#dont cross his path he’ll shoot you

[dragomircho]

daily frog | cowboy

[consumeconstantly]

Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch. 5

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3

3:00AM | CoffeeVamp: bb bat update us TheOG: ^^ more info on the situation in paris

3:28AM | Demonspawn: It is difficult to obtain information on Hawkmoth. The butterflies disperse after they are cleansed, and before they land their target, they don’t show up electronically.  Coffee Vamp: o how the mighty have fallen i thought u said u could best me bb boi

3:42AM | Demonspawn: I’d like to see you do better. Coffee Vamp: IS THAT A CHALLENGE Coffee Vamp: ill take u up on that gimme 24 hours and ur going down TheOG: he has had a whole month so dont be too sure of that LadyLady: would you guys SHUT UP its two and some of us have jobs to do Coffee Vamp: cmon babs u luv us dont deny it LadyLady: Don’t make me hunt you down, Tim. Coffee Vamp: oOooO proper punctuation im shaking TheOG: just shut off notifications Babs TheOG: Bruce does Jesus: i don’t think the man has checked this chat in years Coffee Vamp: wdym brucie checks the chat all the time hes just a silent lurker Coffee Vamp: he doesnt even set himself to invisible

3:57AM | Daddy is away. Coffee Vamp: im so glad i have admin privileges imagine if i didnt bruce would have a boring normal nickname like his actual name LadyLady: good lord, why am I even in this chat?? Daddy: You’re supposed to keep them under control. Coffee Vamp: SEE I TOLD U BRUCE IS A SILENT LURKER> THIS. IS. SOLID. PROOF. IN YOUR FACE TheOG: nobody said otherwise Coffee Vamp: also how are the people have you made friends Jesus: Demon spawn? Making friends? Id be less surprised if he told us he has a new fling Coffee Vamp: is j right? Got a winter fling? 

4:12AM | Coffee Vamp: ur lack of a response tells us nothing  TheOG: im sure he’s just adopted his usual icy persona Coffee Vamp: haha hes the bb of so many things Coffee Vamp: bb vamp bb demon spawn ice ice bb Coffee Vamp: getitt im so funny

4:36AM | Coffee Vamp: guys?

“I told you I could get her to write her number on your cup,” Marinette grins with pride.

“And I told you I didn’t want her to.” Damian scowls and kicks a pebble in his path.

“You’re still wearing the clothes I picked out for you,” she points out.

“You told me to wear it. I wore it. I’m not interested in her.” 

Marinette squints at Damian, evaluates whether he’s telling the truth or not. “Huh, you really aren’t interested. I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t wear the other outfit I picked out for you-- that one would have gotten her to ask you out on the spot.”

Damian groans. “We’re going to have to find a new coffee place.”

“Or we could just come when she’s not on shift and run away like mice when we do see her?”

Damian gives her The Look.

“But they have good coffee here,” Marinette whines.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before dressing me up and sending me to my death.”

“It’s not my fault! You only have your parents to blame for your looks.”

It’s true; both of Damian’s parents are good-looking. His whole family is, actually, adopted or not. All of the good looking people he meets are talented and have a tragic life story. Which is the cause and which is the effect, Damian isn’t sure. But it holds true even in Paris. All he has to do is look at Marinette or Adrien, though he’s not a hundred percent sure where the tragedy kicks in for Marinette. Probably the time when she was at odds with Lila, but he hasn’t looked much into the situation. He can even use Lila Rossi as an example. She has even worse color coordination than Damian is, but her features are model worthy. Lila Rossi is also definitely fucked up in ways that Damian doesn’t care to explore.

The effects of Marinette’s well-placed compliments has Damian thinking about himself in a positive manner that he never has before. Bruce is always stingy with praise, and the other senior members of the Justice League of America see him as another Robin that doesn’t need praise because competency comes with the mantle. Dick and Barbara compliment him occasionally, but that’s rarer now that his place is more firmly cemented in the family. Damian doesn’t think he’s ever had someone so willing to genuinely compliment him. Marinette’s compliments extend to more than just his looks, as well. She praises his technological skills as he sets up her website and has complimented him as he helps her out with whatever altercations she inevitably comes across on the streets. If he reveals his skills as Robin, reveals himself as Damian Wayne, will he receive even more praise?

“But since we did buy you that absolute knockout of an outfit, you’re going to have to wear it eventually. So whose heart do you want to steal?”

“I don’t want a relationship,” Damian repeats. They seem like more effort than they’re worth, and he always sees couples fighting and complaining about each other. Plus, they have to make time for each other and his alter ego doesn’t allow for that, though he supposes that he isn't Robin. At least, not right now.

“You don’t need to want a relationship just to flirt with somebody. Who’s it going to be? The intern at the Louvre? My parent’s newest hire? Oooh, how about Nicolette?” Marinette’s voice takes on a more mischievous tone. 

Damian will give Marinette this much: her taste in the aesthetics of people is far from bad. The intern from the Louvre is two hundred pounds of lean muscle with a devil-may-care smile and a deep, belly laugh that makes people laugh with him, but Damian and he don’t have anything in common. Her parent’s new hire is knockout gorgeous, with warm brown eyes, and definitely the kind of girl Damian would have gone for as a one night stand back in Gotham. However, he’s also 98% sure that she has a very possessive boyfriend who stops by the bakery every time she has a shift. Nicolette is considered her college’s belle, and her intense gaze paired with her surprisingly friendly demeanor might have been appealing to Damian if she weren’t ten years older than him. 

“I’m not into any of them,” he says, simply.

“Then who are you into? Surely someone has caught your eye in the past month?” Marinette looks genuinely curious, but her expression shifts into horror. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I never asked your preferences, if I was being insensitive, I’m sorry, I mean I’m pan, but you absolutely don’t have to tell me, it’s your right if you’re not comfortable.”

Damian does look slightly uncomfortable now that she’s looking at him more closely. His arms are crossed over each other, across his chest, and his hair is tousled. Then, he lets out a small laugh, and Marinette melts. “It’s fine, Pigtails. All of the people you listed are attractive, but I’m not attracted to them. I’m more of a personality guy, though I can’t say that personality has stopped me from things more than dates before.”

He’s had his fair share of hook-ups and makeout sessions in the past when feeling particularly frustrated with something that wasn’t going his way, though his primary method of relief is through sparring. Short missions and one night stands go fairly well together; he doesn’t ever have to deal with people wanting long term relationships, and even if they do, he’s gone before they know it. So far, he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in Paris, but then again, he’s only been here for a month and this is a long term mission. Whatever time he’s not with Marinette or at school is dedicated to piecing together the mystery that is the Miraculous and trying to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity. 

“Oh,” Marinette continues to blush.

She’s clearly too embarrassed to bring up any other topic, so Damian decides that he’ll shoot the same conversation topic back at her. Marinette is attractive, and people she meets ask for her numbers and dates often enough. She’ll accept the former if they aren’t a total creep, but she always turns down requests for dates.

“And you? Why aren’t you out there questing for love? No crushes or significant others that I need to beat off with a stick?”

This does manage to lessen her flush. She frowns, turns something over in her mind. 

“No crushes right now, no. I used to have a huge crush on Adrien just a year ago. He’s such a sweet person, but we don’t see eye to eye on important matters.” And also not into sex, either. Even physical affection hits him the wrong way sometimes, which makes Marinette worry even further for his well being with Lila’s constant touches. Still, he hasn’t said anything, and Lila hasn’t done anything more than grasp his arm or shoulders every now and then, to reassure the class that yes, they are the golden couple. Marinette also suspects that he is very unwilling to talk about the whole situation in general, and it’s not as though they’re super close.

Of course she had a crush on Adrien. Damian can see it now, Marinette looking at Adrien with her big blue eyes, her lashes fluttering when she gets close to him. Stuttering when she gets embarrassed or when she gets close to him. It makes his lungs constrict, but he’s not sure why.

“As for past relationships, there’s only really Luka. We had a pretty good run, but he’s out of the country, touring. He wanted to try long distance, but I didn’t really want that. But he’s respectful-- there’s no need to beat him off with a stick or anything.”

“I’m surprised a pretty girl like you doesn’t have more suitors,” Damian says, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk as they walk towards the park.

Marinette gags. “There are some other people who have been interested, but I wouldn’t exactly consider them relationship material. If you’re going after a girl just because she looks exotic, that’s sort of nasty. I guess I’m just unlucky in love.”

“At least you’re not as bad off as Ladybug is,” Damian jokes.

She looks at him strangely. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, first there was that creepy sculptor who must have been twice her age, then there’s Chat Noir who keeps flirting with her despite her requests not to, plus all of the random love akumas. I’m not even going to talk about the hordes of guys who chase after her, trying to get a date just because she’s a superhero. It’s not even like she can kick them between the legs because she has an image to uphold and all that.” He smirks, nudges her with his arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that with some of your stalkers.”

“Oh. You’re right, huh. Though, I don’t think Chat Noir has actually flirted for a while now.”  Chat Noir has been very subdued as of late, and it makes Ladybug worry.

Marinette feels uncomfortable with the way the conversation has shifted. How does Damian know about all of these past akuma attacks? As far as Marinette is aware, most information about anything Miraculous related is difficult to get a hold of abroad, largely because the Miraculous try to hide their existence as best they can, and partially because Mayor Bourgeois doesn’t want word to get out that he hasn’t flushed a supervillain terrorist out even though he’s had three years to do it.

“Copycat happened three years ago.” It’s a question, almost.

“I figure I might as well keep up with the heroes of Paris. I’m here and they’re interesting.” Damian figures this is as good a time as any to bring up his interest in Hawkmoth. Marinette has been nothing but helpful and she’s definitely the kind of person whose heart is in the right place. Not to mention that she’s definitely smart and seems impartial; the one time he asked her about her thoughts on the heroes, he found out that she didn’t see them as perfect. She was able to critique Ladybug in full, which seemed pretty odd considering the rest of Paris seemed to have nothing but glowing praise for the heroine. “You’ve had some awful luck with akumas yourself. Weird how Ladybug didn’t show up when you got kidnapped by Evillustrator. One of the only times she didn’t show up for an akuma.”

“And what happened to the other heroes? It’s mostly Ladybug now. She must be in an awful state with her civilian life.” He looks off to the park, occasionally flicking his attention back Marinette’s face, evaluating her expression.

She catches his eyes and he swiftly looks away, looking almost nervous. Marinette stiffens. He knows, he knows, he knows, he can’t know. But how? How does he know that she’s Ladybug? She hasn’t let anything slip around him. She's been careful not to. Everything she’s ever said about Ladybug has been brief and curt, taking on an almost angry tone.

“If you’re so interested in Parisian heroes, I’m sure you saw the press conference Ladybug and Chat Noir gave last year about why the other heroes would be showing up less often.” Marinette keeps her voice carefully neutral. She needs to play this safe. She’s probably over reacting-- she’s been on edge with Hawkmoth sending out an akuma attack nearly every single day for the past few months.

Damian shakes his head. “It didn’t seem like good reasoning. Ladybug and Chat Noir are too untrained. They haven’t beat two villains in three years. They should let someone else take over.” 

Marinette has come across a good number of Ladybug and Chat Noir haters throughout her time. Those who dislike the Parisian heroes often make the exact same arguments Damian is now. That they’re not fast enough. That they should have taken down Hawkmoth and Mayura already. This is nothing new to her, though it does hurt hearing it from Damian, for some reason. She can’t even argue with most of the points he’s brought up. Going mostly solo was because of her own, selfish reasons. She really should have beaten Hawkmoth and Mayura by now. 

“The only thing they have going for them right now is that they’re keeping their Miraculous out of Hawkmoth’s hands.” She pretends that the reason why Chat Noir doesn’t show up to battle is to ensure that Hawkmoth can’t get both of the Miraculous in one fell swoop. It feels hopeless to fight villain after villain without any movement forwards. Her mind wanders to the increasing frequency of akumas and smiles, sardonically. “Some people think it’s only a matter of time until Ladybug and Chat Noir lose.”

“Hawkmoth almost seems to be the better strategist.” The two of them pass store front after store front. “Do you ever wonder what they look like, under the mask? Who they are?”

Marinette stares at the concrete underneath her feet. Hawkmoth, the better strategist? Laughable, and entirely incorrect. Even the people who hate Ladybug admit that her plans almost always work out, and that her plans are second to none. Really the only person who can possibly think that Hawkmoth is a better strategist is--

She can’t think like that. Damian is her friend. He’s just curious about Paris. Her lack of sleep and increase in paranoia re making her imagine things that are impossible. Besides, Damian isn’t on her list of suspects-- he told her he’s only been here for a short time, and Hawkmoth’s Miraculous definitely has a limited range. It’s a real pity that the world of Miraculous makes concrete evidence hard to come by, otherwise, Marinette likes to think Hawkmoth would have been behind bars already. 

“No,” she lies. Hawkmoth haunts her dreams and every waking hour. She spends hours and hours on theories and scouring out information and people who fit the clues she’s painstakingly pieced together. “Not really.”

Damian’s eyes are a piercing green, and for a moment, Marinette thinks she stops breathing. “Is that so? I’m really interested in who Ladybug is under the mask. I’d love the opportunity to talk to her in person, especially about her Miraculous. The powers she has are… very interesting.”

No. There’s no way that Damian can be Hawkmoth, right? This is all just her paranoia speaking. Damian is just a foreigner who is interested in super heroes. It’s no biggie. Still, she can’t shake off the idea that there’s more to Damian than meets the eye. The way he walks-- no, prowls-- commands respect. Marinette can tell that he knows how to fight, and knows how to fight well. He’s very good at finding information on people-- she sent a whole case file to her on Renee and his situation with his mother within twenty four hours of going into the precinct, complete with video evidence Marinette knows should have been impossible to procure without hacking-- and keeps up with her critiques on Ladybug and Chat Noir’s techniques like he’s watched their battles over and over again. He remembers akuma battles Marinette has half forgotten, because they happened so long ago.

She stares up at him, hands shoved in the pockets of the jacket she chose for him when they went on their wardrobe makeover. Damian is surprisingly wealthy; he purchased anything she even glanced at with passing approval. He looks straight forward, apparently waiting for some response from her. Just because Damian is her friend, doesn’t mean she can immediately expunge him from her list of suspects. So far, she has taken all of Damian’s words at face value. It didn’t matter to her that he rarely talks about his family or his life before Paris. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t brought her to his home during all of the weeks that they’ve been hanging out together. Really, Marinette just figured that he had a rocky relationship with his family, and that he may have been on the poorer side and was embarrassed to show her where he lived. But clearly. Damian is well off enough to afford brand name clothes without batting an eye. Things aren’t adding up. All of the red flags that she’s blatantly ignored start to crop up in her head.

The book on the species of butterflies that akumas are made of, tucked under his arm. The way he showed up after every single akuma attack when she rarely saw him in the area before or during it. His knowledge of the three languages that form the basis of the Miraculous Tome-- Mandarin, Arabic, and English.

If he is Hawkmoth, what sort of emotions would he be feeling right now? Some sort of euphoria, maybe, realizing that he could get infinitely closer to Ladybug when she is Marinette. Anticipation, too. Has Marinette been hanging out with a super villain for the past month? Has she really come to the point where she can call a supervillain her best friend?

Marinette takes another look at Damian’s outfit. Master Fu said that the Miraculous Hawkmoth owns is in the shape of a brooch. Marinette sees no such object on Damian, which could either mean that he’s not Hawkmoth or that he’s just been taking it off whenever he’s with her. She’s really hoping it’s not the second option.

She needs to gather her thoughts, make a plan on how to proceed. When she’s sure that Damian isn’t looking, Marinette sets off the ringtone that is saved for her Maman’s texts and calls. This catches Damian’s attention, and she waves looks up from her phone as though she’s responding. 

“Maman wants me to do a delivery. If you’re looking for more information on the whole superhero situation in Paris, I can get you Alya’s number. She runs the Ladyblog-- I’m sure she’d be glad to talk with you.” Alya also has some of the worst conspiracy theories that Marinette has ever seen. She doesn’t often keep abreast of what the Ladyblog’s portrayal of Ladybug is, but back when Marinette and Alya were friends, she was subjected to wild theories that made her stomach nauseous with how little logic there was. Which means that if-- if-- Damian is actually Hawkmoth, he might be thrown off by what she says.

“I’ll see you on Monday? Jagged texted me last night and wants me to change the embroidery on his commission.” This isn’t exactly a lie; Jagged wants one of the smaller details to be changed, but it certainly won’t take as long as she’s suggesting. Marinette hopes that it’s enough of an excuse to get Damian off her back for the rest of today and tomorrow while she reevaluates her game plans and life choices. 

Damian waves her off. “I don’t think that Ladyblogger girl knows anymore than I do. She’s of no help to me. I’ll see you on Monday.”

#

Marinette’s reaction to Damian’s questions are weird. There’s an underlying tension that she exuded before they parted ways, and he’s still thinking about it a day later.

Marinette, who he always finds near an akuma attack right after it occurs. Marinette, who is emotionally and physically superior to most other Parisians. Marinette, who hasn’t been akumatized in a class full of idiots and other victims. Marinette, who doesn’t like Ladybug even though she seems like a fairly competent and kind hero, despite the fact that she hasn’t caught Hawkmoth yet. Marinette, who rarely talks about akumas despite all of the time he spends with her, which is highly unusual because even people he only briefly meets manage to slip in something about akumas into the conversation. Damian feels like there must be some sort of connection between Marintte and the akuma situation that he’s not getting, but it’s eluding him.

He sits down with his laptop in his apartment and looks up information about Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s definitely just as talented as he suspected; in her ninth year of schooling, she won a Gabriel competition, participated in a music video of Clara Nightingale’s, and collaborated with Jagged Stone on an album cover. So that was how she met him-- he wondered, but never asked. There are also a few instagram posts that have tagged her as a good samaritan and a few articles that detail a small, asian girl who’s going around Paris helping random people that are in need.

The weird things that Damian finds are contained in her school records. She’s apparently in very good company with her IQ, but what’s more interesting is all the dates that she is tardy or absent from school. They line up perfectly with all of the dates that akumas appear. He feels dread gather in his stomach. 

A few more searches seem to cement his growing suspicions. Around the same time that Marinette obtained a truce with Lila matched up with when theorists believed that the Italian girl started working with Hawkmoth. He reads the instagrams and tweets of her classmates from the first year that Hawkmoth arrived, which talk about how excellent Marinette is at calming them down and guiding them to a better place. He also reads the posts of Chloe Bourgeois and Alya Cesaire and the articles about Marinette and Evillustrator that tell a slightly different story-- that Marinette is capable of manipulating others into more unpleasant situations.

Damian jolts. There is an incoming call from his father. 

“Are updates on Paris, Damian?” 

Should he give them a clue to his growing suspicions that Marinette is Hawkmoth? No, he can’t tell them until he gathers more information. 

“No,” he says. “Information about Hawkmoth and the Miraculous are hard to come by.”

There’s a sigh and what sounds like the rustling of papers from the other side. “I figured. Tim and Barbara can’t find anything over here, either, but the Justice League is worried. They want results.”

“The Justice League and I agreed that having Robin make an appearance would be beneficial. Gain Ladybug and Chat Noir’s trust, or find Hawkmoth. Information might come easier with your alter ego.”

“All right.” 

Another pause. He and his father have always had an awkward relationship. Bruce didn’t know of his existence until he was ten, and by that time, the most formative years of Damian’s life had already passed. Bruce Wayne may be many things, but good at dealing with children, he is not. Even after adopting so many children, he doesn’t know how to raise a child. Damian and his brothers have all raised themselves, with Bruce only stepping in when one of them is really going off the rails.

“Is everything else going well in Paris? School is good?”

“School is fine.” Damian wonders whether he should tell his father about Marinette. About the girl who is kind and capable and scarily efficient at dispatching criminals for a citizen and-- he can’t think about her like that. He decides against telling his father about her. She might be Hawkmoth, after all, and confirming her existence to his father means that he’s denying that possibility. “Gotham?”

“Nothing out of the usual. A few run-ins with the Joker.”

Another silence. The lapses in conversation aren’t awkward, but Damian thinks of the playful banter Marinette has with her parents and frowns. 

“Goodbye, Father.”

“Goodnight, Damian.”

Damian looks around at his empty apartment. There is nothing in it, except for his suitcase and a few pieces of furniture. It’s nothing like the manor, where he knows that Tim is up at all hours slaving away on another project that Damian rarely gets to see, or that Jason is in the training room with Dick joining him occasionally. He can’t pick a fight with Tim or have Dick try to mediate the conflicts between himself and Jason. No nightly patrols with three or four people talking over the comms, or near instantaneous backup when he gets into a tight spot. There is no Alfred or Barbara or Cassandra or Bruce here. Only Damian. 

He looks down at his laptop, at the various information and images of Marinette that he has up on his screen. In good conscience, he can’t continue being friends with her. Not with the possibility that she is the person he’s trying to hunt down. 

He remembers her saying that being lonely is different than being alone. 

Damian is lonely.

#

Patrol is a necessary evil. 

Ladybug doesn’t hate patrol. She’s not very fond of it, though. It cuts into time that she could be spending sleeping or designing or anything else, really. In the beginning, it started as a way to figure out how everything worked under the guise of the dark and without the constant threat of an akuma hanging over head. Then, it progressed into disproving the theory about Ladybug’s age, because civilians aren’t inclined to believe that a teenage girl who has school the next day would patrol every day in the early morning. Now, it shows the Parisians how devoted Ladybug is-- that’s something that she’s struggled with ever since withdrawing the Miraculous from all of the part time heroes-- and lets Marinette blow off any steam that she has. 

Right now, Marinette needs to blow off a lot of steam. Still, even as Ladybug, as much as Marinette wants to scream to high hell and back about how she’s been friends-- very close friends, she’d dare to say-- with the same person who has been terrorizing Paris for years, she can’t. If she screams, there will be media coverage on it, and she doesn’t want to deal with what the press would write up some article about how Ladybug was overworked and needed to bring back the other heroes, or that Ladybug wasn’t mentally sound enough to take care of Paris, she should just give up the Miraculous, or that Ladybug’s scream was [insert some poetic nonsense that English teachers wax about for hours even though the author never intended the audience to read that deeply into it].

Marinette doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s gotten close to Damian. She’s as close to him as she is with Kagami, Luka, Jagged and Penny. Damian knows that she’s MDC. He knows her hopes and aspirations. He knows her family, knows the majority of her friends, and knows what’s important to her. It will be so easy for him to tear her apart now. Marinette isn’t sure what Hawkmoth is waiting for, but she almost hopes that he’ll get it over with sooner rather than later.

What will Hawkmoth do first? Go after the website that he helped her make, probably. Cut off the financial support that she could use to run away and create another identity. Then, he’ll go after her friends, few and far as they may be. Renee next. Her family, last. She wonders who Mayura is, if he is Hawkmoth. She hasn’t seen anyone that’s close to him. Then again, Damian reveals next to nothing about himself. She’s never even seen where he lives.

There’s a shadow on the rooftops. 

God, of course Hawkmoth would send out an akuma today. He knows how horrible her mental state must be. There’s no way he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

She yoyos over to the shadow, not close enough to strike or apprehend, but close enough to easily give chase without the akuma being able to give her the slip.

“Ladybug,” the akuma says.

“Cut the crap. We all know you want the Miraculous, Hawkmoth. Let’s get to it.” The shadow steps forward where a street lamp illuminates its costume, and once again, she is assaulted by the barrage of colors on her eyes. After seeing how awful Damian’s color coordination was, it’s easy to come to terms with the awful designs of all of his costumes. Still, she’s surprised that the boy who dresses in the same outfit every day creates such outlandish costumes for all of his minions. 

The akuma frowns, tenses. 

“I’m not Hawkmoth,” it insists. “I’m Robin, a vigilante from Gotham. I’ve come to learn more about the current situation and aid you in taking Hawkmoth down.”

 Ladybug scoffs. She’s not sure what this akuma’s tactic is, but none of the others have tried to lie to her so blatantly about their identity. And ripping off an identity? That is a new low, even for Hawkmoth. She’s sure that the real Robin didn’t agree to this, and if she were close with the vigilante, maybe she could get him to throw a lawsuit or two at Hawkmoth once he was in custody, just for kicks.

Robin the akuma scrambles, apparently looking for something that can verify his identity. 

Ladybug strikes. There’s no pride in striking an opponent when they are distracted, but it’s a means to an end. If Damian is dumb enough to send out an akuma confused about its identity tonight of all nights-- a night where Ladybug is distressed and it would be all too easy to take advantage of her-- then she’s going to take advantage of it.

It’s easy to bind the akuma. Startlingly easy. The akuma is different tonight, then. His powers have something to do with close contact, maybe? Ladybug looks on his person for things that could be the point of akumatization, eyes flitting from Robin’s waistband to his mask.

She comes to an unpleasant conclusion. The measurements and the coloring are a perfect match. Hawkmoth has come to meet her in person.

“Damian,” Ladybug hisses. 

Damian’s eyes widen, like he doesn’t know how she’s pieced together his identity. How stupid does he think she is? He’s been dropping hints constantly. Information a transfer to Paris shouldn’t know. Never telling Marinette anything personal. Always being near an akuma attack when it happens. It’s almost like he wanted her to figure out his identity.

“How did you know?” 

“Please, Hawkmoth, did you really think that Marinette couldn’t connect the dots? You must have thought awfully little of her if you thought that your constant appearances near all of the akuma and questions about the Miraculous didn’t lead me to your identity.”

“Hawkmoth? Ladybug, I’m not Hawkmoth, I’m Robin.”

“And I’m the queen of England. Renounce your Miraculous now, Hawkmoth. Or I’ll beat you until you detransform and take it from you.” 

Damian looks confused before his face contorts to an expression of resignation. He recognizes a cold fury in her eyes that is distinct to people who won’t give up until they get their way, and there’s really no other way around this right now. He should have brought his comm with him, but he wasn’t expecting to meet Ladybug tonight; he just wanted to assess the situation as Robin, to get out from his apartment for a second. Rookie mistake. 

True to her word, Ladybug beats Damian unconscious and also until he’s black and blue. She’ll be lying if she didn’t say she took out some of her fury from the past years on him.

But here’s the thing; Damian doesn’t detransform. He stays in his god-awful costume that has the same disgusting shade of mustard yellow as that one top Damian owns. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. When Miraculous users faint, they detransform because it takes a sort of mental awareness to handle the powers bestowed upon them. Is it different because Damian is an akuma? Is there some sort of Miraculous bylaw that if a Miraculous user gets akumatized, they get to stay in their alternate form? Oh wait, that’s right, he’s an akuma, not Hawkmoth right now.

Ladybug stumbles forward, breaking all of the weapons that are on his belt, taking off his mask and breaking that as well. No akuma comes out. She tries his gloves, then his boots. She pats him down, seeing if there’s anything she missed. She rips his suit, too. Nothing. There’s no brooch in his personal effects either.

What is she supposed to do now? 

Seeing no alternative, Ladybug picks Damian up and yoyos back to Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie to safely detransform and figure out what the fuck is going on.

He’s not Hawkmoth, is the conclusion Marinette comes to after a side by side comparison of pictures of the vigilante and Damian. The horrifying conclusion: the person lying on the floor of her bedroom is actually Robin, the vigilante from Gotham. 

Marinette knows it’s better to err on the side of caution, but she still buries her head in her hands in embarrassment. How can she have gotten him so wrong? She really needs to get better at reading people, because deciding that random civilians are Hawkmoth clearly has not paid off. 

She also cannot believe that the Justice League has decided to step in now, and with a sidekick from America, of all things--Marinette is pretty sure that she sent the videos to the European branch. It must have been three years since her first notification to them. She contacted them immediately after Stoneheart, and again, after Syren when she was distraught at the death that surrounded her. With no response, there was nothing she could do. She has to start relying on herself and her own skills. 

Ladybug only contacted them once more, after Heroes’ Day. At that point, Ladybug had been thinking for a while that someone who was naturally superpowered or someone with a high grade of intelligence-- like the heroes affiliated with the Justice League-- would do more harm than good if they were allowed in the city. After the devastation of her teammates being akumatized, and the nearly week long battle that ensued, she was certain that she could barely fight her teammates, let alone trained professionals. So with shaky hands and red rimmed eyes, she said to please disregard her earlier messages; the situation in Paris wasn’t that bad, and Ladybug could handle it. 

Damian groans. Marinette jumps; he is waking up far earlier than she anticipated. She wants to transform back into Ladybug. Being in her spots gives her a pseudo sense of security. First, though, she has to restrain him. Even though he isn’t Hawkmoth, she’s not sure whether he’s a threat or not. She makes quick work of it, using the thickest zip ties that she has on hand and restraining his arms and legs.

She doesn’t get the chance to transform back into Ladybug, but that’s just as well, because at the end of the day, Marinette is the foundation of anything that makes Ladybug a hero to the public. Damian opens his eyes almost immediately after she has finished restraining him, taking in his surroundings and the person in front of him.

“Marinette? Where’s Ladybug?” No questions of how he got there; Ladybug can clearly carry her own weight and more. No questions as to why there are zip ties cutting into his wrists and ankles; he has seen too many of Marinette’s victims on the streets.

“What do you mean, where’s Ladybug?” Marinette is right in front of him. She might not have the suit on, but at the end of the day, she does have the Ladybug Miraculous, which means she’s Ladybug through and through, and Damian must know that. Otherwise, there’s no real reason for Robin to be spending so much time with Marinette. The fact that she feels more real and true to herself as Marinette than as Ladybug probably means nothing to him.

“She knocked me out on a rooftop. Didn’t know that you two knew each other personally. I’m not Hawkmoth, by the way.” He twitches, then realizes that he’s been tied up. “Why’d she leave me with you?”

So he doesn’t know that she’s also Ladybug? This whole thing keeps getting more confusing. Still, the less people that know about her alter ego, the better. Marinette will keep him in the dark. She attributes his blatant misunderstanding to the identity concealment magic of the Miraculous. It’s powerful stuff. If it didn’t exist, she’s sure she would have found concrete evidence as to who Hawkmoth is by now. 

“She asked me to assess whether you were a threat or not. Whether or not she casts the Miraculous Cure is contingent on my response.”

“Ladybug wants you to assess whether I’m a threat or not? Why’d she leave a possible super villain with a civilian?”

“I help Ladybug out with many things.” Her voice turns to clinical detachment. She uses this method to dissociate as Ladybug when things get overwhelming. Assess the situation. Get in, deakumatize, get out. Marinette needs to distance herself. It’s bad enough that the situation is this convoluted, but she doesn’t need Damian to doubt Ladybug’s capabilities as well. “Ladybug knows that you’re not Hawkmoth now, and she knows that I can handle myself with any run of the mill bad guy, even if they are a supposed vigilante.”

“Tell me, Robin,” Marinette spits the name like a curse, “Why should I tell Ladybug that you’re not a threat? That you are who you say you are?”

In all honesty, all Marinette wants to do is knock Damian out again so she can collect her thoughts. She’s not sure how she should address his presence as Robin in Paris and is still reeling from the whiplash of thinking he was Hawkmoth only for him to turn into a foreign vigilante. Next thing she knows, he’ll tell her that his name isn’t even Damian Grayson. Well, now that she thinks about it, he’s definitely not. After this encounter finishes, she’ll look up Damian and Gotham and see what she gets.

He looks flustered, like he never expected anybody to question his identity or presence. It’s laughable, really. Marinette doubts that the Justice League actually sent him; he’s probably here to explore on his own. That means he’ll only be a pain in the ass to deal with. Maybe she needs to get into contact with the Justice League again, if only just so she can deport Robin with more ease. 

“I can call Batman,” he says.

Marinette doesn’t think this is a very good solution. There’s no way for her to prove that the person on the other side actually is Batman and not some actor. But after racking her brain, she can’t come up with a much better solution. It’s not like Robin has any superpowers that she can request to see, and she doesn’t have a direct line to anybody from the Justice League.

“Fine. Call Batman.”

“It’s in the pocket near on my right side.” Marinette doesn’t bother going closer to him. She destroyed everything on him earlier, in case it was the akuma’s vessel. Ladybug thought she came across a phone, but now she’s glad she smashed it and left it on that random rooftop. He probably has some sort of tracker on his phone. In any case, Marinette thinks it’s weird for a vigilante to have a phone on them while on the rooftops. Shouldn’t he have an earpiece or something? 

“Your phone was destroyed by Ladybug. Tell me the number to call. I’ll put it on speaker.” Marinette isn’t sure if the number he’ll have her call will be some sort of secure connection or direct line that is only accessible through Damian’s phone, but she doesn’t particularly care because the Miraculous Communicators are exactly that. Miraculous. Master Fu assured her that all communications were private and impossible to crack unless they also had a Miraculous. Which is why she’s using the Miraculous Communicator to call Batman.

Damian winces, then speaks into the offered phone. 

“Batman, it’s Robin. I need to verify my identity in order to proceed.”

“Are you with Ladybug?”

So he is on a mission, then, and not just playing hooky. If Batman is involved, Marinette has no doubt the rest of the Justice League will follow soon. This will be a dreadfully unpleasant call.

“I’m making it a video call,” Marinette says. “And no, he’s not with Ladybug. I’m Ladybug’s point of contact, and she doesn’t take kindly to people encroaching on her territory without permission.”

“Robin, what happened?” Batman isn’t accepting her video request.

Marinette cuts off whatever Damian is about to say. “Damian was suspicious; I reported his activities to Ladybug and she believed that he could be Hawkmoth. Then, she caught him on the roofs and took him back to my place after verifying that he wasn’t Hawkmoth. Video call, Batman. I’d like to see that you are who you say you are, before I send Robin back to the states.”

“She knows your civilian identity? Two people know that you’re Robin?”

“Turn your video on. If you can’t prove that you are who Damian says you are, Ladybug and I will do everything in our powers to deport him and make sure that the Justice League is not allowed in Paris again. Ladybug said that she doesn’t need any unknowns in her city, and I’ve been hoping Robin came here of his own volition. It sounds like that isn’t the case.”

Marinette thinks that Batman curses in English, but she’s not sure. Fluent though Marinette may be, she is not well versed in curses, colloquialisms, or American memes. The camera turns on. It’s Batman, or at the very least, an actor wearing a very good knock off costume.

It’s annoying that Marinette can’t see his eyes. There’s some white film where his eyes should be, and the fact that his cowl covers more than half of his face isn’t doing her any favors in letting her read his facial expression. She moves herself so that Batman can see both her and Robin.

“Why is Robin restrained?”

“Like I said: he was suspicious. I’m not taking any chances.”

A moment of silence.

“How do you want me to prove my identity?” 

That’s good. He’s not asking who she is, though she’s sure that there are cameras pointing at the screen on Batman’s end, running facial analysis and background checks on her. The Miraculous magic will ensure that any connections between her and Ladybug will not come to light. Other than her identity as Ladybug, Marinette has nothing to hide.

“If you’re Batman, then you should have access to the League’s calls, European and otherwise. Play me the last video that Ladybug sent you. I know what she said.” She spares a glance at Damian. His jaw is tight, but when he looks at her, she finds what looks like regret. It’s not entirely Damian’s fault. A mission is a responsibility, and Marinette understands that in order to be a hero or vigilante, one must be willing to do anything to accomplish the mission. Really, she’s only Ladybug because she feels that heavy weight of the words duty and responsibility on her shoulders. Fu’s fault.

“Behave. If you try something, I’ll knock you out.” Marinette sets the communicator on her desk and eyes him. The zipties are so tight around his arms and legs that he is bleeding. Marinette feels a flash of sympathy, then pushes it away. It was his fault for-- why was he at fault, again? 

“I have the video.” Batman sounds even peakier than when they started the call. He plays the video.

“Justice League. This is Ladybug. I rescind my requests for help; I can take care of Paris with my own team. Any help from you at this point would be a detriment and could potentially harm the citizens of Paris. Hawkmoth manipulates strong emotions, and I don’t need to handle a metahuman or tactical genius to gain more power to wreak havoc on my city. I will not contact you with any further requests for assistance.”

It’s an awful video. Marinette had to wait a day after the Heroes’ week fiasco just so her eyes wouldn’t be red. At least her voice doesn’t waver in it. There’s a conviction in the whole video that was unique to that moment. 

Marinette looks at Batman, then at Robin. 

“Clearly the Justice League refused to listen. Ladybug doesn’t want or need your help at this point in time. Why are you here?”

“The Justice League is at fault for not paying attention to Ladybug’s other videos. But Mayor Bourgeois and President Macron can only cover such alarming incidents for so long. Ladybug and her… team clearly need help in order to find and take down Hawkmoth, so once the American branch of the Justice League found out half a year ago, we started to investigate.” Batman speaks in lieu of Damian. Marinette briefly wonders if Damian knows who Batman is under the mask. She bets he does. They’re probably close, what with how worried Batman sounds. 

“What makes you think that the Justice League is any better equipped to handle this situation? Ladybug and her team have been fighting for the past three years and resolved every akuma with no help from you. She needed your help in earlier years. Now she doesn’t.”

“Exactly; it’s been three years and she still hasn’t caught Hawkmoth.”

“You say that like the Justice League doesn’t have a team with more wealth and manpower than Ladybug does that’s been looking into Hawkmoth and the Miraculous for the past half year and clearly has not found any reasonable leads. Ladybug has only been actively looking for Hawkmoth for the past two years, not three. The police handled the first year, not that you’ve done any homework on the situation. Thought that a field agent would help your chances?” 

There is fire in Marinette’s stomach. Batman sounds so dismissive of all of the work that she’s been doing. It’s been hard on her; she doesn’t have the support that she needs and doesn’t have the experience or expertise to hunt down Hawkmoth on her own. She trained briefly under Master Fu to learn spells and ways to expand her powers as Ladybug, but that was an equivalent exchange: she no longer trusts that other holders won’t be akumatized. Her growing cynicism and physical training from Maman came at the expense of Chat Noir; after the whole Lila incident in her first year as Ladybug, she found out that Chat Noir and Adrien were one and the same. And Gabriel Agreste is not afraid to use his son until Adrien is stretched far too thin, which forced Marinette to nearly bench her partner.

“Three years,” Batman says again.

“If the Justice League can’t figure it out nearly unlimited resources and funding in half a year-- both ordinary and super human-- then clearly it isn’t a question of time. It’s a question of capability. Get off your high horse, Batman. You haven’t given me any reasons why Ladybug and I shouldn’t deport Robin here, and you’re definitely not making a good case as to why she shouldn’t go to Mayor Bourgeois and France’s president to ensure that the Justice League and its affiliates and ban hero travel into Paris. Bourgeois already doesn’t want information on it’s supervillain situation to get out.” 

“Marinette,” Damian pleads.

As Robin and as Damian, he doesn’t pose a threat. He hasn’t been helpful, but he certainly hasn’t messed with the status quo for the month that he’s been here. Still, he is a liability. If he stays in Paris, he is the gateway for the other members of the Justice League to fly in and try to commandeer the fragile balance that she has found. She can’t afford for something like that to happen.  

“You’re not any better, Robin. Why did you even hang around me? Thought I was a threat?” Her eyes narrow in realization. It makes sense why he decided to hang out with her, despite his initial cold front. He was playing a role.“You thought I was Hawkmoth.”

His silence is an agreement.

“We just want to help,” Damian says, and against her better judgement, Marinette believes him. 

Her shoulders round, and Marinette sighs. She can’t truly begrudge Damian for that train of thought, not when she believed the same about him. She’s been a little harsh on them so far, in part due to old resentment that they never responded to her in that first, awful year when she needed the help. 

There’s a dull tiredness that comes with knowing someone who she considered one of her closest friends suspected her of being a supervillain, though she did believe the same of him, so maybe they’re even. It still hurts, though. It hurts like when Alya decided that Marinette was mean-hearted enough to stop the members of their class from reaching their full potential. It hurts like when Marinette finally realized that she couldn’t repair their friendship, not to what it used to be. It hurts like when she looked around the classroom and realized that she couldn’t talk to anyone there. It hurts like when Marinette decided that she couldn’t risk helping her friends the way she wanted to. 

“What kind of help can you offer us? We don’t need any more of you to come out here.” Resources are nice. More money to fund therapy programs around town won’t hurt. Master Fu doesn’t help on that part. Really, he doesn’t help at all. Even though she has Chat Noir and had a team, she often feels like it’s herself against the world. Some days, she reaches up to her earrings and feels an aching emptiness, like there’s something more to the Miraculous that’s been sealed away.

“We can give you resources. Money, connections, experience. Robin is good with technology. He can help you track down where Hawkmoth is.”

Marinette’s laugh is bitter. “Sure, he can try, but the butterflies Hawkmoth sends out aren’t visible by the normal human eye or electronically until they’ve found their mark. Once they’re purified, they’re just normal butterflies, and they go off in random directions.”

“Normal human eye? It sounds like there are exceptions.” Damian readjusts himself. He has fidgeted his way into an uncomfortable looking seiza position, where his ankles are bleeding. 

“A true holder can see the butterflies at all times.”

Marinette also decides to throw them a bone so there’s no questions as to why a mere civilian is working with Ladybug. “That’s why Ladybug recruited me. I was Multimouse.”

Multimouse was in the file that Damian sent his father, but he asks, just to make sure. “The one that can split itself?”

“That’s correct. I guess now is as good a time as any for the two of you to get your questions answered.”

“Why are you the point of civilian contact instead of any of the other more frequently used heroes? Didn’t you appear only once?” Damian avoids looking Marinette in the eyes, and that makes her feel slightly better. He’s ashamed of his actions. Good. 

“Ladybug said that the other hero’s civilian forms were either compromised or not in a good position.”

“Ladybug knows who all the holders are.” Batman speculates. He looks less tense now that Damian is no longer tied up, but his voice remains gravelly and distrubed. Maybe that’s what he sounds like all the time.  “Who else knows? Do you?” 

“Only Ladybug knows.” Marinette lives in half truths. She’s not sure that they’re much better than lies, but they’re all she has. Secrecy is the only thing Master Fu has sincerely taught her.

“Why have all the other heroes disappeared?” 

“Ladybug said that it was too dangerous for someone who could be akumatized to hold a Miraculous. Rena Rage, Shell Shock, Queen Wasp-- they were all frighteningly powerful akumas. It’s also why Chat Noir has been showing up less and less; his home life is not the best, and she’s trying her best to ensure that he doesn’t get akumatized.”

“She’s not worried for herself or,” Damian’s eyes flick to Marinette, away from Batman. “For you?” 

“She knows that both of us are good at dealing with stress. We have our own methods of coping.” She looks at Damian, her mouth tightening into a frown. “If you want to stay in Paris, I’ll cut you a deal. We can work together for two weeks, and if we don’t get any results, you have to leave and the Justice League must promise that they won’t interfere again.”

“Two weeks isn’t enough time,” Damian objects.

“If you don’t think it’s enough time, just leave now. I’ll say now that I’m only willing to work with you during the night. That’s the time I work on Miraculous related stuff now, anyways. And stay out of the akuma battles.” She doesn’t actually think that working together will help anyways, and she wants Damian gone sooner rather than later. He’s been making her feel too much and emotions that are far more explosive and easy to take advantage of than Marinette has in a long time. She doesn’t want to be targeted by an akuma because of her inner conflict. 

“Two weeks, then,” Batman agrees. “Robin can contact me if you need any extra resources.”

Marinette hangs up and assesses Damian. He looks almost pitiful, with bruising around his eyes, tousled hair, a ripped suit, and cuts where his skin is exposed. She opens her trap door in a clear gesture for him to depart. Downstairs is dark; her Maman and Papa have long since gone to sleep, and it’s only a few more hours until they wake up to start baking. “We start tomorrow. If you need Ladybug for anything, tell me.”

He’s half way down the ladder when he looks back up at Marinette, into her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Marinette can’t breath. She feels like vomiting. His eyes are so green in comparison to the purple bruising on his face. She did that to him. She made him look that way. All she’s ever wanted to do as Ladybug is protect the people she cared for. But Damian-- Marinette doesn’t know. She doesn't know whether what Damian has done can actually be described as bad. He was just trying to do what Batman told him to do. Keeping an eye on a threat. Marinette wonders how long he thought she was Hawkmoth. She wonders if he ever thought they were friends. 

“I’m sorry too,” Marinette says, and shuts the trap door.

They’re both sorry for very different things.

[ijustwant2write]

Hold On Tight-Tommy Shelby x Sister!Reader

(GIF credit @hardytcm)

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: 'Hiya love, could yo do an imagine where the reader is a Shelby sister and is closest to Tommy, like best friends and they go do some business together one day and she dies? But like grace’s death where she’s in his arms and he’s obviously really sad but she’s trying to be positive about it. ❤️'

Characters: Thomas Shelby X Reader (siblings), Arthur Shelby x Reader (siblings), John Shelby x Reader (siblings)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, guns, violence, injuries/wounds, death

(A/N: This is before John's or Grace's deaths)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Morning boys." I greeted as my three older brothers walked in.

"Alright (Y/N)." Arthur nodded, hugging me briefly before making his way to the kitchen.

John copied his actions, catching up with him as Tommy entered, hugging me that bit longer.

"You sure you want me coming with you today?" I asked him as we pulled apart.

"I'm sure. You're the one that's been researching this guy for us, you're the best person to come along."

"Flattery doesn't get you anywhere Tommy. It's not like I'm going to object. Are you wanting to leave now?"

"Not just yet. We need to go over the plan again."

"Again? Tommy-"

He raised his hand, pointing at me."We always go over the plan-"

"Three times." we said in unison.

"Right." he nodded and went to the kitchen, me shaking my head behind him.

John and Arthur had already made themselves comfortable at the table, helping themselves to the freshly boiled teapot. As I walked past John, I smacked his legs that were resting on top of my table. He flinched, almost falling off his chair as he protested, rubbing where I hit him.

"Do you forget manners everytime you step into a civilised house?" I scolded playfully.

"Civilised house? Since when have you or anyone in the family been civilised?" he chuckled.

"Well, just don't put your grubby shoes on my clean table. My house, my rules."

"Alright mum."

I only rolled my eyes at him. John and I were only a year apart, I remember all the times we bickered as children, though there was definitely a love hate relationship. I always tried to act my age unless he was around, then it all went out the window. The boys were much older than us, and didn't always want to play; seeing as we were the closest in age, we compromised on our games, but I grew up with three brothers, they were bound to be tough. It built character (as they say), though it was only after the war that I became closer to Tommy.

Arthur had always been the best big brother, always looking after and defending me. As did John and Tommy, though Arthur could sometimes have a more authoritive look about him, more intimidating. I had always looked up to him. But Tommy and I never talked much, or played games with each other. He didn't even hug me much either. I saw my three brothers be sent off to war, and like all the men that left, they came back different. And Tommy coped with it in an extremely unhealthy way.

All those nights he had nightmares, he didn't have to be screaming in his sleep or crying, I just felt that something was wrong. A weird sense of dread would fill me before going to sleep, and it would wake me up, forcing me to go check on Tommy. He would rarely talk about it, but I stayed strong beside him, refusing to leave until he fell asleep again. Of course there were the drugs, and although I tried desperately to make him stop, he never did. However, I was there on the other side. It sort of happened naturally, our relationship. Maybe it came with age, maybe he acknowledged my help. Tommy was closest to me in my opinion, and I supported him with a majority of what he did (unless he used the family, that's where I crossed the line).

"I still don't know how I feel about this Tom." Arthur said.

"If you're talking about me, which you do every time we do something like this, then you need to get over it." I gently replied as I sat beside Tommy.

"You're my little sister, (Y/N), you shouldn't be here."

He wasn't being mean. He was just concerned. I smiled at him.

"Arthur, I've been through this a million times, with and without you guys. I'll be fine, we all will."

"Just get that feeling in me stomach-"

"That's enough Arthur." Tommy interrupted, lighting up a cigarrette. We waited for him to take a drag, exhaling the smoke before he spoke."We go through the backstreets, to their storage house for their booze. That's where we said we would meet. He has his men, we have ours. Now this is strictly business, no fucking threats, no fucking fighting, no fucking shooting. Understood?"

"I still think it's too dangerous for (Y/N) to come along." Arthur added.

"She's the one that's been getting the information for us. For some reason her tactics have worked better than ours."

"Oi!" I protested.

"That wasn't meant to offend."

"I've helped plenty of times before. Believe me Arthur, I've been behind the scenes of a lot of your operations."

"You've been around Tom too long, starting to speak like him too." Arthur smirked as he sipped his tea.

I ignored him."How many of your men will be there? Our dealer usually has ten with him at all times. He's agreed to not have anymore."

"Then we'll bring fifteen, ten with us and five to hide."

"You don't trust him."

"Any man who takes ten men as protection at all times is paranoid, meaning he'll also have some hidden away."

"So much for no shoot outs." John mumbled.

"Better safe than sorry." I snapped.

"Alright." Tommy warned."We're there to make a deal, and we'll leave with one."

We climbed into Tommy's car, silent as he drove to the meeting place. As we parked up our men were already waiting, watching as us Shelby's got out and walked ahead of them.

"So you listened to me then?" I quietly said to Tommy.

"What?"

"Finn's not here, that means you listened to me."

"Yes, I suppose you were right." he smirked.

"Good, he's still too young for all this."

"Now you sound like Polly."

I always felt nervous about these things. It never got any easier for me. Of course I didn't let it show on my face, and it always shocked these men to see a woman turn up. A slight advantage sometimes, they couldn't comprehend that a woman actually had a brain.

"How's Grace?"

"You want to talk about Grace, right now?"

"Yes, why not?"

He scoffed a laugh."Nothing stops you from getting into my private life."

"It's been a while since someone has been interested in you. And you're interested in her."

"I have never said that."

"There's no need to. It's obvious."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"(Y/N), we sound like children."

I laughed it off, sticking my hands in my coat pockets as the warehouse came into sight. There were two men guarding the doors, holding their guns. We didn't falter, approaching them with confidence. I thought they would search us, but instead, one of them disappeared inside, returning a few moments later, and nodding to the other guy.

"You can go in." he said, opening the door wider.

They stayed put as we all entered, following us from behind and closing the door. As expected, our dealsman was stood there with his ten men. I knew our lot were already trying to seek out anyone hidden away, they had been warned.

"Mr Vallier." Tommy started.

"Mr Shelby." He replied."Not like you to have this many men about for a business proposition."

"And you know how many men I have?"

Vallier ignored that question."Ah, I assumed your sister would come along. I've heard some remarkable things about her."

"The sister is present, you may address her." I interrupted.

"My apologies Miss Shelby. I've heard you commit acts that no other lady has ever done before. I must say, I am impressed."

"Thank you. You flatter me Mr Vallier."

He chuckled."So, Mr Shelby, shall we begin?"

It really was a simple trading agreement. Vallier was making some of the best gin in the country, though it hadn't become famous yet. He was a powerful man, built himself up from the ground; he ran his own gang, like us, knew that alcohol was a good selling point. Tommy saw an opportunity. Get him on our side, and we have another piece of territory as well as more money flowing in. It all seemed fairly simple, Vallier was just paranoid as we expected. This was the easiest meeting we had been to, and it made me nervous. However, that feeling started to drain away as we finished. There was more of a sense of feeling left out as I didn't get to say much.

Tommy and Vallier shook hands once we were outside the warehouse, both looking somewhat smug.

"Garrison?" John leaned over to me.

"Garrison." I nodded, smiling as he swung his arm over my shoulder.

Our lot began walking away, another deal was done. It was all calm and relieved until one of Vallier's boys started shouting, blocking our path.

"YOU KILLED MY BROTHER! HE NEVER DID ANYTHING BAD IN HIS LIFE!" He screamed, aiming his gun at Tommy.

"Don't shoot!" Tommy instructed.

John held me behind him."What the fuck is he planning now?"

"Sam, get inside!" Vallier yelled.

"I'm sorry sir, but these devil's had no right killing my brother, he wasn't even involved in any business!" the boy's aim never faltered.

Before anyone could figure out what to do, someone shot their gun, but it wasn't from the boy. We all ducked, running for cover as more bullets were fired. It was an ambush, there were hidden shooters, but they weren't working for Vallier. This boy wanted revenge. I knew this was all too good to be true.

John had pulled me behind a stack of crates, but the bullets were splintering the wood. We took turns peaking out and shooting, but it was impossible to see who we were shooting at.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE!" Tommy instructed John, but we were ultimately stuck.

"If you slip past the warehouse, you can squeeze through a narrow passage, that will get you out." Vallier rushed."Dont worry, these lads will run out of ammunition soon enough!"

John and I glanced at each other, and before I knew it, he was dragging me into the open space, headed where Vallier had mentioned. The warehouse was right night to a brick wall, with a gap just big enough for me to squeeze through. John on the other hand wouldn't even be able to get a foot in.

"John!"

"You keep going (Y/N), keep hidden until you don't hear no shooting no more, yeah?"

I nodded, groaning as I pulled myself through the gap. I had to walk sideways in order to keep moving, the bricks scraping against my skin. It was starting to get claustrophobic, and I was glad to have reached the end of it. Back in the normal streets, I seemed to be in the alleyway between people's back gardens. Slowly opening a back gate, I looked around it, praying there was someplace to hide. There was a shed, but I had a risk of being seen if the owners came along. But I was a Shelby, they should know who I am and not question it if I they did find me. And I had my gun, I was safe. Luckily the door was unlocked, and I hid inside, ducking so i wasn't seen through the window.

The relentless sound of bullets richoted through the air, echoing to me. I hated not being in the fight, but there was no time to argue in a battlefield. My brother's knew what was best for me most of the time... most of the time.

It sounded like there were less bullets flying about. One last shot rang out, I waited a few minutes for anymore sounds. When nothing came, I made my way back to the alley. I still had my guard up, not that my brother's would be dead, because we were the fucking Peaky Blinders, and this wasn't our final fight.

"In the bleak midwinter..." I muttered under my breath, slowly walking.

I wanted to call out to my brother's, though that was a stupid idea, and I kept silent. The sound of a gun clicking knocked my instincts into gear, and I aimed my gun towards the sound.

"What the fuck do your think you're doing?" I snapped. It was the boy that started this all.

"You fuckers killed my brother!"

"So you think that makes it OK to kill all of us?"

"I'll shoot you!"

Before he could do so, I shot him first, hitting him square in the chest. He froze, hands dropping to his sides, gun falling to the floor before his knees buckledonto the cobbles, and his body collapsed. I wasted no time running past him, checking the coast was clear before I rounded the corner.

"(Y/N)!"

Tommy was up ahead, already running towards me. I let out a breath of relief, also running to him. For fucks sake, why couldn't things go smoothly for once? It couldn't just be a done deal. Someone was always out to kill us.

My fingers outstretched towards Tommy's hand, and I almost grabbed them when an excruciating pain rippled through my back, and the another pang, and another. Everything went silent, my eyes widened in shock and the breath was all but gone from my body. The boy had shot me, somehow he wasn't dead and had shot me.

Tommy caught me before I hit the ground, and I wanted to desperately hold onto him, but I couldn't control my limbs.

"Somebody get the fucking car!" he yelled, the sound suddenly flooding back.

"T-Tommy," I shakily said, looking up at him,"h-h-hold me, please, I w-want t-to feel you."

His arms gradually gripped onto me tighter, and I showed no pain, even though it made me feel worse. It was rare to see Tommy Shelby cry, and it felt like an honour to watch them roll down and out of his crystal blue eyes.

I swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat."Tommy, l-listen. I-I w-want you to marry that....that G-Grace."

"What? (Y/N) don't worry-"

"She challenges you, I-I l-like her. A-and h-have a nice wed... wedding."

"I will."

"C-an I have a portrait? You always s-said I-I could."

He nodded."You'll sit for that portrait yourself. You're not going anywhere."

"(Y/N), Tommy!" I could faintly hear John and Arthur.

I smiled. My older brothers were here, they were going to look after me like they always did.

"John, Arthur."

"We're here (Y/N), alright?" John cried, grabbing one of my hands.

"Fucking hell." Arthur seethed.

"I-I love you all. T-tell Finn and P-Polly...that...I love them too."

"You can't go (Y/N), you just can't." Tommy whispered.

"You'll live on Tommy. Be happy, please, f-for me."

I lavished the feeling of comfort as I felt my skin turn colder, it was harder to breathe, harder to stay awake. The pain I was in didn't matter, I had my three heroes around me, my three brothers. They say us Shelby's couldn't be killed, and I had always lived by that. However, someone had plans for me to die today, and if it meant something bigger and better for my family then so be it. I held onto my smile as much as possible, not wanting my boys to see how I was hurting. As life slowed down around me, I looked up one last time into Tommy's eyes, his beautiful blue eyes that I was envious of; they were a comfort, a piece of my brother I would keep with me forever, even if they were full of tears.

[fellulahh]

Mammon visits MC in the human realm and Lucifer gets jealous, Part 5/???

This one’s going to be a long one so brace yourselves! Read Part 4 here

-

Lucifer had a sombre look on his face as he entered MC’s room. She gazed at him expectantly as he stepped toward her bed. Her face fell when he didn’t look pleased to see her.

“How did it go?” MC asked softly as Lucifer stopped in front of her.

He let out a breath as his expression remained cold. “We talked and it’s been decided you will be staying in the palace for the time being.” He spoke reluctantly.

MC’s eyebrows furrowed as she processed his words. “What? Why?”

“Diavolo wants you there.” Lucifer answered, a hint of jealously in his voice.

“He does?” MC asked more confused, “When am I supposed to move?”

“Tonight, Diavolo’s orders. He deems it to be safer for you in the palace - your baby is the key to uniting our two realms, he doesn’t want anyone getting in the way or threatening this key”

Hearing him refer to it as her baby and not theirs stung. “So I’ll be apart from you?” She asked upset.

“Yes.” He nodded, his face softening for the first time that day.

Unable to resist her wide eyes, Lucifer lifted his hand, caressing her cheek as he gazed down at her. He flashed a sad smile down at MC as he sighed. “He’ll take care of you.”

“But that’s not what I want.” She breathed as he removed her hand from her skin.

Lucifer sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. “It’s not what I want either but it’s for the best.” He tried to convince her before glancing at her alarm clock, noticing the time. “You should prepare your bags. Diavolo will be here at 7.”

Lucifer stood up abruptly. MC remained silent as she glared at him leaving the room. She couldn’t believe it. Lucifer went through all of the effort to come to the human realm just to see her but now that they’re back in Devildom together, she’s being palmed off onto Diavolo.

MC could feel tears building in her eyes as she looked at her clothes spread across the room. Just as quickly as she arrived, she was now leaving again. Letting out shaky breaths, she climbed off the bed and began reluctantly packing. She’d never felt so many emotions at once - she was embarrassed to have shown her desperation to Lucifer. It was all for nothing.

-

“I’m only at the palace - you can come and visit me.” MC smiled sadly as she hugged Mammon, “it’s not like you won’t see me again - you’ll still be stuck with me at RAD for now.”

Mammon wasn’t convinced. Since finding out MC would no longer be staying with them, the brothers were not subtle in showing their disdain toward Lucifer’s and Diavolo’s agreement. Having already said her goodbyes, MC approached the last brother: Lucifer.

“MC I—“ he breathed.

“Don’t.” She interrupted him, “I understand you’re doing what you feel is best.” She spoke in an unconvincing voice.

Lucifer gave her a sad gaze. “I didn’t want you to go.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” She shook her head, “I’ll see you soon, Luci.”

MC gave into her heart’s needs and pulled him in for a tight embrace. Lucifer hugged her, burying his face in her hair as he let out a hefty sigh. He didn’t care that the other brothers were seeing him be so affectionate with her.

Pulling out, she flashed him once last small smile before turning to head out the door. She never turned her focus as she walked down the path. Standing at the end of the drive was Diavolo.

As he saw her coming, a smile spread across his face. “MC.” He spoke in his low voice opening up his arms, “I understand you may be upset - come here.”

Accepting his hug, MC basically fell into his embrace as he wrapped his muscular arms around her. She sulked into his chest as he rocked their bodies. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

Meanwhile, sick of seeing Diavolo holding MC, Lucifer firmly closed the front door. His body jolted when he turned around, being met by a very furious looking Satan. “What is it now?” He scoffed. “I’m not in the mood for your wrath.”

“I can’t believe you.” He shook his head. “You realise you’re having a baby with her right?”

“I am following Diavolo’s orders - I made a pledge to him.” Lucifer raised his voice.

“So?” Satan remarked. “What’s more important to you, a pledge or her? I can’t believe you’ve just deserted MC like this- how do you reckon she feels right now?!”

“It’s not that simple.” Lucifer shook his head, pushing past the fourth eldest, trying to ignore his interrogation.

Satan stayed in his place as he wondered what Lucifer meant. ‘Why is it not simple?’

-

Lucifer leant against the fireplace in his study, glaring at the flames as he took a swig from his bottle of whisky. His face twitched as the memory of Diavolo taking MC away to his palace repeated over and over in his mind, tormenting him. His breaths were heavy as his mind grew clouded.

He was so busy contemplating the current events that he didn’t hear the knock at his door. Stepping into the room, Satan examined Lucifer’s slumped body. His eyes fell on the bottle of whiskey he held tightly in his fingers. Furrowing his eyebrows, he stepped toward his brother, surprised to see him in such a distraught state.

“You look as though you need to talk to somebody.” Satan pointed out in a serious tone.

“My problems are nothing you should concern yourself with - if you’ve come to interrogate me again don’t even bother.” Lucifer spoke back stubbornly, balancing his bottle above the fireplace as he turned around to face his brother, “You’d never understand.” He spat.

“No, perhaps not.” Satan remained calm, “But I can still listen.”

Lucifer tried to shoot his brother a glare but the alcohol that filled his veins clouded his thoughts. “Shut the door.” He muttered, reluctantly giving in.

Satan followed his order. Lucifer fell back into one of the armchairs as he rested his forehead in his hands. The fourth eldest brother copied his actions, sitting opposite him. Breaking the silence, Satan spoke.

“It’s MC, isn’t it?” He questioned, “I think there’s more to the story that you’re not telling us.”

“I’m still trying to figure out the story myself.” Lucifer grunted as he ran a hand through his hair.

“What is there to figure out?” Satan asked in disbelief.

“Do you even need to ask? She’s pregnant, Satan. Her and I slept together and now she’s having my baby!” He raised his voice as his chest began to heave.

“And the problem is you don’t love her?”

“Of course I love her!” Lucifer cried frustrated.

“Then what is there to figure out?” Satan pressed, unable to meet Lucifer in the middle.

“She’s pregnant with my baby.” He repeated, “I would have thought out of all the demons in the world, you’d be the only one I wouldn’t have to explain myself to.”

Satan’s face fell as he realised why Lucifer was stressed. “This is a completely different circumstance.” He assured.

“Still a circumstance nonetheless.” Lucifer sighed. “I’m not cut out to be a Father - you’re proof of that. We’ve had the most dysfunctional relationship a Father and son can have and you know the family I was born into.” He compared.

“And so you’re hiding?” Satan asked, disappointed in Lucifer.

“I’m merely self loathing in the privacy of my own study.” He muttered stubbornly.

“For a demon who’s usually so attentive, I’m disheartened that you’re actually wasting time sulking about this.” Satan spoke in a very serious voice as he crossed his legs. “I only came into this world as a product of your own anger.” He spoke, beginning to raise his voice, “Your baby that she’s carrying - as much as it disgusts me to say - was made as a product of your love for each other.”

Lucifer glanced up as Satan’s words filled his mind.

“Our relationship may be irreparable and beaten but you shouldn’t let that ruin what you could have with her. Don’t make the same mistake you made with me.” He ordered, “Dont even compare the two.”

“For once Satan I think we may come to an agreement.” Lucifer spoke quietly, “It’d appear I’d let our relationship cloud my judgement.”

“Like I said, the two are incomparable. Yes, MC getting pregnant was an accident but it wasn’t a mistake...remember that.”

Lucifer met Satan’s eyes. Guilt filled his body as he stared at his supposed son, regretting the way their relationship turned. Though it couldn’t be salvaged, Satan was right: he shouldn’t now allow his and MC’s baby’s life to be corrupted all because Lucifer ran.

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t speak to her tonight - she’s with Diavolo now.” Lucifer sighed.

“And why exactly is that?” Satan asked confused - he hadn’t quite understood the reasoning behind Diavolo effectively fostering MC into his palace.

“He wants to protect her - this baby is the ‘gateway to uniting the realms’” Lucifer answered.

“Protect her?” Satan questioned, “What gave him the impression she wouldn’t be safe here?”

“That’s the thing - I don’t know.”

“I reckon he can see you cowering the same way I’ve seen you tonight.” Satan spoke truthfully.

“Excuse me?” Lucifer asked offended.

Sensing the tender moment evaporating from the room, Satan stood up, making his way to the door. “Don’t let yourself down, Lucifer.” He warned before leaving.

With anger blooming throughout his body, the eldest brother let out a huff as he forced himself off the armchair, unconsciously unleashing his demon form.

“Let myself down?!” He seethed, “Nobody understands.”

He breathed heavily as he regrettably began to wonder if Satan was right. Is that why Diavolo was so disappointed with him? Did he see Lucifer as incapable of taking care of MC?

-

“So MC, do you like your room?” Diavolo asked as he leant against her door frame.

“You really didn’t have to give me the biggest one, My Lord.” She chuckled, feeling happy that he was within her company.

“Nonsense.” He waved his hand as he entered the room, “Besides, you’re opposite my chamber being here.”

As he gazed at her, he could see the conflict in her eyes. Letting out a sigh, he tried to soothe her, “I’m sorry if you’re not happy here. I understand these past few days have probably been difficult for you.” He spoke softly as he stood in front of her, towering over her smaller frame. One of his large hands moved a piece of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I’m going to do whatever I can to ensure you feel at home.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” She nodded.

He chuckled at her. “Please, call me Diavolo.” She was a little surprised at the lack of formality. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Not that I can think of.” She whispered, gawping up at him.

“Okay.” He smiled, turning to leave the room.

As he left MC to her own devices, Diavolo entered his own chamber with Barbatos following close behind.

“See to her if she needs anything in the night, won’t you?” Diavolo asked his servant as he made his way further into the room.

“Absolutely, My Lord.” Barbatos nodded, “May I enquire whether MC’s presence in the palace is because you’re operating the first phase?” He asked.

“No.” Diavolo breathed, running his tongue over his lip, “Lucifer beat me to it.”

He turned around to face Barbatos who had a shocked expression, “Worry not though, Lucifer may have thrown a spanner into the works but she’s under my wing now. I’ll see it that she’s taken care of.”

“I have no doubts, My Lord.”

-

Okay so firstly sorry for the essay!😬

How are we feeling about MC now living with Diavolo?

Once again I’d like to give credit and appreciation to @petitefeu for this amazing fic she’s thought of!! I’m so happy to be writing it😺

[tpwksammy]

Zed Chapter 1-3

Sitting in the car with Kaden I keep my knees pressed to the door and phone in my hands.

He knocked on my apartment door after he finished work and told me we were going somewhere.

Kaden didn't specify but he has a small addiction with gambling. I ask him not to bring me to those events with him but he throws a fit telling me how worthless and a bad girlfriend I am. I've learned to not ask questions anymore.

"June aren't you going to ask me how my day was?" Kaden looks at me with his two hands on the wheel. His long locks are pushes back perfectly on his face.

Everything in this man's life has to be perfect. His hair, reputation, grades, money and me. Its utterly impossible

"How was your day?" I muster the softest smile.

"The deal for our company to expand across the world was accepted. I'm going to be rich June, you and I are gonna move out of here. Can't wait for it to just be me and you, we can get a house in the middle of nowhere. Just be ourselves." Reaching his hand for mine he locks our fingers and kisses the back of my hand.

"That's so great, I know you always wanted that!" Maybe he'll be nice away from the city.

"You don't sound too thrilled?" His eyebrows bunch down hard and I turn my head to give him my full attention.

"Well, where were you thinking of moving? I want to stay close to Mae."

Charlie Mae is my best friend. The first person I met when I moved to London.

I've lived in England for all my life but I moved more south to get away from my parents. Pathing my own life and experiencing new things was something I've always wanted to do.

I work at a small flower shop called Petal. Ever since I was young I always loved to run outside. I would run until my shoes would hit a flower patch and I would go picking for hours. Laying down in the field and smelling the fresh scent made me happier than I could ever be.

Mom and Dad weren't happy when I moved out here. I was supposed to go to law school and work alongside my father at his firm but after getting my arts degree I left.

That's why I'm dating Kaden actually.

My father and his are business partners. The only way for me to remain a part of my family was to marry someone of higher status. That wouldn't make a fool out of him like I have been doing my whole life.

Dad never wanted a daughter.

I don't think he's ever been proud of me and my mom simply encourages the behaviour. That's one of the main reasons I moved from the outskirts of their perfect rich life.

I wished they liked me but no matter what they do I always check-in to make sure they're alright.

"You know how I feel about Charlie, she's a bad influence. Always wanting you to go to parties and clubs. Just like how she sleeps with anyone who moves, it's unacceptable. We'll move away and it'll be perfect just wait and see."

I keep silent and rake my right hand up and down my thighs not wanting to anger him. "Yeah, it will be you're right." Kaden smiles happily and kisses my hand once more.

Im wearing a light green floral dress like always. The little flower pattern keeps me at peace.

"Alright, we're here. Just do me a favour and don't talk okay hun?" Leaning forward he presses a kiss to my lips and gets out of the car.

It's pitch black but light poles illuminate just enough light to see.

Loud chattering and defining laughter take over my senses. I smile to the groups of excited people.

I love the feeling of being free even I have to experience it from others.

Letting my eyes roam around to the dark area, trees and roads surround us in the middle of nowhere. Hundreds of people are huddled around four parked cars on the street ahead.

"June." His sharp voice and knocking on the window takes me out of my trace.

Nodding his head to get out I open the door and close it quietly. Looking to Kaden he points to a set of bleachers.

"I'll be right there I just need to place my bets. Don't go far." His tone demanding and I nod.

Walking away from me with no other word I take to the aluminum bleachers and make my climb to the top so I can see everything. Taking my seat the four cars rest directly in front and I watch as drivers smoke cigarettes and talk to each other.

Roaming my eyes over the cars a huge smile takes over my face. I wonder how fast those things go. I've always wanted to max out the speed of a car. Experience the true rush it looked like in the movies but I couldn't. Kaden instructed that I dont ruin his name by doing crazy things.

It's exhausting doing everything everyone tells you all the time. I moved away to be myself but I can't even do that.

Fixing my green dress I look down to all eyes on me. Girls dressed in black jeans, biker jackets and dark makeup lock their judging eyes on me and I sink down into the seat.

Placing my blonde hair behind my ear I look at my white running shoes tapping them a sweet melody trying to disappear.

"Starting in two minutes." a loud voice shouts on a speaker and I quickly look in a jump. The stands begin to fill quickly and I don't know where to divert my eyes.

I spot Kaden down by the starting line handing a thick load of cash to a man in a black hoodie. Looking away biting my lip my eyes look on a green race car. It's a shiny dark lime colour and my eyes grow wide looking at it. All the other cars around are black making this one stand out.

I dont think I've ever seen a car this beautiful.

It's so rad.

Trailing my eyes down to the front a man sits on the hood with his arms crossed in front of him watching me closely and my back straightens.

Black hair brushed back leaves his dark round sunglasses on display. I feel his eyes watching me and it sends a shiver down my body. Tattoos paint every inch of his visible skin and my body finds his artwork fascinating.

I wonder what they look like up close.

I look around my area making sure he's looking at me but when I look back his face never moves from mine.

I can't look away. Something about him is just so beautiful and mysterious.

He's dressed in black pants a white shirt and a leather jacket which is completely opposite to my outfit. I laugh a wide smile and a small smirk paints his perfect lips.

Leaning against his car neither of us look away. Lifting his hands about to take off his sunglasses Kaden takes a seat next to me by surprise.

Wrapping his hand around my arm he pulls me to his side harshly. My body knocks into his like always and he keeps his hand wrapped around my arm. It begins to hurt when he applies pinching pressure and I tighten my lips in pain.

"Ouch Kaden." I squirm and frail my arm upwards. I try to escape his hold but he yanks me down to eye level.

Locking eyes he looks at me angrily before leaning into my ear viscously. "Don't embarrass me out here. Don't talk to me that way June."

My eyes not noticeable widen and my heart skips a small beat.

Tugging his lips up in a twitch he lets go and I rip my hand arm away from him rubbing the skin. Kaden only smiles back politely.

"I got my money on the green car. His name around here is Zed. Undefeated champion, people come out here every night thinking they'll outdrive him but it never happens. This guy's a machine behind the wheel."

Turning my stare back to the green car the man no longer has his stare on me but Kaden.

His face is dropped in complete anger and goosebumps take over my body in slight terror as I look to Kaden but his stare is on the crowd in front of him oblivious.

Zed grips his hands into firsts before locking eyes with me.

Immediately unclenching he stares at me in complete curiosity, sadness and anger at the same time. For another couple minutes we simply stare at each other.

"Drivers to your seats." The man on the speakers yells excitedly and the crowd erupts in cheers. The noise is all absent in the background as I look at him.

Zed forcefully removes his stare and looks to the ground for a second before stocking off to the driver's door.

Rocks under his shoes crumble and the green door opens widely as he climbs in swiftly. Slamming the door with a thud, all of the engines shout to a roar through the midnight sky. - chapter 2

When the flag signals "go" the cars take off with a roar. The gravel under the wheels crunch as they speed away. The crowd stands with blaring shouts jumping up and down.

With angry curses of motivation and loud cheers of excitement, the cars rip down the abandoned road at a sickening fast speed.

Lifting my head to see where the cars go they take off down obstacles and my site loses them in the darkness. Slumping back in my seat Kaden keeps his head locked on the road and his knee bounces in anticipation.

"What are you doing?" I ask and he turns his head sharply.

"Keeping my eye on my money maker."

I wonder how long these things last? Snapping my fingers, bouncing my hands on my leg in a fidget Kaden presses his hand on top of them stopping my motion.

Immediately my body runs cold and I feel the need to apologize.

"Sorry," I whisper and frail my bum down on the bleachers growing small.

"It's a little annoying but all is good. "

"They're coming back!" A voice screams and everyone stands including myself. Just like I knew, the green car comes zooming past all of the cars in first. Ahead by a long shoot his car flies past the finish line skidding to a stop on its side.

"Yes!" Kaden stands and presses his hands to my jaw pulling me in for a forceful kiss. Moulding our lips together I try to pull away but he keeps going. Our lips part with a smucker and he smiles like a child.

"I love you so much!"

The sounds of the other cars zoom to the finish line and the crowd runs to the cars below.

"Oh god hun, you might just be my lucky charm, let's go." slapping our hands together he races us down the bleachers giving me no time to look where I'm going.

"Kaden slow down." I whimper trying to let go but he continues to race.

Tripping over my toes I fall on my two feet to the ground and he yanks me forward in a fast walk. Looking to the green car I watch as Zed steps out of his car with a slam. Reaching into his pocket his gaze locks on mine but drifts to Kaden hardly and his jaw tightens.

"Zed, that was amazing, I've never seen anything like that." Kaden rips his hand out of mine leaving me meters behind, running up to Zed as I stay put.

"helping me win those big bucks man, appreciated." Laughing sticking his hand out to shake Zed only eyes him aggressively with utter disgust.

After seconds go by and no motion to move forward Kaden lowers his hand. "Not a shaking guy I get it."

Turning around in a circle I focus my sight on all the cars and happy crowd. Giggling when I see a man fling a girl on his shoulders playfully I breathe the air around me clearly. Wallowing in my clear space for just a second of peace.

"June." His voice grabs my attention covering up his tone in polite, dragging me by the hand to his side. Standing in front of Zed he takes his sunglasses off and his bright brown eyes stare softly into mine.

I swallow down my dry throat as my body suddenly freezes, trapped in his beauty.

"This is my girlfriend June." Kaden nudges me but I don't say anything while still staring at Zed.

"June don't be rude." He whispers tightly in my ear and I look away when his hold on my hand squeezes my body down.

The move wasn't noticeable but Zed's eyes are locked on our hold. Viscousness pours from his frame.

"Sweetheart, you alright?" Zed changes his tone and his eyes soften on mine.

"Why wouldn't she be alright." Kaden presses and I stare weakly at him. He always speaks for me. Dropping my head slightly, someone catches Kaden's attention.

"You collecting your earnings?" the man's voice is sharp and Kaden's body stands in victory. Letting go of my hand he runs off to the podium and I stand in front of Zed leaning my head up to the stars.

They were so bright tonight.

"You didn't answer my question." I look down to the voice as he takes a step closer towards me Our chests are about to touch and in reflex I back away hitting the front of his car.

"Yes, I'm alright." I unconvincingly say and he shakes his head.

"I'm no idiot-"

"Is your name really Zed?" I interrupt not liking when people pry in my business.

"No sweetheart that's just my nickname around here. My names Zayn."

Zayn, Zayn, Zayn, Zayn.

"That's such a graceful name." I smile cheekily and he presses a finger to my chin giggling from the touch.

"Going to tell me yours?" nudging forward I stop my giggles and swallow when his breathes hit my lips.

"I- im June."

"That's a very pretty name June." smirking my heart beats out of my chest. I blink to make sure he's still there and he very much is.

"I like this." His eyes trail down my green dress that stops above my knee. "You're a very bright soul for this dark place sweetheart."

About to speak Zayn pulls away and places a cigarette between his lips resting against the car beside me. Looking past, Kaden walks back stuffing cash in his pocket.

"June let's go, this place is no good for you." Grabbing my hand he tugs me away from the car and I watch as Zayn's eyes lock on us both walking away.

"I can walk by myself." I try tugging my hand away but he pulls me closer.

"Dont do this. Don't make me yell at you I hate doing it." Kissing the top of my head he yanks me down the crunching gravel from our shoes.

Looking back once more, Zayn eyes me in complete alert.

Parting his lips of the cigarette white smoke blows into the air as he clutches his fists.

-chapter 3

"Charlie Mae open this door." I bang my fists against her apartment door as loud and annoyingly as I possibly can.

The door suddenly rips open revealing Mae in her sleeping shorts and a black bra. Her hair is completely a mess and my jaw drops.

"Mae is nearly midday." Laughing, she pulls on my arm into her studio apartment.

Placing a finger against her lips she cries in tiredness, "It's 12 pm and I have a raging hangover. Please shush." She begs and walks into her bedroom tumbling back into her white sheets hugging herself like a taco.

"Oh come on, again?" I jump on the bed pulling the covers over my body and pull right up to her face in a whispering tone.

"What did you do last night?"

She parts her lips weakly, clearly unhappy I'm asking questions. "Club, drank, fucked, feel like death." muttering her eyes shut her breaths come out at a clear pace signalling she's asleep.

"I'm glad one of us has their fun." Kissing Mae's forehead I turn on my side about to shut my eyes when a text from Kaden pops up on my phone.

Going to check out houses in Italy this weekend on a business trip. Will miss you.

I sigh to myself and look at Mae. I don't want to leave. It was never what I wanted.

Shutting my phone off I stare at the ceiling thinking about Zayn. How his black messy hair was pulled off of his face so perfectly. His warm smile when we locked eyes and the coolness of his body language.

Something about him makes me want to see him again.

I feel like an awful person.

-

It's 6 pm and Mae woke up about an hour ago. I watched her make this god awful green juice that she choked down. Apparently, it cleanses her ora. While she drank she placed her new crystals in a small jar and sat them in the centre of her wood table.

Keeps the negative spirits away and she claims it's positive energy.

I aspire to be her level of chill.

"Can I ask you a question?" I say as she cleans her kitchen table. Standing taller she leans over the table lifting her eyebrows.

"Shoot me."

Shifting on my seat I twiddle my small fingers together brushing over the light pink nail polish. "I went somewhere last night with Kaden-"

"Oh enough with that fucker. Saying his name forms bile in my throat. I don't understand how you stand him, he's awful to you."

She's begged me to leave him but I physically can't.

Besides, he's nice when we're alone together. I like the happy version of him.

He loves me.

"Kaden took me to a street race thing for him to gamble and there was this boy." That's what catches her attention. Dropping the rag in her hand she runs over to the seat opposite of mine dropping her body.

"Was he a racer?" Her face edges forward and when I nod she squeals deafeningly and I cover her mouth with my hand.

"Look let me just vent." She nods quickly.

"He wouldn't stop staring at me and then Kaden walked over with me to congratulate him. He still wouldn't stop eyeing me and I felt all the air around me was sucked away. anyways when Kaden went to go collect his money we talked and I can't get him out of my head. I'm an awful person for thinking this way when I'm in a relationship-"

Gripping my wrist she pulls my hand down eyeing me hardly. "Bestie, I'm afraid to tell you this but I don't care what I have to do. We're going to that damn race tonight."

I pull my arm away standing off the chair. "Mae, no I am not."

"You just said you couldn't stop thinking about him, we're going back." matching my stance I start to freak. If Kaden knows I went back there he'll have my head.

Looking to the door and back to Mae she tilts her head in warning.

"Don't you dare-"

In slick movement, I take off on my heels for the door but my hips are pulled back and suddenly I'm on the floor with a body above me. "get off of me." Frailing my hands to her shoulders to get her off she pins my hands above my head. Blowing a huff of air, my blonde lock that escaped my ponytail flies out of my face.

"June Elizabeth Davis, one of these days you are going to thank me for what I'm about to do." shifting my hips she sits on my torso pinning me completely and I exhale as my lungs constrict.

"We're going to that damn race and we're looking pretty."

...

As the hour's tick by, we start getting ready and she presents outfits to me. "Okay how about this?" she holds a black silk dress to my vision and I shake my head.

"I am not wearing that but go ahead for yourself." Frowning she rolls her eyes and begins to strip. Once her clothes are removed she pulls the black dress up her body and it sticks to every inch of her curves tightly.

"Hot." Is all I say and she claps her hands to her sides. She's a beautiful woman.

"Well what about you miss floral." Looking down at my yellow flower summer dress I smile.

"What else do you think I'm going to wear?" anything with flowers can have my credit card.

In awe, she walks towards me and pulls on my hand lightly. If she pressed any harder the bruises I covered from last night would've made me squirm but she's always so gentle.

"I expected nothing less. Ready my love?" the jingling of her car keys sound through the room and hooks are arms stepping into the hallway.

"I'm going to make a fool out of myself, I just know." Mumbling we take off to the elevator.

-

Pulling up to the race she parks next to the light and we make our way out of the car. Looking around it feels different that I'm not with someone I tread around with my every move.

The air seems clear.

As we walk to the bleachers we bypass the crowd that has gotten bigger since yesterday. I'm guessing because it's a Friday.

Hitting someone's shoulder by accident I stop turning around, "im sorry, im sorry." I yell a beg to the blonde body that doesn't care.

"I feel so bad." frowning to myself Mae wraps her hand in mine and pulls us away.

"You're too nice, I aspire to be you. I couldn't give a shit about any other than myself and you."

Standing at the edge of the bleachers we walk past rows and rows of black outfits. Of course, leaving me to be the different one in the crowd.

I hate when people stare. I feel like they can read me like an open book. Plopping down in the same seat as yesterday I lock my eyes on the cars below and notice Zayn's green one isn't there.

"He's not here." I bite my cheek as Mae checks her phone.

"Love, there's ten more minutes left, the big boys are always late." Just like she said in the next minute I watch his green car zoom to the starting line. Braking quickly dust flies around his car eloping it in disguise and the crowd begins to scream. The gravel crunches under the tires and I stare at the car watching his body slowly climb out of the car.

He's so beautiful.

Suddenly a thought pops in my mind and I turn to Mae slapping her legs. "Ouch, fu-"

"He's going to think I'm stalking him," I whisper shout and out of all things she laughs aggressively holding her side.

Slouching from her reaction she pulls me into her side rubbing my shoulders. "Just like I said you're too sweet for this world. He's not going to think that."

"Oh god." I hide the red of my cheeks into her body but she pulls my arms back squeezing my cheeks.

"June your dick boyfriends in Italy do what you want for once."

Biting my cheek I look away shyly to the green car to see him perched on the side with his cigarette between his lips staring at me with a smirk.

All the air becomes robbed of my lungs when he winks to me.

Watching him step away into his car the crowd cheers once they all step on the pedal speeding down the course through the forest.

After the race, I have no clue where he went off to. The green car of course won but he ran off somewhere.

Sitting on my seat a little sad I turn to Mae who has her eyes locked on a brunette.

"Oh wow." her eyes dilate looking at a brunette boy resting against a black car. His hair is a messy straight hairstyle as he smokes on a cigarette.

"This is very bitchy of me but I'm gonna go talk to him. Go find your boy and text me when you want to leave."

Kissing my cheek I watch her sprint down the bleachers holding her purse. As her shoes touch the ground she rides her dress upwards and fixes her boobs. Covering my mouth with my palm I watch her walk confidently to the boy.

I giggle into my palms from how much love I have for her.  I wish I had the nerve to do that.

After sitting on top of the empty bleachers Mae and the boy walked to a bathroom beside the podium.

She really is quick.

Fiddling with my nails on the stairs my legs grow tired. I think I might go for a walk as I wait.

Standing I carefully climb down. I take my foot making sure each placement is at a slow pace.  I've always been prone to falling down these things.

Reaching the bottom my foot gets caught in one of the holes and my body falls forward.

A hard gasp leaves my lips and I shut my eyes waiting to hit the gravel. Falling a pair of warm hands suddenly wrap around my back and I land into a hard chest. Immediately my own hands wrap around their neck squeezing a black jacket.

Inhaling a thankful breath my foot aches from a sharp pain and I shut my eyes. "Thanks, I'm sorry. Lost my balance." My tone is full of embarrassment and physical pain.

"Sweetheart, you alright?" The voice of the boy I met yesterday rings in my ears and I look up to his frame immediately.

Time seems to stops and I have to remind myself he just spoke to me.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I breathlessly say looking to his eyes that always catch my attention. Looking closer there's a light green speck of colour around his irises.

"Something catch your attention?" Winding my body to stand on the bleachers he never lets go and stares at me with a grin.

"Your eyes are very pretty." I giggle with my hands around his neck still. Zayn's hands move to my waist of my yellow dress pulling me closer.

"And what might you be doing here tonight?" his eyebrows raise and my face grows red. Tilting my head down in a weak smile, his finger on my chin lifts my gaze to him.

"Tell me I'm wrong but did sweet June miss me?" Zayn leans forward and my body runs frozen as a small inhale clenches my lungs.

"I wanted to see you again." My chest raises up and down from how close he's gotten and still holds me up with his two hands.

"That just made my night sweetheart."

Letting my body go so I can rest my weight on my foot I move my hands to his shoulders to stand myself. Placing pressure a sharp pain races through my body causing my leg to buckle.

"Ah- Ouch." I cry lifting up my hurt foot and Zayn's hands go to my elbows, holding up my bent body.

"Fuck I think you hurt your ankle, c'mere." tracing his hands down my body he lifts me up bridal style. Hitting his chest from the acceleration he caries me effortlessly down the gravel.

"Are you sure this is necessary? I'm sure I can walk on it." I wrap my hands around his neck and he shakes his head.

"Just let me take a look at it."

Speaking full of worry I roll my eyes slightly which causes him to stop.

"Did you just roll your eyes?" He says holding me closer and I begin to laugh shaking my head.

"No, no I didn't not." my hands grip the leather jacket around his neck.

"You're lucky I like you." His face remains hard as he carries me throughout the crowd. Judgemental looks from others stare and I turn my head away.

Leaning down he places my body on the hood of his car. Trapping me in with his hands I press mine to his forearm, readjusting myself so I'm steady.

Pushing my bum back I release my hands from his strong arms and he stares deeply into me.

"Who are you?" He whispers barely audible.

"Well, I'm June." Scrunching my face in a giggle, Zayn chuckles pulling away.

Placing his hands on my leg he lifts it up gently. "I'm just going to look alright."

Wrapping his hands lightly around my ankle I hiss back from the touch. "That hurt." I frown trying to pull my leg away but he brings it right back to his stare. Tracing his fingers around the spot he parts his lips.

"It's not broken but definitely a mild sprain. I'll have to wrap it up."

My eyes widen. "Wrap it up? Zayn I think that's a little much-"

"June do you want this to get worse?" I sink my hips to the green paint.

"No."

He smiles cockily in victory. "Come with me." before I can blink Zayn lifts me up again and I wrap my arms around his neck. Landing into his chest with a thud, wasting no time he walks off down the road.

The bottom of his black shoes crush the gravel below I take time to roam my eyes over his face. The light stubble of his beard and the tiny silver hoops in his ears. Trying to stop my body I cant and I press my hands to his hair brushing it back.

"How old are you?" I ask to his face that has been staring at me this whole time.

"24 you?"

"23."

Straightening my back I look behind us as he continues down the road. "Are you kidnapping? Should I be scared?"

Looking at me with a complete snicker we appear to a small wooden shack to the side of the racing road. "Zayn?" I giggle and he sets me down on the wooden stairs.

"There's medical stuff inside, I'll be right back."

Walking up the stairs he opens the door with a creek and disappears.

Looking to the dark road in front, my eyes train on the forest next to me and I just breathe contently. I wonder what the race track is like in there... maybe it's just a road.

I've always been a happy person. I can't help it, it makes me feel full of light like the flowers in the fields that grow from it. I find it's better to be happy than anything else. Any other emotion is just to exhausting for my life.

The door creaks once more and I look to Zayn with one of those ankle bandages in his hand. Walking around my frame he bends down and slips his hand to my leg raising it.

With his hand to my injured foot he sips off my shoe.

"I think this is a little too soon." I tease and he places my small white vans to the side. My matching yellow socks reveal themselves and when I flex my foot playfully he smiles widely.

He should smile more often.

"I like your dress," he says, beginning to straighten out the bandage.

"You really think so? Everyone around here was eyeing me because of it."

Staring at me from below he shakes his head firmly. "You took them by surprise. Like I said we don't get that man people with your soul around here, you look beautiful."

My heart beats out of my chest from his simple words and lacing the bandage around my foot tightly I hiss from the touch.

"Be nicer that hurts."

Releasing his hold just a bit, the bandage loops carefully around my foot. "Sorry, I'm not used to being so gentle." whispering delicately I can't help but stare into his beautiful frame and butterflies flutter in my stomach.

"So you like flowers?" he asks cutting through the quiet, eyeing my dress up and down with another smile. "Yesterday you wore a similar dress with that flower pattern."

In observation he taps his hand on my thigh tracing the flower pattern of my dress.

"I've always loved flowers, they're my favourite thing. I work at a floral shop too."

Tightening the bandage on my foot for the last time I gasp and my body jumps upwards.

"There. all done."

Taking my white shoe he slips it back on my foot carefully. My foot takes some getting used to but it sits comfortably. Re tying the laces in a bow he takes a seat beside me.

"Thanks for being gentle!" I laugh turning my body to face him. Resting my back on the railing of the steps Zayn slides closer pressing his elbows to his knees turning his head watching me.

"So you work at a flower shop?"

"Yeah, it's downtown called petal. It's on a relatively plain street but the doors are full of pink flowers. It's quite the scene." I giggle from the nature of that statement. All of the doors on the street are rock and there's little to no light in the night except for the bright colours from our shop. "It smells heavenly too. "

Zayn smiles gracefully and I find myself in a trance from the small gesture. "How often do you work?"

"Weekdays I get the weekends off which is nice. What about you? This is certainly a well-paying job and you got everyone fangirling over you."

Zayn shakes his head and looks at the road. "More than well paying. And I could care less about the people, I do this for me. It's a total rush."

Watching his side profile as he speaks my eyes trace to his hands covered in thick silver rings.

"What about you? Do you like the rush?" He asks and I bite my lip looking into the darkness.

"Always wanted to experience it but I have yet to. Just not allowed." I say the last part quietly brushing my dress out when his hand falls on mine stopping the movements.

Looking up he eyes me hard. "June I didn't like how your boyfriend was touching you yesterday." Zayn's voice grows in anger and I try to pull my hand back but he doesn't let go.

"This isn't something I'd like to talk about."

"If he ever lays a hand on you like ever again I'm not keeping to myself."  swallowing down my dry throat terrified thoughts roll through my mind and I shake my head.

"Please don't do that you don't understand." I plead and his face tilts to the side.

"Understand what?"

"Just stop it Zayn." I scrunch my face and he lightens his tone.

"I'm sorry June I'll let it go but I mean what I said. No one should treat you like that."

Looking up to his eyes I know that he's telling the truth but why does he even care?

Kaden loves me, is all I can repeat to myself. He's the one person that loves me in this messed-up world.

My phone vibrates in my pocket disrupting the quiet and I take it out. Placing it to my ear the caller ID reads Mae.

"Mae are you alright?" Zayn looks to me in alert but I brush my hand in the air.

"I'm going over to Louis's house tonight. If you don't have a ride you can take my car."

My shoulders slump and I press my hand to my temple. Im an awful driver. "Well, where are you going are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Oh trust me I'll be alright. He is the man of my dreams. But do you have a ride home or not?" Looking at Zayn he nods his head at me and I tilt my head pressing the phone away from my ear.

"What?"

"I'll take you home." Zayn stands from the seat and my eyes go wide. How did he hear that?

"No Zayn I-" Scrunching my eyes he interrupts. "Not up for discussion flower girl, let's go."

Inhaling a small breath I put the phone back on my ears. "Well that was very cute, I guess you do have a ride with Mr big time, have fun!" She hangs up the call and I lock my eyes on Zayn.

"You don't need to do this."

"We're in the middle of nowhere and it will make me feel better knowing you got home safe." Reaching his hand out for mine I place it in his palm and feel the coldness of his rings on my skin. Standing me to my feet I scrunch my face a little in discomfort getting used to the tightness on my foot.

"Here." he reaches his arm out for me to grab and I lace my hands around his forearm.

"Thank you!"

My dress blows back in the wind as we walk to his car slowly. Getting to his green car he opens the door for me and helps me in. Grabbing his arm tightly as I sink to the bottom as he watches my every move.

Once I'm comfortable he leans forward. Our lips are inches apart and his eyes lock on my lips. "you alright in here?"

I swallow yelling at myself that I got into this situation. "yes I'm alright."

Pulling away Zayn closes the door with a huge smile that drops when he turns to the public. Climbing into his side the jingle of the keys stick into the ignition and the car roars to a start. The vibration hits my body and I can feel it through every inch of my viens. "Woah." Is all I can say looking through the dark interior.

This is awesome and I can't help but exhale loudly. "I'm in a race car."

"Hey, June?" He questions in thought and I look back at him smiling, "Yes?"

"You know how you said you wanted to experience shit?" He furrows his eyebrows in deep thought that makes me giggle. He's so serious.

"Yes, I do actually." Dropping his face in complete excitement I see the wheels turning in his brain.

"Well sweetheart, you're driving us home."

[nochedura]

bane “nochedura” bane timeline of events

so the thing about bane is most of the shit written with him in it is a) racist, b) ooc, c) a horrible mix of both, or d) uses him because of his status as Bat Breaker as a way to show someone else’s strength which is often times not realistic (ex. theres a new villain in town and to show how tough they are they clowned on bane). a lot of interpretations tend to forget he is brawn And brain (tbh i tend to write him as a strategist first and a fighter second) and its all just a mess.

this interpretation of bane is an attempt to right these wrongs and also streamline his canon a bit because we All Know comics are a mess and extremely inconsistent but especially with characters who don’t get their own titles. nochedura is an anti-hero and also currently on the path of redemption. obviously he’s still not nice and has done a lot of Fuck Shit but yknow. who hasnt.

with that in mind this is a very broad timeline of events that have happened to this bane in particular (with the links to the comics accompanying these events) to clarify what the heck is happening with this man and why he’s like this. im taking a lot of liberties here but fuck everybody im god. without further ado.

bane is born in pena duro. he grows up under the prison’s influence, gets a vision that he was born to rule and in order to become his ideal self he must kill his fear (which takes the form of a bat, obviously), spends 10 years in the cavidad obscura* after killing a man at 6 y/o, and comes out the biggest and the strongest. he trains his body and his mind (by reading thousands upon thousands of books) as he pursues self actualization. he learns from his ally bird that the greatest city in the world is gotham and it is ruled by batman and he decides to break out of prison and kill him to take gotham by force. he is selected for venom experimentation and is the only survivor of the drug’s intensity. the venom aids him in his efforts to get to gotham (if you read nothing else on this list read vengeance of bane #1 (+ 2) because its Good and its required bane reading material)

bane relocates to gotham after kidnapping and killing pena duro’s warden and studies batman. he’s able to figure out his secret identity within a few months and unleashes everybody from arkham city with the intent of mentally and physically breaking bruce so that he can kill him. this culminates in the final confrontation in which batman isn’t even strong enough to fight back and bane decides that killing him would be a mercy and breaks his back. (knightfall is long and incomprehensible so i’ll just link the directory page and broken bat #11)

bane rules gotham for a while and its sexy up until batman’s replacement azrael clowns on him. the fight’s pretty sexy but honestly i dont care about this that much. (he who rules the night #11)

after losing to azrael bane does some silent contemplation in black gate prison. he was taken off of venom cold turkey and suffers through crippling withdraws but he, and i quote, “bears the pain.” he realizes venom was, in fact, poisoning him and taking him further away from his Ideal Self. he finds out venom is being further distributed and after some nonsense breaks out of prison Again to track these clowns down. he has a confrontation with bruce who he tells he has no qualms with, decides he wants to find his father, and presumably goes back to santa prisca. this is also the beginning of bane coming to the conclusion that he’s an innocent man which comes up later. (vengeance of bane #2)

so this is where im Really taking liberties. this is what i’m choosing to call the switcheroo arc where i clown around and decide im in charge and im going to make this more comprehensive. bane goes to santa prisca and gets told that there are five men who could be his dad and it probably takes some time to narrow down that list (while also finding out who each of these men are) so i’m declaring that’s what he’s doing for a while. this search is ongoing and doesnt stop until, well, he finds him. he’s still a villain at this point even though he claims to be innocent.

this is also where he’s knocking out some loose ends. specifically he tracks down a reporter who interviewed him as a teen and murders him for knowing something that could paint him as sympathetic. (batman secret files #2)

it’s at this point that he joins up with the secret six. he probably does this for the purpose of networking and garnering information, but then gets sort of swept up in everything and grows extremely attached to scandal savage, who he takes in as an adopted daughter. secret six 2008 is long and has a lot going on but its a good time. (SPOILERS) at the end of it he convinces everyone in the group to go on a suicide mission with an ulterior motive of severing his attachments to them because he feels that his affection has weakened him. everything goes according to plan and he breaks out of a police van and fucks off. (/SPOILERS) (secret six 2008)

after some time away from all that he gets into a feud with ra’s al ghul who wanted bane as his heir but some bullshit happened with talia, i forget, this doesnt matter to me, what Does matter is he’s now on a crusade to fuck up all the lazarus pits for funsies. this is also the point where he realizes one of the men on his Dad List is thomas wayne. he confronts bruce about this and everyone in the batfam is, understandably, cross. but bruce is nothing without his rehabilitation shtick so he goes crime stopping with bane in the batmobile until the results of the drug test come out and thomas is not, in fact, the father. this absolutely crushes bane for reasons he doesnt understand (he’s a lonely man and it turns out he Does need a family) but batman tells bane if he proves he’s Actually innocent by, yknow, stopping crime rather than doing crime, then he’ll help him find his actual dad. he agrees, but uses... unconventional (read: horrific) methods. (gotham knights #33-36) (tw for rape)

bane continues fighting crime and trying to prove his innocence and change/redeem himself up until he actually finds his real dad who is.......... king snake! who at this point in the canon is really fucked up and somehow alive in the himalayas and is just a real mean son of a bitch. bane is conflicted because like, hey cool, a dad, but also, he kinda sucks! bane’s kinda fucked up himself because he’s been climbing up a mountain and he’s a little brain sicky so i think hes just like... trying to absorb everything and then the bat crew shows up because they do Not like the idea of bane finding his dad who is king snake who is also at a fucking lazarus pit. king snake gets pissed when they show up and starts attacking and almost shoots batman but bane, distraught, jumps in front of the bullet and takes several in the back, lamenting that he wishes thomas was his father and not king snake. king snake ends up getting killed(?) and batman dunks bane in the remainder of the lazarus pit and gets brought back to life, reborn and changed. (gotham knights #47-49)

at this point this is just. my own writing. i guess. but after bane, yknow, literally died for bruce, bruce realizes that bane truly has bettered himself and is on the path of becoming a good man. he welcomes bane into the vigilante side and, eventually, to the batfam itself. when a man breaks your back and then takes several machine gun bullets for you a few years later i figure batman’s like... alright we’re square. comics are like that.

this is also where bane realizes he was wrong to cut ties with the secret six and seeks out scandal savage and her wives and brings them back into his life as his adopted daughter (and daughters in law)

so bane’s just... clowning now. he’s still like, brutal, and when he’s fighting baddies he’s not opposed to just Wrecking their shit (see: the time he used one of mr. freeze’s goons’ freeze gun on his arm) and i think he definitely does some murders but only if it’s like. the sort of bastard who really deserves it(tm) so like. mass murderers. the joker. sex criminals. etc. he’s not always in bruce’s best graces and he’s still on THIN ICE with dick and tim and the rest but its a work in progress. he’s trying.

anyway i left out a Lot of shit because like. theres a lot. but this is ... the basics believe it or not tl;dr bane is a good man born into horrific circumstances and he did a LOT of bad shit but he’s working on redeeming himself.

[tamalam11]

yet more S6 speculations

Soooooooo we’ve got some more bts AND casting news! Which means, of course, that my head is spinning threads of ideas that will be so far off the mark it’s embarrassing. 

FIRST Papa Argent is one of my fave Teen Wolf characters and having JR Bourne join The 100 cast is like the fulfillment of a wish I didn’t even think to ask for. I’m stoked. So lets deal with the fact that, per EW 

Russell, who rules over a “peaceful society” will cross paths with Clarke (Eliza Taylor), with whom he’ll develop a — surprise, surprise — “complicated relationship.

aaaaaaand everyone just automatically assumes this means they’ll have a romantic relationship?! Guys. Really? I’m a shipper. I love shipping. I ship everything and everyone, it’s what I live for. And I detest the term ‘shipper googles’. But this is the one time I think it might apply. Because we’ve been so hurt with all the Bellarke shit (pun intended) that we think anything and everything will be used against us. Against them. We just expect to be hurt by everything at this point. I understand it. I feel it. BUT!!! This guy is old enough to be Clarke’s father! And you know who else Clarke has been known to have Complicated Relationships with? Her mother. Jaha. Roan. Other leaders. People in power. Because our girl IS power. And of course she is gonna butt heads with anyone who tries to control her and her people. That’s just my take. ALSO though, the new planet is described as a “peaceful society” so I’m wondering where all these “difficult moral choices” are coming from??? If they’re peaceful, and Clarke has, as mentioned by JRoth previously, taken Monty’s message to heart, then we should all just be able to live together peacefully. right?? hahaahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!!!

The BTS’ we got from Lake Lillooet are simply stunning. The fact that we keep getting BTS from JRoth of Eliza & Tasya together is head-shaking. (Like, dont @ me, but-Im usually a JRoth fan. I cant figure out if he’s just that dense, or he just doesn’t care. I don’t think he’s dense, but if he just doesn’t care then I’m wrong about him and everyone else is right and that just sucks/hurts.) So we know that Clarke & Echo are going be grouped together in these first couple eps at least. They were together on the bridge of the Eligius ship, and here they are together again on the beach. With those black backpacks again. Who else was carrying a black backpack? (yeah, yeah. Like, everyone, I know) Bellamy. So where is he?? The only other confirmed cast members at the lake location shoot are Jordan (who either snapchatted or Insta storied from there. I can’t remember because I started this post 10 hours ago before work) and Sachin, who posted a pic on his twitter. SO. There’s a group that contains at least Clarke, Echo, Shaw, & Jackson. That’s a weird group.I can’t wrap my head around it. Why are 2/3 of your remaining Drs out scouting a foreign planet together. How/why does Shaw fit in there? It’s 1am. I got nothing.

[panticwritten]

Pearl-Handled Shotgun: Chapter One

Yeah. I have no posting schedule for this haha. We’ll just see how it goes.

Prologue

Word count: 2978

TW:

Emotional warfare (of the controlling parent kind)

Hardcore dissociation

Reference to police brutality

Alyssa

“You’re lucky we could keep it out of the newspapers.”

Alyssa doesn’t look at her father, drumming her nails against the arm of the chair. Her mom watches from a chair behind him, her disapproval clear in the curve of her brow, the thin line of her mouth. The teen turns her head so she doesn’t have to see either of them.

“That man could have pressed charges. Do you think he would have gone after your little friends?” She bristles at the sneer in his voice, but she keeps her mouth shut. “You have a promising future ahead of you, I won’t stand by and watch you throw that away.”

She nods idly, the bare minimum of what he wants from her.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, your lashing out. Your brother never did anything like this.”

Ah, there it is. Calim, the perfect son. The good one. The easy one.

“He just never got caught,” she mutters.

“What was that?”

She looks up, at the familiar anger in her father’s eyes. He cocks an eyebrow up, expectant. She sighs and shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

He stares at her, his gaze hard, before returning to pacing to and fro in front of the fireplace. “What else have you been doing behind our backs? It isn’t safe, and it certainly isn’t acceptable.”

“Last night was an accident,” Alyssa says before she can hold the words back. “We took a wrong turn.”

He stills, burning eyes back on her. “You shouldn’t have been out at all last night!”

“I already apologized for that.”

“You can’t really think a petty ‘sorry’ will make up for breaking our trust? For sneaking out, so you could—what? Run around the city with a group of delinquents?”

She straightens up, scrabbling to hold onto her unruffled air. “Delinquents?”

“They’re a bad influence.”

“They are not!” Shoulders squared, Alyssa’s practiced placidity ruptures at his ‘holier than thou’ stance. “Stephanie and Jared are good friends, and they don’t treat me like a glass doll or a- a- a piece of advertising!”

“Alyssa, dear, please don’t yell,” her mom warns, her voice soft. It diffuses the immediate tension in the air. Her father says nothing. The coolness in his eyes, however, tells her the damage has already been done. Alyssa clears her throat and continues with more restraint.

“I apologize, sincerely, for what happened. I should have been honest with you.” She pauses, heartened when her father jerks his head in a nod. “It wasn’t the first time I left without permission, and it was unfair of me keep you in the dark.”

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times have you snuck out?” he asks. His deceptively level voice spreads anxiety through her chest, thick and sticky in her throat. She swallows it down and makes a mental tally.

“Twelve?” She offers. It’s not counting the days she used shopping trips as cover for driving the roads on the eastern edges of Portland with her friends, but she doesn’t tell him that.

He considers this thoughtfully, as if deciding whether he’ll have honey or jam on his toast. Alyssa sees it in his eyes when he comes to a conclusion, one fist coming down on his open palm.

“Then we’ll discuss this again in twelve weeks.”

Her heart constricts in her chest, driving her to her feet. She manages to keep her mouth shut, but that’s not enough. It’s never enough. He raises a brow, unimpressed, and starts for the family room door.

“You won’t leave the manor unattended until then. You have ten minutes to tell your friends before I collect your devices.” He pauses at the door, looking back with a painfully detached expression. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she says automatically, unable to suppress the reflex.

The door closes behind him, with hardly a whisper. She stares unseeing at the polished surface, almost wishing he had slammed it. She lowers herself back into the chair, wiping the back of a hand over her eyes before the pinch behind them can turn into tears.

If he can keep ahold of his temper, so can she.

“It could have been worse.” Alyssa jolts violently when her mom speaks. She had almost forgotten she was here.

“I know.” She doesn’t look over, dragging her phone out of her pocket. Steph and Jared will lose their minds if she just disappears for three months, especially after her father left them in jail for the night.

“You could have been killed,” she continues, voice low. Alyssa freezes, her fingers hovering over the screen. “ Just because we are who we are doesn’t mean it’s safe to get into trouble. An officer won’t think twice before they pull that trigger.”

Alyssa nods, looking up. Without her father here as a distraction, she now sees what she didn’t before in her mom’s furrowed brow, pressed lips. Fear, not disappointment. Regret pangs in her chest. “I know, mom. I swear we weren’t trying to do anything illegal.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She rises from her chair, full of grace as always, and offers her daughter a strained smile. “You need to be careful. Smarter. I’ll try to talk your father down, but I do agree that you need time to think about what happened last night.”

She nods again, and her mom starts for the door.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

She doesn’t answer, closing the door silently behind her. Alyssa sighs, sinking deeper into the back of the chair, and pulls up a group chat.

A<-- Hey.

A<-- I am SO sorry about my father, I can’t believe he just left you there.

A<-- I hope you both are okay. At the very least, that you’re home safe.

A<-- I can’t leave the house on my own for a few months, and he’ll be back for my phone any minute now.

She watches the screen with bated breath. After a moment, both of their icons appear beside the messages. Before she can register her relief, Steph responds.

S--> hey!

S--> i was starting to rly worry

S--> mom picked us up right after u left

A<-- Oh, thank god.

J--> a few months

J--> what the hell

J--> my dad took my keys but like

J--> just for a two weeks

S--> im grounded for a month :(

A<-- We’ve talked about my parents before. Are you really surprised?

J--> nah i guess not

J--> but thats hella rough

J--> someone needs to take some parenting classes

S--> im sorry aly

J--> how to be a good dad and not alienate your children or whatever

J--> oh shit yeah we kinda did get you in trouble huh

A<-- It’s not your fault. My mom said she’ll try to change his mind, but I doubt that will do much good.

A<-- Besides, you both got in trouble, too. It’s as much my fault as it is yours.

J--> no man dont say that

J--> youd never been camping thats a fucking crime

J--> i mean shooting at teenagers for pitching a damn tent should be a crime but thats a whole other thing

S--> jj

S--> not funny

A<-- He’s right, though.

J--> hell yeah drinking down this validation

J--> glug glug motherfucker

S--> stop

S--> ur ok tho?

S--> like should we worry?

Her phone slips through her fingers, pulled away by nimble hands, before she can answer. She hadn’t noticed her father come back in, and he leaves again without otherwise acknowledging her. She watches him go without a word.

Arguing more would make it worse. She’s lucky to have gotten ten minutes.

Now that she’s alone with nothing to do, she hefts herself upright. She stares at the embers glowing in the fireplace, considering what to do for the rest of the day. She has schoolwork due on Monday. She needs to decide within the month between Oxford—her father’s alma mater—or the local university her friends already enrolled in.

PSU sounds more fun. She wouldn’t like to think of the repercussions that may come out of that decision, though. Her parents don’t even know she applied.

She shakes her head and strides out of the room. Her feet take her along the familiar path upstairs to her study while she broods about three months without the promise of a night out on the town or a day flying along back roads in Jared’s convertible. By the time the bars are lifted, she’ll have graduated.

And she’ll have a month with them before her inevitable shipment off to Oxford.

She slams the door much harder than intended at the thought. She’s visited the campus a few times, walked through the city, and something about it leaves her uneasy. It’s beautiful, certainly, but it feels wrong.

She leans back against the door with a sigh, peering at the stack of books on her desk. The last thing she needs is for her grades to slip. She’s on thin ice as it is.

Her gaze drifts to the shelves lining the back of the room. They hold the books she’s sequestered from the library, or those that have been gifted to her.

She crosses to the closest shelf, running a finger along the books’ spines. Many of them, she still hasn’t read. She hasn’t had time to read since her parents began taking her to functions and benefits.

She dips a finger over the lip of the first in a series of old tomes wrapped in leather, one of her mom’s gifts to her this past Christmas, and drags it out. The first seems more weathered than the rest, the cover dull and rough rather than polished. She skimmed the first few pages when she first got the books, and she know there must have been effort put into it. The whole series is handwritten.

It’s as good as anything else.

She takes the book to her desk, promising herself that she’ll only read for a while. She has to get some work done before dinner, after all.

*****

“Alyssa? Are you in there?”

Alyssa jumps at the crackle of the intercom, heart racing and unseeing eyes leaving the yellowed pages of the book. It takes a few seconds to orient herself, remembering where she is. When she does, she recoils at the headache pounding behind her eyes, the roiling tension in her stomach.

She glances back down at the book to find it open near the middle. She can’t remember reading more than the first few pages—it was written as a personal diary of a slave girl named Brietta. She wrote in a neat script about mundane chores and city life, but she can’t remember the details of the anecdotes. She closes her eyes to try and remember.

Her stomach turns over when she catches a wisp of it, but it doesn’t stay long enough for her to grasp the memory itself.

“Alyssa!”

She jolts again, her eyes flying open. She rushes from her seat to the intercom and presses the flashing button for the dining room.

“Yes, mom, I’m here. What is it?”

“Come down for dinner, dear. I hope you haven’t been working too hard.”

She hesitates before answering, looking back to the book. It must have been hours since she holed myself up in there. She doesn’t remember any of it. She shakes her head and taps the button again.

“I’m fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She returns to the desk, ignoring her mother’s confirmation, and turns back to the first couple pages of the book. She finds the mention of ‘afternoons near the cold river after tending to mother’s sickness,’ jams one of many bookmarks upon the desk between the pages, and snaps the book shut.

She leaves it on the desk for later investigation, hurrying out to join her family in the dining room. Maybe some food will ease her lingering nausea.

By the time she enters the dining room on the ground floor, both of her parents are already perched in their seats at the far end of the table. Her mom greets her with a warm smile, her father with a nod from the end chair.

She apologizes for being late and takes a seat across from her mom. The air lays heavy upon the room, increasing the pressure behind her eyes. Even the light viola drifting from the wall speakers can’t break the tension growing with each overdone slice of a knife her father grinds on his plate through the steak.

She struggles to keep from screwing her eyes shut against it, forcing her hands into measured strokes. One bite at a time, then this will be over.

“So.”

It’s her mom that breaks the silence. All sounds of eating pause for only a moment, the rhythm of the meal changing, before continuing as though it never stopped.

“It’s gotten warm awfully fast this year, hasn’t it? Just last week it was freezing.”

“And now we’re in the upper seventies,” her father agrees.

Alyssa manages hold back a physical sigh of relief, bringing a stalk of asparagus to her lips. Her parents chat about the weather, and she keeps her head down—metaphorically speaking.

“How was your afternoon, Alyssa?” her mom asks, bright eyes on her. She lowers a slice of steak back to her plate and clears her throat with a brief glance at her father.

“Uneventful. How was yours, mother?”

She inclines her head, a conspiratorial smile playing on her lips. “Absolutely boring. My husband and daughter were hidden away in their studies all day.”

She laughs before Alyssa can feel guilty. She reaches across the table and brushes her fingers over the back of Alyssa’s hand, forgiveness promised in her eyes.

“Hidden away?” her father remarks. His words flow warmly, a rare grin directed at his wife. “My door is always open to you, Carmen.”

“And watch you approve paperwork all day? No thank you, sir!”

Alyssa can’t help but smile at the exchange.

“And you? You were upstairs for quite a while.”

The sharp change in her father’s tone straightens her spine, and her my expression morphs back into one of bland interest as she turns to meet his eyes. The sudden movement jolts her headache, and she isn’t able to hide all of her wince behind her clenched jaw.

“I was catching up on some reading for class,” she lies smoothly.

“I see.” He nods and leans forward in his chair. “You don’t look well.”

She hesitates, unwilling to admit the truth. She can’t imagine her father’s reaction to her losing several hours of time would be good, so she waits for the jammed cogs in her brain to churn out a suitable response.

“It’s just a headache,” she promises after a long pause, ignoring the way her stomach somersaults as she speaks. “Eye-strain, maybe. I was reading for several hours.”

“You shouldn’t work so hard.” Her mom’s serene interjection prompts her father to return his attention to his plate.

“I lost track of time.” Alyssa offers her a smile. She mirrors it, then turns back to her husband to discuss their upcoming trip to the capital.

Alyssa wastes no more time clearing her plate and asking to be excused. Her mom tells her to take an ibuprofen from her purse in the front hall, which she does on her way back upstairs.

Back on the third floor, she pauses at the door to her study. Just a few steps down the hall, her bedroom waits. Her bed waits, and the pounding behind her eyes feels like reason enough to take an early night.

With a sigh, still, she jerk the door open. She left the lights on, and the glare shining from the glossy cover of a textbook almost turns her back around. She stubbornly crosses the room and takes a seat at her desk.

The leather book waits for her, and she nearly flips it back open on impulse. She glances over at the stack of texts to her right, the slip of paper poking out of the first with a list of tasks.

She lifts the book, the rough cover feeling familiar under her fingertips. The cover doesn’t bear a title or an author, just the letters B.O.F. embossed across the front. She runs a finger over the initials, then the edge of the cover.

The trailing string on the bookmark knocks a pen from the desk, and she straightens up. Within moments, the book is hidden away in the desk drawer. She can read it later, when she’s gotten some work done.

Her work is much harder to get through than she may have hoped. Her headache slowly fades, but she can’t concentrate. Her thoughts keep circling back to Oxford, her friends, and the look on her mother’s face when they spoke in the family room.

That woman has been through enough.

She drops her pen on the desk and groans, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She’s been reading the same line over and over for the past—she can’t even see how long it’s been because she doesn’t have her phone!

You don’t need to know the time when you’re working. You’re done when the work is done.

She shakes her head in her hands, banishing her father’s words into the ether. He’s taken enough energy from her today.

It’s not fair.

She rises from the chair, every movement sticky and slow. Flicking the desk lamp off, she pads to the door, covering a yawn with the back of a hand. She only made it through two of the six readings due, and she still hasn’t touched the worksheets, but she has all of Sunday to get them done.

She barely registers the walk down the hall to her room. She doesn’t bother turning the lights on, merely kicking her shoes off on the way to the bed and falling face first onto the pillow. Her father will likely have words with her if he catches her sleeping in her clothes, but she doesn’t care.

[artificialqueens]

Life and Death {Biadore} Chapter 2 -C*NT

A/N: Hi all! It’s been a little since I’ve wrote, this is chapter 2 of Life and Death since people really wanted me to continue it! Again, this does not necessarily reflect upon my personal beliefs as far as religion goes, so please dont bite my head off for naming “the big guy” God. Enjoy this somewhat beefy chapter. No tws so thats always a plus. ❤️

They left the room, which Danny was relieved about because honestly he felt a little creeped out. Basically, the grim reaper was his soulmate, according to the device. Maybe he wont be so bad, he thought. But his nerves weren’t put at bay just yet, because Death led Danny into an equally as dreary hallway.

“Where are we?” Danny asked as he tried to study his surroundings. There was a sleek looking elevator at the end of the hall, which looked very out of place compared to the out of date decor on the walls. There were no windows to give any hint to where they were at either, Danny thought glumly. There was an old maroon paisley printed rug lining the length of the passageway, adorned with lamps decorated with red velvet lampshades at each end. They cast an ugly yellow light throughout the room, as if the lightbulbs were obnoxiously yellow on purpose. It even smelled old and musty, similar to the room they were just sitting in. He felt like he was back in the 1970’s.

“Limbo.” Death muttered as they made their way to the elevator. They pressed the button and the doors immediately opened, exposing a very plain but high tech elevator. Danny was rattled by how quickly the doors opened, and they stepped inside.

“So Limbo is real?” Danny asked. He had imagined Limbo would be similar to Earth, but instead it reminded him of a vintage motel. He felt like he was in a completely different era, and maybe that was the point. You weren’t supposed to feel clear abouf where you were in Limbo, all you were supposed to know was that you are somewhere in between Heaven and Hell.

“Yep.” Death pressed a large gold button that was clearly labeled ‘Heaven’, ultimately shutting the doors.

Danny’s heart raced as the elevator started shooting up towards Heaven. He was going to see Heaven, he realized with a surge of excitement. He wondered what it was going to be like, as he studied the large gold button curiously. He noticed there was also one for Earth. Then he realized the elevator had buttons for all sorts of different places, times, and dimensions. The last one in the long row of buttons was the biggest and most ominous looking of all, it was black and said ‘Hell’ in bright red letters. He shuddered at the thought of having to go down there. He hoped that wasn’t his final destination after all of this was said and done.

Death snorted to themself and Danny glared at them. He had about enough of Death’s antics. He was a know it all, literally and was not being sympathetic to how he was feeling and frankly it was pissing him off.

“You know, not everyone knows everything there is to know about the universe.” Danny snapped.

“Fair.” Death shrugged. “But Satan is literally just a big jokester. Even if you did end up in Hell, it wouldn’t be as terrible as you thought.”

“So would the same be said about Heaven?”

“You’re about to find out now, aren’t you?”

The doors opened, greeting them with a blinding white light. When Danny’s eyes adjusted, the first thing he noticed that he was rather underdressed. It was just as he pictured, almost everyone was dressed in long grecian looking gowns. Except no one had huge angel wings like he was always told about on Earth. His eyes were wide as he took in all of the sights. Everyone was drop dead gorgeous and looked incredibly happy. There were dogs, cats, small children, teenagers, people of every age group and color. Everyone smiled at them, he noticed they were directed more at Danny then Death.

The second thing he noticed was how beautiful Heaven really was. The sky was bright blue with small puffy white clouds decorating it, and a small brisk breeze, but nothing too chilly or too disturbing to be considered uncomfortable. There was a courtyard with the biggest fountain he had ever seen, made of big slabs of white marble with bright gold flakes decorating each tier. The water spurting out of it was a brilliant teal, the kind of crystal clear water you’d see in the caribbean. Brick paths weaved in and out of what appeared to be a town square, where there were shops and buildings of all shapes and sizes. There was every restaurant you could think of, and beyond that were houses that were all of different shapes and sizes. Some people’s version of their dream house was small and cozy, while others were grand with huge gardens and trees. It was incredible.

None of those houses compared to the big white mansion that was situated at the end of what appeared to be Main Street though. The word mansion was an understatement for what it was, but Danny didn’t know a bigger word to describe the building. Castle? Palace? Palace was probably more accurate, seeing as the building was so tall you couldn’t see the top of it. There were huge roman columns supporting it, rose gardens on either side of the yard, and the pathway near it seemed to sparkle - it was all solid gold bricks lining the road the closer they got to the palace.

Death smiled at Danny, who looked like a little kid in a candy store for the first time. Heaven was truly a beautiful place, especially for someone who had never seen it before. But they were here for answers, not to gawk. Death wanted to know once and for all whether or not this young man was truly his soulmate.

“Come on.” Death urged Danny and grabbed his hand. To Danny’s surprise, Death was incredibly warm and had very soft hands.

They made their way towards the palace at the end of the block and Death knocked lightly on the door. It was the biggest door Danny had ever seen, reaching so high up he couldn’t see the top of it.

“Don’t be nervous.” Death warned.

Danny nodded. This would be the first time he would be meeting “the big guy”. He hoped he wouldn’t damn him to hell.

The large doors finally opened slowly, and the big guy finally appeared; only he was not big at all. In fact, he just looked like an average guy to Danny as far as height went. However, it was very hard to look at him because he was so striking. He was how he had always pictured him, tan muscular and blonde with bright blue eyes. He had a glow of light around him, it was faint but it still hurt his eyes if he stared for too long. Danny fixated his eyes on the decorations around him to ensure he wouldnt harm his vision.

“Roy! I see you brought Daniel with you.” He smiled widely. His teeth were so white it was blinding.

Danny burst out laughing and if he could see Roy underneath his hood, he would’ve saw the literal death glare he was shooting him.

“Your real name is Roy? Why didn’t you tell me?” Danny grinned.

“That’s actually classified information, Daniel. No one knew his real name but me.” God stated.

“So wait, you’re a guy?” Danny asked Roy confused.

He looked at Roy and tried to determine if he could see some sort of manly shape, but the cloak hid his body well. It was useless, he wouldn’t know until he took it off.

“It’s complicated.” God admitted and stepped aside to let them in.

“So it’s true then.” Roy murmured.

“Roy, yes it’s true.” God rolled his eyes and Danny fought back a snicker.

“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you, Danny.” He shot him a serious look. His piercing blue eyes made his face go cold as he nodded his head in understanding.

“I’m sorry sir.” Danny stammered. When he was nervous, his natural reaction was to laugh things off. The fact that Roy being his soulmate was now confirmed, just made it even more nerve wracking. He knew Roy probably thought he was just an inexperienced fucktard for lack of a better word, so he didn’t know how well things were about to play out. His anxiety was through the roof, and being yelled at by God was not how he wanted to start the day out.

Roy chuckled, sticking his tongue out at the young man. God glared at him, and he cleared his throat loudly trying to ease the tense energy in the room.

“He can’t see you, idiot.” God grinned.

Danny looked between the two men confused and saw Roy visibly sigh.

“Roy, can you just take off your dang hood already? Danny already knows you’re his. Show him who he’ll be spending eternity with.”

Danny stared at Roy with suspense, realizing that he literally had no idea who his soulmate really was. He couldn’t even put a face to a name, just a black abyss underneath a dark cloak.

“Hang on. Why him? After all of this time being alone, why now?” Roy asked.

“Come.” God motioned.

They made their way over to the sofa in the corner of the living room, which was a small word for how grand the room really was. There was a large couch that was upholstered with a beautiful soft ivory suede, and a giant crystal chandelier hung above the fragile looking glass coffee table. A marble fireplace sat against the wall, the flames crackling loudly. Danny’s shoes squeaked against the marble floors as the three of them sat down.

It was the most comfortable couch Danny had ever sat on. He sank into it, resting his head against it as he listened to the two of them talk.

“Roy, you’ve been miserable and frankly, a pain in my rear if I do say so myself. Especially over the last millennium. I’ve been waiting for the right person for you to be ready, and finally he’s here. I think it’s time you retire.”

“He’s 24 years old. He’s a baby!”

“He’s also right here.” Danny waved his hand annoyed.

“I can’t retire, what am I supposed to do with my free time?”Roy said, ignoring Danny.

“Make out with me.” Danny winked.

“In your dreams, queen.” Roy scoffed.

Danny glared at him and crossed his arms, sliding even further away from Roy. At least he was trying to find something to like about him. Roy wasn’t even trying to be his friend, let alone accept that he was his soulmate.

“He’s also the complete opposite of you.” God interrupted the tense exchange. “You’re death; grim, sarcastic, and cold hearted - or so you claim. He’s your life: positive, upbeat, but you share similar qualities as well. You’ll see Roy.”

Roy rolled his eyes underneath his cloak and sighed. He looked over at Danny, who was actually pretty attractive for his age. His dark hair and light eyes really complemented his fair skin, however he still had a hispanic background like him. He supposed that was their only thing in common, despite so many years separating them.

Danny grew up in a time where it was okay to be a drag queen, and to dress as a woman, and be whoever it was that you wanted to be. Roy didn’t have that same experience. How were they supposed to find any common ground other then being physically attracted to each other?

Who was even to say that Danny would find him attractive to begin with?

“So it’s okay to be gay?” Danny blurted out.

God’s face changed from pure confusion to amusement before he bursted out into laughter. Roy laughed along, it was pretty sweet that he was asking all of these innocent questions.

“Yes, it’s fine.”

Roy facepalmed and Danny smiled excitedly.

“So I’m not going to hell?”

“No of course not. You lived a very nice life, and now you’ll live here with Roy and hopefully make him not as bitter.” God smirked.

“So who’s taking my job?” Roy asked annoyed, choosing to ignore the bitter comment.

“That is something for me to worry about, and me only. So, am I going to have to forcibly remove your hood, or are you going to take it off already?”

Roy hesitated. It looked as if he was shaking as he grabbed the edges of the dark fabric.

What if Danny found him unattractive? He didn’t know what his type was, and he would be crushed if his soulmate was disgusted by his appearance. Even if they hadn’t hit it off yet.

“Trust me, you don’t look like Death anymore. Especially to him.” God encouraged, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just- I’ve worn this garment for such a long time and have never taken it completely off. It’s throwing me for a loop here.” Roy hesitated.

God raised an eyebrow at him with a knowing look and Roy sighed.

Please don’t tell him, Roy thought.

God smiled sadly at him and nodded in understanding.

“Take your time. It doesn’t have to happen today.” Danny encouraged, breaking the silence.

Roy smiled at him sincerely, but then realized Danny couldn’t see him yet so it was useless. He sighed as his hands shook at the edge of the cloak, finally removing them from the hood and placing them by his sides again.

“You have to realize Daniel, that it has been many many many millennia since Roy has not worn a hood. This is a big deal for him.” God explained sternly.

Thank you, Roy thought. He was thankful he hadn’t given anything away about his insecurities. It may have seemed stupid to Danny for all he knew.

Danny nodded in understanding, and then pondered over whether or not he should ask what he had been wondering about. He had a lot of questions.

“What is it Danny?” God asked curiously.

Danny bit his lip nervously and clasped his hands together.

“So since Roy is my soulmate, and that was my last wish to find out who exactly that was; what happens now?”

“Well, you were actually supposed to be reincarnated again-”

“Again?” Danny asked dumbfounded.

“Yes again. You see, you had been reincarnated over many, many, many millenniums in order for me to make Roy the perfect soulmate. I had to have you go through many different lives to shape who you died as this time.” God beamed and then shot a look at Roy. “So even though you are 24 in your final stage Daniel, you are actually only a few years younger than Roy. Not that age matters, and anyway time is something created by humans; but that’s a completely different discussion that you will have plenty of time to engage in.”

This was a lot for Danny to wrap his head around. Reincarnation, soulmates, being gay was okay, the fact that he was many millenniums old and not just 24. He had so much on his mind, and didn’t even know where to begin asking anymore questions. He was utterly overwhelmed.

“Now, I’m sensing Roy would like to remove his cloak in private, and I need to get back to work so I’m afraid I’m going to have to dismiss you two. I have a feeling you’ll like what you see underneath it Danny. I’ve set up your dream house near the edge of town, by a river for Roy and big and eccentric for Daniel.” God snapped his fingers and two shiny gold skeleton keys appeared in their hands. “Those are your keys. It is literally impossible to lose them, as they will always find a way into your pockets when you change or what not. So enjoy. I’ll walk you out.”

God walked them to the front steps, and Danny noticed he heard a clicking sound as they walked across the marble floor. He looked down at God’s feet and realized it wasn’t his shoes, as he was barefoot. Danny was decked out in his black converse so it definitely wasn’t him. The sound was distinctive, and oddly familiar.

It was the final click before they hit the outdoors that made him realize it could only be one thing.

“Are you wearing heels?” Danny asked Roy incredulously. How had he not noticed that before?

God chuckled as he opened the large billowing doors for them.

“Like I said, you have more in common then you realize. Enjoy your time together. And for the last time Roy, this is not a prank!” God groaned.

“Thank you sir.” Danny said, and then hesitating. “Um, can I hug you?”

God snickered and brought Danny in for a squeeze.

“You are such a delight! Oh Roy you are in for a treat. Daniel, if you have any questions about anything please know that my doors are always open.” God said. “By the way Roy, since you are no longer the reaper, you won’t be able to read minds. You’ll have to learn about Daniel the old fashioned way. Anyway, I must go now, so farewell!”

Danny heard the doors close behind them and both men sighed in unison. Now Danny had to walk to his new home, where he would be spending eternity with someone who didn’t even want to be his soulmate.

They walked in silence back through the town square, lost in their thoughts and started towards the edge of town. Danny was admiring all of the scenery and people, some in regular clothes he noticed, others in the grecian gowns that he had seen when they first arrived. That was a good sign, he could wear whatever he desired.

“Which one do you think is ours?” Danny asked, as Roy’s heels clicked on the brick road. He never realized it, but Roy walked very elegantly; almost in a regal manner.

“I don’t know, I haven’t lived in a house in a very long time so I have no idea what we’re even looking for.” Roy shrugged.

“Where did you live as the reaper?”

“Remember Limbo?” Roy asked dryly.

“Ew you lived in that musty ass apartment?” Danny asked. He then clasped his hands over his mouth and looked around frantically. “Oh no, I wasn’t supposed to say that, I’m so sorry please don’t deport me!”

Roy cackled with laughter, his laugh so high pitched that Danny jumped; but then he laughed along with him in amusement. Roys laugh was very melodic, in a way that he hadn’t noticed before. It was actually pretty cute.

“You’re not going to get deported! Just don’t curse in front of God.”

Danny sighed in relief and realized they had reached the end of the road. He got a warm feeling in his stomach, as if he was close to home.

“There.” Roy breathed.

Nestled at the top of a small hill, was their house. It was an off white color, victorian style with a wrap around porch. There was bright pink trim around the roof, a porch swing and a blue mandala tapestry on one side of to shield the bright sun from reaching the patio. The door was painted a bright mustard yellow color, and the windows were all brand new, but still looked vintage enough to match the style of the house. Wildflowers surrounded it, in splashes of purple, orange, blue and red, and there was a field of sunflowers on one side of the house of all different colors. A river sparkled a few feet in front of it, with crystal clear water and what appeared to be a brand new wooden dock.

They were speechless, and didn’t even realize they had grabbed each other’s hands as they stared at their forever home.

“You know I don’t hate you right?” Roy finally said, rubbing his fingers over Danny’s hand. He was so warm, it was comforting. Very different than what Roy was used to.

“I know I’m not what you envisioned but at least give me a chance.” Danny snapped.

“Oh, no it’s not that. You are very attractive.” Roy stammered. “It’s just - I’ve been alone for so long, I don’t know how to do this whole soulmate thing yet. Just give me time please?”

Danny felt his cheeks warming up at the tender words. He hadn’t known him very long, but he could tell he wasn’t a very emotional person so it probably took a lot for him to say that.

“We have all the time in the world.” Danny murmured.

He knew Danny couldn’t see him, but he was losing himself in his green eyes. They were so bright and happy, he could stare into them for all eternity.

On the other hand, Danny felt himself drawing closer to Roy as he stared into the dark abyss underneath his hood trying to find the hint of his face. He didn’t know what it was, but he just wanted to be close to him in this moment. He put one arm around his shoulder and sort of side hugged him, throwing the other arm across his stomach.

Roy sighed into the touch and felt himself squeezing back. This felt like home, something he hadn’t known in a very long time.

They held each other for a few minutes as they gazed at the house, taking in the experience, and enjoying each other’s warmth.

What broke them out of their trance was a small meow and a shy bark.

The two men looked down, and Danny squealed in delight. A small golden chihuahua and an orange cat with black stripes had greeted them. The cat rubbed against Danny and meowed again, and the dog woofed at Roy as they stared incredulously at the ground.

“We have pets!” Danny exclaimed, picking up the cat with delight and holding it close.

“Hi Angel, aren’t you just the cutest.” Roy cooed to the small dog. Dogs were his weakness, and Danny giggled at the invulnerability that he was showing for the first time.

“That should be his name. Angel!” Danny grinned.

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Roy challenged.

Danny shrugged. “Dunno. Because you act macho, so I’d assume you’d end up with an equally as macho pet, so obviously it’d have to be a boy.”

Roy scoffed and picked up the dog flipping it over to see if it was a girl or a boy.

“Ugh, you’re right.” Roy groaned. Danny squealed and picked up his new cat.

“I’m gonna name you Halloween, Weenie for short.” Danny cuddled Weenie close to him and set the cat down on the ground. He untied his black converse and held them by the laces in one hand, as he felt the soft grass inbetween his toes for the first time. The air was fragrant with the scent of wildflowers, and he sighed as he looked at his new home from the top of the knoll one last time.

“Let’s go!” Danny exclaimed as he started running down the hill.

Roy watched the young man run and jump down the hill as the sun illuminated his pale skin. He had to admit, he was pretty cute in an innocent sort of way. He could feel himself start to grow fond of Danny, and how happy and positive of a person he was. He could tell that Danny was a hippie, enjoying every moment in nature that he could as he ran through the grass barefoot.

He sighed in relief as he realized he would no longer be escorting sick and confused humans and animals from earth to either heaven, hell, or limbo. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all of this free time that he now had. He didn’t know anything other than what he had been doing for the last part of the millenia.

How did God expect him to just fall in love with Danny like it was nothing? He was the complete opposite of everything he thought he’d have in a soulmate. Danny was rambunkshus, ditzy, and completely over the top. He had named his cat Weenie, for fucks sake.

Roy had been under the impression that he would be paired off with a man of sophistication.

But that would just be too easy, he thought.

He gazed down at his soulmate, who was stomping around the porch of their house, grinning and pointing at the front door excitedly to Halloween.

Roy had decided he refused to call the cat Weenie. Why name the cat a badass name like Halloween, and then ruin it with something as stupid as Weenie?

“Oh my god I love this!” Danny exclaimed, as he sat back on the porch swing, kicking his bare feet up excitedly.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad Angel.” Roy smiled and picked up his new dog, following after Danny

[takemetohelena]

Luis

Exchanged secrets with an eight year old boy last night. I told him i like that good looking psycho killer in our play and he told me that he punched some other kid and got away with it. 

 It happened when we were waiting for Anthony while eating mangga sa terrace. When i said I like Anthony, he was like "talaga ate?? Mabait yun si kuya anthony kanina pinahiram nya sakin yung phone nya para mag games ako, talaga crush mo sya? Yieeee" Ang cute nya at ang inosente nya huhu, he was very huggable too. 

 When anthony arrived at ate che’s house, tumakbo sya papunta kay anthony. Medyo kinabahan ako kasi akala ko sasabihin nya hahaha pero bumalik sya sakin and said "Oo nga gwapo sya ate" I was all smile because nacucute-an ako sa bata and kinikilig ako hahaha. I feel like may connection na kami hahaha. There were times na the kid will look at Anthony then me tapos he'll smile and I will "shhhh", I dont know if Anthony noticed pero it doesn't matter kasi wala naman syang pake hahahaha. 

Ate cherry told us (me and luis) to buy bigas for the group's dinner so off we go, while walking he started story telling that while he was out alone, hinarang sya ng apat na bata tapos sinuntok nya ung dalawa tapos nakatakbo daw ung dalawa, I dont know if it's true but syempre I was very attentive hahaha. Sabi nya "ate wag mong sasabihin kay mommy ko ah, hindi nya na ako papayagan lumabas" I told him okay basta secret din natin yung secret ko hahahaha. He said "deal! Wala tayong sasabihan ng secret nating dalawa" hahaha. 

I know i'm never gonna see that kid again because tapos na yung shooting namin and soon matatapos na rin yung summer class, I hope i dont forget his face and he'll remember me too pero i doubt hahahaha. I'm happy i met him kahit saglit lang, my heart melted with his innocence and mabait sya huhu. He asked me din pala, "nung bata ka ba ate naisip mong maglayas?" hindi ko alam kung sasabihin ko ung totoo kasi bata sya hahaha kaya i said "why? Naiisip mo bang maglayas" he said yes because natatakot daw sya sa house nila hahaha i told him "pag lalayas ka dapat isama mo si mommy, daddy, hailey at heather" he said "nge" then we laughed. 

Sad lang I didnt get to say bye to him when we left baka tulog na sya nun. Luis, I hope you'll always have that part of you, yung child side mo and I hope we remember each other when we cross paths somewhere hahaha. Basta dont tell anyone that i like kuya anthony ha, promise i wont tell anyone about your secret too, si tumblr lang hahahaha. Till we meet again Luis! ❤️