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chispas-and-broken-bindings · 4 years

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A Preview...

Someone requested a fix for their birthday...I don’t have the next chapter for I Just Think I’ll Scream quite ready for prime time, but here’s a sneak peak:

Ch 20 Sansa

Robb and Ned were up and away before Sansa emerged from her shower in the morning. The house is chaos as Catelyn tries to wrangle the remaining Starks out the door. "Sansa, stop feeding Shaggydog scraps from the table and get dressed! Bran, there are two boxes of gourds by the back door that need to be brought to the store for the window display. Be a dear and put them in the car. And where are Arya and Rickon?"

Sansa skips up the stairs before she's pulled into the hunt, almost knocking into her younger sister as she slides down the bannister. "One of these days that's going to break."

"Whatever, killjoy."

"Mom is looking for you, but you better change. We are supposed to wear floral for the Women's Club Bake Sale. It's themed and Cersei Lannister is going to be there, so we have to be on our best behavior." Her little sister is wearing their dad's old Falcon's sweatshirt and ripped up jeans, looking for all the world like she's about to spend the day painting a house or cleaning out a garage, and not hobnobbing with their mother's friends and clients.

"I'm not working the bake sale. I'm selling tickets to the haunted fun house with Mycah."

"Says who?"

Before Arya can respond, Catelyn is at the bottom of the stairs. "Me. You know that it'll be better for everyone if Arya isn't cooped up all day in a tent with the Women's Club ladies. Help me get through the midday rush, Sansa, and you can slip away and spend the afternoon with Harry if you'd like."

"Gods, Mom! They broke up weeks ago! Catch up!" Arya yells as the back door slams behind her and Sansa is alone, staring down the steps at her mother whose face has fallen into a look of concern.

"Oh, Sansa, dear. Why didn't you tell me?"

She sighs, "It's fine, Mom. Like Arya said, it happened weeks ago, and it was just a high school fling. They aren't meant to last." She turns back up the stairs, not waiting to see if her brush off was convincing. She dresses in the dark maxi dress waiting on her hook, with its long flowy sleeves and pattern of intricate woodland flowers. Usually, she feels like Florence Welch in it. Today though, as she inspects herself before the mirror, it's coming off less stylishly bohemian and more dowdy Victorian with the small ruffles along the high collar and shoulders. Ygritte would never wear something like this, a small ugly voice whispers.

Just as she's about to dive back into her closet, Bran yells up the stairs, "We're going to leave without you, Sansa," and it makes her choice for her. It's fine. She'll just hide in a corner of the tent with Old Nan and sneak lemon cakes all day. No one has to see her. So what if the band is playing this afternoon? It's not like any of them care if she watches their show, and she's basically heard the whole set already in rehearsals. It's not like Robb told everybody at school about it. It's not like she promised to get there early and save a spot up front with Marge and Jeyne.

Ygritte will probably be there to watch Jon. Best to skip...at least until she gets over her absurd crush.

"Sansa! Mom is literally starting the engine!" Bran yells again.

"Coming!" The best she can do is throw on sunglasses and a wide-brimmed fedora and hope no one recognizes her. Outside, Arya is still arguing with Rickon about buckling his car seat and Cat is on her phone, pacing up the driveway while Bran sits on the back step, whistling the march from Bridge Over the River Kwai. "Liar," Sansa flicks off his baseball cap. "We're nowhere near about to leave."

"She was starting the engine before her phone rang."

When they finally find a parking spot, it's apparent to everyone that they would have been better off leaving the car at home and walking. Though the festival hasn't officially started yet, the main street is closed off, and the big parking lot has been covered in carnival rides overnight. Arya peels off from their group when Mycah gives her a holler from on top of the Ferris wheel, leaving Bran and Sansa to lug the several boxes filled with decorative gourds to the hardware store, while their mom takes Rickon and their contributions to the bake sale in the opposite direction.

Outside the store entrance, Benjen is struggling with his pop-up tent, which keeps leaning to one side in the wind, while Meera watches him from the front step. "This is your fault, Sansa! Making me set up a stand, like I'm some lady selling doilies at a craft fair," He curses when the whole thing folds up on top of him.

��"Good morning to you too, Uncle Ben," she rolls her eyes. "Where is Robb? He can get you bags of sand to anchor the tent. And don't knock doilies. There are entire rooms at the Met devoted to Myrish Lace alone. You can poke fun at craft fairs once even one of your pieces is on display at a similarly storied institution. Until then, you better get comfortable setting up this tent because I have three holiday craft markets lined up for you this season."

"You're just supposed to be sprucing up my website, not taking over the business! And don't get me started on your brother. I haven't had my morning caffeine fix yet because he disappeared on a coffee run ages ago. How long does it take to pour a bloody cup of coffee? If Jon Snow is holding up my joe with some pumpkin spice, whipped cream nonsense-"

On cue, Mr. paparazzo himself, appears in the doorway and before Sansa can land on an emotion, he's lifting the box from her arms with a gruff "G'morning Sansa," and then he's back in the shop, leaving her empty-handed and a bit empty-headed.

"He looks like he needs caffeine more than you," she remarks at last, meeting eyes with her uncle.

Meera sniggers. "You think? He looks like he spent the night sleeping under a car." Sansa wouldn't go that far, but it was hard to miss the circles under his eyes or how pale and papery his skin looked in the cold morning light.

"Give the kid a break. They played their first show last night, didn't they? If he's a bit wrung out this morning, that just means he's doing it right." Benjen jumps to Jon's defense.

"Well then, he's been doing it right every weekend. He's looked like this every morning since he started at the store," Meera says, heading back inside to supervise since Robb is still M.I.A. Sansa thinks about Ygritte's Instagram feed with its late night cigarettes and coffee at the diner and regular parties in what looks like someone's grungy basement. So, Jon works hard and plays hard. It's not entirely shocking. It niggles at her though; how tired he looks and how he doesn't talk about partying when he's at Winterfell. Her other friends are always eager to share their weekend escapades, but when Sansa asked how his party went when his Mom was out of town, Jon just gave her a noncommittal shrug and told her it was fine.

That's because you aren't really friends. She turns, more than ready to join her mom at the bake sale, when Robb comes skipping across the street with a drink carrier in hand. "Sansa! Just the girl I'm looking for." Her brother is as chipper as ever, seemingly inured to whatever effects from last night's show have taken the wind from Jon Snow's sails. "Can you help with the window display? Mom told me to spiff it up for the festival, but you've got a better eye for that kind of thing."

"Oh, sure. Skip out of work for an hour to flirt with some barista and then come back at the last minute to coerce your sister into doing your job?" Benjen barks and Robb's face turns scarlet.

"I… uh, what? No… I wasn't flirting…"

"Aren't you doing the same thing to me, Uncle Ben?" Sansa retorts, saving her brother from his bumbling. She makes a note to stop by the coffee shop and find out who this barista is. Uncle Benjen may be onto something. "Come on Robb, give Uncle Benji his coffee and I'll spare a few minutes for a consultation."

Inside, Bran and Meera are balancing tiny pumpkins on their heads as they wind through the aisles, trying to trip each other up. Jon Snow is leaning against the paint counter, looking ragged. She fights the urge to ask him if he's okay, opting instead to tip over Bran's pumpkin and herd him over to the window display. "Here, help me before Mom walks by and turns Robb into the headless horseman." They distribute the gourds in artfully artless piles throughout the window, as Jon and Robb hang a paint chip mobile over their heads; the autumnal pièce de résistance that Sansa spent hours making last year.

"Sans, I wish you could have been there last night. It was amazing," Robb excitedly recounts the band's show, "Jon was on fire, and apparently some promoters from White Harbor were there and Satin thinks he can book us some shows at North State! Isn't that great?"

"Yeah, though, won't that be hard with swimming?" She doesn't want to rain on Robb's parade, but maybe Arya is right. She is a killjoy.

"I have a meet in White Harbor next month. Maybe we can book a few gigs around it. What do you think, Jon? You up for a weekend road trip?"

"Uh.." Jon scratches at his neck, blearily. "I mean, that's a long drive to do late at night."

"Don't worry, we'll get a hotel for the weekend!"

"I don't know-"

The bell jingles at the door, and before Meera can scramble off the counter where she's been reading a comic, Catelyn is inside, gazing around the space, looking deeply unimpressed.

"Mom, uh, we were just finishing up with the decorations." Robb wobbles on the ladder in terror, unable to hook the last end of the mobile in place, and Bran ducks behind a pile of pumpkins, trying to hide his glee.

"Robb, you should have opened the store fifteen minutes ago. How are you just now finishing the decorations?"

“Well, the gourds only just arrived-” Robb starts, lamely.

“Never mind,” their mom sweeps through the space, picking up the boxes still out from stocking, tidying the candy by the register, before turning one last critical eye on her teenage employees. Jon cups his neck as he holds the ladder with his other hand. Robb scrambles down, having finally managed to hang the mobile correctly, rushing forward to grab the empty boxes from his mother. “Cersei Lannister is going to be here any minute. Get this garbage to the back. Meera, flip the sign and Jon, take the ladder back and...splash some water on your face or something. You look like death, warmed over. Jory is coming around ten, if you need to take the afternoon off.”

Jon’s ears turn pink as he folds up the ladder beside Sansa, and she looks out the window, mortified. “Sorry Mrs. Stark, but that’s not necessary” he begins, but Catelyn is already walking back to the office with a tired wave.

“I said it was a lot of hours you were taking on between school, the lumberyard and this. Just make sure you are fitting sleep in or you’ll make yourself sick, dear.”

#i just think i'll scream #jonsa fic #jon x sansa au #for k #happy birthday #wip excerpt

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

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Worth it (Part 1)

*Not My Gif*

Post Date: 11-17-19

Paring: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3K (whoops 😂)

A/N: New Series to add to my long list! Oh yeah, also screw timelines cause this definitely doesn’t go well with any canon timeline cause Peter and Reader are both 17 and Tony’s alive and there are more differences to come 😊

~Master~

~Marvel Master~

Another day at this school that you didn’t even want to be at. Just great. Wasn’t Midtown supposed to be spectacular school filled with smart people?

Then why the hell was everyone here so dumb and rich? You didn’t have much going for you in the rich column, but as for smart, let’s just say if you weren’t at all lacking in the brain category. In fact, you were probably one of the brightest kids in the school and yet here you were sitting in a history class, learning about WWII for the millionth time. You didn’t care though, at this point you’ve learned enough about this topic and it wasn’t like you were going to be using it anytime in your life. You put in your headphones, temping your teacher to catch you and pulled out your book, burying your nose in it and blocking out the rest of the world.

Peter tapped his pencil against his desk, listening to the teachers boring lecture as he looked around the room. Ned sat next to him, scribbling a few notes down as Peter sighed and continued his glances. He saw MJ slumped on the desk looking almost as bored as Peter, Flash who sneered at Peter, mouthing the words “Penis Parker” to Peter who just rolled his eyes, and finally he saw you. You were the only person who wasn’t paying any attention to the teacher or to the school in general. It made Peter confused as to how you got into this school, you didn’t look to be making any effort but who was he to say anything. The bell rang and Peter packed up his stuff, taking a few looks back at you who still sat at your desk reading your book.

You knew that the class was over, but you didn’t feel like getting up just yet. You hadn’t taken anything out besides your book, so it wasn’t like you had a whole mess to clean up. MJ nudged your shoulder, nodding her head towards the door as you nodded back, grabbing your torn pack as you shoved your book in it and swung it over your shoulder. You pushed your way through the swarm of kids in the hallway, your music blaring in your ears as you approached your locker. You swapped out a few of your textbooks before pausing, looking at the almost empty locker with a sigh. You pulled out one of your earbuds, listening to some of the chats around you as your eyes followed. Everyone looked like they belong, wearing cute tops and laughing with friends while you stood there alone in an oversized hand-me-down hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans. You let your locker slam with a huff as a piece of paper flew out before it closed. You picked it up, closing it almost as soon as you opened it. You glanced around hoping no one saw, but of course they weren’t, no one looks at you. You opened the paper once more, letting your eyes drift over the scribbled writing inside.

They were blueprints, or as close to blueprints as you could get for one of the most important towers in New York. The Avengers tower.

You stuffed the paper in your pocket as you moved along to the last class of the day. Thankfully it was just study hall and you had the time to go over your plans.

You know, the plans to rob the Avengers. That plan.

It was a bold move to rob a bunch of superheroes, but you didn’t really have a choice. You wanted to get out of this life you had and the only way to do that was to get money, and you didn’t really have a steady income. You’ve done petty robberies before, a few houses, buildings, basically easier places but nothing compared to this.

You went over your plans so many times at this point you could probably recite that entire sheet from your head, but no one ever said to much planning was a bad thing. Actually, over planning has saved your ass more times than you’d like to admit. You were so caught up in your blueprints that you almost jumped when the bell rang throughout the classroom, but you ignored the feeling, rushing out of the school faster than you had before. The streets of New York were loud, but they were nothing compared to what you were used to as you approached the old broken-down brown building that looked like it was dropped out of the sky. Shouts and arguments could already be heard as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, a pair of almost matted hair twin boys rushing straight by you as they pushed the door closed, making you jump forward. You didn’t say anything as you watched them each tug on one half of an Iron Man toy.

“Let go! He’s mine!” The first twin, Brian, yelled as he pushed his brothers face away, trying to get him to loosen his grip.

“No! He’s mine!” the other one, Blake, said as he smacked the hand out of his face, making Brian whine as you rolled your eyes.

“Guess what? Now he’s mine.” You pulled the toy out of the two 6 year-old’s hands as they both faced you and started screaming. “No. If you can’t share it, you don’t get it.”

“Just give them back the damn toy. Their bickering was better than this.” You looked towards the raspy voice as a 40-something year old woman trudged down, a bottle of wine in her hand as she grabbed the toy and threw it on the ground in front of the boys.

“It’s 2 in the afternoon, how the hell are you already drunk? And why aren’t the twins at school?” you asked as the woman took a drink from the bottle making you scoff. “Ms. Rike.”

“What?!” she turned to you with a snarl as you stood tall.

“Why aren’t the twins at school?” you asked again as she rolled her eyes, repeating your question in a mocking tone as you followed her throughout the building.

“Didn’t take them. Slept in instead.” You bit your tongue, biting back the urge to snap at her as you left her alone. It was disgusting how she acted. She was in charge of all of you and here she was drunk, and you just got home from school. You headed down the hallway, passing a few rooms before heading into yours. It was almost bare. It didn’t look like a 17-year-old kid lived here, but really you didn’t live here. You were stuck here. You dumped the belongings of your bag on the bed, pushing aside everything that wasn’t related to your upcoming robbery. A couple scraps of dollars fell out that you found on the street earlier and you grabbed them, coming to the middle of the room. Your floorboards creaked as you stepped over them and fell to your knees. Pulling back a loose board, you reached your hand into the ground, pulling out a brown paper bag and dropping your money in. You kept every dollar you found in here, you were saving as much money as you could just to get out of this life and build your own. No one knew about this, not Brian, not Blake, not any of the other kids in the home, not even Ms. Rike knew about this stash. They didn’t even know about you sneaking out in the dead of night and robbing people blind. If they did, you’d be sitting in juvie or worse, jail instead of foster care.

You ignored the hours of homework you had as you got ready for tonight’s adventure and by the time 1 in the morning rolled around you were ready. Everyone was sleeping in the rooms next to you, Ms. Rike’s snores could be heard from across the building as you closed your door softly, pulling up the hood on your black sweatshirt and crawled out the window. You made your way down the block, always keeping an eye out for anyone around you and by the time 3 in the morning rolled around you could see the tower.

You pulled out your computer, the most expensive thing you owned and worked your way into the Avengers security system, turning off the A.I. and then the security system. Once you were sure everything that catch you entering the building was turned off and you were safe you made your way up the building. There was a door in the back that you found to use, and it was electronically accessed. You were able to open the door through your computer before sliding into your backpack and pushing the door slightly open. You waited for an alarm or something but lucky there was nothing, and you were safe.

The tower was filled with classified information that quite honestly shouldn’t have been just laying around, but you pushed past those things and went for the good things. You wound up in Tony Stark’s lab and it was bigger than you thought when you looked at the blueprints. He had tech everywhere, thousands of dollars’ worth of tech and if you weren’t currently robbing the place you would have stood in awe of the place. You grabbed a few of the nearest pieces, throwing them in your bag before moving onto the next table. Once you couldn’t put anything else in you zipped the bag up and turned to exit the lab. The only problem was the tired looking man making his way down the stairs with a cup of coffee and rubbing his eyes.

“FRIDAY? Turn the lights on?” he yawned as you ducked down behind the table, hoping Stark didn’t see you in the dark as you tried to keep your breathing steady. When the A.I. didn’t answer Tony froze, knowing something was wrong. “FRIDAY?” he repeated, hoping that the female voice will come back. You needed to get out of there once Tony picked up a tablet, turning the lights on himself as he realized all of his work as well as some of his suits upgrades where gone. You started to crawl as Tony began tapping away on his tablet, FRIDAY coming back moments later and you were screwed. You were almost at the door, a few more feet and you were home free. That was before Tony triggered an alarm on one of the pieces you stole. Your backpack sounded as Tony jumped, seeing you on the ground as you ducked your head away, ditching the backpack on the ground and making your way back to the door. But you closed it, and Tony locked it. And you were locked in Tony Starks lab after trying to rob him.

Cold steel around your wrist did not settle the nerves in you as you sat locked to the desk in front of you. Stark didn’t call the cops, instead he dragged you to another room in the tower and locked you there.

“What’s your name, kid?” he said as he pulled up a chair to the table, the back of it facing you as he sat in it, resting his hands on the backrest. You didn’t say anything and looked around the room, trying to learn anything you could about it. There was a mirror on the wall next to you which you quickly deducted to be a two-sided mirror and the only door was in front of you and behind him. Tony huffed as he watched you, he couldn’t help but be curious about the teenager who managed to break into his place, only getting caught because he had a last-minute idea. “Look, let me just talk to your parents and I'm sure we could get this all cleared up.”

"If my parents show up, let me know. I'd love to meet them. Now can I go?" He looked taken back by your comment, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you handcuffed in place.

“Hey, wakey, wakey, Sunshine.” Some nudged your shoulder with their hand as you shot up, wiping your face. You must have dozed off because the clock on the wall said it was a little after 5 in the morning. Your wrist was still handcuffed, and you could see it was starting to get a little red from you tugging on it in your sleep. You glared up at Tony who just smirked at you, dropping a folder on the table in one of the most dramatic fashions you’ve ever seen before. You stared at the folder, preparing yourself for what’s inside. “You got quite the story there. Y/N.” Tony looked proud that he figured out your name, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction as you continued to stare, making him clear his throat and open the folder. “Y/N Y/L/N. 17, Attends Midtown Tech, No known parents, foster care since you were 2, in and out of” Tony paused as he counted the number of homes you’ve been in throughout the years, raising a brow at you when he was finished, “multiple homes, each one listing different reasons as to why you left. Oh, and there’s these,” Tony pulled out a few photos of you in black on security cameras breaking into a couple different stores, leaving with backpacks full of money and items. He closed the folder and looked back up at you. You held a smirk on your face you tried to hide but it was no point. “You think this is funny?”

“I think this is hilarious.” You countered as Tony chuckled lightly and took a seat.

“Look Kid. Why don’t you just tell me how a 17-year-old girl managed to hack her way into some of the most sophisticated security systems in the world.” He almost sounded angry and only fueled your fire. He leaned forward and so did you.

“It was child’s play. Next time make it a challenge, will you?” Tony let out another chuckle as he stood up, towering over you.

Tony was fuming. A girl barely older than his protégé was giving him a run for his money in his comebacks. He groaned as you pressed the palm of his hands in to his eyes before bringing it down in front of his mouth. “Okay, how about this. You tell me how you learned how to work your way through my system, and I’ll let you get back to your life of petty crimes and convenience store robberies.”

Peter didn’t know you. He never admitted he did, but right now he realized the person he saw in class, sitting in the back reading was no one compared the girl sitting in the room in front of him. He was on the other side of the mirror since he showed up this morning when Tony called. He wanted to know if Peter knew anything about you after Tony found out you attend the same school which confused Peter. He didn’t understand why Tony cared about who you were until Tony caught him up and showed him where you had been asleep.

But now he sat in his Spider-man suit and listened as Tony read through your life in a matter of 5 minutes and he watched as you bickered with him, a smirk prominent on your face and Peter found himself intrigued with how you handle yourself. He was so caught up in watching you he missed what Tony had said, but he definitely caught the way you threw your fist into Tony’s nose, making him stumble back and clutch it.

He wasted no time in rushing into the room, “Mr. Stark!” He yelled as he grabbed his mentor, making the white eyes on his suit large. You were kind of surprised, you’ve never actually seen Spiderman in the flesh, and you couldn’t help but admit how cool his was.

“Hey Spidey. Nice to meet you.” Peter turned to you and for a second he thought he saw your face soften as your eyes flickered to Tony who looked just looked pissed off. “Sorry about the nose. Just be lucky it wasn’t your balls.”

Boy that threw them. Tony looked even more shocked and you could’ve sworn that Spiderman took a step behind Stark. “Ok, that wasn’t cool.” Tony pointed a finger at you as you shrugged, sitting back down in the chair as you watched. Spiderman tried to help Stark, but Tony just slapped his hand away and glared at him. His nose didn’t look broken when he pulled it away, just bleeding majorly as he wiped away some of the blood on his T-shirt.

“yeah, well what do you expect? I am a petty thief.” You said as Tony crosses his arms and took a seat. Spiderman leaned against the wall and watch Tony, copying his pose as you laughed. Tony was confused before he followed your gaze to Peter behind him as Peter scrambled to stand straight, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave a scared laugh.

“You’re not going to talk?” Tony said as he focused on you again, watching as you shook your head. “Fine, maybe you’ll talk to the police then.” Your smirk fell completely as you watched the man get up and out of the car, pulling the door open for Spiderman to leave as you closed your eyes. Everything could depend on these next few moments. You scrunched up your face, trying to figure out what to do as you slammed your hand on the table. Tony paused, waiting in the doorway for you to make your decision with a smirk.

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

Part 2

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nedfuckindiscretionchicanejr · 6 years

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So, the way I see it, Agent Stern has basically three possible paths in the long term. (I mean, of course there are more but very broadly speaking and making some assumptions)

1. Serious antagonist

2. Silly antagonist

3. Serious antagonist turned ally

Now, I'm not trying to say what I think will or should happen. But, consider option 3.

Starts out pretty simple. "I'm from the FBI and it is very important that we find out what's going on here. National security and all, you know." And we get a bit of the gang having to work around this very smart and competent man who is trying to do the exact thing that all swore on their lives they would never let happen. They manage to evade and lie for a while, but he's closing in. And he isn't stupid. He's here because there doesn't seem to be a non-supernatural explanation for the video. He may even have other scraps of evidence from other abominations and other interactions with Sylvain. I'm thinking this has been a long-term project for him and he's been given one last chance by his superiors. He either brings back something concrete or loses his job.

He's desperate, and he's smart, and that's not a great combination for the gang. Eventually, they end up in a situation like Barclay did with Ned where they have to choose between stopping the monster and stopping Stern from finding out, and, of course, they choose the monster. And I think the way it happens is that he hears them talking about the gate and he's been following them, so he finds this gate, and he investigates it, and he goes through.

There are guards on the other side of the gate but this guy is armed and dangerous and scared. He doesn't destroy the world, but he fucks up real bad, and maybe someone dies, or almost does. And the law says that he has to die for what he did. But the gang find out what happened, and even though this guy has been a huge thorn in their side, and even though he represents a significant threat to both world, and even though we're talking about international law here and they have no authority, they just can't let that happen.

And they get upset and give a dramatic speech, like they do. And somebody, maybe Aubrey, says that what they're doing isn't a long-term solution. That the Pinguard is a bandaid and, especially with things being erratic, they're going to slip up again - anyone would, in their position, they're doing the best they can with such limited resources - and more people are going to find out and there's going to be more accidents and more death. There has to be a better way. We can’t just keep killing people. And the whole time, Agent Stern is quiet because he knows what he did and he remembers it, he remembers being so angry and not caring about the people he hurt, and he hates himself, and he's willing to accept the penalty, especially if it means keeping the peace between their worlds. He doesn't want anyone else to die, either.

And Mama is there, trying to do damage control, like she does, and she's asking them what they would do instead. Yeah it sucks but we don't have more resources and we don't have more people. Humans can't be trusted. It isn't like in Sylvain where everyone understands the risks and wants to avoid war. You have to understand that a lot of humans, and especially the ones with power, would want a war. "Like this one," she says, indicating Stern. "He came to Keppler with his weapons, ready for a fight." And Stern knows he has no place, but he protests, quietly, that he never wanted anything like this. But, he says, they aren't wrong, about him or about humans in general. He wasn't investigating for the sake of scientific inquiry. He was afraid of what he didn't understand and he was ready to fight and kill, never once considering that talking might be an option.

"She's right," he says to the gang. "Humans aren't ready. I'm willing to do my part here, to keep the peace. But you need to be, too. You have to keep this place secret. I'm sorry that it's hard and that you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.' And he looks at Aubrey and he frowns. She's too young for this. She should be going to school and playing sports and writing stories that she never expects to publish, but instead, this messed up world has forced her to be a soldier in a war that nobody knows about, that she'll never even get any recognition for. And he has tears in his eyes. Before today, it had been years since he cried in front of another person. And he says, "I wish I could make it easier. God, I wish that I could do the fighting, keep the secrets, shoulder the burden so that you all didn't have to. I wish I could use every tool the FBI has available - and we have a lot - to keep this place secret and to keep everybody safe. But it just isn't possible. If anybody else found out, they'd do exactly what I did." He hangs his head and tries to fight the tears. He has no right to grieve.

And there's a moment of silence and Duck says, "... but how would they find out? Aren't you the one who investigates these things? Aren't you the one who writes the reports?" And Mama looks at him, and then at Stern, and then, slowly, at the Sylvan judge. It takes some more convincing, first of Stern and then of the judge, and then, once he's free and back home, of Stern’s superiors. But somehow they manage to get him free and have him keep his job as the guy who investigates all this paranormal stuff. And every time he goes out on a mission, he sends a telegram to Amnesty lodge to ask if this is something he needs to be careful about. And, every once in a while, he gets a telegram from the Pinguard asking for help, and he does what he can. The endgame here is a genuine MiB situation where a few very trustworthy and very powerful people manage to make both worlds safer for everyone, without the whole world finding out. Because, as good as some people are, humans aren't ready for that.

But one day, just maybe, they might be.

#taz amnesty #speculation #joseph stern #my writing #this is #much longer that i thought it would be #honestly i wonder if this could be a fic #but i don't know if i want to write it #especially when it might just immediately get contradicted by the next episode #really i shouldn't care about that but here we are #also like i'm busy and shit with school still #maybe i'll do something with this in a month when i'm free-er if it's still possible based on what's happened in canon

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