Okay so, stupid tired idea, WTTT Harry Potter AU. I know it's dumb BUT think about it, either they are still states and for some reason in the UK or they are like "normal" kids but they aren't normal at all.
I think though it would really only make sense to be the OG13 but maybe some others as well? I'm not really too sure but I do have a house list that I made ages ago.
Hogwarts Houses
New Jersey: Hufflepuff
New York: Gryffindor
New Hampshire: Gryffindor
Maine: Hufflepuff
Massachusetts: Slytherin
Vermont: Slytherin
Virginia: Ravenclaw
Connecticut: Ravenclaw
Pennsylvania: Gryffindor
Georgia: Hufflepuff
Florida: Slytherin
Louisiana: Ravenclaw
North Carolina: Slytherin
South Carolina: Gryffindor
Maryland: Hufflepuff
Delaware: Slytherin
Rhode Island: Gryffindor
I don't know, maybe it needs some work with these guys to make a bit more sense, pretty curious what others would think the states houses would be.
Like I know no idea why they would be going to Hogwarts but it would be funny for like 17 vaguely american students to just show up. Don't even ask me what their years would all be because I have no idea, that's up to y'all.
1 note
·
View note
tim and bernard who break up and it's nothing big, no one cheated or anything. it's just their lifestyles didn't work out well together. tim cannot give up vigilantism currently and bear cannot handle the level of danger tim puts himself in. and on the other hand, tim cannot handle the fact that bear chooses to run into danger as an emt bc he already worries about everything but now he has to worry if he'll find his boyfriend convulsing from fear gas in a random alley but also bear who felt the life drain out of darla cannot stand the thought of not helping people and runs headfirst into dangerous situation after dangerous situation hoping that every person he saves can somehow make up for the fact that he could not save darla.
(he very pointedly does not think about the fact that there was nothing he could do because if he thinks about that, he'll spiral until they have to lock him in arkham too)
and so they break up but they were tim & bernard in high school and when they started dating they balanced out the worst of each other and they became tim&bernard. and everyone who knows them, knows that they're better together but they cant be together, they refuse actually because they cannot lose another person to the violence of gotham and by the time they figure out that they cant work together as long as the other is an emt or vigilante, it's too late for both them. they've already left too many pieces of themselves in each other.
tim still knows what bear means when he says "tim" in that exasperated voice. tim still goes boneless when he hears bear say "baby" in that firm tone. bear can still read tim like a book. he still knows the right way to massage tim's neck so that tim can go to sleep. everyone at the first responders gala knows not to bother ceo drake-wayne and senior emt dowd when they're talking.
(and if they're standing a little too close to each other than what is normal, who are they to judge? everyone knows that dowd and drake-wayne have history)
and if everyone on the night shift has caught red robin with his head tucked into the crook of emt dowd's neck as emt dowd runs a soothing hand up and down the vigilante's back, well then, they just quietly back away.
(after all, dowd's one of like, five, emts that can get the bats to receive medical treatment so if turning a blind eye to whatever the fuck they have going on is what allows them to give back to their heroes, then the night shift will do it every time)
and of course, tim and bear are practical people. they loved (love) each other sure, but when your lives are fundamentally incompatible, well, you cant get too stuck on the what-ifs, that's for sure. and so they do find love with other people and yeah, maybe it's not what they expected love to be when they first fell in love with each other. it's not the bubbly, stomach-swoopy, cant stop grinning, feeling that permeated tim&bernard's early days or the i Know you/you Know me that was their middle or the quiet despair that was their end but it is contentment. and in a life with as many losses as theirs, contentment is something they hold dearly
and they're happy! truly! but sometimes, at galas when they're making each other snort champagne out their noses or in darkened alleyways when their clothes are both stained with blood or at rallies for stricter gun regulations in gotham where they both sit too close to each other, fingers enclosed around each other in a death grip, when the presenters inevitably bring up grieves
(worst school shooting in gotham in decades, there's blood on their hands and blood in their mouths and darla is dead in between both of them and there is a chasm so wide that they are screaming to get their voices across and she will always be dead and maybe this had always been the problem that she is dead and there is no coming back from that and that there is blood on their hands and blood in their mouth and blood on their han-)
but sometimes, most especially on opposite sides of the street, as life pulls them in different directions, just sometimes, they see each other and just for a second, nothing too long, the flap of a hummingbird's wings, the time it takes to blink, an electron's orbital, they look at each other and for the briefest moment, blue on brown, a barely noticeable stutter in their steps, the space between heartbeats, because this is all they will give themselves because they do not dwell on what-ifs or what-could-have-beens, or what-should-have-beens, or delusions of a softer world, their eyes meet and they think to themselves, god, in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with him.
135 notes
·
View notes
“I don’t need you.”
It sounded less grounded than the villain had wanted it to. It sounded like something someone had told them to say, and they were just repeating it with half hearted determination. They said it again, “I don’t need you.”
“No,” the hero agreed. They were grinning. “You don’t.”
The villain floundered. They, in all honesty, wanted a fight. To prove something, they supposed. That they really didn’t need the hero. That they weren’t in the wrong, here. “What?”
“I said,” the hero said slowly, and the beginnings of a grin curled at the edges of their mouth. “You don’t need me.”
“I don’t need you,” the villain repeated, and the hero nodded encouragingly. It just made the villain want to hit them.
The hero lounged against the doorframe, halfway in and halfway out of their apartment. And truly, that was the worst bit of it all—the hero wasn’t showing up outside the villain’s house, or driving by the villain’s work to see if they truly looked happier without them. But the villain was.
They wanted to scream, and kick, and throw plates onto the ground.
‘Leave me alone.’
But they couldn’t say that, because the hero had. They had cut contact and blocked numbers and ignored the villain’s car as it went by. Still, the villain felt haunted. As if they would never be clean of the hero, parts of their soul forever dirtied by it all.
The hero’s smile, and the way their voice sounded when they knew the villain would cave to their wishes.
They just wanted the hero to—
“Leave me alone.” It slipped out against their better judgement. From the way the hero’s grin widened, they knew it had been the worst thing they could have said.
“Darling, I have,” the hero said, their tone saccharine. Pitying. “You’re the one outside of my apartment.”
It felt like being burned alive, the frustration of it. The way it rose in their chest but had nowhere to go, leaving them shaking with nothing and everything trapped under their tongue.
“That’s not what I meant and you know that—“
“What, you miss me that bad? I thought you—“
“Shut up,” the villain snapped. The hero raised an eyebrow.
“It’s eating you alive, isn’t it?” They sounded pleased.
“It’s not,” the villain protested.
“I told you, you don’t need me.”
“I know,” the villain grit out.
“But you want me.”
Something in the villain’s brain stalled.
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t need me. You never have,” the hero said it like it was a fact. “You want me, though. Even as the sound of my name burns you, and the memory of me rots in your mouth, you’re going to want me.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” The hero’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You can go out to every bar in this city, kiss a hundred people who look like me and get just drunk enough to forget you’re not mine anymore—but you’re never going to stop missing me.”
The hero knew, of course they did, how hard the villain had tried to forget it entirely. The disaster they had become trying to be clean again.
“No matter how many shots you take to block out the memory of me, you’ll always be mine.”
“You’re insane,” the villain finally managed. The hero simply tipped their head to the side in acknowledgement. “That’s not-what’s wrong with you—“
“You’re the one who misses me.”
It stung, deep in the villain’s stomach. It took them too long to remember how to breathe—too long after that to think of what to say.
“If I’m lucky, I won’t ever have to see you again,” their voice quivered, slightly. “But knowing us, the next time we meet it will be in hell.”
The hero laughed and closed the door in their face.
The villain blocked them. Avoided the side of town the worked in. Moved three cities over.
It didn’t matter.
The villain could still feel the hero under their skin.
Later, whenever someone would ask, “Have you ever been haunted?”
The villain would think back to the hero.
And say, “Yes.”
72 notes
·
View notes