#and I want to make it easier to take time off for the funeral

[louisgoldenhour]

worst fucking 24 hours of my life

[coupleoffanfics]

teehee I have a small thought (batfam related, yk that one where y/n gets killed)

imagine if y/n was brought back by the pit, but instead of being a "shell" in that hc u made, she becomes completely stoic, like just blurts out what she was feeling back when she was neglected with the most blank expression ever, I imagine it being more focused on bruce and Damian since yk..bruce was the shittiest parent ever, and Damian with his sparky ass insults.

You…God, damnit Anon. You summoned me and I suddenly have the motivation to write after reading your two requests.

I don't know if you wanted a one-shot or HC. So I just went with a HC because it's much easier to push out. Though if you want me to make a one-shot feel free to ask. I'll take 7 years to write it. Though at the end I did sort of a one-shot.

Damian should have known something was wrong when y/n didn't start thrashing around and attacking anything that moved after crawling out of the pit. She just stared at her hands, clenching them into firsts and then unclenching them slowly.

Maybe Damian was too relieved to see y/n breathing and moving to really care. Maybe he thought that she was just in shock. Coming back to life isn't always expected and it can take a real toll on someone.

Not to mention that y/n was, compared to her brothers, far weaker. Not just physically, but mentally as well. So it's not surprising that she was so docile, right? It's only a matter of time before that effect wears off and she'll be normal. Or something close to normal.

Okay, maybe deep down Damian knew that there was a chance that he wasn't getting y/n back. Everyone knew that there was no getting her back, but he was willing to take the risk. He came this far and it didn't take long for Bruce to pick up on what his youngest was doing.

Damian has his big sister back and he's not going to let her go again. It's only a matter of hours before Bruce comes breaking down the door to drag them back to Gotham. So Damian took the time to clean up y/n.

She was still in her funeral clothes for goodness sake. She reeked of death, but that didn't stop the boy from hugging her tightly.

While getting cleaned up, she doesn't say a thing. Or even make a lot of noise. It was almost like she was still dead.

By the time Bruce gets there, he's not surprised by Damian's actions. He thought of doing the same thing, but he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. He couldn't disrespect her life by bringing her back. How could he dare think of that when she looked so at peace when she died.

He remembers how her body was tense before it became horrifyingly relaxed. There was a fear of death in those [eye color] eyes, he knows because he saw it. But it was so quick and fleeting that he could have missed it if he wasn't so close.

In a twisted way he wished y/n had clung on to him just like she did when she was a wide eyed little girl and cried. Cry that she didn't want to die. Cry that it was too early to leave now. Cry that she didn't want to leave them.

But all she did was give a crooked smile and mumble to herself as blood dribbled down her chin. She spoke incoherent things to herself. A name or two slipped from her cold lips, but they weren't ones of her family. From what he gathered it was just a close friend and her significant other's name. She died thinking of those who cared and loved her back. Not of the family that she couldn't stand to be around.

Even when her own adopted father held her dying from close, they were far from her line of thought.

So seeing y/n alive was gut reaching for Bruce. There was no pain, anger, sadness, or joy on her face. She was just there. Staring at him with an uncomfortable indifference.

Damian was ready to start a fight with Bruce. Not a physical one, but he would cross that line if he needed to. He was ready to defend himself in what he thought was best for y/n. Yet Bruce lets out a quiet sigh and tells that it's time to come home. How anticlimactic.

The plane ride back to Gotham is long and quiet. It also felt cramped by how close Damian was to y/n and unwilling to give her too much space.

By the time they made it back to the manor, everyone was caught up to date. The development is surprising to some while others not so much.

Everyone is in the bat cave. Gathered around to see y/n back from the dead. The silence is deafening as they wait for something. Just something from her, but she walked past them all. Out of the cave and to where her room was. Nothing was out of place in her room, though it was mostly empty after she had moved out a few years ago. She laid on her bed and slept as if nothing was amiss.

That's where the family infighting starts. Question of was this the right thing. What are going to do now? Why the hell did you think this was a good idea? There's going to be a lot of hash words being shared, but at the end of the day what was done was done and they had y/n back. They weren't going to mess up the second time.

Did they really get a second chance because it didn't feel like it. A week would pass and y/n has yet to come out of her room. She's alive and breathing because the trays of food left outside her door are always empty.

The camera's installed while she slept showed that she was doing nothing. All she did was lay in bed. She'd get up to use her private bathroom, but other than that there wasn't much. She was rotting away alone in her room.

This rang familiar bells in Alfred, Bruce, and Tim's head. y/n wasn't prone to long depressive episodes, so this could be something similar. The lack of socializing and excessive oversleeping was typically a big red sign for them to do something. In the past they would not force, but push her into doing social things or at least being out of her room.

They could approach this situation the same way, but they'd have to be extra careful. This was a unique and tricky situation to be in. It was also odd if not worrying that she hasn't succumbed to lazarus fever.

They could try to bribe y/n out of her room with activities that have to do with her old hobbies.

"Alfred is baking today, he said might need some help."

"I just stole the keys to the batmobile, you wanna take it for a ride?"

"Hey, do you want to…um, play a video game with me. I remember we used to play Hellflight Deadcraze a lot. They came out with the 3rd game. I just bought it today, so...Yeah."

Though the likelihood of that working is low. If they're really desperate to interact with her, they might as well just bust down her door.

At some point all the poking and prodding is going to irritate y/n. Whoever popped her bubble is going to be on the receiving end of pent up emotions.

I don't believe y/n would ever intentionally say how much the family's treatment harmed her. Again it would bubble up and fester for a while before she explodes. The thing about y/n is that she has an inferiority complex. In her life she aimed to please and help.

She understands that Gotham is dangerous. A lot of people need help and she couldn't bring herself to pull them away from their job. To her it would be like pulling a fireman away from a fire to chat as people burned alive. Even if the fire was out the fireman would be tired and need to rest, so she couldn't just pull them wherever she wanted to go. She shouldn't pester them.

In y/n's eyes, she was never worthy of being a hero because she wasn't good enough. She was never worthy of being with the family because she wasn't helping enough. She should do this to prove her worth. She's not worthless because she can do this for you and this as well!

She embodies inferiority and self-loathing. Someone that feels insignificant and has the strong urge to do more. She has- or had in this situation, hope. Hope that she'll be worthy of love. Love, affection, praise is what drives her and will seek it out if she's desperate. If she does ask or seek it out she'll be feeling guilty since she didn't really do anything to get it. In her mind she was being greedy and she couldn't help herself.

Bonus

"Just stop. Leave me alone." Her voice was almost pleading as she gripped the wrapped gift box. The gift was a symbol of peace, almost a treaty. That's all it was supposed to be, but she acts as if she had been spat in the eye.

Seeing that Bruce wasn't listening to her, she dug her nails into the gift. Almost tearing into the [favorite color] wrapped paper. He stood before her like an unmoving entity. The longer he stood by the more she wanted to snap into herself. She didn't want to slowly curl into a ball. She wanted to snap herself together with a violent and almost sickening crack. This just wasn't fair.

Clenching her jaw, her voice became much colder. It wasn't as cold as the middle of winter, yet it still had a chill to it.

"I thought you'd get it that I didn't want this. I shut you out, but you- all of you just keep buzzing. None of you are getting the hint. You just keep coming back louder than before. Why can't you let me be alone? Why can't you act overworked and tired? Why can't you just leave things the way they were?"

Bruce was conflicted upon hearing her say that and would try to claim that everything is going to come around. Everything always comes around in the end and this wouldn't be any different. They are going to get through this as a family.

y/n's frown would deepen and her eyes would furrow at his attempt at comfort. She looks as if she just ate something that was expired, leaving her mouth with nothing but a nasty sour taste.

"Because we're family." She whispered to herself before almost grimacing at the words. Her voice became sharp and cold as a blade, "I don't understand why you'd suggest that I was still a part of the family. I don't think I've been family for a good while now."

She clicked her tongue as she dropped the gift box while looking Bruce in the eyes. "Come on, you can't say you cared about me after I stopped being useful. When did you realize that I wasn't anything special? Was it when I kept crying about punching villains or when I was too slow to teach."

Seeing the conflicted look in his blue eyes confused her. Why would the truth conflict someone unless it was pity. Even after all this she's just a pitiful little crybaby to him. One good hit and she's out wailing on the floor for someone to kiss her boo-boo away.

Somehow this hurt her. Her pounding heart felt like it was twisting on itself. She wanted to cry and laugh at how she thought things couldn't get any worse. Then somehow it did. The universe, the world, the Wayne had proved her wrong yet again. It was as funny as it was sad.

She could have broken down there, but she needed to hear it. She had to hear the truth, so she kept twisting her heart with her own hands. It didn't matter how much it hurt.

"Or maybe you were in denial? You had wasted a lot of time and resources on a dud. Then Damian threw cold water on you and left you shivering, right? I'm just leeching off of you and the others. Then…Then you choose them over me. I was an afterthought, or is that being too generous? Did I ever circulate in your mind before this?"

Her voice was becoming shrill and gruff like she was on the verge of tears. "When did you realize that I was dead weight, Batman? Did I make Bruce Wayne look more caring to the people when I talk about how much I love my family? Did my life serve any use or was I always just a speck of dirt on your shoes?"

Those words were far from the truth, yet with how she spoke Bruce knew that she believed in all that she was saying. Each and every word was true to her. Honestly he didn't know what to say. This was all too much. Having to hear your own child degrade themselves with such honesty was heartbreaking.

Taking his silence as a sort of confirmation, y/n ordered him to leave and of course he did. He'd fix this somehow. He just needed time. They needed time.

I cut off the ending because I didn't want to write too much. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. I haven't proofread this, Google Doc says there aren't any errors (probably a lie), and it's 3 in the morning. Goodnight.

[soupandsimple]

Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)

[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]

* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)

** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)

…………….

Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.

Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.

Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”

“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”

That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.

After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.

“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.

“I would have loved if you did.”

You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”

“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”

He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.

“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”

You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.

“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”

“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.

You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.

Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.

Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.

“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.

“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.

So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.

“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”

Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.

“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.

He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”

All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.

But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.

“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.

You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.

“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.

You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.

“You can’t do what?”

“Return to the real world.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”

“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”

You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.

“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.

“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.

As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.

He then finally spoke.

“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.

Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.

“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.

Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.

“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.

Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.

He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3

[irisintheafterglow]

it's no secret that olympic athlete!sakusa despises parties. you don't make it easier on him, especially during the jackals' annual holiday party.

cw: a little suggestive toward the end but nothing explicit (he does things to me can you blame me)

he was in hell. the table was too loud, the people were too loud, and he couldn't find you. to make matters worse, his teammates seemed to be hellbent on catching you and him under the mistletoe.

"i swear, i'm going to shove a candy cane so far up your-"

"hey, no vulgarity! it's christmas," atsumu cuts in with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. the effects of the spiked eggnog in his cup were obvious, much to sakusa's disgust. "plus, objects shoved up our lovely posteriors would impede our mission for the night." snickers run through the remainder of the group, drowned out immediately by the chatter of the party. even though it was tradition and the most talked about event for months, it still didn't make the atmosphere any less hell-like.

"and then i'm going to hide your bodies so well, the police won't even know where to look," sakusa continues, sending them a glare over the rim of his soju bottle. his friends watch his eyes flick over the faces in the crowd, searching the shut-down hotel restaurant for whom they could only assume was you.

"yeah, yeah, then you'll be at our funerals with the fake tears running rampant and telling our mothers how great we were. we've heard this spiel before," bokuto dismisses with a wave of his hand and a knowing smirk on his face. "just you wait. you'll be thanking us later, lover boy."

"i hate you all," he replies, registering the journalist's approach seconds before she arrives at their table. "media," he warns quietly. "don't do anything dumb."

"evening, boys," she greets a split second later, shrewd eyes raking over the group. sakusa tries to keep his grimace off his face. the task proves difficult, though, when he can practically hear atsumu set his sights on charming her by the end of the night. "mind if i snap a picture of you all looking so handsome?" atsumu clumsily sputters out an answer, resting an arm around hinata's shoulders and forcefully pulling sakusa closer as bokuto smiles wide enough to cover the entire frame. a click and a familiar blinding flash later, the image is taken and he tenses in anticipation of the inevitable follow-up conversation. "so, how are you boys feeling tonight? enjoying the party?"

"we are," hinata answers before anyone can stop him from accepting the invitation for questions. "we were just talking about our plans for the rest of the evening."

"yep, involving sakusa and the mistletoe. he doesn't want us to say that, though," bokuto whispers at the same volume he normally speaks.

"oh? do tell more." her eyes shine like a piranha's and it makes sakusa's stomach turn. "who's the lucky lady? i'd love to get her side of all this, too." a clever batting of her eyelashes toward atsumu has him nearly crawling over the table to answer her.

"you're gonna love this, ma'am. the one sakusa's been after is-"

"this isn't a press event, so i'd advise you enjoy the rest of the festivities. thank you for your time," sakusa informs her flatly, much to the dismay of his teammates. he was never one for interviews, much less team ones, and catching him off-guard at a party was a surefire way of pissing him off. it was a golden opportunity for her, yes, but one more question out of her lipsticked mouth would force him to take a walk. "enjoy the party."

"wait, but-"

"omi? d'you mind walking me to the car real quick? i forgot my chapstick and the cold is making my lips dry." a gentle hand on sakusa's shoulder instantly eases any tension in his body and he hopes you can feel the gratitude radiating from him. it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to stand, curtly excuse himself from the table, and walk with you toward the door. his fingers intertwine with yours as your shoes click across the marble tiles of the hotel lobby, pulling you closer when you step into the winter night. "did you like my little rescue? i've been working on my acting skills," you ask with a small smile once you're finally away from prying eyes and nosy ears.

"i'll make space on the bookshelf for your academy award. and yes, more than you'll ever understand," he exhales, slowing your pace while he waves down the valet to retrieve his car. "i only wish you got there sooner."

"and caused more drama? i would think a volleyball player understands that timing is everything," you tease, brushing a stray curl from his face and running your thumb across his cheekbone. "i can't blame her, though. you do look ridiculously good tonight." his ears become the slightest shade pinker and you can't hide your giggle at his embarrassment. he never was the best with words, nor did he outwardly show a lot of emotion. but, after knowing him for so long, you found that the right words could have him in a puddle before you in less than a few sentences.

"speak for yourself," he counters in a tone low enough to give you goosebumps, ones that weren't from the chilly air. "it's been a struggle to keep my hands to myself for a few hours." his hand snakes across your lower back and grabs you by your waist, closing any remaining space between your bodies. he tracks the way your fingers dig around your bag, how you're conveniently avoiding his eyes just to drive him even more mad. "what're you doing, dove?"

"grabbing my chapstick," you reply nonchalantly, popping off the cap and swiping it across your bottom lip a few times. his eyes burn on your skin and you sneak a glance at his face to find his pupils blown to the size of ornaments. you were really testing his resolve tonight. "what, you really think i'd go anywhere without this?"

"no," he admits, eyeing his car as it pulled into the roundabout. "i knew that was bullshit from the moment you walked up to the table. the guys probably knew it, too."

"you think that lady knew it?"

"no way, unless hinata's lips got loose." on instinct, you step into the passenger's side after he opens the door.

"can you imagine the headline? 'stats analyst steals away star hitter during the middle of a holiday interview. dive into the rumors of sakusa's secret relationship!' i'd never hear the end of it," you chuckle once he slides into the driver's seat. with the heater blasted and the seat warmer turned all the way up, you suddenly remember why you're in the car in the first place. "wait, shouldn't we go back inside?"

"why should we?" a dangerous glint appears in your boyfriend's eyes and you're thankful for the darkness that hid your warming face. "i've got all i need right here." with one more glance to make sure all the windows were rolled up, he finally leans over and presses his lips to yours. with a sigh, you let his hand wander over your leg, lightly stopping its trajectory with a hum when it creeps closer to your inner thigh. "too much? we can go back in if you don't wanna bail yet."

"no, i'm okay. i know you're ready to go, too," you murmur. even before you were officially in a relationship, there existed a silent understanding that, when one of you got tired of socializing, the other would be their excuse to leave. "tell the boys we got food poisoning from shrimp cocktail."

"neither of us ate the shrimp cocktail."

"who's gonna know? don't you wanna go home?" the jerk of the key in the ignition is the answer you receive, followed by the engine roaring to life. "i'll consider that a yes. it's a shame i have to hang up this outfit early, though. i do like it a lot." you unsuccessfully attempt to fake a frown, pulling at the expensive fabric of your party clothes. it was half the truth, but the other half of the truth stayed unspoken while his hand laid itself back on your thigh as he left the hotel in the dust.

"don't worry," he mutters without taking his eyes of the road. "i'll help you take it off."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[yjcorefourenjoyer]

Photo evidence part 6

Tim’s life is officially over!

So apparently, the new Robin is not, in fact, fine! He’s dead! Gone! Went BOOM, if you will! And now, without Tim being able to grieve AT ALL for the Robin he had bonded with and probably spent more time with than his actual parents,

Tim had to pick up the pieces of the mess Jason left behind. (He’ll have a breakdown later)

Batman has been going off the rails, beating criminals to near death (they would’ve been dead if he hadn’t called the ambulance), hurting civilians, breaking more laws than ever, pushing everyone away, and letting injuries get worse and worse and worse…

To put it simply, he was killing himself! 

It was like he wasn’t even the same person, especially after Jason’s funeral, and Tim had a front row seat to the destruction.

Some villains thought that Batman being in this state would make it harder to enact their plans and went into hiding. While the others (the more powerful or the idiotic) decided it would be easier! 

Almost all The Cameras either stopped taking photos or would only send pictures about Batman. All of them had horrible content. Just bloody alleyways, or people running away in fear. They were sent in with the hope of Photo evidence doing something about it.

That is what he does, right? Take corrupt people and either blackmail them or report them to the police…

There was no way that he could get the police to arrest Batman, that would do more harm than good. And the only meaningful thing he has against Batman is his identity. Either way, he can’t go after The Batman! Photo evidence doesn’t fight the good guys!

But... Batman isn’t really a good guy now, is he? It’s like Robin took all the good with him when he died. 

And even if he did blackmail Batman, B might just let it happen! He’s already shown that he doesn’t care what happens to himself now that Jason’s gone.

Which is really surprising, considering he has a perfectly good, alive son and friends!! Like, shouldn’t Superman or Nightwing be showing up to try and stop this?

Oh wait that’s right, Nightwing is mad at B for not telling him that Jason died and that he missed the funeral…

Like okay… Tim understands that not being alerted to your brother’s death while you’re in space can make you mad enough that you don’t want to talk with the person who was supposed to tell you that info to the point where you don’t want to be in the same city as them.

And in Superman’s case he stopped B from killing Joker, which probably started this whole “I’m gonna go punch out my anger cuz I can’t kill the guy who murdered my son,” thing.

Superman also probably thinks that he’ll get killed in Gotham for preventing Joker’s death in the first place, whether by Batman or a Metropolis-hating Gothamite who somehow sensed that Superman stopped Joker from dying, and that probably makes him not want to be in Gotham. 

However, that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be helping!!

Seriously, Tim doesn’t understand why out of every. single. person. who actually KNOWS Batman, HE has to be the only one to actually do something.

Aren’t heroes supposed to help? Why does he, a child, have to be the only one who cares? The only one to step up? The only one willing to try and help?

Doesn’t anyone realize if Batman dies on patrol, Gotham is going to go up in flames!?

Oh come on! This was supposed to be his debut! To show the world that he could protect Gotham! But not in a vigilante way… He was supposed to go after the people outside of Gotham. The bats do the actual fighting, not him!

Ok ok, that’s it. He has to plan! Maybe contact a few people before he (or Batman) does something rash… after all he’s The Photo evidence! Timothy Jackson Drake! He doesn’t put himself in danger, that isn’t how a Drake works! So If he’s gonna have to save Batman on his own he’s gonna make sure that it’s the last option before he does.

But like what could he even do?? He can’t just bring back Batman’s hope and light, he can’t just bring Robin back! (Photo evidence blackmails people not resurrect them!), The only way to do that is to have someone become Robin, But the only options for that role are Jason, Dick, or well..… Tim.

And since Jason is dead and Tim really doesn’t want to be stuck in a life that’s gonna kill him (cuz it would kill him eventually), he’s just gonna have to find a way to get Dick back into the Robin role…

Maybe visit him in Blüdhaven? Maybe he could tell him what’s going on with Batman in Gotham? How is he even gonna get there? He honestly has no idea. But if this is the only way to help Bruce, he’ll do it.

He just really hopes that Dick will agree so he doesn’t have to save Batman alone…

[godhandler]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#9 : The Lady Kamo  

[could you ever be more than just his wife?]

[tw: noritoshi kamo x reader, arranged marriage, forced marriage, child marriage, mentions of adultery, feminist theory, misogyny, fluff]

#8 : Ice-cream Date

“Wake up, wake up!” Kamo Noritoshi raps his knuckles against your forehead. “Your chambermaid is here to get you dressed up. C’mon–” he’s ripping the blanket away from you, pure torture at 6 am. “– You’re to shadow me today.”

A day before you leave for Jujutsu High. Usually, Noritoshi’s already at the breakfast table by the time you wake up, washing down toast with hard coffee, newspaper spread out on his lap. He sleeps after you too, grumbling about the indignity of a futon and his achy back. After all, he’s the one with any expectations on him. You’re as useful as a flower vase.

“The Lord and Lady Kamo invited us for tea. My grandparents, or rather ours, I suppose, but remember to address them formally.” He fidgets with his thick-fabric kimono. “... Listen, I know this is not in my rank to ask…”

But it is, you both know that, he’s just being polite. Not only ask for it, but he’s fully entitled to demand it, expect it. That in front of others, you act wifely. Servile, if we want to get accurate. It wouldn’t do for a man, especially in front of other men, to have a wife untrained, off the leash. 

You nod. It’s a request– one of those requests you can’t really say no to. Whenever you and Noritoshi dress up in formal traditionals, it’s Noritoshi who chooses his own kimono, and then you being dressed in whatever compliments his outfit. Right now, as you two walk down the hallways to the meeting-room, your butterfly-patterned obi was tied after he picked that pattern for his own outfit. Not that he’d ever notice something small like that. Not when his life is busy with bigger things, things like– 

“The meeting to decide which sorcerer goes after which curse report. Next is a grade assessment of a couple first year sorcerers, and then after lunch we’ll look to expand our stock of cursed weapons. That’s the broad agenda for the day.” 

“Sounds boring as fuck.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Oh c’mon, there’s no one here. I’ll play nice when we get there, I promise.” 

It’s true. You bow to the ground in front of the clan heads, the venerable Lord and Lady Kamo, your forehead brushing at their toes. The greetings come and go; you pour the tea out for everyone and sit back down, a little behind Noritoshi, womanly elegance and delicacy personified. The prettiest flower vase.

It’d be easier to imagine The Lord Kamo wrapped in open casket funeral attire than the summer-silk shawls overtaking his frail figure. Alive for over 120 years, Noritoshi would tell you later, before he gave up counting. Over 120 years at the seat of power. 

Your hasty marriage makes sense now: Lord Kamo is expected to be dead sooner than later, and the second that he is, Noritoshi would be right there, wiping his grief-stricken tears with one hand and taking reins of the clan with the other. 

Unlike you, his life has changed a lot in one week. It’s as if your union has washed away all illegitimacy from his bastard skin, the confirmed Clan Head to be adored and obeyed. “And hence you take my place for the meetings today,” croaks out his grandfather, clapping a hand on Noritoshi’s shoulder. “The gardens beckon me, it’s right for my season of life.” 

You two have perfected the art of communicating only with your eyes. 

Noritoshi: I’ve got to go with him, make an excuse and come with me or you’ll be stuck with grandma.

You: I’ll catch up with you later, send a servant to look for me. 

Noritoshi: She’s old and ornery, you won’t have a good time here. Come.

You: As I said, you narrow your eyes at him, digging your feet in. Wild dog tugging at her collar. I’ll stay here for a bit. 

A cough; The Lord Kamo and the Lord Kamo-to-be leave together, followed by a retinue of servants. 

“Enjoying life, little one?”- comes her gentle voice. You’ve never seen her before, despite growing up in the Kamo household. Compared to her husband, she looks to be simply old, not disintegrating, late-80’s at best. The kind of grandma they paint in children’s books. Chubby-cheeked, sweater-knitter, cookie-baker. There’s no bite in her words, simply dainty interest. You’re the next her, after all. 

“With your grace, your Ladyship,” you bow to her, waiting for her to tell you not to bother with all these formalities, you’re family after all. It doesn’t come. “Would you require more tea, madam?” Come on, take the hint. 

“Yes, now that I think of it.” So you want to talk in private? The maid leaves to fetch some.  

Teeth part her face, nicotine-stained smile deepens her wrinkles. She drops her act like a theatre curtain. “You’re fucked, girl. The old man’s going to die any day soon, what do you think you’ll do after that? There’s no point going to Jujutsu School if you won’t even get to be there for a week.” When you don’t reply, she nudges you with her tea cup. “You’re not stupid, are you? The second the boy becomes the head he’s gonna want kids, and- ” she snaps a finger at you, “-kids are how they trap you.” 

And even though you know that she’s completely right, you need to defend Noritoshi. “He’s not like that!” You feel like an idiot even saying these words. Of course he is. Maybe not now, but he would be. All of them are. 

Lady Kamo just sighs. “See, women like Miyumi, that blithering weepy fool, they can run away. I’ve told her so many times, I say, ‘divorce that man’, and she says, ‘and go where?’ and I say, ‘anywhere, you knucklehead!’ I admit, I raised a son most terrible, but it’s not like I didn’t want to help her, alright? Who do you think gave her all the pictures of his adultery? Made a whole dossier of it, with printed photos, mind you! She could’ve taken millions in alimony and live on the beach with that useless son of hers, but no, she’d rather stay and mope.” 

She’s completely gone on a tangent, but you don’t stop her, sipping the tea quietly. She probably never gets to talk to people frankly. 

“But us, we don’t get to run away, you understand? Once you’re The Lady Kamo, and that’s not too far off in the future, you’ll forget everything else about you. I believe you can justifiably delay bearing a kid till you’re- how old are you again?”

“15 in a month, my Lady.”

“-ah, not that long then. I had my firstborn at your age.” Genuine panic blooms inside you. It’s as if she’s dunking your head into cold water, waking you up to your reality. “Well, in that case, I tell you this: instead of wasting time on that school, pick up books on politics, economics, history, and culture. Learn logic, negotiation, philosophy. I could arrange a good tutor for you. You’ll be the head of a good third of our society, girl. You’ll be Lady Kamo, so practise for that. That’s not what Miyumi was. She’s useless, that woman. Useless technique, too.”

You’ve never asked Miyumi-san what her jujutsu technique was. It just didn’t cross your mind. You’re suddenly interested in Lady Kamo’s, and so you ask. 

“Fission.” Your jaw hangs open. “Nuclear fission.”

—------

A long time ago, no one understood Kazuko’s powers, not even her. She travelled all over the world, meeting scientists in Soviet, China, France and Britain, trying to decipher the hidden secrets of atomic physics. A new field, at the time. But that was all before the bombings, of course. 

She remembers those flower-patterned poplin dresses that she’d wear, walking down Cambridge, styling it with rabbit-fur caps that she’d shot herself. Then she clad the wedding furisode, even though she can’t remember how exactly it came to fall on her. Then came a child, then another and then another, and in her overflowing happiness of a noble life, she lost track of how time passed long enough that now she’s looking at herself from back in those poplin-dressed days, decades later. The next Lady Kamo. 

Sometimes she wished that things were different. She wished that she could give you better advice. 

The tea-cups lie empty. You walk to the room where Noritoshi is heading a meeting by himself for the first time. Makes sense, you guess, of course the Lady Kamo would be an incredibly powerful sorcerer. She was selected to be so. Powerful women bear powerful heirs. And no such women should be left unleashed, after all. 

You’re beginning to understand why Gojo Satoru is that terrifying: he’s uncontrollably free. He’s everything Kazuko could never be. 

Noritoshi greets you when you enter the meeting-room. Everything has been going well, as you can see. He makes rational judgements, fair yet pleasing: a prince worth the crown. Unlike what you said earlier, it’s actually awfully interesting (you reckon you could do it better than him). You take your seat behind your husband. 

Curses boil resentment in your viscera. 

Bonus: 

“Did you get along with her?” The day done, you two are back in the safety of your bedroom, slumped against the headboard, feet under blanket, watching Gravity Falls. You wanted the Japanese dub, while he (ungrateful, in your opinion, about being allowed bed privileges) whined about ‘preserving authenticity of the original language’. So subtitled it was compromised to be. (“Plus, it’s good to practise your English, you know.”)

He wanted to say that he’ll miss hanging around you once you’re gone tomorrow. That he’s concerned if you’ll be able to do well in school, make friends and grow strong. That he picked the butterfly-print kimono thinking of you. That he’ll have ice-cream stocked for you whenever you come to visit. 

But he couldn’t say all that, so he said: “She’s not the nicest to me, you know. Though I hope she was with you.”

“She’s mean. Rambled. Talked shit about others. I like her a ton.”

Noritoshi doesn’t get it, but eh, who is he to judge? He pats your head. Cute kid. The bed does his back good.

masterlist

a/n: the recent VS fashion show was ass, they're clearly not adapting with the times at all, the pieces were 90s and should've remained there. tacky plastic that looked cheaper than instant ramen. boo on the clothing side, boo on the weakly attempted diversity (one normal sized lady, two heavily botoxed nail thin milfs, one east asian nepo baby and one !black! lady) man fashion has truly moved east cuz god that was disappointing

[the-boy-meets-evil]

all i want for christmas - xmh (the8)

(where you want minghao for secret santa so you can prove he's not really that hard to buy something for.)

pairing: minghao (the8) x gn!reader genre: friends to lovers | fluff rating: sfw (but i still don't want minors interacting) word count: ~1.8k warnings: none, really. this is just fluff and a secret santa exchange. no pronouns used for reader.

a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 14 - secret santa 💕 i'm also counting this as a drabble.

“Are you sure you want to trade for him?” Mingyu asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“For the last time, yes,” you huff out. 

Are you actually sure? No. But, this plan has to work. Every year you and your whole friend group draw names for Secret Santa. This year, you were really hoping to get Minghao. For a lot of reasons you’re not trying to share with Mingyu. Thankfully, he’s terrible at keeping secrets from you and had instantly whined about getting the hardest friend. He’s relieved you want to trade, even if he’s also a little suspicious. Not suspicious enough to hold onto the most difficult person to buy for, though. 

“Your funeral,” he says with a shrug. “Who’d you have again?” 

“Seulgi,” you remind him.

“Oh that’s so easy. She leaves notes about what she wants everywhere,” he says, satisfaction plain on his face. 

“So does Minghao, if you know where to look,” you add, keeping it a little vague.

“If you so say,” he says.

Mingyu’s not suspicious enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. Literally. Minghao is famous in your friend group for being difficult to buy presents for. Famous for not even pretending to like a present. You wonder how many presents he’s taken back in exchange for something that he wants more. Which does make the whole thing a little more daunting, especially because you’re not supposed to spend over a certain amount. That’s the whole premise of doing a Secret Santa with your friends. It’s so that you don’t have to go broke buying presents because you have a lot of friends. Of course, you’re all older now than when you started as broke university students. Still, it’s nice to hold onto the tradition. 

Now that you’ve switched, you’re nervous. Everything in your plan got you to the point of switching (and kind of how to pull off the perfect gift within your budget). You haven’t considered what he’ll say or what you’re going to say to him. Or if you’re even going to admit what you went through to make sure you had him in the exchange. You know you should just rip the band-aid off. Easier said than done, though.

The reality is that you want to be the one to give Minghao a present for a lot of reasons. You want to be able to get him something he’ll actually like. To show him that you listen to him and you know him. To show him that he’s not actually that bad to buy for, because you can tell it gets to him sometimes. That he thinks he’s just difficult, which he definitely is, but there’s more to him than that. There’s also the biggest reason you wanted to pull his name. That you have a giant crush on him. One you’re shocked he hasn’t picked up on and just as shocked other friends haven’t seemed to pick up on, either. Well, except for Seulgi. Then again, she never misses a beat. It’s useful that she knows, too, since you’re planning to ask her for help in securing the perfect gift. 

(Seulgi comes through, like the actual best friend in the world, with a killer discount on a beautiful designer scarf. Minghao hasn’t eyed that exact one, but you think you know him well enough to know that it’s still something he’ll like. It fits seamlessly into his style and it’s the kind of thing you can easily see him buying for himself. True to her word and the plan, Seulgi set aside several pieces that were returned because the brand had really weird rules about reselling things that left the store. They take returns because of the goodwill with customers, but never resell the items even close to full price.) 

When it comes time to actually exchange gifts, you’re a little nervous again. Didn’t think it through that you do this as a group, so everyone will see what everyone else got. Including the care put into your present for Minghao and the obvious, at least to you, significance. As if sensing your nerves, Seulgi shoots you a warm smile, then directs you to take a couple breaths. 

“I get to open my present first, right?” Soonyoung calls out. He’s already looking through the presents on the table. 

“You go first every year,” Seungcheol points out. 

“Right, so it’s tradition,” Soonyoung agrees. 

“Or maybe someone else could go…” Seungcheol starts. 

“Got it!” Soonyoung calls. 

“Just let him have it,” Seulgi laughs out.

As it turns out, she had him and got him a silly tiger plush and also a ticket to go to a drive through safari experience where they had tigers. Unsurprisingly, it’s a strong start and Soonyoung is thrilled. Seulgi opens her present next and it carries on just as well. It seems that everyone likes their presents, at least so far. Though, someone makes a joke that Minghao hasn’t gotten his yet. You’re still deep in thought and worry when you finally realize that your friends are trying to get your attention. It seems like it’s your turn to go next. Still somewhat lost in thought, you find your present. It’s easier because there aren’t many left and one of them is the one you bought. 

The second you open your present, it’s all you can think about. It’s a beautifully decorated scrapbook, so carefully put together that it almost makes you want to tear up. You start flipping through the pages and it’s like walking through all your favorite memories with your closest friends. The road trips and the sporting events. Concerts and beach days. Bonfires and drunken parties. A complete catalog of your best memories, without you even having to tell whoever made it. Each page is uniquely decorated without it being overdone. As you’re flipping through each page, you notice that there’s one person in more pictures than anyone else. Minghao. Is it that obvious to whoever made this that you have feelings for him? 

“I hope you like it,” Minghao says and he actually sounds nervous.

You look up at him, surprised. “You did this?” 

“Yeah, I realized after I wrapped it that I forgot to include a card,” he admits. 

“This is honestly the best gift I’ve ever gotten, thank you,” you say sincerely.

Seungcheol breaks the moment with a laugh. “Looks like you’re up next, Hao.”

“Right, yeah,” Minghao says. He clears his throat as he stands up. 

It’s a little hard for you to figure out where to look. You’re so enamored with the present you got from Minghao that you want to keep looking through it and appreciating the little details he put in. You find yourself aimlessly running your fingers over the pages. But, you also want to know what he thinks of your present. The real reaction as he opens it. Which does win out as he sits back down with his present on his lap. He’s careful as he unwraps it, almost like he’s preparing for whatever is inside. Over the years, he’s definitely been a little better about reacting to presents. Maybe he’s worried this will be another present like that. You know watching his reaction was absolutely the right choice when his eyes go wide and his mouth opens a little in shock. His fingers run over the fabric carefully before he reaches for the card. The smile when he reads the card is so genuine that your heart melts into a puddle. Maybe it’s more than a crush.

“I don’t know how you did this and stayed under budget, but thank you,” Minghao says with more emotion than you’re expecting. 

“Hey, yeah, that’s a foul! You can’t go over our budget just to get him something he wants,” Mingyu argues. 

“It wasn’t over budget, I sold the scarf. I have the receipt still,” Seulgi says.

“That’s even worse!” Mingyu argues with a pout.

“You’re just mad that someone finally got Minghao the perfect present,” Seungcheol teases. 

“I hate it here,” Mingyu says.

The conversation turns back to the remaining presents. Nobody really seems to have another comment on the moment that passed between you and Minghao over the presents. Neither of you has ever gotten the other for Secret Santa like this and it’s gone much differently than you expected. Instead of feeling nervous, you’re feeling a little hopeful. At least if your present is anything to go off. Minghao’s never put this much effort into a present. Not that you can remember, at least. Maybe, you’re not trying to get ahead of yourself, but maybe he feels a little something more for you as well. 

You’re a pretty disengaged from the conversation, especially once everyone finishes opening their presents and things turn to what movie to watch. Instead, you head into the kitchen to get someone to drink, missing the way Minghao’s eyes follow your movement. A little surprised when he appears in the kitchen with you.

“Thank you again,” he says quietly. It still makes you jump a bit. 

“Oh!” you gasp. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you liked it. I know it’s kind of simple.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Minghao disagrees. “How did you manage?” 

“I told Seulgi that I had you and roughly what I wanted, so she set aside some returns. Only ones that came back immediately and clearly hadn’t been worn,” you rush out. 

Minghao’s touch on your arm is gentle, instantly calming. “I’m so thankful you got me.” 

“Me too,” you agree. “Well, I didn’t, actually. I traded with Mingyu.” 

“You did?” Minghao asks, seeming surprised but also pleased.

“Yeah, I wanted to get you something,” you say.

“I did, too,” he answers softly. “But, I was lucky enough to just draw your name.”

“Your present was amazing. I meant it, it’s one of the best I’ve ever gotten,” you whisper.

“It’s what you deserve. I know I didn’t spend much,” Minghao starts. 

“No, it’s everything. I can’t imagine how much time you must’ve put into this. I’m not sure anyone’s ever done anything so thoughtful for me,” you assure him, eyes soft on his. 

“You deserve only thoughtful things,” he tells you. 

“You, too,” is all you can say.

“Do you think, well, would it be weird if we got dinner sometime?” he asks and you can’t hide the shock. 

“Let’s go, you two!” Seungcheol calls.

“Like a date?” you ask, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“Forget it, it’s weird,” he backtracks. When he starts to leave, you grab his arm.

“Yeah, I’d love to, but only if it’s actually a date,” you tell him. If you thought the smile over his present was big, this is infinitely bigger. 

“How about right now?” he presses.

“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” you agree. 

“Then, let’s go,” he says, hand held out for you.

And you take it. It’s one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made. You didn’t even have to tell him that you’d been thinking of asking him the same thing. The holidays truly can be so magical.

i hope you liked it! please let me know your thoughts or give it a reblog if you enjoyed it 💕

[vilecemetery]

soc characters as things my sister and I have said:

kaz, approaching wylan: let’s just all beat each other up a little bit

wylan, backing away: no! stay away from me

-

jesper: (hasn’t slept in forty eight hours) I love youuu

wylan: I love you too

jesper: I think I’m drunk

wylan: drunk on exhaustion

-

inej: (rolling her eyes) this would be so much easier if you just didn’t scream

-

jesper: (typing for kaz who is dictating) seriously, “acquiesce”? that’s such a pretentious word

jesper: also I can’t spell it

kaz: *takes phone from him*

-

jesper: ah come on, have you even lived if you haven’t died inside?

-

nina: back on her strawberry matcha girly chaos! why did I say that I hate myself

inej: it’s the strawberry matcha

-

kaz: (laughing at something stupid jesper did) haha this is worth staying alive for

-

(kaz’s phone dies)

kaz: *taking a deep breath* that’s just pissed me off so much

-

jesper: want to steal an orange juice machine?

wylan: (sighing) hey why not

-

jesper: BEEEEEEEZZZZZZZONK

jesper: I love just making random noises sometimes

inej: yeah I noticed that

-

kaz: it’s not my fault that people keep asking me if I’m transgender when they should have been asking me if I was a threat to their lives

-

inej: oh god, here we (trailing off wearily)

kaz: go again (just as wearily)

inej: doesn’t just watching it

kaz: make you feel stuck. like some kind of

inej: trap or something

jesper: ?? do you guys realise you both just contributed to sharing a single sentence ??

-

jesper: *gets punched in the face*

jesper: did you just fucking punch me??

-

nina: guys you have to see this movie called inside man!

inej: well there better be a sequel called outside man

kaz: and a threequel called standing in the doorway indecisively man

(both of them enjoy the movie)

-

matthias: (about someone’s funeral) that’s so sad

nina: (mildly) people die all the time

-

kaz: where is jes when you need him

jesper: here!

kaz: get lost loser

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Hi! Can I request a smut modern aemond comforting reader after a family tragedy and she ask him to help take the pain away by distracting her and he gives her comfort segs with lots of love because reader really needs it. Thank you!

Comfort Zone

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x fem!girlfriend!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 1,175.

WARNINGS: mentions of death/grief, fluffy!Aemond, Daddy kink, female oral receiving, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing, cum play.

A/N - because I'm delving into my Aemond era again, this was a request I couldn't resist!

Death was an intriguing aspect of life. Not a foreign topic, however scarcely brought about in day to day conversation. It was taboo for most people, until faced with.

You had lost your beloved great aunt tragically. An inevitable loss, yet no less profound. She was dear to you, her existence was significant in your life, throughout your childhood to the grown woman you had become now.

Mayhaps, death had ended her own suffering, yet brought about your very own. You wept for her, mourned for her, and grieved with others family and strangers alike that knew of her. Days since the funeral, one constant remained at your sorrowful side, the warmth and relentless comfort of your boyfriend, Aemond. He refused to leave you alone, knowing how remarkable her loss was for you.

Whatever you desired and needed, he would summon in a heartbeat for you. Nonetheless, despite the circumstances, you had grown even more intimate with one another...

“Baby, what's the matter? You've been quiet since I've come..."

It was true: normally you would be a bit more upbeat basking in Aemond's comforting presence. You had no doubt that eventually time would heal your loss. Although, you knew some days would be easier than others, and today proved that. Running some mundane errands, you had come across something that ignited a core memory, a happy one of that, and yet you felt only for a fleeting second, a happiness, before the anguish struct you instantly, catching you off guard, you felt vulnerable and exposed to the elements. Rushing home, you immediately called for Aemond to come and see you, to watch a movie or anything to distract your mind. Without question, Aemond arrived a few solid minutes later, pulling up to your gravel driveway, with a bag full of your favourite snacks and goodies, he knew you would appreciate.

"N-Nothing, babe. I-I just saw something that reminded me of her-"

You had both been laying cosily, snugged together in the warm softness of your bed. Aemond kept an arm tightly wrapped around you, thinking all the distance had been spared, he somehow managed to tug you in closer against him. His other hand, softly brushing aside your loose strands of hair.

“Oh, baby—”

“It’s okay, Aem, really—”

“No, no it’s not. From the moment I came in, I knew you weren’t yourself. Tell me, what can I do.”

Your intrusive thoughts rocked backwards and forwards trying to decide whether the truth was fitting or not. Somewhat ashamed of what you truly desired.

"I-If I'm being honest, Aem... I just need a distraction. I don't want to feel this feeling anymore, I hate it. I-I just wanna feel good again."

The momentary, tense silence that filled the room had ceased, as Aemond nodded to your honest words, merely responding to no coherent sounds other than a "hmm."

Just as you were about to resume the film, adjusting your position to something more comfortable, Aemond swiftly intercepted your movements, lifting you and pinning you down against the plush mattress. His body leaning over your own, the sudden exchange had caught you off-guard yet you did not question him. By the unapologetic look in his hungry eyes, you knew precisely that he understood your needs.

"I think I can make you feel good again, baby. If you'll let me, hmm?"

You spared no exhaustion contemplating an answer, as you rapidly nod in agreement, encouraging his motives.

Guiding himself down, you found yourself in a compromising position: as your bright boyfriend, occupied himself intently, slowly pulling your panties down below, skirt lifted up, as he exposed your eager cunt face to face with his curved smile.

"Angel wants to feel good again, Daddy can make that happen. Daddy only wants what's best for his angel."

Like an ignorant pup, your obedient nods fall flat as your head rests back against the comforting bed, bucking your hips forward, your throbbing folds collide with Aemond's keen, moist lips. His long, ravenous tongue prying you open, as he nestles his head against your cunt, burying his face between.

His mouth suckles on your wetness, guzzling at your velvet folds, with his tongue lapping at your tingling bud. Your helpless moans begin to fill the vicinity of the room, as your hands find themselves tightly gripping and pulling at his strands of hair.

"Gentle, baby, gentle- So eager for me, huh? Angel's been craving for this for a while, my poor baby."

"Mhmm-Y-Yes-"

His occasional bursts to utter filth were not sparing enough in seconds to regain some sense. Your mind flutters back and forth from worldly consciousness, to sheer mindless ecstasy.

"Yes, what, angel? Don't you dare think you can forget your manners, now."

"Y-Yes, Daddy."

He had resumed long enough without uttering a word more, enough to have your folds slicked with your wetness, his mouth completely coated in your glistening mess. By the way he desperately wiped at his mouth, licking your ooze off his fingers, he was enamoured by your taste, like a man devouring his last meal, before removing his clothes with ease.

"On Daddy's lap, angel. Spread your legs for me- That's it, good girl-"

Softly tapping at your thigh, one hand snaked around your flesh, as his palm met with your ass cheek: the other preoccupied with guiding your hips down, planting his aching, hard cock deep inside of you. Your walls clenched tightly around him, engulfing his long length, feeling his tip thrusting viciously against your clit. Engulfing his mass, you swore you could feel the vibrations between your dull throbs in sync with his pulsating cock, sending electric chills down your naked spine.

His warm, blush lips remained latched to your soft skin, as he firmly suckled on the meat of your tit, his teeth nibbling gently against your flesh.

"D-Daddy makes me f-feel s-so good. W-What would I d-do without you?" Your stuttering words echoed closely against his ear, your nails digging and clawing into the pale skin of his lean shoulders and muscular back. You caught a fleeting glimpse of the reddened nail marks etching against his fair skin, before your eyes shut close with lust.

"Angel gets what she deserves- umghf- Been such a good fucking girl, taking care of everyone, but who's taking care of you?"

His muscular chest heaving with every breathless word uttered from his defined lips. Your sweat beaded body bobbing up and down, pressed closely against his own, you had never felt as intimate with him until now.

"D-Daddy takes care of m-me."

"That's right, s-so fucking right-"

For a few, endless nights it seemed and felt like, Aemond remained lovingly by your side. Whatever you desired and needed, he was at your beck and call. His company provided a distraction, although it eased the pain of your loss eventually. The hardship you endured, he endured with you, cementing your love towards one another. He was your comfort zone, however dire the situation may be, you knew you could endure anything, with him by your side.

general taglist - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @aegonslawyer @hightowhxre

Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby

@harrypotteranna23-blog

credit for divider - @/itbmojojoejo

[brokenpieces-72]

Old or New?

CoD Gangster AU | Navigation

Note: First off, this is a season 2 essentially, and the files on my phone are highly laggy, so new chapters will take extra time. Second, feel free to ask questions and make requests about this AU, it allows me to get a better idea of the world myself. Third, there is some christmas stuff on the way, just the holidays are crazy sometimes.

TW: Mentions of death, funeral, high emotions and angst, old memories, let me know if I missed any.

“We’re gonna need a new place to lay low.” Price announces. You sigh quietly. Of course, it couldn’t be as simple as going back to how things were. Pissing off one of the biggest and sketchiest names in the city was bound to force some hands. Makarov wouldn't just leave you alone, and with you still recovering, a new hiding place was pretty important. “Something simple, somewhat remote, low key. We’ll still be going in and out of here, but after Y/N got picked up, it’s clear they won’t hesitate to start looking around here. If they just have the single look over that would be enough for me, but we can’t be in here. Gaz you’ll need a new ride as well.”

“Nik’s already sent me some options.” Kyle confirms, tucking his phone away. “So open houses?”

“Even with our names cleared, there’s still the chance someone will say something. Milena’s in real estate, she could easily find us.” Simon says, sounding less hopeful.

“So bumming it for a while?” Johnny suggests. The other options would be asking Alejandro or Farah for cover, but they were in shallow water themselves. You lean back on the couch, the cat hopping down from Simon’s shoulder to the arm rest and over to your lap. You check the time again, to see if you could take another pain killer. Then you remember something.

“I might have an idea.” You say.

“We’re not asking Graves.” Johnny says. You shoot him a look, pressing your lips. He gives you a grin.

“Kay that was mean.” You say, with a few half smiles around you. “But no I have a place.”

“Where?” Price asks, folding his arms.

“…I have a house. Outside of the city, so it’s a bit more remote than you might want but it’s large enough, it’s in my name, there’s some bedrooms in the basement, the plumbing and electricity should still work.” You trailed off, realizing what this would mean. Going back to the house again and this time staying. The rest of the men were quiet. They were considering it. It would be easier than trying to find a place somewhere else in the city. At the very least they could use it while looking for a place within the city. “None of it should be on record.”

“…let’s get to work.” Price says.

Kyle’s new ride wasn’t half bad, a standard vehicle, five seats, and you were riding shot gun giving directions. You take a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt. It's just a house. A house you grew up in. A house you stayed up in. A house you celebrated in. A house you mourned in. You take a deep breath and walk up to the door, ignoring the glances from your friends. You keep your head down, as you step inside. It;s a little cold. You take off your shoes, asking the other’s to do the same, trying to ignore your surroundings, telling them where there are bedrooms, bathrooms, and the kitchen. You ask them to avoid a couple places.

Hearing no protests, you head upstairs towards one of the rooms you didn’t want them to go. You didn’t go to your father’s room, instead you go to your own. The door is shut tight. A room you knew well. You had to confront it. If you don’t you’d just hide again. You were your own person, what was on the otherside wasn't who you were anymore, you'd grown up. You could do this, confront it first hand. Your hand goes on the door knob, gripping it tight.

“Problem?” Price asks, making you jump and whip around. You didn't even hear him come up the stairs.

“N-no. Did you find a room?” You ask, after getting your heart to steady.

“We were going to but something in your fridge growled at us, when we passed." Price says. There shouldn't be any food in the fridge.

“Shit the ice maker.” You hurry past him, to shut it off. You swore you turned it off a long time ago.

Rooms had been sorted, food was being picked up, and Simon was getting the cat, so you took the opportunity to sit outside, in the overgrown backyard, on the swing that still hung from the tree. The same tree you fled to during the waking. The same tree you and your father had picnics under. The same… fuck.

You let your legs sway you forward and back, the rope still holding. You stare at a spot by the trunk, where the roots parted perfectly for you to sit in. The same…it was all the same.

You get up from the swing and took short steps to your favourite spot. You sit down and lean back against the trunk, almost perfectly shaped to fit you, even after all these years. A tiny smile forms. You chuckle shaking your head, at the thought of the tree welcoming you back home. There were a few tears, but you weren’t sure if it was emotions or just your eyes watering. You close them, letting the soft breeze help you relax. You were home. This was okay.

Last time you were here…

The crowd was too much, the people were too much, the black outfit was itchy, and you just wanted your dad to come home. The few small comments about the red scarf around your neck seeming inappropriate were getting to you. Graves was keeping a safe watch over you. You don't know if it was for your benefit or for his as he seemed to hover around you. All you wanted was to ask them all to leave.

Everyone kept coming up to you asking where you would be staying, and offering their condolences, saying how hard it must have been to lose your father so young, how much you reminded them of him, and a couple had said they hoped to see you grow into a remarkable cop like him. Stop. You wanted them to stop. Graves would usher you away anytime he noticed you starting to look uncomfortable or if he saw your ears growing wet. Then he would take you aside, telling you to be brave, wiping your tears.

As soon as Graves had his attention taken away from you, you made your move. Without warning you fled to the backyard, to the tree you’d spent so much time under.

You went there looking for your father, with the pain of knowing he wasn’t there. Your spot under the tree hid you from everyone inside. Finally, you could cry without anyone asking you not to or Graves reminding you to be strong. You tugged your black outfit around you tighter, burying your face in your red scarf. The tears poured down your cheeks, as you kept tugging, trying to feel your father’s arms around you again. You grew light-headed from your grasping breaths, and any words came out as squeaks. You wanted it all to be some dream, to wake up from it all. To find your father next to you in bed, trying to pull you of this nightmare.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair you lost him so soon. You missed him so much, he was all you had and the world took him from you. Monsters took him from you. It wasn’t fair at all. You wanted him to come over and tell you everything was okay. That it was some sick practical joke. But he wasn’t coming, because it was all real. You wanted them all to leave, to go away so you could be alone in the house by yourself. Just two of you together. But it was just you.

Someone sat down next to you, but your head was buried in your arms, and your knees to your chest. At first you didn’t notice anyone, too focused on the horrible. You flinched when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Your head shot up and turned to the new arrival. The hand pulled away from you once you saw who it was.

“Here.” A glass of water was offered to you, by a man in a dark suit. He had a mustache and brown short hair. He was younger, likely a rookie. Another cop, not from the same precinct but you’d seen him before once or twice. When he looked down at you, there wasn’t pity but a sort of understanding. As if you’d come out here for the same reason as him.

You took the glass from him, taking small sips. The water felt good against your sore throat. You mouthed a tiny thank you.

“Alex Keller.” Alex said holding out a hand to shake. You shook it nodding. “You need anything else? Blanket? Some food? …me to fuck off?”

You let out a small laughing noise. Right now you didn’t know what you wanted. You shrugged in response.

“Uh… I um…” you stuttered, your throat filled with so many lumps there was barely any room for words. “I don’t… I don’t know…”

As your sobs returned Alex sat down next to you. “Okay, okay… once you know what you need, I’ll get it for ya.”

You don’t remember how long you and Alex had sat there for, with you just crying, and drinking the water. Alex had gone back inside at one point to refill your glass, and to get you a sweater, since the wind was picking up. When he came back out you overheard him talking to Graves.

“Are they okay?” He asked Alex.

“Graves not now.”

“It's cold out here, they should come inside.”

“They don’t want to be inside. Just leave them be.” Alex said, firm but calm.

Graves sighed. “…some people are asking about them.”

Alex shrugged, “and? Graves they just lost their father.”

“I lost my partner.” Graves reminded him.

“Phil.” Alex said once. There was a pause.

“Stay by them… please.” Graves asked. Alex nodded.

“They need time alone.” Alex stated, before making his way back over to you. Graves went back inside but he’d kept checking on you from the window. Alex handed you the new glass of water, your tears subsided for now.

“So… what do you want?” Alex asked. You finished your sip of water before answering.

“For the pain to leave.” You replied. Alex let out a small sigh.

“I asked your dad that once.” Alex said. “I hurt innocent people, and thought it was the right thing. Lived with that for a long time. Your dad came to me, hearing I was in a bad place. I sat with him in my house and asked him ‘when does the pain leave’. Told me it doesn’t and it shouldn’t. That it’s a sign to try something else.”

“Does it hurt less?” You asked.

“Over time. It becomes like a scar, it sticks with you but it hurts less.” Alex said. Up until that point no one had really given you a proper answer to that question. They just said it would take time, it will all be okay in the end, and your father was in a better place. You wiped at your cheeks and eyes again, using your scarf.

“Do you need a hug?” Alex asked. You nodded and moved closer to him while he put his arms around you. “Let it out. Trust me that will help you.”

Your tears continued falling, but you felt safer with Alex, than inside with Graves. You didn't know it but Alex felt his own heart crack a bit. He may not have been as close to your father, but your father stepped up when others seemed to fall short. When your father came to him, he had screwed up big time. If your father hadn't stepped in, it would have been a much different outcome.

“If you want some more help with the pain, screaming helps.” He suggested.

“Really?”

“Yep…you wanna scream?” Alex offered. You took a deep breath, about to scream. “No! No no!” Alex said quickly stopping you, chuckling. “Let’s not do it here, we don’t want to scare everyone inside.”

“Oh.” You said.

“Why don’t we head back in, get something to eat, and after everyone has left, we can go find somewhere to yell?” Alex offered. You nodded and held his hand as you both walked back inside. Now Alex stuck close to you, with Graves giving you some space to eat in peace. Alex was a comforting presence, and Graves was relieved to see you crack a smile from time to time. Eventually everyone had to leave, but you didn’t get to go with Alex afterward. Graves had insisted for you to stay home. Stay safe. You even asked him about the man you saw at the cemetery, and he told you not to worry about it.

Someone sits down next to you, and you open your eyes. Ghost looks at you, the stray on his shoulder. He looks like a ghetto Pokémon trainer or something with his dark jacket, the skull mask over his mouth and nose, and the cat hopping down to curl up on his lap.

“You doing okay?” He asks. You nod. He knows you’re not. The cat gets some pets.

“How’s the shoulder?” He asks.

“Still sore when I move it.” You tell him. He nods, and you two return to silence again. The winds picks up, making the branches above you, bob up and down. You take a deep breath. Simon takes a deep breath himself. Something about this moment… feels… right. You don’t want to ruin it but you have questions.

“Why did you stop Soap at the door? After you found out I was a cop.” You ask. Simon doesn’t have to think about it, but he takes time to form an answer.

“Soap gets heated when he’s dealing with shit he doesn’t like. I’ve seen the results and I didn’t want to see them again. Not on you.” The last three words he says quickly, as if he’s covering something with them.

“Thank you. For taking me in.” You say.

“That was all Price. Johnny told me about you, and then I told Price. When we were younger, we made a promise to keep you safe.” Ghost says. “How are your wounds?”

“Healing. Still some aches, but not too bad.” You say. You don’t look at each other. As soon as one of you looks at the other, you look at whatever is in a different direction. It’s back to silence again. Awkward silence. Simon was usually quiet though, you assume it’s a preference of his. So you two sit and simply… do nothing. The soft purrs from the stray continue from Simon’s lap. The soft breeze continues to rustle the leaves above. You feel yourself becoming more and more relaxed, and you slowly nod off. As your head starts to drop you feel an arm around your shoulders and a hand gently guiding your body to Simon’s shoulder. You take the last bits of consciousness you have to move a little closer, nestling into him. His fingers play with your hair, and you drift off.

Simon gazes down at you. You felt so safe with him. Then again, you hadn’t seen much of his real work.

Graves goes to your old apartment. Makarov was sending an officer, claiming you were now a missing persons. Phil wasn’t going to let anyone find you before he did. Graves knows you’re somewhere else but he wants to see you again. After sending you back to wherever you’d been with Alex, and seeing your injuries… he’d been struggling to keep his distance, wanting to see you. He made a promise to keep you safe, and screwed up.

Alex was refusing to give Graves anything on your location, as was Farah. The pub was closed for “renovations”. Stepping foot in Los Vaqueros territory was suicide, and bringing an extra officer - even Alex - was a good way to get into a fight. His number was blocked on your cellphone, or just wasn’t working.

Graves is able to get inside with a spare key, and is sure to lock the door behind him. Is this kind of creepy for a grown ass man to wander your apartment when he knows full well you weren’t home? Yeah, plenty creepy. But it was the only lead he had right now. He looked through the living room and kitchen, finding nothing. He does check your fridge to see if anything had gone off in there, and thankfully you’d long since cleared it out. From there he checks your bedroom, and… it looked almost cleared out. A few of your clothes remained, and he recognized them as yours, along with a few photos. He was about to check the bathroom next when there was a knock at the door.

Truth be told he wasn’t supposed to be at your apartment, but technically you weren’t either. He goes to the door and spies through the peep hole. He expects to see an officer, but he sees… what did this bitch want?

Phil opens the door making Milena look up with a bit of surprise.

“Can I help ya ma’am?” He asks, clearly unhappy. Milena just looks a back at him pressing her lips.

“Is Y/N L/N home?” She asks.

“Probably.” He answers. The two stare at each other expectantly.

“May I speak with them?” Milena asks, trying to keep herself composed.

“Don’t know, ya got their number?” Phil says, keeping himself wedged between the door and its frame. No way he was letting Makarov’s little birdie into your place, whether there was anything she could gain or not. Romanova was probably sent here to find dirt for Makarov before some half decent rookie could get any clues. Graves has already gotten rid of most of your existence from the station, but Makarov still had a couple leads.

“Are they here?” Milena asks plainly.

“No.” Graves says, as if it had been obvious. To be fair… kind of was. “Now please, leave.”

“What exactly are you doing in their apartment?” Milena asks quickly, stopping Graves halfway from shutting the door. He returned to the same position looking at Milena.

“The hell is it your business?” Phil asks.

“The land lord of the building is very strict about guests, and I don’t think he would appreciate-“

“Wait wait wait, hold up.” Phil says, chuckling. Was she implying what he thought she was implying? “I have a spare key to this apartment for just about any number of reasons.”

“What exactly is your reason?” Milena says crossing her arms. She gets a small laugh from Graves.

“Ms. Romanova… my relationship with my former partner is my business, and last time I checked you’re not a cop, there is no health assessment scheduled, and no eviction notice. So kindly see yourself out.” Graves says, and with that he slips back into the apartment, locking the door good and tight.

Phil knew what Milena was doing there, and it wasn’t just to see if she could sell the apartment. If it wasn’t to look for you, then it was to monitor him. He waits for a bit, checking your fridge again to see if there was the off chance you had any drinks. Then he checks the pantry, and… carbonated water? He isn’t picky right now. Taking a can he is sure to open it near the door. After that he simply goes to your couch and waits on it. Milena eventually gives up, and he celebrates the fading sound of heels with a sip. It’s room temperature, but… hold up.

Graves checks the can, reading the label. You hate this stuff. He knows he’s in your apartment. No mix up there. Then it hits him, and recent memories come back of him drilling in to you, lecturing you, and then the night you came back all beaten and bruised.

“And what have I done? Nothing! I’m a glorified tagger that’s what you said right?! Fine! Then I’ll be one! You gonna arrest me then?”

What had he done to you? He knew he fucked up in more ways than one but the realization finally hits him in the gut. Throughout the time you’d known each other he was trying to make you in his own way. He was toughening you up and setting restrictions between the two of you. You got the drink for him, not yourself. The few times he’d come to your apartment before the case, you offered one to him, but he was always just there for business. On a few occasions he’d spent time with you but it was always to make sure you didn’t give up on being a cop or as a sort of reward for hard work.

The whole time he’d wanted a student, a cop. Your father wanted you to be safe and he did that, but he had only pushed you away. Put you on some pedestal for him to start sculpting. At what point did you stop trying?

Philip Graves sits in your apartment, drinking and wondering how hard did he fuck up and not realize it. He wasn't your father, but neither were you.

When you wake up, you’re on the couch in the basement, with a blanket and pillow. You groan, trying to figure out where you are and how you got there. It’s almost foreign to you, this world you’ve woken up in. Slowly you sit up and shove the blanket away. Tea, you need tea. You make your way up the stairs, and emerge into a small hallway that leads to the front door on one side and the kitchen and living space to the other. Simon greets you in the kitchen, giving you a nod. You put the kettle on and sit next to him at the island. Without thinking you rest your head against his shoulder. Simon turns his head slightly but doesn’t move. It’s just you two.

It’s odd yet natural, like revisiting an old show. This feeling of domestic bliss between the two of you is something neither of you are used to, but still remember from a long time ago. Right now it’s just the two of you. You’re where you want to be and where you need to be, right here. The kettle continues to boil, the skies are grey outside, and the stray is curled up in a box with her kits. Simon likes this. It’s warm and comforting having you so easily pressed against him. It’s not something he’s used to, nor he engages with on his own. There’s no need for him to oppose you. It brings you closer to him, easily. There is peaceful silence between you and Simon, and neither of you breaks it.

Soap does.

He comes upstairs, and peeks around the door to basement, seeing the two of you. There’s a war going on in his head. Does he bug you, ruin this moment to get your reaction or take a photo and tease you about it later. He takes a photo of the two of you first. Then Kyle comes up behind him.

“Johnny what are you doing?” He says. You and Ghost both hear Kyle and you get up from your seat to get your tea. It’s like you missed your cue, and now you’re hurrying across the stage to meet it. Both you and Simon are pink in the face. You can hear Johnny’s exasperated sigh, missing the opportunity to take the photo.

“Really?” Soap says quietly to Kyle, as if he knew what Soap was doing the whole time. “They were having a moment.”

Kyle ignores him and just nudges Johnny forward, wanting to get some coffee. His statement doesn’t ring for him until he sees it’s only you and Simon in the kitchen. He pauses but then continues with getting coffee.

“Mornin.” Johnny says, annoyed. You return his greeting as you make your tea.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @theotheronedotorg

[miguelschamp]

marjorie

pairing: conrad fisher x fem!reader

summary: after your grandmother’s passing, conrad’s the only one can who make it a little easier

warnings: mentions of death, very sad :(

you were numb. even with all the movement around you, you felt like you weren’t even here. just a shell of yourself. almost like you were outside of your body looking down at yourself.

you were at your grandmother’s funeral reception and you just wanted to get out. you missed her like crazy already and to see so many people trying to make light of her death made you sick to your stomach.

you couldn’t count the amount of times that people have come up to you to offer some pity comfort. you couldn’t even muster up a polite smile. just raising your brows in acknowledgment before they eventually walk off.

conrad watched from across the room as another person you barely knew came up to you. he could see your eyes looking elsewhere as they spoke to you.

he hated knowing that no matter how much anyone tries, they wouldn’t really be able to help much.

when his mother died, he felt his whole world collapse around him. he couldn’t stand everyone coming to him and trying to offer words of comfort. he knew in a way they were just trying to be nice, but it just made things worse. he knew exactly how you felt.

he remembered listening to your different stories each summer about your grandmother. how wide your smile was each time you recounted the trips you would take and the weekends you would spend together. he never actually got to meet her, but he knew if he did, he would’ve loved her.

“how is she ?” someone says. conrad turns as laurel and steven walk over. your mother inviting them and belly and himself and jeremiah. he turns back to you.

“not good i’m guessing.” conrad says, “i’m too nervous to check on her. i’ve seen so many people pity her today.”

“well, i’m sure she’d enjoy your company.” laurel says softly, “you two have always been the closest.”

conrad turns to them as steven nods, “it’s true. if there’s anyone she’s gonna wanna see right now, it’s you.”

conrad sighs as he turns back to you. your eyes staring ahead of you. a very blank expression covering your features. before his mind could convince him any different, he makes his way over to you.

you’re too into your own thoughts to notice conrad standing right beside you. he looks you over before gently placing his hand on your shoulder. your head snaps up before your body relaxes slightly.

“hey, how you holding up ?” he asks hesitantly. he knew it was a stupid question, a question he too hated, but he just needed to hear your voice.

he sees your eyes begin to shine with fresh tears as you shake your head, “it’s too much.”

conrad’s brows furrow slightly as you look down. he squats beside you placing a comforting hand on your thigh.

“you wanna go outside ? we can get some fresh air.” he suggests. you nod softly as you wipe under your eyes. “okay.”

he stands up taking your hand to help you up. he places his hand on your back as he gently leads you to the door.

on the way out, he catches your mother’s eyes. she was now standing next to laurel and steven. the woman gives an appreciative smile with a nod, but sadness was very evident in her features. he returns it as he follows you out.

he sits beside you on the step placing his arms on his knees. you look down at your hands as you pick at your fingernails. you sniffle before taking a deep breath.

“i don’t know if i can do it, conrad.”

“do what ?”

“go on without her.” you say looking over at him, “i don’t think i can do it. i don’t want to.”

his heart broke as he listened to you. “y/n/n, it’s gonna be okay.”

“no, it’s not.” you snapped, “everyone’s been saying that all day and i’m so sick of hearing it.”

conrad didn’t take your tone to heart. he knew you weren’t angry with him. just sad that someone so important to you was gone.

“i know. look, at first it’s going to be really hard. really fucking hard.” he nods, “but you know that your grandma wouldn’t want you to talk like this.”

you scoff, “so what am i supposed to do ? just act like everything is okay ?”

“no.” he says simply, “mourn her. be as sad as you want to be for as long as you need to. but don’t give up on yourself because you know she wouldn’t want that.”

you blink rapidly as you wipe more tears from under your eyes. “how am i supposed to do that ?”

conrad sighs softly, “there’s not really a written guide on to do that. you just do it however you need to.”

you look over at him with sad eyes. and for once, someone wasn’t looking at you with an overwhelming amount of pity. just genuine concern and support.

“i can’t do that by myself.”

“you don’t need to.” he shakes his head, “i’m right here. okay ?”

you nod softly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. he pulls you to lay your head on his shoulder which you gladly accept. he rubs your arm while placing a small kiss on your head.

your eyes shut as another tear escapes. you knew this was probably going to be the hardest thing you’ve had to go through. but knowing conrad would be by your side through it all, made it a little easier.

[yuri-is-online]

Been brainrotting lately and now I present to you what I think is an underused story beat for Yuu. What if “Yuu” isn’t even the prefect’s real name?

Considering that Yuu’s first experience in Twisted Wonderland is waking up in a coffin, wandering around an obviously foreign place, and being questioned by a suspicious man in a crow mask surrounded by people in black hooded robes… I just think most people would not give their real name in such a sketchy situation.

Fast forward to when Yuu is more comfortable with the cast and there is both comedy and angst potential here. On one hand, the reactions to the deception could be pretty funny. (Cue a “woe is me” from Crowley. Of course he can’t find a way home for you when he doesn’t have your real name!) On the other, this could be a great way of exploring the prefect having a crisis. Yuu already lost so much in being taken to Twisted Wonderland, and now in a way even the prefect’s name has been taken.

What do you think?

waking up in a coffin, wandering around an obviously foreign place, and being questioned by a suspicious man in a crow mask surrounded by people in black hooded robes…

Annon, annon, annon, when you put it like that it sounds like Yuu woke up in the middle of a cult ritual of some sort. Which I suppose if you were an edgy Night Raven student idia you might argue that the enrollment ceremony totally is as an excuse not to go

But to be more serious, I have seen a few memes about this concept and I like it a lot σ(￣、￣=) It's a fun character concept, it's not everyday you get a chance to re-invent yourself completely.

That being said, just based off of the few dialogue options Yuu has at the start, I think Yuu is implied to believe that they are dreaming:

Which honestly doesn't make this idea any less valid. If you're dreaming about waking up in the middle of some weird necromancer's rite, why not give him a fake name? It's not meant to be serious anyway. Just go with the flow and hope things don't get too weird (and get offended when your dream doesn't give you magic powers) until it's too late and you realize everyone thinks your name really is that bad joke you made.

If you want to get darker, maybe Yuu really did think they died. A black carriage pulling a coffin really only goes to a funeral, and death has been depicted as an unmanned coach with black horses. Maybe Yuu is only just coming to grips with the fact that they really are alive when they see Riddle overblot and he hurts them. Maybe they now are sitting next to two people who have started to think about them as a friend, a really close one. Maybe they think Yuu is really brave because they charged headlong into danger without a second thought, and won, twice now. Maybe Yuu cries themselves to sleep that night because in a way... you died so yuu could live.

As for reactions, Crowley and the other staff members I think would be the most dramatic, followed by Adeuce and Grim. Jack I can see accepting your reasons and not thinking too hard about it, maybe even respecting your survival instincts, while Epel... well he says he's mad but mostly he's just concerned. He knows what it feels like to have two dueling parts of yourself and trying to find the middle ground. Ortho would be excited, you have a secret identity just like a magical girl/super sentai/anime idol/superhero take your pick really. He certainly doesn't mind getting to know you all over again.

Sebek screams at you for being a threat to Wakasama but it's clear to everyone who actually knows him that he's really just worried about the amount of stress you put on yourself. He would hate for you to have the same issues with self loathing he does. And Malleus? Well he lied to you about who he was because he was worried you would be afraid, even though you didn't know he existed. It would be very petty for him to hold a grudge against you for doing the same.

In general I think this would be something the others would have an easier time understanding as opposed to Yuu's sense of alienation or loneliness at not having magic. Identity issues are common themes in fiction, so I could see them actually seeing it as a problem as opposed to an abstract problem like no government papers (since these kids with one obvious exception don't do taxes.) But it would make for a great way to explore the prefect having a crisis just as you say, in a way it's the perfect example for every problem they might have with being in Twisted Wonderland.

[allbark-no-bite]

cain complex.

damon salvatore x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: he was the righteous brother, ever faithful and always gentle. and then there was Damon, dark and volatile with his ravenous Cain complex

warnings: angst, character death

author’s note: please note that this has nothing to do with the actual plot of TVD. this one’s been along time coming. ik people have a lot of mixed feelings about Damon so do with this what you will

————————————————————————

You started going to therapy again, per Ric's request. He hadn't forced you to go of course, he didn't feel that it was his place to tell you what do. Even though he did feel responsible for looking after you and Jeremy, it seemed as though the two of you looked after him just as much, and really it felt weird to enforce anything under the guise of being your parent.

While he did technically assume guardianship and enforced the unavoidable things like school and general safety, he had a tendency to make other things appear as mere suggestions. Such as one am curfews and therapy.

"It's just—I don't know. Just be a normal teenager. Teenagers go to therapy all the time. That's like the thing now," he'd said one morning while rinsing off dishes in the kitchen sink. And while he had been nonchalant about the suggestion, you knew he was really hoping you would take him up on the offer. Maybe Ric was right, it was time to do normal non-vampire teenager things.

—

"You said you're still sleeping at his house?"

His voice sounds contemplative, even a little concerned. "You know that while it's okay to want some alone time to process, it's better to surround yourself with people that you care about and who care about you. Maybe Ric or even one of your friends could stay with you?"

Ric had pulled a few strings at the university and gotten in touch with a friend of Isabel's who was  familiar with the whole supernatural vampire situation. So while he hadn't particularly been taken by surprise by anything you had told him, there are still somethings that you don't know how to explain.

A light, airy laugh leaves your mouth as you wipe the wetness away from your eyes, stalling in hopes that there's a better way to explain that you're not there alone. "Well... there's Damon."

Damon, who without question, took away the worst suffering imaginable from your little brother. Damon, who time and time again, made sure your family was safe. Damon, who fought his way into your life and never left. 

He actually pauses and looks up from his notes. This is the first time that you have seen him look surprised after nearly two weeks of sessions.

"You're staying with Damon?"

—

You feel him even before you see him at the funeral. His presence has always been like that, not quite smothering but certainly there. Alway there. His shoulder brushes yours to formally announce his arrival.

"Hey," he offers lowly, his smooth voice as level and unwavering as ever.

"Hey," you breathe back as you turn, looking up to meet his sharp eyes. They're intensified by a subtle redness around his irises. It is strange to think you had found them unnerving at first. Admittedly, their unnatural blueness was shocking to everyone. They were the eyes of a natural born predator, startling as much as they were cunning.

The crisp black suit hugs his broad shoulders in a presidentially confident manner. It's a noticeable difference as compared to how you are so used to seeing him, untamed and bestial. You're reminded of a wolf in captivity, controlled but only because he has momentarily allowed it.

Damon sighs heavily, like it's the first real breath he's taken in a while. "As someone who did not die when they should have over two hundred years ago, I can't say this ever gets any easier."

"It's not supposed to be easy. You're brothers, Damon."

He snorts, his shiny blue eyes fixed ahead on the casket. "So were Cain and Abel. Need I remind you of how that ended?" His voice comes out dry and ends with his signature humorous lilt that borderlines on insensitive; defiantly not how you would expect one who just lost their brother to sound.

Used to Damon's sarcasm by now, you recognize the bitterness in it. You know that no matter how many fights they had, no matter how much they disagreed, they would always forgive each other in the end. You wouldn't go as far as to say that they loved each other, they had both caused each other too much pain for that, but they were so devoted to keeping the other alive that sometimes the lines blurred. They were loyal like dogs, the Salvatores.

As if to address the silence that has washed over the two of you, he finally says, "We'll get over this."

"I know," you say, staring ahead at the casket.

When you don't look at him, he says it again. "I mean it, (Y/n). We're going to be okay."

Your throat is tight and all you can do is stare ahead as you fight the losing battle of not crying. "I know," you say again, but this time your voice cracks.

Damon sighs. "C'mere," he says, extending his hand out to you and pulling you in under his arm. Suddenly needing his embrace, you give in and turn to wrap your arms around him, your hands sliding under his suit jacket to feel the leanness of his body hidden beneath. You burrow into his chest, trying and failing to muffle your own sobs. With a sigh, Damon rests his chin on the top of your head. He allows you to stand there and just cry for a while, humming so that you can feel the vibrations of his throat.

When your tears stop and you go quiet in his arms, Damon pulls away from you just slightly to push the hair away from your face. Leaning down, he runs his perfectly sculpted nose along your throat, under your jaw, and up your cheek. You can tell by the way he breathes that the kind of respect that you're asking him for is causing him real, physical pain. You are pressed so close that you get the sense he is trying to make this enough.

"He loved you," he whispers, his mouth hot against your cheek. "He loved you so much."

You shut your eyes, fighting back more tears and try to will away the grief that is clawing it's way up your throat. Instead you think about the firm muscle of Damon's arms around you and the raw familiarity of his body on yours. Sure, you had loved Stefan, but Damon was no stranger.

"I loved you too," he murmurs, speaking into your shoulder. "And I know that I'm not Stefan—but god I loved you. I still love you."

I know, you want to say. I know. But you can't quite find the words and Damon doesn't push you to.

He just hugs you like he knows it might be the last time. Because after this you'll need space and time to heal, and he'll give it to you. Unwillingly, but he'll give it to you. You deserved that much.

You want to tell him that you will never learn how to love anyone quite like him. Because he had rearranged your ribs and crawled into you at some point without the intention to stay. But instead you don't say anything because you're not ready yet, don't know if you'll ever be again, and you don't want to make promises that you can't keep.

Regardless of the contradiction to the space that you have asked for, most nights you still find yourself in the Salvatore manor, like a dog waiting for someone who's never going to return home. You know that Ric would rather you home, and you've tried explaining to him your need to be there, but you really don't even understand it yourself. Sometimes you spend days there at a time, lingering between the kitchen, the sofa, and one of the spare bedrooms without much of a routine.

Damon's heavy weight shifts the bed as he eases onto the mattress behind you, having found you in one of the many spare bedrooms after his shower. He is the exception to your lack of routine. He shapes his body around yours with practiced ease. A sigh escapes his nose as he settles in, his nose in your hair, chest pressed to your back. You hug your arms around yourself tighter, as if that could somehow communicate to him that you need to feel his closeness. It does, and his arms encircling your waist tighten. Neither of you say anything for a long time.

He has been quiet for weeks now, uncharacteristically so. Maybe part of it is due to the lack of bristling arguments with Stefan. The two of you have learned to live around each other surprisingly well. Much like two ghosts inhabiting a big empty house. Somehow you keep ending up in the same bed.

You turn to face him, the sheets shuffling as you move. His hand lifts from your waist, hovering to allow you the initiation of any sort of contact. Even before now, he has always kept a big brotherly distance from you; respectful but achingly familiar.

You move your head so that you are both sharing the same pillow, your bodies only separated by a sliver of space in between. Lifting your own hand from beneath the sheets, you grab his wrist and place his palm on your waist. The corners of his mouth vaguely lift into a smile. Your chest feels surprisingly light at the sight of it. Damon has always been breathtakingly handsome.

But he's always been Damon.

His fingertips trail up from your waist. He runs them up and down the ridges of your ribs, the blunt of his nails barely grazing your skin. His heavy hand slips up your body to cradle your cheek, his blue eyes wandering over your face while his thumb caresses your cheekbone. You tilt your chin up towards him so that your noses brush. Damon swallows and his lips part, exhaling softly.

His brow is less tense that you have seen it in a long time. No longer set with that look of insistent worry. You don't mean for him to worry so much about you.

"This doesn't have to be anything more than you want it to be," he murmurs, stopping you before you both edge too close.

Normally anyone would have taken this as some sort of forewarning, a reminder that he is not responsible for whatever follows after. This is Damon after all. All the same, you see it in his eyes that this isn't him warning you. He really means it; whatever you choose, it's fine. He'll be fine.

The reality of his continuous presence has just begun to sink in. It has been in the forefront of your mind that he's been restraining himself, hoping that eventually this transitionary stage will fade into something more. You have never imagined that he would settle for what little you're giving him. It is so uncharacteristic of him, to settle for anything less than everything.

This change that has happened within him, you have been blind to. There was a reason you had fallen for Stefan. He was the righteous brother, ever faithful and always gentle. And then there was Damon, dark and volatile with his ravenous Cain complex. Never would you have described Damon as compromising and steadfast, but here he is, laying beside you, saying that he would be content with nothing more other than to lie next to you and exist in your presence.

You grab his hand with your own, following his fingers as they glide down to your neck. "That's a heavy promise for a man who's going to live forever."

Damon thumbs at the hollow of your throat, but his blue eyes are fixed on your own. "Even if I had a thousand lifetimes, I would spend all but one choosing you."

"And with that one?" you ask, swallowing beneath his touch.

He sighs, still smiling faintly. "I would step back. Give you your happy ending with him." Only the slight twitch of the corner of his mouth gives him away. That was his one tell, that self deprecating look.

"I am happy," you assure him.

"But I'm not Stefan."

You don't say anything for a moment. Instead you prolong your gaze on his face, taking in the undeniable attractiveness of it. Now that you think about it, you can't even pin down the moment where you started allowing yourself to even consider such a thought. At what point had you started to think of him as anything more than a friend?

"No, you're not."

He swallows, and for the first time tonight, the look in his eyes is hurt. "And that's it? It's just always going to be Stefan?"

You want to be able to tell him that you're moving on, it's just that it still feels like you're hurting all of the time. "I don't know. Maybe if I had met you first..."

Damon's eyes look away, like he's taking a moment to compose himself, before he sighs. "Right... right."

*four years ago*

"New OR–LINS."

"New Orleenz."

"No!" you exclaim, your chest squeezing tight due to lack of air it's getting from laughing and the intensity of his million watt smile.

Damon grins lazily, his pearly white teeth on display again. "I'm telling you, my parents are from the south. It's New Orleens."

The action only seems to make your chest tighter. You feel slightly dizzy from a combination of the champagne and electric nerves. All you can seem do is laugh at the earnesty in his voice and hope he blames your flushed cheeks on the alcohol.

Damon Salvatore. The mystery man of Mystic Falls. He's got a front page picture face with all of the amenities: unsettling, crystal blue eyes, jet black hair, and a wicked smile. The same smile that is currently rendering you speechless.

"You're staring."

Quickly, you tear your eyes away from his face. You glance to his nearly empty glass of whiskey and then back to his now smirking face. "Sorry," you reply, embarrassed at having been caught staring. You were a grown woman, not some teenage girl fawning over an older guy. And he was older, you just couldn't put your finger on how much older.

Damon just grins wryly, his pink lips pressed together to conceal most of his smile. He hums, sitting back on the bar stool. "It's okay. You're not the only one."

You glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Matt. He stares back at you with that signature worried expression on his face. You sigh and turn back towards the bar, acting as though you didn't just see him.

You haven't talked for most of the night and it's looking like it might be better if you kept it that way. You'd fought again over his parents. It wasn't his fault. None of it was. He was Matt, your best friend since elementary school for god's sake. Matt, who was caring and loving and honest and too good to you.

You focus on the little bit of champagne left in your glass. You can feel the burn of Damon's eyes on you.

"Hey, I get it. It's okay," he assures you. His hand settles on your knee under the bar. It's not nearly as warm as you were expecting it to be but it still makes your skin feel hot.

You sigh, unable to look at him and staring to realize that what you're doing is ridiculous. You had a boyfriend. It was wrong for you to be sitting here, talking with a random man and letting him but you drinks. Even if he was gorgeous.

You want to ask him if he has a girlfriend because maybe that would make this whole thing a little bit easier to take. Then you could just get up and walk away. But you can't bring yourself to even look him, much less say anything to his face. Maybe you don't even want to know. Him being single would make this whole thing worse. It would put the ball back in your field.

"Is everything alright?" he asks, leaning in. This time his hand travels further up your knee. His cologne is overwhelming in the sense that if you don't get away from him, you'll do something irrational.

"Excuse me," you manage, jumping up from your seat and tipping the stool as you go. You don't wait to see if it falls because you can't risk looking back at his face.

Your feet carry you in the direction of Caroline and Bonnie, brushing directly past Matt, who you try not to look at. Thankfully he doesn't try to stop you. When you reach your friends, Caroline turns towards you smiling, but it grows smaller as she takes in your look of urgency.

"Hey!— What's wrong? Is everything okay?" Her hand finds your elbow, the worry on her face evident.

You place your hand on top of hers. "Really, it's nothing. I'm fine. Just some random guy at the bar," you reassure her, feeling your heat rate as it begins to settle.

A look of gentle understanding crosses her face and she gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. "Things are going to work out between you and Matt. I know they will. Okay?"

You swallow and try not to let her see the doubt on your own face. "I know. Thanks, Care."

This time she breaks out into a real smile, grabbing your hand. "Now come on! Let's dance!"

You allow her to drag out onto the middle of the floor in the grill, meeting up with Bonnie. It's easy to let your worries go for even just a little while when you're with them. It's a Friday night and you're with your best friends and there's absolutely nothing to worry about. It's kinda of like what they say, nothing bad ever happens in Mystic Falls.

"I'm going to take it as a compliment that you're talking to everyone here but me."

The voice coming from behind you makes you jump. You hadn't even heard his footsteps coming up behind you. It was like he had appeared out of thin air. You could have sworn he wasn't there a moment ago.

You'd stepped out of the backdoor of The Grill for a moment, needing some fresh air. More like needing to get away from Matt's wounded puppy dog eyes, but air all the same. You had nearly all but forgotten the handsome stranger at the bar until now.

Damon approaches you, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black leather jacket. He looks no less confident than he did earlier at the bar, that easy smile still on his lips, charming blue eyes shining in the moonlight.

"You gotta be careful. They say there are vampires around here."

For once you allow your shoulders to relax, and you let out a sigh. "Hey. I'm sorry," you begin, shaking your head. "I'm having a rough night. It's just that I'm probably about to break up with my boyfriend except I'm not supposed to break up with him because he's perfect. But then he starts talking about getting married and I'm not ready to get married. I'm barley nineteen—"

Damon just stands there, listening quietly to your rant and watching you with curious eyes. That's all you've wanted for past week. Just someone to listen without trying to convince you that Matt was the perfect guy.

Even when your rant ends, Damon remains quiet. He sucks on his pearly teeth before replying. "Sometimes just because he's the perfect guy doesn't mean he's the right guy. You can take it from me when I say I don't regret not being the perfect guy." His face pinches briefly into something that looks like hurt as he says, "It's no fun anyway."

Admittedly, you kind of laugh at his revelation. "Because you would know all about that. Have you looked in a mirror lately, Damon? In what world are you not perfect?"

His mouth twitches up but he doesn't really make the effort to smile. "You'd be surprised."

You swallow, watching him as he walks a bit closer. "What do you mean?"

"Do you have any idea what it's like to no longer be human?" Your brows furrow but Damon cuts you off before you can answer. "You don't. It's terrible. I hate it. I hate it more than anything in the world. But what I hate even more is that you're going to have to forget about me."

His hand cups your cheek and you know you need to step back, you need to get away from him, but your legs are frozen and you can't move. Your heart is back to pounding in your chest like it was earlier. You want to scream. For anyone, for Matt, but Damon's hand is cupping your jaw and he could shut you up the second you opened your mouth.

His blue eyes are staring directly into yours. They're just as unsettling as they were when he caught your eye at the bar earlier. What is possibly even more terrifying is that you can't look away.

And then he's just... gone.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, but when you look around, there's no one there.

Had you been talking to someone?

*present day*

There's something that he's not telling you, but you won't push him to, not right now. Right now it's good to just lay with him and know that you're both here and that he's not going anywhere.

He could tell you. He could be selfish and tell you that he did meet you first. That you were never Stefan's to begin with.

But that's the thing about being Cain. He will always be his brother's keeper.

[gravityfallsrenaissance]

On the first day of his last year of high school, Soos finds out that no one in Gravity Falls, Oregon is a foster parent.

He’s sitting in the hallway of the hospital with a police officer and social worker as they explain to him that even though he’s 17, he has no legal parent or guardian. It’s the day he find out his Dad terminated his parental rights.

They tell him that the nearest set of registered foster parents is about a 3 hour drive away, which doesn’t give him much time to pack.

While he’s packing up his things at the house, their landline starts ringing. Soos goes to answer it and is met with gruff spanish he doesn’t hear very often.

“Hola señora, ¿cómo está Soos? No lo he visto y sé que es su primer día de regreso a la escuela. Le dije que no había trabajo la primera semana, pero por lo general viene para al menos contarme cómo le fue y solo quería asegurarme de que estaba bien.”

Soos stands speechless for a moment. He’s unable to get the words out in Spanish.

“Hi Mr. Pines, um, I won’t be able to come into work anymore.”

“Soos? Kid, are you alright?”

“Abuela passed away this morning. It turns out there aren’t any foster parents in town, and the nearest couple is 3 hours away, so I’m glad you called because I wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to come back to work. The social worker is having me pick up my things right now, I don’t know if they’ll let us drive past the Shack so I can-“

“Soos, I need you to pass the phone to the social worker for me.”

He does, and before he realizes what’s happening, Soos is being packed into the car and driving down familiar roads. Mr. Pines must have convinced them that Soos wanted to say goodbye and when the arrive he’s shocked to see him sitting on the front porch in clothes that aren’t the Mr. Mystery costume or his weekend tank top and boxers. He’s dressed in slacks and a clean dress shirt with no embellishments. He looks like he shaved.

Soos leaves his bag in the car to say goodbye and is surprised when the social worker grabs it for him.

“Mr. Pines, thank you for offer of temporary guardianship as we sort out Jesus’s situation. It’ll be easier for him to stay close for the funeral and in making decisions about his grandmother’s estate.”

Mr. Pines has an expression Soos has never seen and can’t figure out. The man is always smiling or grumbling and now he’s just nodding and offering his hand to the social worker before turning to Soos.

“Hey, Soos. Why don’t you take your bag and go get set up? I cleaned out the room on the first floor for you, I’ll be right in.”

***

Soos had been in this part of the Shack many times over the years, usually to work on homework with Mr. Pines after work or to eat tamales that his Abuela had asked him to send along.

He finds the room Mr. Pines was talking about and sees that everything looks like it’s been hastily cleaned and stored away. The room itself looks the same with a bed, dresser, closet, rug, and desk all freshly, if haphazardly, wiped down.

He sets down his bag and sits on the bed, unsure if he should unpack. Unsure how long he’s staying.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he notices Mr. Pines standing in the doorway and must startle, because Mr. Pines raises his hands a little looking sheepish.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, kid. Sorry.”

He continues to stand a bit oddly in the doorway before sighing, grabbing the desk chair, and pulling it so that he’s facing Soos.

“Look, there are a couple of things you and I should talk about, and I know this is all going a bit fast, so once I let you know what’s going on I’ll try and slow it down a bit. Do you have any questions?”

“Er, how long am I staying here?”

“Well, see, we kind of need to figure that one out together. I got you placed in my custody temporarily since I told them I’m a friend of the family, and it’ll take a while to sort out the foster parent paper work-“

“But, Mr. Pines, I’m your handyman. I don’t-“

“Kid, if you think I’m letting them ship you off to some yahoos from God knows where before we’ve even had a chance to hold the funeral-“

And Soos swears he didn’t mean to, he’s almost 18 and he hasn’t cried in a long time, but it’s been a long day and it’s really setting in that Mr. Pines is taking him in and that Abuela is dead.

Mr. Pines is next to him quickly and Soos realizes this is the first time he’s been hugged by Mr. Pines that didn’t have some sort of odd excuse to avoid seeming awkward.

When Soos has cried himself out he breathes for a minute and lets himself enjoy the fact that Mr. Pines is hugging him and then pulls back to get a good look at him and wipe his eyes.

Soos’s tear tracks are on Mr. Pines’s shirt and his eyes look a little red, but otherwise he appears to be holding together better than Soos.

“You’re staying with me now, alright? I’ll help you sort out the funeral and moving your stuff over here, and talk to your school. You’re still a kid, and even if you weren’t, I’m not letting you do this by yourself. I’ll need your help though, since I haven’t met any of your other family and I don’t know who I should be trying to get in contact with and all. But we can sort that out tomorrow or the day after.”

“Am I going to school tomorrow?”

“Nah, kid. I’ll call you in until we can get everything figured out. Come on, I should figure out what we’re doing for dinner and then I’ll let you pick something on tv. Or I mean, we can talk if you need…”

Soos shakes his head a bit. He doesn’t know what he’d say. It feels wrong, sitting in this house and doing normal things that he’d otherwise be excited by. He’d always wanted Mr. Pines’s approval, but not at the cost of his Abuela.

And for everything to just keep going made his chest hurt. Mr. Pines was right, all of this felt like it was going too fast because none of it should be happening at all. He should have had years with his Abuela, he should have got to come home and tell her about his first day of senior year and talk her ear off about all the cool new exhibits he and Mr. Pines were putting together.

But that wouldn’t ever happen again.

Mr. Pines put his arm around Soos’s shoulders and led him out into the kitchen.

***

What cut through the misery and strangeness and wrongness of grieving his Abuela were the changes he saw in Mr. Pines.

He was… gentler.

Soos was used to the gruff and sometimes abrasive personality of his employer. Now foster parent. But he did not know the man who woke him up for school in the morning, made breakfast, packed lunch, and cooked dinner. Who called his extended family, helped him pack his Abuela’s house, helped him with homework, and stood next to him on a Tuesday in September as they said goodbye to his Abuela.

The real difference was how much he talked, and what he talked about.

He was just, more open.

If Soos cried, he was there. If he wanted to visit Abuela, Mr. Pines went with. If he needed help with homework, Mr. Pines sat with him until they figured it out.

He asked him about his videogames and anime and manga and anything else Soos was interested in. He offered to show him how to work on his car.

He didn’t really talk about himself much, but now, there were small scraps and interjections about things that Soos had never heard him mention. Observations about the desert, names of people he picked up Spanish from, boxing tips, how he read body language or tone for making a sale. Things that made him seem less like Mr. Mystery and more like Mr. Pines.

It felt like Soos was peaking behind a curtain.

Mr. Pines seemed to have dialed himself back, maybe. Soos wasn’t sure what to call it.

Even when he was fixing things up around the Shack for him there was less gruffness in his requests.

Soos loved it and felt an immense guilt about it.

He knew Mr. Pines was just being kind and that Soos was almost an adult and wouldn’t need this level of kindness since he’d be expected to.

Well.

Actually, he wasn’t sure what would be expected of him when he turned 18.

So one night at dinner, he asked Mr. Pines what would happen when he turned 18.

“You wanna go to college?”

“Not exactly but-“

“You want to keep working here?”

“Well yes but Mr. Pines I meant-“

“Soos, you’re welcome here for as long as you’d like to stay. This is my home and it’s yours as much as you’d like.”

“As much as I’d like?”

Mr. Pines shifted awkwardly in his chair and nodded.

“I didn’t want to assume anything but, the paperwork makes me your legal guardian. I’m responsible for you now, kid. So yeah, my home is yours. I don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you from your family or anything but, even if I’m only fostering you, you’re part of mine.”

“You want me to be part of your family? For real?”

“Well yeah kid, I didn’t sign all those forms because you’re my employee. I mean you are kinda but like- Soos. Did you think I was only doing this because I wanted you to keep working at the Shack?”

Soos felt his face heat up and started to deny it but Mr. Pines cut him off pretty quick.

“Shit kid, okay look. I was trying not to presume how you feel about any of this. I didn’t want to put words in your mouth or um. Well, look. I was only married in Vegas briefly and I don’t really have my sights on going the whole conventional route of getting married and then, that’s to say, shit. Soos, I’ve always sort of thought of you as my son.”

Soos’s eyes were so wide. Mr. Pines’s face also seemed to heat up a bit and he tried shrugging, as though this wasn’t a big deal. As though it wasn’t something incredibly important to Soos.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, because I’m not really a great father figure and all, but look. When your Abuela was still around I could kid myself that it wasn’t something I wanted, being a parent and all. But now you’re living with me and I can’t help it. You’re a good kid, Soos. I’m not trying to replace anyone but, I guess, I want you to know that this is permanent. If you want it to be.”

Soos felt his eyes well up and Mr. Pines was on his feet, turning their chairs together so he could wrap an arm around him.

“I care about you, kid. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but it felt like something I should let you decide.”

Soos cried a little and laughed when Mr. Pines ruffled his hair before moving far enough apart to go back to eating, but not all the way across the table from him.

“So, if I wanted to stay here and keep working for you?”

“That’s more than enough for me, kid. I’d love for you to stay, if you want to.”

“And when I’m an adult, does that mean the foster thing-“

“I don’t really know what happens with that exactly. I mean, the social worker told me that I mean, if I wanted to and you agreed, I could file adoption paperwork since your um, well since your Father terminated his parental rights but uh, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to bring that up.”

Soos felt his eyes tear up again and Mr. Pines gently cuffed him on the back of the head.

“Oh hush kid, c’mon no more tears. I swear no one else in our family is this weepy. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Our family?”

“Well yeah. Crap. I’ve uh, well I’ve got an older brother who’s got kids I should probably introduce you too. Surprise, you’ve got cousins!”

Soos laughed tearily and chanced another hug, which he definitely got.

And of course it hurt, his Abuela was gone and he missed her everyday. But it was nice not being alone.

Google translate spanish below the cut:

Hola señora, ¿cómo está Soos? No lo he visto y sé que es su primer día de regreso a la escuela. Le dije que no había trabajo la primera semana, pero por lo general viene para al menos contarme cómo le fue y solo quería asegurarme de que estaba bien.

Hello ma'am, how is Soos? I haven't seen him and I know it's his first day back in school. I told him there's no working the first week back but he usually stops by to at least tell me how it went and I just wanted to make sure he's okay.

[tobitofunction]

The Pact of ice and fire Part 6

part 1 part 2 part 3 part4 part 5 part 7

"Prince Jacerys is dead" Cregan's words echoed in your head, you watched the snowflakes fall from the skies. Winter, Cregan's dire wolf lay beside you, she returned from wherever she was. Cregan was surprised at her action usually she followed him around but this time Winter ignored her bonded human and lay beside his wife. Her large head was on your lap, your hand disappearing in her fur,"Jealous?" Sarah asked making Cregan look at her,"Winter is ignoring you for the first time" she explained," She must feel her pain, y/n could use Winter's affection more than me" he said looking at his wife with a sympathetic look,"What's in your hand?" Cregan said nodding towards Sarah's hand,"A letter from Queen Rhaenyra, she wants y/n to return to her side at Dragonstone" she said while handing him the page,"She is safer in Winterfell" Cregan stated after he finished reading the letter,"Rhaenyra is our Queen, her word is law Cregan and y/n needs to attend his funeral, she needs to say goodbye" Sarah reasoned making him sigh," I join her than"," She is going on Dragonback most likely-", "Tell servants to pack my and her essentials" Sarah just nodded knowing there is no place to argue.

Cregan slowly walked towards you, Winter lifted her head from your lap and looked at Cregan before returning to rest her head on your lap, "My dear wife, your mother wrote, she is requesting your presence in Dragonstone" he said softly making you turn to him, "I will be joining you" he said taking your hand his, "Thank you".

Cregan stared at Tyraxes while you got her saddle ready, the dragon's head was hung low, sad roars left her throat."Are sure you want to leave my Lord?" Cerwyn asked," I can't leave her in this state, she is my wife, I need to be by her side" he answered,"As you wish but as a friend I am asking you, are you sure you want to ride a dragon?" he smiled,"I'm married to one, it be fine, I trust her skill and I will just ignore the height and just focus on her," he said rubbing his chin, Cerwyn chuckled,"If you die at least you die a legend, the first and last Northmen to ride a dragon, in two ways" he winked making Cregan shove him, "We are ready," you said walking towards the two friends, "So am I," he said, you nodded,"Don't be nervous, she can sense that," you said,"I'm not nervous....okay I am a little bit nervous, but I trust your skills," he said, you smiled softly,"Just hold on tightly," you said as Tyraxes kneeled closer to the ground allowing you to climb on easier, your dragon let out a roar as Cregan climbed behind you, his arms tighten around your waist as Tyraxes straightened her stance,"Ready?" you asked,"Yes" he mumbled, you tugged on the reins signalling for Tyraxes to start flying.

Meanwhile, Cerwyn and Sarah watched from far,"I wish I could paint quickly" Sarah said amused seeing her usual cool and collected brother look like a nervous wreck,"He would kill us" Cerwyn chuckled but nodded in agreement.

The wind whipped in Cregan's face, his fur coat flapped aggressively in the wind behind him, it was colder up here than below his grip tightened on your waist, and he buried his face in your hair. You smiled to yourself feeling him do it, soon however Tryaxes flight steadied, she glided through the clouds like a leave. Cregan loosened his grip on you, he took a sharp breath as he took in his surroundings, the sun peaked through the clouds, and the snow-covered North below him looked like it was drawn.

Tyraxes landed soon in Dragonstone, Cregan frowned as he stepped off the dragon,"It was to quick, it felt like we just left Winterfell" he said grabbing your waist to help you off Tyraxe's,"I know, it's just magical, it never gets old" you smiled looking up at him,"You ruined horse riding and sailing for me" he added making you smile,"Princess Y/N, we welcome you" Ser Erryk said he bowed his head,"Your mother awaits you and your husband" he said,"Thank you Ser Erryk, it brings me joy to see you still alive" you smiled,"I could say the same thing to you my Princess" he said looking down at you softly.

Rhaenyra paced in the main hall waiting for you to arrive, Joffrey and Aegon were clinging to her side, as soon as the door opened the boys let go of their mother and raced towards you, nearly knocking you over as they hugged you,"My sweet brothers, you are well, I'm so glad" you said kneeling down to meet their heights to hug them probably, tears falling down your eyes as you kissed their cheeks." Y/N, my sweet daughter, my oldest" Rhaenyra said gaining your attention, you pulled away from your brothers and hugged your mother, she held you close,"You've grown my girl, you are a woman know" she said cupping your cheek, she looked behind you and saw Cregan,"Lord Cregan, I liked to talk you for taking care of my daughter" she said,"She is my wife, it's my job like it's my job to return you to the throne" he said making Daemon nod,"Than Lord Stark, let's have a meeting on how you will do it" Rhaenyra sighed,"We have funerals Daemon, a war meeting can wait" she said,"Funerals?","Rhaenys died as well, she fought Aegon and Aemond bravely and managed to harm the false king, young Visery's is missing" Coryl said appearing behind you and Cregan,"Why wasn't I told this in the letter of Jace's death", Rhaenyra sighed,"We are sorry but telling you the news about Jace death was our priority" she said making Corly's click his tongue,” You are my heir now Y/N, you are Princess of Dragonstone” she said making you take a deep breath,” It’s an honour to be your heir your Grace” she smiled sadly and kissed your forehead.

You watch Jace and Rhaeny’s remains burn in the tradition of your house. Tyraxe’s head hung low once again, the ashes were poured into caskets and moved to the sea, Cregan’s hand was wrapped around your hand, giving you strength as you felt like collapsing any second as you watched the caskets being thrown into the sea, the prayers being said are falling on deaf ears as you clung to Cregan,” It’s all Aegon’s fault, he is sitting on the throne he doesn’t belong to you, all this blood is because of him” you spat watching the casket sink into the depths of the sea.” He and the greens will be punished for what they did my love” his hands wrapped around your neck, his thumb rubbing your chin,” I promised to give your family your thrown back in exchange for your hand in marriage. I always keep my promise” he said kissing you gently,” You warmed my heart, I believed it was frozen but it was just waiting for you thaw it” he said leaning his head forehead against yours,” Thank you Cregan” you said softly against his lips,"I hate to interrupt but I need your husband for a meeting" Daemon interject making you glare ate him," I will see you after" he said leaving with Daemon.

"I will return to Winterfell soon enough, I will gather my men and marsh south once again," Cregan said, you watched through the secret passage, as a child you and your brothers would play hide and seek within these walls, they became tighter throughout the years, as you become bigger, you aren't the small child you were back than. "If you stayed in Winterfell you could have started to march already" Daemon said,"I wanted to support my wife" Cregan responded,"The Princess needs to stay here" Rhaenyra added,"She is a Stark now, she will be needed in the north, a Stark always needs to stay in Winterfell" he reasoned,"No Stark is Winterfell now" Daemon countered,"This an expectation," he said calmly,"She will stay here, she is your wife but she is also know my Heir, she needs to stay close to me," Rhaenyra said slowly becoming emotional,"I can't keep her safe is she is alone in Winterfell" she added, "She be safe in Winterfell" Cregan argued. You shook your head and rushed out of the secret passageway,"Stop trying to make decisions for me" you said barging into the room. Everyone stopped to look at you, "I'm not a child anymore, I'm a dragon rider, I can fight as well, let me help" The three looked at each other before looking back at you,"You are my oldest child, my only daughter, my heir. I can't afford to lose you, I lost too much already, my heart can't take another loss" Rhaenyra explained calmly,"I want to help","I know you do, and I know your capable of helping but the greens will be coming for you","The more reasons to let me help, I don't want to is around and wait to be attacked", Rhaenyra sighed,"If she wants to help, let her" Daemon said taking you by surprise,"Head back to the north, build up your army and come back to fight for the throne" he added, Cregan sighed but he nodded,"It be my greatest pleasure to fight alongside you my dear wife" he said getting up and walking towards you, he kissed your temple, you smiled at Cregan and looked at your mother,"Very well, if you want to fight, I will let you fight".

"Don't go" Aegon said grabbing your wrist, tears pooling in his dark purple eyes making them look even darker,"I will be back soon Egg, you need to stay strong and take care of Mother" You kissed his forehead, his grip is still strong around your wrist as you turn to Joffrey, "The same goes to you Joff, you are the big brother now, take care of Egg","Please take us with you, I can fly on my dragon-", "Mother needs you Joff, your place is here for the moment" you said playing with his curls.

Tyraxe's landed in the middle of the Winterfell castle, "You guys are back" Sarah said walking out of the castles,"Tell the Maesters to send out letters for everyone to prepare themselves to march down south" Cregan said as you got of Tyraxes, "We are getting our dragon queen on her throne"

[billybatsonbrainrot]

Can you do 4 or 9 please?

Part 2 of Goodbye Marvel: What does the Justice League think about this? (Part 1 is the post below this)

After Billy decides to quit being Captain Marvel, he realizes that means he's quitting the Justice League as well. No more monitor duty, meetings, patrol, and going on missions that lasts for days, sometimes weeks. He never realized how much time being Captain Marvel took from him. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't have much of a personal life before any of this; he spent more time as Cap then he did himself. Well, it was time to change that.

Billy doesn't outright quit the League. He knows it would be easier to tell them, but he doesn't want to confront them after lying to them all this time. They would probably be more understanding if he had told them about his identity in the first place. And he's still not turning into Captain Marvel because he's wary of what the gods would do.

Instead, Billy sneaks out one night and goes deep into the woods in Fawcett City with a shovel and a shoebox containing his JL communicator. He digs a hole that takes hours while he's having conflicting emotions, he feels sorrow and resentment at the same time. Is he really doing this? Yes, he is. He buries the shoebox several feet under the ground and leaves. But not before saying a few words, having a makeshift funeral for his dead alter ego.

Meanwhile, the Justice League start to wonder where Captain Marvel has gone. He has not been seen in weeks. When the weeks turn into months, they start to worry. His absence does not go unnoticed in the hero community nor the public.

Eventually, they got to a point where they have to go looking for him. They track down his comm and to their surprise it shows it's in Fawcett, Cap's city but no captain in sight. They all go down there to see what's going on. They're led deep into the depths of some woods close to the city and they find nothing.

Everyone spreads out to look for clues. It's not until Batman points out a patch on the ground that looks freshly dug up that Superman uses his x-ray vision to look down and finds the Captain's comm buried inside a shoebox. They're able to dig it up in no time and Batman is able to confirm that it is indeed his. But what is it doing there? Did Cap bury it? For what reason?

With Captain Marvel's comm in their hands, they realize that there is no way to have their questions answered if they have no way to find him. That's when they have the idea to call Zatanna. Maybe she has a spell that shows what events happened in this forest. And she does.

When she gets there, she points out that there was a strong magical aura left in the area and it will take her a while to do the spell. They wonder if it's Cap's, maybe he was the one who buried his comm. But when Zatanna performs the spell, they see a small, hooded figure instead. They see him dig the hole and placing the box there and burying it, but they are unable to see his face because of the hood and it being nighttime when it happened. It's obviously a child. The figure finally finishes and stays there for a moment in total silence. It's when he starts talking that they are left frozen in shock. They can't believe the words coming out of the kid's mouth.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, captain. You used to be the best part of my life" He started off.

"I looked forward to seeing you more than anyone else, even myself at one point. You really were a ray of light in the darkness. You were able to make everyone's day better, but not mine." The league stared at him confused.

"You ended up being more trouble than your worth. You only bring chaos with you" Some league members gave him a look of disapproval.

"I think... I'm glad I got rid of you" That got everyone's attention

"My life actually improved now that you're gone. And I think that's kind of funny. I would have said the opposite about a year ago." What the hell is this kid even saying?

"Your responsibilities only caused disturbance to my life" That caused more confusion. Why would Cap's hero duties cause a disturbance? Was the kid secretly a villain?

"The only thing that will be a nuisance now is the fact that everyone will probably be worrying about where you've gone. But they won't be able to find anything" Some members got a stern look on their face.

"I have no doubt that the Justice League would come looking for you. But I think I'll just give it a few months before they stop looking. Were you even that great of a hero?" Who did this kid think he is? The league members got angered on the captain's behalf.

"Well, you were my hero. Even if I was the one that made you disappear, I'm still going to miss you" How dare he? A ghost of smile can be seen on face when he turned towards the moonlight. But the upper half of his face was still not visible. Oh, how they wanted to smack that smile off his face.

The words that came out of his mouth was like a messed-up eulogy. The kid started off praising Captain Marvel to degrading him, calling him a nuisance.

"Goodbye Marvel" are the last words he says before he turned around and left. Zatanna's spell stops there, unable to track him any further.

The league has no idea who the kid is or what kind of relationship he had with Captain Marvel, but they are certain of one thing: the kid was responsible Cap's disappearance. He killed Captain Marvel.

Some of the heroes were still in denial. There's no way they couldn't save one of their own. No way Cap would lose to some kid. Maybe the kid just thinks he killed Captain Marvel. But he had magic strong enough that not even Zatanna can track him down. And he was right about them not being able to find anything. He made Captain Marvel disappear off the face of the earth without any of them knowing.

Most of them left in tears that day.

A day later, they're all in the meeting room discussing yesterday's events and their newfound piece of knowledge.

Zatanna says something that ignites hope in them. Captain Marvel can't be dead because he was the Champion of Magic, a title the league doesn't know much about, but Zatanna assures them that if Cap really dead, the world as they know it would be thrown in complete chaos and destruction. However, there were cases where the Champion would be sealed away in a magical prison by powerful magical beings.

So, the kid did not kill Cap. To be fair, he didn't say that he did, just that he got rid of him. Maybe he was referring to sealing the captain away. That still angered them. How dare he do such an awful thing to Cap. He did nothing to deserve this! He was the sweetest person anyone could ever meet!

They hoped they could find him soon. Zatanna said some champions were locked away for centuries.

If they are able to find the kid, Zatanna would be able to assess his magic level and see if he was a threat. They could get answers as to where he hid the captain and why he did it.

The Justice League had a new goal. Find the kid and get answers. Some of them weren't above kicking his ass.