#but most of them (except for the smoking one) is him investigating shit he really shouldnt be investigating heehee

[unexpectedbrickattack]

peepaw doodles 💛

[wiltf]

it was not unusual to have your attention drawn from what remained of a person, the further this investigation went. in fact, you had long since pocketed that little notebook of yours, shifting weight from foot to foot as the orders had come down to wait. truthfully, many of the others had taken the excuse to lean over the balcony only a few steps from you, tapping ash out of pipes. gossiping, arguing.

pointing, at the activity only two landings below.

and of course, you cannot help the draw of it. the pipe that slips easily into your fingers, and even easier between your lips, as names are barely whispered with that shrill edge of excitement. this was supposedly an easier task that required no formal security, or so your fellows said. a fight had broken out, and the flaming fist had been ordered to file in to temper it.

except, with the pile of humanoid remains behind you, it was not longer so simple. you had all stumbled upon some dirty secret, with how lord enver gortash now stood at the front of the factory doors. voice carrying so that you could catch every third or fourth word, but to even drag him out of the keep was telling you more than you were entitled to know.

“y’reckon they’re gonna kick us out soon?”

“word is that they sent a runna’ to someone down in the mermaid. lord gortash’s orders.”

well that was interesting. and also explained how long it had been since you had all received the first halt order. what were the chances that the person who had been told to slip into the blushing mermaid was still alive?

a look out the corner of your eye tells you that was remarkably unlikely.

“how long until they send ‘notha?”

as you exhale, part of you wants to say only a handful of minutes, judging by the pacing from lord gortash. was going to carve his very own trench with the careful steps forward and backwards, which you have no doubt would suit lord gortash just fine. after all, you’d been told this wasn’t even really the main manufacturing site — this was all just a front.

typical fucking wednesday shit, if you were being honest. when wasn’t someone using a warehouse as a front? granted, when you close your eyes and see that gory scene, you suppose most wouldn’t expect the warehouse to double as a butcher’s playpen.

or maybe they would.

you weren’t paid enough to really give a shit, just keep watching out for lord gortash’s face to split in two.

“who the fuck is that?”

did their voice echo, or was that person striding up to lord gortash just perceptive? you aren’t the only one immediately trying to shush, to push the pointing finger down, as two specks of light in the shadows stares up at you all.

whatever they were thinking is lost in how lord gortash opens their arms, greeting their mysterious tiefling friend. leading them, through the door under the landing you stood on, without so much as a passing comment to your captain in charge of the investigation.

“derrick, you dickhead!”

arguments, but the pipes are emptied quickly, stuffed away into pockets before the footsteps on those stairs get louder. lord gortash’s voice arrives before he does with his guest, and you are the only one at attention, hands behind your back. staring straight ahead, but curiosity sits at the edges of your peripherals.

this was lord enver gortash, after all. side by side, with the tiefling who did not seem to blink, and whoever might’ve been the poor sod that was sent running to the blushing mermaid. yet they didn’t look like they had an ounce of blood left in them, damn near close to passing out.

oh, right, the sheer violence. not even five paces from where you stood. on some level, you suppose, that you had reasoned since there seemed to be not much left, you were not really seeing any single person. or their remains.

just the red. red paint? is what your mind supplies, and if you thought of it like that, your stomach managed to stay where it should. after all, the smoke manages to fill your nose, and remove the rusted smell that will haunt you.

if you get a spared look, in truth, you were not sure if you were supposed to hold it. something in the gait, the tail, the set of shoulders. a predator, simply following the trail left behind. for lord gortash seems to fill the air with talk to your captain, his eyes never leaving the way that tiefling treads ever so carefully through the carnage.

“when did you find this?”

a voice that rolls with a hint of an accent you just can’t place, gruff, underused. long fingers and longer nails, that seem to have no issue with separating viscera, as if looking for something specific.

but when your captain looks at you, realisation hits. they were talking to you. “u-uh, we were called here earlier this morning, and were told that when the shift change occurred, this was found. my lor-my lady…?” your voice peters off, as you find yourself trapped by gaze alone.

almost hollow, visibly dark. barest hint of an iris in those eyes, and yet you. you are lost. swimming, to find where there is a flicker in there. part of you can feel that the way viscera is handled is not unlike your mind, gentle, pinched. folded and unfolded. but it is soft, encouraging, that when it ends, you had yet to notice that time had continued to march, leaving you behind to watch the tiefling move a hand through the air.

disappearing into the rafters, as lord gortash is staring at you now. that comforting smile oft greeting you all at the keep now feels cold. disarming in all the wrong ways, yet there is a clap against your back, derrick’s hand meeting you to pull you from the thought. perhaps. you were tired, after all. it had been quite a long day, since first arriving at this scene.

as your captain talks, you can hear a suggestion of going to the tavern. night off, paperwork tomorrow. grisly scene, and all that. and they’re right, when you will your head to look back down at the remains. it was a grisly scene, and the headache you must’ve always had was definitely because of the hard day — you deserve the drink.

did you agree? everyone else chimes in, a careful line of flaming fist moving around the remains, and down the stairs. heavy boots, all in time. even your captain, pulling the poor runner with them. a part of you moves, but it is not your feet.

nor your hands, torso, head. it is your eyes, following how lord gortash calls up to the rafters.

“amma, i sent the rest away.”

and when the tiefling — amma, amma, you had heard that name before — lands, the headache grows. splitting and twisting and pulling at your eyes, wanting to shove them out. heavy tongue and a locked jaw that won’t let you breathe. you were calm. you were afraid.

you couldn’t stop staring into those evil eyes.

“i think we’ve attracted some unfortunate following from waterdeep.”

a grimace is what you would have normally attributed to the twist of lips on the tiefling’s face. on amma’s, amma’s, amma! thinking the name feels like a nail is driving into your ear. bite your tongue, wanting to feel something, but did the muscle even make it between? is that blood from your mouth, or elsewhere? sweat and shit, all that fills your nose.

it was coming from you. oh gods, oh fuck, you want to plead. to fight. sound in your throat as hands work at your armour, pulling it free in parts, lazily dropping it to the floor.

“amma,” lord gortash says, as if such a name did not have your brain feel like it was going to leak through your nostrils, “will you be joining the soiree at lady jannath’s later this week?”

hair and horns and sweat and freckles. deceptive, along the bridge of her nose. so close that you would argue for a scent of iron and brimstone, were it not for the tinge of mulberries. why would you think that? you could not say, both in a literal and theoretical sense, as your shirt was removed.

as the tip of a knife pressed against your shoulder blade. “would i need to be masked?”

lord gortash finally walks towards where you were held, but you knew he would not be your saviour. careful hands that trace the tattoo, committing the symbol to memory. “it may be best, until at least the last hour. granted, i would only need your assistance for a few hours, if you would be so willing.”

your skin. they were cutting into your skin. picking and peeling and slicing you away, letting your bleed and scream in the back of your throat. there is nothing to you, blind feeling and fucking magic holding you upright, as you surely do pass out. come back.

and you are nothing to them, as she speaks. that gravelly voice like it had popped up from the depths of the hells. nails and hammers and piercing your ears, unravelling you almost as much as when the knife finds your sides, your arms. your neck.

you’re dying. “enver, with what would you need assistance?”

“i believe that i promised you such an occasion.” you’re dying, and,

lord gortash, and the butcher. your killer. knife in your throat as you weep and piss and shit and cannot move to let this all happen. blood does not flow but you are sure it does, because where else would it need to be, now, after all this time? lord gortash and the butcher kiss, deeply, biting and sucking and you are dying.

dying, as they are all but fucking in front of you, in front of the remains of the poor fucker you had killed only a day earlier. to draw these fuckers out but oh, gods, you were unprepared. stuck here now; dying here, now.

cursing them to damnation. yourself, for taking the stupid offer from xanathar. for not protecting your mind and knowing the last thing you will see is lord fucking enver gortash, and the bitch whore butcher amma! fucking amma!

pull the knife from your throat, and the darkness of those eyes seizes you. just like the way the knife had found its way into all of you, but now that magic has ended, and your body fails. it bleeds and shits and pisses and weeps, and you want to cuss the both of them out,

but especially that thrice-cursed liar and cheat amity,

as you die.

[jofcreman]

following the footsteps 

of a rag doll dance ;

we are entranced -  s p e l l b o u n d. [ meet joanie. ]

who’s that? oh it’s JOANNE ‘JO’ FOREMAN. i hear they’re TWENTY-TWO and are known as THE MEDIA MACHINE around DOWNTOWN HAWKINS. they’re also a JOURNALIST at THE HAWKINS POST,. they’re known to be SHARP + HUMOROUS and NOSY + ABRASIVE. some people say they remind them of:

stereo turned way up loud to drown out the screams telling you to ‘turn it down, young lady!’ 

 cloud of cigarette smoke following you everywhere you go

 drowning out the world with your walkman clasped onto your belt

 worn out doc martens that cling to you like a second skin

an unquenchable thirst for the truth

BASIC INFORMATION

full name: joanne foreman

nickname(s): jo, jojo, joanie

age: twenty-two

hometown: hawkins, indiana

current location: hawkins, indiana

orientation: bisexual

FAMILY

father: adam foreman

mother: midge foreman

siblings: jack foreman (younger brother), ___ foreman (older sister)

jo, jojo, joanie, almost everything’s fine except for ‘joanne’, she hates that name with a fiery passion. born and raised in hawkins, hasn’t been out of town for more than, like, a month or two, on school trips or summer camps. her parents are probably the most boring people on earth, with their little happy nuclear family and a house on elm street. living the dream of their generation, but jo’s dreams are bigger and they don’t fit anymore, no space in that big fucking house for her to let her imagination run wild.

there’s her perfect older sister, her perfect younger brother and, as expected, she’s the middle child and.. well, who knows what went wrong with that one? the way she dresses, her hair, the sort of music she listens to defies everything that her parents deem proper and good, everything they’ve worked for, shattering their perfect image. but jo’s not doing any of it to actively ‘rebel’ against her parents lifestyle, she really doesn’t give a rat’s ass about that, she just does what brings her pleasure, what she enjoys. no biggie.

despite being somewhat of an outcast she sails through school with flying colours, decides against college and scores a gig at the hawkins post. and she’s content with that, she’s been interning there since sophomore year, so really, jo thinks she deserves it. and she even gets treated a little less shitty by her employers now, so that’s a win! though she’s never been treated particularly bad, either - jo likes to think her more adrogynous nature and her ‘i’ll take no shit’ attitude contributed to that. aside from the fact that her dad’s editor in chief at another local paper, slightly bigger one. but she doesn’t want to have her success determined by her father’s.

 she’s in charge of sorting through the rough draft of stories and news, discards the many … weird clues that people are calling in, those can go to the weekly watcher. jo doesn’t buy the bullshit about the town being ‘cursed’ or whatever. it’s just a small town, there’s literally nothing more to it.

although lately, she’s begun to wonder if there could possibly be some truth behind it. because she’s been experiencing it herself. flickering lights, the way the energy shifts around her, she can feel it. and it’s happening so often now, this is past the realms of coincidence, jo is sure. she’s always had dreams of being a bigshot writer but investigative journalist, yeah, that’ll do, too. she’s gonna get to the bottom of this, if it’s the last thing she ever does (which it hopefully won’t be).

she’s never been particularly close to her brother jack, well, they used to get along great as kids all the way through middle school. then jo started high school, jack followed and started hanging with the popular crowd, jocks, people who openly mocked her and that caused them to drift apart. she’s always been content, being a weirdo, stops people approaching you. she’d often thought about ... making amends, trying to get closert to him again. he was her brother, after all.

but that never happened, jack disappeared sometime around summer 1986. right before the mall fire struck the town. and now that he’s back - jo can’t help but think that it’s... weird. why on earth would her star student athlete brother willingly go and join some sort of commune in the woods for two years? why didn’t he say anything? why does she distinctly remember him acting awfully weird those last two weeks before he went missing? 

just more fuel for her ongoing investigation. hawkins, indiana - bring it on.

[youknow-igetit]

heres the thing

like, baltimore happened. right? right.

but like, absolutely none of the foxes believe that andrew and neil are together. like romantically. (it’s mildly plausible that they could have sexual relations with one another but it’s literally only allison that thinks that, and even she’s doubtful.)

(renee is the only outlier here but she doesn’t comment on any of it because she doesnt have a death wish because she’s andrew’s friend)

(maybe also aaron but he thinks they just fuck)

what with neil’s insistence on not swinging and andrews... andrewness, it makes no sense that they’d actually be together

they never touch whatsoever. no kissing (no evidence of kissing), no hugging, no hand-holding, nothing. not even an accidental bumping of knees between the two of them.

kevin refuses to talk to them about the topic, but nicky is a very talkative person. “I live in the same dorm as them. but i’ve never seen anything even slightly coupley.”

even allison is beginning to doubt herself.

by their second year most of the foxes have come to the conclusion that they just said it to get the foxes out of neil’s love life and to make them tolerate andrew at least a little more

like, of course they think that neil and andrew are friends, at least, no one could get that close to the little knife-wielding maniac andrew and not have some sort of connection

also they talk to each other a lot. andrew hardly talks to anyone else. the foxes interpret that as they 

but they kind of just brush it aside until it’s new year’s eve and all of the original foxes are there (because they’re not letting neil leave them again)

andrew and neil are off smoking and nicky’s like “okay guys a new bet.”

so nicky thinks that they’re together, full stop (because he’s lived with andrew for years he knows that he shows his affection differently). 

aaron thinks they’re just fucking and so does allison (one of the few times they have ever agreed on anything)

matt, dan, and kevin all think that they’re just close friends (because kevin is probably thinking about their exy careers and also the internalized homophobia that the nest drilled into him for years is still there)

renee isn’t a part of it (obviously)

and so the bet finally begins

neil and andrew probably know about it, but they also have no idea who thinks what and they also don’t really care. they know. that’s all that matters. they’re a very private people.

none of the freshman even know that andrew and neil are together in the first place, so they definitely don’t know about the bet

so the foxes start watch andrew and neil just a little bit more closely but they’re still not seeing anything different than how they acted before they were ‘out’

it isn’t until the next october that they get anything

they’re all in the girl’s suite (now only dan and allison, renee graduated the year before)

it’s all of the foxes, the new freshmen and the now-sophomores (bonding exercise, dan told neil. you’re all gonna be there) and all of the original ones

they’re all hanging out and some people are chatting but it’s kinda lame

so allison’s like “fuck it, we’re all playing never have i ever.”

they establish things such as if you feel uncomfortable revealing anything you don’t have to, no singling people out, etc

so the game begins and there’s the usual tame questions like “never have i ever skateboarded” and such

but it slowly delves into the more revealing things, like “never have i ever broken the law” (and nearly all of the foxes drink because they’re foxes)

but jack, the asshole, goes “never have i ever sucked dick”

nicky, obviously take a big gulp. and allison, dan, matt (”what?? i was experimental in high school”), andrew, kevin (everyone kinda knows about the hookup culture that the nest had, so whatever), and many of the freshmen and sophomores drink as well. and, astoundingly, so does neil

nicky literally gasps, allison coughs on her drink, the rest of the original foxes simply gape (except for kevin, who swears loudly) because there was no one that neil would give a blowjob to besides andrew

neil, completely unblushingly, goes “what?” at all of his speechless friends (except for kevin, who is still swearing. it was only twenty dollars that he lost, but still). andrew, next to him, has the same bored expression

so matt, kevin, and dan have already lost the bet, even if it’s still going strong

but eventually they’re all like okay yeah, whatever, they’re fucking, but that’s it

except nicky

so it basically all of the foxes trying to get neil (not andrew, andrew’s scary) that it’s a fwb thing without explicitly asking outright

but every time matt asks how his thing with andrew is going he just kinda shrugs and goes back to what he was doing because it hasn’t really changed much except they trust each other a lot more, both emotionally and physically but neil’s not gonna tell anyone that

so allison’s like “got any dick recently?” and neil’s like”???? yeah?? i guess???”

but suddenly it’s andrew’s fifth year and nearly all of the original foxes have graduated and the bet is still there, obviously, but it’s come to the point that if they stay together after andrew graduates then nicky’s right and he wins the bet

but it’s before that that shit goes down

so it’s spring break, and they’re all at the cabin that they went to that first time (i like to think that it becomes a tradition and no matter what, all the foxes are there every year)

so  it’s the third night and things are... tense

it’s not that andrew and neil are being quiet, since they usually don’t talk a lot, but the air around them seems charged, like a bomb about to go off

they’re all gathered around, sitting on assorted furniture or the floor, and their all conversing quietly and dan gets up, grabs an assorted but large selection of alcohols, and sets them on the coffee table, declaring that they’re going to play drinking games and absolutely no one can sit out (glaring pointedly at neil, who looks ready to bolt. he hasn’t had that expression on his face for years. they all hate it.)

it is, again, during a game of never have i ever, when things come to a crescendo

they’re all mildly tipsy at this point of the night, and neil and andrew are sitting on the same loveseat, but nearly as far away from each other as possible (they’re still playing, since dan insisted, and despite her having not been their captain for two years, she is still mentally their captain)

allison, because she felt emotional or it’s just the alcohol, goes “never have i ever been in love”

and dan and matt share dopey smiles as they both drink, aaron drinks, nicky stares off into space while drinking, thinking only of erik, and kevin takes a hesitant sip from his

its silent for a full second before neil, with a determined look on his face, looks andrew in the eye and takes a huge mouthful of the alcohol and swallows

no one says anything either from knowing better than to say anything or being physically incapable of speech

neil and andrew maintain eye contact before andrew, andrew, picks up his own drink and drains his glass

as if rehearsed, they both get up at the same time and storm outside onto the deck, slamming the door and shaking the paintings on the walls

it’s a terse silence as they hear faint voices arguing but it isn’t until they fall silent that kevin gets up to investigate but then immediately goes to sit back down after one glance out of the window

he picks up a bottle of vodka and drinks directly from it before going “they’re fine”

“how do you know?” matt asks tentatively

“because they’re making out”

the room is silent again, surprise coloring the air

and then

“pay up, bitches”

Nicky is very pleased upon knowing that his cousin actually does have someone to love and so does neil his adopted son but also that he won six hundred dollars (”I never should have fucking bet that much” allison muttered later)

and for the rest of their vacation everyone’s happy and fine and dandy and they all ignore those hickeys on andrew’s neck

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 17- The Patrol Redux

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Warning: Very slight spoilers for the provisional licensing exam in the anime and spoiler for the manga

Masterlist

Hawks was well accustomed to the jovial persona he was expected to put on in front of pretty much everyone outside of the commission. After all, it was one he’d cultivated almost his whole life. Of course he had days throughout the years where it felt all too exhausting to play the joker, but hero work was exhausting. That was the nature of the business. But since he’d watch your heart shatter in real time, since he’d heard you crying on the other side of a bathroom door all while you texted him about his betrayal, the persona hadn’t just been exhausting but absolutely suffocating. Yet he couldn’t turn it off. It was almost more natural to be Hawks than it was to be Keigo now. Even when Mirko had pointed out how rough he looked, his instinct had been to sit up straighter and perk up his wings as if that would hide the bags under his eyes. Hawks never dropped the persona. But as he sat on the roof of a building by where he intended to meet Chargebolt he realized he would probably have to.

Mirko had given him a plan. A really good one at that. If it worked he’d have to thank her later. But there was no way it would if he wasn’t genuine and that meant meeting Denki Kaminari as Keigo Takami. If the conversation stayed between Chargebolt and Hawks he was screwed. Knowing it was necessary and actually doing it, however, were two different beasts entirely. He would have to ignore every instinct he had honed over the more than decade he’d been a ward of the HPSC.

It had taken all of Denki’s strength to leave the apartment. You had looked so sad bundled up in his comforter staring blankly at your laptop screen as you went back and forth between attempting to work from the safety of his home and Netflix. Eventually though he had managed to pull himself away from his heartbroken friend, no matter how much it pained him, to go join the very person who had shattered you so thoroughly. He had wanted to cancel his patrols with Hawks but after the gossip blog had tweeted out about a potential feud his agency had demanded he keep it in order to avoid a pr nightmare. Who knew being a hero came with so much politics.

He expected Hawks to swoop down from above once he arrived at their designated meeting spot. He did not expect Hawks to look as bad as he did. “You look like shit,” Denki says by way of greeting. Hawks let’s out a humorless chuckle, “you’re the second person to tell me that today. Let’s go.” Everything about the experience is odd. As the two begin to walk Denki notices the bags under his eyes, the heavy set to his shoulders. For the first time ever Hawks truly looks like a man who carries the weight of Japan on his shoulders. “I know I have no right to ask this but how is she doing?” Hawks asks. Denki wants to snap back something snarky but something tells him not to. “Not good,” he says instead, shoving his hands into the pockets of his costume. Hawks thinks for a long moment, debating whether to ask the next question that comes to mind. In the end he decides he’s got nothing left to lose. “What happened at the provisional licensing exam?” “Dude.” “Not investigating. I swear.”

It’s weird to see Hawks so serious. Even when Denki had been injured during their first patrol Hawks hadn’t stopped bantering even once. It’s what had made Denki want to continue patrolling with him in the first place. At the time he thought they were similar. Class clowns who knew how to pull it together when the going got tough. But now all traces of that joviality seemed gone, except for the few moments the two of them would pass by a civilian, then he’d watch it slide back on like a second skin. “I’ll tell you on one condition. You explain the whole funny guy act thing you’ve got going on right now. It’s creeping me out a little seeing you switch back and forth dude,” Denki says.

Hawks stops dead in his tracks. His jaw clenches because it’s fair, trading one personal fact for another, but it goes against everything the HPSC has taught him. On the other hand, if he refuses, Denki will assume he’s just investigating again and then his chances of winning you back would really be gone. Denki looks confused as Hawks agonizes. He didn’t think it was that deep a question. Expected something along the lines of why All Might used to smile as he saved people. “It was the commission’s idea. I was a quiet kid and quiet doesn’t play well for a top hero,” Hawks finally admits before resuming walking. Denki has to speed up a little to keep pace. It’s an odd answer but he recognizes it must’ve been a difficult one to give. And, well, a deal is a deal.

“Like I said, (y/n) only took the exam because I pressured her into it,” Denki starts. He expected Hawks to perk up at learning new information about you but the man only nods in acknowledgment that he’s listening. “I thought if she got her license it’d convince her to try to be a pro hero again and then she could switch over to the hero course and join my class. She absolutely crushed the first part of the exam too. Yknow we had to tag targets on each other with these balls they gave us. It felt like a game so it was fun for her because she just smoked people out of the water. You should’ve seen Bakugo’s face when he realized she passed before he did! But uh, not the point.... The, uh, the point is uhm second round didn’t go so hot. We were helping some of the fake civilians when Gang Orca broke into the arena to play a villain attacking during a rescue and it, uh, it hit a little too close to home. Reminded her too much of how her mom died. She ended up having a panic attack. That’s why she failed and that’s why she didn’t bother going to any of the supplemental classes afterwards.”

The weight on Hawks’ shoulders seems to grow. “God I really am the worst aren’t I?” he chuckles. “Yea you kinda are,” Denki agrees, “but you’re kinda making it hard for me to hate you. Looking all torn up over this like that. It’s depressing seeing the number two hero like this yknow.” “Hence the persona,” Hawks shrugs. It’s quiet today, although they both expected as much. At least it gave them the space to talk. “Why’d you do it Hawks?” Denki finally asks. “Because she was too good to be true.” “Funny. She said the same thing about you that day.” “I’m many things but I don’t know if good is one of them anymore.” “Because of what happened with (y/n)?” “No. Not just that.” “I think this is the most honest I’ve ever seen you.” “This is the most honest I’ve ever been.” “How’s it feel?” “Terrifying. Mirko says I have trust issues.” “Yea that lines up.” “I need to talk to (y/n).”

Denki is the one to stop in his tracks this time. “I swear to god Hawks if you’re just trying to jerk her around I-“ “No! No it’s not that. I-,” Hawks sighs, “I just want a chance to explain why I am the way I am. Why I was so suspicious in the first place. If she wants nothing to do with me after that then that will be the end of it. I’ll write her a glowing recommendation letter for whatever hero agency she’d rather work at instead and she’ll never hear from me again. I swear.” Denki gives Hawks a considering look. Part of him wants to deny Hawks. That’s what Bakugo would do. Tell him to fuck off and keep his stupid explanations to himself. But he thought about you, curled up in his comforter, and decided it really shouldn’t be his decision whether Hawks stayed in your life or not. And if you were going to decide, you deserved to do so knowing all the facts. “Fine. After we finish patrol you can come with me to my place and talk to her but I swear to god if you make her cry again or I detect any bullshit, I’ll fry you Hawks. Number two hero or not I’ll send a million volts straight through your face with my fist.” “Thank you.” It was sighed out like a prayer. For the first time since you’d seen his texts, Hawks felt hopeful.

Author’s Note: Denki and Mirko are good friends to (y/n) and Hawks :’) In my mind there’s no way the HPSC didn’t know about Touya so I assume they helped Endeavor cover it up and would do their absolute best to make sure word didn’t get out about him being a literal child abuser

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut

[in-tua-deep]

20 for Vanya?

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

I have a lot of what-ifs and alternate timelines for Vanya lmao, especially ones that prevent the apocalypse because I’m a sucker for a happy ending tbh

What if Vanya was included? Why not? Klaus’s powers weren’t useful for missions, Allison’s story for Claire was literally like “yeah Klaus got distracted by ghosts in the background lol” so it’s not like a kid without offensive powers couldn’t do it

you have rebellious Vanya aus, where she decides, like some neglected children do, so act out. If her father isn’t going to acknowledge anything good about her, she’s going to make him acknowledge the bad. Punishment might be the only time he pays attention to her, after all.

(let’s call this an au where the pills suppress her powers but not so much her emotions)

So you have an au where she sneaks out and joins the missions. She breaks into the mausoleum and picks Klaus up and stares her father down with a challenge in her eyes. 

Five vanishes, and Vanya gets worse. She plays her violin at 2 in the morning. She refuses to eat her broccoli. she teams up with diego to see who can piss dad off the most

(her and Diego actually get along very well in this sort of au, honestly)

Vanya gets out and plays the violin and gets angry. She plays with fury and fire and gets second chair, because Helen is actually really very good. But she makes Helen work for it. Helen isn’t secure in her position, she always knows that Vanya is a step away from taking it from her

and maybe that should make them enemies, but it doesn’t. They’re rivals. Helen respects the hell out of Vanya, and Vanya can’t help but admire the woman who makes the most difficult pieces look effortless

(RIVALS TO LOVERS: VIOLIN EDITION)

Vanya writes her book. Except she kicks down Diego’s boiler room door and is like “DIEGO”

“WHAT”

“I WANT TO WRITE A BOOK ABOUT HOW MUCH DAD FUCKING SUCKS”

“I’LL BE RIGHT THERE”

as one of the rebel kids, Vanya actually got along well with Klaus as well since she helped him sneak out and 100% also smoked at least some weed with him because it would piss off Reggie tbh though she didn’t get into the harder drugs like he did

(showing up absolutely plastered to breakfast when they were sixteen was hilarious even if the laps they had to run around the block were not)

anyway Klaus crashes at her apartment sometimes, with supervision, because she loves Klaus but he has a problem and has stolen from her before but he’s still her brother but regardless

Klaus-Diego-Vanya sleepovers where they brainstorm the book to shit talk their father. Honestly it’s kind of a blast. They all get super wine drunk and end up watching Mary Poppins together with some Very Loud Opinions about nannies in general tbh

klaus throwing popcorn at the screen: BOO WHY WAS OUR CHILDHOOD NOT A MUSICAL???

diego: idk if you can have cheery musicals about child soldiers

vanya: i mean if they can have a musical about child labor in factories and the starvation of the workers in oliver twist you could do something with child superheroes

klaus: EXACTLY thank you vanya

they publish the book (luther is uNHAPPY, vanya dedicates her book to ‘all my siblings who survived the Reginald Regime but especially those who didn’t’, and she gifts Reggie a copy that says “fuck you lol” and is signed by her, diego, and klaus), they continue living, they go to the funeral when reggie kicks the bucket

and then five shows up, feral and aching

and five tells vanya about the apocalypse, and vanya thinks about their father saying time travel messed with the mind, and then she thinks - fuck the old man he was wrong about her (ordinary, fuck that, she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves) and he was probably wrong about Five, too

and Five is wholeheartedly believed

“Let me call Diego,” Vanya says when Five tells her about the eye, “I bet he could totally wear a police uniform and get info about the eye. And if not, I’m absolutely sure Klaus could improvise a solution. He’s good at that.”

“Klaus??” Five asks, vaguely suspicious.

“We don’t talk about the Sleepover of 2012.” Vanya intones solemnly, and refuses to answer any further questions on the topic.

Harold Jenkins comes to the apartment and tries to woo Vanya or whatever, and Vanya is kind of like... “Look, Leonard. I can be your teacher for violin. It’s my job. But I am in a relationship. And also like, super gay. If you have a problem with that then I am not the teacher for you.”

Actually scratch Diego and Klaus getting called, which they do, Vanya looks at them and her thirteen year old brother and is like “wait. actually i know someone infinitely better to crack this case wide open.”

“Who?” Five, Klaus, and Diego all ask

“My girlfriend.” Vanya says proudly, called Helen up.

And Helen walks into the building like she’s at fucking war and has such demanding confidence that they just give her the information she seeks and apologize for inconveniencing her.

“Hey Vanya are we still on for date night tomorrow?” Helen casually asks after, and Five kind of wants to be her when he grows up honestly after watching her verbally eviscerate Lance or whatever the fuck his name is

“Yeah.” Vanya confirms, “Unless there’s other apocalypse stuff to do?”

“You take all the time you need, honey.” Helen says warmly, “After all the more time you take the less you have to practice.”

“I’m gonna destroy the concert piece and you know it.” Vanya threatens.

Helen sniffs, “Okay, whatever you say second chair.”

and then they kiss and Helen ditches and the others just kind of look at Vanya judgingly

“In fairness, she’s very hot and very talented.” Vanya defends herself.

Klaus nods sagely. Vanya nods back. He gets it. 

“Concert piece?” Diego asks, because he has priorities.

“Yeah, I’ve already asked for tickets for all of you and you will be attending Diego.” Vanya smiles prettily with all her teeth.

“When is it?” Five asks

“April 1st.” Vanya tells him, “And no that isn’t an April Fools joke. You will attend and you will marvel at my skill. And maybe run interference between Helen and Allison because I’m kind of afraid they’re going to rip each others throats out to establish dominance.”

“That’s the day of the apocalypse.” Five informs her.

“Not on my goddamn watch.” Vanya says, because her family will attend her fucking concert and they will make awkward small talk with her girlfriend and the fucking apocalypse has better lay down and get over itself because nothing can stop Vanya’s goddamn plans

“I can investigate Meritech more.” Diego offers, because Lance-or-whatever-his-name-is is clearly shady as shit, “I have police contacts I could go through. Hey Vanya, your concert tickets include a plus one?”

“They can.” Vanya shrugs.

“Sweet, let me see if Patch can come.”

“She’s way too good for you, bro.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.”

Anyway the point is they all go home, and Diego goes to talk to his police contacts and Five is definitely at home for when Hazel and Cha-Cha attack the mansion, oops. 

“Whomst the FUCK.” Vanya yells, kicking Hazel in the crotch because she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves she knows self defense thank you very much

“Ah.” Five says. “Hazel. How’s it going.”

“Just peachy.” Hazel wheezes, “Why’d you betray the Commission?”

“Well, you know. They cut the dental. That was really the last straw.” Five says, sarcastically.

“The dental.” Hazel echoes back, nodding very seriously, “I fucking know. You know physical therapy isn’t even covered anymore?”

“No shit?” Five says, “I mean you’d think with a job as physical as ours...”

“I know.” Hazel howls, vindicated. 

“Five.” Vanya says, rolling her eyes, “The house?”

“Oh, right.” Five frowns, looking at Hazel, “I mean. Can you like, leave? And not come back?”

“‘Fraid not.” Hazel actually sounds somewhat apologetic, “You know what the Commission is like. They’re really gunning for you.”

Five nods, because really what did he expect, “Can you leave like, temporarily? I mean you’d pretty clearly outnumbered. I don’t even know where Cha-Cha is, but judging by the furious yelling she probably met our sister and brother and Luther is hard to kill. Trust me, if he wasn’t we would have killed him when we were like, eight. But for real, can you get out of our house? I mean. Storming the den? Seriously? What kind of information did they even give you?”

“They didn’t give us any information.” Hazel responds back, sounding appropriately outraged, “They didn’t even tell us you could teleport.”

“Well that’s just rude. You’d think they wanted you dead or something.” Five muses, “But seriously, get out of my house.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Hazel admits, and leaves, because honestly Hazel is chill like that and knows when he’s lost. And Hazel also has a lot to think about. Like the fact that the Commission sucks and doesn’t even have dental, and how pretty the donut lady is. 

and Vanya is just like... okay. Weird. Is that going to happen again? Probably? I mean. Okay, this day has already been so goddamn weird. This week, honestly.

And they keep getting attacked by the Commission. And Vanya finds out someone broke into her apartment and stole her meds. What the fuck. 

“Did your shitty assassin friends do this?” Vanya asks, waving an empty pill bottle.

“Why would they?” Five asks, honestly confused.

“Because they’re assholes?” Vanya says, honestly outraged.

“You got me there.” Five admits.

The combined forces of Diego-and-Patch (because Patch is actually thrilled that Diego is asking for help regarding an actual fucking crime) figure out that the eyeballs are being sold illegally

Klaus is not kidnapped so he’s fine, just tagging along and living his best life, however this also means that Klaus does not steal the briefcase and Hazel and Cha-Cha are fine

Vanya keeps Five close at hand because frankly she doesn’t want him to leave again and she did really miss him. Also if she does save the world she can lord it over Helen’s head forever. 

And so Five is around when Vanya’s powers manifest, probably because they just got targeted by commission goons again because they’re trying real hard to kill five and separate Vanya

“Holy SHIT.” Five says, very intelligently, “You have POWERS.”

“Wow. Gonna have to write a fucking sequel to the shit-talking-dad book.” Vanya says, honestly a little light headed.

And then Vanya finds out her powers are sound based.

“Oh no.” Vanya says, “Where the fuck are my pills. I am not relearning how to play the violin with-powers a few days before the big concert Five, what the fuck.”

“But you need to learn to control them!” Five protests, “They’re your powers!”

“They’re a goddamn inconvenience is what they are.” Vanya states, “I mean, what am I going to do with them? Stop a bank robbery with the Umbrella Academy? Yeah, no thanks, that ship has sailed and sunk to the bottom of the ocean Titanic style. I’ll figure them out when I’m not in danger of blasting the audience halfway across the continent.”

“Yeah.” Five admits, “That’s fair.”

“Besides, if I’ve been on that shit as long as I have, and it’s been a long time, I cannot even IMAGINE what quitting cold turkey will do.” Vanya points out, very sensibly, like a siblings who has watched Klaus go through withdrawal symptoms more than once.

“Maybe there’s extra at the manor?” Five suggests, “Pogo probably knows.”

“Oh yeah I bet Pogo knows something.” Vanya mutters maybe a little bitterly.

They go back to the mansion and the Commission is honestly pulling their hair out tbh, and they ask Pogo who kind of pales and is like “UHHHH YES I CAN GET VANYA EXTRA PILLS” and goes to get them from whatever stash

“Fucking sweet.” Vanya whispers, entirely done with this situation, “The only adult male role model I had and he hid my powers from me and betrayed me. Love that for us.”

Five shrugs, “I mean, you’re right. All of our adult role models were all kinds of fucked up.”

“You vanished when we were 13.” Vanya says, “Didn’t you find like, any other adults ever?”

“Oh let me tell you about the Handler.” Five says, and proceeds to do just that. Because let’s be real, the Handler was the only human interaction Five had after forty odd years alone it was pretty damn important

Vanya, on the other hand, has strong plans to eviscerate the Handler should the two ever meet because Five deserved way better than to be forcibly made into an assassin?? honestly fuck that woman

that’s it that’s the au

Vanya finds out she has powers and is like “i have a LIFE i don’t want to interrupt it with bullshit POWERS,,, also going cold turkey off my meds seems like a bad idea if I don’t want to deal with withdrawal symptoms during my concert for fucks sake, my gf would never let me live it down if i skipped”

so vanya takes her meds, does NOT destroy the world, makes every one of her siblings go to the concert and even invites Hazel and Agnes after Hazel betrays Cha-Cha to join team No-Apocalypse. 

and then introduces them all to her girlfriend

“Holy shit Vanya.” Helen deadpans, “Your family is all kinds of fucked up.”

“I know.” Vanya says, aggrieved, “It’s been a long fucking week. Want to go camping and help me figure out my cool sound based powers? Bet they’ll make me a better violin player than you.”

“I think the fuck not.” Helen hisses, always up for a challenge, “Let’s do this. Me and my violin vs. you and your dumb baby powers. You’re on.”

“FAMILY CAMPING TRIP.” Klaus hollers, with all the enthusiasm in his little heart.

“Holy shit this is going to be such a disaster, I just know it.” Diego mutters.

“Shut up, it’ll be nice.” Allison says, elbowing Diego with her pointy pointy elbows.

“It’s going to be a shitshow.” Vanya says serenely, because it is. That’s just who their family is. 

Wouldn’t have it any other way, though

[thecottageinthedark]

Sorting Persona 4

Here again with another Sorting Hat Chats post! This one’s for Persona 4. Full disclaimer; this is based just on the game, not the anime. Also it’s behind a cut cause it is LONG. And has spoilers.

The system I’m using is explained here by @wisteria-lodge.

The Persona 4 MC, whose name is either Souji Seta or Yu Narukami depending on which supplemental materials you go by, is a really REALLY loud Badger secondary. His power is based on making Social Links with NPCs and shifting to become whatever they need-and also on patiently grinding to level up his attributes. And because he lives so much in this secondary-plus the fact that on a meta level he’s kind of a stand-in for the player-his Primary is hard to see.

But where it gets revealed in the end is the decisive moment when the ending you’re going to get is decided. The Investigation Team have discovered that Namatame’s been putting people into the TV, and thus are assuming he’s the murderer-and it’s become horribly personal, because one of the people he did that to was Nanako, and even though she’s been rescued, she’s deathly ill thanks to the TV World’s poison.

And now you-and the MC-have a choice. The IT are baying for Namatame’s blood, ready to kill. One Badger Primary method would be to appeal to the fact that he’s a person, you can’t just kill people….but nobody’s listening. Another would be to dehumanise him and say, he’s a murderer, he needs to die for the sake of everyone-going along with all the fury of the group. A Lion would lash out too-less because everyone’s doing it and more from their own gut feeling, but that would still lead to dead Namatame. A Snake might kill Namatame because he hurt Nanako...or, in the Golden remake, if they’ve done Adachi’s social link, they might cover for him. Either way, they’d be prioritising an inner circle member.

And all of those get you bad endings. Especially the Snake choice to cover for Adachi.

What gets the good ending, the happy ending where the MC is fulfilled and at peace, is to ignore all the emotion that’s running so high, and order everyone to step back and take time to think about whether the theory of Namatame being the killer makes sense. Pounce on the niggling little detail that doesn’t fit, and realise that the assumption everyone is labouring under isn’t true. And then prioritise the actual truth over personal loyalties or emotional reactions.

Bird Primary.

Because of course. This is a detective story. Your party are called both the Investigation Team and the Seekers of Truth. Even the title song hints at it; find the truth (Bird) by getting together with others (Badger).

Yosuke Hanamura’s a young, immature Snake Primary at game start, with the selfishness typical to that. His Shadow throws that back in his face, and he realises he doesn’t like being an asshole whose secret gut reaction to murders happening is ‘well at least I’m not bored anymore now something is happening in this dead-end town’.

So he does two things pretty much at the same time; he widens his inner circle to let in first Souji and then the rest of the IT, and he adds a model on top to let him care about things outside that circle. I think it’s a Lion model-a young Lion, just like his Snake, that edges into Glory Hound, but keeps hold of the idea that you should do certain things because they’re just right.

(It’s not based on the MC, though the MC is undoubtedly his most important person, who he even calls his partner. But then, as I said, the MC’s Bird is very quiet, so it’d be hard for Yosuke to perceive it well enough to mimic it. I think it’s actually based on Chie, who is after all the inner circle member he has known longest!)

And his secondary? Yosuke’s a support guy. He lifts his friends up. His family run Junes, and he leverages that connection to create a base location for the IT and secure a portal into the TV world that’s big enough to be usable. When Teddie comes to the human world, it’s Yosuke who gives him a place to stay. He’s a Badger secondary, and again, this makes perfect sense. The Lover sorting. No wonder so much of the fandom ships him with the MC.

Chie Satonaka is LOUD and BRASH and if you are a jerk she will KICK YOU IN THE FACE. She is so goddamn Lion Secondary, and utterly unapologetic about it.

Her primary, I think, is Lion again. The reason she has gotten possessive of Yukiko (as her Shadow calls her out on) isn’t that she wants Yukiko to be just hers-it’s that she wants to be Yukiko’s knight. Saving the princess is actually a textbook Lion cause. It lets her feel heroic and brave.

But that’s not good for either of them. Damsel in distress is a shitty role, one that doesn’t allow Yukiko to be strong and capable herself, and Chie pushing Yukiko into that role is really straining their relationship. It’s also something that Chie herself knows is wrong-that’s why her Shadow accuses her of it. (“I am a Shadow, the true self...”)

So instead Chie changes gears, because oh look a new Cause just popped up! Find the killer and bring them to justice! And on top of that, there’s always sexist prats to kick.

Yukiko Amagi models Badger Primary, because it’s expected of her. Running an inn is a really Badger kind of job. She also models Badger Secondary, for the same reasons. She feels this is who she’s meant to be; sweet, gentle, socially adept, community-focused and hard-working. The traditional Japanese ideal of womanhood.

But it chafes. The weight of societal expectations feels crushing. She doesn’t want to do stuff just because she’s meant to, because people think she should. She’s an Internal Primary, and needs to follow the voice of her own heart.

And where that heart leads her...is back to the Amagi Inn, except now she’s decided that she’s doing this for herself. She needed to feel that she could actually choose to not inherit the inn, before she could realise that she wanted to run it. She’s a Snake Primary, and the inn is important to her because it’s hers.

Her secondary...actually I get the feeling she’s like Toph Beifong of Avatar, a Snake who likes to spend most of her time in neutral. She is delightfully quirky and weird, and owns that, but she doesn’t charge like a Lion and she’s comfy with wearing masks when the situation calls for it.

Kanji Tatsumi panics at the idea that he might be gay, and caretakes like a boss, and that might look at first sight like a Double Badger who’s scared that he might be one of the people he’s used to dehumanising. His Shadow screams that it wants to be accepted...but what calms it is when Kanji himself accepts it, and says that this resolution is about being true to himself. Kanji’s a Double Lion who burnt his primary because being given shit for the feminine, queer-coded parts of himself made him lose faith in his internal compass, worrying that it was leading him somewhere that he viewed as bad. Internalised homophobia’s a bitch of a thing.

Accepting his Shadow is the start of Kanji healing his primary-letting go of shame for being an oddball and telling the world to go fuck itself if it thinks it can make him conform. He does model Badger Secondary-as I said, he caretakes like a boss-but that’s more a thing he does as a gift to others. When it comes to solving problems, he charges in swinging, ready to beat up anyone from biker gangs to otherworldly monsters.

Rise Kujikawa is a cheerful, shameless Snake Primary, loving and ambitious. She became an idol to make friends, and enjoys the fame it gets her. And when she needs to take a break for the sake of her mental health, she has no compunctions about doing so.

But she needed that break because the idol life was stressing her out-unsurprisingly, it’s a really intense life. And the particular problem she had was to do with the conflicting expectations the public has of celebrities. Perfection is demanded...but so is authenticity.

Rise realised that she was face-shifting as an integral part of her career, and this knowledge sent her into a tailspin. The fans don’t like the real Rise Kujikawa-they like Risette. But who is the real Rise Kujikawa? She doesn’t know! It’s frightening! What if she’s just made of smoke and mirrors? How does she find out what’s underneath?

And the answer she comes to is that there is no real Rise Kujikawa...which is the same as saying that there is no false one. Rise is Risette is Rise, it’s all just her, adapting to the context as she needs to. She’s a Badger Secondary, and the act of performance is the true self.

And for her, that’s a good answer-it brings her peace. But now we need to talk about Teddie.

Because just hearing Rise say ‘there’s no real me’ sends Teddie into a Shadow crisis right there.

He completely fucking loses it. He’s a denizen of the TV world-he’s been immune to it all this time, never manifesting a Shadow, but this is what breaks him. And that just screams Bird Lion. It’s his Buzz Lightyear moment-or rather his first Buzz Lightyear moment, because there are two. This is the first, and he survives it by retreating into his Secondary. It allows him to bring Shadow Teddie under control...but this isn’t sustainable. He’s realised something terrible and can’t avoid that knowledge indefinitely.

And soon enough he admits it to himself (and to the MC). He is a Shadow, that somehow became self-aware. His Truth was never true. He can’t handle it, he has no idea how to even exist, and he outright tells the MC that he intends to commit suicide.

He recovers, though-and he does so because the MC tells him Nanako survived. That’s the first thing that gives him a glimmer of hope, because his Truth already had some Snakey elements in there about chosen people and ambitions. He comes back from the brink, reshapes his system to centre those Snake principles, and returns to the side of his friends.

Lastly, Naoto Shirogane, our other queer-coded character. (I’m using she pronouns for the sake of canon here-but I’m a firm believer in nonbinary Naoto, for the record.) I think she’s a Bird secondary-the only one of those here, jeez. She’s just so analytical. She’s a rapid-fire Bird too, Detective Prince working on a case, squarely in the middle of her comfort zone. But push her out of it-into a normal teenager social situation, say-and watch her squirm!

She has a Bird Primary performance, too. But performance is the operative word here. She’s trying to look adult and smart and collected, in order to be taken seriously by the police officers she works with. And she is smart, mind you, but that’s not the why of her though it is the how. It’s not Naoto who goes ‘wait, let’s think about this, we need more information’ at the crucial point, but the MC, who really is a Bird Primary. Naoto was the one to suggest doing a little vigilante justice vis-a-vis murdering Namatame.

Her real Primary is Lion. Being a detective is a Cause for her, not a Truth, and she is blazingly certain of her own sense of what’s right-so much so that she doesn’t stop and check it against other people’s. And she inspires people! She doesn’t even mean to, and certainly doesn’t know why, but she is just so cool that people flock to her and admire her. ‘The Detective Prince’ is, when you think about it, a really Lion Bird kind of title!

Her Shadow has two issues with her. First, it harps on the gender angle. Hey, self, there’s that thing about your identity that you’ve been refusing to think about! You need to go poke at it! And then it breaks down into a scared child. Self, your performance is eating you alive. You need to do it, yes, the Cause demands it, but you also need to be able to stop sometimes and let yourself have emotions!

In short:

MC/Souji/Yu: Bird primary, Badger secondary

Yosuke: Snake primary, Badger secondary, models Lion primary

Chie: Lion primary, Lion secondary

Yukiko: Snake primary, Snake secondary, with Badger primary and secondary models that start out pretty unhealthy for her. 

Kanji: Lion primary that starts out burnt and begins to unburn after his Shadow fight, Lion secondary. Models Badger secondary.

Rise: Snake primary, Badger secondary

Teddie: Bird primary, Lion secondary. Falls dramatically and recovers by shaping his system to be more Snakelike.

Naoto: Lion primary, Bird secondary, performs Bird primary

[moral-turpitudes]

College Headcanons: Modern!Peaky Blinders Edition

Part 1 | Part 2

Grace Burgess:

Major: Criminal Justice Minor: Fashion Merchandising

10/10 would join a sorority. She has the look and loves the parties.

Has beauty and brains, surprisingly.

Works part time as the barista at Starbucks.

Loves sticking her nose in people’s business so her major is pretty fitting.

She loves a challenge so when she gets to know Thomas Shelby, she knows he’s gonna be fun to figure out.

Studies a decent amount but uses her spare time to try to look into the Shelby’s and why they practically run campus. A little birdy told her about them.

Knows Tommy’s coffee order by heart.

Always DTF.

Is suspicious of Tommy’s inability to use technology but goes along with it cuz she wants to get to know him more.

Didn’t think she’d fall for the mysterious man with a smoking problem but here we are.

When introduced to his family, she asked too many questions about their finances and such, making them think she worked for the cops or something.

Polly still didn’t trust her despite it being a while since they first dated.

Her professor likes her, and encourages her to keep investigating as part of her project on corrupt institutions. Only her professor is a little too enthusiastic. She passes the class, but tells Tommy about him being creepy from time to time.

The next day the professor isn’t there. Hmm. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Almost fought a guy who spilt his coffee on her new dress.

Dreams of being well-off and having a fashion line of her own. Envying Ada’s knack for clothing.

Gets drunk with her sorority sisters on the weekends at the bar and does karaoke. It’s not the best, but she gets an A for effort.

About halfway through her junior year she has to leave cuz she’s dramatic and Polly may have blown her cover. So in a rash decision, she leaves Tommy on his own, making him have a fit and almost getting himself suspended but it’s fine. Polly tells him he’ll meet someone else.

Esme Lee

Major: Horticulture

Her friends all have crazy majors but she wanted something simple, so she chose horticulture. It also lets her get out of the dull college life for a while, or so she thought.

Knowing she can get her mind set on her studies, they decided to help her out and invited her to a frat party.

Everyone who was popular was there so she felt a bit out of place, until she met John randomly when she went to grab a drink.

She’s a wild one kind of like John so they mesh well together. They ended up getting drunk and dancing the night away, letting all their college worries leave them.

In her spare time she can be seen roaming campus with John or hanging out with her friends, and occasionally yelling at some people to get away from her plants at the schools gardening area.

She got along with the blinders really well, except she liked to challenge Tommy at times.

She may be small but she’s one hell of a yeller. She intimidated John the first time she yelled at him.

No one messes with her unless they want to be beaten up by her boyfriend.

Polly likes to chat with her about the business sometimes, sparing some of the details, but she knows Esme can be trusted, and besides, Esme can always force it out of John if it’s something too shady.

Apart from her social life, she does quite well for her studies, and runs a small etsy shop where she makes jewelry.

Her favorite part is uploading aesthetic photos of them to her insta and trying to get John to model for her pictures.

She, like the rest of the family, knew Grace was a snake, and always got bad vibes from Linda…smh.

When she heard news of Grace leaving, she shared a glance with John and did a happy dance internally. In regards to Linda, she wanted to claw her eyes out a bit but she held herself back. Linda would eventually get what came to her. Karma really is that bitch.

As time went on, she found herself agreeing on a whim to marry John, and later falling pregnant with her first of many children. But she’s fine with this situation as long as he helps her live her cottage!core dreams with a bunch of chickens running around while they raise their 10,000 kids.

Linda Shelby

Major: Agriculture

Minor: Religious Studies

Unhinged™

Joined a philanthropic sorority, so she mainly focuses on serving people at shelters and charities instead of serving looks at frat parties.

Claims to be a Christian.

Has the eye for anyone with a penis.

Spends most of her agriculture classes daydreaming about shooting Arthur.

Prays she has the knowledge to pass her exams instead of actually studying for them.

Just wants to live on a farm and be a housewife.

Gives off major bitch vibes no matter how many crucifixes she wears around her neck. Polly tolerates her, and so does the rest of the family, but it’s only a matter of time before someone snaps.

Textbook good-girl-gone-bad trope. Everyone knows her around campus for preaching about no sex until marriage but she be doing the nasty with her side-bae after prayer night.

Enjoys eavesdropping on the Shelby family’s conversations. She supplies Grace with information in exchange for free coffee.

Gaslighting is her second language, speaking in tongues is her third.

When she’s not planning things, she can be seen talking to Grace at Starbucks or stress-baking. She hooks her friends up with weed brownies and later switches to coke because of her boyfriend’s family *cough* Arthur.

Binge drinks on Saturdays and crawls to church on Sundays.

Gets clingy and manipulative at times.

Loves doing her religious studies homework in the chapel or the huge library on campus.

She’d do okay up until finals week, then she’d have many a break down that only cocaine could fix.

Drunk calls Arthur and lets it slip she’d been sleeping with someone the whole time they’d been together. Has 2 working braincells at that point.

He goes off on the dude as they both went to the same bible study. He begged for mercy in the middle of the church floor for Arthur to stop with the punches but we all know hell hath no fury like a person who’s been cheated on. May have almost killed him but it’s fine.

Linda finds him bleeding almost as much as Jesus did.

After crying to Grace on the phone, she snorts a couple lines and downs some shots and heads to Arthur’s dorm. Sos Linda’s got a gun.

Gets shot and lives to tell about it.

She leaves to find god perhaps after all this...or more coke, and just says “fuck it” to her degree. College isn’t for everyone, it’s ok Linda.

Poor Arthur is confused in the weeks leading to the shooting and Linda leaving. Isiah tried to warn him since he was her partner for some projects but he didn’t listen. He wanted to question Tommy’s barista bae about her too but she dipped tf out. The world may never know.

Lizzie Starke

Major: English

She’d taken up an assistants job at the business college and so she worked for nonother than Professor Polly Gray.

She got along with her well, and on Friday nights when she’d be invited out for drinks, she’d overhear Polly divulge one too many secrets about her business.

She kept her circle small so she never felt the need to tell anyone, also fearing that she wouldn’t live to see tomorrow if she did.

Polly trusted her with all her paperwork, often having to proofread and go over Tommy’s insanely long assignments and political debate notes.

Tommy would often be seen around the office, talking Polly’s ear off about business and legal issues, all while she’d get lost in his eyes as he spoke.

She knew she was out of his league, at least while Grace had him wrapped around her finger, but Polly said her day would come so she believed it.

In her spare time, she’d read poetry and sip tea, and on occasion try to teach Tommy about the world of laptops, but even she gave up after a while.

Her major took up a good deal of her time, constantly writing papers and re-reading books, but there was always one silver-lining. Tommy would often skip getting Finn’s help and go straight to her. He said it was because she gave good advice, but his demeanor said otherwise.

When he’d arrive, she’d notice him gradually improving his appearance, much like he did with Grace. And when he’d leave, Polly would shoot her a knowing look.

She may be quiet, but she’s smart, and knows when to make her moves, which both impresses Polly and intrigues Tommy.

Ends up being one of the only ones able to call Tommy out on his shit.

When she’s not around the Shelby’s she’s with her friends or hitting up bars and bookstores.

When she and Tommy finally get together, some students turned their heads at first, but they were good for each other in the long run, it just took Tommy longer to see it.

Gina Gray:

Major: Business Management

Minor: Fashion Merchandising

She came in the picture shortly after Grace’s departure. She was studying abroad but decided to come back for her business classes.

When she first laid eyes on Michael she knew he was the one, but she had to go through Polly, her professor first.

They dated for a while until he popped the question one weekend, leaving everyone in shock.

When she wasn’t fooling around with Michael, she could be seen around campus with her sorority sisters and some of her close friends. Since she was a fashion minor, she always made sure she was dressed to the nines and turned heads almost as much as Michael’s cousin Ada, almost.

Gives off bitch vibes 24/7. No one can really tell if she’s genuine in her feelings, not even Michael, poor bud.

His family thought she was suspicious like Grace, and Polly still can’t put her finger on why she feels she may have a trick up her embellished sleeves.

Michael tends to follow her like a lost puppy of sorts, but she loves the attention, and when he mentioned how his family worked she didn’t seem very phased by it, coming from a somewhat dysfunctional and power-hungry family herself.

She tries to study a decent amount but she’s always hanging out with Michael or getting herself into trouble with the cops when her sorority sisters throw parties.

She’s smart and very convincing, but Polly sees right through her, leading up to a very heated discussion between the two women after class one day.

It’s safe to say that her grades for Polly’s class are holding on by a thread, much like Polly is to her sanity.

She loves a game, whether that’s messing with people’s heads, or trying to beat her friends on game night. She always enjoys watching how they work through their problems, picking out the weakest ones in order to beat them while they’re down.

When she’s not scraping by in her business classes, she’s brainstorming fashion ideas for her numerous projects she’s left until the last minute. Somehow she’s passing the class with flying colors though.

Like Michael’s cousin Tommy, she’s always scheming over something, and so it’s only a matter of time before she fucks something up.

Aberama Gold:

Profession: Philosophy Professor

Side Job: Hitman

His teaching styles are eccentric, often taking the class on field trips to immerse them in the experience.

Goes on for hours about various stories and theories, often losing the class after 30 minutes.

Sometimes he gets called out of class by the teaching assistant because he got an “important” phone call.

“Important” phone calls mean hits and he can’t turn them down unless he wants beef with his rival gang members or people involved in the mafia.

For these reasons, he has two phones. One for his usual work and family, and one for the dirty work.

His son always teases him about having hella phones, but he ain’t no drug dealer, although he most definitely knows some by association.

Asks hard questions to his students and expects good answers.

Doesn’t believe in homework, but makes the classes very challenging and hard to skip.

In his spare time he helps out at the boxing ring, teaching his son the ropes and prepping him for competitions. Other times he helps Arthur and Finn train, all in an attempt to get them to mention their aunt Polly.

He’s in love with the woman but is a bit shy like his son. It takes him a bit to get the courage to meet her but once he does they hit it off.

Polly wasn’t turned off by his dangerous lifestyle, in fact she was turned on by it as she’s lived the same life.

When he wasn’t with Polly or helping his son, he could be seen roaming campus in his signature hat, resting in alleyways or leaving campus abruptly, obviously to go kill someone.

He’d often spend nights away from home alone in the forest, away from Polly and his family, using “philosophy research purposes” as an excuse so he could stake out targets.

He always kept his end of the bargain up, even when he had to deal with Polly’s family and their gangly family business.

Bonnie Gold:

Major: Sports Management

One of the more quiet, reserved students on campus. He can get mouthy when challenged though so watch out.

Would definitely hang with the art and english students, they’re chill.

Can be seen carrying his boxing gloves between classes and doing routine jogs around campus.

All the bitches love him but he only has his eyes on his future. He just wants to win his matches and then he’ll think about love, or so he says. He has the eye for someone in class though and it’s not long until his dad finds out.

He’s health-conscious af.

Has never eaten Ramen noodles a day in his life and doesn’t plan on it. Even if his friends Finn and Isiah try to bribe him. It’s one of the peak college experiences after all.

May have gotten drunk at a frat party and fought a tree.

Would throw hands if someone was being a dick to someone he cared about.

Takes his major seriously. He studies decently well given his dad is always on his ass about it, but when he’s done he goes to parties or hits the ring.

Often has his head in the clouds, dreaming of being a famous boxer, or at least managing a very successful sports team.

Helps his dad on hits. Not many people know this so it’s hush hush.

When he’s not shooting at his fathers enemies, he’s in the ring practicing for the big competitions.

Often spends weekends with his dad, helping to plan attacks and meeting with his blinder friends.

Almost got suspended for knocking out a couple guys cuz they insulted his father.

Attends his dads lectures just to keep an eye on things for him and because he actually finds the subject interesting. May also have a “thing” for a girl in the class but most likely won’t make a move because he’s shy af most times.

Isiah Jesus:

Major: History

Minor: Religious Studies

Despite his wild lifestyle, he likes learning about religions and how they all came to be, given his dad is a preacher.

He may not be a saint but he tries to do well in the classes at least.

Can be seen fucking around with his buds Finn and Bonnie, and going to one too many frat parties.

Finn and him would do lines of coke as soon as Arthur helped move a new supply in, and he’d try to bribe Bonnie to try it but he’d refuse and say he “has to stay clean for his matches.”

When he’s not doing coke or studying for his history or religion exams, he’s out helping the blinders on various jobs.

He often gets in trouble with security because he’s always sneaking about the dorms with some girls he met at parties.

Call it divine intervention, but he couldn’t help but feel something was “off” with the girl Arthur was seeing, cuz he’d gotten partnered up with her for some religion projects in the past and her ideas were concerning. He told Arthur to be careful but we all know what went down.

He likes joining the blinders on their business trips, often leaving his schoolwork until the last minute, just to get the opportunity to help in the business.

He and Finn rant about them not getting enough exposure to the family business but Polly quickly shoves the ideas from their heads saying they need to focus on school, at least then maybe the family could have some other potential.

Daydreams of being a full-blown leader like all the ones he’d read about in his history books. He often looks up to Tommy just as much as Finn does, which sometimes gets them both hurt.

He can be seen often at the ring training with Finn and Bonnie.

He sticks up for his family and friends, even if it means putting himself on the line. No one messes with him unless they want trouble from him and everyone he knows.

[neesieiumz]

All The Stars {Tamaki Amajiki x Reader} - Chapter 5

Summary: Tamaki has been a sidekick at Fatgum’s agency for four years, going up in ranks and becoming Fatgum’s right-hand man. That’s when a transfer hero comes in, Y/n L/n. Born and raised in Southern America, Y/n comes to Japan for a fresh start and interviews and aces Fatgum’s interview. Partnered with Tamaki and Fatgum to get used to Japan, Tamaki finds her interesting, and can’t help the fact he wants to get to know her. As Y/n’s past slowly gets revealed, will her demons allow the two of them to prosper? 

A/N: I KNOW, I KNOW I’M LATE!! But I really wanted to proofread this cause I don’t know if I’m setting this up as I want to... I want this story to last and I wanted it to grow which caused me to write over 4k words, which makes this the longest chapter yet, this is how long I want to keep my chapters so it may take longer to get them out, so I wanted make sure I have everything set up so without further ado...

Word count: 4k words

Chapter 5 - A new chapter

“Welcome everyone, take a seat and we can get started.” Fat gum greeted everyone as all the major pro heroes in the cities filed in and took their seats. 

Fat gum took a deep breath before turning to Tamaki and Kirishima who were the two sidekicks he brought to the meeting. 

“We’re here to discuss the arising group, who call themselves Resist, my two sidekicks Red Riot and Suneater can catch everyone up to speed. 

Tamaki looked at Kirishima who nodded and turned in the PowerPoint they both slaved over the last two weeks. 

“We’ve been noticing a rise in flame and explosive based attacks all across Japan. They usually happen in places like shopping malls, college buildings, places where a lot of people convene in a confined space basically,” Kirk started to explain, pressing the button to bring up different reports of buildings on fire which included Tadashi Shopping Center. 

Tamaki took over the presentation at this point, “we’ve noticed that in the reports we receive about these attacks, all of the opposition had these jackets with a symbol either etched on the back and the chest. We believe this is what Resist uses to distinguish themselves from other villains, and anything with this type of organization needs to be squashed before it can grow. We’ve seen this type of thing before,” He explained before narrowing his eyes. 

“We don’t want a repeat of what happened those years ago. It’s taken a long time to rebuild hero society and it’s still on the rocks.” Tamaki finished his part before looking back at Kirishima to continue. 

“Since we know what symbol they use to distinguish themselves, that allows us to see when they pop up in cities and how many times they do as well. From what I found out, they never popped up in cities more than two times except for one, here in Esuha city.” Using the IPad, he flipped through the city and a map of Japan popped up. 

In all the other major cities, they had either a one or a two except for one, Esuha City which had a nine beside its point.”

“Oh wow,” a hero mumbled.

“Nine attacks? That’s crazy,” a female hero said. 

Tamaki started to speak, “with this, we hypothesize that Resist’s HQ is somewhere in the underground of Esuha city. This is the only evidence that supports this, and will be one of the main objectives of this meeting, figuring out where they reside so we can take them down.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, so we don’t know where they are?” A pro hero, Nova, asked, looking at Tamaki with skepticism. 

Kirishima stepped in, noticing Tamaki beginning to crack, needing a few minutes to collect himself again, he can only go so long before his thoughts intrude. 

“We only have an idea, the Fat Gum Agency already has heroes and sidekicks staking out possible locations where they might be but there’s always a chance that this lead may lead us nowhere. This leads us to one of the purposes of this meeting!” Kirishima ended with a smile and a thumbs up. 

His contagious smile made Tamaki feel a little better and he stood a little straighter and tapped the IPad to bring up the next slide. 

“The way they’ve been attacking reminds me a lot of The League of Villains and we all know how they’ve left a stain in Japan’s trust in Hero Society. Some of us in this room knew how hard it was fighting them,” Tamaki lamented, looking over at his partner and they both slightly nodded.

“We lost a lot of lives and a lot of good heroes with them, and we were lucky to prevail from that fight but everything changed with that fight. The fragile state that All Might left the country was crushed and the public hated most heroes. We need to squash any threat to what we’ve built over the years and that starts with Resist,”

 Kirishima and Tamaki remember the fight with the LOV, the screams, the blood, the bodies, the cleanup, the tears, waking up in a cold sweat for months on end. Tamaki remembers lifting some debris and seeing a bloody Barbie doll and throwing up in an empty alleyway. 

Both of them did not want to go through that again. 

“Okay, we get it, but honestly I just don’t see how this “Resist” organization is any trouble. They’re just blowing up buildings without any objective.” Another random local hero spits out, leaning against his arm. 

“You idiot!” 

Kirishima and Tamaki slightly smirked at who spoke up. The six-foot Explosion Hero: Ground Zero stood up, glaring at the man who just spoke up. 

“The League of Villains were like that too, just destroying with no objective, then they found one and that’s why heroes are looked at as fucking trash!” Katsuki Bakugou spoke up, slamming his hand on the desk. 

After Best Jeanist retired, he entrusted his agency to the loud ash blond man which shocked the rest of his sidekicks. Since then, he’s been his hero, signing on Denki and Mina after they had no agency to take them in. 

“I would know, me and Shitty hair,” he said, pointing at Kirishima, “we were there for a lot of them. We were also there when they found a purpose and that’s when they took me when I was still the first year. We underestimate them as we did with LOV and it could grow into a situation that we don’t want to see! Shouldn’t you fucking know this shit already?!” Bakugou finished before sitting down after Denki tried to calm him down. 

“Calm down Ground Zero, don't want you popping a blood vessel,” a cold voice called and everyone’s attention turned to the Half and Half hero who took over his Father’s agency once he graduated. 

After his father’s career was shot after the fight, his agency fell apart since Todoroki was still a first year. But as soon as he graduated, most of his father’s old sidekicks came back to him and his father even left the building to him. Deciding that he only knew his father since he interned and did his work-study there, he decided to revamp the agency as his own and remove the bad memories since then. 

“Come on guys, let’s not fight, this is a serious matter,” came the nervous voice Deku, the one everyone was looking at as the one who would replace All Might. 

He was the only one out of his class to start a hero agency right out of high school without having to inherit it, the rest of them becoming sidekicks. Izuku Midoriya replaced Hawks as the youngest pro hero ever. 

“Shut up Deku!” 

Kiri shook his head and facepalmed at his alumni antics. 

“Somethings don’t change, huh Kirishima?” Tamaki whispers to him which made the Unbreakable hero sigh and nod. 

“Alright!! Let’s get back on topic!” Kirishima yelled, clapping his hands to get the attention of his old classmates. 

“Sorry Red.”

“My apologies.”

“Tch, whatever Shitty Hair.”

Kirishima let out a breath of relief before looking over at Fat gum to take over the rest of the meeting. Fat gum nodded before smirking and rubbing his hens together. 

“Let’s get started.”

***

Tamaki was ready to go home. Everyone was arguing about the best next steps to take to defeat this new organization and so far, no one was agreeing. Some wanted to start their investigations in their cities but some wanted to blow up every building until the “Resist Turds” showed themselves so we could kill them. 

Tamaki sighed as he slouched in his chair, listening to his boss and other pro heroes argue about their next move. 

“We can’t ignore this issue anymore, but that doesn’t mean we lose morals when it comes to this. Heroes and the public still have a rocky relationship and we can’t get into anything rash!” 

“What?!? What’s waiting? I say we find them right now and smoke them out!” 

“You haven’t changed at all.”

Tamaki looked over to the clock and noticed it was getting real close to 3:00 pm, they’ve been here for almost 2 hours and some of these hero’s had long trips to get to. Tamaki tapped Kirishima and Gat gum and showed them the time. Fat gum slammed his hands against the desk before standing up, effectively silencing the room of arguing heroes. 

“We need to decide before we get overtime and something happens in your cities. So what’s our verdict, because this isn’t the only meeting we’ll have, we’ll have more in the future that we need to prepare for,” Fat gum said. 

Everyone refused to look at each other in the eye, that was before Deku decided to speak up. 

“If so many, I believe that their HQ could be possibly located here end think that the Fat Gum Agency should focus all resources in finding said hideout, but that doesn’t mean that the rest of us shouldn’t look for clues,” He said, pointing to the screen. 

“For those whose cities that were only hit once, keep an extra eye out if they ever come back. Those cities who were hit twice, you all should go back to where they hit you and see if they left behind any clues. They aren’t as organized right now so now’s the time to stop them and give the public something to believe in again!” 

And just like that, like the future Number One Hero he was destined to be, he raised everyone’s spirits in this new mission. To eradicate the Resist before they gain a name as big as LOV.

Y/n sighed as she walked in the building, headphones blasting a Megan song. She waved hi to the receptionist before turning the corner and jogging to her office. Sipping in her She opened the door and turned the light to reveal her office. She’s been so busy with the rise of villains since the two months she’s been here, that she hasn’t had a chance to finally decorate her office the way she’s wanted to. She paused her music and pulled out her headphones to be able to take a better look at her workspace. 

It had a window in the right wall of the room and her desk right in front of, facing the front of the room. The walls were bare and painted white and the room littered with unopened boxes from things she ordered. She looked down at the bag of decorations she recently bought to complete the rest and smiled. 

“Alright, I got 2 hours before the meeting with Fatgum and the other heroes. I better finish this before then,” she mumbled to herself before walking over to the biggest Amazon box. 

She turned on her speaker and connected them to her phone before continuing the song she was listening to while she was walking in the agency. 

’Simon says, put your hands on hips’

She rapped along the song under her breath as she cut open the box that was her storage shelf. As she was pulling the wrapped contents, a knock sounded off from her door. It was so quiet that she almost couldn’t hear over her music. She lowered the volume before opening her door. 

Standing outside of it was Tamaki who was dressed in very casual clothes, a pair of jeans, and a white tee shirt. Y/n stood there surprised, not expecting the Manifest hero to stand outside her door. Last she heard of him, he was working with Fat gum with a major mission. But that's what she heard. 

“Amajiki-san! This is a surprise? What brings you here?” 

Tamaki jumped at her sudden answer but collected himself, “I have something to talk to you and Aoi-san, is he here?” 

Y/n shook her head, stepping out the way for him to allow him inside her office.

“Today’s both of our days off, he went to see his mom and I decided to use this to come in to finally set up my office after two months of being here!”

“No, no it's my fault, I should have contacted you before I came over,” he shook his hands in front of his face. 

She waved him off, “It’s okay, I wasn’t doing anything important. So what’s going on?” 

She hopped on her desk and sat down and gestured for Tamaki to come closer. Tamaki hesitated to say anything, but time was of the essence and Fatgum didn’t tell Tamaki that the pair had the day off. He was about to start to speak but he looked around the room and noticed different boxes scattered around the room and looked back at Y/n who was bending down to pick up tape she threw around the room. Tamaki’s ears turned red and he quickly looked away right as she stood up. 

“Sorry it’s a mess,” she huffed, balling up the tape, “I wasn’t expecting for me to have any guests.”

He waved her off, “no it’s fine? What’s with all the boxes anyway?”

Y/n walked over to the biggest box and turned it around to show the picture of her bookcase shelf which still wasn’t open. Tamaki saw this and looked around and saw other office supplies and decorations still wrapped in plastic and packing peanuts all over the floor. 

“I decided to use my day off to finally decorate my office the bay I wanted it to be, but I may have… overspent on somethings,” she trailed off sheepishly, taking in how many boxes were in the room. 

Tamaki saw how exasperated she was, it would take her a long time to assemble the shelf and it's already 2:30 pm. He was all finished with his paperwork and was gonna go home after telling the partners before going home. He wasn’t even that tired after all. So with a deep breath, he called out Y/n as she was cleaning the peanuts away from the chairs to give them a place to sit. 

“Hey, Y/n?”

She stopped, loving her things, and turned to look at Tamaki, “yes?”

“I have the rest of the day off, I’d… I’d be more than happy to help you with your office. If... if you’d let me?” His voice got significantly quieter as he spoke. 

Y/n’s eyes brightened up, running over to take Tamaki by the hands. 

“Really!”  She exclaimed, pulling him closer to her body. 

Tamaki blushed at this sudden movement, “tried” to move his body and nodded his head, yes to confirm what he asked her. Y/n squealed before pulling the violet-haired man in a full-blown hug. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am honestly CLUELESS when it comes to putting things together and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to do it! This helps so much! Thank you!”

Tamaki’s face went red as a cherry as he tried his best to make his words conceit but his thundering heart, increasing body temperature, and his burning ears made that quite difficult to do. He gave her his best smile and she gave him an even bigger one back before dragging him to the biggest box. 

“Let’s get this over with, it’s the hardest one here.”

Together, the two of them opened the box and started taking the parts out. While the two of them set up her office, they got to know each other more, from him telling her about her times as a pro hero in America. 

“Yeah, America is so different from Japan,” she mused, ripping open the smaller boxes, “Here you get your license from the Hero Commission which is a branch under the Federal Government. You can work anywhere in the country! In America, you can only be licensed in the state you take your test in!” Y/n explained, grabbing the instructions to see which parts she had. 

“Wait, how many states are in America? I know there’s a lot,” Tamaki asked, making Y/n giggle and cover her mouth. 

Y/n shook her head, “there’s fifty of them, and I could only work in Texas, where I’m from.”

Tamaki shook his head, “but what if you’re out of the state and an emergency appears and they need help?”

Y/n shrugs, “I have to leave it to the heroes there, interfering could cause me to lose my job.” She laid out all the parts and counted in her head to make that all the parts were here. 

“When I’m not in my licensed state, I’m just a simple civilian with no permission to use their quirk.”

“America’s really different from Japan, I should have known though,” Tamaki let out a little chuckle as he said that. 

“Yeah, just the size of Texas is bigger than Japan. A different system is to be expected I guess,” Y/n shrugged her shoulders. 

She picked up the boards and the poles and started putting them together but for some reason, it wouldn’t go in. Feeling frustrated, she continued to struggle with the pieces, confused as to why they weren’t going in the hole. 

“Stupid piece of,” she hissed under breath as she continued to struggle, “you doing too much for me, just go in the thing!”

Hearing her mumble under breath in English, Tamaki turned around from building his own part to seeing Y/n struggle. He smiled slightly before getting up and walking to her. Y/n saw him move over to her and before she could process it, he grabbed the pieces from her. 

“No, I think it goes over here,” Tamaki reached over behind Y/n and flipped the pole, and slid it in the hole with no problem. 

Y/n smiled at Tamaki as he did the rest of the poles, doing it effortlessly. He was about to screw everything in whenY/n stopped him.

“I can do this part but thank you!” She grabbed her screwdriver from him and before she knew it, she placed a kiss on his right cheek. 

Oh lord, Y/n thought, her head running wild, oh lord, oh lord, oh lord, what the fuck did I do?!!? Why the fuck did I kiss him???? Well, it was only on the chek, BUT FUCKING STILL!!

Tamaki was frozen, his face red. His heart pounded in his chest, and he stood there frozen. She just kissed him on the cheek, a kiss, her lips were on some part of his body. His face, his right cheek. A girl, a girl he liked. 

Y/n on the other hand took a deep breath before going back to her unfinished bookcase and continuing as if nothing happened. Tamaki looked at her quietly putting her shelf together before Tamaki decided he should do the same. They both didn’t mention what happened.

---

“Oh yeah, Tamaki what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” Y/n asked him, using the screwdriver to carefully tighten the screw in her new desk. 

Tamaki was pulled out of his thoughts, looked at her confused, before remembering what he had to talk to them about. Why he even came to her office in the first place. 

“It concerns both you and your partner, I was hoping he would be here with you since I didn't see him in his office,” Tamaki replied, standing up and stretching his back. 

“He’s using his day off to visit his mom,” she said, remembering the conversation they had while he dropped her off, “he hasn’t seen her in a while and he said he’s finally caught up with paperwork so yeah,” 

Tamaki nodded, not caring about what Aoi did. 

“But I’m sure I can relay to him what’s going on, so what’s up?” She asked, leaving on her desk for support from being on her feet all day. 

Tamaki nodded, “It’s about a case I’ve been working on, you remember your debut fight and the explosion at Tadashi Center right?” Tamaki started, going in his bag and pulling out his flash drive with a conceded version of his and Kirishima’s presentation. 

Y/n nodded, tilting her head at the question. He handed her the flash drive and began explaining what the mission was about and its ties to her debut fight and the attack in Tadashi Center

“We believe that the people who attacked during those two times are a part of the same organization, looking to gain the same infamy that the League of Villains gained. You know about the League right?”

She nodded, “anyone who has access to news worldwide knows who they are. They left a hole in Japan’s hero society, a ginormous one.” 

Tamaki nodded, “and we believe this group is trying to continue what they left and destroy society as we know it. This is what I’ve been working on for a while and we are finally making some moves. This is where you and Aoi-San come in,” Tamaki reported. 

“Comes in?”

Y/n used her fingers to replicate quotes as she said this. Tamaki nodded. 

“Your quirk is the most effective, the ability to swallow fire and make it your own, you’ll become a big help if more explosions ever come up. Aoi-San comes as extra backup, never go wrong with extra hands, c-considering he’s your part-partner,” Tamaki finishes, sweating profusely when he mentions Aoi as your partner. 

“So out of the sidekicks here, you want me and Aoi to join you?” 

Tamaki nodded, “we’ll have other heroes from other agencies join us, we didn’t want to take any chances with them, so we made sure that we made other heroes who were affected aware of this. This was a last-minute decision made by Fat gum after seeing reports on how you were able to put out the flames in less than 5 minutes. ”

Y/n stared at him with a look he didn’t recognize, he could feel his heart pound at that. 

Oh no, did I say something wrong?!? Oh no, I didn’t mean to offend her, what do I do?! This so weird, why the fuck do I do- Tamaki’s thoughts started to overrun him again, he almost fell into the deep put before hearing low chuckles echo through the office which pulled him out of his thoughts. 

Tamaki looked at Y/n with confusion as she continued to laugh. She then stopped laughing and jumped off the desk and stretched her back out. 

Y/n nodded her head in understanding, mumbling under her breath, “that makes sense.” 

Tamaki perked up, “so you’ll join us?”

Y/n blinked at him, confused at what he said, “I had a choice?”

It was Tamaki’s turn to look at her confused, why would she think she doesn’t have a choice in this? Tamaki ignored this and just nodded his head. Y/n smiled at that and gave him a thumbs up. 

“I’m all in! And I’m sure that Aoi would be perfectly okay with it, I’ll make sure of it!” She exclaimed. 

Aoi? He thought to himself, deflating slightly before giving Y/n a last nod and turning to leave. As he did that, he heard a gasp and Y/n asking for him to wait. Tamaki turned back around, heart pounding in anticipation and he started to sweat. 

“Ye-yes?” He stumbled out, cursing at himself. 

She smiled before handing him her phone with ‘New Contact’ pulled up.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for your number for a while because I think your quirk would be very suitable for some training together?” She smiled, crossing her arms. 

Tamaki still didn't say anything as she pushed herself up from leaning against her desk and picked up her phone. She typed away at it before handing it to him. 

He stared at it confused before realizing he was supposed to put his number in it. He quickly grabbed the phone and typed in his number and his name before handing it back to her. 

“H-here you go.”

Y/n smiled and took her phone back, tapping away at it before putting it away, “thanks! I’ll text you?” 

Tamaki's eyes widened and his ears went cherry red, “yeah, just...just text me.” He stumbled out before heading to the door

[og-danny-dorito]

[ 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐉𝐨𝐉𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 ]

———————————————————————

[ 𝐀/𝐍 ] straight up pulled these out of my ass at like 1-2 am but here u go anyway

———————————————————————

𝐉𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐮𝐣𝐨 :

- consistently smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne but he has the common sense not to buy axe since it reminds him of the middle schoolers in his school

- cant fucking cook to save his life because he refused to sit down and let Holly teach him. he suffers the consequences his first week in college and ends up eating dinner there for a month since he’s broke

- literally only smokes Marlboro Reds. like he’s super fucking picky about his cigarettes and it carries on for the rest of his life

- i can’t 100% tell what his sexuality is but i know he isn’t straight (it’s a gut feeling i just k n o w)

- i know everyone says he fucks but like,,, the concept of him having only dated jolyene’s mom rather than having multiple past partners and just marrying her like all the white southern people do with their “highschool sweethearts” in my area SENDS me

- i like to think that he’s bilingual since he grew up around his gramps and holly speaking it all the time so it’s kinda normal for him to stare into the distance for 2 hours straight trying to figure out the english word for “salt” during dinner with his english-speaking grandparents

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐤𝐢 :

- BI-CON no you cannot convince me otherwise thank you very much

- probably has a male leaning preference tho cause like his vibe just screams “twink” to me for some reason

- he somehow speaks better english than jotaro (who’s grown up bilingual) and constantly likes to show it off by having conversations with his mom in front of him

- absolutely feral when playing videogames. like if you’re playing mario kart with him do NOT expect him to go easy on you since you’re a friend. in fact he might be even more competitive and a whole ass cheater by “accidentally” bumping into you while you’re trying to avoid a banana peel or some shit like that

- he likes cherries the most, but he pretty much likes any red fruit anyway. like he literally won’t eat any fruit that isn’t red, just because he doesn’t find it appealing. it’s been like this since he was a kid and his mom is still pissed off about it

- kinda insecure about his body since he’s thinner than the rest of the crusaders but polnareff makes sure to ABOLISH that shit since kakyoin is the Skinny Legend none of them could ever be. polnareff is basically his hype man when he feels unattractive no cap

- literally hates the way cigarettes smell and has complained about it enough to get Jotaro to finally put on some fucking cologne to mask it (even tho it does a shitty job) but it’ better than being suffocated by the smell of smoke all the time

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧-𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐟 :

- a pansexual icon, and likes to constantly clarify that by merely existing

- def the hype man of the group. like in the last one where i mentioned that he hypes up kakyoin when he’s feeling insecure?? yeah its not just limited to kakyoin (even though he arguably needs it the most probably)

- notices and compliments ever new piece of clothing any of them get and gives tips for their wardrobe unprompted (that being said he would literally fucking die if he saw part 6 jotaro’s snake skin print pants)

- can COOK okay like this man can make a 3 course meal blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back and it still comes out looking straight outta master chef. he can also grill, but not as well as joseph can obviously

- LOVES chubby girls like,,, its not a fetish thing he just LOVES chubby girls with all of his heart

- beats the shit out of anyone who makes a r*pe/misogynistic joke in his presence with absolutely no exceptions

𝐌𝐮𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐀𝐯𝐝𝐨𝐥 :

- s o m f t,,, s o m f t  h u g s. like he’s just the warmest dude, and he smells so nice and has such a nice voice that reverberates in his chest- like if he sings you to sleep while you lay in his arms you might as well die right then and there because you’ve reached heaven

- probably smells like sage and chai tea with a hint of cinnamon in there. it’s v calming tbh like he basically feels like what you think home would be if it were a person

- gorgeous, but very VERY uncontrollable hair. like it’s v curly and thick and stuff and so he ties it in bantu knots so it doesn't bother him. he’ll let it loose sometimes just so he doesn't end up having breakage or anything like that, but if he’s actually trying to be productive he has to tie it up somehow

- i personally believe in puffy ponytail avdol supremacy thank you very much

- names all of the chickens. yes, all of them. and he remembers every single one of their names too

- theres a v v common headcanon that he’s Muslim and honestly? i don’t know much about Islam but i still think it’s cool regardless

𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 :

- ya’ll thought he’s matured since he’s older now? lmao NO- he still does dumb shit all the time and i honestly doubt that it’s ever going to change. he’s a himbo for life ya’ll

- really likes film noir movies!! like the old shit is probably always going to be his go-to, but he also likes modern noir stuff too just because it’s so cool to him. highkey quotes lines from the movies when investigating something too and gets so excited when someone recognizes it

- i hate to fucking say it but i KNOW this man says “gracias” at Mexican restaurants to a) embarrass the fuck out of jotaro and b) because it’s canon that he has quote on quote “frequent failures at blending with the local culture and his struggle at battling Stands are a constant source of humor” (see the Joseph Joestar Wiki Page) and i plan to use that to the fullest of it’s capacity even if its a stretch

- highkey knows he’s a gilf but like refuses to let out the information that he has knowledge of modern lingo. he’d much rather use it incorrectly to make The Youth uncomfortable

- can actually use technology really well?? like you’d expect him to be a boomer about it but he’s knowledgeable to be able to help younger people with their phone problems (mostly courtesy of Hermit Purple)

- would die for some soul food at any given moment thank you very much 😌

[ ~𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!~ ]

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary:   Stretch asked Edge where his newest acquisition came from. Time for explanations.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

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Read it here!

~~*~~

That Morning

The first task Edge had to accomplish was trying very hard not to vomit. No matter how he tried to brace for it, going through one of his brother’s shortcuts always sent his equilibrium into a tailspin that left him retching on his knees at the other side.

Red only stepped to the side, mouth curling in distaste. “bro, you ever gone get over that? seriously, it’s embarrassing to have you yakking on your boots whenever we need a quick exit."

"Fuck off,” Edge rasped out, gagging back another heave. He took a slow, deep breath, another, and then staggered back to his feet, “If you’d care to quit bitching about my issues with motion sickness and tell me why you brought me here, we can get this over with. Where are we, anyw—” He paused, for the first time getting a good look at their surroundings.

That morning, Edge wasn’t halfway through checking the traplines when his brother appeared, stepping out from nowhere directly in front of him as he never did. For once, his sharp, careless grin was absent and in its place were clenched teeth and grim words. “got something i need to show you, boss.”

Edge hadn’t hesitated to go with him. Much as his brother appreciated a terrible joke or a worse prank, Edge trusted him with his life and that unusual seriousness left him equal parts reluctantly intrigued and worried.

A few hasty steps, a shortcut, and a bout of nausea later, and Edge was beginning to rethink that trust.

He whirled around and asked in a furious whisper, “Have you lost your moronic little mind?”

“nah,” Red shrugged, rolling his shoulders lazily and turned to walk down a long, dimly lit hallway. “no more than usual, anyway. c’mon, this way.”

There was little choice but to follow him. Overhead, the fluorescent bulbs sputtered and flickered, flashes of lightning from a manufactured storm illuminating the trash and filth that lined the walls, giving them a setting that was perhaps better suited for the horror movies that Papyrus was so fond of. The comparison wasn’t far off; no sane Monster came anywhere near Alphys’s lab, which would certainly explain why his brother brought them here. It must be something like insanity on both their parts, on Red for coming and Edge for staying.

Edge followed after his brother with carefully silent steps. He wasn't worried about Alphys seeing them on her cameras, they never seemed to work around Red, but that wouldn't help them if she walked right in on them as she investigated some careless noise.

Red didn’t seem to have the same compunction; his sneakers trod heavily, untied laces dragging through the filth. His rough chuckle seemed to echo around them, carrying them along, “heh, you know what’s funny? i still know my way around in here. can’t remember where i put my fucking wallet most days, but an internal map of this shitheap, i got no problems. funny how some things stick.” He kicked aside a moldy ramen cup, a fouled plastic spoon skittering out of it. “i keep tabs on ol’ al, you know. i ain’t sticking my neck out, but i like to keep my nose hole poked into whatever she’s been gettin’ up to down here. just lately, she's been going through the old scientist’s shit, tryin’ to recreate some of his old experiments.”

“She’s been doing that for years,” Edge said, low. “What changed?”

Red stopped outside the door and an unexpected shudder went through his small frame, the rattle of his bones muffled beneath his heavy jacket. He straightened before Edge could so much as lay a concerned hand on his shoulder, twisting out of his reach with a casual indifference that was almost believable. “yeah, well, it ain’t the core she’s been workin’ on.”

Behind that door, the room was lit by a single bare bulb and in its incandescent glow, Edge could see several large, glass tubes filled with some sort of thick liquid lining the back wall, with wiring and pipes spidering out from them and across the ceiling. Beneath the bulb itself was a long steel table, starkly empty except for the unremarkable heavy cardboard box sitting directly in the middle of it. Red gestured sharply at it, though he didn’t approach it himself, and warily, Edge stepped forward to peer inside.

He caught his breath against the raw, painful lurch in his soul, a brief moment of sharp pain that left behind a peculiar numbness inside him.

Inside the box was a skeleton, so small that the perfect curve of its skull could easily be held in the palm of a hand. Its bones were bare, gleaming a soft ivory in the garish overhead light, its sockets were closed—no, her sockets, from the revealing arch of her pelvis. A female, a girl, a child, sleeping naked and alone in a dank room in a hidden, underground lab.

Edge’s gaze drifted over her, absorbing every detail, from the tiniest fingerbones and their delicate joints to the breadth of her small feet. His gaze caught on her lowest rib and held there, frozen. There, engraved on her tiny, fragile bone, was a number, fresh and chalky-white, particles of dust still clinging to it. Unthinkingly, Edge reached out to touch it with a shaking fingertip, his glove whispering across the bone, and he could nearly hear her screams of pain as an indifferent scientist carved their mark into her, as if she was nothing more than another piece of equipment, something new to break.

She stirred, her tiny face scrunching and her little legs drawing up as she mewled a protest, perhaps against his touch on the still-raw wound or perhaps against her callous nakedness, considering that there was a blanket carelessly tossed over the side of the box.

Edge picked up the blanket and something fell out of it as he did, landing at his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, saw what it was. A dingy little gown, thin from repeated washings, one that had surely been used before years ago,

(please let it be years ago)

The numbness in his soul was fading and what it left behind was something else entirely. Edge gritted his teeth hard enough to taste dust and gingerly slipped the gown on the baby, covering her bareness. Then he cautiously wrapped her in the blanket, swaddling her tightly, and gently settling her, still asleep, into the curve of his arm.

Behind him, Red shifted uncomfortably, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor. “boss? what are you do—?”

He broke off on a shout, jumping back as the first attack swept through the room. Heavy glass shattered, as loud as a gunshot, a flood of foul liquid gushing from the broken tubes even as Edge summoned another attack, another, equipment sparking and shrieking beneath the onslaught of jagged, blood-red bones.

“what the fuck are you doing!?" Red screamed, but Edge wasn’t listening. He couldn’t, all he could hear was the child screaming in his head as a number was carved into her, scarring her permanently, marking her as not her own.

‘S-3’

In one corner, a curl of rising smoke turned into a flame, yellow tongues licking at the trash surrounding them greedily. Smoke was filling the room, alarms beginning to blare as Edge turned on his heel and walked out.

“boss,” Red moaned out, nearly jogging to keep up with Edge’s long-legged stride. “you’ve lost your everfucking mind.” But his mouth began to curl, a savage grin spreading across his face as he summoned his own attack, bones flying through the air and there was nothing but broken glass, the alarms, and the steadily growing fire.

"we're gonna fucking die," Red grumbled as they made their way through the long hallways. But he followed along, wreaking his own destruction along the way.

~~*~~

“…and then we came here,” Edge finished. He didn’t look at Stretch, not at all sure what he would see in his face. Disgust, perhaps, for his lack of control, or horror that he very nearly led that world right here to the Swap brother’s doorstep. Better to look at the child, who was sleeping soundly in her little pillow nest. None of this was her fault, least of all her own creation, but it was all because of her, nonetheless.

What came from Stretch was a question so far from his expectations that at first, Edge couldn’t quite comprehend it. “so what’s her name?”

Edge’s head jerked up and he could only look at him blankly. He didn’t even realize his mouth was open until Stretch reached over and gently closed it with a nudge to his chin. He didn’t pull away, only looked at the baby out of the corner of his socket, her rounded little face relaxed in sleep and her small hands closed in lax fists. Nothing like a name came to him, she was only the child, a baby, how could he possibly…?

Perhaps his growing agitation showed on his face. The knuckle on his chin turned into a light touch on his cheekbone, drawing his gaze back to Stretch. “don’t worry,” Stretch said lightly, “there’s no rush on that. we’ll put our heads together and think of something.”

“She's my responsibility,” Edge blurted thoughtlessly, “This was my choice.” He winced even as he said it; it was true, but it wasn’t what he meant, he didn’t know how to say what he meant. This was his responsibility, his burden, but to call an innocent child a burden aloud was too repugnant to consider.

Stretch only nodded. "yep, she’s all yours, no one is taking her away.” Those simple words eased some of the agitation rising inside Edge, even as Stretch tilted his head to the side, offering him a lopsided smile, “that doesn't mean you have to slap away any helping hands, edgelord.”

“I…yes. You're right,” Edge exhaled shakily, reminding himself that he already owed Stretch a great deal, with more debt to come. “Thank you.”

“you don’t need to thank me for this. in fact, i really wish you wouldn’t,” Stretch climbed to his feet with a groan, pressing both hands into the small of his back as he lived up to his namesake, his joints letting out a satisfying series of pops. “c’mon, you should lay down. get some sleep, you look like hammered shit.”

Edge couldn’t help a faint chuckle. “Flatterer.”

“sexy hammered shit,” Stretch amended. “Come on.”

To Edge’s surprise, Stretch gently scooped up the sleeping baby, who never stirred, only snuggled into his arms as Stretch made his way upstairs to his bedroom. It was suspiciously clean; before all this Edge had been planning on visiting tonight and he could only look at the crisp, clean sheets with a sort of exhausted wistfulness that they would not be used as intended.

Stretch didn’t seem bothered to see his hard work go to waste. He flipped back the top blanket and settled the baby on the mattress, close to the wall. “hop in, edgelord, naptime.”

Realization that Stretch intended him to sleep with the child came slowly, and when it did, Edge took half a step back, balking, “What if I roll over on her? I could hurt her!”

Stretch snorted and shook his head. “you? don’t think so. me, maybe, but i so much as wiggle my big toe when we sleep together and you snap to attention. you’ll be fine, we’ll figure something else out later. c’mon, big guy, strip,” Stretch said teasingly, sweeping a hand across the sheets, “time for bed.”

“Don’t talk like that in front of the baby,” Edge grumbled, but he hesitantly obeyed, kicking off his boots and stripping down to his trousers. He left those on, it felt strange to sleep naked in someone else’s bed when they weren’t in it. His glare begged for Stretch to comment but he said nothing, only helped tuck the blankets around them as Edge settled in, being sure to keep a wary safe distance from the sleeping child before closing his own weary sockets.

“sleep well,” Stretch said, softly, and there was a soft brush across Edge’s forehead, like the shadow of a kiss. Soft footsteps made their way across the carpet, but Edge didn’t hear them. Despite his fears, he was asleep before Stretch even made it to the door.

tbc

[goulets]

Heartland

Chapter: 3/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Colin Wilkes, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas Rating: T (for now) Case Fic / Kid Fic a03 link

The library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to the baby. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for her one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

***

(dick)

Venice is a nightclub that has gone by many names during its Gotham tenure, and just as many owners. Dick has been undercover here at least twice, back when the club was catering to the wealthier patrons of Little Italy. The current management clearly hasn’t bothered with maintaining that exclusivity - the building is now shabby and outdated, even for this neighborhood. One thing that hasn’t changed, though, is the real draw of Venice, which is the illegal casino in the back rooms beyond the VIP lounge. Through all the club’s owners, the casino has always been run by the Falcones, and always frequented by the city’s most morally flexible elected officials. In the past four nights that Dick’s been staking the place out, he’s seen five judges, two city council members, and even the new police commissioner slipping out the back door into the alley, stinking of gin and cigar smoke and patting their coat pockets with an air of satisfaction. It’s good intel to have, Barbara’s told him. Always helpful to keep the files updated on who’s being bought and by whom. None of that really makes him feel better about the fact that he’s been staking this place out for four nights and still hasn’t managed to pin down their actual target.

It’s embarrassing, is what it is. He’s Nightwing, for God’s sake. He’s taken down whole Russian mobs in Bludhaven, and now he’s being completely eluded by a third-string Falcone no one’s even heard of.

Oracle had ID’d the doer of the Torres/Howard murders in a matter of hours, true to her word, and the ballistics had predictably matched up with a few other murders that the police never bothered investigating. Susanna “Susie” Falcone, a second cousin once removed with a rap sheet that puts many of her relatives to shame. Her name must still have some pull in political circles, because she’s only done time once, in spite of being indicted almost a dozen times. Gotta love good old fashioned judicial corruption, Jason had said. No one had been able to argue, looking at the number of charges dismissed.

All in all, it was supposed to be a fairly simple tag-and-bag. Once they’d found her place of work - officially, the Venice nightclub, unofficially, the family casino - he’d been tasked to track her, question her, and then turn her in to the police. He’d chosen his stakeout perch well, on a hotel roof high above the alley, he’d followed her, unseen, and so far, she’s given him the slip every freaking time. The woman has vanished through every doorway from here to Robinson Park, as only the most enterprising criminal can. Were this a different kind of case, Dick might have been impressed.

Instead, he’s annoyed, and having to compromise - his vantage point is lower, closer but more exposed in the thin shadows of a third story construction platform right above the alley. He can see the door to the club without any difficulty, but the moment he moves, he’ll be open to attack.

He’ll just have to move fast. Fortunately, that’s what he’s best at.

There’s a soft motion behind him, almost quiet enough to escape his notice entirely. It’s Jason - Dick hadn’t expected him to actually turn up. No doubt he’s here to make sure they finally succeed in catching their mark tonight, but he’s been so adamant about not leaving Danielle with anyone except Dick that it’s still a surprise to see him. What’s equally surprising to Dick is that he was apparently hoping Jason would show, if the relief he feels at seeing him is anything to go by.

It’s a nice moment of solidarity, until Jason opens his mouth. “So, fourth night’s a charm, huh?”

Dick bristles. “What happened to not leaving the baby?” he retorts.

Jason bristles back, but doesn’t rise to the bait. It’s a little wrongfooting - a reminder that things are changing between them. Dick is used to the veneer of antagonism that hangs over his relationship with Jason, the unresolved tension they both pretend not to notice. They’d gotten into a pretty good groove when he was acting as Batman, staying out of each others’ way for the most part, and working together when necessary. Dick’s pretty sure Jason doesn’t actually harbor any murderous feelings towards him, just like he doesn’t actually hate Bruce, no matter what he says.

“The girls and Alfred ganged up on me,” Jason says, leaning back against the scaffolding. “Whatever. I needed to get the hell out of there anyways. I don’t know how you stand being around them all so much.”

Dick laughs. “They’re not as interested in me,” he admits. “I’m not the cool sibling.”

Jason doesn’t respond right away. It's hard for Dick to tell, when he’s wearing the helmet, but he thinks Jason is probably waiting to see if Dick is joking. It’s another way things have shifted between them - Jason’s holding back, not jumping straight to lashing out, like he used to. It should be a good thing - it is a good thing, but it’s throwing him off balance all the same. He feels like he's spent most of the past several days looking for Jason, even when Jason is right in front of him. He’s used to trying to find the Jason he knows - or knew - the Jason who was taken away from him. Now there’s a new Jason, a Jason he’s still getting to know. Dick can’t choose between them, can’t decide which one he wants to find every time he looks at him. Maybe that’s why he can’t seem to find his one lousy mafia shooter.

“Looks like the cops are covering up the ballistics report on Reynolds,” Jason says, after a moment. “Go figure.”

Dick frowns. “Just Reynolds?”

Jason grunts. “Hold on. What.”

Dick turns to look at him.

“Did you burp her?”

Oh, Dick realizes, he’s on the comm. Someone back at the Manor must have pinged him on a private line.

“Then get Alfred to do it.”

It’s curious that the ballistics on Cy Reynolds’ murder are the ones being suppressed, Dick thinks. He was the only one killed with a submachine gun - the bullets from most of the other crime scenes had come from a standard Beretta APX, and the object of his stakeout, Susie Falcone, had used a Glock on Danielle’s parents. The Glock matched a few other shootings, the Beretta matched none. None of that is particularly noteworthy - after all, Susie is a criminal, and Beretta shell casings are a dime a dozen at any mob shooting.

“Fine. I’ll check back in five. If you asswipes don’t pick up, I’m coming back there.” Jason makes an aggravated noise in the back of his throat, which Dick takes to mean he’s hung up.

“Everything OK?”

“Just peachy. By some cosmic fucking joke, I’m the only person in the family who can get the baby to take a damn bottle. I told her they just need to burp her, but I guess that’s too complicated a task for a family of genius detectives,” Jason grumbles. “I knew I shouldn’t have left her. Shit.”

“Jay, relax. She’s fine.” Dick can’t help but grin at him. It’s honestly sweet, the way Jason and the baby have gotten attached to each other. Dick likes to think he’s her second favorite, but it’s pretty hard to tell. No matter who’s holding her, she’s always looking at Jason, and Jason never stops looking at her.

“It’s fucking cold out here,” Jason says mulishly.

Dick raises an eyebrow. “I noticed. It’s April, not August. If you really want to go back, I’m not gonna stop you.”

“I don’t…” Jason sighs. “Look, I’m here, okay? You bungled this grade school op three nights in a row, so congrats, you triggered the bat buddy system. If I leave and you fuck it up again, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Dick supposes it’s his turn not to rise to the bait. “Fair enough,” he says easily, turning around to face the alleyway again. “What were you saying about the ballistics on Reynolds?”

“Oh, Oracle ran the bullets through Interpol. Turns out our ill-fated gang boss was offed by one of Carmine Falcone’s personal weapons. The record’s been scrubbed from US databases, but Babs had a hunch.” Jason sounds impressed.

“Been scrubbed meaning...there was a record,” Dick follows, “and some people might still remember, if they saw the bullets. Hence the coverup.”

“Yup. Hence the coverup.”

“Could explain what the commissioner was doing here the other night,” Dick muses.

Jason snorts derisively. “See, this is what I hate about the mafia. They’re so goddamn predictable. Kill the competition, pay off the cops, around and around forever. It’s so pedestrian.”

Dick laughs. “You’d rather deal with Clayface?”

“Fuck yes I would. Clayface has flair, you know? Anybody can be a mobster, shit.”

Jason has started shifting with agitation, or maybe impatience. Either way, their vantage spot isn’t hidden enough for him to be moving around. “Get low if you’re gonna be twitchy,” Dick tells him. “Or if you’re gonna have a cigarette, but I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“Lucky for you I quit then,” Jason says, crouching down next to him. “I’m not jonesing, I’m just fucking cold.”

“We could huddle together for warmth,” Dick jokes, grinning unabashedly when Jason’s helmet fixes him with a death glare. “Wait, you quit smoking? When?”

“When I started taking care of a baby, obviously.” Jason goes still, suddenly. “Is that her?”

The door to the alleyway opens, and they both tense - but it’s just a man, a bodyguard, by the looks of him. Close-cropped blonde hair, early 40s, used to throwing his weight around. Feeling there’s something familiar about him, Dick nudges Jason and motions for him to take a photo. Jason starts almost imperceptibly at the contact, but follows suit. They both hold perfectly still in the shadows as the man looks around, glances in a cursory way along the rooftops, and then sets off down the alley towards the street.

“I know him,” Jason mutters. “From Tim’s case files - he was with Intergang.”

Dick doesn’t say anything about Jason calling Tim by name, but it’s a welcome development. “Looks like he switched sides, if he’s hanging out here.”

“Wonderful,” Jason says. “All right, I’m gonna check on the kid again.”

Dick represses the urge to give him a shoulder squeeze, or ruffle his hair. It’d probably result in him getting shoved off the platform, but Jason’s being so....not different, because Dick’s always known that this Jason was still in him, somewhere. Always hoped, anyways. When Jason had been younger and acted like this, surly with his words but tender with his actions, Dick had always thought of him as cute. It’s like that now, too, except it’s not just cute, because Jason has several inches and at least two weight classes on him. It’s cute in a different way, an adult way. It’s cute in a way that makes Dick want to push harder against Jason’s armor, to catch as many glimpses of that side of him as he can. If he thinks about it too long, it’s cute in a way that makes him want, recklessly.

“Red Hood to Batgirl,” Jason says. He’s calling on the family line this time. “Give me an update.”

“You’re seriously a helicopter parent, you know that, Hood?” Steph laughs in Dick’s ear. “We figured it out. Well...Black Bat figured it out.”

Jason’s shoulders sag a little in relief. Cute, Dick thinks, involuntarily. He needs to get a grip. “About fucking time.”

“She prefers being propped up,” Cass says. “It helps her swallow.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. And she likes her back straight.”

“You said none of that, actually,” Steph says. “You just told us to support her head. Which we have been, thank you very much.”

“You have her now?”

“Robin has her.”

Dick and Jason look at each other. Jason says, “What the fuck?”

“Right?” Steph sounds amused. “I was surprised too....his friend is here, that ginger kid? He’s the one that took her from the orphanage, right?”

“Batgirl, I swear to god, if anything happens to her - ”

“Oh, calm down, jeez,” Steph groans. “They’re being supervised, okay? It’s honestly precious, you would agree with me if you could see it. I’ll text the pictures to N.”

“Please do,” Dick says. Speaking of cute, in a way that’s much safer to think about.

“Go do your job now,” Cass tells them. “We’re handling it.”

“Yeah, what she said. Batgirls out.”

“Feel better?” Dick asks, after a moment.

“Don’t ask me that,” Jason grouses. “And show me those pictures when you get them.”

Dick grins. “Sure, Jay.”

“Ugh.”

Dick decides to change the subject, before Jason gets too antsy and tries to bail. “So how do you want to play this, when Susie shows?”

Jason points to a dumpster halfway down the alley. “We wait until she’s there. I’ll get the club door, put a taser on it to stop her getting back in or anyone else from coming out. You cut her off before she gets to the street, and we question her on the backside of the dumpster. I’ll take line of sight, since I’m packing.”

Dick nods. “So is she.”

“So is every goon in those back rooms, sure. That’s why we lock their asses in.”

“And if they come out the front?”

Jason spins a gun in his hand. “Rubber bullets do the job just fine if you know how to aim. Let me worry about the backup.”

Another thing that’s changed about Jason - or that hasn’t changed, depending on how far back Dick looks. He uses rubber bullets now, whenever he’s working a case with one of them. Supposedly it’s a stipulation from Bruce, but Jason didn’t use lethal force on the couple cases he and Dick worked together, either, back when Dick was wearing the cowl. Dick thinks Bruce just gave him an excuse - whatever bloodlust Jason was fueled by when he first came back to Gotham has long since dried up. There are still things that set him off - Barbara had informed them about a dead rapist in the Narrows just last month - but Bruce hadn’t even commented on it, besides the barest acknowledgment. Dick thinks he might be the only one that actually cares when Jason kills someone, anymore. And what’s really disturbing is that he’s not actually sure how much he cares. For instance, he knows Jason has a third gun, holstered under his jacket, loaded with live ammo. He could call Jason out on it, insist he ditch it or at the very least unload it.

He says nothing. Let me worry about the backup. If this mission ends in a massacre, Dick will only have himself to blame.

The door opens again, and out steps Susie Falcone.

She immediately looks around, staying still in the doorway for a minute or more. Dick is pretty sure she hasn’t seen him following her, but he’s familiar with the sensation of being watched. He and Jason both shrink further into the shadows, waiting for her to make a move.

The whole process takes about six seconds. The moment she gets a few paces into the alley, they drop down. Jason electrifies the door handle, and Dick outmaneuvers her easily, slapping his police-issue cuffs on her and kicking her gun aside, then spinning her into the wall behind the dumpster. She hits it with a grunt. By the time she’s glaring at him, Jason is at his side again.

“Nightwing and Red Hood?” she says. “Damn. Didn’t expect to see you fellas out here.”

She doesn’t seem scared of them. Dick guesses they’ll have backup coming their way soon.

“Hey, what do you know,” Jason says conversationally, picking up the gun and emptying the clip in one swift motion. “Nightwing, I do believe this is our Glock.”

“Not mine,” Susie objects. “Picked it up off the club floor.”

“Come on, Susie, you’re smarter than that.” Jason crosses his arms. “Look, I can appreciate a sensible weapon. The Berettas the rest of your family favors? Too flashy for me. I loved Sopranos as much as the next guy, but come on.”

Dick suppresses a laugh. “Thought you were a Sig man,” he says in an undertone. He hadn’t expected Jason to take the lead, but it’s working. Susie looks agitated at the mention of her family.

“Wow, stalker. Remind me to move safe houses,” Jason quips back. “Aw, look, she slipped your cuffs.”

There’s a taser in Susie’s newly freed hand, and Dick quickly sidesteps it, twists it out of her wrist and sends it clattering down the cobblestones of the alley. Jason sweeps her legs out from under her and knocks her down flat, maybe a little harder than Dick would’ve. Thankfully, she goes down without a fight.

“Let’s try this again,” Dick says, kneeling next to her and zip-tying her wrists. If he wasn’t sure before, he is now - she was expecting them. They won’t be alone for long. He throws a couple smoke pellets down to the ends of the alley, and clips a nearly invisible wireless mic to the shoelaces of her boot under the guise of patting her down.

“You’re obviously not surprised to see us, so just tell us what we want to know,” Jason tells her, squatting down. “I’ll be honest, I don’t really give a shit that you shot Big Mouth, but what did Linda Torres ever do to you?”

“Let me up,” Susie snarls.

“No. Talk, or I’ll give you a taste of that taser you tried to pull on us.”

“Hood,” Dick hisses.

“See? He knows I’ll do it. Save yourself the grief, Susie.” Jason points the barrel of his gun lazily at her temple.

Susie narrows her eyes. “Fine. The two of them robbed me, last September. Dumb motherfuckers didn’t know who they were messing with. But I let them live because the bitch was pregnant.”

Jason makes a noise of disbelief. “Oh, sure. You’re a real bleeding heart, is that it?”

“Like you’re any better,” Susie fires back.

“You said you waited on Linda because she was pregnant,” Dick says. “Why’d you wait to kill Big Mouth?”

Susie’s mouth twists. “Guess I just felt like it.” Dick doesn’t need to see the tension in her shoulders to know she’s lying.

“Strike two.” Jason clicks the safety off. “Who put the hits out?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Susie answers. “I’m dead if I talk, so pistol whip me if you want to. Here’s the God’s honest truth: I really didn’t need a reason to kill those assholes. I was out for ‘em anyways. But I’m not crazy enough to kill a baby, all right? I don’t need shit like that on my conscience.”

“Keep talking,” Jason growls. Dick hears the whoop of a siren a few blocks off. “Where’s the baby now?”

“Somewhere safe, I swear. If anybody comes for her, it won’t be me.”

Susie still thinks Danielle’s at the orphanage, then. That’s good for them, but potentially bad for all the other kids, Colin included. These guys clearly have no problem killing children, even if Susie won’t do it.

The sirens are getting closer. Someone inside must’ve called the cops. Dick motions to Jason, indicating they need to wrap things up.

“Who is coming for her,” Jason barks, every line of his body a threat. “You’ve got five seconds.”

“You don’t.” Susie looks triumphant. They can hear the shouts of police from behind the smoke. “But don’t worry, boys. You’ll find out who really runs this town soon enough.”

“Hood,” Dick mutters. “We need to go, cops in this neighborhood aren’t cape-friendly.”

Jason stands, visibly enraged, and for a moment Dick thinks he’ll shoot Susie anyways. He’s prepared to move - but then Jason pulls out his grapple, fires, and flies up onto the roof.

“Talk about a bleeding heart,” Susie says to Dick. “He have kids or something?”

Dick doesn’t like her tone of voice at all. She’s too relaxed, too unconcerned about being under arrest. She won’t stay in long.

“It’s Nightwing! Get your hands up!”

Dick obliges, ready to pull his escrima sticks.

Three police officers come through the smoke, weapons drawn. “You better have a damn good reason for being this far out of Bludhaven,” one of them shouts at Dick.

“Sure do!” Dick calls back. “Arrested a murderer for you, no need to thank me!”

“Shut up,” a different officer retorts. “Keep your hands up, pretty boy.”

“Oh, fuck this,” Jason mutters over the comm. “I’m throwing you an escape, we’ll recon on the library roof. Stop being so goddamn chatty.”

One smoke pellet later, Dick is three rooftops away and flying. He gets to the library before Jason, exhilarated as ever from a good run.

Jason drops down next to him after a minute or so, laughing when he gets a look at Dick’s smile. “Running from the cops still does it for you, huh?”

Dick elbows him, momentarily forgetting to keep his distance. “Doesn’t it for you?”

Surprisingly, Jason doesn’t move away. “Usually they’re shooting at me, so.”

Dick leans closer, testing. “So…yes?”

“You’re so annoying,” Jason says, but he lets Dick nudge his shoulder, bump their arms together. He’s so solid, Dick thinks. So big. More like Bruce than any of them.

“So, how fast do you think she’ll get out?” he asks, when Jason stays quiet.

“Fucking tomorrow, probably,” Jason sighs. “Next week if we’re lucky.”

“Sounds like she didn’t know about Danielle, at least.”

“She’s not the problem,” Jason says, shrugging Dick off and standing back up. “Falcones will blow up the whole orphanage if they get wind of it. We need to put them down first.”

“We need to find out who’s in charge,” Dick agrees. “I planted a mic on her shoe. In the laces. Hopefully she won’t find it for a few days.”

“Good thinking,” Jason nods. “You gonna keep patrolling?”

“Might as well,” Dick says, standing up next to him and stretching his arms over his head. “I’m still stiff from that stakeout, I need to move.”

Jason’s gone quiet again. Dick thinks he hears his breath catch, but the helmet muffles it enough that it could be a yawn.

“You’re going back to the manor?”

Jason groans. “Fuck my life, yes.”

“You miss her, huh.” Cute, his brain chants.

Jason doesn’t answer, but Dick has a feeling he’s getting the stink-eye.

“I miss her too,” Dick offers. “It’s okay.”

Jason sighs. “Dick…”

“It’s a good thing, Jay. You care about her! We all do,” Dick adds, seeing the rigidity in Jason’s posture. “I mean, you’re practically her parent right now. Of course you miss her.”

“...Don’t say it like that.” Jason’s voice is low, almost pained, and Dick knows he pushed too far. “Like…like I have a right to, okay, just. Don’t.”

“Jason, wait,” Dick starts, but he doesn’t get to finish. Without a backward glance, Jason fires off a line to the neighboring building, and then he’s gone.

***

(tim)

The docks are quiet, unsettlingly so, as Tim prowls around the towers of shipping containers, keeping to the deep shadows they cast along the chipped pavement. It’s overcast, so there’s no moonlight to expose him, but it’s also too dark to see which of the trucks and campers parked all over are occupied, which ones might suddenly turn their headlights on him and catch him out.

One truck in particular - an innocuous looking Isuzu with a stunningly weaponized interior, is the object of his search. The driver, Felipe, is one of Tim’s best informants within Intergang - or had been, prior to the upheaval. Tim’s reasonably sure that Felipe is too lowly a grunt to make an example of, but still, he’s concerned that he hasn’t heard from him in a few days.

As it turns out, he needn’t have worried. He finds Felipe a hundred yard away from his truck, taking a piss off the wharf. He lets himself into the passenger side of the truck, and immediately notes that it is packed. There’s hardly a spare inch in the back, and Tim has a tough time even getting into the passenger seat with all the bags, clothes, and blankets stuffed into it. He pushes the majority of it to the floor, and waits.

Felipe comes back a few moments later. He opens the door and starts, eyes going wide when he sees Tim, but Tim puts his finger to his lips and motions for Felipe to get in so they can talk.

“Red Robin,” Felipe says, once the door is closed. He looks even more shaken than usual. “What the fuck, man?”

Tim crosses his arms. “You tell me, Felipe. You’ve been dodging my calls for days, and now I find out you’re skipping town?”

“I ditched that phone, man. Boss Reynolds had my number in there, you know? Ditched it as soon as I heard about him. I wasn’t trying to ghost you, honest.”

“Relax,” Tim tells him. “I’m not mad. I’d dodge me, too. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll shadow you out of town. Make sure you’re not followed.”

“Shit, man,” Felipe sighs. “Okay, look. There’s shit I can’t tell you, not if I ever want to hench again. You gotta figure that all out yourself, yeah?”

Tim shrugs. “Fine.”

Felipe swallows. “It started last week when Boss Reynolds met with somebody - I don’t know his name, God as my witness, but from what I heard, ‘cause I was unloading some of that funky alien tech, and you know Boss Reynolds wanted to supervise that personally - anyways, this guy in a suit took a meeting with him, and it sounded like he was offering Boss Reynolds a job. Said he had a new operation, bigger than Intergang, bigger than anything Gotham’s seen in a while.”

“Did Reynolds believe him?”

“Nah, he told him to get lost. They had some words, and then everybody started pulling guns, and I went back to the ship so I didn’t get fuckin’ shot, but I didn’t hear anything after that. Next thing I saw, Boss Reynolds was calling his son up and telling him to demo some building down by the old boardwalk - a hotel, maybe. Guess he wanted to expand that way, I don’t know.”

“That was the old Falcone hotel,” Tim says, mostly just to see Felipe’s reaction. He isn’t disappointed - Felipe goes pale, and his eyes flash to the rosary hanging off his rearview mirror. Tim likes Felipe as an informant because he’s nosy, shockingly competent for a henchman, and because he really likes to gossip. He’s never held back on Tim before this.

“Few days later, one of ours, this merc named Tiberius, comes down to the warehouse and says he’s got something to show us. Takes out a fat fuckin’ folder full of pictures…man, it was some sick shit. Boss Reynolds, his wife, Reynolds Jr, and every fuckin’ guy under him. Kids, man. He just passed it around, made everyone look at it. Then he says, we can either be in the folder, or we can come meet the new boss.”

Felipe takes a shaky breath. “Obviously I go with Tiberius, like everyone else. I heard a couple guys stayed on the ship that was docked, thinking they’d wait ‘em out, but the new boss blew it up. Says we’re not in the tech business anymore, and anyone caught trying to smuggle it is gonna get tied to it and tossed in the harbor. You can imagine my concerns,” he says, gesturing to his truck. Tim estimates half or more of the weapons in it are salvaged from alien junk. Roy Harper would have a field day with the setup this guy’s made for himself.

“So that’s why you’re bailing,” Tim says, understanding. He can hardly blame the guy. “Why not just hide the truck somewhere?”

“Well…I did think about that,” Felipe admits. “Tiberius made us a pretty sweet pitch, once we went along with him. Not gonna lie, I was tempted. Tech is my thing, you know, but I can make a gun out of pretty much anything. I could see the possibilities, is what I’m saying, but that was before we met the new boss.”

Tim nods encouragingly. This is what he’s been waiting to hear.

“Listen, Red Robin - I know we’ve had our differences, but I respect you, man, you know that. You’ve been good to me, so I’m gonna give you some advice here. Stay the hell away from the new boss. Like, don’t even get involved. I’ve been henching for a while, and I’ve seen some messed up shit, but they are crazy. Está loca, you feel me? I’ve seen the hit list, and you’re right at the top of it. You and all the other capes. Half of Arkham, too. And they’re connected, like you wouldn’t believe. Shit, I’m already saying too much, man. You see the position I’m in here?”

“I do, Felipe,” Tim tells him. He hands over a stack of hundred dollar bills, their agreed-upon rate for information. “Where are you going?”

“You’re crazy too, if you think I’m telling you that,” Felipe scoffs.

Tim wasn’t expecting a straight answer anyways. “Fair enough. You heading out now?”

“Soon as you get the hell outta my car, yeah. You said you’d shadow me out?”

“I will,” Tim says. “From a distance. If you don’t see me, it means you’re clear to cross the bridge.”

“All right,” Felipe nods. “In that case, I hope I never see your ass again.”

Tim laughs, and climbs out of the truck.

He finds his own way out of the shipyard, pulls a bike out of a safe house, and catches up with Felipe’s GPS signal halfway to the Fashion District. Once he’s sure there’s no immediate threat, he calls Barbara.

“Red Robin to Oracle. I’m uploading a recording to the server.”

Barbara is in his ear at once. “You met with your informant?”

“He wouldn’t give me a name, but he let a couple things slip.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” she says.

“First, he flinched hard when I brought up the Falcone name.”

“Confirms what we already know,” Barbara says. “Good. There’s more?”

“There’s more.” Tim tries not to gloat. This is, after all, a serious situation. “He was being cagey about mentioning the leader’s gender, so I was already suspicious, but then said ‘está loca’ when he was trying to warn me.”

Barbara whistles. “Well,” she says, sounding satisfied. “That’ll certainly narrow it down.”

“Yep,” Tim says grimly. “Looks like the new head of the Falcone family is a woman.”

***

(jason)

When Jason was Robin, the library had always been his favorite room in the Manor. It had spoken easily to his idea of what wealth was - rich people had fancy cars, sure, and maybe pools and expensive wardrobes, but wealthy people had art collections, and gardens, and libraries. Jason had spent hours upon hours browsing the shelves, reading anything he could wrap his brain around (and plenty of things he couldn’t), suggesting additions to Alfred, and avoiding his schoolwork in favor of learning about more interesting things, like string theory, or cryptology, or chemical warfare.

That was then.

Now, the library is the only place he can get a minute of peace from the constant barrage of his obnoxious, nosy, boundaryless family members. They’ve been characteristically persistent in their curiosity about him, and about Danielle, who is now Dani, courtesy of Stephanie. This is a nickname family, she’d said, and Jason hadn’t known how to disagree. So now she’s Dani, and Jason is family, and that apparently means he is no longer entitled to any privacy, or personal space for that matter. The only person who hasn’t barged in on him is Bruce, which is almost worse, in a way, because it’s one thing when nobody seeks him out, and it’s quite another when everyone does and then Bruce...doesn’t. Not that he wants Bruce to come up and bother him, God. But he’s in the man’s house, he’s hearing him on the comm constantly either on patrol or down in the cave, and all the other Bat brats and even Alfred are buzzing around him like flies. It’s too much - it feels like before, except for Bruce’s conspicuous absence reminding him that it’s not.

Sharing a bathroom with Dick is another before experience that Jason didn’t need a repeat of. In some ways, it was worse when he was Robin - stripping and showering after patrol in the cave with Dick a few feet away from him is a memory he really wouldn’t have minded leaving back in the Pit - and in other ways, it’s worse now, because Dick is always freaking around. There’s no reprieve, he’s not flitting off to the Titans every week like he used to be. Jason hasn’t gone half a day without Dick getting in his space, drawing up close to him and making that earnest eye contact he’s so annoyingly good at; sometimes wet, sometimes half-naked, sometimes both. And what can Jason do? He’s not going to leave Dani, and he needs Dick to be there so he can get some sleep every once in a while, or patrol, or shower. It’s actually been pretty helpful to have him around, in that regard, but if he has to see the guy walking around with bedhead and nothing but a pair of boxer briefs on one more time, he’s going to fucking explode.

So, the library has its benefits: no harassment from over-familiar family members, no Dick sexually frustrating him within an inch of his life, and, if he’s willing to be a little sentimental, he kind of does want to show it to Dani. She’s too young to appreciate it, probably, but it stirs something in him to share it with her all the same. He’s heard it’s never too early to get kids into reading - his parents sure as hell never tried, but Jason had read anything he could get his hands on, once he learned how. It had saved him, back then. Maybe it can do the same for Dani one day.

“Could’ve sworn Bruce had a Dr. Seuss anthology somewhere in here,” he says to her, combing over the shelves with his eyes. “Guess not. You up for something more sophisticated?”

She grunts, squeezing his shirt in her fist. “Alright,” he agrees, pulling Twelfth Night off the shelf. “Shakespeare it is. You’ve got taste, kid.”

He wonders, not for the first time, what exactly he thinks he’s doing, playing at this whole parenting thing. The rational part of his brain knows that this is a case, that Dani is a victim, that Jason is protecting her because it’s his job. The emotional part of his brain has gone completely off the goddamn rails. Case in point: he’s here with her in the library, prepping her for early literacy like some kind of Crest Hill soccer mom wannabe. Like he’ll even be in her life when she starts doing her ABCs - God willing, she’ll be as far away from him as possible by the time that happens.

It’s fucking hard to think about. He never thought he’d get this attached to a person who can’t even burp on their own. It’s been over a week, and he still struggles with putting her down, with stepping away from her, even when he knows he’s coming right back. Steph and Damian have been wanting to hold her all the time, and Jason knows that they’re capable, knows he has no claim over Dani, doesn’t even mind either of them all that much under normal circumstances, and still, he can’t help feeling like something has reached inside and gripped at his heart every time he passes her over. Which is ridiculous, because she’s not his, he has no more claim over her than any other schmuck off the street. She’s just a kid with unbelievably bad luck, and he’s the idiot who followed Dick up the stairs instead of booking it out the door like a sensible person.

He settles down with her on the couch, propping her up on a couple of pillows, giving her foot a little squeeze. She squeals, smiling at him, and stuffs her fingers in her mouth. God, Jason didn’t know he could feel the way he feels whenever she smiles at him. It’s gonna kill him when he has to give her up.

“If music be the food of love, play on,” he reads, walking his fingers up her leg. “Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die.”

Dani watches him, chewing happily on her fingers. “‘O, it came over my ear like the sweet sound that breathes upon a bank of violets.’ That’s you, you know.” He pokes her in the cheek, grinning. If music be the food of love…but hell, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this. Especially when she’s all calm and engaging, the precious few minutes that he’s learned to appreciate in between finishing eating and being tired and cranky, when all she wants to do is look around at things, and all Jason wants to do, ever, is look at her.

The door to the library opens, and Jason goes from content to murderous in a fraction of a second. “What the fuck is it now,” he hisses, expecting Damian or maybe Tim, coming to nag him some more, and instead sees Damian’s friend Colin, who looks horrified to have intruded on him. Jason immediately feels like the world’s biggest ass.

“Sorry,” Colin whispers, mortified, and Jason waves a hand apologetically.

“My bad, I didn’t know it was you. Come in, it’s fine. She’s awake, you don’t need to whisper.”

Colin looks unsure, but soon nods and steps into the library, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Once inside, he dawdles by the nearest bookshelf, clearly at a loss. Jason probably should’ve just let him back out, because this is awkward. Should he keep reading to Dani? Talk to Colin? Ask him why he looks like someone just kicked him and stole his dog?

“You good?” he ventures, figuring he ought to at least attempt to be the adult in the room.

Colin glances at him over his shoulder, smiling tentatively. “Yeah, just bored. Damian’s sleeping, we had a rough patrol last night.”

“We?” Jason repeats, stunned. Bruce isn’t an exemplar of child welfare practices, sure, but letting Damian take other kids on crime-busting playdates? What the hell?

“Oh, I guess you don’t know,” Colin frowns. “I’m….uh, it’s probably easier if I just show you.”

He slides his jacket off, threadbare t-shirt hanging off his skinny frame. Jason tenses, not sure what to expect. When Colin’s arm starts to expand, his eyes widen. By the time his fist is as big around as Jason’s thigh, he thinks his eyebrows have probably disappeared into his hairline.

“Oh.” Jason has no idea how he’s supposed to react to this. Is Colin a meta? He’s pretty sure he would know if Colin was a meta. “How…?”

“Scarecrow,” Colin explains. Jason’s heart sinks. “He experimented on me with synthetic Venom. Batman saved me.”

Dani fusses, twisting her body and scrunching her face up. Jason sympathizes - this conversation is giving him gas, too. “Shit,” he says. Not the most articulate way of expressing his condolences, but Colin’s friends with Damian, so tact can’t be of great importance to him. “I didn’t know.”

Dani starts to cry, and Colin takes a couple steps forward, putting Jason’s hackles up at once. Stop it, he tells himself sternly. He might have fallen down a few pegs, but he’s not pathetic enough to square up against an abused fifth grader. He picks her up, rubbing her back, and then glances over at Colin. The kid’s gone shy, looking down at a point somewhere between Jason’s legs and the floor. Jason feels all the hostility bleed out of him, and he sighs.

“You can sit down.” He gestures to the couch, trying to sound nonthreatening. Dani burps, mouths at his shirt, and then gurgles and kicks her legs again. She leans back against his hold to stare at Colin, and Colin’s face splits into a huge grin. He tucks himself down into the cushions, keeping plenty of space between them, but Jason can sense from the inclination of his body that he wants to be closer. Well, if anyone has a right to be close to Dani, it’s the kid who rescued her in the first place.

“Here,” he offers, turning Dani around in his arms. His heart clenches, and he clamps down on his desire to flee. “You can hold her for a minute, if you want to. She likes you.”

Colin looks at him, eyes shining. “Really?”

Jason nods. “Go ahead. Honestly, you probably know a lot more about this shit than I do.”

Colin takes Dani from him carefully, smiling at her and laughing when she reaches forward to grab at his jacket zipper. A few seconds later, it’s in her mouth, along with most of her fist.

“Should I…?” Colin looks at Jason hesitantly.

“I mean…she’s had worse things in her mouth,” Jason tells him. A ringing endorsement of his child-minding abilities right there. “It’s fine, right? That’s how they build an immune system, or whatever.”

“Well, Alfred washed this for me last night,” Colin admits, looking embarrassed. “So it shouldn’t be too gross.”

Jason leans back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms. “Getting all the perks, huh?”

Colin shrugs, casting his eyes down again. “I like it here.”

Considering where Colin grew up, Jason supposes he can’t blame the kid. Still, he’s not quite wrapping his head around this sweet, genuinely nice kid being buddies with Damian. The demon brat isn’t exactly known for his winning personality, and Jason only knows vaguely how the two of them met, but what he’s heard doesn’t strike him as being particularly conducive to forging the lasting bonds of friendship.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he decides to just ask. “Why’d you call Damian, the night you found her?”

Colin looks surprised. “I...don’t know,” he says, slowly. “I didn’t know who else to call? Damian’s my best friend, and he always knows what to do.”

Jason can’t keep the skeptical look off his face.

“And if he doesn’t, Bat….Bruce, I mean, definitely always knows what to do.”

Jason scrubs a hand over his face. Time to change the fucking subject. “How’d you two get hooked up, anyways?”

Dani turns her head to look at him, still eating Colin’s zipper. Sometimes, Jason gets the bizarre feeling that she can somehow tell when he’s about to blow a gasket. It’s probably a coincidence - she moves around a lot, and Jason has anger issues that flare up every ten minutes, so there’s bound to be some crossover - but it works, because it takes the fight right out of him every time.

“We worked a case together,” Colin says, holding Dani a little more securely against him. “About a year ago, I guess. Kids were disappearing from my orphanage, and from the shelters. I don’t think you were around.”

“I wasn’t,” Jason shakes his head. He and Roy had been busting a trafficking ring in Ibiza, and it had taken Jason over a month to get all the major players. “I heard about it a little, from Dick.”

Dick hadn’t given him too many details at the time - Jason had chalked it up to him having a few other things on his mind, but as Colin fills in the gaps, he starts to suspect Dick just didn’t want him going on a rampage. Which he absolutely would have - he still wants to, God. God. All those poor kids, just a stone’s throw from his old neighborhood. And of course the police had done jack shit - Zsasz is practically Black Mask’s pet, he probably paid them off to look the other way, not that most of them need the excuse - and Bruce was gone, and Jason was gone, and Dick was in over his head, and - fuck, it should never have fallen to Damian and Colin.

He waits for the fury to subside a little, not trusting what will come out of his mouth. Dani hums around her fist, blinking at him, and it helps. “Jesus,” he says, finally. “This fucking town.”

Colin’s mouth twists a little. “Yeah. But you were Robin, right? You probably saw worse things.”

Did he? Jason doesn’t remember. He doubts it, though. He can’t imagine he would’ve been satisfied with Bruce’s way of dealing with it.

“I wouldn’t have pulled my stroke, when I was Robin,” he muses. “Probably why Bruce never gave me a sword.”

No, Jason would’ve bisected the fucker. It still has appeal, though he thinks he would lean towards his favorite Sig rifle if he was taking care of it today. Headshots for the henchmen - anyone who signs on to that kind of operation, even in the most menial capacity, doesn’t deserve to breathe. Kneecaps and crotch shots for the spectators, to make sure they couldn’t get away. Gut shots for the kid-wranglers. And Zsasz....it’s tempting to want to draw it out, but Jason can feel the desire leaving him the longer he thinks about it. His imaginative tortures fade into a simple headshot, and even that isn’t satisfying. Fuck. He just can’t seem to hold onto his rage lately, even when he wants to. It’s all being replaced by some kind of anxiety, some kind of tenderness that aches, burning deep into him every time Dani looks at him, or touches him. Every time he thinks of her. Every time he feels Dick watching him with her, all warmth and affection.

Colin bounces her a little, making her laugh. Jason feels his revenge fantasy slip away.

“What’re you reading her?” Colin nods to the book still laying open in Jason’s lap.

Jason looks at it. “Oh, Twelfth Night. Shakespeare,” he adds, recalling that Colin is eleven, and likely not perusing great literature in his free time. “Figure it’s never too early to start her on the classics.”

Colin grins. “That’s cool,” he says. “Does she like it?”

“Beats me,” Jason shrugs.

“Read some?”

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Colin flushes. “Um. I mean, if you want…”

He decides to humor him. What the hell. “Sure, why not. ‘O spirit of love! How quick and fresh art thou, that, notwithstanding in thy capacity, receiveth as the sea.’”

Dani yawns widely, relinquishing her fist in a long string of drool. Jason laughs, and so does Colin. “Maybe jumping the gun a little,” he admits. “I don’t really know what kids are into these days.”

“Me either,” Colin says. “I think she liked it, though. See, she’s just sleepy.”

Jason feels a lump forming in his throat, and swallows hard against it.

“What does it mean? The part you were reading,” Colin asks.

“Um.” Jason doesn’t really know, he’s not exactly a literary scholar, but he’s always liked to work Shakespeare out on his own, finding meaning in the wordplay and running the metaphors through his mind until they line up in a satisfactory way. He doesn’t know if his interpretation is correct, exactly, but: “So this Duke, a guy called Orsino, is saying that he doesn’t want to be in love anymore. He’s talking about love and how everyone thinks it’s this wonderful thing, but the truth is that it actually just makes people miserable.”

Jason pauses, feeling like he just showed way too much of his hand. “Basically, he’s just complaining,” he finishes, uneasy.

Glancing at Colin out of the corner of his eye, he’s relieved to see that he’s occupied with Dani, and not paying attention to Jason at all. Thank fuck. If it’d been anyone else in the house sitting there, he’d be in for some horrible armchair psychology session, and he’d have to book it out the window and not return for several months.

“I think she wants you,” Colin says, as Dani ramps up her fussing. Jason takes her gratefully, holds her to his chest as she rubs her eyes and grumbles her displeasure at being passed around.

“All right, I hear you,” Jason murmurs, gently tugging her fists away from her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, come on. It’s not so bad.” Like he’s one to talk.

And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, ever since pursue me, he thinks, rocking her tiny body into a comfortable position. Colin was only holding her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and Jason was sitting less than five feet away, but he missed her. God, what is happening to him?

“Damian didn’t want to bring her here, at first,” Colin says quietly. “But I think he’s glad that we did. He really likes her, you know.”

Jason doesn’t quite know how to feel about that. It’s sweet, on some level. And he’s well aware that Damian likes her, going by the amount of time he spends hovering in the hallway outside Jason’s room, not to mention the increasingly expensive toys that keep showing up among her things.

He looks down at her, dozing off. “Well, she’s pretty easy to like.”

Colin nods, looking pleased.

“Damian, on the other hand....”

Colin grins. “He’s not so bad.”

He’s really not. Like hell Jason will ever tell him that, though. “You have bizarre taste, kid.”

Colin blushes, hard, and Jason blinks. Well. That’s interesting, isn’t it? Or it will be, in a few years. He makes a note to ask Dick about it, later.

“Are you gonna adopt her?” Colin asks, bringing Jason’s amused thoughts to a screeching halt.

Automatically, he says, “No way.”

Colin looks wounded. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t,” Jason replies. “I’m the last person who should be a parent, trust me.”

“Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Doesn’t feel that way either - the thought floats up, unbidden, uninvited. He can’t. “She deserves better,” Jason says, heavily. “Even if….even I could handle it. She deserves better than this family.”

“But your family is - ”

“A death sentence.” He’s being harsh, but if Colin’s gonna be hanging around, he’ll find out for himself soon enough. “It’s fucking cursed, look. I couldn’t do that to any kid, especially her. You should get out too, while you still can.”

Colin looks angry, which surprises him. His hands are balled into fists, and Jason sees a tremor in them, a bulging that immediately sets off alarm bells in his head.

“Kid,” he says sharply. “Colin. If you’re gonna hulk out, take it outside. Alfred will have an honest-to-God stroke if you do it in here.”

A few deep breaths later, Colin looks normal again. “Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. “You’re wrong, though.”

Jason’s temper flares. “No offense, but I think I would know better than you,” he snaps. Dani grumbles sleepily in his arms, and he sighs out in frustration. “Trust me, okay? She’s better off. It never ends well, not in this family. I’m proof of that.”

But Colin shakes his head. “You don’t know,” he says. “My mom said the same thing, when she dropped me off at the orphanage. She gave the nuns a letter - she said I’d be better off with them than with her.”

Jason stills.

“It didn’t matter,” Colin continues. “Scarecrow still got me. Victor Zsasz still got me. Maybe they would have gotten me with her, too. Maybe I wouldn’t have been that much better off with her, but at least I would’ve been with her.” He sniffles, and Jason holds Dani a little tighter.

“I know she loved me.” His voice cracks. “I just wish...I wish I could’ve stayed with her. I wish she would have known that I never would’ve been better off away from her.”

He looks absolutely miserable, pitched forward and rubbing hard at his eyes. Jason is reminded painfully of how young Colin is, closer to Dani’s age than his own. He remembers being Colin’s age and younger, thinking the same thoughts about his own mother. How fiercely he’d guarded her, chased away the cops and the social workers, doing everything in his power not to be separated from her. Not that it mattered, in the end.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Colin, I’m sorry. For the record, I actually kind of get where you’re coming from.”

Colin looks up at him.

“Wish I didn’t, but. That’s life.”

“You should adopt her,” Colin says again, softly.

Jason shakes his head. “Colin…”

“You’ll think about it.”

He exhales. “Sure, I’ll think about it.” Like he’ll be able to think about anything else after this.

“She needs you,” Colin insists stubbornly.

Jason doesn’t reply. He knows on some level Colin is right - Dani does need him right now. She needs someone, at least, someone who can take care of her and protect her. Someone who isn’t afraid to shed blood to keep her safe. Jason doesn’t relish the thought, but he’s certain this won’t end tidily. Mob cases never do. It’ll be messy, and bloody, and Bruce will have a shit fit, and Dick probably will too, and Jason will go back to Crime Alley and Dani will get shipped off to Witness Protection or something, and damn, does that hurt to think about.

He looks over at Colin, still hunched over on himself, vulnerability written into every line of his posture. He’s desperately in need of a hug, or some kind of affection, validation, maybe. Or that’s just Jason projecting, who the fuck knows. If Dick was here, he would know exactly what to do for him. Jason’s at a loss, unable to separate his young self from the damaged kid sitting next to him.

He adjusts his hold on Dani carefully, laying her down flat along his arm, while he works out what to say. Finally, he settles on, “Damian’s lucky to have you.”

Colin sits up a little straighter. He looks like he’s waiting for more, but he’s shit out of luck, because Jason has no idea what else he needs to hear. No idea what he could say that wouldn’t be completely insincere, anyways. We can be your family, Colin. Like hell. Bruce has enough kids lined up waiting to die for him, he’s not about to encourage another one to be turned into cannon fodder for the man’s principles.

“Uh, yeah,” Jason says, after a moment. “That’s all I got.”

Colin smiles wanly. “Thanks, anyways.”

Jason snorts. “Sure.”

“Can I hug you?”

Jason stares. “Can you…what? Me?”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Colin adds, averting his eyes.

Jason can’t even remember the last time someone hugged him. He thinks Roy might’ve, some eight or nine months ago, after they’d narrowly survived a warehouse explosion. Jason’s whole body had been ringing from the blast, so he doesn’t exactly remember the sensation of it. And before that…?

He imagines Dick’s reaction, if he was here. He’d be disappointed in Jason, that’s for sure. Really, Jay? You can’t hug a child? It’s a fair argument, he has to admit. Jason’s fucked up personal space issues don’t really apply to children, or babies, clearly. Colin’s obviously attention-starved, and Jason’s already holding one kid. What’s another, really.

“Okay,” he relents. “Hit me.”

There’s a shuffling motion next to him, and then Colin is hugging his free arm, leaning his head against Jason’s shoulder. Jason can’t quite contain his surprise - it’s weird, as expected, but it’s not dramatically increasing his desire to bolt through the nearest exit like he’d thought it would. It’s a little funny, actually. He’s pretty sure both Bruce and Damian would lose their shit if they could see him right now. Dick, too, most likely, but to his credit, it would be a happy kind of shit-losing. Damian would probably try to gut him.

Are there cameras in the library? Jason can’t remember. He kind of hopes there aren’t, because if anyone else sees this, he will absolutely never live it down.

***

(dick)

“Wait, I think that’s him.” Dick leans forward to peer at Tim’s screen. He points to the familiar looking figure. “That guy. Do you have a clearer shot?”

Tim skips a few photos ahead, and zooms in. “Him?”

“Yes. That’s the guy. Jason said he recognized him from your surveillance files. He was at the club the night we caught Susie Falcone.”

“The fourth night, was it?” Tim asks, innocently.

“Don’t be mean, Timmy.”

“Just clarifying,” Tim grins. Dick raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay. I don’t have a ton of intel on this guy, he’s really slippery. According to my informant, he goes by Tiberius - some kind of mercenary, Greek or Albanian national. I doubt that’s his real name.”

Dick nods, studying the photographs. Tim continues, “He came over with Intergang as an enforcer, I think. Might’ve been Reynolds’ personal bodyguard.”

“Could explain how Reynolds got taken out,” Dick says thoughtfully. “He’s on the Falcones’ payroll now, but he’s not family. Might be an easy target.”

Tim opens his mouth, about to reply, when there’s a choked-off sound of fury from the Batcave below them.

“Was that Damian? He’s up already?” Dick asks, glancing down towards Bruce’s computer. He hops over the ramp to see what the fuss is about. Tim follows close behind.

“Everything okay?” Dick asks, approaching the wall of screens. There’s nothing that jumps out at him as being particularly alarming; Bruce is looking at DNA analyses, and Damian is looking at the Manor surveillance, tapping furiously at his ear.

“Todd!” he hisses. “What do you think you’re doing? Colin is my friend!”

“Robin,” Oracle’s voice comes through the speaker. “No names on the comms. And Hood isn’t wearing his earpiece, so you’ll have to tell him in person.” She sounds amused. “Oracle out.”

Damian swears.

“Holy shit,” Tim says faintly. “Look at them.”

The screen that all the Manor surveillance feeds run to is showing just one room - the library, of all places, but Dick vaguely recalls it being some kind of sanctuary to Jason, years and years ago. It makes sense that he’d end up back there, and it makes sense that he’d have Dani with him. What Dick doesn’t expect to see is little Colin Wilkes, all five feet and change of him, snuggled up to Jason’s side and hugging him, wrapped around his arm like a gangly koala. Dick can’t help but notice that Jason’s bicep is about as big around as Colin’s head, which is certainly...something. He’s not quite ready to classify how he feels about that, so he refocuses on the hug itself, which is nothing short of charming.

Damian grinds his teeth audibly. “It’s still going.”

“Oh, man.” Dick can’t help the grin he feels creeping up the sides of his face. “Bruce, are you seeing this?”

“I am,” Bruce says, stiffly. He looks like he’s in pain. Dick fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you? Look how sweet they are!” he exclaims, gesturing. It’s adorable.

“It is not sweet,” Damian snarls, whirling on him. “Todd is a corruptive influence, and Colin is young and impressionable! Where is your concern for him?”

Tim coughs, and it sounds a little bit like “jealous”. Surprisingly, this does not diffuse Damian’s indignation.

“I don’t get it,” Dick says, stepping between them quickly to block Damian’s spinning kick. “I thought you and Jason were fine, Damian. You’ve been spending enough time in our - in his room lately. Where’s this coming from?”

“Incredibly, I don’t feel as concerned about Todd recruiting an infant onto the path of lawlessness,” Damian retorts. “Colin lacks paternal guidance in his life, as you know. Todd clearly senses it.”

“Jason is very paternal these days,” Tim agrees.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just a hug,” Dick says in exasperation. “No one’s recruiting anyone, Damian. And look, it’s over. Your friend is just a hugger, that’s all.”

“I must agree with Master Richard,” Alfred says from behind them. “Having been the recipient of many such embraces from young Master Colin myself.”

“See? I’ve gotten hugs from him too,” Dick tells Damian. “And I know you have, so don’t bother denying it. He’s probably gearing up the courage to get one from Bruce one of these days.”

Bruce looks slightly alarmed by the prospect. “He is?”

Damian looks conflicted. “He is?”

Dick casts his eyes heavenward. “Colin, I’m so sorry.”

Before he can say anything else, the Cave door opens below them, and Duke’s bike comes shooting in, whipping around into its parking spot in a move that would send Dick flying over the handlebars. Bruce takes about half a second to look impressed, and then clears the main screen to pull up their intel on the Falcone case.

“What’s up, guys,” Duke calls, pulling off his helmet and jogging up the steps. “I’ve got news. Where’s Jason?”

“Being hugged, in the library,” Dick tells him. “You just missed it.”

Duke looks nonplussed. “Damn. Wait, that’s not some kind of weird euphemism, is it? If it is, I don’t want to know.”

“It most certainly is not,” Damian says venomously.

“Cool. I tried to get him on the comm, but he didn’t respond. Should I go get him? He’ll want to hear this.”

“Damian will get him,” Bruce says.

Damian is…already on the elevator. Dick spares a thought for Jason. At least he’s holding Dani, so Damian won’t attack him outright.

“Your news?” Bruce prompts.

“Right,” Duke nods. “I’ve been all over City Hall records, and spent yesterday afternoon getting intel in the East End. I’ve got names and faces of most of the major players in this. They’re trying hard to front some distant nephew of Carmine Falcone as the head of the whole operation, but it wasn’t quite adding up. You said the new Falcone boss is a woman, right?” he asks Tim.

Tim nods affirmatively.

Duke looks triumphant. “Then I know who she is.”

***

[jaskiersvalley]

Through the Eyes of a Goat

We only have @ohnomybreadsticks to blame for this. As the one responsible for ticking off the bingo square fills, she has also been an enabler. After reading the firefighter/vet AU and picking up on a small detail, she has put an idea in my head and, well, I hadn’t filled the ‘from the perspective of a pet’ square on the card. Lil Bleater’s POV here we go.

Lil Bleater wasn’t stupid, she remembered many things. Like the softness of hay while lying next to her mother. The warmth of the sun. The heat of the bright blaze and the burn of acrid smoke in her lungs. But she also remembered strong arms lifting her, something being put over her face so the burning lessened. She remembered firm hands on her chest turning gentle as she got to her feet and was returned to her mother.

When the one with the solid, comforting arms returned, she recognised him and happily chewed on his hair when he bent down to greet her. It was no hardship to follow him, leaving mother and sibling behind. She trusted this strange creature, he had carried her to safety after all. Though she was feeling less generous when the whole world lurched and she felt so sick, she drooled everywhere until the machine came to a stop and she was allowed out. Giving herself a whole body shake, Lil Bleater took in the new surroundings.

“Be good now,” her rescuer grumbled. “Remember how Eskel was the one to save you. Don’t be rude to him. But bite Lambert’s toes, he’s an ass.”

Whatever that meant. Lil Bleater trotted off to investigate the noise she heard up ahead and a familiar person stepped out. He promptly froze, staring at her like she was the most terrifying predator on earth and someone bumped into him from behind.

“Is that-?” The one out front loomed as he approached, big and should have been scary. Instead, Lil Bleater found herself comforted by a strangely calming presence. A hand stroked over her and she happily presented herself for more adoration. Maybe a snack would come her way too.

“Lil Bleater,” a voice said from behind. “I figured she’d be a good addition, considering she’s the one who brought us together.”

“Always knew you were a sappy fuck,” the third person grumbled but there was a scent of salt in the air, something Lil Bleater wanted. “Come here you dumb sack of shit. I love you, Cahir.”

That meant Lil Bleater’s rescuer was called Cahir. A strange name but that was humans in a nutshell.

“Love you too, Lamb.”

Which left the familiar one to be Eskel in all likelihood - Lil Bleater wasn’t stupid. She trotted around, investigating what was worth licking while there were declarations of love being passed around and licking in each other’s mouths. Humans were so peculiar.

The new farm Lil Bleater inhabited was a strange amalgamation. She had run of the land for most parts, only banned from a few pens from which deep growls and snarls emitted. Not that she’d want to go anywhere near those. However, most of the other animals were willing to talk and, the more Lil Bleater learned, the more she realised her role in the farm. She was the greeter. The resident who never left, who came along because she was wanted there not because nowhere else would have her.

At random hours of the day, one of the humans would turn up with a new addition. At first, it had been almost exclusively Cahir and all the animals Lil Bleater met were brought back by him. They all had similar stories of either being carried out of a flaming inferno like Lil Bleater had been. Or they had been shut in with (or without) an owner for so long that the door had been broken down to get them out. Old Lucy pined for her owner, a sweet man who had been terribly unwell. He’d stopped moving during the night while walking past the front door and, in the morning, the firefighters had to break the door down to get in. Cahir had brought Old Lucy home and Lil Bleater had approached her, as was her duty.

Of course, it wasn’t just Cahir. Rather sheepishly, Eskel arrived, pulling a trailer behind his car late one afternoon.

“What have you got?” Lambert loped out of the house with a grin.

Rather than reply, Eskel opened the trailer and led a limping, grey stallion out. He looked a little chagrined. Scorpion became another staple at the farm. He’d been slated for putting to sleep because of recurrent eye problems. In fact, Eskel had been called out to do the deed, the stable no longer willing to deal with Scorpion’s moon blindness. Instead of being put to sleep, Eskel offered him a safe haven where he could be looked after without any demands from him.

Interestingly, Scorpion had a very different view of the humans than Lil Bleater. While she was loyal to Cahir, often ending up nestled in his arms if she pestered enough, Scorpion was besotted with Eskel. Rightfully so, Lil Bleater was also very fond of him, he was a good man, often sneaking her treats while chastising the other two for spoiling her rotten. However, it all changed when Lambert came home in the middle of the night. Lil Bleater heard him cursing and hopped up to knock her door open, wandering out to see what the noise was. Lights came on in the house and Lil Bleater watched as Eskel and Cahir stumbled out, rubbing pillow creased faces.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Lambert grumbled too quickly. Except, he couldn’t hide whatever it was that he was doing. “Just. Don’t tease, okay? They had nowhere else to go.”

Because Lambert had always maintained that they already had enough animals, didn’t need any more, not when they were barely holding down their jobs and keeping the farm running. Now though, he was red cheeked and tugged on a piece of rope. Finally, a large cat slithered out of the car. She was huge, regal and obviously very spoilt.

“They?” Eskel asked and the car door opened up. Another man hobbled out, looking unsteady on his feet. Immediately, Lambert was rushing round, taking some of the weight off the new arrival’s feet.

“This is Aiden. I, uh, “ Lambert licked his lips nervously. “We got called to the aftermath of a domestic. House was trashed, he’s in custody but it wasn’t safe for Aiden to stay there. Especially not with Mia.”

It was Cahir who stepped forward, taking Aiden’s other side while Eskel scooped up Mia, giving her a quick once over.

“We’ll get a bed made up for you, don’t worry,” Cahir reassured.

Lil Bleater watched them make their slow way into the house. She wasn’t stupid, she knew things. Which was why she wasn’t surprised that Aiden never really left.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (1)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Finally. After months and months of searching for a suitable space, you have found it. Even if it means leave Indiana. After all, you no longer have anything to hold you back there and a change of landscape will do the greatest good. You’ve moved to Roseville, Ohio in order to open your own coffee shop and found locals curious but welcoming to you. Your new apartment, big enough for a couple is certainly simple but with all the decorations you have in your boxes, you will make it as comfortable and warm as you can. You get your apartment keys from James Lawson your landlord, an adorable old man who lives with his wife for forty years.  

He warned you about the hot water system that was shared among all residents, so keep it in mind if you don’t want to have some complaint from them. Rent is reasonable and if you have any problem or just want to talk, you just have to knock on his door. 

“One last thing young girl! Be careful outside! With these little hooligans, filthy little scoundrels who give no respect for their elders, smoking their bullshit drugs and...” he said becoming grumpier before his wife puts his hand on his shoulder

“Calm down my dear...think of your heart. But I agree and that’s not the worst. Robbery and aggressions happen often if they saw you weak or alone. Just for...Fun as they said. It's really worrying to see such a thing when they could do something better for everyone.” She said.

“No worries! If someone try to piss me off, I'll just kick his ass! It’s not the first time and I know it wouldn’t be the last. As my father said: hit a man where it hurts! But thanks for warning me anyway. You answer with that smile of yours before going to your car get your boxes.

It was exhausting and you sigh in relief when you put the last box on the ground to close the door behind you. After two hours of household and storage with some music to give you motivation, you decide to go out to take care of what will soon be your coffee shop.  Located two blocks away, the old building, once a diner, was bigger than you thought. Fortunately, the companies you hired to do work have finished the day before, all that remains is to place the material and decorations, tables and chairs and wait for the delivery of coffee.

“Damn it’s much bigger than I expected. But that’s not bad after all! Still...I have to find a name. Not always the easiest part. The Nebula? Galaxia?  Sugar Star?” you said tilting your head thinking of many names as you enter into the shop.  

Everything was as you imagine. From walls to the smallest decorations, everything, without overloading, reminded space. Pleasant, relaxing, a real place to escape after a busy and stressful day while drinking a good coffee and devouring a slice of pie or other pastry. You start to organise everything, placing seats, tables and chairs to maximize space allowing future customers to move freely without getting in the way. Suddenly you hear someone knocking on the door and when you turn to see who it is, you notice a woman, in her forties, wearing an apron adorned with flowers that stood in front of the entrance.

“Wow...I didn’t think this place would change that much. and I love it! Much more than Joe's old dinner. I assume you're the new owner? I’m Lindsey Parson, I own the flower shop” she said with a bright smile offering her hand.

“Yes ma’am! Nice to meet you!” you answer as you introduced yourself shaking her hand.  

“I hope you’ll enjoy Roseville. And that your business will succeed. When do you think you're going to open it?  

“Oh...Well if all goes well, I think I could welcome my first customers on Wednesday! I just have to...find a name.”

“It's always the hardest thing to do when you open a business. I’m sure you’ll find it. And if you want, I can talk about your coffee to my friends. They’ll be delighted to go in a new place to share some news over a good coffee or tea.  

“Thanks a lot! that’s really nice of you! I think I’ll be happy to live here than in Indiana.”

“If he’s not decided to make you his prey...” whispered Lindsey turning her face outside slightly worried.

You tilted you head at her words. His prey? Who? Who is she talking about? She breathes deeply and turn her face again to you with a little smile like she doesn’t want to scare you. Not when you’ve just arrived here.

“You know I'm not afraid about some weirdo punk or pervert bastard. If someone looks for troubles, I’ll kick them where it hurts: nuts or ass they’ll choose.” you reply by shrugging your shoulders.

“You’ve got guts, but it won't stop Ghostface from killing you if he decided to make you his next victim. Since many months, he killed many persons and no one know who is he. He’s a real shadow, stalking you and waiting for the perfect moment to hit his victim. Even if you’re not afraid, you should be careful, because he will not give you time or opportunity to defend yourself or run away.” said Lindsey.

“Great. I always move in at the right moment. Well, I guess I'm cursed or something.” you say with a sigh. “Cops have no leads to find him? he must have left traces, clues! no crimes and criminals are perfect. Except in thrillers.”

“He’s not called Ghostface for nothing girl. With him It’s like you try to catch the air in your hand, he plays and makes fun of the cops. He humiliates them and it pissed them off. So please, take care of yourself. and If you see something weird call the cops immediately. Well, I’m going back to my shop. See you around! And good luck!”

She waves her hand, and you wave back at her before she leaves. A few minutes later, you leave the coffee shop making sure all the doors are closed. Since coffee delivery doesn't arrive until tomorrow morning, you have the rest of the day and tomorrow to find a name. the hardest is yet to come. You make your way at home and once you arrive, you park and read the newspaper you bought on the road. After what you’ve heard from Lindsey, you better know more about that Ghostface guy. If cops don’t have any clues about him, the journalist who made the article on the other hand, named Jed Olsen, seems to make a real investigation work.  

It's real impressive to see how many details he wrote about the last murder and the victim, a young man named Travis Maloney. Maybe he’s an experienced journalist, working for 25 years, in the fifties, dressed surely with old suspender pants, a slightly mis tied tie, dual focus glasses and an onset of baldness. And also, some smell of tobacco that smokes your nostrils. Imagine all this makes you wince, hope you will never deal with this guy, you will be good at disinfecting the whole apartment after. Once in the building you go to your mailbox to pick up the mail you have transferred as well as some advertisements. As you reach your home, you turned the corner and lost in your throughs you met with someone’s nose.  

“Ouch...damn It hurts. I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention. Are you okay? “you start to say before raising your head to your unfortunate interlocutor.  

Then you freeze. He was a little taller than you, his coppery blond hair almost approaching red, slightly wavy, came to the shoulders to fits his thin face. He was wearing a black shirt covered by a khaki jacket, black pants and shiny brown dress shoes. But what attracted you the most was his piercing blue eyes hidden behind thin rectangular glasses.  He’s handsome, even if he looks like a nerdy boy. He groaned a little as he rubbed his nose before looking at you.  

“Well...at least I can say it’s a way to say hello. I'm fine my nose is not fallen so...you can breathe you need more strength to broke it.” He laughed putting his glasses back in place. “What about you?”

“I’m okay, my brain still okay...even if sometimes I should use it more often to avoid something like this.” You answer with a nervous laugh as you introduced yourself. “You sure everything is okay? I didn’t break your glasses or anything?!”  

“No worries really.” He assured with an angelic smile. Damn he looks like an angel. “Anyways, I have to change them sooner or later so...it’s doesn’t matter. Nice to meet you, I'm Jed Olsen, it’s seems like you’re my new neighbour, I live the door right next to you.”  

You froze again. Okay. Do you remember what you thought before about him? Forget it. Jed Olsen is not an old man that stinks of tobacco but that handsome nerdy boy right in front of you. More he is your neighbour. You mentally slap yourself to have disfigured him in this way.  

“Jed? I don’t want to be rude but you look very young to carry a name too ... Old. When I hear that name, I feel like we're talking about someone who has fifty / sixty years old...No offence.” You reply a little embarrassed.  

“Let’s just say my parents considered me as a mistake. Maybe that’s why they gave me this old name. To remind me that I was not wanted” said Jed.

“Sorry. But at least they wrong! Look at you! You pull off the nerd look very well! If all the nerds, and more all men were physically like you, this would-be paradise on Earth!”

Oh Shit...did you just say this out loud? Yes, you do, and you mentally slap yourself again to say that JUST in front of him. Jed’s eyes blinked for several seconds, a little surprised about what you say before giving you a little smile scratching the back of his head.

“Well, I got to go! I still have storage to do in the apartment and I have to think about two, three little things! You laughed awkwardly “H-have a nice day! See ya !”  

You walk fast to your home door, quickly open and close it after entering inside. You facepalm yourself many times, cursed you in all languages.  

“Good job, pickle brain! For a first good impression It’s a failure. He's going to think I'm an idiot and pervert as a bonus. What did is done anyway...I should focus on the coffee for now. I will find a way to apologize to him later. But first a shower is welcomed! I smell like a camel...and I'm being polite.”  

You spend the rest of the day thinking about the name of your pastries, in harmony with the theme of the coffee as well as the very name of the coffee shop. If it was easy enough for the first one, you come out empty-handed in your name search for your shop. As Lindsey says, it's not the easier part. And she's right.

***

(Well, this is the first time I write a fiction and especially an English fiction because I’m a French potato x) Sorry if my English causes headaches XD Do not hesitate to tell me what you think, I take all positive/negative/neutral opinions! This will allow me to improve my writing talent which is at the same level as my talent in drawing (0/20 in fact XD) if you want a better view of Danny aka Jed Olsen, check out @arkkosun ‘s page who allowed me to use his/her version of our Danny boy! i thank him/her again by the way! So as promised @arkkosun @sleepydaydreamz and @horror-ink here’s my first chapter! And i hope not the last 0.0″)   

[echo-bleu]

straight through the smoke (1)

This is my gift to @killiarious for the 2020 Malec Secret Santa Event, now that the gifters’ identities have been revealed! The plot bunny got away from me, so there will be three chapters. Happy holidays!

[CW: death penalty (but no one dies), mentions of self-harm]

Read on AO3.

At the knock at his door, Magnus puts Madzie down on the ground, letting her run to Catarina. She’s been nervous, not quite understanding what’s going on, and she keeps randomly running up to them to hug them. The other warlocks are upstairs on the roof, in a meditative state to maintain the new wards over New York, while Magnus and his best friend stand ready to move the loft and its inhabitants to the Seelie Realm, if worst comes to worst.

He steels himself before opening the door. It’s the middle of the day, so it can’t be Raphael – Magnus just realizes now that he left him in the Institute on his own earlier this morning – and Luke texted him just a few minutes ago that he was still out on patrol. The Seelie Queen is back in her realm with her henchmen. That means that it can only be Shadowhunters.

Alec.

Magnus isn’t ready to deal with him. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready. Alec lying to him about the Soul Sword, about something that affects Magnus so directly, the safety of his people, isn’t something that Magnus can forgive easily. He understands why Alec did it, and he thinks that with time, he could come to trust Alec again, but he can’t start thinking about it until all of this is over.

And yet he can’t help but worry. Alec is out there, with his siblings and Clary, other people Magnus has come to care for, facing against two monsters. Valentine has proved more than dangerous, and with Jonathan’s help, he may well be unbeatable.

Magnus made the choice to leave them on their own. He chose his people over Alec, and while he would do it again, while he had to do it, the guilt is still eating at him.

He doesn’t know if he feels more hurt or guilty, right now. He feels crushed, more than anything else. He struggles to focus, his thoughts permanently turning back toward Alec. The current stillness, since his warlocks raised the wards, feels like the quiet before the storm, and it has left him with too much time to think.

“What do you—” Magnus starts, opening the door with more force than necessary, but it’s not Alec behind it.

It’s Clary.

“Magnus!” she exclaims as soon as he sees her. She looks twitchy and out of sorts, looking around her before she walks into the loft, almost stepping on Magnus’ feet.

“Biscuit,” Magnus says, forcing his voice to stay cold. He’s too fond of her to be angry, but he really doesn’t want to deal with her right now.

Except that she really seems scared.

“I know I shouldn’t be here,” she says, waving her arms around nervously. “But I had to come.”

Magnus frowns in concern and gently guides her to the living room. Catarina stands up in alarm, while Madzie only looks up from the drawing she’s resumed for a second, unconcerned. Clary, with her small size and her nervousness, doesn’t make a threatening figure. Magnus discretely builds a bubble of silence around Madzie to muffle the sound of their conversations, so she doesn’t hear anything not meant for her little ears.

“Magnus?” Catarina asks suspiciously.

“Biscuit, tell me what’s wrong,” Magnus commands, making Clary sit down in the blue armchair. He waves at Catarina not to worry, but she still goes to stand closer to Madzie, straightening in a defensive posture.

Clary doesn’t even seem to notice. “The Clave took full control of the Institute,” she says. “They...they just stormed in and declared it. They said that the New York Downworld had violated the Accords and—” she trails off, too agitated to speak.

“And what?” Magnus prompts. He feels a leaden weight of anticipation in his stomach. This isn’t good.

“They said that the Downworld Cabinet facilitated it. That Alec—” she meets Magnus’ eyes, panicked. “That Alec colluded with you and betrayed the Clave. Magnus, they’ve arrested him for high treason.”

“What?” Magnus lets out before he can even control his mouth. It feels like a punch to his gut. In all the scenarios he went through, even the darkest ones where Alec got hurt or died by Valentine’s hands, Magnus’ fears were always about the divide between them. Between the Clave and the Seelie Queen, between the Nephilim and the Downworld. Between him and Alec. He never, ever imagined Alec being rejected by his own people.

“They said things about your relationship being unnatural and contaminating the whole Institute,” Clary says sadly. “That it should never have been allowed, that he was a disgrace to all Nephilim.”

Magnus swallows hard. He’s heard these words about himself, of course. He knows how the Clave sees him – barely with any more regard than Valentine himself does. The Circle has never been a true extremist group, not when too many people in power in Alicante agree with them. But to hear this about Alec, for the heinous crime of loving him?

“Where is he now?” he asks.

“In one of the basement cells, I think,” Clary says. “They put all of us on house arrest pending investigation. That means we’re confined to our rooms, essentially. I used a portal rune to come here.”

“If they find out you’re gone—” Magnus starts.

Clary bites her lip. “I know. But I had to do something. I heard them talking. They’ve called off the search for Valentine, and they’re putting Alec on trial today.”

Even Catarina looks shocked at that. Magnus sits down brutally, his legs no longer supporting him. He curses under his breath, if only to let out some of the unbearable tension.

“The Clave’s penalty for high treason…” he mutters.

“Is deruning, or death,” Catarina completes for him. “Magnus—”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Magnus breathes out. “I had to—I had to keep my people safe, Alec understands that—but he’s a Nephilim, he’s supposed to be safe—” He puts his face in his hands.

“Magnus,” Clary calls softly. Magnus looks up, feeling like he’s being crushed by a weight larger than him. “Before they took him away, Alec told us not to contact you. That you couldn’t do anything.”

Against his will, Magnus lets out a noise that sounds too much like a whimper, struggling to breathe around the knot in his throat. He bites down on his fist, trying to calm himself down.

Even facing his own downfall, Alec would think of him first.

“Then why did you come?” Catarina asks Clary, coolly. She has no lost love for Shadowhunters, and she doesn’t know Clary at all. She knows Alec, though, and she knows how much Magnus loves him.

“Because there has to be something that we can do, and Magnus is the most likely to come up with an idea. We can’t let this happen!”

“This is the Clave we’re talking about,” Catarina says. “It’s not about letting it happen. They do what they decide to do, and they have full authority on their soldiers.”

“Magnus, you defended Izzy last year,” Clary says, turning back to Magnus. “Can’t you do it again?”

Magnus shake his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She barely got free, and only because you had the cup as leverage. And her crime was nothing, compared to this. The Clave is corrupt from top to bottom, Alec won’t be freed by legal means.”

“Then what do we do?” Clary asks.

“Nothing,” Catarina says firmly. Magnus looks up at her, and he can see the compassion in her eyes, but she stands her ground. “There’s nothing we can do. Any move against the Clave will be a declaration of war.”

Magnus stands up and starts pacing along the bay windows. “I think we’re past that point,” he says. “We’re already at war. They’re accusing Alec of complicity in a violation of the Accords, for the sole crime of his relationship with me. They’re not trying to arrest Valentine anymore. I think we have to assume that the Circle and the Clave are working together.”

“And you want to do what?” Catarina shits her stance, putting her hands on her hips. “Storm the Institute? Go head-to-head against the entire Clave? Magnus, you have our people to think about. They’re not going to risk their lives to get Alec back. I know you love him, but is he really worth risking all of them?” she points up toward the roof.

Magnus runs a hand down his face. “I already chose them, you, over him once. I broke up with him because I thought I had to choose between being with him, and the safety of my people.” He pauses. “But that was when I thought he would be safe. This is different.”

Clary wrings her hands, looking between them.

“You’re going to put us all in danger,” Catarina says, looking at Madzie, who is still drawing quietly, oblivious to her surroundings in the way only children can be. She can’t hear them, but Magnus still watches her for a moment to make sure that she’s okay.

“No,” he says. “I’m going to get Alec out of there, but I’m going alone. You’re staying here to keep the wards up and prepare to move to the Seelie Realm.”

“The Institute’s wards have been raised against all Downworlders,” Clary warns. “My portal can probably get you in, but—”

“You forget that I am the one who built these wards,” Magnus interrupts her. “I can get through them. I can deactivate them entirely, if I need to. And no Shadowhunter can get in or out of New York right now.”

“Magnus—” Catarina starts, but Magnus glares at her before she tries to convince him not to go. His decision is already made – nothing will stop him from saving Alec’s life. Not now.

She raises her hand in surrender. “Be careful. Come back to us.”

“I will,” Magnus says. “We will.”

*

Clary’s portal brings Magnus straight to Isabelle’s bedroom, and she steps back out to collect Jace from his own. Isabelle’s red-rimmed eyes widen when she sees Magnus and she saunters up to hug him, but she hesitates at the last moment, letting her arms fall back to her sides.

“Magnus,” she murmurs.

Magnus draws her into a hug. “Biscuit told me what happened,” he says.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she whispers brokenly.

Magnus closes his eyes in dismay. “We broke up, but it doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”

“This morning—”

“I was angry, and I was trying to convince myself that I’d made the right decision,” Magnus explains. He’s ashamed of how he behaved at the Cabinet meeting, pretending like he barely knew them, letting the Queen speak for him. He won’t forget Alec’s lost and hurt look any time soon.

Jace and Clary come back at that moment. Isabelle gently pushes Magnus back and steps out of the hug, and Jace sends Magnus a furious glare.

“Calm down,” Magnus says. “I’m here to help.”

“Is that what you call it? Allying with the Seelie Queen? Raising wards around the city that kill any Shadowhunter who tries to leave? Leaving Alec behind?”

“I did what I had to do,” Magnus defends himself coldly. “Alec lied to me. Your people will see mine exterminated without so much as a blink.” He takes a breath to calm himself. “Alexander wasn’t supposed to be arrested. If you want my opinion, you should blame your grandmother. Your Clave.”

Jace almost lunges at him, but Clary holds him back with a hand around his waist. He glares at Magnus some more instead, then turns his back to them and goes to stand by the window.

“You have no idea how he’s been, the past few days, do you?” he says quietly. “When the Inquisitor arrived, he was training. Hand-to-hand, five on one. He refused to use iratzes between fights.”

Magnus takes in a breath. He’s known of Alec’s self-harming tendencies since the beginning of their relationship – how could he not? – but Alec hasn’t had to resort to something this bad in a while.

“Jace, that’s enough,” Isabelle says, just as quietly. “Magnus isn’t responsible for that. Alec’s had a rough year. We all have.”

Jace deflates. He’s absently massaging his parabatai rune with one hand, the other playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. “You’re right,” he says. “It’s been...a lot. And now this.”

“Magnus, I need you to know that—” Isabelle hesitates, biting her lip. “I know why you broke up with Alec, and I get it. He’s heartbroken, but he wants you safe first and foremost. He loves you more than anything.”

“Isabelle, what are you trying to tell me?” Magnus asks, guilt churning in his gut. He doesn’t have the patience for this, not right now.

Isabelle shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable. “Before they arrested him, they gave him the opportunity to renounce you. If he told them your plans and made a public announcement disavowing you and the Cabinet, they would have let him go free and even keep his job. He refused. He didn’t even hesitate.”

Magnus shuts his eyes tightly, his head pounding. “Alexander,” he murmurs in dismay.

Self-sacrificing to a fault. Even when Magnus broke up with him, made it clear that their relationship was over, Alec wouldn’t save his own skin. “He could have done it, bought us time,” Magnus mutters, opening his eyes again. “He had to know that we wouldn’t believe it.”

Isabelle shakes her head. “That’s not Alec. He’ll die for what he believes in. And you’re everything to him. Not just you, but the Cabinet too, everything he’s accomplished to make us better.”

“He once told me that his family was everything to him,” Magnus sighs.

“And you’ve become part of it,” Isabelle says. “It doesn’t matter that you’re not together right now. You’re family.” She puts a hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “That’s why we’re going to get him out. As a family.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“Shit,” Isabelle mutters. “Stay out of sight.” She stands up and, in one smooth move, removes her dress.

“What are you doing?” Jace hisses.

Magnus doesn’t bother averting his eyes. Neither he nor Isabelle are shy when it comes to nudity, and besides, she’s still in her underwear. “Buying us time,” she whispers.

She opens the door brusquely. “What?” she asks, annoyed.

“Whoa,” Magnus hears Raj’s voice. His blood boils. He has no lost love for this Shadowhunter, and if he’s working with the people trying to harm Alec— “What are you doing in here?”

“Changing,” Isabelle rolls her eyes.

“We’re supposed to escort you to the ceremony room,” Raj says. His voice isn’t as assured as it usually is. “The trial is about to start.”

Isabelle closes her eyes. “Already? Raj, what the fuck is going on out there?”

Raj sighs. “I don’t know. They said the warlocks raised wards around the city. We can’t get in or out. They’re expediting the trial, they want to have it done as soon as possible.”

Isabelle clasps a hand over her mouth. “Fuck,” she mutters. “Raj, you know he didn’t betray anyone, right?” She sounds small and vulnerable, and Magnus can’t tell how much of that is an act.

“I don’t like Bane, but Alec’s a good leader,” Raj says. “He doesn’t deserve this. But we can’t do anything. Come on, I have orders. We still have to get Jace and Clary.”

Isabelle runs a hand through her hair. “Give me a minute to get dressed?”

“Okay,” Raj grumbles. “But hurry up.”

Isabelle shuts the door firmly and turns back to Magnus and the others, her panic obvious on her face. “It’s too soon,” she whispers. “This can’t be happening.”

“We can’t get him out now,” Jace says. “There will be too many people. Even you can’t fight several hundreds Shadowhunters,” he adds to Magnus.

“How many of them are loyal to Alec?” Magnus asks, a plan starting to form in his head.

Isabelle bites her lip. “Enough to go against the Clave? I don’t know. Alec is well-liked, but we’re trained to respond to commands. It will be hard to go against direct orders, and many won’t be willing to risk their lives.” She steps back into her dress, quickly pulling it over her body.

“Even if the Inquisitor condemns him for something they know he didn’t do?” Magnus asks.

Jace takes a breath. “Alec is their Head. I’m the Inquisitor’s grandson. If we can show them another path, a clear way for them to follow us without too much danger…”

Isabelle’s eyes light up. “Since Alec became Head, we’ve had a lot of Shadowhunters requesting to be assigned to the Institute because they’re unsatisfied with the Clave, for a variety of reasons. Most of them will see that this whole trial is a sham. And even an expedited trial will take days, days we can spend convincing them. If we time it right, I’d say we can get...maybe a third of them to help.”

“If we time it right?” Clary repeats.

“If they sentence Alec to death,” Magnus understands in a breath. “It has to be last resort. If I can just get Alec out—”

“They’ll chase you wherever you go, and it will paint you in the worst light,” Jace says. “If they can claim that you kidnapped him, it will be an all-out war.”

Before Magnus can answer, Raj pounds on the door. “Isabelle, we have to go!”

Isabelle wrings her hands in anguish and turns to Clary. “Get yourself and Jace back to your rooms before they can see you’re gone. Magnus, can you glamour yourself invisible?”

“Yes,” Magnus nods. “I have to make some calls first, secure us the support of the Downworld. I doubt the Seelie Queen will help, but Luke and Raphael will. They only agreed to this deal with the Seelie Queen because I did.”

Jace’s face contorts in anger briefly, but he doesn’t say anything. This isn’t the time. Clary draws her portal rune in the air. “Go,” Isabelle says. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Magnus snaps his fingers to call his magic to his hand, ready for the glamour. “When you get there, start passing the word. Be discreet. I’ll handle Alec.”

As Jace and Clary walk through the portal, Isabelle gives Magnus a long look. “You saved me from being deruned once, Magnus, because Alec asked you to. I know you still love him. Can we count on you?”

“If you couldn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” Magnus says coolly.

It seems to convince her. “Then let’s do this.”

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, killiarious!

For @killiarious. The plot bunny got away from me, so there will be three chapters.

Read On AO3

*****

straight through the smoke

At the knock at his door, Magnus puts Madzie down on the ground, letting her run to Catarina. She’s been nervous, not quite understanding what’s going on, and she keeps randomly running up to them to hug them. The other warlocks are upstairs on the roof, in a meditative state to maintain the new wards over New York, while Magnus and his best friend stand ready to move the loft and its inhabitants to the Seelie Realm, if worst comes to worst.

He steels himself before opening the door. It’s the middle of the day, so it can’t be Raphael – Magnus just realizes now that he left him in the Institute on his own earlier this morning – and Luke texted him just a few minutes ago that he was still out on patrol. The Seelie Queen is back in her realm with her henchmen. That means that it can only be Shadowhunters.

Alec.

Magnus isn’t ready to deal with him. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready. Alec lying to him about the Soul Sword , about something that affects Magnus so directly, the safety of his people , isn’t something that Magnus can forgive easily. He understands why Alec did it , and he thinks that with time, he could come to trust Alec again, but he can’t start thinking about it until all of this is over.

And yet he can’t help but worry. Alec is out there, with his siblings and Clary, other people Magnus has come to care for, facing against two monsters. Valentine has proved more than dangerous, and with Jonathan’s help, he may well be unbeatable.

Magnus made the choice to leave them on their own. He chose his people over Alec, and while he would do it again, while he had to do it, the guilt is still eating at him.

He doesn’t know if he feels more hurt or guilty, right now. He feels crushed, more than anything else. He struggles to focus, his thoughts permanently turning back toward Alec. The current stillness, since his warlocks raised the wards, feels like the quiet before the storm, and it has left him with too much time to think.

“What do you—” Magnus starts, opening the door with more force than necessary, but it’s not Alec behind it.

It’s Clary.

“Magnus!” she exclaims as soon as he sees her. She looks twitchy and out of sorts, looking around her before she walks into the loft, almost stepping on Magnus’ feet.

“Biscuit,” Magnus says, forcing his voice to stay cold. He’s too fond of her to be angry, but he really doesn’t want to deal with her right now.

Except that she really seems scared.

“I know I shouldn’t be here,” she says, waving her arms around nervously. “But I had to come.”

Magnus frowns in concern and gently guides her to the living room. Catarina stands up in alarm, while Madzie only looks up from the drawing she’s resumed for a second, unconcerned. Clary, with her small size and her nervousness, doesn’t make a threatening figure. Magnus discretely builds a bubble of silence around Madzie to muffle the sound of their conversations, so she doesn’t hear anything not meant for her little ears .

“Magnus?” Catarina asks suspiciously.

“Biscuit, tell me what’s wrong,” Magnus commands, making Clary sit down in the blue armchair. He waves at Catarina not to worry, but she still goes to stand closer to Madzie, straightening in a defensive posture.

Clary doesn’t even seem to notice. “ The Clave took full control of the Institute,” she says. “They...they just stormed in and declared it. They said that the New York Downworld had violated the Accords and—” she trails off, too agitated to speak.

“And what?” Magnus prompts. He feels a leaden weight of anticipation in his stomach. This isn’t good.

“They said that the Downworld Cabinet facilitated it. That Alec—” she meets Magnus’ eyes, panicked. “That Alec colluded with you and betrayed the Clave. Magnus, they’ve arrested him for high treason.”

“What?” Magnus lets out before he can even control his mouth. It feels like a punch to his gut. In all the scenarios he went through, even the darkest ones where Alec got hurt or died by Valentine’s hands, Magnus’ fears were always about the divide between them. Between the Clave and the Seelie Queen, between the Nephilim and the Downworld. Between him and Alec. He never, ever imagined Alec being rejected by his own people.

“They said things about your relationship being unnatural and contaminating the whole Institute,” Clary says sadly. “That it should never have been allowed, that he was a disgrace to all Nephilim.”

Magnus swallows hard. He’s heard these words about himself, of course. He knows how the Clave sees him – barely with any more regard than Valentine himself does. The Circle has never been a true extremist group, not when too many people in power in Alicante agree with them. But to hear this about Alec, for the heinous crime of loving him?

“Where is he now?” he asks.

“In one of the basement cells, I think,” Clary says. “They put all of us on house arrest pending investigation. That means we’re confined to our rooms, essentially. I used a portal rune to come here.”

“If they find out you’re gone—” Magnus starts.

Clary bites her lip. “I know. But I had to do something . I heard them talking. They’ve called off the search for Valentine, and they’re putting Alec on trial today. ”

Even Catarina looks shocked at that. Magnus sits down brutally, his legs no longer supporting him. He curses under his breath, if only to let out some of the unbearable tension.

“The Clave’s penalty for high treason…” he mutters.

“Is deruning, or death,” Catarina completes for him. “Magnus—”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Magnus breathes out. “I had to—I had to keep my people safe, Alec understands that—but he’s a Nephilim, he’s supposed to be safe—” He puts his face in his hands.

“Magnus,” Clary calls softly. Magnus looks up, feeling like he’s being crushed by a weight larger than him. “Before they took him away, Alec told us not to contact you. That you couldn’t do anything.”

A gainst his will, Magnus lets out a noise that sounds too much like a whimper, struggling to breathe around the knot in his throat. He bites down on his fist, trying to calm himself down .

Even facing his own downfall, Alec would think of him first.

“Then why did you come?” Catarina asks Clary, coolly. She has no lost love for Shadowhunters, and she doesn’t know Clary at all. She knows Alec, though, and she knows how much Magnus loves him.

“Because there has to be something that we can do, and Magnus is the most likely to come up with an idea. We can’t let this happen!”

“This is the Clave we’re talking about,” Catarina says. “It’s not about letting it happen. They do what they decide to do, and they have full authority on their soldiers.”

“Magnus, you defended Izzy last year,” Clary says, turning back to Magnus. “Can’t you do it again?”

Magnus shake his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She barely got free, and only because you had the cup as leverage. And her crime was nothing, compared to this. The Clave is corrupt from top to bottom, Alec won’t be freed by legal means.”

“Then what do we do?” Clary asks.

“Nothing,” Catarina says firmly. Magnus looks up at her, and he can see the compassion in her eyes, but she stands her ground. “There’s nothing we can do. Any move against the Clave will be a declaration of war.”

Magnus stands up and starts pacing along the bay windows. “I think we’re past that point,” he says. “We’re already at war. They’re accusing Alec of complicity in a violation of the Accords, for the sole crime of his relationship with me. They’re not trying to arrest Valentine anymore. I think we have to assume that the Circle and the Clave are working together.”

“And you want to do what?” Catarina shits her stance, putting her hands on her hips. “Storm the Institute? Go head-to-head against the entire Clave? Magnus, you have our people to think about. They’re not going to risk their lives to get Alec back. I know you love him, but is he really worth risking all of them?” she points up toward the roof.

Magnus runs a hand down his face. “I already chose them, you, over him once. I broke up with him because I thought I had to choose between being with him, and the safety of my people.” He pauses. “But that was when I thought he would be safe. This is different.”

Clary wrings her hands, looking between them.

“You’re going to put us all in danger,” Catarina says, looking at Madzie, who is still drawing quietly, oblivious to her surroundings in the way only children can be. She can’t hear them, but Magnus still watches her for a moment to make sure that she’s okay.

“No,” he says. “I’m going to get Alec out of there, but I’m going alone. You’re staying here to keep the wards up and prepare to move to the Seelie Realm.”

“The Institute’s wards have been raised against all Downworlders,” Clary warns. “My portal can probably get you in, but—”

“You forget that I am the one who built these wards,” Magnus interrupts her. “I can get through them. I can deactivate them entirely, if I need to. And no Shadowhunter can get in or out of New York right now.”

“Magnus—” Catarina starts, but Magnus glares at her before she tries to convince him not to go. His decision is already made – nothing will stop him from saving Alec’s life. Not now.

She raises her hand in surrender. “Be careful. Come back to us.”

“I will,” Magnus says. “We will.”

*

Clary’s portal brings Magnus straight to Isabelle’s bedroom, and she steps back out to collect Jace from his own. Isabelle’s red-rimmed eyes widen when she sees Magnus and she saunters up to hug him, but she hesitates at the last moment, letting her arms fall back to her sides.

“Magnus,” she murmurs.

Magnus draws her into a hug. “Biscuit told me what happened,” he says.

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she whispers brokenly.

Magnus closes his eyes in dismay. “We broke up, but it doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”

“This morning—”

“I was angry, and I was trying to convince myself that I’d made the right decision,” Magnus explains. He’s ashamed of how he behaved at the Cabinet meeting, pretending like he barely knew them, letting the Queen speak for him. He won’t forget Alec’s lost and hurt look any time soon.

Jace and Clary come back at that moment. Isabelle gently pushes Magnus back and steps out of the hug, and Jace sends Magnus a furious glare.

“Calm down,” Magnus says. “I’m here to help.”

“Is that what you call it? Allying with the Seelie Queen? Raising wards around the city that kill any Shadowhunter who tries to leave? Leaving Alec behind?”

“I did what I had to do,” Magnus defends himself coldly. “Alec lied to me. Your people will see mine exterminated without so much as a blink.” He takes a breath to calm himself. “Alexander wasn’t supposed to be arrested. If you want my opinion, you should blame your grandmother. Your Clave.”

Jace almost lunges at him, but Clary holds him back with a hand around his waist. He glares at Magnus some more instead, then turns his back to them and goes to stand by the window.

“You have no idea how he’s been, the past few days, do you?” he says quietly. “When the Inquisitor arrived, he was training. Hand-to-hand, five on one. He refused to use iratzes between fights.”

Magnus takes in a breath. He’s known of Alec’s self-harming tendencies since the beginning of their relationship – how could he not? – but Alec hasn’t had to resort to something this bad in a while.

“Jace, that’s enough,” Isabelle says, just as quietly. “Magnus isn’t responsible for that. Alec’s had a rough year. We all have.”

Jace deflates. He’s absently massaging his parabatai rune with one hand, the other playing with a loose thread on his sleeve. “You’re right,” he says. “It’s been...a lot. And now this.”

“Magnus, I need you to know that—” Isabelle hesitates, biting her lip. “I know why you broke up with Alec, and I get it. He’s heartbroken, but he wants you safe first and foremost. He loves you more than anything.”

“Isabelle, what are you trying to tell me?” Magnus asks, guilt churning in his gut. He doesn’t have the patience for this, not right now.

Isabelle shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable. “Before they arrested him, they gave him the opportunity to renounce you. If he told them your plans and made a public announcement disavowing you and the Cabinet, they would have let him go free and even keep his job. He refused. He didn’t even hesitate.”

Magnus shuts his eyes tightly, his head pounding. “Alexander,” he murmurs in dismay.

Self-sacrificing to a fault. Even when Magnus broke up with him, made it clear that their relationship was over, Alec wouldn’t save his own skin. “He could have done it, bought us time,” Magnus mutters, opening his eyes again. “He had to know that we wouldn’t believe it.”

Isabelle shakes her head. “That’s not Alec. He’ll die for what he believes in. And you’re everything to him. Not just you, but the Cabinet too, everything he’s accomplished to make us better.”

��He once told me that his family was everything to him,” Magnus sighs.

“And you’ve become part of it,” Isabelle says. “It doesn’t matter that you’re not together right now. You’re family.” She puts a hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “That’s why we’re going to get him out. As a family.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“Shit,” Isabelle mutters. “Stay out of sight.” She stands up and, in one smooth move, removes her dress.

“What are you doing?” Jace hisses.

Magnus doesn’t bother averting his eyes. Neither he nor Isabelle are shy when it comes to nudity, and besides, she’s still in her underwear. “Buying us time,” she whispers.

She opens the door brusquely. “What?” she asks, annoyed.

“Whoa,” Magnus hears Raj’s voice. His blood boils. He has no lost love for this Shadowhunter, and if he’s working with the people trying to harm Alec— “What are you doing in here?”

“Changing,” Isabelle rolls her eyes.

“We’re supposed to escort you to the ceremony room,” Raj says. His voice isn’t as assured as it usually is. “The trial is about to start.”

Isabelle closes her eyes. “Already? Raj, what the fuck is going on out there?”

Raj sighs. “I don’t know. They said the warlocks raised wards around the city. We can’t get in or out. They’re expediting the trial, they want to have it done as soon as possible.”

Isabelle clasps a hand over her mouth. “Fuck,” she mutters. “Raj, you know he didn’t betray anyone, right?” She sounds small and vulnerable, and Magnus can’t tell how much of that is an act.

“I don’t like Bane, but Alec’s a good leader,” Raj says. “He doesn’t deserve this. But we can’t do anything. Come on, I have orders. We still have to get Jace and Clary.”

Isabelle runs a hand through her hair. “Give me a minute to get dressed?”

“Okay,” Raj grumbles. “But hurry up.”

Isabelle shuts the door firmly and turns back to Magnus and the others, her panic obvious on her face. “It’s too soon,” she whispers. “This can’t be happening.”

“We can’t get him out now,” Jace says. “There will be too many people. Even you can’t fight several hundreds Shadowhunters,” he adds to Magnus.

“How many of them are loyal to Alec?” Magnus asks, a plan starting to form in his head.

I sabelle bites her lip. “Enough to go against the Clave? I don’t know. Alec is well-liked, but we’re trained to respond to commands. It will be hard to go against direct orders, and many won’t be willing to risk their lives.” She steps back into her dress, quickly pulling it over her body.

“Even if the Inquisitor condemns him for something they know he didn’t do?” Magnus asks.

Jace takes a breath. “Alec is their Head. I’m the Inquisitor’s grandson. If we can show them another path, a clear way for them to follow us without too much danger…”

Isabelle’s eyes light up. “Since Alec became Head, we’ve had a lot of Shadowhunters requesting to be assigned to the Institute because they’re unsatisfied with the Clave, for a variety of reasons. Most of them will see that this whole trial is a sham. And even an expedited trial will take days, days we can spend convincing them. If we time it right, I’d say we can get...maybe a third of them to help.”

“If we time it right?” Clary repeats.

“If they sentence Alec to death,” Magnus understands in a breath. “It has to be last resort. If I can just get Alec out—”

“They’ll chase you wherever you go, and it will paint you in the worst light,” Jace says. “If they can claim that you kidnapped him, it will be an all-out war.”

B efore Magnus can answer, Raj pounds on the door. “Isabelle, we have to go!”

Isabelle wrings her hands in anguish and turns to Clary. “Get yourself and Jace back to your rooms before they can see you’re gone. Magnus, can you glamour yourself invisible?”

“Yes,” Magnus nods. “I have to make some calls first, secure us the support of the Downworld. I doubt the Seelie Queen will help, but Luke and Raphael will. They only agreed to this deal with the Seelie Queen because I did.”

J ace’s face contorts in anger briefly, but he doesn’t say anything. This isn’t the time. Clary draws her portal rune in the air. “Go,” Isabelle says. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Magnus snaps his fingers to call his magic to his hand, ready for the glamour. “When you get there, start passing the word. Be discreet. I’ll handle Alec.”

As Jace and Clary walk through the portal, Isabelle gives Magnus a long look. “You saved me from being deruned once, Magnus, because Alec asked you to. I know you still love him. Can we count on you?”

“If you couldn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” Magnus says coolly.

It seems to convince her. “Then let’s do this.”

TBC on AO3!