#interpreting ''au'' as something that could not happen in canon

[spinnysocks]

kiburi x ushari but specifically doomed kiburi x ushari. more than anyone else in the army they believe with full sincerity that scar's plan HAS to work because they can't succeed without him

[juliareed]

There is a lighthouse In the middle of the deep And I'm still stranded on the shoreline there And nobody hears me scream

[wheucto]

the way ii16 explodes several of my aus from being mostly canon compliant <3

[abyssalzones]

can you tell us about your interpretation of the better world universe!!!! especially curious how stan/mystery trio works into it

hell yesssss I definitely can. ABW is maybe my favorite niche gf thing and probably the only "AU" I care about but that may be due to the fact that it's an AU that exists in the canon and we know so little about it. so it has an established foundation that you're left to fill in the details with yourself... it's like a poke bowl to me. you can put anything in there

and since I felt like it here's a bonus pic of them living their best lives pestering ford

[explanation-y stuff under ze cut because I got very longwinded]

as for specifics of how I see everything working out, there's a few key points that establish why things happened differently from canon, the most important being:

Stan agrees to hide journal #3 somewhere

Ford reunites with fiddleford and they begin working together again

both of these are already confirmed in canon, the first being the most obvious "schism" between timelines. literally everything in ABW is the way it is because stan made a different decision. kind of crazy in terms of its implications: I feel like that moment in the basement is a really good example of how stan gets so few opportunities to shape her own life (while ford is in the picture...) because of her role as the 'black sheep' twin. it's not exactly a premeditated decision to push ford into the portal, it's her acting on feelings that have been bubbling unaddressed under the surface for 10-something years at that point, and only then does she have any sort of power over the "narrative" of both her life and the story itself, something that from her pov has been ford's story. and in the canon timeline, she says no.

so like, what the hell made her say yes in ABW's timeline? this question kind of haunts me because I feel like it has to be entirely dependent on what the inside of stan's head looked like at the time. it's possible something influenced her, but overall I think it's more interesting if ford did and said all the exact same things up until this point and it really was entirely dependent on stan's decision internally.

so stan says yes, goes on a big trip to the other side of the world somehow, and buries journal 3 somewhere probably never to be found again. yay! but, uh, going on a trip like ford was suggesting would... take weeks. that would leave ford alone again. and not to have my established thoughts informed by new material or anything but bill did give him 72 hours.

so, next order of business: how in the fuck would ford convince fiddleford to rejoin him??? I'm unsure between journal 3 and tbob's information how ford may have tried to reach out to him but it seems like fiddleford was pretty adamant about staying away from that guy, out of guilt or fear of bill/the portal or both. I don't think logically it would just be a matter of ford calling him enough times or finding out where he lives- and I think that's kind of getting away from the point of why ABW is the way it is too. if stan is suddenly making decisions that are influencing ford's life, I think it would be similarly interesting if fiddleford also possessed some unique autonomy in this scenario.

aka I think ford got fucked up badly (possibly involving losing an eye) and fiddleford found him half-dead while trying to burn his house down. [mabel voice] romance!

to clarify: I don't think fiddleford is obligated to take care of ford. a major part of him leaving the project was finally making the decision to leave a situation that was hurting him, that he'd been staying in entirely because he still cared about ford and felt on some level he could still help him (which gets broken with "I don't need you!") and I think that's a very reasonable decision on his part. but I also do have to think about all the times ford has been "the hero" in situations where fiddleford ends up hurt and helpless because of something traumatizing. I think it'd be fascinating to see that reversed and have fiddleford actively making the difficult, messy decision to take care of that guy even when they're on miserable terms. and so begins like a solid week of these two desperately trying to look out for eachother in a nightmare scenario where one of them probably needs to go to a hospital + keeps getting possessed off and on and the other is going through the worst addiction/withdrawal cycle of his life irt the memory gun. yay! (part of the reason this even works To Me also is heavily informed by the lack of secrets: if fiddleford is actively dressing that guy's wounds he can't really keep it all to himself anymore. crushingly intimate perhaps...)

stan gets back eventually. such is the context of this pic

from there it's a nebulous grab-bag of things I think could happen up to the foundation of the institute.

how do all three of these incredibly fucked up individuals get along? well they don't but then they do.

how do they get bill out of ford's head without performing amateur brain surgery? idk. my best guess is a fiddleford and stan bonding trip into ford's mindscape that potentially helps answer the first question. possibly utilizing the memory gun. shrugs.

what's up with that one picture you drew of parallel fidds holding the memory gun up to ford's head? well. okay that one might or might not be something that actually happened but the idea was just that ford is coping badly with a few specific things and I liked the idea of fiddleford "holding onto" something for him to remember and work through later when he's ready to deal with it, it's an interesting reversal of how he's normally more of a memory sink.

from the point in canon about them stabilizing the portal so that bill can't use it to get into their dimension anymore onward, I think it just becomes a matter of them living the lives they could've always had in canon without realizing it. hence "a better world." some cool tidbits I like to think about:

stan gets to transition much earlier (late 1990's perhaps?) and probably starts going by "lee" instead

she's also the institute's CMO and is mostly in it for going on business trips abroad with ford. and the money. obviously.

the institute probably also legitimately changes the world on a sociopolitical scale outside of just interdimensional travel since their research renders them uniquely untouchable and all three of them are trans (I'm cartoon logic-ing a little bit here just let me have this one)

ford is the eccentric bill nye esque face of the company, fiddleford is the backbone. that isn't to say ford doesn't do anything as I think he'd always moreso be in it for the science than the fame (though it is nice to be more than comfortable financially) but it's an open secret fiddleford keeps tabs on literally everything, he's still very security-oriented.

the northwest family now has a more prominent ongoing rivalry with the pines family that could be very funny to think about. they've taken all the LOGGING JOBS with their damn SCIENCE

part of the reason I thought ford should lose an eye is because I think having him wear an eyepatch would be a neat way to parallel stan's "role" as mr. mystery visually! stan wears an eyepatch for no legitimate reason to keep up appearances as a schlocky tourist trap host, but it also alludes to her being more than she seems under the surface. ford's eyepatch does sort of have a legitimate reason to exist, but he also could just wear his glass eye and it would probably be less "conspicuous." he chooses the eyepatch instead because it's part of his image as Stanford Pines, Founder of Oddology, and because it keeps him safe. there's also a little residual scarring there from damage to his eyelid/tarsal plate which could easily represent him hiding the more "damaged" aspects of himself under his successes. ouch.

I'm unsure if ford and stan would ever feel comfortable getting back in touch with their parents. I know a lot of people go that route with fan material but I don't think they should have to. I think they're much happier now having healed the rift between them on their own and getting to live successful lives for themselves, rather than to prove something to their father.

that being said I do think fiddleford gets in touch with emma-may and his son again and they end up on better terms with time and a Lot of effort. tate's family is now composed of his father, mother, "uncle" ford (in the ye olde gay closeted sense of referring to your dad's partner as an uncle), and auntie lee, and I like to think they go out on trips to the lake together often :]

also ford and fiddleford tie the knot unofficially (in the eyes of the government anyway) in 1990. owed to stan somehow getting "ordained" as a rabbi. don't ask me how.

the pines twins start visiting the institute from a younger age than they do irt visiting stan in the show-- but they're only permitted to come along on heavily-supervised interdimensional excursions once they turn 12. cue antics!

anyway, hopefully this extremely longwinded and loosely structured mess helped answer your question. I like ABW sooo so so much you guys

[osterby]

This, too. There is a wrangled canonical tag (which has synned a few chatty tags, but only so many) and it had enough fic for me to note the ship trends within it, but since I'm not in the fandom I can't speculate about how common it is to tag PoC!Hermione (Black!Hermione is a slightly smaller tag and a subtag of the PoC one) and what factors might influence a fic with this interpretation being or not being tagged for it.

But we can do this:

Works tagged Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling and last updated during 2024: 827

Since Hermione is played by a Black actor in that play, I'm assuming that works in this fandom tag will feature a Black Hermione no matter if the fic is tagged for that or not (someone in the fandom would be able to say if that's a reasonable assumption or not. I'm grabbing these numbers to demonstrate how to do the research, not to prove any points about someone else's blorbo).

Hermione shows up in the fifth most popular ship tag for the Cursed Child fandom last year, with 57 works.

Hermioine/Draco doesn't show up on the sidebar, I have to search for it specifically to see that it got a measly 16 fics last year.

When I filter the Cursed Child tag for the "Person of Colour Hermione Granger" tag, I only get four fics, and the Black Hermione Granger tag turns up the same four. This may well be a trove of untagged Black Hermione (or it might not be, and those of you reading and writing this fic would know where to actually find an unmarked trove).

And the trends are even stronger than in the PoC!Hermione tag itself. She's *far* more likely to be shipped with Ron than Draco here.

The commenters both mention Indian!Harry as an interpretation that goes hand in hand with Black!Hermione. It might be interesting to see the ship trends for Hermione in tagged PoC!Harry fic. Or there might be other ships or character interpretations that indicate a different type of fic and a different read on Hermione than what's driving the main Hermione/Draco tag.

Someone grab the stats for those, and for other tags and tag combinations that I can't guess at because I'm just a bystander running numbers for the things I'm seeing people talk about :)

Taging @shanastoryteller and @theoktiste because I'm responding to your comments here.

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/olderthannetfic/772056386901295104

To clarify I don’t think poc hc people like, outnumber and outsell (implied or explicitly) white hermione or harry or anything, just that they are numerically significant and it’s imo just factually incorrect and bad data practice to include those fics in data meant to represent white character x white character, unless the explicit thing being discussed/depicted is race re: what source material inspires fanwork, as opposed to what people are writing. Teasing all of those fics out of trawled data is, of course, more work, though.

--

0.3% of HP fic on AO3 is tagged with Hermione as a POC and 0.2% with Harry as a POC. I don't know whether there are a lot of people who think it's so obvious that they wouldn't bother to tag. I'm not sure where I'd place the cutoff for this being meaningful either.

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (vii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the paranormal.

A/N: hello. i am late again. i almost gave up but we are here. for better or for worse. i will most likely go back ad edit the second half again ok love u guys mwahmwah

Previous part || Series masterlist

Only after hours, nay, a full day of hunching over his desk, eyes red-rimmed and burning, four crushed cans of energy drinks next to him lending to him the nervous energy of a chihuahua, Bucky realises that there’s no beating it.

He absentmindedly takes another sip of the RedBull, flinching when the taste registers. Either he’d reached his threshold or the medicine flavour had begun morphing into something else entirely. The caffeine didn’t even work on him, so really, he was just placebo-ing himself into having energy. 

Every site he’s visited has had a vastly different interpretation; ones that don't match what he thinks has been happening, or the context past his past provides. Others are simply blatantly wrong based on the additional research he, in his infinite wisdom and totally accurate self-assessment tendencies, has been gathering in the last 3 days. 

The Star. Six of Cups. The Hanged Man.

Bucky knows he could ask someone in real life about this, someone who possibly had more experience than a simple website whose code broke every time he tried to scroll to the bottom. However, that would mean that he had to tell them his dead sister was probably haunting him out of her spite and hatred for the very fibres of his being.

Also, Bucky may be haunted by his dead relatives, but he’s not haunted enough to actually leave his room over it. 

Video consultations were also an option, but he’s convinced that if word got out that Bucky Barnes was half-convinced ghosts were following him around, it would make headlines for a mighty long week. 

Therefore, he resorts to shady, online websites that demand he pay up before giving him the results of the readings they’ve done for him. 

The “lady” that he paid to talk to using Steve’s credit card on mistytarot.com types for a very long time before a message comes through.

The thought bubble disappears for another half an hour, and Bucky thinks hat either she is a complete scam, or it’s run by someone who is about as technologically proficient as Steve was. 

But a message does in fact come through, and it’s enough to have him be covninced that the 20 bucks he blew on Steve’s card was worth it. 

Lady Lilia 

Considering that you think you’re being haunted, The Star could represent the absence of hope. Do you feel like you’re being trapped in darkness? As if you are being abandoned by the universe and with no room for healing?

B. Barneswell i forgot about it until now

Lady Lilia If your sister passed away a long time ago, the reason The Six of Cups may have presented itself is because you may be feeling like you're ensnared in the past, constantly reliving moments that hurt or confuse you, rather than finding peace. 

A frown grows on his face. 

Lady Lilia If you’re haunted by a person who used to be in your life and it is reminding you of past mistakes, The Hanged Man could be because feel like you're stuck in a cycle of stagnation, unable to move forward, as if these spirits are keeping you suspended in a state of emotional paralysis. 

However, if the cards were upright–

Bucky slams the laptop shut, inhaling and exhaling sharply through his nose.

From the corner of his eye, his phone lights up with the fifth missed call in the last ten minutes, but considering that he keeps that thing on silent, he never even noticed.

Shoving aside whatever he may be thinking for the moment, he checks the caller ID, only for feelings of confusion and despair to be immediately replaced with annoyance, or disgust even. 

He calls back anyway, preparing for the worst. 

“Did you drink all my RedBull?” Clint booms the second he picks up.

“No,” Bucky lies smoothly.

“Fucker, I know it was you. Pay me back. With interest.”

“No.”

Clint switches to whining. “You know I need that shit to stay awake at night. Some of us don’t have superhero cocaine in our system.”

“I don’t care, go to sleep at a normal hour.”

“Say, did you drink every last one?” Clint instantly switches to a curious tone for a second. “Because one of them’s not like the others.”

Bucky looks at the cans that littered his bedroom floor. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you what it is over the phone.”  

“Why?” 

“Let’s just say it’s not exactly allowed in the country, but–”

Bucky cuts the call and tosses it onto the bed. 

He runs a hand through his hair, softly exhaling while contemplating whether or not to continue the chat. Steve wouldn’t miss another 20 dollars, he had the wealth of a small prince with all that army back pay bullshit. In fact, Steve should ideally be funding more of Bucky’s endeavours. 

There comes a knock at his door.

Bucky immediately leaps off the bed, sprinting to the door, because he fuckin knows that knock, goddamn it–

He throws open the door before you get the chance to full body slam against it.

“Oh.” You blink, relaxing away from your stance. “Hey. How’d you know–”

“You do this every week,” he breaks in. “You do this multiple times a day.” 

“Don’t you dare say I’m predictable,” you warn, raising a finger. “I’ll start crying right here, then you’ll have to deal with that. You wanna see snot running down my–”

Bucky slams the door shut again, waiting to turn around. 

“Can you take me to the doctor?” Your voice is muffled through the solid wood.

It’s enough to make him hesitate, hand on the doorknob.

“What’s wrong with you?” he inquires.. 

“Nothing, I’m perfect,” you reply instinctively, before course correcting, “Wait, no, I’m sick.”  

He lets his head drop against the door. “Go to the fucking infirmary.”

“The infirmary told me to go to the hospital. Can you just take me?” you bug. “They won’t discharge me unless I have someone with me to drive me back.”

“You have a head injury?” Bucky asks, before following it with, “Actually, that tracks.”

“Rude.” 

“Ask Nat.”

“Nat’s in Lagos.”

“Ask Sam.” 

“Yoga.”

“Clint.”

“Really.”

“Glad to know I’m your first choice,” he mumbles, opening up the door. 

You send him a blistering smile. “You’re my favourite choice.” 

______

“You gotta take this turn,” you instruct, too close to the actual crossing. 

“The nearest hospital’s five minutes away, what the hell are you talking about?“ he points out, eyes on the road. 

“We’re going to the one on King’s Road,” you read off of Google maps. “Take that lef-– well, you missed that. Now you gotta make a u-turn.”

“What’s the problem with Chastain Park?” he demands. “King’s Road is half an hour away.”

“This one’s got all my files,” you insist. “Otherwise I gotta start over and it's so much effort.”

“Aren’t you in a database?”

“Yeah, but not a medical one.”

Bucky lets out something akin to a growl and a groan. “What's the time?”

“Like eight thirty?”

“What’s the time,” he emphasises, because he most definitely had another email due from another lady on the internet who he had sent his cards to a few hours ago. 

“Fine, it’s eight twenty two,” you shoot back.  “Did that make a big difference?”

“Yeah, it did actually,” he fires indignantly, “My life is radically different. You have no way of knowing.”

“Liar. You’re a lying liar, who lies.” You scoff. “And details are for losers.”

“Losers can drive all the way back to drop you off at the infirmary and let them deal with you.”

You relent, flashing him a grin. “This won’t take long.”

“You say this every fuckin’ time,” he groans, before complying and taking a u-turn anyway.

“You’re fucking joking,” he states. 

“No, it’s actually called lying,” you correct casually.  

“Is this an abandoned hospital? What the fuck?” Bucky asks, staring up at the huge decaying building.  

The outside looks run-down, with cracked, weathered brick walls and broken windows. The entrance is blocked off with rusted gates, some sections of which have fallen over. As the car rolls up, the air is thick with a musty, damp smell, mixed with a faint odor of decay.

“Yes,” you say simply, opening the trunk of the car and pulling out all the supplies you had from last time. “Video time. Let’s go.”

“You didn’t have to lie,” Bucky mumbles. “I’d have showed up.”

You give him a deadpan look. “You famously never do.”

That’s fair, but also, that was the old Bucky. The new Bucky circa this week is a bit more… invested. He feels the need to gather some more information, and unfortunately, the only opportunity to do that is here.

So for the time being, he decides he will hang on. For purely selfish reasons. 

“Just tell me next time,” he grunts. 

You observe him for a second like you're about to call him out on something, but instead you simply say, “Okay.”

Bucky grabs his usual stuff– the spirit box, a lapel mic, while you levitate the camera. 

“Hello?”

You both look beyond the camera at the same time to someone stalking up to you.

“Who’s there?” demands a middle aged woman with straw blonde hair, wrinkles decorating sunburnt skin, and a navy blue jacket. 

“Uh–”

“Who are you?” she asks, cautiously stopping a few feet away.  

“We’re here on a video shoot,” you inform. “Just wanted to check the place out.”

“Oh, you’re one of them camera folk,” she says, ponting her flashlight at you. “Those ghost hutner types.”

“That’s us,” you agree, flinching from the bright light. “We're from The Graveyard Shift.”

“Who are you?” Bucky cuts in, because why should only the both of you explain. 

“I’ve been working security here for the last thirty years.” She shines her flashlight at the musty place. “Name’s Brenda.”

“Why does an abandoned hospital need a security guard?” Bucky inquires. 

“Management just underwent a shift. White collars are setting up a mall here, so they bought up the whole place, fired everyone and now they’re gonna build an all year ski world or something in there.” There’s a tick in her jaw as she draws it out. “Whole damn place is cursed. They better hope it only burns down.”

“Okay,” you drag out, giving Bucky a sideways glance. “Anyway, we’re gonna go check out the place. See if we can find some ghosts.”

“Oh, you’ll see ‘em, alright. Everyone who was collateral damage in the buyout is still in there.” Her voice is distant, arm coming to rest on her hip.  “You’ll have to hit up specific rooms. Y’all got a floorplan?”

“No, figured we’d just wing it.” You pause. “Hospital wing it.”

“Shut up,” Bucky replies on instinct. 

“You’re gonna be spending a lot of time in there if y’all dont know where youre’ heading. It’s a maze,” she continues, ignoring your brilliant joke. “I can show you the rooms, but I can’t guarantee that it has ghosts in there.”  

“Uhhh—” you begin. 

“It’ll cut down your time in half.”

“Deal,” Bucky says immediately, sticking out his hand for a shake.

Brenda sticks out her hand too, only to wince immediately, following it up with a curse.

“What’s wrong?” you interject.

“Damn back’s killing me,” she mutters. “You’d think death would stop the pain, but it’s not let up yet. Come on then.”

Both of your eyebrows knit together at her statement, but she leaves no room for a reply as she marches inward, one hand on the small of her spine. 

Bucky elects to use his phone flashlight, as if he keeps that shit charged above 40% at any given point of time. If anything is not going to make it out of the night alive, it was that thing. 

The air inside is stale and heavy, filled with the scent of mildew and old, rusted metal. All three of your footsteps echo in the silence, reverberating through empty halls with each cautious step. The moonlight  in conjunction with the flashlight casts long, unsettling shadows. The faint taste of dust lingers in the back of Bucky’s throat that he cannot get rid of. 

“Y’all gonna sleep in here tonight?” Brenda pipes up, swinging her flashlight around.

You look at Bucky with a grin that’s alarming.

His face immediately pulls into one of “What the fuck”

“No, we aren’t,” you announce instead. “But do people do that often?”

“You’d be surprised,” she comments. “You’re not the first folks we’ve had here with those fancy shmancy gadgets.”

“That explains how you have a tour all planned.” 

“We get a bunch of you every couple of months.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Bucky cuts in.

She pays him no need. “Y’all run a podcast?”

Bucky looks personally affronted. “No, we do not.”

“We run a YouTube channel,” you offer instead. “It’s for ghosts and stuff.”

“I see,” she considers, tone thoughtful. “So, this will go up online?” 

“Unfortunately,” Bucky murmurs.

“Have you caught ghosts before?”

“Not even one–”

“Several,” you chirp. “And we have a witch cat. Her name’s Alpine.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. “Since when is her name Alpine?”

“I gave her a bunch of options and she told me she liked that best.”

“The cat can’t talk.”

“To you. She and I chat shit everyday,” you dish back. “She hates that stupid fern in your room, she says it smells.”

That fucking fern was not even his idea. But Sam got it for him when he moved in, so there was a zero percent chance it would be leaving any time soon. 

“Tell her to fuck off.”

“Y’all got a large following?” Brenda interrupts.

“Building towards it.” You look at her before looking at Bucky. “Once we hit a sizable amount and Bucky becomes an official internet boyfriend, we’ll stop the series.”

He sends you a withering look. “We’ll be doing this till I die.”

“Nonsense, everyone loves you,” you dismiss. “You’re a pretty boy and extremely irritable. They think you’re hilarious.”

 His nose twitches, and he feels the need to clear his throat. 

“Your camera records ghosts?” Brenda asks again. 

“We’ve got a bunch of devices. We’ll catch it,” you sound confident. 

“Great, because here’s the first stop,” she says, pressing her shoulder onto a double door.

The door groans as she pushes, its hinges protesting with a long, rusty screech, the cold metal heavy under her hand. A stale gust of air hits your face, carrying the faint smell of rot as the door finally gives way.

She steps back with a small huff, stretching her back with a small, “Shit.”

The pale blue walls had turned greenish, wallpaper peeling away. Counters were covered with a thin layer of dust. Old tools laid unused on the surgical table, once stainless steel but now rusted. 

“A lotta deaths happened in this operating theatre,” she imparts after a bout of stretching. “They thought this place was cursed for a while.” 

The sterile, tiled walls are cracked and chipped, and the old surgical lights hang dim, their bulbs long burned out. The air still lingers with antiseptic that’s long since turned sour.

Bucky feels a little too acquainted with this setting. 

He doesn’t even realise his silence is palpable until you nudge his side, drawing his attention sharply back to you. 

“You doin’ okay?” you whisper.  

“Fine,” he says, tearing his eyes away from the tools and towards you.

It only twists his stomach a little. It makes him think of how different his reactions used to be even a few years go. 

“Old, dingy hospitals may not have been the best idea,” you admit to him, using the flashlight to shine a light in the corner. 

It occurs to him a second later once he forces himself to compartmentalise. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice low. 

“Yeah,” you reply, slowly looking around. “Just looks like my nursery.”

A small crease forms between his eyebrows. 

“Not gonna lie, mine was way prettier. Lot more mould on the walls,” you continue, tone light. “You know, timeless decor.”

His nose lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh. “Leviathan not into blood stain wallpaper?”

“Couldn’t afford it. Fuckin’ place kept referring to itself as Hydra’s sister org but had none of the budget,” you say, swiping a finger across the dust. “You’d think that at least some of the people that left would give alumni donations, but no.”

Bucky snickers at jokes literally no one else would laugh at. It feels good for once, not to feel the need to censor himself to make others less uncomfortable. 

You take a step forward, camera following behind you. 

You shine the flashlight around the room, noting all the surgical trays piled together. 

But something flashes on the ceiling. 

You swing your flashlight toward it immediately, only for the table beside you a few inches away to start rolling, making a loud whining noise as it did, snapping your attention towards it.  

By the time you finally bring the light back up towards the ceiling, it’s gone. 

“What the–” you mumble. 

“What?” Bucky asks, looking up from where he was scrolling through his phone. 

“Could’a sworn I saw–” you frown at the empty space now, only an old defunct looking camera staring back at you. 

“Red eyes?” Brenda inquires, looking at you. “Yeah, that happens.”

Bucky glances up at you, and then the wall. “Probably just the lens glare.”

You scrunch up your face at her. “How’d you know it was red eyes?” 

“That’d be the spirit of ol’ Doctor Damon, chief of neuro,” she says. “You’ll find him here or his cabin, but that’s a few floors away. He never liked climbing the stairs.” 

“Right,” Bucky acknowledges monotonously. 

“When he worked here, he spent so long in surgery that his eyes were always bloodshot. One day he just dropped dead from exhaustion,” Brenda explains. “So his spirit walks around here, red eyes, wheeling surgery tables waiting for the next patient.”

“What’s he doing on the ceiling?” Bucky questions, going back to his phone. “He did his surgeries suspended midair?” 

“Are you trying to gatekeep the ceiling?” you scoff. “Have you never seen Spiderman hanging upside down for fun?” 

Bucky finally lifts his sight from the phone. “The doctor is not an insect superhero, he would have no reason to be hanging upside down–”

“How would you know if he’s a superhero or not? What if he was bitten by a bat?” you challenge. “Like a bat…guy. Batman.”

He jeers. “Then he’s got a stupid codename.”

“Oh, and Captain America is poetic genius.”

“At least Sam has a codename, where’s yours?” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe you should have paid attention when your mother was screaming it las-”

“Shall we move on?” Brenda asks calmly. 

“Yes,” the both of you reply simultaneously. 

She doesn’t even bother looking at you, almost as if she’d seen it all in her lifetime. 

“Besides, sometimes you can see him sitting on one of the operating tables. He doesn’t just hang out on the ceiling like… bat…man,” she explains, leading the way back out. 

“See?” 

“See what?” you ask. 

“Nothing,” he replies. “There’s nothing to see. That’s the fuckin’ point.”

You shove him lightly. 

Bucky bites back a grin.

_____

The morgue is silent. 

The ceiling is low and chipped, streaked with stains of old water damage, the paint fallen away in patches. 

Against one wall, old, disused morgue drawers stand open and half-broken, the once-sleek stainless steel now speckled with rust. Some of the drawers are bent out of shape, while others are stuck, sealed tight from years of neglect. Inside some of the open drawers, tattered, yellowed tags hang loosely from the handles, swaying gently as the chill air moves through the room.

“This room’s self explanatory,” she says. “Sometimes, you can hear spirits still trying to claw their way out of the drawers but they never open.”

“Skill issue,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“Shut up, oh my God,” you whisper-yell, still mouth pulling into a thin line to stop from laughing. 

“What?” Brenda asks, suddenly from near the drawers. 

You had no idea when she even went there. 

“Nothing,” you reply, before thoughtfully asking, “Bucky, truth or dare?”

“No.”

“Dare it is.” You shine a flashlight at one of the closed drawers. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you get in one of them for a few seconds. Let’s see if the ghosts come at you.”

“You're deranged,” he replies, incredulous. 

“It’s for science,” you insist. “How else will you know for sure?”

“I’m sure it’ll be comfortable,” Brenda quips. “Like a coffin.”

The both of you look at her together in silence.

She shrugs. “It’s what I’ve heard from them.” 

You look at her for a second more, before turning to Bucky. “Anyway, if you want I’ll come lie in there with you.”

“How does that make it better?” he exclaims. “I am not lying in the morgue.”

“Even if I’m in there with you?”

“That’s even worse–”

There’s a loud knock from one of the drawers on Brenda’s side. She looks down at it, almost like she was expecting it. Soon, there are further loud thuds that come from inside the remaining drawers. 

“Hey, Magda,” she calls, before more knocks come from inside. “You’ve got visitors. Say hello.”

You grab the spirit box from behind Bucky’s ear and hold it in the direction of the wall. Nothing registers.

“Animals,” he answers the question hanging in the air calmly. 

“The spirits?” Brenda replies. “They’re not gonna like that.”

Sure enough, a few of the drawers start rattling on their own accord.

You look at Bucky with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” he carps. “I’m not gonna go lie down in there, if that’s what you want.”

“Come on, take one for the team,” you whine. 

“You take one for the team.” 

“I’m literally the one pulling all the weight around here. You do it.”

Bucky doesn’t agree with you on the last part, but the first one is undisputably right. He makes a mental note to start contributing a fuckton more if he plans on continuing on in the series. 

The rattling around comes to a halt eventually. 

“If none of you want to get in there, should we move to the next one?” Brenda points to the door. 

“Yes, please,” you confirm, sending Bucky a glare.

She leads the way up the stairs while you both follow, bickering and shoving lightly.

Once upstairs, Bucky glances down the hall, only to  see a large double door that is noticeably different from the rest you’ve seen so far. There’s a fading rainbow drawn on the front, little footsteps painted onto the floor leading towards it.

Bucky hesitates, steps faltering. “Is that the children’s ward?”

“Yes,” Brenda looks over her shoulder briefly. 

For a second, he wonders. Whether it was worth a shot. He hadn’t heard from her since the incident at the house, and the tarot cards have been suggesting nothing but reasons to believe she may actually be there.  

“Are we going to check that out?” he asks. 

“No, there’s nothing there,” she shrugs it off. “No spirits. I’ve asked the others too.” 

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. “Are you sure?”

You shoot him an odd look that he refuses to meet. 

“Yep. Next stop’s the other way.”

Bucky spares the doors another long look, before traversing down the hallway with you. 

“Why do you wanna go to the children’s ward?” you query, voice low. 

“Just thought it was worth checking out,” he replies, voice steady.  

“We can always make a run for it and go check.”

“No,” he says, giving you a curt shake of his head, “it’s alright.”

“We’re right down this way,” Brenda calls, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.

“Coming!” you call back before spinning to Bucky. “Hey.”

“What?” he responds, moving at his own brisk pace. 

You tug him back with you with force. 

“What are you doing–’ he hisses.

You link your arm with Bucky’s, pulling him along with you as you walk, shutting him up. He eyes your elbow looped with his and the proximity with which you walked beside him and all of a sudden, the back of his neck feels quite warm, extending down to his chest.

“I think Brenda’s a ghost,” you tell him casually.

Bucky stops in his path, drawn very much back to reality. 

“Keep walking,” you grit through a smile. “I’m pretty sure she’s dead. Why else is she totally chill with the ghosts here-”

“Because there aren’t any. It’s animals.”

“Why is she saying coffins are comfortable? Why is she talking to the ghosts and knowing exactly where they are and aren’t?”

“I can make shit up too, look,” Bucky comments enthusiastically. “Oh, down the hall is the isolation room. You’ll hear heavy breathing because that’s where the tuberculosis patients were–”

“That’s one of the isolation rooms,” Brenda’s voice echoes down the hall. “It’s next up.”

You yank your arm away from Bucky when he blinks, a bit surprised himself. 

“Are you dead?” you whisper-yell.

“Only ‘cause the government declared it,” he sighs. “Do you know what a fuckin’ pain it is to get undead.” 

“Come on.” Brenda beckons to the both of you with her flashlight. 

With a slight shove, the door to the room swings open easily, but the smell of old paper and mildew floods your senses. 

The bed is now a rusted, sagging frame, the thin mattress long since torn and discolored with age. The once-clean sheets have yellowed and frayed, with remnants of old stains. Thin, brittle blankets lie in a heap on the floor.

The walls are bare, save for a few faded medical charts and broken instruments that were left behind in haste. The small window that once offered a faint glimpse of the outside is now cracked and filthy. The weak, filtered light that struggles through the dust-covered glass barely illuminates the room. 

“Patients who were highly contagious were quarantined here. Some of them died without family by their side, so you can still hear their cries. Some of them have problems breathing, so sometimes you’ll hear it through the vents,” Brenda explains. 

“I bet,” Bucky drags out, sending you a “I fuckin’ told you so” look.. 

Down the hall, something makes a loud sound, almost like something had crashed into the floor. 

All three of you turn towards it. 

Brenda’s face flickers for a moment before turning back to its regular calm. 

“I think someone’s angry,” she decides. “I’m gonna go check it out.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” you offer.

“I’ll be okay, I’ve known these people all my life. We’re friends,” she comforts. “Oh, sometimes if you look out the door, you’ll see shadows of people in the waiting room down the hall. They’re just old families lingering around, hoping for better results but they always leave upset.”

“Is there no way to get them out of here?” you ask.

She shrugs. “Unless you find a way to fix their disappointment, I doubt they'll leave. They’ll stick around until something improves or changes.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at the implication. If that were truly the case, and not just something he concocted in the deep, self hating crevices of his mind, then he had to figure out which part of the fucked up mess that he was had pissed his sister off enough to come back to let him know she was disappointed. 

You nod at her and she nods, spinning on her heel to exit the room, but not before she stops for a second, hand on the doorframe as she catches her breath, and one hand on her spine.

“Are you okay?” you sound genuinely concerned.

She flashes you a thumbs up, leaving without so much as another word. 

“She’s gonna come back with some bullshit about the hospital canteen staff dropping their pans or some shit,” Bucky remarks.

“Yeah no, that was me. I just wanted her out of the room so we could discuss something,” you wave it off quickly. 

Bucky stares at you.

“What? I dropped a cart. It’s not a big deal. Anyway, listen–”

“She’s not a ghost,” he states resolutely.  

“But what if she is,” you insist, a wicked grin on your face. “Imagine saying we got a ghost tour. By a ghost.”

“I can imagine saying that, yes. I have a very wide and limitless imagination.” 

“Ugh, what if we’re meant to help her find her way back?” You peer over his shoulder to see if she’s walking back. 

In the distance another crash sounds through the empty hallways. Bucky stares at you.

“I’m just making sure, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone” you insist, dismissing it. 

“You could've just closed the door,” he says, extending one hand behind him to slide it closed.

“Don’t do that,” you blurt out.

He stops, eyebrow raised.  

“I don't like when doors are closed,” you shrug it off. “Anyway, back to the point. We should totally figure out how to help her exit this realm.”

He slides the door back open slowly, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“EVen if she were a ghost, which she’s not– she seems happy here. Maybe,” Bucky comments, taking a seat on the worn out bed. “I can’t really tell.”

“She can’t be. Imagine being forced to roam the same hallways over and over again till the end of time.” you shudder. “Sounds miserable.”

Bucky shrugs, poking at the pillow, watching a cloud of dust fly up from it. “Routine sounds fine to me.”

“I’d hate it,” you counter immediately. “I hate routines. Fucking inescapable once you get stuck in one.”

Bucky watches you curiously as you shift up and down the small room. “How do you get anything done?” 

“I can get things done without a routine.” The camera follows your command, checking outside the window or the door occasionally facing Bucky. “Why?”

“Just asking,” he replies, checking the time on his phone. It’d been a while since Brenda had gone to investigate.

“And having a routine totally makes you an easy target. Haven’t you watched any assassination movies?”

“No. I didn’t like bringing work home.”

You look at him in surprise before your face splits into a smile. 

Something makes a noise from the wall adjacent to the door. 

You both look at each other, and he gets off the bed to go see what the deal is. The door is adjacent to the wall, giving him a clear look into the hallway that was still empty. 

A faint wail sounds through the vent above his head. You take quick steps towards where he was, and the camera follows suit, pointing at the grill on the wall.

You stand underneath it, spirit box raised as close as you could get it, but the damn thing picks up nothing. 

Another noise comes through, almost like someone was wheezing, before the vent rattles, stopping altogether.

You stare at it, before taking a gigantic inhale and exhaling obnoxiously, forcing all the air out of your lungs with a wheeze. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bucky stares at you like you're insane. 

“Well, you can’t just back down,” you argue. “I’m gonna breathe louder than that thing.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.

You give another gigantic inhale and exhale, rattling all the bones in your body, and the faint noise from the vent stops too. 

“We win,” you beam 

 “You’ve completely lost it.”

“Uh, no, I didn’t. I totally won.”

“That’s not what I–” Bucky starts but stops himself when you grin at him devilishly. 

He sighs, asking instead, “Should we go looking for her?” 

“I guess so,” you shrug. “We’re not exactly cut to be her saviours right now. I’m pretty sure she knows the layout of the hospital better than we do if she’s been haunting it for fifteen years.”

“Where did you get that number?” he demands. 

“Does it matter?” you urge. “Didn’t realise you’re a valid ghost only if you have a certain number of years in haunting.”

Bucky ignores you, taking off down the hall. 

“If you had to haunt a hospital or a ship, what would you choose?” you quip, matching his pace. 

“Hospital,” he answers without thinking much.

“Why?”

“I spent a lot of time in them,” he tells you, voice clear. “Steve’s mom was a nurse. We’d meet her there a lot when he got his ribs broken or his nose busted.”

The memory, though faint, is enough to pull a smile from him. 

“He also used to be sick a lot, so I used to come pick up his medicine for him,” he adds. “They used to know us by name because we’d be there nearly every second day.”

You exhale a small laugh. “Every hospital in the state of New York has a chart for Steve even now.”

“Fuckin’ guy just dosn’t learn.” Bucky shakes his head with affection-laced irritation. 

The hallways stretch out endlessly, dim and wide. A few doors line the walls, some ajar, revealing only darkness inside. The silence is unnerving, broken only by the soft sound of you and your footsteps.

Bucky looks over at you. “What about you?”

“What about me?” you hum, small smile still on your face. 

“What would you haunt?

“Ship, I guess,” you reply. “I’ve always wanted to be a pirate.”

“Should be your next job.”

“You gonna come with? We’ll turn it into a vlog.

“Fuck no.”

“Well, thanks for taking the time to really consider it,” you sing, not really offended. “Way to let me down gently, Barnes.”  

“What? It’s got nothin’ to do with you.” Bucky clarifies still, pausing before letting out, “I get seasick. Can’t be on water for more than five minutes before I’m throwing up all over the place. You want that in your vlog?”

It’s enough to elicit a laugh from you, that in turn makes the corner of his lip curl.

“We could always–

Right in front of him, something moves darts across the wall at the end of the hall.

It cuts you off mid-sentence too, the both of you glancing at each other before turning towards it again.

Against the glare of your flashlight, another shadow darts across the wall. 

“That’s what she was talking about,” you whisper, slightly in disbelief that she wasn't wrong. “Shadow people. Do you think they got to her?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, continuing to walk on ahead. 

“Um, hello?” you scramble to catch up with him. “Where is your self preservation?”

“Against what?” he asks stoically. 

“That,” you say pointedly at the wall, when another figure darts across the wall and disappears out of sight. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s a shadow, the fuck’s it gonna do?”

“Haven’t you heard of shadow demons? Succumbing to darkness?” you chastise. 

Bucky stops walking, standing solidly in the middle of the hallway.

“Okay,” he says, refusing to budge. 

The hall goes silent, no movement other than the steady rise and falls of your chest. 

You stare at him. “Now what.”

“I'm waiting for them to do something,” he says. “I’m waiting to succumb to the darkness.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you bite, dragging him along with you. “And I’m tired, we’ve been walking for like, eight hundred hours. Let’s go.”

“We’ve been here for two hours,” he reminds you, taking a turn into the corner that the shadows disappeared into. “You did this to yourself.”

“Fine, next time I’ll bring an electric scooter with me.” You huff. “And I won’t even let you use it.”

“Where’d Brenda fuckin’ go?” Bucky mumbles, eyes squinting into the darkness to see if there are any clues.

“Where are you guys going?” Someone pipes up from behind you, sending the hairs on his neck up. 

The both of you spin around instantly, arms clenched in a fighting stance. 

“Sorry, it's a habit to take the scenic route back.” She chuckles, unfazed. “Not a lot to do when you’ve been here so long.”

The both of you lower your hands slowly, letting out an exhale.

“Y’all ready to head out?” she inquires, coolly. “I think it’s time we all get some rest.” 

The walk back is relatively quicker, ater she leads you down a path she calls a shortcut. 

The only thing that slowls you down are the occasional stops you had to make for her back ache.

Right by the entrance of the hospital, she holds onto the door frame again in the midst of explaining who was haunting the basements. 

After a particularly hard exhale and a clamour to stand back up, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat to ask, “Have you tried this stretch?”

“What?” Brenda asks, eyes curious. 

“Learnt it in physio. Doesn’t cure it, but it helps,” he explains, craning his neck to the sides, before taking a step ahead towards her.  

You watch him in thinly veiled delight as he shows her exactly what joint to bend and in which angle, and the degree to which she had to pivot.

He even uncomfortably guides her shoulders in the strangest yoga session you’d ever witnessed. 

“Should help,” Bucky mumbles, taking a step away. 

She raises her shoulders and drops it, lips pursuing and bows raising in a look that seems impressed. The small hunch she carried wit her seems to have disappeared too. 

“Let’s go,” Bucky doesn’t wait for a thanks or anything, taking a step away from her and towards the exit. 

“Now that you’ve fixed her back ache, how do we fix her haunting the place?” you ask lowly. 

“She’s not a fuckin’ ghost, she’s fine,” he whispers back. 

“Nothing about what she’s said tonight is normal,” you argue.

The night is clear and cool when you step out, the musty scent of the building dissipating almost immediately.

“Just say bye, we’re fuckin’ leaving,” Bucky shoots. 

You sigh loudly, giving him a glare at his lack of helpfulness before plastering a smile on your face and turning around. 

“Well, thanks for everything, Brenda,” you say, turning around to stick your hand out. “We sure couldn’t have–”

But she’s gone.

“Holy shit,” you say. 

Bucky looks over his shoulder at the disturbance, before turning around fully. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I told you she was a ghost,” you gush. “You fixed her back ache and now she has crossed over to the other side.”

“Shut up,” he replies, looking all over the place for a sign of where she could have disappeared to. 

“You did it, Bucky, you helped a lonely spirit,” you cheer. 

“I did not.”

“Hey!” Someone shouts from afar, commanding your attention to the gate again. 

“Not again,” Bucky mumbles, eyes snapping shut. 

“More ghosts,” you point out excitedly. “Come on, Charon, ferry those spirits–”

“You ferry your own spirits, I’m going to sleep,” he interjects, fully intending on ignoring the person at the gate and simply getting in the car.

“What are you guys doing here?” A man pants, jogging up to the both of you before Bucky had the time to leave. 

“We were just taking a look around,” you say, sticking your hand out, much to Bucky’s displeasure. “We heard the place was haunted.”

“Ah, I see,” he replies, taking in your appearance. “Podcasters?”

“No,” Bucky replies instantly. 

“We were just leaving,” you cut in. “We already got a tour by this ghost, and Bucky totally sent her to the afterlife.”

“I did not,” he seethes. 

“She disappeared after saying ominous shit this entire evening, what do you call that?” you challenge. 

“Going home,” Bucky responds, frustrated that he was clearly not afforded the same privilege.  

“Uh–” the guy holds up his finger. “--not to intrude, but you got a tour by a ghost?”

“Yes,” you bubble over with excitement. 

“And this ghost… did they have a backache?”

Bucky’s interest piques, the irritation giving way to intrigue . 

“You know her?” you puzzle.

“Uh yeah, that’s Brenda,” he admits sheepishly. “She’s very much alive.”

Bucky would have sworn he had never been this elated in his life, but unfortunately he realises very quickly that he simply does not care.  

 “She said she was a security guard here– wait, who are you?”  you tilt your head at him, seemingly not upset at all. It reduces Bucky’s non-existent triumph even more. 

“Travis Dowell, Labyrinth Inc. representative,” he says, shaking your hand. “We’re–”

“--the company that bought the place,” you complete, eyebrow raised.  

“Yeah.” He nods. “Brenda was a security guard here for nearly thirty years. We had to let go of her when we bought the hospital. We’ve been trying to turn it into an apartment for years, but there’s a lot of red tape that we have to get past because of healthcare reasons.”

“Yeah, she told us that it got bought,” you follow along. 

“Hospital was in the worst financial situation possible. There was just no way out.” He shrugs. “But she was super attached to this place. She didn’t take the redevelopment plans well, so she’s taken it upon herself to make sure it never happens, I guess? I don’t know, she spends a lot of time here convincing people that it’s haunted so that people don’t build anything here. She’s got an apartment close by so she knows when someone’s around. You’ll probably find her there, if you want.”

“You guys know about her?” Bucky questions, crease between his eyebrows.

“Uh, yeah, we do,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We sorta ignore her. Her schtick’s annoying, but it’s not the reason we haven’t demolished this place yet. Once all the zoning issues get cleared up, the building’s coming down. And besides, all the PR’s just gonna have people pay a shit ton to stay here. You know, novelty of it being haunted, and all that.” 

“How’d you know we were here?” you ask pointedly. 

“We’ve set up motion sensors in the place?” he replies. “You may have seen them. The red lights in the operation rooms. We know she takes people there.”

“Oh, that’s what that was,” you turn to Bucky who simply shakes his head lightly. 

“Yeah, she really goes the extra mile.” Travis shifts from one leg to the other. “There’s raccoons in the morgue that start running around if she hits the door. What else… oh yeah, she’s made a hole in one of the isolation rooms to make noises through the wall.”

Bucky wonders what will happen of all the footage now that none of it was essentially real. It made sense why she kept trying to find out where the video was going to be posted and how many people were going to view it now, as if a large number of views were going to save her beloved building. 

“So you’ll just let her do whatever until the demolition happens?” you question. 

“If it gets her to stop vandalising our office downtown.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t make a difference to us either way.”

“Right. So the real horror…” you say. “...is capitalism.”

Travis stares at you, before raising and dropping his shoulders. “Sure.”

“Alright.” You blow out an exhale. “Well, was anything about tonight real?”

“I mean, she really does have back pain,” he adds helpfully.

You turn to Bucky. “Net positive, then.”

Sure. Why the fuck not.

“Okay, Travis, thanks for this. You’ve been an immense help,” you say aloud, hoisting the camera onto your shoulders. “You can watch us on The Graveyard Shift, if we can figure out what to do with all these videos now.”

“Sorry about that,” he replies, shoving his fists into his pocket. “Good night.”

You watch as he turns and jogs away to his car that was parked a bit closer to the gate than yours was. 

Bucky plucks the camera off your shoulder and places it under his arm, even though he’s well aware you can carry fifteen of them at once.

“That was fun,” you tell him, seemingly over it already. 

“I’m fuckin’ starving,” he replies. 

Bucky should be glad then, that he didn’t bother with the children’s ward, if nothing about tonight was real–

“Travis, wait,” you shout all of a sudden. “What about the shadows?” 

“What shadows?” he calls back, confused. 

“The shadow people moving across the hall from the isolation room?”

He raises his eyebrows. “We haven't heard reports of that.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky mumbles.

“Hell yeah,” you reply, knocking into his shoulder. “Haunted hospital, baby.”

When you walk into the dining room, you don’t really expect anyone to be there that late at night.

But fiery red hair pulled into a ponytail and an oversized t-shirt perched at the kitchen counter catches you off guard, dulling the arguing between you and Bucky as you argue the logistics of Brenda having a hand in the shadow demons. 

“Took you guys long enough,” Nat keeps her mug down on the counter before hopping off the chair. You note that it’s the same one you got her a few weeks ago from the flea market, the blue ceramic one.

“Oh, hi!” you smile wide, when she pulls you into a hug. “I thought you were in Lagos.”

“I was,” she replies, pulling away. “Got done early.”

“Of course you did. Overachiever.”

In the end of the common room, Bucky can hear the faint sounds of late night infomercials play through the TV. Clint’s legs hung off the couch as he lay snoring in front of it, blanket dropped on the floor in a heap. 

“Hot chocolate?” she offers. 

“I’m good, we went to the drive-through before coming back.” You beckon with your shoulder towards Bucky. 

She finally turns to him. “Hey.”

Bucky gives her a curt nod, glad that she’s back safe. 

“Why were you out so late?” She gives him a onceover, before raising an eyebrow. “Together.”

“Hospital date.”

“Video shoot,” he says at the same time, glaring at you. You shrug. 

Nat’s lip trails up into a smirk. “Put on your big boy pants and finally admit your crush?”

Bucky drags a palm down his face. “I do not have a crush.”

“If you say so,” she concedes innocently, eyeing him over the rim of her hot chocolate.  

“Are you all in on this? Do you have a quota to reach?” he groans. “Why’s everyone asking me this?”

“Who is ‘everyone’?” you sound delighted. 

“If you don’t want people to call you out on our shit, maybe don’t walk around with heart eyes,” Nat comments.  

Buck’s look is ice cold, but Nat just gives him a wink when you laugh. 

“Hey, I needed to talk to you about something.” She turns to you. “You free for a second?”

“Always,” you reply in earnest. 

Nat leads you a few steps away, hand on your shoulder.  

Bucky takes his seat at the counter, stealing a sip from Nat’s mug. Of course, it was fantastic. Overachiever.

He tunes out intentionally, focusing on the fact that Clint was splayed out on the couch with the TV on a low volume. He knows for a fact the blonde was asleep, and probably would wake up with the worst neck pain in his life, but this was the life he chose.

After watching Clint nearly fall off the couch twice, he looks away, not intending on prying on your conversation but vaguely watching the interaction out of the corner of his eye.

He frowns at what he sees. Nat’s face has turned solemn while she talks to you in hushed tones. Your eyebrows were pulled together, arms crossed over your chest. 

Bucky feels a shift in the air, but he’s not sure what exactly has gone down. 

Nat finally tells you something surely, and you nod. She cups the side of your face and you force out a smile at her, before her hand drops.

The both of you make your way back to him. He turns his gaze back to the counter. 

“You owe me a hot chocolate,” Nat tells him, before giving him a quick kiss on the temple and stealing her cup right back. 

“I barely drank any,” he retorts, eyes still trained on you.

The TV clicks off and she drags a half asleep Clint back down the hall to his bedroom while the man rubbed at his shoulders, trailing behind her obediently. 

Meanwhile, you grab a glass of water from the tap, drinking it slowly as you head towards the elevator.

“G’night, Buck,” you tell him, passing by him.

“Hold on,” he says, voice less gruff than before as he watches you, face tight, “What’s going on?

You observe him for a few long seconds, but he gets the sense you aren’t exactly looking at him. Your eyes are slightly glazed over, and your mind is… elsewhere. 

“What do you do when people refuse to let go of something you’ve already escaped?” you ask finally.  

“What do you mean?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together tighter.  

“Do you feel like everyone’s eyes are on you?” you say, voice strange. “Like there’s nowhere to go?”

“Where is this coming from? What’d Nat tell you?”

It seems to snap you out of whatever funk you were in, at least partially. “It’s probably nothing.”

His frown only deepens. “Is someone threatening you?”

“No, nothing like that.” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s gonna be fine.” 

Bucky stares after you as you press the button to the elevator. He isn’t really sure what to make of the what you just shared. He isn’t even sure he should ask Nat about it later on considering that she didn’t want him listening in now. 

He watches the light above the elevator light up before a ding sounds through. 

“Just so you know–”  

Bucky’s eyes snap back to you, one step in the elevator. 

“I had a codename, too,” you tell him. “I just never liked it.”

Bucky is only left staring as you disappear into the elevator, leaving him in silence. 

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[itsmespicaa]

Could you recommend lambo twins fanfics? Specifically ones that are sunstreaker centric? Sunstreaker barely appears in media and ppl barely write about him and I neeeed sunstreaker content to consume

Oh boy...here we go *cracks knuckles* there's quite a few (not as many as other chars obviously), but I tried my best to link the ones that I really enjoyed and recommend you read too!

I'll try to sort them into categories, and I'll also tag the Sunstreaker-centric ones with * and the twins-centric one ** for easy perusal :) Sideswipe-centric will have no stars, but I still recommend you to read them anyway bc they're really good (and Sunny is there most of the times)! Starting with—

My Top 6:

Misaligned Gemini by Anonymous**

This one's a classic. Set in IDW 2019 (or IDW 2) where the twins have a completely different origin, this one takes you for such a crazy ride from start to finish and will have you holding on for dear life. I definitely cried a lot reading this lol it's that good. Easily one of the best Lambo twins-centric fics out there (and the longest one too to date).

Lifeline by Kattli (Kathrine)*

Set in the IDW-verse. One of my personal favorites as well as my fav interpretation of the twins' messy and complicated relationship in IDW. Canon-divergence in the best way possible.

Sideswipe's Secret Vacation Spot by BalloonArcade**

AU where the twins actually joined the Cons (one of my fav AUs for sure). Has by far my FAVORITE interpretation of Sunstreaker and one that definitely affected my own take of his character. The twins' dynamic here is *chef's kiss* so good. I adore them so much here.

No Rest for the Wicked by fuzipenguin*

Absolutely delectable 6k joyride with Sunstreaker pretty much murdering his way out of the enemy's base like the utterly ruthless warrior that he is <3 you love to see it!!!!

Snap, Crackle, Pop by SergeantCookie

I was so pleasantly surprised by how amazingly-written this fic was??? Like- the blend of comedy and realism feels so natural especially from Sideswipe's POV. Definitely one of my fav Sides-centric fics, and the other characters are an absolute hoot LOL it's so SO good from start to finish.

Followers by Bibliotecaria_D**

This one...completely caught me off-guard. An utterly different take of the twins' relationship in IDW (and in general, really) that I needed a whole day to digest what I just read because it was just- so raw and real and painful, but I think that's the beauty of it. Might not be everyone's cup of tea tho so here's my warning (bc the writer isn't a fan of fanon!Lambo twins), but I still recommend people (esp their fans) to read it to see a different perspective of the twins' dynamic.

Others, also really good:

and when i got to st peter's gate, i told the keeper that i'm not the one who needs to make amends by rosesscythes

IDW again, this time from Sideswipe's perspective before he died. It healed something in me to read this, so maybe it might heal you too :")

Little Brother by pipermca*

Another IDW fic, this time from Sunstreaker's POV post-canon. Another cathartic fic that feels like a balm after what happened in canon.

Poker Face by SSSSEEEEVVVVEEEENNNN*

A deep dive into Sunstreaker's psyche in the face of Smokescreen and it's so. SO good omg. You can see everything play out in real time from Sunstreaker's POV while at the same time you can tell he's so unreliable and so, so bad at social cues that it was painful to watch. But everything is from HIS view so he MUST be right...right?

Unorthodox Protection by FiftyShadesOfMetal

Another one of Sideswipe's shenanigans that...went a bit more south that he intended? Sunstreaker cameos a bit later but the true star of the show is the human inside of Sideswipe-- wait what?!

Loyalty by BalloonArcade

Prowl/Sideswipe with a substantial focus on the twins' relationship in IDW on the side. I really liked this take of the twins and what made them that way here.

Sunshine, Roses, & Other Treacherous Things by jukeboxes**

Incomplete but the first 3 chapters are so compelling that you can't help but desperately want to know how it ends.

Crack(ed) Me Up by Kattli (Kathrine)**

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are unfortunately stuck with the bots they try to kill the most...whoops. Really funny and you get to enjoy seeing their (mostly Sunny's) suffering

In the Dust by Hours_Gone_By

Msytery fic, spooky-tastic. The twins aren't the sole focus here, but the fic is so good that you'd be too invested in what's happening to notice (or if you're like me, you do notice every time they interact but it won't detract from the story itself ahaha). But they are there and I'm not one to be picky, so you really don't wanna pass this one up.

The City by Hours_Gone_By**

Spooky-fic, reaally well written (this writer has a talent with writing horror I swear), keeps you at the edge of your seat through the whole thing and wanting nothing more than for them to go--

Bayverse:

Mess With the Bull by CaptainCougar**

A classic take of Sunstreaker's arrival during the period where Cemetery Wind was hunting down all the remaining Cybertronians. Really nicely written and satisfying to read.

Solar Eclipse by SeaSpectre160**

My favorite take on Sunstreaker's arrival on Earth with all the chaos and squishy human-hating on Sunny's side. You love to see it.

Snake Eyes by snarechan

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker face a familiar foe, with a twist. I love the way they're written here.

AUs:

All The Friendly Ghosts by Anonymous**

Something's just not right about Sideswipe, and--it's not what you think it is. Really satisfying build up and payoff. I adore the writing style for it too.

Search & Rescue by sssunstreakerrr

Shattered Glass at last!!! It's sadly incomplete but the sheer quality of the available chapter and the premise makes it so so worth reading anyway.

Beneath the Vaulted Heights by Magnusoftheward**

I don't want to spoil anything bc it's best read going in blind so...just keep reading. I promise you it's worth it :D I really love the eeriness and confusion and just- the overall vibe of the fic. It's so good gah-

Abandoned by Hours_Gone_By

Horror fic, so so good. You can feel the eerieness of the place from the character's perspective. Ugh. Literally kept me at the edge of my seat the whole time. Other characters are also there!

Geminus by postapocalyptic_cryptic*

Pacific Rim AU. The twins are co-pilots. Really well-written fic! :D Bring your tissues

A Flash of Gold by pipermca**

Another Pacific Rim AU with human!Sideswipe. Where's Sunstreaker you ask? Well...

Pure Silliness:

Exothermic by SergeantCookie

I cackled from start to finish, it's that good LOL. If you need a good laugh, pls go read this. Also connected to "Snap, Crackle, Pop" by the same author.

How to Save the World in 8 Minutes and 3 Seconds by BalloonArcade

Pure chaos written in such an in-character way, poor Prowl lmaooo

In Which Sideswipe was Bored with a Board by a Boar While Bored by murtlewikisam

An absolute hoot omg I couldn't stop my head from going ????? the whole time XD

Aaand that's all for now! I'm sure I've missed some, but these are some of the ones that I already have in my bookmarks :D Hope you have a good (or wonderfully painful) time reading them!! And let me know which one you like the most if you do read them hahha

[daemon-in-my-head]

Huh, let's do one of these again cuz I'm feeling some kinda way

Dark Urge Ask game - redeemed post epilogue funsies

If your Durge could change one, single thing, event, feature, just anything about their life, their body or their relationships, what would it be?

Do they ever miss the cult or Bhaal or wish they chose differently? How are we coping is what I'm asking.

How's shit with their LI going? Did they have one? Is it going well even after the post-epilogue party? What's the vibe here? Did they maybe even find a new partner?

What's it like being known as a hero? Do they enjoy it? Are they getting shy whenever they hear a bard recount their tales? Is it too overwhelming, and they decided to try and escape it?

How's our mental health? Did we get out unscathed, are we still tormented by nightmares? How do we cope with this little absolutely life changing journey we just went thru? Any lifestyle changes to deal with it?

Have we learned from the mistakes of our predecessors, or are we fully embracing the Abdel Adrian route? Are they trying to establish themselves as an influential figure or trying just to live a lovely little peaceful life?

How do they feel about never getting the majority of their memories back? Is it relief, that they won't remember what atrocities or mistakes they make or perhaps dread, because a Bhaalspawn undoubtedly made enemies and they'll never know who they are?

How's it going in terms of faith? Serving Jergal, another god altogether, are we faithless nowadays? What's the situation here?

How's the canon situation on a scale of 1 to 10? 1 being this could be part of a sourcebook, 10 being this is basically original fiction now.

Do any of the traits they learned in their old profession ever come in handy later down the line? Have they opened a clinic, do they get by as a mercenary, are they staying far away from everything even slightly connected to their past life?

Are they gonna reach the later half of their life expectancy or are we gonna have some sweet early demise going on here? Will they ever get to enjoy the fruits of their labour?

How exactly does loosing Bhaals essence impact a being created by him? We holding up well or barely scraping by?

Generally speaking, without saying much, what's the vibe here after it all ends? Tragedy, coffeeshop AU kinda vibe, rom-com, drama baby, slice of life or hero's quest?

Do they ever feel like they miss any of the other chosen? How much do they manage to recall? Are they beating themselves up over it?

What's their biggest struggle now that everything is over?

Also what's the greatest joy now that they're "free" (depends on interpretation ig)?

Was it worth it?

Do they ever meet any of the other tadfools again? Are they questing together once more? Do they purposefully stay away from some?

How are the others doing actually? What's Durges opinion on it? Do they think their old companions are doing well, are they glad about it or maybe even resentful? Do they ever even find out?

Any physical changes going on here compared to how they were before the whole 'defeat the brain' business? What are they? Is Durge handling them well or do they need a bit more time?

Now as for the fun part.... Do they ever remember what exactly they did with some of the other chosen? How awkward is it or are they proud of it? Does anyone else find out? Give me the tea dammit.

Does the skrunkly little tyrant ever make his way back into the picture in some way? What way exactly?

What happened to the physical prayer for forgiveness? Is it stored in a lil chest somewhere in their new home? Did it get burned? Did it get buried? What's going on here?

What happened to the stones? Where are they? Do they still exist? Remember most of the idiots only wanted the crown, nobody ever said something about those pretty gems that spend god knows how long with the others. Basically how freaky is Durge about them?

What happened to a bunch of very peculiar weapons such as; the Fabricated Arbalest, the Stillmaker, Bloodthirst, Crimson Mischief, Ketherics Warhammer, all that fun stuff.

What happened to the coat. Tell me. How's it doing. Where is it. What's going on?

Finally, last but not least. What is Durges biggest wish now? What do they strife to attain? Peace, happiness, the food they've been craving for a solid week now?

Wild card / Dealers choice.

Obligatory reminder how these work: ask prev when u reblog, be nice, this isn't strictly romantic, bla bla bla yk what I usually put here. Basically, have fun, go wild, be nice to your fellow brain rotters, make someone's day. We're all sane here. Promise.

[corviiids]

sparknotes for "fix your eyes" the 2/2 akeshu fic

as always dont read this if you havent read the fic it wont make any sense, also p5r spoilers obviously but i think the boat's sailed on that one. happy 2/2, the holiday where goro akechi dies and i celebrate by killing ren. fuck yeah.

i guess the overarching question in this fic is whether ren is real, or, like to what degree he is real? to an extent i want to leave it up to interpretation, but it's not nearly as ambiguous as i left it in my death note fic telltale. you can have your own take on this but fwiw my take is that ren is as real as goro is in canon third sem, which is to say he's real. he's behaving as himself. maruki isn't influencing his behaviour. (at least that's my intention.)

the main mirror to canon w this au is like... okay so in canon, akechi sacrifices himself for the thieves and then is brought back, and ren's big challenge is whether he can stand to lose akechi a second time. it's worse for ren because ren is the Hero, you know? so not only is akechi someone he failed to save, akechi is someone who gave himself up specifically so REN could live, something that ren (who likes to sacrifice himself for others) really struggles to live with. the idea of allowing akechi to sacrifice himself therefore becomes a huge problem for him.

in THIS fic though, akechi killed ren himself. so it's a different question. the actual choice is not between killing ren vs keeping him alive--it's that in november, akechi made the wrong choice. he did something he regrets. so now the onus is back on him, again, to choose again, and figure out which choice is right. killing ren was obviously the wrong thing to do by ren. now, although ren doesn't offer a view one way or the other, the implication is that ren does not want this reality, given ren was fighting maruki all month knowing he was dead. so the right thing to do arguably is to allow ren to die again, even though his death was a wrong that occurred already. this is the more painful choice for akechi to make because it's something he actively wishes didn't happen, but it would be the right thing by ren--so akechi's challenge is whether he can make the selfless choice this time having done wrong before.

that's why akechi in canon and ren in this fic react so differently. akechi has been robbed of his agency all his life, so he impresses his wishes very forcefully on ren: he refuses to live like this, so he insists that ren choose to let him die. whereas ren in this fic was robbed of his life by akechi choosing his fate for him. he knows akechi is now struggling with regretting his decision, so telling akechi to choose one way or the other would actually be more merciful. telling akechi to let him die would make it easier for akechi to do it, and ren refuses to take the burden off him. ren's saying, you chose for me last time and you chose wrong, so now im forcing you to choose again. and this time get it right.

i had a really fun time with akechi's voice in this fic because he's so unstable and just really irritable. he is not having a good time, and he's really unreliable as a result. i think he's really been at sea since he killed ren. sometimes you get everything you always wanted and it just fucking sucks. the whole time he's struggling with how much he wishes he'd failed. he wants ren back, doesn't deserve to have him back, want to spend time with him now that he is back and is also struggling with guilt and bemusement that ren is spending time with him at all. he manifests all of this as irritability because he's just not good at regulating himself.

one of the big things also is that akechi's internal narration calls ren 'amamiya' for almost the entire fic, because they just never got that close. more precisely, akechi doesn't feel he's able to consider ren that closely.

ren's behaviour in the fic is pretty inscrutable. like, it really doesn't make sense for ren to want akechi at all. i guess im making kind of a meta point with this more than i am making any point about ren's internal world. the point is mostly just to emphasise how little goro understands what's going on with ren here. this is a very unreliable narrator fic, something goro comments on himself.

(btw, the joke here is that latin is a dead language........ lmao)

shows thru in parts like this also, where goro kind of technically has a point and yet if this is the entirety of your worldview it's not only jaded it's also just kind of... incomplete. like, it's not wrong? ren's confidants are all like this, basically. and goro does then go on to say that though relationships START like this, they can't stay that way. but more than that, it shows how brittle goro's perspective is on social relationships. his distortions are pretty clear.

he also has this repeated refrain of nihilism the further it goes along lol

there are also a lot of these moments where ren clearly indicates he knows something is up, but akechi just misses them because he's so wrapped up in his own shit.

oh also backtracking a bit

the idea here being that kind of like how akechi will wait in kichijoji in third sem, ren's kind of become the kichijoji confidant and akechi's become the protagonist.

btw initially i had planned to write a more closed ending, or potentially a CYOA style double ending depending on which choice akechi makes? but ultimately i decided to leave it ambiguous.

i feel like there is definitely other stuff i wanted to say but i forgot it so i guess ill just add onto this post later if i think of it. anyway! thanks for reading! happy 2/2! <3

[cartoonartistpng]

Mephiles the Mind, Iblis the Heart

Basically a breakdown of how I interpreted 06 but also a foundation I use for all my AUs.

Mephiles is highly intelligent and apathetic while Iblis relies on emotion and is more like a wild animal. Mephiles does not have full access to Solaris' time powers, but Iblis does. However, Iblis does not have the mental capacity to actually use them.

Things that are less “interpretive” and more “theory”:

This is why Iblis needed a powerful emotion to be released

In the original timeline, the one which led to Silver’s future, it was Elise’s death which released Iblis. Because the seal was broken improperly, Mephiles could not recombine with Iblis. Therefore, he would need to look for a different way, but he can’t with Sonic being there and being an obstacle (not while Mephiles is still weak). Hence why he brought in Silver—a powerful hedgehog determined to save his future no matter the cost—who is also a completely new factor to change the timeline. Silver would keep Sonic busy while Mephiles figured out how to properly release Iblis… Since letting her die didn’t work last time. When Silver began figuring out the charade, Mephiles didn’t care enough to try hard with his manipulations, especially if it meant Silver would help keep Elise alive. However, once Mephiles realized the way to release Iblis was via an extreme emotion from Elise well… how convenient that the Princess grew attached to a certain blue hedgehog. Turns out killing Sonic really was the key all along. And if you want something done right… you gotta do it yourself.

Essentially (to explain Mephiles’ weird planning in canon), Mephiles did not know the seal was reliant on Elise’s emotions in the beginning, so he sends Silver to distract Sonic while he figures out how to actually free his other half. How ironic that killing Sonic is indeed what needs to happen. Mephiles basically has a “wait, it’s actually that simple?” moment

The strong emotion can be anything—grief, anger, joy, fear—it just has to be strong. Like a “consuming your mind” kind of strong.

The original explosion which killed Elise was too sudden for any strong emotion to pop up. (Even in her last moments, she had faith Sonic would save her.)

Mephiles is the mind while Iblis is the heart. Only once combined does Mephiles—or Solaris now—actually feel feelings. However, Solaris is still adjusting after the disoriented episode of being literally split in two and so acts completely on his anger toward mortals for taking advantage of him.

At the end of 06, Solaris isn’t destroyed but rather is scattered/subdued, and everyone will already be long gone by the time Solaris’ pieces are reunited. Like “after Dark Gaia and Light Gaia have restarted the planet” kind of long time. They are gods after all. Time is different for them.

The rest of this is sparked from my “Trinity Gods” fanon. Aka, Gaia, the Master Emerald, and Solaris are the three gods who created Earth, as well as any planets prior to Earth. The Master Emerald is also called “Mother Chaos”.

While Gaia slumbers, Mother Chaos and Solaris watch over the planet to protect it. During Earth’s creation, Mother Chaos took on a physical form (ie. The Master Emerald) to live on Earth amongst its creatures. Curious about all Mother Chaos learned whilst living amongst mortals, Solaris decided to also take on a physical form and live amongst them. However, this meant limiting his ability to see the future—or rather which future would come true. Thus, Solaris did not see what the humans planned on doing with him until it was too late.

Gaia and Mother Chaos are A-Okay with Solaris destroying the planet. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time one of them has, after all. It’d be a bummer for it to end so soon, but they can just make another one. It’s because of this that they don’t interfere with Solaris’ plot… as well as the fact that their creations had hurt their friend.

It’s also this familiarity that means the Chaos Emeralds will so easily obey Mephiles. Doesn’t matter who posses them or if they’re on the other side of the planet, if the gods call, they answer.

[pinkxpantha]

Mute in the Language of Love

- Lynette x FEM! reader

#: synopsis- Lynette is pining hard for her friend. A not-so breaking news, she's not that experienced in the field of love. But maybe you'll help guide her in this unexplored biome

#: cw- 1.4k words, you/her pronouns, winners love winning, canon complient, non-established relationship, mutual pining, fluff, reader is implied to work with reviewing books or something, reader implied to be older if you squint and look through a magnifying glass. cup'o'tea

Lynette didn't think of herself as the type to fall in love and fall so hard. As though an arrow was shot into her eye, blinding her of her own environment as she fumbled and was tossed by the world around her.

That swirling in her chest was unfamiliar, the rhythmic pulse of her heart felt as though she could feel the texture of her own ribs whenever she was with you. 

You were a fascinating girl, and you filled her mind more often than she'd like to admit it.

She'd be foolish to think she could keep her feelings hidden for so long, but she didn't expect to be found out so quickly.

It might've only been three hours since Lynette herself realized what that bubbling of her chest meant each time she stared at you. And it only took three minutes for Lyney to become absolutely insufferable. 

Any time she was with you and he just so happened to be in proximity, She'd see his teasing looks directed at her, small smirks flashed her way when the corners of her lips twitched upwards at something you said.

"Lynette, when are you going to tell her?" He pestered her at least once every day. 

It wasn't that she didn't want to tell you anything; each day she suffered in longing wondering if she could hold you in her arms and live with your touch always being available to her, too familiar to forget.

Yet she worried about how her words may come across, if it was too direct, how would you react? Do you like grandiose gestures? (as much as she'd prefer not to make her feelings into a public spectacle it was still an option.) Or would even a heartfelt note suffice?

But Lyney, the ever clever and somehow helpfully-unhelpful man he was told her to 'Just ask her'

Safe to say Lyney got a face full of pillow that night. (Look what you've done, reduced her into this immature mess..)

 The next person to recognize her love filled gazes; one that would commonly be interpreted by those passing by as almost soulless despite how drunk her soul was off of her love for you, Was her younger brother, Freminet.

He had seen the two of you walking down a pathway close enough to one of his usual diving areas to see that soft smile on her face, Lynette's gentle gaze on you as though you were the most precious being in the world.

It took three days for Lynette to even muster up the courage to talk about romance with you; and she didn't even bring the topic up.

It didn't take long to find you, as if an internal compass pulled her into your direction everyday. She walked up to the table you were sitting at, a book rested in one of your hands and a cup of tea in the other.

"What is that you're reading [Name]?" She asked, stirring you out of the focused concentration you held when reading. (Was it so bad she found it cute when your brows furrowed after reading a sentence a bit too quickly?)

"A friend recommended me this book from Yae publishing house," you said, slipping a ribbon in between the page you were reading, showing her the title of the book in your hands. "It's a romance but I wouldn't say it's all too romantic." 

She looked at the cover, reading out loud. "'Engaged to my Lover's possessed body..?' It sounds out of place for that genre, it's a bit...?" 

"Scary? Definitely." You finished for her, the curve of your cheeks becoming more pronounced as you smiled with amusement at her confused reaction. "It would be horrifying to wake up and suddenly someone you know well-- isn't them?"

Lynette hummed in response, "When you put it like that, I wonder how the author came up with that plot." To which you rested your head on the knuckle of your fingers.

"It really depends on how it's written. Good chemistry is good chemistry," you said before looking at the chair in front of you. "If you have the time, you can always have some tea and chat with me Lynette." You offered.

Lynette's ear twitched at your offer. She sat down with a 'Thank you' quickly feeling all her surroundings melt away into a fading background noise with you.

You went over to one of the staff, placing her order for her. Something you had already known by heart, Lynette liked the sharp bitterness of her tea, and she also liked a sweet aftertaste. Tea and biscuits was a perfect combo.

Soon you returned back to her, the sun coating you in it's rays as though it was accepting you to be of the same caliber.

In some ways you were the sun to Lynette. "Are romance books something you read often?" She asked as you sat back down in front of her. 

You held your position in thought, "Outside of reviewing books I wouldn't really say so. I definitely do have an appreciation for the romantic but its always better when you can see it on someone's face." You looked off into the streets of fontaine

Your eyes followed that of those walking together. Different pairs of couples with their arms interlaced with one another, "That look in their eyes, treasuring someone so much that they could stand out in any crowd. That's more satisfying than any well-crafted line of text."

Lynette wanted to beg you to look at her, to see how her pupils dilated each time she looked at you as if she wanted to take in your whole essence and keep it imprinted onto your brain.

"It sounds like you speak from expirence."  Lynette commented, a selfish part of her wanted to be the only one that could show you love on such a grand scale. But her love for you was unique in its own way. She would be the one walking with you as you recited poems from across teyvat that you remembered in that moment.

That love was hers.

"I guess you could say so, I have fallen in love before." You said after taking a sip from your own tea making her remember her own neglected tea. You turned back your head to face her.

Lynette hesitated, her mouth slightly parting as she asked, "If it's not too personal, could I hear more?" You nodded, "Of course."

"I love for simple reasons," You said, your hands folded on your lap as you watched Lynette. "They would listen to me as though I was the only sound they could hear." Your gaze dusted her cheeks like a feather, as if she could feel each movement of your pupils.

"And I watched them as if they were the only moving thing in a still world. " You said.

"Do you still love them?" Lynette asked, her words tumbling out almost instantaneously. Maybe if you were a bit closet to her you might've heard the waver of her breath or seen how her tounge rubbed against one of her teeth. 

 "I don't think its possible to ever stop loving." You responded, Lynette's breath caught in her throat, the vertebrae of her spine keeping it trapped as she looked back at you. 

How Lynette wished she were an artist so she could draw that fondness of your face over and over again, and feel her stomach explode and contort with each rendition. 

Lynette's mouth twitched into a small, barely noticable smile "I guess that's what makes absence hurt so much." She said.

You nodded, "Love really is a beautiful thing." You responded. 

The two of you sat in each other's company for a few more minutes, drinking into each other's presence in a comforting silence as you sipped your tea.

It was only a few minutes afterwards when Lynette placed her cup down with a clink, the empty teacup placed back on its holder.

"Thank you for staying with me for a while." You said, not finding something of substance to make her stay and talk with you some more, but also not wanting her to leave.

She stood up and gave a slight bow to you, "Of course. I enjoy your company." Those soft monotone words padded your ears in a comfort she probably didn't even mean to give.

"I'll see you soon?" You said to her.

"Yes, soon." She responded.

You watched as she walked off into the distance, her figure fading with each step. You let out a soft sigh, glad you could talk about love with her, even just for a moment. In three seconds you already missed her so.

I literally spedran this, it's 3:29 am and I have not proofread it, I will come back to fix mistakes tho 😁 trust ( ≧ꇴ≦)

its actually 1477 words but who's counting [proud]

[starry-bi-sky]

more about og tue timeline twins danny and dan/jamie

very touchy with each other. you might even say. ccclingy. its to be expected, they're two halves of a whole after all and all they've got of each other. worryingly co-dependent. do not separate. ever.

Danny was really weak and sick after the initial separation, and was for a while after. Jamie knew internally that if Danny died, he'd take the whole world with it. He was the one sole caretaker for him while he got better -- not for lack of trying on Vlad's part, but without his ghost powers he was nothing more than a feeble (albeit handsomely rich) man, and James looked ready to bite his head off if he got within ten feet of either of them.

Vlad is intimately aware that James (or Danny, if he tried) could snap his spine in half like a twig, and is uncomfortably aware of his own lack of ghost half now. It makes him feel self-conscious and exposed, so he never fully returns back to "cocky and self-assured billionaire Vlad Masters". Making deals with other brands feels a lot harder now that he can no longer possess them anymore.

Speaking of, he very quickly has to come up with a cover story as to why there's now a James Daniel Fenton to the public, when no records whatsoever of him existing existed prior. Lots of forging false government documents on his end. James and Danny do not help because it's his fault this happened in the first place.

(Regardless of whether or not Danny actually willingly chose to rip out his ghost half/humanity in canon is true, or if that was Vlad Masters speaking out of his ass, a large part of the blame still falls on Masters.)

(As his primary caretaker and guardian, it's his responsibility to ensure the health and safety of his charge, and since Danny was in clear emotional duress at the time, it can be argued that he was not in the mental state to make such a decision. And, allegedly, couldn't do it on his own which is why he asked Vlad for help.)

I chose "James" as Dan's name since it's a popular fanon middle name for Danny, and since he's half of Danny, it felt like it just made sense lol. Also because of the ensuing comedy of the two of them introducing themselves as "James Daniel Fenton" and "Daniel James Fenton". It's got the same energy as "danny with a y" and "danny with an i" and it's the exact kind of name bullshit you expect parents to give their twins.

I don't have their exact personalities down, but something I am actively writing into this au's bible is that I think Danny should be the quiet and (ig technically) meaner one. There's a lot to go into about interpretations for ghosts, halfas, and the incident itself, but TL:DW; Danny is technically soulless, or at the very least missing half of his soul (altho Jamie is too just in a different direction).

Pair that with the trauma of losing his family in front of him + having his ghost half ripped out + all the trauma he would've sustained as a hero, and he's not doing too hot mentally! i think if the twins met good timeline!Danny, Danny would've mistaken Danny for Dan and Jamie for the original half.

He comes off to others as pretty apathetic and indifferent to a borderline terrifyingly calm degree. He doesn't go out of his way to insult people, but he also doesn't care enough to consider the other party's feelings so he doesn't filter himself, which makes him come off as rude. The only times he looks truly comfortable is when he's near Jamie or talking to him.

His standoffish, ice prince demeanor makes Jamie look like a saint in comparison. When really he's not all that much better? He's more outwardly emotional than Danny, whether that be positive or negative, but at the end of the day he doesn't trust or care about anyone else any more than Danny does, and he's got a bit of a sadistic streak. Danny reigns him in when he starts becoming too destructive.

(Which I think makes sense. Danny asked Vlad to rip out his ghost half specifically so he could stop feeling his human emotions. Dan, despite his monotone voice, does exhibit emotions. He's smug when he asks Valerie if he likes his ghostly wail, sardonic when he reunites with Sam and Tucker, annoyed, shocked at Danny's ghostly wail, etc. He enjoys wreaking destruction and chaos.)

(If Danny had survived his encounter with Dan and if Vlad was successful, then I imagine he'd be rather apathetic to his other half as a whole. That'd be interesting.)

Overall though they're both hurt, bitter, and distrustful of the world around them, with abandonment issues a mile wide. They can get better and they can heal, but it takes time and patience and proper support.

On the DPxDC side of things, they do genuinely hold some kind of respect or regard for Bruce. They also don't become vigilantes for a while. Neither of them are jumping at the bit to enter heroism again, not when it was heroism that killed their family in the first place.

In fact when they find out Bruce = Batman they think he's foolish for it. They think its a fool's errand, and they've been so spurned by their time as Phantom that for a few weeks, Jamie even refused to call Bruce anything but Sisyphus. Danny called him Tantalus, and the two of them had a faux-argument about which one was more accurate.

Bruce does, though, worm his way into both of their hearts, and that's like, the main reason they become vigilantes to join him. So that they could keep him safe and not because of any desire to return to the heroic life. Relearning to care and finding satisfaction in helping others was an unintentional side effect.

(Bruce is so very smug)

Essentially:

The Twins: this is our squishy and fragile adoptive father. If anything happened to him, we're becoming mass extinction events.

Bruce: Nnno.

[adarondweek]

Adarond Week 2025

I have prompts! This challenge week starts on Sunday, January 5th, and runs until the 11th.

Day 1: First meeting

Cute? Bitter? Tense? Canon? AU? What happened during their first meeting? What was going through their heads?

Day 2: The spark

What draws them together? (Or one towards the other?) Who falls first? Who falls hardest?

Day 3: The Children

How do Adar's children figure into all this? Are they routing for their father to get some? Do they like Elrond or hate him? How does Elrond feel about the Uruk Children?

(Do Adar and Elrond have a child of their own? 👀)

Day 4: The Reactions

Elrond has a lot of friends (Gil-Galad, Galadriel, Durin, Camnir). How do they react to him being with Adar, however you imagine that happening?

Does Adar have someone close to him that is surprised to see him with Elrond? (The children could also come in here too, if you have multiple ideas)

Day 5: Home

Where is home for this ship? Mordor? Rivendell? How do both of them feel about it?

Day 6: The end

Happy, sad, bittersweet, a few days after meeting, a thousand years in the future; what is the ultimate fate of this ship? If Adar still dies like in canon, how does Elrond feel about that? Does Adar take Celebrían's fate? Do they sail off into the sunset after thousands of years? Something else?

Day 7: Freeform

Did I miss something? Do you have an idea that didn't fit with the prompts? This is for you!

All interpretations of this ship are more than welcome! I've tried to leave the prompts as open as possible to allow for takes with different levels of happiness, conflict, and... consent. At the end of the day, though, these are just prompts. Go where your art leads you and have fun with it!

[pigeonstab]

I must know

What do you think about the apple twins, and do you have your own interpretation of them and their relationship? :D

(Also your art skills, hand them over 🫴 your art is stunning, gorgeous and I must confess that i love to scroll through your blog sometimes just so i could look at your beautiful art chchchchch <3333)

HI hello!! I was not expecting to see you in my inbox person that is way cooler than me JHI

I already wrote this once I'm gonna do it again. just Better and more concise.

Iiiiii think they're tragic, they're the song call them brothers by Regina Spektor to me. The thing about my interpretation is that my Nightmare is very different from yours I think. I also like to throw canon out of the window whenever I please.

SO, to start at the beginning, to me they were very very close as little kids, they only had each other y'know? the apple incident only happened when they were like 12/13 right at that age where you start to question everything and reject what you know. By then there's a lot more friction between the twins, they still love and care for each other yes, but arguments are more frequent, tempers are shorter. They always come back to each other though. They're each other's best friend, biggest annoyance and only comfort. It's the perfect time the tear them apart, they're in a vulnerable state where even their duty is something they question: is staying to guard a tree all they're gonna do with their life? (Nightmare thinks yes, Dream thinks no). The villagers know this, and that's the precursor to the apple incident. Weaker, more unsure and divided twins means Nightmare's the only one at the tree when they come to take it down (I do also think aging them up makes Nm's actions make more sense? Idk) So. Nm's gooped up, Dream's in stone, talk about changes in your body when you reach that age eh.

I think Nightmare for his first years out into the multiverse was very angry. He was alone (as he feels he's always been) and the negativity coupled with the immense trauma, he's really not doing well. he's stewing in all of this hate and his guilt is eating him alive. He hates himself and he doesn't want to think about it. His plan is to shove everything down: He's always been alone anyway. The incident was his brother's fault. his brother was never there for him. He comes to these conclusions and he accepts them as truth. He eventually chills out, he detaches himself. He starts to think he's better than all of that, that he's above it. He's only keeping those ideas more as subconscious truths than mantras to live by. Then he recruits Killer? (and this is where I uh. I don't know Killer's lore. and also I like... when Nightmare's nice. also by now Nightmare has his english teacher meets Silco swag) and it's alright.

Until! Dream gets unstuck, the first meeting with Dream after the whole incident things go ballistic inside his brain. all those truths he's made for himself are making him want to put all the fault on Dream and see him as an enemy (as well as his own denial, guilt and self hatred.) But at the same time that's his brother. His mirror. His blood. His childhood. He knows inside he can't hate Dream. He can say he does, but it's all lies and denial. So he's just torn.

Dream on his end, is completely lost in the multiverse, he's like a bleeding wound where Nightmare's a scabbed over one. Seeing what his brother has become is devastating to him.

I don't really have the whole in between planned, but Nm gets all his tcheam and he acts like their boss, he does care about their safety and wellbeing he just feels like he shouldn't get close. (I like to think he rescued them from their aus like he wished somebody had done with him (Dust and Horror would have stayed in theirs but it's more of a case of 'fuck it why not' than anything, especially for Dust)) he keeps a lot from them, about his brother and how he truly feels. Killer knows a lot though, cause he's like that. And I think Dream get introduced to Ink and all that good stuff.

ALSO are you kidding me YOU draw so good you're like 10x the artist I am that's just thank you so much?? I didn't think anyone went scrolling through my blog to find my stuff, I'm gonnv cry. I didn't think you liked it that much qwq or at all

[dee-morris]

Aziraphale's Anxiety

There's something I feel like we don't talk about enough when it comes to things that Aziraphale is afraid of. Fanfictions, especially human AUs, interpret his fears and his "rejection" of Crowley as a form of internalized homophobia, and given the strict oversight and corporate-megachurch-coded supervisors I get it. A lot of us have had similar experiences with religion, except Aziraphale gets the added perk of knowing that what they're threatening him with is actually real and not an abusive power play.

But anyway.

Setting side the Final Fifteen for the moment because I stand by my hypothesis that we don't know everything that was happening in that scene or exactly why the characters behaved the way they did, Aziraphale's fears have been primarily guided by a desire to protect. Usually Crowley, but not always. He meddled in Elspeth's situation to try to protect her from going to hell. And if you do the math, he wasn't wrong to do so. A couple of years of misery and poverty against an eternity of torture? For an immortal creature who actually understands the concept of eternity, it checks out.

When he said no to the holy water he wanted to protect Crowley. When he gave him the holy water, it was to protect Crowley, in a lesser of two evils kind of way. When he broke up with Crowley at the bandstand, I think several things are going on: he wanted to protect the earth, he wanted to protect Crowley, and he knew that ultimately leaving the planet wouldn't guarantee their safety because when the end came the ENTIRE universe was getting shut down, not just the earth.

And here's my favorite example: the Job minisode. We really do not talk enough about the fact that Aziraphale could have walked away from this situation at any time without consequences. He never broke the rules. Gabriel told him, All we're doing is not stopping hell. And Aziraphale didn't stop Crawley, technically; Satan's diabolical minister had already decided he wasn't killing anyone. All Aziraphale did was help him, which wasn't the same as stopping him. Rules lawyer Aziraphale my beloved.

So he didn't lie to the Supreme Archangel's face to protect himself or the kids (unless he thought they'd off the kids if they knew they had survived, but that seems unlikely, the trials were over at that point); he did it to protect Crawley. And he was fully prepared to go to hell over it. Not happy about it to be sure, but resigned. And I believe that it wasn't losing his status in heaven that upset him but losing his role as Earth's protector.

Anyway, that's just something that's been kicking around in my head. We've spent so much time between seasons reveling in fanfiction that it's easy to lose track of the canon characters. Aziraphale's anxiety has rarely been on his own behalf, and higher self esteem won't fix his problems.

I stand by my belief, however, that a roll in the hay might help. There fanfiction and I are in complete agreement.

[barblaz-arts]

I remember seeing that the addams are immune to fire,electricity, and poison, so when does that kick in? Are Sora(I'm making the safe assumption that she becomes an addams) and Enid (ig Morticia also counts in this) immune from birth? Does it kick in when they fall in love with the bloodline Addams? When their last name is legally changed to Addams? What's your interpretation? Cause right now I'm thinking about the first 2 options and scenarios where they KNOW they should have burned, electrocuted, or poisoned, and are just wondering something along the lines of , "Why tf am I okay rn?"

I'm sorry, but I don't really like to think that people married into the Addams family gain those kinds of abilities. Stuff that are canon in the movies dont necessarily have to be for the show, especially when they were done for comedic effect(i.e. Morticia barely being bothered as she gave birth). The invulnerability may be something I followed in Addams Family fics related to the movie, but I don't apply it to the series version of Morticia.(The invulnerability probably isn't even canon to the show's version of the Addamses anyway)

That hc is kinda attached to the Addams Family curse fanon, which I was never really a fan of. I don't want some kind of curse of fate compelling my characters to fall in love, and I don't want some outside force confirming that the person they're with is The One either. Falling in love has to be something that happens because of how their relationship has developed, and staying with the person has to be something they decide on their own. That's romance to me, not some curse.

And with the kinda love life Pugsley's had in my AU, applying the Curse in that storyline would be giving implications that I'm not interested in exploring.

I also don't like the idea of people who marry into the Addamses suddenly gaining or always having gained invulnerability because of the kind of relationship arc I want for Morticia and Enid in my AUs. If you've read my fic, you might remember there was a scene between Enid and Morticia talking about boundaries.

As well as Morticia and Enid may fit in with the Addamses like a glove, I still want to emphasize that they are both outsiders being welcomed to the family, and it has to be FELT, you know? It's an interesting conflict to explore, that even Morticia had difficulty adjusting to a different lifestyle with the Addamses due to them being just so different in many ways. Because it would be interesting to explore it in relation to how she could bond with Enid over it.

That was the mindset I had when I wrote that scene. I actually had plans to further explore it. There were supposed to be more scenes with Morticia and Enid, but I had to cut it short.