#like what cop has he ever liked or been close that died? even his parents are alive when hes in his 20s

[slowdancer]

atsv is trying to deconstruct the idea of a heroes backstory and i do love them challenging the idea presented of canon events and those specifically being the death of someone close to spiderman in part because the idea that a person’s sole purpose is to die to allow spiderman to become a hero is not only grim but fucking insane, and has some weird little implications. however! i don’t necessarily think Miguel was the right guy to present this point lmao like his origin story is built to be different from Peter’s and his entire run is him seeing spiderman as a burden he doesn’t want to be carrying so him acting like the authority on what constitutes as a “canon event” or even believing in that theory makes absolutely no sense?

[ilovetheoutsiders2much]

This post is introducing The Outsiders.

So i’ll name them and put their picture and their personality. Greasers only. SPOILERS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE SPOILERS DON’T READ!!!! This is for my post I’ll be posting soon! Maybe in a couple weeks. It’s been taking me forever.

Sodapop/Soda Curtis- He dropped out of school to work for his brothers. He kind of took over as one of the parents because his parents died in a car crash. He doesn’t sm*ke unless something is bugging him or he has a rough day. He’s always working to support their family and their group. He’s a funny person. Steve is his closest friend throughout the whole group. Sadly girls only want him for his looks. He hates when he gets tied up into Darry and ponyboys fights it always stresses him out. He grew up not really knowing his parents.

———————————————————————

Darry/Darrel Curtis- He is the legal guardian of Ponyboy since their parents died. He is definitely like a parent to the whole group of greasers. He’s always making sure everyone is okay. He always worry’s he’s gonna fail at being a parent to Ponyboy. He always try’s to make sure everyone will be okay. He is a really sweet guy to his close ones. He HATES the color yellow with all of his heart. He isn’t the type to show how he’s feeling if any of his emotions. Ponyboy and him fight most of the time but he loves ponyboy and is always trying to look out for him.

———————————————————————

Ponyboy/Pony Curtis- He is the “Kid” in the family. Him and Soda grew up not really knowing their parents. He doesn’t like to hurt anyone. He got beat up and hurt badly the beginning of the story/movie by the socs. He is a nice boy. His closest friend is Johnny throughout the whole group. His hair is the only way he truly feels like he’s apart of the greasers. When he ran away with Johnny he spent all his time with Johnny and when he spent time with him Johnny bought him a book and he was the happiest boy ever. He spent each night by Johnny’s side. When Johnny died he went crazy and he had a concussion from the rumble so he wouldn’t eat forever because everything tasted like bologna to him because when they ran away that’s all they had to eat and he hated it.

———————————————————————

Dally/Dallas Winston- He is a tough guy. He is always starting trouble with someone or doing something bad. He loves Johnny but won’t admit it. Johnny is basically his best friend. After Johnny died he went crazy and he robbed a store. He threatened the cops with a gun and then he ran out of the store. He had the cops after him so he used one of the phones in the streets to call Darry and tell him to hurry. Once everyone got there he was surrounded by the police and the group. He pointed the gun at the police and they shot Dally. Steve was scared to even be there because he was afraid he would be in trouble and he had his hands up. Darry and pony were crying and screaming. The rest were so upset and basically flabbergasted. But i’ve seen almost everywhere that Dally said “Pony” before he got shot because he realized he loved Pony just as much as he loved Johnny but he just didn’t hear it. But Pony loved Dally so much but he never showed it.

———————————————————————

Johnny Cade- Ponyboy is his best friend. He is always there for Ponyboy. He’s basically just the “Pet” of the group. But Ponyboy sees him more than a “Pet” he sees him as his closest person ever. Johnny is also close with Dally. Before Johnny died he told Pony to “Stay Gold” because a poem that Pony liked was “Stay Gold” Pony didn’t know what it meant. But before Johnny died he figured out that it meant “Stay young and Stay innocent. It meant when your younger everything is vibrant and new and your innocent. but as you get older you lose the color and it doesn’t last long.” Johnny always wanted to die but when he was dying he didn’t want to die. He didn’t think 16 years was long enough.

———————————————————————

Two-Bit Matthew’s- He is a pretty strong guy. He seems to be pretty hyper. Hes close with everyone just in general. He’s not scared to hurt someone. He sticks up for his group. He dosent show much emotion the only emotion he really shows is happiness. He is obsessed with Mickey Mouse. He’s always wearing his go-to Mickey Mouse shirt. If that shirt is dirty he will wear his orange one. He is really smart. He laughs at his own jokes all the time no matter if they’re funny or not. He dosent like kids but he’s still good with them. His hair is always greasy no matter what you will never see him without greasy hair. He likes Leather jackets a lot.

———————————————————————

Steve Randle- He is always bragging about something no matter what. He’s closest with Sodapop. He is very respectful to girls/women of any age. He’s scared of birds… No matter what he’s getting into a fight. He likes girls with Ginger hair but he can’t find any where he lives. Honestly if you asked him he would probably teach you how to work on cars. He likes flexing to people. He is always making something for them to eat and he’s always trying out new dishes. (I don’t really know much about him.)

———————————————————————

That’s all the greasers. <3

[saibug1022]

Ranking My MCs on How Likely They Would Be Adopted by Batman

Not a single person has ever asked for this. However, I have seen so much batfam stuff on my dash it's been living rent free

Val Ebony (ILITW) If you told me Val moved to Gotham and was a vigilante for a few years and then moved back right before ILITW I think I would believe you. This man has the whole package: dark hair (his hair is brown underneath all the dye), tragic backstory, shitty parents, even shittier bio dad who's also a villain, homicidal rage, he even died! But overall what got him to the top is just because of how well he fits with the Gotham and the Bats' vibes and aesthetics. Like it just feels right.

Eros Blackwell (Immortal Desires) Batman would have showed up in Crimson Beech to try to recruit Eros only for Eros to explain they do in fact still have a mom *who is on thin ice with me rn). However. They still get REALLY close, especially when they find out Gotham is on a ley line. I'm tempted to say Eros, Cas, and Gabe fuck off to Gotham after ID 2

August Rose (Crimes of Passion) So August's backstory is that they grow up most likely without their mom, and then their dad is mysteriously murdered. August tries to solve it themself but fails and instead becomes a detective to solve other crimes and hopefully find justice for other people. They're gruff, badass, and too damn clever. They were definitely Robin. Hell they could be Batman for all we know and it just wasn't mentioned in CoP

Magnus Bishop (Laws of Attraction/Into the Windverse) While slightly less likely only because he becomes a lawyer instead of some sort of detective or hero. However, he absolutely has the potential. His parents were murdered when he was young, he was tormented at school and betrayed by his friends, he was neglected by his foster mother and separated from his sister, all before he turns 18. He even gets super powers eventually. He has the determination, the ambition, and hell the whole reason he became a lawyer was to defend people from the systems that beat him down his whole life.

Asterin Nightbloom (BOLAS) I mean Asterin is pretty obvious, he's like the quintessential hero. Dead parents (twice), super skilled, heart of gold, etc etc. He's practically born to be a hero and I think he'd be such a good bat. Maybe not a Robin unless it's just for a few years before becoming his own hero

Leon Vance (It Lives Beneath) The main reason Leon is so high up is because he is so fucking capable. That's what the bats are known for among other heros. And of course there's his classic bat backstory. He's a badass, he unearths a CULT, has a cool and unique signature weapon, forms his own team and even has a super hero suit. Best part, he looks good the whole time.

Damian Stone (Murder at Homecoming) There's the obvious stuff like being a genius, a detective, unsolved mystery haunting the narrative, solving a murder, looking good doing it, socially awkward, etc etc, but I also have to add that I literally named them after Damian Wayne. In fact their name was originally gonna be Tim after Time Drake but Damian sounded better. However, they do suffer in the rankings seeing as they have both of their parents, both of which are also very good parents.

Callum Wayland (Hero) Listen, Callum would be a great DC hero but in terms of Batman relations I don't think he'd be adopted. Unfortunately for him the Super Family parallels are just too hard to ignore. However I could see him being a Bat's emotional support Super so they'd see each other a lot and I think Bruce would be begrudgingly fond of him when he finds out Callum punched a corrupt rich guy into the stratosphere.

Castor Athantis (It Lives Within) Castor has all the makings of a PHENOMENAL DC superhero but again I just don't see them as a bat. They have too much of a mystical connection. They're more likely to run ith someone like Constantine. I'm sure they'd be associated, I could definitely see Castor joining Justice League Dark, but that's it

Emrys (The Cursed Heart) Emrys will fight for people but it's not something they're really going to pursue. They have the backstory for it, don't get me wrong, but going out and punching bad guys just isn't really their thing. In a modern au they might be some sort of friend of Bruce's and a Batman ally but they wouldn't be a hero.

Julian Athantis (It Lives Within) Julian is just as good a candidate as Castor, down to mystical powers. But Julian would only be a hero to help Castor, if he was one at all. He just wouldn't have his heart in it. He'd show up, help other heroes, and I could definitely see his and Lincoln's apartment being open to be used as a safe house, but he just doesn't want to be a hero. Not as in he's just not interested, more as in he actively does not want to be a hero.

Taylor McKenzie (Endless Summer) Taylor is in a similar boat as Julian where he doesn't really want to be a hero. He'll show up to big planet-threatening shit but otherwise he just wants to go to college and love his friends and husband. I could see the Justice League, Batman especially, keeping tabs on him so they'd know each other but that's about it. More likely Taylor would just go create problems for Dr. Fate when he's bored and then go back to minding his business.

Apollo Solaris (The Elementalists) Apollo really fits the hero archetype. However. I think if he stepped foot in Gotham city he'd explode. Or maybe Gotham would. They just clash so severely that even if he did meet Batman for whatever reason they'd hate each other.

Mattheo Lazarin (Bloodbound) Listen. Mattheo has enough on his plate being the Bloodkeeper and dealing with vampire shit. He doesn't have time to care or be a hero.

[raggedy-albert]

Ooh what are the headcanons you mentioned

ok i have so so many but we’ll start with my favorite albert ones

He is part Portuguese and part Brazilian

He has freckles and always is covered with dirt and a smattering of bruises. He’s a redhead with hair that sort of looks like a bird that’s spiky, thick, and always slicked back. He’s very buff and likes to show it off. He’s not short (most other newsies are just tall), but he has a compact vibe to him. His face is very expressive, especially his eyes brows. He has light brown eyes. His skin is a very light brown and his face is heart shaped.

When he ran away from home after his brother died and after he started to become more angry and bigger, the Brooklyn newsies (they knew his brother, and it was the closest borough) took him in (which is where he met Spot, though he wasn’t leader of the Brookies yet. They weren’t really close though, they just knew that each other existed). The Brookies gave him a nickname (Red) and he became really close friends with someone, another newsie who was around his dead brother’s age. The newsie didn't have any friends but he had been with the Brooklyn newsies for a while, and Albert didn’t have any friends there so he thought it was a perfect match. The newsie would only call Al by his nickname, which he didn’t really like but the newsie told him it made him sound cooler, and he figured it was a way to disconnect from his past life. That newsie and him became brothers (“replacing” the brother he lost) but Albert didn’t realize how toxic and controlling he was. They went everywhere together and they sold together and were inseparable, but one day his “friend” got in trouble with the cops and was going to be sent to the Refuge so he blamed it all on Albert and got away with no punishment, while Albert got sent away instead. His short time there changed him, he has a few physical scars from the abuse (he hates others seeing them), but most of them are mental. He got extremely protective of others, which is where he first adopted the older brother mindset, but he also started getting nightmares as well as sleep issues and his mental health plummeted. He also became really jumpy, and he got much quieter, though before he was outgoing, loud, and rebellious. After he got out he always tries to give whatever extra food or little money he has to Specs to give to the kids he left behind, who he thinks about often. Ever since this, he swore off nicknames. He is still friends with a few of the Brookies, but he doesn’t like to see them too often since it’s hard for him because it reminds him of the newsies who betrayed him and his brother.

He’s actually pretty smart but didn’t get a school education since he started working so young. One of the Brooklyn newsies taught him the basics of how to read, which he used to tell the other newsies the headline or just to entertain himself. He’s sort of a smart dummy though, and it’s more street smarts than intelligence.

He used to mostly live at his house but ever since both of his brothers moved out his father became more violent due to there not being anyone to protect him anymore, he lives in the lodging house most of the time. Sometimes he randomly shows up late at night with bruises and doesn’t say anything about why. The other newsies just accept that he sometimes shows up and needs a place for the night. He has his own designated bed there (the bunk under Race’s).

Before his mom died, he wasn’t really close with her. He mostly spent time with his dad. Even if they didn’t really talk, they just got along and sat in comfortable silence together. It’s not like he disliked his mom or anything, they just weren’t close and it was sort of awkward whenever they would interact. After she died though, his dad completely changed. He got angry. It was like he had lost two parents, not one.

He talks loudly and slightly “off” because a) he’s hard of hearing, and b) he was born in Brooklyn, but switched to Manhattan at a relatively young age, so he talks in a combination of both. He also uses a lot of slang so he’s hard to understand (Race is the interpreter). Also his parents both had accents so…

[anotherisodope]

Just found out that we dodged a huge bullet

You ever have a friend who just completely derails your life with their drama every time you run into, talk to or even hear about them?

Got one like that. We’ve been trying to help him for months in a Movie of the Week level family drama situation that has, along with some other stuff, totally eaten my life. And now, things have gone from bad to cartoonishly awful, in one night.

(Now edited for clarity. I shouldn’t write when I’m that pissed off, sorry!)

The Cast

Me: Gold medalist in competitive napping

My man: Has lived with me almost two decades, there’s rings involved, you get the idea

Gonk: A formerly close friend of ours who is making himself less close with every damn day that goes by as he slowly transitions from a cinnamon roll to an ego-burdened military douche. Calling him Gonk because he increasingly, stubbornly, refuses to listen to even basic common sense if it gets in the way of what he wants to do

GFF: Gonk’s friend who has been putting him up until Gonk starts Basic Training in another state

Evil Sister: Gonk’s sister, a raging assclown whom I sometimes call the Wicked Bitch of the East--with good reason

Our friend Gonk is the sort who never, ever, EVER contacts us unless he needs something, and he’s caused all kinds of disruption, but we’ve stayed loyal as hell and supported him. I was even going to move this guy into my house before he torpedoed that plan with a set of Bad Life Decisions. (Long story I’ll cover later).

Bit of backstory. Gonk has a very bad relationship with his sister, who is a far, far bigger asshole than he’s ever dreamed of being. Evil Sister was left the house and their parents’ whole estate after their mom died (so our friend wouldn’t lose his disability benefits), and promised to “look after” Gonk to his mom’s face. Once Mom died, Evil Sister promptly started proceedings for kicking Gonk out, and turned abusive in the meantime.

One thing she’s done is weaponize the police against Gonk every time she gets mad at him, meaning she calls them on him and tries to get him imprisoned over issues he can’t even be arrested for. Argument? Call the cops. He swore while playing video games? Cops. He had a meltdown from her verbal abuse and started yelling and crying? Cops. I’m actually surprised they still come out at this point.

We’ve explained to Gonk, as have the police, that what Evil Sister is doing is a form of abuse, isn’t appropriate use of law enforcement, and wastes police time and resources as well. Gonk’s seen it, he’s felt it, he’s been told multiple times: weaponizing the police so you can hurt someone you’re mad at (especially over petty shit) is really, really wrong.

So Gonk has been staying with another friend, GFF, for a few weeks before he starts Basic Training (a whole other awful story), basically to get away from the Wicked Bitch of the East. It was a huge act of generosity on GFF’s part, and a relief for Gonk, us, and everyone who cares about Gonk. At least...until yesterday.

Last night, everything blew up very suddenly. GFF kicked Gonk out and threatened to harm him if he came back. Why?

Because Gonk decided to call the cops on poor GFF, in GFF’s own home, IN AN ARGUMENT OVER WHO OWNED A FUCKING PACK OF CIGARETTES.

That’s right. Gonk, the guy who had the police inappropriately called on him over small shit multiple times, and is in the best possible position to know how wrong that is...turned around and did it to someone else. Someone he was depending on for shelter.

The cops kicked in the door, GFF’s dog escaped and vanished, and needless to say GFF is absolutely furious. He wants nothing further to do with Gonk and will probably kick his ass, or worse, if that hypocritical dumbass tries to come back. In fact, he’s already threatened to do so.

Gonk has nothing to say for himself. He is back with Evil Sister now, for the moment. I’m just praying he doesn’t show up on our doorstep again, because this has destroyed the last of our trust in him--which thanks to other crap was already badly damaged.

I am SO goddamned glad now that Gonk didn’t end up living with us. I don’t want anyone in my life who calls the cops on innocent people he’s supposed to care about, over petty shit. Of all people, Gonk should know better. But he got big mad and tossed friendship, common sense and decency out the window over an under $20 purchase instead. Nothing GFF did for him mattered to Gonk--not even opening up his home.

That could easily have been us. And I don’t want to give Gonk the chance to make it be us. Before now, I was worried about his safety, but this is the last straw. Now I just want him to leave town for his training and never come back.

[woodsfae]

Babylon 5 s02e06 Spider in the Web

s02 Table of Contents • previous episode

Ooooo Talia’s in this, so I expect some longing, heated glances! This dream that Mr Isogi is willing to see drenched in blood just for FutureCorps’ chances must be wild.

It’s never a good sign when a pair of lips tells a robotic voice to commence operations. And an ominous, be-ringed hand appears to prove me right. “All components have arrived,” so it can’t be just the ominous hand.

Mr Isogi and Talia seem to be good friends! I’m glad to see her with positive social bonds. She and the telepath on Mars that she contacted about Garibaldi’s ex also seemed to be on good terms, so it’s clear that she’s a friendly person, it just doesn’t seem like she’s particularly close to anyone on B5 right now. No close friends living there. I want for Talia to get a field trip with Lennier. If his mental vibes are as copacetic as his general vibes, then it’d be good for her. 

To be honest, 90% of my appreciation so far for Sheridan is how much Susan Ivanova seems to be delighted to have a good friend who’s she’s served under before be the new Captain of Babylon 5. I like him on her behalf. All that to say, he’s continuing his good impression on me by sharing Agamemnon stories. First Contact! A ship that looks like a cloud, interstellar tag, and diplomacy!

Lightning Hands! But Mr Isogi also supports an independent Mars! Technology or lightning-wielding Martians? I couldn’t see if he had a ring on or not.

Nooooo, her friend is dead, she has a fight with Sheridan, and now she gets escorted back to her quarters by Garibaldi, who’s literally been stalking her. “Usual badinage” is being generous, though hilarious.

Ah, now I see a ring. Is he a robot, or it is just a robot hand? And do Free Mars have tech like this, or is a Earth-based interference?

Brainstorm him when he comes after you, Talia. Offensive telepathy, c’mon! I couldn’t believe she didn’t drop him, but I guess she’s a civilian.

Ivanova: “I think [Ms Winters]’s an interesting person.” Me: 😶 Sheridan: “You never describe anybody that way.” Me: 😶 Ivanova: “I mean, I don’t really know her that well, and we’ve chatted from time to time and she’s ... interesting.” Me: “I picked these out for you: 👰🏼🤵🏻‍♀️” Sheridan: *raises an eyebrow* Ivanova: “But you know how I feel about telepaths!” Sheridan: “Do I ever. You threw one out of a 3rd story window on Io.” Ivanova: “There was an ample pool below it!” Sheridan: “I’ll assume you knew that.”

1. hilarious. b. bi ally Sheridan confirmed! 

Ms Carter also thinks it’s a false flag operation! Seems likely.

High tech prosthetic weaponry is Garibaldi’s guess for the lightning hands, and I do like the universe building info being dropped into the conversation.

Talia! Offensive! Telepathy! C’mon, dude. I don’t think that was offensive telepathy. Brainstorm achieved, though? I guess?

“What have they done to me,” was it a mindwipe and reprogramming? But Talia’s surety that he died is kinda wild. I don’t know where they’re going with this aspect, other than, he’s part of the false flag operation.

Hm, well that was disturbing.

Ah, Garibaldi is a legacy cop. Explains a thing or two.

eeesh. Talia was raised by the center since she was five. And she was assigned a guide. For one year. And it sounds like Abby erased her memories of her parents and re-directed her feelings of home and love and affection for her parents to the PsiCorps.

The PsiCorps only gives incoming telepaths a guide for a year. Even if they’re only five years old! I’m stunned at the audacity and inhumanity and cruelty of that. It’s no wonder telepaths tend to be loyal to the PsiCorps if their feelings of familial affection are transferred to the institution of PsiCorps.

Clinging to the moment of his death in perpetuity while being puppeted by a computer is absolutely horrifying.

Cyber zombie is a pretty nutso idea, I do agree with Garibaldi on that. And if it existed it would absolutely be misused exactly like this.

Talia need needs some offensive telepathy. Self defense training. Something.

Seriously.

Abel’s “You’re a mind bender!” reinforced my AtLA-inspired impulse to call him a lightning bender:

PsiCorps did it to him! Rattle her bars.

“You can feel the machine crawling in your brain.”

and

“You’ve died too many times already. No need to die again.”

I would say these two are an excellent little horror vignette but the whole episode has been pretty spine-tingling.

Damn, stone cold liar lying! Talia! My girl! Excellent poker face, and I really hope she’s doing some reflection.

“Some people collect coins, or art. I collect secrets.” that’s a pretty dangerous hobby! But extremely cool. Points to Sheridan in my mental tally.

Male bonding via sharing semi-treasonous info about black ops. Bureau 13.

Who talks about Control like a person! I wonder if the computer and the person the subtitles were identifying as “Woman #2″ were talking about the computer graphics robot voice, or if Control is another person. Or robot? Cyber Zombie?

Bester has got to be connected to Bureau 13 in some way shape or form, but it’ll be interesting to see how this plays out.

re Garibaldi, I’m starting to think he’s always an ass to people till they slap him down hard enough, then he’s more or less decent. It’s a relief that he laid off the stalkery behavior in this episode so far. I want to smack him with a wet fish whenever he pops out of a turbolift and Talia looks defeated for a second before she rallies her resolve. Leave my girl alone!

next episode

[2oosterr]

what happened in encampment

lieutenant beau eatwood wc: 0.8k warnings: canon-typical violence

august 11th, 2008; encampment, wy

the day had been quiet, exactly like it had been every day, every week, every year, every waking moment of beau's boring, boring life. it was nice out, the middle of summer with singing birds and not a cloud in sight, ninety degree heat in the air that perfectly matched the seething, bubbling rage just under her skin. it made her uniform feel stifling and, somehow, even more uncomfortable than it usually was.

she'd spent the entire walk from her parents house to the precinct stewing, going back and forth with herself about just how she'd make him pay when she got there. every day since she'd found out, her anger had been steadily building inside her, higher and higher every time he gave her that courteous, crows-feet smile and she had to return it like she didn't know what he'd done.

the glass doors of the station came into view as she emerged from the alley across the street, the one next to the coffee shop with the baristas who knew her order by heart, who she'd grown up alongside. beau imagined that, after today, none of them would ever be able to meet her gaze again, not with the same familiar smile they always gave her.

she hated it anyway; the way they all pretended to have forgotten the person she was before she became a cop, the person they would dread to encounter in the halls, unable to look her in the eyes through their shaky fear. then again, after today, things would just go back to how they'd always been;

with beau on the outside, looking in.

her stare didn't leave the doors as she crossed the street. the only thought  consuming her mind was justice;

punishment;

vengeance.

the door fell shut behind her, closing with a click that echoed in the empty foyer – almost empty, aside from herself and the woman on the front desk.

"afternoon, eastwood!" she chirped, that same overly friendly, tight-lipped smile plastered on her face. "you're early, day shift doesn't finish for another couple'a hours."

"i know." beau replies, breathing slightly laboured with the sheer effort of concealing her temper behind the blank expression she wore.

the receptionist – carla, something in the back of her mind recalls – gives her a confused look, eyes darting down to her computer screen and back to beau's in a gesture so quick, she almost missed the obviously uncomfortable tension it created.

"did'ya need somethin', then?" carla asks, her voice marginally weaker than it had been.

"yeah." beau's voice is still flat, and if she wasn't so out of her mind, she might have realised that she has yet to blink. "cline around? need to talk to 'im."

"steve? yeah, i think he's in the bullpen, wh–" the question dies on her tongue, cut off by beau heading further into the precinct with an unnerving silence following her.

through the next set of doors, she looked to the right and landed directly on her target. he was leaning against his desk, talking to the deputy, blissfully, pitifully, ignorant to the danger stalking towards him.

"cline." she interrupts their conversation, voice low and eyes still unblinking.

"eastwood?" he quirks a brow, giving the deputy a puzzled look from the corner of his eye. "ain't you on nights? whatcha doin' here so early?"

"i got somethin' i need to talk to ya 'bout."

beau keeps her face and voice serious, calculated, and he takes the bait, hook line and sinker.

"well, alright; why don't we talk outside?" he replies, murmuring a quick 'talk to ya later' to the deputy as he trails behind beau back the way she came.

it takes everything in her to contain the laugh that threatens to spill from her lips, glad he was behind her so he can't see her change in expression.

if only he knew.

the warm air engulfs her again as she pushes through the front door, leading her prey to the small alley between the building and the parking lot.

she stops abruptly about halfway down. the blood was rushing in her ears, heart racing a mile a minute and mind hazy with the adrenaline rush. she hears him call her name, sees him wave a hand in front of her face, and hears him complain about wasting his time; but it's not until she watches him turn his back on her, starting to go back inside, that she finally moves.

with unconscious precision, beau pulls her gun from her belt, flicks the safety off, and points the barrel squarely at the back of her fellow officer's head.

she holds her breath, steadying her arm, and squeezes the trigger.

his body makes a satisfying heavy thud when it hits the ground. his blood and brain matter paint the ground, a long splatter of red that steadily grows into a puddle under what remains of his face.

for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile graces beau's lips.

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

Smoke Break

mostly fluff, light smut at the end (18+ pls), 3.7k words

Author’s note: This is an AU where the gang publicly defeated Vecna, Eddie survived and he was cleared of all charges. Y’all are both LEGAL. ENJOY!!!!!! (yes its a (Y/N) fic but it is in first person bc I feel like that’s better for immersion, and its also in gender neutral terms bc inclusivity)

Have at it!!!!!

The best things that happened to me when I moved to Hawkins in the middle of my second senior year were Eddie and the Hellfire Club accepting me with open arms (mostly because of Eddie). My parents forced us to move after I fought a classmate because they were a dick to my friend. And in true parent fashion, instead of just moving schools, dad decided to get a new job and upend my entire life to move to a tiny ass town in Indiana.

Eddie and I hit it off pretty much instantaneously—probably because we both wore Iron Maiden shirts on my first day and not on purpose. Once we got closer he invited me to join Hellfire Club and made sure all the guys weren’t assholes to me.

Unknowingly, Eddie and the Hellfire Club were also the worst thing to happen to me too. Ironic right? Yeah when Chrissy died and Eddie ran to my place to hide from the cops, I had no idea I was going to get dragged in to some supernatural bullshit and almost lose the people that meant the most to me. (Sorry mom and dad).

Yeah all that kinda made March the worst month ever. But Eddie was cleared of all charges once everyone in Hawkins saw Vecna try and kill Max again. Thank god El had enough juice left in her to revive Max (for a second time). But it’s been two months, Eddie’s all healed up and he and the gang are closer than ever.

Eddie and I have been even more inseparable since everything went down. Not that we weren’t close before, but there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t hang out after school and I’m at almost every Corroded Coffin rehearsal. That is also partially because Eddie and I decided to date a month before he almost died and now we don’t really want to be apart from each other, just in case. Once he was all healed up from the demo bat injuries we started a weekly date where we read LOTR at the cemetery together. Next week is our 3 month anniversary.

It’s no secret that we want each other in that way and we’ve talked about it before but Eddie is a sucker for the romantics and wants to make sure our first time together is “perfect.” I tell him every time that it’ll be perfect so long as I’m with him but he always just shuts me up with either a finger on my lips and an “I don’t wanna hear it” or with a kiss. I think the other reason Eddie hasn’t been too keen on having our “perfect” night is because he’s been so stressed with graduation. We’re both graduating this year, thank god, me because your ‘rents threatened to kick you out if I didn’t and Eddie because I’ve been tutoring him since I met him.

__________ Next Week. Monday. Cafeteria for lunch.

“(y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n),” Eddie says rounding the corner in the cafeteria. He barrels towards me and barely slows down enough to not knock me off my seat with a hug.

“Eddie, Eddie be careful! You’re gonna knock me off the seat,” I laugh. “What’s got you so excited?”

He looks at me with big bright eyes and I know it’s something really important. He moves to sit next to me and faces the rest of the table where the gang (that’s still in high school) and the Hellfire Club are sitting.

“Ladies and gents I have an announcement,” he bellows and gets up on the table. He pauses for dramatic effect, like one does, and says “Corroded Coffin has its first opening act show at Mickey’s Bar in Thomasville THIS Saturday.”

The entire table erupts in excited “woohoo’s!” and “fuck yeah’s” as Eddie sits back down next to me. “Does Mickey know that most of Corroded Coffin and its following are under 21?” Gareth asks.

“Yeah, he knows. Turns out he and my Uncle Wayne knew each other way back when and Mickey owed him a favor,” Eddie responded, running his thumb across the back of my hand as we held hands under the table. “So he’s letting people as young as 17 in to the bar for a three band night. Us and two bands from Thomasville that have a similar sound, The Rats and Six Feet Under.”

There’s annoyed groaning coming from Mike, Lucas and Dustin at the 17 and older comment. “Yeah yeah I know it sucks kiddos, but hopefully we’ll play somewhere you guys can come to soon,” Eddie says.

“Thomasville isn’t too far but does this mean we finally get to use the RV as a tour bus?” I ask excitedly.

“Hell yeah it does! We go on at 7 but we need to be there by 5 for set up and sound check. So we’ll have to leave around 4:30 ish since its not too far. Are you excited, babe?”

“Are you kidding me Eds?!? OF COURSE I’m excited! How could I not be?” I ask, reaching to hold his head in my hands. “Y’all have been practicing non-stop and sending your tracks to so many places since your scars finally healed. I couldn’t be more excited for y’all or proud of you for practicing and keeping your head up.”

“You have to be the absolute best thing to happen to me this year, (y/n) (y/l/n). This is our year, baby, ’86 is our year.” He says smiling and leans in to me for a slow kiss. A roll hits the side of his face and he pulls away and laughs then throws it back at Dustin.

“Y’all said you’d keep the sappy shit for home, I was just helping you keep your word!” Dustin laughs. Until Eddie looks at him, the he gets up laughing to try and run away. Eddie’s too fast for Henderson though and traps him in a headlock to give him a decently long noogie. “Ok ok let me go, I’m sorry!” Dustin gets out between laughs.

Eddie lets him go but holds him at arms length. “Never change, Henderson,” Eddie says smiling at him.

“I already promised I wouldn’t and I don’t plan on breaking that promise anytime soon,” Dustin replies with a smile. Dustin sits back down by Will and Eddie comes back to me but instead of sitting his own seat he pulls me out of my seat, sits down, and then pulls me pack down on his lap.

“Comfy?” He asks with a sly smile.

“You do have a comfy lap, so yes,” I reply with a laugh.

__________

Saturday

“Hey there beautiful,” Eddie says, sauntering up to give me a hug. “I missed you.”

“Eddie, we saw each other last night for our Friday film night with Robin and Steve,” I laugh hugging him back. He lifts me up so my legs can wrap around his waist, leans my back against the side of the RV we stole a few months ago (the owners sold it to us for cheap since it wasn’t in the best condition when we brought it back) and kisses me slow.

“Hi hello the young ones are here to help pack stuff up, can you guys stop sucking face please,” Dustin says. Eddie and I stop kissing with a laugh. We look over to see Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Max with hands over their eyes.

“You guys are free to look now,” I say. Eddie nuzzles his head into my neck and lets me get my feet on the ground again.

“Alright!” Eddie says with a clap, a huge grin on his face. “Lets get this bad boy packed so we can get this show on the road.”

An hour later we had all the gear and some drive snacks packed into the RV. Dustin’s mom was just pulling up as Eddie and the band said goodbye to the rest of Hellfire, plus Max, and they all wished Corroded Coffin good luck at the show. Steve and Robin had shown up by now and Nancy and Jonathan said they would meet us there closer to opening time.

“Thank you for asking Steve to drive this because, no offense Eddie, even with (y/n) helping you learn how to drive this better, I still don’t like the idea of you driving,” Robin laughed as she made her way to the couch by the kitchen. The rest of the band was already camped out on the couch in the back, and there was just enough room for Eddie and I to sit by Robin.

“Start her up, big boy,” Eddie said to Steve.

Steve laughed, “I told you to stop calling me that, Eds.”

“I say it with love buddy, it’s all with love.”

__________ At Mickey’s Bar

We get to Mickey’s bar with an hour or so until show time. We all unpack the RV and place all the gear on the stage at the back of the bar. Eddie’s standing with Mickey on the stage and talking logistics. I’m smiling wide watching him talk music with Mickey while the band starts putting stuff in places. Eddie must feel my eyes on him because he turns to look at me mid-sentence and gives me a wink before turning back to Mickey.

While the band sets up and tests their gear with Mickey and the sound guy, Robin and Steve and I snag a big booth close to the right side of the stage to sit in. Setting my purse down on the seat, I head to the bar. I grab a water pitcher and glasses from the bartender and make my way back to the booth, catching the last little bit of Steve and Robin’s conversation.

“So you’re headed to campus next fall right?” Robin asks Steve.

“Yeah I finally sent in my application, I’ve saved up enough money from work to at least get my AA degree,” he responds, pouring out five glasses of water just in time for Nancy and Jonathan to arrive.

We get up and do a round of hugs before setting back into the booth. Eddie hops off stage and bounds over to give Nancy and Jonathan hugs, and kisses my forehead quickly before getting back on stage for Corroded Coffin to start their soundcheck.

“What have we missed?” Nancy asks excitedly after taking a sip of her water.

“We were talking about college and stuff,” Robin says. “I finally got Steve here to send in some applications with me.”

“That’s exciting!” Nancy says, then she turns to me. “What are you and Eddie planning to do after graduation (Y/N)?”

“Oh gosh, um we haven’t really talked about it a lot,” I say, a sad smile on my face as I look at Eddie on stage singing and playing guitar with the band. “He’s been really stressed about graduation and stuff so it hasn’t come up yet.”

“What do you want to do after graduation?” Jonathan asks. “It doesn’t have to be a you and Eddie plan if you don’t want it to be, y’know.”

“I know, I know,” I smile. “But I want it to be an Eddie and I plan. Ever since I almost lost him in the Upside Down I can’t really imagine a life or even a chapter of life without him nearby.”

Nancy holds Jonathan’s hand at the last part of what I said, the look at each other and share a knowing glance before a brief kiss. “Being away from Jonathan this year has been hard so I get that feeling,” Nancy says with a smile.

I smile back and Robin pipes up. “Eddie won’t stop talking about all the traveling he wants you guys to do once graduation is over.” She grunts as Steve elbows her in the side.

“Pretty sure that was supposed to be a surprise Robin,” Steve says.

“Eddie and I have talked about traveling but we haven’t made any plans yet,” I laugh. “Don’t worry Steve, no surprise was ruined.

We all turn back to the stage as the other bands wrap up their sound checks. I get up to head to the restroom, and as I walk Eddie snags my arm and pulls me to his chest.

“Whoa, lovey, you shouldn’t tug someone with a full bladder that hard,” I laugh into his chest. “Or hug them this hard. Eds you’re gonna squeeze all the pee out of me.”

He laughs and pulls away, “sorry, I’m just so excited for tonight and that you’re here and that almost everyone important is here with me tonight.” He has the most beautiful gleam in his eyes while he says this.

“I’m excited to be here with you and for you, babe. You and the guys are going to be fantastic,” I beam up at him. “Now gimme a quick kiss so I can go to the bathroom before you guys officially go on okay?”

He smiles and kisses me slow and hard, one hand on each cheek, pulling me as close as possible to him. We separate with a shallow breath, “I love you (Y/N), I know I don’t say it enough but I really do.”

“I love you Eddie,” I smile. “And you might not say it but you show me daily.”

He plants a quick peck on my lips and pushes me towards the bathroom, “be quick! We go on in five!” His giddy laugh lingers behind him as he bounds back towards the stage.

Corroded Coffin completely change when they’re on a real stage in front of a real crowd instead of the small group that comes to watch their practices. Eddie is amazing on stage, and the band as a whole puts on a killer show. I don’t think Eddie took his eyes off me at all, honestly, even when he was singing and playing guitar and jumping around to hype up the crowd. We held eye contact the whole time and it made the show that much more magical for me (hopefully for him too).

As soon as they finish and pull their gear off stage for the next band to go on, Eddie finds me by the booth and scoops me up into a big, tight and sweaty hug (like a feet off the ground hug).

“You guys were INCREDIBLE,” I exclaim when he puts me down. “So amazing.”

“That was such a rush, (Y/N). Such a rush,” he beams. “I need a smoke break after that though, come outside with me?”

“Of course!”

Eddie intertwines our fingers and leads me out front and then around to the corner where he can smoke freely.

“You don’t mind if I light one right?” He asks.

���Nope go ahead,” I say leaning against the brick wall beside him.

“It’s really cool that you’re chill about this, I’ve had a lot of past partners that weren’t.” He says between hits.

“I won’t partake but I don’t mind when other people do. Take no peace, and do no harm, y’know? Doesn’t effect me so why stop someone,” I say, taking in his muscular form under the street lights. He wore his battle vest overtop of a DIY muscle tank made from an ACDC band tee, his classic ripped black jeans with a chain for his wallet and his signature black bandana in his back pocket. The lighting hit his arms just right, and his lean against the brick building was more seductive than I think he intended. As I looked back up I caught his eyes and he smirked.

“Like what you see, (Y/L/N)?”

“You know I do,” I laugh.

He looks up at the night sky, takes a long drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke towards the stars. Looking back at me, he asks, “would you mind if I kissed you after I smoked?”

Taken aback because he’s never asked that before, I pause, “uh…no, no I don’t think so.”

He takes a step towards me, eyes heavy with desire. “Ah, ah, ah no hesitation, love, I haven’t smoked around you a lot because I know its not your thing, but I need a solid yes or no. can I kiss you after I smoke?”

“Yes.” That was the fastest I’ve ever answered a question, and Eddie’s eye lit up with excitement at my eagerness. He comes closer to me, takes one last puff, drops his cigarette, uses one hand to grab my hip and the other to grab the back of my neck to pull me in for a heady smoke flavored kiss. I moan at his taste and he tries to pull me closer even though the only thing between us is our clothes.

He kisses me hard and slow, like he’s savoring me. I taste smoke and cheap whiskey on his tongue and moan—he must’ve done a pre show shot with the band. Then I pause, I feel his excitement through his jeans and pull away with a sly smile. “Damn Munson, all hot and bothered by a show, a kiss and some close proximity?”

He laughs, but doesn’t let go of me, moving both hands to my hips. My shoulders and the top of my back are braced on the brick wall but Eddie pulls my hips to his so I can feel him again.

“I don’t wanna be vulgar with you, love, but I haven’t been able to rub one off in a while with school, graduation, passing the Hellfire torch to Henderson and rehearsing with the band,” he groans, grinding his hips into mine.

I hold back the moan in my throat.

“Ah, well too bad we can’t fix that until you set up our perfect first night,” I say, meeting his gaze and matching his desire tinted eyes. “Anyway, we should probably get inside before the gang thinks we left them.”

“One more kiss, please.” Eddie asks, hands rubbing my hips, thumbs finding my skin under the edge of my homemade Corroded Coffin tee. I nod and he pulls me around the corner into the alley away from the light to ravage my lips again. I’m at his disposal, stuck between him and the wall. He’s grinding himself against me and we’re both moaning at the sweet, sweet friction. I can feel his hard on even more now.

“Fuck Eddie, do you want me to touch you? Can I touch you?” I ask breathlessly, breaking away from our needy kissing.

“Fuck, yes,” he moans eagerly. He kisses down my neck as I undo his jeans and palm him through his boxers. He bites where my neck meets my shoulder and pulls back only to lean his forehead against mine and watch as I touch him.

I reach into his boxers and run my hand along his cock—thick and heavy, bigger than I thought it would be—and I’m getting turned on at the thought of him inside me. His head drops to my shoulder as I move his boxers down so his cock is unconfined. I run my thumb along the tip and Eddie pulls in a gasp. Using his precum, I grip him and make my way from head to base, squeezing slightly at the end.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “(Y/N), please.” I continue moving my hand up and down along his shaft slowly, loving all the sounds he’s making. Head moved to my shoulder, Eddie is groaning and moaning all from my touch. He’s squirming and gasping and I feel like I’m high. We’ve never gone this far before. Sure there were hot and heavy make-outs and grinding through clothes but we’ve never been so intimate. We’ve never touched each other this way before.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” I praise him as I speed up my ministrations. He moans and whines at the same time and I think it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “Mr. Cuffs-by-the-bed-Munson,” I tease. “Do you have a praise kink?”

He groans and his head falls back, as I circle the head of his cock with my thumb again. “Shut the fuck up and kiss me, (Y/N).”

“So demanding,” I laugh. He whines, “please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” And this time I’m the one that takes his mouth and ravages him. As we fall deeper into our kiss, I continue rubbing and squeezing his cock with my hand, fast and slow, fast and slow. I can feel him start to falter, and he thrusts against my hand, reaching for his orgasm himself. He shudders and breaks our kiss with a moan of my name, “(Y/N),” as he cums in my hand.

Eddie watches as I lift my hand to taste him, sweet but salty and oh-so-perfect. “Fuck that’s so hot,” he whispers, words laced with desire. He couldn’t take his eyes off my hand as I sucked dripping fingers into my mouth, looking down I saw his cock twitch at the sight.

Eddie tears his eyes away from me and pulls the hanky from his back pocket to wipe himself off and then pass it to me to clean my hand. Tucking himself back into his boxers and righting his jeans, Eddie takes the used bandana and tosses it in the dumpster across from where we took cover from the street and bar lights. He looks at me with a dumb, satisfied yet heated grin and pulls me in for another searing kiss. Now I’m the one all hot and bothered and I know he can sense it, but just to be sure I moan into his mouth and deepen the kiss, grinding myself on his already hard again, jean covered cock.

He pulls back with a smirk, licking his lips. “Fuck a perfect first time, you’re all mine when we get home tonight and you’ll see how I put those cuffs to use.”

[alicedrawslesmis]

Yesterday I was trying to think just how wild les mis was at the time

like imagine if during the Trump presidency Jeb Bush released a book where it starts with a pastor in texas who is a genuine nice guy who in the wake of vietnam goes to the deathbed of the only socialist atheist guy in town and he hates the man but as they get to talking he realises the man and him have a lot in common and that he actually understands god more than the pastor. Before he dies, the pastor kneels before him and kisses his hand. And you go "huh... so Bush wrote that? Sounds like he's having some american guilt there. I mean Good For Him idk"

then this black man who was just released from prison after he was held 20 years for drug posession and escape attempts who has a terrible record of violence while in custody and he's huge and mean looking and everyone is afraid of him and shuns him, and is homeless now, tries to rob the pastor. But the pastor doesn't press charges and instead gives the guy what he was gonna steal anyway (the church money) and is like "listen, I'm giving you this chance. Just because the world did this to you it doesn't mean you have to do this to the world." and the former convict decides to be the best possible person ever. And you're like 'well this sounds a bit like those conservative wish-fullfilment fantasies. But it's odd. That Jeb Bush would write this book. Right? It is odd."

And then the former convict meets this prostitute, is the single parent of a daughter that represents america at the wake of vietnam. You find that typical of Bush. But then the guy adopts the girl after the prostitute dies, and this woman was actually framed as a good person and a great mother and there's an antagonist who is an incorruptible cop. He is also not a white man so he feels like he needs to be extra correct within the police force. He hates the civil rights movement. He is so incorruptible that he won't let the former convict alone even tho he is a great guy whom everyone loves. And you're like 'there is surprising nuance here. Wouldn't peg Jeb Bush as a nuance guy"

The convict then admits his violent past, the mother of the young girl dies, and he runs away and adopts the girl that represents america after vietnem and starts raising her like his own. He loves her dearly. He gives her clothes and teaches her to read. They start living in a closed rural community together, safe from police.

And then the POV switches to a young conservative who lives with his super conservative fundamentalist grandfather in california. He finds out his dad was pro-civil rights, friends with MLK, he has an identity crisis and then he reads more about him and realises that conservatives suck. And you're like "JEB BUSH?". And then he finds out his dad had a political campaign so he gets a bunch of pro-mlk buttons, even tho MLK has been dead a while. His grandfather finds out about it and is furious, they fight and the kid is kicked out of his house.

The kid then gets taken in by one of his classmates from Berkley who is part of a radical socialist activist group. They help set him up. He gets intimidated at first and stops hanging out with them. He meets the girl who represents america after Vietnam and she's beautiful and adorable and kind of naïve but so is he and they tentatively starts flirting. Eventually they get together. But then she tells him that her dad decided to move to Europe. The young centrist is heartbroken. He has nothing else to live for now, and he contemplates ending his own life. BUT right as he does, he finds out his radical socialist friends, who were at a rally at the capitol, are about to be confronted by a crowd of heavily armed riot police. There will be bloodshed. He decides to join his friends. He's done being a centrist. He goes to the rally and there's a huge confrontation, he's at the front lines, his friends embrace his help. But he gets hit in the head, and the former convict mysteriously shows up and saves him. Violence ensues.

In the end, the incorruptible police officer who was helping arrest the protesters is saved by the former convict. He realises that the law is wrong, he can't arrest the former convict. He's a good man. He doesn't deserve prison. He realises all his life he put so many people in prison who didn't deserve it. He can't go on like this, he can't be a cop and a good person at the same time. So he instead ends his life.

The young now radical socialist goes back to his grandfather who promises to be a democrat now. The young man marries America and the former convict backs away, to let America and young socialist be in a happy marriage together. He dies in her arms, knowing he'll go to heaven. Knowing he did his job in raising America from tatters, and she can go into a new age of joy with the young socialist.

And then you put the book down and stare at the cover. It is Jeb Bush who wrote this.

Partway through the book there was an antagonist who dressed in a fake president outfit with american flags and sometimes fake military gear, who was also orange for some reason, who was a coward and clearly a conman or a grifter. Who was using people's patriotism to take their money. He ends the book running a casino that's also a front for money laundering and drug smuggling.

And Jeb Bush wrote it. And you're like 'this is fucked UP............ is Jeb a socialist now???????' and he is! But he also lives in Canada and refuses to step back into the USA as long as Trump is president. And it's like you're having a bad acid trip

[mikoreilovepostgenerator]

Headcanons because I binged the entirety of Seven Stories I’m Having Feelings:

Silver;

Shiro grabs Kuroh’s hand whenever he’s feeling insecure

They also sleep holding hands.

Neko likes to sleep as a cat but often un-transforms in her sleep so sometimes Kuroh and Shiro wake up when she does so. They end up getting her her own bed because of this.

Kuroh often sleeps in his normal dayclothes, despite reprimanding Shiro and Neko for doing the same.

Neko wears her summer uniform in winter too, despite being told off about it routinely.

Shiro teaches science at the school, but offers tutoring for students learning German.

All of the students were invited to Kuroh and Shiro’s wedding. Almost everyone showed up.

Neko photobombed a lot of wedding photos.

Neko eventually starts letting some of her especially close friends call her Miyabi.

Red;

Izumo is an insomniac. He hardly ever sleeps, but he always makes sure all the HOMRA kids are sleeping well.

Anna stays living at the bar with Izumo after Mikoto’s death.

There is a locked closet full of memories in Bar HOMRA and only Izumo, Tatara, and Mikoto had keys. Upon the deaths of the latter two, the keys were promptly destroyed, but Izumo kept the keychains they had attached to them and put them on his own key.

Misaki doesn’t drink because his father was an alcoholic.

Misaki calls his step-dad “Dad”.

All of the HOMRA members are some flavor of queer. All of them.

Some of the HOMRA members were drug addicts or alcoholics before joining.

Izumo has a list of numbers and strings to pull ready to make sure every single one gets help.

Izumo cooks breakfast for all the HOMRA members who come early in the morning.

Misaki is teaching Anna how to skateboard.

Anna has started to assume some of Tatara’s hobbies.

The bar gets completely decked out for pride with flags representing each and every HOMRA member hung in the bar. (no cops at pride only HOMRA)

Everyone thinks that Tatara started this tradition but it was Mikoto.

After a window got broken during this one time there have been members guarding the door at all times.

Mikoto was the one who suggested many of Tatara’s hobbies to him.

Mikoto can sew, not well, but he knows how to thread a machine.

Blue;

Part of the reason Reisi always has a puzzle on his desk while he’s doing work is because he can’t focus if his hands are free.

Reisi never writes anything down. He’s able to file things away and remember them when he needs to.

A lot of Seri’s ruthless image rests on the fact that she has intense resting bitch face.

Seri often brings in breakfast for the whole Scepter 4 crew because all of them suck ass at remembering to eat before work.

Their favorites are Izumo’s homemade pastries but they don’t know they’re made by Izumo.

Seri only brings bean-flavored things for lunch. 

Saruhiko has fidget toys he plays with under his desk during meetings.

There’s a (former) broom closet that has been dubbed “the quiet room” where anyone who’s stressed can go to sit when they need a moment.

Inside there’s a beanbag chair, a small light, and a power outlet.

Saruhiko is the most frequent (but not only) user of said room. He eats lunch in there because he doesn’t like to be looked at while he eats.

Hidaka has a diary where he writes letters to Kusuhara when he’s upset. The one time someone found it they put it exactly where they found it and never said anything.

What used to be Kusuhara’s desk has never been used since he died. His computer was removed, but there’s a constantly upkept vase of white lilies on it.

Once a year everyone writes him a note and leaves it on the desk.

Even Saruhiko and Reisi take part in this without complaint.

Zenjō got to keep Kusuhara’s sword.

Green;

Yukari is gay as fuck

Nagare says fuck gender

Sukuna eventually asked Yukari to officially adopt him once he was finally emancipated from his parents.

They feed so many stray cats that Neko showed up in the horde one time.

Sukuna refuses to upgrade his game console from a famicom until he owns and has beaten every single released game on it.

Yukari pours a can of beer down the drain every year on Iwa’s birthday.

Sukuna eventually goes back to school and college.

Iwa has an extremely specific taste in beers.

Nagare’s favorite color isn’t green but he won’t tell anyone what it actually is. This has become a game within the clan.

Yukari has done the nails of every J-rank JUNGLE member.

Multi;

When Saruhiko left HOMRA, Izumo called Seri almost immediately to make sure he was safe and that the wound on his chest wouldn’t get infected.

Saruhiko knew exactly who got Seri so concerned.

Mikoto knew Saruhiko would leave before it happened and made sure it would be Reisi he went to.

Reisi took it upon himself to make sure one of the Scepter 4 apartments was fully furnished and ready for him.

Saruhiko did not know who made sure Scepter 4 was ready for him.

Reisi visits Mikoto’s grave (or, if his body was burned like what happened to Tatara, the site of his death) two times a year. His birthday and the date of his death. Instead of leaving lilies, he leaves lavender and a pack of cigarettes.

Nobody other than Izumo (who ran into him doing this once) knows that he does so.

Reisi stole one of the chains off of Mikoto’s jeans when he died.

He keeps it in the chest pocket of his work suit going into stressful things that he had gotten used to talking with Mikoto about.

Izumo and Seri got married less than 2 years after the end of RoK.

Seri wanted the traditional bf-proposes-to-gf thing but she kept leaving hints all over the place (ring catalogues open to specific things, ring sizing charts with a specific size highlighted, etc.).

Their wedding cake was half red bean flavored, half vanilla. Izumo made it himself because every bakery he called laughed him off the phone.

Had Mikoto and Reisi gotten married, Anna and Reisi’s niece would have been flower girls and Reisi’s nephew would have been the ring bearer.

The two’s rings would also not look like they matched at all but line up or lock together in some way when brought together.

Everyone would have thought that the scrutiny of Reisi’s family would have been the worst part of all this but Anna’s scrutiny of Reisi was the real hard part.

Nagare and Neko are bio siblings and I’ll die on this hill.

Yukari and Kuroh start to become close again after the events of Circle Vision.

Neko starts calling Yukari uncle eventually

[nurbanu22]

Chapter 1:

Masterlist.

<< Prologue | Chapter 2>>

Giana has locked herself in her bedroom ever since she found out about their engagement, exactly a week ago. So her family divided the tasks that she did not want to take charge of; his mother and sister folded and put away all his clothes, Sonny took it upon himself to put away all his paintings, drawings and brushes, while Michael went against his father and put together all the information about the Shelby family in a folder.

At this time, she was lying on her bed, when for the ninth time in the morning there was a knock on her bedroom door. Michael's voice was heard on the other end "Giana…I know you don't want to talk to us, but I have a folder with information on the Shelby Family that you should read."

After a few seconds that for Michael were eternal, he heard on the other side of the door the soft voice of his sister "You can come in"

Michael stepped inside and closed the door behind him, just as Giana scrambled out from under the tumult of blankets and settled on the back of her bed.

"Well, I have everything here, do you want me to read it to you or do it yourself?" Michael asked as he unbuttoned his jacket and sat comfortably on the bed at Giana's feet.

She smoothed her brown hair and looked at her brother, for the first time in days "You do it, please"

"Well, you're marrying Thomas Shelby, you know that. Now, he's the leader of the Peaky Blinders, a gang of criminals residing in Birmingham, but they seem to be making a name for themselves in the surrounding area. They work with bookmaking, protection , liquor and some robbery. They have the police and some politicians on their payroll, dad liked that-" Giana interrupted him.

"Tell me about my new family" she said resting her head on her knees, she really didn't care about her future husband's business, she already had enough with her own family's business.

Michael flipped through about 5 pages, until he finally stopped at one and started talking "Well, the most important ones. In total there are 5 siblings, this is the order; Arthur, Thomas, John, Ada and Finn, all of the same parents. Their mother died when they were young and their father abandoned them, so they were raised by their aunt, Polly Gray, Thomas trusts her a lot with business, so you should fall on her good side. Arthur spends his time drinking and fighting, John apparently loves sex because he has a lot of children and Ada is part of the communist party, so she will not agree with your lifestyle, she will be difficult. The youngest is a boy so it will not be a problem Also, they have a gypsy family on their side, the Lees, apparently their leader's daughter, Esme, married John."

Giana straightened up and took a deep breath, then spoke, "Okay, now tell me about the women in her life."

Michael laughed and lit a cigarette, he knew that his sister didn't really care what others thought of her, but having been raised as a "lady", in a family that had to maintain a good profile, she couldn't let foreign women of her future marriage will ruin her reputation. He spoke after taking a couple of puffs on his cigarette "Elizabeth Stark, also called Lizzie is your fiancé's prostitute, whom you will see very often, since she is his secretary. Apparently she is like family and Polly Gray trusts in her" Giana sighed in frustration and went to bed dramatically, she didn't know Polly Grey, but it already sounded like a big problem, a big problem that she didn't feel like facing. Michael continued, "She was John's fiancée as far as I know. Your biggest problem will be Grace Burgess."

Giana frowned "And why is that?"

"Apparently he's in love with her, even knowing she worked with the police. Her whole damn family are fucking uniformed men." Giana moaned again in frustration, she hated the cops. Perhaps it was because her family's business involved taking tremendous care of them, keeping them on her payroll for their own benefit. Or maybe because they're bloody rats who can't be trusted, she remembers the cops turning a blind eye when some thugs tried to kill her father in the hospital, despite the favors and dollars they had been paid for years. .

"How do I accept this marriage if he loves another woman?" Giana asked, curious.

Michael smiled "Because she lives in the United States, married to a banker apparently" she said as she raised her eyebrows.

Giana was significantly surprised, one part of her feeling sorry for her tragic love story, but the other part of her, the selfish part of her, bursting with joy. Perhaps, one day her husband will get tired of her and ask for a divorce, to be with his beloved, giving her the opportunity to finally live the life she had always wanted, of course, she would not share those thoughts with anyone.

Giana made herself more comfortable in bed and her brother was surprised that, despite having messy hair (although she tried to fix it) and dry tears, she still had that serious and respectful posture that she had learned over time " Now, the most important part. What is the reason for our union? I don't want you to skip any details"

"Simple, he needs help to expand, apparently Darby Sabini has been making it difficult for him and everyone knows that he is afraid of our father"

"Darby fucking Sabini?" Of course she knew Darby Sabini, he was the most disgusting and stupid man she had ever met, he acted without thinking, without measuring the consequences, that was bad for business.

"I know, a fucking idiot" Michael said laughing.

Giana had a question running through her head ever since she found out about their engagement, and with all the weight in the world, she decided to ask it "Michael you… do you think he's good? Mr. Shelby I mean, I don't want to have to stick a knife in him in the neck and escape on my wedding day you know" Giana feared that it was just like her brother-in-law, Connie's husband. But she knew for a fact that she would not be as weak as her sister and would stain her hands with blood if she had to, but she would not let a man lay hands on her, less if that was the man she wanted. I had to protect her.

Michael looked at her for a few long seconds, not believing the words that came out of her sister's mouth. With her right hand, she took her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray on her bedside table, which was there only for the nights Michael visited her in her room, whether it was to tell her little sister about the idiocy of her parents. siblings or just talking for hours. He readjusted himself on the bed, and took her hands looking into her eyes "Giana, you can doubt anything in this world, I grant you. But never believe that our father or any of us, would let something happen to you. Dad made this decision believing it would be in the best interest of your safety. Our father and all of us investigated his family, he won't hurt you and if he does… you know what to do dear."

Giana, with tears in her eyes, threw herself into the arms of her brother, her older brother, her favorite brother, and began to cry on her shoulder. Her whole life had been based on her family, on her bond and her loyalty to her, but now she would be separated from that family and thrown into some terrible part of London. But, anyway, in all that fear and sadness that began to grow inside her a week ago, she finally found a safe space, that only her brother could give her. He would always have her family, he would always have her art with her, she must not leave him behind.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - X

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 4,100+

Previously on…

The next three days were one of the darkest periods of Dick Grayson’s life. 

He was thrown back into the past to the moments after his parents were murdered. This felt the same but somehow worse. Because he was convinced he had the power to stop it, to keep Y/N safe.

Why did everyone he love have to die?

Was he cursed?

Was he responsible for their deaths?

He hadn’t even been able to tell Y/N how he really felt. He’d been holding back all this time, terrified that his truth would just push her away and make her decide to close off from him.

Now Dick wished he could go back in time and confess everything to her. If she had pushed him away, he would found his way back to her somehow. He sees that now – now that it’s too late.

He looked at Y/N sleeping peacefully in her bed at the manor.

Is it a miracle if conjuring was used to fight back at fate?

Dick doesn’t even remember what he said when he contacted Zatanna. He must’ve sounded hysterical and utterly desperate. His vision had been blurred from the tears he couldn’t control. 

He already blacked the whole thing out.

Zatanna told them that Y/N would sleep for a few days. Even if her magic saved her life and Y/N wouldn’t even have a scar to prove she had died, her body was still exhausted from the trauma of it all.

But even with Zatanna’s reassurance, Dick hadn’t left Y/N’s side, absolutely terrified that she was still in danger, that she could still leave them forever.

When Y/N started to shift, Dick sat up straighter in the chair that he’d pulled close to her bed.

Y/N winced before her eyes fluttered open.

Dick didn’t want to overwhelm her, so he just waited for her to fully wake up.

Y/N seemed confused when she realized that she was back in her room at the manor.

Then her gaze moved to Dick.

“Bruce, is he–”

“He’s fine,” Dick cut her off before she could get herself into a panic.

Her entire body relaxed and she let out the breath she was holding in without realizing it.

“He has a concussion and he’s a little beat up. But he’s had worse,” Dick elaborated.

She raised a brow. “You tend to say that a lot.”

Dick shrugged.

But it was true: Bruce had been in much worse condition.

“You saved his life, Y/N.”

She seemed uncomfortable hearing that and didn’t meet his gaze.

“I did what anyone would’ve done,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not everyone would be that brave.”

A silence settled between them for a few moments.

“How am I here?” Y/N finally asked Dick quietly.

But they both knew she was really asking, ‘How am I alive?’

“I’m not sure you really want to know all the details…” Dick had been dreading this conversation.

“I’m assuming you called in another favor with your magic friend,” Y/N thought aloud.

“Zatanna,” Dick confirmed. “And, yes. Something like that.”

Y/N gave him a look that told him she wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

“She used a spell that reversed your injuries. She…” Dick had to pause and clear his throat and get rid of his emotions that were threatening to spill. “She used your blood to write a spell, making it far stronger than most she’s cast. It saved your life.”

Y/N watched him for a moment.

“That must’ve been scary,” she whispered, truly understanding what she had put him through.

She simply could not imagine had it been the other way around. The idea of watching Dick die was something she hoped to never live through.

“He hadn’t left your side until Alfred basically secretly drugged him and scared him to get his own bedroom.”

Y/N moved to get out of bed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick panicked as she stood up to stop her.

“I feel…” she thought about it for a moment.

“Like you were stabbed to death?” Dick offered darkly.

“No. I feel…I feel fine.”

He could tell she was telling the truth.

“Perks of magically being healed?” She offered innocently.

“Guess so.”

She moved out of the bed and realized she was wearing cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt that she most definitely didn’t die in.

What had happened while she was asleep? How long was she dead?

Y/N went to the window and looked out at the grounds of Wayne Manor.

“What happened when the cops showed up?” She asked quietly, almost in a daze.

“You’d have to ask Tim for details. I was preoccupied with…” Dick’s words died out.

Y/N turned away from the window to look at him.

She may have survived, but that was never going to make talking about that night any easier for him.

Luckily, she understood what Dick couldn’t put into words.

Dick took in a deep breath and crossed his arms, “We got them, Y/N.”

It almost seemed to good to be true. They’d been at this for months. It took them weeks just to plan their final blow.

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be to believe that it was truly over.

It didn’t help that there was no returning to her old life. Too much had changed.

“With the evidence you gave the FBI, there’s not a lawyer in the world that can save them. Even if a member’s hands aren’t dirty, the public shame will be enough to neutralize them for good,” Dick added with a bit of optimism.

But he could tell by Y/N’s face that she was having trouble accepting the truth.

He took a step toward her. 

“If there’s members of The Court that slipped out from underneath us, if any of them try to come after you, it’ll just prove to the world that The Court of Owls is still operating. And exposing that will be the last thing they’ll want.”

She tried to force a small smile and nod, but it was unconvincing.

Dick closed the space between them and grabbed her hands.

“Y/N, you did it.”

“It’s really over,” she whispered, staring into his deep blue eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded.

Then Dick’s focus shifted. He looked her up and down. “Y/N, you should really get some rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

Y/N sighed. “I think I’m gonna take a shower.” She smirked, “Get all that death off me.”

Dick frowned. “Not funny.”

“Jason would think it’s funny,” Y/N teased as she walked to the bathroom.

He playfully glared at her. “I’ll give you some space. But I’ll be down in the cave if you need me.”

Dick only got a few steps before Y/N called his name as if she’d forgotten something and rushed to him.

He looked at her expectantly.

Y/N stepped forward and locked her arms around Dick and buried her face into his shoulder. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as his hands rubbed her back soothingly and he pulled her closer.

Dick wanted to tell Y/N that she didn’t have to thank him. He saved her life and he would do it again and again and again, and he would never expect gratitude for it. Because Dick knew that it was just as much for him as it was for her.

So instead he just held her in silence and felt the warmth from her body – the same body that had been ice cold and lifeless just days before.

When they finally pulled away, Dick was studying her face to make sure she was alright to be left alone.

He gave her one last look before leaving her.

Y/N took her time in the shower, making the water as hot as her skin would allow without giving it burns. There wasn’t a single bruise or cut on her. Her fingers traced over the place on her abdomen where the katana had been shoved through. 

There was nothing.

She wondered if there was a price to pay for such magic. Would she be held accountable? Or would it be Dick’s friend who faced the consequences?

Y/N didn’t know how long she’d been showering, but when she finally walked out, the bathroom was filled with too much steam.

She quickly put on sweatpants and a t-shirt when her stomach started growling. She couldn’t even remember when her last meal had been.

Y/N moved to her door after deciding that going straight to the kitchen was quite necessary.

But she stopped as she heard footsteps walking past her room in the hall.

She froze, thinking it was Bruce.

What would she say to him? Would he be angry with her? Would he not react at all to her resurrection? What would hurt her more between the two?

But it wasn’t Bruce. 

Tim and Damian were walking down the hallway.

“How much longer do you think he’ll stay?” She heard Damian ask.

“I don’t know. I heard the Titans have been bugging him to come back,” Tim answered. “I’m sure Kori misses him and has been texting.”

Damian just hummed in acknowledgment.

Y/N realized her hand was suspended over the doorknob.

And she had a realization: she was safe to leave.

But more importantly, she wasn’t the only one that could return to their “normal” life: so could Dick, so could everyone else in the family.

Soon, Tim would go back to his condo in the city. Jason would stop working so closely with the family he tried to disown and he’d probably stop coming around manor so often – if ever. And Bruce…Bruce would move on to new cases and return to the usual patrolling.  

Y/N turned and looked at the bedroom that had become her new home in the past few months. Her personality was nowhere to be found inside. It wasn't actually hers. She was just one of its many visitors. 

Y/N grabbed her duffle bag from underneath the queen-sized bed and started throwing her belongings into it.

Ten minutes later, Y/N had her jacket and shows on, and all of her belongings were packed in her bag. 

She still had to deal with all her equipment that was sitting in the cave. But that was a problem for another day. Right now, she didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with it. She needed to leave – before she changed her mind.

-

Y/N was just yards from the front door when she heard his voice.

“Y/N?” Dick asked just loud enough to catch her.

She froze in place.

While her back was still to him, she closed her eyes in grievance from the failure of being spotted.

She slowly turned around.

“You trying to sneak out of here?” Dick asked.

It was meant to sound teasing, but she heard his disappointment loud and clear.

“It’s about time I get out of your hair.” 

“We’re not exactly kicking you out…” Dick tried to joke.

“You said so yourself: it’s safe for me now.” She sighed and walked closer to him. “Look, I just…I need some time alone.”

Dick took it a bit too personally. Were they really that exhausting to be around? He thought she had started to see them as her own family. He thought things were OK.

“At least let me drive you,” he offered quietly.

“I called a cab. It’s waiting for me outside.”

Before Dick could say anything else, she quickly turned and made her escape.

Y/N knew what she was scared of. She was scared he’d tell her he was leaving Gotham now that the case had been solved. But she was even more scared that he’d tell her he was staying. 

She wasn’t ready to deal with either scenario.

So, Y/N did what she did best: she ran.

————————

Y/N stared at the wall of her safe house.

The silence that she had once grown used to long ago was now irritating.

Y/N hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to the chaos of Wayne Manor until she had torn herself away from it. Even when it was quiet there, she could feel the presence of everyone.

Now she was left only to her thoughts.

And just she was about to escape the silence and go grab food at a nearby diner, there was a knock on the door.

Y/N knew for a fact that this safe-house hadn’t be blown yet – and that included with the Wayne family. It was exactly why she chose to come here instead of the one where Bruce first found her and dragged her to Wayne Manor for her own safety.

Which was why Y/N grabbed one of her guns and checked to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off before she tiptoed to the door.

She looked through the peep hole and her stomach twisted when she saw Bruce Wayne was on the other side.

She knew he could sense her presence on the other side, and there was no hiding. So she opened the door quickly.

Bruce eyed the gun in her hand. “This has become a habit of yours.”

Y/N ignored his comment, uncocked the gun, and carefully placed it on a table near the door.

When she was finally able to take Bruce in, she noted that his face was covered in bruises and small cuts. To be honest, Y/N expected more damage after being a witness to his near-death beating. 

“May I come in?” Bruce asked softly.

She blinked rapidly, realizing she had yet to invite him inside.

This was all reminiscent of that night.

And Y/N didn’t appreciate the memories and feelings Bruce was stirring up.

An awkward silence settled between them. The silence of her apartment was doing nothing to help.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N knew the question was sincere, but Bruce still managed to ask it without showing any ounce of emotion – as if he wasn’t personally invested in the matter. 

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly. Her eyes softened. “Are you okay?”

He simply nodded.

Silence again.

“You can never do that again,” Bruce declared.

“Do what?”

“You risked your life to save mine. The boys refused to tell me what happened, but I saw the footage. You threw yourself in front of me.”

Y/N remained calm as she said, “You did the same for me.”

Bruce shook his head. Because they both knew it wasn’t the same thing.

The truth was that Bruce woke up to find Dick crying over Y/N’s dead body. And then a few minutes he had watched as Dick begged Zatanna to help him.

And Bruce? Bruce had been unconscious when Y/N had needed him the most.

He had protected her all these months – with his own family and his own home – just to be useless in her final moment of need.

When Bruce finally woke up recovered to find out that Y/N had fled the manor, he knew he needed to go to her. He needed to make sure she never did something so stupid as risking her life to save him.

But now Bruce stood before her and he knew he needed to tell her so much more than just that.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? Did you just plan on lecturing me again?”

But Bruce wasn’t realized he couldn’t use any words tonight.

Ever so slowly, he stepped into her space, putting less and less space between their bodies. Y/N could feel the heat coming from him. And she sucked in a gasp from his proximity. She breathed in his cologne that she’d grown to love so much that it instantly relaxed her.

Her heart beat faster and faster as his eyes shifted down to her lips, hesitating in a way that was excruciating to Y/N. But it gave her time to resist, to allow her to shut this down before it could continue.

But Y/N didn’t want to do that.

Bruce brushed her hair away from her face, then his hands shifted slightly to cup her face. His touch wasn’t soft, but insistent.

He pressed his lips to Y/Ns. Brisk and determined. 

The tension finally snapped and pushed them to a passionate kiss that was long overdo.

Was this only going to cause them both more pain in the future?

Or was this what they should’ve done long ago?

Bruce pushed Y/N against a wall.

And then everything became a blur.

Bruce picked Y/N up and wrapped her legs around his waist for her, silently instructing her. 

Clothes were unzipped and unbuttoned, and thrown around the apartment without thought.

Their breathing was heavy and reactive to the way their hands raced across each other’s now naked skin. 

For never being at this particular safe house, Bruce found his way to the bed with ease.

From the movement of their bodies and obvious desire for one another, one thing became clear: they were never meant to only share one night together.

————

Y/N had tried with all her might to stay awake – even if that meant pulling an all-nighter.

She was trying to break the pattern. And even though Bruce had exhausted her body to no end, she didn’t want to wake up to find his side of the bed empty.

But she was shocked to open her eyes and find not only that Bruce was still in her bed, but that she had been sleeping on his bare chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Y/N could feel that he was awake. Apparently he was much more disciplined than her.

Little did she know Bruce hadn’t slept at all, not wanting to miss the feeling of her against him. 

Y/N slowly lifted her head, “Hi.”

He smirked at the sleepiness in her voice.

“Hi."

“Didn’t expect you to be here still,” she admitted quietly.

“I can leave if you want.” And he meant it, even though it would hurt.

“No,” she scolded him in a breathy gasp.

The tension in his body released. 

Y/N shifted off of his chest

“And where do you think you’re going?” Bruce questioned.

She shifted so she was no longer resting on his chest, but laying on her side beside him so she could see his face.

“I just wanted to look at you,” she whispered innocently.

Bruce smirked at her answer.

Y/N made sure the bed sheet was successfully covering her nudity.

Bruce seemed amused with her sudden modesty, but said nothing of it.

“How did you find me here?” Y/N asked him.

It had been the first thing she’d wanted to ask when he showed up to her door last night. But Bruce hadn’t exactly given her a lot of space to speak last night.

Bruce’s jaw tightened, which was a message in its own. 

“Bruceeeee,” Y/N pushed back with irritation.

“You aren’t going to like the answer.”

She glared at him. “Did you put a fucking tracker on me, Bruce Wayne?”

“Your phone.”

“When?” She asked.

“After you tried to turn yourself in to the Talons.”

Y/N sighed, clearly annoyed by the answer.

They both knew she could easily disable it now that she knew about it. Even if he hadn’t confessed it, she would’ve figured it out on her own eventually.

“You’re upset,” Bruce observed.  

“How would you feel if I did the same to you? But it’s…you. And I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Need I remind you that we only met because you blackmailed me and threatened to expose my identity to the world?”

“You know that wasn’t the same,” she shot back as she rolled her eyes. 

“You’re right.” Bruce sighed. “I promise I will deactivate it.”

“No,” Y/N surprised him by saying. “But I will make you a deal…you can always know where I am if I can know the same for you.”

Bruce knew this was a test. Because Y/N expected him to immediately shoot down such an offer. Couldn’t such information be used against Batman?

“Deal,” he agreed.

Y/N was so shocked by his compliance that her overwhelming emotions forced her to lean into him and capture his lips in a kiss.

“Should I make us breakfast?” She whispered to him after barely pulling away from his lips. 

She lightly bumped her nose against his. 

Bruce nodded with a grin.

But before Y/N could ask what he wanted, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Her heart raced at the thought of another intrusion – and a less welcomed one.  

Bruce frowned, but remained calm.

“Stay here,” he warned before placing a light kiss on her bare shoulder.

Before she could argue, he slipped out of bed.

He put his boxer briefs on, but didn’t bother with a shirt or pants.

Even though Bruce told Y/N to stay put, she still figured a mysterious knock on the door was a sign to put clothes on.

She practically threw on her underwear, but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing she had on yesterday. Yet somehow she found Bruce’s white button down and quickly buttoned on to give herself some semblance of decency.

Bruce looked through the peephole. 

He held his breath.

Bruce would’ve rather it been an attempted attack on Y/N than…this.

“Y/N, I know you’re there,” Dick called from the other side of the door.

Bruce knew she couldn’t hear him. But he knew there was no other choice than to open the door.

Bruce looked apathetic as he faced his first protégé.

But Dick knew Bruce well enough to see that there was guilt hidden underneath.

He took in Bruce’s attire – or really, the lack there of.

Dick huffed out a laugh, “Of course. I should’ve known better.”

He shook his head and turned to leave.

Bruce slammed the door shut and rubbed his face in distress.

Before he could even think of something to say to Y/N, she rushed past him and threw the door open again.

“Dick! Wait!” Y/N called to him and caught him in the hallway.

By some miracle, Dick stopped and turned to her.

He looked her up and down, lingering far too long on the white button down she was wearing that so clearly belonged to Bruce.

“Needed some time alone, huh?” 

Throwing Y/N’s own words back at her was meant to come out harsh and cold. But it ended up sounding heartbroken and betrayed.

And, honestly, that was worse to Y/N.

She have any idea what to say to him.

What would even make him feel better?

So, Y/N just watched Dick slowly walk away.

She stepped back into the safe house with tears in her eyes.

Bruce immediately moved to her. 

“Y/N–”

But Y/N shook her head, stopping him from saying anything more.

“I should go,” Bruce told her. 

He couldn’t help himself as he reached to wipe her tears away.

“I should probably give you your shirt back,” she said between sniffles.

Had the situation been different, it would’ve sounded funny. 

But there was no humor here. 

Bruce’s innocent touch of wiping her tears away made it hard for Y/N to concentrate.

So she escaped into the bedroom and quickly changed into her own clothes.

When she walked back out, she had all of Bruce’s stuff in her arms.

Once Bruce was in his clothes again, he didn’t know what to do or say next.

It was hard for Bruce to leave Y/N when she was so visibly upset. Dick wasn’t here to make Y/N feel better this time...and that was all Bruce’s fault.

“I’m not used to saying bye to you,” Y/N finally broke the tension.

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

A sad look flashed across her face as she processed her thoughts. “Usually I wake up…and you’re gone. You don’t even give me a chance to.”

Bruce bowed his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have done that to you,” he finally admitted to her.

Y/N nodded slowly, agreeing with him.

“But you did,” she whispered. 

Her voice sounded congested from all the tears she just shed. 

“And all this time, I let myself think it was OK or even that I was the one who had messed it all up.”

Bruce quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N.”

Her eyes darkened. “Why did you have to make it so hard to stay away from you, Bruce?”

An he knew he deserved that. “I’ve been selfish,” he confessed.

Bruce hesitated before giving her a slow kiss on the cheek.

It was the first time Y/N had ever seen him unsure of himself.

Without saying anything more, he turned and left.

“Goodbye, Bruce.” Y/N whispered long after he could still hear her.

----------------------------------------

Part XI

Did I ruin your life? Let me know 😂

[soldrawss]

Sol i need headcanons for the brothers, please im begging you

BRUH I GOT YOU

I’m currently working on some little fics for them BUT I CAN GIVE YOU SOME DETAILS BECAUSE I’M DYING TO SHARE

(Warning, gets a little dark towards the middle, but overall fine. Sorry for the long read. I went for a DEEP dive on the Age Gap Au)

Ace was put into foster care 4 hours after his birth. His father died before he was born and his mother died during childbirth. Ace had nothing to his name but physical traits of the dead (Like his father's sharp eyes and his mother’s freckles) He grew up with a need to prove himself and to gain something that truly belonged to him all on his own.

Sabo was placed in foster care when he was 5 because of an altercation with his abusive and possesive parents, involving him having broken ribs and running away.

Ace and Sabo met in a halfway home for troubled youths when they were 6. (They both had issues with authority and past placements in foster homes, so they quickly bonded over that, and decided to stick together ever since)

Their bond was so strong that ‘honorary’ brothers didn’t really fit them. They were brothers. And they stuck together and stood up for one another like it was them against the world (which sometimes it was)

They would often run away from the halfway home they were at, trying to earn a living on their own on the streets, and often commit petty thefts in order to survive. 

These little runaway trips wouldn’t last long though, because they were always caught by Officer Garp, a police officer that happened to have a knack for catching little runaways.

However tough Garp acted though, he had an incredibly big soft spot for these two little brats that were only trying to make their lives better. These two kids, barely 8 years old, who had so much hatred for the world because of adults in their lives that failed them. Adults that hurt them, giving them scars and bruises on their hearts just as easily as the scars and bruises on the little frames. 

After a particular runaway incident, Ace breaks down and confesses about all the horrible placements he and Sabo had been in before. How social services always judge Ace’s sharp eyes and label in a problem child, how Sabo’s quick wit always get him in trouble with the adults, how they both have scars and bruises from past foster homes they were placed in, and that's why Ace and Sabo runaway. They’re tired of getting placed in bad homes. They’re tired of having adults try to separate them. Ace is all Sabo has and vice versa because that's the only person in the whole world who they trust to not hurt them. And Garp thinks that’s the last fucking straw.

Garp, much to Ace and Sabo’s but nobody else’s surprise, adopts both the boys, and takes them into his own home. Because dammit, if they’re just gonna runaway, they might as well stay with someone who will at least love them enough to always look for them and bring them back to a good home when they do.

And it’s weird at first, because Garp is the rough and loud and nosey officer that used to grab them by the scruffs of their shirts and drag them back to that awful halfway home kicking and screaming. But then it gets better. Because he still yells at them, but it’s with a tempered and fiercely protective love it when he does. He still grabs them, but it’s just to pull them into a rough bear hug that they fervently pretend they don’t like. And every dinner is spent with tears of laughter in their eyes and cheeks warm with delight at the stories he tells them. (They call him old man with affection and he’s their father figure even though they treat him like their grandpa.)

Sabo joins his school’s baseball team! Which is so freaking cool! He’s a really strong batter, can weild a bat like it’s an extension of his own arm, and Ace and Garp are always the loudest cheers on the bleachers every home run hit Sabo makes.

Garp makes Ace take up boxing, because the kid’s got a lot of pent-up rage and aggression, and he figures it’s a good constructive sort of therapy for the rowdy brat.

The two still get up to mischief every now and again, though. Nothing illegal, but Garp is still having to wrangle up his two little idiots before they do something stupid. (They get into a lot of fights with local gangs because they have smart mouths and are still a little reckless)

Garp has a biological son that Ace and Sabo never met due to Garp’s and Dragon’s strained relationship. Garp had always bad-mouthed him whenever his son was brought up, but it was always with words that had no heat behind them, and Sabo and Ace could tell there was a sadness behind his eyes whenever he looked at the picture of his son in his wallet.

The boys were 10 when they got the news of Dragon’s death a week after it happened. Garp had gotten the phone call when he and the boys were watching some late-night trash tv on the weekend, and he had all but strangled the phone in a grip that turned his knuckles white. He didn’t say what had killed his son, (he never did), but he had told the boys he needed to take care of something, told them to pack up some of their things, dropped them off at his friend Newgate’s house, and got the quickest flight out that night.

He came back 3 days later, and when he did, he had a tiny little baby with him.

Ace and Sabo were no strangers to babies. There was always some snot-nosed kid that would get dropped off at the halfway home (and then adopted that week, because everybody loved babies), and they were pretty sure this baby wasn’t gonna be any different. Because babies were loud and gross and never stopped crying, and Ace and Sabo were prepared for the absolute worse.

But then they stood over the baby’s crib to get a good look at him, and the baby looked back.

And smiled the biggest and happiest smile Ace and Sabo had ever seen.

And Garp had said “His name is Luffy,” and Ace and Sabo had been hooked around his little finger ever since. 

Luffy was barely 6 months old, and was a bundle of chubby cheeks and contagious giggles. With big brown chocolate colored eyes that melted all the sharp corners and edges of Ace’s and Sabo’s hearts.

Because Sabo and Ace were the same age, and neither one of them felt like the older or younger brother. They were equals in every way. But it was different with Luffy. Because Luffy was tiny, and soft and could barely wrap all 5 of his little fingers around one of theirs, and it hit Sabo and Ace like a bullet train because oh.

 Oh this is what it was like to be an older brother. This was what it was like to have a little brother. And Sabo and Ace have always looked out for each other, of course. But Luffy was something they had to protect fully and with their entire being. His smile, his laughter, his heart. All of it. Sabo and Ace knew all the horrible things in the world, knew all the hatred and fear and heartbreak the world could throw at you and it was like a silent promise to each other they never verbalized, that Luffy should and would never have to go through the things they went through. He would never feel unloved. He would never feel unwanted. He would never feel like he had to prove his worth or reason for existing. (He was worth more than any price anyone could give anyway)

Sabo and Ace stopped getting into trouble. They got good grades, excelled in their respective clubs, and didn’t give Garp any reason to chase them down in his old cop car and bring them home. (They were always at home anyway, giving Luffy piggyback rides and teaching him how to ride a bike and do one-handed handstands and cartwheels, and basking in the warmth that was Luffy’s endless love) And they lived in peace like that for 5 years.

Then the fire happened.

Garp was a good police officer and an even better Deputy Chief, and for almost 40 years, he served on the Foosha County Police Department. He had put away a lot of bad guys and saved a lot of people in the process and was an honored and highly respected man. However, this also made him a big target and earned him quite a few enemies. He was 3 weeks away from retirement and spending most of those weeks staying at home, playing with Luffy, and ingnoring the last of his paperwork left on his office desk.

When the fire broke out, Ace and Sabo had just turned the corner from the bus stop on their way home from school. They had seen the smoke, but didn’t know where it was coming from till they saw the towering blaze of fire that used to be their 2 story home and the group of neighbors surrounding the outside. 

They managed to push their way to the front, hands shaking and eyes wide and absolutely breathless, because that was their house! That was their house that was one fire and where was gramps?! Where was Luffy?!

The only thing Ace heard Sabo whisper among the roar of the fire and the loud murmur of people around them was “Do you hear that? That... crying?” Before Sabo surged forward.

Ace didn’t have time to reach out and stop him, and by the time he could, Sabo had already disappeared into the open front door, which was covered in flames. He had screamed out, tried to race in and follow his brother into the flames, but the neighbors around him were quicker than he was and pulled him back. 

Edward Newgate, one of their neighbors and close personal friend of Garp’s was in the crowd, and he was holding Ace to his chest with an arm like an iron bar, as he was on the phone with the local fire department. (Newgate was also the Foosha County fire chief, and was shouting at his lieutenants to “get your asses out here now!’) But Ace didn’t hear a word he was saying. All he could do was struggle to get out of the older man’s grip, reach out for his brother and best friend, and scream his lungs out.

What felt like hours went by, and Ace felt like his heart was shattering into a million piece, the glass shards falling around him, as he sobbed into Newgate's chest, thinking he had lost everything. His home. His family. His only purpose and reason for living.

And then some of the neighbors were shouting again, only this time in surprised alarm and Ace looked up with hazy eyes blurred by tears, to see something was coming out of the front door.

And it could only be Sabo. Ace knew it was him before he could even register it, and bolted out of Newgate's grips that had slacked at the surprise and towards his brother.

Ace met Sabo only a few feet from the door, Sabo collapsing into his arms, and Ace had to pull him the extra few feet away because the flames were still too much to bear even at that distance.

And Sabo’s skin was hot and red and covered in smoke and ash alike. There was a giant welting red burn against the side of Sabo’s face that looked like it would leave a scar forever, but Ace was having a hard time focusing on it because he was too bust focusing on the bundle of blankets that Sabo was desperately trying to push into Ace’s arms.

And Ace was already crying before, but he began crying even harder when he removed the fold of blankets to reveal a muffled Luffy, covered in ash but unharmed, crying his eyes out. 

Sabo had a coughing fit that rocked his whole body, and burns that looked like they'd hurt forever, but he was smiling when Ace broke into a sob, clutching both Sabo and Luffy into his chest.

The firefighters and paramedics came a few minutes later, and they had to physically pull Sabo and Luffy from Ace’s arms to check and treat them. Luffy only ended up with a few mild burns and cuts on his arms and legs and some burning of his throat from inhaling so much smoke, but Sabo had to be taken to the hospital immediately for his burns, especially for the one on his face. Ace pleaded to let them all ride in the same ambulence on the way to the hosipital, and held on to Sabo’s shirt sleeve with a grip that would take the end of the world and then some for him to let go.

Sabo had to get some surgery and treatment to save his left eye, but he was all in all ok, and Ace and Luffy were allowed to visit his hospital room for as long as they needed.

When Ace finally confronted Sabo on why he had ran into the house in the first place, it was on the first night of their hospital stay. Sabo had a giant white gauze wrapping half of his head, and he looked at Ace with tired blue eyes that looked a little fuzy, still a little drugged from all the medication he was on to ease the pain. 

And Ace felt bad about it, he really did, because Sabo didn’t derserve to be grilled on the matter. Not after he had sacrificed himself and saved Luffy. Their little brother. Their little brother who they wouldn’t even have anymore if it weren’t for Sabo. 

But Ace had to know. He was so mad and heartbroken and scared out of his mind when Sabo had rushed in without word or warning. Because they had lost Garp. They had almost lost Luffy. And Ace could have almost lost Sabo too.

But Luffy was tucked underneath Sabo’s arm on the hospital bed, and Sabo just smiled at Ace with a patience that only Ace and Luffy could pull out of him, and patted the other side for Ace to join them. Ace climbed onto the bed beside him, and even with the two 15-year-olds and one little 5 year old, the bed didn’t feel too small at all.

Sabo explained that he could hear crying from the door and he just moved. Knowing it was Luffy before his mind could really think about the implications behind that. He confessed how the flames hurt at first. Hurt so bad, and it was so hot, and everything, from the floor to the ceiling, was on fire and he could barely see anything through the smoke. But he could hear Luffy’s little rough and horse scream, coming from one of the back rooms that used to be Garp's office, and suddenly all Sabo could afford to think about was Luffy’s crying.

Sabo would tell a watered-down version of this story to the cops in the morning, because they were Garp's friend and companions, and they only really needed the broad details for their report anyway. 

He’ll tell a heroic version of this story, lacking any horrific graphics, to an older Luffy whenever the eternally curious kid wonders and asks about it.

But he only ever told the whole story right then on that night, one arm tight around his baby brother in a toothed and protective love, while the other one gripped his best friend's hands with shaking and bandaged fingers hard enough to leave bruising.

Garp was long dead when Sabo found him. The smell of his skin burning off is something that will haunt Sabo for the rest of his life. (Sometimes certain smells will set him off. Uncooked bacon is not allowed in the house anymore after one traumatic morning when Luffy is six. Campfires are viewed and enjoyed from a distance.)

He was lying on his stomach, clutching something to his chest. Sabo knew it was Luffy by the cries, bundled up in a few quilts and one of this office rugs, and Sabo knew he had to get them out of there before the smoke killed them off like it had a personal agenda against them.

The heat was unbearable, Sabo had confessed, but it was nothing compared to having to drag Luffy from underneath Garp’s grip. The old man was built like a brick house, sure, but even in death, his grip on Luffy, protecting Luffy, like he was daring the world to take anything away from him, was steadfast and almost unbbreakable. 

It was the hardest thing Sabo had ever had to make himself do.

He didn’t look at Garp’s face. His body was burned black and bloody and raw, and Sabo couldn’t live with himself if his memory of Garp’s face was replaced by anything other than with the one of his scruffy beard and the shit-eating grin that he always wore.

When he pulled Luffy out, he didn’t look back, and raced out of the house as fast as he could. Something along the way fell and smacked him in the face, knocking him down at one point, but Sabo couldn’t pay it much mind. He got back up, and continued towards the door. He could barely see, barely breathe, with all the smoke and the ash, and the pain from the fire was almost numbing against his skin, but he didn’t stop.

All he could think about was Luffy, still struggling and crying against the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Next thing he knew, he was outside, and looking up at Ace’s snot-covered face.

Ace had never seen Sabo cry for the almost 10 years he knew him. He didn’t cry when he was 7, and the Anderson family had called him a freak and had sent him back after a failed foster home placement. He didn’t cry when he was 9, and broke his arm falling out of the tree in their backyard that Garp had told him not to climb, so of course he had to climb it. And he didn’t even cry earlier that day, at 15, when he was off medication and feeling the full extent of his painful burns.

So when tears started pooling out of Sabo’s pale blue eyes, falling down his cheeks and staining the cotton white blanket he was under as he told his story, Ace pretended not to notice, wrapped an arm around Sabo’s shoulders, and held him like it was the only lifeline in the world. 

Garp’s funeral was held the following week. Closed casket. All the police departments in the county, and even some outside of it, showed up to give him a full send-off. Ace cried for both Sabo and himself. Sabo spoke a few words for the both of them. And Luffy stood between them, holding both their hands. They explained the night before that gramps was gone, but they don’t think the notion of death really got through to Luffy. He was crying, but only because Ace was crying, and when he asked ‘can gramps come out of the box to give me a hug before he goes away?’ everyone has to clench their teeth and hold their breaths to stop their hearts from breaking. Sabo kneeled down to wrap Luffy in a tight hug. Ace covered his face with his arm and cried harder

(They never bother asking Luffy about how the fire started, or what happened that day. Luffy doesn’t remember, and they don’t push it further. The truth isn’t as important as Luffy’s mentality is, but Garp’s old squad promises that they won’t rest until they get to the bottom of it. And as much as Ace and Sabo want justice and revenge, they have Luffy to think about, so they leave it up to the police)

Sabo and Ace are almost 16, and they suddenly have no parental figure, no home, no anything, and suddenly they’re faced with the horrible notion that even more can be taken from them when a blast from their past threatens to take Luffy away from them too.

They’re no stranger to the foster care system, so when social services show up at the motel they were renting with Garp’s savings, they feel their hearts drop to their stomach for fear of the very real possibility that Luffy will be placed in immediate foster care, and possibly, so would they. 

Ace and Sabo jump into action then, because no way, no fucking way, were they gonna lose Luffy. They had lost everything else. They almost did lose Luffy. They weren’t gonna risk that chance again.

Ace was only a few weeks older than Sabo. Sabo hadn’t paused a second to jump into the fire, risking life and limb, to protect what little they had. It was Ace’s turn to be the heroic older brother. And on the day he turned 16, Ace petitioned legal guardianship and parental rights for Sabo and Luffy.

And it was hard, because of course the courts felt sorry for him, the grandson of one of the best police chiefs in the county’s history, begging the courts to let him keep what little family he had left together. The courts wanted to give it to him, wanted to help him. But Luffy was a child. And Ace and Sabo were practically still kids themselves. Asking kids to raise themselves was something no one should ask them to do. 

But Ace and Sabo fought for it. Ace was 16, and Sabo would be 16 soon enough. They could get GED’s, no problem. They’d get jobs, get a little apartment near Luffy’s school, attend any parenting and child service meeting required of them. They’d buy all the necessities over again and they’d love Luffy where no other foster family could even compare. They’d do everything, everything and anything, to keep Luffy. To let them stay together.

With a couple of vouchers from Garp’s old police squad, including one from an overly enthusiastic Edward Newgate and one from the boy’s homeroom teacher, Makino, the courts ruled in Ace’s and Sabo’s favor, and Luffy was officially theirs until they proved that Luffy was better off somewhere else.

Ace and Sabo were never gonna let that happen.

They got a little 2 bedroom apartment a couple blocks from Luffy’s elementary. They quit school, and worked extra hard to earn their GED’s within the following months. (With the help of their old teachers and a few of their overly enthusiastic neighbors)

Ace got a job at the local fire department, as a rookie in training under Newgate.

Sabo got a job at the local news station, writing reports on top of his interning duties. 

Ace eventually got a motorcycle that same year, which scared Sabo half to death and delighted Luffy to no end. It was cheaper than a car, and easier to travel to and from work on, and no matter how hard Sabo tried, he couldn’t come up with a valid reason why Ace shouldn’t use it to their advantage. So Sabo made Ace promise to always wear a helmet when riding it, and that Luffy wasn’t allowed to ride it until he was much older. (Which Luffy pouted about to no end)

And it’s hard at times, both of them working overtime just to make enough to support themselves and keep them afloat, but it’s good, and it’s theirs.

Luffy makes a friend on his first day of first grade named Zoro Roronoa, another kid that lives just across the street from them, and when Ace and Sabo know they’re gonna be late in getting home, Luffy goes over there and hangs out until they can pick him up (Which is totally fine with Zoro’s father Koushirou, a kendo teacher and single father of 6-year-old Zoro and 9-year-old Kuina. Zoro has a bit of a personality problem and often has trouble making friends (because the child doesn’t see a need to) so when little bright-eyed and endlessly joyful Luffy pops into their life, Kushirou jumps at the chance to have him over as much as possible, because the two small children seem to bring out the best in each other, and are best friends attached at the hip) Sabo and Ace are eternally grateful to the kind man)

A few years go by, and Luffy is 8. Ace is still working at the fire station and is now legally allowed to join them on calls and emergencies. (Fire used to make Ace nervous, because he almost lost everything to it. Now he has a personal agenda with it, to make sure it doesn’t take anything from anyone else)

Sabo has moved up the ranks now, and when he turns 18, confronts Ace with a rare job opportunity he was offered.

“It’s a year-long internship for this really cool company that reports and delivers high-class diplomatic information around,” Sabo starts, rubbing the back of his head like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “I’d be working as like, a cool undercover spy with diplomatic immunity and a messenger bag. It’s not dangerous at all, and pays almost triple my paycheck now, which would really help us out. But it’s overseas, and I’d be gone for a whole year. You’d be raising Luffy all by yourself, birthdays and holidays and skinned knees, with just the two of you, so say the word, and I’ll totally turn this job down on the spot.”

And it’s scary to Ace. Because he hasn’t been alone since he was 6 years old, and he can’t possibly remember a time when Sabo hadn’t been by his side. His best friend and brother. It was always the two of them. Two little runaways that found a home, lost that home, and then built a new home all on their own despite it all. And neither of them had ever been away from Luffy for longer than a weekend, so Ace was sure it would kill Sabo to be away from them for so long.

But he also knew that Sabo was only playing this off like it wasn’t a big deal, when in fact it was the job opportunity of a lifetime for someone like Sabo, a kid who breathed adventure and freedom with every breath. And that when he talked about it, his eyes sparkled with a joy that Ace would hate himself forever for taking it away. 

Sabo was giving Ace the choice, and Ace knew that Sabo would go along with whatever Ace decided without a second thought or complaint. But Ace knew that Sabo would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't go, so he slugged Sabo in the arm, gave him his best shit-eating, confident grin, (the kind he used to give him right before they were about to steal some food as kids, or about to get into a fight when they were teens) and said, “You let me have a motorcycle. The least I can do is let you go road tripping abroad.”

Because Ace and Luffy would be fine. They’d miss Sabo like crazy, and Ace was pretty sure Sabo was like, 90% of his impulse control, but they’d survive. Sabo had the burn marks to prove how far he was willing to go for their family, and Ace had never thanked him for that. Ace was never gonna live that down, and was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to both Sabo AND Luffy, and prove just how good of an older brother he could be. This was the least he could do for them.

[stillebesat]

An Unconventional Defeat

Sanders Sides: Patton, Virgil Blurb: Patton knew that heroes started out young, far younger than villains ever did. But this young? Inspiration: From the Anon prompt: “I can take care of myself just fine.” with Virgil. Fic Type: Superhero!AU, Villain!Patton, Hero!Virgil Overall Fic Warnings: Near Death Experiences, Death Talk, Injuries, Hospitals Taglist in Reblogs:

He’s fourteen.

Patton stared down at the prone form of his nemesis, Onyx, in the darkened hospital room, mind racing.

He knew that heroes started out young, far younger than villains ever did. But this young?

Sure, that no good empathy that the heart twinged with seemed to chime all stronger for the children. For those naive fools who were still optimistic about life and wanted to believe that good would always win out in the end. That being good was the best way to live your life. That you could change the world for the better.

Patton had been a fool like that. Once.

He’d wanted to be a teacher. Once. Be an example to the rising generation. Once.

And then he’d had his eyes forcibly opened in college to just how cruel and heartless the world actually was. Goodness only got trampled. Squashed. Taken advantage of. Goodness only got used until it wasn’t useful anymore and then got dumped like so much trash. If one wanted to change the world permanently. One couldn’t do so by being good.

Kids though?

The poor fools didn’t realize that yet. That being good wasn’t well...good. For anyone. Hero work? Pointless. Especially with how active Patton was in the city.

Hero work didn’t put food on the table. Hero work didn’t pay the bills. It was a thankless never ending job.

A job that landed a fourteen year old in the hospital with head trauma, a broken leg, arm, fractured ribs, and multiple puncture wounds in the shoulders and abdomen that had only avoided killing the kid by sheer dumb luck.

A fourteen year old that Patton had been fighting for a good three years now, not that he’d known that until nine hours ago.

Onyx had always snarked at him in a deep distorted voice, had always been covered by an ever shifting melee of shadows that never showed just who was manipulating the darkness around him.

He growled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. Eleven. The kid had been freaking eleven when he’d first shown up to stop Patton from razing the police department to the ground.

No wonder Onyx had been so ferocious in defending the place. He’d still been of an age to see the cops as fellow heroes. The good guys. He hadn’t yet discovered their darker side. Just how much like school ground bullies most of them could be to the weak.

Patton clenched his hands, conscious of the frost coating his fingertips, of the room getting noticeably colder. “You’re an idiot.” He told the sleeping hero in a low voice, tensing as the shadows sluggishly stirred at the sound of his voice. “Ruining everything.”

He’d been trying to take down Onyx for ages. Perfecting the best way to use his ice bolts to freeze those shadows of his once and for all. It had been the best moment of his life seeing the hulking figure finally stagger when his ice had successfully pierced through the darkness and not fly out the other end. To know that they had stuck. To see those dark wisps vanish like so much smoke as the hero plummeted from the sky. To have a crater form from the impact that left a dust cloud floating in the air with no hint whatsoever of his shadows preparing to strike back.

It had been his greatest moment of triumph. The final defeat of his main nemesis.

An icy javelin had already formed in his hands, aimed for Onyx’s heart before Patton’s feet had even hit the ground.

But instead of the square jawed overly muscled hero he’d expected to finally see underneath that murky shadow disguise...he’d found a freaking child laying there, bleeding, broken, and unconscious.

One Virgil Hawkins. Fourteen years old. Orphan. Parents dead since he was nine. Grandmother dead since he was eleven though apparently no one else had realized that little tidbit yet besides Patton because he’d actually tried to find the woman last night after he’d rushed the boy to the hospital for emergency surgery only to discover the little urn with her name on it on the mantle of the fireplace in her home.

It was one thing to kill a Hero. And Patton...well he’d done in his fair share of heroes over the last decade. But killing a child? His heart might be cold. Frozen even. But as much as he itched to end Onyx the hero permanently...ending Virgil the child was an entirely different matter.

Not that anyone would know. Not that anyone would care if Virgil vanished the same evening Onyx died. He could freeze the kid’s heart here and now and not even the staff supposedly watching the boy would think much of it, injured as he was.

Patton frowned, breath misting in front of him as he held out an ice coated hand over the child, an icicle easily forming in his fist.

It would be so easy.

Who would care about the disappearance of a single boy? One who was practically a ghost in his civilian life. Certainly not the news. Certainly not the cops the kid had risked his life to defend. A kid only surviving as it were because he’d been clever enough to keep his grandma’s social security checks coming to the house as a source of income.

No one would notice if he just...vanished. Not even the school the kid attended would. Not when they couldn’t even tell him if he’d shown up yesterday for class.

No concerned teacher. No concerned counselor. No friends to worry about him suddenly vanishing. Not even the staff here in the hospital cared enough to keep more than a cursory eye on their John Doe as the police attempted to track down the boy’s nonexistent family.

Virgil had no one.

Patton let the icicle dissolve back into his skin, his hand lightly resting on the boy’s warm forehead, fingers lightly brushing the stitches there.

No one to pay the hospital bills. No one to look after him once he was released. No one to ensure that he had food, clothes and shelter. No one to stop him from being a fu-freaking idiot and going out to attack a villain old enough to be his Father.

Patton shuddered, pulling his hand back. Crofters forbid that. Teenagers were the worst. Onyx only proved that tenfold with how easily he’d wound up Patton in their fights. To have one living in his own home? With their constant mood swings, inability to do chores, and dependence on social media? Ha. No.

A groan from the bed drew him from his thoughts right as the shadows around the bed surged at him, latching onto his arm and jerking him forward with a startled yelp.

“Cold.” A hoarse voice whispered as pale fingers shakily rose from under the blanket, twisting to catch Patton’s wrist as the shadows pulled him within reach. Onyx’s eyelids fluttered as he placed Patton’s hand on his forehead. “Cold.”

Was he insane?! Patton growled, the temperature in the room dropping another ten degrees as he struggled against Onyx’s shadow grip. “Let. Go!”

The hero had the gall to smirk, dark eyes unfocused as he opened them fully, the shadows pulsing around them. “No way, Icy.” He whispered. “You cold. Feels good. You stay.”

WHAT?! He wasn’t an icepack! “I’ll freeze your burning head off! LET GO, you idiot!” He allowed a thin layer of ice to form under his hand to prove his point. It was bad enough that Onyx could match him throw for throw on a good day, it was worse knowing that a fu--freaking half-drugged teenager could still hold him with minimal effort.

Virgil closed his eyes, stupid smile growing wider. “Rubber. Glue. Back to you.”

Patton blinked. “Huh?” What was that supposed to mean?! This was why he hated teenagers. They didn’t make a lick of sense whenever they spoke.

“You’re the idiot here.” Virgil dropped his hand, the shadows releasing their grip. “Coming in uniform? To a hospital? To see me? For shame.”

Patton scoffed, taking a step back. He wasn’t some first year amateur to walk in the front door dressed like this. “Like I care if anyone sees me, kid.”

If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t afford to let anyone see him actually caring about anyone’s welfare, especially some ‘random’ kid found on the street after the big fight with Onyx, he would have blasted the front doors off their hinges and made a grand entrance instead of manipulating the ice of his clothes to resemble simple civilian attire before sauntering inside, no questions asked. After all, no one ever looked twice at some guy walking around in a black shirt and blue jeans, not even in a hospital.

Though. He flexed his fingers. It wasn’t like it was outside his wheelhouse to freeze people to death if they got in his way.

Onyx frowned, the shadows pulsing as he opened his eyes again, making eye contact. “No...you wouldn’t would you….why are you here--No.” The darkness gathered underneath him, carefully carefully pushing the kid upright in the hospital bed. He hissed, uninjured arm moving to wrap around his stomach. “Why am I here and not dead, Icy?”

Patton lifted his chin, glaring at the hero. “Did you want to be dead?” He asked, hefting a javelin of ice in his hand.

The teenager had the gall to roll his eyes, though Patton didn’t miss how the shadows surged around him in a protective shield. “Missed your chance, buddy. Don’t tell me your frozen heart actually thawed a little during our fight.”

“No.” Patton jabbed at the shadows, not at all surprised when they easily shattered his weapon with a quick twist.

So the kid wasn’t as out of it as his dilated eyes made it seem. Good to know.

“So I’m alive then….why?”

Why did it matter? “You’re fourteen.”

Virgil scoffed, slowly moving the arm that was in a cast so it too rested against his stomach. “So? You’ve killed kids before.”

Patton stiffened, ice flashing from his feet to cover the floor like a mini ice rink. Did the boy honestly not care about his own life?! “You shouldn’t have been fighting me in the first place, Onyx! You’re a kid. A Fu-FREAKING KID. Your biggest worry should be passing some stupid Math test! Making friends in school. Not squaring up against the worst villain the city has ever seen!” A villain that always, always killed his nemeses no matter what.

Virgil huffed, spreading his arms, the shadows twisting around them. “Last time I checked, this kid could wipe your ass into the dirt without breaking a sweat. I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.”

“But you shouldn’t HAVE to.” This wasn’t some stupid dystopian novel. No normal eleven year old should have such a stupidly high Chosen One complex.

“And who’s fault is it that I have to, Icemas?” Virgil’s eyes practically glittered like obsidian shards as the shadows lifted him off the bed, turning him to face Patton properly, the machines squeaking in protest as the various tubes connecting them to the hero shifted out of alignment. “No one else was stepping up. No one else would face you.”

“That’s the point!” Patton hissed, shooting a ray of ice to the door, crystals covering the window there and locking it in place so no one else would be able to investigate the alarms going off, before stepping forward to jab a finger at the boy’s chest, though he was careful to not actually touch the wounds there or send any ice bolts at him. “I’m showing everyone that being a hero is a useless archaic practice! No one should have to risk their life day in and day out for complete strangers who will never appreciate your sacrifice! If you had died tonight, Virgil, who would have cared?! The media? Ha.” He shook his head, gesturing to the blank TV screen in the corner as the shadows pulled back to quiver behind the young hero. “They’d mourn you for maybe a week tops before moving onto the next sensational story, the next stupid hero trying to make a difference. Maybe, maybe they will name some shiny new building after you, to remember you by, but then what? NOTHING. You’d be DEAD before you could ever drive and it would have all been for naught!”

Virgil frowned, shadows lowering him so he was sitting on the bed. “...You know my name?”

Patton stiffened. That’s what the kid was worried about? Him figuring out his civilian identity instead of nearly dying?! That was so messed up. “Someone had to try and track down your family, kid. The idiots here weren’t gonna do it.”

The hero had the gall to grin, though Patton didn’t miss how his fingers clenched the sheets. “Aww, well isn’t that sweet of you, Popsicle. How did that go?” He tilted his head to the iced over door where distant voices could be heard as the handle rattled. “Good old mom and dad waiting outside to see me? To check in on how their ickle Virgikins is doing?”

Teenagers. He hated them. “You know they aren’t. You have no one.”

Something flickered in the boy’s eyes. “Oh! Then let me guess.” He rested his chin on his uninjured hand. “You let the staff know I’m on my own? Do I get the oh so fun opportunity to experience our stellar A+ foster care system now?”

Patton rolled his eyes, shooting another bolt of ice at the door for good measure. “Please. They still think you’re a John Doe.” The lazy bums were waiting for him to wake up first. Hoping that Virgil would tell them who he was before trying to track down his identity or family.

“Excellent.” Virgil gave the door an appraising look. “Think they’ll believe amnesia?”

Patton blinked. “....Do you not feel the stitches holding your head together?” Or the baseball sized lump on the back of his skull from hitting the pavement?

The hero shrugged. “Honestly?” The shadows pulsed around him. “It’s all kinda fuzzy agony currently. Can’t differentiate what parts of me hurt and what doesn’t.”

How was this kid even awake?! Patton stepped forward, pushing the boy back down flat on the bed. “Then REST before you hurt yourself further, idiot.”

“Aw, love you too, Popsicles.”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.” He would never be a fu-freaking Father to anyone.

“Or what?” Virgil relaxed against the pillows, even as his hand twisted to catch Patton’s wrist again. “You’ll kill me?”

If he wanted to do that the kid would be dead already. Patton jerked free, another ice spear forming in his hand, pointed to the boy’s throat. “No.”

“Aw. You scared to?”

“NO. I’m not killing a KID. Our fights are done with, Virgil. No more Onyx. He’s DEAD.”

The boy scoffed, pushing the spear to the side. “Last I checked, Icy,” The shadows surged over him in a swirling mass until the familiar shadowy form of Onyx stared back from the bed. “We’re the same person.” His voice echoed. “And I’m still alive and kicking.”

Ooooohoooho. Patton could feel his eye twitching as ice crept up the walls and window. If it were just Onyx he’d take great pleasure in killing the hero here and now. He itched to do so. But he couldn’t. Not with knowing that Virgil the child hid underneath the darkness. “I won’t fight you, kid.”

The shadows pulled back, revealing Virgil looking far paler than before, his face glittering with sweat. “Coward.”

“Idiot.” The kid needed to see a shrink. No normal fourteen year old would be this stubborn about wanting to constantly go up against him and face death by his hand!

“I know you are but what am I?”

The window shattered, sending frost covered glass glittering to the floor. “Hopefully grounded by the fool that ends up taking you in.” He got out through gritted teeth, ice particles shimmering in the air, ready to defend as the shadows around Onyx sprung up like a series of blackened tentacles writhing behind him.

He pitied whoever ended up with this troubled teen in their home…though...maybe he could arrange for the kid to be shipped across the country to live far far away from here. Getting out of this place could set him straight. Snap him out of this stupid hero phase he was in.

Virgil threw his head back, laughter ringing throughout the room as banging sounded from the door, the ice blockade cracking under the strain.

Judging by the way the ice was shearing off, someone with heat abilities had finally shown up.

Virgil shook his head, still grinning, though his eyes held no laughter as the shadow tentacles sharpened into jagged points, all aimed at Patton’s chest. “Oh that’s rich. Me, grounded? Like a normy would be able to stop me from coming after you the next time you decide to wreck the city.” He pushed himself up onto one elbow, jabbing his cast at Patton, the shadows quivering behind him like a pack of hunting dogs waiting to be unleashed as the temperature in the room dropped even further. “Face it, Popsicle. If you’re not gonna kill me then you’re stuck with me being your nemesis. If you want me to stop being the hero and keep me alive, then you have to stop being the villain. And we both know you’re not gonna do that. Your precious plan is too important to just give it up for my sake.”

And that was the crux of the matter wasn’t it? Patton snarled, raising his hands, the ice particles in the air morphing into a slew of arrows all directed towards the boy. He didn’t want to kill Virgil. But he couldn’t give up his plan. Give up being the villain. Not after a decade of fighting to get all those idealistic fools to see what a farce being a hero was. He was so close to winning. So close. “Fine.” He surged forward, grabbing the boy by the throat, ice arrows darting about to block the shadow tentacles of the kid’s from interfering. “You value my plan more than your pathetic life? Then you should--”

BANG.

The door behind them shattered, sending a heat wave full of shrapnel blasting into the room.

IDIOTS.

Patton whirled, flinging a wall of ice towards the figures in the doorway in an attempt to block the worst of the heat from outright killing Virgil then and there. IDIOTS! Did they not care at all that an already injured kid was in the ro---

A half melted silver door knob burst through the resulting steam before Patton could react to it, clocking him between the eyes with enough force to knock him backwards, his world vanishing into cold, silent darkness as the hospital floor rushed up to meet him.

[venicebixch]

Devil in Miami part 5

mostly just fluff and getting to know you type stuff in this one.

TWs: mentions of death, unaliving, and drug use. please lmk if i missed anything. enjoy :)

“What’s your last name?” I ask him.

He gives me a curious smile. “Hacker. What’s yours?”

“Y/l/n.”

“I like that,” he says.

I give him a playful side eye and drop my towel, sliding my clothes on from earlier. I climb under the covers with him and he extends him arm out, inviting me to cuddle with him. I move toward him and lay my head on his chest as he’s propped against the headboard of the bed.

“So you’re from Seattle?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Yes ma’am,” he nods.

“How’s your family situation?”

That may have been a prying way to ask but I want to get to the point with him.

“Um… complicated, I guess,” he says, pursing his lips.

“I just want to know more about you. I don’t know anything about you.”

He smiles down a me. “Well… I guess I can tell you. But only if you tell me about yourself next.”

I giggle. “Okay, deal. And don’t spare any dirty details, because I plan on being brutally honest.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Well. I guess to start, I grew up in Seattle. My dad was a cop, my mom was an accountant. I have a brother, Reggie. He lives in Boston now, he goes to college there. We’re pretty close nonetheless. He’s 2 years younger than me. I don’t have much family other than that. I mean I have my grandparents on my mom’s side. I don’t see them often in person but we stay in contact through phone calls.”

“You said ‘was’ with both of your parents. Are they still around?”

“No,” he sighs. “They both died when I was 15. My mom died in a car accident. It was snowing one night and there was a big pile up on the highway she got wrapped up in. My dad was one of the first responders to the scene and didn’t even know she was there until his coworkers found her. Obviously, he was devastated and fell into a really deep depression and ended up committing suicide a few months after she died.”

My heart sinks and I feel a wave of guilt wash over me over the fact I had hoped he came from a struggling background. Why would I wish that on him when he’s been so tolerant of me?

I grab his hand and loosely lace our fingers together. “I’m so, so sorry Vinnie,” I say softly.

He looks straight ahead, like he’s avoiding eye contact with me. “It’s okay. I mean it is what it is,” he shrugs. “After that, my grandparents took care of us.”

“How were they? Did they do okay for you guys?”

“I mean… they didn’t have a lot of money. My grandpa has a lot of health problems and my grandma is a pretty bad alcoholic. She got worse after my mom died. It really wasn’t the best situation. I love them and I would have rather us been with them than with strangers in the foster care system but it was hard. I pretty much raised my brother after that. As soon as Reggie turned 18 and went off to school, I fled Seattle and went to Cincinnati, Ohio for a year before moving here. I still support all of them financially but I just couldn’t stand to live in that city anymore.”

I nod. “I understand.”

“I guess that’s all there is to know, for now. That’s all the main stuff.”

“What led you to this lifestyle? What you do now?”

“Money. I just needed to make money anyway I could. I never really intended to end up in this lifestyle but that’s what happened. Quicker than I ever expected. I had a childhood friend who turned into a drug addict, but I still hung around him. I never did drugs myself but I met a lot of dealers through him. I ended up meeting this guy, Julio. We got to talking one night and over time, one thing led to the next and now here I am,” he says, looking down at me.

“And you just launder money?” I ask.

He nods. “Mostly. But sometimes I have to do other shit. Shit I really don’t want to do.”

“Like what?”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “I just do a lot of damage control for the group I work in. A lot of times, if something starts to go south, I have to step in and do whatever I can to stop it. It gets complicated and messy sometimes, but it’s a part of the deal. And it’s the main reason I make the big bucks,” he gestures to rest of the house.

“Did you go to college?” I ask.

“Yeah, I studied finance. I got an associates degree at a community college, nothing too fancy but it gave me the base knowledge I need to do what I do now. But enough about me. Let me hear about you.”

Ughh. I hate opening up to people.

“Well, my family situation is similar to yours in the way that I don’t have many people. Actually, I really only have my step mom and my sister, Cara. Cara is 4 years younger than me. My dad was a welder, my mom was a hairstylist.”

“Was?” He asks.

“Yeah. My dad died when I was 15, too. Actually, I think it would have been the same year your parents died if I’m doing the math right,” I say looking up at him. He has a sorrowful expression on his face.

“He overdosed,” I continue. “My mom isn’t dead… at least as far as I know. She ran off to California like 6 years ago, I haven’t spoken to her but maybe a handful of times since. They were both addicts. Well, my mom still is. Last I heard she was homeless living in Escondido. My parents broke up when I was younger, never married. My dad met Lisa and got married to her when I was 10. She’s not an addict but she’s got a lot of mental health problems. I love her though, she practically raised us.”

“I’m so sorry you went through all that,” he says, gently brushing my hair back.

“It’s okay. Like you said, it is what it is. At least I have my sister. We’re close. She’s not in college for anything but she’s doing okay. She’s a nail tech and actually makes decent money doing it. She’s really talented with it.”

“That’s good,” he gently kisses my forehead. “Did you go to college?”

“Nope. I thought about it but I couldn’t think of anything I want to do so I just didn’t bother.”

“What got you into what you do now?”

“Same as you. Money. We struggled greatly financially. Like, full blown poverty. We still don’t do that well. I mean, I make money doing what I do but like I said, I can’t spend it right now so it’s useless.”

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Like I said, I can help with that. Just say the word. I have a plan for you and everything ready to go. I want you to do well. I don’t want to see you struggle,” he says, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

I feel a sudden wave of affection for him. The way he’s holding me, the ways he’s talking to me. One thing I hate about myself is that I can fall in love at the drop of a hat. But even knowing this, and knowing that I hate it about myself I don’t want this feeling for him to go away.

I scoot a little closer to him and look up at him. “Tell me how it would work. How it all works. How do you do what you do?”

“Well, it can get insanely complicated. I’ve spent the last 3 years learning about all of this and mastering it, so I’m not going to be able to explain it all to you right now. It’s just too much. But I can explain what I have in mind for you and go from there.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“There are different ways people go about laundering money. The 4 main ones are smurfing, foreign investments, business schemes, and gambling. Gambling is what I had in mind for you.”

I give him a confused look. “How the hell would that work?”

He chuckles. “Well, we’d take a trip to Macau and you’d gamble.”

“Um…” I start giggling. “Where? How? What?”

“Alright, so Macau is a place in China. It’s kinda like a city with it’s own legal system even though it’s technically still a part of China. And it is the gambling capital of the world. I mean this place makes Vegas look like your uncle’s weekend basement poker game. In looks and in actual gambling activity… there’s just other no place like it.”

“Okay, that’s interesting,” I say, pursing my lips.

“And they have some of the most lax laws surrounding gambling proceeds and reporting. It’s one of the easiest ways to launder money, especially for people in your situation.”

“So, what, I have to risk my money?”

“No. I mean maybe some of it but not much. There’s a bit more to it, which I’ll explain at some point if you decide to do this. But basically, you’d buy however much of your money you want to launder in chips. Then play a few games with small bets, and cash out. Whatever amount of money you’re left with is what you claim as your winnings. This money is then reported as legal earnings and you’re free to spend it however you want to after you pay the proper taxes.”

“Really? That seems like it’s too simple.”

He laughs. “Yeah, that’s why people do it. But it’s not good long term, you can only do it so much before it starts raising red flags with the feds. But it’s perfect for your situation. You have a chunk of cash you need to convert to usable money. Then you can invest that and start laundering in other ways,” he rests his cheek back on my head. “Or, if you’re smart and do what I hope you do, you’ll invest it to start making legal money some other way and get the hell out of the criminal lifestyle before you get caught.”

“That’s bold coming from you. You’ve made, what… millions doing this?”

“Yeah, and now I’m in so deep I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out,” he looks down at me. “You don’t want to be in my situation. It won’t end well for me. It never does for people in this line of work.”

My heart drops to my stomach and I get a small rush of adrenaline. I know it’s silly but I already can’t stand the thought of losing him. “Don’t say that, Vinnie.”

“It is what it is, little lady. I’ve accepted the fate of what’s probably coming for me. I wish you wouldn’t do it at all but I understand why you do. You’re a grown woman and make your own decisions. But I hope you realize what’s going to happen if you keep it up. Your fate won’t be too different from mine.”

He’s right. It’s a matter of time before I’m caught or killed. It’s only going to take one slip up or one really angry man.

“How money much do you have, anyway?” He asks.

“I honestly don’t know. Almost all of my transactions are cash so I have a duffle bag full.”

His mouth drops. “A fucking duffle bag full?”

“Mhmm,” I nod.

“How big are the bills?”

“Mostly 20s, 50s and 100s.”

“Jesus woman.”

“What?”

“You’ve never counted it?”

“No. I lost track a while ago and now it’s just too much to count,” I shrug.

“Can we go get it?”

“Right now?” I ask.

“Yeah. I’m curious to know.”

“I guess so. I’d have to sneak in, though, I don’t want to wake Lisa.”

“Well, let’s go,” he says, getting up.

—

“Are you driving?” Vinnie asks as we walk into the parking garage.

“Um… I guess I can but my car is embarrassing.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just a junker. It’s loud, radio doesn’t work,” I sigh. “It’s just old and ugly.”

He smiles. “I don’t care. But I can drive if you want.”

“Okay, I’d prefer that.”

We start to make our way across the parking garage and I stop at his G-Wagon.

“Not that one, I don’t have those keys on me,” he says, shaking his head.

“Oh,” I say.

“It’s over here,” he keeps walking.

He pulls his keys out and the lights flash on a light blue Rolls Royce. I stop in my tracks and look at him with my brows drawn together and my mouth partially open.

“What?” He asks, looking confused.

“Is this a Rolls Royce Ghost?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, brand new. Just got it a few weeks ago.”

“How much was this?”

He hesitates. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I wanna know.”

He sighs. “I had a custom paint job and got the loaded version so it’s was a little more expensive.”

“How much?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“I don’t know like.. somewhere around $430,000 give or take.”

I scoff. “And you were gonna kill me over that stupid watch like it was gonna put a dent in your pocket?”

He scoffs back at me. “Shhh. I never planned on actually killing you.”

“You pulled a gun on me, Vinnie.”

He walks over and covers my mouth. “Shhh, someone’s gonna hear you, you goofball. Get in the car.”

He pulls me over and opens the door for me. I roll my eyes, and climb in.

“I was only trying to scare you when I did that. Clearly it didn’t work. You’re insane.”

I can’t help but giggle. “I want to argue with you on that but you’re right.”

“I know,” he smiles and shuts the door behind me.

“Ohh these have the ceilings that look like stars!” I say as he climbs in the driver’s side.

He smiles at me as he starts the car and the roof lights up even brighter.

I look around and notice the screen in the front of the car on the dashboard. I get on my knees and turn around to look at the back seat.

“It just looks expensive,” I say.

“It is expensive,” he laughs, watching me.

“What’s this?” I press a button on the side of the seat and a little door drops, exposing a small TV screen on the back of the seat. I glance over at him. He has a wide grin across his face.

“That’s real wood, by the way,” he says, talking about small door.

“What the fuck,” I shake my head.

“There’s a fridge back there, too.”

“What?! Where?” I ask, looking around.

“The middle arm rest that you pull down. Behind it is a fridge.”

I climb in the back carefully and open it. Sure enough, there’s a god damn mini fridge built in.

“What other secrets does this thing have?”

“Um… there are umbrellas built into all the doors.”

“Huh?” I ask.

“Open the back door.”

I pull the handle and the door glides open on its own, catching me off guard.

“Oh, and the doors open semi-automatically,” he smiles. “See that button on the side?”

“Yeah,” I say, running my finger over it.

“Press it.”

I push it and an umbrella pops out, ready to open and use.

I start laughing. “Fucking ridiculous.”

“But cool, right?”

I smile at him. “It’s pretty damn cool.”

I shut the back door get back in the front. “I’d be scared to drive this thing.”

“Psh, it’s nothing,” he says pulling out of the garage.

“To you,” I scoff. “This thing costs more than… I don’t even know. My literal whole life.”

He smiles at me. “We’re about to change that.”

I sigh. “Vinnie, this car alone still costs more than my duffle bag full of cash.”

He purses his lips for a moment then looks at me. “I’ll change your life if you want me too.”

I stare at him and feel my cheeks flush with a rush of adrenaline at the thought of any of this. The possibility of this being my future, and the means by which I’ll have to get it if I want it - the risk I’m probably going to have to take.

I sit back in my seat and cross my arm. I don’t know if I’m fully convinced what we’re about to do is going to work. It feels almost surreal at this point, but it is real. It is happening.

“Okay,” I say softly, nodding my head.

As we get on the highway, he looks at me. “Are you scared of going fast?”

A little.

“Not at all,” I say.

He floors it as we cross the 195 bridge over the bay. The feeling causes my heart to drop and my body gets pushed back into the seat.

I start laughing. “Holy shit!”

He weaves around a few cars. “This thing goes 0-60 in 4.3 seconds. Pretty damn impressive for a sedan.”

“How fast are we going?”

He glances down. “132 miles per hour.”

“Oh my god!” I cover my face with my hands.

He laughs and starts slowing down. “Alright, alright. I’ll calm down”

I smile. “That was kinda fun, I can’t lie.”

“You wanna drive it? I’ll let you drive back.”

My heart skips a beat at the thought. “You would trust me with that?”

“Yeah of course,” he smiles.

I bite my lip and look down. “I don’t know, that’s a lot of responsibility. I’ll let you know how I feel after we get this money.”

“Okay,” he chuckles and puts his hand on my thigh.

[primasveraas-writing]

"the holy or the broken" -Ted Lasso

I'm so sorry.

WORD COUNT: 2401

XXX

There are three eras in Roy’s life, and they’re all defined by the same woman.

The third echoes the first: Roy Kent, angry at the world with no one to pull him out of his frustration. It’s also worse, though, because before, Roy lived in blissful ignorance of the joy and sorrow that laid ahead.

Rebecca and Ted express their surprise at Roy’s anger. They thought him changed, or perhaps that grief would prevail over rage, and they were wrong. Because Roy Kent, when stripped of everything he is -his athleticism and grim humor and the love of his life- has anger. Nothing less and nothing more.

At first, he can’t say her name. He doesn’t even think it, because every reminder of her is a reminder that she’s gone. Despite her mark on everything- the furniture they picked out together, the bed they shared, her usual seat at the dining table, the compliments she gave his hair and clothes- Roy doesn’t think of her. Which means he doesn’t think at all, so he becomes his anger and his pain, and nothing else.

He stops coaching, obviously. Nobody asks him if he’ll keep going, nor does he announce his departure. His absence, professionally, personally, emotionally- is expected fully. Though people still coming to the fucking house. He tolerates her parents, and Phoebe once or twice, but eventually the visits dwindle, and Roy doesn’t check his phone or answer the door. There’s shouting, sometimes- inevitably Ted Lasso- but Roy has soundproof headphones for a reason and he’s perfectly fine with calling the cops on Ted. And he does, more than once.

His sister begs him to talk to her, or at least to Phoebe, and Roy, in all his anger, doesn’t have the heart to turn his niece away. So it’s just her and Roy, a few days a week, and they order food directly to the house and Phoebe tells him about school, and he grunts in acknowledgment. She cries sometimes too, and that’s when he holds her. No words are exchanged, but he comforts her, enough so that the sobs stop. The numb feeling he has remains intact.

The yoga moms scout his address, somehow, and drop off a wine basket- they drink in relative silence, and clean up his house and make a few casseroles. He picks at the food, but they slowly disappear, and it’s almost nice to eat more than once or twice a day.

It doesn’t get easier. People tell him it will, that the pain will start to lessen, but it doesn’t. Not three weeks after, or four, or five, or when summer emerges and the lilies bloom.

Roy’s not particularly good at adapting. He never wanted to be. And it’s bullshit that he’d have to start now, for some shit fucking luck and life-alerting occurrences he never saw coming.

Because he never expected that there would be an “after” regarding Keeley Jones. It’s not something he planned for and certainly not something he ever wanted. It’s just: one breath she’s there and the next, she’s not. Gone and the house empty, her office too, and suddenly every space at Richmond is filled with flowers because Roy doesn’t accept a single bouquet.

He does start to say her name, although only to his sister- the only adult he talks to. He spits it out, with venom, and he suspects that it’s this habit that prompts Rebecca to show up at his house.

She sneaks her way in, the stubborn shit. Apparently, she hid down the street until he ordered food, bribed the deliverer with an obscene amount of money, and rang his doorbell herself. Rebecca slips into the entry before Roy realizes it’s her, and slams the door behind her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He hisses, and to her credit, Rebecca doesn’t flinch. She gives her best businesswoman smile, the one that so directly contradicts the flint in her eyes, and straightens.

“Someone informed me that you made developments in your grief-

“Fuck you-”

“-so I thought a visit was due.”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Somebody told me once that I was always welcome in her home. Has that changed?”

“Yeah. She’s fucking dead.”

Rebecca does bristle at that one but she doesn’t challenge the statement. Instead, she clears her throat, setting Roy’s food down on the table in the foyer.

“Your sister told me how quiet you’ve been. And that any time you talk about Keeley, you do so with an incredible amount of anger.”

Roy doesn’t deign to respond, glowering at Rebecca instead. She takes a look around the room, in all its dusty glory. Lights off, trash piling on the floor, clothes strewn over backs of couches. It matches Roy, in terms of appearance. Unkept. Uncared for. Unloved.

“I’m calling the police,” Roy decides, scanning the room for his phone. “You can’t fucking impersonate a food deliverer. Or fucking be here when I don’t want you to be.”

“I paid him handsomely-”

“-illegal. And fireable.”

“-enough so that his salary for the next few months should be covered.”

“Get out.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I don’t give a damn about what you’re here to fucking do or say. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“And leave you to stew in your anger and your filth? I don’t think so.”

And Rebecca struts into his living room and seats herself on a sofa.

“Dr. Sharon proposed to me that your anger had legitimate grounds. Not just your usual brooding about playing and coaching a game for a living, but you know,” Rebecca gestures to Roy. “Real reasons to be so surly.”

“My fucking wife died.”

“Yes, well. My best friend died yet I’ve been outside over the past few months.” She gives Roy another placid smile. “Despite the fact that I’m mourning.”

“It’s different.”

“Undoubtedly, yes. You’ve been much unhealthier in your habits.”

“Fuck you,” Roy growls. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

“No.” Keeley would refer to that as Rebecca’s scariest tone. “I came to talk.”

“I don’t care.” His hands clench into fists.

“You’re angry at Keeley.”

“I’m fucking pissed at you and your fucking break-in habits. Did you fucking compare notes with fucking Lasso?”

“You need someplace to direct your anger, and since fate dealt you both such a terrible hand, the only thing you can think to do is blame Keeley.”

“That makes as much fucking sense as you impersonating a takeaway driver. Fuck you.”

“So you go from not being able to say her name to saying it like a curse because you’re much more comfortable with your anger than sorrow.”

“I can say Keeley’s name.”

“Can you say it without sounding like the angriest person on the entire planet, Roy?”

“Fuck off.”

“Well?” Rebecca stands. In heels, she towers over Roy, who glares right back at her. “Show me you can, Roy.”

“I don’t have to prove shit to you.”

“No. But I asked you to.”

“I’m not fucking angry at my dead fucking wife.”

‘You’re angry at someone.”

“Yeah. You.”

“Come on now, Roy. Do better.”

“I’m NOT fucking angry at Keeley!”

Rebecca raises an eyebrow. “Clearly.”

“Fuck you.” Roy paces before her, ignoring how every step makes his knee throb. “Fuck you, fuck off. Fuck you.”

“Are you even sad?” Rebecca says quietly, and Roy freezes, his muscles clenching painfully.

“Ask me again,” he dares, his tone low. He takes a step closer to Rebecca, who remains unfazed.

“I said: are you sad your wife died in your arms, Roy?”

“Fuck you!” Roy bellows. He spins away to upturn the coffee table, sending dishes crashing to the floor.

“Do you miss her? Do you wish she hadn’t died?”

“I’ll fucking kill you.”

“So I’ll see Keeley again. How lovely.”

Roy roars, using the full force of his body to punch a hole in the wall. His fist comes out covered in plaster, bright red blood leaking from his knuckles dusted white.

“She fucking died in a freak fucking accident. There’s nothing- nothing- she could have done differently.”

“But she left you.”

“She fucking- she-” Roy’s chest heaves as he looks wildly around the room, at anything but the woman in front of him. “She was supposed to get her fucking nails done. We were going to get Thai for dinner. We had a sexy fucking weekend planned, and she was going to come home and it all would have been fucking fine.”

“And now she’s gone.”

“We can’t do any of that shit. Can’t fucking fall asleep next to her ever again. Or hold her fucking hand. We had fucking plans-” His words catch in his throat, and he looks away, examining the new damage to the wall. “We had plans.”

“Roy-”

“Don’t.” He closes his eyes. “You riled me up. Is that what you fucking wanted?”

“Yes,” Rebecca admits, and she retakes her seat on the couch, disregarding the surrounding wreckage. “Since the one person you want to talk to is gone, I figured I’d substitute.”

Roy glances around the house, at the forgotten groceries by the entrance, at the overturned table, and at the destroyed wall. “Good fucking job.”

“Thanks,” Rebecca says swiftly. “I figured I’d be better at it than Ted.”

“I’d have fucking killed him.”

“I thought so.” Rebecca sighs, massaging her temple. For the first time since her arrival, her bravado fades and her shoulders slump. It’s a familiar sight, one Roy witnessed the last time he saw Rebecca- at Keeley’s funeral, where all traces of the usually confident woman had faded away, and a grieving shell stood in her place. “Is that it, then? All the anger is for what’s never to be?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“And this is the first time you’re realizing it?”

Roy’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, it is.”

Rebecca shrugs. “Okay.”

Silence prevails for a long while, then Roy sighs and takes a seat next to Rebecca.

“You know, my office has quite literally never been quieter. Even with Ted bursting in at all hours, it’s just… not the same. I started to get frustrated at Higgins trying to coordinate with me simply because he’s not the person I want to see. And then I woke up angry, too. Absolutely pissed at the sun just for rising. Because every day that I experience is one I should be sharing with her.”

She looks down at her hands, which tremble slightly. “It’s not fair. And I have nowhere to put all my anger and blame.”

Roy wordlessly gestures to the wall, and Rebecca gives a soft laugh.

“There’s one option.” Then, she swipes at her eyes, and sniffs.

“Keeley would have never forgiven any of us if we gave up on you, Roy.”

“I know.” He clears his throat. “She told me as much. About me.” He rolls his eyes, then blinks rapidly. “I’m not supposed to give up on myself.”

“Good job,” Rebecca retorts, and Roy growls, but Rebecca gives another breathy laugh. “You didn’t call the police on me. I’d say that’s a good sign.”

“Don’t let it go to your fucking head.”

“No. Of course not.”

“Thank you,” Roy says very, very quietly. Rebecca takes his hand and squeezes it briefly. Her palm comes away coated in dust and blood.

“Clean up, Roy,” she tells him, standing. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

-

Rebecca leaves, but she sends over a team of cleaners and a fresh batch of groceries. For the first time since Keeley died, his fridge is fully stocked with food for him to make into meals, and the house is spotless. He sends a text to his sister, telling her to fuck off in a way she’ll know means thank you, and showers. He trims his beard and dries himself off with a freshly laundered towel, then he falls asleep ass naked on the bed and sleeps for twelve hours.

He goes to see Phoebe and the rest of his family. They catch him up on all the petty bullshit he doesn’t give a fuck about, and it’s nearly normal, except that he drives home alone to an empty house.

He goes back to yoga, and every stretch feels like he’s never done a downward dog before in his life. Still, the wine after is good, and he ends up going home with a spare bottle and another casserole, and so another part of his life resumes.

It’s a slow process. Richmond is a hard place to face, with Ted trying to be casual as he checks in on him, and the boys stepping around him like glass, and Jaime Tartt in tears when he first catches sight of Roy. Her office, the lack of visits from his wife during the day, and the plaque commemorating her on the wall hurt like getting that phone call all over again. But it’s the beginning of the mourning process, Dr. Sharon will tell him, and now that it’s started, the hurt will eventually lessen.

With every end, a beginning.

Roy takes his first steps.

-

There are three eras in Roy’s life, and a thousand different Roys.

There’s the prodigy footballer, eight years old and scoring goal after goal in every match. There’s the Chelsea player, a championship winner, then the Richmond player, bittered by age. Injured Roy Kent, retired, coaching his kid niece’s football team. Then, briefly: professional commentator. Richmond coach.

Roy Kent, who fucking hates Jaime Tartt except usually his girlfriend is nice at least. Roy Kent, Keeley’s boyfriend. Roy Kent, Keeley’s fiancé, husband- widower.

Roy Kent- a bastard luckily enough that Keeley loved him too. Roy Kent, who lit up when she walked into the room, who smiled more during their time together than he ever had before in his life. Who wanted to start a family with her. Who doted on his wife and promised her the world and a thousand other cheesy things, because she had that power over him.

Roy, who was beside her at the very end, who evoked her last words and smile. Roy, who had that horrible, painful privilege of easing his wife’s passing with reassurances and small comforts and anything he could do to make her feel his love.

Roy, who loves her still. Who’ll die loving her and missing her, and wishing they had just one more day.

Roy, who learns to live to make her proud.