#can’t think of how to lead into it but eventually he’d go to the Bats (or maybe Red Hood specifically) to ask for their help

[stars-obsession-pit]

Danny has been de-aged, and his memories are fuzzy but not entirely gone.

He knows that something is wrong, that he’s missing something important, but he has no idea what. He doesn’t even fully know who he is—nor does anyone else he’s met in Gotham. And no matter how much he wracks his brain, he can’t seem to figure it out.

Sure, he sometimes remembers snippets. But he can never follow them anywhere, the trains of thought slipping away from his grasp far too quickly to analyze.

He’s not sure quite how much time he’s lost just spiraling about how if he could just fucking think straight for once maybe it’d all be fine, but it’s certainly been a lot.

At first, he’d debated going to the police to ask for help. But even before he heard the stories from other street kids, something in his gut told him not to. To avoid anything connected to the government. To hide. To never let anyone know he has powers.

Combined with the half-remembered nightmares of being cut open, it doesn’t paint a good picture in his mind.

Sometimes, a terrified piece of him wonders if this is all there was, if his entire life was constrained to those white-walled cells until he escaped into Gotham’s streets. He tries not to think about that option too much.

[sluttysnowangel666]

Pentagon - thanos/ choi su bong x reader

request/summary: at your friend nam gyu’s request, you accept an invitation to “black out night” at his club, where he also invited his friend thanos. you both cross paths, leading to an interesting… discussion.

pairings: su bong/thanos x reader

warnings: smut, club hook up, fingering, p in v, unprotected, fwb mentioned with nam gyu, drug use.

use discretion when reading past the line. not responsible for the content you consume. 18+, mdni

———

“You’re such a fake friend!”

“Oh, Jesus, Nam Gyu. Will you grow up? It’s a Wednesday night-“

“But it’s black out Wednesday!” He whines, throwing his head into your pillow.

He’d been begging you to come to his stupid club for weeks, but each time you only responded with a “Maybe. I’ll decide for sure later,” which you never ended up doing. Now, the night before had finally came and you were set in your decision that no, you would not be attending.

“Yeah, which means Thanksgiving is Thursday-“

“What makes you think I give a fuck about some stupid American holiday?” He yells.

“What makes you think I give a fuck about getting black out drunk at your stupid club?!” You yelled back, the words coming out before they could stop. Your hand flew over your mouth, and Nam Gyu’s playful demeanor changed. “Nam Gyu, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Whatever. See you after the holiday, I guess.” He says, grabbing his coat to leave.

“Wait, Nam Gyu, don’t go. We still have to smoke, Nam Gyu!” You called after him, as he quietly closed the door behind him. You sighed.

“Fuck.” you had really done it this time.

You hurt his feelings when all he had wanted to do was spend some time with his friend at his club since you never go out. And now that you had dug yourself into this hole, the only way you could dig yourself out was by going.

You texted and called his phone, but he didn’t answer. And at this point, the only way to get his forgiveness was to just show up.

So, you took an everything shower, laid out one of your few dresses best fit for a club(a cute little short and black strapless dress that wasn’t leaving much up to imagination), and then went to bed.

Of course, you didn’t sleep well. Your mind was racing with thoughts of what tomorrow night would hold, because you weren’t one to make the best decisions when drunk. In fact, you and Nam Gyu had hooked up once or twice after attending his club and getting too hammered. It would probably happen again this time, but you felt like you owed it to him after your outburst.

The night eventually came, and your outfit was was jaw dropping. The second you stepped out of the cab outside Club Pentagon, all eyes were on you.

You stepped inside, the music and bass thumping your whole body. Men were throwing themselves at your feet, but you had a mission. A mission to find Nam Gyu, get wasted on free drinks, and head back to his place to hook up.

You weaved through the crowded dance floor to the VIP area, assuming he’d be in his usual booth.

“You can’t come back here.” The bouncer outside the section says, placing an unnecessary hand on your chest. You stared up at the tall guard, his height towering yours.

“I’m here to see Nam Gyu, I’m his friend.”

“Are you on the list?”

“I don’t think so, he didn’t know I was coming. Just go tell him it’s Y/N.”

The bouncer turns, eyeing Nam Gyu’s usual booth that was covered by a curtain.

“He’s busy.”

“Bullshit, you didn’t even check.” You say, but he ignores you. “Please just let me in, he’s literally my best friend.”

“Then why haven’t I ever seen you before?”

“I don’t come out often. Just come on please?”

He eyes you, saying nothing.

“Pretty please?” You bat your eyelashes at him.

He was just about to fold, when a man walks up beside you.

“How’s it goin’, brother?” The bouncer greets him much more politely than he did you.

“Not too bad. Should be under Thanos.” The man says. The bouncer checks the list before nodding and lifting the red rope. Just before the man crosses, he glances at you. His gaze lingers, squinting as he attempts to put a name to your face.

“Hold up, I know you.” He says, pointing. “Uhh… fuck… I think it’s… Y/N, right? Nam Gyu’s little side piece.”

“We’re just friends, actually.” You respond, a slight hint of venom on your tongue.

He smirks. “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, ready to give up and turn to go to the dance floor, before he stops you.

“Wait, aren’t you coming back here?” He asks.

“Nam Gyu didn’t put me on the list.” You say. He laughs, assuming a deeper meaning than what there actually was. It felt pathetic, appearing as if you were just a little forgotten floozy chasing after Nam Gyu.

“Come on, señorita.” He says, holding his hand out to you. You don’t wanna accept, given his cocky nature, but you also don’t wanna be on the cramped dance floor alone.

You take his hand, and he gives the bouncer a slight nod before pulling you towards Nam Gyu’s booth. He pulls open the curtain, revealing Nam Gyu with his jeans slightly lowered, legs spread, getting what appeared to be one hell of a blowjob.

“Whoa! Get the fuck-Oh, shit! Y/N, my girl, what the hell are you doing here?” He asks, way too happy to see you, given you interrupting him. The girl pulls off him, covering her face in shame. He pulls up his jeans and fixes his belt as the girl runs off.

He leans over the table to hug you. “Ew. Don’t touch me.” You say, holding up your hands and leaning away in disgust.

Thanos laughs, reaching his hand out to dap up Nam Gyu. “How you been, brother?”

“Can’t complain.” Nam Gyu says, giving him a ‘bro hug’ and leaning back into the leather couch. The table in front of him is a wreck, filled with empty glasses and lines of coke just waiting to be snorted.

“Help yourselves.” He says, noticing you staring at the table.

“I think I’m okay.” You say, disdain in your voice.

“Such a priss.” Thanos mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, his voice laced with a challenge.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” You spit at him.

“No.” He says, shaking his head with a grin.

“I didn’t think so.”

He smiles even wider. You roll your eyes, taking the rolled up dollar bill from his hand.

“Whoa, Y/N. Don’t think you need to prove anything to this guy.” Nam Gyu teases.

“Trust me,” You snort a line, then look at Thanos and say, “I know.”

His smile falters, just slightly, knowing you’d won the battle.

But, would you win the war?

As the night begins Nam Gyu orders rounds and rounds of shots for you all, back to back, non stop. You grew more drunk with each shot, and your body fought you to force them out everytime you forced one down.

Thanos inched closer to you as the night progressed, until eventually his thigh was touching yours.

His rough jeans scratched your bare leg, but you were so far gone you hadn’t paid it any mind.

“So, Y/N,” Thanos drags your name on his tongue. “What does someone like you do for a living?”

“Someone like me?” You ask, sipping on your drink.

“Yeah, someone so… uptight.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and setting your drink down. “You’re so insufferable. How does anyone stand to be around you?”

“Usually they’re sitting.” He jokes, nudging your knee with his.

“Hm. Well maybe I should stand then.”

“You never answered the question.”

“Huh?” You ask, already having forgotten it in your drunken state.

“What do you do for a living?” He asks, irritated this time.

“I’m an assistant attorney.” You say.

“Well, maybe you can help me with a crypto problem of mine then.”

“You’re on your own there.” You say. “What do you do for work? That is, if you even work.”

“So mean.” He teases. “I’m a rapper.”

You laugh, so hard that your stomach hurts. You’re leaning over, gripping his arm for support as you try to pull yourself together as best you can. “Oh, my god. It makes so much sense.”

He’s not smiling. In fact, he’s irritated at how unserious you’re taking him.

“Sing to me.” You slur.

“I said rap, not sing. Learn the difference. Since you’re so smart, with your fancy lawyer degree.”

“Aw, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You laugh at him.

“Don’t make me take yours off.” He attempts to tests the waters, but he’s so drunk he just dove straight in. His breath catches as he waits for your response, he knows for sure he scared you off now.

“I’m not wearing any.” You respond, smirking. He smirks back at you, amused by your warm and flushed cheeks. He glances past you at Nam Gyu, dead asleep on the other couch.

“Rap to me.” You pull his attention back to you.

He pulls something out of the air, free styling to the beat of the music that radiates through the club. The words go in one ear and out the other, but you’re still pretending to listen.

You nod and laugh, so drunk. He laughs back, reeling you in with that sweet smile and those pearly white teeth.

He rests his hand on your knee, drawing little circles. He’s waiting, testing, challenging you.

Your hand grabs his, moving it slowly up your thigh, all the while staring into each other’s souls.

Thanos fingers graze your inner thighs, feeling the heat of your cunt through your panties.

“Liar.” He says, his face inching closer to yours.

“Where’d I lie?” You smirk, your fingers grazing up his chest and to his neck.

“You said you weren’t wearing any panties.”

You’re both so close, yet so far.

“Guess I’m just full of surprises, huh?”

“Yes, you are.”

You break, closing the distance between you both as you grab his collar to yank his lips into yours. Your teeth clash together, the kiss rough and drunk and desperate. So desperate, so full of need.

His tongue sneaks pasts your lips, desperate to taste every part of your mouth. You taste so good; your lips the flavor of fruit and vodka.

One hand wraps around your throat, holding you for balance, the other moves your panties to the side to rub your wetness with his fingers.

You break the kiss, moaning.

“Shh. You don’t wanna wake him up now, do you?” He says, looking over at Nam Gyu, who was out like a light.

“Fuck, I-I don’t care. I want you.” You moan. The music was so loud anyway. You should be fine, right?

He slips a finger in you, drawing gasps and moans from your lips. You roll your hips into his fingers, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into you. You moan right in his ear, fueling him to fuck you with his fingers even harder.

He kisses you again, rough and sloppy. You’re too coked out to notice the way your lips are starting to bruise. Your nails dig into his arm, and your moans are trapped in his mouth as you inch closer to your release.

He pulls away, growing even more hard as he hears your whiny moans.

“Beg for me.” He tells you.

“You annoying fuck.” You moan, and he curls his fingers in you. “Fuck, fuck, okay. Please, please, Thanos. I need you to fuck me.”

He urges your finish and you’re a whimpering mess onto his shoulder, a string of curses and his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

He pushes down his jeans, taking off your pink panties and stuffing them in his pocket to keep as a reminder of you. If you had been sober you would’ve fought for them because they were your favorite pair, but unfortunately you were too desperate to be fucked to pay it any mind.

He thrust himself into you, not even wrapping himself first. Your nails dig into his back, moaning in ecstasy. His whispers in your ear are breathless and dirty, an attempt to make you a mess beneath him,

which was succeeding.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and you begged for that man in the most heartbreaking way. He was grinning ear to ear above you.

You, such an uptight little priss, falling apart beneath him.

“Who’s your daddy?” He teases.

“Ew, shut the fuck up.” You say in disgust, but the whine in your voice betrays you. He sucks on your neck, leaving bruised and purple hickeys on every inch. You were gonna be so screwed at work.

“You know you like it.” He groans in your neck. “Little prissy princess.”

You scoffed in response, still moaning. You hated to admit it, but you did kinda like it.

“Say you like it.” He slows his thrusts.

“No.” You moan. He slams into you, hitting your cervix. “Oh, god, I l-love it.”

He smirks, “You love ittt…?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “I love it, daddy.”

“There’s a good gjrl.” He picks his pace back up, fucking you relentlessly. You fingers trail under his shirt, clawing his chest.

“I’m so close.” You whine.

“Come on, then. Give it to me.” He growls. You come undone, screaming in ecstasy, barely even audible over the music.

But he hears it, and it pushes him over the edge. He spills into you, whining just like how you were.

He pulls out, sitting upright and fixing his jeans. The clarity hit him like a train, and he knew he was cooked. He needed to see you again, and you hadn’t even left yet.

He looked over at you, hand on your forehead as you caught your breath, legs spread and pussy on full display to him still.

He glanced over at Nam Gyu, who was laying down staring right back at Thanos. Thanos’ breath hitched slightly, but Nam Gyu just held a finger to his lips and closed his eyes, pretending he hadn’t even stirred in his sleep.

By the time Thanos looked back at you, you had fallen asleep too. He pushed your legs down so your body was straight, then he fixed your dress by tugging it down so far no one could even get an idea. He took off his jacket(his favorite one!) and draped it over your legs.

He got up and left, knowing you were safe with Nam Gyu there…

knowing he had to see you again.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Chemtrails Over the Country Club

It’s loud at this party. In this house. Whenever the fuck Coriolanus is right now. He can barely hear himself think with the bass of the speakers rattling his skull.

But he’s not here to think.

He’s here to sell.

He’s a drug dealer. Wasn’t always a drug dealer. No, he had great ambitions, big dreams but dreams don’t always come true. When his grandmother got sick he didn’t know what to do, who to ask for help.

He remembers it so clearly, how he’d been called into the office at the Academy, to talk to the Dean about his failing grades. Dean Highbottom wasn’t a sympathetic man, especially since he for some reason, despised Coriolanus and his father.

His father was dead, so he didn’t really get that part.

Coriolanus had brushed it off though, for the sake of the conversation. He’d told the Dean about his financial troubles and all while doing this Highbottom was pulling out a bottle, unscrewing the cap, and dropping a few drops of something into his mouth.

Coriolanus saw how relaxed the Dean became, how much happier he seemed, slower, calmer.

Coriolanus started selling morphling. Along with other various drugs but morphing was his biggest seller. That’s why he comes to these parties where stupid rich kids blow all their parent's money when other people can barely afford to get by as it is.

Coriolanus isn’t rich, but he isn’t poor. He’s a drug dealer, that in itself explains his financial situation.

Once his grandmother died, he inherited his apartment, his penthouse. It wasn’t much, still isn’t much, but it’s paid for, and it’s his.

He’s supposed to be looking for customers, regulars, and anyone in between but he can’t help but glance over at the couch by the fireplace where a pretty girl with blonde hair is sitting, laughing with her friends.

He can’t see her face but he knows she’s pretty, has a pretty face, pretty laugh, pretty smile.

He’s distracted from pretty when one of his old classmates gives him a wave, nodding towards the stairs that lead up to the second floor of whoever’s house this is. Coriolanus nods and makes his way over to the couch, his fingers slipping into her soft hair as he gently tugs her head back.

Soarynn looks up at him, a smile splayed across her lips, “Yes?”

He glances back at the stairs to see his classmate making their way up already, “Gonna head upstairs,” he tells her over the music, “be careful okay?”

Soarynn nods, giving him a wink, “I’ll be so careful,” she sarcastically remarks. He rolls his eyes and places a kiss on her forehead before going upstairs.

Having a girlfriend is hard enough already. You need to know what to say, what to wear, how to touch her, how to take care of her. It’s fucking exhausting is what it is. But not when it’s with Soarynn.

Coriolanus met her one night at a nightclub, Plubirus Bell’s nightclub to be specific. She’s a waitress there, and she’s pretty damn good at her job since it involves a lot of flirting.

She worked her charm on Coriolanus, batting those long lashes, keeping up with his sense of humor and not batting an eye when he’d shifted in his seat, revealing the gun he carried on him at all times.

Two hours later he was fucking her in the club's bathroom, drunk on something sweet and she was something sweeter.

He tried to shake her off after that. It was for her own safety. He was a dangerous man living a dangerous lifestyle. This wasn’t the place for romance. Someone could hurt her, he could hurt her. But Soarynn was so damn persistent, always meeting up with him on her breaks, always finding him at parties trying to buy off of him even though he never sold her anything. He didn’t want her on that shit.

Eventually, after enough shaking, Soarynn stuck onto him like glue and they’d been that way ever since. She wasn’t as soft as she looked, she had her own rough edges, her own heartbreaks, and scars. And she knew he wasn’t perfect, wasn’t the most thoughtful person or kindest person but that was alright with her.

Coriolanus made his way up the stairs and found his classmate nervously shifting in the dark hallway, “Let’s go in here,” Coriolanus says, walking into the nearest bedroom. He doesn’t like doing deals in a dark hallway, it’s almost cliche to him, like doing shit in a dark alley while wearing a trench coat.

“So um, I heard you sell morphling,” his classmate says, shoving his hands in his pockets. It slightly annoys Coriolanus but only because you never know what someone might pull out. He’s been stabbed before, he remembers how odd it was to see bright red blood on his pale porcelain skin. All because he wouldn’t sell some asshole ten vials of morphling for the price of five.

But what he remembers most was how many shifts Soarynn had to take on to cover his hospital bills. Being a drug dealer wasn’t always the best source of income, wasn’t always reliable, and never looked good in the eyes of the law. It looked much better if the money was coming from Soarynn who’d been working at her job for a good five years.

It still didn’t make Coriolanus feel any better while he rested up, watching her work herself to the bone while they only had one source of income until he could start selling again.

He found that asshole the day he got his stitches out. Beat him until you couldn’t make out his face, stole his wallet too. Coriolanus bought Soarynn whatever the fuck she wanted that day, happy to see her smiling as she bit into a chocolate pastry.

No one hurt his girl. Ever.

“How much do you need?” He asks, looking his classmate up and down. He’s some rich boy who probably doesn’t even remember Coriolanus but that doesn’t really matter right now since he’s gonna be the one paying. Soarynn’s been wanting some new shoes for work and this deal is gonna pay for them. Before his classmate can ever respond the sound of gunshots causes them both to freeze.

Coriolanus feels his blood run cold when he hears screams and he’s bolting downstairs in an instant.

It’s chaos downstairs. Lights are still strobing, music is still playing and everyone is running around. His eyes dart to the couch where he last saw her and it's empty.

She’s gone.

“I’ll be so careful.”

Those words play over and over in his head as he pushes through the panicked crowd, yelling his girlfriend’s name. He can’t see her blonde head of hair, can’t see anything with so many people in the way. Until he sees the dark curls of Sejanus Plinth, one of his good friends. “Plinth!” He yells, desperately trying to get to his friend. Sejanus who’s near the door glances back and his eyes widen at the sight of Coriolanus, “Coryo! C’mon, we’ve gotta get out of here!”

Coriolanus swears when someone bumps into him, sending his gun scattering onto the ground. This, of course, causes people to freak out even more and some wide-eyed twenty-year-old is pointing his finger at him like they’re at recess, “He’s got a gun!” He cries. Coriolanus isn’t even able to fully process what happens next. All of a sudden he’s got his hands behind his back and he’s being shoved into the back of a Peacekeeper truck.

Sejanus is right behind him, free of handcuffs and pleading for his friend's innocence, “He didn’t do anything! He’s not the shooter!” One Peacekeeper holds out his hand, silencing Sejanus, “Listen, kid, a few people are injured, we’ve got more than one suspect, just keep it moving before we take you in too.”

Sejanus swallows at the thought of also being taken into the station and he locks eyes with Coriolanus, “We’ll get you out,” he says before the doors close shut.

Third Person POV

Tears stream down Soarynn’s face while she stares at the floor. She’s sitting on Festus Creed’s bed while Festus paces back and forth in front of her, frantically making phone calls.

Tonight has taken a toll on all of them.

One minute they’d been enjoying a party and the next shots were going off and everyone was running in every which direction.

Festus had found Soarynn immediately, grabbing her and dragging her out despite her protests to wait for her boyfriend to come and find her.

Festus was one of Coriolanus’s closest friends and he knew the blond well enough to know that he’d actually kill him if he found out he hadn’t gotten his girl out safely when he had the chance.

They’d made it out onto the street, finding Sejanus as well who ran back into the house to find Coriolanus.

Soarynn had chewed the inside of her cheek raw as they waited outside, the cold air biting into her skin. Normally Coriolanus would give her his jacket but things were far from normal.

They’d heard the Peacekeeper trucks rolling up and Festus was quick to suggest they clear it before they were being questioned. It didn’t help that he had drugs on him, along with two guns so he was anxious to leave.

They’d gone to the city centre where they eventually ran back into Sejanus who was without Coriolanus. “He’s been arrested,” he’d panted, “they took him into the station.”

Which is how they were in this current predicament. In all her years of dating Coriolanus, she’d never thought he’d get arrested, and for something he didn’t even do.

“We have to get him out!” She cries, pulling her knees up to her chest as she looks up at the boys, her mascara running down her cheeks.

They both exchanged nervous looks, both for the situation they were currently in and the state Soarynn was currently in.

Although he’d never admit it, Coriolanus Snow had an extremely soft spot for his girlfriend and his girlfriend only. He wasn’t even nice to other girls. To see Soarynn cry would anger him beyond reasoning and he’d do everything in his power to make her feel better. But he was arrested so they were fucked.

“His bail won’t be posted until early this morning,” Festus says, stopping to tap his foot. He was slightly strung out. Tonight’s events had brought the more desperate side of Festus Creed, someone who much like Coriolanus and Soarynn, hadn’t grown up with money and was doing the best with what he had. He’d been so stressed that he’d tapped into his own stash, snorting one line to calm himself down.

Soarynn frowned up at him, “Is that all we can do? We can’t go down to the station and give a statement?”

Both boys shudder at the thought of willingly going to where the Peacekeepers gathered. Coriolanus was most likely fuming behind bars right now and they didn’t long to join him. “They could question us Sejanus says with a sigh, “and we’d be no good to Coryo if we’re also behind bars.”

Soarynn bites her lip and nods, he’s right. They’ll just have to wait.

“You sleep here,” Festus tells her, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “we’ll come wake you before we go to get him.”

Soarynn forces a small smile and nods, “Okay, thank you both for taking care of me tonight,” she says, looking up at both boys. They’ve become a small family over the years, all dealt a shitty hand at life but still managing to play their cards to the best of their abilities.

Sejanus grins, “We’re family, it’s what we do. Now try and get some sleep, Nightingale.”

Soarynn rolls her eyes and watches both boys leave the bedroom, closing the door behind them. All the dealers she knows of go by their last name. Snow, Creed, Plinth. And while Coriolanus would never let her sell anything, they often all joke around and call her by her last name as well.

It’s hard for her to fall asleep, to do anything but worry for her boyfriend who should be here with her, not behind bars. They should be back home, curled up in their bed, his arms around her while he presses kisses to her back.

Festus was right though, she should get some sleep before the bail is posted. Soarynn looks around the small bedroom and wonders how many girls Festus had brought in here and suddenly the bed feels much filthier. Festus doesn’t live too far from her and Coriolanus but his apartment is significantly smaller, he calls it his bachelor pad. Whatever the hell that means.

Soarynn manages to get a few hours of sleep before there’s a knock at the door and she’s bolting up right to answer it. It’s Festus and he looks like he hasn’t gotten much sleep either, “They posted his bail,” he says sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Soarynn nervously tugs at the shirt he lent her, “How much is it? Can we go get him right now? Is he okay?”

Festus holds up his hands, “Woah, woah, too many questions kid. First, it’s four thousand to get him out.”

Soarynn can’t stop the gasp from leaving her lips. Four thousand is a lot of money, more money than she has saved up. Obviously, her line of work is safer, more legal but she doesn’t even know if Coriolanus has that much stashed away somewhere and if he does then she hasn’t a clue where to find it.

Festus nods as if agreeing with her gasp, “Secondly, we’re gonna go get him, you are going to stay here in case some other shit goes down. And I have no idea how Coryo’s holding up, they wouldn’t let me talk to him when I called.”

Soarynn slouches, this is horrible, rotten luck for all of them and her boyfriend’s paying the price for it. Speaking of the price…how are they going to get him out?

“I have two thousand,” she says, “so that’s half.”

Fetus softens his expression slightly, “Soarynn you don’t need to do that,” he tells her, “we can scrounge up enough money and I can make some cal-“

“I want him home Festus,” Soarynn cuts him off, “I don’t give a fuck if I have to start working more shifts or working the corner, I want him back.”

That seems to be final enough because Festus begrudgingly nods, “Okay,” he agrees, “we’ll go get him.”

Coriolanus POV

He’s fuming. Absolutely fuming.

Coriolanus sits on the edge of the bench while he stares out into the hallway that runs between cells.

Fucking arrested and for something he didn’t even do.

This might have been the longest seven hours of his entire life and the Peacekeepers certainly made sure of that. They asked him all sorts of questions, most of them were so fucking stupid but they were persistent on asking them.

It was hard for him to focus though, hard for him to think of anything but Soarynn.

Was she okay? Did she get shot? Did someone hurt her?

He’d gotten so worried he even asked the two Peacekeepers who were questioning him if they’d seen her.

“Don’t mean to interrupt you,” he’d said curtly, leaning forward, “but you didn’t see a blonde girl in that group of people who got hurt right?”

They’d both exchanged confused looks on why this delinquent was asking them a question but one of them took the bait, “Blonde girl you said?”

Coriolanus had nodded, cracking his knuckles as he leaned back in the cold metal chair, “Yeah. Blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles across her face, she’s about five-six. She’s my girl. Was trying to find her when I got arrested.” He’d shot them a dirty look, hoping maybe they’d feel some guilt.

They’d promised to check the hospital and finished questioning him before sending him into an all too crowded cell, full of other people who’d been arrested tonight.

Coriolanus kept his head down, kept quiet while a few other guys whispered to each other. He didn’t even care about being arrested, that it would be on his permanent record, he just cared about Soarynn.

The heavy footsteps of an approaching Peacekeeper alerted him and he raised his head, watching the man slow down until he stood in front of the cell Coriolanus was in.

“Snow?” He asks, looking around.

Coriolanus nods, “That’s me.”

The Peacekeeper grunts, “Your bails been posted. Four thousand.” Several people let out low whistles. Four thousand was damn near outrageous considering he’d been clean when they questioned him. Sure the gun looked bad, but he wasn’t guilty.

At least not this time.

He sucks the air between his teeth and nods, hanging his head back down. His friends will come to get him soon, he knows that much.

“Oh and we checked the hospital, your girls not in there.” That piece of information makes his heart race and his eyes slightly widen. She’s okay, Soarynn must have gotten out, holed up with one of her friends or even gone back to the apartment.

Coriolanus feels a weight lifted off his chest but he doesn’t let it show. He just nods and keeps his head down, waiting to get out.

It feels like hours go by until he hears his name being called again, “Snow! Looks like you’re gettin’ out of here.”

It’s about time, he thinks as he stands up, wiping his hands on his pants.

Coriolanus makes his way to the barred door, waiting for someone to come let him out. That’s when someone behind him speaks up, “That pretty blonde girl is your girl?” Coriolanus turns to see some brunette around his height looking at him, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall. Coriolanus feels like he’s seen him before, heard of him before and the same probably goes for him. He’s a well-known face, name, idea.

Coriolanus nods, noticing the bruise blooming on the brunette's face. He’s pretty sure he fought back against the Peacekeepers when they all got arrested, which meant he was carrying something, got caught with something. Coriolanus wonders what his bail is. He only got posted first because he was the most reserved out of all of them, the most quiet.

“Yeah, she’s my girl,” he answers, his voice gravely. He hasn’t had anything to drink since the party, anything to eat or any sleep. He’s so ready to get the hell out of here. What’s taking this Peacekeeper so long?

“She looks like a good time, type of girl you wanna bend over whenever and wherever,” the young man says, smirking as he looks Coriolanus up and down.

Coriolanus has to force himself to manually breathe when he hears that, hears someone, some asshole so blatantly disrespecting his girl.

Since the beginning of their relationship, he’s been firm with his friends about how they can talk to Soarynn, talk about Soarynn. She’s his girl, not some object. Soarynn’s been the best part of his life, the only thing he has to live for sometimes.

Soarynn brings out a different side of him, a softer side, a kinder side, more gentle and caring. He hopes she’s okay.

“Don’t talk about my girl like that,” he says, his jaw clenching along with his fist. He's not asking, he's telling.

This guy seems to think it's funny because he laughs, "Don't worry Snow, me and my boys will pay her a visit as soon as we get out."

Coriolanus surveys the cell he's been stuck in and notices several other young men looking him up and down, all with various bruises. It doesn't really matter if he got bailed out anymore, not when he's about to be arrested for murder.

He doesn't get the chance though because that Peacekeeper finally found the keys and is unlocking the door but Coriolanus isn't a man who's easily satisfied, he turns one last time, giving the brunette a deadly glare, "You touch her and I'll fucking kill you."

He has to be physically pulled out of the cell and ignores the whistles and catcalls he gets, all of them taunting him. He's taken to a separate room where he's reunited with all of his belongings.

Dog tags, keys, wallet, lighter, and his jacket.

"Try and stay out of trouble," the Peacekeeper says, eyeing him up and down, "oh, and we'll be searching your apartment once you leave, so it'd be best for you to find some other place to stay until we're done."

Coriolanus can't stop his eyes from widening. Search his apartment? "What do you think you're gonna find in my apartment?" He asks, some edge in his tone. The Peacekeeper gives him an all too cocky smile, "It's just a standard procedure. We picked up all sorts of people at that party and you all seem to fall under the same category one way or another. We've been keeping an eye on you, Mr. Snow."

So they've been watching him. That does nothing to ease his worries, especially since they've probably been waiting for the ball to drop, to finally take him in. And now they're going to search his penthouse from top to bottom. What is he going to tell Soarynn? Where will they live?

When he first met Soarynn she was living in all sorts of places, hopping from couch to couch. She'd been kicked out of her own family's apartment the day she turned eighteen and had been on her own ever since. Couldn't pay rent, didn't have a job, left on her own.

She'd moved in with Coriolanus shortly after they started dating and she'd been there ever since. How could he tell her that their home was being torn apart?

"I've gotta tell my girl, let her get some of her clothes," he tells the Peacekeeper, "she didn't do anything...I...I keep her away from all of this." He knows he might be saying too much, but he can't let Soarynn fall under the blame. They could try to investigate her too, show up at her job. He doesn't need that.

A frown tugs the Peacekeeper's lips and he eyes the dog tags hanging around Coriolanus's neck, "You served Panem as a Peacekeeper?" Coriolanus nods, his fingers grabbing the silver tags, "Did a couple months in Twelve before I got sent back." His commander had called it an "honorable discharge" which was code for Coriolanus was getting caught up trying to play the game in Twelve, selling people all sorts of stuff. Safe to say, he didn't last long as a Peacekeeper. But, it did earn him some more street cred, he even kept his hair shaved down to a buzzcut, foregoing his golden curls.

The man across from him sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, "She can go in and get her stuff but she needs a Peacekeeper escort. Can't have her running around and hiding things."

Coriolanus can't help but smirk at the idea of Soarynn trying to cover his tracks. She doesn't know where he's stashed away anything, and probably never will. It's safer that way if she's in the dark. "Thanks," is all he says, gathering the rest of his belongings, "and thanks for the fun field trip. Best way to spend my weekend."

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus is immediately engulfed in a bear hug from Sejanus who squeezes him so tight, "Coryo I thought you were a goner, we're so glad you're okay."

Coriolanus doesn't really like hugs or any physical intimacy for that matter. Unless it's with Soarynn. But he returns this hug wholeheartedly, his friends came through for him and he can't ignore that. "Where's Soarynn?" Is the first thing he says when he pulls away. His eyes dart to Festus who looks like he rolled right out of bed to come bail him out, "She's back at my place. Didn't want it to get too crowded in here," he says.

The lobby they're currently standing in is a ghost town but Coriolanus knows what Festus means, had they also gotten arrested, Soarynn would be the only one to get all three of them out.

Coriolanus finally lets out a true sigh of relief. Soarynn is okay, she's safe and soon she'll be in his arms again. Five years ago Coriolanus would have laughed at the thought of him worrying about some girl, but now it's all he does.

They're quick to leave the station once everything's been settled, Coriolanus won't miss that place. "How much do I owe you guys?" He asks, walking down the dark Capitol streets towards Festus's apartment. Festus shares a knowing glance with Sejanus, "One thousand each," he says causally. Coriolanus frowns, that's only half. "Who paid the other half?" Sejanus stops in his tracks and sighs, trading his hand through his dark curls, "Look Coryo, Soarynn paid one half and we paid the other half so we could get you out as soon as possible." Coriolanus grits his teeth, his hands balling up again, "And you let her?" He hisses, so fucking angry that his own girl had to have a hand in bailing him out.

Festus raises both hands in surrender but his demeanor is anything but laid back, "Look, if you wanna go back in there, be my guest. You know business has been slow and we didn't have enough to make four thousand, not without making some calls and cutting some deals. Soarynn gave me two thousand and said she'd start working the corner if she had to. All she wants is for you to come home so can you do that? If not for me then for her."

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose, "We can't even go home now. They're searching the apartment." Both Sejanus and Festus swear under their breath. They both know what it's like to have your place ransacked by Peacekeepers. It was only a matter of time until the same thing happened to Coriolanus.

Festus grips his shoulder, giving him a slight playful jostle, "You two can hole up with me then. I've got the pullout couch and as long as you two don't fuck on it, we should be good." Coriolanus can't help but smile, especially because he knows the things Festus has done on that couch. They should burn it if anything. "Okay, okay thank you Festus. We'll be out of your hair in no time."

Festus smirks, "Sure Snow."

꧁ ꧂

When they finally get to the apartment the sun is just beginning to rise. Coriolanus is exhausted. He's also hungry and desperately needs a shower but above all else, he needs Soarynn.

She's not in the living room when they walk in and Festus nods towards his bedroom, "She's in there."

Coriolanus strides over to the closed door and quietly opens it, feeling his entire body relax when he sees Soarynn curled up on the foot of the bed. The door slightly creaks when he closes it and her eyes fly open, zeroing in on him. Soarynn's up in seconds, throwing herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

Coriolanus wraps his arms around her small frame, burying his nose in her soft blonde hair, smelling vanilla. "I'm so sorry Soarynn," he whispers, rocking them back and forth, "I'm so fucking sorry."

He's not one for tears but he's nearly moved to them when he sees Soarynn's eyes already bloodshot, her body clinging onto his like a lifeline. “Thought I might never see you again,” she whispers, her voice shaky. His heart breaks all over again seeing his sweet girl so shaken up. Normally she’s cool and collected, not letting his lifestyle affect her. But every once in a while it becomes too much, gets to her and she breaks down. It’s moments like these that make Coriolanus want to start working an office job and leave this all behind.

But he can’t. She knows that. Knows what she’s getting into by dating him.

He presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling her even tighter against his body, “I’m here baby, I’m right here.” He knows why she was so scared. He’s all she has. Both her parents died during the war, of swine flu. It’s a sick type of funny because now it can be easily cured by a vaccine. You can’t even catch it if you’ve already had it once. But it left Soarynn all alone. Then she met him.

She was also his everything. No living family, barely any friends. She put up with his shitty lifestyle without complaint.

"Did they...did they hurt you?" She asks, pulling away to inspect him which brings a small smile to his lips at her doting nature. Coriolanus shakes his head, "No, but I didn't do much resisting. You should've seen some of the other guys." His mind drifts back to the one brunette who so blatantly threatened the girl he loves. He doesn't even realize how tight he's squeezing her until she rests a hand on his face, her hand so soft and warm against his cold skin, "Coryo? Are you okay?"

Coriolanus shakes himself from his thoughts, he can worry about that asshole later. Right now he needs to focus on his girl. He nods, leaning down to press a kiss to her nose, something that always makes her giggle and it does even now despite how horrible the past twenty-four hours have been for both of them.

"Just tired," he says, which isn't a lie, he's fucking exhausted and that bed looks so tempting, even if Festus has fucked every girl in the Capitol on it. He's willing to make sacrifices today.

They both curl up, Soarynn's back pressed to his chest while he wraps his arms around her, content to never let her go again. Sometimes he wonders how much easier their lives would be if they never met each other. Dealing drugs is as complicated as it gets and he knows one day it'll get past being complicated. It'll get personal.

He doubts Soarynn slept much without him, she never does. But he can feel her body slowly drifting off and he presses a kiss under her ear, "I love you," he whispers. He knows he should say it more, show it more. But it's hard. Hard when you're supposed to be a big and bad drug dealer who doesn't show emotion.

He'll have to change that though. She's all he has, and he's all she has. No parents, no relatives, just them.

Nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[drolly-rolly]

Ghost Soap: Berlin, a club, a dark room

(CW: age gap, unrequited SoapGaz, kink/BDSM, experience gap, eventual Ghoap is 100% consensual BUT definitely could be considered rushed/too fast by the fault of either/both of these dumb, horny men) Gaz and Soap are traveling during a uni holiday break, bumping through the continent before they have to go back and properly crack down: Kyle’s has a real shot at the Olympic team and Soap’s crammed his upcoming term with more courses than anyone should in an effort to save the dwindling funds from his scholarship. The only reason Soap’s along at all is Kyle’s charity and he tries not to think too much about how much, and exactly why, he’s going to miss him. They’re in Berlin when they meet up with this goth chick that Soap is desperately trying to impress. She goes along with it and invites them both to the club: It's overwhelming in the way that they are for first timers, which both of them absolutely are. Soap definitely lied about how experienced he was (or deliberately left out how green he is) to impress this girl so naturally the situation once they’re inside goes all tits up in the wrong way. The girl ends up making out with Gaz in the hallway instead of Soap and he can’t blame her, look at the guy. Or maybe she was hoping she’d get both of them, way she’s looking at him, but that’s definitely too close to those things Soap doesn’t want to think concerning Gaz so he wishes them well, despite the hollow gnawing in his chest and wanders.

He ends up talking to a woman who’s a little older, beautiful and attractive but she laughs and just pats him on the head when he thinks that CBT means Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, he took Intro Psych his first year, and suggests he find someone more his speed to play with. 

“Play? I’m not a kid.” He says. He’s been with older women and they’ve liked him and there’s definitely something about this one that he likes.

“Not that kind of play.” She just smiles at him with perfectly painted lips. Then asks him if she can help him find his friends, but he’s a stubborn little idiot with bruised pride so of course he tells her it's fine.

After that he just wants a place to curl up and be the fuck alone and have his sad, confused boy- man, adult man, feelings. But he’s sort of lost and doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go and definitely doesn’t speak enough German to really properly navigate this place that is so much bigger than it looked from the outside.. Naturally ends up where he shouldn’t be.

Enter Ghost, full gear. Mask, of course. Not currently with anyone per se but assisting another pair. Hears Soap before he sees him. Rolls his eyes, figures he should probably get this stupid kid out of here. Soap’s not expecting the massive man in the skull mask and the whole… outfit… to speak english. Isn’t expecting his knees to turn into pudding when he hears the voice. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here, sweetheart.” He stalks forward and Soap can’t look away. “Why not?” Soap says. It's stupid. But right now he’d do anything to keep those dark, almost black eyes on him. Keep him saying ‘sweetheart’ instead of ‘kid’. “Door wasn’t locked.”

“I think you know why.”  Ghost says. “If I don’t…Would you teach me?””

And the way he bats his eyelashes has to be intentional, has to know what he’s doing. Testing Ghost’s self control. “You definitely don’t know what you’re asking for.”

(Part 1, already working on Part 2!) Special kudos to @leathfaic for our silly chit chats that lead to this.

[snkts]

Logan had given up thinking that he had seen it all. Eventually, he’d just stopped getting surprised. He wasn't sure when it happened, but surmised it had to be somewhere between the aliens, the zombies, the demons, and the gods. 

And now he was in Hell. You know what? Sure, why not. This might as well happen. Really, he figured he would’ve wound up here eventually - but that involved figuring out how to die first. Looks like the universe got tired of waiting. 

Because Logan is still alive. 

He knows he is. He can still hear his pulse in his ears, feel the blood rushing through his veins. He’s not dead. Hell, he can’t die - he should know, he’d tried. He even thought he’d gotten real creative, and it had never stuck. So what the hell was the deal now? Why was he here? And more importantly, how was he going to get out? It wasn’t like there was an exit door. … Or any door. Or any building whatsoever. Just endless brimstone. Endless rock. Endless fire. Endless screaming. 

And wailing. 

And crying.

And… And holy shit, Hell was noisy. Add it with the woosh of smoke and fire an the cackling of demons- Fuck the demons. No, seriously - fuck the demons. Annoying little buggars… It felt like every time he turned around, there was another one of ‘em cackling to lunging or God only knew what. He’d cut down all of them. His hands and arms dripped with whatever they had in place of blood; a foul-smelling liquid that seeped into his shirt. He knew it was a dumb statement, but this place fucking sucked. He had to get out of here. 

So he kept moving. Across scorched wastelands and twisted forests. Over sulphuric rivers and out of view of swooping giant bats. He could fight, sure, and he did when it came up - but it wasn’t helping much. Just left him spattered and filthy and pissed. He didn’t need help with that last part. Aside from Hell being a fucking mess, he had people on the other side waiting for him. His friends, his teammates, his children. They needed him. 

He needed them. So, if this dump didn’t have a door… He was gonna cut one himself. 

That’s why he was halfway up this god-forsaken (literally!) mountain, grumbling and cussing to himself all the while. 

“Stupid, fuckin’, god damn, mother fuckin’, blasted, stinkin’, son-of-a-!” His claws flashed as he carved another hand-hold and he snarled. He could see a cliff, just a few more feet above him, where he could stop and rest. Logan sighed and resumed climbing. “This would be so much easier without all this- Flamin’ metal weighin’ me down…” Finally, finally, he hauled himself onto the ledge. He leaned against the nearest wall and caught his breath in shallow inhales. Then in through the nose, out through the mouth, one, two, three, you’re fine. He straightened his posture and looked over the ledge, the way he’d come, then outward to the Hellish horizon. This was just as good of a vantage point as he’d imagined; the problem was there was nothing to see. 

“Of course not.” He mumbled. He scratched at his jaw and frowned. He could at least get the lay of the land and hopefully not get ambushed up here - and hey, was that a cave? Perfect, some shelter sounded like just what he-

…

Scratch that. 

It sounded occupied. No pulse, no breathing, but the movements are small and light. Logan’s brow furrows and he pops his claws, scenting the air. Hard to make out over all the brimstone, but he smells- Mud, lead, copper - a lot of copper, that’s definitely something with a nasty wound - river water, linen, black powder…

“What the hell…?” As he approached, his confusion only grew. Is that- a child-? 

“Hey kid, you okay?”

Well, he sure hadn’t been expecting that.

@talessculpted

[britcision]

After Bruce leaves the first time, Danny corners Jason to ask what the fuck that’s about, Danny never really bothered to ask Jason much about his family but Jason gave him the impression they didn’t want him around

Clearly this is not the whole picture

Jason waves it off, tells Danny Bruce was probably just investigating him and it doesn’t matter, he won’t come back

Danny is sus but doesn’t push

The next day Dick comes to ask for the exact same person

Danny stares DAGGERS at Jason and tells his assistant to go on a grocery run for the least convenient snacks he can think of while he handles this customer

They forgot to really talk about what Jason would want to tell his family and Dick seems aloof and dismissive right up until Danny looks him dead in the eye and says “he says you weren’t there for him before he died, what has changed now” because if he’s being investigated by bats he’s hitting the hurting places

Dick shuts right tf up because fake mediums do NOT say shit like that, that doesn’t reassure anyone and people who are pissed at you are less likely to pay

And also yeah there’s a mountain of guilt there

Danny gentles his voice then and tells Dick that it wasn’t his fault (he’s guessing), that Jason has forgiven him (it’s the vibe he gets from the way Jason is when talking about Dick), and that he’s in a better place now (true in every sense except the strictly literal since Danny just sent him to The Worst Grocery Store)

Dick is very very quiet until it’s time to go and then quietly asks Danny if he can come back later

Danny does not check his schedule but says in a week because He Has A Halfa To Chase Down And Talk To

Jason comes back, Danny tells him what happened and asks wtf, but also what the fuck should Danny say when Dick comes back? If Bruce comes back again, because now he’s noticed it’s possible

Jason has The World’s Heaviest Eyeroll at the idea that either of them care about him, says just to let Bruce think he’s a scam but not a criminal and he’ll get bored eventually

Dick… Dick was probably just following up on Bruce’s lead

Dick doesn’t actually care Jason died

He can’t

But when pushed he helps Danny come up with some suitably cheesy “messages from beyond” for both of them that do include things he’d like to say, because they don’t have to know he’s getting closure for him to get it

Danny lets Jason hide in the closet or whatever for Dick’s next appointment though, and then it’s harder

Because Dick comes back with organised thoughts and renewed caution of this being a scam, and asks Danny directly if there’s a way he can prove he’s really spoken to Jason

There’s something under his skin, purpose and a mess of feelings that Danny’s pretty familiar with by now, but also tells him this isn’t an investigation

Dick isn’t looking to prove he’s secretly a criminal, or a fraud, or whatever Jason thought

Dick is desperate for the chance to talk to Jason just one time, and breaking his heart hoping this could be his only way

Danny stares him in the eye, takes a chance, and calls him Nightwing. Tells him his Little Wing would recognise him no matter how much he’s changed

Dick very nearly literally flips

Jason plots vengeance in the closet

But Dick gets himself back together and tells Danny he has a message he’d like to say to Jason himself

Danny tells him with complete literal honesty that Jason is here and can hear him

Dick is out of disbelief. If there’s even a maybe that Jason’s really here, Danny clearly already knows enough that this wouldn’t make things worse to say what he wants to

He apologises

For being off world when Jason needed him, and for not being closer to him before.

For taking it out on Jason that Bruce took the name his mother gave him, the identity he built to avenge his parents, and handed it to a new kid.

For not being the big brother he wanted to be, and for not being able to stop Tim from taking the cowl, but Dick’s trying to be better now

To keep Tim safe, keeping an eye on him and being a better brother, the brother he wished he could be for Jason

Dick cries a little

Jason cries a lot

Danny wraps things up as gently as possible because he’s not fucking making up an answer from Jason to that, tells him the truth about what he can feel from the closet

(Jason never expected to hear those things, he’s very emotional, but Danny knows he heard it and if Dick wants to try in another week he might have more to say)

They schedule another appointment

Danny spends four hours after Dick leaves just holding Jason, putting him back together, and then they need to fucking talk some more because That Just Happened

They need to decide what to do with Dick

And then Bruce comes in a few days later

Bruce is Not willing to believe

Bruce is angry, defensive, sceptical, and pretty sure Danny is a supervillain who is deliberately hurting Dick

Danny is perfectly happy to do his best fake mystic scam on Bruce, amping the drama and getting “caught” knocking the table with his knee rather than his usual actual telekinesis

Jason’s not there for Bruce’s appointment, he’s not ready to be blindsided again and when Danny tells him afterwards he’s just angry and frustrated

He doesn’t need to see that or sit in

And this goes on for a little while, a month or so, and Dick’s appointments come closer together and Bruce insists on doing the same

For Bruce, Danny is a flowery fake

For Dick, Danny is getting a little sick of playing telephone

Jason doesn’t dare to be in the room invisible and whisper to Danny, Dick would fucking notice, and Jason now knows he can’t predict what Dick will come out with well enough to have replies in advance

The best they’ve got is Danny sharing Jason’s feelings and Jason working out how he feels in between appointments, what he wants Danny to say and take some guesses about what happens next

Dick tells them both a lot about Bludhaven and Tim, about how he killed the Joker when he got back to Earth and how Bruce is still more fucked up than he wants to admit

Jason has Danny tell Dick a little more about how he died when he asks, and gives nonspecific stories from their actual lives and travels (with the full implication that Jason’s doing this in the Ghost Zone)

(And I mean Danny did take him to visit Ghost Writer so that’s an easy true story)

Dick is so happy to think his little brother is doing well, experiencing all the things he didn’t get to in life and that he might not have moved all the way on, but he’s happy now

Danny isn’t gonna ask Jason to reveal himself, Jason can do it when he’s comfortable, buuuuuuut the more it turns into Family Dinner for Dick’s appointments the more he’s feeling the “do I even need to be here”

Dick and Bruce are fucking FEUDING in the background over this because Dick insists he stop treating Danny like a criminal and Bruce is CERTAIN that Dick is being brainwashed

Tim thinks they’re both dumb but he’s learned everything about Danny, tracked their path back to the last time they were in Gotham, and he has Suspicions

Because Danny didn’t have an assistant until he came to Gotham

And his assistant is always wearing something over his face

Tim comes with Bruce to an appointment and asks if he can wait outside with Jason while Danny and Bruce do the thing

Jason, who was gonna leave again, has no excuse

Tim Stares at him for 15 minutes and then when there are no witnesses?

“Hello Jason.”

Because yeah, Dick and Bruce know Jason’s face, they know how he fights and moves, if he hadn’t grown 2’ and put on a million pounds of muscle they’d probably both have recognised him easily

But Jason was Tim’s Robin

Tim’s an obsessive little shit

Jason thinks his body is different enough now, that he’s different enough, but Tim looks at the way he reclines behind his desk, the way he shifts just the littlest bit, and sees Robin

And in the way Jason flails as he falls out of his chair

Tim asks why he hasn’t told anyone and Jason has to admit… they weren’t even planning to stay in Gotham this long

They were gonna leave two weeks ago, he didn’t expect to see any of them

And he doesn’t know if he can ever let them know

Tim nods solemnly and promises not to tell, if Jason doesn’t want to be a hero anymore that’s his choice and Jason tells Tim that he’s a damn good Robin

And also to be fucking careful, and call Jason if he ever needs him, and talk to Dick and Alfred, and is about 30 seconds from being the worst mother hen Tim has ever met until Bruce storms out

Tim hurries after him, Jason tells Danny he’s been busted, Danny asks if they should skip town but Jason has this feeling Tim can hunt them down anywhere on Earth

(He’s right)

The Medium and his assistant

Amity Park was a roller coaster, but after eliminating the GIW, talking to the Fentons, and getting some sort of alliance with the ghosts, Danny felt like he didn't have much else to do. He took Ellie's advice to travel a bit, but tried to make it a little more exciting.

Although the money he had been given could last forever (and longer with Vlad's card in his pocket), he wanted to earn his own money. So he made his trip a fun job, turning part of his vehicle into a trailer. Thus was born his career as a medium and fortune teller, traveling around the world, listening to the dead, advising people, etc.

Technically, thanks to Clockwork Danny could see the future, but he doesn't need it, or at least not always. And talking to the dead was practically his day-to-day, so he thought he had chosen well.

During one of his trips, when he passed through Gotham he found a zombie (which turned out to be a halfa!), the poor thing was lost, and wandering, so he helped him and did the most sensible thing possible: he offered him a job. Jason, who hadn't been back for a long time and his memories were scrambled, decided that he needed a vacation anyway, for his own sanity (not seeing the Joker's face was a bonus) and accepted the offer. Of course, he covered his face in case someone recognized him as the son of a millionaire, Danny approved.

Both traveled around the world, offering their services and bothering a certain Constantine who complained every time they had the same client (Danny replied that it really wasn't his fault, but the British man was still upset). A year later they returned to Gotham.

The Batfam assumed that Danny's business was a scam. But Bruce was desperate, he wanted to talk with Jason, to hear about him, even if it was a scam, so he visited them. When Danny asked who he wanted to contact, Bruce replied "Jason Todd."

Danny, who knew full well the identity of his employee, raised an eyebrow and glanced surreptitiously at his assistant, who was avoiding his gaze. He sighed before continuing his 'work', glancing at Jay from time to time.

A few days later, Dick Grayson showed up with the same request, and Danny made sure to kick Jason as soon as he left.

[cloudyyoimiya]

HEAR ME OUT.. SCENARIO ABOUT DAZAI WITH A GN S/O LIKE AUBREY FROM OMORI??

oh my word i love this! i didn’t get too far into omori myself so i had my friend help me out on this! also i couldn’t get all of my thoughts out with just a scenario, so i hope you don’t mind a few headcanons! thank you for your request!

With a S/o Like Aubrey from Omori; Osamu Dazai

Format: Headcanons and Scenario

Possible Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, suicide mentions (Dazai), spoilers for Omori(?)

To start off, Dazai would absolutely love the energy you give off; especially if you’re more on the cheerful side! He loves how energetic you can get over something that peaks your interest!

Sometimes if you freak out over small things, he’ll find it funny. If you ever catch him laughing about this you’ll either calm down immediately or get a little angry. There’s no in between.

If you ever do get angry and lash out, Dazai would be there to try and calm you down. He’d put a hand on your shoulder, or if you’re comfortable with it, he’d hug you and attempt to tell you that everything is all right.

The same thing happens if something goes wrong and you try to distance yourself from your friends or him. He’d be there to comfort you in a heartbeat and he’d make sure that you don’t make any rash decisions. Dazai would also make sure that you aren’t too hard on yourself as well.

If you happen to be clumsy like Aubrey, Dazai will always be there to catch you when you fall. Though, he will find it amusing that you can trip over seemingly nothing. Sometimes he’d catch you and you’d see him smirking.

Sometimes if Dazai gets distracted from a case, you’d have to redirect him. It’s not a simple task, but it’s able to be done.

Here’s some food for thought; imagine if you were in the Port Mafia. You were an executive and you ran a small squad much like the Hooligans that Aubrey leads. Of course your small squad would be more… professional, but still. I’d like to think that this kind of thing drew Dazai in the first place.

Now, I won’t write the mafia scenario today, but maybe I will later if I’m asked to. <3

Scenario…

Today you and your boyfriend were out running errands for the agency. Originally Dazai was asked to do this alone, but knowing him he wouldn’t do it unless you came along. You were slightly mad at him because you already had a lot of work to do. You had to write a few reports, you had to print out some documents… All boring things.

Dazai hooked his arm around yours as he lead you towards the next shop you had to visit. You sighed at the contact. Despite how much you liked going outside to explore, running errands with Dazai was always a bore. He’d always get side tracked and you’d have to redirect him.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said as you two arrived at the store. “Do you wanna wait outside?”

“I could never leave you alone, my love!” Dazai exclaimed, acting as if he was offended by your question. “Plus, if I did you’d somehow run into trouble!”

Your eye slightly twitched at the thought. “Yeah, alright fine. C’mon.”

You practically dragged Dazai into the store. You then walked down the aisles, looking for a specific sweet that Ranpo wanted. Apparently this candy was getting rare since the company was going out of business.

You eventually grabbed everything that you needed to. Dazai had been talking your ear off about anything and everything, trying to make you engage in a conversation while you were concentrating. You did give him short and sweet answers, yes, but you also wanted to bash his head with the baseball bat that you always carried around with you.

“—And then Kunikida was all like, ‘Oh no Dazai! You can’t try to kill yourself on the job!’ with such a mad expression! He then hit me with his book of ideals on top of my beautiful head! I just can’t believe him!” Dazai ranted on. “I truly think that he hates me!”

You had arrived at the cash register, groceries in hand. “No, really? What makes you say that?”

You started to pay for the groceries, giving the cashier your credit card. The transaction went through and the two of you left the store quickly.

“Kunikida is always foiling my suicide attempts! It’s really starting to get on my nerves!”

You silently chuckled at his antics. “Maybe he just cares for you, Osamu.”

Dazai sighed. “If he cared he’d let me—“

You playfully smacked the back of his head.

“We need to head back soon.”

“Ow! That hurt!” Dazai whined.

The walk back contained Dazai blabbering on and on about rather mundane topics. You of course blabbered back once he reached a topic you liked. 

You walked up the stairs to the agency, almost tripping on a few of the steps. Dazai caught you one time at the top of the stairway. Embarrassed, you slightly yelled at him. He only smiled and led you back to your desk.

“You really need to work on your balance, you know. I won’t be able to catch you each time.”

“Oh would you shut up?!”

Requests are open!

[aceofshitposts]

HERE WE ARE AT PART FOUR. this is twice as long as the other ones so uh sorry about that. or you’re welcome. one more part after this ;)

one two three

-

“So, I’m going to assume you’re not a civilian,” Jason says as he leads Tim down into the underground parking. 

“I work with Bruce,” Tim hums. Jason hasn’t made any move to attack him, sure, but Tim isn’t sure how much he wants Jason to know. He never attacked his Tim, their relationship is so wildly different from Tim’s and his Jason… It feels almost cruel to consider telling him about it.

Surprisingly, Jason laughs, "that's a non-answer if I ever heard one, you’re definitely a Bat.” He grins at Tim, bright and cheeky just like the boy Tim used to watch for behind a camera lens.

It makes something ache deep inside Tim’s heart. He wishes the Jason back home could smile openly at him like that.

Jason leads him to a beat up looking grey Jeep, one that has several equally worn out looking stickers of various superhero logos stuck in the bottom right corner of the back window. Tim can’t help but feel thankful he brought a car and not a motorcycle, he’s not sure he would’ve survived a motorcycle ride clinging to Jason’s back.

“You said you didn’t expect this to happen to me? Well, Other Tim,” he says once he’s settled into the passenger side, taking note of the violently purple bat shaped air freshener hanging from the mirror. A gift from this universe’s Stephanie, no doubt.

Jason’s eyes flick towards him, just briefly, before focusing back on the midday Gotham traffic ahead of them. His hands tense around the steering wheel, just a little.

“No,” he says slowly, dragging out the word, “because so far it’s only happened to those of us in the business. Thought it was over, honestly, it’s been a few weeks since Steph and she was the only one it hadn’t happened to at that point.

“Every one of our visitors have been from different universes. We tracked it down to a magic user that Duke tangled with a few months back, Zatanna helped set us up with some magic doohickey to help get them home,” Jason says with a shrug. Tim watches the way the tendons in his wrist flex as he turns the steering wheel.

“What about you guys? Did you do a whole body swap?” Tim suddenly worries for Other Tim, potentially waking up in Tim’s nest surrounded by weapons and notes on his latest case. He wouldn’t know he needs to go to WE at eleven for a lunch meeting and when he didn’t show up, Tam would call him. And then call someone in the family if he didn’t answer and, hoo boy, that would be a whole ass mess to deal with.

“Thankfully, doesn’t seem like it,” Jason sighs, his grip easing off the wheel. “It’s just like being asleep the whole time, we just wake up after sending them home.”

Tim considers that. He’s relieved that Other Tim won’t have to contend with his schedule and… God, what if he’d gotten the bright idea to contact his supposed boyfriend? That would have gone over like a lead balloon. But then there’s this Jason, the way he sighed in relief when he said thankfully.

“You don’t want him to know, do you?” Tim tilts his head, catching Jason’s eyes when he glances over and raises an eyebrow. It’s interesting to watch, the way he tenses again in defence then deflates entirely under the weight of Tim’s scrutiny. Other Tim probably has a knack for getting his way.

“Steph thinks I should tell him,” he says eventually, stilted like he has to force the words from his throat. “It’s too dangerous. He’ll want to help. I can’t do that to him.”

That was the problem with dating civilians, wasn’t it? If you didn’t tell them it was a balancing act of trying to appear normal while also still living up to your vigilante expectations. People would always need saving. There were always cancelled dates, unexplained absences. The danger of a villain finding out and using them against you.

It was one of the reasons Tim’s romance with Bernard had crashed and burned, despite some of Tim’s best efforts.

“I guess you don’t have to worry about that.”

Huh?

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, uh, I just assumed,” Jason says haltingly, eyes steadfast on the road and oh. He thought…

“No, my Jason doesn’t like me much,” Tim says before he can think better of it.

“I can’t imagine that.” Jason sounds so… So earnest when he says it. Like it’s some universal fact that he will always like Tim. 

Tim doesn’t really want to get into the gritty details of his relationship with his Jason, or maybe rather his relationship with various sharp objects being held by Jason. Nowadays Tim was lucky to get a nod of acknowledgement the few times Jason had been forced to work a case with the rest of them. Tim had walked into the cave once when Jason and Dick were having a conversation and Jason had, quite obviously, made a hasty exit when it became obvious Tim wasn’t just passing through.

“It is what it is.” Tim shrugs. The idea that he and Jason could get along was nice, there was no denying that there was some part of Tim still held on to the hero worship of an eleven year old even after all these years. Tim also couldn’t deny that Jason grew up handsome, even when he was scowling at Tim. If it was a private fantasy of Tim’s that Jason and him could be friends, that was his business.

“If you say so. You’re being pretty cagey about it so I’ve gotta assume something happened between you two.” That was an understatement. “And I know we aren’t known for being the most upfront bunch, but maybe talk to him? You might be surprised.”

Tim scowls out the window, deciding to blame Other Tim for Jason’s ability to read him like a book. He stares out the window the rest of the trip up to the Manor, unwilling to divulge any more of his secrets to this perceptive and kind Jason.

“Hey, everyone, I brought Tim but don’t get too excited because it’s not our Tim,” Jason announces the moment he opens the front doors.

Despite Jason’s request to not get too excited, Stephanie is more than happy to ask Tim a hundred and one questions about his universe and tell him anything that comes to mind about this one. He learns a little more about them, she and Tim met in college. Stephanie introduced Jason to Tim about a year and a half ago and they had been history ever since.

“You should have seen him, he was so flustered he knocked his entire drink into Tim’s lap!” Stephanie howls, and judging from Jason’s red face, this is one of her favourite stories to tell.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Jason says with about as much authority as someone who looks like a tomato can muster.

“Yeah, yeah, you just don’t want to hear about how badass he is because you wanna keep our Tim in a bubble,” Steph whines, sticking her tongue out at Jason. Tim didn’t think it was possible, but Jason gets even redder.

“I’m not going to apologise for wanting to keep him safe.”

“You know, he doesn’t have to be in the field,” Tim says thoughtfully. “Steph, you said he took computer science, right? I’m a pretty accomplished hacker” – Tim makes sure to look Jason right in the eye – “you might be surprised.”

Jason huffs, stomping away to check on Bruce’s progress. Stephanie snickers, bumping their shoulders together. It seems they’re a team no matter the universe.

Sending him home is a rather anti-climatic process in the end. He’s staring at everyone gathered in the cave one moment, eyes lingering on the small smile and wave Jason is giving him and then –

Tim wakes up and doesn’t know where he is.

He blinks up at a high, high ceiling, then sits up to observe what looks like a medical bay that someone copy and pasted into a fucking cave.

He turns his head to the right and oh, thank god, Jason is here with him.

“Hey, Shutterbug, I’ve got something to tell you.”

[twstedstoryshop]

Decided to group these together! Hope you two don’t mind! -Shopkeep

WARNING! The following contains unhealthy character behavior and horror themes. If this disturbs you, please DO NOT READ.

General Yandere Headcanons with Vil and Ace

(Cont. Headcanons from this)

Don’t let this man hear about your favorite live action shows, movies, or even musicals. The moment he does, he is figuring out a way to snag himself the role of one of your favorite characters. Can’t have you fawning over another actor when he’s right here!

Absolutely has Rook take photos of you in your daily life. Every moment is precious and keeps them all organized to a scary degree. Can actually point out specific clothing items you were wearing that day and the brands. It helps in his research for picking out outfits for you.

Of course, his most favorite pictures go to his shrine/vanity. I bet he talks to your pictures while he does his daily routine. Carries a whole conversation by himself, imagining you were having banter as a couple.

Rather specific thought but I feel like he’d be into the idea of having lockets with a lock of hair between you and him. It’s his most prized possession. Always wears it on him. Always. Would get very hostile over the thought of someone trying to touch it. Or worse, steal it.

Anytime you wear an outfit that he personally organized, he’d be so in love. Fawns over you like you’re a walking piece of art. Of course, if you’re into it, you’d have matching or complimenting outfits if you two go out. The thought of you and him wearing clothes that fit each other like puzzle pieces has his heart racing.

If you have a favorite scent you always wear, he hunts down that cologne or perfume like he’s on a mission. Having your scent cling to him makes a shudder run along his spine. Plus it’s always nice to hear you mention that he smells nice.

If you ever mention how a certain color of eyeshadow, blush, or lipstick looks on him, he wears it A LOT. Absolutely smiling inwardly like a madman if your eyes keep lingering on his lips.

The classic of a best friend who slowly descends into the madness of love sickness and devotion. Where once were at first, maybe signs of seeing you as a dear friend now are deep fixations. The way you hold his hand, playfully bat at him, or share tender moments as companions, he keeps those memories locked closely to his heart.

Absolutely is the kind of guy to not think of a future without you. As if there is no other outcome besides you and him together forever. Of course you and Ace are gonna go to the same college, be roommates, live together eventually, and lay next to each other 6 ft under. There’s this unnerving casualness to him mentioning how he will follow your lead no matter what.

I feel like he’d be one to adapt at the drop of a dime if something comes up in your day. He does it under the veil of being bored and having nothing to do, but really it’s because he wants to spend a lot of time with you. You going to get groceries? He’s tagging along to help and make dinner! Studying? Cool, let’s make it a dual study session. Working out! Eh, he needed to exercise too!

Will give you your space but there’s a lot of yearning and staring at his phone, waiting if you shoot him a text to hang out. Definitely whines at Riddle if he can sleepover at Ramshackle but of course gets scolded.

Ace is definitely guilty of the words he spoke to you when first meeting you. If you bring it up to tease a bit, Ace gets really disheartened and apologizes in such a suffocating way. He vows to never say those kinds of things ever again. There’s a desperation in his eyes to please not hate him for his stupid words.

Same can’t be said about others though. Prone to jealousy and wanting to monopolize your time. Does anyone have your favor? Has no shame in spitting out cruel and venomous jeers. It’s jarring to see the stark differences between that and his lighthearted teases to you.

Image that stuck with me. A wistful sigh as Crowley reports no findings in any way to get back home yet. Your usual group of friends comfort you and try to cheer you as you trudge out of the office. Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley notices Ace bringing a hand to his mouth. At first, the Headmage thinks it is an expression of worry but is sorely mistaken when he realizes Ace is smiling widely that your efforts are still in vain.

[squishneedsahero]

Motherly Instinct

Awesomest of Them All 2.0 | One-Shots

Part 8.5 of 13

Word Count: 1541

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a bonus part that I’ve just thrown in cause I felt like it and I have other ideas for the series <3

Some shit had been going down with the Justice League, you had no idea what exactly it was but you hadn't seen your husband in at least a week. Needless to say you were tired of not seeing him and your two sons. So, you decided to do something about it. Something you hadn't done before now.

You walk down to the cave, after warning Alfred you were leaving, and find the suit Bruce had gotten made for you in case of an emergency. For you this qualified as an emergency. You put the mask over your eyes and prepare to head up to the watchtower. One way or another you're going to drag your family home for some rest.

Bruce didn't trust every member of the League to know who he was even if he trusted them to protect the world. It was a bit paranoid but you'd deal with it and wear the mask if it meant you could drag him home. You step up to the teleport and announce the number you were assigned then step in and when you step out you're in space.

Not exactly in space but being in the watchtower was close enough. You take a look around, seeing no one you recognize you approach someone in a green suit and ask, "excuse me, do you know where I could find Batman?"

"Of course I do beautiful, I'll show you the way," the man says, obviously he's a flirt. "The names Hal by the way, and I can call you?"

You decide to bs something on the spot, and say, "just call me SH/N." From there you follow alongside him as he leads you to wherever it is Bruce is located.

"So, why are you looking for the grumpy bat? You know he's quite boring, I'm sure the two of us could have much more fun."

He clearly has no idea who you are and you can only hope this walk won't be long. You go ahead and have a little fun with your response anyways, "yeah? What makes you so sure about that?"

"Well, he's Batman, all dark and brooding I've never seen the guy smile. Just don't tell him I told you that," Hal responds.

You can't help but laugh, "of course I'd never tell him that."

Hal opens up a door and waves his arm, letting you in. "Hey Bats, this beauty is looking for you, though why she's here to see you I have no idea."

Bruce had been standing there talking with Clark and Diana about something. He doesn't respond in any way to the sight of you besides a slight nod, but you can tell that Hal's flirting has already hit a nerve. You let the slightest smirk cross your lips and you pat Hal's arm saying, "thank you for the help," before walking across the room to your husband.

First thing you do is kiss his cheek and say, "hello love." You tilt your head and cast a side glance at Hal, seeing the color somewhat drain from his face. You wrap your arms around Bruce's neck.

His arms come to rest around your waist as the door closes behind Hal as he leaves. "What are you doing here dear?"

"I haven't seen you in over a week so I'm here to drag you home." You let go of him long enough to take the mask off since it was already bothering you, "also don't kill Hal I think I scared him enough," you laugh.

Bruce sighs, "I can't come home there's... a situation we need to figure out first."

You roll your eyes, "okay, what is the situation because I'm not going home until you and the boys can come home with me." You can tell that Bruce is just goi g to argue so you turn to Diana and ask, "what's going on?"

Diana quickly explains that a clone of Clark, a teenager, had been found and they were trying to figure out what to do with him. The fact that they were still trying to figure it out told you more than enough and you turn to face Clark.

"So, should I ask why it is you aren't taking him in?"

"He was created by Luther and is most likely a threat," Clark states simply.

"So?" You ask. "He's a kid." Clark doesn't have a good answer to that so you turn back and look at Bruce for a moment. "You go get the boys and tell them it's time to go home?"

Bruce agrees to go find Dick and Tim, taking Diana with him and leaving you there with Clark. "Hey, y/n, with Lois and Jon I can't risk their safety by bringing a  strange clone into my house." The large alien tries to defend himself.

"That's not a good enough reason. It's understandable but not a good reason. You're there and can protect your family if anything goes wrong, this boy is a child who was probably raised in a lab. Abandoning him is the stupidest idea I've heard in a long time," you cross your arms.

Somehow Clark found you scarier than Bruce was. No wonder Bruce didn't argue when you told him to go find your kids. He once again doesn't have a good answer. "So, you don't have a good response so that usually means I am right. You should talk to Lois about this before deciding anything but for now I'm going to have the kid come stay with us."

The two of you stand in an awkward silence as you wait for Bruce to come back since you don't know how to get back to where you'd started. When they finally come you put your arms around your boys and press a kiss to the top of each of their heads, "we have one more thing before we can go."

You look at your husband and the boys look between the two of you. You smile at them, "we're going to have someone staying with us for the foreseeable future." They all understand what you're saying and go get the superboy and you take him home to the mansion with you.

Once you're home you send everyone to bed and you take care of the boy. You introduce yourself to him and ask if he has a name.

"A- name?" He asks with a pause, obviously thinking about it.

"It's alright if you don't have one, we can come up with something for you." You offer him a kind smile. "So, here's the deal, I'm going to take you upstairs and give you a room to stay in rather than leaving you down here because my husband is paranoid. You'll get to see who we are and in return you'll eat some food and get some sleep, alright?"

"Okay," he says with a little hesitation before you lead him upstairs. You take him to the kitchen where the two of you get some food, quickly being caught by the rest of your family.

Bruce gives you a look upon seeing that you'd brought him upstairs, which you return but just say, "hello Love, he's going to be staying with us so I brought him upstairs to get some food. I figured he can stay in a spare bedroom because we have plenty of room."

Bruce nods slightly, "alright." He looks between you, Alfred, Dick and Tim before turning back to the boy, "so, I'm afraid I forgot to ask your name," he says, putting up with you and your mom instinct.

You jump in, saving the kid from another awkward answer and say, "we were just thinking about a name he'd like. Maybe all of you could help us come up with some ideas."

Alfred makes sure everyone is fed and you try to make sure the kid feels welcomed. He's a little awkward and doesn't talk much but he's polite, eventually you fin a name he likes, Kon-El, and then if needed he could go by Conner. You make sure that he gets to bed before going to face your husband.

You sit on the bed next to him, and face him, "okay, go ahead, let me hear it for letting him in our house."

He sighs and shakes his head slightly, "it was reckless to just let him in and see who we are." He puts his arms around you and pulls you to him, "I love you, and can't exactly be mad at you for making the call on this one when I've done it the other times." He presses a kiss to your temple, "I trust you and your instincts, so it will be fine no matter what happens."

You lean into his chest and smile softly, "thank you, I love you." You tilt your head to press a kiss to his jaw, "he needs someone to take care of him, I don't care where he came from but I'm going to make sure he has a home."

Bruce presses another kiss to your head and pulls you onto the bed with him, tucking the both of you into the covers and holding you tightly to him as he finally gets some reset.

[langdonsmel]

if we're sinners (it feels like heaven to me)

1.2k | tw: implied/referenced homophobia; panic attacks; religious themes

so...we got that shot of eddie in the promo...and this happened.

also available on ao3

Eddie thinks he’s always been a sinner.

As a child, when he did something ‘bad’ (and bad was a very vague term in the Diaz household), his father would bundle him into the car and drive him to their nearest church. He’d be made to kneel down in the cold pews, the harsh material of the wood digging into his knees as his father made him pray to a God he’s never believed in for forgiveness that he didn’t think he needed. He was made to kneel beside his bed every night, asking God to watch over him while he slept, and his mind would drift to literally anywhere else.

So, as he’s sitting on his bedroom floor, room destroyed around him as he shatters and breaks into a million pieces, he can’t help but wonder if this is divine retribution catching up with him.

The worst part about it? He can’t even say he’s been blindsided by this. Months of ignoring the feelings clawing from the inside of his chest, of aborted screams stuck in his throat choking him as he shakes awake from yet another nightmare, it’s all led him here. Eddie thinks in some ways, it’s where he’s meant to be. He doesn’t deserve happiness, he’s made for bad decisions and pain and anguish. Frank had tried telling him the world isn’t black and white at his last session, had levelled him with a grounding stare in the way only Frank could. Human beings exist in the grey, Eddie, he’d said, and it’s part of the complexity and beauty of the world we live in. No one single person is simply good or bad. You can be angry and worthy at the same time.

He’d just smiled and nodded, refusing to tell Frank that he wasn’t allowed that - that he’d been told from way too young an age that his soul is tarnished, impure, ugly. He remembers being fourteen years old, being caught kissing Lance Barnes behind the bleachers, and his father screaming at him until he was bright red in the face. He remembers the hours he was made to spend kneeling in the pews at church as the priest reminded him venomously that there was a place for “boys like him”. Eddie’s long since come to terms with the fact that something within him is fundamentally broken, and no matter how hard anyone tries, it can never be fixed.

It all leads him here, to this moment. He’s sobbing and heaving and gasping like he can’t get enough air into his lungs, and he’s clutching the baseball bat between his fingers like a lifeline, too scared of what happens if he lets go. He feels like if he lets go of the bat, he’ll break apart into a million and one pieces. And he’s conscious of Chris being in the house, and he does try to keep the noise down, but he just can’t bring himself to stop crying.

In a distant corner of his mind, he thinks he hears the door opening behind him, but it’s late and dark in the room from where he closed the curtains and his head feels like he’s underwater. A presence, silent and stoic and calming registers near him, and sound begins to filter back to him slowly.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I’m here. I’m just going to sit right here until you’re ready.”

Buck.

Chris had Buck’s number pinned to the notice board in his room for emergencies, and he must’ve heard Eddie and decided to call Buck. The realisation that Buck was there, in his room with him, seeing him at his worst moment caused a fresh cascade of tears. Because this was yet another way that Eddie was failing. He tried so hard to hide how he was feeling from Chris, tried to shelter him from the ugliness that was continuously festering within his father. But he failed to do that, and now Buck was here, and Eddie couldn’t breathe. His fingers tightened reflexively around the bat as he sobbed harder.

“Scared.” He eventually manages to choke out, and Buck sits up a little straighter.

“Of what?” He asks, so calm and so patient. Eddie doesn’t think he deserves it.

“E- Everything. Myself.” He whispers, voice breaking. He doesn’t know how quite to put it into words - how to tell Buck that he’s terrified that the darkness in him will consume everything around him - that it’s got the power to warp reality and corrupt even the most pure of souls like his and Christopher’s. He doesn’t know how to tell Buck that he’s had a one way ticket to Hell booked ever since he came out broken and warped and wrong, and that he doesn’t want to drag anyone down with him.

Buck clears his throat, and Eddie looks him in the eye for the first time, his breath catching at the sincerity he sees there. “I’m not scared of you.”

“What?”

“I’m not scared of you, Eddie. I could never be scared, not when it’s you.” Buck states, like it’s a fact, like the sky is blue or the grass is green. Eddie feels a warmth bubbling in his chest, and it causes tears to start streaming from his eyes once again. His breath shudders as he inhales, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he looks into Buck’s eyes. He’s scared to look into them, scared he’ll be staring into the fiery abyss. But all he sees is warmth and all he feels is comfort and all he can sense is love. Eddie knows Buck loves him - he’s always known. And Eddie knows he loves Buck, and he always will. He’s not brave enough to admit that to himself just yet, so he cries and laments for the future he may never get to have. Buck shuffles closer to him then, a hand landing on the bat just above where Eddie’s are. Their hands aren’t touching but it’s close enough.

“Why don’t we get up off this floor, hm? One step at a time. All we have to do right now is sit on the couch.”

One step at a time. Eddie thinks he can do that.

They manage to move to the couch, and at some point in the journey, the bat gets left behind. Eddie finds himself more than a little unmoored with his hands unoccupied. Buck sees this, and has a steaming cup of hot tea between them within five minutes. Eddie drains the cup rapidly, and feels like he can breathe for the first time in hours. His head flops to the side then as he looks at Buck, and there’s so much he wants to say to him. Things like I’m in love with you, but I don’t want to corrupt you too and I don’t deserve an angel like you in my life and I’d spend an eternity in hell if it meant I got to be close to you for five minutes.

“Thank you.” is what he settles on. Buck looks over at him then, a small smile gracing his face. In a moment of bravery, Eddie reaches over and tangles their pinky fingers together. There’s a lot going on and a lot Eddie needs to work on, and maybe he’ll never be ready. But for right now, this can be enough.

[soulmate-game]

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

[helaintoloki]

Everybody Loves Somebody

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: slight language, themes of insecurity, angst, pining, slow burn (kinda?), eventual fluff, over 5k words in length

notes: it’s finally finished! this took forever but I swear I put my entire soul into making this as perfect as it could be. I’ve never used this format before in my writing and it was challenging but also super fun so hopefully you guys like it :) (also yes the title and the fic somewhat is inspired by the Dean Martin song)

summary: Thrown into a blind date against his will, Bucky does his best to prepare in the days leading up to Saturday night, a feat that proves to be much more difficult than expected thanks to his neighbor across the hall.

Sunday

Three quick raps on the apartment door force Bucky to kick back the covers and sluggishly rise from his spot on the floor. He’s exhausted, but his recognition of the evenly spaced knocks on the wooden frame has him feeling compelled to answer, and so he does. Too tired to notice the television is still droning on in the background, Bucky idly wraps his discarded blanket around his form to shield his vibranium arm before opening the door to greet the old man standing on the other side.

“Rough night, huh?” Yori greets with a knowing smile.

“Something like that,” he replies with a tired, lopsided grin. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I set you up on a date,” the man says casually, as if setting Bucky up on dates without his knowledge and against his will is a common every day occurrence, and it is. “Saturday evening at six.”

“What— A date? Yori—“

“She’s a nice girl, very pretty. I think you’ll like her.”

“Now hang on a minute,” Bucky tries to interject, but Yori is already halfway down the hall before the super soldier can get another word in.

“You’re meeting her at the Italian place down the street!” Yori calls behind him. “She likes sunflowers!”

The old man’s shouts are sure to have woken up the entire fourth floor by now, but Bucky is too busy trying to process the jumble of information that has been thrust upon him so suddenly and so early in the morning to care. The last date Yori had sent him on had ended in disaster; Bucky wasn’t ready to get back out on the field, a stable relationship wasn’t in the cards for him. Surely no one in their right mind would stick around once they found out the truth about the man, and if they did it would only be a matter of time before the constant nightmares and extra baggage that came with dating the ex-Hydra assassin sent them running for the hills. But Yori meant well, Bucky knew that, and he also knew he owed the man more than he could ever give him in return, so if sitting through another painfully uncomfortable date would make him happy, then Bucky would just have to suck it up, put on the nicest shirt he owned, and charm his way through another awkward dinner.

“Sunflowers,” he grumbles to himself, quietly shutting the door before returning to his spot on the cold hardwood floor.

Monday

Monday mornings are gym mornings, early workouts that start at five and end at seven. He promptly returns to the apartment building at seven thirty, eight if he stops for breakfast, then goes to check the mail before heading back to the comfort of his sheltered apartment. He doesn’t receive much other than grocery coupons and an odd letter from the government every now and then, but he’s been told that a routine is good, it’s healthy, so on Monday mornings at seven thirty—or eight— Bucky pulls out his keys and opens his assigned metal box with a sense of indifference.

It’s eight o’clock on this particular morning, and with a half finished cup of coffee in hand the soldier opens the little metal compartment to find nothing other than stray specks of dust and the tiniest of spiderwebs in the top right corner of the box. It’s a familiar sight, but Bucky has learned not to let it bother him by now. Remember James, it has nothing to do with you, his therapist always said. You have to learn not to take things personally.

“It has nothing to do with me,” Bucky murmurs quietly before finally shutting his mailbox with a sigh. Coffee cup discarded in the nearby trash can, Bucky turns to make his trek towards the elevator only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of a beautifully familiar face.

Your name is y/n, you live on the fourth floor, and for someone reason you’re always covered in glitter. You’re on your way out the door, art supplies held clumsily in your grasp just begging to jump free from your hold, and despite the rush you seem to be in you still greet the man with a polite smile.

“Good morning,” you chime, honey coated voice filled with warmth and kindness for the stranger. Bucky simply gives you a halfhearted smile in return, watching you walk out the door and wishing he could just muster up the courage to speak to you.

You won the soldier’s heart the day you knocked on his door to drop off a “welcome to the neighborhood” casserole. It had only been his second day in his new apartment, and while he knew some of the other tenants were weary of the mysterious man with the thousand yard stare who had decided to call the building a home, you never once seemed to bat an eye at Bucky or his closed off nature. He had been a little short with you upon your first meeting, his anxiety coming off as annoyance, but still you wore that same kind smile of yours and assured him that if he ever needed anything you’d be happy to help. You were a kind person with a big heart, and Bucky didn’t want to chance snuffing out one of the few lights left in the world, so he let you be. Admiring you from afar was all he let himself have of you, and that was it.

Though, Bucky would be lying if he said you didn’t come across his mind every once in a while. He wondered what you were like, what music you listened to, how you liked your eggs in the morning, if you were an old soul or young at heart, if you’d ever let yourself fall into in the arms of a broken man and help pick up the pieces. It was a pipe dream, but sometimes a friendly smile from you in the morning was enough to get Bucky through an entire day. He hadn’t been with anyone in years, and while he didn’t think he was ready to get back out on the dating scene just yet he knew that if you asked him to he’d take the plunge in a heartbeat. You were an angel, and Bucky would never be able to bring himself to taint you with his touch.

Monday mornings are workout mornings, but they’re also mornings with you.

Tuesday

On Tuesday afternoons Bucky often finds himself in the company of Yori, ensuring the old man stays out of trouble and going out of his way to make sure his newest friend has a nice day out on the town. It isn’t much, and it never will be, but it’s enough for now, at least until Bucky can find the courage to tell the father just what exactly happened to his son on that fateful night. But until then, sushi for lunch will have to do.

He makes his usual trek to the man’s apartment, stomach already beginning to rumble at the prospect of a nice crunch roll, but Bucky’s hunger is soon replaced with nerves at the sight of the woman standing in Yori’s doorway.

You look pretty today, hair haphazardly styled in your rush out the door this morning, colorful stains of dry paint adoring your hands that clutch a bundle of books close to your chest, and a dangly pair of earrings that glint underneath the sunlight pouring through the hallway windows. There’s a smile on your face as you nod along to something Yori says that doesn’t quite register in the soldier’s jumbled thoughts, and the two of you are both too engrossed to notice his lingering presence standing just a few feet away.

“Thank you so much for lending me these. The kids keep me on my toes and I haven’t had any time to settle down with a good book so these were perfect,” you utter gratefully, handing off the pile of poetry books to Yori’s awaiting hands. Names of authors that Bucky doesn’t recognize catch his eye, just as his friend finally catches his presence.

“Of course. I have more if you’re ever interested,” he says before finally addressing the elephant in the hallway. “James, there you are. I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”

Bucky stiffens at the sound of his name, heat immediately crawling up his neck as you turn to him with a friendly smile. Clearing his throat, he steps forward and musters up a meager grin in return.

“Like I’d ever miss Tuesday lunch,” he jokes, a nervous chuckle falling past his lips.

“I guess I better get going. Thank you again, Yori,” you chime with a grateful smile. Then, with your attention turned to Bucky, “Have a nice lunch, James.”

“Thank you...” he trails quietly, mentally kicking himself for his stiff demeanor and wishing he could be less pathetic in your presence just once. Just once and he’d die a happy man.

You leave with a polite smile, turning down the hallway and out of Bucky’s grasp once again. Yori elbows his side.

“She’s single, you know.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Bucky replies with a wry chuckle. “You have me set up with one girl already.”

“Right,” Yori notes thoughtfully with a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes that Bucky can’t quite decipher. “I think you’re going to have a nice time on your date.”

“We’ll see,” is all he says in reply, your smile the only thing on his mind as the two men head out for the day.

Wednesday

Bucky has grown to love rainy days, days in which he can remain tucked away in the warmth and comfort of his own home with a relaxing mug of hot chocolate in one hand and some piece of pop culture media he has yet to catch up with in the other. Today’s pick is a book titled The Outsiders, and Bucky chooses to sit upon the windowsill to read the novel.

Gentle drops of rain trail down the glass window, pattering soothingly in a way that makes Bucky fear he may fall asleep. He sets the book aside with a tired sigh and glances out the window with his warm cheek pressed against the cool surface; the city is quiet and the streets nearly empty, and this makes it easier to spot you.

It’s almost as if you’ve been popping up out of nowhere lately, but Bucky never seems to mind. Watch from afar, that was the deal he made with himself, so who was he to complain if you made the task easier for him? He could never have you the way he wanted to because he doubted you’d ever want an unstable old man like him, and even if you did he’d be no good for you. He knew girls like you back in his day, girls with stars in their eyes and hearts on their sleeves, girls who’d melt in his arms whenever he so much as smiled at them. And yet you weren’t like any girl he’d ever seen; you were an enigma and he wanted nothing more than to spend all of eternity deciphering the mystery of you. But he couldn’t, because he shouldn’t, so he didn’t.

Despite the gloomy gray skies hanging above you there’s a serene smile on your face as you stop to admire the pots of sunflowers outside the building, reminding Bucky he has to buy some for his date on Saturday. God, he was dreading it. Bucky was sure whatever girl Yori picked for him would be nice enough, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes wish it were you he’d be taking out for a night on the town. A guy can dream, right?

You retreat into a nearby coffee shop when the rain begins to fall harder, and as Bucky turns to his own warm drink he finds that the mug is now cold. Book discarded, he rises from his spot on the windowsill and drowsily drags himself into the kitchen for another cup.

For a moment he thinks sunflowers might surely bring about his demise, and the passing thought brings the smallest of smiles to his face. Only time will tell.

Thursday

“How are you feeling about your date on Saturday?”

The woman stares at him expectantly, pristine notepad resting casually in her lap, pen in hand as a warning, eyebrows raised at the man as he stares down contemplatively at the stitching of his leather gloves. What should be a comforting environment instead only seems to put him on edge, and as the seconds tick by on the clock hung crookedly above the doorway her pen only seems to get closer to the blank page below her. Shoulders sagging, Bucky can only offer a small sigh in response.

“I can’t say I feel too great about it,” he finally says, the tension in his shoulders alleviating slightly as she finally puts the pen down.

“And why’s that?” Doctor Raynor prods curiously.

“I just don’t really think I’m all that ready for a relationship. What person wants to be with someone as screwed up as me?”

“The right person will,” Christina comforts. Your smiling face flashes briefly in his mind in response and he shifts in discomfort— the doctor notices. “But I don’t think you’re telling me the full story here, James. I suspect there’s something else that’s holding you back. Or maybe someone.”

“That obvious, huh?” Bucky retorts with a wry smile.

“Who’s the lucky person?”

“Her name’s y/n,” he says, your name falling past his lips in the softest tone Dr. Raynor has ever heard from him before. “I don’t know her all that well, but she lives in my apartment building so I see her around a lot. She’s... she’s really pretty.”

“Well, what is it about y/n that you like?”

Geez, where do I even begin?

“I don’t know,” Bucky shrugs, picking absently at a loose seam on the end of his shirt, “I guess I like how friendly she is. Every time I see her she’s always smiling, she always says good morning to everyone and lends a hand wherever she can. It’s like she goes out of her way to be nice to me, and I’m not really used to that but it’s a nice feeling. The first time I met her she never even flinched, she wasn’t scared like other people usually are, and even when I blew her off she still made it clear that I was welcome and if I needed a friend she’d be there. That’s the kind of person she is.”

“Did you take her up on that offer?” The woman asks, but by the look on her face Bucky is sure she already knows the answer.

“No...”

“James, we’ve talked about this,” Christina says firmly, “you have to stop closing yourself off from the people around you. Making a friend could really help you, especially if this girl is truly as nice as you say she is.”

“She is,” he reiterates firmly, “and that’s why I can’t be her friend.”

The doctor’s brows furrow with piqued interest at his admission, legs shifting underneath her as she gets comfortable in preparation for what will most likely be a heavy confession. “Can you elaborate for me?” She says. Bucky sighs.

“After everything that’s happened, and everything the world has been through, it just gets harder and harder to find some sort of light in the dark. So when you finally do find it, it’s like you have to do everything in your power to make sure it never goes out.”

“So y/n is a light?” Raynor reaffirms.

“For so many people,” Bucky nods, “and if I try to put myself in the picture I’ll only bring her down. There’s no future with me, and she deserves better than that.”

“How do you know that if you never put yourself out there?” The doctor asks softly, silently stunned by the heavy confession Bucky has entrusted her with; it’s the most he’s ever opened up before.

Pieces of the past dart through his mind, and in the midst of all the heartache and the chaos he sees Yori, the one friendship he’s been able to successfully maintain since his period of healing. The memory of the man is pleasant for a moment, until Bucky is reminded of the basis of their friendship and how one single confession will tear down everything they’ve built together. It doesn’t matter what kind of man he is now or how much control he has over his own life, the Winter Soldier will always have the final say, and nothing will ever change that. Finally, he speaks.

“I just do.”

Friday

“Crap.”

The softly uttered curse sounds from across the hallway and alerts Bucky of his struggling neighbor’s presence. Purse slipping off your shoulder and heavy groceries spilling from your arms, you struggle to maneuver your key into the lock of your front door all while the heat of embarrassment engulfs your body in a suffocating hold. You’re not as put together as you usually are, your belongings in disarray and eyes full of exhaustion rivaling that of his own, your usually meticulously picked clothing replaced by joggers and an old college sweatshirt that’s three sizes too big on you, and yet Bucky still finds himself frozen in your presence.

Don’t just stand there, help her you idiot, his mind screams at him, the soldier harshly swallowing down his nerves before taking shaky steps towards you. An orange slips out of the brown paper bag and rolls towards his feet, and Bucky takes it as his in into a conversation.

“Need some help?” He asks with a crooked smile, one that softens at the look of distress clear in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” you breathe out before offering a meager smile of your own. “Some help would be great, thank you.”

Bucky takes the heavier bags of groceries from your aching arms and returns the orange to its rightful place, allowing you the chance to take your keys and unlock the door. You don’t spare him another glance as you walk in, leaving it open as a silent invitation for him to let himself in. Bucky swallows nervously but wordlessly follows behind; he’s never been in a woman’s apartment before, and the fact that it’s yours makes the experience all the more nerve wracking.

Your apartment is small but personalized, decorated with little knickknacks and houseplants and old family portraits that Bucky does his best not to stare at in fear of being rude, and the vanilla scented candle that burns on the coffee table makes him feel all the more welcome. You drop your purse by the couch with a tired sigh before directing your attention to the man who stands awkwardly in your living room. His hulking figure makes your apartment seem tiny, oddly comforting in a way, but you hold back your giggles and merely guide him to your kitchen.

“You can set them on the counter,” you say with a passive wave before reaching into one of the cabinets for a glass cup. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, thank you,” the man says politely as he settles the heavy bags down on the marble surface; as much as he’d like to sit and spend the evening with you, he can’t stay long, or more like he won’t allow himself to stay long. Your movements are clumsy as you down your glass of water, and Bucky looks away flustered as little droplets begin to escape the corners of your lips and dribble down your neck. “I hope I’m not overstepping by asking this, but are you alright? You seem a bit... flustered.”

“Is it that obvious?” You joke quietly, your smile barely reaching your eyes as you fidget with the sleeves of your sweater.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky begins to say in fear of overstepping, but you merely shake your head in response.

“I’m just a little stressed out. The kids always keep me on my toes, especially now that there’s more of them, and it’s been hard trying to get some of them to readjust.”

“Kids?” He repeats with furrowed brows. He can’t recall ever seeing you with any children, and there’s no sign of any living with you in your apartment. A genuine laugh leaves your lips this time at his response and Bucky tenses uncomfortably. Did he say something wrong?

“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” you explain with a smile, and everything clicks in Bucky’s mind then. That would explain the constant paint stains and trails of glitter left in your wake, the arts and crafts supplies and stacks of drawings you seem to carry with you everywhere. And here he thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger than it already was— were you even real?

“The effects of the blip have been really difficult for them. It’s hard having to come back to school and see that all your old friends are now five grades ahead of you. I know everyone has been impacted in some way by what happened, but it’s harder for the younger ones to understand. I’m doing my best to make the transition back to normalcy easier for them, but some days are harder than others, you know?”

“Sounds rough,” is all Bucky can manage to say, swallowing his emotions back harshly.

“Yeah,” you sigh quietly, rubbing away the clear exhaustion in your eyes, “but I’m trying my best.”

“Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

You smile then, a genuine smile, one that makes Bucky weak in the knees, and suddenly it’s as if all the weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

“I really needed to hear that,” you utter softly, “thank you.”

“What are neighbors for?” Bucky jokes lamely, but you must like his sense of humor for you let out the quietest of giggles.

“You’re sweet. I like talking with you, but I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re a busy guy.”

“Not really,” he shrugs with a crooked smile, “I just had some errands to run before tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” You ask curiously, brows raising with interest as Bucky awkwardly looks down at your hardwood floor.

“I’ve got a date.”

“Huh, no kidding. Me too,” you smile, and in response Bucky’s heart slowly begins to sink to his stomach. Yori had said you were single, but only an idiot would believe that someone like you could stay that way for long. Maybe if he had taken the doctor’s advice sooner he could be the one you’re seeing instead of the lucky guy that beat him to it.

“I should get going... I’ll see you around.”

“Thank you again for the help, and good luck on your date,” you say with an encouraging smile. Bucky swallows harshly in response, a look of longing in his eyes that he hides well with a meager quirk of his lips.

“You too,” he murmurs in response, casting you once last glance before showing himself out. The lock clicks behind him, and Bucky trudges back to his own empty apartment.

Saturday

The dining patio of the Italian restaurant is pleasantly empty, but the quiet stillness does little to help soothe Bucky’s nerves as he waits for the arrival of his date. He probably should have asked Yori what she looked like, what her name was and what she’d be wearing so he’d know what to expect, but the old man had been adamant on keeping the identity of his date a surprise.

“It’ll be better that way,” he had said, “trust me.”

The bouquet of sunflowers sits before him on the table almost tauntingly, their bright colors and sweet scent sending his senses into overdrive. He almost resented them, but then he thought of your smiling face through the window and the tension from his shoulders began to dissipate— if you could be strong and put on a brave face despite all the bad things that had happened in the world, then so could he.

“James?” A meek voice calls quietly, pulling the man from his thoughts. His blue eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the woman standing before him and he swallows anxiously.

“Y/n?” Bucky replies, quickly rising from his seat and cringing at the way in which the legs of the chair scrape harshly across the floor with his sudden movements. Here he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, and here you were proving him wrong with your cute little outfit and styled hair and charming smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my date,” you explain with a sheepish smile. Bucky deflates— not only would he have to suffer through his own painfully awkward date, but he’d also have to sit and watch you get swept off your feet by someone else all in the same night.

“Oh... well, who’s the lucky guy?”

“That’s the thing,” you say with a nervous laugh, “I think you are.”

“Me?” Bucky repeats flabbergasted. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Yori was the one who said I should try dating again. He thought it would be good for me to spend some time with other adults since I’m always with my students, and when I said I didn’t really know anyone he told me he’d take care of it for me. All he told me was to come to this restaurant Saturday at six and look for the man with sunflowers,” you summarize before gesturing to the bouquet on the table, “and you’re the only one here with sunflowers so...”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Bucky then at the realization, and he isn’t sure whether he should jump for joy or wait for the ground below to swallow him whole. Finally he had a chance to spend time with the girl who had taken over his thoughts and occupied every available space in his heart, and yet he couldn’t help but feel terrified. A date was a big step up from neighborly conversation in your apartment, and all of Bucky’s hopes of developing something more with you were riding on this one date. Yori knew exactly what he was doing by setting the two of you up, and Bucky had no choice but to be grateful for the man who had bestowed upon him the chance to finally win you over.

“If this is too awkward for you we can just skip this whole date—“

“No, it’s not awkward at all,” Bucky is quick to interject. “I mean, this whole thing is certainly a surprise but it’s a good one. It’s an honor to be your blind date.”

He flashes a charming smile that makes you weak in the knees, and he knows then that he’s back in the game— who would have guessed he’d be able to dust off his old moves with such ease? He had to if he wanted any kind of chance at winning you over.

“In that case, why don’t we get out of here? This restaurant is a little stuffy,” you note with a small chuckle, your nerves slowly beginning to dwindle.

“Alright, what do you have in mind?”

The nightlife atmosphere of the plaza square is surprisingly much more comfortable compared to the dining patio, and Bucky considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to witness firsthand the way your eyes seem to sparkle with the light of the starry sky. A nighttime stroll is right up Bucky’s alley, and you both fall into a comfortable step as you talk about whatever topic seems to come to mind. You speak of your students, about how much their smiling little faces have helped you get through the toughest times, how there’s a stray cat who calls the dumpsters behind your apartment building a home and waits for your arrival on trash days because you always bring the feline a special treat. Alpine, you had named it, and Bucky adored that greatly.

The details are vague but you enjoy the stories he tells you of his childhood and the way his whole face seems to light up at the mere mention of his mother and sister; that look dwindles slightly when he speaks of his old best friend, but you pretend not to notice. As a younger man Bucky worked at the docks before serving time in the army, though he fails to mention where he’d been stationed, and now he works for the government. You feel almost giddy to be learning so much about the man you once believed would rather prefer solitude over your company, and as the night drags on and the conversation begins to dwindle you almost wish you could reverse the clock and do it all over again.

“Thank you,” Bucky says after a moment of silence, prompting you to halt your steps and raise a brow curiously at your counterpart.

"What for?"

“Taking a chance on a guy like me,” he smiles faintly while offering you a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t really done anything like this in a while, and the idea of putting myself back out there scared me shitless, but you just make things so much easier. I guess what I’m trying to say is when I’m with you everything comes naturally, and I really appreciate that.”

“Oh,” you utter softly, a sheepish smile of your own gracing your lips as you turn away to admire the scenery around you. It isn’t until now that you notice you’ve stopped before the fountain, the arches of water flowing overhead illuminated by the fluorescent lights below them. A nervous fluttering occupies your stomach and when you finally meet Bucky’s gaze you feel as if nothing else in the entire world mattress other than the two of you in this moment. “Well, if it makes you feel any better I’m kind of in the same boat, so that just means we can figure this out as we go. Together.”

“I like that,” Bucky affirms with a nod, a look that can only be described as lovestruck taking over his features. Nerves overcome you then as you clutch your bouquet of flowers to your chest, heart thrumming rapidly in your rib cage as Bucky steps closer. The glove that had once shielded his right hand from the cold is now missing as he gently cups your cheek and encompasses you with his warmth. His palm is calloused and rough but comforting all the same, and it takes everything in your power not to melt like putty in his grasp.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs quietly as if raising his voice any higher will ruin the moment.

“Yeah,” you breathe shakily, swallowing back your nerves, “it’s okay.”

Your softly uttered words of confirmation are all Bucky needs to hear before dipping down and gently brushing his lips against your own. His movements are hesitant for only a moment, and it is only once he’s sure you are comfortable and secure that he moves in for more. Your lips are soft against his own, plush and warm and so sweet, and as your eyes begin to flutter shut and the forgotten sunflowers slip out of your grasp you drape your arms securely across his shoulders at the same moment in which his left hand joins his right in cupping your face as if you were a precious jewel in need of the upmost care.

Nothing exists when you are in each other’s arms, you are safe and sound in your own little world, and as you part to take a breath Bucky realizes then that one kiss is all he needs to know that you are the one he’s been waiting for all his life.

And by god, if you aren’t more than worth the wait.

[dweetwise]

new chapter hype! have some quick hcs about how i think the killers would react to ji-woon.

The Trickster & killers headcanons

Evan thought he’d seen it all, but now there’s an obnoxious kid in a ridiculous costume prancing around in their ranks. Ji-Woon immediately makes it clear, in heavily accented English, that he’s not going to take orders from anyone, so Evan mostly leaves him alone and waits for the Entity to put him back in line.

Philip senses how unhinged the new killer is under the carefully presented flamboyant exterior. He stays in his cloak to avoid the Trickster as much as possible, even leaving his own realm if the other killer trespasses on the Autohaven grounds.

Max is wary at first, on edge due to Ji-Woon’s sudden, maniacal outbursts. But after the killer proves more than happy to completely ignore him, Max starts watching his song and dance routines from afar, the Trickster’s flashy getup reminding him of whimsy he hasn’t seen since his childhood movies.

Sally is brought back to unpleasant memories of the asylum and some of its patients with delusions of grandeur. She has no desire to deal with the Trickster’s god complex and usually blinks away whenever he’s in the vicinity.

Michael, mistaking Ji-Woon for a survivor, tries to kill him right off the bat. When the Entity intervenes to prevent it, he settles for staring at the teen instead. As usual, the mask betrays nothing, but Michael is secretly disgruntled when the idol only seems to thrive on the attention instead of being unnerved.

Lisa is more confused than anything. Why is some supposedly big pop star joining their group of horrible, disfigured monsters? Seeing his youthful, unmarred face is a cruel reminder of the life she missed out on, and she withdraws to the swamp to reminiscence about her past.

Herman is quick to strike up conversation with the boy; not to make friends, but to study him and find out what makes him tick. He’s intrigued by the clear sadistic tendencies the Trickster displays, promptly inviting the killer over to the hospital for experiments.

Anna is on her guard, despite the Trickster not appearing to pose much of a threat due to his small stature and skinny build. She knows better than to underestimate people, having learned that brightly colored animals are often the most venomous.

Bubba is terrified of Ji-Woon, even though he could probably overpower the lanky killer if he had to. The Trickster is loud and unpredictable, spooking Bubba on numerous occasions with sudden movement or a maniacal laugh.

Freddy loves murdering teenagers and is a little peeved that the Entity doesn’t allow him to do so with this one. He tries to give a snarky, villainy monologue to get under the Trickster’s skin, but the idol only starts talking over him in Korean before turning on his heel and arrogantly flinging an autograph over his shoulder, robbing Freddy of his moment.

Amanda is initially fascinated by his power; throwing small blades into people’s skin until they eventually collapse from their wounds is a creative way of torture, after all. But as soon as she approaches Ji-Woon, it quickly becomes evident that he sees himself as above her, claiming she should be honored to even be in his presence. Having none of that, Amanda starts plotting petty revenge to sabotage his knives.

Jeffrey is entertained, claiming the Trickster’s knife-throwing act would have landed him a spot in the circus he used to travel with. He has no issue with the kid, and as Ji-Woon doesn’t have a realm of his own, the idol can sometimes be found wandering the chapel or practicing his throwing skills on the circus target board.

Rin has a moment of nostalgia, Ji-Woon reminding her of her life before, when she was just a normal teenager with idol posters on her wall. However, his arrogance is very off-putting to her, angry that his behavior taints the few pleasant memories she has left.

Legion laugh their asses off. They have a field day with mocking his outfit and music, egging each other on with the dumbest of jokes, claiming he looks even more like a clown than Jeffrey.

Adiris, through his body language and golden outfit, concludes him as a false idol. Thinking he’s mocking her god and trying to lead people astray, her contempt for him only grows, and she’s known to burst into reciting sermons to draw attention away from the Trickster’s performances.

Danny’s narcissism knows no bounds and it doesn’t take long before he sees Ji-Woon as competition, hogging the spotlight from Danny and his genius. While the Trickster boasts about killing fans and managers alike, Danny can’t help the pure rage bubbling up, thinking how unprofessional and downright sloppy the novice killer’s methods are. However, he keeps his cards close to his chest, already planning how he’ll undermine the new arrival instead of direct confrontation.

Demo sees a lanky teen with a baseball bat and instantly distrusts the Trickster. Will aggressively hiss and be extremely on edge whenever the killer is near.

Kazan is angry. The new killer is loud and flashy and seems to have misunderstood the concept of honor entirely, having replaced it with pure arrogance. If the two are in the same room, the Oni can usually be found roaring Japanese insults at the Trickster or trying to club some sense into the youngster.

Caleb views Ji-Woon as nothing more than an annoying brat. He has no respect for the killer’s ineffective choice of weapon, the pathetic blades all bark and no bite; just like their owner.

Pyramid Head’s fingers twitch where he’s grasping his sword. The new killer reeks of sin and would their captor allow it, the executioner would inflict proper judgment on him once and for all.

Talbot sees the killer’s narcissism and immediately starts planning how to exploit it in his next experiment. He’s curious to see what would happen should he make Ji-Woon as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside.

Charlotte and Victor are hesitantly intrigued by Ji-Woon at first, as he’s got an aura of entertainer all around him. They watch one of his numbers in awe, but their joy is short-lived. Immediately after his performance, the Trickster sneers at them in disgust, as if the twins are nothing but a fleck of dirt on his shiny coat.

[five-rivers]

Green Sky Highway

Phic Phight Phic for @deuynndoodles

.

The Fenton Ecto Cell Bettery (aka the Better Battery) was designed to draw power from not only an internal, pre-charged store of ectoplasm, but also from ambient, atmospheric ectoplasm.  This meant that it would never run out of juice so long as it was in the Ghost Zone.  The Specter Speeder was designed to travel in the Ghost Zone.  Thus, the Betteries were the perfect power source for it.  In theory.  

In practice… Well, that just wasn’t working out, and Maddie didn’t know why.  She gripped the underside of the dash and tried to push herself deeper beneath it to get a better view of the machinery.  

“Maddie?  You see anything?” asked Jack, who couldn’t fit under the dash.  He’d been inspecting as much of the engine as he could from the inside, which wasn’t much.  The Speeder wasn’t designed to be serviced while free-floating in the Ghost Zone.  

Which, now that she thought of it, was a serious oversight.  

“Everything looks fine,” said Maddie.  “Except that it doesn’t have any power.  Nothing’s lighting up, but all the connections look good. You?”

“I can’t get anything to work.  Anything.  It’s like… we’re in some kind of technological dead zone.  But that doesn’t make sense.”

Maddie pulled herself out to see Jack vigorously scratching his head and shedding dandruff everywhere.  “Ghosts do tend to disrupt technology.”

“But we fixed that.  We designed all our weapons to work with that.”

“We know there are things we don’t know,” said Maddie, “and it’s always good to find new things!  Though not pleasant to find them out like this…”  They should really test their inventions more, honestly.  

But it had been over a year of testing since they opened the portal.  They had to jump in at some point, didn’t they?  That was the whole point of the portal.  

She sighed.  “Well, we didn’t have a lot of forward momentum when the portal cut out.”  She looked out the window.  “We could see if we can get out and engage our jetpacks.”

“Uh, about that,” said Jack.  He swung open the door to the jetpack cabinet.  The empty jetpack cabinet.  “I may have forgotten to put them back after refueling them.”

“Jack…”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Maddie massaged the bridge of her nose with her mostly-clean knuckles.  This was a repeat of the handle inside the weapons vault.  At least he wasn’t pushing the blame for it back onto Danny or Jazz.  That would definitely have started a fight.  

On the other hand, there really wasn’t any guarantee the jetpacks would even still be functional, so maybe it was for the best. For certain values of best.  

She groaned.  

There was a knocking sound.  “Is that coming from the engine?” Maddie asked.  

“No…” said Jack, slowly.  “I think it came from the door…”

They both turned to stare.  Something moved outside it.  They shifted to get a better view out the window.  

Phantom was out there, tapping on the door with a ten-foot pole.  

“That little unnatural abomination,” cursed Jack under his breath.  “He’s going to scratch the paint!”

Phantom apparently saw them and waved.  “Hey!” he shouted, just loud enough to be heard through the walls of the Speeder.  “Do you guys need a lift?”

Jack and Maddie turned to each other.  

“How did he know we were here?”

“I don’t know,” said Jack.  “Do you think he followed us?”

“It wouldn’t be difficult, but I’m surprised he didn’t show up on our detectors.”

“He does seem to have the ability to drop off of them.”

“True,” said Maddie.  “So, how do we handle this?  Fenton bat?”

“I don’t know, Mads.  He might be, uh, sincere?  That time with the ectofiltrator he did help me.”

“That’s one, single, datapoint.  He’s a been a menace every other time we’ve encountered him.”

“I don’t know that we have much other choice,” said Jack, nodding towards the dead engines and the empty jetpack cabinet.

Maddie huffed out a sigh, then looked back at Phantom, who waved again.  

“Fine.  We still have to decide how to deal with him while we’re cooperating with him.  Or if he decides to show his true colors.”

“Good idea.”

.

Danny knew this had been a terrible, terrible idea the moment his parents opened the door to the Speeder armed to the teeth.  Why did they always feel the need to do that? None of the weapons, with the possible exceptions of the Fenton Bat and the Fenton Crowbar could even work here.

How his parents had, on their first jaunt into the Ghost Zone, managed to run smack into the Time Locked Lands was beyond him. They had to go to the one place in the Ghost Zone that the Speeder wouldn’t work and after coating the Speeder with some kind of anti-ghost spray that Danny absolutely refused to touch again.  Ever. Especially in ghost form.  Except with a ten-foot pole.

(If they’d left the spray off, he could have just pushed the Speeder back out of the Time Locked Lands.  But, no, they had to make everything as difficult and painful as possible.)

“I am not carrying all that,” said Danny, flatly.

(Especially because it would all turn back on once they left the Time Lost Lands, and if there wasn’t a Specter Deflector under all that, he’d eat his own belt.)

“Then we aren’t going anywhere with you!” proclaimed Maddie.  

“You’re stranded in the middle of the Ghost Zone. I don’t think you have a choice.”

“We do!”

“I could literally just fly over there and snatch you right now.  Plus, again, stranded.  Do you even have any food in there?”

“Of course we do!” said Maddie.  “We aren’t incompetent.”

Jack looked guilty.  Danny decided not to bring it up.

“Okay, but still, you’re going to run out eventually, and then you’ll still be floating in the Ghost Zone with no way to get out.  You aren’t going to get another friendly ghost coming by.”

“I’ve never seen a friendly ghost to begin with!”

“Maddie…”

“I can just leave, you know,” said Danny, planting his hands on his hips and bluffing for all he was worth.  He was not leaving his parents here to be used as hostages or who knew what else.  

Hopefully, they wouldn’t call the bluff.  They shouldn’t.  No sane, reasonable person would.  He was their only way out of this mess.  On the other hand, his parents had never been completely sane, reasonable people.  

Danny thought his odds were about fifty-fifty.  Which meant he could hope.  

Jack and Maddie had an intense, whispered conversation. This, thankfully, lead to them divesting themselves of most of their visible weaponry.  Which meant that they still had more guns on them than most professional soldiers during a firefight.  

Well, it was better than he’d expected.  But it was still too many.  

“Take the Specter Deflectors off,” he said.  “What do you think will happen if I try to carry you and you have those on.”

There was muttering.  

“Come on, come on,” said Danny, snapping his fingers. Which really shouldn’t work through his gloves but did anyway.  

Sometimes ghost nonsense was good for making lasers fly from your hands, and sometimes it was good for tiny aesthetic breaks in physics. It was a grab bag, really.  

“Alright,” said Danny.  “I’m going to fly over and pick you up.  Don’t hit me.”

Oh, jeez, he was not looking forward to carrying them all the way over to the portal.  Sure, he could bench press a school bus, but there was a difference between holding up a school bus for a minute and carrying two people who hated his guts a mile through enemy territory while flying slowly enough not to give them windburn.  

Sure, it’d probably only take a few minutes, even then, but those would be the longest few minutes in his entire life.  Not counting his actual death.  

.

Being carried by Phantom had to be the single worst experience in Jack’s entire life.  

It wasn’t the speed or the lack of control – he loved carnival rides – or the height – Jack couldn’t tell you how many buildings he’d jumped off in pursuit of ghosts – or even the fact that Phantom was a sinister specter, and ectoplasmic emanation, a putrid piece of protoplasm – he’d been carried by ghosts before, usually ones who were a lot more upfront about wanting to kill him.  

Actually, Jack didn’t know why he didn’t like it. He just didn’t.  

Maybe it was just how uncomfortable it was?  But Jack did way more uncomfortable things. Like interacting with his sister-in-law. Brr.  

Maybe it was the lurking feeling behind every interaction he ever had with Phantom that there was something he just wasn’t seeing, some hidden truth that would make everything about Phantom, every contradiction, every confusion, make sense.

Nah, that couldn’t be it.  Maddie would have figured it out by now.  That’s why they made such a great team.  He noticed the things she didn’t, and she noticed the things he didn’t.  

“You’re going the wrong way,” snapped Maddie.  

Just like that!

Wait.  That was a really bad thing.

“I’m not going the wrong way,” snapped Phantom.  “I’m avoiding Walker’s prison.  I don’t know how he didn’t catch you on your way out, but I’m not eager to be thrown in jail for a thousand years.”

“Ghosts have jail?” asked Jack surprised.  

“Depends where you are,” said Phantom.  “Walker isn’t really a sheriff, though.  There’s no government behind him and he just makes up rules randomly so he can lock up anybody he doesn’t like.”

“Like you,” observed Jack.  

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re even wanted by whatever passes for the law here?”

“First, rude.  Secondly, there are realms in here that are just as organized and civilized as any country on Earth.  Just because you opened your portal into the equivalent of post-apocalyptic Detroit doesn’t mean it’s all like this.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Maddie.  

“I could arrange that, you know,” said Phantom, stilling.

Jack laughed nervously.  “Maybe another time?”  The ghost would do what it would do, but they didn’t need to encourage him to bring them even deeper into the Ghost Zone.  They were currently banking on Phantom’s obsession with heroics to get them home, but if they changed the equation…  Yeah, Jack didn’t want to deal with the consequences of that.  

Ghosts were like computers that ran only one program. One homicidal, destructive program.

It was like that thought experiment about an AI whose job was to maximize the number of paperclips.  It’d just keep on making more and more paperclips until nothing was left.  Which was why they had to be stopped.  

Easier said than done, as Jack and Maddie had learned.

“You don’t have to be so freaked out,” muttered Phantom. “It isn’t like I’m going to kidnap you or anything.”  He pretended to sigh.  

What was the point of that?  He had to know that Jack and Maddie wouldn’t fall for his tricks. Actually, come to think of it, he was miming breathing, too, and had been the whole time.  

Maybe that’s why Jack was so uncomfortable.  The constant undercurrent of deception.  

Hmmm… something to think on.  

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, pointing.  

“Uh,” said Phantom, who did a double take.  

Ooh, that wasn’t reassuring.  

.

Danny clenched his teeth, his parents’ reactions to him weren’t reassuring, and even less reassuring was the way Pariah’s Keep had moved from its usual creepy location and to this new creepy location. Not that there were any non-creepy locations in the Ghost Zone.  It was part of the place’s charm.  

No, really.  Some part of Danny craved the creepiness.  He was half-ghost, after all.  

(Even if his idea of creepiness was, according to his friends, sort of lame.)

But back to the main point.  The keep really, really shouldn’t be here.  And it was creeping him out.  

It should be okay to just… fly past it, though, right? Just being in its airspace in the past hadn’t done anything bad.  So, flying by with his parents in tow shouldn’t do anything either.  Right?

Danny put on more speed, just in case.  This coincided with a bunch of large ghost ravens (or were they crows?) dive bombing them and forcing him to land to defend himself and parents.  The only land around being the rim of the island that supported the keep.

He knew something like this would happen. Maybe not exactly this, but he just knew he’d be attacked and everything would devolve into nonsense, and—

Huh.  The birds weren’t attacking him, just his parents.  Oh, these were racist (mortalist?) birds.  Gross.  Trust Pariah Dark to have bigoted birds.  He called up a shield to protect his parents.  Whereupon they shot him in the back, shouting about how he betrayed them to the birds, because why not?  

Why was his life like this?

He pushed himself up off the ground.  Starbursts twinkled behind his eyes.  Neither his parents nor the crows were in sight.  The crows could have gone anywhere.  His parents on the other hand…

There was only one place they could have gone.  

Well.  At least none of the nonsentient traps would work on them, seeing as they were humans. What were the odds that they’d run into one of the sentient defenders?

Well… considering the ravens?

Yeah.  That’d be about one hundred percent.

.

“Maddie, I don’t know about this…” said Jack, examining the tall, vaulted ceiling.  

“We had to get away from Phantom.  This was the only way to go.”

“But he came here for a reason, Mads,” whispered Jack, tip-toing.

“Yeah, this is definitely a trap.  But what can we do?”

“Jack?  Maddie? This is not a place you want to wander around in! Oh, holy—” There was a loud thump.  

Maddie grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him forward. “We have to get away from him.”

“Come on!  This is a floating island!  I’m your only way off!  Why are you like this?”

“He has a point,” said Jack.  

Maddie stopped.  “I guess he does.”

“This is literally the worst place you could have picked to run away!”  A sound like a very large door opening and closing reached their ears.  “This is Pariah Dark’s place!  Where did you even go?”

“Mads?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s Pariah Dark?”

“I think that was the name of the ghost that sucked the town into the Ghost Zone a few months ago.”

“Please, guys!  I’m trying to help you here!  This place is ultra-dangerous!  You could accidentally – yikes! – wake up Pariah Dark.”  

“Maybe we should…”

“Yeah,” said Maddie, “maybe we should.”

“Phantom!” called Jack.  “Phantom!  We’re over—” The floor opened up underneath them and they fell into the dark.  

.

Maddie woke to a dark room, tied to a chair.  She noticed the faintly glowing ghost in front of her and jolted backwards.

The ghost wore a set of painted and engraved plate armor, a pair of lavender-white eyes glowing from behind the slats of its visor.  A knight, of sorts, Maddie supposed.  

“You…” droned the ghost in a painfully stereotypical ghostly moan.  “Enemies of the king… why have you come here?”

“Huh?”

That was Jack’s voice.  He was tied behind her, apparently.  

“We don’t have anything to say to you,” snapped Maddie.

“Uh,” said Jack.  Something twisted behind Maddie.  “Are you a friend of Phantom?”

“A friend?  A friend?”

“I’m going to take that as a no,” muttered Maddie.  

The door of the room flew off its hinges.  “Fright Knight!” shouted Phantom, pointing a glowing finger.  “Wait, you aren’t Fright Knight.  Who are you, and what do you want with my- With, uh, the Fenton ghost hunters?  Who I don’t know very well at all. Promise.”

“What,” said the ghost.  

“What,” said Maddie.  

“What,” said Jack.  

“Okay, forget everything I just said.”  He gestured at the ghost.  “Who are you?”

“My name is Paladin, my liege.”

“Okay, okay, cool, cool.  I- Wait, what?  What did you call me?”

“My liege?”

Phantom looked like he was having an existential crisis.  

“Maddie was right!” exclaimed Jack, who couldn’t see Phantom’s face.  “You did lead us into a trap!”

“What?  No?  I’ve never even met this guy before!  You are a guy, right?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Right.  I’m going to put that on the backburner and freak out about it later.  How are you- Why are you—” Phantom shook his head.  “Why are you here in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It’s your keep.”

“Since when?”

“Say what now?” asked Jack and Maddie at once.  

“Look, this is news to me, too.  But, back to the question.  You.  The keep. Why?  I mean, you weren’t here before.”

“That is because Pariah sealed me, my liege.  When you defeated him, I was released and immediately swore fealty to the true king.  You.”

“I am so freaking out right now, but we’ll revisit that. Later.  Right now, I have to get these guys home.”

“But they have hostile intentions towards your person, my liege!”

“Everyone has hostile intentions towards me.  I’m honestly surprised you haven’t attacked me yet.”

“Ah.  My liege, perhaps you should seek the services of a priest, if all your experiences with new people are such.”

“Is that the medieval equivalent of a therapist?”

“I fear I do not know what that is.  Why do you ask?”

“Because the last time I talked to one of those, they purposefully picked at every one of my insecurities and then tried to murder my, uh.  Someone close to me.”

“An evil counselor, then,” said the knight, gravely.

“I want to agree with you, but somehow I feel like you’re talking about something completely different than the image in my head.”

“That may be true, my liege.  Doubtless, you are very wise.”

Maddie was… lost.  

Very lost.  

Even so, her prerogative was escaping.  She started twisting, trying to get to the knots around her wrists.  

“Did you, uh, pilot the castle out here?”

“Yes.  I sensed that mortal enemies of the king, that’s you—”

“I will debate that as soon as my brain stops screaming at me.”

“—had entered the Realm.”

“Right.  Yeah. Thank you.  But I can handle these guys.  And I need to get them home.  Please. I made a deal with them.”

“With these?”

“Hey!” said Jack, offended.  

“I mean, I use the term deal pretty loosely.”

“Hey!”

“But yes.  Please.  Just.  Dang.  How did you tie them up that quickly?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Do you mind if I take the chairs?”

“They are your chairs, my liege.”

“I’m still not used to that.”

“Are you quite certain you want to take them?  And just… Let them loose?  The dungeon here is very functional.  We even have an oubliette.”

“Raincheck.  But thank you.  Really, I mean it.”  Phantom flew behind Maddie, and she protested as the chair she was in was yanked upward. “Uh… I might have gotten turned around a time or two, so if you could…”

“Of course!  The keep does seem to have sustained some damage, so we will have to take some detours.”

“Phantom!  Phantom! Put us down and untie us.”

“Nah, I think I like this better.  Your kids can untie you once I bring you back!”

“You’re going to drag us all the way through the Ghost Zone?”

“That’s the plan.”

.

The rest of the flight was surprisingly pleasant. No one attacked, and his parents were much easier to carry in the chairs.  Sure, they struggled, but the struggling was much more manageable than the wriggling from before.  

They were mad at him.  But they were always mad at him.  So.  

No loss, really.

With the utmost carefulness, Danny set them down in the middle of the lab, still tied up, and then began zapping then tossing their most troublesome inventions into the gaping maw of the portal while they screamed at him.  

Normally, he wouldn’t do this, especially after successfully rescuing his parents and hopefully raising their opinion of him, but some of those inventions were painful.  Like.  A lot painful.  And dangerous.  Also, he was doing his level best to avoid thinking about the whole ‘king’ thing.  

Which he couldn’t do forever.  

Especially since Jazz walked down the stairs, probably drawn by the screaming, to see Danny shoving half of the Ghost Catcher through the portal sans-strings.  

“Uh,” said Danny.  

“Get that ghost, Jazzy-pants!”

Danny vanished and fled upstairs.  

.

Jazz had seen many strange things in her life, but that scene was one of the weirder ones.  

It took some time to untie her parents, longer to extract herself from the ensuing rant and their attempt to salvage their equipment from Danny’s all-too-explicable rampage.  Honestly, she was surprised Danny hadn’t snapped earlier.  

She opened the door to his room.  It was empty.  She squinted. He was not just leaving her hanging like that, with no context to what happened other than their parents’ ranting.  She opened her door.  

Danny was lying on his side on the middle of her rag rug, hugging Bearbert Einstein.  

“A ghost told me I was king and that I needed a priest.”

Oh boy.  

[husbandomail-archive]

May I ask for a friendship headcanon of Marduck from Bakugan and Fem! Reader? Bonus if you include Vladitor and Leonidas. I really loved that game.

anon I have five different drafts for this piece and they all lead in this direction no matter what I tried so I hope this is okay!

He has trouble looking at you now.

It’s definitely difficult at first— there, after the final battle, Marduk had willingly taken your hand. You’d left the Doom Dimension together, although you’d been the only ones. And for a day or two, he’d responded to you well as you both emotionally recovered from the whole ordeal—

But now, just a few days later, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. The change happened overnight; the quiet, timid boy in front of you is a far cry from the young man who’d dragged you to the very ends of the world. The other Battle Brawlers notice it too; Dan, ever the hero, does his best to involve the two of you with the group’s plans. But when Marduk begins turning every invitation down, or leaving early without saying much, you find it hard to hang around too.

Another day, another meet-up, powered by Marucho’s family money. The Brawlers have met in the park where your adventures first began— Julie is pitching a baseball in the same way she throws Gorem, and Dan swings the bat wildly, almost clipping Shun across the shoulders. When one boy begins shouting at the other, Runo is quick to swoop in and yell louder— and Marduk, perched on the edge of the fountain, is silent.

You take a seat next to him, the chill of the stone fountain managing to work its way through the fabric of your clothing. Marduk dips his hand into the water and traces patterns.

“This is where I met Leonidas, y’know.” He notably stiffens as you speak, although you’re not sure if it’s because of your voice or the things you have to say. Then he resumes his hypnotic movements, and you continue talking. “I don’t think you ever told us— how did you and Vladitor meet?”

He doesn’t wear his strange half-mask anymore, so it’s easy to see the pain that flashes across his face as you prod at his memories. Instead of answering you properly, Marduk smiles at your reflection in the water and draws himself to his feet. “I think I’ll go now.”

He got away from you that day. After Marduk went home, you said goodbye to the Brawlers too.

A few days later— most of your calls ignored, although he’d eventually respond to your texts— you find yourself on Marduk’s doorstep. It had been a pain to find— he’d never really told you anything about himself. Your timing is impeccable, though, and as you build up your courage to knock, the door swings open.

Surprised, you both step back to stare at each other. He’s got his coat and shoes on, so clearly he’s about to go somewhere; he smiles weakly and steps forward, shutting the door behind him. He greets you quietly, and you parrot his words. Marduk shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, more to himself than anything else. “I was going for a walk, if you wanted to come along?”

The street is oddly quiet for this time of day as the two of you walk along, the sound of your footsteps on the pavement filling the tense air between you both. You’d had things to say to him, but he feels fragile; it was a surprise he’d even invited you along, and you weren’t going to shatter that.

Marduk tosses his head back and stares at the sky. “I didn’t think it was fair that it happened to me.” 

When he doesn’t continue right away, you hum to let him know you’d heard him, and it seems that’s what he was waiting for. He speaks again. “I had a different Bakugan partner before Vladitor. I had friends, too— but then,” his voice trails off for a moment. His eyes vaguely search the sidewalk in front of him, as if the cracks in the pavement hold the answers to all his questions. Then he shrugs and says again, “I didn’t think it was fair that it happened to me. So i thought that if it happened to other people—”

Marduk stops on the sidewalk, and you halt a few steps in front of him. He’s staring hard at you but doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. You think you get it, though.

“You don’t think this is fair either, do you?” He winces, and you know you’ve hit the mark. You step closer. “Marduk, if we thought you were unforgivable, we wouldn’t be trying so hard to reach you.”

Suddenly he seems to think his shoes are the most interesting thing in the world. He shrugs again. “Maybe that’s how you all feel, but after all this, it’s not fair that I’d be forgiven so easily—”

In one motion, you lunge forward and snatch his hand from where it’s buried in his pocket, clenching it tightly in your own hands, so tightly that he has to look at you. “Life isn’t fair, Marduk.”