#current fronting contingent

[letoasai]

The Youngest Ancient

An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 

We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 

Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 

~~

They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 

Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 

“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 

Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 

“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 

“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 

“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 

“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”

“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 

“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 

Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 

“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.

Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 

“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 

“Forty minutes then.” 

~

The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 

When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 

He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 

“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.

“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 

“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 

“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.

Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 

“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 

“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 

“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”

Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 

Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 

No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 

“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 

He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 

He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 

The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 

When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 

“Phantom…?” 

Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 

“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖̙ ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”

To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 

“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 

Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 

“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 

“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 

~

In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 

Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 

Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”

“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 

“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 

“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 

“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 

Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”

Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 

“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 

“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 

“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 

It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 

Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 

“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 

“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 

“Will he?” The Flash stared. 

Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 

He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 

This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 

Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 

Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. “You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 

Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 

The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 

Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 

“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 

Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 

Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 

Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 

“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 

Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 

Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 

“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 

“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 

“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 

No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 

“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 

“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 

“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 

“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 

“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 

“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 

“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 

“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 

Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 

The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 

“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 

~~

I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 

I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 

Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^

Master List

[avelera]

Brief US politics aside, but I feel like the recent events like the Trump assassination attempt and calls by rank and file Democrats to replace Biden with a younger candidate(whether or not it happens) really prove my point that everything in life goes “according to plan” up until it doesn’t.

Earlier this year, I would frequently point out to people in my life that history shows us that treating a Trump/Biden race in November as an inevitability is, historically speaking, short sighted.

Both of these men are elderly. Trump has had Covid and doesn’t keep in good physical shape and, like Biden, he is simply old. The deaths of either of these men, were they common citizens, would not be considered all that tragic at their current age. They’re both at a perfectly respectable age to live to to be considered as having lived a full life.

And I was dismissed! I was told it was foolish (admittedly during the primary) to think anyone but Trump/Biden could possibly be the candidates in November. And I understood the point, as both were the uncontested front runners of their parties, both incumbents in their own rights, there was no question who would emerge from the primary as the candidates.

But these current discussions, these current events I think are an excellent reminder that history happens while everyone is making other plans. Absolutely nothing is guaranteed. And if the powers that be are smart they’re making contingency plans for every possible outcome because truly, nothing in this life guaranteed.

[gummybearstastelikesadness]

By being a ghost Danny’s form changes to match the dimension he’s currently in.

Sure it was a little difficult at first adjusting to experiencing the things in the 3rd dimension and occasionally the 1st or 4th, but he got the hang of it. There was just one little snag with the form shifting. His true form was a 2nd dimension body, so being summoned or forced into his true form in non 2nd dimensions made things very… awkward.

Young Justice didn’t know how to explain the “who framed Roger Rabbit” situation they were in, because they were pretty sure the cartoon cardboard standee in front of them was not some world destroying eldritch monster like the cult that they were supposed to stop promised to summon. At least they hoped they weren’t.

Completely unrelated, Robin definitely has contingencies for 2 dimensional creatures. Right?

[asdfghjklmals]

SEALED & DELIVERED✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and NO comfort. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. established couple. adoptedkiddo! megumi x fem guardian!oc.

SYNOPSIS: after satoru gets sealed in the prison realm, megumi realizes that he has to be the one to tell oc gojo girlfriend the bad news—includes child megumi flashback story. AUTHOR'S NOTE: the awkward moment where this doesn't end with fluff... this fic just focuses on satoru getting sealed and megumi's relationship with oc gojo girlfriend. sorry about the ending. i was starting to word vomit and run out of ideas. there will definitely be a continuation about the 19 days satoru was sealed away though. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, please do!

intro

"sweetheart, we need to talk."

you looked up from your pile of paperwork while satoru sat down in the chair in front of you. he planted his elbows on your glass desk and leaned over, a troubled look on his handsome face. you could tell from behind his black blindfold that something was really bothering him.

"what did i do, gojo-sensei? am i in trouble?" you teased.

the white haired sorcerer dramatically clutched at his chest, "you know i love it when you call me that. don't distract me."

"yes, i know babe." you giggled, "what's wrong? what's going on in that big, beautiful head of yours?"

satoru pouted at you, he was going to say 'my head isn't big!' like he always did, but he decided to save that bickering for later.

"with sukuna's vessel showing up... i just don't have a good feeling about all the things going on." satoru explained, "so... i want to create some contingency plans if anything were to happen to me."

you frowned at the statement 'if anything were to happen to me'. you didn't even want to think of a possibility of anything happening to the love of your life.

"—and why would anything to happen to my man?"

satoru leaned back into the leather chair and crossed his legs, ignoring your question. "you have to promise me that you'll tell megumi about his father. the zen'nin clan will make megumi the head if i'm deemed mentally incapacitated or if i die. some deal his dad had with naobito, i guess.”

you shut your eyes and slammed your silver pen on top of the stack of paperwork you were filling out, "fine... i promise, but none of that is going to happ—"

"i'm not finished, sweetheart." satoru interrupted, "i need you to get yuta back to japan as soon as possible."

yuta was currently training in africa with miguel. satoru always mentioned how strong yuta was becoming after each visit and how the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers could rival himself. you and satoru depended on yuta quite a bit nowadays. (read ‘the cursed child: yuta okkotsu’ here)

you glared at your blue eyed lover sitting across from you, "anything else, mr. gojo?"

"can you promise to wait for me to come home if anything happens?" satoru asked with earnesty. it almost sounded like he was begging you.

present time: oc gojo girlfriend’s office

“you’re going to be late if you want to meet everyone at shibuya station on time.” you patted satoru on the chest, pushing him away from you.

“—just one more kiss.” he begged.

satoru was so needy tonight. you thought to yourself, 'what was up with him?'

you kissed him again, but he refused to let go of your body. he held you tightly. you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, “you have that look on your face.”

“i just have a bad feeling about tonight.” he mumbled to himself. you wished you could read what was going on in that crazy mind of his.

your heart dropped, frowning at his eery statement. “promise me you’ll be careful?”

“i’m always careful.” satoru stated confidently.

now that someone he loved was waiting for him to come home, he always took into consideration his safety so that he could make it back to you unscathed. he knew you would never forgive him if anything happened to him and if he left you alone. he promised to protect you. (read ‘the honored one’ here)

you held out your pinky as satoru intertwined his with yours. instead of kissing his thumb to seal the deal, he leaned over to kiss you again fervently, muffling whatever you were about to say.

you groaned once his lips left yours, whispering breathlessly, “do you really have to go?”

“i’m the strongest… so yeah.” he sighed, “remember, if anything happens to me, you have take care of my students.”

“can you not say stuff like that?” you hit his chest as he continued to hold you. “why are you talking like you aren’t going to be coming back home to me?”

“i’m just saying, babe.” satoru sighed again as he booped you on your nose, “you have to be strong for me.”

but what if you didn’t want to be strong? what if you selfishly didn’t want satoru to go to shibuya? what if something happens to him and he doesn’t come home to you? what if he leaves you all alone?

satoru finally let go of you as you stood in the middle of your office at jujutsu high. you shook your head to steer away your selfish thoughts.

“i love you, satoru,” you called out to him before he turned to leave your office, “remember your promise.”

he gave you his signature grin before sneaking back over to you to give you one last kiss. “i know. i’ll remember. i love you, (y/n). remember your promises too.”

"yuta is on his way home..." you reported, "and i'll tell megumi about his father."

satoru frowned at you, "you're forgetting something else."

"—and yes, i'll wait for you to come home." you stated confidently.

for better or for worse, right? it’s been 10 years that you and satoru have been together. you were pretty sure you were a patient person. you could wait for him forever if that’s what it took.

"that's my girl." satoru smirked at you before leaving your office, clasping his hands to teleport to shibuya.

***************************

october 31st. shibuya. 8:31pm. satoru gojo arrives.

“good night, satoru gojo. let us meet again in the new world.” kenjaku said smugly. he had just sealed the world’s strongest sorcerer, adamant that nothing would get in his way now.

satoru scoffed at the ridiculous sight in front of him, “yeah, maybe it’s good night for me, but you need to wake up, suguru. how are you gonna let yourself get used like that?”

kenjaku felt resistance in the body that he took over. hands that belonged to the body of suguru geto attempted to grab his throat.

he laughed in amusement, “well, this is the first time that has happened.”

he suppressed that very resistance with his cursed energy again.

satoru watched and reluctantly listened as kenjaku and mahito had a conversation discussing souls and techniques. he was getting impatient.

“can you just get this over with?” satoru grumbled, “you two aren’t the most pleasing things to look at. i definitely didn't want you two being the last thing i see before getting taken by my own will.”

kenjaku laughed at the sorcerer who was on his knees, arms shackled behind his back, unable to do anything to free himself from the hold of the prison realm. he looked so weak.

“i think i’m enjoying this view, but you’re right. i can’t risk anything happening, so goodnight.” he took one last look at satoru and smirked.

“close gate.”

“we can’t use the prison realm anymore right?” mahito asked curiously.

kenjaku nodded his head, “right. unless the person who's trapped takes their own life inside the prison realm, we can only use it on one occupant at a time.”

inside the prison realm, satoru kissed his the back of his teeth, annoyed but somewhat impressed by this cursed object. “looks like time doesn’t pass here.”

he sat on top of a pile of skeleton heads, repeatedly flicking his blindfold off of his forehead, “damn it. i really messed up this time… (y/n)’s gonna kill me after i promised her i’d be careful.” satoru muttered with a grim smile.

“it’ll be okay. i have faith in everyone...”

***************************

“satoru gojo has been sealed.” nanami announced grimly.

megumi looked at the 7:3 sorcerer in disbelief. “sealed? what do you mean sealed?”

“change of plans,” nanami said as he started walking towards shibuya station, “we need to meet up with itadori. if the sealing is true, it’s over for us. we don’t stand a chance without gojo.”

megumi felt as if his world was spiraling. how could his all-knowing, crazy strong sensei get sealed? did (y/n)-sensei know about gojo-sensei’s sealing? no, (y/n)-sensei couldn’t have known. (y/n)-sensei was probably with shoko at the relief area since you two could heal injured sorcerers.

megumi knew that the school didn’t like to use you offensively because of the damage you could inflict on the city with your cursed technique. no one wanted to fill out that damages report. instead, you were their trump card, their last resort. gojo-sensei was usually the go-to special grade sorcerer if the school ever needed something to be taken care of swiftly.

“i have to tell (y/n)-sensei.” megumi mumbled out loud.

nanami pursed his lips, “if you tell her, there’s no telling what she’ll do. if she finds out that gojo was sealed, she might flood all of shibuya.”

“but she deserves to know.”

megumi took out his cell phone. his fingers were trembling as he sifted through his contacts to find your name. his heart was racing at the thought of having to tell you bad news. he hated disappointing you and he definitely didn't want to worry you. but if it had anything to do with gojo-sensei, you had to know.

this moment reminded him of the time he called you from the principal’s office when he got in trouble for fighting at school.

flashback

'i am so grounded,' 7 year old megumi fushiguro thought to himself, '(y/n) is going to take away my new books for sure. maybe i should call gojo-sensei instead.'

you were the maternal figure in megumi’s life since you and gojo-sensei had taken him and tsumiki in. gojo-sensei let you make all the important decisions regarding the kids. you were the one that always had to have the disciplinary conversations with the two fushiguros. gojo-sensei didn’t like to play the bad guy, he was the type to sneak treats to him and tsumiki after you scolded them.

“well, megumi. are you going to call (y/n) or satoru?” the vice principal of the school, mrs. akita asked him.

megumi sighed, “i guess i’ll call (y/n)…”

he knew that if he called gojo-sensei, the blindfolded idiot would just tell you what happened anyways and he would still end up having to tell you what he did himself. so he might as well spare himself the hard conversation later.

he grabbed the phone from mrs. akita’s desk and took a deep breath before dialing your phone number. his heart was racing. he knew he was going to disappoint you, and he hated that feeling.

you picked up the phone, your bright laughter gave megumi the shivers, “hello?”

“uh—(y/n)?”

your tone immediately became serious, “megumi, are you okay?”

"uh, yeah. i'm okay. i got in trouble at school today." he admitted. he closed his eyes, waiting for you to start lecturing him.

he could hear that you were walking with someone. you were probably on a mission.

"what?! megumi... what happened?" you asked, concern in your tone.

"i, uh, got in a fight. mrs. akita said that i'm getting suspended for two days." he made eye contact with the vice principal in front of him as she sat with her arms folded. this was not megumi's first rodeo.

"megumi... we had this conversation about fighting at school..." you sighed.

yes, you were disappointed, but megumi was your baby. how could you stay mad at the cute little 7 year old boy with the same green eyes as you?

"i know, i'm sorry, (y/n)."

"i'm sorry, megumi. i can't come pick you up today because i'm on a mission. satoru will be there soon, okay?" you felt guilty. you knew the last person he wanted to see was satoru after getting suspended. satoru would never let him live it down.

"okay. i'll wait for gojo-sens—wait, can you send nanami to pick me up instead?"

you laughed at his question, "nanami is actually on a mission with me right now.. sorry kiddo. i'll see you at home later, okay?"

megumi grumbled, "okay..."

megumi hung up the phone and turned around to sit back in the office chair. mrs. akita was filling out the paperwork on his suspension.

***************************

once you hung up the phone, you sighed and turned to nanami. "sorry, nanami. megumi got in trouble at school today."

the 7:3 sorcerer stopped walking and turned to you, your troubled face concerned him, "do you need to call gojo?"

"yeah, he needs to pick up megumi from school. he got suspended for fighting." you groaned.

"being a mother must be hard." nanami teased as he patted your back in reassurance.

you laughed, "having a boy is hard. tsumiki is an angel. god forbid my future children have megumi's temperament."

"you better hope your future child isn't satoru's mini-me." nanami teased.

you grinned at him and joked lightly, "who says i'm having more kids with satoru? he already gave me two to take care of."

you and nanami knew that satoru would pout all day if he heard that joke. you giggled before dialing satoru's phone number as you both took a quick break on a park bench.

"hey babe, you okay? do i need to come help?" satoru asked as he picked up your phone call on the first ring. he never let you go to voicemail in your 2 years of dating.

"no, satoru. we're fine. but i need you to pick megumi up from school. he got suspended today."

"you don't say?" satoru laughed out loud in amusement, "alright, i'll go grab the kiddo."

"i'll be home later. and don't you dare reward him with something sweet on the way home."

satoru was appalled that you would even think he was going to pick up megumi and grab ice cream on the way back. however, you already knew he was thinking about it.

"so feisty." satoru chuckled, "we'll see you at home later then, sweetheart."

***************************

satoru teleported into the front office of the elementary school. mrs. akita opened the door to her office and brought the white haired sorcerer into the room while megumi waited outside. satoru sat down on the leather seat as mrs. akita sighed.

"satoru, megumi has been getting into a lot of fights lately. is everything okay at home?"

"(y/n) and i have been talking to him about not fighting at school..." satoru started, "but he always has a good reason for fighting, so we couldn't exactly reprimand him. what happened today anyways?"

"megumi got in a scuffle with a group of bullies. there are a couple troublemaker cliques in his grade and he beat up three of them." mrs. akita reported back to him, rubbing her temples. "they have extensive injuries, satoru."

satoru started laughing, impressed that megumi took on three school bullies by himself.

"—satoru, this is serious. their parents want him expelled."

"did megumi win?" satoru asked curiously, ignoring mrs. akita's last statement.

mrs. akita glared at him in annoyance, "clearly he won if the parents are wanting him expelled, satoru."

"then that's all that matters to me. that's my kid we're talking about here. end of discussion, akita." satoru said, standing up from his chair and waving off the conversation. “megumi will take the two-day suspension and we'll pay the fines. tell the other kids' parents we're sorry, yada yada yada.”

mrs. akita rolled her eyes, "you're lucky principal kinomoto and i love you and (y/n). no other school would put up with this behavior, satoru."

satoru winked at the vice principal and opened the door to look at megumi. he had a couple of scratches on his face, a bandaid on his cheek and left knee. megumi looked like he was going to burst into tears with the way he was frowning as pouting.

"alrighty, kiddo. let's head back to jujutsu high."

satoru gave megumi a piggy back ride while the child shoved his sniffling face into the back of satoru's uniform. satoru teleported back to jujutsu high as they walked through the school corridors together. he knew that he would have to have a conversation with megumi before you got back from your mission.

"you know you're going to have to tell (y/n) what happened, right?"

megumi glared at his guardian, "i don't want to." and in a matter of seconds, megumi started to burst into tears.

"you cryin', megumi? didn't you win the fight?" satoru asked.

megumi wiped his tears with his forearm, hiccuping, "y-yes."

"then why are you cryin'?"

"i'm scared to see (y/n)." he sheepishly admitted.

satoru started laughing. megumi could feel his laugh vibrating through his back as satoru carried him. he clutched his arms tighter around satoru's shoulders.

the sorcerer grinned, "you and me both, kiddo."

"...is she going to be mad at me? what if she doesn’t love me anymore?" megumi asked satoru full of worry. he knew that satoru knew you better than anyone else in this world.

satoru thought out loud, "hmmm, she'll probably be a little disappointed. but—she’ll always love you and she cares for you a ton. at the end of the day, you’re her baby."

megumi's eyes continued to water as his grip on satoru's uniform tightened. the closer they got to the dining hall, the more nervous the child got.

"looks like you're in luck, kiddo. (y/n) isn't back from her mission yet." satoru sighed in relief, "let's go see shoko and get you all healed up."

***************************

"oh my..." shoko gasped, "what happened to you, megumi?!"

megumi looked at satoru and then back at the ground. he was too embarrassed to tell shoko what had happened at school.

"he just got in a little tussle at school." satoru told his bestfriend, waving it off.

shoko started laughing, "sounds like you when you were younger, gojo."

"yeah, but i wouldn't have gotten beat up." satoru grinned at the doctor, "i was untouchable."

the brunette rolled her eyes at him, "you're so full of yourself."

satoru scoffed and put megumi down on the exam table. "can you just make sure he's okay before my girlfriend sees his scratches and yells at me?"

shoko nodded. she healed up megumi's minor cuts and bruises so that it looked like nothing ever happened.

***************************

you and nanami were walking through the school's courtyard after your mission today. the mission ended up running later than usual.

"sorry that mission took so long," nanami mumbled. “i know you were worried about megumi.”

"it's okay, nanami. satoru’s with him." you high-fived him, "good job tonight."

as you continued the walk through the courtyard, you saw satoru leaning against the entrance to the school building with his arms folded. he cleared his throat.

"your jealously is showing, satoru." you grinned at your boyfriend.

"me?" satoru called out to you, baffled, pointing at nanami, "jealous of him?"

satoru laughed as nanami rolled his eyes at him. "megumi has been waiting for you, babe."

"what?" you asked in disbelief, "it's past his bedtime. it's almost 10pm. satoru, you're supposed to make sure the kids go to bed on time."

"he wouldn't go back to the apartment, he won't go to sleep without talking to you." satoru grinned thinking about megumi’s tenacity.

satoru walked with you back to the dining hall, holding your bag in one hand and your hand in the other.

"i'll wait in the hallway. go talk to megumi." satoru said as he blew you kiss. you caught his air kiss and threw it on the floor, making him laugh out loud. your feisty personality was one of his favorite things about you.

you entered the dining hall. megumi looked up at you with sad eyes. you sat down in front of the child.

"hey, megumi." you greetled him softly, he was quiet and a little awkward. it looked like you were going to have to break the ice. you started the conversation with the 7 year old, "so, wanna tell me what happened at school today?"

"the kids i beat up were talking about you and gojo-sensei." megumi muttered. he folded his arms, angry at the thought of those bullies and what they had said about the two guardians he cared so much about.

"well... what were they saying about us that made you so upset you had to go and beat them up?"

megumi quietly told you what happened, "they kept saying that you and gojo-sensei weren't mine and tsumiki's real parents and that we don’t look like you two. it made tsumiki cry."

your heart shattered. kids were so mean nowadays. you admit that megumi and tsumiki's situation was unique, yes, but the fact that kids bullied each other about their parents was cruel. you never wanted the kids to feel bad about their situation.

you scoffed, "how can i be mad at the fact that you were defending mine and satoru’s honor?" you ruffled megumi's hair, "why were you so scared to tell me that?"

"because i keep getting in trouble for fighting." megumi frowned, disappointed in himself.

"megumi, i want you to be able to tell me anything. i don't want you to keep things bottled up."

"—but what if you don't love me anymore after i tell you the bad things?" megumi asked quietly.

you were shocked that a 7 year old could have such thoughts. how could he think that you wouldn’t love him anymore? megumi and tsumiki were the center of your world since satoru swiped them off the streets and brought them home to you. (read 'learn to love' here)

you asked megumi a question, "how many times a day do i tell you and tsumiki that i love you two?"

"you tell us every morning before we go to school and before we go to bed. and sometimes randomly throughout the day." megumi smiled at the mental reminder.

"—just because you get into fights at school doesn't mean that i'll love you any less. if anything, i worry about you getting hurt." you lectured him, "now, if you grow up to be a horrible curse user, we might have a problem."

"does that mean you're not mad at me?" megumi asked quietly.

"i am a little disappointed," you sighed, "—but i don't love you any less."

you reached out to him for a hug. the boy jumped into your arms. you squeezed him tightly, rocking him back and forth. "now tell me... did satoru buy you ice cream after school?"

megumi froze, his eyes widened. him and gojo-sensei were caught red-handed.

"uh huh... got it." you laughed. you were going to have a word with satoru later tonight.

end flashback

the dial tone was echoing through megumi's ears as he waited for you to pick up. he felt a lump in his throat, his heart was racing, just like back then when he was 7 years old, but this took the cake for the hardest conversation he's ever had to have with you. he would rather tell you that he broke the glass coffee table in the living room trying to summon max elephant a hundred times over again.

"megumi, are you okay?" you answered, "do you need me to—"

"i'm fine, (y/n). it's gojo-sensei."

your felt sick to your stomach. it was in that moment that you knew something had happened to satoru.

"what happened to him?"

"he was sealed." megumi said grimly.

you furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding what megumi was saying, "what do you mean sealed?"

"i—i don't know all the specifics." megumi stuttered through the receiver, "—but i'm going to find out. i'll save gojo-sensei, (y/n). i promise you. so don’t worry and… don’t be mad at him."

"megumi, wait..." you said, voice barely coming out as a whisper. you heard the younger sorcerer disconnect from the other line.

you felt a lump in your throat as you fought back tears. you had to be strong for the students... and for satoru. you felt this immense pain and anger in your chest. if satoru was sealed, that meant he was still alive. there was a sliver of hope that you would see him again. satoru had to be okay... right?

"(y/n)!" shoko yelled out your name, "you're going to flood all my medical supplies!"

you snapped out of your thoughts and looked around the area. water was starting to flood the ground, surrounding the both of your feet.

"what did megumi say to upset you that much?!" shoko asked, "i haven't seen you do that since high school!"

"satoru was sealed, shoko. and i don't know what that means!" you yelled in frustration, throwing your ice shards against the concrete wall.

the street lamps started to flicker as ice started to form around the streets, fire hydrants started to explode due to high water pressure, water started to fill the streets of shibuya. your cursed energy was starting to become uncontrollable.

you wondered how megumi was feeling at this moment and how horrible he must have felt telling you that satoru was sealed. it couldn't have been easy for him, nor could it be easy for the rest of the jujutsu sorcerers and satoru’s students knowing that the strongest was sealed away. the team morale was probably destroyed.

shoko distracted you out of your thoughts again, "you should go to shibuya. the students need you. you're second in command if anything happens to gojo."

you looked at shoko with determination in your eyes, she nodded at you as you made your way out the door to head straight for shibuya station.

the students needed you right now more than ever since satoru was gone. they needed the support from you, the support that you always gave to them no matter what the situation was. you were their go-to person for comfort. whether they got a bad grade on their mission, if they lost a spar, or when they needed an ear to listen to them, you were there.

you thought back to the conversation that you and satoru had. promise number one would have to wait. promise number two was on a flight back to japan and would be landing in a couple hours. promise number three...

'don't worry, satoru.' you thought to yourself, 'i'll wait for you to come home. i don't care how long it takes. we'll find a way to get you back.'

little did you know, the nineteen days that satoru gojo was sealed away was the most excruciating pain you've ever experienced in your life, not even an injury from a curse could compare.

it was as if something was missing from your life and you never wanted to experience the pain of losing someone so important to you ever again.

© 2024 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[disillusioneddanny]

Tim watched with an amused smile as Danny stomped around their apartment, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He had made an agreement with Bruce and was now spending a week going on patrol with the Bats of Gotham and the halfa was not happy about it. In Tim’s opinion, though, Danny should have known better than to make an agreement with the Batman of all people.

It didn’t make it any less funny watching his boyfriend pout and mope about the fact that he was going to be coming out of retirement for a week.

“Do I absolutely have to do this?” Danny asked with a sigh as he flopped onto the couch that Tim was currently lying on, his head now pillowed in the vigilante’s lap as he stared up at him with the most adorable pout on his lips. It was taking everything in Tim’s power to not kiss those beautiful pink lips. How the hell did he get so lucky to have such a beautiful boyfriend?

“Yes,” Tim murmured, brushing his fingers through Danny’s hair. “You made an agreement and if you don’t, Bruce isn’t going to give you his blessing to marry me and you know, I kinda want that.”

Danny let out a loud groan, rubbing his hands against his face. “Why does his opinion have to matter so much?” he bemoaned, rubbing at his eyes.

Tim let out a hum. “I mean if we really want to get into it, it’s probably because I spent most of my adolescence trying to get the approval of Jack and Janet and then Batman and while I never got it with my biological parents, I eventually got it with my adoptive father. And now I just have an unhealthy desire to constantly have his approval,” he said with a cheeky smile.

Danny let out a huff. “I hate you,” he said. Tim smiled, leaned down and gave him a soft kiss

“You love me and you want to marry me,” Tim sang, combing his fingers through Danny’s hair lightly. “Now, are you going to go out as Phantom or do you want to go out as something else?”

Danny let out a huff of a sigh. “Phantom, I’m not subjecting myself to being a fucking bat or a bird,” he said with a grumble.

Tim just gave him a small grin. “If you say so, Boo,” he said before kissing Danny once more. “Have I mentioned how much I love you and how excited I am to go on patrols with you for a week?”

Danny let out a grunt and buried his face in Tim’s stomach as he continued to comb through the halfa’s hair. Danny had gone to Bruce to ask for his blessing in marrying Tim and Bruce had said he would only agree on the contingent that Danny had to prove that he could handle the life of being married to a vigilante. And not only that but Tim could rely on him if he was ever in trouble. Tim was pretty sure there was a comment or two about the vigilante being a trouble magnet and needing to be bailed out of situations. Tim was also pretty certain that Bruce was worried that Ra’s would find out about Tim getting married and get extremely pissed off. Which was… fair.

Danny would probably have to fight off the Demon’s head for Tim’s hand in marriage and if he spent a week on patrols in Gotham it would likely make Bruce feel a little better about siccing Danny to the wolves.

So far, Ra’s hadn’t done anything about the fact that Tim was in a relationship but he had a feeling that would change as soon as he learned about the marriage.

Eventually, the sun set, and the couple made their way down to the basement of the building where Tim shoved his boyfriend into the Nest.

“Alright, I’m almost ready so you know, change forms whenever,” Tim said as he pulled on one of his boots. Danny let out a huff and a bright ring of light wrapped around the halfa. Once Tim blinked the spots out of his vision, he smiled at the man in front of him.

Danny was beautiful when he was in his Phantom form. His white hair floated around his head in a beautiful halo, and his green eyes seemed to shine like the brightest of stars. He was magnificent and he was all Tim’s.

“I’m so excited,” Tim said, pulling his bot all the way on and tying the laces. Danny just gave him a less-than-impressed look as he crossed his arms. He watched Tim as the vigilante made his way towards his bike before he clicked his tongue.

“Nope, not using that tonight, Timmers,” he said with a small smile. Tim scowled and turned to face the man.

“One, don’t call me that. Two, what do you mean not tonight? I always use my bike on patrols,” Tim said with a sigh, he rested one hand on his hip as he looked over his boyfriend. “You’re not trying to get out of this, are you?”

Danny just gave him a shit-eating grin. “Because we’re not going to drive or grapple to do your patrols, Birdie. We’re going to fly,” he said before waving his hand. Tim felt himself get shoved into Danny’s arms before the halfa turned them both intangible and flew straight out of the nest and building.

“Phantom!” He screeched, holding onto Danny’s middle for dear life as Danny soared through the skies. “You have to at least warn me before you do this! I keep telling you that, you asshole!”

Phantom just let out a soft chuckle and spun them around in the air, his arm wrapped solidly around Tim’s waist. “Sorry, sorry,” he said before he pressed a kiss to Tim’s cheek. “Now, where does your patrol route start?” he asked.

Tim just heaved out a sigh before he pointed Danny in the right direction before he patched into the comms.

“Finally! We’ve got the wonder duo with us!” Nightwing cheered. “How’s the night looking for you two?”

“We literally just started,” Red Robin said with a laugh. “Phantom, what do you hear?”

Danny let out a hum. “Mugging three streets away,” he said before he started flying in that direction.

“This is amazing,” Tim swooned as Danny landed in front of the mugger and immediately hopped into action, leaving Tim to simply watch his boyfriend take the guy down with relative ease. “He’s so hot like this, B, I think I owe you one. I mean getting to see Phantom in action? Amazing. He just took down a guy three times his size with his fists. I mean he’s not even using his powers. Oh my Ancients, now he’s comforting the victim. How is he so perfect? I might have to force him out of retirement permanently.”

“What have you done?” Red Hood hissed through the comms. “We’re going to be stuck listening to the Replacement simp over Phantom for the rest of the night and it’s your fault B.”

“I am starting to realize that now,” Batman said with a forlorn sigh. “I highly doubt that they will do this all night.”

Tim just let out a happy sigh as Phantom came over and took his hand before they started to fly together once more. This was actually heaven on earth if Tim was going to be completely honest. He smiled over at his boyfriend and future husband as they soared through the skies, Danny using his powers to keep an ear out for any possible crimes or issues on their patrol route.

“You know, this is so much different from when I was a vigilante in Amity Park,” Danny said as they landed on the top of Wayne Enterprises and looked out over the city that Tim loved so dearly. “In Amity, I was scared constantly, I had ghosts that I thought were trying to destroy me, parents who were trying to catch me and experiment on me, and the people in the town pretty much hated me. Hell, there was a whole ass hero who was dedicated to hunting me down. I felt like a villain more often than a hero,” he said with a soft sigh as he looked out over the city. Tim squeezed his hand lightly as Danny gave him a small, haunted smile.

“It’s different here,” Tim said softly, asking a question but also stating a fact.

The halfa hummed in agreement. “It is,” he said, the green in his eyes shimmered and glistened, glowing in a way that eyes didn’t naturally do. “People have been thanking me when I save them. They aren’t scared of me, they don’t run away. It’s so different.”

“I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for you, Phantom,” Tim said softly. “I’m sorry it was such a bad experience. I don’t fully understand but I do get it in a sense. There’s been times where it just feels like the most thankless job in the world.”

Danny nodded. “It does,” he murmured. “I don’t think I want to patrol every single night like you do. But I don’t think I’d mind helping out if things get bad. Like an Arkham breakout or if there’s a big mission that you all need my expertise,” he said, giving Tim a wry grin. “Maybe we can get an Arkham breakout during my week on patrols and I can really prove to Batman that I can handle myself. Or, maybe Ra’s can come and attack me or something and I can prove to him that way.”

Tim let out a laugh and wrapped his arm around Danny’s waist. “Please don’t jinx us,” he said, pressing a kiss to Danny’s cheek.

“I’ll try my best,” Danny said with a chuckle.

“Red Robin, Phantom, there’s some movement around one of the Joker’s old bases, I need you two to check it out for me. I don’t know if we’re gearing up towards another breakout and they’re preparing for their boss or what. But I’d like to be as ahead of it as possible.”

“On it Oracle!” Phantom said before he gave Tim one more deep, loving kiss before the two took off in the sky to go see what was going on.

————

Bruce Wayne stared down the man that his son, his baby boy had been dating for the last handful of years, his arms crossed tight over his chest.

“I did what you asked, Bruce!” Danny said petulantly as he stood across from him, his arms crossed over his chest in a mirror to Bruce’s. “I fought the Joker and I didn’t even kill him like Jason asked me to. I think I proved that I can hold my own against Tim’s enemies and I’ve been proving the last few years that I can take care of him. So, can I please marry your son?”

The World’s Greatest Detective gave him a steely look. To his right, Dick let out a soft chuckle.

“You do realize that Tim’s his favorite right?” Dick asked, shaking his head. “He’s not going to just let anyone marry his sweet little Timmy.”

“Hn,” Bruce said in response. He was not going to confirm or deny that Tim was in fact his favorite child. It would only start arguments between the rest of his children. Besides, Dick was correct in his assumptions. Tim was, indeed, Bruce’s favorite child. And he needed to be absolutely sure that Danny truly was worthy of his son’s hand in marriage.

Danny simply let out a groan. “What else do I have to do to prove myself!” He whined, stomping his foot in frustration. “Because I’ll fight Batman himself if it means I get to marry Tim.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Bruce said with a smug smirk.

“Bruce!” Tim exclaimed. “Will you please quit being mean to my boyfriend and just give him your blessing?”

Bruce made a face and looked between the two men before he let out a sigh. “I suppose. Danny, I give you my blessing, you can marry Tim.”

Danny’s shoulders drooped in relief. “Thank the ancients, I didn’t think Tim would appreciate me beating up his dad,” he said before he wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulders and kissed the top of Tim’s head softly.

Tim just let out a soft laugh. “He’s right, B, he would eviscerate you,” he said with a snort.

Bruce simply scowled at the couple. “I’m going to the cave,” he grumbled before stomping away. He couldn’t believe this, his precious little boy was getting married. To a boy who could fly.

Because it was always the metas, every damn time.

[johnwaynegayscene]

im a broke-ass trans chick in desperate need of 175 dollars for the immediate out of pocketses cost with a lawyer to fight a former boss who's currently stealing over 2 grand from me and breaking myriad labor laws while flagrantly mocking me for trying to fight it, as well as other aspects that have taken it to a civil rights case. lucky for me she's the perfect mix of arrogant and stupid enough to have given me mountains of screenshots of her detailing her illegal business practices and it's a slam dunk of a case once i can get it in front of the right legal people, and the lawyer will be taking contingency after this initial cost but im beyond broke from having all my wages stolen. anything can help, sharing or giving or anything, and you'll be directly supporting the scorching of the earth beneath her corrupt and thieving business

🖤🖤🖤

if you can help with anything, my v.3n^^o and (@$ĥ@pp are both punkyrooster, and literally anything will help me take her down

🖤🖤🖤

[theostrophywife]

kiss with a fist | chapter eight.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: people i don't like - upsahl

author's note: moving it along. can't believe that there's only five more chapters left. this series has been my baby so i'm like in shambles as the end comes closer, but also excited.

The night of the dinner was finally upon you and the amalgamation of dread, trepidation, and wrath clouded over you like a malevolent fog. You weren’t looking forward to it, but you knew that Theo was right. If sitting through one lousy dinner secured a spot with the M.E.S.P, then you would begrudgingly grin and bear it. 

Luckily, you wouldn’t have to face it alone. As Luna promised, Harry was waiting for you outside of Professor Slughorn’s office. Harry was dressed in a button down and a dark blazer paired with freshly pressed trousers. Despite his smart attire, his signature messy, black hair and slightly skewed glasses softened his appearance. 

Harry smiled, raising his hand in a slight wave. “Hi, Y/N. You look lovely.” 

You smoothed the front of your dress, which Pansy had helped you pick out. The fabric was sleek and silky and as dark as night. The front was simple, but the back dipped low and revealed more skin than you were used to. It was completely out of your comfort zone, but Pansy had insisted that you were meant to wear the dress.

“Thanks, Harry. So do you.” You stood up straighter, balancing on your impossibly tall heels—another Parkinson addition, before rolling your shoulders back. “Shall we?” 

The inside of Professor Slughorn’s office had been transformed into an entirely different space. Velvet curtains hung from the ceiling and covered the marble columns like tapestry. A round mahogany table sat in the middle of the room and sat upon it were fresh fruits, expensive cheese, and cold cuts. The plates were set in a circular formation and each one contained a placard with a different student’s name. 

You took your place, quietly settling in between Harry and a Hufflepuff girl—Melissa? No, Melinda. You remembered that her family owned a large chain of apothecaries. 

As you glanced around the table, you realized that while there were at least two or three members from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, there was only one Slytherin in the midst. You weren’t that familiar with Cassius Warrington, but you knew that he was currently being pursued by the Chudley Cannons, which was plenty of incentive for Slughorn to invite him into the mix. 

You were well aware that the presence of each student was contingent on the benefits they could help provide Slughorn and vice versa. After all, that was the purpose of the slug club, but facing it head on still made your stomach roil. You barely touched the filet mignon and scalloped potatoes for fear of retching it all back up. The conversations happening around you made it impossible to eat.

It was just endless prattling and bragging on and on about connections and achievements, much to Slughorn’s delight. The superficiality of it all made you nauseous. When McLaggen name dropped his influential uncle for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, you nearly pulled your hair out. You watched with a grimace as he lapped up his soup with tiny licks, sort of like a lizard toying with a fly. 

Out of instinct, you turned to your right to snicker with Theo only to remember that he wasn’t there, which put you in a foul mood all over again. 

“He does love to prattle on, doesn’t he?” Harry muttered in a low voice. 

You nodded. “I imagine he only speaks to hear the sound of his own voice.” 

“I take it that you’re enjoying this as much as I am.” 

“If by enjoying you mean considering pulling my eyelashes out one by one, then you would be correct, Potter.” 

“Forget the eyelashes. I might pluck my own eyes out all together if I hear McLaggen say my uncle Tiberius one more time.” 

You snorted. “If you’re as miserable as I am, then what are you doing here?” 

He shrugged. “People expect me to be here. To go on as normal. It’s important to have some semblance of that after last year, I suppose.” 

You nodded sympathetically. Everyone looked up to Harry. He was a hero, a practical living legend, the boy who lived not once but twice. You imagined carrying all of that pressure on his shoulders couldn’t have been easy. 

“What about you? You’re obviously not enjoying yourself, so why subject yourself to all of this?” 

“I want to become a potioneer after I graduate. Slughorn is an influential member of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, which means he’s my key to getting accepted so while this dinner is physically and mentally draining all of my energy, I don’t have much of a choice. Being the first muggleborn member of the society would be monumental. Not just for me, but for other witches in the future."

“I understand,” Harry said with a nod. “You know, Mione’s probably going to be the first muggleborn witch to become Minister of Magic.” 

You smiled. While you two weren’t close by any means, you have always admired Hermione. Her academic achievements were the cause of your envy for many years, but after all that she had gone through, you stopped feeling that stab of jealousy. 

“The wizarding world would be lucky to have Granger leading it,” you agreed. “Which reminds me, why isn’t she here tonight?” 

“She declined the invitation. As did Ron.” 

“I can’t blame them. I half expected you to do so as well. The three of you have done enough to last a lifetime.” 

“Yes, but like I said. It’s important for me to participate in these things. To boost morale, or so I’ve been told.” 

It was fascinating to you that Harry could joke about such things. If you had battled the darkest wizard of all time and lived to tell the tale, you would probably tell everyone to kindly fuck off forever, but you suppose that was the reason why Harry was the chosen one and not you. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re still fighting?” you asked. “Voldemort and his followers are either dead or imprisoned, yes. But we’re still rooting out their ideologies to this day and now there’s this new suspicion surrounding an entire house despite the fact the Death Eaters had members from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff too.” 

Harry nodded solemnly. “Everyone thinks that the war ended at the Battle of Hogwarts, but in reality, our work is barely beginning. The hardest part is healing. I’ll admit that sometimes it’s hard for me to separate the fact that Tom was a Slytherin with my own biases about the whole house itself, but unlearning all of those misconceptions is a process. It takes a lot to change a person’s perception. We can’t all be as smart and logical as you Ravenclaws.” 

“If only, right?” you said with a smile. 

“Well, we could always try it your way and threaten to push people off of the bleachers.” His green eyes crinkled with amusement. 

You groaned. “I can’t believe you heard about that.” 

“I must say, Ron and I had a proper laugh when we heard about it. He still hasn’t forgotten his stay in the hospital wing thanks to Romilda’s tainted chocolate cauldrons.” You grimaced, which made Harry chuckle. “I am sorry about what she said to Pansy though. We aren’t friends by any means, but I’d like to think that we’re at least on civil terms. Luna talks about her fondly and if Parkinson’s got your approval, then it’s safe to assume that she’s treating our friend well.” 

“She is,” you agreed. “They are nauseatingly perfect for each other.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. We all deserve a little happiness.” 

“Speaking of which, how’s Ginny doing?” 

The boy who lived blushed furiously. “She’s well. How’s Theo doing?” 

You smirked. “Touche, Potter. Touche.”

As the night droned on, you found excuses to visit the refreshment table just to get away from all the insufferable preening. While you fixed yourself a cup of tea, you sensed a presence to your right. Cassius surveyed the variety of teas on the table, but made no move to select any.

“Sorry, am I in your way?” 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I just needed an excuse to get up.” 

You chuckled. “Join the club, Warrington.” He smiled a little as you dropped a sugar cube into your cup. “Congratulations on the recruitment by the way. Your teammates won’t shut up about it.” 

Cassius scratched the back of his head, looking a bit shy. “Thanks, Y/N. Everything is still in the negotiation stage, but after the last game, I think my chances are looking good. The boys said you were there for the match.” 

“Yeah, I was. This might not mean much since I haven’t watched a game since fourth year, but you guys were great out there. It was bloody brutal. I had a blast.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. We do our best to put on a show,” he said. Warrington toyed with his saucer. He looked around before clearing his throat and lowering his voice. “Listen, Y/N. I heard about what you did for Pansy.”

“You and the rest of the school, apparently.” 

“I just wanted to say thanks for sticking up for her. Pansy—she—helped me out a lot after my father was imprisoned and I probably wasn’t the only one. Everyone in Slytherin, especially those that were caught in the crossfire last year, owe a lot to her. She’s one of the good ones.”

You nodded, smiling. “I wouldn’t have let her date my best friend if I didn’t think that myself.” 

“Luna makes her really happy. I’m glad that they have each other. Pansy earned it.” 

“They both did.”

The conversation was cut short as Slughorn tapped his spoon against his goblet. The two of you reluctantly made your way back to the table.

“Thank you all for joining me tonight. It is a great privilege to be able to gather after all that passed last year. I urge you to look around at your fellow witches and wizards, remembering the fallen and celebrating the sacrifices that have all brought us back to this castle. As we commemorate this monumental moment, let us look not to the past but to the future.” 

You swirled the glass of sparkling non-alcoholic spritzer, only half listening to the generic drivel that you’ve heard a thousand times before. The more Slughorn talked, the more irritated you felt. There was all this talk of looking to the future, moving on, hoping for a better tomorrow, but what use was that if you couldn’t even fix the present?

Professor Slughorn raised his glass in the air. “A toast to the best of the best.” 

That one phrase was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You had no idea why, but those words finally made you crack.

“That’s not right though, is it professor?” The whole table fell silent as every head turned in your direction. “Sure we may be smart, accomplished, but not the best.” 

Slughorn reeled back in surprise. His expression faltered before he plastered on a false smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. All of you worked hard to get here.” 

“None of us are even the top student in your class. That would be Theo.” You were vaguely aware that you were raising your voice, but once the words tumbled past your lips, you couldn’t reel them back in. “But he’s not here because surely we can’t invite your star pupil to a slug club dinner if his father is in Azkaban for being a death eater. That would be like inviting the Dark Lord to dinner, but wait. Didn’t you already do that, professor?”

A gasp came from your right. Melinda stared at you as though you’d grown an extra head. 

“That’s quite enough, Y/N.”

Your humorless laughter echoed in the cavernous office. “Oh, but I’m just getting started. What was it that you said in your welcoming speech at the beginning of the year? Unity and reconciliation? Surely ostracizing someone for his father’s deeds, which he had nothing to do with by the way, judged and ruled by the Ministry itself, directly contradicts that sentiment, does it not? Or are we all just supposed to ignore this blatant display of discrimination against a perfectly innocent student?”

“Perfectly innocent?” scoffed McLaggen. “Nott comes from a long line of dark wizards as do the rest of the Slytherins. They show you an ounce of kindness and suddenly you become their little muggleborn pet.” 

To your surprise, Cassius leapt to his feet. “Don’t call her that,” he nearly growled. “Y/N is just being a good friend. She stood up for Pansy when no one else would and now she’s doing it for Theo, too. You want to compare ledgers, McLaggen? Didn’t your father and uncle conspire to bring the Ministry under the Dark Lord’s control? They armed Voldemort and the Death Eaters then profited off of the war. They deserve to be in Azkaban just as much as my father does, but conveniently their records were wiped clean. Isn’t that why your family moved to France?” 

The room was utterly silent. McLaggen looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel, but Cassius wasn’t done. He wheeled around to face the other attendees. “I’m not stupid. I know I was only invited because I’m being scouted by the Cannons, but I hoped that attending would make you see me as someone more than just a Death Eater’s son. I guess I was wrong and now I’m done with this farce. You’ll never stop seeing us as the villains.”

Without waiting for a response, Cassius stormed out of the room. He held his head up proudly, nodding to you and Harry as he made his graceful exit. 

“Cassius is right,” Harry declared. “So is Y/N. We can’t crucify every Slytherin for the mistakes of a few. That would make us no better than Voldemort himself.  The way I see it, the only way to get to the future we all fought for is to work with our fellow classmates, the Slytherins included. I hope you can learn to look past your biases and false perceptions, just as I’m learning how to.” 

Not a single person moved as Harry finished his speech. “Right, well that’s that then.” He turned over to you. “Shall we get going, Y/N?” 

“Gladly.” 

You pushed your chair back and paid no mind to the burning gazes seared upon your back. Before following Harry out of the office, you leaned in close to McLaggen and lowered your voice so only he could hear. “If you ever speak poorly of my friends again, I’ll dose you with a potion that makes your precious man parts shrivel.” 

Cormac paled several shades as you patted him on the shoulder. “Enjoy your dessert, McLaggen. I heard chocolate ganache pairs well with prejudice.” 

The castle was quiet at this time of night. You and Harry walked side by side through the dungeons in silence. For someone who just blew up her academic career, you felt fairly calm. You knew that speaking up for your friends was the right thing to do. 

“Thank you for speaking up back there,” you said. “You didn’t have to do that. You don’t owe anyone anything after all you’ve done, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” 

“I do though. Hearing Cassius in there, I realized that the Ministry has failed both sides in a lot of ways. I think we’re all so eager to go back to the way things were before that we’re willing to overlook a lot of things. I’ve never even thought about families like the McLaggens who aided the Dark Lord, but got off with a light sentence. Or people like Cassius and Pansy and Theo who face a lot of unfair judgment from the rest of the wizarding world.” 

“That’s the point, Harry. You shouldn’t have to think about it. None of us should. We’re all just children forced to grow up by the war because of the failure of those before us. It’s unfair to be burdened with a load so heavy.”

Harry sighed, nodding. “But if we don’t carry our load, we risk repeating the same mistakes and I won’t have that. We have to do better than the past generations.” 

“We will,” you declared. “We have to.” 

The torch lights drew shadows across the stone floors as you contemplated. 

“You really care about them, don’t you?” It was more a statement rather than a question. You nodded, which made Harry smile. “I can tell that they care about you, too. Especially Theo.” 

“We spent years in competition with one another, the classic bitter rivals. It’s kind of ironic that we became friends during our last year here.” 

Harry looked at you strangely. “Right, friends…”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at the green eyed wizard. “What’s that tone for, Potter?” 

His mouth quirked. “Nothing, it’s just—well, Theo looks at you like I used to look at Ginny. With pining and yearning, as Mione liked to say. And the way you defended him earlier, Ginny would’ve done the same for me.” You were silent for a moment as you absorbed his words. “A word of advice, Y/N. I know it’s against those Ravenclaw instincts, but sometimes it’s good to get out of your head and tune into your heart instead.” 

“Since when did the boy who lived become an expert on all things romance?” you teased. 

“A handful of near death experiences really helps put things into perspective.” 

You grinned. “I’ll take your word for it, Potter.” The two of you came to a stop at the base of the Ravenclaw Tower. “Well, this is me. Thank you for tonight. I genuinely hope to never do it again.” 

Harry laughed. “You and me both, Y/N.” 

You raised up on your tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek in thanks, feeling uncharacteristically chipper despite the disastrous dinner. “Good night, Harry.” 

He smiled, blushing slightly. “Good night, Y/N.” 

As you climbed up the spiraling staircase, you saw a glimpse of snow falling softly over the castle grounds. When you stopped and stared at the glittering landscape, you recalled the other night in Hogsmeade when Theo leaned in to brush the snowflakes off of your lips. 

There’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you. 

You were certain that you already knew what Theo was about to say, because you’ve been meaning to tell him the same thing too. When you reached the fifth floor, your grin had grown so wide that your cheeks ached from smiling. As you slipped past the bronze eagle knocker, you caught a glimpse of a discarded bouquet of wisterias peeking out from a nearby trash bin. 

With a pause, you plucked a petal off of your favorite flower and tucked it into your braid. You went to sleep that night thinking that Harry was right. 

Maybe it was time to let your heart do the talking. 

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[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 4.2: Robin's Boy

A.N: Life is kinda sucky right now with job hunting, surviving at my current job, the strains that come with being a caregiver to a family member while maintaining a long distance relationship and just dealing with mental and emotional self-care. So here's this, super late and not beta-read but at least I wrote it.

As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags and/or ask box.

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce's Edition), Part 3 (One of Us), Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies her dad loves without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her.

Seeing the declared dead Chief of Police step out of a sleek black, obviously-secret-government-bullshit car flanked by an agent she recognizes as one of Owens' lackeys from last July when they were making the rounds with Government funded medical care contingent on signing sketchy NDAs? Just par for the course at this point.

Steve's face when Eleven-Jane rushes into the not-dead Chief's arms and it turns into a whole 'Moment'? Said Chief's look of barely interested confusion followed by tired annoyance when Steve drags her in front of him, rambling about Starcourt and new additions to The Party and finally getting to meet 'My Hop'? Yeah, none of that surprises her either. She plays along for Steve, doesn't give Hopper any time to say anything that would take that happy smile off his face or get rid of the way he's practically glowing he's smiling bigger than she's ever seen directed at anyone other than the kids. Tries not to think about the way it makes something in her clench and crouch like a cat getting ready to pounce and bare fangs she didn't realize she had outside of a life and death situation. She introduces herself, maintains eye contact and drags Steve off as fast as she can to do something, anything, that will distract him from trying to catch up like the Byers clan is with the kids and assembled assorted monster fighters.

She's not surprised when she can't stop Steve from stepping up every time Hopper or Joyce or anyone with a badge says they need anything despite his own still healing wounds. She's not surprised when Hop takes it a step too far.

They're at the Hopper Cabin that is steadily becoming the Hopper-Byers Cottage when Hop tells his and Joyce's shared custody bald parasite that Steve is little more than an annoyance he puts up with for the free babysitting service and manual labor and cause he can go up against shit that would give anyone else nightmares while keeping the kids safe and mostly in-check. She's sitting with Eleven-Jane, sewing patches onto one of Hop's old army jackets, (the kid had seen Eddie's battle vest in Steve's car and it had reminded her of her sister Kali and she'd decided she wanted one of her own for the war ahead and then all of the other rugrats had decided they did too so she and Argyle had taken to giving sporadic sewing lessons whenever the kids had the materials to start their own battle attire) when Steve comes round the corner to the back of the property striding with purpose she rarely saw when he was around his kids.

She leaves her unfinished project on the stump she'd been using as a stool and chases after him. She shooes off curious and worried kids, promising to stick with him, keep the walkie close and on, make sure he was safe and didn't run afoul of any demo-beasts or trigger-happy government goons as he made his way to his car and then wherever else he was marching his happy ass.

She hates the fact that when they're both finally back at the little apartment that Owens' yes-men had acquired for Steve when Harrington Sr. decided to be an opportunist prick and kick Steve out for 'not taking care of the house' in the middle of the 'earthquake', that Steve hasn't shed a single tear. She hates that she's not surprised.

He doesn't say anything as he kicks off his Nikes and shuffles over to the 'second-hand' couch they'd gotten from Mrs. Henderson (Steve and Robin were both fully aware she'd just gotten it shortly before Spring break and was in no way in need of a new one so soon, but they both also knew better than to call her out on her kindness). He doesn't look up at her from his spot curled in amongst the throw pillows and blankets they'd been gifted by parents of various members of the party after Hopper and Owens' story that the two of them had saved the kids again from some freak incident like last year with Starcourt. She pulls out the thick quilt they had found in the latest donations bins when Hawkin's government supervised relief force started outsourcing for supplies and basic comforts. He stares at the wall where they'd hung an oversized corkboard dedicated to polaroids and photo booth strips and even some properly printed pictures of the little monster fighting family they'd put together.

She can't pull him out of this, no matter how much she may want to. There's some places his mind goes only Eleven-Jane would be able to reach and neither of them were going to put more on that girl's plate. So she puts on a Bruce Springsteen record she used to hate and curls up as close as she can to him through the quilt and pillows. Every now and then she gets up to get them both water, to grab some crackers to try and coax him into eating and to switch over to a new record or just flip the one on the player but she always comes back to her spot next to her Steve.

"Whatever he said to you, you know it's not true. Right? You're worth more than a dozen undead cops on a power trip." That gets an amused huff.

"Seriously Stevie, the kids adore you, I swear all the moms in Hawkins think you're the best thing since sliced bread and I don't know what I'd do without my personal chump. We're soulmates, remember? One of these days we're gonna mind meld like Spock and McCoy and we'll be unstoppable. I can't make it without my McCoy, Bones."

"I can't make it without you either, you hobgoblin. Thanks Bobby."

The next day is better. Steve is still a little quiet, a little droopy. But he's present and there's a simmering anger underneath his smile that Robin is proud to see him acknowledging but makes her worry about him as he ushers her into his car to drop her off on her rare lone shift at Family Video before he heads out to a quick 'consultation patrol' with some military special operatives to check out something weird by one of the new cracks.

No one had told any of the kids yet, about the cracks starting to spread out in smaller fissures like a slowly spreading infection. Hadn't thought it necessary with Steve and Nancy (both now legal adults and wasn't the government taking full advantage of that) there as a first line of communication while Joyce wrangled a restless Hop as he settles back in and heals and spars with Owens over payouts and government aide for the town and what the growing military presence was and wasn't allowed to do. With the parents occupied the kids had come together tighter than ever, focusing on their injured and recovering from the nightmare fuel that was their spring break. No one noticed.

She can't help the rant she falls into as they drive through checkpoints and past regular civilians being escorted through areas a little too close to a Gate for comfort. She goes on about how half of the soldiers act like Steve is just one of them and the other half treat him with the same cautious curiosity they do Eleven-Jane whenever she makes her way to the 'front lines' these days. She wants to get the weird boy-speak head nods too! Even Nancy gets them, especially when she's walking around with her sawed-off strapped to a jerry-rigged hip-holster. Robin has used Darlin' before, she's speed poured Molotov Cocktails to hand to soldier boys trying not to piss their pants as Steve and Nancy barked orders as they tried to down a demogorgon fresh from the Upside-Down. Where's her battlefield camaraderie?

It makes him laugh and shake his head fondly as he calls her crazy and weird with that soft smile on his face that makes her chest feel warm and fuzzy like her parents' hugs used to when she was 10 and crawled into their bed after having a nightmare. She doesn't tell him to be careful as they turn down onto Main street or to make sure he comes back in one piece as he rolls to a stop in front of the dark storefront. She starts on another tangent about him abandoning her to the drudgery of Capitalism as he gets to frolic in the woods with a bunch of burly men with their toys before he laughingly reaches over her to open her door to start pushing her out of the car. He smiles big and dopey as she practically spills onto the asphalt, still rambling away about neglectful soulmates and abuses of driving power with smatterings of claims that she'll take over his apartment if he dies and use his ashes as fertilizer for the plants he's taken to keeping on the fire-escape outside the living room window if he dares to leave her alone to babysit his hellions.

He shoots back a final, "Love you too Bobby!" before taking off towards where he's meeting the scientists and soldiers he's supposed to lead through Upside Down infected woods. As he leaves her standing on the sidewalk he doesn't make any sort of promise to be safe, to let the government goons just do their job, to make it back to her alive or in one piece. Not even to make it back to her. She plays with the locket she's taken to wearing that holds a curled up braid of hair shades darker than hers or anyone's in her family.

She doesn't watch his car to the end of the street like she might have before Spring Break, after their Starcourt 'adventure', instead she takes a deep breath and unlocks the dumb video store in this dumb town full of dumb people who don't know when to call it quits and just get the hell out of Dodge. She boots up the computer leaving it to warm up while she starts sorting through whatever mess the new shmucks Steve insisted they hire to cover what times the two of them couldn't because of the Arcade (which they had also gone and hired more staff for now that people weren't one tremor away from rioting in the streets) and Upside Down/ government related shenanigans they ended up getting dragged into.

The bell above the door jingles and she has to bite back a groan. "Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She won't turn to face him, not sure she can keep her cool if she does right now. Her hands move on muscle memory, shuffling papers into their proper piles and flipping open VHS cases to check if they need to be rewound. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." She may have only heard his voice a couple of times and in passing but she didn't call her ears little geniuses for nothing. She forces her body to relax, lowering her shoulders the way Steve taught her to and keeping her voice light like Eddie walked her through, calling on his Theatre Kid skill set to teach the Party how to convincingly lie improvise when being questioned by people who really did not need to know just what was going on in good old Hawkins.

She can hear him sigh and can't help but picture his hand running over the fuzz on his head the way Steve runs his hands through his coif more and more nowadays in a way he never did before Nancy, before he got pulled into this bullshit and Hopper was rumored to be the one signing his paperwork and taking responsibility for him when his parents didn't show up after an almost week long stay at the hospital. "Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here. To fix it."

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef and meatloaf covered in ketchup, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place she used to pet and give snacks to on her way to and from school make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies she and her dad used to stay up late watching together without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight by her bed for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her. Jim Hopper might have just done it.

She doesn't stop moving, doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of throwing her off. She fiddles with the sharp little knife she has tucked up her shirt sleeve in the little sheath she and Steve put together between shuffling papers, taps at the button on her vest hiding the mic attached to the walkie talkie that never leaves her pocket these days. When she finally turns to look at him she's not surprised by the thinness of his frame or the way his eyes and cheeks still look a little sunken in. She sees the tired father worried for his kids and his people and his town, angry at the government for their involvment and their stupidity that she had come to expect. She is not expecting the remorse, the fear, she sees looking back at her. She wonders for a moment what he sees when he looks at her, at any of the teens and kids and young adults he's fought alongside trying to stop the end of the world.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He looks mildly confused for a moment, meaning Joyce hadn't been passing along even the minimal information Nancy and Steve had been giving her to relay to Hop and the rest of the Party. That would have to be it's own discussion at some point probably. "-in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

"You care about Harringt- Steve. You're close, the two of you have been basically Siamese Twins since Starcourt from what I hear. I- I realize that I made a mistake dumb enough shitting Mike Wheeler is making more sense than me, that I fucked up in a way I don't fucking know how to fix. And I am asking. Politely. For your help."

Honestly she's not sure she believes him. Honestly he's surprised her more times in the last five minutes than most anything or anyone else has in the last year. The man has a lot to unpack and the situation with Steve is just a drop in the man's pile of shit he's managed to bury himself under but maybe there's some hope yet.

She checks the watch on her wrist (an obscenely expensive piece Steve got from one of his parents' rich friends at a holiday party he was too young to remember on a leather band that he had outgrown and never got around to replacing) and looks back at Hop. Ten more minutes. "Why are you here?"

Hop groans in that growly sort of way that makes her think of her grandpa Dale, a great bear of a man who had given the best hugs with shoulders to put Jim Hopper to shame. The no-longer-chief runs his hand over his fuzz again, one hand propped on his hip as he shifts his weight to one side and she tamps down the flicker of biting anger at another example of the ways Steve had shaped himself after a man who never gave him the respect or care he deserved.

"I don't know how to fix what I fucked up. Steve's a good kid, I can admit that now. And he didn't deserve my bullshit just cause I couldn't get past old highschool biases. I wasn't there for him like I should have been- like I told him I would be when I signed those papers. But he's not the kid I thought he was, he's nothing like his folks or the other trust fund brats who think they run this shithole town. I don't know what I'm doing. I just know that kid deserves better than I've been doing."

She hums like she's mulling over his little speech to hide the way she's freaking out a little over what to say to all that. Even she doesn't know how she and Steve got to where they are beyond being tortured by Russians for information they didn't have then being drugged out of their minds while fighting inter-dimensional flesh monsters. But she doesn't think that would help Hop much in this situation.

But she thinks she believes him. At least for now.

"Alright, I'll help you with Steve." Hop sighs, his shoulders dropping as he seems to unclench slightly. Seriously, that much tension cannot be good for him after being in a Russian gulag for almost a year. "But not because I think you deserve it. You were right, Steve deserves better, but he wants you and Joyce and the kids to be in his life. Be a part of it. That is the only reason I will help you. He deserves a better dad than the one he's had and for some reason he thinks you're like super-dad."

"I- How the fuck did I not- What the hell?"

Robin shrugs, "The human brain is good at weeding out what it doesn't want to see. You didn't want to see Steve until you had to and that realization brought you to me. So. Ignorance is bliss and all that."

"So what do I do?"

She checks her watch again. "He'll be running late, especially if the fissure he's checking out is as bad as we think it is. So you have time to run back home, get Joyce to make extra of whatever monstrosity of a casserole she's trying to make this week and you get your rugrats to figure out a way to be the last drop off after Steve takes the brats to the arcade later instead of sleeping off whatever knocks he gets on patrol today. Then instead of letting him head home you make him come inside for dinner. Use the excuse of finding out he's been doing patrols if you have to. But you make him go inside and sit his ass down and eat something and you let him just- let him just be, Hop." She's running out of time but there is just so much she wants to get through to him. "Just make him feel like you see him."

"I- I'll try."

"Yeah, sure. Just-" She bites back the vitriol she wants to projectile vomit in his direction. "Just don't hurt him again. He's more than just a babysitter or front lines muscle. And I will make you wish you were back with the Russians if you make him forget that."

"I believe you."

"Good." The bell over the door jingles again and she looks past Hop to see a group of teenagers making their way to the comedies. "Now I have to get to work and you need to not be here by the time Steve comes to check on me. So talk to you later, Chief."

"Right. Thanks for your help, kid."

She shrugs him off as he turns to head out. The teens are watching him not-so-discreetly as they try to act like they're looking through the latest releases. She forgets that the man is as much a mystery as the heavy-duty military forces that have taken over their small town.

"Alright, folks. What are we looking for today?" She still technically has a job to do even if the kids keep their distance from her like they do the rest of the Party who at this point have all been seen either spending time with said heavy-duty military forces or chasing something into the dark of the forest wielding weapons smeared in monster blood, or both. It's going to be a long day.

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[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Not one step back

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Sire, the entire front is collapsing.”

“Do you think me an imbecile?”

General Mi’v swatted the report out of his subordinate’s hands drawing the attention of senior staff as it clattered to the floor. Mi’v waved a hand across the holographic table while glaring down the current target of his discord.

“Do you think I am incapable of reading a map?!”

The hologram projected was of the planet’s surface below and it was not painting a pretty picture. The entire frontline was being pushed back across several dozen kilometers. In some places entire coalition regiments had been encircled and wiped out before they even knew what hit them.

“Why did intelligence not-“, one of his aides began to voice before Mi’v held up a hand to forestall them.

“This is not the time for such questions,” He spoke softly as he eyed the nervous looking intelligence officers, “but I assure you that there will be a reckoning once this is over.”

While the intelligence corp began to make themselves busy the general got to work salvaging what was the verge of a complete rout.

“Have the 33rd and 42nd corps redeploy to the 16th artillery core and begin reinforcing the positions. Order the 16th to begin bombarding their positions once they have confirmed to evacuated them to buy us some time.”

He directed his attention to the northern front. “Send in the armored 10th to cover the retreat of the 89th. They won’t be able to deal much damage but the enemy may think it’s a coordinated counterattack and divert forces to meet them.”

Several aides nodded and began relaying the orders with great haste as the general continued to issue a rapid succession of orders. Slowly but surely the chaotic retreat reformed itself into a coordinated withdrawal.

It was while he took in the southern front that something perplexed him.

“What is that?”

The general pointed to an isolated blob of green friendly territory in an ever growing sea of red hostile advances. It was still where the frontline had been several hours earlier, but unlike the other positions the enemy had not overrun them. Instead they had opted instead to bypass the emplacement entirely without any apparent attempts to remove them.

One of his aides scrolled down on their data pad and pulled up the relevant information. “That sector is under the command of the human contingent; a one Colonel Finn Rosek of the 199th.”

“Do we still have communication with them?” Mi’v asked. One of the radio operators leaned in over their headset, fiddling with the controls, before looking back and nodding at the general.

“I have the colonel for you now sire.”

“This is General Mi’v, what is your status?” the general spoke with authority.

“What’s your authorization code?”

The response was crisp and somewhat startling as several aides and officers watched the general’s face turn a shade of purple from embarrassment.

“I am the commanding general of the Coalition war effort!” Mi’v stated forcefully, barely containing his anger. “I do not need authorization codes.”

“You say that,” the human replied crisply once more, “but how do I know you’re not some Glek’n saying they’re the general?”

The shade of purple turned to a deep black as the general’s anger now was on full display.

“Do you have any idea who you speak so flippantly to!?!”

There was a long pause as the room thought the human had finally realized the serious of the situation. Their next reply showed they had clearly not.

“Someone claiming to be a general at the moment.”

“I AM THE GENERAL!” Mi’v roared into the transmitter.

“Then provide us with the proper codes or get off this frequency.” The human replied dryly. “This line is reserved for military communications only and if you continue to clog it I will need to file a report with your superior officer.”

Mi’v threw up his hands in frustration as all he could muster from his mouth were half swears and curses upon fools.  He snapped his fingers at the nearest radio operator who had been listening with well hidden amusement. They swiftly entered a series of keys on their keyboard which then lit up green.

“Transmitting codes.” Mi’v spoke through clenched teeth.

The console chirped several times as the codes were transmitted as the general paced back and forth along the edge of the projection.

“Codes received.” The human replied dryly. “What can I do for you general?”

“Get me Colonel Finn Rosek at once; then give me your name and rank.”

Another long pause as they gathered officers heard what sounded like the human speaking to someone else before returning to the transmission.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that general.” The human continued unenthusiastic. “The Colonel is not here at the moment.”

“Where are they!?” Mi’v shouted; his temper finally long since crossed.

“He went to speak with you at your headquarters over recent failed deliveries of rations; by last account he should still be at your headquarters.”

Mi’v’s head shot up and he took a look around the headquarters. From the corner of his eye he did indeed see a human Colonel step forward and offer a crisp salute.

“If you need anything else please feel free to reach us at 1-800-IDNT-C—“

The link went dead as Mi’v turned his attention to the Colonel who had just inadvertently made a mockery of him in front of his own command staff.

[0cta9on]

Aye yoo bud✌️

0cta9on Fluffy mode activated, I'm curious how you would write cute/fluff thought on Bae Nmixx.

The way that I see her, I thought she's the most normal member in Nmixx but I'm totally wrong. Her short hair like OmG🤧, I have always like girls keeping their long hair but she's making me think otherwise. Turns out she's the jokester in the group. She maybe doesn't get the most line in their songs but her part always makes me listen thoroughly especially during her part.

I know this may look like I'm jumping biases, but I'm just starting to notice everyone's charm.

- Haewon's latest live stream especially her wolf cut hair style, is just perfect🐺. She can be cute apart from her funny side in which taking most of the spotlight.

-Lily is always such a a ball of sunshine with her aussie accent korean. With her cute struggle to keep up with the Korean language🇰🇷.

-Now I'm starting to look at Kyujin more of a Maknae than ever🐱, she's a bit peculiar compared with other group's maknae, maybe the shocking fact that she's considered the "mother" among the members despite being the youngest.

-Jiwoo? I already went ham on her on the previous ask, totally didn't consume my daily dose of that Bae and Jiwoo tik tok video🤧.

-Where is Sullyoon? I'm currently abstaining myself from her, just a mere second of her appearance is going to make me go overdrive.😵‍💫 I can't get my work done if I kept staring at her for hours.

Hello mikeylo! I decided to use this opportunity to write a short about her instead of just doing fluffy thoughts, hope you don't mind :]

This was a fun one to write, somehow managed to finish it in the span of two hours :> Enjoy!

You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re a “nerd” ages ago. Studying isn’t something you necessarily enjoy, but it’s a necessary task you must complete in order to secure your spot in the real world, where meaningless titles like “nerd” or “jock” hold no substance on one’s success and only those who truly work hard will stand the test of time. With finals inching ever closer, it’s vital to you that you don’t waste a single second—

“What’s up, nerd?”

A light smack to the back of your head tears you out of the flow state you were in while brushing up on previous study guides from the past year. There’s only one person you know that’s dimwitted enough to still throw out outdated insults like that, almost as if she’s a caricature of a high school bully from those 2010’s movies she claims to hate.

“Bae,” you grumble, “Why are you even here? I thought you said you were ‘allergic to the library’?”

She shrugs, plopping down into the empty seat next to you. “I got bored.”

“Okay.” You turn your attention back to the worksheets in front of you, trying to remember where you left off. “Not my problem.”

“C’mon, man,” she groans. “Let’s do something fun.”

There aren’t many things that threaten the future of your success; most issues can be waved away with a quick favor or a helpful push in the right direction. In fact, you already have the rest of your life meticulously planned out in a journal, complete with potential contingencies and multiple backups in case any problems may arise.

Enter: Bae Jinsol. The physical embodiment of everything that could and will stand in your way. You tutored her once two semesters ago, and you’ve regretted it ever since. Not quite a leech—you’re not that cruel—but her unyielding persistence alone is enough to make it so that giving her what she wants is the only viable solution you have. More often than not, this means hours of time wasted that could be spent towards perfecting your mind to the best it can be.

“I’m really busy right now,” you say.

“What could you possibly need to study for, you’re, like, the smartest person I know.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Knowing you, that doesn’t mean much— Ow.”

Bae slaps your arm, pouting at you. “That’s mean.”

You can’t help but grin at her expression. “You’re right, that was mean. I apologize,” you say, making an effort to sound sincere. “Now, I have a lot of work to do, so unless you’re okay with sitting there and watching me study, I suggest that you go and hang out with your other friends.”

She rests her head against the table, turning to watch you with her endearingly round eyes. “I chose to come here. I’ll stick to my decision like a real man.”

“Whatever,” you chuckle before turning back to the study guide.

It’s a bit difficult trying to study with an audience, but not a scenario you’re unfamiliar with. On the rare occasion that Bae doesn’t consistently bug you with her antics, you find her presence quite comfortable. Sometimes she’ll even ask about what you’re working on and entertain your little rants about discoveries you’ve made or thoughts you’ve been having, asking questions if she doesn’t get something. Her motivation to study is nonexistent, but her desire to understand is glaringly present.

Although, with nothing to talk about today, she gives you a good five minutes before breaking the silence.

“I’m bored again,” she sighs. “Let’s get boba.”

“What happened to sticking to your decision ‘like a real man’?” you tease.

“I’m a woman, jackass.” She leans into you, obscuring your view of the study guide with her face. “And this woman wants boba.”

The world around you freezes as the scent of her perfume lingers past your nose, igniting memories of warmth and coziness. The first crack in a wall that you worked too hard to maintain. 

“Why don’t you ask Haewon to go with you instead?” you suggest, trying and failing to avert your gaze from those perfect irises, like swimming pools of deep obsidian.

“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “...I wanna get boba with you.”

The crack in the wall splinters and grows, exposing the weaknesses that you didn’t know were there. Or perhaps, you did know and chose to ignore them anyways, spackling over them with cheap excuses.

You scoff at her, a meager attempt to save face. “You just want me to pay for you. Again.”

“I told you I’ll pay you back!” she exclaims, earning a couple harsh shushes from nearby students. “I’m just a little strapped for cash at the moment.”

“Why don’t you try, I don’t know, actually looking for a job?” Your gaze moves back to your papers, desperately trying to escape this stalemate. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.”

Bae clings to the sleeves of her sweater, pouting at you. “Please~?”

Despite her persistence, you dare not move an inch, worried that one small movement could be the final crack that topples the wall. Your eyes reread the same line over and over again, hoping each pass will eventually take, but your mind is too cluttered to properly focus. With the gentle tug of her fingers and the notes of vanilla bean gliding past your nostrils, it’s a wonder how you haven’t succumbed to her demands already.

With a huff of her breath, Bae takes your hand in hers, using her final trump card.

“Baby~”

You want to think that, at that moment, the wall came crashing down in a ceremonious fashion, leaving behind a pile of rubble in its wake, a monument to all the effort you put into your future. But the truth is, she tore down that wall months ago—in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment of its destruction. 

The second you came face to face with her confused expression in that pre-calc class is the moment that sealed your fate, completely changing your perception of what the future could be like for you. That journal you keep, detailing every single miniscule detail of your potential career? You barely got two pages in before turning it into a scrapbook, filling every inch of paper with words, pictures, and keepsakes that remind you of the girl that refuses to give you a moment of peace.

And maybe that’s a good thing. The world could end tomorrow, rendering all of your plans useless. Why spend your last moments with your nose in a study guide when you could be drinking boba with your girlfriend?

“...You’re the worst, you know that?” you utter, interlacing your fingers with hers. Bae flashes you that wide, toothy smile that you can’t get enough of.

“Wow, you’re actually so obsessed with me, that’s insane,” she teases. “Just a single word and you immediately folded like an omelet.”

You haphazardly throw your belongings into your bag, eager to get out of the library and spend time with her. “I’m not obsessed, stupid,” you say,” I’m in love with you.”

“God, you’re so corny.” Despite her deflection, the blush growing on her face betrays her true feelings. She nervously scans the rest of the room before planting a sneaky kiss on your cheek, warm yet fleeting. “I love you too, stupid.”

It’s a fool’s errand to try and predict the future. No matter how smart you are, how many books you read, how many plans you make, the only thing you can do is hope for the future that you desire. And right now, the only future you want is one just like the present, with you clinging onto Bae’s hand with no intention of letting go.

[jmdbjk]

Why I don't expect promotion for Muse to be similar to RPWP or Golden...

...or any other release before that.

Smeraldo Garden Marching Band is doing well for not having it's artist available. In fact it is outstanding. There were many other prominent artists who released music on the same day and are currently hitting up the interview circuit and other promotional activities. Our boy debuts at #4 on Global Spotify and he's somewhere on a military base.

See the post here.

That is pretty outstanding for not having the artist available to promote. Name another artist in which this has happened.

Perhaps a dead one... let's just not go there.

"But the Youtube views are low..."

I think since the popularity of Tiktok, the use of YouTube and therefore its influence has diminished somewhat. That doesn't mean there shouldn't be more views. We all know the challenges we have with YouTube. We just have to do the best we can with using YouTube.

Help boost views. Watch the MV here.

"But Right Place Wrong Person was heavily promoted..."

Namjoon was all over his own IG often, almost every day for a while, along with the staff he appointed to post on the @rpwprpwprpwp Instagram account. Perhaps this created a perception that RPWP had some heavy promotion when he was doing all that himself and it was keeping it in front of us so consistently.

The BigHit instagram chat channel is being used for Muse and has been very engaging. It is convenient for Jimin in case he is able and does repost or create a story with any of that content.

I've seen a lot of buzz in the media on both sides of the Pacific regarding SGMB and Muse. That means BigHit sent out press kits. I saw at least one radio group posting they had the song and it was ready to include in their rotations. We'll see if they actually follow through. But that means BigHit sent it to radio.

"Jimin and the members need to post about it..."

It is more of a challenge for Jimin and Jungkook to be online because of the location of their base. If it is in the mountains as was mentioned earlier this year, their internet connection may not be as reliable or strong enough to allow much use. Soldiers may also be restricted as to if they can even use it if the base itself needs it for military operations or if its encrypted for security or whatever myriad of reasons why they can't access it.

If they had reliable internet service where they are, we'd be seeing JK on TikTok more often. But... perhaps TikTok is one of those apps that they are discouraged from using as it is China-based and why JK created the Instagram account for Bam.

Perhaps they are free to do what they want only when OFF base and out of the area during their days off. We don't know what their restrictions are.

People just have to come down to earth and think. Jimin is in the military. I'm most certain that Jimin is being Jimin and focused on his duties. He is wearing fatigues and a helmet and going out everyday doing drills and training including firing ammunition out of a big ass piece of warfare equipment. He is listening to reports from his commanders about what is going on regarding North Korea and what his base will be expected to do if anything should escalate. He should be focused on his duties not focused on what is happening out here.

It is Saturday. Not sure what their alert status might be on a weekend. But we have to be cognizant that JM and JK are the closest to the DMZ of any of the members and will be activated first should anything occur.

I am constantly thinking about how every time we hear of nonsense from NK that JM and JK have to hear it every day too and any contingency they will be ready for in case anythng happens.

NK fired missiles the other day. Yesterday maybe? Some sort of rocket that can launch multiple missiles in one shot. It's chilling. Now imagine you are mere miles from the border and must react with your own weapons of mass destruction should anything become more aggressive.

Jimin worked and created, then he left it for us while he is doing his duty. I'm never going to expect him to do anything else until he is discharged. Unless he is able and wants to. Otherwise I want him doing what he feels he needs to do in order to get through this for himself and Jungkook.

I am very, very happy Namjoon was able to and wanted to participate in his own album's release as much as he was able. But some people have the same expectation that Jimin should too.

I'm never going to expect it from Jimin.

"The company is not doing enough..."

Surely everyone knows this is not a big long vacation for them. It may be a break from their careers and their real personal lives but its not a vacation by any means.

They keep saying its not easy. Perhaps they mean its not easy sitting in a military base carrying out a routine day in day out.

Or perhaps they say its not easy because they are on constant alert. They cannot give any details because their locations and their activities are classified information. Surely, surely, people can realize that right?

See? My brain is always thinking I just don't say a lot of what it comes up with. Because it serves no purpose to talk about it except to create worry. Just like people screaming at the company, it creates stress and negativity.

There is only so much public facing promoting the company can achieve especially when its been planned with the artist's involvement. Since I don't know (and neither does anyone else) what the entire promotion plan is, how can anyone speak on the promotion plan? Just because another member's release was handled a certain way does that mean it should be done the same for all? Not necessarily.

Stationhead listening party schedule:

This is an ad I just saw from BigHit.

Yes, this is an ad and not a repost, I've seen it twice already and it is not on the @BTS_bighit accounts feed:

These are posts promoting SGMB on streaming platforms:

Of course, if you use any playlists on streaming platforms, check the songs on the list and turn off/delete the ones you don't want to stream. Or create your own playlists.

The people printing their own posters, putting them up in public and asking for them to be displayed is WONDERFUL! THAT is the energy Army are known for!

Also the UK issue with the random inclusion making it disqualified. A fix may or may not be in the works. Constant screaming to the company won't make it happen faster or at all if it can't be done logistically. All screaming does is make everyone feel bad, including Jimin if he sees it.

@OfficialCharts is UK based and posted about Jimin and SGMB:

But since people began screaming since day one, every time another step in the promotion process occurs, screamers will take credit for it and vehemently scream it only happened because they were screaming when the reality is, no one knows whats on the promotion schedule.

Those of you telling people not to buy the album now but to wait and buy it when it releases? THAT IS USEFUL AND PRODUCTIVE INFORMATION!

We, as Army, know how, what and when to buy in order to impact the charts. I know you didn't forget any of that. So stop screaming and do something productive like tell people how to work around this apparent obstacle until it is fixed or in case it never gets fixed.

The screaming at BigHit to do their job is not productive or useful at all in helping Jimin at this point. It only displays negativity and lowers morale for those who don't know what to do.

We are a month away from the album's release for god's sakes, the pre-promotions are paced to keep interest.

They can't all be thrown out all at one time.

Whatever comes out as pre-promotions will be things that were planned in advance and not knee jerk reactions to the screamers.

"If we don't say anything, things will never change for Jimin."

That is your perception. Jimin is very much in control of his own life and career. He can change anything he wants to. Feel free to scream about it, I know its different strokes for different folks. But constantly screaming and trending it surrounds Jimin's activities with stress and negativity. I know you know how to communicate your concerns to the company discreetly. And we know they see our communications because they ask us for help to identify those who are carrying out slanderous and illegal activities against our guys.

If you want to help, communicate to the rest of the fandom the steps they can take to actually help increase streams, views and sales.

Even if the company plasters posters everywhere, WE, THE FANS, are still the ones who do the streaming, buying, viewing and supporting. Its in our hands now. We know what to do!

After all is said and done, I trust Jimin. He's in control of his life.

And he has Jungkook with him. That's the smartest fucking thing ever.

Please go stream it now on your preferred streaming platform.

Please go share some of the various positive news media stories out there on your socials.

[kilikina34512]

Loki Meets Peter

I hate how long I've been gone from writing and posting, but to explain would be a story in itself. Long short, life sucks, desire for enjoyments was gone, and I'm refinding myself and my writing. I look forward to writing more here and there until I have more time again. It's shorter than I prefer to write, but I had an hour only to spare.

This story is based from a meme I saw on TikTok that I can't seem to find again, but wrote from what I remembered with my own flare to it. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Summary: Loki comes back to the compound only to meet Spiderman. Basically, Peter being Peter and Loki's reaction to it.

Warnings: none, kinda fluffy cute

Word Count: 706

You were so happy to have Loki home, you could barely peel yourself from his side after the Bifrost had vanished.  He'd been gone off world with Thor for over a month dealing with a conflict that was facing Asgard.  Part of his release from life in the dungeons had been contingent on using his abilities for good, which for Odin had meant responding when summoned to fight for Asgard instead of its destruction.  

A deal you weren't enthusiastic about, but that was a battle for another day.

Right now, you were enjoying just being able to hold his hand as you both walked into the compound.  You knew he'd been healed already before returning home, but you could see the strain in his body language that you'd learned to read.  His shoulders were more tense and tight, spine straighter than normal to hide the fatigue, his face a bit stonier than it normally would be with you around.  You had a relaxing day planned for the two of you, everyone already knowing not to bother you so you could both spend time together after such a time away from one another.  

You were halfway down the hall that led to your suite when a door closer to you opened and a small form came out of the room.  Seeing who it was, you feared this could go badly with how tense your God of Mischief was.  It wasn't uncommon for him to snap at someone when he'd come back from Asgard, which was why no one had a problem with you helping him get back into a more amiable mood.  

Before you could say anything against it, the boy a few inches taller than you raced over and had his hand stuck towards your man.  "You must be Mr. Loki!  Hi, I'm Peter, Peter Parker.  It's so nice to finally meet you, she's told me so much about you."  Peter's eyes quickly indicated you before staring excitedly at the god before him.  You'd already told Loki about the newest Avenger on your way inside the building so that if they came across each other, it wouldn't be a surprise.  Still, you'd hoped not to have this meeting until tomorrow.

Letting go of your hand after a moment of hesitation, Loki finally shook Peter's hand.  "You must be the one called Spiderman.  I am Loki, of Asgard."

Peter, in his ever inquisitive nature, immediately asked, "I know you're an Avenger too, but, aren't you like... a bad guy?"

Loki, ever the smart mouthed silver-tongued Prince, didn't hesitate to respond, "It varies from moment to moment."

You gave Loki an admonishing look that you knew he saw.  You could see the faint tug of his lips, knowing he wanted to smirk at your response.  "So," Peter dragged out before continuing, "How much do I need to worry?  Like, on a scale of one to ten, one being flicking someone's ear and ten being something horrible like killing puppies and kittens, where are you at right now?"

Loki blinked and you barely held back the giggle that wanted to let loose.  You watched his posture relax ever so slightly and his voice came out with less of its formal tone.  "I would say it is currently about a three."

The boy in front of you both smiled before nodding.  "Cool, could you let me know if it ever gets above a six?"  Looking down at the alert on his watch, Peter looked back up with a more urgent expression.  "I have to go, Happy is waiting to take me over to see Aunt May.  It was nice to meet you!"  With that, the boy rushed away as fast as he could without all out running.  

After a moment of staring at Peter as he departed, Loki turned to look at you, amusement shining in his eyes.  "I like the boy of arachnids.  He amuses me greatly."

A wide smile broke out across your face as you tugged him back down the hall again, ready to spoil him.  "I'm glad to hear it, he's a precious bean for sure.  Now let's get to our room, I have everything ready for a bath and a new book of poetry is beside the bed ready for cuddles and reading."

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Run Away With Me

Summary: Timing is everything.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 935

Warnings: None

Beta: @princessmisery666

Inspired by: Runaway by The Corrs

The door behind you crashes open, a loud crack of plaster emanating as it slams against the wall, and an imposing flannel and denim-clad figure fills the entrance. You hadn’t expected to see him here but aren’t surprised by the intrusion. The rush of air that follows carries his unique cologne of leather, motor oil, and spicy aftershave, and you scold yourself for the deep inhale to momentarily savor its familiar comfort.

“Don’t do it.” His chest heaves with the effort of speaking as if he’s run a marathon.

The gravelly rasp sends your pulse skittering, “Winchester,” but you keep your tone deadpan, suspiciously eyeing his reflection in the mirror in front of you. “You weren’t invited. What are you doing here?”

His almost imperceptible glance to your left tells you all you need to know, and you sigh in exasperation. An amalgam of emotions swirls in the ardent depths of the viridian eyes that again find yours in the mirror’s reflection. Afraid to analyze why your lungs seize as if the entire room has become an airless void, your relief is palpable when he doesn’t give you a chance to. 

“He won’t make you happy.”

You inhale sharply, taking a moment to try and calm the fury that overtakes your turmoil as you turn to face him. “I haven’t seen you in over a year. You have no idea who or what makes me happy.”

“That’s not true.” His tone is sure, but no smug smirk backs it up, only a look of dejection.

Tension thickens in the air like the barometric pressure of an oncoming hurricane, and Donna decides to make her escape. Placing a kiss on your cheek, she rubs a hand down your arm, whispering, “Give him a chance to say what he needs to, yeah?”

“You and I will talk later,” you huff, but return the soft smile she gives you before walking toward Dean. She pats him on the chest, and he nods, giving her a brief smile as he steps further into the room to let her pass. 

His eyes rake over you, top to bottom and back up. “You’re stunning.”

He says it with such appreciative awe that your casing cracks a tiny bit as you snap, “Why are you here?”

“Missed ya.” 

Ah, there’s that cocky grin that has a way of either firing you up or infuriating you—contingent on the circumstances, of course. Scowling at him, you wave a hand down your body. “Kind of busy right now.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that,” he scoffs, “you’re making a mistake. He doesn’t know you like I do. He-”

Unable to stop yourself, you sneer, “As I said, you know nothing.” 

If you give him an inch, he will take that mile and then some. You refuse to let him see that you’ve been having doubts, that you’d been caught up in a rip current barely keeping your head above water, and mere minutes before he came bursting in, you’d been talking to Donna about calling the entire thing off.

Ignoring your interruption, he smirks, “I know that under that silky little number,” pointing a finger, “you’re wearing your favorite Chippewas, the black ones. I know there’s a garter on your left thigh, but on your right is your PPK-L in that sexy little holster I bought you.” 

Damn him!

He takes a step closer. “Does he know what you used to do? Have you told him what really goes bump in the night?” He nods at the press of your lips, accurately surmising that you haven’t. “So you’re starting this new life with a lie.”

“It’s not a l-”

“An omission of facts?” he supplies, brow arched in arrogance.

“I left for a reason. It hasn’t changed.” He paces like a jungle cat eyeing its prey. Apparently, he has something to get off his chest and isn’t going anywhere until he does. “Say what you came to say, then leave.”

“It has.”

“What?”

“Your reason—for leaving—oh, it’s changed.” Placing a hand over his heart, he states, “Everything fell apart after you left. I tried. I tried to let you go. I knew you’d be better off, happier without me, so I tried to forget about you and move on. Throwing myself into hunt after hunt, drowning in bottle after bottle of cheap booze …nothing worked. You’re everywhere.” The longing in his eyes belies the fierceness of his tone. “Your voice is a constant whisper in my ear. The taste of you lingers on my tongue like good whiskey. My dreams …you- you’re always there. It’s like we’re rigged up to an IV of dream root. Even when I’m awake, you haunt me. You're a ghost that I can’t dispel,” throwing his hands up, he grunts, “and I’m done trying to.”

Swallowing thickly, you stare at him, jaw slack, lips shaped around a heavy exhale. You know he loves you. Understand why he never voiced his deepest emotions or let you get too close. But maybe, now …

“You say I don’t know you, but I do. I always have. And I’m sorry for not giving you what you needed. I’m sorry for hurting you. I came here,” doubt creeps into his features for the first time since muscling into the room, “to beg you for a second chance.”

Your pulse beats like a hummingbird's wings as you mutter in disbelief, “It’ll never stop.”

“What?” The word weighs heavy with defeat in the space between you.

“I’ll never stop falling in love with you.”

Smile radiant, his voice a siren’s song, he extends a hand. “Run away with me.”

Sam's Version

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[theconstantsidekick]

The Suit And Tony Stark Are One

Pairings: Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Legal Drama with a hint of Angst.

Summary:  Tony is summoned to appear in front of the Senate for a hearing regarding his suit. Lucky for him his sister is also his lawyer.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Death, Some absolutely made-up law bullshit.

a/n: read The Avengers after this. It'll be pretty fun I think.

sidenote: I just missed Tony a lot, ok?

Meet Natalie Rushman (next part) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (Ft. Static) | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | Static Verse Masterlist  | Iron Man 1 (ft. Static) | Bucky Barnes, the Boyfriend

“Mr. Stark, could we pick up now where we left off?” Senator Stern calls out behind him, sitting along with a panel of other dumbass officials who seem older than the furniture they’ve surrounded themselves with. Tony’s attention, however, remains on Pepper. Can you really blame him? “Mr Stark. Please.”

When Pepper shushes him away, he turns around. “Yes, dear?” The people witnessing the shitshow let out a collective giggle.

“Can I have your attention?” Stern asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Do you or do you not possess a specialized weapon?”

“I do not.” He’s being honest.

“You do not?” Stern bites back.

“I do not,” He repeats.

“Care to explain that?” Stern questions.

“Mr. Stark’s answer to that question will be contingent upon your definition of a weapon,” Y/n chimes in. And man, isn’t it great having a sister who’s a lawyer? Tony thinks he won the lucky draw with it all because his sister is a little shit just like him who doesn’t really believe in half-assing anything… Or maybe he’s like her…? Whatever, that’s beside the point. The point is that she might have gotten the degree on a whim, but she definitely is the best lawyer money can buy and Tony doesn’t even have to pay for it!

“The Iron Man weapon.” Stern replies foolishly.

The Iron Man weapon? He thinks. Would’ve been less insulted if he called it a fucking robot.

“My device does not fit that description,” Tony answers.

“Well… How would you describe it?” Stern throws back.

“I would describe it by defining it as what it is, Senator.”

“As?” Stern prompts.

“It’s—It’s a high-tech prosthesis.” The crowd chuckles again. “That is—that—That’s actually the most apt description I can make of it.”

“It’s a weapon. It’s a weapon, Mr. Stark,” Stern surmises, pissed off and clearly annoyed. Is it bad that Tony’s having fun with that?

“If you are to classify the suit made by Mr. Stark—which I would like to remind you is something that you just did out of your own volition—but if you insist upon calling it a weapon, made by him in his spare time, which he bared all the expenses for, then this council meeting would become considerably redundant, as not only is that his private property, but it’s also legal for him to own as it is his part of his second amendment right to bare arms — your extremely vocal support of which won you your current seat, Senator. Isn’t that correct?”

Stern lets out a laugh, and Tony does too. Because that is a fucking hilarious defense.

“You can’t be serious. You can’t compare a whole suit of armor with missiles attached to it with a gun he can just carry around,” Stern argues. “It’s a weapon—a weapon capable of a lot of damage, examples of which we have already seen.

Y/n keeps leaning on her seat, casual as ever, completely unperturbed. “We never called it a weapon, Senator. You did. All we are stating are the facts; the suit is private property, invented, designed, and built by Mr. Stark exclusively, with his own money and his own resources. Why would the government have any claim on it whatsoever?”

Stern scoffs. “Let’s start with the fact that the second amendment does not apply to automatic weapons.”

Y/n just shrugs. “As per the constitution, ‘automatic weapons’ encompasses machine guns. No part of the suit can be classified as an ‘automatic weapon’ under those stipulations. On the other hand, a rocket launcher? Sure. But Mr. Stark has the necessary permits to own such weapons dur to his previous career as a weapons developer.”

“The suit does not fall under the second amendment,” Stern’s losing his shit right now. Tony wishes he had popcorn. “It just can’t. It is armed with at least hundred missiles. You cannot legitimately argue that it’s the same as owning a shotgun.”

“Senator—” Y/n sits up, and he knows it’s time to pull out his phone and get ready to click pictures of Stern’s face ‘cause she’s about to rip him apart. “—Here’s where you’re going wrong… The suit isn’t technically a joint unit. It is assembled by Mr. Stark as per his requirement. The different parts of the suit that you were so eager to classify as a weapon are all separate entities for which Mr. Stark has the required certification to own. The suit, lovingly referred to as the Iron Man suit is the intellectual and physical property of Stark Industries therefore it belongs solely to Stark Industries the corollary being that Mr. Stark and I own the suit. And if the government wants to use it for its own purposes, they are welcome to try making their own, or,” she shrugs again with a smirk, “ask real nice with a cherry on top.” Then she fucking winks.

Stern looks fucking red. His jaw clenches, he wants to curse at Y/n. Actually, Tony thinks he might want to throw the mic at her. But instead, he recomposes himself. “That, Ms. Stark, is absolutely absurd.”

“Is it?” Y/n challenges. 

Tony feels like he should intervene, or Stern might actually throw the mic at her. He feels bad for the poor guy. I mean, come on. After that, he needs a softer touch. “Please, if your priority was actually the well-being of the American citizen—”

“My priority is to get the Iron Man weapon turned over to the people of the United States of America,” Stern argues. 

Yeah, fuck this. 

Tony’s conciliatory tone is gone. He leans in closer to the mic in front of him, “Well, you can forget it. I am Iron Man. The suit and I are one. To turn over the Iron Man suit would be to turn over myself which is tantamount to indentured servitude or prostitution, depending on what state you’re in.” The crowd laughs. “You can’t have it.”

“Look, I’m no expert—”

Tony cuts him off “In prostitution? Of course not. You’re a senator. Come on!” The crowd chuckles and he basks in it, holding up a peace sign. But when he looks back at Pepper, well, let’s just say she’s not impressed at all. He mouths “No?” and she just shakes her head in disapproval. He looks over at Y/n then. Mouths again, “No?” Smiling, she mouths back, “Yes.” 

They smile at each other.

“I’m no expert in weapons. We have somebody here who is an expert on weapons,” Stern continues while fidgeting with his tie. “I’d now like to call Justin Hammer,” that makes Tony look up, “our current primary weapons contractor.”

This day just took a turn for the shit. 

Justin Hammer walks in, with his shitty little face in his shitty little suit, wearing his shitty little glasses, and takes a seat.

Tony leans towards the mic again, “Let the record reflect that I observed Mr. Hammer entering the chamber, and I am wondering if and when any actual expert will also be in attendance.”

Hammer just lets out a small chuckle, taking a sip of water. “Absolutely. I’m no expert. I defer to you, Anthony. You’re the wonder boy.” Asshat, Tony thinks to himself. Hammer makes him nervous. In like a concerned-for-the-wel-lbeing-of-people kinda way, he looks over at Y/n. She just shakes her head, indicating Tony has nothing to worry about. “Senator, if I may,” Hammer continues as he walks over to the podium in front of them. “I may well not be an expert, but you know who was the expert? Your dad. Howard Stark. Really a father to us all, and to the military-industrial age. Let’s just be clear, he was no flower child. He was a lion. We all know why we’re here. In the last six months, Anthony Stark has created a sword with untold possibilities. And yet, he insists it’s a shield. He asks us to trust him as we cower behind it. I wish I were comforted, Anthony, I really do. I’d love to leave my door unlocked when I leave the house, but this ain’t Canada.”

“If he is so afraid, Mr. Stark and I would like to urge Mr. Hammer to move to Canada or if he’d like, Stark Industries has a great home security system we could install, free of charge as a gift to provide comfort,” Y/n deadpans. Her face is so damn calm it almost comes off as sincere. 

Hammer looks very justifiably unsettled. “You know, we live in a world of grave threats, threats that Mr. Stark will not always be able to foresee. Thank you.” He walks back to his seat. “God bless Iron Man. God bless America.”

“That is well said, Mr. Hammer,” Stern says with a small smile. “The committee would now like to invite Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes to the chamber.”

“Rhodey? What?” Tony looks back towards the doors, he notices, however, Y/n doesn’t move an inch.

As Rhodey walks in, Tony gets up and meets him halfway to greet him. They shake hands.

“Hey, buddy. I didn’t expect to see you here,” Tony comments.

Rhodey looks at him, “Look, it’s me, I’m here. Deal with it. Let’s move on.”

“I just…” Tony tries but Rhodey cuts him off.

“Drop it.”

Tony throws his hands up, “All right, I’ll drop it.”

Both of them walk over to the seats. He sits back on his own seat meanwhile Rhodey takes a seat right next to Y/n. 

“Hey Y/n,” Rhodey greets her with a smile.

She smiles too. “Hey, Rhodes.”

“You knew about this?” Tony asks her, as Stern asks Rhodey to read off some report. 

“You pay me to know this kinda shit,” she replies.

“You’re billing me for this?” Somehow despite all the twists and turns, this is the most surprising thing to happen to him today.

She makes a face that’s something close to pure disdain. “You bet your iron ass, I am.”

“I have before me a complete report on the Iron Man weapon, complied by Colonel Rhodes. And, Colonel, for the record, can you please read page 57, paragraph four?” Stern instructs.

“You’re requesting that I read specific selections from my report, Senator?” Rhodey’s tone makes his disagreement absolutely clear.

“Yes, sir,” Stern insists.

“It was my understanding that I was going to be testifying in a much more comprehensive and detailed manner,” Rhodey argues, in the most polite-Rhodey-esque manner possible.

“I understand,” Stern states with disinterest. “A lot of things have changed today. So if you could just read—”

“You do understand that reading a single paragraph out of context does not reflect the summary of my final—” Rhodey’s protests are cut off.

“Just read it, Colonel. I do. Thank you,” Stern says dismissively.

Rhodey looks over at Y/n then, as if asking for permission in a way. When she nods, reluctant he begins, “Very well. ‘As he does not operate within any definable branch of government, Iron Man presents a potential threat to the security of both the nation and to her interests.’ I did, however,” Stern tries to interrupt him, but Rhodey doesn’t budge, “go on to summarise that the benefits of Iron Man far outweigh three liabilities and that it would be in our interest—”

Stern talks over him without any shame whatsoever. “That’s enough Colonel.”

Rhodey continues regardless. “—to fold Mr. Starkinto the existing chain of command, Senator—”

“That’s enough,” Stern shuts it down.

Tony decides to be a nuisance because, well, he hasn’t done that in a while “I’m not a joiner, but I’ll consider Secretary of Defence, if you ask nice.” The crowd laughs. “We can amend the hours a little bit.”

“I’d like to go on and show, if I may, the imagery that’s connected to your report,” Stern says, pointing

“I believe it is somewhat premature to reveal these images to the general public at this time,” Rhodey argues.

“With all due respect, Colonel, I understand. And if you could just narrate those for us, we’d be very grateful.”

Maybe Stern was one of those kids whose parents gave him actual coal on Christmas when he was a little asshole throughout the year, Tony thinks to himself. And that coal is what seems to be stuck up his ass, because what else could make the bastard so fucking insufferable?

“Let’s have the images,” Rhodey says, pointing over to the TV in the corner of the courtroom. As the images begin to show up, he narrates, “Intelligence suggests that the devices seen in these photos are, in fact, attempts at making manned copies of Mr. Stark’s suit. This has been corroborated by our allies and local intelligence on the ground indicating that these suits are quite possibly, at this moment, operational.”

While Rhodey gives his statement, Y/n looks over at him. “Do the thing,” she says.

“The thing?” Tony asks, playing dumb.

She rolls her eyes. “Just do it. I send the files over to Jarvis, they’re uploaded and ready to go. Can you just do it?”

He smiles, pulling out his phone, he looks over all the footage once, and yep. There they are. Remember how he said he won the lucky draw having his sister as his sister? Her previous work experience comes in real handy when you need top-secret information that the government isn’t exactly interested in sharing. 

Holding his phone up to align with the screens, Tony begins, “Hold on a second buddy. Let me see something here.” He connects his system to them as the code begins to infiltrate the system. “Boy, I’m good. I commandeered your screens. I need them. Time for a little transparency. Now, let’s see what’s really going on.”

“What is he doing?” Stern is panicking. 

“If you will direct your attention to said screens, I believe that’s North Korea,” Tony narrates as a video of a suit plays on the screen. It falls over, crashing and burning in their efforts to replicate his suit. The clip ends with blood splattering over the screen which is absolutely a sign of a well-functioning suit of armor for sure.

The crowd behind them loses their collective shits.

“Can you turn that off? Take it off!” Stern calls out to no one in particular. However, Hammer springs into action, trying to turn it all off. Tony suspects it has something to do with what he knows might show up next.

“Iran,” Tony notes as video footage of a suit flying plays. It does well enough, for all of five seconds before that too crashes. And judging by the fire, probably also burns. 

Hammer continues his futile tries to turn the screens off.

“No grave threat here,” Tony says, smiling. And then, for the big one. “Is that Justin Hammer? How did Hammer get in the game?” This is so much fun because while Hammer tries in utter panic to turn the screen off it is playing a video of Justin Hammer, himself, standing next to a suit, commanding it to make movements that it barely follows, before fucking up altogether and twisting a complete 180 degrees.

Tony, Y/n, and Rhodey exchange a look where all can’t help but smile at the incompetence, while the crowd behind them gasps in shock and fear.

“Justin, you’re on TV. Focus up,” Y/n remarks with a cunning grin.

Just as not-TV Justin finds the plug and unplugs the screen, Tony says, “Wow. Yeah, I’d say most countries, five? Ten years away? Hammer Industries—twenty.”

“I would like to suggest the council consider hiring a new primary weapons contractor because, well, that—” she points at the screen”—and also because while Mr. Hammer might be right in his claim that Mr. Stark might not be able to predict every single threat, he can at least build a fully functional suit of armor—much unlike your expert witness, Senator.” Y/n smiles with a challenge in her eyes as she speaks.

This reminds Tony of when he was a kid and Y/n would trip the kids who’d try to take away his toys. Was she abusing her powers a bit? Yes. Did they deserve it? Yes.

Hammer rushes back to the mic to state, “I’d like to point out that that test pilot survived.”

“I think we’re done is the point that he’s making.” Stern is standing up from his seat and he seems so lost, it makes Tony feel a little bad for the poor guy. But then again, fuck him. “I don’t think there’s any reason—” 

“The point is, you’re welcome, I guess,” Tony states.”

“For what?” Stern asks, dumbfounded.

“Because I’m your nuclear deterrent,” Tony says easily. “It’s working. We’re safe. America is secure. You want my property? You can’t have it. But I did you a big favor.” He stands up and turns around to face the crowd. “I’ve successfully privatized world peace.” He throws out two peace signs for good measure while everyone stands up and begins to applaud him. 

“What more do you want? For now!” Tony shouts out over the cheers. “I tried to play ball with these ass-clowns,” he comments, turning to point at the council who look wrecked.

“Fuck you, Mr. Stark. Fuck you, buddy,” Stern spits out with utter hatred. “We’re adjourned. We’re adjourned for today.”

“Okay,” Tony says casually, putting on his sunglasses.

“You’ve been a delight,” Stern says, every word drenched in venom. Meanwhile, Tony gives him a thumbs-up, sends a couple of flying kisses his way, and walks out of the room surrounded by the cheering crowd.

It’s later that he’s seated in the car that he realizes, he left Y/n behind. 

“Jarvis, call Y/n.”

“Calling Ms. Stark,” Jarvis replies.

The call connects.

“Hey, where’d you go?” He asks, hands on the wheel. He’s waiting now, stationary as ever.

“I didn’t go anywhere, you decided you’re the savior of the American people, and walked out to let said people laud all over, so in turn, I decided to hitch a ride with Rhodey,” she answers, sounding… frustrated?

He begins driving. “Are you mad at me? I thought that went pretty well.”

“It did go well. Up until the point you decided you’ve developed a god complex at the end and announced yourself as the nuclear deterrent.” Yeah, she’s definitely frustrated.

“But, come on! I am all of those things,” he argues, with a very slight mocking tone.

But apparently, she doesn’t agree because he’s met with a sigh from the other end. 

“Look, Tony, you told me you needed to do this to help people, to make your life worthwhile—that’s why I wanted to help you out.” She pauses. “I saw something really fucking great in you. It’s always been there, but I—I see it come up to the surface when you’re wearing that suit, which is why I was ready to fight the government to let you keep it. But if you’re gonna be the same arrogant asshole about it then I, myself will salvage your suit for parts and sell it off on eBay.” Now she sounds downright pissed off.

“Y/n, come on—” she cuts him off.

“There are people out there, you know?” Her voice is hushed, it puts him on edge.

“What people?” He asks.

“When I was looking into countries trying to develop similar tech to the Iron Man suit, I found people out there who could replicate it, they just haven’t gotten around to it,” she tells him in quiet whispers.

“Yeah?” He’s freaking out a little now… only a little. “Like who?”

“About half a dozen of them… But most prominently, Howard used to work with this guy, Anton Vanko. He got deported to Russia in ‘67 after he was accused of espionage, he died a couple months ago.”

“So a dead guy then?”

“He had a son,” Y/n bites back. “I’m trying to figure out if he has the designs, but know this, Tony, he does have the skills to pull it off.”

He’s freaking out a lot now, so much so that the car feels almost claustrophobic to him now. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” He says instead.

There is silence on the other side for a while and then, “I’m right behind you, Tony. Always. But you gotta be better.” 

The call disconnects.

Read the next part here Find the series masterlist here. Find the Static Verse Masterlist here.

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[infinizero]

Cale Henituse and Bruce Wayne differences popped into my head recently

They both,, very much cherish life but

Bruce would never kill anyone because he wants to save everyone

While Cale wants to preserve all the (relatively) innocent lives he possibly can

That is not to say that one of these things are wrong. I think that choosing to confront the worse society has to offer and deciding that their lives are worth enough to try saving is quite noble. I also think that choosing to get rid of the people who are simply irredeemable, who wouldn't live very happily even if they were somehow redeemed, is also noble.

The biggest difference between them in this aspect, is probably how much they enforce this rule on others and to what lengths they would go for this.

Bruce would choose to save the person in front of him if he could, even if it meant they would kill many others in the future. Cale would choose to let a victim of theirs dole out revenge even if it meant they died. (Raon choosing not to kill Venion v Ron and Beacrox and the assassin families that joined WS)

Which comes to my biggest gripe about Bruce

I got so annoyed thinking of this while writing that crossover I think Cale will probably embody this in it oops

Bruce doesn't kill people, that's fine, but why the hell did he save Joker from dying? Because he doesn't want his son to have blood on his hands?

So he won't stop killing when he starts? What kinda bullshit excuse is that, is self-control a myth to men? He realizes he won't be able to stop himself from murdering someone? Hang up the cowl. Cass is literally right there.

So Batman loses if he kills the Joker? So what? It's not a game. It's not a game. It's not a game. Important things need to be said thrice. So you lose the fight. So you end the single person who could not be redeemed if anyone tried, the person who killed your son specifically to get at you. Retire. Get therapy. Get better.

So his tragedy shaped him, so his ambition of helping people motivates him, then help in other ways. Hasn't this taken enough from you already? Aren't you tired? He is quite literally a billionaire. This money could be used for so many other things, just as or more helpful as his vigilantism has proved to be.

This post has derailed quite a bit whoopsie

Cale's faults, to me at least, are entirely rooted in his emotional constipation, something he shares with Bruce. I can't even blame him for it because *gestures at his life as KRS, then at his very busy life in Roan*

Anyways MOVING ON

A slight elaboration on all that would be that Bruce has contingencies in place should he die. He has successors and an entire system. Cale... Does not and the closest thing to a successor he has is Raon/On who are 6/12 as of the current canon and one is an op dragon who would destroy worlds if he dies. Bruce can die, but the repercussions wouldn't destroy the world. Cale, on the other hand...

Which takes me to how willing they are to break the law. Obv Bruce has vigilantism under his belt while Cale is a certified Scammer (exhibit... Everything), Arsonist (sea of fire anyone?), Terrorist (that time he kidnapped a king), has destroyed public property (an entire fucking island x2), has stolen items of great religious and historic significance (all the divine items, but is it really theft if it was just laying there?), led a civil revolution (elisneh and jopis), smuggling (cage and taylor into capital), and this post will be way too long if I continue.

The way they treat their subordinates/partners/kids!!!

Different versions of batman have different ways of doing it, but for the purpose of this post he is trying dad bruce (aka not the best but he is trying)

I think this is the biggest difference between them, actually, because Cale acts and tells the people around him the things they need and Bruce just... Doesn't communicate much. Somehow, they have the same communication issues and somehow they have the same emotional constipation. Somehow Cale still properly motivates his people better than Bruce does.

I feel like I've been shitting on Bruce this entire post but I genuinely can't think of anything he does that is better than Cale. Um. Oh yeah I guess his cause is technically more noble than Cale, do I think his methods are stupid? Yes. Do I like the stories that spring up from this anyways? Also yes.

This may or may not feel rushed because for some reason it posted while in draft stage but feel free to add

[angelasscribbles]

The Defiant King: To Catch a Killer

Series: The Defiant King

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: None in this chapter

Word Count: 1,620

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Mature Themes

My other stuff: Master List.

Liam sat in his office contemplating the fact that his mother’s killer was currently in the wind. His fury was tempered by the knowledge that there was nowhere on the face of the earth that Godfrey was safe from his reach. He couldn’t evade capture forever. He’d find him eventually.

Godfrey would pay for his crimes.

Bastien’s incompetence during the palace lockdown fiasco could not be overlooked, and Liam was done being nice. It had gotten him absolutely nowhere. Not in his personal life, not in his professional life. He had fired Bastien and promoted Mara.

There was a knock at his door and the new head of palace security ushered the countess inside.

“If you wanted to speak to me,” Madeleine sniffed, “You could have just called.”

“Sorry for any inconvenience, my lady. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk.

Madeleine sat primly on the edge of the seat, crossing her legs and wrapping her hands around her knees as she tilted her head to the side. “It’s about time you contacted me.”

“Is that so?” Liam raised an eyebrow, curious as to why she thought he had summoned her.

“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “With the birth of your heir and the line of succession secured, you’re ready to focus on ruling. You’ve realized that Riley is never going to be your queen and you’re ready to move on. Am I close?”

He smirked as he took his seat behind the expansive mahogany desk. “You’re right on all counts.”

Smugness settled on her features as she nodded. “I’m prepared to forgive you for past rashness and reinstate our engagement contingent on a few concessions, of course.”

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chair. “I must confess, I’m curious about what concessions you require.”

“A public apology, for starters. The way you unceremoniously dumped me was quite pedestrian and undignified. It requires an apology. The new marriage contract must be signed in front of multiple witnesses. We’ll sign it together, so I know you’re serious this time. I’ll need a new ring. You can’t expect me to accept the same one I returned.”

“Of course not. What else?”

“I’ll choose my own ladies in waiting this time, just as I’ll choose my own staff. I get full discretion with redecorating the palace. And Riley will give up her rooms at the palace. She has an estate; she can go back there.”

The amusement on the king’s face was replaced by annoyance. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” Madeleine was less sure of herself as she noted his pique.

Liam sat up straight and fixed her with a steely gaze. “Riley will stay here under my roof for as long as she damn well pleases.”

“If you expect me to agree to another engagement—”

Liam snorted. “Don’t worry. I’m not getting engaged to you, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“I don’t understand.”

“While you were correct that the line of succession is secured, Riley will never be queen and I am ready to move on and focus on ruling…none of that is why I called you here.”

Madeleine’s brows creased in confusion. “You didn’t call me here to renew our engagement?”

“No.”

“Then why did you ask me what my terms were?”

“Because it was amusing.”

Embarrassment flared through her. She covered it with ire. “Wow. You’re a real asshole, do you know that?”

“So, I’ve been told.”

Madeleine’s usually pale cheeks were stained with pink as she snapped, “Why did you call me here then?”

“Where’s your father?”

She blinked several times as she processed the question. “What?”

“You heard me, Countess. Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

Liam watched her face closely. She seemed genuinely perplexed. A bit of the tension eased out of his shoulders. At least he hadn’t been engaged to a woman that knew her father was a murderer. “He’s wanted for the murder of Queen Eleanor, my mother. Regicide is not just murder, but high treason, punishable by death.”

What small bit of color she possessed drained from her cheeks. “What? No…. there must be some mistake. My father is a son of a bitch, but he’s no murderer!”

Liam softened a little. “I’m sorry, Madeleine, but there’s proof.”

The countess slumped in her seat. Deep down in the bottom of her heart, she believed him, for her father was ruthless. He cared for nothing quite so much as self-advancement, she knew that only too well. “My mother—”

“Will be stripped of all her lands and titles. She’ll be allowed to stay in her home for now, assuming she’s cleared of any involvement.”

“There’s no way my mother knew. Come on Liam, you’ve met her. She’s not smart enough to pull something like that off, not ambitious enough to want to and she’s far too gossipy not to tell someone something if she knew anything about it.”

“Then she has nothing to worry about.”

“Except for losing her ancestral lands and titles.”

Liam shrugged. “She brought a traitor to court. If not for her, Godfrey wouldn’t have Cordonian citizenship, and he certainly would never have been in my parent’s inner circle.”

“Liam, please…”

His gaze hardened again. “Please what?”

“Be reasonable!”

He barked out an ironic laugh. “A moment ago, you were dictating a list of unreasonable demands to me.”

“Those weren’t unreasonable, and you tricked me into thinking you wanted to renew our engagement!”

“Why would I get engaged to someone who is no longer a member of the nobility?”

Her eyelids fluttered closed as she silently cursed her father. When she opened them again, her entire demeanor had shifted. “Please, Your Majesty, I beg you for mercy. I had nothing to do with my father’s crimes!”

Liam leaned back, tapping a finger to his lips. “Perhaps your mother’s lands and titles could be bestowed upon you… assuming you’re willing to earn them.”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll do whatever you ask of me!”

“I knew you would see reason. You’ll start by telling us everything you know about your father, his business, his associates, and so on. No detail is too small. I want to know what he eats for breakfast.”

“If you think it will help…”

“It will. You never know what might be important. Some detail you deem irrelevant could be important in the right hands. I’ve assembled a special intelligence force to track him down. You’ll be giving information to them over the course of several days or weeks. However long it takes.”

“I’ll be interrogated?”

Liam lifted a shoulder indifferently. “Semantics. You’re cooperating. Look at it as an interview.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Give them my number and—”

“That won’t be necessary. You’ll be staying here.”

“But I want to go home…”

“That won’t be possible. Not until your father is apprehended.”

For the first time, a tendril of actual fear threaded its way through her. “You’re keeping me prisoner?”

“Please. You’ll be in one of our finest suites, in the royal wing. My honored guest. Does that sound like a prison?”

“Am I allowed to leave?”

“You just told me you were willing to do whatever it takes to help me bring your father to justice and restore your family’s honor…as well as its money, titles, lands, servants—”

“Yes, alright. I get it.”

“Mara will be assigning a personal guard to you….for your protection, of course.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Of course.”

“You will stay on palace grounds for the duration of the investigation. You will surrender your phone for my IT team to search. It will be returned with the proper programs for monitoring communications. Your mother can visit you here if she likes, but those visits will also be monitored.”

Madeleine’s face flamed red. Her fists clenched at her side. “You’re treating me like a criminal!”

Liam stood, effectively ending the conversation, and strode to the door. “No. If I considered you a criminal, you’d be in a cell in the dungeon. I’m treating you as an asset. One that I expect cooperation from.”

Madeleine slowly rose from her seat and followed him. “I already said I’d cooperate. This is excessive. You don’t need to keep me prisoner!”

Liam paused at the door and leaned into her personal space. “Let me be very clear, Madeleine. If you ever want to see the outside of this palace again, you will cooperate fully with the parameters I’ve put in place. The crown is seizing your parent’s assets, bank accounts, and properties as we speak. When this ordeal is over, you can walk out of here a free woman, a duchess with complete control over your family’s wealth and your public image intact. Or you and your mother can be stripped of citizenship and exiled from the country, penniless. The choice is yours.”

He stepped away from her and pulled the door open to summon Mara. “Take the countess to her suite and make sure she stays there.”

Madeleine, with her gaze fixed on the toe of her two million dollar Tanzanite heels, whispered, “Can I at least send for my clothing?”

Liam’s face broke out in a satisfied grin. “Glad to see you’ve decided to cooperate.” Turning to Mara, he ordered, “Make sure Lady Madeleine gets whatever personal possessions from Fydelia she desires. And don’t forget to relieve her of her phone.”

He stepped back so Madeline could move into the hallway and into Mara’s possession.

Her usual haughty demeanor subdued, she cast a glance back at her former fiancé, hopelessness painted on her face.

Her desperation stirred no sympathy in his heart. His face betrayed no emotion as he shut the door in her face.