#Reluctant Family

[bluejaysandblackbats]

silence of your song

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam, Flash Rogues

Summary: Malcolm Thawne takes in Thad after weeks of being stalked by him. (Post-Mercury Falling)

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Malcolm Thawne, Thaddeus Thawne, Bart Allen, Barry Allen

Additional Tags: Found Family, Dysfunctional, Reluctant Family, Redemption, Malcolm Thawne Wants a Family, Thaddeus Thawne and Malcolm Thawne Parallels, Canon Divergent AU, Retired Malcolm Thawne, Protective Malcolm Thawne, POV Malcolm Thawne, Childhood Memories, Malcolm Thawne Becomes Thaddeus Thawne's Dad, Adoption

Chapter One: Stray Cats

I kept the window cracked when it rained because my heater broke, and it stayed at a muggy eighty-six degrees in my fire trap of an apartment. I muted the TV and let it play, hoping it’d be on when I woke up from another nightmare. The thunder blocked out the sound of my upstairs neighbors loudly whispering while they argued, but I could hear every little noise outside my window. I could listen to every pitter-patter and drip-drop. Every rattle rattle and clang-bang. The noise was comforting. And comfort was in short supply since I was released.

I was tense, but not without reason. I’d been free for four months and in my apartment for two when I noticed a little boy trailing me. At first, I thought it was Barry’s grandson, but he had to be in his early twenties. This kid was maybe thirteen or fourteen… And blond. I had to give it to the kid. Most people wouldn’t have noticed him. He could’ve followed and taken notes for months before anyone recognized him. But I wasn’t anybody. Still, I figured he was one of them. I wanted to leave that part of my life behind and start over, but the pressure was immense with a pint-sized parole officer snooping around. That night, I didn’t see him. It was freezing outside, but inside, it was unbearable. I didn’t sleep with blankets anymore. Instead, I lay on the couch in summer clothes, having nightmares about my childhood. I woke with a jolt, clutching my chest. I leaned forward, clasping my hands around my neck, trying not to dwell on the pain. The nauseating anguish of an undeserved beating haunted me and pulled me apart, leaving me to pick up pieces of myself every night. That night, I laughed. I laughed because I was exhausted, sore, and sweaty. I would’ve spiraled, focusing only on the pain, had it not been for a strange sliver of light in the mostly dark living room. I looked toward the fire escape, feeling a strange sense of comfort. It felt like a sign that everything would be alright.

I heard a high-pitched shriek and a clanging sound like metal on metal. I stood up before realizing what I was doing and found myself standing on my fire escape in the rain, pulling the little boy up by his jacket. I pulled him up, and his legs gave. He crumpled, and I threw him over my shoulder. Thunder crackled, shaking the building, and he groaned. I couldn’t leave him outside on the metal fire escape to get electrocuted, so I took him inside. I carried him to my room and changed him into a dry sweatshirt. He stirred before raising a hand to me, and I caught his little wrist in my fist.

“Don’t call the police,” he panicked. I raised an eyebrow before laughing at him. The laugh built from a chuckle to a hollering roar once I saw the wide-eyed, slack-jawed look on his face. His face was so round and immature. He couldn’t have been Barry’s grandson. He was so small up close. His fear shifted to confusion, and my shirt slipped off his shoulder.

He shivered, and I let go of him to grab a towel. I heard him shift once I turned my back. “Sit down. I’m not gonna call the cops,” I reassured him, “Do you like tea?”

“Like sweet tea?” he asked weakly. I chuckled and shook my head.

“Stay put. You’re not in any trouble. I’ll take you home once you’re warmed up,” I replied, “And put those sweats on. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I left him alone in my room and put the tea kettle on the stove. He stumbled into the kitchen behind me, holding the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his sweatpants in his fist. “Pull the waistband as far as it goes and put it around your neck,” I explained. He did as I said, watching me with uncertain eyes. I pulled a chair over and invited him to sit near the kitchen island. The color hadn’t returned to his cheeks, and his head drooped forward. Almost dying took a lot out of the kid. I opened a bag of chips and passed it to him. “Where are your folks?”

“Don’t have any,” he answered.

Despite the fatigue, his eyes kept steady contact with mine. He wasn’t lying. “Where do you live?” I asked. He didn’t answer. I had hundreds of questions for the kid, but they weren’t my priority. “How old are you supposed to be?”

“I’m supposed to be fourteen,” he answered.

The kettle whistled, and I turned my back. “It’s late for a kid your age to be out peeping in windows,” I teased, “I should’ve known you didn’t have anybody to go home to… Or they’re not paying enough attention. I get the feeling you have folks, but you don’t wanna go home to them. I recognize your face. You look a lot like Barry’s-.” I turned to give him his tea and smiled at him. He lay fast asleep over the counter, breathing hard, almost snoring. I set the cup on the other side of the counter and carried him to bed.

My questions could wait until the morning. I draped blankets over the kid, and he rolled onto his stomach. “Sleep tight, little guy,” I whispered. I returned to the kitchen, drank his tea, and slept on my couch. The pitter-patter and drip-drops, the crackles and booms, and the noise of my neighbors and the fire escape faded away. I slept through the night feeling something I’d never felt before. Comfort.

*

I caught the boy trying to sneak out in the morning and grabbed the back of his sweatshirt before picking him up and holding him at arm’s length like a baby. He struggled and scratched, lashing out like a feral cat, but he didn’t scream. He didn’t make much noise. Not at all. “Hey… Hey, I’m gonna put you down, but you’ve gotta calm down and let me help you. I need to know why you’ve been following me. I’m not gonna hurt you,” I reassured him. He stopped fighting, and I set him down, straightening his sweatshirt.

He wrung his little scarred fists. “I wanted to meet the person who-. You’re the reason I’m here… And I want to know why,” his little voice broke. I nodded, but I didn’t understand. “You thought I was Bart.”

“You’re smaller than him… He looked like that the last time I saw him, but he should be older now,” I whispered, “Who are you?”

“I’m a clone… Of Bart... I was supposed to finish what you started. I was supposed to kill the Allens, and I failed,” he answered, “And you quit! Why didn’t you do it yourself? Why is all the pressure on me? I shouldn’t even-!” I shushed him. “I shouldn’t even be here. I’m alone because of you. I exist because of you. It’s all your fault that I have no one.” He whispered the last part.

I sat on the arm of the couch and listened to the kid while he explained what he was and where he came from. “Hey… Okay… That’s a lot. You’re fourteen... Right? Let-. Let me help you. I want to help, okay?” I asked. I felt awful “Why would you wanna help me?” he snapped.

My hands shook as I heard the question. The kid might’ve looked like Barry’s grandson, but he sounded like me when I was his age. “You’re a little weirdo. I was a little weirdo, too. An oddball. I was an oddball as a kid,” I tripped over my words. “You can stay here until you let me take you home.”

“I don’t need-.”

“You need a legal guardian. You need a family, and I don’t have one-.”

“You don’t understand. I hate you,” the kid interrupted.

“Hate me all you want, but you’re fourteen with no family. I want you to stay put. You can’t be homeless. I can’t let you be homeless… Okay? I need you to falsify some documents saying you’re my kid and that your mom is missing or something-.”

“Why?” he questioned.

“Because I’ll be able to explain why you’re here when my neighbors see you… And I don’t have money to take care of you, but I can take care of you-. I need to be able-. I want to help you. My job takes care of me, but I’ve gotta take care of you because I owe you,” I stammered. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. “No argument?”

“I don’t feel well,” he replied. I smiled and rustled a hand through his thick blond curls. He swatted my hand away.

“Sorry… Hey, what’s your name?” I asked.

“I’m named Thaddeus Thawne after the president-.”

“President?” I asked.

“Yeah, but he’s-. Well, I-. It’s hard to explain,” Thaddeus replied. It was a big name for such a small kid.

“What do you like to be called? People tried to call me Mack when I was a kid, and I didn’t let it stick because I preferred Malcolm. After all, the people that called me Mack were never friendly enough to me to be that familiar with me,” I explained.

“Thad is fine,” he answered.

I felt sick in the pit of my stomach looking at him. I couldn’t blame him for hating me. He was under immense pressure to finish what I started. I still couldn’t help but see myself in him. His loneliness. His anger. His longing. I figured I could fix things by being the person I needed when I was his age. So it began. Two Thawnes. Blood Allens.

[maskerat]

hug.

[soup-of-the-daisies]

time travelling harry being slightly fond of orion black because he looks and sounds so much like sirius, but soon realising he’s actually unbearingly and unbelievably fond of orion himself… orion being baffled, suspicious and quite flattered that someone likes him for him, not just for his last name or status as heir, and promptly deciding he’d die for harry… tom seething with jealousy watching them hang out and being generally attached the hip, knowing he can’t kill orion because 1) harry would NEVER forgive him or talk to him again, and 2) it’d be a shame to alienate the ancient and most noble house of black by getting rid of their heir

[spacedace]

Had a thought about the Reluctant War and made myself a bit sad and I have no idea if it'll make it into the story proper so I'm going to inflict it upon all you guys:

Dick Grayson on the streets of Gotham trying to do everything he can to help as everyone join the ghosts in fighting the GIW, suddenly has a version of the GAV barreling down towards him and for some reason he can't get out of the way in time.

He thinks he's about to join the army of the dead in a whole new way, when the tank fo a vehicle is suddenly sent flying as something massive charged it from the side. He hears a familiar bellowing and then realizes that it's Zitka, a ghost after passing away peacefully a few years before.

She wasn't apart of the army of the ghosts, wasn't brought in to fight. She's just been following her tiny human child around all these years and now that there's enough ecto in the air to do so, she's going to protect him with all her might.

Dick is emotional, so thankful to have his old friend back, but the city is still in a state of chaos. He gets onto Zitka's back and they get to work, running - flying - around helping to grab the injured and whisk them away to safety or take out other GAVs and the like.

It's absurd and freeing and wonderful all at once to be literally flying through the skies of Gotham on the ghost of his elephant best friend, and if Dick wasn't already on the side of King Phantom he is *now* and -

He gets shot off Zitka's back.

A GIW agent was aiming for the Ghost elephant but somehow *missed* and hit Dick instead. Not enough to injure him too badly, but enough to send him flying off Zitka's back and plummeting to the ground. His grapple is broken, and Zitka is diving for him but she's being shot at and she's not going to make it in time and -

A hand, reaching out to him in midair, familiar with its callouses and strong grip as he reaches out and grasps it, body suddenly swinging in a different direction and muscles acting on memory as he falls into the old, achingly familiar routine of his childhood. His mother, ethereal and bright as she smiles down at him, hanging upside down from a bar suspended from nothing but open sky as they swing and he is let go, flipping on instinct and caught by the steady strong hands of his father.

The Flying Graysons reunited in the skies above Gotham, Dick's ghostly parents determined to ensure their little bird never falls the way they did.

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Chat, I regret to inform you that I have added a new hyperfixation…so…

Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Alice: Hold the fuck up.

Also Alice, crawling into Lilia’s lap: It’s me. I’m the fuck up. Hold me.

Rio: I have an idea!

Jen: No murder.

Rio, sighing petulantly: I no longer have an idea.

Lilia: I have a bad feeling about this…

Agatha: What do you mean?

Alice: Don’t you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?

Agatha: No.

Jen: That actually explains so much.

Lilia: As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this little voice in my head telling me to “live it up today, because there’s not gonna be a lot of tomorrows”.

Agatha: You do realize there’s medication designed to get rid of those kinds of voices, right?

Teen: A bird flew in through my window and I’m trying to befriend it.

*later*

Agatha: Why don’t you quit bothering me and go talk to your bird friend?

Teen: Matthew and I are not speaking at the moment.

*the coven, huddling together behind a makeshift shelter to shield themselves from repeated gunshots*

Alice, hastily shoving the others behind her so she can return fire: Agatha, do you have any idea who would want to shoot you?!

Agatha, squashed between Jen and Rio: Many people want to shoot me. I take great pride in that!

Jen, glaring at the group as she hands over bail money:

Alice, tapping her shoulder: What about Teen?

Jen, glaring more: I’ve got to bail him out too? Where’s Agatha?

Teen: No one called her. We used Lilia’s phone call to call Alice and Rio’s to call you. Then Rio used my phone call to vote for American Idol.

Rio: :)

Jen: Rio isn’t answering her phone.

Agatha: Here, I’ll try.

Jen: Alice and I have tried six times each, what makes you think that-

Rio, picking up on the first ring: Hey, sweetheart.

Agatha: The ends always justify the means!

Jen: Do you know who said that?

Agatha: Was it Oprah or someone nice and great like that?

Jen: It was Machiavelli. A decidedly non-Oprah like person.

Jen: I bet you didn’t even finish the thing I asked you to get done!

Agatha: For your information, I most certainly did! Got it done last night!

Teen, whispering to Agatha: You didn’t get it done, did you?

Agatha, whispering back: I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

Lilia: I am at a loss for words!

Teen, glancing at the camera like his mom like he’s on The Office: Despite being lost for words, Lilia yelled at us for the next 45 minutes.

Agatha, carrying Señor Scratchy out of the room:

Señor Scratchy: *snuggles under her chin*

Agatha, kissing his head: You are being punished. Please stop being adorable. I love you.

Teen: I got a trampoline tent for summer sleepovers!

Jen, whispering to the other adult witches: …think of all the sex.

Alice: There are two types of people.

Rio: If you wanted to eat someone, you could put a fire under it and slowly roast them :)

Lilia: …three. Three types of people.

Jen, cautiously: I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before, but…Teen, you are a little crazy.

Teen: Aren’t we all a little crazy here, Jen?

Jen: No, I mean you’re aging-ballerina, child-chess-prodigy, professional magician kind of crazy.

Teen: It’s my mom’s fault. You know, we come from a Jewish family, but she used to tell me the reason Santa didn’t come was because my room was too dirty.

Rio: I’ve come looking for trouble. And if I can’t find trouble, I WILL create some.

Alice: Do you trust me?

Lilia, smiling proudly at her: Yes.

Alice, who has been completely panicking: Wait, what? Why?!

Agatha, awkwardly glancing around for help: Er…Alice, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to people who are crying. So I’m just gonna hope that the tone of my voice makes you think I do, okay, sweetie?

Alice, sniffling: …thanks, Agatha.

Agatha, patting her on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm: No problem, kid.

Lilia: I told Agatha about it weeks ago!

Teen: She WHAT?

Agatha: What??? Lilia says insane shit all the time, how was I supposed to know this one was true?!

Lilia: Bank accounts are a sham created by the shadow government!

Agatha: SEE?!

BONUS:

Wanda, watching from the afterlife: so…when exactly do kids grow out of that whole emo, rebellious stage?

Lorna, shrugging: I don’t know. Alice is still in it.

[srnk1]

the original painting has nothing in common with this show but whatever . this image just appeared in my mind i couldnt control myself

[qoldenskies]

is there a timeline for when raph leo and mikey check up on donnie in the closet before letting him out after those four days

no but wouldnt it be fucked up if leo and mikey went to taunt him about the birthday thing on the day of

[mxtxfanatic]

Why is it that the western fandom doesn't get that Lan Jingyi doesn't like Jiang Cheng? The boy does nothing but antagonize him every chance he has and is clearly a Hanguang-jun fanboy at heart (and Lan Wangji also dislikes Jiang Cheng, so even more reason for Jingyi to dislike him if being a bad person wasn't enough). Worst of all, the ones that ship him with Lan Xichen try to frame Lan Jingyi as their son, like why? If anyone where to adopt him (if something where to happen to his current parental figure, whoever that is) it would be Wangxian (he is also their duckling at heart), if he wasn't a Lan who is always around Lan Wangji whenever Jiang Cheng is also around I am sure he would wip the poor boy 😭.

Idk, I feel like Lan Jingyi’s character got the bad end of the stick from early fandom days when people started to rehabilitate Jiang Cheng’s image and needed a convenient Lan mouthpiece to mirror what Lan Sizhui is to the story. Lan Jingyi is to jc stans what Lan Xichen is to jc stans: a Lan counterpart to challenge the ones that canonically love and are dedicated to Wei Wuxian. There’s also a small corner of yunmeng bro stans who are convinced that Lan Jingyi and Jiang Cheng “must” actually get along because there’s this pervasive idea in greater fandom that Lan Jingyi is just a Lan version of Wei Wuxian (they are literally nothing alike outside of being good people and obsessing over Hanguang-jun), and since Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are on the fritz, Lan Jingyi can be a nice replacement toy for Jiang Cheng while keeping them all trapped in the same orbit since Wei Wuxian marries into the Lan Clan.

But at least now stans have moved on to “ljy is jc’s fan/son” instead of in early fandom where they had 30yo Jiang Cheng creeping on 15yo Lan Jingyi and this was meant to be taken as a serious, non-toxic, not grooming ship.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

silence of your song

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam, Flash Rogues

Summary: Malcolm Thawne takes in Thad after weeks of being stalked by him. (Post-Mercury Falling)

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Malcolm Thawne, Thaddeus Thawne, Bart Allen, Barry Allen

Additional Tags: Found Family, Dysfunctional, Reluctant Family, Redemption, Malcolm Thawne Wants a Family, Thaddeus Thawne and Malcolm Thawne Parallels, Canon Divergent AU, Retired Malcolm Thawne, Protective Malcolm Thawne, POV Malcolm Thawne, Childhood Memories, Malcolm Thawne Becomes Thaddeus Thawne's Dad, Adoption

Chapter Two: I'm Just an Old Chunk of Coal (But I'm Gonna Be a Diamond Someday)

After he got all our paperwork in order, I took a chunk of my emergency cash to take him to the mall. It was like pulling teeth. He didn’t want to spend my money, and I had to force him to get clothes and shoes. “Thad, please. You’d make this one hundred times easier if you’d tell me what you like,” I whispered. Thad shrugged. “Please. Aren’t you hungry?”

“That’s why we haven’t eaten yet?” Thad asked. I nodded.

“I’ll feed you whatever you want once you get some school clothes,” I explained.

Thad sighed and walked through the store, pulling items from the racks and counters. At the first store, he found a pair of overalls, two pairs of pants, and a handful of t-shirts on sale. We went to two or three stores before I got him something to eat. We got chicken sandwiches and french fries. I watched Thad swing his feet while sipping soda in the outdoor dining area. Without thinking, I messed up his hair. “Want another soda?” I asked. He blinked hard.

“No, thank you,” Thad whispered. As he fixed his hair, I thought he should change clothes.

“Hey, after we eat, I want you to change into some of your new clothes. Then, we can go and get you signed up at Hoover,” I explained. He nodded. “Are you still hungry?”

“No, thank you… Malcolm—. Dad,” Thad whispered. I could hear his disdain for me in his voice.

*

I wanted him to like me more than anything. We were fundamentally the same, so I saw no point in hating each other. I liked him despite his feelings for me because it felt like he was mine. Thad was what I needed most. He was my family.

We arrived at the high school at noon, and I sat at the table with the principal and counselor while Thad looked through the course catalog. I leaned over to look at the catalog with him and scratched my head. “Er… Uh—. What’s that? What’s HSBP?” I asked.

“Health Science and Biomedical Program. It’s open to students in advanced science placements who want a future in the medical field,” the principal answered. I nodded.

“Hey, Thad… What do you think about that, Sport?” I questioned. I reached for him, and he flinched away. “Sorry, I forgot.”

The counselor squinted at me. “Oh no, it’s nothing serious—.”

“I don’t like to be touched while I’m reading… I love my father very much,” Thad explained without looking up from the catalog. “And mhm… I think that’d be interesting. They didn’t have that program at my old school.”

He filled out the class sign-up sheet while I finished signing his enrollment forms. “Dad? What time do you have to be at work?” Thad asked.

“Eight,” I replied.

“If I took zero period, it’d give you enough time to drop me off before you go to work,” Thad replied, “Or I could take the bus—.”

“I don’t want you at the bus stop that early by yourself. I’ll take you,” I whispered.

“I can walk—.”

“I know you can, but it’s not safe for a kid your age to be outside walking before the sun’s out… And you don’t know anybody here,” I interrupted. Thad nodded. “And yeah, you can sign up for zero if that’s what you want to do.”

Thad finished his course sheet and gave it to me to sign. The counselor asked to speak to me in his office while the principal talked to Thad. “I noticed a few things, and I wanted to speak to you about Thad’s behavior—.”

“Oh, he’s not—. He’s not a troublemaker… And if you’re talking about our moment earlier, Thad’s a weird little guy. All geniuses are a little strange. I think it’s endearing that he’s got something different going on in his head,” I replied.

“Have you ever considered having him screened for—?”

I turned to see if Thad was okay by himself, and I scratched my head. “Okay… Um, sorry. So, do you think that he’s a little different? Like people aren’t gonna understand him?” I questioned. She cocked her head and chewed her lip.

“No… I um—. It isn’t about how other people feel. It’s about how Thad feels about himself and navigates his life,” she replied as she wrote the word on a notecard and the diagnosis steps.

“Okay, I’ll look into that as soon as I get some food in him,” I replied as I stared at the card. “They’re not gonna make him feel bad about himself, are they? He doesn’t need that. He’s got this horrible notion that everybody hates him. I don’t want him to feel that way. I’m working with him on his—. I’m new at this. I just—. I found out about him recently, and I like him. To me, he’s spectacular. Every parent thinks their kid is the most interesting alive, but I know Thad’s not like anyone I’ve ever known. He came around at the right time. I’ve never been happier, but I don’t—. I don’t think he likes me.”

She smiled. “It sounds like you’ve adjusted quickly to Thad,” she whispered.

The principal brought Thad to me, and we bought his P.E. uniform before heading home. I started humming a song. “What’s that?” Thad questioned.

“It’s a John Anderson song… I’ve got his CD at home if you wanna hear it. It’s um—. Nobody liked me as a kid, so I was always down on myself. Then, I listened to this song a year ago and figured I could become the kind of person I’d like to be friends with, and my life would improve because I’d like myself even if no one else did,” I explained.

“A song did all that?” Thad questioned.

“Music can be a powerful thing, Thad. Your counselor thinks you’re a little different from other kids. I agree with her,” I replied. He looked down at his shoes. “Hey, don’t do that. Different is a good thing to be. You shouldn’t ever fit in. If you’re gonna be somebody, you’ve gotta be unique. You can’t go around living in other people’s shadows… Chin up. You should be that lucky to be different.”

Thad looked away from me as he reached for my hand. I took his hand in mine. I could barely conceal my smile. “Is hating the Allens wrong?” Thad questioned.

I stopped in my tracks. “Thad, I’m not gonna pretend I’m better than what I know. I resented them, but it wasn’t their fault my life turned out the way it did. They probably would’ve loved me had I been brave enough to make myself known. Barry’s not guilty of anything but being born luckier than me,” I explained, “But then again… Look at what he’s lost. Maybe I’m lucky because I never had anything to lose.”

Thad stared at me for a long while before squeezing my hand. We walked to the old beat-up car I had and drove home. He didn’t say anything the whole ride home. I popped the CD in. And I swear I caught him tapping his foot.

[thelibrarian1895]

Flying Bats

It may take awhile and a lot of bonding and a LOT of work but Dick Grayson absolutely 100% teaches all of his siblings, and sibling adjacent, the various acts he and his parents once performed. It takes them so, so, so much practice and there are definitely broken bones and some torn muscles but each and every one of the Bats eventually manages to master the Grayson signature quadruple somersault and Dick knows he's not the only Flying Grayson in the world anymore. They can't fly as naturally or as well, but he's not alone, his family flies with him.

[thefemmefatalexo]

Gojo SMAU - The Art of Falling Fake

Introduction

Summary: The campus buzzes with life, but you feel like a shadow slipping through the cracks—unnoticed, unimportant. At home, it’s no better. Your parents dote on your step-sister, the star tennis player, while you’re the afterthought they barely acknowledge. She’s here too, her perfect reputation casting an even bigger shadow over your existence. College was supposed to be your escape, but living at home and walking the same halls as her makes it impossible. Then he shows up—Satoru Gojo, the rich, arrogant engineering major everyone seems to worship. His smug grin and effortless charm are the kind of things you can’t stand, but when a ridiculous twist of fate forces your lives together, you find yourself fake dating the most insufferable man you’ve ever met. It’s just a deal, temporary and harmless—or so you try to convince yourself.

tropes: Fake Dating, Opposites Attract, Hurt Comfort, Reluctant Allies, Found Family, Slow Burn Romance

an: I hereby welcome you to my third SMAU in this Universe! (Yay?). I hinted at this one in Chapter 14 of Toji’s SMAU if any of you noticed hehe. I really hope you enjoy this story because I’ve had so much fun writing it so far LMAOOOO. Let me know what you think! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{next}

taglist: OPEN!

Main Cast:

[srslylini]

arcane subverting the trope of tired of life man (or something similar) finds abandoned little girl and has to step up to become a father into that but with a woman FINALLY stepping up to becoming a mother figure to a girl

hello??? I've begged for times like this

plus, it's not only that but Sevikas and Jinx's build up together was hard earned. I should've seen it coming with how they made Sevika reluctantly dislike Jinx to this now

welp I didn't see it coming making it all the sweeter

[enhaflixer]

sjy - Chasing Ghosts - TEASER

a Criminal!Jake x Detective!Reader SEXY crime thriller

NOW POSTED HEREEEE!

🔹 SYNOPSIS: You spent years chasing Specter, the most elusive criminal the force has ever encountered. But every near miss, every failed case, every lead that went cold—it was never just bad luck. It was orchestrated. Because the real traitor wasn’t the man you were hunting. It was the one standing right beside you. 

🔹 WC: ~14.7K (full-length fic, completed)

🔹 TAGS: crime thriller, enemies to reluctant allies to lovers, morally gray!Jake, found family, betrayal & redemption, slow burn to inferno, high stakes, forced proximity, heavy angst with a soft landing, house on the hill trope, HEA, High stakes

🔹 RELEASE DATE: WHNV YALL WANT AYYYYYY

🔹 WARNINGS: violence, corruption, deception, heavy themes of betrayal & loss, morally ambiguous decisions, explicit language, slow descent into trust issues hell, eventual comfort but only after suffering, guns, sexual content MDNI, f! receiving.

🔹 TAGLIST: OPEN!

-

⏳ Somewhere in the city, a chase was already in motion. But here, it was just the two of you—waiting for who would make the first move.

The lounge was dimly lit, the golden glow from the overhead chandeliers casting deep shadows against the walls. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and expensive perfume, a low hum of conversation filling the space as people slipped into quiet corners, murmuring over half-finished drinks.

But none of that mattered.

Because across the room, he was watching you.

Jake sat casually at the bar, one arm draped along the back of the leather stool, a glass of something dark and amber in front of him. He looked too at ease, the kind of effortless calm that came with knowing exactly how much control you had over a situation.

And right now?

He had all of it.

Your fingers curled around your own glass, untouched. You weren’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t part of the mission. You should have already been gone, moving onto the next lead, following the trail of evidence that was supposed to bring you closer to Specter.

But for some reason, you weren’t leaving.

For some reason, you were still here.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Jake’s lips, and before you could second-guess yourself, he lifted his glass in a silent toast.

Cocky bastard.

Your grip tightened slightly. You had been chasing him for so long that it was unnatural to see him like this. Not a shadow slipping through alleyways, not a whisper at the scene of a crime.

Here, he wasn’t a ghost.

Here, he was just a man.

And that was dangerous.

Jake tilted his head slightly, an unspoken challenge lingering in his gaze. You’re already here. You might as well come say hello.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up, legs carrying you across the lounge with a steady confidence that didn’t match the pulse pounding in your throat. Every step felt deliberate, like walking across a tightrope with no safety net beneath you.

By the time you reached him, Jake was already setting his drink down, his smirk widening just slightly.

"Didn’t think you’d actually come," he mused, his voice smooth, easy—too familiar, like you had known him for years instead of knowing him as the man you were supposed to arrest.

Your nails dug into the palm of your hand. "I thought I’d see what kind of lies you’d tell me to my face."

Jake chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he reached for his glass again. "Lies? No, sweetheart." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough that it sent something sharp down your spine. "I only ever tell you the truth."

Liar.

And yet—

You stayed.

The city outside pulsed with movement, a chase still happening somewhere beneath the skyline. But here, in the quiet hum of the lounge, in the space between words neither of you were saying—

It was just the two of you.

Waiting.

Watching.

Seeing who would make the first move.

taglist: @jkslvsnella @vernorica123 @lillotus17 @wonnienyang @firstclassjayle @belle643 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @heelovesmeknott @heeseunggotrizz @jaeyunsbimbo @immelissaa @somuchdard

[simsmono]

Merry Christmas!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•❅‧ ☃️‧❆ ₊⋆⋆꙳·̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚

[fishyvamp]

Imagine a Fae!Executioner, he's not one of those Faeries to go around and catch prey with honeyed words. No, he did that long ago when the way human's lived were so simple, no the way he hunted, the way he fed, it was on guilt. To him there was no meal more tasty then the guilt of a man who's lost it all, who has nothing left to give other then the shirt on his back the life he has left to live. Imagine he's a debt Collector for the largest bookie in town. What better source of guilt then those who bet their lives away. Their money, their home, their job, it's all gone because of an addiction. He's a Fae of very little words offering his prey two choices, their life, in the literal sense, he could feast on their flesh and satisfy his own hunger or... He can own them they'd get their lives back three-fold and on an undisclosed date at undisclosed time he'd collect.

What he'd want would change with the prey, but mostly he'd take their most valuable item. Which is why he met you, living in the woods on the outskirts of town. A shelter cobbled together with logs, leaves, moss, and muds yet so heavily guarded that the Executioner could not cross the threshold without permission. Others came to find you none of them possessing the same patience as he did. His blade sinking into the ground as he settled in watching you work over a heavy iron caldron. It smelled good even if it was tainted by that nasty metal. He could feel your icy cold glare. Honestly it wasn't even your debt he was here for, it was your father's a man now dying with not much left save for his eldest child. Firstborns were valuable enough, but the firstborn of a witch?

The Entity was more than eager to collect. "What do they call you?" You gruff out pouring yourself a bowl of chunky stew. The aroma wafting around the forest. The executioner's steel frame turning to face you his body decorated in loose pelts, tree roots, and moss. You were certain that there was an even more feral face underneath. Maybe something gnarled and twisted. "You have to leave eventually." His voice echoed against the helmet.

You roll your eyes eating your stew. "I've got a garden, this pot will last me one maybe two weeks. You'll grow bored and impatient and when you do I'll collect some meat and scurry right back."

"Like a rat." He offers.

You smirk at the thought, "Yeah like a rat."

The Fae growls behind his helmet. Trying to figure out the bait that would draw you out. According to that roach of fae Ghostface he thinks that's the name on The Entity's payroll. The Fae of many faces hiding in every nook and cranny, watching every move anyone could make. He informed the large beast of a man about how you were abandoned by your mother, left in your father's care, a broken home with a drunk of man who barely taught you enough witchcraft to protect yourself from predators. Your fate predetermined before you were even grown. A child promised away to predators.

You had been on your own since your father had fallen ill, defending yourself from predators vying to collect your father's pound of flesh. The day passing on as you continued your daily rituals strengthening the wards of your homely dwelling. It was impressive to think they had been clawing at your door for the last... What was it four, five years? A blink in the eyes of the Fae, but long enough that others would starve trying to wait you out.

"You could ask for a deal." Fae!Executioner hummed finally breaking the silence on the fifth day. You look rising to your feet after crawling out of your shelter. You eye him wearily, "why I do that?" Your words coming out a scoff folding your arms.

You have every right to distrust him, every right to wish him ill will. He held your string the only thing saving you was some rather impressive haphazard sigils. The Entity stole your ancestral home, your family, your safety, and even your life. You have every reason to try and wait even him out, but what kind of life are you actually living by waiting him out. "She owes me, I can claim—"

You cut him off, "Now why would I want that? I don't want to be owned period." You hiss waving him off to go back to stirring the pot. "You'd own yourself." He mused. The vagueness of the statement made you wary, but you couldn't help but show the tiniest hint of interest. There's the catch, "I will of course own your life officially, but you'd have whatever freedom you crave. However you will have to do as I say when I ask of it."

There it is... There's the catch, you grumble to yourself. Looking the beast of a man up and down. "I'll even return your ancestral home." He rumbled voice like booming thunder. You stopped what you were doing, rising to your feet you held out your hand just outside the barrier. "Deal." You growl watching as Fae!Executioner rise to his full height the beast even taller then you realized, his hand dwarfing yours as the world around you warps and twist; legs buckling beneath you until your back in a familiar garden.

Panting heavily you fall to your hands and knees, taking a minute to breathe feeling something new and heavy in chest like an anchor weighing you down. Glowing chain of light binding you to the Fae before you. You rise shakily to your feet the Fae not even bothering to help you as he reaches the front door. You take in the rundown surroundings. The Fae monsters who had possession clearly not caring enough to upkeep. It hurt for some reason generations and generations of witches having lived here raising families and adding to the magic.

The Fae salivating to feast on the magic that lived here and yet... "She's starved," you whisper touching the banister of the veranda. The paint chipped, wood rotting. The magic that had cradled generations of your family was dying.

"fix her up, bring your family name back to glory, make you worth owning." He growled crowding into your space you could see the shimmer of his form splintering, the first time you had gotten a good look noticing the pelts on his body was his actual fur multicolored and bristling. You open the door smelling the mold and rot. The feeling almost overwhelming as you list everything that needed to be repaired. You turn back around to bark at him to leave, but he's gone. The new deal struck; your fingers subconsciously gripping the chain. You'll make sure he regrets the deal he made. You'll make every single Fae who dared to tear your family apart regret ever crossing you. You wondered if you could get ahold of that Fae hunter your dad once knew, you were always friendly with his son.

[not-equippedforthis]

why am i crying over space children. jake going against his father's orders just to teach nog how to read im bawling my eyes out. sisko being so proud of him at the end. oh my god.