#therebetterbepie
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@therebetterbepie from here
[James Dean]: Considering I’m looking at them right now, yeah, pretty sure
[James Dean]: On a roof across the street (stakeout)
[James Dean]: Why? What’s
[James Dean]: Wtf
[James Dean]: No, seriously, what the actual fuck, what is this, some kind of smoke monster?
[James Dean]: Now he's on the floor and the other guy’s got black eyes, what the hell is happening right now???
[James Dean]: …How bad are we talking, here? Scale of 1 to 10?
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@therebetterbepie [-drops a half-dead Dickiebird at your feet like a cat-]
He's tired. He's been pushing himself nonstop for days, ever since the cemetery. Since Jason. Since learning his baby brother hates him. He's always assumed that would be the case, of course - why the hell would Jason think otherwise? - but to have it confirmed…to know that Jason is alive and well, somehow, and wants nothing to do with him. Has disowned him. After everything else he's lost over these past few months, what else does Dick have left but his work?
He can't even go back to Bruce. Not now. Not after Blockbuster. After Bludhaven. And if Bruce knew about Jason? Knew and didn't tell him? What does that say about their relationship? More than enough. The weight of his failures is crushing him, each one parading through his head almost non-stop. Getting fired from the 'haven PD. Losing Babs. Killing Blockbuster. Catalina, god he wishes he could forget her; every time she crosses his mind it makes his skin crawl. Sophie, and Slade, and Chemo falling on Bludhaven, and now Jason, back from the dead…
The only thing that stops the parade is his work. It gives him something to focus on, something to do, even though a part of him knows this is stupid. Self-destructive. Dangerous. The rest of him doesn't care. Hell, it almost welcomes the pain. How many fights tonight alone? Six? Seven? He's lost count. Took a couple bullets here and there. A knife, once. And now he's finishing up on a herd of Talons that damn near came close to ripping him to shreds. But he's still standing, somehow.
Still standing.
Barely.
A part of him is disappointed by that.
Arm tucked over his stomach Dick stumbles his way out of the alley, fetching up against a wall once or twice and leaving a streak of blood behind each time. He should probably call for help. He has to keep moving. Get to the next fight. There's always a next fight. But maybe…
Is there a chill in the air?
Maybe this time there won't be. He runs into the wall again, slides down it. Tired. Getting darker. Light must be out here; happens sometimes in these alleys, no one bothers to check the bulbs on the regular. Footsteps approaching. Should reach for his sticks. Sit up. Too tired. Sticks already in hand. Doesn't matter. Can't move. And this is Gotham. Maybe the footsteps will just pass by. Just leave him here. It's dark, he's in black. Easy to miss. Right?
#therebetterbepie#dick ic#dick verse: gone solo#tw: suicide ideation#[here you go dean he's bleeding out in an alley after being cut to shreds and probably poisoned by those Talons good luck >w>]
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He's doing the hand thing again. Gesticulating in the shape of Dean's wide strokes, he sighs. "You need to tighten up your penmanship. From this angle, your symbols are bleeding into each other -- Is that a Saturn, or Jupiter inverted?" He's helping. Gale is so certain he's helping now, perched and overseeing the hunter's work. Dragging dark eyes across the sigils, he pauses in his idle hand movements. "Is that Sal gemmae? I didn't realize until I felt it out." // @therebetterbepie, 🧙
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continued with @therebetterbepie from x
"All the time." White cloak draped in front of him where he stood by the open window. "Only two days?" Apocalypse rolled turquoise-silver eyes burning twin holes in the bed lump. "No. It's not an apocalypse. We get those on Wednesdays around here." Driest of humor. "There's a vampire pyramid scheme causing trouble around town. Happen to come across any vampires recently talking about the Tutor? They sound like venture capitalists."
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@therebetterbepie | short starter call
He missed, sometimes, the days of ignorant bliss. When everything had a simple explanation and all threats were human. No super enhancements, no literal gods, and no— well, whatever he just saw. "What the hell was that?"
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continued from here {x}
The brief look of surprise on Bucky’s face was gone in an instant with Dean’s reaction to seeing him, though at the same time he knew shouldn’t have been. The man seemed to have a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth more often than naught and apparently that hadn't changed during the time since they had last seen each other.
“Maybe you should consider looking in the mirror before you laugh at how I look.” Already Bucky found himself beginning to regret acknowledging Dean was even there, taking a long sip of his bourbon but then paused with a smirk over the rim of the glass. "Let me guess, you got into a fight with a ghost and lost. Casper, was it?"
@therebetterbepie
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~ @therebetterbepie || a lil starter || From Tony ~
"The sixties called - They want their car back." Tony's lips lift, smirk playful as he steps out of his suit, the nanotech disappearing around him. Whilst he can appreciate vintage, Tony's much more a 'newest car, newest gadget possible' type of guy. "Let me guess - You were born in the wrong decade? Bet you've got a mixtape in there as well of all the golden oldies." He leans over to look inside the window of the car. "Genuine question - Are you sixty years old and do you have a pair of original Levi's? Because that would really complete the look."
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"want to do something stupid to take your mind off all this?"
" Do you even have to ask ? --- I do stupid without even trying to. "
#[ let's say this is mikey -- he's grown a bit...but not much ]#therebetterbepie#[ verse; mirror mirror ]
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( @therebetterbepie // continued from here )
pretty out of it didn't even feel like it said enough. he could give him some credit for being one of few humans that could stay upright as long as he could. at least ones that weren't nursing a bottle constantly. he'd say he must lean heavily into it, however. he doesn't blame him entirely ( even now, armand enjoyed blood rich and warm with in liquor ) and knowing the world that hunters buried themselves in? dean wouldn't be the first he saw that could kill a drink just as well as he could a creature.
❝ i was afraid if i'd have bit you, i'd have had alcohol poisoning, ❞ and while it's a joke as far as biting him had never been been in the cards, he did think that he was far off in the clouds by the end of the night.
❝ you might want to consider a little less dedication to the bit. because if you did get more than usual, i have a nagging suspicion you can't remember, ❞ and that is said with a faint smile over the curve of his mouth, amusement filtering into his voice. ❝ i hope the floor was comfortable enough, i didn't have the heart to move you. ❞
#therebetterbepie#interactions // dean winchester ( therebetterbepie )#someone burned the church // supernatural#heyy! hope you don't mind i continued it
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+ @therebetterbepie
#therebetterbepie#( v. sometimes home is a person )#( .ahv60 )#( c. anna howard )#(idek if you'll be back and see this)#(but she was like)#(the three emotions whenever dean is mentioned)#(and here we are xD)#( .ic interactions )
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@therebetterbepie because I live for the pain
What was he even doing here? He shouldn’t…he should be back at his crummy safehouse, figuring out his next move. Things didn’t go as planned, the only thing to do now was regroup and reevaluate. Instead he was standing outside a familiar door in a worn red hoodie and jeans, fresh bandage on his throat standing out starkly from beneath the collar, sans mask.
This was stupid. Jason was stupid. He should never have come here. He should have learned his lesson, by now. Tonight had proven that he couldn’t trust people to care. That he was in this on his own. And yet…
And yet.
Jaw tense as he struggled to will back several conflicting emotions, he knocked on the door, immediately shoving both hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. He looked down, careful not to move his neck too much, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Maybe Dean wouldn’t be home. Maybe—
The door opened. Jason stared at Dean’s feet. Managed to croak a “Hey,” before not quite hiding a wince.
#therebetterbepie#✦ ic: jason todd#✦ verse: crime lord (jason todd)#✦ closed starter: jason todd#mwah
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@normaltothemax asked for this >w>
"Hey, Jay. It's been a while."
Dick pauses in front of the headstone, staring at the name carved on it. He knows it by heart, of course, has done since the moment he saw it, but that doesn't make looking at it any easier. Jason doesn't belong here, not if there was any justice in this world. He ought to be still alive, still laughing and being a general little shit and bouncing over trips to the bookstore or new deliveries from Wilde's in Kensington, not…not here, beneath a granite cross.
And it has been a while since Dick's been able to visit. Everything with Bludhaven kind of devoured his life - almost literally, especially over the past half a year - and now with Bludhaven gone…well, here he is. And feelng guilty as hell about it. Sure, it's only been a year since his last visit, but even so. He could have made time earlier.
With a soft sigh he settles on the ground beside the headstone, laying the small bouquet of flowers he brought at its base. Jason's favorites; he can still remember that, even after all this time. Leaning against the stone Dick stares at the grass, lost in thought. Where should he begin…?
"Bruce is doing okay," he says quietly. "Alfred, too, and Babs. She and Alfred trade recipes sometimes; she gave him one for a cinnamon cookie the other day that you would've loved. I'm back in town now, at least for a while, so I'll try to come visit more."
A pause. Dick's hand runs over the grass idly. "…I miss you, y'know. We all do. I know I've said it before, but I-…I should've been there for you. More than I was. Hell, I should've been there at all. You were a good kid - a helluva good kid - and I was…I was too busy being angry at Bruce to bother seeing it. I've…I've tried to make up for that, with Tim. Tried to be there for him, so I don't fail him the way I failed you. I think it's been working, for the most part, so there's that."
He falls silent then, hand still tracing over the grass. At this hour, with the sun's last rays shining over the horizon, the cemetery's deserted except for him; there's no one to really hear if he keeps speaking aloud. That's why he chose now to visit, to ensure he won't be disturbed. The words keep coming after a few more moments.
"…A part of me wonders if you hate me for that. For not being there. For failing you. You've got every right to; you deserved better than that. I should've been better than that. I should've been there. But I wasn't. Not even when you needed me most. I'd hate me for that; I can't blame you if you do."
He laughs softly then, hollow and mirthless. "I've let everyone down, it seems…You, and now Babs, and Bruce…and Bludhaven…But hell, you don't want to hear me whining about that," he adds with a shake of his head. "I know I wouldn't. And you're probably tired as hell of me apologizing, but…what else can I do? I can't change the past. Can't make it up to you, not really…best I can do is just try to learn from my mistakes and not fuck things up again. Doesn't feel like enough, some days, but what choice have I got?"
Dick sighs again, eyes sliding closed as his head rests against the gravestone. "…I miss you, little wing. I'm sorry I never told you that before. I'm sorry I'm saying it so late now. I'm sorry I couldn't be the brother you deserved. And I promise I'll visit more often now I'm back in town. I owe you that much at least."
#normaltothemax#therebetterbepie#dick ic#dick verse: gone solo#dick thread: graveside chat#[this kinda got away from me whoops#no one worry about matching length here]
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[wrong number] just google your location, i'm sure that'll work.
[wrong number] nevermind i just tried and mine told me i was at burger king.
[wrong number] who is this again by the way? you're just saved under ???? in my phone and that's really not helping me here.
[ @therebetterbepie ] ha ha very funny, Timbo
[ maybe Tim ] my shit is all wet and freakin out
[ maybe Tim ] as if I never thought to try to gps my location on my own
[ maybe Tim ] arent you supposed to be the tech genius?
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continued from (x)
“– yeah, i am suggestin’ that. this ain’t purgatory, Benny. it’s not the same. i just got you back. besides, this is my day job. i got this.”
“ this is yer day job with your monster-killer little brother. now i’m not lettin’ you go on in there on yer own, dean. my wounds heal up with a double dose of AB+. yours sure don’t. ”
#therebetterbepie#main ; gunfire & salt water | therebetterbepie#( interactions )#also goood.#be aeeeesthetiiic w/ me
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@therebetterbepie liked for a starter
“Do not try to lie to me.”
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🩸 to find my muse after they've been in a fight. (Bucky of course!)
A year since the Triskelion fell into the Hudson and yet another hydra base was destroyed. It had been a long journey of becoming a person again while trying to get his memories back and personally burning every hydra base in the country to the ground. After he was finished, he would head to europe and do the same thing there, having decades of torture to make up for.
Sitting in the back of the bar, Bucky sipped on his high end bourbon, his reward for a job well done. The bruises on his cheekbone and circling around up to his brow bone were already beginning to heal, the colors not as grotesque as they were a few hours before. Aches and pains were beginning to fade into the simple soreness of an overworked muscle. Another sip and his gaze lifted from the crappy small table to glance around the room, looking for anyone who might be considered unsavory...only to have his eyes fall on a familiar face walking by towards the bathrooms.
"Dean?"
@therebetterbepie
#therebetterbepie#muse: bucky - staring problem - barnes#I'm so excited for these two!#I hope this is okay
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