hi so game changer was literally a stucky hockey AU anyway how is your day going

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@faedotcom
hi so game changer was literally a stucky hockey AU anyway how is your day going
Inspired by one of the greatest tweets of all time.
Daeron Targaryen your dreams too vivid your face too handsome your fate too sad they’ll kill you
Guys is this trend still a thing? Guys? GUYS- COME BACK-
I’ve been watching MHA recently can u tell
Yeah notice me in the background sobbing my eyes out??
bumper sticker idea
sequel
Reblog to cast healing for your homies.
Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal
(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)
Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.
He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.
So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.
But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League
It starts out with a friendly visit :)
Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.
He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.
It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.
“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”
Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can’t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.
Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.
Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”
“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.
But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.
She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.
Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.
And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.
Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.
They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.
Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.
He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.
He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?
If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.
They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!
So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.
But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem
Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.
And “make friends?” They’re all masked
But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham
(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)
And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.
Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.
They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.
And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.
Not all of them are appreciated.
Attempt #1: “Making Friends”
After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.
Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?
Write A Mission Statement
What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.
And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.
To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.
Every turn, he is argued with.
“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”
Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”
Bruce already regrets joining.
All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.
“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”
Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.
The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)
But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)
Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.
He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.
That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.
Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.
Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.
He is the youngest by ten years.
Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.
So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.
And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.
He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?
But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤
(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)
The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.
One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”
Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”
One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”
Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.
(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)
Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.
God, he just wants to go home.
Why is he doing this again?
Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends
The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.
He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)
“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”
Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”
Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.
One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.
Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.
In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.
A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.
(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)
And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.
He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.
It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)
And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad
So they stop moaning and groaning
Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!
Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??
One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.
(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)
(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)
Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”
Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.
(He likes older men.)
(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)
(Sue me.)
(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)
(Coward.)
One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.
They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)
One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier
“Wait…is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.
(The answer is yes.)
A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.
In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??
Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.
They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.
Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”
Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”
The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board
Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.
A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.
Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.
And, of course, they play FMK at some point.
(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)
During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:
Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:
He tried
Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?
The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.
Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.
Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.
But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—
Takes off his cowl.
And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.
Then, “Oh fuck.”
(That was Green Lantern.)
Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.
He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.
The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”
The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.
He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)
“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.
Meanwhile, the others are like—
Oh. My. God.
Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.
And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.
Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.
Sue her.
They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF
And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)
He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”
The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”
No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies
They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.
(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)
They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:
(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)
At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”
Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.
Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.
For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.
After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”
Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”
They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.
(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)
Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.
But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.
They learned a lot about their friend that night.
And they have a lot of bets to cash in.
FIN
Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)
Hey bestie @bruciemilf
"Jegulus would never be canon!"
No I know.
"But- you-"
Nothing in this entire fandom has remained Canon since the moment it was put down on paper. Canonically, the marauders and their predecessors live in a world of homophobia racism and hate. canonically? James Potter is WHITE. Canonically? Most of them are dead. Canonically? Peter turned on every one of his closely bound friends.
You wanna talk about canonical? Canonical doesn't exist here. It's a loosely bound concept, quite frankly. And not agreeing with one ship? Sure. Absolutely. Agree to disagree. But using the inconsistencies as an excuse is nothing short of hypocritical.
Anyway! Hope you enjoyed my Ted Talk.
if demigods could have electronics,
do y’all think leo would read fanfiction?
Jason Grace after taking 11 Ls in the same book
hi hi hi Lost Trio dynamic but instead of Piper carrying the braincell, LEO carries the braincell of the group 90% of the time
Piper and Jason looking at the check and not knowing how to split it and pulls out calculators and Leo rolling his eyes and splitting the check in his head
Piper talking about a cool internet hack where you can make a super cleaner by mixing bleach and vinegar and Leo stopping her in the track saying that's how you make chlorine and DIE
Jason: its fine if i eat moldy cheese right
Piper: yeah go for it it adds flavor
Leo: NO STOP WHAT KIND OF MOLD IS IT
“this character is dead” to you maybe. I don't know where y'all live but I live in denial
petition to give my babygirl jason grace a personality (and a bf (cough leo cough))
something something about rockstar eddie on tour telling everyone left and right about his sweetheart, his stevie, the light of his life, his sweet lil baby. getting more and more excited about when he's going to see his sweetheart at a concert soon.
the roadies and techs are kinda excited about it - placing bets on what kind of girl could have big bad rockstar eddie munson this starry eyed. with the way eddie is going on they are absolutely convinced that she's some tiny little slip of a girl that wears pastel pink everywhere and has never ever done anything bad in her life.
the big day arrives, everyone is excited to meet eddie's lil princess...but instead "sweet little babygirl stevie" is some big jock dude in a polo shirt and lightwash jeans who carries around equipment like it weighs nothing and who swears like a sailor when someone nearly drops an amp on his foot.
By not letting Steve and Eddie fight side by side we were not only robbed of seeing Steve and Eddie fight back-to-back with a nail bat and shield. But we also missed the opportunity for the Molotov cocktail to fail in the big fight against Vecna, leaving Steve ‘great at shotgunning beer’ Harrington and Eddie ‘chain-smoker’ Munson to make do with what they have and their whits.
I’m imagining Steve racing to the rescue, grabbing the remains of the bottle, cutting his lip as he takes a long swig of vodka and gestures for Eddie to throw him his lighter. What ensues is a scene of Steve spitting blood and fire to set Vecna ablaze. Leaving Eddie and his years-long obsession with dragons and Steve Harrington to implode on site.
hey zar! for the richard silken ask game: 18. please, just for one night, will you lie down next to me?
18. please, just for one night, will you lie down next to me?
(tw: implied mcd)
"Is this what ruined it?" Regulus asks, arm outstretched next to him. The mark is on display. Such an ugly thing; fitting for something ugly on the outside to reflect the ugly within.
James doesn't say anything, kneeling there next to him. Pitying the pitiful thing before him.
"Is this what ruined us?" Regulus asks. It comes out in a croak, dry and raspy. Cracking between his teeth. Brittle. "Say it's not. I'd rather believe we were doomed than think we had a chance."
Somewhere, someone is screaming. Sirius. They have Sirius. Go to him, James. Please go to him. Why isn't he going to him? Regulus can't make it there from the ground, and he won't even try. For his brother—not even for his brother would he crawl. Regulus isn't supposed to crawl. That's not his place. He's supposed to stand above the rest, watching them writhe down below like he's the belly of the beast trapping them there; he's supposed to crush them.
His place, now, is on the ground, crushed under the weight of a beast not even love, or loss, can grant him the strength to fight. He can't even stand up. He won't even crawl.
"Come on, Regulus, come to me," James whispers, hands held out like an offering. What happens if Regulus reaches out and takes it? "I have to get you out of here. I can't help you if you won't let me. For once, just come to me."
Regulus didn't when he had the chance. All those stupid, foolish moments stolen in the shadows where they couldn't be seen. Don't tell anyone, James said. Not yet. Not until we know.
They both knew from the beginning, and that's why James never wanted anyone to know. They both knew where it'd end. When he found it, when he saw the mark, there were tears in his eyes, but there wasn't surprise.
"I wish someone had believed in me," Regulus rasps. "Isn't that selfish?"
It is. Pointless, too. He kneeled when he took the mark, like the only place you can sign your life away is from your knees. Funny, James hit his knees, too, when he begged Regulus to choose him, or anything else other than this. Did he sign his life away then? Couldn't have, when he's still living. He kept right on living, and Regulus didn't. When he hit his knees, he never really got back up. Wouldn't stand for James; wouldn't crawl for Sirius. Will lie here and die, for himself.
This is his place.
"Regulus, love, I can help you," James tells him, a gentle promise that makes Regulus' very bones ache. "I can. Come on, come to me."
Regulus is so tired of this place, and desperate to go away, to go anywhere else. Sirius is still in pain and screaming like it'll never stop. If Regulus can crawl to James, he can stand for Sirius, with his help, and they can go to him together. Is it too late? It doesn't have to be too late, does it?
I'm beyond saving, Regulus said once.
No one's beyond saving, James had replied, voice soft in his ear, lips softer against his own right after. How clandestine it was, a forbidden secret cradled between them both, sparked with a traded look that eventually went away when James stopped meeting his eyes.
Regulus crawls now, for James. Crawls to him on the ground, on his belly, dragging himself around like a bug smearing its guts from the heavy foot of fate that came down upon it. Not fate, not really. He chose this, remember?
He's choosing something else this time, and so he crawls. It chips his nails, leaves him gasping through a sandpaper throat, parched for life and for memories. All he wanted for such a long time was to feel James' arms around him as the world faded away, meaningless, inconsequential; just nothing that could exist, other than them.
All those kisses, and all those touches, and all those shadowed corners carrying the secrets of a love that could only ever shrivel up into ash in the light—all of that, and they never shared a bed. Regulus dreamed of it, sometimes, what it might have felt like just to have James wrapped around him, shielding him from the rest of the world; or, perhaps, protecting the world from him. He thinks maybe if he knew, if he had a taste of what that was, he would have never turned away from it. Everything with James was too much, and in the end, it wasn't enough.
"Almost there," James breathes out, eyes shining with hope that existed for such a short time. It was only there long enough for Regulus to wish with everything in him that it could stay.
James hoped, but he didn't believe. Regulus never once gave him a reason to. If only they had held each other; if only they knew what it was not to let go. It would have been enough, then.
It would be enough, now.
"So close, you're so close, Regulus, that's it," James murmurs, a croon, a mirage wavering through Regulus' blurred vision.
Everything hurts. It all hurts. There's a fire in Regulus' lungs, one extinguished by the hands that branded him long ago, not that long ago, hands offered to him now—and Regulus is going now, when he didn't then. It's not too late. It's not.
Please, just for one night, will you lie down next to me? Regulus thinks, gagging and crawling and getting there; he's getting there. That would be enough. One night would be enough. It would ruin me, but better that than being doomed never to have it. Please, James. Please.
"There you are," James breathes out, triumphant, lit up with pride and joy and love, so much love.
Regulus reaches out and touches him. James ripples under his hand, ice-cold, and reaches back. Clamps down on his wrist. Yanks.
This is his place. Right here, with claws in his skin and water flooding his mouth. Even drowning doesn't drown out Sirius' screams.