Peggy Carter, albeit briefly. She’d retired, rumours of her health were rife but she still consulted here and there. A shock reappearance of some Nazi war criminals in London had led her to MI5. She passed by your desk and you’d immediately felt her eyes on you. Thirty minutes later you were in the meeting she was co-chairing, with you being told your presence was requested as the Analyst that had found them. When you’d entered the room Peggy looked like she’d seen a ghost. You gasped in realisation.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Steve asked. His eyes widened as the monitors you were attached to started to beep furiously.

“Sweetie what is it?” Natasha asked, stroking your arm.

“I met her. I met Peggy and she, she looked at me, she thought she knew me. Do I look like I did then? Like your soulmate did then? Did I know Peggy?” you asked, your voice panicked and full of emotion. Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance and nodded.

“How? How old am I? Bruce! How old am I?” You asked clearly agitated.

“As far as we know you’re the age you think you are. If you weren’t your routine testing would have flagged it.”

“Run it again.”

“Y/N.”

“Run it again, and ask Cho and Stark to look at it too.”

“Kid, I know that analytic brain of yours is trying to process right now but you need to slowdown and take a minute. We’ll figure it out.” Clint said, trying to reassure you.

“You say we'll figure out, and yet stars and stripes over here says it doesn't have to make sense, so which is it? I need to get out of this bed.” You went to move and there was a rush to stop you, as panicked voices filled your ears.

“You’ll stay put and hold your godson. That’s the first time he’s been settled in days. Keep your ass in that bed.”

You huffed and scowled in frustration but stayed put. Steve exchanged a knowing glance at Clint. You were as stubborn as you’d been before but you clearly adored Nathanial and had no intention of waking a sleeping baby.

“It still doesn’t make sense. Are you sure?” You turned your frown towards Bucky and Steve, narrowing your eyes at them. Steve watched as Clint shook his head in frustration, and Nat rolled her eyes. Bruce stayed quiet but his glance over his glasses at you said it all. You weren’t going to just accept this, you were stubborn but you also needed facts.

“You said you felt it. That you feel this.” Bucky said, gesturing between you both.

“I, I don’t know what to say. It doesn’t make sense. You were born then, you're from back then and I'm now. I'm from now.” you rambled.

Steve stood and reached into his pocket and pulled out his compass. You followed his movements and watched as he removed the picture of Peggy Carter. There behind it was a clear, although old, photo. Steve held the compass out to you and you took it with your free hand. Instead of Peggy Carter, you found yourself looking back at you. You let out a shuddered breath and in a grief stricken voice spoke one word.

“How?”

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[damianbugs]

i often include some obscure symbolism in my fics without any real desire to point them out but i was rereading an old piece of mine and remembered one i was rather proud of;

it's from YOU MUST KNOW LIFE TO KNOW DECAY. which is a canon-adjacent story about jason's experience with rain throughout his life. it spans over many years, starting from before his parent's death, to the present as red hood.

the rain itself is the massive metaphor and motif, obviously, but within that i snuck in some other key aspects to jason's character. the one i want to talk about it from the second section of the fic (unofficially dubbed "No!" and the period in time where jason was homeless):

in this scene jason's belongings have been dumped out of his bag into the rain over a misunderstanding, amongst these scarce objects are two things — an old book belonging to Willis Todd, and a photograph of Catherine Todd (the one jason has at his place when bruce comes to find him in Batman (1940) #408).

this photo always fascinated me and so i wanted to give it its own backstory. this moment however has two stories happening. a story of sacrifice for Willis, and the story of grief for Catherine.

the book willis used to love and jason remembers him reading often is the last remaining object the boy has to his father (because most of his belongings were left with his neighbour, and jason doesn't get those back until Batman (1940) #426).

unlike a picture or a letter, this book is a vessel between them, nothing about it actually is Willis' other than the memory attached to it. a nod to the fact that even in death, he had nothing other than the memory he left with his family.

catherine however has a picture, something that is entirely hers, but even that is all it is; her face. jason is young when his mother dies, and as he grows up, he'll soon forget the memories he made with her, but he'll never forget her face because of this last photo he has. her existence, prior to the disease and suffering and death, is forever immortalised for jason. she exists only before her death.

neither willis nor catherine are ghosts that follow jason. he mourns them and misses them deeply (and this grief is the entire catalyst for why he runs away in A Death in The Family) — but they don't come to him when he's doused with fear toxin or battling exhaustion. he doesn't see them when he closes his eyes. because they are not concepts he mourns.

they are a book, a photo, people he has lost forever. jason being a young carer, would have had to watch his mother slowly die to her disease, so he knows death in its raw forms. i have spoken before about how jason views love and loss, as being very literal and blunt understandings, and it's the same here.

so, we have a book and a photograph.

the book being destroyed by the rain is another nod to the modern characterisation of Willis Todd (in both canon and fanon). of the explicitly abusive and negligent father. how his character being "ruined" is usually to paint catherine as the weak and pitiful victim of circumstance and nothing more. neither of them have any true personality other than their surface level one's, which are often classist and ignorant.

on the other hand, willis' book being ruined but protecting the photograph of catherine underneath is to represent his story in jason's life. he was an absent idea because he was working to provide for them, jason didn't really know him outside of this story, and willis dies as a mere idea for his family.

it's not enough, however. willis dies, but it's still raining. catherine's photo may have been saved by some of the rain, but jason is still homeless and he will still have to endure it alone.

the second section of this fic is the saddest one to me, because while jason is the only todd present in this scene, there are three stories being told.

[soft-girl-musings]

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 2 (I've Got You Under My Skin)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N

wc: 2,326

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: another night, another guest.

----------

The Paper Moon is open to all walks of life– every culture, creed, and color is welcome through the doors of your lounge. This is usually a happy truth, but these days you’ve been harboring a clockwork headache when that cab driver stops by.

He gives you the base courtesy of sticking to a schedule: around 7pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Jake will waltz in on the heels of James Wesley and whatever company he has in tow. Every Tuesday and Thursday, Jake sits at the same back table while Mr. Wesley conducts his business. And every Tuesday and Thursday, you play nice as you check in on your patrons. Including the cabbie.

“Another stellar set, Ms. Songbird,” he lilts as you give a courtesy nod, brushing past his table in the hopes of keeping things brief.

“Thank you, Mr. Lockley.” Your voice is tense as you breeze by. Jake Lockley, you’d learned from the wait staff: the legal name for the thorn in your side.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind his presence as much if he didn’t insist on making it known every evening. You had learned to expect him in the crowd whenever you’d hear a high-pitched whistle ringing above the applause each night. The sound grates at your resolve and forces you to plaster on your stage-ready smile a bit longer every time you make your rounds.

“Hey Songbird,” he calls out after you. “Have a drink with me?”

“A drink at my own bar? How inspired.” You press your lips into a firm line, the rest of your face broadcasting your disinterest to no avail. Every week he asks; every week you say no.

“Suit yourself,” he sighs, always backing down but never taking his eyes off you. It’s one thing to be watched onstage; it’s another to feel his gaze on the ground level. You feel a bit of relief every time you see him walk out with his client, tipping his hat to you at the end of each evening. His smile remains undeterred, no matter how cold a shoulder you offer.

It’d be damn near charming if you trusted it.

----------

Today’s not the day to let your guard down, the unmarked letter in your hand reminds you as you pace around the backstage corridor. It’s the third of its kind you’ve received this month. You worry your lip between your teeth as you pour over its contents, even though you know them by heart.

“To whom it may concern….” “...property acquisition…” “...would be in your best interest…” “...other businesses under our care …”

“‘Our care,’ that’s rich,” you mutter. “Remind me to stop opening the mail during business hours…”

“Uh, okay?” Mauricio agrees hesitantly as he rounds the corner. “Was wondering where our ‘fifteen-minutes-to-curtain’ call was, but I see you've been busy.”

“Oh good golly, is that really the time?” You fumble to put the letter back in its envelope. “Haven't even finished my makeup…” you trail off as you head to your dressing room, your drummer right behind you.

When you open the door, you see a small bundle of flowers sitting on your side table. Oh for crying out loud.

“How many times do I have to–” you're muttering to yourself again as you take the flowers in hand, moving swiftly across the room.

"What are you doing?" Mauricio sputters.

"If that man thinks he can weasel into my good graces with a few pretty flowers-" you huff as you drop the bouquet in a wastebasket. "–he's going to be sorely disappointed."

"Those were– those were mine." Mauricio admits softly.

You freeze, turning to him. "Really?"

He scoops up the bouquet. "I wanted to surprise you. Guess I should've left a note," he chuckles.

"Oh, Maurie, thank you." You rush over to bring him into a hug. Sometimes he's too sweet for his own good.

".... This is from Mr. Lockley." Mauricio breaks away to hold out a single white rose he'd been hiding behind his back.

You sigh. "He's a persistent son of a gun, isn't he?"

He nods, dimpled smile growing by the second. “I think he's swell, miss. The boys think so, too.”

You turn the rose over in your hand. “I want you to be careful around him, Maurie. We don't know what he's about.”

“I think he's made it pretty clear,” he laughs.

“Hm. Perhaps.” You raise an eyebrow. "And I suppose you both brought flowers because...?"

Mauricio brims with excitement, taking the rose back and bundling it with the bouquet he'd gifted. "Mr. Lockley sounded real set on gettin’ you something sweet," he starts. He puts the flowers in an empty vase on your vanity.

"I didn't mean to steal his thunder, but I like it when you smile." He wipes his hands on the front of his pants and his expression drops a bit. "You haven't been smilin’ as much these days, Ms. Songbird."

You busy yourself with the fallen petals at your feet. “I smile all the time, what do you mean?”

“I guess I'm saying… there's you onstage, then there's, I dunno, you -you. They smile differently, s'all.”

He's right, as much as you hate to admit it. You look over at the flowers. “Well, thanks for giving me a reason to smile for real, Maurie.” You press a kiss to his forehead. “My mind's a bit out of sorts tonight. So thank you.”

The youth's dark brown eyes fill with concern. “Anything we can help you with?”

You shake your head, moving back to your vanity. “Nothing to worry yourself over, darling. Just make sure the boys are set. We have a show to put on.” 

He nods and leaves your dressing room. As you apply your lipstick, your hand trembles.

----------

Wednesdays have become your favorite part of the week: the day you catch your breath between visits.

In the time before the first half of your set, you make your usual rounds to each table.  Eventually you work your way to the front of the seating area, where you see a familiar silhouette beside the stage. A pair of dark glasses are perched on his nose, which crinkles as he smiles at the sound of your footsteps.

“Mr. Murdock,” you greet him warmly, taking his extended hand. “Always a pleasure.”

“Hey, kid.” He squeezes your hand in response, still beaming up at you. Even in the dimmed lounge, Matt Murdock’s smile can light up a room. 

“Come off it,” you huff in mock annoyance. “Thanks for stopping by on such short notice.”

“It sounded urgent, of course I’d be here. Do you have all the paperwork together?”

You eye the empty seat next to him. “I have a whole file waiting for you backstage… I’m sorry, is Franklin not joining you this evening?”

“Not tonight, but I do have another guest coming. Is that drink still on the house for a new plus-one?”

“Any friend of Nelson & Murdock is a friend of mine.” You brush a few stray hairs from his forehead. “Is this a guest for business or pleasure?”

He laughs, waving your hand away. “I suppose that depends.”

“Well, as long as they’re a fan of good music, they’re welcome here anytime,” you hum as you straighten his collar. “I swear, Matty. It wouldn’t kill you to dress to impress.”

“You dote too much. I’ll catch up with you later.” You leave him to his drink, making a mental note to demand his dress shirts for a routine tailoring.

The dinner rush brings the usual crowd, and you eye your friend’s table every so often. The seat beside him is still empty. You wonder if Matt was just pulling your leg and wanted to keep both complimentary drinks for himself.

But you don’t have time to ponder that. Instead, you scribble a few notes down and pass them out to your bandmates.

“Ah gee, boss, changing the setlist again?” Your pianist whines, scanning your notes. He didn’t ask tonight, but last-minute song requests are a longstanding favor to Matt when he has a lady to impress (which is often). For the sake of his mysterious guest, you swapped in some softer, more romantic pieces.

“Jackie, don’t tell me you’re not up to the task?” You eye him sternly. “Half the gig is improv anyway, and these are all songs we’ve done before.”

Jackie’s budding protest is silenced by the bassist via an elbow to the ribs. Arguing with you is never worth it: a lesson everyone learns sooner or later. Some take longer than others. 

Rubbing his side, Jackie concedes. “Whatever you say, boss.”

You wink. “That’s a tune I like to hear.” Smiling sweetly, you lead the band's procession to the stage.

“Good evening,” you croon into the microphone, “and welcome to The Paper Moon. I’m Ms. Songbird, this fine-feathered crew beside me are The Jays– let’s have some fun tonight.” You flash a rehearsed smile so dazzling it can be seen from the farthest table in the lounge, and you scan the room with anticipation. The moments before a performance are so precious; even with a setlist, anything can happen the moment that first note is played. Every night, you revel in the possibility. 

A familiar two-toned whistle draws your gaze to Matt’s table right below the stage, where the seat beside him is no longer empty.

Hat resting on the table, chin propped in his hands, you find yourself staring down at the face of none other than that infuriating cab driver bearing a grin so wide you hope it splits his cheeks.

Fighting to keep your smile from turning into a grimace, your eyes snap back to the middle of the room. “This first song goes out to one of our favorite patrons… and his company,” you add, your voice betraying your restraint with a crack. You don’t look down, but you just know that damned cabbie is smiling even harder.

Despite the rocky start, you and your band pull together another unforgettable night of music. You perform with your eyes closed more than usual; you refuse to give Jake Lockley the satisfaction of serenading him with your best love songs.

Once the music portion of the night is through, all the frustration you’d pushed down swiftly rises to the surface as you watch them pal around right under your nose. You rush to the floor level to get this over with.

“What are you doing here?” you blurt out, glancing between Jake and Matt. Your friend’s eyebrows raise at the outburst.

“Last I checked, this is a free country. I’m allowed into most businesses.”

“No, I mean– it’s not Thursday. You come on Thursdays.”

“Why Ms. Songbird, I didn’t think you cared enough to keep tabs on me.” He leans his head on his hand and stares up at you. “Sorry I didn’t call ahead.”

You want so badly to snap back at him, but instead you look at Matt. “ This is who I changed our set list for?”

“In my defense, I never asked you to,” he grins.

“You didn’t tell me you were so familiar with our lovely hostess here, Murdock. Seems you have more pull with the house than you let on,” Jake muses in surprise.

“A privilege he’s bound to lose if he's not careful,” you say through gritted teeth. Like it or not, Jake is a guest. And you still have an image to uphold. “How’d you have the pleasure of running into this one, Matthew?”

He barely has time to respond before Jake's leaning in farther, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Oh, chin up, doll– can’t say I’m too surprised he’s a friend of yours. Always has a knack for finding the pretty ones, this guy.” He nudges Matt’s side, who’s far too quiet for your liking.

“I’m not sure what you’re implying,” you huff.

“‘Course, I keep him around for that brain of his, not so much the mug.”

“He's my lawyer,” you say in unison. What makes your brow furrows leads Jake to bark out a laugh, shaking Matt in his grip as he tugs him closer.

“What are the odds of that, eh Murdock?” He beams up at you. Your frown deepens. “He's helped me with the occasional run-in with the law.”

“Oh, so you're not just a smart-mouth but a criminal, to boot?” 

“Nothing but a few civil suits, doll. Got off clean every time.” He winks as you cross your arms, glaring at Matt.

“You have interesting taste in company, Mr. Murdock.” You turn on your heel and head backstage.

“No kidding,” Jake continues to laugh as you walk away. Once you're out of sight, his smile falters. “So when you said you had a friend in show business–”

“Yeah.”

“And when I told you about the dame I've been eyeing at this new lounge–”

“–I knew exactly who you were talking about.”

“So you've been letting me parade around like a putz this whole time? ” A smack upside the head earns Jake a kick to the shin beneath the table.

“That, my friend, was all you. I mean bravo, you were in rare form tonight.” That signature smile returns as Jake pushes a hand through his hair. “I should probably go smooth some feathers. Catch up with you in an hour?”

Jake downs the rest of his drink and stands when Matt does. “You know I love our little talks.” Casting a final glance towards the stage door, he adjusts his jacket and moves from the table.

Matt catches his elbow. “She’ll come around.” He almost sounds convinced of it himself.

“Yeah, well, we’ve got other fish to fry tonight. Promise I’ll save you the big ones.”

Shaking his head, Matt makes his way backstage. “I’m starting to think some of that vitriol isn’t unearned.”

They part ways– Matt heading backstage, Jake to the moonlit streets. 

Bigger fish to fry, indeed: all swimming in the Kingpin’s tank. 

----------

A/N: thank you to everyone who has expressed enthusiasm over this little passion project!! it's been so fun putting it together, and i'm looking forward to sharing more with you. expect to see more of our favorite lawyer in the future (we have fun here)

as always, thank you for reading <3

tag list: @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[violetasteracademic]

Hey bestie, was just wondering when chapter two comes out 🙂‍↕️ been refreshing ur page once an hour for dayyyyyys. 💓

Hi my friend!! So funny you should ask, it will be ready to go up by early evening tonight! I will let you know as soon as it is posted! (I'm in US central time zone. So about 6-7 hours from now)

I'm so honored and delighted to have you reading the new fic 🥹 I don't like to share toooo much of my personal life on here because this fandom is sadly not always kind to artists and writers when it comes to the hostility of the ship wars, but I do want to give a heads up that A Court of Twisted Fate will not be coming out *quite* as fast as Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. I blacked out and wrote almost 100k words of Golden Doe in a total disassociative bender in under a month and a half while I was in between homes, closing the final chapter of my old life after a long fought for divorce, and set aside my 10 year long business and career. I was in a weird little vortex and could easily get a chapter out every few days. I want to be honest with myself and all of you that I will not be able to match that pace right now without massively sacrificing on quality and thorough edits!

If I haven't said it enough, you guys truly have no idea what the response to Golden Doe meant to me. Writing that fic helped me survive a very difficult time. I had never written a fic before and didn't even have an ao3 account, I had to wait a few weeks to be allowed in. I had no idea anyone would read it, and sharing that story wound up being one of the most special and joyful times of my life, which seems impossible when I look back on what I was going through! I just... Thank you. I don't know what else to say. Thank you a million times, every day, forever.

I am starting life completely over in a new city and a 1940's bungalow that has had a few catastrophes since moving in 🫣 I'm hard at work job hunting in this nightmare economy and fixing up the urgent items in the house! So it's a different kind of busy filled with lots of fear and anxiety and mental exhaustion. Thus, I'm also trying to give myself lots of time to heal and recover. I'm hoping for a chapter once a week this round, but I might need some grace for up to two weeks!

This might be a good opportunity to answer some other questions I've gotten. Some have noticed the new rating is M instead of E. There WILL still be smut, but this is more of a dark and spooky old school style slow burn and very story forward. And while I hesitate to say the spice will be more vanilla, it is not as kink forward as Golden Doe! It will still be spicier and more detailed than what SJM would typically write (y'all she's tame in my book) but a different style. That being said, the piece is not finished. Sooooo.... 🦇 we'll see if kinky Azriel body snatches me again and demands that the spice be freakier and more frequent. In which case I'll update the rating.

Golden Doe started as an M rating and 15 planned chapters, and we all saw how that worked out!

I'm pushing myself to create a unique world and characters that are not just a carbon copy of Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. Of course, it is still canon Elain and Azriel! But I'm focusing on different sides of them. I hope you all enjoy it just as much, but if it winds up not being your vibe, do know I have a few ideas bouncing around for Golden Doe continuations, additional Elriel fics, and my inbox is always open for ideas and prompts/requests!!

[shes-an-artist]

Chapter Eight – HYDRA base, serum room – unknown time

Chapter warnings: HYDRA Angst, violence, needles. I beg your forgiveness but it can’t be a marvel fic without some angst. Don’t worry it actually effects things.

Word count: 1,534 words

Addie tried to keep herself from going into full-panic-mode as she heard the large steel door shut behind her, inside the sick yellowish room were two men but they looked up from their current subject who was panting through the mouthguard that was bit down between his teeth.

“Pierce wants her to be used. Says we should give her a reason to exist.” One of the guards that took her to the room sneered.

The doctors wordlessly and unemotionally paused their work as Rumlow and the other strapped Addie onto the metal table, much to her objections and attacks. But with the chain still around her neck she was held down with little difficulty.

“What are you going to do!?” She shrieked, feeling herself freaking out.

“Quiet, now. This won’t take long.” The guard mocked, his long calloused fingers dragging along her bare neck.

“Is it Erkstine’s serum!?”

The doctor looked to her as he prepared the syringes. “How would you know about that?”

“I know the guy who took it.” She wasn’t sure if this would harm or mess up the timeline, but she had to answer the question.

“Wonderful.” Pierce said from the doorway where he watched. “We’ll most assuredly be making use of you with Captain Rogers.”

“Oh, snap, what have I done?” She tried to look at the HYDRA director but her restraints held her down. “Are they going to make me another Winter Soldier?!?”

The pain was excruciating, like red hot molten metal was being pumped into her veins. She couldn’t scream, the mouth guard prevented her from. Her throat was on fire as she made an animalistic noise.

Make it stop-

Please just make it stop.

She just wished the black would take her so she wouldn’t feel the pain, but whatever they had shoved into her wouldn’t allow her to pass out.

The monsters. They wanted every bit of their subjects to suffer. To show who was master.

When she finally felt something decline, she could hear her heart pounding, but—there was another heartbeat.

Wait- was..was she hearing the heartbeat of the man next to her? Her’s and the other didn’t match, she couldn’t be hearing double-

Could she?

When the first doctor approached her and the guard retreated, her suspicion was confirmed. She could hear other heartbeats.

She could hear shouts and screams from another part of the base. She could taste and smell the blood and sweat in the air that she didn’t catch before.

She could hear the man on the other table swearing as he watched her.

She felt the collar tighten around her throat, not as if someone was pulling on it, but as if it had shrunk.

“Hel-“ She tried to raise her hands to pull on it, but the strong leather straps held her tight.

“Get that thing off her, she can’t breathe.” Pierce ordered, sending the guards unclasping the collar.

When Addie felt the cold metal released from her neck, she felt a tear run down her cheek. Oh that felt so much better. She took a breath, practically gasping for air.

What had they done to her? How would she get back to the 1940’s? How would she explain…?

“Untie her.” Pierce ordered again, but to her it sounded as if he was shouting. She knew he was speaking in a normal tone, but that blasted serum made everything enhanced.

The guard’s fingers felt hot as she felt them graze roughly against her skin while they undid the leather straps.

When they finished and stepped back—yes, even Rumlow was cautious—she sat up.

She wanted to pounce on Pierce and choke the life out of him, she wanted to take down HYDRA in one blow. But that would have to wait. Wait until she could recruit Steve or Bucky.

Bucky. Bucky should have been here, the Winter Soldier should have been in this base somewhere…

But- where?

“Now, my pet-“ Pierce stepped closer. “How do you feel?”

Addie felt her hands were larger, stronger. Her legs were honed and her gut was tight.

“Like you’ve made me into what you called me. A pet. You’ve made another Winter Soldier.”

She heard the chain shift in Rumlow’s hand, her gaze snapped to see him about to smack her, but her hand caught his instinctively as she gripped as tight as she could. Rumlow was strong, but he should have known better than to match a fresh super-human.

“Lay a hand on her and you are sent to reconditioning, handler!” Pierce ordered, snatching the chain out of his hands. “Am I understood?’

“I’m getting special treatment??” Addie couldn’t help but stare. This was unexpected.

“Yes, sir.” Rumlow growled and lowered his arm, but when Pierce turned away, Addie could hear his joint popping as he rolled it.

“As for you,” He turned to her. “There is no Winter Soldier, and there never has been. And if you mention that ever again, I will make sure you are given no protection.”

Addie glared at the floor, her mind replaying the scene where Bucky was ‘corrected’ for remembering Steve. Of all the things she did not want to share with him was that Chair.

“I understand.” She rumbled.

“That’s a good girl. Stand up, let me look at you.”

She thought it best to obey. As she slid off the table, she saw that she gained some height as well. At least four inches.

“Well, if I ever get back to Brooklyn, Steve is going to have a fit.”

Pierce grasped her chin and made her look up. He tilted her head to the right and to the left, inspecting her like a fruit.

“Put her back in her cell, and throw in a cot, too. This is one is going to be promising.”

Unknown location, unknown time

Addie thought she was dreaming when she heard Bucky shouting from a long way off, a loud knocking startling her from her sleep.

“Adds!” He shouted again. “Addison, wake up!”

“Holy smokes, I’m back!” She whisper-shouted as she bolted from bed and tried to run to the door, but she caught her shoulder against the wall while trying to round the corner.

“Oh, no!” She wailed. “I wasn’t dreaming!”

“Addie, whats wrong?!” Bucky called from the door again. “Are you okay??”

“I don’t know!” She yelped, hearing her own panic. “H-hang on, Buck!” She stood up, nearly banging her head but she slowly made her way to the door and opened it, stepping back and sitting on the floor to calm down.

“Ads- hey, hey, whoa, what the hell-“ Bucky yelped in surprise, crouching beside her. “Addison, what the-…what happened??”

Addie stared into space, the words wouldn’t come and beside he couldn’t do anything to ‘fix’ her.

“Uh, I-…” She tried. “I think someone is screwing with me and dropping me in different timelines for an agenda.”

Bucky’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Yeah, I know, I know, I sound crazy.” She sighed, resting her chin in her hands.

“No, no, this is actually proof.”

“You believe me??”

“I believed you before, kid. Something like this just doesn’t happen over night.”

“But it did. I really went to sleep and woke up somewhere else in the future and then I fell asleep there and woke up back here!”

Bucky shook his head, rubbing his face. “Okay, do you know what year it is?”

“I really hope it’s 1940.” She looked at him.

“Well, it’s December, but yes, it’s 1940.”

“Oh, thank God.” She sighed and laid on the floor. “I just- I don’t know what to do, Bucky. I really don’t.”

“Hey, it’s okay, doll. I’m not mad, really.”

“Its not-“ She tried before faltering. “I’m not worried about that—okay, yes, I’m super scared and I feel like a giant freak who can’t even walk through the room without hitting something.”

“I think you’ll adapt.” Bucky smiled.

“What do you mean?” She looked up at him, his eyes were brighter now with the serum.

“I mean that if I could sprout from 5 foot nothing all the way to six feet in one year, I think you’re smart enough to figure out how to gain a few inches overnight.”

Addie thought about his words. He made sense, and it was a little silly to be acting dramatic over something other people would consider a miracle. She could probably give Bucky a run for his money in a wrestling match.

“Thanks, Buck.” She smiled and propped herself on her elbow. “Holy cow, you said it’s December? I’m about to break a sweat.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Feel my hand, it’s warm!” She touched his fingers and his expression changed to surprise.

“Holy cats-!”

“Ugh, that’s means summer is going to suck!!” She groaned. “Dang!”

“Uh, I know this might be a weird question, but do you want to tell Steve or shall I break it easy to him.”

“You say that like I’m breaking up with him.” She shot him a strange look before sitting straight. “But no, I’ll explain. Thank you for the offer.”

“How’s ‘bout some breakfast then?”

“I’m starved.”

thank you for reading 🥰✌️

Dividers by @strangergraphics

prompt by @the-superoriginal

written by yours truly, all relation to actual people are purely coincidental

tag list: @oh-to-be-a-murderer - @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent - @itzzkaylaaa - @crazyinlovewithmarvel - @natt-romanoff - @ohyeah-itssamwilson - @proud-owner-0f-americas-ass - @thebestmerc-1 - @daniel-barnes-the-ghost -

if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters, please send me an ask and I will make sure to tag you!

[pynkhues]

hey i wanted to ask, do you have opinions or hcs on how knowledgeable is louis aabout BDSM? Do you think he read on subject or he just goes with a heart? How proper do you think his BDSM dynamic would potentially be? I mean, would it involve discussions, safe words, aftercare etc. Or would it be more on the spur of the moment?

It's just my brain was plagued by thoughts what would louis do if lestat accidentally sub dropped during scene. NGL I can't imagine louis handling it very gracefully (sorry, louis)

Also, ideas of louis experiencing domdrop are very delicious too. I doubt he actually feels guilt or shame for being dom, but domdrop would make him irrational. And lestat would be very alarmed and confused what's happening with louis.

Sorry for long ask😶 love your work!

Don't apologise, anon! It's actually been something I've been thinking about too, both as I've been writing this fic, but also just in general because I'm kind of fascinated about how the eras / times they live through both interact with and inform these parts of the their characters.

Because here's the thing: BDSM wasn't actually a term in the 1940s when Louis and Armand decided to explore it. That's not to say that people didn't engage in BDSM (there are plenty of examples of fetish artwork dating back thousands of years, and as I mentioned in this post, Marquis de Sade was writing in the 1700s prettty obscene and deplorable sado-masochistic work), but there really wasn't a shared language then in the way that we have now.

In fact, Louis and Armand entering that relationship in the 1940s in the aftermath of WWII almost feels pretty specific, given it was that post-WWII era that gave birth to the leather movement which in turn provided the soil for BDSM to grow into what we know it as today. The result is that that specific time period marked the shift of BDSM from a counterculture to a part of culture; however, it took a little longer to come back to Paris, which had a booming fetish industry in the pre-war period, but was traumatised from Nazi occupation and as a result wouldn't bounce back really until the sexual revolution in the 1960s.

Louis' hardly sexually naive given his past career as a pimp, but I do think it's worth noting that he became a Dom in a period where there wasn't the same degree of understanding there is now about the psychology of it all, nor a universal sense of what might be 'best practice', and he did it with someone he felt both a disconnect to and a resentment of (which 2.05 makes very clear), which - - y'know! Isn't the healthiest way to engage in that sort of dynamic at the best of times.

But in answering your questions more specifically - - do I think he read up on the topic? Yeah, a bit, but I think it'd be more likely he read older texts that probably....wouldn't be giving a healthy perspective on it by modern standards. Given his reading list in New Orleans featured books like Origin of the Species, Marriage in a Free Society and Madame Bovary - all books published in the 1800s despite it being between 1910 and 1940 - I do think he tends to lean towards older books that form part of cultural canons (it's the snob in him, haha). In which case I think he probably would've read some of Marquis de Sade's work (which, yikes) and probably Venus in Furs and The Romance of Lust.

Given most of the more classic modern BDSM books by today's standards were published really in the 60s and 70s, I kinda feel like Louis and Armand were probably too embedded into their dynamic to change it or be overly interested in reading about it? Which is all a round about way of saying that I don't think Louis would have great etiquette as a dom at all, no, haha, and I think he'd probably more just be getting a read of the situation and following his own instincts and perhaps Armand's too. I can see them buying things - the whips, floggers and cast iron dog bowl (the latter of which always gives me pause!) we can see in their bedroom, for instance - and leaving them out for each other to see as a means of discussion over, y'know, actual discussion.

I do wonder too in terms of the role Louis and Armand being able to read each other's minds plays too. If they can get a sense of what might get the other off that way which feels like its own type of discussion or consent (even if its not actually an articulated discussion or consent). It's interesting to contemplate what that might mean in terms of dom or sub drops like you said, and especially as a comparison point to it happening with Lestat and Louis who don't have the same capacity to know what's going on in the other's head.

I do think if Lestat and Louis were to explore that together, it would be in scenes as opposed to a lifestyle like it was with Armand and Louis though, which is a different dynamic in and of itself, and yes! Okay, your ask was long, but my reply has been way longer, haha, so I'll leave it there for now. It's a really interesting space to think about though.

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages: Part Five

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x reader

A/N: i’m too lazy to keep linking all of the parts so I’ll be making a master post for this fic!!

Masterlist

—

2024

You sat in the same spot you’d been in since you got home from what you thought was your first real date with Bucky since the 1940s—but you were so wrong.

You weren’t mad at him. You could never be mad at him. But, God, was your heart shattered. After everything you’d been through, you had no idea why you even bothered to get your hopes up anymore. How the hell did you not learn by now?

You were a mess, and even that was an understatement. You were a shell of a shell of the person you once were. Steve would have tried to talk some sense into you, reason with you about how the world needed you, and you’d have reluctantly nodded, swallowing any and all feelings into the pits of your mind, becoming what he wanted—a soldier ready for war.

Or Tony, he’d come by and try to coax you out with humour. If he even caught a sliver of what he thought was a smile or a groan that could be mistaken for a laugh, he’d consider it a win. Even though he tried so hard to be cool and collected—because he had to be—he’d let a bit of that giant heart show, and how could you say no to pushing through for someone who wanted the best for everyone and only saw the best in you?

And Nat, she’d sit and wallow with you until you were done. She’d be there for you without doing too much. She’d make sure you got off your ass and took care of yourself, putting you before the mission, before the Avengers, before herself. Seeing her show you that love, even if it was subtle and not in spoken words but actions, you’d be sure as hell to show her you accepted that love by getting off your ass.

Your mind played out each scene. You felt the way Natasha would lean down in front of you, the way Tony would give your shoulder a squeeze, pulling you in for a side hug, the way Steve’s voice would bounce off the walls. It was like you could see them, feel them, hear them—but they, of course, weren’t there.

None of them were here anymore. They were all gone. They’d all left. They were all dead and not coming back.

Your eyes were unfocused on the TV playing in the background—well, it was playing in the background until you saw the words NEW CAPTAIN AMERICA flash across the screen. It most certainly wasn’t Sam.

You tried to focus your ears on the broadcast, but all you could hear was ringing. You pulled yourself back in just in time to hear the woman on TV talking about you and your family.

“Now that Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, and Natasha Romanoff are gone, who do we have left to save us if something happens again?”

The male news anchor weighed in. “We have Spider-Man.”

“He’s gotta be a kid! And the Falcon—Sam Wilson—gave up the shield that Steve Rogers gave to him. How can he be reliable after that?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

The woman scoffed. “How can we rely on someone who falls off the grid after The Winter Soldier breaks up with her? The video of her storming out of that restaurant went viral for a reason, and it wasn’t because of her being an Avenger but from the storm that followed. She should be locked up. Someone with her capabilities—she’s too unpredictable.”

“Now, Sally, don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh on the girl? She lost her family while trying to help bring the rest of the world theirs back.”

“All I’m saying is, when you’re a human with super abilities, you have a certain responsibility to uphold, and she’s just not doing that for me. I think the Avengers are over. I don’t feel safe with people like them hiding right under our noses.”

The screen blurred as your eyes filled with tears, your chest tightening with the weight of their words. Your hand clenched into a fist at your side, nails biting into your palm. A part of you wanted to scream at the TV, to tell them they had no idea what they were talking about, but another part of you… couldn’t disagree. Maybe they were right. Maybe you were a liability now. Maybe, without your family, you were nothing.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to clear your vision, trying to focus. But all you could think about was Bucky—how you’d tried to have something real, something to hold on to in this world that felt like it was crumbling around you. And how, once again, you’d been left behind.

A sharp pain shot through your chest, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together. But it was like trying to hold sand—it kept slipping through your fingers, no matter how tight you held on.

You glanced back at the TV, the words of those anchors still echoing in your mind, and it hit you just how alone you really were. They were gone, and you were left to pick up the pieces. But what if there were no pieces left to pick up? What if all that was left of you was dust?

Your phone buzzed beside you, breaking you out of your thoughts. You looked at the screen and saw Sam’s name flashing across it. For a moment, you considered ignoring it—considered curling up on this couch and letting the world forget about you.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He was the last piece of your old life still standing, still fighting. You couldn’t let him down.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up the phone and pressed it to your ear. “Hey, Sam.”

His voice was steady, comforting in a way you hadn’t realised you needed. “Hey, you okay?”

You hesitated, your eyes drifting back to the TV. “Yeah,” you lied. “I’m fine.”

There was a pause on the other end, and you could almost hear the frown in his voice when he spoke again. “You don’t have to pretend with me, y/n. You know that, right?”

You swallowed hard, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Sam was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, but firm. “You’re stronger than you think, y/n. And you’re not alone, even though you want to be. I'm always here, don't listen to them”

—

The Peters

“You have someone?”

“No. I got no time for, uh, Peter Parker stuff, you know? What about you?”

Peter 2 hesitated before answering, “Uh, that’s a little complicated.”

Peter 3 nodded, understanding more than he wished he did. “No, I get it. I guess it’s just not in the cards for guys like us.”

“Well, I wouldn’t give up,” Peter 2 said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It took a while, but we made it work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, me and MJ—my MJ. It, uh, gets confusing here,” Peter 2 admitted, glancing at Peter 3, whose face had clouded with a look of deep-seated heartbreak. Noticing this, Peter 2 gently pressed, “You don’t think you have one?”

Peter 3 shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nah, those days are long behind me.”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted out the window, landing on you. The way the wind tousled your hair, catching the moonlight just right, made you look almost ethereal—like the most angelic being he had ever seen. His heart raced as he took in the sight of you, sensing the anxiety etched into your expression. The only thing he wanted in that moment was to make sure you were okay.

Peter 2 followed his line of sight and, upon seeing you, couldn’t help but grin. He looked back at Peter 3 and said, “All our universes might have a couple of things in common, but that doesn’t mean everything has to be the same.”

Peter 3 furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you two have web shooters, and I don’t.”

Peter 3 chuckled, tossing his head back. “Now you’re just bragging.”

Peter 2 laughed along, but quickly steered the conversation back. “No, no, just wait, I’m getting there. Maybe our two share an MJ”—he gestured to himself and the youngest Peter, who was still downstairs on the phone, finishing the last cure—“but maybe there’s another universe out there where another Spider-Man is like me.”

Peter 3 tilted his head, curious now. “Or?”

“Or,” Peter 2 continued, “maybe there’s a universe where Peter has a Y/N instead of an MJ.”

Peter 3 looked down, fiddling with his mask as doubt crept into his voice. “I don’t think my universe has either.”

Peter 2 offered him a knowing smile. “Maybe that’s because your Y/N is here.”

“N-no,” Peter 3 stammered, shaking his head a bit too quickly. “That’s not—I mean, I just met her, and she’s got, y’know, stuff, a lot of stuff going on. It’s not…”

Peter 2 smiled gently. “I saw the way you looked at her.”

“Well, I mean, she’s beautiful,” Peter 3 said, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Peter 2 chuckled softly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I just thought I saw something more there, that’s all.” He shrugged casually, but the softness in his smile suggested he knew more than he let on. “But hey, what do I know?” He looked down, his smile fading slightly as if lost in his own thoughts.

Before Peter 3 could fully process that, the youngest Peter bounded up the stairs. “Hey! Are you two ready? The final cure’s finished, and Ned’s gonna portal us over there any second now. Then I’ll take a video and send—” He stopped mid-sentence, realising you weren’t in the room. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s still on the phone,” Peter 2 said, nodding toward the window.

Peter 1 immediately walked over to the window, concerned knitting his brow as he watched you. “She looks anxious,” he murmured, setting the bag containing the cures on a small side table. “I should go check on her.”

Peter 2 gave him a pointed look, one that spoke volumes. It was a look of recognition, the kind that said, You’ve got a chance—don’t miss it. He raised an eyebrow, nudging his head slightly toward the door.

Realisation hit Peter 3 like a bolt of lightning. He jumped up off the stool, suddenly feeling both frantic and determined. “Is it okay if I go instead?”

Peter 1 stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Peter 2, who nodded in encouragement. Then he turned back to Peter 3, a small smile forming on his face. “Y-yeah, of course. But we have to go any minute now, okay?”

Peter 3 nodded fiercely, his heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be quick.”

But even as he said it, each step toward you felt like it was moving both too slow and too fast all at once. His pulse quickened the closer he got, and for the first time in a long while, hope flickered inside him. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance—if he could only find the right words, the right moment, to make things right.

—

The Call

“Y/n, holy shit, what are you up to? It's been…” Sam paused you could see his demeanour changing when the realisation dawned on him exactly how long it had been “Waaaay too long”

You could hear Bucky and some girl talking in the background before Sam was shushing them. He mumbled “Dont worry about it” and then you could hear a chair being pushed back.

Bucky was moving on, was all you could think about after hearing him laughing with a female voice, and of course Sam was leaving the room so you wouldn't have to hear it.

“Yeah” you let out an airy breath “It has been”

“I stopped by a few times”

“I know”

“I called, i texted, Buck he wouldn’t tell me anything y/n, you were – you are like family to me, I wanted us to stick together it's what Steve wanted and, I-I didn't even see you at the funeral”

“I’m sorry Sam, i just -“ you sniffled “It's been hard since, everything” you paused “Im trying”

“Don't apologise, you never have to apologise to me for anything. We were supposed to stick together as a team, a family. I'll always be here for you, i'm just happy to hear your voice i was worried for awhile”

“I was at the funeral, I was just…”

“Hiding?” Sam finished for you

“Yeah”

“Why?”

“I just needed some time, We lost so many people, Steve left, Bucky left, i just needed to wallow, comprehend everything look for the light at the end of the tunnel”

“Did you find it? The light”

You looked through the window, into the dimly lit house, they must have moved upstairs while your Peter was on the phone. You watched him toss his head back, his hands clapping together at something the oldest Spider Man was saying to him. You were never going to find happiness in this universe again, all it brought you was heartbreak so maybe you had to go to another one to find it.

“I think, i'm not sure but i'm going to find out” Moving your attention to the small pond of water just off to the side of the house “That's why i called, I just want to thank you for being patient with me, always being there for me and i know you’re going to be the best Captain America Sam, I’m so proud of you”

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?” He was putting the pieces together, and he wasn't liking the finished product that connected in his mind, a puzzle he wasn't sure he wanted to see the end of.

Letting out a shaky breath, your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, blood was flowing heavily to your ears, you spun around finding those golden brown eyes, meeting yours and you knew with the way he was looking at you he could tell you were getting anxious.

Your eyes gazed into his, even at the distance you were you couldn’t help but feel that metaphorical string pulling you to him, screaming at you that you were doing the right thing for once “Sam it’ll never be goodbye, our paths will always cross again, it's just a see you later”

“Y/n” he was changing his tone from friendly to his newly discovered Captain America voice “What’s going on?”

“Thank you for everything Sammy” Before he could respond you hung up, smashing your phone in the process, Tony made sure you could never be tracked and where you were planning on going you're sure your phone wouldn’t work anyway.

You sighed, allowing yourself to feel the breeze around you that wasn’t your doing, as if the universe was whispering that you were making the right choice.

“Are you alright?”

You spun around, your hair catching the wind. “You ask me that a lot.”

He smiled softly. “I’m a curious person by nature.”

“And look where that got you—a bite from a radioactive spider?” You scratched your head, pretending to ponder.

He placed his hands on his hips, a playful grin spreading across his face. “God, you’re witty. I gotta say, I love it.” His expression grew more serious as he took a deep breath. “I can’t complain, though. It led me here.” He took a step closer, pointing to the ground. “And I can’t help but feel like every path I’ve taken, every twist and turn, every bump in the road—led me here.”

“To this spot of grass?” you teased, trying to keep your voice steady as your heart raced.

Peter 3 slowly reached out, his palm slightly trembling. He was so close now, and the tension between you was almost unbearable. His heart was pounding so loudly that he couldn’t even focus on the sound of yours, though he desperately wanted to. He needed to know if you felt it too—the connection, the pull that defied logic and reason. His voice softened as he shook his head, finally finding the courage to say what he’d been holding back. “No, to this universe. I just wish I could stay.”

For a moment, it felt as though the air had been knocked out of you. His proximity was overwhelming, sending shivers down your spine. “I know what you mean.”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Deep down, it felt wrong because it wasn’t Bucky, but you were so overwhelmed by the warmth radiating inside you that you leaned into it. “Maybe in another universe… another lifetime.”

“Why not this one?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You searched his eyes, hoping for an answer that could make sense of the emotions swirling inside you.

Peter’s eyes softened, filled with a mix of longing and regret. “Because this one isn’t mine to keep, no matter how much I want it to be, it’s not my home.”

Your chest tightened as the reality of his words settled in. You could feel the connection between you, strong and undeniable, yet fleeting—like trying to hold onto water as it slips through your fingers. “It doesn’t even feel like mine anymore…”

Peter 3 frowned, concern deepening the lines on his face. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. How could you explain the hollow feeling that had taken root in your chest, the way the world had lost its colour, its sense of belonging, ever since you’d lost them—Steve, Tony, Natasha… even Bucky, in his own way?

“Everything that made it home,” you began slowly, trying to find the right words, “It’s all gone. The people, the moments, the life I had… It’s like I’m drifting, trying to find something to hold onto, but every time I do, it slips away.”

Peter 3 nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. “I get that. After losing Gwen… my Aunt May… I thought I’d never find solid ground again. It’s like you’re a stranger in your own life.”

You looked at him, surprised by how perfectly he’d captured what you were feeling. “Exactly,” you whispered.

A silence fell between you, thick with shared grief and unspoken longing. The breeze that had once felt comforting now carried a chill, reminding you of the inevitable goodbye that was coming. You both knew it, but neither of you wanted to acknowledge it.

Peter took a step closer, closing the gap between you. “Maybe we’re both just trying to find our way home,” he said softly. “But maybe… maybe we’re supposed to help each other along the way, even if it’s just for a little while.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you didn’t brush it away. “And then what? What happens when you find your way back to where you belong, and I’m still lost?”

He gently wiped the tear away with his thumb, his touch tender and lingering. “You won’t be lost…You’re stronger than you think and when that day comes, you’ll have all of us—every version of us—cheering you on from our own corners of the universe.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope. It was fragile, but it was there, and it was enough to make you believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d find your way again.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

“I wish I could stay,” he repeated, his voice barely audible, “But I’m glad I got to meet you.” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words, before finally speaking, “We cherish the moment we have, right here, right now, we gotta hold onto the hope that maybe, somewhere out there, in some other reality, we get our chance.”

Before anymore could be said, a glowing circle appeared in the middle of the lawn, casting an ethereal light between you. The two of you instinctively jumped apart as the other two Peters emerged from the safe house, their footsteps echoing on the wooden porch.

“Are you two ready to go?” Peter 1 called out, his eyes lingering on you, searching for any sign of distress.

You glanced at Peter 3, his expression mirroring the conflict in your own heart. But you forced a smile, nodding. “Of course Pete.”

[crookedherringcolorclod]

A Century Without You (TRIPLE A BIRTHDAY SPECIAL!)

A/N: I… I think this is the biggest fic I have ever created… But still, it’s so worth it. To everyone who stayed and listened to my stories, to my mutuals, thank you from the bottom of my heart. So please enjoy my fanfic! ✨✨✨

August 22, 1940

It was rowdier in the manor that day, even when the sun and its overwhelming August heat were now long gone and replaced with the warm breeze now that night has fallen. Groaning in irritation, Ayato kicks his feet up on the couch and scratches at his red locks. "Damn it, why is it still hot?" he complains, sweat still clinging to his back as he tries to soothe his dry throat. His eyes find the blond vampire with her back facing him, swinging a pair of shoes in her hand. "Oi, you! Yeah, you! Make takoyaki for Ore-sama! "Ayato yelled out, he can recall that two of those girls had the same hair color as Shu, yet even after those three were taken in by that Old Fart, he never bothered with their names and just stuck with whatever he called them in his head.

Well, if he can differentiate between the blond ones, that is.

The blond vampire turned her head to face Ayato."...What?" she asked, a mixture of confusion and annoyance lacing around her voice. "Oh! So, you finally came out of your room today, Shut-In? Make me takoyaki!" Ayato hooted, not moving an inch from the couch he lays on. Akemi could only narrow her eyes, clearly exasperated by his behavior. "What on earth would you think that I know how to make takoyaki? I don't even know what that takoyaki is."

Ayato clicked his tongue, annoyed at Akemi's avoidance. "Tch, then get Crazy Eyes to make me takoyaki! She's the one who can cook, right? Oi! Don't ignore me!" The red-headed vampire raises himself from the couch, making his way to follow Akemi. "Go away, Ayato." she hissed, her eyes finally glowing an intense shade of blue. "You don't get to boss me around, Shut In!" Ayato claimed, grabbing Akemi's wrist, "You better make it up to me for wasting my time, so give me your blood." Akemi glared at him in disbelief, "MY GODS, what's with you and why can't you take no for an answer?" Akemi shouted, already feeling her blood boil, literally.

"Haha! So that Four-Eyes was right all this time! Your blood can get hotter! It actually smells good from far away... You might as well be Ore-sama's!" Ayato laughed in wonder, tightening his grip around Akemi's wrist, making her yelp. Before Ayato could bring Akemi closer, a familiar voice rings in the hallways with no one to be seen. "Ore-sama this, Ore-sama that, you get on my nerves." Ayato clicks his tongue in annoyance, "Tch, always ruining my fun. Oi Subaru, I know that it's you! Come out!" Akemi’s eyes lit up at the sound of the youngest’s voice as she takes her chance to escape and run away from Ayato, much to his dismay.

Not getting a chance to grumble at his failed attempt on finding food, Subaru finally shows himself and pushes Ayato against the wall, “What the hell were you going to do to her?” he grunted, his knuckles growing white when he digs his hands into Ayato’s shoulders. “Heh, why do you care so much? That was none of your business!" Ayato snarked, baring his fangs against the younger vampire. The red-headed vampire grunted and pushed his younger brother off him, "Fine, whatever, you just had to ruin the mood. Go run after her for all I care." Ayato huffed in frustration, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he stomped away, leaving Subaru alone in the hallway.

"Tch, not again..." Subaru muttered under his breath after his eyes shifted to the painted wall, he pinned Ayato to, now covered in cracks from the impact caused by the youngest's strength. Yet the fact that Reiji will scold him about how that wall needs a new paint job didn't scare him as Subaru finally looked around and realize the blonde vampire he just rescued was nowhere in sight. "Shit... Shit! Where the fuck did she run off to?" he asked himself, starting to rush down the stairs to that one place where she would most likely go to find some sort of peace.

That place where laid his eyes on her for the first time.

From then on, he found himself running back to her, calling her again and again...

"AKEMI!"

"OI AKEMI!"

"AKEMI, WHERE ARE YOU?"

After minutes of running around the garden, calling out to Akemi, Subaru finally found her making her way into the forest behind the garden, jumping over the bushes and throwing her shoes behind. "The fuck are you going? Are you trying to get yourself hurt again? Hey!" the younger vampire yelled, grabbing the pair of shoes that were left behind and crossing over the rose bushes, his eyes not leaving her silhouette as branches snap under his leather boots. "Why are you following me too? I just want to go outside!" Akemi asked as she hopped onto a recently fallen log, putting her barefoot in front of the other like a balancing act. "What are you trying to do? You know you can't run away from here!" Subaru yelled, finally catching up to Akemi to reach out for her hand only for her to pull away from his grasp, causing her to almost fall off the log until she regained her balance.

Just as Subaru was about to scold her again, Akemi placed both her hands on his shoulder to support herself, the log giving her enough inches to tower him. "Relax, running away from good food and a soft bed is not a good idea to begin with." Akemi frowned, letting go of Subaru’s broad shoulder and pulling her long dress to her knees as she lands back on the grass. "I just want to go out, I remember there was a lake nearby and wanted to confirm. Let a girl explore." After having his question answered, Subaru only let out a huff, putting his hands in his pockets, "Fine, but don't blame me if you get hurt or anything. I won't carry you back." Akemi scratched her nose at him. "Yes, sure, could I have my shoes back? Or are you going to keep holding it?" she asked, noticing her shoes in Subaru's hands, he grunts and throws them back to her waiting for her to lace them up before they continued walking to the lake.

The pair stayed silent for the most part, aside from the younger's complaints and the blonde’s cool replies, the atmosphere around them felt calm and almost peaceful. Perhaps it's because they were far from the other brothers? It did not take long for Subaru to break the silence again, "Why did you leave now of all times? You barely left your room in the beginning." Akemi let out a hum, seemingly lost in thought as she picks up the stones off the ground. "Well... It's still summer here, right? What day is it today? August 22, right?" Subaru's brows furrowed. "What about it?" Akemi gave Subaru a small smile, a moment of silence filled the forest around them. Akemi tries to make the small stones in her fingers skip across the water to no avail.

"It's going to be our birthday in two days," said Akemi, those words tasted so sweet in her mouth.

Our birthday. Not mine. Ours.

Subaru could feel his undead heart drop to his stomach, the gears in his head finally understanding what Akemi meant "Ours? Y... You never told me..." Akemi just shrugged, seeming apathetic about her birth. "Both of my sisters were still being found, I didn't know if they were dead or not... It never felt right to celebrate without them too... so I never told any of you," she whispered, hugging her knees, and placing her chin on top, hiding her face from the youngest and he watched her intently.

The pair did not visit that subject again, even as they walked back to the manor.

-----------------

"Of course, I know about their birthdays, why are you telling me this of all times?" Reiji asked, sorting through the tubes in his lap. Subaru huffs as he gets up from the chair. “Hah? How?” Subaru asked, restraining himself from smacking the tubes away from Reiji’s hands. “The new one told me while I was tutoring her, Amaya,” Reiji recalled, her Japanese was still broken, still resorting to hand gestures to talk to him, a habit he will need to break as soon as possible. Before Subaru could talk again, Reiji intervened, "If you are so worried about the celebration, I have already prepared a list of what to do for the occasion" he explained carefully, pulling his gloves off as he makes his way to the sink, and starts washing his hands vigorously. 'How the fuck did he make preparations? We don't even have a week to pull this off.' Subaru thinks to himself, knowing he only found out about their birthdays just recently. “As much as this needs to be fully elaborated, we should put this conversation aside for now. We will discuss it later after we gather everyone, is that clear?” Reiji asked Subaru, watching the youngest who only crossed his arms. "... Fine," Subaru muttered as he slammed the door behind him.

Reiji pushes his glasses back up, his hands now dried, "Good grief... where to start?" he sighs, finally letting the triplets' birthday dawn on him, and realizing he may not know where to begin. He knew that the manor housed many mortal girls and very few had the chance to celebrate their birthday once, he even recalls the many times his father told him and his brothers to attend balls and parties in the Demon World to entertain vampire nobles and ladies for many occasions. Despite all of this, Reiji still wonders if the girls follow the customs of the Demon World or have long adapted to human customs. "Hmph, it seems this will be more difficult than it seems," Reiji confirms to himself, pulling a new pair of gloves over his hands as he makes his way downstairs. After all, a birthday party cannot be planned by itself.

"So, I have gathered you all today for important news." Reiji starts, already eyeing his good-for-nothing brothers who seemed distracted except for Subaru who seemed the most interested, which surprised him. "Tch, what is it now? Is there a new bride coming or something?" Ayato asks, leaning against the chair, already feeling impatient. "It must be, I won't forgive you if you're lying to me and Teddy." Kanato cried, hugging his stuffed bear closer as Laito let out a laugh. "Aw, come on everyone, it's Reiji we're talking about, it must be suuuper serious, right? ~" Instead of snapping at his brothers, Subaru remained quiet until he couldn't help it. "It's Akemi's birthday next week..." Subaru explained before Reiji could announce the news, causing everyone's eyes to be on him at the sudden revelation, the youngest feels his face grow hot. "I…It's also Asa's and Amaya's... they're triplets like you three..." Subaru added, turning his face away from his brothers.

“Hah? Them? Triplets like us? Impossible!!” Ayato exclaimed, slamming his hands on the coffee table. On the couch, the eldest Sakamaki sighs, combing through his blonde locks, “It’s not impossible, triplets are just rarer than twins. Honesty, you can’t seem to understand something so simple.” Shu muttered, annoyed at the sudden outburst. Feeling a migraine coming, Reiji inches between in brow in hopes of alleviating the pain, “Yes, as you all know thanks to Subaru, Asa, Akemi, and Amaya are triplets, and their birthday is coming next week. Hence why I had to exclude them, for now, to inform you beforehand.” He elaborated.

Laito perks up at the news while a shadow looms over Kanato’s face as he tightens his hold on Teddy, “Ehhh~ Now this is interesting news after all! Three pretty ladies sharing the same birthday~” he exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight. “Oi, don’t think about anything funny, you pervert!” Subaru snapped, his fist colliding against the wall. “Now calm down, Subaru, I know how much you love playing The White Knight when you’re with lil Pretty Akemi, but I thought that we as brothers could make their first birthday here more special by making this a surprise? Fufu~” Laito chucked, not missing a beat, and catching the youngest's attention with his idea. "... I suppose that we can follow Laito's idea for the triplets' first birthday together." Reiji hums in approval as he adjusts his glasses, "So for our itinerary, we will follow human customs for their birthday, which means we will need to prepare decorations, cake, and their gifts. Does anyone have any ideas on where to host the event?" Reiji asks his brothers.

"I will not allow them to go to my doll room!!" Kanato yells as his grip on Teddy tightens. "THAT WOMAN HAS THE NERVE TO BOSS ME AROUND AND DOES WHATEVER SHE PLEASES YET FATHER DID NOT PUNISH HER ONCE." he wailed, fat tears rolling down his round cheeks. Now awake from Kanato's tantrums, the eldest sits up from the couch, "How bothersome... just host it in the garden or something. They would like flowers, won't they?" Shu sighs as he rubs his ears. "No way! The food will get cold and blown away and shit! Let's just do it in the dining area, Ore-sama will show them the wonders of Takoyaki!" Ayato protested. Subaru can feel his jaw tighten as he clenches his teeth, "Shut up! That's just something you want to eat! Stop acting like it's your birthday." he snaps, stomping towards the red-headed vampire.

Before Ayato could snap back, Reiji claps his hands together "Settle down everyone, we must make the most out of the ample time we have before the occasion." Subaru let out a huff in frustration but let himself back down... for now. "Okay then, so here's the plan as of now, I will handle the decorations in the dining room, Kanato, and Ayato, I will give you a list of ingredients of what to buy during the weekend as well as instructions on how to prepare them. I will handle the decorations and tableware in the dining room. As for the rest... I suppose you can gain insight on what kinds of gifts to give them." Reiji suggests, his eyes glaring daggers at the eldest who somehow found sleep again, "And Shu, you better help on your part, these girls are not just any vampires picked off the streets, they are our cousins from our mother's side, taken in by Father himself. So do us a favor and stop being a good-for-nothing starting now." Awaken once more, the looks over at his younger brother, still unphased by his endless disdain towards him.

"It can't be helped, can't it... Pwahhh, what a pain..."

------------------------

August 23, 1940, 7:00 PM

When Reiji calls everyone down for dinner, Amaya darts her eyes around the table, looking over at the brothers’ expressions. ‘Despite everyone behaving the same as usual, the air around them seemed to have changed’ she ponders over the thought as she munches on her fish. Unable to contain her curiosity, she reaches towards her eldest sister, “Alice- I mean… Asa, do you think the brothers are acting weird?” Amaya asks in Romanian as she tugs at her sleeve. “They’re an odd bunch, but I’m not sure I’m following your train of thought,” Asa replies, also in Romanian, looking over at Ayato who was poking his food around, clearly not feeling an appetite over the tuna on his plate. Amaya’s brows furrowed, “Are you sure? They- “

“Miss Amaya, it is impolite to talk while others are still eating.” Reiji cuts Amaya off as he places his cup down on the saucer, causing Amaya to jump up from her seat, “Also, might I remind you we are residing in Japan, do try and speak Japanese outside our lessons. No one else will speak in Romanian to you.” he adds before going back to eating. “Okay…” Amaya mutters as she grabs her fork, staring over at the sausages far from her grasp. The black-haired vampire stretches her neck forward, noticing the sausages were in Shu’s direction. “Shu… Shu…” Amaya called out, her voice loud enough to make the sleeping vampire stir in his sleep.

Eventually, after Amaya's insistent calls, the eldest opened his eyes, "Mmn, what is it?" he asks, "The sausage..." Amaya whispers, pointing at the platter near him.  The blonde's brows furrow in confusion, still not fully awake, "Cârnat... you want the carrots?" Shu mutters groggily, pushing the plate of vegetables towards Amaya who only looked at the plate in shock and confusion. "No no no, sausage..." she asks once more, only for her pleas to fall short, "Here, get what you want." Shu yawned, already closing his eyes once more to drift off to sleep leaving Amaya pouting at her dilemma.

The predicament did not go unnoticed, “It’s the sausage, right?” Akemi asks her younger sister sitting across from her, Amaya nods aggressively at her sister’s question. Akemi furrowed her brow at the vampire sitting next to her, his auburn hair already setting her off as she taps at his shoulder, “Laito… the sausages please…” she grimaced as she watches a smirk stretch across Laito’s face, “Oh~ Mademoiselle, I thought you never ask, here you go~“Laito purrs as he drags the platter to her direction, Akemi forces  herself to smile, “Thank you.” She grumbles as she gets hold of the plate, tempted to tear Laito’s bony fingers off her hand as he attempts to intertwine their fingers together.

Akemi takes a deep breath, trying to alleviate her anger, “Amaya, here, get what you want.” She sighs, letting herself smile for a moment to see her sister’s happy face, still somehow in disbelief that it’s been months since Amaya arrived, that she’s still sitting across her, alive. Asa shoots a worried glance, Akemi can already hear her sister trying to say, ‘Are you okay?’ from her frown as she waves her off, plastering a bigger smile to lift her eldest sister’s worries. “Maybe later? After we’re done eating?” Akemi whispers, Asa gives her another glance before she nods, and goes back to eating, leaving the clinking of utensils to fill the silence.

-----------------

“You will not sit next to Laito under any circumstances. Ever. Again.” Asa declares as she paces around, the clacking of her heeled boots echoes in Akemi’s bedroom. “… It wasn’t as bad as last time. It’s getting a bit better.” Akemi sighs, holding Amaya close in her arms as they sit at the foot of the bed, watching them both, painfully oblivious to what her older sisters were discussing.  Asa stops in her tracks to face Akemi, "Absolutely not, I will ask Reiji about the seating assignments and make sure none of us are too close to the triplets." she refutes, finally letting herself sit on an armchair, "Oh... Why must this happen? I know me and Kanato don't see eye to eye but then I hear what Ayato and Laito did to you, and it was only today? To think you spend five years like this and I wasn't around-" Akemi frowns at her eldest' sister, not wanting to meet her eyes, "Okay, okay, we will address this to Reiji another time, he's been busy lately." Akemi concedes as she lets Amaya leave her grasp, letting herself make herself at home in Akemi's bed. "Do you think they're planning to do something cool for our birthday? It’s tomorrow now." Amaya asks her sisters in Romanian as she rolls around in bed.

Akemi's eyes widen at Amaya's question, "I'm not exactly sure if they're even planning for our birthday in the first place." she ponders to herself, making sure Amaya doesn't fall off her bed from rolling around. "Besides, even if they're preparing to celebrate, I would rather do the cooking. I can't imagine them in the kitchen at all, they might as well blow up the entire everything inside to pieces." Asa adds, shaking her head at the thought of even Ayato in the kitchen, that alone seems impossible. "Hmm, I guess we can plan our birthday? Should we? It's been too long." Amaya asks her sisters again, the determined look in her eyes did not escape her sisters' eyes.

Asa gave her a smile in return, "I suppose so? Well, we will only need a cake, won't we?" she questioned as she gets up from the armchair to sit beside her sisters. "Is there any flavor you both want for tomorrow?"

-----------------

August 24, 1940, 4:00PM

“Would you lot behave for once? Is it so hard to mix both dry and wet ingredients?” Reiji exclaims, beholding a horrifying sight. The once spotless kitchen was now covered in a mixture of batter, flour, and broken eggs. “I ain’t doing this on purpose, ya know! Oi! Kanato put that damn bear down for fucks sake!” Ayato hollered at the purple-haired vampire who only glared at him, “Shut up! You don’t get to boss me around! You’re going to soil Teddy’s vest.” Kanato snapped, almost tearing Teddy’s head off from the commotion. “Oi! What the hell is going on there?!” The youngest shouts as he makes his way into the kitchen, holding several gift boxes in his hands towering over his head, “Uwah, what a mess, take the rest of the gifts, Subaru-kun, place the gifts somewhere safe. I feel like this cake is almost beyond saving.” Laito exclaims, tossing the bags in his arms in Subaru’s direction.

“Ahh?! The fuck do you think you’re doing?! Laito, come back here!!” Subaru shouted to no avail as Laito makes his way to the kitchen, not listening to the youngest. Left with no choice, Subaru slowly makes his way to the dining hall and lets out a breath of relief as he plops all the gifts down on the dining table. “Che, those assholes… making me carry all this… Shit, is ‘that gift’ okay?” he frantically sorts through the gifts, trying to remember which gift belongs to whom until he found a small box that he remembers picking while he and Laito looked around. “Phew… it didn’t break…” Subaru sighs in relief, as he opens the small box, tracing his fingers at its contents. “… Pwaah, you’re not planning on proposing to that girl this soon, are you?” Shu asks, lying down on the floor as he catches the youngest off guard. “H… Haah?!! No! W… What are you talking about??!!” Subaru stuttered out, shoving the box down into his pocket, far from sight.

“I’m just saying, if it wasn’t your temper, that may be the thing that scares her off… Haah... I’m tired.” Shu yawns, turning to his side as Subaru stacks the gifts around the eldest, hiding him from plain sight. “Just shut up! What I’ll give her later is none. Of. Your. Business.” Subaru grunted between his gritted teeth, trying to exercise caution as he places the bags and boxes on a table next to the sleeping vampire. Just as Subaru finishes sorting through the gifts, loud blasts ring from the kitchen.

“Uwah… This is more hopeless than I thought.” Laito huffed as he inspected the oven, which had been charred black alongside what should have been a cake. “Well, I guess we still have one more shot at making this cake, don’t we, Ayato-kun? ~” Laito asks, looking over his shoulder, “Oi Kanato, what are you trying to put in the damn batter? This is our last chance to make this cake work!” Ayato yelled, grabbing Kanato by the shoulder to reveal a bottle held close to his chest. Reiji snatches the bottle from Kanato’s grasp to inspect it, “…! I’ve been searching for this for the past few days… Kanato, were you trying to poison the cake?” Reiji interrogates the petite vampire who just glared at him, his nails clawing at the stuffed bear, ripping it open. “SHUT UP, SHE DESERVES EVERY SINGLE DROP OF IT, I’LL FORCE IT DOWN HER THROAT!!” Kanato wailed, his flailing arms pushing the bowls and utensils down to the ground only to stop midway with a crazed look in his eyes. “Fufu, I’ve talked it out with Teddy, We’ve already decided to kill her, and you can’t change our minds.” Kanato giggled hysterically, unaware of the stuffing falling from the stuffed bear, soaking up the fallen egg yolks.

“Kanato, cease what you’re doing at once! Father has instructed us not to kill them!” Reiji fumes, heat rising to his temples as he tries to stop the purple-haired vampire’s tantrums, “Ayato, bring your brother to his room to calm down, I’ll take over from here.” he instructed as he grabs a rag to wipe the counter. Ayato clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Tch, Oi, hysteric, quit crying already and take a shower, you reek of eggs!” he ordered, hoisting Kanato over his shoulder as he makes his way up the stairs, Leaving Laito and Subaru in the ruined kitchen. “Good grief… How are you three able to destroy this kitchen more than you’ve already done?” Reiji shuddered, pushing his glasses back to his face, debating whether he should lay his eyes on the mess again.

“Well, it appears I’ll have to handle the rest of this by myself. Laito, go upstairs and clean up. Most importantly, make sure none of the girls ever come down until everything is ready. They should not see anything- “Before Reiji could finish, he suddenly held his tongue once his eyes darted to the door, revealing the blonde vampire looking over at the state of the kitchen with a frown on her face. “Reiji, what’s the meaning of this?” Asa asks as her brows furrowed, trying to comprehend the situation at hand. “T… This is none of your concern, besides, what are you doing in the kitchen so suddenly?” Reiji chastised, attempting to deflect the question Asa gave him, “That’s right, Asa-chan~ You looked rather fatigued today, do you not? Let Reiji take care of this mess while I escort you back upstairs! ~” Laito suggested, while he grabs at Asa’s shoulders, forcing the blonde vampire out of the kitchen.

Taken aback, Asa struggles in Laito’s hold, causing his fingers to dig deeper into her shoulders. “Laito, let go of me, I’m clearly fine.” she demanded, turning her head to face the vampire behind her, “Aw, Miss Asa, can’t I show concern towards you? It would be a shame if you didn’t spend time with your sisters as much as you want, won’t it?” Laito laughs, ignoring the blonde vampire who only glared daggers at him. “That is none of your concern, I went to the kitchen to- “ Just as Asa was about to finish explaining, Laito quickly pushed her into Akemi’s room. “Yes, I’m sure you have your plans, but the kitchen is currently occupied at the moment, I’ll see all of you later at the dining hall, don’t leave the room till we say so, Bye now~!” Laito exclaimed cheerfully, slamming the door behind him.

Akemi jumps from her bed in shock at the sudden noise, “Wha… Just what’s going on down there?” she asks, clearly shaken from the noise. Frustrated, Asa drags her hand down her face, already feeling the pressure in her temples, “If I’m being honest right now, I’m loathing the fact that I was right about the kitchen blowing up.” She sighs, plopping herself on Akemi’s bed only to hear a yelp of pain coming from an unusual lump under the rose-patterned bedsheets. Taken aback, Akemi crawls towards the lump, pulling the bedsheets back to see Amaya rubbing her head in pain. “Amaya?! When did you get here?!” Akemi exclaimed, inspecting the youngest head for injuries. “Sorry… I just… I don’t want to be alone right now… It’s too loud.” Amaya whimpered, laying her head down back on the bed, “Shh, it’s okay… It’s not your fault.” Asa cooed, patting the youngest’s head.

“Both of you, I’m truly sorry… If I haven’t been so caught up with… everything. Maybe we would have at least had a candle to blow out.” Asa apologizes, looking down at her sisters with a melancholic look in her eyes. “Whatever disaster going on downstairs is not your fault.” Akemi protested as she grabbed Asa by the shoulders, “It doesn’t matter, we’re finally together after… who knows how long…” Akemi whimpered, trying to hide her grief, “If it helps… I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here… I truly owe it to that man for finding me.” Amaya apologizes, shuffling closer to wedge herself between her sisters.

Just before anyone could speak again, three precise knocks came from the door, “Akemi? Are you in there? Are your sisters with you right now? It’s Reiji.” Confused, Akemi lifted herself off the bed and made her way to the door, revealing Reiji, who looked more gaunt than usual. “Good gods… what on earth happened to you?” Akemi gasps, inspecting the plum-haired vampire only to be pushed back slightly, “That is not important right now. Do dress up in your best and take this with you.” Reiji ordered as he handed Akemi small but intricately decorated box. “Wait… what-“ Akemi stuttered and before she could call out to Reiji, he already left.

Curiouser than ever, Amaya perked up and made her way to inspect the box, Marveling in its intense red color. “Oh? What do you think is inside? Can we open it?” she asks, her fingers snatching the smaller box and cradling it in her hands before opening its contents. “Let’s see… ‘Please come down to the dining hall in your best.’ Asa reads, looking over at her sisters. Squealing in glee, Amaya clasps Akemi’s hand, “I knew it, there is a birthday party for us! Akemi, help me pick what to wear!” Akemi shakes her head, trying to hide her smile caused by her youngest sister’s infectious happiness.

“Okay…Okay, let’s go and get dressed.”

-----------------

August 24, 1940, 6:00 PM

“I can smell something sweet coming from downstairs!” Amaya exclaimed as she made her way down the stairs, “Slow down, Amaya, you’ll trip on your skirt.” Asa called out, pulling her long gloves over her arms while Akemi attempted to smoothen out any wrinkles on her evening gown. ‘It can’t be… there’s no way that they could pull something like this in less than a week…’ Akemi ponders as she makes her way to the dining hall, only to be met with the once-dark dining room now flooded with bright lights from the flick of a switch.

“Happy birthday, Asa-chan! Akemi-chan! Amaya-chan! We prepared all this just for the three of you!” Laito exclaimed, his arms spread wide, revealing the room decorated with several balloons scattered across the floor, The tables now have different kinds of food on display as well as a large strawberry cake, surrounded by gifts in different sizes. “Took you three long enough, does that mean we can dig into the Takoyaki, right?” Ayato grumbled, looking over at the plates. "That’s right, I too am sick of waiting, we can finally have the opportunity to eat some sweets. Don't you think, Teddy?" Kanato cooed, now cradling Teddy who is now stitched back together.

Amaya looked over her shoulder to meet her sisters’ gaze, trying to contain her excitement, “See??! I told you so! Isn’t this the best thing ever?” she squealed as she tugged Asa’s hand, pointing at the decorated room with so much wonder in her eyes. “… I… so that explains the fiasco in the kitchen. You let your brothers handle the cooking? It caused so much of a racket.” Asa hummed in thought, looking over at Reiji. “Well, we had to split up the tasks to prepare for this occasion as best as you can with only two days. If it concerns you, I did end up cooking most of the food in the end. Well then, you three, take your respective seats next to each other.” Reiji explains as he adjusts his glasses again, his eyes looking over Amaya and Asa take their seats, leaving the chair between them empty. “Akemi, what’s wrong? Over here!” Amaya waved at her sister who stood still with her lips parted in surprise.

“Hmm? She seems to be frozen in place. Oiii~ Akemi-chan? Earth to Akemi-chan~” Laito chimed, waving his hands in front of Akemi, only to be taken aback by the tears trickling down her face. “O… Oi, why are you crying? Akemi?” Subaru stammered as he made his way towards her and reached out to hold her gloved hand, squeezing it in hopes of bringing her comfort. “Haah… You better sit down first. Otherwise, this party won’t start. Shu sighs as he watches Subaru help Akemi take a seat between her sisters. “… Are you alright? Is there something on your mind?” Asa questions as she hands her sister a handkerchief that Akemi takes while Amaya watches her, keeping quiet. “Ah… I thought I’d never be able to celebrate like this after all this time… It was so hard for me to even mention it.” She sobs, clenching the handkerchief in her hands as more tears run down her face.

Subaru looks over at the weeping vampire, after letting himself think, he eventually turns Akemi’s chair to face him, kneeling to her level in hopes of seeing her face. “… Don’t be so glum, they’re here now, aren’t they?” he asks, his eyes not leaving Akemi’s as she stares at him in disbelief, “You don’t need to be swayed by these unnecessary thoughts anymore… I… Your sisters can keep you company now.” Subaru corrects himself, gripping the edges of Akemi’s seat, feeling more at peace once her tears have ceased. “Oh, Subaru…I…” Akemi murmurs, trembling slightly at the gesture as she reaches for his face.

“Besides, I wanted to give this to you. Happy birthday.” Subaru huffs as he pulls a small box out of his pocket and places it in Akemi’s hands, piquing her curiosity. “… Ah? What are you trying to pull off? Are you trying to tie the knot with her or something?” Ayato prods, “Oooh~ that reminds me, it was me and Subaru who thought about what to give you girls on your birthday, He was so secretive about what he wanted to give you, nfu~” Laito exclaimed, causing Amaya to perk up and look over at Akemi, “Oh… Oh! What’s going on??! Akemi, what’s going on between you and Subaru??” Amaya interrogated as she jumped from her seat, eager for an answer.

Subaru feels his face getting hot as red paints his cheeks “Sh… Shut up! It’s not like that! Quit it, both of you!” he yells, causing Shu to chuckle at the youngest “Sure, it’s definitely not like what everyone is imagining.” Shu smirks. “Hah! No wonder you’re clingy with her. Can’t blame you though, she’s really easy on the eyes. “ Ayato snarks, causing Subaru to glare at him as Akemi opens her gift. “Oh… this is…” Akemi gasps as she pulls a small tin case from the box, opening it to reveal rouge with a dusty-pink hue. “I didn’t know what color you wanted, so I just picked whatever… You can just throw it out if you want-” Subaru mutters until he is shocked as warm hands cupped his face. “No, I love it. I love it so much! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Akemi cried as she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting Subaru stroke her hair.

“Wait…Does that mean I also have gifts?” Amaya asks, looking over at the pile of gifts keenly”, Reiji places a hand on her shoulder, “Not yet, we will open the gifts after we have eaten. Come everyone, the food will get cold at this rate.” He ordered, causing a wave of excitement amongst the hungry vampires. “About time! Oi, you three, you better try some of the Takoyaki made by Ore-sama!” Ayato claimed, shoving Takoyaki onto Asa’s plate. “Ah, how thoughtful of you.” Asa thanked him as she inspected the pile of takoyakis on her plate before distributing the bigger ones between her sisters “Here, try this.” Asa smiles. “It looks tasty.” Amaya squeals, Akemi nodding along to her sister’s statement. “Huh? What did she just say?” Ayato squints, at Amaya, suspicious about what she just said. “She said it looks tasty.” Asa replied as she patted Ayato’s shoulder “Of course, I helped in the kitchen after all!” Ayato boasts, a grin plastered on his face.

“Why can’t we cut the cake already? I’m sick of waiting, aren’t you too, Teddy?” Kanato whines, looking over at the strawberry cake. “It does look pretty, doesn’t it?” Akemi chimed, causing the petite vampire to look at her, “Do you like strawberries, Akemi-san?” he asked, “Strawberries are my favorite, raspberry is nice too.“ Akemi replies, Kanato smiles at the answers, “Fufu~ Of course that’s the right answer. Right, Teddy?” he asks, holding the now-mended Teddy close. “Che, save it for later. Eat first.” Subaru grunts, his words heavily contrast with when he tucks a blonde lock behind Akemi’s ear.

“Before we eat, I would like to make a toast” Reiji declared as he raised a glass of champagne, “I would like to this glass to my cousins, Asa, Akemi, and our new addition, Amaya. Despite all the hardships you may have faced during your years apart.” A pause filled the room as Reiji noticed that Shu was fast asleep in his chair. Giggles filled the room as Reiji made his way to shake Shu awake, causing him to stand up and pull a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Pwaah…Now we celebrate not only your birth but the first year you are now together after so long. Cheers to the three of you.” Shu declared, raising his glass high up before taking a sip.

Smiling amongst themselves, Asa, Akemi, and Amaya raise their glasses with their new family.

“Cheers!”

[booksniffingbastard]

AU Fanfiction Projects on AO3

Shameless fanfics:

Doomsday Blues - series

**currently down for maintenance**

This fic is not abandoned, ever. It's far too personal and at times I use it as an outlet for the thoughts I have that'll eat me up, if I don't get them out of my system. But. I'm not sure it works in its current form. I think I need to tear it into bits and pieces and reassemble something new. Probably it would be better as several independent stories than just one long one. I'm also unsure if it even works as a Shameless fanfiction. So it'll sit in my docs, while I figure things out.

The story of a demon summoning gone wrong and the consequences for Chicagoans, especially two families in the South Side.

Work: By the Pricking of My Thumbs - AO3 - Spotify playlist

Work: A Finnish Knife Strikes - AO3 - Spotify playlist

Very long, very self-indulgent and very, very weird. I've done absolutely nothing to reign in my weird and pretentious self while writing this, so it's ... a lot.

Writing this particular story is cathardic for me and in some ways I use it to deal with a lot of bad shit that has happened in my life and with my own mental illness.

A lot of angst, a lot of dark humor, and a lot of smaller stories weaved into a big one.

Inspired by works of: Mikhail Bulgakov, Ray Bradbury, Isaac Bashevis Singer, Avram Davidson, Nicholai Gogol

and

Folk tales from Eastern Europe and Ireland, The Key of Solomon: Ars Goethia by Alastair Crowley

Ian Gallagher and the Amazing Intelligent Machines

One shot, currently being written, but very, very slowly.

Sort of a Shameless/IT Crowd - crossover

A beautiful love story between a mentally ill man and his microwave oven.

It's as stupid as it sounds.

Inspiration: My own irrational fear of machines.

The Masochist's Cookbook - Spotify Playlist

The story of how Ian Gallagher met his family.

I never write anything but AU stories. This one takes place in the entirely fictional town of Arson, Illinois in the year 2000.

I've never written a whump before, so it's also a challenge to myself. I'm really good at creating problems, but solving them.... It's a journey.

Inspired by: All the high school tv shows and movies.

Outer Banks fanfics:

Bromancing the Stone.

I've always loved the action-adventure aspect of the show and wanted to expand on it, but aim for a story more akin to the likes of Indiana Jones, Romancing the Stone, The Mummy (2001), Pirates of the Caribbiean, Treasure Planet, The Princess Bride.

You know: Fun, romance and fighting. No major character deaths planned. (Seriously wouldn't do that in a swashbuckling adventure. It's been 30+ years and I'm still pissed about Rufio.)

Right now, it looks like it's going to be set in the late 1930s or early 1940s, but it most definitely will have the historical accuracy of a Disney movie. So racism and homophobia isn't a problem.

But probably nazis. Irredemably evil nazis. It'll give me an excuse to dust off and hopefully improve my terrible german.

And the story is going to be gay.

I'm trying to make it light, but I'm a silly person, not a fundamentally happy person, so it probably won't be angst-free.

I'm still plotting out the storyline, but I'm hoping to start uploading material before the year is out.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - April 2nd

It’s been a quiet reading week for me, but I reread a favorite fic which was nice. Give a look see to all of this week’s stories and be sure to leave a comment/kudos for your author. 

~~ 

given you a number, taken away your name by janonny 

As Tony behaves more erratically, S.H.I.E.L.D. sends in Steve as an undercover agent in S.I. to be Natasha’s back-up. Except Steve is really, really not cut out for this undercover business.

-

Before the lift’s doors closed, Stark suddenly grinned and said, “Call me Tony. Have a better rest of the day, big guy.”

Awkwardly, Steve lifted his free hand and waved as the doors slid shut between them.

What...what was he doing? Why was he waving? Steve hurriedly put his hand down and turned around sharply.

Second Opinion by Annie D (scaramouche)

Written for an anon on tumblr, who requested "short domesticity fic where you can tell that Steve and Tony have been together for THAT long".

I kinda failed at at the domesticity portion, but this Steve and Tony are very, VERY together.

Dreamboat to the rescue by shetlandowl 

When the last single person in Tony's close friend-group finds her special someone, said person makes it her personal mission to make sure Tony doesn't die alone. Getting her off his case will take a miracle, so Tony tries to fabricate one. It doesn't go according to plan.

The Stolen Shirt by RiotFalling 

Tony steals Steve’s shirt. It has an effect.

Ripple Effect by sabrecmc

After the events of Infinity War, Steve is sent back in time on a desperate mission to find the Tesseract. Instead, he meets up with 21-year old Tony, still reeling from his parents' deaths. Who, naturally, tries to climb Steve like a tree. Somehow, this fixes everything.

Fuse is Fireside by GotTheSilver

if Tony lived post Endgame au.

Because, here’s the thing, he loves Pepper. He does. He’s not so much of an asshole that he’d marry her if he didn’t.

But Steve.

Steve is like gravity. Always has been.

We're Dating by Whothefuckyduckyisbucky

Tony thinks they're dating. They totally are. Someone should tell Steve.

Set after The avengers movie. In the 1940's male friendships were a lot more affectionate, so Steve doesn't always get that the affection Tony shows him isn't platonic.

of dreams, ice and scales by janonny

Tony is Iron Man. He’s also a dragon who has learned that you can’t keep everything you love.

Steve is Captain America. He’s also a knight who falls into deep sleep for decades and wakes to a different world.

Together, they rescue each other.

-

At nine, Tony trembles when Maria comes to him and says with hushed urgency, “Never give your scales to anyone. You’ll only regret it.”

At sixteen, Steve trembles when they lower Sarah into a hole in the ground. 

A Moment In History by itsallAvengers 

Everything was going fine until Tony Stark from ten years in the past landed on his ass in their kitchen.

Present-day Tony supposes this is just another Sunday Morning.

The Goddamn Suit by orphan_account

Steve is attracted to Tony's suits. Tony finds out that the Captain is a slut.

Ride by FestiveFerret

“Oh god,” Steve’s hips jerked in their confines. His cock was so hard it hurt, his jaw ached in the best possible way, and it was all too much. “Tony, please.”

For A Good Time Call by BeenAsleepFor70Years

Steve explores his sexuality by trying out a phone sex service. He may just leave the situation crushing on the guy at the other end of the phone. He already had feelings for his teammate Iron Man, now a new crush gets thrown into the mix. What ever shall he do?

couldn't whisper (when you needed it shouted) by only_more_love 

Steve still can't let go of that damned flip phone. (Really, he can't let go of Tony.)

i want the green grass and the tomato plants by Anonymous

When Tony arrives to Stardew Valley, he spends the first five minutes staring.

(Or, a Stardew Valley AU. Tony rebuilds a farm and owns chickens. Steve paints.)

[daryfromthefuture]

intro :)

i realized i never made an intro post so here it is lmao-

hi tumblr, my name is dary! i go by she/her pronouns, but feel free to use they/them as well, i don't mind :D

i'm 18 years old and from europe (my timezone is gmt +1)

as you can see from my blog, my main interest is the back to the future franchise :] i do things for the fandom like writing and drawing; you can find me on ao3 under the same username (daryfromthefuture) and on instagram under @/rynaaa_a.

talk to me about bttf in general but specifically (bold = main fixation):

⭐1940s doc/manhattan project lore

⭐1950s doc

⭐bttf the musical

⭐bttf the game

⭐doc and marty's friendship (!!!)

some fun facts about me:

i learned to skateboard because of marty mcfly and my favorite drink is pepsi (WITH sugar)

i speak english, german, russian and like basic french (english being my third language learned out of these)

my favorite subject is history and 20th century history is another big interest of mine

writing is my favorite thing to do ever and i want to write movies someday

my favorite bands are huey lewis and the news & queen

i'm taller than mjf by three inches

i ran out of fun facts, may add later LOL

thank you for checking out my blog! i'm always open to making new acquaintaces, so feel free to message me :D

fanfic directory under the cut!

FANFIC DIRECTORY (status: September 22, 2024)

MULTI-CHAPTER:

Until I Get Home: Stuck in 1885 AU fic, focusing on Marty and Doc's relationship and how it evolves when exposed to various different circumstances during their time in the 19th century. Words: 100,100, 30 chapters. Status: Complete

Fourteen scraps of paper: Fic focusing on filling out the 30 years between 1955 and 1985 in the Lone Pine timeline. Words: 11,243, 5/18 chapters. Status: On hiatus (dunno whether I will pick it up again tbh...)

November: Smaller, slice of life fic set post-trilogy. Marty gets sick and Doc takes care of him. Words: 4,636, 3 chapters. Status: Complete

We Do Need Roads: Road Trip fic also set post-trilogy. Doc takes Marty on a road trip across the country after the latter graduates, which gives them a great oppurtunity to catch up. Words: 19,016 (estimated to be around 80K), chapters 5/20. Status: Work in progess

The Perils And The Promise: A rewrite of Jules Verne's "Around The World In 80 Days" with the BTTF characters in the main roles (man I love ridiculous AUs). Words: 57,111 37/37 chapters. Status: Complete

TRINITY TRILOGY

Three stories set in a universe in which Marty accidentally ended up trapped in the 1940s and follows Doc as he goes through the Manhattan Project and the years after. Together, the stories will take up around 135,000 words and 60 chapters. Hyperfixation has quite the power guys lmao

Most People Were Silent (45,352 words; complete)

A Few People Cried (45,024 words; complete)

A Few People Laughed (17,868 words; WIP!!)

ONESHOTS

Time Waits For No One: AU of BTTF 3 in which Marty comes down with pneumonia during the week in 1885. Words: 10,054

Flight Of Fancy: A character stufy of Doc, focusing on his relationship with science and the development of the flux capacitor. Words: 6,022

The Weight Of Us: A small "crossover" (is it really a crossover if it could be canon) with Oppenheimer (2023) in which 1940s Doc and Robert talk in August 1945. Words: 1,129

He Didn't Start The Fire: Prequel oneshot about Marty and Doc's early friendship days and how the teen reacts upon finding out that Doc worked on the Manhattan Project. Words: 5,459

Double Visions: Doc and Marty have a heart-to-heart after the events of BTTF: The Game. Words: 2,028

A Day At The I.F.T.: In a universe in which BTTF: The Ride is canon, Marty visits the institute of future technology. Words: 1,764

Time Heals All Wounds: Oneshot set in 1931. Young Emmett and Marty shenanigans. Words: 1,031

Nighttime Inn: Miitopia AU oneshot in which our hero Marty talkes to Great Sage Doc post-final battle. (have I meantioned I love ridiculous AUs)

Meet The Family: post-trilogy oneshot focusing on Marty's inner conflict about the whole Doc and Clara thing

[saintsenara]

death (eaters) in paradise bellatrix lestrange/lord voldemort mature | 7.3k words

‘this is lovely,’ she said to the muggle bell-boy, who gave her a cheeky smile.

‘i asked for a twin,’ said the dark lord.

the bell-boy looked at bella, and then looked at the dark lord as though he were insane. ‘sorry, señor,' he said, not sounding very sorry at all, ‘but this was all there was available. you’ll be fine to share with her, no?’

a spanish anti-muggle group wishes to meet with the dark lord in marbella. so, it makes perfect sense for his favourite lieutenant to go with him. after all, she could do with a holiday.

this piece was written for week six of @ladiesofhpfest, on the theme of hot girl summer [you can find the masterlist for this week's fics here].

authors notes under the cut

and it's too hot here to think to much about anything, so this is not a particularly deep story - the inspiration was entirely the fact that the idea of bellamort on holiday in marbella is funny. these are not two people who can be easily imagined lounging by a pool - although it has always tickled me that lord voldemort is ascending to the height of his powers alongside a period of luridly-coloured pop culture. the tiki cocktails of the late 1940s and the disco drinks of the 1970s shouldn’t be something one associates with him. and yet.

but there is something serious underneath all the brits-abroad capering [rip to the german tourist, hated by a nation for hogging the sun loungers]. i’ve always been struck by the fact that - even though jkr considers it to be more egalitarian than the muggle world - the wizarding world is constrained by extremely restrictive gender roles.

and i am convinced [and have explored more seriously elsewhere - especially in my piece nor all that glisters gold and its notes] that one of the reasons why bellatrix is so easily radicalised into being an enthusiastic death eater is because voldemort gives her a chance to transcend the expectations placed upon her by her gender and her social class. in death (eaters) in paradise she finds herself free - for the first time in her life - of pureblood modesty standards [after all, in canon, wizarding clothes seem to cover much more of the body than contemporary muggle fashions], of the need to pretend her marriage is happy, and of the need to pretend that she isn’t a sexual creature.

in death (eaters) in paradise [as, again, i’ve explored more seriously in my piece other women and of purer blood and its notes], there’s the idea that bellatrix’s lack of interest in pregnancy - and her desire to see sex as something with value beyond society’s belief that she should want lots of children, as is her duty as a pureblood - is considered quite scandalous in the circles in which she moves. that voldemort should be the only person she knows who doesn’t think this may not initially seem to be in line with his character - but, actually, the canonical voldemort tolerates a huge amount of casual affection from bellatrix. until the last stages of deathly hallows, he allows her to be physically very close to him, to touch him, to allude to the relationship between them, and so on - and my justification for why they are a sincerely plausible couple is directly connected to this. both bellatrix and voldemort want to be really known and really understood, and they provide a level of recognition and comfort to each other which is there in canon and really fun to draw out in fan-fiction.

plus, him giving her a horcrux is - and i’ll die on this hill - weirdly romantic.

[why i always write him as an arse man is unknown to me, but good for him.]

three final points: yes, i’m aware what the real-life john lewis incident was; rookwood’s hot daughter has turned up in other women of purer blood as well, and maybe she deserves her own story; and this is the dress jane russell wears in gentlemen prefer blondes which is seared into lord voldemort’s retinas:

stunning.