#obviously the rich guy is bad cause he steals from poor people

[cressthebest]

so like we all saw robin hood as a child and rooted and cheered for robin, right? then why the hell do people still defend billionaires? it’s the same fucking concept

[vaguely-concerned]

Any tips for a TF POV fic? I want to write one because I too went through a time in my life when I let feelings bounce off cuz that was easier, but I feel like that's not quite on point for him 🤔

God I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about this and they’re all so wordless and frustratingly evasive to me yet (I am in the process of writing a looooooong T.F. POV fic and it gives me much more trouble than Graves POV, probably because as a person I’m quite a lot more like the T.F. Type in real life lol). But yes, here we go, let me try to express some of what I personally try to have as my hm ‘anchor points’ for his perspective. (Heavy disclaimer that these are just my personal & disorganized little musings and by no means the only or ‘correct’ way to read the character!)

- First of all I agree, the image of ‘bouncing off’ doesn’t feel quiteright -- it’s in the right neighbourhood but the wrong address sort of thing, but it’s really hard to come up with a way to explain how I feel the nuance here.

*insert three hours later spongebob meme here* Okay, so the metaphor I came up with is: T.F.’s relationship to emotions is a direct parallel to his relationship to water/the ocean: it’s scary down there, it’s dark, it’s dangerous, and if he should ever be dumb enough to try to go in too deep it’ll kill him dead because boy oh boy on so many levels this man just did not learn how to swim. As far as he’s concerned any sensible person would simply bob along on the surface in a sturdily built boat and try not to think too much about the weird shit that lives down there in the depths. (In this metaphor the layer of artifice and performance so habitual it’s basically integrated into the fabric of his soul is the boat. Y’know, the part that’s Twisted Fate and not just plain ol’ Tobias. I’ll hasten to add that I think both parts of his identity are equally ‘real’ and equally him, but the Twisted Fate part is like… protecting the Tobias part. Keeping him from drowning, as it were. I’m not sure he’d think of it like that himself for the longest time, though, I suspect he has more of a ‘that man is dead’ attitude towards the Tobias part after Graves is gone)

I think what I’m trying to get at is the idea that to him, raw emotion is as hostile and unknowable and unnavigable an ‘environment’ as the deep ocean. (And the only time we see him willingly go there, physically and otherwise, is for Graves, so you know let’s jot that down first of all lol.)

- He seems to genuinely quite like and be interested in people – how they think, what moves and motivates them, their secrets and foibles. So I tend to try to keep the uh ‘detail work’ in his POV focused in that direction. Priority going like 1) people 2) people’s valuables 3) the relative availability of people’s valuables at this moment if you have clever hands and a very charming smile haha

- One of my favourite things about T.F. is that he seems, I don’t know… quite genuinely good-natured beneath it all? If you back him into a corner some sharp and dangerous things peek out (he has survived in his line of heh ‘business’ for like thirty years, and a lot of it on his own), but for the most part and when unthreatened he has a sort of mildly amused and intrigued live-and-let-live attitude to the world even as he’s conning it that I find deeply charming. Which to me ties in with:

- T.F.’s first instinctive reaction to danger (perceived or real) the majority of the time seems to be ‘Flight’. Confrontation and violence are basically his ‘when literally everything else has failed’ options. (As seen prominently in Burning Tides, where he just keeps running and running and the only time he actually starts throwing punches is when he has to because Graves is in immediate danger and they’re backed into a corner. Which feels like it means something huh lol, I often think about what could actually make T.F. angry enough that he would openly express it and that seems to be the most likely angle for it in my eyes.)

- My take on one of the fundamental differences between Graves and T.F. is that Graves has A LOT of feelings but doesn’t quite know it (or more like can’t quite conceptualize it I should say) – he has a hard time identifying or finding vocabulary for feelings that aren’t some shade of anger. Meanwhile T.F. KNOWS he has feelings, he just doesn’t like it, ardently wishes he didn’t, and will do pretty much anything to run away and not have to engage with them haha.

Another important difference: when brought out of equilibrium Graves gets angry, and T.F. gets scared. I have the feeling that beneath it all he’s scared a lot, and it’s why his persona is so oriented towards gaining control in ways where people don’t realize it enough to even think try to take that control away from him until he’s already long gone. Misdirection as a way of life babEY

- This might be too deep in the ‘my WIP/process specific’ territory to really count as general analysis, but I think it’s there in canon too – there’s almost a feeling that he implicitly feels like he has to make up for some fundamental flaw or lack he has at the core? (Not a weird thing for him to end up feeling, considering what happened to him as a kid.) All the rest of him, all the cleverness and style and charm, is there to ‘make up’ for how at the end of the day he’s… wrong somehow. As Graves, who knows him better than anyone, focuses right in on, a coward. And that is CERTAINLY not the whole truth and even Graves in a full rage relents when he sees the effect the accusation has on him and once he gets the actual facts of what happened. But I think that sense of deep unworthiness is what’s stuck with him emotionally. His people left him because there’s something fundamentally lacking and immoral about him. He lost Graves because he’s not good enough, because he’s a coward who leaves people behind. He deserves to be alone. Mix in a ton of survivor’s guilt to taste, and I think you have the like… core emotional wound he’s constructed around.

There’s also something here about fear of profound powerlessness specifically in situations where words, generally his strongest card that’s not a literal card (har har har oh we do have fun here), simply don’t work right at the moment when he needs them to the most – he tried to beg for his people not to leave him behind, he tried to convince Graves to get the hell out with the rest of the crew… and it didn’t work. (In Burning Tides you see he’s given up even trying to explain himself, he just wants Out in whatever way leaves both him and Graves tolerably in one piece, even if he won’t be understood or heard or less alone afterwards. It takes him until like half way through the entire chase to even THINK about just telling Graves the truth. In all fairness to T.F. it probably wouldn’t have worked at that moment, but it does vaguely crack me up that he didn’t even consider it until all of Bilgewater harbor was already burning merrily behind them fhsajkfa)

- He has a little bit of a (perfectly justified considering his background honestly) chip on his shoulder, especially when it comes to powerful or arrogant people. There seems to be a special satisfaction in outsmarting and robbing specifically rich assholes (which would also be the people who have the most to steal, so y’know good times all round). From his short stories and few places in his bio you almost get the feeling that he has a funny sort of Robin Hood-esque sense of lopsided justice about it. (Robin Hood-esque only so far as to define ‘the poor’ as the eternally hard-strapped ‘T.F. & Graves Waistcoats and Cigars Fund’, of course lol)

I think T.F. both has a mind that tends more towards analyzing the big picture and also has more direct experience with like… structural/systemic powerlessness and oppression. So the cons they pull are probably partly how he channels the emotions that arise out of that (and the rest he just represses, like the relatable guy he is haha)

- Graves being back would cause some IMMENSE internal conflict in him, I feel – of course all the feelings of relief and attachment and love, but also… so much of who he is now came about specifically to find a way to deal with Graves being gone, with seemingly just shutting down the entirety of his need for real human companionship or closeness for like a decade, things that are suddenly starting to be brought online again and must be tremendously stressful to deal with when you’ve had it completely suppressed and deadened for so long. He’s put so much into trying to be fundamentally unattached to anything, anywhere, anyone (and there are some things here about perpetually being an outsider his whole life that I can’t quite put into words, but that’s a dimension too.) That sort of psychological self defense mechanism doesn’t just contentedly nod its head and go away just because something good happened one time haha. Probably a work in progress there huh (at least he’s not alone in it now <3)

PLUS some bonus Graves POV observations because man. I love writing him, he’s just a marvel of a man

- I know I call him a dumbass all the time, but in a street smart way I think he’s actually quite clever haha, he just has a bad tendency to get hung up on an idea and get tunnel sight. (I’ve based this a lot on the short stories but see also more recently his Sentinel skin voice lines for good examples: he’s incredibly straightforward in that ‘well obviously if it doesn’t affect me personally I ain’t gonna give it that much thought’ way, but you also have glimpses of surprising insight/shrewdness and… I don’t quite know how to put it, but something like an ability to get to the bottom line of something without getting caught up in the details. (I suspect T.F. does find himself lost in the details quite frequently, he’s much more attached to the decorative curlicues of the world.) Graves clearly & frequently has no idea what’s going on, but he strips things down to the essentials very quick: Lucian’s story as a direct thematic mirror to Viego’s, Is There A Sun Lady – Oh, I See, all of this is weird and creepy and needs shooting, and maybe most crucial of all: Isolde doesn’t want to be with her husband anymore so what he’s doing is just like. Extra shitty. He gets what he needs to get and then just barges ahead heedlessly with that. Icon.)

- He’s actually pretty darn eloquent in a gruff sort of way and uses some quite sophisticated vocabulary! And the way this is contrasted with the tendency to slip into blunter coarser language just as readily -- like when he takes the time to describe the monster that takes down the Prince’s ship in such poetic terms as ‘gargantuan’ and ‘the behemoth’s immense, distended jaw’ and it having ‘pallid dead eyes the size of the moon’, and meanwhile during his swim at the beginning of the story we get bastard cold and bastard dark and full of bastard jellyfish and crabs – brings me such immense and unending delight

- He’s more eloquent in his internal voice than he is when speaking (especially noticeable in Destiny and Fate; he does have a tendency to fumble his words when talking lol), and he gets quite easily lost in his own meandering reflective musings in a way I find incredibly endearing. I’d almost call it whimsical at times, honestly, hilarious as that is? Like when he’s literally so absorbed in a line of thought he forgets which way they’re rowing and T.F. has to remind him. (I think T.F. generally has more of a grip of what’s going on around them than Graves does lol)

- There’s an important distinction to be made that Graves actually does, by and large, read T.F: very closely and seemingly also pretty damn accurately. He’s good at (and clearly very interested in) reading his moods, spotting what tactics he’s using interpersonally, when he’s being genuine and when he’s being dissembling.

What Graves is actually bad at is understanding his own emotions, and to not bleed those emotions into other people’s motivations and behavior, especially when he’s upset or in heightened states of feeling, like he is all the way through Burning Tides. He can only name his own feelings in a vocabulary of anger, when it’s pretty clear from the subtext that there’s a whole bunch of other stuff going on there, and he has incredible trouble divorcing those feelings from what other people’s got going on with them right then. He feels hurt, betrayed, and undone by everything that’s happened to him, so the intention to hurt, betray and undo must live in the other person who he feels caused it. In less drastic cases you see him do this a bit when he feels like T.F. is being evasive with him – taking it as a form of rejection rather than realizing T.F. is just lost in his own thoughts, sort of thing. There’s a real improvement in this one between Burning Tides and Destiny and Fate, though, so maybe he’ll have an easier time of it with some time and practice.

Sorry it took so long to get back to you on this and that it’s a bit of a rambling mess, words have been real hard recently. Or rather I have too many words, all the time, left and right, I just can’t put them into the right orders to make any sense hahaha, I hope there’s some useful point in this somewhere for you at least!

[dafukdidiwatch]

Fantasy High Rant (and why you should watch it)

Ok I got suggested this and I cant believe I've been sleeping on this series in the last two years. This series is freaking fantastic! I’m screaming.

Overview is this is a modern d&d fantasy land a la Onward Style, where we follow fantasy Scooby Doo gang as they try to solve the mystery of missing students while interacting with the fantastical citizens of Spyre.

I hella love it, because while it has such a great mystery of whats going on in the town, who is doing what and why, etc etc, and it just GROWS the more you watch it. You think it was something simple, but the conspiracy rabbit hole gets deeper and deeper. But to me the main pull is just seeing how our Party just interacts with everyone and each other. This is a very character driven series, which makes sense this is a d&d party, you have to get attached to the party if you want them to work together.

Fabian Seacaster: God he’s fun to watch. The rich kid high class type of character but is just has so much gusto. I love his relationship with his family, it’s adorable. He just adores his parents and his parents adore him back. Like Addams style adoration. He is a bit full of himself and arrogant and has a thing of living up to his father's legacy as well as his family name, but I think his arc is him learning that he doesn't have to define himself through his dad and can be his own person. Plus my favorite moments are him screaming “WHAT IS HAPPENING” because out of everyone he mostly the straight man dealing with people.

Gorgug: I just love him. He is just so sweet. He is just a gentle giant and confused all the time. I feel so bad that he keeps getting the shit end of the stick to save the rest of the party. Like the whole "stealing backpack" shit to basically set him up as the outcasts of outcasts. Granted I’m laughing my ass off when it happens, but he is just so anxious it’s cute. He is just very sweet and genuine, even if he is a little awkward. I also love him just asking if people are his dad lol he just wants to know. But when he rages he’s basically God-Tier Shaggy. 

Fig: lol her angsty teenage years finding out she isn't who she thought she was. Tbf her dad basically said she was the reason for her parents divorce soooo take that as you will. Her being the "bad girl" but also very helpful when she can is great. Her flirtatious punk attitude, the winking, and rocking bard stuff. I low key like the idea of her being with Gorgug because of the moments in Barbarian class and giving him drumsticks. And I also like her with Fabian as just a wild cool kid power couple. Also her fucking with Goldenhoarde is the best with her being sexual,with him. Its super funny.

Riz: I freaking love him. Kid detective on the case. The business cards for friendship which I mean, makes sense. His goal from day one was to find the missing girls and babysitter. I'm sorry he has a poor house to use water cereal, but his mom just loves him and I think that’s sweet. His family is the coolest and he isn’t afraid to admit how cool his family is. But he has direction, he has a mission, and he does it with determination. Plus I love how he is The Ball and everyone is just going with it and now supports it. Him fucking with Fabian is great. And I'm glad he is reconsidering his life choices after meeting the AV kids.

Adaine: She needs help. The panicking one. I mean, her family,obviously looks down on her and she is literally jealous of all the other kids parents (love the gnomes). She is learning to find her own magic her own way and trying to shatter the expectation forced on her. God I support her just fucking people up, especially with Pixie Boy.She is just trying to deal with things which honestly this adventure is getting her to open up and not take shit. Character Arc: Don’t Take Shit.

Kristen: I’m just watching a train wreck here. Like she was 100% Helios all the way. But now it is just watching her questioning everything about religion after dying. Its amazing from looking into other religion herself and just how it ALL escalates from there as she is pulled further and further away from her religion and old life. Learning that how she was raised was just so fucked. Like I'm just seeing how far this goes and if she will pick another god instead or just not be a cleric anymore.

Also I'm like never going to post a completed version of this post because I’m way too fucking obsessed. I went from ep 8 yelling about Kristen’s religious life to episode 13 plot-twist end. I basically am physically restraining myself from watching episode 15 before I type this or else this will never be typed. I can literally go off about all the characters there is just so many good moments.

Basically, check out the show yourself. It’s on Youtube, it’s hilarious. Watching the reactions and faces is just so much fun to see. 100% recommend.

Now excuse me while I scream spoilers for episode 8/13/14 underneath:

Midway through Ep 8:

Ok it was fucking Kristen! Like not her obviously, but she was the hellmouth! She was the initial sacrifice! Demon-Dad Garthox said that the Hellmouth can be opened inside a person, and Goth Kid Blane was working for the Harvestmen Helios to get that page. And lo and behold the page was in the corn vat that Kristen's book was pushed into! Coincidence? I think not!

They thought that it was somehow Adaine's magic that caused it, or the very least it was the bully,guy who chucked Kristen's book in. But no, the page was already inside her book and fell into the corn! If bully ass McGee didn't hit the book out of her hands, then she might have been the victim! Which makes sense, why not have a follower of Helios bring the end times in His name.

Which means that it could be Daybreak or her parents that gave her the page in her bible for this.

God,is this what Helios meant when it "wasn't her time?" Because she is needed as the Hellmouth Sacrifice?

And this makes the whole "sneaking into heaven" part make sense now. If Aguefort was trying to be assassinated by Helios, he could sneak into Helios Heaven and spy on them from the afterlife. He's a weird ass man I'm sure he can pull it off.

Also Fig's Dad is hella cool and I totally love him for,trying to be a parent and mature about this. Fig is totally supportive of him and I love it.

Ok I'm going back to finish episode 8 I just REALLY needed to rant about that.

Screaming about Episode 13:

The oracle was going to return,if the country was in danger. It was but she was,kidnapped/killed on an illusion ship to stop,her. Rix dad is a spy and he was 100%,super dope about it and him just finding his family secrets I was just crying like, he found his legacy, his entire family was,badasses he was so happy and took up his dad's gun for justice. Like how cool is it for a goblin spy,being small and already default evil to infiltrate that is so clever. That is what gets me on this show,is that they take these cool setting and ideas and how they are twisted to fit the fantasy. Cops? Fantasy cops. Skateboarders? Fantasy skateboarders.

Which lets be real, I think the best battle where they really,worked together was during the skateboarders.

This mystery is building and building and I,guess Penelope is,trying to,be queen,via homecoming queen which is,weird and has a Sarah berry vibe to,it. Which is fucking nuts.

Now I’m wondering if nice guy,pixie actually was in on it day 1, or if he was turned over after he was "beaten" like the bad guys offered him a way to make his dream girls his 2D pets. Which, gross. But Biz part doesn't necessarily fit with the main plot. He obv isn't behind this.

Kalvaxus is a demon with money. His money needs to be destroyed. So they are funneling his money through the banks. They used his ship in disguise to kidnap/capture/kill the oracle to prevent her from returning, which she said she would if the country was in danger. Yes the religious Harvestmen wanted to start the apocalypse via Kristen, but ass-elf diplomat said it wouldn't really work, but it would break the treaty and start war. Kalvaxus. Coach Daybreak had control,on Zane, who had control over Johnny Spells to kidnap girls, and since Alwin had a spell to find "maidens/virgins" they need the girls, either as a sacrifice or as conduits to power the arcane source. Was all of this to raise Kalvaxus from hell to the mortal world? That would explain the power source at the arcade with the trapped girls, to keep the connection going. The only,thing I can think,as to why Penelope would be as high up as she is in this conspiracy is if Kalvaxus is her dad. Which I guess,everyone has dad issues in,this group.

Side note, I appreciate how Gorgug thinks himself as,dumb but gets really smart ideas and the whole party agreed they are smart. Like,he was the first to,put 2 and 2 together about Kalvaxus== KVX bank, even if he didn't outright say it.

All,the adults are really,enjoyable,to see. I fucking love Rix’s mom shes so cool. And Gilear is actually really,pitifully funny. I wouldn't think I would like,him as much after that first episode, but he is actually hilarious being the lunch lad and just trying his best.

Live Screaming Episode 14 (lots of incoherent):

fucking He'll Riz got the drop on Biz but he fumbled the attack with a nat1.

Ah shit! This is their shit! The prizes are the girls shit as trophies. Zelda headphones. Skateboard girl. You need to give the items back!!!

Fig's German Shepard patrol finally works out

And Riz is now in Penny's game, oh this hurts because this is the girl that he wants to help.

Biz is like a terrible chucky cheese mascot.

I love it when Fabian says "whats happening" because for all his rich person elegance his bafflement amuses me.

It's so sad to see these girls just be this, shadow of themselves. Like no personality at all.

Adaine does will with the divination rolls, I don't think I,could be able to,do this that well.

Damn they are taking the girls,into the power source, they need girl power. Literally.

Gorgug is just so sweet to call his parents for help. Too bad it didn't work. Its a gnome game, sweet.

damn this is a lot more dangerous than before. This is why we don't split the party.

Make Gorgug fly again that would be awesome. But Adaine flying is good too.

Riz using his gremlin powers to fuck up the parascepts from the inside is fucking amazing, why the hell is it funneling to the school.

Sucks that Fabian just kept running all the way out the building. But lets say Fabian having that motorcycle is just so op. Plus it called him Daddy let's not forget that.

Gorgug using the headphones with Zelda’s music is just so sweet and clever. See hes a simple man but very smart. Practical I think.

Lol only the guys got sucked into the game. No girls in video game.

The Bebe raises Gorgug’s rage. Riz is right: hot topic vs av nerds.

Where is devil dad, like he wasn't kidnapped or kidnapped figs mom or whatever right??? Like i get suspicious when people don't respond immediately.

OMG Gorgug is God Tier Shaggy.

Biz is doing the Fantasy Truffle Shuffle.

Cut his wings Gorgug!

Riz!!! Keep her here!!! FUCK!!! HE DIDN'T!!! Biz is soooo creepy.

Yes! Keep the ghosts so sad I would love the bag of holding but too bad it didn't work.

Gorgug’s parents are just so freaking sweet and supportive.

Hold shit Gorgug’s honesty got him double crit. That sucks but I lowkey hope he keeps the white hair.

That motorcycle is so op. But hes in a racing game with the hangman, at least he has an advantage.

Kristen's philosophers are just so op. I love how her religion is just searching for eternal knowledge.

NAT 20 THE NAT 20 FUCKING YES LETS GO RIZ JUST FLIPPING IT OFF AND SCREAMING FUCK YOU holy,shit that was funny. Too bad it was wasted on such a dumbass moment.

Just smashed the palimpsest that's how the owlbear popped out. Wow it was hilarious how biz popped out. But holy,shit Riz not even giving biz a chance as he starts shooting off fingers that’s amazing

I love them fucking with him because hes an ass. Oh, Alwin modify memory to make him think it was his evil plan. You know still fuck him tho. Ugh are those pictures. No. They know it was the group and photos of their house. Ughhhhh and now things are getting more dangerous,

[iwritethat]

Damian Wayne: Expectations

A/N: I have no idea where this came from but I wrote it anyway.

Warnings: Like 1 swear word

>>>>——————————>

Life in Gotham could be difficult, horrific and down right dangerous - so like any other kid who had been living it rough you turned to crime. Firstly creating an alias for yourself equip with fitted black costume as the colour made it easier to move through Gotham at night, it consisted of a hood and bandana to cover your face and conceal your identity. You took up minor theft, so by the time you reached your teenage years you were now a seasoned professional - you had perfected 'slight of hand', acquired fighting skills as well as being very good with disguising yourself to gain entrance to otherwise unreachable areas/events.

Most of the time it was thievery from those who seemed more wealthy, you considered it better to steal from the wealthier population rather than the poor as they would need their money more - though you were a criminal you did have some values intact. This time however was unusual, Catwoman had asked for your assistance on a job, you had met Catwoman before on numerous occasions and got on quite well but you didn't expect her to ever ask for your help, clearly she thought very highly of your abilities.

As a result, after robbing a museum of a cat sculpture you found yourself standing on a rooftop waiting for the promised payment your partner was currently handing you.

"Catwoman, you're going to have to return that." A deep voice sounded from behind you, sending a string of curse words through your head.

Surprise surprise, you turned to find the Dark Knight accompanied by Robin who had joined you on the building.

"Who are you?" The sidekick asked bluntly taking a step toward you.

"Hm, wouldn't you like to know?" You quickly replied, matching the arrogant tone meanwhile Catwoman looked genuinely amused. Your temporary partner, clearly unwilling to simply hand over the stolen goods, began to flirt with Batman - apparently reoccurring behaviour judging by Robins foul expression.

"They do this often then?" You commented, observing the two adults.

"Too often. You still didn't answer my question thief." Robin replied, getting into a defensive stance mirroring his mentor.

"It's (v/n) - thief is just rude birdboy." You earned a growl before he came at you with his katana.

Though you weren't specifically trained in any martial arts, you picked up a thing or two by watching others or brief involvements with street gangs which allowed you to hold your own somehow. Instinctively, you pulled out your daggers to clash with the oncoming blade before kicking Robin in the abdomen and running for it. Successfully, you made your escape without being followed equip with money from Catwoman and so, you made you way 'home'.

.

Over the next few weeks, you had various encounters with Robin which you found peculiar as there were far more dangerous villains out there that required his attention but here he was again - confronting you about the deal you’d just completed, selling off a rich mans watch for a very good price.

"Why are you doing this?" The vigilante asked, arms crossed as he blocked your path.

"Because it pays well? I'm not quite sure what you expected." You sarcastically remarked, scanning the area for an exit.

"You seem like a good person, from my observations you only rob the wealthy. You should use your skills for something more productive." He commented, noticing your glare.

"Uh huh. You're like the same age as me Robin, you can't tell me what I should be doing. Besides, I didn't have the perfect life, I highly doubt you grew up on the streets - you can't exactly get 'productive' with that, I wouldn't have these skills otherwise. So sorry hero! If this was all part of the ‘turning me to the good side’ plan - you've failed." You defended, venom lacing your tone despite the mockery situated there. It was possible that you were a little harsh but you didn't need this at the moment, you had somewhere urgent to be.

Robin released a frustrated sigh meanwhile you put your plan of escape into action, you hopped onto the dumpster to the left, grabbing the metal ladder that lead to the staircase running up the side of the apartments. You slipped through an open window muttering a string of apologies as you ran through the now startled woman's apartment and out the front door, you made your way out of the building through the fire escape.

Checking your surroundings you discovered you'd lost the Batman's sidekick allowing relief to flood your body, though you were growing more suspicious - it shouldn't be that easy to escape Robin but it was almost like he let you get away in all of the times you'd encountered him after your first meeting. You had seen him fight other villains on the news and take them down with a degree of brutality, yet with you things never escalated to that level. Robin was obviously a better fighter and had beat you many times, brought you the police station handcuffed at least twice but never really hurt you.

Shaking your head out of the trance, you entered the old corner shop you'd made your way to and collected the items you needed. Walking over to the familiar owner of the small shop, you were greeted with a warm smile, you'd expect a form of hostility from anyone else considering your vigilante attire but upon visiting the shop on multiple occasions they soon realised you weren't a threat and never caused any trouble.

"Quite a lot of chocolate today (v/n)." The owner commented politely, knowing exactly what it was for.

"Mhm, everyone deserves a treat now and then - even me." You replied handing over some of the recently attained cash and taking the bag of items. Next you intended to return 'home'.

Unbeknownst to you Robin was tailing you, Damian was undeniably curious about you for some strange reason and had decided to follow you this time. After finding out about part of your childhood he wanted to understand why you did this, he assumed you had a home with an unstable background/parent and provided financial support though soon realised he was somewhat mistaken.

Once you left the store now carrying a bag you made your way to an old apartment building, Damian continued to follow, watching from the building opposite as you entered one of the 4th floor apartments. The area of Gotham was quite run down meaning rent wasn't expensive and you managed to maintain clean, suitable living conditions despite your situation.

"(Y/N) is back!" A young voice yelled, filled with excitement as you strolled through, placing the bag on the table.

Damian was puzzled, a small group of young children raced over to your figure which was soon lost in an array of hugs, one jumped on your back another two hugged your sides while others screamed with enjoyment.

"Yeah yeah, I missed you kids too." You happily greeted, kneeling down causing them to slowly release you.

Robin perched in the darkness now connecting everything together, you pulled down your hood and then removed your bandana, revealing your identity. Damian was stunned, the dim lighting highlighted your features perfectly and the smile you wore made you all the more beautiful.

"What did you bring us this time (y/n)?!" One girl chirped, standing hopefully in front of you.

"Hmm, well I brought some fruit, vegetables, soap, toothpaste..." You playfully listed, though the kids were grateful, they weren't exactly ecstatic to hear about the vegetables.

"And chocolate!" You grinned, excitement lacing your voice - pulling it out of the bag, the children immediately erupted into squeals and cheers taking a bar each.

Robin took this opportunity to slip through the window behind you making his presence known with a cough. You froze for a second, knowing that he probably knew you're identity now and where you lived - still, you recovered and turned around, the kids also taking notice of the unfamiliar company.

"Shit!" A child yelled from behind you, panic evident.

"Jake - language!" You whisper yelled, the children now gathered behind you.

"You're in a lot of trouble (v/n)." Robin sternly stated.

To your surprise a young girl quickly stepped in front of you spreading out her arms as a guard.

"No Robin! You can't take her away, I know she's bad sometimes but she only does it for us. Please don't take her to prison!" The girl pleaded, tears welling in her eyes.

Next was the boy, Jake, who ran to your side (chocolate long forgotten) and grabbed your arm.

"She isn't a hero like you or - or Batman but she's not a bad guy!" He claimed, also jumping to your defence.

"Yes! (V/N) is our hero, (y/n) protects us like you protect other people s-so there!" Another girl argued from behind you.

You and Robin were both shocked at the children's reactions, you found it heartwarming that they were defending you before one of their biggest heroes yet weren’t sure if their testimony’s would’ve be valid enough.

"I'm not taking (y/n) to prison." Robin boredly sighed, though he probably should - but you hadn't committed crimes at the same severity as the Penguin and you had legit reasons, so he took the opportunity to persuade you to take a more legal route.

Upon hearing Robin's assurance, the children calmed themselves dissipating into the apartment, finding suitable places to watch the scene unfold. You crossed your arms leaning on a nearby counter and looked to Robin expectantly - not having anything to say yourself.

"This is why you do it then?" He inquired, but it came off as more of a statement.

You nodded, observing the 3 children sitting on the couch while others scattered through the apartment.

"I try to take care of them when they need me, I'm pretty sure they live on the streets so I provide for them the best I can when they come to stay. But when they do, I need extra cash - with studying and my job I can just afford rent and the basics for myself. I steal so they don't have to, I want them to grow up 'good' I suppose." Robin listened carefully as he too looked at the children.

Silence.

"So... There you have it bird boy, I grew up on the streets but want them to have a better life than I had. The end." You calmly explained, your tone getting more defensive as you went on.

"You're not what I expected." Robin admitted confidently.

"Oh really? And what did you expect?" You countered, smiling with a challenging hint to your voice.

"It doesn't matter. I think you could be of assistance to me, obtain information and getting into secured areas etc. In exchange I can offer my assistance." The sidekick clearly proposed, observing the consideration dashing across your features.

"...Maybe.”

.

Within the next few weeks that's how it happened, you would assist Robin on select cases and in return he'd bring over extra supplies for any kids that decided to visit. Today was one of those days, you came in from work to find the children swarming around Robin who probably had to leave for patrol. Upon seeing you they rushed over with hugs and "Welcome home!"s before returning to their activities.

"What did you bring them this time Robin?" You curiously greeted, he threw the bag over to you which was effortlessly caught, after looking inside you nodded and placed it on the counter.

Out of gratitude, you made way to Robin and gave him a hug to display such thankfulness as you felt words weren’t quite enough this time.

"Thanks for everything bird boy." You added and pulled away from him.

"You're welcome?" Robin replied, still bewildered due to the sudden contact that it sounded as though he was questioning himself.

"So are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?" One of the girls mischievously inquired appearing out of nowhere.

"Uh - n-no. No." You briskly stuttered knowing you were blushing and attempted to conceal it to the best of your ability.

"(Y/N) is very beautiful but we are not dating." Robin answered in a much less embarrassing manner compared to you. You flushed deeper upon hearing the compliment, of course the sidekick quickly noticed your behaviour causing a smirk to appear.

Robin headed toward the window to leave for his previously mentioned patrol, though the young girl followed him and gently tugged on his cape gaining his attention.

She moved her hand to the side of her mouth so only Robin could hear her whisper "I think you should ask her out!"

"TT, I will." He assured her before disappearing into the night, finding that he’d have to learn to expect the unexpected when it came to your mismatched adopted family.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“I’m in, I’m all in” - Jason Todd x Single!Mom reader part 5/5

And here we are, the end of this series. I really enjoyed writing it haha. Well, obviously since this was supposed to be a ONE SHOT and turned into a...Five part series haha. Anyway, I really hope you like this last part, and thanks to y’all for all the reactions to this series, it was really motivating and encouraging <3.

FINISHED SERIES : PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4  NEWLY ADDED EPILOGUE : PART 1/3

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________

A few weeks before Viggo’s kidnapping :

Jess’ can’t catch his breath, as they take his head out of the dirty rain water they were drowning him in. He coughs some filthy liquid, but just as he barely catches his breath they dip him in once more. 

And again. And again. And again. 

Each time, he almost drowns, but not completely. It’s pure torture. 

“This’ll teach you to not pay your debt.” 

He hears one of the thug who keeps plunging his head into the water say. And here we go again, face first into the shallow puddle. 

How humiliating it is as well, to be drowned in that way, in a dirty puddle, behind an old warehouse...Oh ? This time, the thugs don’t hold his head under water as long as the others, and Jess is able to catch his breath faster. 

His mind is racing as he begs : 

“Wait wait wait !” 

He didn’t actually want to do that but...This was his last chance of survival. His last chance to get out of the mess he put himself in. So what if others have to suffer because of him ? 

Now sure, he never wanted to ever involve you in his life again, not after he left without a word, but right now..The situation was hopeless, without you. 

And so, Jess heard himself say : 

“Wait wait wait ! I-I have an old buddy of mine who recently got in contact with me ! He wanted some- cough - some information about my ex fiancee !” 

The two thugs who were waterboarding him look at their boss, a sinister smirk on their faces. Said boss, Antonio Falcone of the Falcone family, arguably the most powerful mafia in Gotham (if it wasn’t for those damn Maronis), shakes his head, exasperated at the poor attempt of this guy to save his life.

He owed them hundred of thousands of dollars, and couldn’t pay them. If it was just a couple thousands, they would have broken his legs and made him do odd jobs for them to make it up to them once he healed...But that Jess ? 

He owed them more than most of the people that borrowed money from them REUNITED ! It was outrageous. And somehow, that sleazy motherfucker always got away with getting more and more money, while never paying it back. 

But it had been going on for long enough. 

Antonio wouldn’t let that go. Couldn’t. Especially not since he was in a good line to get up in ranks. At least, according to his uncle, Carmine Falcone, the Don of the family ! 

Having a guy owing them that much money in his district was bad publicity. He couldn’t let that go. He gestured for his thugs to waterboard him some more before finally ending it, but that annoying little man kept on going : 

“He’s a paparazzo you see ? He takes picture of...Well you know what paparazzi are ! Well he took picture of that woman, who was hanging out with the Waynes, you see ?” 

The Waynes ? As in “Bruce Wayne” ? Richest family in Gotham ? Antonio Falcone stopped the thugs from drowning that poor excuse of a man and said :

“What about them ?” 

“Well my buddy wanted to know if- cough- if the woman was her. My ex. My ex fiancee. And it was, it was ! He had pictures of her kissing one of the eldest Wayne boys, that Jason guy, the one whom everyone thought died ! And she has a son ! I mean...”

A light came on in Jess’ minds. Yes. Of course. Why didn’t he think of that before ? Yes. They would be his salvation ! 

“Yeah ! It was her ! And my son ! And they were close to the Waynes ! I have pictures, I can prove it to you ! I’m sure we can...I’m sure we can come up with some sort of a plan so I can get your money, and even more, thanks to them ! I have hundreds of pictures taken of them being the entire day together, and clearly being close ! We know Bruce Wayne already paid ransom before, even if Batman had to get into it and ruined things but...I’m sure we can be smarter ! I’m sure we can have a plan ! A man like you, mister Falcone, surely is smart enough to get away with it ! As long as nobody gets hurt and we plan things smoothly, it should be fine, right ? We-I mean you, could go away from this much richer than you were before !”

Jess surely had a good self-preservation instinct, as he instantly switched to flattery and...Well, it always worked very well on “Mister Falcone”.  

Antonio Falcone looked upon that miserable man with disdain, but with also some kind of new found respect. A man willing to sell his own kid to save his life ? Well, it was someone he could relate to haha. After all, he didn’t hesitate to kill his own father to climb up in ranks...

And Jess said his ex-fiancee and his son were hanging out with the Waynes huh ? Well. Well well well. 

As much as he disliked that that asshole would get away with owing them that much money once again, Antonio had to admit that they needed Jess to come up with a plan that would keep everything “bat free” and smooth...

Oh, this could actually turn an embarrassing situation into a way of shining in front of the boss ! 

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

A few hours before Red Hood tries to save Viggo : 

And this is how a plan came to life. A nasty plan, made by cowards. A plan to steal a child from his family, just so they could have money. 

But for what it was worth, Viggo was never supposed to be hurt. Plus the Waynes ? What would a couple of millions do to their bank accounts ? They were all filthy rich ! 

Jess tried to rationalize his bad decisions after bad decisions, tried to shift the blame on others, as he always did. Besides in the end, he was still alive. And that’s really all that mattered to him right now. So what if they bribed a couple of judges and lawyer, and go the kid’s custody thanks to that ? 

Only there was a little problem in their perfectly laid out plan...That goddamn child being way too curious and hearing things he shouldn’t have ! 

“COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BRAT !!”

Never before Viggo had been that afraid, as he heard “his father”’s steps grow closer and closer. He rushed as fast as he could down the stairs, almost falling over and breaking his neck. He jumped over the last two steps, and ran to the bathroom he saw when he first came in the house. 

He snatched the home phone on his way. He figured that trying to escape through the front door was stupid, as he saw Jess closing it earlier. Plus where was he gonna run to anyway ? In Gotham’s street ? At this hour, no one would take notice of him and Jess would catch up too fast...

But barricading himself in the bathroom with the phone ? He had a chance to warn someone ! To say what was happening, and get some help !

Jess was right on his heels as Viggo closed the bathroom door. 

“Open up right now, Viggo ! This isn’t what you think !” 

Jess said, banging loudly on the door. Viggo scoffed and answered : 

“Oh yeah ? Well what is it then ?!” 

Silence. Two more bangs, grunts and bad words, and then...total silence. 

Viggo didn’t wait for an answer or anything, as he typed his mom’s number on the home phone. He also figured that there was no point in calling 911. 

First, in Gotham, they were always very slow. And second, what was gonna happen once they arrived ? Jess would tell them about winning custody not long ago, about being his dad, and the cops wouldn’t believe anything he would say. Because custody battles ? They were always pretty nasty so...

If anything could be said about Viggo (Y/L/N), it was that he wasn’t stupid. 

Jess was quiet outside of the room, which was pretty worrying. He gave up way too fast trying to open the door...But Viggo’s mind, no matter how smart that little boy was, wasn’t thinking about that right now. 

No, instead, he was praying for you to just pick up and quick ! Tears were slowly gathering in his eyes, as he was slowly realizing that he might be in really big troubles, and he just wanted to see you...

Your phone rung a  few times before it went to your voice mail. Viggo’s heart stopped. No. No already ?! 

It was late, you were at work. You didn’t answer your phone when at work. At least not when it was an unknown number. If it was your best friend, or whoever babysat your son, you’d answer immediately, but a random number you never saw before, such as Jess’ home phone ? Nope...

Especially when working at the bar, like tonight. You might have not even heard your phone ringing ! 

He left a message, hurriedly talking about what he heard Jess say on the phone, talking about the Falcone and all. And then hung up. He tried to call a few times, but he knew there was not much hope...

Now, Viggo really wanted to cry. He felt so helpless, and it had been such a tough day ! Making his luggage to follow a dad he never even met before, only to realize that this was all a scam of some sort...

It was a lot, for a little eight years old boy ! 

But that said little eight year old wasn’t one to give up easily, and so he started to call the next person he first thought of. 

Jason.

He knew Jason’s number by heart, and typed it on the phone, sure that the man would rush to his aid no matter what he said ! There was NO WAY Jason wouldn’t come to help. Even if he wasn’t with his mom anymore, Viggo was convinced that he’d rush to his aid anyway ! 

And if Jason didn’t pick up, cause it was late ? He could always call the Manor ! Or Bruce ! The man gave him his number last time, when they ate ice cream and all, before his mom came back. He said : “call whenever you want, whenever you need” ! Yes, Yes Viggo would just...

A loud bang, a gunshot, made him jump in the air, scared and...What ? 

The door handle fell on the floor, fuming slowly. Smoke filled the small bathroom quickly, as the door opened on two large men holding guns and...

“Are you kidding us, Jess ? Really ?” 

“What ? The little fucker is fast ok ? I couldn’t grab him before he locked himself in there. I tried to bust the door open but I couldn’t.”

The two men shook their head, exasperated. One grabs Viggo, but the little one wasn't ready to get caught without a fight. He kicked him as hard as he could in-between his legs. The man let him go, and fell to his knees, holding his crotch and whining something along the line of “motherfucker”.  

Viggo tried to escape again, and he almost succeeded as Jess was just staring at him dumbly but...The second stranger grabbed him. He laughed and said : 

“Haha that kid has more courage than you’ll ever have Jess ! And he’s definitely smarter than you. Are you sure he’s yours ?” 

Jess just glared back but didn’t say anything. Now the man was pointing at the phone that escaped Viggo’s hand when he got surprised, understanding that the kid tried to call someone. 

“Did you manage to get anyone on the line ?” 

He asked, as he roughly lifted Viggo by his shirt. Your boy tried to struggle more, but the man was too strong and with his free hand stopped him from squirming. Keeping a face full of pride, and trying to look very unimpressed, Viggo said : 

“Yeah I did. And they’ll be here to kick your ass very soon !” 

Of course, that was a lie. But they didn't know that, did they ? 

The man took the phone from the floor and lifted it to his ear. The answering machine from Wayne Manor was just ending on a “Wayne are not here, please leave a message if you must”. The man hung up, whistled, and said : 

“Ah, well damn, he’s really related to the Waynes too somehow ! Damn Jess, who would’ve thought you’d be the one leading us to a treasure like that huh ?”

“I told you didn’t I ? There literally were hundreds of pictures of her kissing that Jason Todd guy, and of my boy here playing with the two youngest Waynes !” 

“I’m not your boy !” 

Viggo yelled, angry, twisting his head to look at Jess, daggers shooting out of his eyes while still being stuck in that man’s arms. Said man laughed again and said : 

“Well kid, if it’s any consolation, you’re definitely nothing like that coward. You, have got spirit. He, sold you to save his own life haha. How’d that make you feel ?” 

Why ? Why was that man twisting the knife further into Viggo’s heart ? The little boy already understood that his own father was doing something very fishy, but knowing that he was selling him to those guys ? That was...well, actually, that didn’t feel as bad as Viggo thought it would. 

It was in fact some sort of relief ? To know that that Jess was nothing of a father ! To know that he didn’t actually want to be part of his life, and that he didn’t have to forget...Oh, but THAT did hurt. The pang in his chest as he realized he wished Jason was there, that HE was the dad he always wanted. 

But hey, maybe that it was clear that Jess was an asshole, Jason would come back, realizing that he still had his place in the picture ? 

It was funny, that Viggo’s mind wandered to the one he wanted so bad to be his dad, as he was carried away by two scary strangers, and thrown in a car. 

“So what am I doing now ?” 

Jess asked, and one of the thug turned to him and said : 

“You call her tomorrow and then...Nothing. If this all deal goes well you’ll never hear from us again. If it goes sideways however...”

Leaving the threats flying in the air, he climbed into the front seat with a dangerous smirk, and Jess gulped. The other man, the one whose balls’ Viggo kicked, rubbed his crotch a bit and was about to climb in the car too, in front of the wheel, when Jess stopped him : 

“Hey, you’re not gonna hurt the kid right ?”

“Why, you got attached to him or something ?”

“No, I never wanted kids. But he...He didn't do anything ok ?” 

“No he didn’t, and yet he’s paying for his father’s sins. How unfair life is right ?”

“But you’re not gonna hurt him right ? It’s not part of the plan.” 

“Him kicking me in the nuts wasn’t part of the plan either. And him knowing our plan, wasn’t part of the plan. Oh, and us being here that early to pick the kid up ? Definitely not part of the plan. All that because you couldn’t find a quiet place to call Antonio. You fucking idiot. So now, who knows what will happen right ?” 

There’s a silence, and Jess suddenly feels sick. Sure, so far he didn’t really think of anything else but saving his own skin, and he worked so hard to try and get close to you again...but then you destroyed all his attempts and they had to retort to going to court and now...Now slowly, Jess realized what he had done. 

But it was too late now. Anyway, was it really that big of a secret, that he was a piece of shit ? After all, he left his pregnant fiancee fending on her own just because he couldn’t face her and say it was too much for him ! Still, one last time Jess says : 

“Nothing will go according to plan, if you hurt the kid.” 

The man doesn’t answer, as he just smiles and climb into the front seat. And slowly, they drive away. Jess’ eyes caught Viggo’s terrified gaze as he was taken away, and a sudden pang of regret took over his heart...

Up until he realized that he still was able to feel his heart beating thanks to that kid. And to his ex, you, who happened to be linked to the Waynes. Plus, that guy was just trying to scare him, of course they weren’t going to hurt the kid ! They needed him in one piece, if they wanted the money ! 

And with a sigh, Jess went back into his house. He just had to wait until the next day to call you and say they had your son and all that, and this all nightmare would finally be over. FiNALLY. 

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

The present : 

Jason’s heart drops. His blood freeze. His mind goes blank.

Viggo wasn’t breathing. And his skin was so cold.

No. No no no no no. Please god no. Everything but this.

Not Viggo. Not his precious little boy. No…

But no matter what Jason was doing, his CPR didn’t seem to work. And the kid was growing colder and colder.

“No ! No ! Come on Viggo ! Come on boy, please ! Please don’t leave me !”

The boy was unresponding. His lips were blue.

“Don’t go please don’t go ! You can’t go ! You can’t leave your mom ! You can’t leave me ! Please, please !”

But Viggo wasn’t breathing. Wasn’t moving. And his skin was know frighteningly cold. His eyes weren’t opening…and he wasn’t breathing.

“Come on, come on breathe. Breathe…Come on, son, BREATHE !!”

A minute went by, and Jason knew the situation was dire. How many more minutes until the boy would have permanent brain damage ? And...What if he didn’t wake up ? 

No. No no no. This wasn’t possible. Viggo couldn’t die ! His little boy couldn’t die !! 

Jason, tears in his eyes, kept on giving him CPR, with the desperation of a man who would do anything to save his child. 

“Come on, come one Viggo, come back to me ! Come on, you’re a fighter right ! Come on, come back ! Please ! Please son, come back !” 

Another minute went by. And Viggo was still not breathing, growing colder and colder and...

Three little coughs. 

Jason’s breath caught. 

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

A few hours before Jason tries to desperately revive Viggo : 

Coming home to an empty house was odd. This was the first time you were alone in your apartment, without Viggo welcoming you back cheerfully (the little fucker never listened to his babysitter about his “bed time”, and would always wake up to come and jump in your arms). The first time in eight years. 

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like it at all. 

You felt as tears came back to your eyes, at how unfair this all situation was. 

You knew that this trial to get Viggo’s custody was bogus. That somehow, Jess had rigged it. You had no idea why, but you knew there was no way any sane judge would give custody of a child to a father who wasn’t there for the first eight years of his life. 

Even more so since everything went so fast, every paperworks was signed in a matter of a few days ! And they took him away from you and...

The tears spilled over. This was starting to be too much. And you caught yourself wishing Jason was here...You knew that he would know exactly what to do, in that situation. You knew he would never let it happened in the first place ! 

But Jason wasn’t here. Jason broke up with you. Because it was “too much” for him and...Yup, you were definitely crying again. 

It was fine though, this time, Viggo wasn’t there to witness it...The thought of your son not being peacefully asleep in his bedroom made you cry even more.

You went to his room, and laid in his empty bed. Holding his pillow tight in your arms, you cried and cried, smelling his odor as it was already starting to disappear...When would you be able to see Viggo again ? 

Jess didn’t seem to want you to see him much. Actually, you were pretty sure he was planning on making you regret those weeks of him trying to come back into your life, and you pushing him away. 

And so you cried. Without anyone to comfort you, not even your little precious son...That’s when your phone rung. 

Uh ? A text. You just received a text. You quickly looked at it and “a new voice message is waiting on your voice mail”. Oh right. Probably from that unknown number that called a few times before, when you were at work. 

You never answered those calls, especially not at work, but messages ? Sure, you listened to them. You never know, some could be good news. 

“Mom !”

Your heart skipped a beat. That was Viggo’s voice ! And he seemed scared ! You had no idea how you knew, but you could feel how your son felt even through the phone ! 

“Mom ! Jess didn’t want me still mom ! He’s with them Falcone people ! The ones in the paper ! And I don’t know why but he wants to take me to them and he wants to call you after mom ! Mom come please !” 

This send a rush of adrenaline to your brain, and you jumped on your feet, grabbing your bag before running out of your apartment. 

You didn’t go far though, realizing you had no idea where Jess lived. Motherfucker didn’t even give you an address. For “his own safety” they dared to tell you...But you had his number ! 

Without thinking twice, you called him. It rung three time before he picked up : 

“Hello ?” 

“What the fuck is happening Jess ?!” 

“Ah, (Y/N). Well, hello to you too. I’m doing great, what about you ? Why are you calling so late anyway ?” 

Of course he recognized you instantly. Just like you recognized his unpleasant sniveling little voice ! How did you even date that guy again ?! You barked : 

“What do you mean ? I just received a panicked message from Viggo telling me some pretty concerning things ?! What is happening ? Where are you ? I’m coming over.” 

“Calm down please (Y/N). I’ll have you know all our conversations are recorded, in case I need further evidence for the court that you’re unfit to be a mothe...”

“Shut the fuck up and answer me.”

“Answer you what ? Nothing is happening ok ? Viggo missed you and called you, if he sounds a little distressed it’s no big deal. He’s just a kid who misses his mom alright ?” 

Oh. It was clear Jess had actually no idea what your son could have possibly said to you in his message, or he wouldn’t be so chilled about it all. You continue : 

“You say those conversations are recorded right ?” 

“Yup.” 

You wished he was right in front of you right now, so you could bash his stupid face in. You hated the way he just said “yup”, so proud and satisfied of himself. So you delivered your fatal blow quickly : 

“Oh ? And what would they think when I’ll tell them Viggo said you had something to do with the Falcones ?” 

There’s a silence at the other end of the line, and you’re pretty sure you heard his breath catch as you said your last words. Finally, he says : 

“Ok well, I guess I won’t play more games then.”

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

The present : 

Three little coughs. 

Jason’s breath caught...to finally let a long relieved sigh when Viggo started to vomit some water, and breathe again. 

“Yes, yes that’s good my boy, that’s good, let it all out. Let it all out...” 

Jason said, helping Viggo to sit up, patting his back soothingly as the little boy coughed the rest of the water that were stuck in his lungs. 

Jason never felt so relieved. So light. So...He was going to be ok. The boy was going to be ok. Right ? He turned his face to him, and was suddenly worried again as Viggo’s eyes seem to have trouble focusing on his face. 

And the kid was still so cold. 

Without thinking about it twice, Jason took his jacket off, thanking his father for creating all their costumes waterproofed ! Even though Jason jumped into the freezing water too, his clothes were still dry and he therefor wasn’t as cold as the poor kid. 

Jason wrapped Viggo’s small body in his heavy leather jacket. He helped him put his legs where the arms were suppose to go, so as to create some kind of pants for him, and wrapped his upper body with the rest of his jacket. 

Jason was a tall man, and Viggo ? A rather short eight year old. The Red Hood’s jacket fitted around him perfectly, big enough to wrap all around him. 

The boy took a few deep breath, but was still not speaking. And his teeth were clacking against each others...

Jason took him in his arms, and held him close, rubbing his back and legs in an attempt to warm him. 

“Come on Viggo, you’re ok son, you’re ok. Right ? You’re ok. You’re breathing. You just need to warm up, you’ll be fine. Right ? You’re ok, you’re ok.” 

Jason heard himself chant, more trying to convince himself than anything else. And Viggo was still not talking...but his teeth and shaking were slowly disappearing. 

Until finally, he calmed down and snuck closer to Jason, snuggling his little face in the man’s warm chest. 

“Viggo ? Are you ok ?” 

“The Jason...”

Fuck. He recognized him. Well, duh, of course he did, Jason had to take his helmet off to give him CPR, and didn’t put it back on. Obviously he was going to recognize him ! Well. Too fucking bad. It was too late now to do anything about it anyway. 

So what if he knew his secret identity ? Jason trusted that kid enough to know he’ll never tell anyone else. Viggo pulled away from Jason slightly, and, still wrap tightly in the leather jacket, he managed to free an arm and reached up to lay a small cold hand on the man’s tears riddled cheek. 

“This explains a lot.” 

For a second, Jason lost himself to the touch of his little boy. Yes. “His”. He didn’t even want to hide how he felt about that kid anymore. In his heart, Viggo had been his son for a long time. And finally being able to be near him again made Jason feel lightheaded. 

He had dreamt for so long, to be able to talk, play with and hug that little one. Just like when he was still dating you. Putting him in bed, and telling him bedtime stories, as you looked upon the both of them fondly. 

Jason had craved, without even realizing it, to see that kid again. And so here, as he laid his small hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears...Jason couldn’t help but feel a little helpless. A little overwhelmed. 

He was suppose to be the one reassuring the kid right now, after that traumatic experience. And yet, here was Viggo, wrapped like a little bundle of hay in his leather jacket, comforting him by his mere touch. 

For a few seconds, his words didn’t register quite well in Jason’s head until...What ? Uh ? What does “this” explain ? But before Jason could ask, Viggo continues :

“That’s why you left right ? Because you’re Red Hood. You didn’t want us to get involved in all that right ?” 

Viggo said, showing the three unconscious men around him. And there’s hope in his eyes, and for a moment, Jason thinks about breaking that kid’s heart forever...but he can’t. 

He was planing on just saving him and then bringing him home to his mom, but stay cold and distant with him. Stay away. Make him hate him. Not leaving any hope that Jason cared...But here he was, crying his eyes out as he cradled that small boy in his arms, paternal instinct seeping out of his every pore. 

And so he couldn’t. He couldn’t stay away from that boy, he knew now. Just like he knew since the beginning that he couldn’t stay away from you forever. 

Seeing this hopeful little boy. He just can’t break Viggo’s heart, not after what just happened to him. And damn, why did that kid had to be so insightful and smart ? So observant, too ? Suddenly, he was reminded of all the time you told him that sometimes, having an intelligent kid wasn’t that great. 

Because Viggo always seemed to understand what he wasn’t suppose to understand. Always seem to know when things were up, and figured things out way too fast (for real, the easter egg chase wasn’t even fun as he quickly figured out wherever the “easter Bunny” could have put eggs...). 

And so Jason looks at Viggo, and he can’t. He just can’t. He can't decide to leave for good. Even more so because even as he thought he was safe if he left his life, he got hurt tonight and...

“You know, we’d be safer if you were with us right ? See, you left us and for the first time in my life I almost died. You should stick around...” 

Jason couldn’t do that to him. He couldn’t do that to that cute little one...He couldn’t resolve himself to definitely break his heart and shove him out of his life. Because he loved that kid. To death. And when he got hurt he got so angry, so sick with worries, so helpless, so...so... 

Jason couldn’t do that to him. But he also couldn’t do that to himself. He couldn’t stay away like that. He couldn't...Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t want to not be part of your life, of Viggo’s life. He...He wanted to...he...

Viggo, thoughtfully, was still wiping away Jason’s tears. Not missing one. Focused on his task, as he continued : 

”If we’re with you, you can protect us. It’s easier. Cause you’re already there. And you’re Red Hood. So you will always protect us. I’m guessing your family are the rest of the people ? Batman and all ? If we stick around with you, and with them, we’ll be safe for sure. Right ? So you should really come back. And stay with us. Stay with me.”

Jason’s breath caught, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes again. But this time, they were happy ones. Because here, in front of that brave, smart little boy, he never felt so joyful before in his life. 

Here, as he finally decided what the actual right thing to do was. 

“Smart cookie...” 

He says, and then he grabs Viggo by the shoulder before hugging him tight against his heart. Not letting go. Not ever planing on letting go again. 

“Don’t leave me alone again, Jason...” 

“I won’t, I promise.” 

Viggo wraps his little arms around Jason’s neck, and hold him with all his force. Hugging him like he never hugged anyone before, refusing to let go.

Jason doesn’t mind, of course. On the contrary. He gives the embrace back, and stands up, holding the kid against him. Viggo clings to him for dear life, and Jason has absolutely no intention of letting go.

Not this time.

Not ever. 

“I’ll never leave you alone again.”

This time, Viggo knows that Jason won’t ever go back on his words. Because there’s so much strength, so much certainty in his few words...Yes. Viggo knows. He knows he finally found what he had been looking for for so long. 

And so the little boy lays his head against Jason, and says, right before falling asleep after all those emotions he went through : 

“Thank you, dad.” 

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

An hour before Red hood saves Viggo : 

Jess owed money to the Falcone family. And they took your kid in hope to ask for a ransom to Bruce Wayne. 

When you explained you weren't with Jason anymore, Jess panicked and got angry...But then he remembered that Bruce Wayne had paid for the release of total strangers before. Of people he didn’t even know, helping out just because he could. So paying for his son’s ex girlfriend ? He’ll do it. 

You tried to tell him this was a ridiculous plan, and to give Viggo back to you before anything could happen but...that’s when he shattered your heart as he explained that your son was already in the Falcones’ hands. 

Your mind went blank. You’re pretty sure you insulted and threatened him some more, until you realized there was no point in doing so, right now, you unfortunately had to work with him. 

You obviously agreed to not call the police. Not that they’d help much anyway. Plus them knowing would most likely involve the “Bats”, and neither you nor Jess wanted that. 

Because no matter how much you admired those night vigilante, and how much you were sure they were needed in Gotham, you were too worried for your son’s safety to want them involved ! 

And so the obvious next step was...To go to Wayne Manor, and beg for their help. Deep down, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t have to beg that much anyway, knowing how Bruce had been a few days before, when Viggo skipped school to bring back his birthday present to the Manor. 

They had ice cream. They played together. They talked. They...They bonded. You knew Bruce really liked Viggo. And really liked you. You knew he would help. But it’s still very nervous that you drove to there. 

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

A few minutes before Red Hood saves Viggo : 

It was rather late, when you arrived at the Manor and rung the bell. To your surprise, Alfred didn’t answer the door. Bruce did (it was rather late at night, and Gotham had been quiet. He came home early that day, taking advantage of the quietness to take care of Wayne Inc business). 

“Wait wait, (Y/N) calm down, calm down. I don’t understand anything you say. Please breathe, and start over.” 

He listened to you, a serious face on. Asking you questions sometimes, to have more details. He listened to your entire story, and he felt his blood boil. 

That Jess...How dare he ?! Bruce felt an intense urge to hurt him. To make him regret, to make him suffer, for what he did to you and Viggo. It kind of surprised him, to realize how strongly he felt about this entire issue. 

It made him realize, in that moment, that you and your son were already holding a special place in his heart. That all he was waiting for up until now, was for his son to wake up and get back together with you ! 

It made him realize, as some of his worst side surface, thinking of all the ways he could make Jess suffer, that you two were already family to him. And the would do anything to protect you. So when he listened to you, hearing that Jess gave Viggo to the Falcones’ to pay off his debt, int he hope that your tie to the Wayne family would be enough...His blood boiled. 

He, of course, did not hesitate one second to accompany you to the address Jess gave you, “taking his checkbook” with him...Though he had no intention of letting that sleazy ball off the hook that easily. 

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

The present : 

It was infuriating, to see Jess smile as he opened the door to see you and Bruce Wayne himself. 

The little shit was so sure he’d won...it drove you crazy, that he actually did. Because you were here, with Bruce Wayne himself. So of course he won. Bruce was going to give him money to get Viggo back, and Jess would get away with it (again). 

The man was actually pretty proud of himself. He handled the situation perfectly, he thought. He came a long way, since having his head shoved in a puddle of water huh ? 

Ugh. But he was so obviously proud of himself, it made you furious. And if you weren’t so worried about your son’s safety, you would have already punched him and told Bruce it was time to go. 

However, Viggo’s life was on the line. You could feel your son being in genuine danger. And so you did not do anything when he said : 

“Please, come on in.” 

You followed him in the living room, noticing that your boy’s luggage hadn’t even been unpacked...Your poor baby must have been so scared. Must still be so scared right now, surrounded with strangers ! 

You hoped to everything you held holly that he was ok. That you’d be able to take him in your arms soon. That things would go back to normal. 

And your heart bled at the mere thought of your son all alone, with strangers, and scared. You wanted to hold him against you, you wanted to-wanted to...Bruce’s gaze was fixed on you, and his jaw visibly clenched as he saw tears starting to well up in your eyes. 

It was fairly easy to know what was running through your brain right now. He had been in somewhat similar situations than yours before, with his own children. Each and everyone of them had been in danger at some point, and everything had relied on his shoulder to save them. 

More than once, he failed to...Jason suffered the consequences of him not being fast enough...The anger this entire situation provoked in Bruce came rushing back, and he turned to Jess, glaring at him. 

All of a sudden, the man lost his color, as the famous Bruce Wayne gave him a threatening look. Yo. What was up with that guy ? He always seemed so charming on Tv ? Now sure the situation wasn’t really one to be happy about, of course, but everything would go well if Bruce signed that check. Like chill, it was fine, the situation was handled perfectly well ! 

You were about to say something, but Bruce didn’t let you. Because there, right now, faced with Jess’ infuriating satisfied smile, Bruce took a decision. And so he says : 

“(Y/N) wait for me outside. This is a business transaction between Mister...I do not know your last name. Mister Jess here, and I.”

You look at him, surprise, and starts to say a  “But-” but he cuts you off instantly : 

“I insist, please.” 

You don’t know what made you listen to him, but you can’t find the energy inside you not to. Usually, you would have argued. Say that there was no way, and that you were gonna stay. But...

Bruce had a tone of voice that was hard to resist to. 

Plus, you realized that you were completely and utterly trusting him, and if he said you should wait outside, there must be a reason. So without arguing further, you gave him a knowing look and exited the house, going back to the car. 

Bruce turns to Jess, and smiles. A dangerous, scary smile. A “Batman” smile. Jess takes an unsure step back, and says : 

“So um...are you writing that check or what ? The soonest we’re done with it, the soonest we can get Viggo back.” 

That was the straw that broke the camel. The moment Jess should have shut up. Too bad for him now. In a swift move, not letting Jess the time to even know what was happening, Bruce caught him by the collar of his shirt and brought him up to his face. 

Bruce was much taller than Jess, and quickly, Jess’ feet left the ground. 

“Oh what the fuck man ? What are you-”

“How dare you ? Your own son ?! How dare you use him like that ?!” 

“Put me down man ok ? I’m sorry but I didn’t have a choice, I-” 

Bruce did not want to hear it. He knew what was going to happen, if he let go. Jess was going to find himself excuses. He was going to justify his disgusting actions. And he was going to stall, and not tell him where Viggo truly was. 

And Bruce didn’t want to hear any of it. He was about to cut to the chase. No beating around the bush on that one. “Beating”, what an interesting word...

Bruce threw Jess against his fridge, and the man fell on his ass, the wind knocked out of his lungs. Maybe a few cracked ribs. Definitely lots of bruises.

But Bruce wasn’t finished yet, oh no. He took hold of the man’s collar again, and dragged him to the kitchen’s table, where he smashed his back on said table and head butted him. Hard. Pretty sure he broke his nose. 

Jess yelled in pain and fear, and tried to squirm his way out of Bruce’s grasp, but he clearly had no idea who he was facing. 

“Where is Viggo ?” 

Bruce asked, holding Jess against the table with even more force. 

“I don’t know ok ! They took him and I-” 

Bruce rolled his eyes and straightened Jess back up, before punching him in the face. Not using his full force, of course. After all, he needed the man conscious for his interrogation... 

“Enough bullshit, where is he ?” 

“I don’t-” 

“Tell me you don’t know one more time, lie to me one more time, and I’ll break your knee cap.” 

Bruce says, setting Jess on the floor in front of him and taking hold of one of his leg. Bruce laid a foot on Jess’ chest, making sure the man couldn’t move, and slowly twisted his knee. 

“Outch outch outch please, please stop !” 

“Tell me where the boy is.” 

“Stop ! Please stop !” 

But Bruce had no intention to stop. He was sure (gut feelings) that Jess knew where Viggo was, and he wasn’t about to let that asshole get away with all this.

Punching him felt incredibly satisfying. And right now ? Crushing his ribs cage under his foot so he wouldn’t move, and slowly twisting his leg as to give him as much pain as possible ? Well, Bruce didn’t know he could feel such pleasure hurting others. 

But when someone touched his family, he tended to lose control... 

“Alright fine fine !! Ok ok stop ! I know where he is ! I know where he is ! I’ll tell you everything ok ? I’ll tell you everything !” 

But Bruce doesn’t quite let go of the leg yet, instead, he raises an eyebrow and says : 

“Start talking.” 

And Jess indeed started to talk. He gave all the informations Bruce needed, and there, laid on the floor of his kitchen, looking miserable and pitiable, face bloodied and bruised...Bruce couldn’t help himself. 

As soon as he got the informations, he made a quick snapping motion and broke Jess’ leg. And he would have done more, if it wasn’t for you waiting, impatiently in his car. 

He was worried that you’d worry too much. He wanted this to be over quick, but he also wanted to give Jess something to think about. 

Jess’ scream resonated inside the house, and he grabbed at his limped leg screaming : 

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU FUCKING PSYCHO !!??” 

But Bruce only looked at him with hatred in his eyes, scoffing once more and saying : 

“I’m the psycho ? Maybe. But I never sold my own children to the mafia. I never ran away from taking care of my kids once. Sure I have many flaws, I might have liked a bit too much snapping your leg like a twig, but at least I’m not a piece of shit like you who doesn’t even care in the least about his own son.” 

Ah. So that was it. More than Jess attacking his family, it was the fact that he dared to give away his son that easily, that infuriated Bruce. Now he realized it. And of course, to Bruce, his children were everything. 

So seeing a man as despicable as Jess, never even wanting to meet his son up until he owed money, and used him...It drove him mad. 

“What does it matter to you anyway ? I never even wanted kids ! She forced it on me you know !” 

Jess whined, and he immediately realized once again, he should have shut up. Because now Bruce, who was about to leave, was kneeling down next to him and grabbing him by the collar again : 

“She forced it on you ? Please, tell me the story. I heard her side, I’m sure you have a lot to say about yours.” 

Never in his life would Jess have think that the charming and smiling Bruce Wayne he saw on TV could be that scary, but there he was, staring at him with dead eyes and talking in that creepy voice... 

“I mean I...She didn’t quite force it it’s just...Ok maybe when she got pregnant I said we should keep it, and maybe I acted like I was excited but it’s because of the...pressure, you know ? Of the...um...I...” 

“Say you’re sorry.” 

“You just broke my leg and you want me to-outch outch outch SORRY !”

Bruce was pushing down on Jess’ broken legs, pressing exactly where the bones broke, and got what he wanted out of him. With a last look full of disgust, Bruce stood back up and started to leave, saying : 

“You don’t deserve to have a child like Viggo. Or a girl like (Y/N) in your life. I suggest you never enter in contact with them again, or I’ll come back. Better yet, my son, Jason, who’s dating (Y/N) ? He’ll come back. And believe me when I say he’s much less patient than I am.” 

Bruce was about to leave but Jess desperately threw himself in his legs and grabbed at the bottom of his pants. Whining, in pain, he managed to say : 

“Wait man, you can’t-You can’t just leave like that ! If they know I told you anything, they’re going to kill me ! You hear, kill me !” 

Bruce looked down upon Jess with great disdain, and scoffed. 

“And how is that my problem ?” 

He said, before leaving the room. 

Now, of course, his “no killing” rule applied to “not letting someone kill another person”. If he could avoid any death, Bruce would do it, and most likely, he’ll set up a surveillance of some sort to make sure Jess wouldn’t get killed. 

Well, to be honest, Bruce was actually planing on getting Jess behind bars. It would be somewhat easier to make sure he wouldn’t die that way, plus he deserved to spend the rest of his life in prison. He was pretty sure that the charge of kidnapping, and in a way attempted murder would be enough to let him rot in prison for a long time. Plus if he had ties with the Falcones...

Yes. Bruce obviously wouldn’t let Jess die, no matter how scummy he was. But hey, Jess himself didn’t know that, did he ? He had no idea that Bruce Wayne was the famous Batman. 

And you know what ? It was utterly satisfying, to see a bloodied Jess weeping on his floor, scared to death, so sure he was going to die...Very satisfying indeed. 

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

When Bruce came back in the car, the first thing you noticed was his bruised knuckles. But you didn’t say anything. 

You listened to him filling you in, listening to him saying that they were holding your son in an old warehouse and that was the rendezvous point, and didn’t mention the bloodied hands. 

You could only imagine Jess’ state, by the look of Bruce’s damaged knuckles. And so you just smiled lowly, knowing that at least for this once, justice was somewhat served...

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

Bruce goes in the warehouse alone, leaving you in the car. He convinced you that it was better if he went alone, as they would expect him anyway more than you...But the truth was, he didn’t want to put your life in danger. 

He wasn’t about to come in from the front door, if Falcone’s guys were involved, they were most certainly armed and dangerous. He couldn’t risk an entrance obvious like that, Viggo’s life could be in jeopardy. 

Bruce noticed a window open on the first floor, and made his way up there quick, lifting himself up thanks to his arms’ strength and agility. He raised his turtle neck all the way to his eyes, so they wouldn’t recognize his face, and slip into the warehouse...

To discover that someone came here before. 

Viggo was nowhere to be seen, and three men were laying on the floor, definitely not in a great shape. 

Bruce let himself fall on the ground, and went to check the men. 

They were definitely Falcone’s. He recognized their guns, no other used this specific build. The two men had been roughed up pretty bad, and were unconscious. Not much infos to get out of them. 

But a bit further, was a third man. He was soaked from head to toe, and barely breathing. A batarang was stuck in his shoulder. 

Bruce knelt down and made sure the man was actually still alive. He was, but he was definitely weak. Bruce quickly made an anonymous call to the closest hospital and to the police, and gave them the address to the warehouse. 

But the men didn’t interest Bruce further. No. What interested him was those water marks, there, near the unconscious-batarang-to-the-shoulder-man. It was shape like someone kneeling next to a small person. 

Or rather. A child. Viggo. 

Bruce felt his heart beating faster, what happened ? Was he too late ? Did the worst happen ? 

Next to the water marks, he found a little piece of fabric...Brown leather...

“Jason...” 

Bruce said out loud, recognizing from where this piece of fabric came from. His son’s leather Red Hood jacket. Ah. So he got here first. But how did he know ? 

Suddenly however, Bruce felt more at ease. 

Because of Jason managed to get here and Viggo wasn’t around anymore, it surely meant that...He saved him, right ? The fact that there was water everywhere was a bit alarming, but Jason would never give up on that little boy...Just like Bruce would never give up on his son. 

He stood up, and went straight to the exit of the warehouse and to his car, where you were waiting. 

“What happened ? Where is Viggo ?!” 

You asked, full of panic. But strangely, Bruce’s words calmed you down (even though he was freaking out internally as well, he hid it well) : 

“He’s with Jason.” 

“What ?” 

“I’ll explain on the way, ok ? And please...bear with me.” 

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

Viggo couldn’t believe it. Wow. WOW ! So THIS was the Batcave huh ? 

That was crazy. There were so many things, Viggo just didn’t know where to look ! Was that a dinosaur ? AN ACTUAL FUCKING DINOSAUR ?! And what was up with that giant coins anyway ? 

Jason had brought him here a few minutes ago, and sat him up on the infirmary table. And though at first Viggo felt very sleepy (he slept most of the way, curled up against Jason even as Jay was driving back to the bat cave), being there, in the middle of this amazing place (the infirmary was where there was most lights, in the center of the cave) woke him up instantly ! 

But when it seemed like Jason was leaving, Viggo had clutched to his sleeve, scared to be alone again, but Jason reassured him that he was just going to fetch some clothes for him. 

At the same time, Jason took advantage of this to fill his brothers in on what was happening. The night had indeed been calm for them, and they were all already home. 

Their father had gone earlier, without telling them where, which was surprising but...he could tell him everything later. He knew that he wouldn’t be mad that he brought Viggo back to the cave.

Once everyone knew what was up, they surrounded Viggo and gave him words of support and encouragement, making him feel like he was...part of the family. 

Like they really were his super cool and dedicated uncles and aunt. 

Damian especially, tried to cheer the little boy up, knowing how traumatic this kind of experience could be. Cassandra was the only one that didn’t say much, but she clutched his hand and Viggo felt instantly better just with this. 

A few minutes later, Jason came back with some of his old clothes (that every single kid after him wore, including Cassandra) and gave them to Viggo. They were still a bit too big for the boy, but it was good enough. 

A red hoodie (of course), some sweatpants they all wore during training (they were in remarkable condition really), and socks. He couldn’t find shoes that would fit him, so he just brought some slippers that were too big but with which he could still walk. 

However, right now, Jason forbid the boy to walk, as he still had to get over the shock of almost drowning...Well to be honest, Jason had to get over the shock of almost losing his boy. Because Viggo ? 

He kept gawking at everything in the cave, and asking hundreds of questions to everyone, and seemed completely fine. Jason however needed to-

“MOM !” 

Viggo jumped from the table he was sitting on, and started running towards the entrance of the cave. The entrance coming from the house. 

Confused, Jason turned back and...his heart clenched. 

There you were. With his father ? 

The hell just happened ? Wait, doesn’t matter, because you were there. And Jason found himself, despite how awful those past few days had been, smiling like an idiot just by seeing you. 

But...Were you going to forgive him for leaving you like he did ? 

Viggo was almost to you now. On the way, he lost both his slippers but it didn’t matter. You closed up the rest of the way, running to him, and grabbed him in your arms, clutching him against your heart as he returned your embrace. 

You took a good look at him, looking at his face, arms, legs, making sure he wasn’t hurt. But the only thing he seemed to have was a few bad bruise on his face, and a swollen eye. Other than that, he seemed perfectly healthy. 

The batfamily gave you and your son time to hug each other, kiss each other and whisper promises that you’ll never leave each others again. And then, slowly, you turned to Jason. 

The man was pretty sure that he heard Viggo say “be nice” to you as you walked towards him. 

Jason saw Viggo go to Bruce, but he barely register how cute it was that Bruce just instantly picked up the kid as if it was normal, as if he had always been his grandkid, and mentioned something about...ice cream ?

Because you were in front of him now, and he couldn’t read your face at all. Were you happy ? Relieved ? Mad ? Sad ? Furious ? 

It seems like you’re about to reach for him, but then, at the last second, your hand bunch up in a fist and you punch him in the guts instead. With all your might. 

In the background, you’re pretty sure you heard Damian exclaiming : “Haha yeah ! Serves him right !” and his siblings half-heartedly telling him to not say such things, even if they kinda agreed. 

Ok. So you were definitely mad. Jason was straightening back up and ready to apologize profusely to you, when you grabbed him by the back of his neck and crashed your mouth against his. 

Savagely. Fiercely. Whole heartedly. 

Passed the first few seconds of surprise, Jason kissed you back. 

With all his heart too, passionately, fervently. 

The world around you dissolved slowly, as there was just you and Jason now. Just his lips moving against yours. Just his tongue licking your mouth open, and then tangling with yours ardently. 

You don’t even hear your son asking Bruce to take him away to get some ice cream because this was getting gross, and everyone slowly leaving to go upstairs, in the Manor to leave you two alone to...Figure things out. 

The kiss dragged for long minutes, his arms were now tightly wrapped around your waist, as yours were around his neck. 

Days of heartbreak, of regrets, of sadness and frustration...vanished in the force of this beautiful kiss. 

When finally you separated from each other, you whispered : 

“Don’t ever decide something for me like that again, Jason...” 

Ah. Of course, just like your son, you figured out why he left. Jason figured that his father probably told you about this all...”Batman/vigilante” thing while driving you here. Eh, he’ll ask him about details later, right now, it wasn’t important, as he answers : 

“I thought you’d be safer without me. That you deserved better.”

“I decide what I deserve.” 

The way you sound so sure of yourself, so adamant...it makes him feel lightheaded once again. Just like when Viggo touched his cheek, wiping his tears again. 

It makes him feel so utterly happy, that he doesn’t know how to react. And he finds himself kissing you again, his lips reluctant to let go of yours. His arms definitely not letting go of you. 

“I decide what I deserve.”...Yes, yes you do. How foolish was he, to think he could ever stay away from you anyway ? When you were so strong and...Everything he ever wanted ? 

He pulls away from the kiss, and says : 

“I have to tell you, (Y/N)-”

“If you’re about to tell me how dangerous it is for me to stay with you, or some bullshit like that, I’ll punch you again. I’ll have you know that as soon as you left us, that’s when we started to be in danger...” 

The exact same words your son used. Well, like mother like son. After all, your boy had to inherit all his greatness from someone. And it was certainly not from Jess. ...Jess, whatever happened to him ? 

Jason figured that if you were with his dad, it probably meant you went to see Jess and retraced Viggo’s whereabouts and...It didn’t matter for now. He’ll ask his dad later. And he’ll pay a little visit to Jess later, too. 

“No, I wasn’t about to say that.” 

“Oh. Sorry. Ok, well go on then.”  

“Ok - deep breath - I...I want you to know. That this. You and I. I’m in. I’m all in. I’ve always been all in, but I was also an idiot. But now ? Tonight has been eye opening. And from now on, I’ll be there. I won’t leave, unless you want me to. Ever. I’ll never even think, of leaving. I love you. I love you so much. And I know now that I...I can’t live without you. And without Viggo. You two, are my life. I realized that when dumbass me broke up with you, it felt like dying...And I would know how that feels like, believe me. I...I just love you. And you’ll never be “too much” for me, never. In fact, every seconds with you aren’t enough. I love you.”

Wow. You were...certainly not expecting such a love confession. You found yourself speechless, while you wished you could tell him so much. But right now, the shock and joy you felt stopped you from saying anything. 

And so you kissed him again, whispering a “I love you” against his lips. And he smiled in the kiss, dragging you with him to the elevator leading up to Wayne Manor. 

That night, maybe you were unable to tell him how much you truly loved him, but you definitely showed it to him, rolling around with him in his sheets all night long...

All the while, Bruce and his other kids were having ice cream with Viggo, living their best life binge watching fails video on YouTube. Bruce figured he should give you and Jason some private time...Plus, he really didn’t mind at all spending time with that little boy. 

On the contrary... 

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

Two years later : 

“Dada !” 

The little girl exclaims excitedly, moving her arms and legs around and grabbing at the man’s face lovingly. She repeats the word a few times, almost singing it, and then giggles happily.

“No Laura, granddada ! I’m GRAND-dada, not dada !” 

Bruce says for the hundred times, as Jason’s daughter is sitting on his lap, facing him and now apparently very interested in his eyebrows. 

She stands clumsily on his lap, and reaches up, giggling to herself, and Bruce can’t help but give her a fond look full of love, letting her pulling his eyebrows even if it’s painful. Ah, he’d let that little girl do anything really. The joy of being a grandfather. You could spoil rotten the kids, without fear of any consequences ! 

Except maybe for a few mis-plucked eyebrows...

“Don’t bother dad, Except for her mom whom she calls “mama” and for Viggo that she calls “ ‘igo”, she calls everyone she likes “Dada.””

Jason says sadly, plopping down in the couch next to his dad. 

You, Jason, Viggo and little Laura were visiting the mansion today, to the rest of the family’s greatest pleasure. Dick came by too, just to see everyone, and it quickly became a very pleasant family day. 

“How is it fair that she calls her and only her mama ? But then as soon as she kind of like someone she calls them “dada” ? I swear Roy is annoying the hell out of me with that, and he’s telling her that he is indeed, her dada !” 

Jason continues, a bit of frustration in his voice. Bruce laughs, unable to stop himself at how sweet it is to see his son get upset at such a trivial thing. Happy, too, that his son can get upset at such a trivial, normal thing, and that his worries aren’t always related to his...”night life”.

“But isn’t it good, dad, that she calls everyone she likes “dada” ? It means that she decided that your name fitted the best the people she loves, because you know, you’re someone she loves very much !” 

Jason turns to his son’s voice, and Viggo smiles at him brightly. 

Sometimes, like right now, Jason couldn’t quite believe that this was real life. That he really had a family now, and that they were just so...so...So perfect. 

You’re walking behind Viggo, and you smile mischievously as you see how upset Jason is that your daughter calls basically everyone nice to her “dada”, and go to him. He grabs you by the waist and drag you on top of his lap, to then kiss you. 

Viggo immediately looks away, and goes to his grandfather to hide both his sister’s AND Bruce’s eyes, that sweet little man. He then says : 

“Ew, I try to cheer you up and you answer with a sneak kiss attack on mom. So gross !” 

Once again, Bruce chuckles. He never laughed so much than in the presence of his grandchildren...But both Viggo and tiny little Laura were extremely funny and sweet, he couldn’t help but smile and laugh when with them ! 

Damian was coming in now, with a plate full of cookies (made specifically by Alfred so that a one year old little girl could eat them without any danger), and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch, before going to seat in-between his father and Jason, making the latter growl because it meant that he had to shift you in his lap and damn, the little sucker couldn’t sit elsewhere ? 

But Damian wanted to sit next to his beloved niece. He had a cookie in his hand, and with a fond smile that appeared on his face only when in the presence of his niece and nephew (like father, like son), Damian gave the cookie to Laura. 

The little girl reached for it cheerfully, and patted Damian on the head as a “thank you” (and if it was anyone else but her, Damian would have been furious), and raised the cookie up in the air. She pointed at it and, with a voice full joy and excitement said : 

“DADA !” 

Everyone in the room burst into laughter, as Jason’s smile was replaced with a vexed frown when he realized his daughter was calling a damn cookie “dada”...

The End (?). 

________________________________________________

AND BAM ! The end. I hope you liked it ? Don’t hesitate to leave a feedback and/or reblog ! It’s always very appreciated and encouraging <3 ! Also, I’m thinking of making a little “epilogue” to this story, just fluffiness and cuteness with Jason’s new little family. I mean, I’m convinced he’d be a great dad, so...kinda wanna write more about him with Viggo, and his little girl :). Anyway. Tell me what ya think about that too, and thanks for reading ! This was a blast to write.

Oh and I hope that all Jess story isn't confusing. I didn’t want to go into details about his backstory, so I hope it’s clear enough that he just basically owes money to the wrong people, and bam. That he had been living in Gotham all those years, just avoiding to see reader or Viggo. And that he did some stupid shit...Which prompted him to use reader and his own son ! And bam. Piece of shit alright. I just hope it’s not confusing and was clear enough, as I tried to make it understandable without going into boring details cause the story definitely isn’t about that asshole.  

[hecohansen31]

Romance Dreaming:

Captain Francis O’Malley/Duncan Shepherd+Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

So, not long ago, in our Discord group we had a rather interesting conversation on put an awful moustache onto Duncan which @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern immediately complied, creating Francis O’Malley, a rather lonesome cowboy with a love for the countryside and a southern accent.

And then… I just had to put this in some kind of lousy romantic plot, because it is just how I am done, I am sorry… but I hope that it could at least steal a laugh from you!

Have a nice day!

SUMMARY: When you met on your road, in a rather compomising situation, Captain O’Malley, you are put up in front of a rather interesting deal.

WORDS: 12,6K

WARNINGS: Mentions of Abusive Household, Mentions of War And Death, HIGHLY HYSTORICALLY INACCURATE (I am sorry guys I just had a lot of things to think about, tonight, so I am sorry, if this doesn’t make sense, but I just felt like the post-civil war would have been a nice setting), Slutshaming, Marriage, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Mentions of Sexual Themes.

Francis had chosen many times the wrong side.

At the start of the war he had been a confederate, not because he had particularly believed in their cause, but because he had been brought up in that area, and it had been rather difficult to choose any other view.

Even more when your parents had controlled your Fate.

He hadn’t approved many of their choices, but he had been in too deep to get himself away.

War and leading armies was something he was good at, alongside riding his horse, and he wasn’t able to do more anything else, since everybody seemed to think he was the epitome of the perfect cavalry captain of the South, with his perfect light eyes and his strong legs.

So, he hadn’t chosen much of his life.

Except for Roweena.

Roweena and him had met when he had been asked to escort her and her father through a business trip, with his unity and he had been truly amazed by the beauty of such a creature, narrow waist and acute eyes, which played with his emotions.

He had wanted to marry her from the moment he had first seen her, but there was some distance between them, as in between their social status, and his father hadn’t approved.

Hence Francis had thought that, since he had already Roweena’s heart as she wrote to him, he just had to focus on becoming the best cavalry captain so that he could convince Roweena’s father to give her away to a war hero, and they would retire in a sweet country mansion where he could train horses and live the rest of his days in peace.

War had hunted him when he was finally alone, in his tent: the thought of how many fellow soldiers he had lost in that horrible and murderous plot made him feel empty and missing something.

Something he was hoping to find in Roweena, in her sweet eyes and comforting hands.

But then the tides of the war had turned and the North had started slowly winning each battle, gaining more confidence as they went and in the end they had completely destroyed their opponents.

The war had finished in a bittersweet end for Francis.

He was to be executed as many other captains, but a general of the North had noticed him and had suggested that instead of being hang with everyone else of his comrades he betrayed them and came to the North, because they could use someone with his abilities.

He knew that it had been a rather coward decision, but he couldn’t help but choose his life, that one time where he had finally been able to choose.

He hadn’t ever cared for the Confederation’s barbaric rules and now he was breaking them to save his life.

Still each night he woke up with of his friends calling him a coward.

The city in which he had been sent as his first appointment was nothing more than a shithole, completely destroyed by the horrible disasters that Lady War had brought with her and there wasn’t much control to do, after Francis had been appointed constable.

He knew it was some sort of punishment and degradation for having a past in the confederation but each day he woke up wanting to do nothing and feel nothing, he remembered he was alive and that was all it mattered.

He had to live on for those who hadn’t had a chance.

Also, the thought of Roweena kept him going.

Her father had sadly died in the war and she had had to rush to an aunt in the North, according to her latest letters.

She had lost anything she had owned and the only thing that kept her going was Francis.

The thought of their arms joined together in a last hug when they had run away from her annoying chaperone, that same hug that tasted so bittersweet for Francis, each time he remembered about it, was what kept his hopes up.

She hadn’t left her new address and Francis hadn’t been able to contact her, but he had also thought that he couldn’t just show up to her door to bring her to the shithole he worked in: he had to give her something better and he was working on it.

With the little money that he had managed to hide, he was trying to build a new house at the outskirt of the city, hoping it would his and Roweena’s love nest.

One day, he would wake up and all the ghosts would be away, and he would have Roweena by his side.

He was imagining all this, meanwhile he was patrolling with a few friends, when he heard a merchant screaming ‘thief! Thief!’ indicating a running boy, who was zigzagging through the crowd in an almost desperate run, almost making it…

… hadn’t it been for Francis on his horse, who was completely able to avoid the confused mob, using a shortcut, crossing his paths with his thief, just as he was a few miles from being safe and sound.

The little thief knocked himself out against the side of Francis’ horse, who neighed furiously and Francis had to give him a few good caressed to calm it down, meanwhile he reigned it to circle the thief, who was knocked on the ground, too scared by the horse to even try a movement, meanwhile the little bag with money was knocked on the ground, open.

“What do we have here, Charles?” he asked at the horse, eyeing gravely the little thief: the crime scene had increased due to the poverty of the area and the world, but this didn’t make it less excusable “… a little thief… who can’t do his job”.

“Please sir…” the thief’s voice sounded strangely high-pitched and a little hood was covering his face, meanwhile he went on his knees begging the captain “… I honestly… my family is going to starve and nobody is willing to hire me…”.

“You can stop all this silly talk, you should know better than to rob someone of their legitimate money!” he shouted back and something sparkled in the thief’s eyes, suddenly not so scared of the horse, raising on his feet.

“Oh, you think that I was stealing somebody’s ‘legitimate money’?! That merchant is profiting on poor people’s lives, he isn’t less a criminal than me! He is a thief exactly like me… but since he dresses in rich fabrics and doesn’t look starved, you won’t persecute him!”.

The thief’s angry rant made Francis almost fall back from his horse: he knew that what he spoke was true, since many merchants had started taking advantage of the poorness that the war had left, but the thief had still broken the law and he couldn’t go unpunished.

And then a little breezed blew onto them, and the thief’s hoodie fell down his shoulder… or better her shoulder, since the thief revealed to be a girl, a little younger than him, with obvious sign of starvation on her face, but there was some kind of determination that graced her features that made her… truly wonderful at Francis’ eyes.

He was dumbfounded enough and when the thief tried to escape him, due to his distraction, he almost lost her, but Charles was smarter than his owner and quickly captured her again, and this time Francis dismantled from him, so that they could have a conversation eye-to-eye .

She was definitely young and the fact that she was a girl made Francis want to be lenient with the punishment since she was obviously not doing this because she liked it: if it was true that she had a family, she must have been truly desperate to try out this road.

He wondered what he would have felt, had his Roweena been the one that had to steal to provide for her family.

She wouldn’t do it with any sort of evilness to it, it was necessity that brought her on the bad side of the road and although Francis had to obey to the law, he could bend it a bit.

“What’s your name?” the girl refused to reply and he forced her to raise her chin to him, meeting a pair of beautiful eyes, shining of some kind of rage that seemed to keep that body up, burning into Francis’ mind “… and don’t tell me a fake one or I’ll throw you in the darkest jail cells we own, got me?”.

“…(Y/N), sir” the name came out as a soft whimper, as if it pained her to reveal an identity she had almost forgotten “… please don’t put me in jail, captain! I’ll return the money and apologize! I can’t go to jail, my mother would be heartbroken!”.

“You won’t” although he wanted to toy with her a bit more, mostly so that she would learn her lesson, he saw a deep pain in her, a scar that brought him to think of his own “… but you have to promise me you won’t do it again, (Y/N), got me?”.

Her head came free from his grip and this time you refused to look at his eyes, clearly not wanting to swear something that she felt like she would do again, and rather soon according to what her eyes spoke of.

“… you know that you can’t survive like this, don’t you?” he asked, surely concerned that such a beautiful girl could reduce herself to this.

Had the thieving also been unfruitful would she have turned to something even worse?

His heart honestly couldn’t stand it.

“My father died in the war, sir, and my mother has other five children, two of which are rather young! My older brother is a drunkard and won’t help us, so me and my other two sisters try to make some money helping mom with embroidery and cultivating our little vegetable garden… but it isn’t ever enough… the youngest are always hungry and my brother… he steals us money!”.

This was a rather common tragedy: many families lost their only source of income and many of the members turned to alcohol, letting others starve.

He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for her.

“I won’t hurt you or rattle you out, but if you promise that you aren’t going to steal anything, anymore, I might have a job proposal for you”.

Her nose immediately scrunched up and he realized that the way he had worded the entire thing was horrible and definitely implying something that he hadn’t wanted to, blushing and regretting his words, immediately.

“… I didn’t mean anything like that!” he put his hands up to try to make her relax and see that he didn’t mean anything dirty, behind his words “…I mean an honest job: I have recently started living here and the chaotic life and work has left my house rather… unclean…”.

“You are asking somebody who just stole money… to clean your house?”.

The absurdity of the entire situation made him laugh and she smirked, this time definitely more genuinely.

“You must be truly new in town”.

Francis was rather thankful for his chaotic meeting with (Y/N),

She was amazing with cleaning the house, but that wasn’t her only talent: she was extremely educated for the third daughter of a farmer, justifying her knowledge as the passion that her grandma, a fallen noblewoman who had fell in love with a farmer, had passed down to her.

She knew literature and was passionate about it, which had made her feel wonder at Francis’ small collection of books and, before she had to steal any of them, he had welcomed her to take what he needed, almost as a little library of his.

They would then discuss about it, once she was taking a break from cleaning, Francis insisting she did so, since she worked hard and more times than not, she had overworked herself and he had had to accompany her with Charles back home.

She would always make him stop a bit before he actually reached the proper place.

He knew it was both because she was ashamed of him seeing her modest home, and both because she didn’t want her brother to know of her employment: he would steal her money and use them for booze, hence she always hid her money in her garter belt, knowing he wouldn’t search her there.

Some days, she would come in work, a black eye and a tremble in her hands, she would scrub the floor with such a ferocity that Francis many times had to interrupt her, before she hurt herself and more times than not he had let the girl use his bathroom, just to hear her sob lightly.

It hurt him to know that she had to go through something like that, each time she went back home.

Wouldn’t it have tarnished her good name and his, he would have insisted that she sometimes stopped in his city house so that she could avoid that horrible life.

‘Have you ever thought about running away?’ he had asked once, meanwhile she chatted about the latest books she had managed to get her hands onto, a new one even for Francis, since he had started to buy new books just for her, she loved the ones with fantasy in it and the right atmosphere.

‘More days than not I catch myself thinking about it…’ her confession surprised him: he hadn’t expected that to happen, although she lived in that horrid place, she had never mentioned to him running away ‘… I once even did my luggage and… then… I never know what to do’.

He kind of expected it.

She didn’t have any money and family, although abusive as that one, was still family.

He knew all too well.

‘And what about you, mysterious cowboy?’ she joked, meanwhile she turned to him, pushing the soap in the water, and then immerging the rag in it to clean the floor of the main room, a little but familiar place she had grown to love ‘… don’t you want to run away?’.

‘In the countryside’ he started and gently he relaxed himself, thinking about his life, a calm life in a nice place, where he could live happily surrounded by horses, the nature and his beloved… Roweena…

… Roweena!

He hadn’t thought about her in months, and that morning he had been brightened by a letter of an old friend of his, who had also joined the North side and he had sent him a letter about having seen Roweena at a ball and having talked about her, knowing she would attend a ball not too away from his shithole of a city.

‘All alone?’ she asked, with a malicious smile on her lips, having caught his enamored glance.

‘I might have the perfect girl for that life’.

‘She is a lucky girl, Mr. O’Malley, then’ she had giggled making him blush ‘… I mean… you helped a thief so I truly believe that you have a big heart and she must beyond lucky’.

Did her gaze hide something more?

Francis couldn’t help but think that there was different spark in her eyes, a more intense spark.

But he wasn’t able to think more about it, because as her gaze had set up on him, it immediately left him going back to her chores.

Through the weeks that separated him with his meeting with Roweena, to relax his brain he had taught (Y/N) how to ride with Charles, not much since he couldn’t due to the lacking space and the fact that they couldn’t spend more time together, mostly after one of her littlest sibling had caught a cold and she had to help her mother with him.

But she was a natural.

Whenever she would ride Charles, the horse would grow quiet under her, even quieter than when the horse was under him, making him call it a  “traitor”, although he had fun with the beautiful way she would laugh as the stallion would accelerate under her.

And then the day came.

She had come to his house that morning and she had helped him get ready, since he trusted her more than his usual suggestions as a male.

‘Oh but if it was for me, that awful moustache of yours would be off’ she mumbled immediately, but didn’t erase his mark, meanwhile she helped him slicking his hair and adjusting his elegant suit, a thing which would have been full of medals, but he had lost each one of them as he had moved in the North.

But from the long look she reserved for him, he knew that he hadn’t lost his charm,

‘She is a lucky woman indeed’.

‘Tonight, stay here’ he insisted as he was leaving, the previous day her brother had gotten rather upset because the smaller ones of her sibling wouldn’t stop crying, and both her sister were outside working their embroidery as some old lady’s house, so she was the one he had pushed his anger onto.

When she had come that morning knocking softly at his door, a bit earlier, he hadn’t been able not to notice that she was stumbling a bit, limping lightly and when her gown, a soft cotton thing, had raised up lightly he had seen an horrible hematoma on her ankle, which she had immediately covered as she had caught him looking at her.

‘I can’t… the town would talk…’ she blushed so graciously that Francis couldn’t help but be in awe, remaining a bit more on the threshold of the door.

‘Just stay here, I feel better knowing that you going to stay here, your brother wouldn’t notice it and you sisters can cover on you!’ he insisted, gently grabbing one of her hands to make her relax, which she did with a soft whimper ‘… you can stay here till the hour you usually go back in the city, and then take a shortcut, so that people will simply think that you have finished your turn of the day’

‘That is too nice, I can’t…’.

‘Make me go with one less worry, (Y/N), it’ll make my uneasy heart feel better’

And she had eventually complied, promising to take care of his small house.

‘Good luck, cowboy’ she had mumbled, smirking before he walked in the chariot ‘… and if it doesn’t work… we’ll know that it was all the moustache fault’.

He couldn’t help but smirk to himself at those words, in the chariot, the conversation he had had with her definitely helped to ease his anxiety.

The entire place where the event was to happen was extremely elegant and rich and Francis couldn’t help but feel at unease, definitely different from all the people that were dancing around the ballroom, meanwhile he stayed close to the angle with the alcoholics.

“Still a fan of scotch?” mumbled James, his old friend, the one who had informed him about Roweena, being the only welcoming face in the crowd, sitting himself beside him, being welcomed with a huge pat and an affirmative answer, which made the waiter pour them two glasses of scotch.

“… didn’t think that you liked these kind of things…?” he mumbled surprised to find his roughish comrade in such a beautiful and delicate place.

“I still don’t like them, but it is better to be seen in these kind of things… it helps” and he not only eyed the expensive bottles, but also the way new leaders and captains moved around the crowd, although many of them were young, he could still see many converted ex-South loyalists.

“… well then let’s hope this might be a good night for both of us” smirked Francis, moving to clink their glasses together, but James didn’t look convinced and mumbled.

“You need to know one thing before…”.

But his voice was interrupted by an announcement of something and soon Roweena was descending the elegant stairs in the center of the ballroom, but she wasn’t alone.

A man was on her side, holding her gloved hand and softly leading her through the light, till they reached the level of the ballroom and Francis’ ears were finally able to focus onto what the announcement was.

“To Roweena and David, the most beautiful couple in this room!”.

“She announced her engagement a week ago, she is going to marry some idiot from the North, the important thing is that he has money and influence, her aunt organized anything: she is pretty and he is rich, her lifestyle will continue on living…”.

Francis was taken aback by all the cynicism his friend spoke and immediately turned to him, as a bull who had just seen red.

“… how can you speak about my beloved like that?” the anger shone in his face, meanwhile annoyance appeared on his friend’s face.

“Wake up, Francis! I tolerated that… awful…shrew for your love, but I hoped it was this which made you realize who Roweena truly is…”.

“She must have been forced in this!” he shot back, not caring that they were attracting glares “… she promised me…”.

“… and any men who even looked at her!”.

The shameful words his friend spoke only angered him more, but as a proper gentleman he just decided to move away, so that his friend could reflect on his hurting words.

He had moved away, a bit and when he came back, he had lost sight of James, but Roweena had been left sadly alone, a perfect opportunity for him to take to finally talk with her.

Reassure her that his feelings for her hadn’t changed and that he was more than ready to run away with her.

She had seemed surprised to see him, but she had quickly welcomed him in a rather informal hug, immediately attracting the wondering eyes of many people around her, which sent him rather unpleasant looks.

But he was in Heaven in her arms.

Although he had to admit that he couldn’t help but feel a bit horrified by all the things around him.

“… oh Francis! I didn’t know you were going to be here!” although his arms had been welcoming, her voice held some kind of sick sweetness that honestly that was suddenly out of tune with the image he had of her “… you made me the most beautiful surprise!”.

“I just couldn’t be separated from you, Rowie” Francis tried to spark again that beautiful relationship that had blossomed between you two “… you look even more beautiful”.

And she did, but Francis couldn’t help but feel like there was some kind of fake edge to her, which ruined her usual candor.

“What are you doing, right now? I thought that the North wouldn’t forgive you”

“They did, once they saw me on a horse” he tried to joke, but all around him the faces were long and before he knew it, Roweena suggested that he accompanied her to have a little breather, outside.

And as he moved outside, she immediately lighted a little cigar, something that Francis couldn’t helo but classify as not very elegant in a lady, but he didn’t stop her, just shielding himself a bit, meanwhile he gently covered her lithe shoulders with his coat.

“… you truly surprised me, Francis” her voice now empty of any ringing sweetness, was dark and rough: it surprised him, indeed “… I didn’t expect you to be this resistant”.

“What do you mean Roweena?” he mumbled surprised, immediately throwing himself to her, gently collecting her small hands in his bigger ones “… I thought we had promised to wait for each other”.

And surprisingly, after his heartfelt discourse, Roweena laughed in his face and before he knew it.

She blew smoke in his face, an illusion as her pretty face and the manners she had shown him.

“You think that promises make the world goes around, Francis?” she smirked, meanwhile he pushed herself closer to him “… because I know for sure that it is money that makes it go around, and I want to be the one spinning it, if you know what I mean”.

All his memories of what Roweena had been shattered by that presumptuous woman, which looked at him like a little insect meant to be squashed by her heels.

“What about our countryside life? I can still give you that!” he didn’t know what he could say more to make her reason, go back to when she had loved him and promised to do so till eternity “… I have started building a small house… in the countryside… it is a small life but…”.

“I don’t want a small life, Francis, I never wanted it” she spoke with such a slowness that every words took a hit in Francis’ chest “… I only said what you wanted to hear, it works that way with men”.

And as she had walked in in a whirlwind of ribbons and crinolines, she walked out of Duncan’s heart and life, leaving him dumbfounded and with an aching heart.

He didn’t know how he had managed to finally come back from the entire failure, since he had then, without even questioning, drunk himself stupid, emptying two bottles of scotch, till his body begged him to shut down and lay down.

It had been Charles who had brought back home, and he had risked many times to fall but once he had arrived home, the heaviest part of the entire thing was to drag himself through the door.

Which he did, longing for his bed, but when he finally managed to fall onto it he found out it wasn’t empty, but a warm body was laying against it, soft and definitely feminine and although it made no sense, his body, in his drunken state, reached around for it, curling against it, feeling comforted by the welcoming way she relaxed against him.

A whimpered breath leaving her lips, a heavenly lullaby that, alongside her even breath, lulled him to a peaceful sleep.

He woke up the following morning because the body he had curled against the previous night started moving, away from him and, more out of subconscious conscience than actually wanting to keep her close, he brought her back onto him, cuddling to the warmth, till a whimper of pain surprised him.

And he realized to whom the body belonged.

(Y/N) looked at him, as he opened his eyes, the thin nightgown she had chosen definitely more form fitting than the usual clothes she wore, and her hair down from her usual updo, gently gracing and cornering her face in a beautiful frame.

She was honestly beautiful, any detail highlighted by the shy light of the morning and her body appearing extremely delicious, hidden in simply cotton.

“… Mr. O’Malley, what…? I thought…?” and then shame set in her, her cheeks flushing red “…I fell asleep waiting for you, sorry for sleeping in your bed, I’ll immediately change the sheets…”.

“There is no need for it” he couldn’t help but feel ashamed by himself, he shouldn’t have drunk so much, mostly because, although nothing had happened and they had both their clothes on (although that nightgown was oddly revealing and doing things in his mind), it was highly scandalous to sleep with any woman that wasn’t your wife, before marriage “… I don’t think that I am actually able to leave this bed, right now… I am feeling pretty… unwell…”.

“Then I’ll go and fix you breakfast!” anything to get herself away from him, this is what Francis saw in her eyes, embarrassment shading anything else “… so that you can lay down and collect yourself”.

And she had strutted away, almost tripping in her own feet, due to the quickness of her movements, just to get away from him.

It would have been almost funny, hadn’t he felt like his head was going to explode.

Left alone, he had to finally reason with the revelation that his plan for the perfect life with Roweena was now impossible.

The rejection hurt him, but what made him feel truly empty again was the thought that any solution he had thought for all his problems, the emptiness due to the loss of war, the sense of guilt for having passed on the other part and the horrid thought that his life was meaningless.

What was he supposed to do with all that knowledge and an half finished shithouse on the countryside.

He left his bed just when it grew cold, although the natural perfume of (Y/N) still lingered on his pillow.

The kitchen smelled amazingly, but (Y/N) wasn’t stopping a single minute to face him, in an awkward silence that honestly made him uneasy.

“… I am sorry for the accident of tonight” he knew that he had probably scared her this morning, he could only imagine the hell she had gone through for her drunkard brother.

“I am actually the one who should be sorry, master Francis, it was… I shouldn’t have fallen asleep…” she rambled, clearly nervous.

“There is no need for the ‘master Francis’ and I personally am the tone who should be sorry, again, for the incident, I might have drunk a bit too much, yesterday…”.

She relaxed a bit, gracing him with a more lighthearted smile.

She had changed in her daily clothes, a high-necked blouse and a long gown of a beautiful light blue, tending to gray, which lighted up her age but also showed the sign of somebody who had grown up too quickly.

“… it didn’t go well?” in your voice there was no judgement and he couldn’t help but shake his head, meanwhile he seated himself to the table, as you brought him coffee and what you had prepared, enough that it would last him for days.

“Would you mind sitting down with me?” he asked, a bit shyly “My head is spinning and you moving around makes me feel even worse”.

She obeyed, setting herself down on one chair, the farthest away from him.

“If she didn’t like the moustache, you can still tell her you’ll cut it off” her genuine suggestion brightened up the mood, making let out a soft laugh “…no need to get this sappy about it”.

“Thank you for the suggestion, but it is simply more complicated than that…” and although they had known each other for not much time he confessed her everything that had happened that night with Roweena, and she listened with attention, her gaze becoming sadder as she took his difficulties.

“I am sorry to hear that…” her hands slowly inched closer to his, although she didn’t dare to take it “… I know what it is like to feel like any plan that you might elaborated isn’t working, because something changed, but…”.

And she finally took his hand.

“… but there is going to be a woman who loves you, I know it, and in the meanwhile, all you have to do is pick yourself up and look through the bright side…”.

“I can’t honestly see it” he mumbled, grumpily, and smirking she made him raise his head lightly, becoming bolder with her touches.

“You have a nice job, and you are going to build yourself a nice house in the countryside, you also have Charles… and if the entire woman thing doesn’t work, you might get a dog… I am sure Charles won’t be jealous”.

He couldn’t help but finally let out a laughter, not all his emptiness was now filled, but he couldn’t help but feel a more lighthearted, comforted by her gentleness and sweetness.

“… you are pretty wise about heartbreak, experienced many yourself?” he didn’t mean to actually barge in her stuff, and he felt her retreat in herself, but still… she answered him.

“I haven’t had many lovers, I can’t offer a proper dowry and I don’t think about love…” she mumbled shyly, meanwhile she hid her gaze “… but lately… somebody has been… I have thought about somebody… in that way”.

“He is beyond lucky” he couldn’t help but think that somebody like her would be a perfect partner: beautiful, hardworking and constantly having something to be happy for “… I hope that he knows that…”.

“I haven’t… come forward with him” she mumbled rather shyly, removing her hand from his grip “I do think that I am not… what he is looking for… so I am just waiting”.

He raised his coffee cup and moved it towards her.

“To us waiting for the people of our lives”.

She simply smirked meekly and then set back to take care for anything.

Weeks had gone and soon it was Autumn and then Winter.

Francis had had to slowly renounce for a bit to his country house, but he was comforted by (Y/N)’s teasing presence, who hadn’t allowed any trespassing of their precious riding lessons, which had somehow brought them together, and in the end they weren’t anymore master and servant.

They were good friends, if not something more.

Hadn’t it been for the constant reminder of Roweena’s hurtful words, he would have maybe tried to court her, although the society would have frowned upon such a union.

But he had started caring less and less about society’s opinion.

But (Y/N) did.

And he respected her shyness, choosing to admire her from afar.

And then that night happened: it had been pouring rain and there was no way Francis could have let her go out in the coldness and weary weather, asking her to stay as a guest.

Through the passing of seasons, she had started staying far more in his house, more time than not, when he wasn’t there, busy on trips or social events so that it would be less scandalous, staying in the guest room.

He knew that it was a small refuge from the daily sadness of her life: her brother would usually hurt just her in a drunken fury to steal the money she made at Francis’ house, he would rarely touch his mother for some kind of conscience he had, and the mother always hid the smaller children, meanwhile her other sisters were many times away, staying at some old lady’s house where they ere employed as a seamstress.

Many times, he had wanted to march over to her house to fight off the awful man, teaching him to pick up a fair fight, but she always made him swear not to.

‘It would make him angrier and the village would talk about it’.

Still, whenever he saw her brother, he would throw him a rather meaningful glance that he had his eyes on him and he better behave.

He was aching for a reason to put him in jail once and for all.                                                            

He had let her stay that night, due to the pouring rain, and the morning he had let her sleep in, mostly due to the fact that she had overworked herself lately, helping her sister with some seamstress work and helping her mother at the farm.

He had thought about even getting her breakfast ready, although he couldn’t cook to save his life.

But this had unreasonably created a lateness to her, and although they had had a nice morning, she had had to rush the entirety of the thing, since she had known that her brother would already be wondering what was going on, since she didn’t know for how long her sister would cover her.

He hadn’t thought that her delay of a few minutes would cost her so much, mostly because their plans had worked many times.

Not that time.

When her brother had come from a night of drinking and gambling he had expected to find breakfast ready, but her sister hadn’t been able to cover for her, since she had been called in early, so when he hadn’t found what he expected he had gone crazy, wrecking the house, meanwhile her mother hid with the littlest ones.

So, when she had come home late, having stayed the entire night away, he had unleashed his fury onto her.

Francis had known about this when one of his officers had been asked to come to the house to sedate the fury of the brother, and instead of sending him he had gone there himself.

He had ridden Charles till the old house and there he had found (Y/N)’s sister, crying her eyes out, both her little siblings in her hands, immediately asking for his help.

He had rushed in, knowing perfectly that she must have been in danger, and he had found not only the house completely destroyed, but she was cowering in an angle, bruised and bloodied, an eye swollen enough that she didn’t seem to be able to open it.

And her brother was on the table, a bottle in front of him and their mother moving around the house to try to bring him breakfast, meanwhile he screamed.

And in that moment, he had been the one who had seen red.

He had rushed to the man, a pathetic little ignorant man, and had pushed him till the chair under him had fallen down catching him by surprise, but he was too drunk to realize the change of plan and Francis had done everything to a lighting speed, immediately coming across him and starting the fight.

The punch was the first of many, he didn’t think, he just saw the bruised face that (Y/N) had sported when he had at first walked in, and the only thing that stopped him were her small and ushered pleas.

She had dragged herself to him, her hand trying desperately to reach for him, meanwhile she asked and pleaded him to stop, not differently than she had done before with her brother.

“Please… mas…ter.. Francis… he is not worth it”.

He knew it all too well, but it hurt him to see her like that, and he disentangled himself from his brother, and gently brought her into his arms, raising her in them so that she wouldn’t be hurt and force herself through a painful situation.

“I am going to get my men to collect your son” he simply uttered at the (Y/N)’s mother who pleaded with her eyes to avoid such a strong solution, but he was unremovable “… this scum doesn’t belong in such an household”.

And then he exited with (Y/N) bloody and bruised in his arms, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder probably to hide some kind of uneasiness to her own vulnerability and he didn’t talk preferring to walk in science to his home, waiting there for a doctor who could examine her and bandage her wounds.

He could see all the town’s eyes on them, but he could have cared less.

He couldn’t help but think about how close she had been to death.

What would have happened hadn’t he been able to come to her, just in time?

He couldn’t think about that in the slightest, not when he was worried sick about her.

The sight of her bruised face was painful enough, because it spoke of extreme pain and he couldn’t help but be extremely worried on her future.

She had talked him and the doctor, once he had come, he had said she was lucky she had ‘such a thick head’ or she wouldn’t be alive.

He had checked her ability to move her body and although she did so with a painful breath it was clear that she hadn’t been injured permanently, although he had to bandage your ribs, since some seemed broken, a procedure which Francis hadn’t been able to stand, turning around to give her some privacy and because the sight of bruised skin honestly made him not only feel awful but also like he hadn’t done enough for her.

And certainly, like he hadn’t hit enough that bastard.

Also, her intellectual abilities weren’t compromised, for which he was even more thankful, because to ruin such a wonderful brain it would be a true waste.

“I am going to grab something in my office to help with the pain, I’ll bring it when I’ll come to check on her, tomorrow, right now it’s better if she is kept awake, it is good for her head”.

He had thanked the doctor and handsomely tipped him for the inconvenience and to keep his mouth shut, before he came back at her, she was facing the opposite wall, wanting to hide and shrink away from him, in a desperate fetal position.

“… do you want something to eat?” he didn’t know what to do.

She must have had an awful day and he wasn’t helping her much: he had beaten her brother…

… who had reduced her to a bloody pulp, but family was strong.

“… no, thank you” she sniffled, meanwhile she adjusted on her side, a little moan of pain leaving her lungs.

“What about a book?” he just wanted so damn to be useful, even with the easiest of asks “… I can read it to you”.

“I think that you have already done more than I deserved, Mr. O’Malley… I…” her voice was so low that it was just a simple whisper and hadn’t he been so still “… I am truly ashamed you had to see that… you must think so…”.

“You think that it is you who should be blamed for this?” his anger made her flinch, but it wasn’t directed at her “… you have no fault in this, you are the victim…”.

“I should have fought harder…” she tried to mumble, but he was unable to stop himself and his anger from flaring up.

“… and he should have never touched you!” because it was the damned truth, it wasn’t her fault in the slightest and before Francis knew it, she turned around: her face a map of bruises and hurt, and he found himself walking closer, no sign of fear in her eyes, just shame again “… I am sorry for not having stopped this sooner…”.

“It wasn’t your business” she mumbled, meanwhile he softly raised her chin, grabbing it between his thumb and pointer fingers helping her look at him, meanwhile she held back a soft whimper of pain “... I am still not your business”.

“You are, instead” he moved her so that she could stare at him in the eyes “You are so damn my business, with your gentleness and softness, and you deserve nothing more than this in the world, and I am sure that from now it is given to you”.

He made sure every world meant something for her and she looked at him like she did believe him, although there was still some kind of shyness in her eyes and he was more than aware about the fact that sadly he had gone too far, but… the little smile she sent his way… was worth it.

“Thank you for being there, Mr. O’Malley” the little smile turned in a devious smirk “… you aren’t so bad yourself…if you can overlook that awful moustache”.

“Well you are certainly back to normal!” he laughed out loud, truly relieved that you hadn’t lost your bite “… I am going in the kitchen to cook something, scream if you need help”.

Some time had passed since Francis had freed (Y/N) from the grasp of her brother and although the first days it had been simply to help her through her convalescence (although she was stubborn as hell, and many times she had tried to help him around the house), then he hadn’t been able to send her back to her house, although her brother had been sent to jail.

Hence, he wouldn’t annoy her, anymore.

He would make sure of it.

But somehow the permanence at his house had marked her in a bad way, since the entire town would talk about her as if there was some kind of illicit relationship between you two.

Old ladies would talk about how he had gotten stuck with her, thanks to some kind of evil plan of her and his lower officials would say even worse, using words he had long-since prohibited.

It almost seemed as if there was no exit, in this kind of situation: she couldn’t exit her house (although she would still go out to see her family, but they seemed to have excluded her from their core) without risking people looking dirtily at her, since her modesty had been shredded, in their eyes.

And she couldn’t go back to her family.

The only way was for her to stay in that city was with him…

Under a legalized bond, such as marriage.

He honestly didn’t have many chances after his loss of Roweena at marriage, and he couldn’t deny the growing attraction he was feeling for her, only enticed by the need to protect her, so he couldn’t help but feel like making her an honest woman might help her.

But he was aware that it wasn’t a simple question and one day, once he had come home, he had asked her opinion on the matter: starting from how she felt about the situation and what were her ideas to stop this behavior towards her.

“I don’t know how” sadness shone in her face, meanwhile she softly fidgeted with her hands “… I don’t know what I have to apologize for… I don’t know why my life is so angry about me… I just… I feel like hiding in this house is also not a proper solution”.

“You know that this doesn’t bother me” he mumbled “… but I might have an idea to solve this”.

Her eyes immediately brightened up: the “house arrests” were pretty heavy on her, although she tried her best to avoid showing the difficulties and the emotions that this rejection from society brought to her.

“… we might have to marry”.

Her eyes literally rolled behind her head for the surprised a.nd she almost fell from the chair.

“… what?” she mumbled, meanwhile he worried that it hadn’t been the brightest of her ideas “… you must be joking”.

“I am not” and he exited a little ring from his pocket, which he had picked up the night before “… I know this might be excessive… but if you marry me, they’ll leave you alone, although it is sad to say”.

“I know… I know…” she was looking at the ring, not daring to touch, which was definitely not good “… but… you don’t… you have no fault in this, you can’t always help me Mr. O’Malley, this is too much”.

“…it isn’t such a bad condition for me, you are already in the house every day, so it won’t change much, and I can’t think of anyone, after Roweena, so I don’t think that I’ll ever settle down…” he knew it might have been a bit excessive, but so were the society’s rumors “… people say I need to have a wife, and you need somebody who’ll quiet the rumors, so we are going to get married, we respect each other and have some kind of friendship; we are for sure better than many couples I know”.

She still looked back at him, confused and shocked, before slowly her hands reached to the ring, immediately retreating at last.

“You don’t want me as your wife… I am…” she mumbled, again nervous, looking at him in the eyes “… I can’t… what if you regret it?”.

“My heart has been broken since the end of the war, and when you came in my life, you brought some kind of solace in my life and I’ll forever appreciate you, as your eternal debtor”.

She looked once more to the ring and this time she gripped it in her fingers.

“Should I be surprised that it isn’t as tacky as your moustache?”.

“Be ready for a lot of tackiness in the future, my wife”.

The marriage had been rushed, but not enough that it seemed a coverage for an unexpected pregnancy.

Her sister and James had been their witnesses, she had worn a beautiful white dress, the best one he could have afforded, but she would have looked angelically even in rags.

The entire thing was more a quick need than an actual want, hence after the small ceremony was over they had retired home, thanking their few guests, who had wished them all happiness, although many of the people sent their way some dirty and annoyed looks.

Once behind closed doors, they had both let out soft and relieved breaths.

“… it is done” Francis mumbled.

“We are husband and wife” she replied, as if it was a shocking truth.

“… before anything goes further” he mumbled, immediately moving towards her, trying not to corner her, since she already had a blush going on, on her pretty cheeks “… I might be your husband, but you don’t owe me anything”.

Her cheeks definitely flushed, at what he meant: the duties of a wife were known to her, but he knew better than to push her, not after everyone in her life had done that.

They were similar in that: they both had been forced in things they hadn’t wanted.

And he didn’t even think that he could do something like that to her.

“…well before anything goes further, I also have a confession to do” she mumbled not even looking at him in the eyes “… you remember when I said I was in love with somebody…?”.

How could he not, he had wondered for entire days who that man was, if she would be heartbroken to have to marry him instead of the man of her dreams.

“… that man… well… it was you”.

And before Francis could properly reply to that outstanding confession, you ran away.

Since that confession she had been distant towards him: not careless but there was no way he could even feel like she was at ease with him, since she would constantly avoid him, whenever she could.

They might have been married now, but… they were more strangers than actual wife and husband.

The confession that she had fallen in love with him, had confused him, mostly because he didn’t want the feelings she harbored for him to be some kind of “reward” for his behavior towards her; he didn’t want nothing more than her purest form of affection.

The thought that she felt like she owed him something honestly made him feel sick at his stomach.

But now the town talked more secretively whenever she would walk out of their houses, and she had now some friends, other wives to whom she was slowly teaching how to read and write and Duncan had suggested she actually tried to get some teaching degree.

‘You are good at teaching, so you should try to get it certified, and you might open a little school here’ he had once mumbled, meanwhile she had told him about how many women sadly didn’t learn to read or write, and they kept in this horrible condition till the end of their days.

At the time she had simply blushed and nodded, but Francis had discovered soon that she had started getting some information on how to become a teacher and he couldn’t help but encourage her in secret, continuing with bringing her books, as some kind of gift for sticking for so long with him.

And then the ball of the town had rolled around and also (Y/N) had been taken by the frenzy of the choice of the dress and the thought of dancing around for the first time after entire days of pain.

She was definitely gorgeous, when she smiled so openly and naively, it was genuine and Francis was definitely addicted to that beauty.

Finally the night of the ball had come around and for the first time in month the looked like a true couple, with her hanging onto his arm, dressed up in a puffy but graceful green dress, the color mixed with light blue to catch better the lights and heighten her colors.

(He had to admit that when she had come down the stairs, almost running in that… thing, his heart had stopped beating and he was fucking sure that she was the most beautiful creature in the whole town).

(If not the entire world).

The ball was much smaller than many he had attended but it gave off some kind of familiar atmosphere and he felt comfortable with his pretty wife at his arm, finally laughing like she hadn’t in just so many days, softly showing her teeth in a ridiculous manner that made him want to kiss her pretty lips.

But he had to be the proper gentleman.

They still slept separated, but sometimes he would wake up from a nightmare, probably his screaming having woken her up and he would find her on the couch, a little candle illuminating the room and the book she was reading and which she proceeded to read out loud to lull him back to sleep.

He was dancing with some old lady that had stolen him from a laughing (Y/N), meanwhile she danced with a rather young courtier, one of the child of the wives she had been helping, who had started to court her, enough that Francis couldn’t help but be jealous of the way she would smile at him.

And then it happened.

Roweena had always been known for her grand entrances: once she had hired servants to carry her in a Cleopatra-way, something which should have told him what he was in for, a long time ago.

But the entrance she did, stuck in his mind mostly because there was no reason for her to here, so he wasn’t expecting her in the slightest and even if it might make him pass for an egocentric, he knew she had come back for him.

She had eyed him in the crowd and he immediately shifted away from the woman he was holding, moving towards (Y/N), collecting her in his arms, and sending the poor child a sweet smirk, promising him candies, meanwhile he tried to drag away his wife from the drama.

But it wasn’t enough.

Roweena reached them easily and she immediately clasped onto him, hugging him closely, meanwhile he felt (Y/N) nervous against him, stilling her movements, as she tried to pretend everything was fine.

“…ahh look at you Francis, making me come all the way from my honeymoon for you!” her voice was cheery enough that everyone had heard and it wasn’t a secret that everyone was looking at her.

“Roweena, what are you doing here?” he didn’t care that he was being extremely rude, but he didn’t want to waste any time, mostly when (Y/N) was still at great unease, clearly comparing herself to Roweena, since she was smart enough to realize she had been Francis’ first love.

“Ah, that isn’t a nice way to speak to a lady” she commented, but didn’t let his tone get in her way, tangling her arms together “… but if you must know, I am here for you”.

The last words of her phrases had moved onto a more confidential tone, as if she didn’t want (Y/N) to hear her, sending towards her a rather dirty look, that got on Francis’ nerves.

“.,, I have come here to take up your offer about having a nice life on the countryside” each words seemed forced out of her mouth, as if he had just obliged her to follow him, which was rather unlike him, but it still didn’t stop him from being ashamed “… the horses and the cattle, the entire thing, you know, I am ready for it”.

“… and what about your fiancé?” he felt (Y/N) beside you fidgeting nervously, as if she had wanted Roweena to get the hell out of their way as soon as it was possible.

But he, instead was making small talk with her.

“He isn’t…” Roweena for the first time since forever seemed at loss for words “… he was a big pretender…not definitely what I needed… and he made me truly appreciate what I had lost with you”.

Which meant that he hadn’t shown to have as much money as he was supposed to, to stay with Roweena, and to properly ‘take care of her’.

And she had gone back to him.

“… well that is quite the trouble” he hoped to sound as annoyed as he could “… but I don’t know how to help, I am not sure that my wife would appreciate me helping you”.

He saw and felt (Y/N) beaming against him, finally moving a step closer to him, smiling gently at her.

Kill them with kindness, indeed.

“…a wife?” she asked confused, meanwhile (Y/N) showed off her pretty ring, nothing too expensive but it made quite the work “… you married?”.

“Happily married” (Y/N) enforced, her hand immediately gripping his, before she laid a soft kiss onto it.

“… oh ahem…” she obviously didn’t know what to do anymore “…I didn’t know…”.

“Well now you know…” (Y/N) smirked, before she gripped tight Francis’ hand, turning just to leave her with a last message “… and I even like his moustache”.

And then they were both running away like two giggling teenagers, Francis trying to keep her dress from making her trip (which happened still), meanwhile she smirked, their eyes still entwinned.

They seemed a couple, and as they reached the outside of the ballroom, to properly breath more freely away from that society of conventions, he couldn’t help but feel like things were easier now.

So easy that with extreme gentleness and softness he moved to lay a sweet kiss on her lips, the first since their marriage, since she had allowed him to graciously push his lips against hers, in a shy kiss.

But in this one, although he still kept it shy, her lips came alive under his and before he knew it, she was the one leading the kiss, softly teasing his lips, mapping them out with her tongue, before her teeth tested the softness of them.

And it was all interrupted as her nose came in contact with his moustache, tickling it gently, enough that she had to separate herself from him, to sneeze making him giggle softly, meanwhile she hid behind her hands, clearly ashamed.

“I told you to cut that damn moustache” she snickered, not truly angry, and he gently pushed her hands away from her face, facing her pretty eyes and those delicious lips.

“…I’ll cut my beloved moustache, learn how to play the harmonica and build you a house on the countryside, if you promise to kiss me every day like that”.

Now the embarrassment on her cheeks was true and he thought he might have overstepped his limits, but then she gently moved closer and slowly and softly, but with a meaningful glance at their now-entangled hands, she smirked softly and reached out to kiss one of his cheeks.

“I’ll kiss you each day, my captain” she said “… moustache or not…”.

“Then why… why have you been so cold with me, all this time?” he knew that hadn’t he asked her this he wouldn’t be sure if his feelings were reciprocated as hers; she might have been scared by the ghosts of his past, when he would wake up screaming.

She might not want a traitor, and more importantly she might hate him for forcing her in a marriage, although he had been the one, she had loved, and she had confessed so.

“…I didn’t… it wouldn’t have been proper for me to express my feelings… when you were my master, mostly because… you had your feelings for Roweena… and when you came up with the idea of the marriage I thought you were doing it more out of pity than actual interest for me… and I… just was scared that what you felt for me, was not enough”.

He had thought the same, each night, since their wedding, when he had woken up alone, uncherished and without her by his side.

He might have harbored feelings for Roweena, but he had let them go, as soon as (Y/N) had entered her life, showing him the truth and the wonder that being loved with the same amount, meant.

He loved her.

He knew it.

And he would act on it, now that he knew she wouldn’t run away.

“Well than rest assured, milady” he mumbled, meanwhile he brought her by the waist closer to him “… what I feel for you is stronger than what I have ever felt for anybody else. All my life I haven’t chosen anything, and then you came in… and I chose to marry you, although selfishly… because I wanted you… and I hope you are happy, because we are stuck”.

“As long as you cut that horrid..!” before she could finish the sentence, Francis had lightly tilted her body, dipping her a bit, enough for her to have to rely on him for balance and as if that wasn’t enough, he kissed her, this time deeply and slow.

A sensual kiss, finally, one between two lovers.

Finally.

He pushed her against him, feeling the entirety of her warm body against his, meanwhile she simply smirked against the kiss, letting her mouth open after his tongue teased her lips, pushing itself through the little “o” which formed as she was surprised by how swiftly his hands moved from her waist to cup her buttocks, collecting the layers of her dress to pick her up in his arms.

As they separated, he twirled her around making her smirk, meanwhile she giggled and tried to make him stop, knowing all too well that although they were away from the main crowd, they were still in an extremely public place.

And they were indeed caught.

… by Mrs, Leipniz, their neighbor, an old widow who looked dourly at them, muttering something about ‘newlyweds not having any shame’, before she moved away and Francis felt her shivering, obviously embarrassed, but also cold.

“C’mon let’s go home” he muttered, gently putting her down, but keeping their hands linked in front of him, meanwhile he led her to their home.

He helped her out of his coat once they were inside, but she distracted him keeping on kissing all his face, meanwhile he smirked at her rushed affections, but he welcomed them, but as soon as she was out of the awful coat he could have a great look at her dress, meanwhile she twirled for him.

“You are freezing, babygirl” he mumbled as her freezing hands, settled onto his chest “… might I warm you up?”.

He wiggled his eyebrows making her blush but also smirk, meanwhile she just turned, setting up a meditative pose, as if she was thinking.

“… and how would you do that, Mr. O’Malley” she teased him, before a small kiss was sent onto his lips, just for her to retreat immediately.

“Well, I’ll have you know, Mrs. O’Malley…” he smirked at the way her name tasted in his mouth being said like that “…that I have a lovely fireplace in my room”

“But I also have one in my room” she murmured trying to appear completely unbothered by the entire thing, meanwhile she smirked at him, trying to run away from his arms, which only tightened the grip on her, making her giggle.

“Oh, but mine, little girl…” he smirked, pushing himself against her, so that the sexual innuendo was clearer to her, making her feel his excitedness through the layers of her too-covering dress “… is bigger”.

She giggled, completely red in her face, but she just nodded, before blowing a soft kiss to him and exiting his arms, caught by the distraction and rushing in Francis’ room, merely closing the door behind her.

He snickered, but quickly followed her, discarding on the way his jacket, remaining in a soft linen shirt, and his “more-than-properly-tight” pants, finding that she had also shed part of her dress, the full gown and her own jacket revealing some linen puffy underpants and her lithe corset, which was tightened over a sheer chemise, truly making Francis’ mind reach its most sinful thoughts.

“... you took your time, old man” she muttered, gently reaching behind her to unlace her corset, a lighter shades of blue with golden insert, and Francis moved closer to her immediately, slapping gently her hands away to undo the corset, in a newfound intimacy he loved with all his heart.

“… and you are taking too many liberties brat” he replied, pushing on her corset laces, effectively stealing her breath, something that made her take a deep intake of breath, suffocating whatever she was going to protest with “… I might have to punish you”.

He then moved and pushed onto the laces to effectively freeing her from that annoying garment meanwhile he laid passionate kisses onto her exposed neck, since her hair where in an updo, something for which he was thankful, although he had quite the passion for her hair being let down.

“Is that a promise, old man?” she spoke back, turning her face to him, gently linking their lips for a slow kiss, making him feel every crevice of her lips, meanwhile his fingers passed onto her body, letting the corset fall down her body, exposing the modelling nightgown.

“That is definitely a promise” he smirked, gently raising one hand onto her breasts, squeezing one softly in his hand, meanwhile your mouth opened, and he bit the tip of her ear, making her moan out loud “… and I always respect my promise”.

This was enough for him to feel her tremble beneath him, pleasure oozing from her lithe body and he knew it all too well that she was probably drenched in her garments and discovered this and much more as he probed softly her cotton underpants, before his hand slipped in them, stopping at the beginning of them.

“Want me to make you feel good, lovely” his other hand went to her hair and he pushed the main hairlock in it, letting them fall onto her shoulder, meanwhile she nodded, biting her lips, and his hand moved further, meanwhile her moans answered the question.

“… please, Francis… I…” and then she turned to him, the gentleness of her eyes didn’t hide the fire in them “…I can’t… I have waited long enough for this”.

And he didn’t dare to actually delay her wishes anymore and he softly slipped his fingers onto her mound, finding it indeed wet and warm, and not because of the burning fireplace, which was the sole light in the room, alongside some candles lighted up on the nightstand, permitting him to see her beautiful face, the way it contorted as his fingers came in contact with your secret.

But this wasn’t enough.

“Can you lay on the bed for me, lovely?” he asked, and although protesting against the loss of his hand, gently teasing her, but she laid, meanwhile he softly nestled between her thighs, already feeling the delicious smell of her arousal.

The knowledge that she was already this aroused because of him was making him quite crazy.

He rutted lightly against the bed, to relieve a bit of the pression on his own member and when he finally managed to focus on her again, he recognized that between him and that sweet nest of honey there was an obstacle: her underpants.

He almost wanted to rip them off, but he knew that this gesture might scared her, so he gently dragged them down her soft legs, meanwhile he revealed her nest, now barely hidden from some linen short pants, decorated by frilly parts in silk.

Her wetness had sipped through them, revealing the shape of her puffy folds.

And he pushed them down her legs, after the underpants, having her almost naked under him, the chemise the only thing covering her, and with the way she blushed as he raised his eyes to meet hers, and tightened her grip onto the hem of it, he didn’t dare also defraud her of that last shard of modesty.

He preferred for her to guide him when she felt ready.

But she had asked to make her feel good.

She had said she had waited for too long.

So, he shouldn’t make her wait any longer.

He dipped one fingers in between her folds, teasing her softly, more to see her joyful condition than to actually elicit any pleasure from her, which, still, sparked in his finger’s wake.

She gently pushed her hand into the sheets and raised her back off the bed, but immediately stilled as Francis found her that damned sweet spot he knew that would make her see stars, meanwhile her grip on the sheets tightened, and her legs came to close themselves onto his fingers, either to lock him there or to hide herself from her ashamed state.

He retreated his finger from that aching point just to collect against wetness being dripped by her folds just to douse it over her pearl, lightly swollen due to his ministration, continuing this a few times before it was enough that he felt like he wouldn’t hurt with his next moves.

“I am going to breach your innocence, my little girl” he said, raising her eyes to look at her, finding some kind of dark pleasure in them, a silent prayer, because it wasn’t enough “… it might be uncomfortable, but if you want to stop… you just tell me, won’t you, sweetheart?”.

“Of course, Mr. O’Malley” the way she addressed him, alongside the rough tone of her voice, arousal through it being evident.

“I might actually like the way you pronounce my name” he smirked, before he went down, nestling himself better in her nest, making sure that his shoulder blocked her legs so that she wouldn’t deny him access.

“Have you ever done this to anyone before?” there was some uneasiness in her voice, that made him stop from doing much more, making him raise his eyes to look at hers “… I don’t… I have never…”.

“Yes, I have done this before…” he felt disappointment in her eyes, alongside with her ducking her head away “… but I have never been in love with the person I have done this before”.

And to enhance the concept he kissed her thighs, till his breath was just onto her nest, making her moan lightly, meanwhile she screwed her eyes close, the knowledge that he loved her making her feel like nothing more could be more pleasurable.

“I… I am scared you won’t like… it… with me” she mumbled, meanwhile his tongue licked a little path from her inner thighs to the upper part, softly delimiting and mapping out the confines of her womanhood.

“You think too much, (Y/N), there is nothing in the world that you could do to make me feel like you aren’t perfect to me” he definitely felt like she was a bit more relaxed and then inched his finger between her folds, holding it here, meanwhile he moved up so he could kiss you as he slipped his first finger inside her, and immediately she bit down on his lips.

He tried to ease the gentle pressure with a softer touch of his lips, but it was enough with the way her walls tightened around his finger, not wanting to let it go, that he knew it was enough, and that she was starting to feel pleasure.

He still checked in her eyes, which had rolled back a bit, and when she rutted lightly against it.

And he was completely loss in the adoration of the way pleasure overtook her, and he gave her what she needed, pumping lightly his finger in and out of her, till he knew that it wasn’t enough anymore and he moved his lips onto her folds, before they raised onto her clit and he softly kissed it, before he started sucking on it, making her moan loudly and her fingers, unwillingly, treaded in his hair.

She pushed him, meanwhile her legs closed around his shoulder, trembles of pleasure going through her and he knew that she was almost there.

She just needed a little push, or better… a little crook of his finger, meanwhile his tongue started lapping more languidly her pearl, making him feel every inch of it, stimulating her till she was oversensitive and when pleasure came… she screamed.

She contorted over the bed, the evidence of this never having happened, was clear in in the movements of her body, ecstatic and honest, and definitely divine with the way her juices flowed in his mouth, the taste better than anything he had tasted, and he passed a few minutes slurping anything he could from their natural source.

And when she pushed him away from the hair, in a rather tight grip, which only excited him, and she brought him in a kiss, a messy kiss, collecting some of her own juices in a desperate attempt of passion, in a show of tongues that lead her to take the upper hand, inverting the positions.

Now she was on top of him, and he wasn’t sure he minded it at all, now with the way her thighs pushed onto his hardening bulge, which was becoming more and more desperate, searching for friction.

“I do think that I want more” she murmured, almost reaching his lips, before she turned back, and one hand reached down his pants, although an adorable blush coated her cheeks “… I have tasted corruption and I don’t think that I can stop”.

He smirked simply, reverting again the positions and making her giggle.

“Well that is good because I have no intention to stop…” he giggled, pushing down his pants and undergarments with them, meanwhile another hand tasted the wetness and readiness of her soft nest “… and little girl, get ready for the final shred of your innocence being forever stolen”.

“I can’t believe that you are reading those things, when you have a man of bones and skin in front of you” mumbled annoyed Duncan, meanwhile you turned another page of the romance you were reading before bed.

Romance books had always bene your guilty pleasures: they made you relax, alongside the fact that whenever Duncan wasn’t with you they were your own way to have a bit fun with your body, since the smutty description could be quite “steamy”.

You hadn’t been able to put down, still, your latest romance reading, not only because it was definitely a slow-burn romance, but the male character also sounded like Duncan, hence you had been too busy trying to finish the book to actually dote on your real “boyfriend”.

“Just give me a few minutes… we are getting to the interesting part” you mumbled, trying to hush your boyfriend, but whenever Duncan was bored and not receiving enough attention, he was prone to particular vexations towards you.

And in this case, he literally stole the book from you, before discarding it rather ungently away from you and throwing it in an angle of your shared bedroom, making you scream at him in protest, but he immediately stopped any response of yours kissing you and pushing himself on top of you.

“… I think that I can offer you more entertainment than some stupid book” he smirked as soon as he retreated from the kiss “… I am definitely better than Captain O’Malley”.

“Oh, are you sure?” you smirked, feeling like you had just gifted yourself a wonderful night of sex “… won’t you show me, Captain Shepherd?”.

----

As always... any feedback is more than welcomed and encouraged, I am always curious to know what you think of the shit I write, and I hope that you’ll appreciate it!

Also I do have to warn you that I have been having some personal problems and I haven’t felt like writing much so I am sorry if the next fics might take some more time!

And here are to the one who wanted to be tagged!

@so-langdon​ @blakewaterxx​ @emmyrosee​ @lovelylangdonx​ @1-800-bitchcraft​ @kaetastic​ @frenchbread4ever​ @lathraios​ @rosegoldrichie​ @rocketgirl2410​ @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern​ @forgivemelucifer​ @antichristfern​ @lonely-cloud​ @elena-75s-blog @ashyblondwaves​ @kleineshaschen​ @dyns33​ @vintagepink​ @langdondelrey​ @chloewinchester13​ @luthienshavenlove​ @ confusedafsthings @venusbloodlust​ @coezals​ @vixenmare​ @soph3218​ @baby--yoda​​ @omegaaislynn​​ @im-the-music-whore​​ @melodylangdon​​

[specdracers]

LANDON BENNETT + THE MOMENTS THAT MADE YOU 

"thought i got through it, maybe i didn’t ; thought it was over, maybe it isn’t.”

          he’s five years old in southern alabama, and he’s at the first foster home he can remember. landon’s happy. the parents are kind; there’s another little boy here, and they become friends. it’s like he finally has that brother he’s always been wishing for. at this point, he’s too young and naive, not having seen the harsh reality of the world. he thinks he’s going to be able to stay, the parents seem nice enough. his belly is full and the clothes are new, and the foster parents make it seem like he’s going to stay there for the rest of his life. he grows used to it, growing far too attached to the family, and there’s even talk about him being adopted! ( but he’s too young to really understand what that means. ) but he finally learns that all good things must come to an end when the social worker comes to the door and his foster parents have already packed his bags. he can’t remember what they tell him, probably blocked it out. but as he gets into the van and his friend waves goodbye to landon from the door, he can’t help but wonder what he did wrong as he’s being brought into the next house.

          now he’s eight and in the third grade. he isn’t too cynical yet, but he’s known to be a loner amongst his classmates. he’s so, so young and he’s already learned that things are better if you keep people at a distance. he does pretty well in classes, getting by with what’s available at the home he’s at. the foster parents are okay, but he’s convinced they’re just doing it for the extra money because the mom just got laid off. the teachers look at him with sad eyes most of the time but he’s grown so used to it. the report card goes home with comments about applying himself and getting out of his shell to make friends. but he always ignores it ; why try to make friends when everyone inevitably leaves him?

          middle school is rough for everyone, but for landon, at the age of twelve, he hates it with his entire being. kids aren’t kind, and he’s already gotten into so many fights. they think it would be easy to pick on the kid from the crappy group home on the wrong side of the tracks, but little do they know that he sometimes has to fight over his food when he leaves to go home at night⎯⎯ he’s learned how to throw a pretty nice right hook by now. but this time, they’re not picking on him ( thankfully ). instead it’s another boy, one that he knows just moved into the group home, and they’re talking about his clothes, or his shoes, maybe his hair? landon can’t remember, but he just thinks of how many times he’s been in that position and within seconds he’s on top of the bully, seeing everyone who has ever hurt him until the gym coach has to pull him off. 

          it’s freshman year of high school, and he’s on the bus to the town’s high school, knees pulled into his chest. and even though he’s trying his best to not get his hopes up, fourteen year old landon finds himself praying to every higher power in the universe that high school won’t be nearly as bad as middle school, he doesn't know how much more he can take of it. the bus pulls up at a huge building with teens all around the front, and he already begin to hide, drowning out the chaos with his headphones blasting 90s rap. a small part of him wants to make friends, but it’s been so long he’s forgotten how. so instead, he walks around the crowded high school hallways, hood pulled up as he ignores pretty much anything and anyone. it’s like this for months, him going through the motions and his teachers are always shocked when landon actually turns in work. they know he has the capacity of doing it, he just lacks the motivation for well, anything. 

          sophomore year, and his classmates are beginning to get their licenses and cars as they turn sixteen and he’s jealous. he knows he won’t be getting one, he’s not stupid. that doesn’t prevent him from walking around with a chip on his shoulders. landon’s developed quite the temper over the course of his adolescence, and he doesn’t take shit from anyone. he’s the poster child of teenage angst, a tongue that’s wicked quick and fists sometimes just seeming to itch for a fight. people take note of this and for someone who has always wanting to be invisible, he gains a reputation around the school. his teachers mutter it’s a coping mechanism, the poor boy’s never known a family. and they’re right, but they could at least have the decency to not say it when landon’s within earshot. 

          it’s about halfway through his sophomore year and all the rich kids are talking about their holidays down to florida for christmas when he’s approached by a group of boys. he knows who they are; while landon has a reputation of getting into fights some days, that’s about the most trouble he causes. but this group? it’s a whole other animal compared to getting into fights because someone looked at you wrong. they’re the type to get into trouble with the law ; it’s just petty robbery most days, but when they come to him asking if he wants to join, they say they need a driver, he can’t say no. he’s gone his whole life without being wanted, so he takes the first chance he can when sometimes says differently. 

          junior year comes around, and the boy just turned seventeen. he’s still with the same group of friends, and landon’s become the stereotypical stoner. comes to class high, sits in the back, and his teachers are still amazed at how landon manages to scrape by in his classes. it’s almost time for him to start applying to colleges ( as if he’s ever planned to go ) and he laughs in the counselor’s face when she says that he’s no future ivy league student but she knows he would have a good chance of getting into auburn ; what type of backhanded compliment is that for a seventeen year old boy? he leaves the office, throwing away the brochure for auburn as he leaves. 

          this is the year where landon knows he’s on the wrong path, but he doesn’t care. his friends and him wreak havoc on their town at night in a way of graffiti and breaking shit in alleyways. but one day as they’re walking down the street, his friends attempt at a robbery of a small convenience store ( the old guy was far too scary for these amateurs. ) too bad they were too dumb and didn’t even attempt to cover their faces and the store’s camera catches their faces. and after school the next day, the cops pull up arresting all of them. it’s quite a scene, and landon makes sure to smile for his peers’ cameras as he’s getting pushed into the back of a cop car. hours go by, and landon’s told that he’s free to go, considering the fact they didn’t steal anything and they are all minors. when he gets home, the old foster parents he had been staying tell him they’ve had enough of his bullshit. that they’ve tried to get through to him but he’s a lost cause. landon takes this as them basically pushing him out of the house, and he knows that the next day he’ll be whisked away to another home until he’s phased out of the system. with a quick and heartless ‘ fuck you ’ to the couple, landon stomps out of the door and to the closest bus stop with only a backpack full of clothes. after, he’s made his way to new york with the small amount of cash that he had saved for a rainy day ; he’s learned through his years that he always needs an escape plan. but just because he has an escape plan doesn’t mean he has a damn clue about what to do after the fact. 

          eventually, he figures out a way to survive. not many places hire high school drop-outs so he gets a job waiting tables. it’s not a lot, but it’s something. he’s staying in a halfway house that he found, and while there are plenty of unsavory characters around, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. he saves up just enough to get a shitty apartment that’s more like a closet, but it’ll have to do for now.

          he’s twenty now, and he’s working probably close to three jobs a week just to make ends meet. landon is many things, but the one thing that his friends in new york can’t call him is lazy. his friends are a slightly older than the twenty year old, and he never really knows what type of jobs they do, but he knows whatever they do pays well. they have the nicest clothes and shoes, and he tries his best to not get jealous of them. one day, his friends ask him about his driving, and he laughs, saying they’re in new york and he grew up poor; why the hell would he need a car? but they explain to him that that wasn’t the question, and landon’s confused. he’s never told them about fucking around as a high schooler with his friends, doing donuts in the grassy fields of his hometown. when he tells them that he’s pretty decent, there’s a special kind of glint in his friend’s eye. 

          a year later, and twenty-one year old landon is in the middle of a crime-ring. did he mean to? absolutely not, but it beats having to wait tables with rude customers anyday. he’s moved out of the closet that his landlord had marketed as an apartment and moves in with his friends. and for once, landon is happy. he has friends that want to be around him ( granted they’re all criminals but at least they’re bonding! ) his clothes are nice, and he drives a decent car on a daily basis. for the time-being, he forgets what it’s like to constantly be worried about everything being taken away from you. and then it becomes too late. 

          it’s a STUPID easy job, the words of nolan ring through his head over and over again as his torso is flush against the hood of the cop car. it had happened so fast, all landon had to do was just drive and he obviously couldn’t do that very well considering him and his friends are all going to be thrown in jail because of his own stupidity. he can’t look at his friends, knowing that it is his fault that it happened. it’s almost like he blacks out before he finds himself handcuffed in front of a detective wanting to know more information about who he and his friends work for. and even though it’s his fault for getting everyone into this mess, he’s not a snitch. at all his questions, landon sits across, silent with a stupid smug grin across his features. his only demands have been a lawyer. did law and order lie to him? he’s always thought they couldn’t interrogate him until a lawyer was present. and soon, someone walks in and the detective leaves and he can only assume it’s a lawyer. 

          but it isn’t. it’s some instructor from a school called gallagher and all landon does is laugh. he doesn’t take it seriously for the first couple of moments, but the eerie stare of the instructor shuts him up enough. at first, he refuses. he argues, what about his friends? what about their freedom? surely, there’s room for them at the school too, right? but the solemn shake of the instructor’s head gives landon all the answers he needs. he decides to go with them, the charges dropped and he’s free, but he isn’t happy about bailing on his friends. 

          at gallagher, twenty-two year old landon is majoring in driver’s ed. it’s such a lame name in his eyes for such an exciting major, but he loves it here ( despite always acting like he’s too cool for it ). he’s known to be a little shit once again, but landon makes it fun. for once, landon feels like he has a home.

[hardboiledfollower]

We gotta talk...

So, I kinda debated making this post. But, I think that I’m just gonna say it. Tumblr has a “xenophobia” problem.

I say that to mean two things: 1. People here rarely talk about subtle xenophobia and/or tend to accidentally dismiss it as “not as bad as other forms of oppression” and 2. People here have a tendency to actually be subtly xenophobic, mostly by accident, when talk about “immigrant demographics” as a whole; groups that people associate with immigration, Latin, Asian, etc.

So what do I mean? Well, here’s a few things that I’ve seen on here.*

Non-Americans try to explain their experiences with “racism” (really xenophobia, they’re using the wrong term) and be haughtily told that what they’ve experienced is xenophobia (which is true but don’t have an attitude about it) and them keep being punched down. Why do I think this xenophobic? Because, by being so rude and dismissive about it, you’re making the implication that xenophobia is not as important as racism or whatever they got confused with and the person experiencing it should sit down and shut up.

Non-American complain that Tumblr, the web in general, political attention, anything is so American-centric and their issues are never addressed because of that. Only to be haughtily told that they have no right to complain because this is an American site or whatever so they should sit down and shut up and not complain so much (do you see a pattern here?) Why is this xenophobic? Because people forget that the sites they complain about; Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, etc. are also used by people from all our the world and are in different languages. They are not just “American”. We could go to our “own sites” but we wouldn’t Reach out to so many different people if we did. You wouldn’t say the same thing if it was something like TikToc.

Venezuelans talk about their awful experiences living in Venezuela to spread awareness only to be told that there are some ultra rich conservative from Florida. Or told that there not really Venezuelan because why would they be typing in such good English. Or be Americansplained why America is really the ones at fault and how Maudro is just some poor victim who was fairly elected and not a human rights abuser and dictator who’s been rigging elections in Hugo Chavez’s favor (until he died) since 2005. That they should sit down, shut up and let us educated Americans stand up for them against the big, bad American invasion that is totally happening. I really don’t think I should explain why this is grossly xenophobic. It’s incredibly white savior-y (even the guy doing it isn’t white), incredibly ignorant of global politics, American-centric, is clearly just using a foreign country’s struggle for American political gains (because I’ve not seen an of y’all talk about Venezuela’s struggles after it went out of style)

People automatically assuming that just because you’re from not American or painting a entire different culture or religion as some sort of ignorant conservative or racist or homophobic or sexist, etc. Why is this xenophobic? Because, obviously, not everyone from a specific culture is like that. Because you are associating an entire people with an awful thing; something that they are also the victims of. Implying that we are ignorant foreigners who need to be enlightened by the more cultured westerners. Just because most Latin Americans cultures have racist pasts and elements don’t mean that all Latin people are not aware of this and don’t try to fight against it. You shouldn’t be waiting for somebody to slip up; just assuming the worse of them because you think the worse of their people and culture.

This is probably the most frustrating but it piggybacks off my last point. Which is Americans using the same xenophobic talking points that actual bigots use against a group when talking about important issues. I.E. talking about chronic anti-blackness in the Latin community ( a very, very important talking point that I agree with and should be talked about more honestly ) but bringing up violent MS-13 gangs and complaining that we’re moving into their neighborhoods. Or saying we need more Latin representation in movies but saying that this one doesn’t count because she’s lightly olive-skinned and dose not show off her culture enough so she’s “white”. Or saying that we don’t have our own social movements and are lazy and wait for others to create them for us.

Why is this xenophobic? Because they’re using the same rhetoric against us. Latins are not taking over your jobs and bringing violence. They’re taking over our neighborhoods and ignore their violent gangs that terrorize us; ignoring that we are very aware of these gangs because they mostly target other latins. Not all latins look the same. But they better in movies and they better be flaunting it constantly because how will I know that they’re Latin; even though her actress is Latina and acts using an accent and no other characters is told to flaunt their culture 24/7 for it to count. Latins aren’t lazy and mooching. Except they are because they steal our ideas. Ignoring things like the Chicano movement of the 60s, Ceasar Chavez, Filipino activist; Larry Itliong and the Delano grape strikes, the immigrant rights movement of the past few decades, #undocumented and unafraid. Ignoring that we do fight for ourselves, that’s it kinda hard to unite a community made of various and completely different countries and cultures, that we might have different priorities as a community at the moment, etc.

My point isn’t to punish people or make you feel bad. It’s to make you aware. So that people can learn to be better. So that true internationally can be possible. So that xenophobia is more well known. Because it’s not just cartoon bigotry. It’s not just complaining about illegals and locking kids in cages and building a wall and demanding someone speak English. It’s silencing immigrants and non-Americans. It’s assuming the worse of us and making assumptions. It’s saying that mean “you’re from a bad culture. I shouldn’t trust you.” And I know the people who say these things care sabot our causes. That they want to help. But, this is not the way to do it.

* Note: Most of the issues I’ve talked about concerned the Latin American community for one reason. I’m Latin American and I don’t feel comfortable talking about how this affects other cultures because I’m not exactly sure how this affect every single culture. Still, please note that this does affect other groups as a whole.

[all-the-heart-you-cannot-see]

i just finished Elite S2

so here goes the opinion no one asked for WARNING, spoilers ahead (duh) and a long ass character analysis (kinda, im not a film student, sorry, its mostly me being kind of bitchy about everyone lol)

just like my last one, i’ll talk about Characters, starting with the new ones.

Valerio, the most scandalous of the three (and he had good competition) i have nothing agaisnt his character, except for the fact that he is a cliche (except for the incest, that’s a first) i like him, i like what he brought to the show and i like how the season ended for him, what i absolutely hate, is how the handled his drug abuse. no one seems really concerned with the fact that he is basically destroying his life and every time rehab is mentioned is just brused off in a joke or something, i really hope he ODs or something in the next season so something is done for the poor child. as for the incest, as scandalous and taboo as it is it kinda made sense for him to feel the way he felt, i mean clearly his father doesn’t like him one bit, and i don’t think his mother is any different, plus, without that whole thing Valerio’s character would have been nonexistent cause half of the time he was just there to act like a complete fool cause he was high.

Rebeka, she was ok, i don’t hate her but im also not super into her, i don’t have much to say about her, i like how she always responded to Lu, the girl needed the competition, i like what she does to Samuel, it made him less lame than the last season and i like how Cayetana calls her out about them being sort of, kind of the same. she is nice, didn’t had much of an arc apart from getting samuel into shady bussiness...but yeah, she was ok.

Cayetana, i like her character, tho i feel like she is a little bit the same Polo was on the first season, they don’t do much, until they do the thing and everything becomes a mess. i see people hate on her because of how manipulative she is and, listen, i absolutely HATE the way she treats her mother, that is not redimible, but out of all the terrible things other characters do (kill, publish personal videos, uncover murder, uncover a drug trafficking bussiness, among others) stealing from rich people, is pretty light grey on the moral scale compared to the other ones. And i like her, she is pretty smart, knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. does she have bad qualities? sure, a lot, but i still like her, fight me.

Carla, my love, my life, i still love her to death. is she a bad bitch? sure, but she is a bad bitch with feelings, i have mixed feelings about her relationship with Samuel, on one hand, they were pretty darn cute in every scene they weren’t trying do discover/uncover murder, on the other, i don’t like Samuel, so i don’t want him with Carla lol. Maybe i’ll be more inclined to hate on the “bad” characters if i had cared about Marina’s murder, but i didn’t, and i still don’t. So did Carla do a lot of shady and inmoral things? sure, do i care enough for that to make me hate her? no, i love her personality, i love her character, and i still love her.

Lucrecia, a bit more depth was added to her this season, i think we can all agree Guzman was very hot headed even before Marina died so i can only think about all the things Lu did for him, i mean that scene at the end of season one? that was pretty heavy, Guzman was with Lu because he needed her the same way he needed his mother, but not because he actually loved her as a romantic partner, and Lu might be a bitch, but she didn’t deserved to get played with like that. BUT all the sympathy i had for her went away on the last episode when she made Nadia’s video public, that was fucked up. I like her as a character but i don’t like her character, i don’t know if im being clear. i like what she brings to the story, but she is still a bitch and needs to apologize to Nadia.

Guzman, he was annoying to me for the first part of the season, he was acting like an idiot and did he have a reason for it? sure, his freaking sister just got killed, i would get crazy too, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t annoy me the same way it annoy Lu and Nadia, i get it boy, you are sad, but that’s enough, there are healthier methods, ok? he also doesn’t do much, he spends most of the season wondering what’s wrong with his life, playing with Lu and Nadia until the last episode where he realizes what has been going on and hides Samuel.

Nadia, the acting in this one was phenomenal, the scene where she breaks down in front f her parents, SOMEONE GIVE THE GIRL A FUCKING OSCAR, as for her storyline with Guzman and her religion...i have nothing against Nadia wanting to experiment and doing things she shouldn’t do because she is in love, and she is a teenager and she doesn’t want to miss out on those things, but at the same time, i wish they used her religion for a porpouse other than to show how unhappy she is. Sure, it can be hard not to be like everyone else, but for many muslims (and people from other religions with the same kind of rules) their faith is not a cage, like it seems to be for Nadia. So sure, give me a girl that fucks up and kind of abandones her religion, but also show me what her faith gives to her (i strongly recommend watching clip 4 from s4 of Skam, “the best of Islam”, it’s what i would like to see in Nadia)

Samuel, he is not as lame as he was in season one, but i still don’t connect with him, i don’t hate him, or his character, he is just pretty meh for me, again, maybe i’ll like him had i liked Marina in the first place, but i didn’t care that much, kudos to him for figuring everything out and thinking of that plan, a thing that i didn’t really get was him almost killing his brother...the poor guy has been in jail the whole time, all he knows is Carla killed Marina and almost killed Cristian because he was going to confess, so yeah, i think is reasonable for him to think that you are in danger if he sees Carla kissing you, you dumbass, next time just tell him whats going on instead of punching him to unconciousness. 

Polo, he didn’t have much of a personality in season one, but damn the change in season two. he is insecure, sure and suffers from anger/panic attacks (?) but that doesn’t mean he isn’t as calculative and smart as Carla, i feel like the only reason he was such a puppy going after her in season one is precisely because of his anxiaty and insecurity, but once he starts to find confidence he stops being a puppy and starts becoming a bit more like his former girlfriend, in that sense they truly do deserve each other. about him i feel pretty neutral, about his character whitin the story, i think is pretty amazing, and im kinda hoping he doesn’t end up in jail.

Ander and Omar, i don’t have that much to say about them, compared to all the other drama the drama they go through feels insignificant even if its not. i love that they didn’t break them apart, i love how they handled the struggles of their relationship, from how hard it was having to hide, to how things changed once Omar could be more of himself, i also loved that change, i loved Omar’s speach to Ander’s dad, it was spot on and it deserved an standing ovation, in this whole mess Omar seems to be the only one with common sense i swear,he should share his braincell with the rest of them, cause they desperately need it.

Finally,

Cristian and Nano, i dont have much to say about them, i liked Nano’s character progression, it was obvious it was going to end that way, he already wanted to leave in season one, and obviously his relationship with Samuel would never be the same now after all that has happened, as for Cristian...i think the fact that he was written off this season just shows how unnecesary he was in season one, cause apart from giving the power moment that was Carla giving her mother the middle finger as she ran with two guys to hook up, i can’t think of anything else Cristian did for the show in season one, apart from being the comedic relief (that hey, Valerio filled that position with ease)

so that is what i think about the characters in Elite S2, i know how mean i sound lol but i actually love the show and i can’t way to see how they will untangle everything that they’ve done so far

[alfredosauce50]

Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 2

Wordcount: 2,246 The reader is referred to as she/her

After another slow day at work, you closed up the shop. Throwing your satchel on your shoulder and walking out to the front door, your subconscious forced a sudden jolt to stop you in your tracks. You scrunched your face into a strange expression, a weird little feeling inside you that you couldn't shake off. Perhaps it was paranoia. Paranoia that directed your attention back over to the counter with a small black box sitting on it. You felt a sigh escape your lips as you made your way over to it and pick it up. "Stupid Allen..." you murmured, finally able to exit out of the small building to lock it shut once and for all. "He always forgets his phone."

So, instead of catching a bus back to your own house, you needed to get off one stop early to return a little something to your friend. Sometimes you wished that you owned your own car, but Allen would always tell you to borrow his instead. Something about saving up for the greater good, he always said.

You felt a few wet sprinkles dot your skin, causing you to lift your head to see where it was coming from. You only wound up staring up at the sky, rapidly dulling into a darker grey as masses of dirty clouds fused together. The light sprinkling then slowly built up into larger droplets, forcing you to pick up the pace and run over to the safety of the bus stop. You spotted another figure standing under the shelter, to where you assumed to be another one of your neighbors. About to go and greet him, the words in your throat were jumbled up when you caught sight of who the person was. And he was not your neighbor.

Narrowing your eyes that were shining in curiosity and awe, you gave him a good look over. He was dressed so primly and fine that it looked like it was cut straight out of a men's fashion magazine. Thank god he had his attention directed at the awfully large and expensive phone he held in his fingers or else he would have caught you ogling at him.

Despite that, you felt your lips curl into a little smile when you watched him glance up and step onto the vehicle. Following suit, you quickly paid for your fare and took a seat just behind him. Without even glimpsing at him to remain stealthy, you didn't notice him flicker his cerulean blues over to you for a moment. Too bad you were too focused on not focusing on him you couldn't see those beautiful blue eyes.

He stood at a rather tall stature that you could even say he was as tall as Allen, if not taller. You were unable to steal a peek at his face to identify him, but you could tell from the crisp white button down shirt that he was wealthier than all... And what was that? It was a golden watch wrapped tightly around his wrist that glimmered under the small remainder of light that survived in the rain. His hair was similar to that of Allen's, except it was a clean, light shade of sandy blonde that you never thought you'd ever see in the flesh in this town.

The rumbling of a bus hummed in your ears. You ripped your gaze from him and you shook your head. "Staring is rude..."

Clutching Allen's phone in your hands, you turned your head over to the window to stare at anything that flew past. No matter how long the ride was, nothing particular in the poor setting would ever change. As retail buildings slowly disappeared, it was replaced by a residential area, with small houses with undefined shapes and clothing lines out in the front.

A few minutes had droned by, with different people stepping off and on. Soon, it was Allen's stop and you gathered your things to stand up. The blonde in front of you stood up as well, dusting things you couldn't even see off his arms. That was when you thought you were going to suffer from a panic attack as you walked over to the doors to get off. You didn't dare to touch him, accidentally or not. His broad shoulders were a feature of his, and it appeared as though it would land you in hospital if you were bumped by him.

The last little ray of light that was emitted from the sun had disappeared, replaced by a bright moon overhead. Stepping carefully onto the grass next to the pavement, you began walking in the direction of Allen's house, only to realize that he was walking in the same direction.

How could this get any weirder?

Cupping your mouth with a hand, you tensed up but still managed to move your legs. As you trailed slowly behind him, he walked in a rather... Interesting style, his hands in stuffed in his pockets with his head glancing around occasionally. On the other hand, you were awkwardly strolling behind him hoping to yourself that he didn't assume you were about to mug him from your seemingly stalkerish behavior.

The walk was long and silent, but you eventually made it to Allen's neighborhood no longer than five minutes. As you turned a corner to his street with the eye candy of a stranger in front of you, your dazed self stupidly bumped into him when he suddenly slowed to a stop. Your heart broke into a rapid thumping frenzy before it sank when he turned his head over to you, so slowly that it hurt.

You shut your eyes tightly and felt your soul start dissipating into nothing. "I'm so sorry!" You blurted, taking a step back from him. You didn't expect this, but you felt two hands rest on your shoulders. Screwing open your eyes, you met with two of the bluest irises behind a pair of rimless glasses. "Oh!" you gasped, backing away from his face that was bent down to your level.

His lips stretched into a smile and he laughed. "It's okay! It's getting dark after all," He replied, withdrawing his hands from your shoulders. His voice was strangely child-like, and it sounded as though he was the happiest man on the planet. You nodded furiously, clutching the bag strap tightly. "... Alright," you muttered. "I guess I'll be off then..." You then brushed past him, picking up the pace to your destination.

"Hey, wait for me! It's not safe for you to walk around alone at night." He called after you, jogging up to your side. You blinked, feeling your cheeks and ears suddenly start burning when you felt his presence close with yours.

"No, it's okay! I'm sure you have places to be," You smiled, "I always come here, so it's fine."

"Oh yeah? But isn't this place kinda dangerous?" He asked.

You blinked. "... Not the safest place I guess. But I know everyone around here, so..."

The man walking by your side obviously wasn't local. You'd never hear a member of the community spouting taboo like that, for this was actually one of the safer sides of the town.

"Huh..." He hummed with a tone laced with interest. He lingered his gaze over you, taking in some of your features. He trailed his visage up to your face, which consisted of soft features and eyes that shone brightly even in the dark. He wondered to himself how on Earth anyone here could be able to possess such beauty. That suddenly reminded him of the bus ride. "Hey, weren't we on the bus together?"

So he did notice.

"Yep, I saw you at the bus stop." You nodded.

He grinned. "Right! I thought you were stalking me."

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head at him with denial. "No way! Why would I stalk you?" You exasperated.

He shrugged. "Well, I guess I am pretty hot," He had a point there, but that was not a reason to commit such a felony. More like it was because he looked like he'd have a full wallet. You hummed, staring back at his eyes. Jesus, he really did have a strong resemblance with Allen. They even had a similar facial structure, except his was more of a babyface compared to Allen's. That was possibly why he was so attractive.

"No, I'd say narcissistic." You teased, earning a whine from him.

"Hey! I'm not!" He shot back.

The two of you were so immersed in the friendly conversation that the two of you hadn't realized that you were both subconsciously walking to the same house. It wasn't until you knocked on the door with your fist and Allen appeared that you even noticed. The door swung open to reveal a lazy-dressed boy, in nothing but knee-length tan shorts and a tight black crop top. Without sparing him a glance, you darted your round eyes over to the man standing beside you and he appeared just as shocked as you did.

Amazement flashed in your eyes and you brightened. "Wait! Why are you here?!" You exclaimed.

He widened his eyes and he laughed. "I'm visiting my cuz, what are you doing here?"

"Holy moly. I'm just here to return Allen's phone!" You replied, your heart fluttering in excitement. He was Allen's cousin? You thanked God that you met him! "Wow, I should've known! So you were the rich boy he was talking about!"

The auburn haired boy behind the fly screen felt his breath hitch. "... What the fuck?"

What were you doing with him?

He flashed you his pearly whites and nodded. "That's right! I'm Allen's cousin! The name's Alfred by the way." He held out a hand for you to shake and you took it gladly. "I'm (F/N), it's nice to finally know your name!" You laughed. "I'm a friend of Allen's,"

"Alright, enough yapping the two of you." A gruff voice cut in, followed by the ear-piercing creak of the fly screen. He loved your visits, but he despised Alfred's. The fact that you were here with him created a concoction of something far worse. "Hurry up and get inside, dollface." He was annoyed, and you could tell by the tone of voice. How could his luck go any more sour? The sight of you being so friendly with the boy he hated made him want to punch a wall. By the looks of it, Alfred had taken a large liking to you when he offered a hand for you to shake.

He almost never did to anyone he met in this neighborhood from his yearly visits.

Looming his tall frame over yours, he placed two hands on your shoulders from behind and hardened his stare at the blonde.

His protective tendencies for you kicked in.

"I see that you've met (F/N)," He then draped another arm around you this time.

Alfred's pupils shrunk and his lips twitched up into a smile. It was one of the strangest smiles you've ever seen, and it wasn't just radiating happiness that it was supposed to do. It radiated a mix of emotions, and joy was not one of them. "Yeah, your friend's pretty cool." He replied. "How come I wasn't introduced earlier?"

You lit up.

"Haha, I asked Allen the same question as well!" You chimed, feeling arms wrap around your neck and shoulders.

"You guys never asked." He grumbled.

"You know, Allen kept telling me how much of an A-hole you were, but apparently not!" You teased, unbeknownst to the tension that was starting to thicken the air again. The boy behind you narrowed his blood red irises dangerously and glared over at Alfred. It belonged to that of a wolf, and it spat nothing but what-are-you-doing-back-the-fuck-off.

Allen felt anger boil inside of him and he tightened his strong arms around you. What the hell did Alfred do? How the hell did the two of you meet? And most importantly, why did you not see him as what he truly was?

Alfred chuckled dryly. "Yeah, that's what he always says. I'm not that much of a jerk, am I?"

He flickered his gunmetal blue eyes over to Allen. It was swirling with nothing but mischief and triumph.

"You're really nice, so no. I don't know what he's talking about!" You continued, turning over to Allen behind you and handing him his phone. He took it with a lazy grin and slid it in his pant pocket. "Here's your phone, you idiot. You need to stop forgetting it, honestly."

"Thanks, babydoll," He cooed, darting his crimson red irises back to the visitor with a smirk. "I don't use it too much so I'm not bothered to take it with me."

"And you keep saying that I'm the airhead?" You pressed firmly. "You're gonna lose it someday."

"Not when you're around to look after it," He winked, directing this one straight at his cousin. He swore he caught his hands clench into tight fists.

There were many things that day to be pissed about for each and every one of you. First things first, Allen's stupid tendencies to leave his shite around and leaving it for your care. A nasty surprise on the said boy's door front and the chummy relationship you shared with him that was able to get under Alfred's skin. This was going to be an interesting recount of a relative's visit gone wrong.

[whimsicalwhimsicott]

Human!Connor x Android!Hank AU

To the anon that sent me the reverse AU! I'll be writing more on this specific fic definitely.

*********

Connor first found the android loitering while he was on a case, dressed up in dirty sweatpants and a t shirt that looked too thin and too cold to be out in this weather. He looked down at the picture in his hand, laced between his thumb and palm. It looked as though this was the android he was looking for, although he was surprised to see an android in such a state. He was aware that there were many types of androids, but unaware just how many. This would be a learning experience.

When he approached, the android groaned as though he was the one to be inconvenienced. “Hello, my name is Connor, I’m the officer sent by the Detroit Police Department.” He held out his hand to shake the others, but it got slapped away. Confusion took his features, but he put his hand back at his side quietly.

“I don’t give a shit about who you are,” he snapped, and then turned to walk away. Connor decided he couldn’t let this happen and grabbed the man's wrist. The deviant turned around on him and pushed him back.

“My apologies, but you are the one who called us, correct?”

“Yeah, I called y’all, but I didn’t ask for someone to actually come out.”

“Unfortunately, the request and information you called about required a face-to-face interview. They sent me to do that. If I recall, you said you saw the murder that happened here recently? I would appreciate it a lot if you told me in person what you saw,” he smiled. The deviant grimaced.

“Why aren’t you…less…you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Cops hate androids, especially deviants.”

“Oh, I don’t mind them in particular, I think their cause was wonderful and historic.”

“What?”

“…How about this, you tell me what I want to know and I'll tell you what you want to know.”

“I don’t make deals,” he spat.

Connor just shrugged and turned away from the android, “Well, if you don’t want access to a crime scene, there’s no helping it…” he trailed off, starting to walk back down the sidewalk the way he had come from. He heard a disapproving noise, followed by one of thought behind him.

“My name is Hank.”

Connor stopped, turned to look at the deviant – Hank – and waited.

“My name is Hank, and I want to see the crime scene. I knew the guy, so I want to help.” It was Hank's turn to keep Connor there, but the human couldn’t say that it didn’t please him. He had expected his ruse to not work considering how hostile Hank had been at first, but maybe there was something else going on entirely. He also thought it odd that Hank's definition of friendship consisted of ‘I knew the guy.’ Nonetheless, Connor smiled and led Hank across the street and up the four floors. The scene was blocked off by tape with no officers present. Other than Connor, that is.

“Wow, he really lived in a shithole,” Hank murmured, stepping over trash and piles of clothes. Connor walked around carefully, noting each piece of evidence – just in case Hank got a little grabby – Connor honestly wouldn’t put it past him as he picked up a magazine from the floor. “I’ll be honest I didn’t think a kid would be part of this investigation.”

“I’m not a kid, and I’m the one they designated all android cases to so…” he murmured, trailing off and hoping that Hank got the point.

“Well, no offense, but anyone who looks younger than me is a kid.”

“Is that in your programming?” Connor asked, genuinely curious.

Hank went to answer, stuttered on his words, and then shut his mouth. The air became tense with the aftermath of a wrong question and Connor noticed it. He was first to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Hank coughed. He was trying to create noise to drown out how awkward these next few words would be. “Its not part of my programming, that’s something I picked up on my own.”

“Can I ask another personal question, Hank?”

“What, you’re asking me? I thought you were going to be rude this whole time, shoot.”

“What was you model designed to do before you became deviant?”

“Oh, when you say personal, you mean it. Uh, oof…”

“You don’t have to answer the question,” Connor said trying to be polite about it, “How did you know the victim?”

“He was a friend that found me a place to stay, gave me a few things to help me survive.”

“He didn’t let you stay with him?” Connor inquired.

“It was…well, right after the revolution. Humans were angry, androids were being attacked everywhere. He didn’t want attention drawn to himself and I didn’t want to draw attention to him either. Obviously it didn’t work.”

“Obviously.”

Hank knelt down to examine the blue blood splattered on the ground. “Poor bastard.”

Connor turned away to let Hank have a moment, pulling out his phone as it buzzed away in his pocket. A message from Fowler asking what he’d learned. It really hadn’t been much, so Connor texted him back as much. Looking out the cracked window, Connor determined that any more investigating beyond this point would be difficult. With the lack of electricity in the apartment, he decided it was time to wrap up. “Its getting dark, we can continue the investigation tomorrow,” he announced. Hank looked up from the floor and sighed, starting to get up and leave.

“You have a place to stay? It’s supposed to be well below freezing tonight, and I hear that while androids can’t feel cold it’s not beneficial for them to be out in this weather.”

“Well, when he kicked the bucket, all bets were off with my host. So I figured I’d find an abandoned car or something to sleep in.”

Connor seemed taken aback, and Hank rose one artificial eyebrow. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Do you want to stay with me?”

It was Hank’s turn to swivel around and stare at Connor wide-eyed. “What?”

“I have an extra bedroom I’m not using, you can use it for the night. Besides it’s beneficial if we stay together. After all, you’re witness to the crime right?”

“I wouldn’t say witness…”

“You saw something, and that’s worth something. Please, I would feel bad if you froze out there.” Hank noted the way Connor smiled, and he wasn’t sure if it was sincere. He never got sincere smiles – mostly the ‘I’m going to kick the shit out of you’ smile – and was immediately wary of it. He stepped out of the apartment as Connor locked it up tight, re-tying the tape.

“You some kind of android lover or some shit?”

“I was empathetic to your cause, even going as far as to house some before the government granted your freedom.”

“What? You helped deviants?”

“Of course, they needed help and police officers are supposed to help.”

“Ah ah,” he clicked at Connor, “There’s more to it than that. You like androids.”

He hadn’t expected to get the kid to blush just from that, but he supposed he had uncovered a huge secret or something that hadn’t been told before. “Wait…you haven’t told anybody at your job have you?”

“It was illegal...I couldn’t exactly do that, I would have been arrested on the spot.”

“Shiiit, maybe I did misjudged you, kid. But yeah, a place to stay would be nice.”

“Not a kid,” Connor murmured hastily as they made their way down the stairs, “But I don’t live too far.”

-

As it turned out, Connor did live really REALLY far away from the crime scene, and even his job, and he walked that distance almost every fucking day. If Hank hadn’t been an android, he was positive this walk would have killed him, yet the kid hadn’t even broken a sweat. “I'm used to it,” he had said when Hank asked. Nonchalantly brushing it off as though it really wasn’t a big deal. Hank suggested buying a car, to which Connor laughed. “In this economy? I can’t even drop a quarter without feeling it,” he joked.

Eventually, they reached Connor’s apartment complex (a skyscraper, Hank swore) and took the elevator up to the 7th floor. It wasn’t that far, he figured Connor might have a penthouse view or some shit, but when they entered it seemed fairly normal. “The department provided me with the funds to rent this place, and I've been paying for it since with my paycheck.”

“I mean, it’s nice, I guess. I figured it would be more…decorated, but you don’t look like a decorating kind of guy.”

“I don’t have a lot of…” Connor started, but decided against admitting the obvious as he shut and locked the door. “Make yourself at home,” he said cheerfully, showing Hank the guest bedroom. Once he was sure that Hank was settled, he moved to the kitchen to start his dinner. He glanced at the calendar on the fridge, detailing what he would have each day of the week, before opening the fridge and pulling out lean hamburger meat and vegetables. As he prepped his food, he heard Hank rummaging around in the guest room. He tried to think nothing of it, surely he wouldn’t steal from Connor after such hospitality was extended.

He still worried, but didn’t investigate. He needed to trust Hank if Hank was going to trust him. The next thing he knew, his dinner was in the oven and he turned to see the android just standing there half naked. He jumped in surprise, eyes wide. “Uh, yes?”

“I almost forgot to ask if I could use your shower before I used it.”

“Of course you can,” Connor coughed, unable to keep his eyes from roaming. Hank was pretty damaged, as far as he could tell, and rather dirty. Several open wounds and burns distracted Connor from hearing the next words, and instead left him once again stumbling over his words. He didn’t want to ask…

“Humans are shitty,” Hank answered for him, “Get a good look, this is what you’re trying to turn around, right?”

“I certainly am,” Connor affirmed. If he had ever been unsure about it, he wasn’t now. Androids, deviants…people didn’t deserve this. “Is there anything I can do about that? I may not be rich but I could probably afford to get those fixed up.”

“Nah, it’s not really damaging to me, just a cosmetic issue really,” he tried to reassure Connor as he traced a finger over one of the open cuts. “Anyways thanks for letting me crash here, really.” And he disappeared back into the hall. It wasn’t long before Connor heard the water running. He stood there, stunned, feeling stiff as he finished baking his dinner, eating it in silence as the last of the light outside died down.

This was the right thing to do.

[neverwatchedonepiece]

496: “To the Sea Someday! the Pledge of the Three Brats!”

... I’m listening.

Another great episode. I think the post-arc fatigue is wearing off.

In another case of Art Imitates Life, we have a tiny Sabo who loathes the privileged society of nobles within which he was raised. Must say that one of my favourite One Piece moments is when Luffy caved in Saint Charloss’ face, so I am all for Oda revisiting this theme.

I also liked the way Sabo’s social status was revealed in small, hinting increments. I didn’t realise what was going on until Sabo himself spelled it out.

The Dine and Dash

This was the first time I realised something was up with Sabo, though I couldn’t put my finger on what it was yet.

After the nice intro showing Luffy’s first attempts at his gomu gomu no pistol attack (awww...), world building began in earnest. If you travel north of Grey Terminal, you will hit a wall. Literally. There is a wall. This wall encloses the Goa Kingdom - a place with a strict immigration policy.

Have you ever wondered why Grey Terminal exists? It’s because the residents inside the wall dump their trash outside the entrance, leaving the cast-offs of society to fight over cast-off scraps. Lovely. 

The poor people of Grey Terminal are sometimes allowed inside to sell recycled items. This exception allowed Ace, Sabo and Luffy managed to sneak in.

Just beyond the gate, is Edge Town, where all the edgy types hang out. Ace, Sabo and Luffy easily dealt with a bunch of muggers. Those muggers knew their names, so our three favourite prospective pirates have obviously won a bit of local notoriety here. I can just picture the headlines: AREA KIDS OUT OF CONTROL. AREA KIDS CAUSE CROCODILE SHORTAGE. AREA KIDS RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL SOCIAL ILLS.

In the middle of town, there’s another wall. You’d need one to keep out all the Edge. This part of the kingdom is called High Town. There is not a scrap of garbage on the streets here. Apparently, Goa Kingdom is the most beautiful in East Blue. Now we know why. I’m guessing the photographers aren’t taken round Grey Terminal.

And High Town is where the nobles live.

I thought, good, good. Now things are interesting. Is Luffy going to punch out another entitled parasite and form the habit of a lifetime?

The kids sold the crocodile skin and decided to go for ramen. Sabo knew a place. It was a really fancy place. Disguised, they walked in. Sabo demanded a private dining room and flashed a gold locket/pocket watch engraved with a floral emblem. This had the staff fawning all over them. Ace said, “Wow, that thing sure comes in handy!” Sabo was uneasy, “Haha, yeah, I found it on the street one day.”

Being mischievous imps, they had about two hundred bowls of ramen between them, then dined and dashed by jumping out through a fourth floor window. xD

This is when I started thinking: wait... something is up here. 

If Sabo is hard-up, how does this kid know about private dining rooms? How did he know about that fancy restaurant. Why was he so sketchy about finding the locket? He robs people all the time. Why not proudly say you robbed a rich noble? 

But no. I justified it away as nothing. Sabo might have spied and seen nobles demand private rooms. He’d never tried ramen before. Maybe he had a pang of conscience about stealing the locket and said he found it instead.

Then, a random in the street seemed to recognise Sabo. I did not know who he was at the time, so I shall call him Sweaty Chins (due to his multiple chins and excessive perspiration).

“You’re alive!” Sweaty Chins exclaimed. “Let’s go home.”

“Um... that guy’s calling you,” Ace said.

Sabo seemed shaken, then said, “He confused me for someone else.”

They ran for it. One last shot of Sweaty Chins before the scene concluded was ambiguous. I wasn’t sure if he was happy or not to see Sabo.

[Comrade Sabo]

As Ace is not dumb, he suspected something was amiss. Sabo didn’t want to tell, but Ace literally wrung the secret out of him.

“I’m the son of a noble,” Sabo said miserably.

“And?” Luffy and Ace chorused. (I laughed.)

Sabo explained both his parents were alive. He wasn’t an orphan and never grew up in Grey Terminal. Sweaty Chins was his father. He apologised for lying to Ace and Luffy. 

Luffy being Luffy, wanted to forgive him immediately. Ace being Ace was more cautious. “You should wait to hear the motive before you forgive.”

He wanted to know why Sabo was living out on the edge with them if he was from a noble family.

Sabo told his tale.

The flashback opened with a sinister shot of looming, overbearing, lecturing parents. “You need to acquire intelligence and knowledge you need to know as  a noble and become a man that can marry a woman from the royal family,” Mr Sweaty Chins said. “Then we’ll live in security and I’m sure that you will live happily,” Mrs Chins chipped in.

“Are you sure?” Sabo said, unconvinced.

“YEAH, OF COURSE!”

Later, Sweaty Chins received some bad news. An entire cargo ship was lost along with the goods he had invested in. He didn’t give a damn about the crew. The money was the main thing. Oh great, I thought. Sweaty Chins is another callous, noble piece of excrement.

Believe it or not, my opinion sunk even lower.

Little Sabo turned up at his study with a drawing he’d done of his dad. Sweaty Chins took out his anger on Sabo, ripped the drawing in half and said, “I’m exhausted from work. If you have time to draw, you should be studying.”

And little Sabo’s heart just shattered into a million pieces.

Then the popular theory about posh schools breeding psychos also cropped up (thank you, Oda!) As little Sabo walked to his expensive school, a bowl-cut fucknugget approached him. “I’m from the royal family,” he brayed. “I’m related to the king. Give me a piggyback to my house.”

Since Sabo has a backbone and pride, he was like, “Um... no,” and walked on. This did not go down well.

“Are you gonna ignore my royal order?”

And then the kid pulled a knife on him.

Yes. You heard right. This royal, parasitic sponge pulled a knife on Sabo (these nobles really will have to go. They are out of control).

And it gets worse. When Sabo beat up the kid in self-defence, *he* was punished for it! Mrs Chins rushed to the school. Not to aid her son. But to fawn over the poor, injured widdle royal. When Sabo tried to explain he almost got knifed, it earned him a ringing slap across the face.

And in that instant you see the hatred born in Sabo right there.

Fuck that noise, he thought. I am out of here.

And he went to party with the people of Grey Terminal, who had time for him and who told him cool stories of all the places they’d been to out on the open sea.

When his flashback ended, Sabo announced he would go out to sea one day no matter what and write a book about it.

Ace said: “I’m gonna become a pirate and defeat others and become infamous. It doesn’t matter if all the people in the world reject and despise me. I’ll become a great pirate and show them what I can do! I won’t run from anyone or lose to anyone. My name will be known all over!”

If they had shown this just before Ace died, it would have been tears time. ;_;

Sabo realised they had a problem. All of them wanted to be a captain. Ace got round this by stealing some sake from Dadan, and That Scene took place.

“Maybe we’ll set out independently,” he said. “When we become pirates, we might not be on the same ship. But our brotherhood will always be there. So from now on, we’re brothers!”

God, I hope Sabo isn’t dead. Maybe that’s why he fought so hard to save Ace, his last remaining brother.

Underage drinking!

[theunnamedlizardrogue]

Books! - Chap 1

Backstory: So, I got really attached to a D&D character I made about a year ago, and the first day of January, the DM abandoned ship for disclosed reasons. To account for this. I decided to take up writing, to itch all that missing character development

Chapter 1: Corn starch A bouncer stands at his post, the cordial party held by the noble underway. The white brick accentuates the wealth here and the aristocrats walking about would make the colour brown stick out like a saw thumb. The door leading into the party is ornate and gigantic, approximately the size of 2 men and more gold than a bank. Money couldn’t be burnt in more useless ways than literally burning it. The lizard wanders up, looking his best to act casual; as much as one could be when a bipedal reptilian is in the middle of a group of humans and elves. He slyly slinks towards the bouncer and quietly whispers “Corn starch” The guard looks in confusion. The lizard realises this isn’t the contact, but an actual bouncer. He takes a step back to think to himself. Godsdamn it, Snakes fed him false info. Time to improvise. He distorts his voice and puts on a fake accent he’s never heard “My mistake. Friend tell me Corn starch secret access code to ball. I invited and thought ‘No, that not make sense.’ But he insist and I thought human custom.” The guard looks even more confused. While the guard’s processing the situation, the lizard notices the line behind him, the crowd are getting annoyed at the wait. This could work to his advantage. “I am Ackl-Snarr. Lizardfolk… ambassador? That is what human with brown hair say. Noble host give good negotiation and worldwide peace in exchange for warm rock and women” The poor sod finally speaks. “An ambassador? What ambassador wears a scarf and a hood?” “Scarf?! I have you know this efficient battle garb for enemies! Blood absorbed to not get on precious scales and sneaky like fox as enemy think normal clothing inappropriate for war. You offend me with human custom.” “Right… Sir. I’m sorry, but I require a letter of invitation”. “YOU DARE REFUSE ACKL-SNARR?”. Whilst the lizard might be drawing more and more attention to himself, it’s certainly for the right reasons. “No, I ne-“ “YOU WANT TELL NOBLE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR DESTROYAL OF HUMANS BY SCALY HANDS? I SPIT ON YOUR HATCHLINGS WHEN THEY PILE OF ASH” With a resigned sigh, the door is opened to the lizard. Looks like most people aren’t willing to be responsible for severance of diplomatic relations, even more so when the upper class are waiting, though Lizardfolk aren’t even a nation in this country.

The place is filled with more guests than he expected, and much more wine. The decorum is… elegant. To be expected, of course. The lizard takes a second to stare at the marble staircase, the marble statues, the marble tables, marble… There’s a lot of marble. Whilst his eyes wander, he looks at the other guests at this party. Shit. Masks. So many masks. This is a masquerade. Yes. Masquerade. Masks. Everyone… has masks. Yep. Alright. Perfect. Okay, let’s calm down. The lizard considers exiting the mansion and running, but he just talked his way through the bouncer earlier so it’d look embarrassing if “Ackle-Snarr” decided that he’d be intimidated by simple masks. However, minor phobias aside, does the lizard really need a mask? The noble in question, Alexander Covingtree, is supposedly getting ready for an event in three hours. There’s plenty of time to go up to his room and talk to him abo- “Have you heard? Alexander is going to start greeting the guest members!” two nobles chirped behind him. One of them, a woman wearing a crow mask responds “Oh how wonderful. He truly is a spectacular host!” The lizard is quietly muttering every known swearword to man, elf and dwarf. This is a test, he guesses. Either that or a practical joke. Knowing Snakes, it was probably both. The last few jobs had been rather simple, so Snakes might have just been trying to sharpen the lizard’s resolve. It’s a little touching that his father had that much faith in him, but it’s a bloody pain trying to do this.

The lizard realises he needs to focus on the task at hand, a mask. It needs to be long enough to account for his muzzle. Though it’d be effective enough just to grab a half-mask, the whole ‘being a lizard’ thing would be noticeable.

A man nearby is drinking a rather lot of wine, his mask is perfect. Designed after a fox, but the snout itself is long enough for it to be used by The lizard. The lizard hopes the mask doesn’t stink of alcohol. … And from the noises the man’s making, let’s make sure it doesn’t stink of anything else as well. The lizard runs to the masked noble, feigning care for the poor soul who thought it best to drink six glasses of rosé. He lifts off the mask and pulls him away, to a Fern plant in one of the corridors. It lasts for a little too long. The guy passes out after he’s done releasing his stomach and the lizard tries to place him delicately on a chair. Mission completed, he dons the masks and shudders a little. He pulls up his hood, hiding the scaly back of his head. Leaving the corridor, a companion of the drunkard notices the mask and calls out to the lizard, “Hey! You there! That was my friend’s mask.” The lizard responds promptly. “Ah, I have forgotten my own this evening, and I thought it a personal challenge to acquire a mask at the party. After all, who doesn’t disagree to a little excitement every once in a while?” The man laughs, “Indeed, sometimes a little bit of debauchery can spice up our lives. Just give it back to him when you’re done, alright? You have no idea how much he paid for it, custom made, they say!” The lizard nods. “That sounds for a rousing tale! But I give my deepest apologies, I’m in a tinsy bit of a rush”. He’d have to satisfy his curiosity another time. He goes back to scanning the room, seeing if Covingtree has arrived yet.

Aha! The lizard spots Alexander walking down. Covingtree has straight brown hair, is clean shaven and looks rather young, approximately seven years older than the seventeen-year-old lizard. Best guess would be the Alex has inherited the money that he used for this mansion. It’s obvious that the place wasn’t designed in mind of someone in their forties, so what would be the reason that Alexander has his own mansion at such a young age? Parents are either extremely rich, or the Covingtree must have had a few deaths in their lineage. Someone bumps into the lizard and he’s brought back to reality yet again, he’s got to stop doing that. Alexander’s one for theatrics. He’s holding his mask as he’s walking down the stairs, just so he can put it on with a flourish. He takes a bow when he reaches the bottom, and the crowd let out a cheer in his health. The lizard is admittedly impressed.

Now how does one approach this? Alex wanders around, shaking hands. The lizard needs to get Alex alone by himself. An idea sparks, but it’s as risky as swallowing a dirty knife. Normally this would work with a Lord’s wife, not the Lord himself. He struts towards Alexander. The lizard seems confident, probably the mask, he guesses. Something about anonymity? He read it in a book once… Well, Twice. Alexander’s taken notice now. With a quick inhale, the lizard bows, similar to how Alex did earlier. He offers his hand out for a dance. Alex is taken aback, but he accepts.

Alex is obviously not used to being a follow, he instinctually looks down as soon as they start. As they dance together, there’s a small trip. It’s hard to tell who caused it, but the lizard’s footwork kept them upright and attempts to mask it through a spin. the crowd didn’t seem to notice. Perfect. A few minutes in, the lizard notices he’s trying to impress the audience with his dancing. It’s the mask. Probably.

The crowd let out another cheer, this is the lizard’s chance. He takes Alex by the hand and points up the stairs. Alex takes a second to look into the mask’s eyes and awkwardly nods. The lizard’s seen it before, Alex’s interested in the mystery of the man behind the mask. As they retreat upstairs, He swears he heard someone whistle.

In Alex’s master bedroom. The lizard, with a sigh of relief, takes off the mask. Alex seems a little surprised to find out the lizard’s identity, predictably. The lizard begins. “Okay, great. This was much more difficult than I thought it would be.” The lizard looks out the doorway “Were you on the guest list?” “No, I had faked my way in pretending to be an ambassador for Lizardfolk. Gave your bouncer outside a particularly tough time. More importantly, I’m here representing an individual named ‘Skirt of Snakes’, are you familiar with him?” There’s a quick pause. “Not particularly, sorry.” Alex takes the time to relax on his bed. “Ah, alright.” The lizard sighs to himself, Snakes misinformed him yet again. “We’re part of the rogues found here in this city. We’d like to request assistance with infiltrating the Slater residence.” “What would I gain from such a bargain? You seemed to do fine with entering the party.” “Yeees, but it’s going to be done in the dead of the night, looting everything that isn’t nailed down. We’d like to make this as easy as possible.” The lizard just realised he gave information to a man he hadn’t fully convinced. Fuck. “I could report you to the guards for what you’re telling me.” Fuuuuuuuck. “Come now, it’d be bad manners to imprison a dance partner.” The lizard lets out a smirk and continues. “If you help us out, we’d pin the blame on Samuel Hagan, stating that he bought off rogues to steal Mr Slater’s valuables. This would cause an uproar, discrediting his name. Meanwhile, you can snatch up his land.” Samuel had been known for being an… unsavoury sort. The lizard’s band of rogues have been trying to expose his corruption for months. “Tempting. I’ll consider this.” Alex seems deep in thought, it’s an opportunity few would refuse, after all. “Perfect, I’ll notify my crew and tell someone to meet you three days from now. We’ll leave a note outside your door for details.” As the lizard stands to leave the bedroom, donning his mask, Alex dons his earlier tone “Care to stay for wine?” “Maybe another time, you’ve got to be a good host after all.” The lizard winks and leaves.

He can’t believe any of that worked.

Chapter 2: https://theunnamedlizardrogue.tumblr.com/post/172107548441/chapter-2-feline-good

[loving-jack-kelly]

TALK TO ME ABOUT AUS FRIEND

LET’S GO I’ve had this one for a while and I talked to @lesmizteries about it yesterday while we talked about AUs we had but I’ve never posted it! so! 

So

If you know me, follow me, have scrolled through my blog for ten seconds you know

I

love

Spot Conlon

so much

but I also enjoy giving him (progressively more) tragic backstories in every au involving him

For example, the Kayla AU, which is my go to background/modern setting for any Spot related thing

i can’t find it to link it but it was sad anyway

this one is no exception to the “let’s hurt spot to see how it affects his character” rule i seem to have adopted

so let’s go!

read more ‘cause I already know this is gonna be long

Spot!

as in most of my aus, he’s a smart guy

very smart in this case, like super genius kinda smart

but

he grew up pretty much homeless

like technically there was an apartment he could go to? but he’d rather sleep in a shelter or if it was warm outside because his dad hated him and he hated his dad

his mom was a woman who met his dad because he was a drug dealer, but she was on probation when she got pregnant and couldn’t tell anyone who’s the baby was because she wasn’t supposed to be seeing him

and then handed Spot off to his dad and said “good luck he’s yours now”

so Spot grew up in Chicago, pretty much homeless

the only useful things his dad taught him were how to read, how to beg, how to pick pockets, and how to steal

the only good person who cared about spot was Romeo, his half brother, but we’ll get into that later

anyway

when Spot was around twelve his dad packed up and moved them to new york, where it was pretty much same deal, different streets, different people

but he’s eventually like, no, i’m going to school, i’m making myself better than what i am

so he goes to school these years don’t matter as much to the story

graduates hs early

graduates college early

gets several degrees

now on with the story!

by the time he’s twenty, he’s already a semi-public figure, cause he’s a twenty-year-old genius with a bunch of degrees and he’s like Dr. Conlon

and he and one of his friends from college, Davey, have a small lab together and then everthing kinda explodes because they patent a medical machine that’s revolutionary

and they get really rich, really fast, and really public, really fast

and Spot gets really good at circumlocuting around questions about his childhood so he doesn’t have to talk about it

but every time he does, he remembers

he remembers being a tiny, hungry kid, sitting on a corner in chicago watching the rich people go past. the people with obviously fat wallets in their front pockets, in fancy suits with huge watches on their wrists, and those people were the ones who tossed him a quarter and acted like it was a hundred dollars, like a gumball would fill his stomach

and then the people a step up from him, the blue collar workers, the people who were wearing fast food uniforms, they were the ones who pulled out a nearly empty wallet and handed him five, ten, twenty dollars if they could and pointed him towards the nearest McDonald’s

and that didn’t seem right, not when he was a kid and not once he had money and could afford to help

it seemed like the people with money should be helping the most, right? they’re able to, why shouldn’t they? and yet, they don’t

and every time he thinks about it, he gets mad.

especially at the parties. god, the parties, where the rich old men are hailed as gods among men, like they do so much to help while standing in their huge mansions in front of their classical art and museum worthy statues and vases

and one night he’s at a party at the home of media giant Joseph Pulitzer, forced to watch him stand in front of a newly acquired Monet painting talking about how much it cost and everything just reaches a boiling point which leads to him planning his first heist since he was like, fourteen and raiding the school for computer stuff and food

and he grabs the painting

but then he’s like, “shit. what the fuck do i do with a huge ass monet. i don’t know any fences, i haven’t had to fence anything since i was a kid, what the fuck do i do now?” so he ends up just literally leaving the painting in a shelter and hoping for the best

and what happened was Pulitzer got the painting back unharmed but the shelter also got attention and thus funds, but that put suspicion on the shelter, which is never what Spot wanted

so he went to Chicago to meet!

Romeo!

his half brother!

runs a ring of pick pockets and petty thieves, is an all around pretty neat guy, protects the kids who work for him with his life

also knows e v e r y o n e  worth knowing in the criminal world 

so he’s like “yeah i know some good fences. Kat and Saz are the best, girlfriends, loyal to those loyal to them, can sell anything. Kat works out of New York, Saz from Paris”

doesn’t quite mention Kat is Pulitzer’s daughter? Spot finds out when he goes to meet her and can’t contain his “Katherine?!”

which leads to Katherine laughing like crazy bc

a) her father had tried to set her up with Spot

b) the tiny little super genius had stolen her father’s painting completely successfully but couldn’t figure out how to sell it

also eventually Romeo kind of accidently reveals that Davey and Saz are twins, which leads to Dave being brought in on it for the second heist

the second heist is a bust, an old, valuable bust, and several smaller things from other media giant, Hearst’s, mansion. the smaller things were fenced off and the money used to pay Kat, Saz, and Dave and to give away, and the bust was left the same way the monet was

this kept going for a while, Spot recruits Crutchie after catching his IT guy breaking into his safe and learning that he was really, really good with tech and all he wanted was enough money for he and his husband to adopt

which also led to Jack being recruited as an art forger

eventually, Race hears about them and tries so hard to contact them to help that they let him, and he’s also a thief, so Race and Spot do the actual breaking in while the others take care of the details

and somewhere along the way, they got the idea to leave a calling card, so the people trying to do what they were doing couldn’t claim they were the real thieves behind the good they were doing

and Jack noted the similarity to them and robin hood, so they left a super specific arrow behind at every scene, signed “the Merry Men”

the normal people at least kind of accept what’s going on, because most people can see that some good it being done

the rich people obviously don’t

to stay secretive, Spot even steals from himself a few times, no more or less than the other rich people

now not in every version of this au? but for your consideration:

Spot gets caught somehow

he refuses to give up anyone else and even tells Dave to essentially disown him so Dave is in charge of their labs and everything so it can keep functioning

but his trial becomes legendary because he does admit to every crime committed by the Merry Men, but he shows no remorse at all

and at first nobody comments on it, but finally somebody does, and asks him, “Do you feel bad for what you did?”

and his response is never forgotten. he leans forward, makes direct eye contact, and says quietly

“Why should I feel bad, when they continue to live rich, happy lives, minus a painting? While people go hungry on the streets, while kids freeze and starve, and they have the money to help, and they don’t? Why should I feel bad when stealing a few paintings that almost all got returned unharmed fed hundreds of people? Clothed hundreds of people? I called myself the Merry Men for a reason. Steal from the rich, give to the poor, what happened to Robin Hood being the hero? I was Robin Hood, I helped people with my machines, with my money, with my means, and by taking from those who could afford it. No, I don’t feel bad, and no, I never will. Not when I know what hunger and cold feel like, and not when I know that I helped people.”

and after that he stops talking in his trial

[accio-ambition]

starting off on the wrong foot

Merry belated Christmas and happy belated New Year, @reanncee! I was your terribly late Santa! I really am sorry about the tardiness. The holidays got to me in real life and I’m just now beginning to recover and get back to normal.

When we first started talking, you said that you wanted to see Regina and the Flash team up and save Storybrooke. I’m not all too familiar with the Flash - an additional dark mark on me - but after I saw a couple gifsets from Arrow about Thea and Roy, I was inspired. I hope you like your present and, again, I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING SUCH A BAD SANTA.

“I don’t think Lena has her head on straight. You? A manager?”

Regina scoffs and savors the last sip of her coffee before chucking it in a trash bin. That time allows her to collect herself and calmly respond to her friend. “Thanks for having so much faith in me, Emma.”

Her friend rolls her eyes and chuckles. “C’mon, Regina, be real.”

“I am being real,” Regina whines, all but stomping her foot on the city sidewalk.

Emma rolls her eyes again, solidifying the weird friendship between the two of them.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’ll be a good manager,” Emma tells her. “I just didn’t see that coming. I thought you didn’t like the club.”

Shrugging, Regina adjusts the straps of her trusty bag over her shoulder. “I never said I didn’t like it,” she qualifies. “I just said I didn’t like how Lena was running it.”

“So she handed you the reins because she got angry.”

Regina nods. “Pretty much.”

Their relationship is complicated, to say the least: Emma and her half-sister Zelena were frenemies in school, always paired together for school projects and such because they ‘had common abilities.’ How those common abilities translated into Emma becoming a cop and Lena becoming a club owner, no one will ever know.

But with the amount of times Emma came over to the Mills Mansion during school, she and Regina bonded as well and to this day, grab coffee on the off chance that they’re both (a) awake and (b) coherent enough to hold a conversation.

“Well, you’ll have to tell me when you make your first night is,” Emma says, heading across the street. “I want to be there to make your life hell.”

Laughing, Regina responds, “Because you don’t already. Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye out for delinquents like yourself? You know, being an officer of the law?”

Emma flips her hair over her shoulder, saying, “Gotta let loose every once in a while, right?”

Regina laughs even harder, coming to a halt on the edge of the sidewalk as she bends in half with her mirth. Of all the people she’s ever met, Emma Swan is the only person who wouldn’t let her occupational oath keep her from having a good time.

But Regina’s attitude changes in a second when her bag is torn from her shoulder. Not only does it probably bruise her arm, but that’s her bag. The bag that Daniel gave her so long ago, the last physical remnant of their relationship ever existing.

The punk who grabbed the bag is streaking down the alley in a green hoodie, Emma fast on his tail. A small perk to having a friend who’s used to chasing criminals. It’s a huge help because, by the time Regina catches up in her tasteful-not-meant-for-running-but-for-putting-the-fear-of-God-into-people heels, Emma’s got the thief cornered against a dead end chain link fence.

“Give her the purse, ass,” Emma threatens as Regina catches her breath, “and maybe I won’t arrest you.”

The shithead just stares at them for a moment before catching Regina’s eye. He’s older than she thought at first. A man closer to her age than a teenager look for adventure. And his eyes. They’re blue. Not exactly piercing or anything, but blue enough to mentally mention. Softer than she expected, with a story novels long behind them.

The corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk and she opens her mouth to say something – what, she isn’t quite sure, but there’s something about this guy that makes her want to say something – but he bounds off the wall and over the fence like he’s a monkey or a karate kid.

“What the fuck?” she mutters beneath her breath.

The man lands soundly on the other side of the wall after landing a twist a pro-skateboarder would be proud of. Barely glancing back at Regina, he runs off, her purse in hand, as Emma ties in vain to run through the fence after him.

“Dammit,” Emma growls, gripping through the links and shaking. Turning back to Regina, she asks, “Was there anything super important in there?”

Regina shakes her head. “I mean, my wallet and my ID and stuff, but nothing that can’t be replaced.”

“But that bag. It was…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. They both know how it ends and how important it is to Regina. Resignedly, Emma wraps her arm over her friend’s shoulder, ushering her back to the main road. “Come on, I’ll help you file a report,” she says. “I’ll keep my eye out for the asshole when I go on patrol.”

Regina thinks that she nods or gives some sort of verbal agreement, but she’s still stuck on the thief’s upturned smirk and intense eyes. There’s something off about them. Something that screams that he stole her purse from necessity and not desire.

0000

Emma calls her a couple days later, her phone ringing while she’s standing in line at Starbucks.

“We got him,” her friend says by way of greeting.

“What?” Regina asks, trying to balance her cup of coffee, pay the barista, and maneuver her cell between her ear and her shoulder. “What are you talking about, got him?”

“The shit who stole your purse the other day,” Emma explains. On the other side of the line, Regina can hear flipping and shuffling of papers. “One of the deputies brought him in for another case of petty theft. The guy’s called Robin Locksley.”

She nearly drops her latte and her phone in surprise. “Like Robin Hood?” she clarifies.

“Exactly. And he lives up to that name. Steals from the banks, street stores, and it all somehow ends up in the Glades.” Emma goes silent for a second, then sighs. “Even if it’s all illegal, it’s still impressive how much support he singlehandedly brings to the people in the Glades.”

Regina hums. She’s a little distracted, between the people she’s convinced area trying to knock her off her feet on her way to the club and this intriguing conversation. If she doesn’t show up to work before Zelena, her sister will rip her a new one for ‘not being responsible’ even though she’s the one Mother decided to neglect until it was most convenient for her, but that’s Mother’s way.

“So he takes the things he steals and sells them to people out there?” Regina asks offhandedly.

“No, he sells them to the people around Park and Bauer Avenues for higher prices and then takes the money to the Glades. Daycares and the shelter.” She’ll admit, it all sounds very noble. Truly living up the character’s name he bears. Maybe that’s what causes the layers Regina spotted in his glance.

Bu then Emma’s voice pulls her from her own reveries when she says, “He’s still got your purse.”

“What?”

“The purse,” Emma repeats. “He hasn’t sold it yet, or at least that’s what he said.”

All Regina can say is nothing. She’s actually speechless, coming to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. She really shouldn’t care – it is only a purse, after all, she’s got a million of them – but it’s a bit more special because it’s the first Christmas present Daniel gave her. It’s her favorite because of the sentiment that accompanies it: Daniel saved up for a whole year to buy her the gift, skimping out dinners and treats for himself just to earn the heart that was already his. She’s taken better care of that purse than she has some of her own friends, sometimes.

“Regina?” Emma asks. “Are you still there?”

Nodding, Regina begins walking again. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

Regina bites at her bottom lip while she deliberates, then takes a sip of her drink in hopes that caffeine might inspire her.

“Okay, this is what I’ve got planned. As a cop, tell me how wrong this is going to go.”

0000

The address comes from Emma, after some pleading and promising that she’s not going to commit murder or anything else illegal. Honestly, after long hours of thinking, all she wants is the purse back. She doesn’t even particularly care if everything inside of its gone – the replacements are already in the mail on their way to her doorstep.

No, Regina ventures to a rundown, shabby-looking duplex on the way to work after a couple days of preparation because she needs to talk with this guy. She doesn’t know him, but if the way Emma spoke about him is any indication, there’s a story behind his theft.

She knocks on the door hesitantly, mentally going through her prepared speech for when Mr. Locksley opens up the door. “Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but – no, don’t close the door, I’m just here to talk” and the like.

Nobody answers the first time, and then Regina thinks logically about it – it’s about 11 in the morning. In theory, no one should be home. This Locksley fellow was probably at work on the streets, stealing from the rich and bringing it back for the poor.

But she’s surprised when the door opens and she has to look down to meet the person holding it open.

“Hi.” His voice is squeaky, but oddly happy. “Who are you?”

After stumbling over the weight of her tongue, Regina shakes her head and smiles best she can. “I’m Regina,” she says. “What’s your name?”

“Roland,” the little boy responds. He can’t be more than four or five. Obviously, he’s too young to be in the local school system, because those students haven’t been released for the day yet. But maybe daycare or preschool. She can imagine his bouncy little voice and equally bouncy curls atop his head making him a lot of friends in those places.

It’s then Regina hears the heavy thumps of adult male footsteps and the thief with the smirk and the intense eyes appears behind the boy.

“Roland, what have I told you about opening the door without my permission?” he asks.

The boy shrugs. “Don’t do it.”

“Exactly, my boy.” His hand falls to the boy’s hair and ruffles it, gently pushing him away from the door. “Now run off.” Roland runs into the other room and Robin looks up. His face pales when he realizes exactly who Regina is.

“Please don’t close the door on me,” she say quickly, watching as he reaches for the door. “Look, I’m not here to cause any more trouble for either of us.”

Robin chuckles heartlessly. It’s cold and, at least in her limited opinion of him, not suitable. “That’s what they all say.”

“I mean it,” she implores. Taking a deep breath, she skips to the part in her prepared speech that would get to the point. “I’m Regina Mills. My friend told me you still had that bag you took from me. I was hoping I could have it back.” Robin tilts his head to the side in contemplation and confusion. “It’s kind of important to me,” she explains. “You can keep whatever’s it in, I just want the bag.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, merely looks her up and down. It’s the first time since…well, since before Daniel died that a man’s gaze doesn’t make her skin crawl. It’s not lewd or disgustingly sexual. It looks like Mr. Locksley is trying to figure her out just as she’s trying to do the same.

“May I ask why?” he finally asks.

She hesitates, but ultimately decides to answer truthfully. “My ex-fiancé gave it to me the first Christmas we were together.”

“Ex?”

She nods. “He died a couple years ago.” His eyes widen and Regina shrugs. “Boating accident.”

“Oh,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.” Though she isn’t completely recovered – and, as she reasons with her mother, never expects to be fully done grieving Daniel – Regina waves away his remorse. A hand still on the door, he gesture further into the house behind him. “I do still have it, though I don’t promise the contents are still there.”

“That’s okay,” she says. “I’ve already called and ordered all the replacements. I just want the purse.”

Robin nods. “Alright. Please, come in.”

As he leaves and disappears into the darkness of the house, Regina steps in and closes the door behind her. She can see through the spots of the bookshelf to her left to the living room, where some cartoon entertains the little boy. He’s entranced by it, the lights reflecting back on his face. For a moment, he glances up at her through the spaces and gives her this shy, silly grin that Regina can’t help but return.

Footsteps have her looking forward once more. Robin returns with her purse, a little thinner and worse for wear, but still in pretty much the same condition as when she last had it.

“Like I said, most of the things inside of it are already gone,” he tells her again, “but I think it’s in good enough condition for you.”

When he offers it back to her, Regina takes it in her hands and simply holds it for a second, relishing in the feelings of the little piece of her – the little piece of Daniel she’d lost a couple days ago – coming home.

Before saying thank you, she just has to know why. “Is that why you did it?” Regina asks.

“What?”

She jerks her head toward the noise coming from the other room, of little cartoon characters dancing about on the screen in front of his son. “My purse,” she explains. “Did you do it for him or are you just really intent on living up to your namesake?”

“Pardon?” he asks with a small chuckle.

“C’mon. Robin Locksley?” At his vacant expression, Regina herself chuckles. “You know, Robin Hood? Stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor.”

A smile grows over his lips. “I’m aware, I just wanted to see you struggle through the explanation.”

Sighing, she snarls, “Mr. Locksley-”

“Yes,” he interrupts her. In a quieter voice, he continues, “The only food we had to eat was peanut butter and I wasn’t going to let my boy starve.”

“Do you not have a job to go to?”

“Of course I do, but it doesn’t make enough to pay and it’s the night shift, so Roland ends up spending more nights with the neighbor than with me.” Sighing in frustration, Robin runs a hand through his hand, making it haphazardly fall in every which-way direction. “It’s a catch-22 of the biggest proportions.”

“I can get you a job.” The words are out of her mouth before her filter has a chance to register what she’s already said.

Flabbergasted, Robin stares at her. “Haven’t you heard me, I’ve already got one.”

“You can bring Roland. Even when you’re at your other job,” she says swiftly. And now that she’s actually thinking this through, it makes sense. “The new club down the street, Verdant? My sister’s the owner. I manage. I’m heading there after this.” She’s thinking on her feet, but it could actually work. “You can work the early shifts at the club and I’ll watch Roland in my office. The place doesn’t close until three, so I can watch him until you finish your other shift. There’s a TV and I’m always in there crunching numbers.”

Even as she’s shaking her head, Regina doesn’t know whether this is a very good idea or a very bad one. She looks up and meets Robin’s eyes, a small smile on her face. “We can figure it out.”

But he’s not giving her the same sort of response. Instead of seeming excited, he’s frowning. “While I’m honored, I don’t need your type of charity,” he growls.

“My type of charity?”

“Yes,” he says strongly. “Adopting a poor fellow and his son so you can waltz us around and tell all your rich friends you’re a saint. I’m not subjecting myself to that, let alone him.”

Regina’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “I’m trying to help,” she says simply. Digging through her purse, she manages to pull out an old business card with Verdant’s address on it. She hands it to Robin as quickly as she can. “Look, I’ll talk to my sister tonight. The position is yours if you show up tomorrow at 1:30.”

She doesn’t allow him time to answer, turning around and marching out the front door before he’s fully taken hold of the card.

0000

He doesn’t show up the next afternoon. Or the one after that. Regina doesn’t see him for a week. At first she assumes he’s sick or his son’s sick, but then she sees him on the way to work looking perfectly healthy. His arm is curled across his waist like he’s trying to keep himself warm as he’s drinking from a Styrofoam cup.

She can’t help herself: Regina storms up to him, her heels clacking against the sidewalk. She all but shoves him against the closest building wall, causing him to wince and the drink in his cup to slosh over his hand.

“Look, I’m not doing this for you out of charity, I’m doing it because I want to,” she tells him menacingly. “Do you want your son to grow up in the Glades when an offer like this comes your way?”

“Your highness,” he growls, “that’s not at all -” but his words are cut off by another wince, this one not caused by her own gruffness. Regina watches the arm around his waist tighten with the muscles on his face.

It clicks.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, much more softly and concerned.

“Nothing,” he grounds out. “Nothing’s wrong. Excuse me, I need to go get Roland.”

Robin tries to push her away, but Regina drags him over to a nearby alley and throws his against the wall. Again. This time, he loses his grip on his cup completely, the liquid escaping from its confines and spilling on the concrete.

“You’re going to tell me what’s wrong right now or I’ll call the police.”

“What are they going to do?”

“I don’t know or care,” she say. “What’s wrong?”

Slowly and with much hesitance, Robin lifts up the side of his shirt. Regina would have unabashedly ogled the toned abs he had if it weren’t for the gash up his side. It looks like something sharp – a knife or a scalpel or, hell, even an arrow tip – came from behind and headed into the ground after slicing into him.

“I got into a fight the other night,” Robin tells her. When she looks up at his face, he grimaces. “You should see the other guy.”

“Christ, Robin, what in the world were you thinking?” It’s a rhetorical question because honestly, she doesn’t want to know. Jumping into action, she asks, “Where’s Roland?”

“He’s with a neighbor.”

Regina nods and takes his hand. “You’re coming back with me.”

“What?”

“I’m going to treat this so it doesn’t get infected.”

“No, that’s fine, I really need to get -”

“You’re coming with me.” And that’s the final word on the matter. She sends a quick text to Lena, telling her something’s come up, but she’ll be at the club soon, and drags Robin back to the Mills family home. She’s always the last one to leave, so the house is empty when she walks through the front door, up the grand staircase, and into her private bathroom.

“Sit.” She directs him to sit on the closed toilet lid. “And take your shirt off.”

“Ms. Mills, I really don’t need any help.”

Despite that, he follows her directions with no arguments, but the expression on his face tells her Robin’s got at least 10 different problems with the current situation.

“It isn’t a crime to ask for help, Mr. Locksley,” she scolds him. “Especially when you have no idea what germs and infections you’ve been exposed to in the Glades with a cut like that.”

She’s got peroxide and Neosporin and band aids, but this large of a wound probably needs stitches. Really, she should take him to the hospital, but if he isn’t receptive to coming into her home, she doubts he’ll be any more so to the idea of going to the hospital.

“You know this is going to hurt a lot, right?” Regina asks.

He nods, his face already scrunched up in discomfort. “Just get it over with.”

“You’ll be fine,” she says quietly and comfortingly. She begins dabbing the peroxide on his wound at the same time she presses her lips to his.

It’s nothing like she thought it would be. She expected Robin to have chapped lips, hard and scabbed like his exterior. But they’re soft and he meets her move for move. Regina soon finds herself forgetting to clean the wound and getting lost in him.

When she pulls away, Regina turns away from him and wets another ball of toilet paper with peroxide.

“What was that for?” Robin asks.

She shrugs, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically bashful. “I thought it might distract you from the pain.”

“I should say,” he says on a laugh. “Took my breath away.”

Regina chuckles. She bends down to address his wound again when Robin initiates the kiss this time, curling down toward her and taking her face in his hands.

“You’ll start the bleeding again,” she whispers against his lips.

“Sod it,” he mumbles. His hands come up to frame her face. “If it means you keep trying to distract me like this, then so be it.”

The job should take maybe fifteen minutes. By the time she’s managed to patch Robin up the best she can – a mish-mash of band aids and medical tape coating his side – she’s two hours late for work.

She couldn’t care less.

Leading him – fully clothed – back downstairs, Regina hands him a small slip of paper with her number on it. “If anything hurts, or Roland’s being too rowdy, text me and I’ll try and help out,” she tells him, gently pushing him out the front door.

“Thank you, Ms. Mills.”

“Regina,” she corrects him with a shy grin. “Please, you were half-naked in my bathroom. We’ve reached that point.”

“Of course,” he agrees, a similar expression on his face. “Thank you, Regina.”

“Be careful, Robin.”

“I’ll do my best.” He leaves with a wink.

Regina leans up against the door frame as she watches him walk down the driveway. She doesn’t know exactly why she’s trying so hard for this guy. She reasons that she wants the best for him and his son. Put good into the world and good comes back to you.

And she thinks maybe, just maybe, she can do both with Robin at her side.

[tessatechaitea]

Green Arrow #10

I've never before noticed that leg Green Arrow has coming out of his armpit.

Oh forget the stupid fucking bow, you rich fucker. It's not like it's fucking Rosebud.

Look at the above scan. Diggle is either falling on his face or he's a champion fucking long jumper (with no technique). Diggle would have been better off just running aboard so I think he actually is tripping over his semen soaked, bear beshitted boots. Ollie is all, "The bow is all I have left!" And Dinah is all, "You have like eighty secret hideouts all over Seattle full of trick arrows and pornography! You'll live!" Diggle falls out of the container as it drops onto the train but he's able to hang on with one hand. To a train going like six hundred miles per hour. Um, probably. I bet it's because his hands are still sticky from honey. You know, the honey he ate while cuddling with the bear he fucked on Bear Fuck Island. Oliver, on the other hand (the one not holding onto the train), misses the train completely. Except he's got one chance left! He fires a grapple arrow into the side of the train and doesn't rip both arms out of socket as he hangs on to the rope going taught at, probably, six hundred miles per hour. These are some bad-ass men! What was Dinah so fucking worried about? Oliver boards the train through the back door and now has to walk up to the shipping container to reunite with Black Canary. Diggle is probably dead. On his way, Ollie passes through a train car full of luxury vehicles. He just happens to notice one of them had their trunk forced open even though they're all backed up against the wall and he's walking in front of them. I guess he does need a good eye for shooting arrows so accurately. He jumps to the conclusion that somebody was probably stowing away in the trunk but when he investigates, he just finds a bunch of bottles of an energy drink called "Oh!"

Oh shit. This is the maiden voyage? So no heroin has yet to reach Seattle from Bear Fuck Island? Ollie truly is better than Batman! Also, do you call train journeys voyages? I guess if they're under the ocean, right?

Black Canary shrugs her shoulders and leaves Diggle and Ollie to die. If the idiots couldn't board the carrier in time, that's their stupid problem. Instead of trying to help Diggle, she decides to crawl across the top of the train until she can find a way in. I imagine it must have been heartbreaking ignoring Diggle's screams for help. Percy puts in a bit of Black Canary Narration Boxing so the reader knows she's confident that Ollie and Diggle are okay. I mean, there's no way she can really know that. But I guess she's just an optimist. She decides to go undercover because obviously there is something super suspicious happening on this train. It was being used to transport heroin, for Christ's sake! I mean it was going to be used for that purpose! Of course Black Canary is right not to be worried because Diggle manages to save himself.

The Pacific Ocean isn't hot at all!

Diggle winds up in a fight with the bartender who is a mercenary that recognizes Diggle by reputation. But he'll be all right, I'm sure. Dinah certainly isn't worried as she steals a dress that conveniently has a black canary pattern on the front. As if anybody else in the world has ever heard of a black canary! Um, they're not really a thing, are they? Dinah runs into some guy named Amin Mustafa who decides it's more important to try to get laid than to have a hot woman prove her identity to security. I totally get that!

Uh-oh! I bet I know what's going to happen!

Actually, I already knew something like that was going to happen because being a Grandmaster Comic Book Reader, I made sure to contemplate and analyze the title of the story before reading the story. The title was "Murder on the Empire Express". I didn't say they're all hard to analyze. Mustafa recognizes Dinah Lance as the lead singer of Black Canary but it doesn't seem to worry him. He does remember how every single venue Black Canary played would wind up trashed, right? And he does remember that they're a mile or two beneath the surface of the ocean, right?! This is going to be a disaster! Meanwhile, Ollie read the ingredients on Oh! and realized that the main ingredient is conotoxin. According to Google, I mean Ollie, it's "one of the deadliest and swiftest poisons in the world." But not only that! He also says, "If blended with phenol, you've got a toxic cocktail that would shut down your organs and jelly your brain." If it's so swift and deadly, why does it need to be made swifter and deadlier? And how come Oliver knows this stuff? Did he learn it while on The Island? Oliver makes a Boxing Glove Arrow and fans are all, "Ugh. Really? That was cool and funny and retro like the first five thousand times it's been brought back. But this five thousandth and one time is just too much." Then he finds Diggle bleeding all over the place. Diggle warns him that there's an assassin on board! And Oliver is all, "Duh! I already figured that out. Totally way before you did. You've got no game, brother." Not long after that, Mustafa drinks some non-alcoholic champagne and drops dead. She's all, "There's an assassin on board! I just figured it out when this guy was assassinated!" She's the worst of the three! The poison works too quickly because Mustafa dies almost immediately after taking a sip and now everybody knows the champagne is poisoned and nobody else is going to drink it. I mean, maybe a few people will because they're terribly thirsty and they don't believe bad things ever happen to them. But fuck those people. They were probably going to get hit by a car on a dark, rainy night anyway thinking, "That car has to stop for me because it's the law." To make sure even those fuckwits don't die, Black Canary uses her Canary Cry to shatter all of the champagne flutes. And probably a bunch of ear drums too. And maybe one or two brain stems. Green Arrow arrives as the assassin tries to flee the train car. Then he explains how his plan totally worked although he doesn't explain exactly why he wanted it to work. I guess he was just paid by somebody with an interest in keeping the Middle East and North Africa from forming some kind of peace treaty. Green Arrow figures it's the perfect time to be an annoying scold.

He's a murderer for hire! Do you think he fucking cares?!

Green Arrow is all, "You're disgusting! So gross! Problematic to the nth degree!" And the assassin is all, "Oh! I'm so ashamed now! I want people to like me and my pockets bulging with blood money!" The assassin gets away because Green Arrow wants to hear the answer to his riddle, "Ever heard of an Irish Goodbye?" Instead of saying "No" while knocking the guy out, Oliver is all, "What's that?!" Then the assassin shuts down the lights and sneaks away.

Then this happens and nobody says, "Oh no! It was this other guy who completely confessed to it and even said why he killed Amin. These two were trying to stop him!", because this is a stupid comic book and poorly written and desperate for some kind of shitty cliffhanger, no matter how fucking contrived it might be. Also, I think Black Canary may have broken her back at some point during the story.

The Rating! -1! From now on, whenever a comic book ends like this where the heroes have just stopped the bad guy but then the everyday heroes come along and decide to arrest or beat up the good guys, I am dropping the stupid fucking comic book. It's the trope I hate the most and I'm currently incensed! I'm angrier about this than people thinking Trump is smart. How stupid do you have to be to listen to Trump speak and think, "That guy sure ain't dumb!"?