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Thomas Wayne does NOT want to kill himself | Episode 10

only ten wow

u and me combined btw

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October 7th, 2024.

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It had been a while since Thomas' investigation into the university murders and not much had happened. Other than him becoming eighteen.

The main reason for his lack of investigation had been... well, another investigation. Into the person that killed his parents, that is. Some would say it's selfish, even Thomas himself would, but it's never stopped him before and likely never will.

Thomas was on his way to the Batcave and the Kryptonian was asleep in his room. He slept a lot, Thomas had noticed. He also looked tired all the time, Thomas could relate but Thomas is also a vigilante who sleeps little and doesn't get any sun.

He wouldn't say he was necessarily ''worried'' about the alien, but he was... slightly concerned. A small bit. Teeny tiny.

Anyhow, Thomas stepped into the Batcave, his hands fisted as he walked over to the Batcomputer, having to walk down a diamond-plated mezzanine to get to do so. After he got to the desk, he sat himself on the chair in front of the towering set of monitors. Combined, they made up one giant monitor, but they actually were just a lot of normal ones lined up perfectly against each other.

Batman has really meticulous display settings.

After sitting down, Thomas rolled over to the computer, staring down at the keyboard absentmindedly for a while as he tried to remember what he was doing, one eye drifting away from the other.

Ah yes, parents' murderer. Thomas shook his head, eyes widening for a second as he pinched his nose before typing a name into the Batcomputer's criminal database.

He'd known a man's name for a while, at least two birthdays, but he wanted to be sure. This is the entire reason he became Robin. Vengeance drives him.

He might say it's "Justice" or whatever to most, but the two are identical. Or, at least he thinks there's no justice without punishment.

This name didn't belong to the killer, but someone close enough to them to give him a lead.

Michael McGraw.

After hitting enter, the Batcomputer showed basically everything about Michael from his date of birth to his most recent offence, place of residence, everything.

"Computer, save this to ROB-dash-04's info sheet," Thomas said, his voice wobbly before he cleared his throat, standing up and bending his back backwards until it cracked before walking over and back up the mezzanine, turning right past a wall of rock where all the suits were kept in display cases. He walked over to his still-unfinished suit, grabbing only the chest armour off of it and the undersuit behind it. He clipped the armour onto the chest of the undersuit and then did the same with the armour that would usually cover his stomach. Afterwards, he took off the slightly oversized Radiohead shirt he was wearing and looked around before kicking his sneakers off and taking his sweatpants off, leaving him in his boxers before he put his legs into the undersuit to put it on, then the armour on after.

After doing so, he put his normal clothes back on. The armour was made to fit his chest almost perfectly, so it didn't come too far off and make his chest look large.

Thomas looked around for a second, thinking before realising he forgot to bring his actual cover clothes down with him and he can't really be bothered going all the way back up to the tip top of the manor to his room for them.

He groaned a little before walking all the way back to the Batcomputer's desk and pressed a button near the end of the right side of it, the button vibrating for a while before it stopped, Alfred walked in a few moments later.

"Yes, Master Thomas?" The butler inquired, his hands behind his back. His voice was raised as he was at the main entrance of the Batcave from the manor, so he was a good bit away from Thomas.

"If you could get me a jacket, kneepads and elbow pads from my room that would be great. And my face scarf. And a hoodie if the jacket has no hood. Actually, no get me a hoodie regardless."

"Right away, Master Thomas," Alfred said, usually he'd return such an order with sarcasm, especially with Thomas and Damian, but he's been the one basically parenting the boy for almost 4 years now, he can tell he isn't in the mood. So he walked off, away to get Thomas his clothes.

Thomas nodded, mostly to himself as Alfred left, seating himself back on the chair in front of the Batcomputer, staring at the I.D picture of the man on the monitor.

This could be it. Tonight could be the night. Maybe he'll feel something that isn't anger and sadness for the first time in a decade now.

Maybe he'll feel nothing. But at least he'll have closure. He's thought before he wasn't looking for closure but what other reason is there? Vengeance and closure go hand in hand.

"What are you doin'?" A voice spoke, Thomas spun around on the chair to see who it was, his eyes somehow both wide and narrowed at the same time.

Grayson.

Surprisingly enough, for being most of the family's favourite member and Robin, Thomas barely sees Dick. Sure, he's usually in Bludhaven, but still.

"Stuff." Thomas murmured (this will be repeated and we both know it), one arm still on the desk to control the mouse, his voice quiet and faint from not talking much.

"Stuff?" Dick asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hmmph." Thomas breathed out, rolling back around to face the desk the Batcomputer sat on, pulling a drawer underneath the top of the desk open and pulling out a little plastic tin where he kept his eyeshadow, just to try and void himself out of most people's sight, to which Dick let out a soft chuckle.

The air was somewhat awkward between the two 'brothers' as they were probably the ones who spent the least time together. Actually, maybe they spent no time together. A few shared looks as Robin and Nightwing whenever they happened to stumble across each other, but Thomas and Dick have never actually exchanged words, to Thomas' memory, at least.

"Who's the guy?" Dick asked, moving closer to Thomas as he nodded at the man shown on the Batcomputer's monitor, Thomas glanced from doing his eyeshadow to look at Dick, his eyes narrowing a little as he noted a light blue wristband on Dick's wrist before he turned back to do his makeup.

"A lead." Thomas mumbled, his voice somewhat still as he tried to refrain from moving his face too much.

Dick rolled his eyes at Thomas' continued short-spoken answers, scoffing a bit. He's seen Jason act like this, Tim, Damian, even himself. "Stop talking like that." "Like what?" The younger brother asked, still doing his makeup, although scowling ever so slightly, not that Dick could see.

"Like... that. Like Bruce."

"I'm not... talking like Bruce. Maybe I just don't wanna talk. To you."

"Yeah, and you're talking like how Bruce does when he doesn't want to talk," Dick spoke, his tone direct and lined with the nearly fifteen years of experience he has with Bruce and the other Robin's copying of his behaviour. Except for the others stopped after a year or two, Thomas has been acting this way for the past four years since he became Robin.

"You don't need to act like him to be... good at this. To be a good hero or vigilante or whatever."

To that, Thomas just slowly turned around, his makeup practically done with his fingertips stained from spreading the eyeshadow around his eyes.

"I'm not acting like him, you literal dick. I'm acting how I have been acting for the past eight years. Sorry, I don't want to act like a f=" Thomas stopped himself, inhaling slowly as he put his hands in his pockets to rub the eyeshadow off his fingers into them.

"I don't want to act like a boy scout, especially for fifteen years like you. I don't want to do insane fucking flips and tricks to grieve. I am acting how I want to act." Thomas said, his voice laced with a small amount of anger as he turned the chair back over to face the Batcomputer.

"If you wanted to change that, you should've tried being a brother four years ago. Go back to Bludhaven, Dick. I don't need you. Gotham doesn't need you."

"I-" Dick attempted to speak but Thomas had already turned around, having basically shut the conversation down. He sighed and frowned before turning away and making his way towards the entrance into the manor, brushing past Alfred along the way, Thomas was able to make out a few quiet greetings between the two before Alfred re-entered the cave, making his way over to Thomas and setting his requested items next to him on the desk.

Thomas let out a small hum of appreciation, although not looking at the butler, simply sitting there and thinking for a few moments before speaking.

"You know what I'm going to do, don't you?"

"Yes, Master Thomas."

Thomas' brows furrowed, maybe in confusion, maybe in annoyance, mostly in confusion. He turned around, looking up at Alfred.

"You aren't gonna stop me?"

"Would you stop if I tried?" Is all the butler asked, looking down at the younger man with his hands behind his back. His voice surprisingly still it's usual level and calm tone.

"Guess not." Thomas murmured, grabbing the stuff Alfred got for him and moving back over to where the suits were held to change. It only took him a few minutes to re-emerge, the hood of the hoodie under the jacket and the face scarf mixed with the eyeshadow doing a decent job of hiding him away without needing the actual suit.

Alfred was still standing next to the Batcomputer, his eyes barely widening at the sight of Thomas as the vigilante walked back over to the Batcomputer to grab his phone to look at his info sheet.

"Master Richard wasn't wrong, you know. You do act a lot like Bruce. You even dress like him. When the Riddler went on his, well, terroristic rampage when your father had practically just started, he wore something basically identical to that."

"It's just an outfit, Alfred, there's no meaning to it. It's hiding in plain sight." Thomas sighed out, stuffing his phone in his right jacket pocket, and zipping it up after, walking over to what looked like a small opening in the cave, but it opened up to a large 'garage' of sorts. Where every important vehicle to the Batfamily was kept apart from Dick's, which had always shown to Thomas that he'd fully relocated to Bludhaven.

Thomas admits he did keep some non-important vehicles here, but they were important to him. Just bikes and cars that would keep him incognito.

Alfred followed after Thomas as he walked over to his non-modified motorcycle. A boring paint job, an unknown manufacturer. Perfect for him.

"I do have to ask though, Master Thomas, what is it you hope to get out of tonight?" The older gentleman asked, still at the entrance of the room as Thomas mounted his motorcycle. The teenager stared down at the handles of his bike, trying to think of a proper answer.

"Justice, I guess."

"Not vengeance?"

"They're the same thing. One's just nicer to hear."

Alfred let out a soft scoff, not a patronising one, not one dismissing what Thomas said, more just because it was something he'd heard before. Two times before, actually.

"I don't even have to tell you who said that first."

"And I don't have time for another lecture about being too much like Bruce. You've been doing it for the past four years." Thomas said before he inhaled sharply, he gripped the handlebars of his bike tight to try and not slam down on them, then pulled down the face scarf covering his mouth.

"Isn't it just possible I'm still grieving and I don't know how to handle it? JUST BECAUSE I'M SAD AND- AND FUCKING... I DON'T KNOW, ANGSTY, THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M BRUCE REINCARNATE!"

"I DON'T NEED YOU, I DON'T NEED TIM, I DON'T NEED DICK OR BRUCE HIMSELF TO KEEP FUCKING REPEATING HOW SIMILAR I AM TO HIM!" Thomas yelled across the cavernous garage, his voice echoing off the rocky walls, his hands squeezing the handles of his bike as he tried to calm down. "BECAUSE I'M NOT! YOU ALL JUST HAVE SUCH A LIMITED FUCKING VIEW OF ME, I-"

"Just... get out of my way and take care of Zac for me."

Alfred, after hearing Thomas blow up, simply let out a nod after a few moments before walking away, Thomas sighing after he left.

(blink)

Thomas sat on his bike for a minute, inhaling, holding for three to five seconds before exhaling over and over to try and clear his head.

After one last breathing exercise, he pulled his face scarf back up and drove onto the exit platform of the Batcave, after about ten seconds, it activated. Lifting Thomas up until the ground above opened up, some snow spilling onto the platform before Thomas emerged into the night. He revved his bike before driving off, the platform sinking back down after and the "doors" in the ground closed, hiding the cave once more.

It was night, which seemed to be the only time of day Thomas had seen in the past few... years. When he rode into Gotham, the faint, cold scent of winter hit his nostrils. A scent that would always bring back a nostalgic feeling to him. James at this time of the year would probably be rummaging around the house trying to find what Christmas gifts his parents had got him, maybe a new edition of a Wonder Woman comic or a signed baseball glove his dad got on an eBay bid.

All the more reason tonight is so important.

Thomas pulled over on a seemingly random street after driving for about an hour to get to the district known as Crown Point, the roads and pavement scattered with debris and garbage.

He took out his phone, looking around before signing into an app, glancing around after hearing a few dogs bark back and forth before accessing his info sheet to check his information on Michael McGraw.

ADDRESS - 19TH RIGGERS AVENUE | CROWN POINT | GOTHAM CITY

Thomas was confident he was on the right street, so he put his hood up and took a pair of gloves out of his right jacket pocket and put them on, then slung a leg over to his right to stand up off his bike, turning it off and cracking his back before walking away from the bike to try and find the correct address.

After a few minutes of walking around Riggers Avenue, Thomas found house 19. He was expecting an apartment when he first got the info a while back, especially these days. A house at least gives him more space for evidence.

He walked up to the front door and knocked a few times. Well, bashed, really. He was kind of betting on Michael not being in, but he was fine using force. He's willing to go against any sort of "not getting caught code" for closure.

After a minute of no answer, Thomas glanced around the streets, the orange-ish lights from the lamposts the only thing lighting up the broken-down neighbourhood. After he was sure no one was outside with him, he tried kicking the door down, wincing as he finally realised how much of a help the specially made boots from his suits actually helped.

He should've brought a crowbar.

He kicked a few more times before he cursed under his breath, looked around again and backed up a bit before running and shoving his shoulder into the door, it finally breaking open.

Thomas' face scrunched up under his face scarf as he rolled his shoulder and pushed the door back over, it wouldn't close properly after him bashing it, so he could at least buy himself a second if Michael just so happened to come back.

With a grunt, Thomas glanced around Michael's small living room, the kitchen only separated by a half wall at the far back, the stench of marijuana and alcohol lingered in the room, the face scarf around Thomas' nose and mouth barely doing anything to stop it from invading his nostrils.

Thomas didn't really have a plan, per se. He was more just making it up as he went along. He's a detailed guy, but that doesn't mean he can't be impulsive.

He assumed there wouldn't be anything worthwhile in the living room so he walked around Michael's bungalow, looking for his bedroom.

One after another, he opened the door to the bathroom, a small laundry room, and the last door down the hall to the right of the entrance, was Michael's bedroom.

Thomas opened the door with a twist of the knob, going inside and closing the door behind him, taking his phone out to use the flashlight, he was really using the most base attempts at not getting caught, but... he isn't sure himself if he might want to. It might give him an excuse to be violent. According to dream mommy and daddy, he likes that.

He searched around Michael's room, old laundry the man hadn't bothered doing was strewn across the room, and the smell from the old and relatively uncleaned carpet filled the room. And the BO from the clothes.

Thomas looked around, holding his phone up to get a clearer look around the room before his eyes landed on Michael's desk, a laptop plugged into a charger sitting atop it.

After pulling out the chair from the desk - which was clearly just a kitchen chair Michael had been using as a desk chair - he sat down, opened up the laptop and pressed the power button to turn it on, silently praying it wasn't password protected under his empty expression.

Annoyingly, it was, so Thomas racked his brain before he'd start racking through a cropper hopper for random password notes.

Now, he'd hoped the one man with what he thought was crucial information about his parents' murder was smarter than this, but he tried the obligatory answer.

Guest.

"Motherfucker..." Thomas almost groaned out as the computer unlocked. This'd better be worth all the effort.

After a glance around the laptop's desktop, Thomas opened up WhatsApp, Messenger, Outlook, anything that'd have contact with someone else. Even Microsoft Edge so he could have a look at Michael's Gmail.

He glanced at Michael's WhatsApp first since it was the first thing he opened, scrolling through his contacts. Most seemed like old friends, co-workers. Nothing in the chats seemed like anything a murderer and their friend would be talking about. Usually, Thomas had found, there's always an edge of scepticism or paranoia when a guilty party is invited out to a drink, even just in general chatting.

Not the most groundbreaking and surprising discovery, but investigating has never been Thomas' speciality. That's Tim.

--------------------------------PART ONE----------------------------------

haha u have to post now ahahaha i love you

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canidfeline · 1 month ago

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uuggghhhhh why do you have to have ACTUAL THINGS TO DOOOUUUHHHHHHHHH

why cant i just talk to you all THE TIMEEEUUUHHH

jokes aside i am very proud of you for getting rid of most distractions to do your homework, very much so

staring at ur pictures to fall asleep is making me feel more and more like a wife with her husband at war

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canidfeline · 2 months ago

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I LOVE HOPECORE

I CANT WAIT TO WRITE ZAC BEING HOPEFUL AND MAKING THOMAS OPEN UP

I LOVE HOPE!!!

WE ARE MADE OF HOPE!!

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canidfeline · 3 months ago

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retconning thomas' psychopathy to anger issues/something within that realm bc i think it'll work better down the line

im not gonna edit anything bc i cant be arsed so if you ever read back just use ur lovely little imagination

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canidfeline · 3 months ago

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Archer Queen | Physical Desc.

Short light blonde hair, think of Havok from X-Men: Days of Future Past.

Dark blue eyes.

White but with somewhat tanned skin; more similar to Zac's skin than Thomas'.

Suit: I'm thinking Hawkeye style more than Green Arrow, I'll probably find a pic from Pinterest

found one

i feel like his main colours would be more black, grey and white. imagine the arrow symbol on hawkeyes armour in the picture having a kind of white threaded outline with the inside being a dark grey, with the real suit still being black.

basically black would be the primary, dark grey the secondary, with accents being white.

also, the short-sleeved t-shirt under hawkeye's armour would instead be long-sleeved.

also he still has a black hood and a grey domino mask.

main weapons: regular bow and arrow (obviously), usually holstered on his left shoulder, his quiver usually on his right; filled with normal arrows and a smaller, separate compartment for trick arrows. He doesn't carry the boxing glove arrows even though i'd love him to, he can just unscrew the head of normal arrows. most of the trick ones would be rope ones for tightropes to cross and to climb up walls.

green arrow (in the show at least) also carries a 'pistol' crossbow (just a small crossbow) that can have both a normal crossbow mode and a grappling hook mode (like batmans grapnel gun) so he also has that holstered on his right thigh like a revolver.

personality: cocky and confident because he knows he can be. very headstrong and is usually the main one to properly argue with Thomas on things he does wrong. Can be quiet when he's pulled up about something he's done wrong. Has a bit of a fragile ego. REALLY hates jokes about being the worse Thomas.

he's extremely skilled with his long-ranged weapons, more than Thomas is by a mile and is just a bit below him skill-wise in close quarters, although almost on par.

he's also the child of Black Canary and Green Arrow, although clearly not inheriting his mother's sonic scream.

as much as him and Thomas may fight and argue, they do have a decent sort of ''ally'' relationship, more cordial and attentive in situations than real friends but there is a certain kinship

disgustingly straight

like more than thomas

the kind of guy to say ew if u asked him

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canidfeline · 4 months ago

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STONE-HEART.

Fur boots slowly padded against the snow-covered earth before coming to a halt behind a fallen log.

The boy knelt down behind the log, his breaths slow and careful as if he were doing breathing exercises. He held up his bow, resting it on the log to hold it still as he reached his other hand back to draw an arrow from his quiver.

A blacksmith needs furs for leather and as any mercenary would be, Arius was up for the job.

A 16-year-old aspiring mercenary, but still.

After a good minute of thinking and staring off into the snow below him, his fiery amber eyes snapped to an elk trudging through the snow, its hooves leaving little prints in the slush.

He shook his head to a few loose strands of his raven-black hair out of his eyes. He pushed the arrow he had in his right hand against the bow in his left, locking it in position before pulling it back with the string, aiming for its neck as it leaned down to eat from a patch of grass that wasn't fully covered by the snow.

He loosed the arrow from the string with a quiet but long exhale, biting his lip to stop a small wince from escaping him and shaking his right hand a little from the pain of the small string of the bow digging into the creases of his pointer and middle fingers.

The arrow shot into the elk's neck, the animal letting out a loud bugle before flopping into the ground on the side where Arius had shot, snapping the arrow in half which made the boy roll his eyes. He didn't really have money to spare on extra arrows, he only had about 12 left.

11 and a half now, maybe. He can work with half an arrow if he just ties a few feathers to it.

He scratched his jawline - his growing facial hair irritating the skin - as he stepped over the log to get over to the dead elk, pulling the pointy-ended half of the arrow out of its neck and plopping it back into his quiver before unsheathing a small skinning knife out of a belt loop, his hand brushing against the short fur cloak covering him from his broad shoulders to his hips.

He gripped one of the elk's antlers with his left hand to hold it still as his right stabbed the skinning knife into the elk's stomach, pushing it further left in a regular grip before grunting and switching to a reverse grip so he could have more control over the blade and skin the animal faster. He's impatient.

After about an hour or so, he'd skinned the elk fully, rolling its pelt up so it could fit into his homemade rucksack (but like a medieval rucksack) and butchering a few parts of meat to bring home to his Mother. Then, he took his knife to just below one of the elk's antlers - maybe for decoration in his room or to sell. Maybe crush up to practice alchemy with.

In ten minutes, he'd got halfway through the antler before just tutting to himself and standing up.

He definitely wasn't the only one after the coin from this little job, he wanted to be quick.

With a clearing of his throat, he stood back up and walked away from the corpse to find the road he'd been following to get here again. The wolves should get it. Or the Bosmer.

After thirty minutes or so, he arrived back at Bruma, wonderful Bruma.

He nodded with a 'smile' at one of the guards as they pushed the city gates open for him, walking inside and towards the blacksmith's shop where he'd gotten the job, rubbing his cold, calloused hands together for warmth.

With a quick glance left and right, he noted the smelter to the right of the shop before jogging up the three little steps to the wooden door and knocking before opening it.

The shop was cosy and warm, letting Arius exhale a breath he hadn't known he was holding and not having to see the fog. He thought it was a tad strange to build a blacksmith and have it mainly made out of wood. Especially with the forge and anvil being inside. Also seems like a bit of an inconvenience with the smelter OUTSIDE, but he isn't the professional here, he supposed.

Stone floors at least. To avoid floor fires, probably.

Wall and ceiling fires were still totally possible.

Why is the architecture like this?

He walked up to the shabby wooden counter, knocking on it twice.

''Second!'' The deep voice of the blacksmith shouted from behind the corner of the wall just to the right of the counter - Arius' left.

''I've got they, eh, pelts ye wanted. The ones (pronounced wahns because of the Scottish accent) you made the flyer for?"

''Eh? Awh.''

The Nord mumbled, not really that loud but Arius had some sharp ears on him.

After a few seconds, Arius could hear the man's leather boots marching closer before he appeared from around the corner. Big, brawny Hulgard.

The man's hands and lower wrists were covered in soot, Arius could see it on his boots and his apron, sweat even soaking through his shirt's armpits. He was dark-skinned and Arius could never tell if his skin was just imbued with the suit or if he was actually just darker-skinned.

''Ah, Arius. S'you.'' The smith said, his tone turning a smidge friendlier. Arius has been shopping here since he was old enough to lift a sword. And with his upbringing and nature, that wasn't that old.

And the height and genes.

''It's me, Hulgard.'' The boy huffed, pulling his rucksack off his back to unbutton the clasp to take his loot out, setting the sack on the counter.

The man opened his mouth to speak before noting the growing mutton chops on the boy's cheeks, smiling a little before speaking.

''Eh... not to burst your oh-so-eager bubble there, Ari, but I've already got the, eh... pelts.''

''Whit.''

''Aye.''

Arius sucked in his bottom lip, chewing on it and clenching his teeth. He might be overreacting already, but he spent fucking ages in the snow just waiting for an animal, any animal. HE GOT ON ELK! A MASSIVE FUCKING THING! SKINNED IT ALL!

''...who? Ye rarely actually give any o' yer jobs to real mercs to save on the coin, and Bruma's full a' kids like me, so, who?'' He asked, hands gripping his still-full rucksack that was still set on the counter

''If I tell you, are you going to fight them for the coin?'' The blacksmith asked, leaning forward and putting his hands on the edge of the counter. He sounded more exasperated than anything. It wouldn't be Arius' first time.

''Naw.''

''Ye are, ain't you.''

''I just said no! I'm honest.''

''Yer as honest as your mother and that's an extremely low bar, young Stone-Heart.''

Arius just let out a loud exhale from his nose, tilting his head and staring at Hulgard all deadpan-like.

The man huffed, hanging his head low before looking back up.

''It was Jirak.''

Fucking Jirak- OF COURSE, it was fucking Jirak, the grey-skinned bastard.

Not that Arius has anything against Dark Elves, he thought the Dunmer were an interesting and relatively cool people.

They were just usually dicks and Jirak was one of them. Isn't at all his fault he would use that phrase. No.

''YOU- JIR- GAVE IT TO-'' The boy sputtered, shaking his head every other word. He took it way more to heart than any right person should. He's a very sensitive boy, it isn't his fault.

Mummy says he's special.

''Just fuck off, Hulgard, you hook-nosed cunt.'' He huffed out sharply after regaining the ability to speak after his little episode, gripping his bag tighter and going to yank it off the table to put it back on himself.

''Och, Arius- I can still pay ye for the pelts, ya daft, young bastard. Not the same price as the job, but you can sell it.'' Hulgard sighed out, hanging his head low - again - before leaning more on the counter, folding his arms under him.

''Ah. Right ye are, aye.'' Arius mumbled, digging into his sack for a second before just turning it upside down and emptying it onto the smith's counter.

The man breathed and nodded, doing some math mentally in his head before reaching back for his coin purse, counting some coin before putting about 15 Septims on the counter.

''Not that bad, I guess.'' The boy murmured, taking the money and stuffing it into his own, less full coin purse. He nodded to Hulgard before just marching off like he was in a huff out the shop.

''By Talos, that boy.'' Hulgard tutted to himself before heading back into the back of the shop where the forge was.

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was going to be longer but considering you start college soon (which im unbelievably proud of you for) i wanted to get this out and i'll just do a part 2 later.

youtube

this is the song i was listening to so here

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canidfeline · 4 months ago

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also with me having insane writers block with DC shit and waiting on ur clones post

reyno will come back

soft rebooted btw hes getting redone the same as the clones and t+l

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canidfeline · 5 months ago

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oh my fucking god we are dating

that is genuinely insane like

a good insane though because who the fuck would I date if it wasn't you? people do usually call their partners their best friends and we've already checked that off

ive felt really weird today but not in a bad way and absolutely no fault of yours, i'd say stressed but I would have told you if I was

i think i am genuinely just that bewildered an insane amount by the fact that I'm dating you

OH MY GOD WE ARE DATING

I AM YOUR BOYFRIEND AND YOU ARE MY GIRLFRIEND

i hope this doesnt seem lovebomby that isn't my intention

i mean what i said by we go at your pace, this is all up to you. we can go back if it's what you want or we can go forward

in whatever way you need me to love you, you can have it

i have a girlfriend and its you oh my fucking god

am i domino from x-men just having the most insane fucking luck

i do genuinely just think i need to have a minute and think about this before my head explodes this is insane

if we were physically close to each other I would either beat you in excitement or squeeze your hand in excitement

edit: i made a pinterest board of you.

I was on the bathroom and I remembered like oh I have a girlfriend I'm so happy

Then I remembered its YOU and shoved my face into the towel I was holding yo like dry my hands

Ever since thinking about holding you and just being with you my bed feels so much more uncomfortable. like it doesn't feel as nice to lay in with you not there

I want you...

Also I can't make fun of you cuddling your pillow to pretend it's me anymore its the comfiest thing ever

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canidfeline · 5 months ago

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after reading the marking you gave me again

i may have overreacted

the tiniest bit

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canidfeline · 5 months ago

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i want you

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canidfeline · 5 months ago

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THE GANG ACTUALLY FINDS A HOMELESS SHELTER (maybe)

X's fingers drummed against his temple as the other three teenagers talked. He had plopped down on a trash can he had turned on its head.

The people in his head were getting louder without his mother. She made them quieter when she talked to him and let him go out into the yard. But she was bad. He shouldn't miss her. He does though.

The stench of coffee is getting to him, making him want to vomit, even on an empty stomach.

''We need food." The more gruff voice in his head spoke, making X glance over to ST-021 for a second all confused before turning back around to face the brick wall of the coffee shop as he realised what it was.

''So do they.'' It spoke again, making X turn around to his little group again. His semi-worried, semi-angry scowl became more annoyed at Forta's never-ending whining.

His brooding and borderline hallucinating was interrupted by a sudden, soft but huffy little voice echoing between the walls of the little alley the four clones were hiding in.

''Are you four the kids that stole those clothes from the store?''

Kallen's head whipped around first, then Forta's but way too far to the right, nearly bumping his head into the outer wall of the other store; a laundromat, then ST-021's, and finally X-107's.

A boy - a teenager, maybe a little older than the group was standing just in front of the alley, looking in.

They all shared a look - Forta at least trying to - before ST went to grab the blind, whiney little shit so they could all run away before the boy spoke again.

''W- I'm not gonna, like, tell on you guys or whatever.'' He said quickly, stepping forward a little bit as the group stopped in their tracks, X turning back first with a confused, worried-but-angrily little look.

''Was just gonna say, uh- there's, like, a homeless shelter. Down the, uh... road.'' The boy added, an eyebrow raising as the darkness of the alley showed off the reflectiveness of X's and ST's eyes.

Maybe it's just the angle.

X's lips pressed into a tight, straight line as he analyzed the boy, the others slowly turning. Evidently taking X's lack of attacking as confirmation that they didn't need to run. Well - Forta was still trying to run before ST tapped his shoulder and plopped him on the ground again, earning a whiney little huff from the blind boy before standing up properly next to X, towering over him and the rest of the group.

The boy looked jittery, although in an awkward kind of way. X could hear his heartbeat with how focused he was, he wasn't... scared, which was surprising to X - even with his 'limited understanding' of 'normal' people - but it was a good sign. He'd say the boy was nervous if he understood nervousness.

''I could-'' He cleared his throat as his voice cracked ''-I could take you there if that'd help.'' He swallowed after speaking, letting out a shaky little breath before his eyes flitted from X's to the ground, from the ground to ST's, to the brick wall of the laundromat, to Forta.

''W- is he, uh, blind?''

X looked to Forta, then to ST and nodded for him to speak instead of himself.

''Kind of.''

The boy's eyes - again - flitted all over the group. Already this was beginning to feel like he bit off more than he could chew.

But being nice is good, so he'll try. For, like, five more minutes.

''And can that one not talk?'' He asked, raising a slightly unsteady hand to point at X.

''No.'' ST huffed out. This guy was getting on his nerves for reasons even he didn't know. Maybe it's just the fact that X is obviously mute, why even bother asking?

Strange, though. He felt bad for feeling annoyed at the boy.

Weird.

''Uh... 'kay. Erm- c'mon, I'll take you to the homeless shelter. They have food and stuff." He said, running a hand through his light brown hair as he backed up, making a little motion of eating out of a bowl for X, even though he'd understood every other word the boy said. Then he stopped, realising how (probably) patronising it was.

X let out a grunty little ''Hmmm.'' before following the boy, the rest of the gang following suit - save for ST lagging behind to put Forta's arm around his shoulder to drag him.

''Wuh- we're moving?''

''No, dude, we're standing perfectly still.''

''...no, I can feel my feet mo-''

''YES, WE'RE MOVING!''

The back-and-forth bickering between the tallest of the group made Kallen turn around with a surprisingly narrow glare. But like tired narrow. Basically saying ''shut up'' with her eyes.

It isn't like she could blame ST much, Forta had been whining the whole week they'd been out

''He's lying. He's with Mother, he's going to get you and them killed.'' The more loud, formal and 'chanty' voice in X's head hissed, making him slap the butt of his palm against his right temple as he walked alongside the 'normal' teenager leading them, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. However, X did glare at him for a second to see if the voice's words proved true.

No, too scared looking to do anything like that. He felt like Forta except all the unnecessary whining was replaced with unnecessary stuttering.

''Can't wait to eat, mom only fed us, like, 2 weeks ago. We never shoulda been mean to the guards.'' The whinier voice in the clone's head squawked - the one that annoyed the ginger the most. It was really shrill and annoying sounding, and it always made really annoying jokes at bad times. Like saying that they ''didn't wanna turn crispy!'' when X was thrown into the oven room.

X's inner monologue(s) was thwarted by the shaky, although slowly steadying voice of the teenager leading him.

''What's up with your arms?'' He asked. His mom told him not to just ask about people's physical deformities, but sometimes curiosity trumps reason.

''Is it, like...'' He paused for a second, his gaze breaking from the pavement they were walking on to glance at X's forearms before looking up (although not by much) from them to look at the boy himself.

''...burn scars?''

He asked, pointing at X's forearms a little.

Sure, the back of X's claws were... weird, to say the least. Less serrated, more barbed and weird, but not yucky weird. Probably did more damage than just being straight, but still weird.

X brings a forearm up as he walks forward, inspecting himself, and he only has one question.

How do they at all look like burn scars?

Not that he's ever seen a burn scar per se, but he's seen a normal scar he gave a guard once and it looked nothing like it.

He dropped his arm and looked at the boy, shaking his head before raising his hand back up a little and deploying his left claw (between pointer and middle fingers).

(also ik im calling the normal one 'the boy' a lot but idk what else to call him so)

The boy's eyes widened a little before his lips turned up a little.

''Woooaah... cool.'' He murmured, leaning down a little to look at the claw before his shoe scuffed against a pebble on the pavement, making him look forward again.

''You should put that away, by the way. Might scare some people.''

X nodded, making a soft little grunt since the boy himself wasn't scared, retracting the claw back inside his arm, the blade visually shifting back into place. It relaxed him, knowing he didn't terrify everyone outside of his little group. Especially since every animal - even the ones he didn't hunt - was terrified of him when they were in the forest.

''You're like that Wolverine guy. He's cool. He's also Canadian, which makes me feel cool.''

X furrowed his brows in a confused kind of way as the other boy put his hands in his hoodie pockets, glancing back for a second as Forta's foot scuffed against the pavement, Kallen giving him a soft smile as she thought he was looking at her before he turned back to the boy.

''I don't mind mutants, by the way. I think it's cool. I really like looking up on evolution and that kinda thing anyways.''

"Oh yeah, probably shoulda asked way before, what's your name?''

X huffed softly, putting up both hands to make an X with his pointer fingers. Because even if it's a fake name, he hates the name Jack. Kallen has bad ideas.

''X? Like... Xavier or just X?''

X shook his head at Xavier and then nodded at X.

''Oh, weird. Cool, though. My name's Liam.'' He said in response before X's gaze drifted back down to his shoes to watch himself step forward.

Liam. Lee-uhm. X likes that. Those are sounds he's made before when he gets annoyed. Li, li, li, li - um, um, um. Nice noises.

''Li...um.''

Liam turned to X, an eyebrow raised the tiniest bit. ''I thought you were mute.''

X shrugged before continuing to repeat it over and over until it matched what the boy had said.

''Li... um. Li...am? Li-uhm. Li-am.''

''You got it.'' Liam responded, ''About three tries ago." He thought, but that was just mean, the guy was borderline mute and was trying his best, so he should feel bad for even thinking that.

Kallen reached over, patting X on the shoulder softly and offering a small smile when he turned to look at her. ''Well done.'' She whispered.

X nodded, his lip curling up the tiniest amount and letting out a soft huff in appreciation before turning back to face forward.

X - or rather, the gang as a whole save for the normal one leading them and the blind one, peeked, or, at least glanced into each shop/building window they passed. It was so strange to them, so foreign.

One was a place with loads of computers in it, but food too. Then there was one with lots of tables and chairs and people.

Cities are a confusing and massive sort of thing.

''Where are you guys from?'' Liam asked, breaking X from his little thinking session, the rest of the gang apart from Forta continued to inspect each passing building.

X was probably going to try his best to explain it literally, so Kallen jogged up a little to get in between X and Liam. Her red hair bounced atop her shoulders. If it could be called real hair, anyways. She had enough sense to lie.

''Just... around.''

''M'kay... don't you guys have parents?''

Kallen sucked in her bottom lip a bit, turning to X to see him staring down at the pavement they were walking on. He was unreadable, but he wasn't scowling anymore, so the question was still an open wound for him.

He misses his mother, as much as he hates and doesn't want to. As much as she hurt him and his friends, he misses her hand in his hair. The scent of her perfume. He misses kisses on the forehead after training properly, after following orders like a good little soldier, after doing whatever she asked of him. Sure, Kallen's morphed a similar kind of hair to hers, but it isn't the same.

He misses her and he hates himself for it.

''Not really,'' Kallen answered for them all, still wearing that same soft smile.

''Weird. I mean, sad, but, you know, weird. Not to be, like, a dick.''

Kallen was confused at that last thing, she didn't really know the word but she didn't show it.

''So... like... are you all mutants? 'cause X showed me his claw.''

Kallen's eyes narrowed a little, although not in an angry way or any other kind of way. Just narrowing while she thought.

Lying's probably better than not, even if he likes mutants. If they can be called that.

''No... he's the weird one.''

X grunted.

Liam let out a soft little laugh, making ST-021 glance over at him. It was a nice noise, although he isn't too sure why it got his attention.

''What are the rest of your guys' names?'' He asked, turning to Kallen the tiniest bit. He didn't like not looking where he was walking, never did.

''I'm Kallen, the blind one's Forta, and the tall one's...''

What name did they choose for him again?

Stan? Stanley? Definitely something with ST at the start. Steven? Oh, Steve, right. Steven sounds better, nevermind.

''Steven.''

''Kinda... normal compared to the rest, huh?''

''...he isn't the favourite.'' Kallen adds, thinking it's a more than reasonable response.

Liam just laughs, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn't.

(please get the joke)

He cuts off his own laugh, letting out an attention-grabbing little hum as he pointed at the building just in front of them in the middle of Edmonton.

''This is it, Hope Mission-Herb something, I think it's called. It's, like, religious, but still. Free food and beds and stuff.''

X tilted his head slightly up to check the sign.

How he hadn't noticed the lack of buildings leading up to it, he didn't even know, but it looked nice.

The cross thing on the circular window on the top left looks weird, though. He doesn't like it.

''I could go in with you guys, if you're, like, nervous or whatever.''

Kallen shrugged, turning to X for an answer before he just shrugged himself.

''Sure.'' ST muttered from behind, Forta making a(nother) whiney little grunt as ST stopped dragging him, his arm still slung around the taller boy's shoulders.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

felt like an awkward ending to me but I didn't know what else to do but if you like it idm

no blink reminders my apologies

also ik u got confused at Liam and X being referred to separately

just tell me if u wanna do part 2 or leave it to me because I'm okay with this being a part 1

things to work with: hope mission (a real homeless shelter btw!) is religious, if there are guest preachers or whatever it could establish the gangs hatred for god. vincents sexuality, also with the religion thing, could start picking up liams god part of his ego

also ive been thinking abt leaving song links somewhere in the post (top or bottom) with either a song I think matches the vibe of the post or what I was listening to while writing. if u like the idea pls tell me!

felt very weak in my own writing at some parts but eh

also so sorry for not using kallen much, idk if its just bc shes your character or just a fault of my own writing, but I struggled with utilising her properly (I think at least)

kk lyvm

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