#and their parents are broke so they couldn’t afford it anyway and they need them to work to support the family

[girlishwhimsies]

thinking about the economic divide in the outsiders again. sigh.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 4 - Marriage of Convenience

@wolfstarmicrofic May 4, word count 972

Sirius spotted him while out shopping for new shoes. They’d lost touch after school. He and James had gone to prestigious universities, but Remus’s parents hadn’t been able to afford them, so Remus had gone straight into working for his father.

Remus was slumped in a closed shop doorway. He had about three threadbare jumpers on and a grubby duvet tucked around his legs. He had an old fast-food cup sat in front of him and passers-by tossed coins into it. 

Sirius approached. He had to once he realised who he was. 

“Remus?” He asked. Remus slowly opened his eyes, as though it took a lot of energy. Once the recognition sunk in, his eyes began darting about, looking for an escape. He grabbed his things in his arms and lurched to his feet. “Hey, hey, calm down.” Sirius tried to calm him. He reached out to steady him as he swayed on his feet. “I have a flat down the road. Come and have a cuppa.” He wrapped his arm around his old friend and began to lead him away from the gloomy doorway. 

He put a steaming mug of tea in front of him and the tin of biscuits. He went hunting in his fridge and cupboards and made him a thick ham sandwich with a wedge of cheese and a whole bag of Doritos. “Eat as much as you want.” Sirius told him. It was only when he’d put his arm around his friend that he’d realised how skinny he was. Remus dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Which could very well be true given the state he was in. When they’d been boys Remus would easily have been able to finish the entirety of food before him. But this emaciated man could barely get the sandwich down. He dunked a couple of biscuits in his tea and that was it. “Come on Remus. I know you can eat more than that.” He goaded slightly, worry marring his face. Remus shook his head. 

“If I eat more I’ll be sick.” His voice was barely a crackle from lack of use. It broke Sirius’s heart. 

“What happened to you?” He needed to know. He couldn’t understand why Remus hadn’t come to one of them. 

“My father caught me with one of his employees in a compromising position, and he threw me out with nothing but what I managed to get on before he shoved me out of the door.”

“What, he chucked you out because you were shagging Brenda from accounting?” Sirius scoffed. Lyall had always been a hard bastard. 

“Jeremy from marketing, actually.” Remus winced as he took a sip of his tea and added more sugar. 

“Well, I refuse to let you spend one more night on that street. You’re taking my guest room and that’s that.” Sirius folded his arms and dared his friend to argue with him. Remus didn’t have the energy anyway. 

The next morning, Sirius arranged a meeting with his solicitor. Remus was still sleeping, so he left him a note. 

“I’m sorry Mr Black, but unless you are related to him or married you cannot, gift him the amount you want to.” Arthur had stuttered at him. All he wanted to do was set Remus up, so he wouldn’t have to worry. Sirius could afford it. What was a house, a car, a new wardrobe and all the bills paid for if he got to help a friend? 

“Thank you, Arthur.” He shook his hand and left. Stupid laws. But there was a way if only he could get Remus to agree.

Remus was picking at a slice of toast when he got back. He sat down opposite him and put on his serious face. “Remus, I need to ask you something, and you aren’t going to like it.” Remus’s head tilted and his brow furrowed. “I want to help you. Like properly. I want to get you a house and a car and whatever else you need. But my solicitor says I can’t just gift you that amount without you being related to me or,” He paused for a second. “Married to me.” He let the words sink in. Remus’s eyes widened in shock. 

“You—you want to marry me?!” He stuttered, dropping his toast onto his plate. 

“Don’t worry, we can still see other people.” Sirius winked at him. 

“Shut up. No. I mean why? Why would you want to do all that for me?” Sirius took pity as Remus’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. He reached across the table and took his friend's hand in his. 

“Because my family kicked me out and disinherited me when they caught me in a compromising position with Bernard from IT.” Remus’s eyes grew wider. 

“Oh,” He said. Sirius moved around the table and got down on one knee. 

“Remus Lupin, will you marry me, so I can gift you all the things I want to and know you’re safe. I don’t want anything in return and if you want a divorce down the line, I’ll sign the papers. But please know I want this because you're one of my best friends, and you mean the world to me.” He grinned a crooked smile at his friend, which turned into a full beaming smile when Remus nodded his head. 

“Okay, yes. If you’re sure.” He swallowed and added shyly. “Do I have to move into a house straight away or can I stay here for a bit?”

“You can do whatever you want, Remus, stay as long as you want and when you’re ready we can talk about what you want to do. But just know you’ll have a very nice allowance as my husband.” He added cheekily. 

They started the paper work that afternoon and were married within a month. 

[hoedamn-eron]

he found the box of condoms - part 3 (finale)

You and Leto have to deal with the aftermath of your relationship.

Warnings: Age gap, but it is appropriate/legal. Mentions of drinking but it's isn't specified to be alcohol (but it's implied). An awful lot of dialogue. Some swearing. Angsty but happy ending. I have never seen nor read Dune (yet), so there may be some inaccuracies (Duke and Paul being OOC, stuff like that), but it's Modern!AU anyway. Slightly proof-read, as per usual. Word count: 3,025 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

FINALLY, I have this posted! Not some of my best work, but I was so aware that I hadn't updated this for 4 months!

Part 2

You wished you had declined your parent’s invitation to their barbeque.

It had been a terrible week. You had started your new job, but the person you were taking over from must have left the company with spite since they left everything in such a mess, that you technically couldn’t ‘start’ your job until everything was put right again. And there was a snooty woman (Harriet, in sales) on your office floor who had already decided you weren’t worth her time, and she seemed to have her fingers stuck in a lot of pies.

You’re dating life was a joke too. You’d been on a few dates here and there, from your adventures in the worlds of Tinder, and Bumble, but nothing went past the first date. They were all either looking for different things or just general walking red flags. The only ‘successful’ dates you had had were with your neighbour, Tom, who was a really nice guy, who treated you really well, and put an effort into your dates, but you had let him down massively by being too hooked on Leto Atreides. Now you can barely look at him when you happen to pass each other in the hallway of your building.

Speaking of your living arrangements, your apartment wasn’t working out like you thought it would. When you moved in five months ago, you weren’t prepared (or warned about) the excessively noisy neighbours, and the terrible water pressure, and the fact that your apartment was just freezing constantly. You’d already been on your landlord’s case, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest, not now he’d had your security deposit and months’ worth of rent. You were on the verge of asking your parents if you could move back in until you could afford and better place.

And to top off your already terrible week, Leto was here.

You hadn’t seen him since he broke up with you six months ago, after you told your parents and Paul (who hadn’t talked to you since) of your relationship. It had been a hard time for you, obviously, practically seeing him every day since he lived next door to your parents. Of course, you didn’t expect your parents to stop talking to him, he was their friend before he was your partner (even though your dad had given him the cold shoulder for a while); but they could have given you some warning that he was going to be here.

“I’m sorry,” your mother said after pulling you aside to ‘help with the salad’, away from earshot of the other guests.

You were already shaking your head at her, giving her a tight smile. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t, but you weren’t going to tell your mother who she can and can’t have in her own house.

“Your father must’ve invited him – “

“Really, it’s fine,” you say, placing your hand on her shoulder. “I’m gonna grab a drink.”

You really needed one.

Your mother soon went back to mingling and you hung around by the kitchen door, regretting your decision to come to the barbeque more and more. Everyone just seemed so chatty and happy, and like they currently had no problems happening in their lives. These people weren’t struggling to get hot water or being shunned in work by their new co-workers.

They most certainly weren’t in the same space as their ex-partners, still hopelessly in love with them. You did feel slightly pathetic, still pining over Leto the way you were, especially when he’d made it perfectly clear that it would be in everyone’s best interests that you separated.

“We shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

You had the feeling that was what was coming when he had said ‘We need to talk’. Nothing good every came from ‘we need to talk.’ But it didn’t stop you physically feeling your heart break in two, your body suddenly feeling like it would collapse.

Leto’s shoulders slumped as he looked at you with, annoyingly, sympathy. “That came out – “

“No, it’s fine,” you breathed, lightly shaking your head. “I get it.”

But it wasn’t fine, and you didn’t get it. You didn’t understand why you two would need to end what you had, just because Paul had thrown a hissy fit. But at the end of the day, you knew – deep down - Leto would choose Paul over you any day; he was his son, his flesh and blood. They’d both been through a lot since Jessica died. Leto would want the easiest life for Paul, and this wasn’t a part of it.

“I’m sorry,” Leto whispered, looking at you with those deep brown eyes, that you always thought held the stars. “I’m so sorry. It’s just you’re young, you don’t want to be with someone like me, an old man. And Paul is…I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at him again, disagreeing with everything he was saying. You both go silent before a wobbly smile makes its way on to your face. “We can always stay friends.”

Leto stared at you for a moment before giving a single nod. “We can.”

You almost roll your eyes at the memory, trying hard to ignore the pang in your chest. You hadn’t even remotely stayed friends. You wanted far away from him as humanly possible after that night. You were pissed off for a while, blaming Paul and wanting to wring his neck, but eventually you accepted that was just how life was going to go. Sometimes things work out how you want, and sometimes they don’t.

No matter how much you had wanted it.

You take a large sip of your drink, almost coughing at the burn down your throat. You truly didn’t want to be here. Maybe you could give your parents a discreet goodbye a quietly sneak out. Surely no-one would notice, only your parents had greeted you. Leto hadn’t even noticed you were here. You take a quick glance around your parents sunroom, your eyes landing on the God of a man himself.

He always looked so effortlessly good looking. He’d grown his beard out a little and God dammit, if salt and pepper wasn’t his colour. His white polo really brought out his golden tan, evident he’d been working in his garden with the nice weather you’d had the last few weeks. He didn’t look like his life was falling apart; obviously, Leto was a perfect human being. Nothing ever went wrong with Leto Atreides.

You sigh as you finish your drink, throwing your head back and looking back at Leto, before jumping out of your skin.

He was looking right at you, an unreadable look on his face.

You avert your gaze quickly, going to take another drink before realising it was already gone. Good, an excuse to disappear and avoid Leto’s coffee brown gaze. You make your way into the kitchen, intending to raid your parents appropriately named ‘drinks fridge’ for a good five or ten minutes. You weren’t ready to face him, even 6 months of being apart. It still hurt.

Once you had refilled your drink, you turn only to nearly drop your drink in shock. Leto had followed you into the kitchen.

Oh God, you’re cornered, there was no escaping him now.

“Hey.”

Why, why, did he have to have a voice that melted you from the inside out? It wasn’t fair. And you hadn’t heard him since you moved out, it shouldn’t make you feel like this.

“Hi,” you greet back. You curse yourself as the slight wobble in your voice, but you hope he didn’t notice.

He probably did, but he won’t say anything, because he’s just that nice of a person. He’s even looking at you like he’s causing you such an inconvenience talking to you.

“How are you?”

How were you going to answer that? Would you be honest and tell him that you were the unhappiest you’d been in a while, or would you lie? You could tell him that you were living your best life, that everything was absolutely fine with you, that you hadn’t had a few unsuccessful pity dates with your neighbour across the hall, because all you could think about was the Adonis of a man stood in front of you.

You’re taking too long to answer. The call of your name causes you to blink at him with a quick, “I’m fine.”

Leto nodded, an awkward silence filling the air. You look down at the drink in your hand, swirling it around the glass, biting your lip. You wanted to leave. What were you supposed to talk about? How miserable your life was? How he’s probably living his best single life with all the people falling at his feet?

“Your mom mentioned you’d…that you’d met someone.”

You couldn’t help the snort of a laugh that came out of you. Straight to the point. You shook your head as you look back up at Leto, a confused look on his face. “I wouldn’t say mine and my neighbour’s dates were something to write home about, pretty sure we’re not going to go out again.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone?”

“No.”

“So I can take you out then?”

You freeze, looking at him with wide eyes. What did he just say? “Pardon me?”

“I’ve been…completely miserable,” he said, huffing a laugh as he shook his head. “The past six months have been rough.”

The nerve! He broke up with you. He decided to end your relationship for Paul’s feelings, which you understood, really you did, but that didn’t mean you were going to just drop everything and crawl back into his arms. He’d ignored you for six months until today. As much as you were pining for Leto when you first spotted him, you couldn’t help but feel put out and pissed off.

Unnerved by your silence, Leto cleared his throat. “I spoke to Paul – “

“That makes one of us,” you mutter.

“He’s mentioned that he misses you and wants to make things right between us all.”

“He could have reached out himself instead of making you come and speak to me,” you mutter. “It’s awkward enough as it is.”

“He didn’t make me – “ Leto huffed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m trying here.”

“I just thought that my feelings meant just as much as Paul’s do.”

Leto sighed your name, closing his eyes in frustration.

“No, I get it,” you say, nodding at him. “As long as Paul’s feelings aren’t hurt.”

Leto looked back at you. “He’s my son – “

“And as I said, I get that, but he was also my friend. And he was a prick.”

“I know, I’m sorry, but you have to understand – “

“I do.”

You both stare at each other.

After a few moments, Leto shook his head at you. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you counter. “We broke up. That was it. The relationship was evidently too much, so we decided to end it. And now you’re coming up to me, assuming you can take me out, like nothing happened?”

You knew you were being unfair. You had agreed to break it off too, but you had been having a bad week and you weren’t prepared for him to be at your parent’s house after feeling sorry for yourself. And for him to just approach you the way he did and throw his feelings back at you?

You wanted the floor to open you up and swallow you whole.

You found yourself suddenly laughing in disbelief, averting your gaze to look around the kitchen, mainly so you didn’t have to look at his heart-breaking expression, and so he didn’t see the overwhelmed tears in your eyes. “I really didn’t need this today.”

Leto didn’t say anything as you ranted to him, your stress and anger from the past few weeks coming out of you.

“Ever since we broke up, I feel like my life just fell apart. I lost Paul, and you, and my apartment that looked great on paper absolutely sucks and my landlord knows it but doesn’t bother to fix anything. My new job isn’t what I thought it would be and I have already rubbed somebody the wrong way, and I can’t seem to hold down a date with a decent guy, because all I can think about is you!”

You hadn’t realised Leto had made his way to you until he pulled you into his arms. You hadn’t realised you were crying until he was shushing you and whispering apologies in your ear, keeping you to his chest and he lightly swayed you. He was always so warm and welcoming, and always left you wanting to stay in his arms eternally.

You find yourself trapped in a wave of conflicting emotions. As the memories of the time you had spent with Leto flood back, you feel a mix of joy, pain, and longing at being held by him again, even if it was in the middle of a breakdown. Your heart feels heavy with the weight of regret, as you reminiscence on the times you had together and the things left unsaid when you broke up, how it was so sudden when you felt like your relationship had just started.

You don’t know how long you both stood embracing in the kitchen for, but you were vaguely aware of Leto waving your mother away, probably checking to see where you’d both gotten to. You heard your father call to the guests that he was going to start grilling, so you took that as your queue to get out of the kitchen. You pulled away from Leto, wiping at your eyes and avoiding looking at him.

You’d embarrassed yourself enough.

He watched you silently pull yourself back together before you finally look up at him, giving him a shaky smile. “Sorry about that.”

Leto was already shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologise. Ever.”

You take a few more deep breaths, finally calming down. “Did you mean what you said?”

Leto looked at you with a raised brow, before countering back. “Did you?”

Well, yes you did. You know you constantly think about Leto. He’s never far from your mind, you’re always wondering how he was doing since you moved out of your parent’s place, wondering if he ever got back into the dating pool, or if Paul had forgiven him (evidently, he did). Leto was the love of your life, even if you both chose to separate. And despite this, he was giving you the choice to get back together.

You eventually nod at him. “I did. I think about you all the time.”

Leto gave a small laugh of disbelief. “Then what are we both doing?”

You shook your head at him. “I don’t know. Everything was happening so fast, I didn’t…”

Leto gives you a small smile. “I understand.”

“I didn’t want us to break up. I didn’t want to be alone, without you, but you looked like you were doing so well without me and I was practically a pathetic, blubbering mess.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I’m glad you were as miserable as I am,” you say jokingly, giving a small laugh.

The change in Leto is instant. His shoulders relax, and he starts giving you that small smile that he used to give you when you were having your long talks on dates. It was the smile that warmed your insides and made you feel gooey, like a teenager going to prom with the most popular person in school.

He stuck his hand out to you. “Shall we start again? I’m Leto, it’s nice to meet you.”

You snort but humour him, grasping at his hand as you introduce yourself.

“I just noticed you across the room and I have to say, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“I remember you used to like me being cheesy.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you gave him a light shove. “We just met, Leto, I don’t know what you mean.”

Leto smiled at you. “Want me to ask you out again?”

You couldn’t help but sigh dreamily at him. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you nodded at him.

“Can I take you out sometime?”

Your breathing quickens, and you still felt like you were melting against that smile of his. This was it. This was your opportunity to be with Leto again, to be happy again. You wouldn’t need to sneak around and you could be a real life couple.

But you didn’t want to risk being hurt again. What if the same problems arose, that Paul wasn’t okay with it after a while, or your parents? Would Leto break it off again? Would he think it was too much again and end things? You were still an adult and could make decisions for yourself; something that others seemed to forget last time.

But you could handle it. You loved him, and you were sure he loved you. And you could be together again.

You nod at Leto. “Yes. I would love to go out with you.”

Leto grinned. “Are you free on Saturday?”

“I am.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven on Saturday then.”

Before you could reply, Leto leans forward, his lips meeting yours. You melt against him, your eyes closing as you revel in the familiarity of their kiss. The way his lips fit perfectly against yours after so long, like coming home after a long journey. You wrap your arms around each other tightly, deepening the kiss, savouring every moment as if you’d never been apart.

As the kiss comes to an end, you both pull away, gazing into each other's eyes, feeling the love and longing that has been building inside you for so long.

“I’ll hide the condoms better next time.”

You let out a laugh before slipping your hand into his, leading him back out to the party. You choose to ignore the smirk your parents were giving each other as you join them.

Tagged - @m0nster-fvcker, @justanotherkpopstanlol, @eonnyx, @secre-flower, @shaggzthatsnottheworm

[prfctparis]

I’d Give You My Lungs So You Can Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) [CH1]

AO3 Link / Next / Masterlist

summary:

Danny Fenton was adopted at age ten, with little to no memories about his former family. At age fourteen, he died yet lived and those memories began to return. He didn’t do anything about those memories – didn’t plan to, at least not yet – but then he got captured by the GIW, saved by his friends and someone who might be his sister who he only somewhat remembered, and taken to Gotham to, apparently, his biological father for safety until further notice.

Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.

a/n:

so i figured i’d post this here too, since there are so many dcxdp lovers on here, and in case someone has no access to ao3 somehow or just doesn’t use it…well, here you go! also i’m bored & this blog needs some action lmao. anyway, this first chapter is technically a prologue, but whatever. there are 2 more chapters i have already written (which are also on ao3), so i’ll upload them here in a day or so if anyone wants me to, and i’m gradually working on the next one. hope you guys enjoy! FYI, so no one is confused, in this athanasia is danny’s twin – not damian :)

warnings for the entire fic:

canon-typical violence of the DC variety; angst; memory loss/repressed memories; do i need to say major character death(s) or is that just a given for this fandom; questionable parenting tho every parent is trying to do good & care for the kids; implied/referenced past child abuse bc of the child assassin backgrounds; pls tell me if i missed something

CHAPTER ONE —

[italicized conversations are implied to be spoken in arabic]

At age ten, he didn’t remember much of anything.

He woke up at the edge of some woods, in dirty and dark clothes that, for some reason, made his mind go Assassin. His head was fuzzy, and the left side of both his chest and back hurt, and there were streaks of dark brown-ish red on his hands that flaked off when he scratched at them.

Eventually, he got up. The sun was rising, and he needed to figure out where he was. So, he walked. He walked, and walked, and when he made into a town, he kept on walking. The sign read ‘Amity Park’ in English.

…That unnerved him. Usually he didn’t read things in English. Right? They were in another language, letters and words read from right to left rather than left to right. Arabic, his mind supplied.

Why was everything in English? he thought, a little hysterical, and then tensed, eyes roaming around as if someone might have heard him – might have had a sixth sense to sniff out fear.

He wasn’t allowed to be afraid, or panic. He couldn’t afford to. He couldn’t. Because…

Because of what?

“Excuse me?” A young voice broke his thoughts.

He spun around and saw a girl with red hair and blue headband with a backpack on her shoulders. She was older than him by a few years…maybe.

(He was ten. How he knew that, he didn’t know, but he was ten.)

“Are you lost?”

Face careful not to show any emotion, he glanced around. The roads were beginning to get busy. People were walking out of buildings, and into other ones.

The girl just smiled – nothing that made him want to bolt, or fight to get away, or freeze in fear. It was…kind. “It’s okay if you are, I can help you. I’m Jasmine,” she said. “But most people just call me Jazz; it’s a nickname. Can you tell me yours?” She knelt down. Some of the nerves dissipated at the action; no longer was she standing over him.

For a moment, he continued to eye her suspiciously. Then, he looked away with furrowed brows as he tried to think. His name… It started with a ‘D’.

“…Danny,” he spoke, voice quiet but rough, after a few more seconds, and looked back at her. He didn’t know much of anything right now, but he did know someone used to call him that. It was short for something. “My nickname is Danny.”

Jasmine – or Jazz – smiled again. “That must be short for Daniel,” she said.

No… Yes? He didn’t know. It didn’t feel right, but not really wrong, either. So, he shrugged.

“Well, Danny,” Jazz began, “can you answer my first question? Are you lost? It’s okay if you can’t, but I still want to help you.”

“I…think so,” he spoke slowly. And, much to his embarrassment, his throat started to tighten with panic. “The sign said Amity Park. But I do not– I do not know where that is.”

“Yeah. You’re in Amity Park, Illinois.” Then, belatedly, “In America.” Her brows pulled together. “Do you- Do you know how you got here?”

He started to shake his head slowly, but the panic and fear had reached their peaks. The movement became rapid, and tears made his eyes sting. “I do– I do not know, I–.” His breath stuttering cut his words off, but the action moved his wounds on his chest and back and he winced, pressing a hand to the one near his heart. “I do not know how, or what happened to– to me, and it hurts.”

Jazz’s eyes widened. “Okay. Okay, it’s okay – I’ll help you. Will you let me?”

Something in him told him to say no. To run. This girl wasn’t trustworthy; she could be dangerous.

But he was scared. Terrified. (Why didn’t he know anything?) So he ignored that first instinct with a shaky nod as tears ran down his cheeks.

And Jazz helped him.

Jazz ended up becoming his sister. His older sister. That adjective to describe her was important to him, for some reason. Adoptive less so. She was his sister – adoptive or not – that was who she was; but she was older.

Maddie and Jack – who, eventually, became Mom and Dad to him, and who, as absent as they were, really did love both him and Jazz – asked once if Danny had a little sister, one day after he had explained that to them offhandedly.

Danny thought. He tried to remember.

“…No,” he answered. Because as far as he knew, he didn’t.

But also because saying, I don’t know, was getting exhausting. He’s only been with them a few months.

He grew to hate not knowing things.

(Jazz said it was anxiety, or potentially paranoia, but also maybe PTSD. Danny thought she was just being a know-it-all with her new found love of psychology.)

Some days it felt like he was missing something. Not just his memories, but something that was a part of him. Another person, or two.

Maddie and Jack would say something odd, or confusing, and he would turn to look at someone who wasn’t there to silently question and/or judge them.

At age fourteen, Danny, on a dare, did something very, very stupid.

He died, but also didn’t.

He accidentally got his parents’ ghost machine to work and now ghosts caused chaos in town.

He became Phantom – a halfa; someone who was dead, but also alive – and became the town’s vigilante, of sorts.

He…began to remember.

This wasn’t the first time he died but lived.

Sam and Tucker, his two best friends, were there at the accident, so they knew from the get-go. He told Jasmine, not too long after, mostly because she suspected something and he was shit at lying to her, but he told her. Mom and Dad, avid ghost hunters, were kept in the dark about it.

For a while, no one knew he was starting to get his memories back. After all, how was he supposed to explain that he was a former child assassin?

But then he had a nightmare-esque memory of being a child with a katana in his hands, a girl his age close by, and a toddler between them. Someone barked orders in Arabic.

He was forced to kill.

(Not the girl, nor the toddler. But someone. Someone who didn’t deserve it.)

Danny woke up having a panic attack, with Jazz hovering over him. After some tears, calming down, and spending the following two hours sitting in silence on his bed with his older sister, he finally told her.

There were more tears.

Jazz just held her little brother tightly.

Sam once brought up that he fought like someone who was used to somebody being beside him.

He feigned confusion and chuckled. “What?”

“When you fight, you leave blind spots open,” she explained further. “Like you’re relying on someone who isn’t there.”

Tucker nodded. “She’s right. I noticed, too.”

Danny shrugged. “That’s just how I fight,” he said. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

What he didn’t say, was that he now had a fuzzy memory of fighting with someone – that girl his age from his memories. But it wasn’t necessarily fighting as it was training, and it wasn’t always with one another but also against each other.

Sam hummed. “Okay, Danny.”

Dan happened.

Danny didn’t want to become Dan.

He began having nightmares of an old man dressed in green radiating pride because of him – because he was Dan.

It made him sick.

Vlad Masters – also known as Plasmius, also also known as a pain in Danny’s ass – cloned him.

He now had a little sister. Ellie. Vlad named her Danielle, and she at first went by Dani, but that got too confusing, so. Ellie, she became.

She roamed around the world after the whole situation with Vlad got handled, and Danny let her. But they kept in touch, and she often told him where she was headed, or where she was resting, or how long until she might come back.

Sometimes when she stopped by, when they were hanging out, something about her jogged fuzzy memories of a little brother. But then sometimes the way she fought with him against Vlad and ghosts brought up vague snippets of another sister.

At age fifteen, he defeated Pariah Dark. Enough said.

He also told Mom and Dad about the ghost thing. And the assassin kid thing. They took it well, considering.

He no longer had to worry about vivisection by his parents, or about being kicked about because he killed someone as a child and they were now scared of him, or something.

They still loved him. He loved them.

Memories about his childhood were still sparse, though they were gradually coming back.

(Some good. Most bad. Danny woke up from nightmares far too many times, nowadays.)

“Are you… Are going to want to find them? Your family, I mean,” Dad asked, late one night when Mom was asleep and Jazz was studying and Danny decided to bother him instead of his older sister when he came home with a large gash on his arm from Skulker.

It was random, but he still answered. “Um, maybe eventually. My younger siblings, at least. I don’t know their names, or even if…”

“Well, when you decide to, I’ll help out in any way,” he said.

He smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

Dad smiled, gently ruffled his hair, and then pulled him into a near-crushing hug. “Of course, Dan-o.”

At age seventeen, the GIW barged into Amity.

It didn’t go well.

They caught him.

He didn’t get out until after he turned eighteen.

+++

At age ten, Athanasia watched her grandfather run a sword through her twin brother’s chest from the shadows.

She stood there, numb and in shock. A voice in her head screamed at her that, if someone were to attack right now, she would also die. She couldn’t help but not care when her twin brother was bleeding out before her eyes.

And unless she wanted to face Grandfather’s wrath as well, she couldn’t do anything about it.

Grandfather, with a casual swipe to clean his sword, turned away. “Clean this up,” he ordered the servants. He flicked his wrist to Dányál. “Rid of the body. It is time I speak with Talia.”

The servants obeyed. A couple began to clean. One picked up Dányál and began to leave, staunching the blood with cloths as to not leave a trail. On quiet feet, Athanasia followed.

Suspicion and confusion addled her brain when she realized the servant was going to one of the Pits. Her footsteps became more determined, but no less quiet.

She followed them to the Pit. Watched how the servant dunked him into it until the wound was no longer life threatening. Then followed them to one of the many hidden exits. Watched as the servant left with her twin brother for good.

Her other half was gone. Something in her shattered.

Athanasia now had a burning hatred for Ra’s al Ghul.

Life in the League was different now, without her twin. Too different.

She wanted out, but couldn’t leave Damian.

Not yet, anyway.

At age eleven, she met Jason Todd. Sort of.

He was catatonic, most of the first year, but still a good fighter. She was mostly indifferent to him, the adoptive son of her biological father.

(Mother didn’t know she knew about that, about Bruce Wayne – the Batman – being her, Dányál’s, and Damian’s father. But there were so many times she would overhear Ra’s complain about the man and Mother’s previous relationship with him before things clicked together.)

But then she learned Jason shouldn’t even be breathing, and her indifference turned into intrigue.

Alive, but should be dead? It reminded her of Dányál. Made her wonder if he was catatonic as well, wherever that servant took him.

Her feelings about him did a 180 when she noticed Mother looked at him how she used to look at Dányál, years ago. The looks stopped when Dányál first began to voice his dislike about killing, but now here that look was, directed towards a boy no older than sixteen.

That look stayed after she dunked him in a Lazarus Pit, and Jason, in Pit induced rage, killed everyone in the room he woke up in. It formed into pride – a look Athanasia never saw towards Dányál.

It angered her. What – was Mother trying to replace her twin brother with Batman’s lame sidekick? She was offended on her twin’s behalf, wherever he was now.

On one of the nights she snuck into Damian’s rooms to spend time with him, the young boy noticed her anger. He asked what was wrong. She told him nothing. He scowled in that way when he knew someone was lying and there was no one to reprimand him on unnecessary emotional expressions. She flicked his ear. He hissed. She rolled her eyes.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” she told him. “Now – tell me why I heard about another fight between you and our dear cousin, Mara.”

Damian’s scowl turned into a sneer. An impressive one, too, for a six year old. “She insulted Dányál. Called him weak.” He paused. “So I bit her.”

Athanasia had never been more proud.

At age twelve, she spoke to Jason for the first time.

“Tell me about Batman.”

Jason turned, confused surprise clear as day on his face as he looked at her. “They have kids here?”

She stared at him, unblinking. “Tell me,” she repeated, demanding, “about Batman.”

He crossed his arms, eyes calculating as he continued to stare back. His head tilted, his eyes squinted, and then his brows rose like he saw something that he wasn’t expecting.

Agitated, she said, “Do you need another dunk in a Pit? Are you still catatonic? Answer me, Todd.” She snapped the last sentence in Arabic.

Jason rolled his eyes. He muttered a few cuss words. “Why do you want to know about Batman?”

“I need to know.”

“That doesn’t answer my question–.”

“And you have yet to answer mine,” she sneered.

They had a stare down. Jason blinked first – Athanasia smirked. He cussed again and ran a hand through his hair, which now had a white streak in it ever since he got dunked.

“He’s a detective. A good one,” he said. “One of the best, if not the best.”

She nodded once. “Is he a good man?”

That caught him off guard. For a moment, he didn’t answer, and she began to worry that her plan was already failing and she hadn’t even started it yet.

“Yes. Yeah, he’s a good man. Flawed to hell and back, but he’s good.” His brows pulled together. “Why? Why ask me?”

“Because you are his son, and he is your father.”

The teen glowered. “He is not–!”

Athanasia left before she could hear his dramatics.

There weren’t many moments where Athanasia spent one on one time with Talia. At least, moments where the woman wasn’t training her into a perfect assassin. Sitting here, in front of her vanity, with Mother braiding her hair and humming quietly, was a rarity.

And Athanasia was about to ruin it.

“I want to fake my death.”

Mother’s hands froze where they were nearly done braiding her hair. “Excuse me?”

“I want to fake my death,” she repeated. Maybe Mother liked Jason so much because they both needed phrases spoken twice, she thought. “To find Dányál.”

“What,” Mother hissed.

“And then,” she went on, staring straight back at Mother through the mirror, as if daring her to interrupt or refuse, “I want you to send Damian to our father, Bruce Wayne – the Batman.”

“And why would either of us do those things?” Mother asked slowly, dangerously.

“Because I watched Grandfather run a sword through my twin’s chest, and then I watched him be put in a Lazarus Pit to keep him alive by one of your servants who was disguising himself as one of Grandfather’s. Because I do not want be the heir, and I want to find my brother, and I do not want this life for Damian, and Jason Todd said Bruce Wayne is a good man.”

Mother didn’t respond right away. They continued to stare at one another through the mirror.

“If you have an ounce of love for any of us, you will help me.”

Mother finished the braid, then sent her away to her room.

Athanasia instead went to Jason’s rooms, where she snuck in again and poked through his collection of books Mother brought him. He complained and tried to get her to leave. She jabbed him in the gut with her elbow and asked what made Batman, Bruce Wayne, good.

Jason cussed her out.

He still explained what made his father good.

(“There is a very likely chance he will not remember you. As well as restoring memories, it can take them away.”

“I know, Mother.”

“Do you?”)

At age fourteen, Athanasia did just what she planned to do.

She faked her death.

But not without speaking to Damian first.

“Listen to me,” Athanasia said, hands cupping Damian’s face. He tried to move away. She gripped tighter, but still made sure not to hurt him. “Listen to me,” she stressed, “I am leaving. I have to go somewhere, and I will not be back until I find Dányál.”

“Dányál is–.”

“I said what I said,” she interrupted. “Understand?”

He scowled. It was cute. “No.”

“Too bad. Do not stop pestering Mother about meeting our Father, understand? Hopefully the next time we see each other, you will be with him and I will have our brother. But when you do meet him, do not mention me or Danny. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good.”

Damian huffed. “Remove your hands before I remove them for you.”

“No,” she said, and pulled him into a rare hug. He squawked, and wiggled away not even a second later. “Fight Mara for me while I’m gone.”

She slipped him a communicator she remade that only went to the matching one she was keeping for herself. He hid it in his clothes immediately.

And then she left to die, but not really.

Her heart stopped for five minutes.

At age sixteen, she finally found her should-be-dead brother.

He was in a haunted town in Illinois. Ghosts were real, apparently, and made themselves at home in this town. It was…odd. And ironic. And Athanasia couldn’t be happier.

She found that he was adopted by a scientific couple, who went from hunting ghosts with no ethics at all to studying ghosts with ethics. They had an 19 year old daughter named Jasmine, and Dányál went solely by ‘Danny’ but everyone (adults, really) occasionally called him ‘Daniel’. He had two best friends: Sam Manson and Tucker Foley. They were good people.

Dányál also seemed to be unknowingly following in their father’s footsteps. He and Phantom were obviously the same person. Although, Phantom often called himself a ghost. Dányál wasn’t one.

And as much as Athanasia wanted to make her presence known, and hug her twin for the first time in six years… She couldn’t. He was happy here, even with constantly fighting ghosts.

So, with plans to keep an eye on him, she left Amity Park.

And then went to Gotham City.

A year ago, Damian sent through their one way communicators that he was now with Father. From time to time, she now checked on Damian from afar when passing through, not yet in person because Dányál still wasn’t with her.

She also regularly broke into Jason Todd’s safe houses and stole one or two guns, or pushed the furniture five inches in various directions, or messed up his meticulously organized books, or stole food that he made.

It wasn’t what she saw herself doing after faking her death, but, well… At least they were all out of the League.

At age seventeen, she got word the League infiltrated the Ghost Investigation Ward.

And they had Phantom.

She wasn’t able to get him out until after she turned eighteen.

+++

At age five, Damian lost a brother.

The day started out normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. He trained, sometimes with Mother, but more often than not with other instructors. Sometimes Grandfather watched, and he did this time. It surprised him, not that he would show it.

Later that night, Athanasia snuck in. Unshed tears were in her eyes. Immediately, he was on alert.

“…Uhkti?” he asked.

Athanasia moved to sit in front of him on his bed. She reached her hands out until she was cupping his face, which was odd. Dányál did that, usually, but almost always to be annoying. The action felt…weird coming from his sister in a more serious way. He wanted to move but was frozen.

“I have to tell you something,” she spoke slowly.

With a start, he realized she was sad. Why was she sad? Not many things could upset his big sister.

“What is it?”

“…Dányál is gone,” she said. Her voice choked. “Dán– Danny is gone, Dames. He… He will not be coming back to the League. I’m sorry.”

Damian’s confusion crumbled into sorrow.

Seeing Athanasia without Dányál was something he didn’t like. For the most part, they didn’t allow the kids to interact outside of training, their cousin Mara al Ghul and the children of the Demon’s Fist included. All, except the twins.

They were born together. They lived together. They trained together – but also sometimes against each other. Those always turned into draws.

Two halves of a whole.

He once heard someone call them the Twin Terrors. He understood why – they were ruthless when they fought by themselves, but decimated opponents when they were side by side. Damian expected them to lead the Demon’s Fist together – and they did, for a short time. But then something changed.

It was abruptly only Dányál. But then Dányál died. Then it was Athanasia.

Mara said it should be her. She taunted his sister. She then began to taunt him. Athanasia never gave in, but during training she didn’t hold back. Damian did give in and vowed to beat his cousin in every fight against her, training or not.

No one called his brother weak.

(Mother seemed to agree. Two members of the League got caught speaking about perhaps Dányál al Ghul just wasn’t strong enough. They were gone by nightfall, and Damian walked in on Mother cleaning blood off of her sword.)

At age seven, he first noticed Athanasia’s hatred at their Grandfather.

It was during a training session. Him against his sister. Grandfather was watching and judging. Athanasia beat him, but he came close to beating her.

It was when Grandfather had his back turned, when they were off to the side tending to bruises and wounds, when Damian glanced up at Athanasia and saw nothing but pure hatred on her face.

It was gone a second later.

Damian almost thought he imagined it. Almost.

“Who killed our brother?” he asked one night.

They were sitting on the window sill of an opened window, squished together as they watched the stars. It was uncomfortable. Damian didn’t mind.

“Why do you think I know?” she asked in return.

“Because you are you. You learn things – detect them out.”

“‘Detect’ is a big word for a seven year old.”

“I will gut you like a pig–.”

She never told him.

He had his suspicions, though.

At age nine, Athanasia left him. Left the League of Assassins.

She said she would see him again when she found Dányál and, seeing as though their brother was dead, Damian knew he would most likely never see her again.

He sort of hated her for leaving.

Though, he still took the communicator she gave him and kept it on his persons at all times, just in case.

Just a week after she left, word spread through the League that Athanasia al Ghul died during a mission gone wrong. Mother came back with bloodstained clothes and a look in her eyes that made Damian refrain from asking any questions.

A servant tried to offer their condolences. Mother slit their throat.

He continued to ask Mother about his Father, though. She continued to refuse, and said he would learn about the man once he beat her in a fight.

Damian took that challenge to heart and made sure he got better and better and better – until he was as good as his older siblings.

Mara continued to be an annoyance and a pain. With now two of Talia’s children dead and gone, she taunted Damian with how pathetic they were. How Dányál was killed because he began to defy orders and refuse to kill. How it was only a matter of time before Damian died, too, and she would be the true rightful heir to the Demon’s Fist and then the Demon’s Head.

It was far from the truth. He might not be the fighters and killers Dányál and Athanasia were, but he was better than Mara. After all, he was the only blood son of Talia al Ghul and a great, powerful man he desperately wanted to meet. He was a far better assassin than Mara ever was.

They fought against each other during training again.

He won, of course.

He also blinded her in one eye.

At age ten, he finally got to leave to meet his father. It was not as he was expecting.

There was a rule: no killing. Damian didn’t like that rule. That was how Dányál got killed himself.

What he also didn’t like, were the hundreds of other children Father had – apparently they were Damian’s siblings. He already had siblings, two of them, and they were both gone, and he didn’t need any more of them.

He sent Athanasia a message saying that he was now with Father. He got a simple, ‘Good,’ in response and nothing else.

He was both relieved she was alive and angry that she still hadn’t come back.

“Where the fuck is your sister?” Todd asked after they first met.

Damian stared him dead in the eyes and asked, “What sister?”

“Y’know… Your older sister,” he said.

“I don’t have a sister.”

“Um, yes, you do.”

“Then what is her name?”

“It’s… Well, what the fuck does that matter? She’s your sister, you should know!”

“I told you, I do not have a sister. Do you need to be dumped in the Pit to fix your brain again?”

Todd paused. He then let out a string of curses and angrily left.

Damian smirked to himself.

Shortly afterward, Father died. Except, Timothy Drake, like the idiot that he was, believed that he was still alive.

In that way, he reminded Damian of Athanasia and how she left to find she left to find Dányál, and he also reminded him of Dányál when he snarked while fighting, which he was admittedly great at. He also excelled at detective work.

Drake eventually left to find Batman.

Damian hated Drake.

Richard Grayson was…okay. Certainly better than Drake, the insolent whelp that he was. Grayson took up Batman, Damian was Robin. It was rough at first, but they eventually got the hang of it.

It just…took some time.

And then of course Drake came back with evidence that Father was, in fact, alive.

(Damian also had a metal spine, now, but that was neither here nor there.)

At age eleven, Father came back from being lost in the time stream.

Richard went back to Blüdhaven. Drake came and went from his own place and to the manor. Todd did his own things as per usual. Cain came and went, too, but often tried to spend time with Damian.

Drake tried once, too. It shockingly went well – right up until ‘Dames’ slipped out of his mouth.

“Do not call me that,” Damian snapped, the awkward but good atmosphere disappearing within milliseconds.

Drake startled. “Whoa, okay,” he said. His hands were held up as if he was surrendering. “All right, I won’t. I’m sor– wait, Damian, come back! I’m sorry!”

Damian ignored him and stalked to his room.

At age twelve, his communicator with Athanasia went off, the message telling him to look into the Ghost Investigation Ward immediately.

Only, he didn’t see or hear it.

He was dead, at the time, thanks to Heretic.

He didn’t see it until after he came back. He tried to get into contact with his sister once he did, but something blocked the connection.

It wasn’t until months later, now at age thirteen, when he heard from her again.

And she had Dányál with her.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for not divorcing my (30F) husband (30s M), when my boyfriend (30s M) wants me to?

TW for death and cancer.

I know it sounds bad. But I promise, everyone in this situation has the full picture, and there was no cheating or infidelity involved. Some details will be left out or changed for the purpose of anonymity.

We’ll call my boyfriend “Richard,” and my husband “Marty.” Marty and I have a romantic history prior to this situation.

The story starts about 5 years ago. I got pregnant with Richard’s baby. I was not in a relationship with him at the time of conception or birth. Richard has been a great father to our kid the entire time.

During my pregnancy, I was dealing with a lot of difficult emotions, and that showed in my dating life. I was dating Marty for a while, and we were briefly engaged, but I broke off the engagement because he had been lying to me about some important stuff, and I was having feelings for Richard (yay pregnancy hormones).

Then Richard and I dated for a bit - he proposed WAY too soon, and he broke up with me after I rejected him.

After my son was born, there was some back and forth feelings within this love triangle for a bit, but no dating. Ultimately Marty and I got back together, and got married about a year later.

And then Marty died.

I have spent the past 4 years getting over his death. I made some big moves in my career, I moved back in with family because I couldn’t afford rent without Marty, my mom got and beat cancer, my dad’s career got huge, I learned how to coparent with Richard, and I came to terms with being a widow.

I started dating again last year. After my first couple breakups, Richard and I chose to give a relationship a try. We were good co-parents, we were better communicators than last time, and we cared about each other deeply. There’ve been some ups and downs, with our kid having some behavioral issues, and some external factors adding stress, but he was going to propose to me.

And then Marty came back from the dead.

Well, really what happened is that Richard found out that Marty wasn’t actually dead, and brought him back.

Turns out that Marty had been in an accident, lost his memory, and had been living halfway across the country under a new identity. His body had somehow been swapped for a John Doe somewhere between the accident and the morgue - I don’t know exactly how it happened or how the coroner didn’t catch it.

Anyway, Richard flew Marty back out to us. He didn’t remember any of us. We tried for a couple weeks to help him regain his memory, but nothing was working.

Right as he decided to leave back for his existing life, he bumped his head and remembered everything.

So now I’m stuck. I have a fantastic boyfriend, who I was going to marry. But according to my lawyer, I’m still legally married to Marty. And I do still love him - his death didn’t make me stop loving him. But he’s also not exactly the same person - he has the new identity mixed in.

I told my boyfriend that I needed a beat - I have always held the sanctity of marriage in high regards, so I feel like I have a moral obligation to Marty, which makes signing the divorce papers hard.

My family and friends all say I should divorce him and stay with Richard. I signed the divorce papers and put them in the mailbox this afternoon with my friend, but after she left I got freaked out and took them back. My friend told Richard that I’d sent them, and when he found out that I hadn’t, it really hurt him. He pulled out the engagement ring and put it on the desk and basically told me the ball was in my court, and left.

Tonight, when I still didn’t have an answer, he broke up with me.

So am I so wrong for not being able to divorce my husband at the drop of a hat?

[selfboredom]

MOTHERS MISTAKES

CHAPTER THREE :⠀ANOTHER BEGINNING

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

summary :⠀When Arven went to Lab Zero, he expected to be tearing his mother apart for everything she put him through. For abandoning him. Only to find yet another that was left behind in the wake of her mistakes. But some small part of him held out hope. Hope that together they could fix things, and not let anything else be ruined by her.

ao3 link :⠀link

content warnings :⠀parental neglect

fandom :⠀pokemon⠀( scarlet version )

word count :⠀3110

        The trio sat around the room, silently staring at Arven and Sada. Listening closely as they finished their recounting of the past hours' events. None of them could think of anything to say, just in pure shock. Nemona finally broke the silence that had settled over the lab,

        “Dear Arceus… I can’t believe you two had to go through all that…” She whispered.

        “Well, it does seem in character. At least from what Arvens told me about his actual mom.” Florien said with a small shrug.

        “This is absolutely unbelievable. How did the professor manage to program a truly sentient AI? If this could be replicated…” Penny murmured, closely examining Sada.

        “I was programmed with the professor's memory and personality. That’s why I seem more lifelike than an average AI. Replicating me without a human as a basis would be near impossible.” Sada said, enjoying the younger students’ fascination with her creation.

        “Interesting. But you also mentioned you’re the ‘vessel’ for the time machine security system. How did Arven shut it down without… Uh…Getting rid of you?” Penny asked, finally backing off from the professor.

        “Well, that’s what we need some help with. She’s linked heavily with this lab, but if we can rewri-” Arven began, getting cut off abruptly by Penny-

        “That’s impossible.” She said flatly, not bothering to let him even finish the word.

        “Yeah, even with Penny that would be an impossible task,” Nemona said, looking sympathetically towards Arven.

        “It’s not entirely hopeless. The professor wasn’t the only one developing me. My programming should be documented thoroughly. You would have to dig around for it though.” AI Sada explained, placing a gentle hand on Arvens shoulder.

        “Still… It would take a lot of work.” Penny said, remaining unconvinced.

        “Look, if I could do this myself I would. There’s no other way. And I refuse to leave her behind without trying.” Arven replied, his voice cracking ever so slightly. The trio shared a concerned glance before Penny let out an exasperated sigh.

        “Fine. But you’re taking care of the body yourself, Arven. And helping me find that documentation.” She said, freezing up as she was suddenly captured in a hug. Arven couldn’t stop blurting out ‘thank you’ as he tightly squeezed the other teen. After a few seconds, he let go, regaining his typical standoffish composure.

        “Anyway… We can’t exactly move in here, so we need to get a copy of the code to take out of the lab. Uh, how big would that be?” Arven asked, turning to face the AI.

        “I hope you can afford a lot of hard drives.” She said bluntly.

      Arvens knees buckled as he struggled to lug the final boxes of SSDs into the lighthouse laboratory. He carefully placed them with the others. He collapsed onto the floor immediately after.

        “You know when she said the size was in petabytes… I did not imagine it would be this many terabytes.” He groaned, gasping to get oxygen back into his system while Penny stepped over him.

        “Well at least we know how many SSDs a Mudsdale weighs now.” She said, plonking herself down in the creaky office chair in front of Sada’s computer.

        “You were more than welcome to help, Penny.” He mumbled into the floor.

        “I’m already dealing with the programming for you.” She said, waving her hand dismissively as she logged into the massive desktop.

        “Now. Where’s this documentation she was talking about? It wasn’t in the Zero Lab or the research stations, so this is the only place left.” She said, talking to herself as she began sifting through the heinously messy hard drive. 

Years-old note files, random photos and downloads. It was a miracle the computer even ran with the amount of junk clogging it. Even now it took minutes at a time to load a single folder.

        “Arceus knows. She left the place a complete mess when she went down to Area Zero permanently. It should be on this first floor though-” Arven said, properly sitting up from the floor.

        “Arven, how do you think the documentation was stored?” Penny asked, cutting him off and slowly turning around to look at him.

        “I mean, she kept almost everything handwritten…” He mumbled, fidgeting slightly in place. Suddenly hyperaware of how long the cable for the computer mouse was.

        “Arven. Please for the love of Arceus. Tell me you don’t actually think the professor wrote down the documentation for a sentient AI in a PHYSICAL. NOTEBOOK.” She said, raising her voice slightly in the end. Something that Arven did not think the programmer was capable of.

        “So anyway, I’ll get to building the SSD rack.” He said, scrambling upstairs, Penny following closely behind yelling at him.

        “WE ARE NOT JUST DROPPING THIS SUBJECT SANDWICH BOY-”

        Arven slotted the final SSD into the rack. He plugged in the cables finally connecting AI Sada’s programming to the computer. Penny sat at the desk reading through the documentation that she had finally found. Though it was almost as messy as the hard drive itself, it at least made the code decipherable.

        “The SSDs are all up and running. You can edit her programming now.” He announced, walking over to the wall of monitors.

        “I just found the section about the security protocols. They don’t seem to be baked into her core functionality. So they should be removable while keeping her working. It's going to take a while though. I need to be a lot more cautious than with the league” Penny said, not looking up from the screen.

        “Thank you again, for this Penny. I can’t say it enough.” He said quietly, hugging his sleeves.

        “It’s fine. I might not like my dad constantly being around… But I can see why you want to salvage Sada.” She said, giving Arven a sympathetic glance.

        “I’m gonna go get the robot from the Zero Lab. I’ll be back soon, alright?” He said, walking out the door to meet with Florian and head back down to the crater.

        Arven sat on the floor with the robot. silently chipping off the tera crystals that had formed around her. It was tedious work. The tera crystals embedded themselves into her. It was impossible to scrape off completely. Though it was only a millimetres thin layer of crystal left after being scraped.

        “I’m going to fix this. I promise… I’ll fix her mistakes.” He whispered, knowing that she was unable to hear him. He diligently continued scraping her exterior nonetheless.

Over the next week, Arven managed to clean up the exterior as much as he could. His time to work on the repairs was limited but he made do, pulling a few all-nighters. Now, he had to deal with a much more delicate operation.

Arven took in a deep breath, carefully removing her exterior shell. As he held it, the reality of just how human-like she was hit him. The synthetic skin felt so realistic. Almost like he was holding a corpse, ice cold in his hands. He writhed uncomfortably at that feeling, barely resisting the urge to chuck it away from him. 

He set it aside safely and out of view before examining the robot's internal mechanisms. A pristine metal skeleton sat inside, almost mimicking a human exactly. Even down to a ribcage, providing extra protection to her central battery and motor. Behind the skeleton, a massive motherboard covered her entire torso.

The damage wasn’t too severe overall, only a small amount of tera crystals got inside. Though her legs were badly crystallised, they only broke a couple replaceable cables. He got back to scraping away tera crystals, extra careful not to damage any more of her internals. He hummed quietly as he worked, trying to distract himself from the utter emptiness of the lab.

He should be used to this. But being back in his mother's lab… It felt a lot more lonely. Surrounded by mountains of documents and work. Work that she always prioritised over him. Now stuck fixing another of her victims.

In a few days, Arven finished his work on the body, reaching her head. He recoiled back feeling the hair. It felt… Real. He knew it was likely some type of synthetic material, but it was still unsettling. The subtly bumpy texture. The way the strands so naturally fell between his fingers. Another reminder of the AI’s humanity.

He carefully removed the face plate, luckily not causing any damage. Like her main body, only a little bit of the tera energy had gotten inside. Though, unlike her body, the mechanisms of her head were infinitely easier to break. The electronics inside were crammed tight. There wasn’t even a millimetre of wiggle room.

Stress began to get to the teen. He knew that this was the most important part. One wrong move here could potentially break everything. With that in mind, Arven began to methodically scrape away at the tera crystals.

Over the days working on it, he found a comfortable groove. But at the last possible moment. A deafening crack sounded throughout the silent lab. Panic instantly set in, throwing his tools to the side. Frantically trying to find the damage. In the end, it was the port for one of her eyes that fell victim to his slip of the hand.

Arven let out a deep sigh of relief, removing the wire from the broken port. He thoroughly checked for any more damage to the circuit but didn’t find any. He reattached the face plate, sure to not make any more mistakes.

He took a few steps back, looking at the reassembled robot. The leftover crystallisation on her skin gave it a crystal vitiligo effect. Hopefully, it wouldn’t interfere anymore with her motor functions. Her hair was still laden with tera crystals, though due to the nature of the material he couldn’t help much with that.

        “Sorry about your eye. Hopefully, everything should be working though. Even if your legs were a bit rough with tera crystals.” Arven said quietly, waiting a moment for a response he knew wouldn’t come.

        “Penny isn’t finished adjusting your programming yet. But she’s down to removing the Paradise Protection Protocol now. You should be back soon…” He continued, standing next to the robot. He glanced over at her, greeted by empty voids for eyes.

        “Goodnight Mom… I’ll make sure you don’t get dusty before we can reboot you.” He whispered, wrapping her in a small hug. 

She was still completely cold. 

        The wait for Penny to finish fixing Sada’s programming was torturous. But Arven finally heard the familiar ring of his rotom phone late one night. 

        “Hey, I think I finally cracked it. I can’t be sure, the code was a complete mess. But I’m pretty sure the security protocols are gone.” A tired voice rang through the speaker. Only conscious via the power of copious energy drinks.

        “So if we link her to this code we can safely deactivate the time machine?” He asked, a hesitant hope seeping into his voice.

        “If everything goes well, yeah. I’ll meet you at the lab tomorrow and we can see if she functions right.” Penny mumbled, her voice barely picked up by the microphone.

        “Thank you, thank you so much for doing all this.” He said, barely containing his joy. The only response he got was a low groan followed shortly by the call disconnecting. After putting his phone away, Arven crept up to the lab's second level.

The robot stood as motionless as ever. Still exactly where she was left last. 

        “Hey, Mom. Penny finally fixed your programming. At least we think she did… Either way, you’re going to be back tomorrow. You’re… You’re going to be better tomorrow okay.” He said, hope lacing his voice. “Please… Please be better tomorrow. And if you aren’t…” He continued, tears beading in his eyes as he stared at his imperfect repairs.

        “Please just know we tried, Mom. We really did… I really did… I never wanted to abandon you. Not like her.” He whispered, voice cracking as he hugged her tightly. With no one else around, he let the tears fall. Crying silently into her chest as his grip tightened.

        Arven stood by Penny, uncharacteristically fidgety. Watching Penny link the fixed AI to the robot shell. Switching on the power, nothing happened for a few minutes. The only sound coming from the robot was the sound of internal fans running. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, only showing a dim electric blue iris in the still functional one.

The pair stayed silent, watching the robot continue to boot up. Another minute passed before she started rapidly blinking. Soon revealing her more human eye once again. 

        “Arven? Penny? Where… Where am I?… This isn’t the Zero Lab.” She said, looking around the messy room. It felt familiar. But she couldn’t specifically identify any memories of the place despite that. Her vision was also drastically limited.

        “This was the professor's ‘home’ lab. Is everything in you functioning properly?” Penny asked, trying to assess the AI’s condition as best she could.

        “My vision… It’s much reduced from before.” She murmured, her words slurred as she continued to boot.

        “That’s on me. While I was getting the tera crystals out of your head I slipped. Sorry…” Arven said, avoiding her gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.

        “I should be able to adjust to it. Is everything else inside functional?” Sada asked, a small smile resting on her face.

        “The tera energy was pretty thick around your legs, but otherwise you should be fine.” He said, looking over to Penny to take over.

        “Do you feel anything different inside? Memories being hazy, forgetting things, stuff like that.” Penny asked, examining the professor's exterior for any other defects.

        “No. Now that I’m fully booted I don’t feel any different. Thank you for your help, Penny.” Sada responded, all lack of clarity finally leaving her voice. She seemed to be running completely normally now.

        “That’s good. If you start bugging out, uh, I apologise.” She said quietly, looking over at Arven. “I have Eevees to get back to, I’ll leave you pair be.” She said before walking out of the lab, leaving the others by themselves.

Once Penny had left, Arven leapt into a hug with Sada, clutching her as if she might just disappear if he let go. Sada tenderly wrapped her arms around Arven in turn, the pair staying still and taking in the moment. It was nice feeling her warmth again. Her arms wrapped around him again.

        “I knew you and your friend could do it, Arven.” She whispered, breaking the silence that fell upon the room. 

        “I mean, Penny did all the hard work. I just fixed your internals, and I didn’t even get that right.” He murmured, feeling guilty over breaking her eye. Sada’s only response was hugging him tighter before she spoke again.

        “I’m still proud of you, regardless. And thankful… I’m finally free of that lab.” She said, tenderly running her hand through Arvens hair, “I… I can go explore. I can pursue my own dreams.” She said, joy apparent in her voice despite its robotic undertone. 

        “Well, before you do that there is one issue we need to take care of,” Arven said quietly. Tension quickly entered the air around them. He reluctantly parted from Sada.

        “Of course… Hopefully, your friend was successful in removing my security protocols.” Sada said, the prior emotion leaving her voice. Only leaving behind dread and concern.

They had a time machine to shut down.

        Arven and the professor stepped out of the elevator. Once again greeted by the blinding brightness of the tera crystal walls. The cracks left behind from Koraidon’s battle were as it was when Arven had first left. 

Embedded in the ceiling was the camera shutter-like machine, as imposing as ever. It was in sleep mode, but they knew at any point it could reactivate itself and wreak havoc. 

        “Would you do the honours… Mom?” Arven asked, the last word coming out barely audibly. He’d said it before, but when she was actually conscious… It came a lot harder to him.

        “Of course. Hopefully, it won’t happen, but being out of raising floor range is good.” Sada said, taking the Scarlet Book from the teen. Her grip on it tightened as she approached the pedestal in the centre of the room. She couldn’t stand the thought of possibly hurting Arven again. 

He didn’t have Koraidon with him either, so in a worst-case scenario, he would be completely defenceless. She was taken out of her own head feeling a hand grab her wrist, just now noticing her hands shaking out of control. She looked down towards Arven, calming herself down enough to place the book into its slot. The pair stepped back, hearing the familiar voice over the speakers.

ID CONFIRMED: PROFESSOR SADA.

ACCESS GRANTED.

EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN INITIATED.

PLEASE WAIT…

PLEASE WAIT…

Arven and Sada stood still, staring up at the time machine. Sada had Arvens hand in a vice grip, trying to calm herself down as they kept waiting. Waiting for something to go wrong. 

For the security protocols to be reactivated. 

For history to just repeat itself.

EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN SUCCESSFUL.

The announcement cut through the suffocating tension that took over the room. The once blinding walls gradually shut off, becoming obsidian black like the floor. The shutter up in the ceiling groaned to life. This time instead of blooming outwards, it twisted itself tightly shut.

If she physically could, the AI would have been in tears. Instead, nearly collapsing she hugged Arven crushingly tight.

        “You did it! You actually did it! Dear Arceus, thank you. The professor's dream is finally over.” She said, small convulsions running through her body. “And I’m… I can leave this all behind… I can be the parent you deserved. I can go on my own journey, without anything or anyone telling me what to do.” She whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

        “Arven, I can never truly tell you how thankful I am… Thank you for not leaving me behind. For letting me… Us… Have a new beginning.” She said, releasing the teen from her grip and replacing it with a gentle hand holding his cheek. 

Arven stayed silent. Tears trickled down his face as his lips pulled themselves into a tight smile. They couldn’t just go back to rewrite the past, to erase his mother's mistakes. But now… The future looked a lot more hopeful. 

It wasn’t at all certain, but it was theirs to write. For themselves. With no one else to answer to for once in their lives.

[limeleviathan]

introducing the first of my traumatised lesbian couple!

meet Subject: AVIAN

same with the other Subjects, she uses her codename of AVIAN as a nickname

AVIAN's speech indicator will be A, for example (A: do you need a hug?)

she is a lesbian and goes by she/her

the ball of sunshine among the Subjects, she is highly emotional and cares deeply about her friends, and could absolutely kill someone if they tried to hurt her friends or her girlfriend, Cerulean

formerly going by Tangelo, she uses AVIAN as her main name and codename, however sometimes still uses Tangelo with Cerulean or anyone else she knew before Operation Hydra

she is capable of flight through wings added onto her cybernetic torso. she pairs this ability with a customised sniper rifle built by LEVIATHAN and uses two wing blades to stabilise it. when in closer combat, she attaches a wing blade to the end of her sniper and uses it like a bayonet, and uses the other as a hands-free sword

she was entered into Operation Hydra after a car hit the one she and Cerulean were in side-on, causing the petrol tank to explode, with her needing the help of the Operation to live, and Cerulean only just getting by with standard care

BACKSTORY

My life has always been great. Yeah, I’ve had some ups and downs, and some extra downs, but that’s in the past. Life is short, you gotta live it to the fullest. Anyway, it was only relatively recently that everything really got going. I’ve met so many wonderful people, like ARACHNID, my adopted sibling, Cerulean, my girlfriend, and the other Subjects at Operation Hydra.

Let's start from the beginning here. First up, ARACHNID. I still remember their old name, but since they’ve stated that they don’t like the ties it has to their past, I’m gonna make sure I respect that. I first met them at the park with my parents. I was just running around, as kids do, when I saw them sitting on the bench, looking fairly upset. 

I was a little wary at first since they seemed at least a few years older than me, but I couldn’t stand to see anyone that sad without helping them. So, I walked over and asked if they wanted to play with me. They seemed delighted, as though that was the first time someone had cared about them for a while, which knowing their backstory, it kinda was.

We were running around, playing games, having a couple of friendly duels, with no injuries of course, until my parents came and said it was time to go. I noticed that I hadn’t seen ARACHNID’s parents at any point during our time together, so I asked where their parents were.

They broke down sobbing. I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t know what to do, I was stressed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My parents…” they murmured, “They… They’re…”

“They’re what?”

“They’re dead. I watched my dad murdered in front of my own eyes, and my mum starved right next to me on the streets a few months later.”

I realised just how horrible of a situation this was. I thought they were just independent, going to the park on their own, but this was NOT what I had expected.

“Do you… Do you still have a home, at least?” I asked, a lot less enthusiastic and a lot more wary than before.

“No,” they said quietly, “we couldn’t afford to keep it after the loss of Dad.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, it's probably a lot. Well, you’d best go with your parents. Maybe I’ll see you again soon.”

“Hopefully. I’ll try and help you as best I can, alright?”

“That’d certainly be nice.”

And with that, I went back home. Although I didn’t sleep too well that night. I had nightmares where I watched ARACHNID starve, helpless, watched them lose their parents, just horrible scene after horrible scene. I couldn’t take it anymore. I came over to my parents and explained everything.

“Well, there might be something we could do…” Mum said thoughtfully.

“What?” I asked enthusiastically.

“Well… That kid’s an orphan, right?”

“A what?”

“An orphan, a child who lost their parents,” explained Dad. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well, considering that they are an orphan, we may be able to adopt them,” Mum explained.

“Adopt them?” I asked. “What does adopt mean?”

“Basically, when a kid has no parents, you can bring them into your own family, and become their legal guardian,” Mum explained, “although we’d obviously need to make sure that we are ok with it. How about we go to the park again and see if we can find them? Maybe we can get to know them and talk about this with them.”

And that was what we did. We returned early that morning with breakfast packed for all 3 of us as well as ARACHNID. 

As we arrived, we saw them lying on a bench, asleep but clearly not comfortable. I walked up to them and sat in the little remaining space on the bench. I intended to wait until they woke, but my arrival there caused them to jump up defensively, before realising it was me and relaxing.

“Well,” they said, clearly still tired from their poor sleep. “Wasn’t expecting to actually see you again.”

“Fair enough,” I said, “considering that I wouldn’t be going to the same park every day usually, and you would probably move before I even returned. Anyway, we brought you breakfast.”

“Wait, you brought me food?”

“Yeah, you seemed really hungry yesterday, and considering that you don’t have anyone or anywhere to go to, chances are food would be scarce.”

“Wow… Thank you so much. I haven’t had breakfast in quite some time.”

“And another thing. I’m gonna introduce you to my parents because we’ve had an idea!” I said, beaming.

So we sat down in the middle of the field and I introduced ARACHNID to my parents. After they exchanged introductions, my impatient young self quickly got straight to the point.

“So what’s the plan about that adopting thing?” I asked, too excited to handle myself.

ARACHNID stopped eating mid-bite and looked at me. For a moment I thought I had said something wrong, but then they suddenly said “You’d do that for me? You care about me that much? Haven’t experienced that since… Well, you probably know when.”

So my mum and dad explained everything that we had talked about, and how they wanted to get to know ARACHNID before going through with all of this. We sat in a circle talking and exchanging stories for hours. Finally, my parents reached a decision.

“So,” Dad said, “we’d love to be able to bring you into our family. Although we want to make sure it’s what you want as well. I know Tangelo would love that, and we’d love to have you, but ultimately, it’s your decision.”

“Well,” ARACHNID said, contemplating the last few hours. “My final decision is… Absolutely! Why wouldn't I want to join you guys?!”

“YES!” I yelled before I could contain myself. I ran over to give them a hug, which they reciprocated. My parents joined the hug and we all remained there for a minute.

“Welcome to the family, kid,” Dad said.

“We’ll do everything we can to help you,” Mum added. “You’re one of us now, and we’ll do our best to help you with whatever you need us for.”

And that’s the story of how I met ARACHNID. As we lived as siblings, we shared so many crucial moments of our lives. This all eventually led to another key turning point in my life at the age of 12.

I had realised that I was a lesbian only relatively recently, although it hadn’t really impacted me very much. One evening, though, I had my best friends over for a sleepover. Naturally, we played Truth or Dare, as you do. And I asked Cerulean about who her crush was.

The secret, though, was that I had had a crush on her for quite a while now. Every evening I just lay in bed, thinking about a future where we could be together. However, despite how close we were as friends, I always knew that she’d probably fall in love with some guy and crush all of my hopes. So naturally, I asked her in the one place where you cannot lie: Truth or Dare.

I knew that this was probably going to crush my hopes, but better crush them now than later when I only loved her more. This was where things quickly turned around though. When I asked her, she blushed and looked at the ground. She seemed to be working up the courage to say something.

“My crush…” she began, clearly nervous. “My crush is… it’s you, Tangelo. But I know you’re probably straight, so I haven’t told you… Until now.”

Lime, the only other one in the room at the time, went silent. She turned to me. According to her, I was blushing even more red than usual.

“That…” I stuttered, butterflies in my stomach. “That was… This is… I can’t believe…” I gave up on words and ran over to hug her. “I had a crush on you too,” I whispered into her ear.

Lime went crazy in celebration. She was shocked that not one, but TWO of their friends were lesbians, AND they just so happened to like each other! What were the chances?!

I still remember that day as one of the greatest days of my life. 2 years later, Cerulean and I were still together, and still absolutely in love. We had gone through some of our hardest times together, and some of our greatest moments side by side. Things turned around quickly though.

On my 14th birthday, mum was driving me and Cerulean down to the bowling alley to have some fun and so that we could settle a bet we had. Cerulean claimed to be an incredible bowler, and that she used to do league bowling every Friday. Here’s the thing I didn’t tell her, though: I did league bowling every Wednesday for 6 years. We thought we’d see how she stacked up against my hidden skill.

Well, that was the plan. While we were driving, a car came speeding down the highway and slammed into the door next to me head-on. That caused the rupturing and explosion of the fuel tank, which seriously injured everyone in the car and would’ve killed me if Operation Hydra didn’t exist.

As we were rushed to the hospital, it was apparent that I wouldn’t make it. I was too heavily burned and was struggling to get enough oxygen to breathe. As I fell unconscious, I whispered “Go on without me, Cerulean.”

As I lay unconscious, my dreams flicked through all my key moments in life: my first meeting with ARACHNID, and how they became my sibling. My meeting with Cerulean, not knowing that we would come to be so much closer than friends. That game of Truth or Dare. All the little moments I shared with those closest to me. I thought I had died. 

It was certainly a surprise to have actually woken up. As my vision returned and I processed what was going on, I immediately asked a purple figure standing next to me “Did… Did I die? Is this heaven?”

As my vision cleared, I saw ARACHNID standing next to me, Cerulean by their side, both clearly relieved that I had woken up. I thought I was hallucinating, though. Did ARACHNID have 6 arms?

“What…What happened?” I murmured.

“Well, first of all, you died,” Cerulean explained, “and me and your mum nearly did too, only barely escaping it.”

ARACHNID looked at me and said, “Look down.”

I did and saw some kind of cybernetics around my torso and upper arms and legs.

“So what happened was that you were burned beyond saving,” ARACHNID began, “at least by standard medicine. So they entered you here. Operation Hydra they call it. I volunteered, too. I wasn’t going to leave you alone here, sis. And that’s why I have so many arms.” Well, that explained that.

“As soon as I woke up again in hospital,” Cerulean said, “I asked where you were. They said you were part of some experimental government operation to work on further medical abilities through cybernetics. I asked to see you the moment it was possible, and they brought me here and set up a place for me to stay while you recover. Your parents are outside, and you’ll get to meet with the other Subjects who were part of this soon. They’re great people, you’ll love them.”

And so began the latest chapter of my life. As we chose what abilities we wanted, I chose flight through wings, paired with the codename AVIAN, and learned why ARACHNID had 6 arms, and that’s also when they began going by ARACHNID.

The best part was, Cerulean stuck with me the whole time, seeing me every day she could. Now, since I got the hang of flying, carrying her around the sunset sky has become our favourite thing to do.

[chronic-invisibility]

Update again in case anyone is interested: today was my day off, but I called the ethics line tonight (I was on the phone for 35 and a half minutes) and told the person I spoke to about the issues we’ve been having, they’re writing a report and it will be evaluated, I asked to be anonymous, but some of the info I gave them will link this report to me anyway (namely that I’m the only immunizer for my store). The person I talked to mentioned the zero retaliation policy like 3 times, which I’ll believe it when I see it, bc there absolutely have been people fired for blowing the whistle about stuff before, but if they fire me over this I’ll have a case for wrongful termination (even though I can’t afford a lawyer). I texted one of my coworkers who also made a report to the ethics line about these issues and she is similarly wary about if anything will actually happen but at least we’re documenting that we’re having issues and trying to get help for it. I was telling my parents about it after I got off the phone and they asked me if I brought up like 3 other things I forgot to mention, that’s how bad things are, like I can’t even remember all the issues we’re having that need to be addressed. I also texted my old manager to ask her what I need to do to put in my two weeks notice, she literally texted me back as I was writing this, so I know who I need to email tomorrow morning. And I told my parents so they know and they are like “ok fine sure” that I’m 100% prepared to quit on the spot and walk out of the store and come home tomorrow if one single customer screams at me. Like “oh if you think you can do a better job than me at this i’d like to see you try, fuck you I’m done I quit go fuck yourselves” and clock out and walk right out. But maybe hopefully it will be a little more bearable knowing I’m leaving, although I doubt it. Apparently today was also really bad, so tomorrow is going to be bad, too, bc we’ll have everything from today we couldn’t take care of and all of tomorrow’s things to do, too. So maybe 2 weeks left, and maybe fewer if I quit on the spot if I get yelled at. I’m done taking abuse from customers and management, I’ve had it. It’s not okay, and if me blowing the whistle like this means the store gets shut down entirely bc the company plans to close over 900 stores by the end of next year bc they’re broke, then so be it. There are like 6 stores in our chain within 5 miles of here, people can just go to a different one or move to a different chain entirely. I really don’t give a fuck anymore.

Fuck my stupid job, i gave 107 vaccines today, give or take a few, and today was supposed to be my day off. I told them i could stay until 6 but i left a few minutes before 8 bc we were so busy and behind and also there was just problem after problem. Fuck corporate and fuck Lorice especially, she sucks and 2 other techs called the ethics line today about how she’s treating us, i’m going to as well. Istg if i could get a better job i’d leave in a heartbeat.

[deceitful-darlings]

You didn’t realize you are pregnant when you broke up with Idia. When you do discover the condition it was too late to get rid of it. So you raised your son by yourself, loves him with all of your heart despite him being a spitting image of the father he never met.

He is not over you, but he is letting you go because that is what you need. Basically went all crazy after he hears about the child.

When Idia knows about this, Idia shroud.exe has crashed. How dare you? How dare you keep the existence of his son a secret! He was not there when the little hellflame first talked, or walked or crawls? Both of you are coming to the underworld with him, and you will have to compensate the missing experience with another baby, one which he will witness their entire growth this time.

It’s a tough pill to swallow, that’s for sure. Breaking up with Idia had taken a lot out of you emotionally, the relationship had been fine to start, but as time moved on, the love had fizzled out. For you anyway. Being with Idia wasn’t easy, his hermit lifestyle had turned out being a lot more demanding that you had ever anticipated if being. It was a horrible feeling to drift away from your friends because of wanting to spend time with him, you couldn’t help but become a little bitter that it always seemed to be you putting the effort in. He didn’t come out, he didn’t like going on walks still, didn’t want to meet your friends, no. It was down to you to go to him, to be his rock, one of very few to listen to him, and it turned out to be too taxing to let your feelings stay burning.

But for you to find out you were pregnant because of him? So distracted with the chaos in your life that you hadn’t noticed the missed periods and how the blood in your panties was too little to be anything but spotting, and now you’re devastated at your naivety. You should’ve been smarter, you knew that you hadn’t always used protection, so why hadn’t you done a test before this point?! Why was it only now, too late to abort them, that you found out?! So you suck it up because you don’t have a choice, carefully looking after yourself and attending all appointments until Ozias was safely delivered into the world and swaddled in your arms.

His features aren’t unnoticeable, his teeth and fiery hair just like his father’s, the flames a deeper blue, only just tinged with the colour of your own hair, and those same piercing eyes. He looks so much like him it’s almost frightening, but he’s your son, and the moment he smiles you feel the protectivess that surges within you. Raising Oz alone isn’t easy, feeding him is excruciatingly painful when he’s teething since you can barely afford formula at the start, and you have to try and juggle a full time job with looking after him and giving him all the love and attention he deserves as the years continue to pass and goes from being a baby to a toddler taking his first steps and saying his first word, to a child with his own thoughts, feeling secure that after all these years Idia has moved on.

But he hasn’t. The breakup hits him hard, and he withdraws into himself even more because of it. As someone who only knows disinterest or obsession, you end up falling safely in second category. He never forgot you, but when whispers reach him of a child that looks suspiciously like a Shroud, he doesn’t know how to react.

A child? A CHILD?! You had a baby, his baby, and didn’t even bother to let him know?!

He’s furious at the betrayal, that he’s been denied the chance to even meet his son and that Ortho hasn’t met his nephew. It’s fine, you normies get stuff like this wrong all the time, you all like sleeping around and being single parents and all that stuff, but that’s not going to happen anymore. Soon enough, you, he, and Ozias will all be choosing a baby name together, that should make up for your mistake.

[americaswritings]

Anything for you

Warnings: mean teenagers, a little angst, fluff

Summary: You get bullied at school. Luke feels helpless because he can’t do or say anything. But what he can do is be there for you, which leads to a surprise for the both of you.

Words: 4.6k

Pairing: Ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader

A/N: I recently watched Julie and the phantoms (I can’t believe it was cancelled!! Netflix, what are you doing???) and I fell in love with Luke. I mean who doesn’t, right? He’s just the cutest *intense heart eyes* and have you seen his arms??. Also boy can sing, dance and songwrite so consider me doomed.

Song lyrics are taken from the song “Invisible” by Hunter Hayes. I hope you enjoy!

Add yourself to my taglist!

Masterlist

Luke hadn’t intended to follow you to school. Frankly, he hadn’t planned on ever stepping into a school again. That time of his life was over, a time he missed but knew would never get back. He had come to terms with it, focusing on his music instead.

But from time to time it would hit him; the harsh reality that he would never talk to his parents again, never make up with his mother, never be touched again by someone except the guys from his band. 

It hurt every time these thoughts dawned on him, but he pushed them aside, knowing he needed to be the strong one. The other boys needed him, so he couldn’t afford to be weak in front of them. 

Despite, it didn’t matter anyway. Thinking about all the things he couldn’t do, the life he had missed out on wouldn’t change anything. He had thought he had dealt just fine, but then his birthday had come up. 

He had watched his parents get together, blowing out the candle on the cake they had made while tears slipped down their faces. They held each other’s hands and he just wanted to touch them, hold onto them, and show them they weren’t alone. He was still there.

But he was just a ghost, unable to reach them. It broke his heart, hurt like it hadn’t hurt before.

But then you had showed up. You had given his parents the song he had written for them, for his mother. All the things he regretted saying and all the words that had never left his lips were captured in it, and he watched his mother’s chin tremble and his father sniff as their eyes darted over the page.

He had always known he was drawn to you, not just because you were the only one who could see the boys, but because of your kind heart, your warm smile, and jokes. You were special. He had known that even before he had first heard you sing, before he had read your song writing.

But in that moment, as he watched his family smile fondly through their tears, their pain raw but overtaken by love and a sense of gratitude, you watching them with tears shimmering in your own eyes, he knew he was hopelessly in love with you.

Hopelessly, because even if you liked him too, you could never be together. He couldn’t give you what you needed, what you deserved. Someone you could go out with in public or who you could introduce to your family. Someone to have a future with. 

Someone to touch. He could never take your hand in his, never trail his fingers over your arm or caress your face, never run his fingers through your hair or hold you in his arms. He could never kiss you.

Luke had always been a physical person. His love language was touch, reaching out to someone to show them he was there. It was how he communicated with the other boys, not once thinking or caring how it could make him look.

Because despite his talent to write songs, Luke wasn’t good with words. Not in the moment anyway. He needed to think about them, twist them around in his head until they would form a beautiful prose for a song. 

Not being able to touch you stung. The feeling grew stronger with each passing day, making him more desperate to feel you in some way. The two of you were deeply connected, not just through your music but through something else, something he couldn’t name but the boys would tease him with. Yet something was missing in that connection. Physical contact.

He knew it hurt you too, could see it in the way you reached out to him by accident before letting your hand fall back to your side, a tight smile on your lips as you tried to overplay what had happened.

You were one of the most optimistic people he knew, always trying to look at the bright side of life and giving the boys hope, but he could see you were hurting.

There was something on your mind you weren’t talking about. An invisible weight on your shoulders, you didn’t seem able to lose. He wanted to know what it was, wanted to know what he could do to help you, because seeing you upset hurt him just the same.

But he couldn’t ask you. He knew you would deny it, hide behind your smile again. He had considered going through your things, because there was no way you weren’t putting your feelings into song lyrics somewhere. 

But although he didn’t regret going through your stuff in the beginning, after all it had led to the discovery that you were a songwriter too, a damn talented one, he couldn’t pretend it had been right either.

Over time the two of you had built a trust in each other he didn’t want to lose. Going through your things again, overstepping the line you had drawn, would destroy that trust. Maybe he would even lose you.

So he had to find another way to find out what caused your hurt. Following you around for a whole day had been an idea born out of boredom and a lack of inspiration for a song he was currently stuck on. He knew you, knew what your life was like, but did he really? You spend the first half of each day at school, a place he had never set a foot at.

You had never told the boys they weren’t allowed to show up at school, probably hadn’t thought it necessary to bring up, because they didn’t seem interested in your life as a student at all. So, it was the perfect opportunity for him to sneak past your border without betraying you.

Now, as he was following you into the big building from a distance, he suddenly felt a little nervous. The halls were crowded, filled with students standing at their lockers, making plans for the weekend, and chatting over their exams while heading to their classes. And, of course, gossiping. He hadn’t missed that part of high school.

Seeing you in the middle of them, your books clutched to your chest as you peeked into your locker, reminded him of how different the two of you truly were. You had a real life you had to live, a life aside from the music. You had a future ahead of you, something he would never have.

Luke shook his head as if he could shake those thoughts away. This was about finding out what troubled you, not about him and his own personal issues. You had been there for him through his lowest, now he wanted to do the same for you.

He pushed past the students, ignoring the way he slipped through them instead of bumping into each one. You were just closing your locker as someone walked up to you, a girl he realized, long wavy hair falling over her shoulders. Another girl and a boy joined her and he wondered how many friends you had, friends you couldn’t share with them.

But when you turned around, your eyes falling onto the group standing behind you, he saw you froze. Your jaw clenched and your eyes grew dull, suddenly missing the spark he adored so much. He stepped closer, keeping enough distance so you wouldn’t notice him, but needing to hear what they had to say.

He could see your body slumping under their gazes, the proud posture you had when you were performing replaced by what looked like you were making yourself smaller. 

It was in that moment he realized you were afraid of them, of what they had to say. His heart clenched as he took another step forward, wanting to move to stand by your side but knowing he couldn’t. 

“Hey, (y/n)!” The girl with the long hair spoke up, her voice loud, radiating confidence. You didn't react, waiting for her to continue but he could see you were clutching your books a little tighter, your knuckles turning white.

"I heard you signed up for the talent show." Luke tensed as he heard what this was about.

You were currently practising with the band for the show, the first one you would attend as a band. While Luke doubted it would get them far career wise, considering it was only a school event, he knew how important it was for you and in that sense for the whole band.

You had only recently begun to sing and compose songs again. When the boys had first met you, you had been hesitant to share your passion with them, convinced you weren't good enough.

It had taken them a lot of effort to make you believe in yourself and your abilities. Though music was your passion, it was something very vulnerable for you, something personal you were afraid to share with everyone else.

Luke got that in some way. While he couldn't wait to share a new melody, a new line, or a whole song with everyone who would listen, some lines were harder than others to put out into the world.

Music was his way of dealing with his emotions, a way to let out his feelings and cope with them. You were like him in that way and opening up to someone didn't come easy to either of you.

Writing music was one thing, but sharing such vulnerable lines with everyone else, a world full of people ready to judge, or worse, a school full of teenagers, was another.

So when you had briefly mentioned the talent show, the boys had agreed it was the perfect way for you to start sharing your music with other people than the boys.

It had taken a lot of convincing and a pep talk from Luke he was still proud of to get you to sign up and feel a little hopeful about it. Maybe even a bit excited.

Now he feared everything they had worked so hard on would be crushed by an envious teenage girl and he could only stand by and watch.

“The talent show- that’s a joke, right? I mean, you can’t even sing in front of our music class. Now imagine singing in front of the whole school.” The girl shuddered visibly. “That would be so awkward, am I right?” She turned towards her friends, who nodded eagerly in agreement.

“I am so embarrassed for you just by the fact that you actually thought you stood a chance. (Y/n) and talent show. That are two words that shouldn’t even be in the same sentence together!” She let out a chuckle, her friends joining in.

“That are actually more than two words”, Luke heard you mutter under your breath and although he was churning with rage at the audacity the group had to talk to you like that, he couldn’t help a proud smile creeping onto his face.

The girl sucked in a breath, clearly irritated by your words. “Seems like she’s too dumb to get the message”, she snorted, taking a step closer towards you. Involuntary you stepped back, stumbling a little when your back hit the locker and causing the group to break into laughter.

“You don’t belong here (y/n)! Nobody wants you here, anyway. You’re just taking up space. It’s pathetic! But what is even more pathetic is watching you think you have a chance at the contest, even though you’re literally the most untalented person I know.”

You gulped and Luke could see tears brimming in your eyes. He stepped forward, his hands balled into fists, though he knew it was useless. All he could touch was air.

“When will you finally see the truth like everyone else does? No one likes you and no one will ever like you! Not every duckling will turn into a swan, some just stay, well, ugly and weird." The girl giggled, smoothing down the hem of her dress as she finally stepped away.

“Bye, bye and enjoy your day, loser!”

Tossing her hair she marched away, her friends close on her heels. You were left standing at your locker, your bocks still tightly pressed to your chest as you fought back the tears.

Luke’s heart broke for you; the injustice he had just witnessed making him burn with rage. He hadn’t thought of you as the popular girl, but he had considered you had many friends and secret admirers, since you were funny, smart, kind-hearted, beautiful, and incredibly talented. 

It turned out that those same traits were the reason you were on your own, the other students envying you for them. For your talent. 

Looking at you he was certain this wasn’t the first time something like it had happened and it made him wonder how long this had been going on for. A few days? Weeks? Maybe even months?

How often had you hid behind your smile, had convinced them you were fine when you clearly weren’t?

It frustrated Luke beyond belief that he couldn’t say anything to your defence, tell those bullies just how pathetic it was to try and pull you down by saying such hurtful things. You deserved to have someone by your side, someone who stood up for you and had your back. You shouldn’t be alone. 

But the best he could do was follow those bullies and scare them like they had done to get back at Billy. It didn’t feel enough, felt childish even, now that he thought about it. It might scare them, but it wouldn’t stop them from targeting you. 

Maybe he could write something down, something like a threat so they would stop terrorising you, but there was a risk they would blame you for it. It might only make things worse for you and he didn’t want to take that chance. Not when it came to you.

It pained him to admit how helpless he truly was, but he tried to focus on the one thing he could do instead. He could be there for you.

“Hey.” His voice was soft as he spoke to you, stepping closer towards you. You flinched violently, turning towards him with big eyes. “Luke! What are you doing here?”

You tried to keep your voice down, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that you were speaking with what looked like pure air to everyone else, but he could still hear the alarm in it. 

Luke bit his lip, conflicted over his next words. He wanted to be there for you, not cause you to be even more upset, especially at him. “I um-”, he scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of himself, “I followed you”, he admitted, and he could see the disbelief in your eyes mixed with disappointment.

“Why would you do that?”, you asked wearily, suddenly pulling out your phone and holding it to your ear to mimic a phone call. You had done that before when the three of you had spent a day at the beach together, causing people to look at the girl who was talking to air. 

It seemed to do the trick, because the moment their gazes fell onto the phone in your hands, they lost interest. Luke couldn’t deny he was impressed by it.

“You seemed off the past days. I just wanted to know what was going on. Please don’t be mad.” He was using his heart eyes on you now, something that had gotten him out of trouble countless of times before.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but your eyes visibly softened. “You could have just asked me”, you pointed out, causing him to raise his brows slightly. “Would you have told me the truth?”, he asked, and you bit your lip. “Probably not”, you confessed, and it seemed like you weren’t upset at him anymore.

For a moment it was silent between the two of you, your previous anger now turning into embarrassment. He could tell you were wondering just how much he had witnessed.

“I saw it all”, he clarified for you. He saw your body tense up at his words, your cheeks turning slightly red as you cast your eyes to the ground. You were ashamed, just like you had been when he had first found one of your songs, reading out the lyrics to you to try and prove how beautiful they sounded.

“Are you okay?”, he added gently, taking another step forward but stopping himself from reaching out to you. You nodded, but your eyes didn’t meet his. “I should go to class”, you told him, peaking over his shoulder. He shook his head, falling into step beside you when you walked past him. 

“No, you shouldn’t. You should talk about what just happened.” You didn’t slow down. “Nothing happened so there is nothing to talk about.” “You know that’s not true!”

Luke leaped forward, blocking your way but you just walked through him. “Hey!” He caught up to you, wondering how else he could bring you to a halt. “Can you look at me for a second? Please?”

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, displaying your impatience, but you followed his request. When your eyes met another wave of sadness engulfed you, the tears returning as you were taken aback by his gentle expression. The way he looked at you, so loving and caring, so raw, was what caused cracks in your composure.

You tried to blink the tears away but failed.

The sight of a girl crying might have sent him running in the past. He wasn’t good at dealing with feelings, coped with his own through his music, so he had never trusted himself enough to try to comfort someone. 

He feared he would say the wrong thing, preferred to make jokes to doge the tension that came with heavy emotions, telling himself that Alex could deal with it instead. He was the emotional one, the empathetic one.

But he couldn’t rely on the others all the time. Especially when it came to you, he felt he didn’t want to. He wanted to be the one you trusted enough to open up to, wanted to be the one who could make you feel understood. The person you turned to when things got heavy, who could cheer you up.

He would do anything to get you to smile again, so he decided that was what he was going to do. No more running from his problems, disappearing whenever he felt like it. 

The bell had rung out a while ago, signalling that classes were about to start and the corridors were emptying visibly. 

“Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”, Luke asked, thinking you knew your school better and could lead him to a quiet spot where no one would question a girl talking to thin air.

You nodded, leading him down a few corridors into a dark lit room.

He gazed around, noting you were behind what looked like a stage. He wondered if you had chosen the place by accident, or if it had to do with the upcoming show. 

Either way, being backstage felt different from standing in the crowded hallways and he felt himself relax a little. Here he felt much more like himself again.

You sat down onto the floor, leaning your back against the wall, and hugging your knees into your chest. He had thought he would have to convince you to skip class, but it seemed you didn’t care anymore. When he looked down at you, you looked so small and fragile, so different from the person you were when you were performing.

Luke slid into the spot next to you, careful not to brush against you but not leaving much space between the two of you. He wanted to be there for you as much as he could and that included being as close as possible. 

“You know that’s not true, right?” He didn’t miss a second, didn’t try to beat around the bush. “What that girl said to you...she just wanted to get to you, make you feel insecure and bad about yourself! “

You looked up at him, a few tears running down your cheeks. “But she’s right”, you sniffed, your voice breaking a little. “No one wants me here. I don’t belong here.”

Luke frowned, fidgeting at the energy that came with the urge to convince you otherwise and get through to you. “That’s so far from the truth!”

You peeked up at him through your tears. “Really? Then how come no one in this school cares about me. I don’t even have real friends here.”

“You have us”, Luke offered, but you shook your head. “That doesn’t count. You’re ghosts.” He flinched a little at your words and your face immediately twisted in regret. 

“I didn’t mean it that way. You know how grateful I am for you. You make my life so much better. The band, the music we make...it feels like it’s giving me a purpose again. But I have another life too, one where I can’t rely on my ghost friends.”

Luke nodded slowly, knowing you were right. Although he felt the drive to tell you to screw everything and just focus on music, the rational part of him knew that other things in your life mattered too. 

That was the difference between the two of you: you had a life outside of the music while his life was his music. 

“I don’t know if I can perform at the talent show. Not when everyone wants me to fail.” You sniffed again and Luke gulped as your pain settled in his own chest. 

“Those girls want you to fail because they feel threatened by how amazing you are. How gifted! That’s why you gotta show them what you got during the show. And I guarantee you, afterwards everyone will see your talent and want to be your friend.”

“You sound so sure about it”, you chuckled, wiping at your tears and Luke smiled proudly at you. “That’s because I am.”

You tilted your head at him, curiosity written over your face. “How can you always be so sure about everything?” The smile spread over his lips easily, lighting up his face.

“You’re smart, funny, and selfless. You’re beautiful and insanely talented! They just haven’t seen that yet. Of course, everyone will want to be friends with you once they realize that! That’s how I know.” His smile had turned from a goofy one into a fond one, but he didn’t try to hide it. 

Your tears had stopped flowing and you were looking at him like you were in awe, something he hoped was a sign he wasn’t screwing this up entirely. 

But as you kept staring at him, not saying a word he suddenly felt his nerves flare up again. Perhaps he had been too quick with his assessment, and he had said something wrong. 

But what? 

He wrecked his brain for anything, but his pounding heart and your eyes on him were making it hard to think straight. Just as he wanted to ask you, if he had said something wrong, your blinked, your lips turning up into one of your smiles, which always filled him with warmth. 

“Thank you, Luke!” Your eyes were bright as you looked at him, and he couldn’t help but return your smile with one of his own. “Anything for you”, he muttered, turning his torso so he was now sitting next to you, head leant against the wall and facing the backside of the stage.

It was quiet for a moment, but not in a way which longed for words. It was a silence that felt comfortable and put him at ease, his mind wandering off to form words into lines in his head. 

You sat like that for a while, both of you engulfed by a peaceful silence that allowed him to write the beginning of a song in his head. It was so easy, the words coming to him without an effort, and he could feel himself growing excited as the first part began to come together.

Luke was so caught up in his head, in the lines he was rearranging in his head, that he didn’t feel the weight on his shoulder. Just as he decided his idea was worth sharing, he snapped back into reality, a reality where your head was resting on his shoulder.

“(Y/n)! Oh my god!”, he breathed, not wanting to startle you but not being able to hide his excitement. “What?”, you muttered, seemingly unwilling to give up your comfortable position. “You didn’t slip through me!”

You furrowed your brows, but a second later your eyes flew open, your head shooting up as you looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t slip through you!”, you repeated, the excitement he felt mirrored in your voice.

“Oh my god Luke! This is- this is huge!” You stared at each other in shock, suddenly unable to form coherent sentences. “I felt you and you were warm!”, you gushed, and he couldn’t contain his big smile. “I felt you too!”

He didn’t care that you were grinning at each other like idiots, didn’t care how it was possible, he could only focus on the pure happiness he felt. He slowly reached out, taking your hand into his. It was soft and warm.

You shared another look, both of you beaming with excitement at the newfound connection. “Can I?”, Luke asked as he slowly reached for your face. You nodded, both of you holding your breath as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before running his fingers over your cheek.

He could see the tears in your eyes again, but your smile told him they were happy tears, something he didn’t have to worry about. When he lowered his hand, it was your turn to reach out, taking his face gently into your hands. 

Tears sprung to his eyes as he felt your warm fingertips on his cheeks, the softest touch on his cheekbones. “How is this possible?”, you whispered, but he didn’t care, didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing this again.

The relief he felt at being able to touch you was so big he doubted he would be able to let go of you anytime soon. How could he, if the next time he tried to touch you he could slip right past you again?

But you didn’t seem to mind as you let go of his face only to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. He didn’t hesitate to lock his arms behind your upper back, pulling you into his chest. He couldn’t believe he was holding you, holding another person, someone who was alive.

What did it mean for him? Was there a chance for him at a life again?

His thoughts were racing, so he tried to focus on one thing, the one that had brought him peace just moments ago. “I just wrote something in my head”, he whispered against your hair. “You wanna heart it?” 

“Yes!” He smiled to himself before growing serious again as he focused on the words. 

“So your confidence is quiet 

To them, quiet looks like weakness 

But you don't have to fight it 

'Cause you're strong enough to win without a war 

Every heart has a rhythm 

Let yours beat out so loudly 

That everyone can hear it 

Yeah, I promise you don't need to hide it anymore 

Oh, and never be afraid of doing something different 

Dare to be something more.”

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Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

[robininthelabyrinth]

CQL-verse! The characters have the same age gaps between them as their actors and actresses! Wwx and Jyl are the same age, jc is 5 years younger than them. Lxc is 3 years younger than wwx&jyl and lwj is 3 years younger than him. Nmj is two years older than wwx&jyl and nhs is 8 years younger than him and the same age as lwj. (1/2)

Meng Yao is 2 years older than nhs and jzx is 2 years older than MY. I'm leaving the Wen Sibs out of this because otherwise WN would be the same age as wwx and WQ would be 4 years younger than him. But hey! If you want to go with that, go crazy! I was thinking more of Yunmeng Sibs focus, but I will be happy with anything! (2/2)

ao3

Untamed

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect to the point of death and war, but he had always had trouble hating sad and gentle Wen Ning.

Wen Ning was technically his peer – there were only two years between them in age – and therefore capable of the same sorts of responsibilities and duties towards righteousness as Nie Mingjue, meaning that he ought to hate him as much as all the rest. But at the same time, Wen Ning was only part of the main branch family indirectly, a ward of Wen Ruohan; he was constantly suppressed and even tormented by Wen Chao, the eldest son of that family. If anything, it seemed almost as if he’d been brought into the family just to act as the family’s scapegoat, the inferior copy that was so hapless that he made that self-indulgent hedonist Wen Chao appear somewhat competent in contrast.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t imagine treating any of his own cousins that way.

He and Wen Chao were often compared, both being about the same age, and their young brothers were of similar age as well, both of them only fourteen; this juxtaposition made sure that every single person in the cultivation world talk of them in the same breath. Nie Mingjue always came out the better in the comparison, and Wen Xu the same for his, which in the minds of most people balanced out, but which caused Wen Chao no end of rage. He knew he couldn’t take out his anger on the talented Wen Xu and so took out on poor Wen Ning instead.

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect.

He did not hate Wen Ning.

Wen Ning, who should not be here.

“Please,” Wen Ning said, nearly in tears, as he threw himself down to the floor in front of Nie Mingjue. He’d burst into the room in the inn Nie Mingjue was staying at, the guards that no sect leader could do without no matter what they wanted following close behind in alarm until Nie Mingjue had waved them off with a gesture; he’d been panting so hard that he’d only just now caught his breath. “Please help this useless older brother do one good thing with his life.”

Alarmed, Nie Mingjue reached out and caught Wen Ning by the shoulders, pulling him to stand and even forgetting himself enough to reach forward with a sleeve to dab away the tears staining the other man’s face.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling anxiety curdling in his gut. He’d spoken with Wen Ning before during the discussion conferences, both when he was younger and even, in a few stolen moments, after he became sect leader; he knew Wen Ning had a steady personality, if a weak one from all the bullying he endured, and that he was not given to unnecessary hysterics. If he could tolerate Wen Chao’s endless torment with a faint smile and a don’t worry sect leader Nie once you’re used to it it’s more funny than anything else, then what could make him act like this? “What is that you need help with? I do not understand.”

Wen Ning looked tired. He always had, his health had always been poor, but now it seemed worse than ever; there were circles under his eyes, and Nie Mingjue had no idea how he’d managed to get away from the Nightless City to come find him. The town he was currently in was close to the border the Qinghe Nie shared with Qishan Wen, but it was still an effort, especially for someone like Wen Ning. He might be a member of the Wen family by name, but his freedom was significantly curtailed, and it wasn’t only because he was sickly.

“My little sister is going to be attending the lectures at the Cloud Recesses,” Wen Ning said.

“The - Lan sect lectures?” Nie Mingjue repeated blankly. It was a stupid thing to say; of course it was the Lan sect’s lectures, who else would give lectures at the Cloud Recesses? And yet, at the same time – “The Wen sect hasn’t gone to them in generations.”

“Sect Leader Wen asked A-Qing to look for something,” Wen Ning said. “I don’t know what. He talks to her more than he talks to me, when she’s treating him with acupuncture and other such things – he only wants blood relations treating him now, so she’s passing along what she can do, the doctors all say she’s talented – he told her something, I think, but I don’t know what, he doesn’t talk to me…and she doesn’t talk to me, either.”

“She’s sixteen, they’re like that,” Nie Mingjue said, trying to offer comfort, but he didn’t like the sound of that – Wen Ruohan growing reliant on the medical skills of a teenager, talking with her as if she were an adult…it didn’t speak well to the Chief Cultivator’s state of mind. “So she’s going to go spy on them?”

“She is. And maybe more. There’s – there’s something back in the Nightless City, something Sect Leader Wen is refining in order to increase his power. Whatever it is, it’s powerful and evil.” Wen Ning looked paler than usual, somehow. “It was something that was kept in a cave near our village when we were younger, once. Sect Leader Wen took it away to study, and it made something go crazy, I got hurt, and my parents – anyway, it doesn’t matter. I can’t go near it without losing my senses, so I really don’t know anything about it. But I know that Sect Leader Wen only has a piece – and the Lan sect has another.”

Lan Xichen had never mentioned such a thing, but then again, he wasn’t really old enough that Nie Mingjue would expect him to know everything about his sect – he was after all a full five years younger than Nie Mingjue, three years younger than Wen Ning; he was still only seventeen, having only just graduated from his uncle’s classes the year before. He was only very technically sect leader, in the same way Nie Mingjue had only been technically sect leader after his father’s death, although unlike Lan Xichen Nie Mingjue had fought his way to step up to the task for real early on. He himself was only barely considered an adult at the age of twenty-two; it was no surprise that in the Lan sect, which had Lan Qiren to rely on, Lan Xichen might not know it all.

Or perhaps he knew, and simply didn’t say. Each sect was entitled to its secrets.

“What are you thinking?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“I’m thinking that my sister is constantly afraid for me, even though she’s younger than me,” Wen Ning said solemnly. “I’m thinking that she will break her own principles into pieces to protect me. I’m thinking that she’ll find whatever it is, or find a hint to it, and then Wen Chao will take his forces to burn the Cloud Recesses to the ground in search of it.”

Nie Mingjue could see that.

He didn’t want to, but he could.

“My brother is attending those lectures,” he said blankly. Nie Huaisang was there right now. He could be in danger – no, he would be in danger. Nie Huaisang wasn’t a good cultivator, and at fourteen, he was just a baby. Nie Mingjue had sent Meng Yao with him, nominally as his attendant, but in fact to get the benefit of the classes himself and also bully Nie Huaisang into actually learning something – he’d brought Meng Yao into the Nie sect after Jin Zixuan, full of guilt over how his father had treated a boy only two years his junior, had sent him a letter beseeching him for help following Meng Yao’s public and humiliating rejection from Jinlin Tower – but Meng Yao was only sixteen, of age with Wen Qing; what could he really do?

Moreover, sending Wen Qing and not Wen Xu, even though Wen Xu was the same age as Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji, indicated that Wen Ruohan didn’t want his more promising son to get involved in whatever it was that he was planning, or maybe in whatever consequences followed. If Wen Chao really were to try something violent, they couldn’t afford to have a weakness already there…

“I need to get A-Qing out of the Wen sect,” Wen Ning said, and Nie Mingjue turned to look at him in shock. “Permanently. I’ve begged her to go, but she won’t leave me, she won’t leave our family of the Dafan Wen, but she has to. Something bad is going to happen soon. I know it. I don’t mind trading my life for hers, but she has to live.”

“Is there any way you can go to the Cloud Recesses as well?” Nie Mingjue asked, his mind already racing. He’d long ago given up on helping Wen Ning because he knew the other man wouldn’t turn traitor against his family, being an upright and filial child, but if his family had reached such a depth of corruption as that, then it was only right to leave them behind. If Wen Ning was finally accepting that, maybe there was something he could do. “You’re sensitive to the – whatever it is. Right? Maybe Wen Qing can suggest bringing you around to help her find her way to it.”

“How would that help?”

“It gets you somewhere safe, while I can rescue Dafan Wen – without a threat to you or to them, your sister would have no reason to insist on staying,” Nie Mingjue said, though it wouldn’t be him, exactly, that did the rescue – he’d need a firm alibi lest Wen Ruohan use it as an excuse to start something with his Nie sect. He might have prepared for war as much as he could, but the Wen sect was still stronger; if war broke out, he needed to make sure that he had the moral high ground.

Luckily, Wei Wuxian, that walking calamity of a head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, had of late developed the habit of wandering over to visit various other sects, including Qinghe (and Nie Mingjue in specific), at his leisure, and no one ever would think to blame him for such a strange thing as a subsidiary sect of distant Wen sect cousins disappearing.

After all, Wei Wuxian had no reason to know or care about the Dafan Wen, and everyone knew he abjured politics completely, violently and repetitively, so as to make no mistake about anyone who might otherwise see him as competition for the Jiang sect’s true heir, Jiang Cheng. The five-year gap between their ages kept them from being compared – you couldn’t expect a child, and at fifteen Jiang Cheng was still very much a child, to keep up with an adult just turned twenty like Wei Wuxian – but there had always been whispers given everything with Cangse Sanren, and Wei Wuxian had had to work very hard to put a stop to them.

Wei Wuxian’s wandering habit had started back when he’d been trying to find Jiang Yanli a new fiancée to replace the engagement he’d broken by fighting with Jin Zixuan, however shameful it was for him to fight with a boy two years his junior. It was for that that he had come to Qinghe to meet Nie Mingjue, leading to them hitting it off as friends despite Nie Mingjue expressing that he had absolutely no interest in getting married to Jiang Yanli, or indeed to any nice young lady at all; then, in turn, Nie Mingjue had brought him to the Lan sect to meet Lan Xichen. They’d gotten along as well, although the most notable outcome of that visit had been little Lan Wangji developing a crush on his elder brother’s new friend while Wei Wuxian remained blissfully oblivious. His wanderings had continued even after Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had found their way back to each other, affianced once again through their own choice rather than their parents’.

Said parents had not yet been informed of this new situation, as they were waiting for the right time to mention it. Or perhaps more accurately, the right situation to exploit with it…

Now, Nie Mingjue thought. Now was the time. It would work perfectly.

And not just as a distraction.

“Are you sure…?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said. “Whatever it is, Wen Ruohan must be kept from obtaining all of the pieces; he’s already too powerful, and more power will only make him more arrogant. I’ll speak with Lan Qiren. Once I take the Dafan Wen back to the Nie sect, your sister will be able to testify to whatever it is that she was asked to search for, which will give Lan Qiren the evidence he needs to get his sect’s approval for retaliatory measures. Moreover, using Wei Wuxian to help me will force Jiang Fengmian to support me as well; there’s no way he’d ever refuse to back him to the hilt.”

“The Jin sect –”

“Will join us,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan’s yet-to-be-announced engagement. Once Jin Guangshan realized that he would be pulled into the same boat as the rest of them whether he wanted to or not, any resistance he had would crumble like a structure made of sand being beaten down by the tide. “They won’t have a choice. Is there anything else I should know?”

“There’s a child,” Wen Ning said, biting his lips. “Around the same age as your brother or my sister, or maybe the Jiang sect heir, I don’t know, around that. He helps Sect Leader Wen with whatever he’s doing.”

“A child helps him?”

Nie Mingjue didn’t like the sound of that.

“I don’t know. Some secret his family knows, I think…his surname is Xue.”

Nie Mingjue frowned.

“I don’t know much about him,” Wen Ning added. “Only that he has some history with the Yueyang Chang clan. Bad history.”

“That’s a good start,” Nie Mingjue said. He realized that he hadn’t yet released Wen Ning’s shoulders, and gave them a small squeeze before doing so. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will do everything I can to help you.”

Wen Ning looked at him with admiration in his eyes, making Nie Mingjue feel a little hot under the collar.

“Thank you, Chifeng-zun,” he murmured, and Nie Mingjue shook his head.

“Call me by name,” he said, and tried to smile. “You’ll be here a lot in the future, if all goes well.”

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect, but he didn’t hate gentle and sad Wen Ning.

He didn’t hate him at all.

[red-doll-face]

Hey I love reading your Thomas Hewitt stories and I was wondering if you can write one with Thomas Hewitt being a dom and a little with his female s/o if your comfortable writing it or you can do a Thomas Hewitt and female s/o where they grew up with each other and she had to leave for because of her parents and a couple years later she comes back and surprises him and the family ☺️😅

It’s not that im not up for it I just wasn’t sure if u wanted nsfw or fluff but the second prompt was a bit more clear, if you’re still interested in the first maybe send me a few more details and I’ll see what I can do ! Sorry this took forever to write 🥲

WC: 1285

Warnings; nothing much this is sort of fluffy , mentions of bullying and blood

Thomas B. Hewitt x gn Reader

One and Only

“C’mon, come play with us!” Blonde summer hair bounced around with all of the other girls on the school ground, the other girls with their dresses and bobby socks. Your mother, a dutiful teacher at the school made you wear clothes that seemed to fit right in with them but no matter what she dressed you in, you never were enthusiastic about playing with them.

“Yeah, leave the dumb ugly boy crying in the ditch.” They laughed, cruelly. Your brows furrowed.

“But he’s bleeding.” You mutter and they boo you and blow raspberries at you.

“Who cares, he’s so ugly,” They chitter and some become uninterested enough to wander away. Your heart bleeds like he does as you begin to climb into the ditch he was tossed in. This was the worst anyone had ever done to poor Tommy B. Hewitt. His face was scarred and flaky, thus the target of every person with a mean bone in their body. Girls and boys would poke at him. Prod him like a circus attraction.

“Tommy? Where’s your mama?” He sobs in the ditch, blood from tumbling over sharp things dripping down the tan skin of his arm. Your pressed white shirt has a brown smudge on it already. He never answers that question. You don't say anything either for a moment, watching him heave. You try to help him up but he’s too heavy for you to carry up the steep slope. He must have dirt all over his face. Dirt all over your shoes. You frown and look at the ridge of the hole you're in. His mama’ll never see him from up there. He might never go home. You couldn't imagine him laying in the ditch behind the schoolyard all night, his poor mama crying out for him and he none the wiser. Sleeping in the dirt. You know what his mama looks like. So, you wait on top of the ridge. Eventually, Tommy’s mama comes around.

“You seen my son, child?”

“Yes, Ms.Hewitt. He’s in there. The older boys beat him and pushed him in. Can’t get him out anyhow. I tried.” You point towards the boy. Small for someone so big for his age. His papa must be the size of Mt. Rushmore. The woman gasps and stumbles down the incline.

“You rotten things! My baby down here bleedin’!” She helps her son to stand and you finally see his face. It is indeed covered in dirt and tears. The red scarring raises over the lower half of his face. Tommy sees you looking and he chokes back a sob, letting his head bow to face the ground. His mama can’t quite get him out either so you help her tug him up. His ankle might have gotten hurt. The woman, though judging you as one of the children who tormented her son, thanks you.

“You do this to my son?” She glares down at you and you shake your head.

“Good.”

Tommy’s family has a plantation a few miles away from the town and many a mile away from the slaughterhouse. You and your mama live in the area. Mama sometimes goes down to give Luda Mae, Tommy’s mama, some books for Tommy. She won’t let him go to school no more seeing as how they nearly broke her son's leg. You go down with her, no one to look after you at the house. You hide behind her skirt but she shoos you away to go play with Tommy. She and Ms. Luda Mae talk about tea and rancher’s gossip. Tommy’s in the parlor. Bits of fabric and a tin full of needles sit on the floor with him. You tilt your head.

“What’re you doing?” You speak and he startles. He looks like he might cry again and you're not sure what to do. You watch as he shrinks in on himself. You kneel down next to him, picking up a thread he had cut and a needle.

“Need help threading it?” He fumbles and snatches the items. He tries to show you he can do it, quickly becoming frustrated. He hadn’t the tact for it but it could be learned.

“Here,” you show him your trick, placing the bristled thread between your lips for a second, then slipping it easily in the eye. You pull it out and tell him to try. He slowly copies your actions and you smile.

You remember the Hewitt boy fondly. You remember him when he was his happiest. Unfortunately, your mother couldn't afford to live in the town anymore after her work dried up and the water followed behind. She had found a job in Dallas, as her child you went where she did. You were sad that you had to leave poor Tommy B. Hewitt behind, you knew you were the only friend he ever had.

Now, you live in Dallas, looking after your mother. She teaches kids piano and you work in the city. Your mother one day mentions the quaint country house you used to live in and you decide to go see if it's still standing. Driving down the dusty roads brings back memories of simpler days. You remember, suddenly the sullen face of Tommy too. He had been so sad to see you drive away. You waved at him.

The plantation house is still there. A lot dingier and darker than you could recall. You fear for a moment that it's abandoned but there are signs of life. You carefully walk up to the porch, knowing Tommy’s uncle had set traps to catch varmint all of the time. You make it and knock. The weathered face of Ms. Luda Mae answers, looking surprised and then her face sours.

“If it ain't the city slicker.” She furrows her brow, glasses on beads pulled up to rest on the tip of her nose.

“Hi Ms. Luda Mae. How’ve you been?” You try to be friendly but she appears to be resistant to your smile and warm tone.

“Fine, just fine. You?” It’s southern politeness, she doesn't seem an ounce interested.

“Good, I haven't been down here since-”

“Since you left. Broke my only son’s heart, you did.” You frown. You hadn’t meant to but you won't fill your mouth with excuses. She knows why you left.

“Tommy’s still around?”

“Yup. I’m not sure he’ll want to see you. I’ll call him over anyway.” She closes the door a moment and shuffles off into her house. You stand patiently, waiting. Lumbering footsteps approach the door and stop. Nervous maybe. You don’t call out to him, soon the creak of the door assures you he does want to see you.

“Hi Tom-” He picks you up and hoists you in a hug. You gasp, his arms tightening around your middle. He’s grown up now, you can tell. He’s tall and built like a brick house. He places you down after a moment, hands on your shoulders as if to make sure you’re real. To make sure you’ll stay. He has a mask on to cover a face you’ve already seen.

“Tommy B. Hewitt, do you remember me?” He nods and looks down on you with those familiar brown eyes.

“Your mama said I broke your heart. That true?” He averts his eyes in embarrassment. Looking rather sheepish for a man the size of a bull. He doesn't indicate any form of yes. You comfort him anyway.

“I’m sorry Tommy. Wasn't a thing I could do. Do you forgive me?” He nods after a moment.

“Fill me in on what’s happening round here?” He nods again, eagerly gripping your hand in his own, tugging you inside of the old plantation house..

This one isn’t very exciting and is sort of long but I hope u like it ! Thanks for the req ! 😳🥰

[soupthatistohot]

Sk8 headcannons because brainrot

- Langa doesn't know how to swim except the doggy paddle

- Reki wanted a dog as s kid so badly that he made an entire presentation about it for his parents and got his sister involved, too. They had to tell him no, because they couldn't afford it and because dogs require a lot of attention. Reki wouldn't speak to his mother for two days.

- Reki has definitely tried to skateboard in high heels before and he definitely failed

- Miya's YouTube recommended page consists solely of playthroughs and theories for his favorite RPGs

- Kojiro was a pokemon kid

- Langa had braces in middle school but hardly anyone noticed because of how quiet he was. His mouth was almost always closed, and he smiled with his mouth closed for photos, so there is no photo documentation that he ever even had braces

- Langa doesn't take a lot of photos, not at all. If he does, it's of nature or whatever. He has, like, one photo of him and Reki in his phone.

- Reki takes more videos than photos. If vine was around when he was a teen, he definitely would've made a viral video

- Kaoru got the first piercing because Kojiro dared him to, thinking he wouldn't actually do it. After that he just kept getting them because he thought they looked cool. (Though he definitely did that first piercing himself and it got infected. He went to tattoo parlors after that)

- the only person in the past five years who has seen Kaoru in anything but a yukata (or similar traditional clothing) is Kojiro. Apparently Kaoru wears shorts in his own home occasionally.

- Reki has long eyelashes

- Reki always has to remind Langa to wear sunscreen, even on cloudy days. Langa did NOT inherit any genes from his mother that would allow him to tan, and thus was constantly either a) white as a sheet or b) red as a tomato

- as soon as Koyomi learned what "gay" was, she looked at Reki and Langa and decided that they were secretly dating (they were not, but she wasn't that far off, it was just mutal pining!)

- Reki knows that airpods are useful and convenient and he can definitely afford them but refuses to ever buy them

- Reki likes grape flavored popsicles and Langa and Miya agree that this is a crime against humanity

- Miya loves sour candy and once made Reki and Langa eat seven warheads at once with him. He was majorly unaffected, but the other two actually physically damaged their tastebuds

- Miya eats lemons in restaurants (including Sia La Luce, and it drives Kojiro crazy)

- Miya doesn't like lemonade, though. It's too sugary.

- Before "S", Hiromi's persona of Shadow lived online as an internet troll

- Langa gets weirdly invested in internet drama even though he doesn't know the first thing about the people they're about (he could tell you the whole timeline of the Tati and James Charles drama tho)

- Reki's English writing is just as bad as Langa's Kanji, and they try to help each other with it but get a little frustrated

- While Miya has great grades in school, it's not because it comes easily to him (like skating). He actually works really hard, and he struggles the most with reading and writing. His favorite class is art.

- Kojiro is a truth serum drunk

- Reki really likes sunflowers, and just flowers in general. He'd probably never say it out loud to anyone but Hiromi or maybe Langa, but he just thinks they're pretty and appreciates their beauty.

- Langa is not a picky eater, but he will, under NO circumstances, eat anything with mustard on it.

- Kojiro taught himself how to braid hair in middle school using Kaoru's hair (he very reluctantly let Kojiro do this)

- Langa used to have a lisp as a child, but he eventually grew out of it

- Reki has glasses with a fairly weak prescription that he just doesn't use (they're supposed to be "just for school" but he really cannot be bothered. plus, he heard that if you don't wear glasses when you need them that your vision won't worsen and might even improve)

- Kojiro not only speaks fluent Italian, but also is proficient in French and even speaks English well enough to get his point across

- Reki loved reading American comic books as a kid. It was just too bad that he had no clue what the dialogue was. He'd try to come up with the dialogue himself, though, and his mom would always find him muttering to himself in various voices when reading

- Reki's headband was a gift from Oka

- Almost anyone in Reki's school could call him their friend, but he never really hung out with anyone (but his other friend who used to skate) until Langa came along

- Langa is a good dancer, Reki... is not (but he has fun!)

- Kaoru can break dance, but no one but Kojiro knows this (for now)

- Miya never has a huge growth spurt like everyone expects him to, he remains below average in height

- Reki doesn't watch a lot of shows, but he LOVES Avatar: the Last Airbender (I assume that show has been translated into Japanese??)

- Langa straightened Reki's hair once with his mother's iron. He burned both his ears multiple times

- Miya actually has a convoluted haircare routine

- Kojiro got Kaoru into the habit of always carrying around lip balm with him (whenever Kaoru would ask to borrow his, he would make an indirect kissing joke. eventually Kaoru just got his own)

- Reki definitely had a crush on the friend that taught him to skate and just did not realize it at the time because he thought he only liked girls

- Reki sleeps under his sheets and blanket all year round

- Langa had terrible acne in his early teen years and he was an early bloomer

- Reki had a tooth gap before he got braces

- Miya wears Invisalign, Reki and Langa insist that he’ll never know the torture that was having braces and remark how “kids these days” have it so easy

- Langa is good at history, mostly because he has a decent memory

- Kojiro got homesick very often when he was in culinary school in Italy, and he called his parents every Sunday

- Langa had a kindergarten girlfriend who was absolutely heartbroken when Langa told her that he just wasn’t that interested. She threw a temper tantrum and punched Langa in the face.

- Hiromi was in a long-term relationship with a girl in high school, but they broke up when she left for college. It took him a while to recover.

- Hiromi is better at mariokart than Miya and it pisses him off

- no one wants to be in the room when Kaoru and Kojiro play mariokart against each other

- Reki got sick a lot as a kid, usually just the common cold (which was kind of ironic given the climate he grew up in)

- Langa never really held anyone’s hand (not since he was a literal child, anyway) until he met Reki. He then discovered that he liked having his hand held

- Kaoru wears eyeliner to “S”

- it takes Langa a few months to really start to unpack his boxes and decorate his room when he moves to Okinawa

[pumpkin-spice-whump]

Punishment

CWs: bbu, ocd, anxiety, aftermath of home invasion, burns, belting, smoking, mentions of child endangerment, bad parenting, fear of noncon, references to noncon (both brief)

Follow up to All His Fault

Masterlist

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They caught the men that same night. Two guys only a few years older than Jesse (probably), hopped up on drugs and trying to make quick money. Jesse had to stop crying as the police arrived and it left him feeling expectant and worn out. More than he usually was anyway.

Mrs. Perez stuck around for hours afterwards, taking care of the girls and cleaning up while Jesse answered questions and was told to take it easy because of his concussion. All he wanted to do was sleep for a day and a half with Abi and Eva and Harper next to him, so he knew they were safe.

Mr. and Mrs. Bakeman were called. Mr. Bakeman already had a flight scheduled for the next day and would be home by that afternoon. Mrs. Bakeman didn’t pick up the phone, even after four calls from the police and two from Mrs. Perez. Jesse just had to trust that she was alright and would come home soon.

By the time the police and paramedics left, it was nearing four in the morning. All three girls were passed out on the couch, tear tracks drying on their red cheeks. Jesse was absolutely exhausted, but was told he couldn’t sleep for a few more hours.

It had all been his fault. The break in, the damage, the fear the girls went through. All of it happened because of him, he just knew it. If he had done it right that morning then nothing bad would’ve happened and they’d all still be in bed, peaceful and rested. Would they even be safe at school now? The thought of them being out of his sight for even a minute made his heart beat faster, his face get hot. The guilt made his stomach hurt like it never had before. His head was empty of any real thoughts besides fear and guilt and sickness. He reached up and twisted his collar four times, the slight pain from his chafed skin not meaning anything to him.

He felt like an old dam covered in cracks. Everything was so so close to crumbling and breaking through, and he kind of wanted to just end the stress and the anticipation and let it. But he knew that if he broke and allowed everything inside him to get out, he wouldn’t be able to reverse it. All the things he wanted to say and scream and cry and break would be out in the world, painful and uncontained. The girls and his owners would drown in it, like a town built too close to the water. He wouldn’t be able to pull them away from what he had inside of him. But Jesse was drowning in it now, and there was no one to even try to pull him out.

A single tear fell down his cheek. He took a shuddering breath and wiped it away with the back of his hand. He couldn’t afford to let it out.

“Jesse?”

Jesse jumped. He’d forgotten that Mrs. Perez was still there, Harper in her arms. When did she pick her up? He needed to pay them better attention.

“I know it’s a silly question right now but… are you alright? Do you need anything?”

No, she couldn’t ask that, he couldn’t think about it. If he thought about it then his throat would close up and his face would burn and his hands would shake and he’d start to cry and scream and beg and curse and he couldn’t break down. He wasn’t supposed to.

He put on a sad excuse for a smile and nodded. He couldn’t trust himself to speak.

Mrs. Perez only frowned, setting Harper on the couch with a pillow in front of her. Jesse eyed that nervously.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” she said quietly. “What happened was horrible. You must’ve been so scared, but you did really well. You… you really were a good boy.”

Oh no.

His chin dimpled as his lower lip began to tremble. Tears blurred his vision. Even with his awful guilt and fear and hot, growing panic, the words ‘good boy’ still made something positive bloom in his tight chest.

Maybe it would be okay to let a little out. Maybe the dam wouldn’t have so much pressure if he let just a bit seep through the cracks. That wouldn’t break anything… right?

“Oh, honey…” Mrs. Perez took him and wrapped him in a warm hug, which made the tears finally fall, his chest constricting with a sob. “It’ll be alright. Just let it out.”

Not all of it, he told himself. Just some. Just so you stop shaking so hard.

So he held tightly to their elderly next door neighbor and sobbed into her shoulder in an attempt to lessen the weight on him. He hated being alone all the time, the primary caretaker for three young girls. But he also hated when his owners were home because they hurt him and violated him and didn’t even care for their children or help at all and Jesse was getting sick and tired of it and he just wanted to take a break or leave and never --

No. No that’s bad. This is what he was made for, he needed to love it. He wasn’t supposed to want anything else. He was such a bad, failed pet. He couldn’t do anything right, even the only thing he was meant to do on this earth.

Jesse forced himself to catch his breath and stop crying, his chest still moving with little aborted gasps for air. He wiped away his tears and sniffed, avoiding Mrs. Perez’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly, voice still shaking, “but I’m fine. We… we’re fine. Thank you for all your help. You can, um, you can go home… if you want. It’s late.”

“It’s okay, hon. I can stay until the sun come out, it won't be so scary then.” She sat back, eyeing Jesse intensely. “It was a lot, wasn’t it?”

Yes. It was awful and horrifying and it was more than I’ve ever wanted to deal with. I was scared that the girls would be hurt or worse and I don’t think I would be able to keep going if that had happened.

“We survived,” he said instead. “Mr. and Mrs. Bakeman will be home soon, and they caught the men who did it. The girls will be fine.”

“And you, Jesse?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you be fine?”

Jesse put aside all his thoughts and feelings and smiled, just like he was taught to. “Yes. I’ll be fine, thank you for asking.”

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Mr. Bakeman arrived home around 1 pm. Abigail and Eva ran out to meet him while Jesse waited in the doorway with Harper. He looked disheveled in a way Jesse had never seen before, an anger brewing underneath the surface that was not at all like his strange, calculated cool.

He gave Jesse a scathing look while the girls went inside. As he leaned in to take Harper he whispered, “The den. Tonight.”

The rest of the day was stressful but went relatively smoothly. Mrs. Bakeman called not too much later, she was a couple towns over and would get there as soon as she could. The girls were fine, they just wanted their parents. Mr. Bakeman sat with them while making calls to insurance companies and lawyers and police, while Jesse finished cleaning the house. Mrs. Bakeman arrived and pretended to look like a shocked and worried mother, but Jesse knew that she was wearing the same clothes she left in two days ago, and that she was horribly hungover. So, on the outside, everything was fine.

Jesse kind of wanted to jump off the roof.

No he didn’t. Why would he think that? That’s insane. No, he just… really didn’t want tonight to come. He’d had to step into the bathroom three times to try to freaking breathe because the anticipation of his first real punishment was killing him. Everything he did was with shaky hands and a pounding heart and tears almost ready to fall. People talked around him and to him and he couldn’t really hear any of it over the buzzing in his head and the blood rushing in his ears. He moved through the day not really aware of anything surrounding him except for the words The den. Tonight.

It was already clear that Mr. Bakeman didn’t care for Jesse's well-being at all. That was fine, and Jesse didn’t really deserve to be cared about, since he kept screwing everything up. Plus what he did at night with his wife…

Jesse shook the thoughts away. Nope. Not right now.

Mr. Bakeman has hurt Jesse plenty of times during the nights his friends come over -- kicks and burns and hits and once he allowed Tiny to crush Jesse’s finger under his heavy boot -- but he hadn’t punished Jesse yet. He hadn’t taken him aside, just the two of them, and made him better through learning with pain.

But now it was happening. Tonight. And Jesse really really deserved it. And the thought made his whole body feel hot and detached and weird and he just didn’t want night time to come and he wished he could be a good pet and do what he needed to and he wished he was good last night but he wasn’t and now bad things have happened and will happen and oh no was he gonna be sick all over the clean floors --

When did it get dark outside?

Okay. The girls were put to bed. The house was cleaned. The locks on the doors and the windows were checked and double checked and triple checked and quadruple checked but maybe he should check them four more times just to make extra sure...

Jesse closed his eyes and took a breath. He was being a baby. He could take one punishment that he deserved and be a good pet.

Jesse opened the door to the den, smoke assaulting him. Mr. and Mrs. Bakeman sat across from each other, cigarettes in hand. They didn’t even turn to Jesse when he stepped inside, so he just paused by the door and waited until they stopped their conversation.

“Nice of you to join us, Jesse,” Mrs. Bakeman said. “You can close the door.”

He did, feeling his face grow warm. He hoped Mr. Bakeman didn’t think anything of the way she said his name. He’d never been this close to both of them at once. He didn’t like it.

“Our girls are scared,” Mr. Bakeman said. He took a long drag on his cigarette. “We left them in your care and they were terrified for their lives.” He stood, putting out his cigarette. He looked to Jesse with faux shock. “They’re only children.”

“I -- I know. I’m so sorry it ha--”

Mr. Bakeman slammed his hand on the table. “Did I say you could speak?!”

Jesse’s heart jumped to his throat. He shook his head, skin prickling.

“You have a real problem with following orders. You have one job here -- to take care of our children and our home while we’re gone. And what happened? Criminals broke in and destroyed our home. Our girls were ripped from their beds at gunpoint. All because of you.”

Mrs. Bakeman coughed, smoke pouring out of her mouth. “We can’t let that slide.”

“No,” her husband agreed. “We can’t. You need to be punished.”

He paused for a long moment. Jesse cleared his throat. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Mr. Bakeman nodded. “Good. Take off your shirt.”

Jesse complied, pointedly avoiding looking in Mrs. Bakeman’s direction. He caught her biting her lip out of the corner of his eye and he had to suppress a shudder. She wouldn’t go to his room tonight with her husband home… right? He really really hoped not. It was bad enough seeing Mr. Bakeman come home the next day, Jesse couldn’t imagine having to face him the very next morning when he was in the house.

“Hands on the table.”

There was the sound of metal clicking on metal and Jesse looked up to see Mr. Bakeman unbuckling his belt.

There was a terrible moment of pure panic where Jesse thought that maybe Mr. Bakeman liked the same things his wife did, that maybe he wouldn’t care about what she and him did while he wasn’t there because he was going to start doing the same things.

But there was no unbuttoning or unzipping of pants next. Mr. Bakeman simply slipped his belt out of the loops and wrapped it around his hand, hard metal buckle shining in the light.

“Count out loud,” Mr. Bakeman ordered, moving behind Jesse.

He bit back a cry at the first hit, hunching his shoulders and squeezing his eyes shut. It was fine. He’d had worse. He deserved this. “One,” he said when he could. Another hit. Jesse bit his lip. “Two.”

On the third hit, the buckle flew free and smacked into his skin, causing Jesse to let out a strangled scream. Mrs. Bakeman took his chin in her hands, squeezing his face.

“Every time you scream, we add three more.”

Why not four?

Jesse bit his lip again and nodded, tears shining in his eyes. They fell on the next hit, another welt raising from the buckle.

Mr. Bakeman stopped at sixteen hits, when Jesse was almost on his knees and warm blood was soaking the waistband of his jeans. He was making little, uncontrollable whining noises in the back of his throat like an animal, tears falling with sobs he couldn’t let out.

He opened his eyes to see Mrs. Bakeman’s sick smile across from him. Mr. Bakeman slammed his belt on the table, blood flying off it.

“Do you think that punishment was fitting?” Mr. Bakeman asked, lighting another cigarette. He had Jesse’s blood on his face.

Jesse took a stabilizing breath, all his energy focused on not falling to his knees. “I--” he swallowed back a sob. “I think wh--whatever you think…”

Mr. and Mrs. Bakeman only watched him for a long moment, smoke swirling around their heads. Finally, Mrs. Bakeman stretched across the table, maintaining embarrassing eye contact with Jesse, and ground the hot tip of her cigarette into the back of his hand.

He fell to his knees, resisting the urge to pull his hand back to end the all too familiar burning pain radiating up his arm. He ground his teeth together to stop a scream, and waited until Mrs. Bakeman finally sat back.

“Let’s call it a night,” she said to her husband.

Once they both left Jesse wanted nothing more than to break down crying and clean out his wounds before sleeping for twenty four hours straight, but he couldn’t just yet.

He had to air out all the smoke. For the girls’ sake.

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Taglist: @mylifeisonthebookshelf @boxboysandotherwhump

[kusagrasskusa]

Yandere! Itachi X Reader Headcannons

The reader is precieved as a normal civilization rather than a ninja.

ALSO I learned how to do the "read more" thing on my phone and now I'm happy uvu- and to any friends that read this, I'm so sorry but I've never been so dedicated to a fandom in a long time lol. I might make a oneshot later for this, too, and I do, you should see a link under this paragraph somewhere.

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🖤 Itachi is a mature and collected person, so I'd think it'd be unlikely for him to just grow obsessed at once. Itachi would have to come across Y/N many times before releasing he's in love.

🖤 The way he'd meet Y/N would be when he'd be scouting an area for a particular enemy. He'd happen to come across her, who interacted with him a little but nothing interesting happened. Overtime, the two would see each other here and there, until eventually everyday.

🖤 When his enemy he was looking for had been eliminated, he said his goodbyes to Y/N before leaving. He expected to move on, but his mind would wonder back to her no matter how hard he tried.

🖤 Eventually, Itachi would see Y/N whenever he had free time. He'd make room in his day to spend hours together; they'd go out to eat, participate in festivals, talk, and more.

🖤 On Y/N's side, it didn't take long before she started to feel romantic interest. Afterall, Itachi was calm, collected, smart, strong, fun to be around, and seemed genuinely interested in her. She was definitely in love before he was.

🖤 Around the time Itachi would visit the Leaf Village to find Naruto, he strangely started to worry a lot about Y/N learning about who he was and fear him. He couldn't help but want to shield her from the truth, and if the people around them learned that the man Y/N was with was wanted, it would end bad for them.

🖤 Itachi was inevitably worrying a little too much about the possibility of her finding out. He went to see her and did his best to distract her from any gossip or drama whatsoever to ensure she'd never hear about the Akatsuki. His time spent with her increased from a few hours to half the day.

🖤 Itachi wouldn't ever want to kidnap or drag people into his life. He hates killing, he hates being "evil", he hates everything about his dark lifestyle. The decision to either abandon someone he began to care for or to take her away was a very hard one.

🖤 Itachi realized something in the process of thinking of a solution. He loved Y/N; he loved her to the point where the thought of her hating or fearing him scared him so badly. Even with Sasuke, the thought of him having him was terrifying but something he could live with.

🖤 It was releasing to learn about his own true feelings. He was desperately in love with Y/N, to the point where she was like air, or food, or water. Like in order to live, she had to be around.

🖤 As word spread about two strange people walking around Konoha and that Orochimaru took the last Uchiha, it was inevitable that Y/N would learn about the info. The next time she saw Itachi, she brought it up to him and expressed her discomfort in the fact that she could be among evil people.

🖤 He was scared. So scared that she would hate him for his lifestyle after finding out about who he really is. So that was it; his mind was made. He took Y/N away that night.

🖤 When word about the Akatsuki in Konoha, he received a lot more looks when he was in public than normal. He'd usually have a normal kimono on and have his hair in a different, though similar, style in order to appear normal. But he knew deep down in his heart that people are bound to start suspecting him of being an Akatsuki. And overhearing someone talk about an S class Uchiha member is what did it.

🖤 "You've been asking about where I live for a whole now. Would you like see my home?" Itachi asked. Y/N happily agreed to go, and sorta expected his home to be outside of her village. But the further she traveled, she grew a bit nervous and wanted to return home (as you would if you were led outside of your village into deep woods)

🖤 Itachi wasn't escorting Y/N alone. Of course, the Akatsuki is bound to learn about that girl Itachi insisted on bringing up in most of his little amounts of conversations. It was obvious he was obsessed with her, as much as he would try to hid it, but he just couldn't get her off his mind. So the night where he choose to bring her home, Kisame was watching the two frkm afar in case something happened.

🖤 Before that day, Itachi had mentioned that he wanted to protect Y/N. Over the three months Itachi spent with Y/N, he had plenty of time to talk about her enough to where the other members basically knew her.

🖤 Itachi actually got a few of the members (ex. Kisame, Deidara) were interested in Y/N as well. How could someone as "heartless" as Itachi Uchiha fall in love, and in such a dramatic way at that? They were sorta curious to see what was so special about her.

🖤 Anyway, you can imagine how Itachi convinced Y/N to go far enough into the woods to go to a small little cottage. Was it part of the Akatsuki hideout? No. Itachi would never trust the Akatsuki members with Y/N alone, and she needs her freedom to walk around a house.

🖤 The inside was sorta minimalistic, but not completely empty. To the far right was a kitchen was a small dining table with two chairs, and on the opposite side was two rooms. In one room was a single bed with a closet in it, and in the other room was a bathroom. Between the kitchen and two rooms was a small living room with a couch, coffee table, and more. There were bored games in a little dresser in the living room, along with a full bookshelf with books of all genres.

🖤 "Care for dinner?" Itachi had asked. He wanted to tell Y/N why she's there over a dinner he made and had prepared in advance. It turns out he was amazing at cooking.

🖤 It wasn't very easy, but Itachi managed to explain his feelings towards Y/N. Of course, Y/N happily excepted and was quick to hug and express her feelings towards him. He returned the hug and spoke about how he loved her very much, however he had so much more to say to her.

🖤 Justifyingly so, Y/N was frozen in shock when Itachi told his story. He killed everyone in his clan aside from his brother, the well-known Uchiha. How he fled his clan after committing the murders and joined an infamous group; The Akatsuki.

🖤 While displaying himself as calm, he was so overwhelmed and scared within his mind. He knew he'd have to tell her why she's staying at the house and why, from now one, she'll never leave. But he was smart enough to know she wouldn't simply except living here out of love. He would have to be a bit manipulative to keep Y/N.

🖤 Y/N was mortified and didn't notice the tears pouring out of her eyes. She fell desperately in love with a murderer. She felt so sick, so scared. She stood up, begging to go home so desperately, trembling over her own words. She was so scared for her life now, and what Itachi's intentions were. Truly, Itachi's heart broke at this.

🖤 "Y/N, darling," Itachi spoke, his words laced with love as she softly grabbed Y/N wrists and leaned close. "I had to take you away. I couldn't let them take you from me."

🖤 He was very delicate with Y/N as he calmed her down, as if she was glass. His heart ached at her pain, but he truly believed it was for the best. In a way it really was; people saw Y/N with the tall raven boy many times in public, and her parents and friends had met him too. Once they find out that boy is the Itachi, Y/N could be killed if they think she was aiding him.

🖤 Itachi did his best to show her around and make her feel comfortable. But no matter what he did, Y/N felt so broken, so empty, so confused. There's no way that sweet Itachi she loves is a killer. He has to be lying.

🖤 Over the course of a few days, Y/N learned to except the fact she's held at that small home. She tried to think on the good side; she could decorate it how she wants, has more freetime, can focus on her hobbies and learn to cook new things, and more! Even if she's never allowed to leave the house, Itachi let's her do basically anything around the home.

🖤 Y/N still loves him. As months go by of being alone for a few days without Itachi, some days with him for a little bit, and some full days with him, she still couldn't help but appreciate him just as much as before. No, she appreciates him more even. She just can't help but love him, and he loves her too.

🖤 Itachi felt much more relaxed around Y/N and tried to spend every second he could with her. He was so shameful of keeping her from her home, but it was for the best wasn't it?

🖤 Most of Itachi's emotions about keeping her was all because he lived her and never wanted to see her with anyone else. But he had always found an excuse as to why it's for the best that she's never with anyone else.

🖤 Kisame had met Y/N a few times. She was never comfortable with him however and was typically holding onto Itachi's sleeve, or leaning on him when he's around. However Kisame would be around when Itachi wasn't sometimes to keep watch.

🖤 As long as Itachi or Kisame was present, Y/N is allowed to go outside and visit close villages other than the one Y/N is from. She would be allowed to buy anything she wanted and could afford from these places, but she had to go home eventually.

🖤 At the end of the day, Y/N had quite a lot of freedom and eventually, she was happy. She was happy to be living with Itachi and was perfectly happy calling him her husband.

🖤 Itachi never wanted a marriage though. He was going blind and he planned to be murdered by his brother and he never dared to make her a young widow. When Izumi had died, he felt so distraught and he knew Y/N is bound to feel the same, but even worse if they got married.

🖤 When Itachi died, as said, Y/N was distraught. No, she was mortified. Absolutely mortified. Even if she was free, she had lost the last person she had a connection with. And she carried that sorrow to her grave.