#briefly: grim

[cookeybg]

Gotham Possesses

A cryptid Batfamily AU in which Gotham is the main character and follows its journey to consciousness as it follows its Bat and Birds. Chapters are short and a bit gloomy.

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake (more characters pop up later, will add them then.)

No romantic relationships

Stuff to know: Cryptid Batfamily, grim, Melancholic mood (let me know if I should add more tags)

Word Count: 622

[Here's my table of contents]

Chapter 6 - Gotham Hoped

She scanned the boy, her shadows briefly skimming his skin. His sharp eyes had been watching, always, at times through a lens. He had been there the day her first bird’s loved ones emptied their warmth into her soil. Too young to be witness to such horror, but nonetheless a rite of passage within her walls. The boy would slink through her streets like a mouse and hide on fire escapes, all to take images of her Bat and birds. The boy would look at the images and quietly he would murmur, he would question the absence of her missing bird and she would lament softly, rain hitting the rooftops in a steady stream. The boy’s curiosity was insatiable and his exploits grew, to soothe the itch, to fill his time, to ignore the loneliness. With a wistful pause she moved on, apathetic as the boy grew bolder, endangering himself. He was only a small curiosity. And small he was. Much too small when he forcibly inserted himself into her Bat’s life. Sharp as a whip and quick to steal the mantle, because her Bat needed a Robin. Her Bat did not want him. He would speak to the boy in short, gruff, noises and leave the boy to his own devices, denying him. Through the eyes of her Bat, she saw the neglect, the isolation. She felt the kinship. But her Bat was mired in his grief, blinded, he refused to take notice. The boy in turn took care of her Bat, tempered him. Brought a semblance of the Bat she knew before. Slowly, much slower than with the second, her Bat’s frost melted and he let the boy in. They danced on her roof tops, her streets, in her sewers and the bird flew like the ones before. The grief always present but now lessened, never forgotten. The bird was relentless whenever he caught the trace of a worm. Obsessions led to sleepless nights and he kept pushing. Always moving, until one night, disregarding a concussion, his exhaustion lulled him to sleep. The cold giving way to numbness, unaware that his small body was freezing. He became buried in snow, lost to winter’s wonder. This boy was her Bat’s new bird, a shaky tether he held on to, that she clutched at. She could not, would not let her Bat break again, so soon. With deliberate practice, she dislodged a piece of her shadow and let it slip through blue lips. She watched as her bird took a breath, frost falling off him as he painfully twitched back to consciousness. She didn’t need to gather her shadows to silence for no noise escaped him. His face contorted in pain, his mouth open in a silent scream, heart beating painfully slow. He lay hidden the whole city asleep. With stiff limbs she saw him push at the blanket of snow, with his eyes she saw the first rays of dawn. It was the first time she had ever heard a whispered word of gratitude directed towards her. She wrapped shadowy tendrils around him, warming him in her embrace, seeking comfort in their connection. In her newfound tether. In her new bird. Through his ears she heard the calls of her Bat, checking in on their bird. The bird answered, voice hoarse and waited for the beat of his heart to become normal. She felt the spark in his chest as she helped him on his way, shortening the distance, further silencing his steps, pushing him with a cold breeze towards her Bat’s cave, their home. Her shadows sifted through his hair. Her bird was no longer alone. The spark reignited a flame that had dwindled and Gotham found hope.

Hope you enjoy! :D

[sinecosinewheel]

curate amelia n vicar laurence

amelia lore under the readmore (warning: long)

ok so. curate amelia is laurence's successor publicly, but in private she's known by the choir and hunters of the church as the Vicar's Hound. if laurence is suspicious of or annoyed by someone, she will discretely kill them and leave them in a public area as an example (it's blamed on beast attacks but the message is understood)

basically if your coworker ends up mulched one day in the courtyard you know to stay in line or else

shes takes gehrman's old role as his right-hand man so i wanted her to resemble gehrman without cosplaying as him (capey thing, big loose collar) and her church pick is 1. gigantic 2. modeled after the burial blade

brador is supposed to hunt down those who spread the church's secrets but amelia is meant as a bodyguard/intimidation so it doesn't come to that they're similar but different roles i prommy

amelia is the only person laurence trusts. since gehrman left for the dream he's become more paranoid and he trusts her because he has blackmail on her from the hunter she killed, and because of her complete devotion to the church and him

more on why laurence is paranoid in his old age: he used to need glasses before he started using blood ministration on himself and his encroaching beasthood is making his vision fail but he can't get glasses because it would raise questions like 'why is the healing blood not working, whats wrong with the vicar, whats wrong with the church etc', plus that ascending thing isn't going great, his bf is trapped in a pocket dimension, and the beasthood means hes running out of time. thats why he needs a successor, enter amelia, who can also function as personal assassin and bodyguard

laurence likes to think of her as the daughter he and gehrman could have had. part of the reason why he chose her is because she reminded him of himself. sir that's not your daughter you fucked up a perfectly good hunter shes got religious trauma. anyway she's kind of a foil to maria/the doll

amelia's dynamic with laurence is very confused. he's my blackmailer, he's my christ figure, he's my dad, he's my boss, etc.

she was good friends with the hunter she killed, so the blackmail is less 'ill tell on you' and more, 'you can only be absolved of your sins in service to me, what would your friend think of you'

brador hates her. he considers amelia unnecessary and feels like shes usurping some of his position with laurence

when laurence gave in to beasthood and died she was completely out of her depth and was completely unprepared to actually take over after him. some part of her thought he could never really die, such was the depth of her worship

as vicar she has heavy scarring from being there when he transformed, she froze in the face of the beast and couldn't bring herself to fight him

brador killed him instead and thinks she's a coward for not being able to put laurence down, considering it a failure of her faith

he says as much to her face and in grief and retribution her first act as vicar is to lock him up for killing the previous vicar

hes got his bell so he can still do his job, and he eventually dies in his cell and ends up in the nightmare

amelia has no idea what to do when things go to shit so she seals cathedral ward in an attempt to lock the beasts out, but she didn't understand they were already there until it was too late

[tunastime]

Dog in the Nighttime

in which there is a moment of concern right before the end of the world. or, Martyn and Jimmy have a quiet night. Which doesn't often happen for brothers, does it? (2393 words) (read it on ao3!)

Jimmy takes a while to get home, one night. He doesn’t mean to. He gets side-tracked. It’s just easy to—it’s easy when people are chatting, and nobody thinks you're a threat, and nobody sees that your name is red and thinks that it means you’ll kill at any provocation. People still talk to you, and they still giggle, and sometimes, just sometimes, they tell you to be careful. They ask you how many hearts you have left. They get, for a brief moment, a look of pity, of shame. Something makes Jimmy wonder if they wished they could give out any extra hearts. Jimmy wonders if they even would. 

But the blood in Jimmy’s ears is much too strong to hear any mumblings, and so he treks his way back home slowly, and carefully, and makes sure he doesn’t slip and cut himself—since that won’t heal right, not even after he gets his lives back, and Martyn isn’t any good at dressing wounds, really. He takes a while to get home, so Martyn is waiting in the doorway with his arms folded when he gets back. He’s trying his best not to look like his mother, or maybe his older brother, or anything like that, when he stands there looking disapproving. It’s not working, though, because Jimmy feels the cold wave of disappointment and shame regardless, just like he used to when they were younger and Jimmy had done something really stupid, and Martyn had been there to tell him off for it. 

It wasn’t like that now, though, because Jimmy hadn’t done anything stupid. At least he thinks so, so Martyn’s just doing it because he can. And because as soon as that frown breaks, he knows Jimmy will laugh, and the mood will be so much better then. He sighs, stretching around as he night starts to get chilly around them, trying to get his back and arms to stop aching so much from the heavy diamond chestplate. Martyn’s mouth stays in a fine line until Jimmy raises his eyebrows at him. His expression falters. then, just a little.

“You’re standing there like you’re my mum,” Jimmy says, pausing for a moment before the paws of the dog settled over their house. “You got a problem with me comin’ in late, do ya?”

Martyn’s expression wavers. Jimmy grins at him, folding his arms, too.

“Maybe I do,” Martyn huffs. “You ever think about your teammate being all alone at home?”

“Of course not,” Jimmy says, voice on the verge of laughing. “You’re a big dog! Big man! You can handle it!”

Martyn rolls his eyes. He’s smiling now, though, which means his facade’s finally broke, which makes Jimmy actually laugh. Martyn drops his arms, ushering Jimmy inside, where it’s a bit warmer, where the stove is going, where there’s a warm glow and a bed with too many, rather than too few, blankets. 

Something about the space, as soon as he steps into it, makes his muscles relax. His body sags, wings first, then shoulders, and arms, and knees, and legs, as a comfortably warm wave passes over him. He feels safe here, as Martyn moves around him, pushing Jimmy over to their small, shitty crafting table that wobbles when he presses against it, to leave Jimmy to sit in an equally wobbly chair. He’s not sure how long it’s been since he felt this safe in a death game. A while, he thinks. Maybe the time before last. Maybe not at all. He takes off his chestplate. Ow.

“How are you, Tim?” Martyn asks as he lifts his still-hot pan from the stove and makes his way over to the table. 

“Doin’ alright,” Jimmy sighs, sinking back into his chair. “A bit nostalgic. A bit tired. You know how it is.”

“Do I,” Martyn agrees, sitting across from him. “Did’ya ever expect this would happen again?”

When he says this, he gestures to the two of them sitting together, to the plate of food, and the room around them. Jimmy knows what he means. He’s talking about Evo. It’s tickled the back of Jimmy’s mind for weeks, like deja-vu, like he’s repeating scenarios he thinks he should know but can’t really remember. It all feels very dreamy—Evo does, that is. Here feels very real, he promises. His legs are very much sore from walking so much, and his heart is a somewhat bleeding, heavy thing he has to carry. That’s all good and fine. But he doesn’t remember much of Evo anymore. Well—he remembers enough, now. Enough now so that this feels a little different than it always had. Like there’s something else there behind things in the shadow. But Martyn’s waiting on his answer and Jimmy feigns a smile and shakes his head.

“‘S nice, honestly,” Jimmy says, leaning forward to tear off a large chunk of bread and sitting back in his chair. “Feels good t’team up.”

Jimmy takes a bite. He lets his eyes shut for a moment, just chewing, just letting the room be quiet around him. He hears Martyn suck in a breath as he takes a large bite of too-hot steak. He laughs a little as Martyn’s exhale whistles, and feels him kick his shin under the table. 

“Ow!”

“Don’t be mean,” Martyn says through a mouthful. “We’re brothers.”

Jimmy pulls a face, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Grian’s mean to me all the time,” he huffs, stuffing another piece of bread into his mouth. “So…”

“Yeah, well that’s Grian,” Martyn says, swallowing with a touch of difficulty. “That’s different.”

“How’s it different?”

Martyn shrugs. He tears off another piece of steak, seemingly cooler this time. Jimmy follows suit. The meat is much tougher than he’s expecting, jaw working to chew. For a sudden, despite how well needed this meal is, he misses, achingly, the chance to cook. 

“Just is,” Martyn finishes.

“‘S not like I’m related to any of you,” Jimmy snorts, swallowing. “You’ve all just decided to make yourselves my siblings.”

“You love it!”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Jimmy says, scrunching his face up. Martyn takes another big bite, talking with his mouth full.

“You like Lizzie just fine,” he manages. Jimmy leans back in his chair, folding his arms. His appetite hasn’t been much lately, coming and going in waves. 

“Liz is different—it’s just different, it’s different!” Jimmy huffs, which turns into a little giggle, which he tries to stifle and fails. Martyn rolls his eyes.

“I hope she’s doin’ alright…” Jimmy adds after a beat. He sees Martyn nod, just a small bob of his head.

He couldn’t help it. There was something that nagged at him every time he noticed the red glint in her eye. Maybe it was guilt that still lingered. Maybe it was knowing she was alone enough to worry about. Joel wandered around. Scott, too. Himself. Grian. But nobody stayed. It was starting to worry him. But Martyn kicks his leg under the table again, and Jimmy jolts to, and stuffs the last bit of bread into his mouth before he scoots back from the table with a creak to the chair. Martyn seems to swallow with some difficulty as he watches Jimmy stand. Jimmy stretches, high over his head, to both sides, and then sighs. He drops his arms.

“Bedtime, I think,” Jimmy says, reaching up to scrub his face. Martyn nods, shutting his eyes for a moment.

“You’re tellin’ me,” he says. Jimmy watches his face for a moment, seeing tired lines and too much tension. He feels a little awkward, standing here, something fumbling around loosely in his chest. He coughs. Things seem to right themselves, then, enough for him to wander around and find another pair of socks, because his shoes are full of sand. And a sweater. He dumps sand from his shoes outside their door and shuts it against the chilly air. He hears Martyn at the sink and the stove, muttering to himself as he cleans up dinner. After a beat, as Jimmy weasels on a crudely made sweater with two, too-small holes in the back, he starts rearranging covers. He says:

“Thanks for dinner, Martyn,” and even though he tries to keep the tired from seeping into his voice, his words kind of slur together and Martyn laughs.

“You sound tired, mate,” he says. Jimmy watches him scrape at the pan with a knife, which can’t be good for the seasoning layer. Something actually hurts in Jimmy’s hands to see him do that. Whatever. Martyn can’t cook for shit anyways, so he doesn’t really care. But maybe he does. He crushes together another sentence, though.

“Well duh,” he garbles out. “Spent the whole day trying to snoop around and steal and hit people over the head like it’s whack-a-mole, ‘course I’m tired, Martyn.”

He flops into bed, face down. His wings splay out behind him like a cheap imitation of a blanket. He eventually manages to wiggle his way up his side of the bed and under the slightly-patchy quilt. He’s still lying face down, though, and his wing is very much in Martyn’s business. He’s expecting a poke or a whap on the back of his head when Martyn finally sits down next to him, but there’s a beat before he does. He peeks an eye open, frowning at the outline of Martyn in the half-dark. There’s still the furnace going, low and slow, keeping the room warm.

“What?” he asks. “You want me to move?”

Martyn blinks.

“Sorry,” he says, which is such a weird word to hear out of Martyn’s mouth, now that he thinks about it. “I was thinkin’ about something.”

“Anything important?” Jimmy asks, shifting over. He folds his wings in, making ample space for Martyn beside him. They’ll still end up crowded, shoulder to shoulder or back to back, holding heat between them. 

“That’s none of your business,” Martyn says, lifting his chin. “You snoop.”

Jimmy barks out a laugh, rolling his eyes. Whatever, he wants to say, but it doesn’t quite make it out of his mouth, not before Martyn lies down and rearranges his perfectly balanced blankets, and he has to gripe about it as loud as he can. Martyn laughs, something Jimmy feels, too, as Martyn weasels in next to him. His laugh peters out in the dark. It’s like a sleepover, actually. But with a lot more dying. But still—last time Jimmy had Grian and Joel, and that was kind of fun, except they both complained a lot, and Joel hogged the covers. And he also had Tango, which was really nice, because his soulmate was a cuddler, and he was kind of hoping maybe they’d end up being allies so he’d have that again, but it didn’t work out, and that was fine. Scott and him hadn’t slept in the same room, which was also fine, but it also wasn’t cold. Here it was cold, and he was glad Martyn didn’t mind sleeping so close, and also they only had one bed. Which was also fine. It made Jimmy feel like a little kid again, and that was always fun. Almost like they were little kids again, and nothing mattered. He sighs.

“It’s a little important,” Martyn says, lowering his voice. Jimmy hums. His eyes are too tired to open. He feels a bit like soup, right now, so he lets Martyn do all the talking.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jimmy manages. He feels Martyn shake his head. 

“It’s alright, Timmy—just go to sleep, yeah?”

Jimmy hums. Yeah. Yeah. His body is a tired, heavy thing, even on their tiny mattress that isn’t all that comfortable (and Jimmy pretends like he isn’t thinking about his mattress back home on what he could call his home server and how nice and soft that one is. Definitely not longing for more pillows and maybe a bit more space). Martyn sighs, shuffling a bit to get comfortable. They stay shoulder to shoulder, and the warmth of being red and being human seeps into Jimmy’s shoulder and his sweater sleeve and Martyn mumbles out a good night.

The worst part about this interaction is its finality. Jimmy knows things end. He’s really, really used to things ending, and being red, and having things slip through his fingers too fast, too soon. He tries to savor the moment as he slips into dreamless sleep. He tries to screw up his face and keep awake for a second longer, like Martyn might tell him off again for not sleeping, or throw around that threat about leaving him to the phantoms. Jimmy swallows down the bad taste of that thought—the one about endings. He wishes it tasted a little better. It mostly tastes like burnt steak and toothpaste. Gross.

He mumbles a good night back.

Tomorrow Martyn sleeps in a cold bed alone. Because Jimmy’s right about endings, and he can usually taste them right before they happen, except he can never do anything about it, because why would he be able to? He’s not a superhero. He’s a psychopomp. Whatever.

Somewhere in that blank space, he makes a little place for Lizze and Mumbo to sit next to him. It won’t be for long—never, it never is, and the ache of being half dead with no real tether kind of gets old after a while—but it’s long enough for Lizzie to sigh out tiredly and rest her head against his shoulder, despite how hate bubbled up in her voice when she spat at him. He pats Mumbo’s shoulder. Mumbo laughs. They watch the games below them from a place very safe, and wait for someone else to join them. The world feels a little less heavy, then. His wings weigh a little more. The shape of him lingers in everything, even on Grian’s shoulder, even after Mumbo and Lizzie have left. His belongings linger in chests Martyn doesn’t empty. His name lingers in minds and mouths and his sweater ends up tied around someone’s waist. Lizzie lingers with him, crowding in that same space, and Jimmy welcomes sitting shoulder to shoulder again. He says to find him after they leave. Lizzie brightens, then. Like a sleepover, of course.

Yeah. That warm feeling lingers, even as Jimmy returns home, covered in feathers. Sure. Like a sleepover.

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

"Yuu-Yuu hurt." Part 12

Part 1 | Part 11 | Part 13

The mad scientist is dragged away by magical officers and the boys are brought to the police station, where they give their statements. Now that they're safe and Yuu is being seen by capable adults, the adrenaline tapers off and exhaustion seeps in. Most of them fall asleep as soon as they sit down in the waiting room.

Those who are still awake don't say anything to each other or whoever enters the waiting room. They instead look out the window, noticing the still dark skies, or impatiently glance at the clock, wanting the shuttle bus to arrive already so he could sleep and put the whole damn night behind him. It's still unbelievable what had happened, and the sleep-deprived haze makes it seem like a wild nightmare.

The entrance slides open. In walks Sebek, Ortho, Grim, and the teddy bear. Epel roughly shakes Deuce and Ace awake as the Diasomnia trio quickly approach Sebek. "Has there been any issue?" Malleus asks.

"No. Yuu was brought safely to the mages."

The tension in the room lessens. "That is excellent news. Thank you all for your efforts."

Sebek, despite his exhaustion, beams while Ortho says that it wasn't a problem. They are all ushered to a chair or waved over to an empty spot. Grim plops into a seat beside Ace and the teddy bear sits next to him. Before the First Years can ask Grim and the teddy bear for details, the two suddenly collapse against each other and free fall into sleep.

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

He and the others are in the warehouse-like room.

Yuu and the ink monster are screaming. It leaps towards some classmates to his left. He moves away, readying a spell and shooting it.

COUGH COUGH

Yuu is doubled over, a hand covering their mouth as the other hand grips their knee. Ink seeps between their fingers, and when they take a trembling breath and raise their head, it leaks from their eyes like tears. Somehow, despite the distance, he hears them exhale. . . and then their eyes roll back and they fall to the floor.

The ink that trickles out of their mouth seems to have a red shine. He doesn't have time to yell for them because in a moment, the ink monster is above them and its body is falling apart, much like a rapidly melting candle. He raises his wand with a spell on his tongue--

An ink stained hand grips his wrist. He turns and his breath leaves his lungs. A familiar face grins back at him. Garbled words echo in his ears that bring with them unbearable discomfort and nausea.

"They must become one of us, or else they don't belong."

He yells something back while wrenching his hand away, either a "No they don't" or "Shut up!" The familiar face only cackles and points behind him.

Half of Yuu's body is inside the broken glass head of the ink monster. Pupiless eyes bore into his own. "No."

The rest of the body is sucked further in. He thinks he hears a raspy groan, but it's overcome by a loud, disgusting slushing sound like worms writhing.

He wants to hurl.

He wants to cry.

He feels so useless.

"YUU!!!"

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

Ace's eyes snap open, heart racing like when he and the others had fled from the ink monster in the mines from a long time ago. His eyes land on a mini basketball hoop hanging high against a red and black irregularly striped wall. Right beside his head and slightly obscured by a scarlet cotton curtain, is an armoire so goofily curved it's like it came straight out of a whimsical tale. He's back in his bedroom; he remembers trudging to the Mirror Chamber after getting off the shuttle bus, bumping into someone or a chair or something, and then nothing.

Something moves against his chest. He realizes his arms are crossed and holding onto a soft but firm thing. He looks down and meets the beady black eyes of Yuu's sentient teddy bear. "Ace okay?" it asks.

His mind flashes back to a conversation from last night.

"I've been thinking about this for a while," Ortho said, pulling all attention to him. "I'm sure most of us know this by now, but for those who don't: Yuu's teddy bear has an unusual ability that lets it know when Yuu gets injured and where they are. Yuu has been held captive for three weeks, and during that time, the teddy bear was acutely aware that they were injured and hidden in that forest."

"I can't imagine what it would be like to be it during those weeks, knowing that someone it deeply cares about is so close but out of reach. I'm afraid of trying to run a simulation."

The teddy bear nuzzled closer to Grim, who hugged it tighter. "I must confess, it's impressive it didn't have a breakdown during those weeks," Jade said. "It's made me wonder what it would have done if none of us had tried searching for Yuu ourselves."

"Yeah, I'm okay." Before Ace realizes it, he's petting the teddy bear's head. It accepts the affection and leans into his hand.

He hears some muttering behind him. Holding the teddy bear more securely to his chest, he rolls over. He lets out a scoff; Grim had somehow ended up upside down and his tail was in Deuce's face. He starts to laugh when Grim's tail flicks and hits the Spade student, but quickly stops when Grim mutters almost tearfully, "Yuu, don't die!"

Ace then notices the damp fur around Grim's eyes and how hard Deuce was grinding his teeth (he was actually afraid Deuce was going to chip a tooth this time). He gets out of bed and feels dull soreness in his joints and muscles. Any open wounds had been small and treated at the police station; simple bruises were left alone. He trudges to the other side of the room with the teddy bear in one arm. "Deuce. Deuce! Grim! Wake up!"

As expected, nothing. He suddenly remembers the other roommates and glances over, but finds the beds empty. Come to think of it, what time was it?

Putting the teddy bear on the bed, Ace places a hand on Grim's tummy and reaches over to grab Deuce's shoulder. He yells their names and shakes them, which manages to startle them awake. "Phew. About time."

Deuce blearily looks around as Grim slowly sits up. He sighs, relieved. "It was only a dream."

"Let me guess, dreaming about last night?"

"Yeah. You were too, right?"

"How could I not? It was more stressful than dealing with the other Overblots."

"It was." Deuce sighs again, but then squints at Ace. ". . . Were you crying?"

"Huh?!" He touches his cheek. Tears had dried on his face, mixing with red makeup when they were still fresh. Deuce was the same, having black makeup smudged down his cheek. Grim is touching his own face and seems surprised that he too had cried in his sleep. "Guess I was."

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

Notices were sent to the boys' phones: once the school day had ended, all of them needed to report to the auditorium in person. Ace was dreading the lecture he and the others were sure to be getting, but the dread worsened upon seeing all the homeroom teachers standing beside a seriously stern headmaster. For the next however many minutes--which felt more likes hours--the headmaster scolded the students for being so reckless and other things. With how much anger and exasperation was behind the headmaster's words, it brought Ace back to the time he and Grim got yelled at for scorching the Queen of Hearts statue. The homeroom teachers' disapproving glares, combined with sitting in the front row, made Ace sweat and try to look anywhere but the front.

"I'm especially appalled by the dorm leaders and the vice dorm leaders," Crowley said, and the underclassmen were a little relieved that they weren't targeted anymore. "The fourteen of you--especially the dorm leaders and those with upstanding social positions--should have known better than to partake in such a highly consequential folly! Whatever you or anyone has to say on this matter will not excuse the danger you have allowed yourselves and others under your care to be in."

There was a moment of tense, suffocating silence. Crowley huffed. "That said, I can't say I'm not proud of you all."

"HUH?!"

It was like a switch had flipped: Crowley was smiling at the students now and exuding joy. "You all banded together to search and rescue one of your peers. Not only did you do just that successfully, but you also saved the other kidnap victims and kept them safe while there was an Overblot incident. You all showed such capability during a dangerous situation and so much care for one of your own--it brings tears to my eyes!"

"I know you said there was no excuse for what we just did, but we really couldn't sit around waiting for something to happen," Kalim said.

"And of course, we couldn't turn down the plead of their dear teddy bear to find them, not when they mean so much to it," Azul said, a palm to his chest to express "sincerity".

Glances were cast towards the teddy bear. It was silently staring out the window.

Crowley put his hands on his hips. "Al-Asim, Ashengrotto, I trust you both won't make the same lapse in judgment during your time as students?"

"Ah, well--"

"If you make the same decision as the one you took for rescuing Yuu next time, it could end terribly. It goes the same for all of you. No matter what happens, do not run blindly into danger. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," the students choired.

"Headmaster, could I ask you something?" Ace asks. "Have you made any progress at all in finding Yuu a way back home?"

The headmaster clearly wasn't expecting the question--the lights in his eyes seemed to widen and his mouth parted in surprise. The homeroom teachers turn to look at him; it seems they were curious to hear his answer too. In a moment, he was collected, but there was a sort of shaky undertone that undermined it. "Well, to be quite honest, I've been unable to make as much progress as I wanted given the hectic events this school year. I did offer them some pointers on where to look for possible answers, but their circumstance is unique. It would be an arduous and long process finding anything useful."

"Of course it would be! They don't know a lick about magic," Grim argues. "And you haven't made any progress at all because you were busy goofing off."

The lights in Crowley's mask narrow and grow brighter. "I beg your pardon? Is that any way to speak to your headmaster, who works diligently to ensure this school runs well and maintains its prestigious reputation? This sort of work is no easy feat, especially since there are so many misbehaving and reckless students to watch over."

"When winter break came around, you were ready to go vacationing and forgot all about finding Yuu a way home," Grim says.

"Headmaster Crowley, is that true?" Professor Trein asks, fixing him with a stern glare.

When Crowley started to seem shifty, Professor Trein snapped at him and a low growl came from Lucius. "Did you leave alone two students on campus with no means to get food for themselves and no supervision? I advised you numerous times to have them placed in an inn at the foot of the hill. What if something happened to them?"

"I've also been wondering, what did you find in your research of returning Yuu back to their world?" Professor Crewel asks.

"It's as I said before: not as much progress as I wanted."

"So basically, you found jack shit," Floyd says, which causes many heads to snap his way and Crowley to make an offended sound. The headmaster doesn't manage to get a word in when someone speaks up.

"If you're having trouble with searching, you could always ask for help," Kalim suggests.

"I'm sure finding information about crossing universes is by no means an easy task, but surely you could have been transparent about your progress?" Azul points out.

"Ah, that. . ." For the next hour or two, Crowley was in an uncomfortable position.

[mariocki]

Fat Man on a Beach (HTV, 1974)

"I'm going to read some more poems now. Erm. It may be that if you want to go and have a cup of tea, this would be a good time. I know that's what you masses are like. The mention of poetry and off you go."

[lokiinmediasideblog]

Randomly remembered this happened

[kifu]

A little bit of character design. ;) For a comic! That may never leave the brain.

[artfulhero-m]

First art post on Tumblr!! Finally!!!

This is my TWST MC OC, the references shown here have some really basic information about her. There's also two versions for the measurement information cause I couldn't choose between measuring her heigh in cm or feet lol.

Further information about Aster underneath the cut:

Polite

Doesn't take anyone's shit

"Fair enough"

Secretly knows everyone and a large majority of NRC is based off of various Disney properties and villains, but doesn't say anything to humour everyone.

Hums some of the various Disney villain songs she knows whenever something comes up that vaguely reminds her of them (e.g. Azul saying "How poor and unfortunate for you" before a fight, Aster then humming Poor Unfortunate Souls. This is my way of visualizing the say the line Bart meme in this context.)

Does want to go home, but doesn't think Crowley is genuine in his "research", so often she tries to do some research herself whenever she can while still going to classes and dealing with Grim, other dorms, and housewardens at Crowley's request.

Tries desperately to clean the Ramshackle Dorm, but is in a constant state of wonder over why the fuck there hasn't been any cleaning progress.

Genuinely enjoys the company of many of the other students within NRC (and that does include Grim, even if she seems constantly done with his shit.)

Doesn't curse because this is an obvious Disney property world to Aster, however she will say "fuck" at least once.

She has NOT gotten a good night's sleep at all since arriving to the land of Twisted Wonderland.

Is honestly kind of unsure whether or not the interactions she has with Malleus are real or dreams.

When she gets knocked out at the spelldrive tournament, that's when she was able to get the best sleep she ever got since arriving to the land. It's also around then that she truly comes to terms with and accepts the fact that she is very much not in America anymore and is not dreaming for a really, really long time.

While it's not a good night's sleep, on nights Aster meets up with Malleus, she finds herself sleeping better than the previous nights.

During Book 2, Aster was incredibly frustrated because she had an idea of who was causing the accidents based off of the context clues of the fact that Ruggie already demonstrated his signature spell earlier, but if she voiced her thoughts to her idiots they probably wouldn't take her seriously until they came to the realization too.

Likes to "annoy" the housewardens of Heartslabyul and Octavinelle

With Riddle, she'll break some (many) of those arbitrary rules that no person in the waking world would ever follow. She likes to see how frustrated he gets. Also wants to help him chill out regarding the strict enforcement of those rules. (What's he gonna do? Cut off her non-existent magic?)

Gets really good grades to make up for it though for Riddle, like she's a consistently straight A student.

With Azul, she likes to go to the Mostro Lounge and purchase the cheapest item there, and then loiters as a paying customer for WAY too long to see what happens in an attempt to spend time with the octatrio, especially Azul.

Would call Azul "baby girl" in the middle of the Mostro Lounge during busy hours, for fun.

She makes up for it by pledging an unknown day in the future to work for the Mostro Lounge, unpaid. (Aster accumulates many of these future unknown days, lol.)

Aster, Grim, Ace, and Deuce are like besties. Frequently bought together, do not separate type beat.

Tried helping Ace and Deuce with studying once (1) to prevent another Book 3 situation, is not cut out for it.

Due to her friendship with Ace and Deuce, Aster is constantly visiting Heartslabyul. As such, she chooses to spend time when not with her idiots annoying Riddle.

Doesn't spend too much time with Trey since he looks like he's usually busy himself, but sometimes she tries to get him to teach her how to bake with the agreement that she'll help him and the dorm with some of the unbirthday parties.

Cater she's glad to take selfies and photos with him. Loves his vibe, but also hopes he's okay.

[nightravens-therapycircle]

The following chapter contains mentions of a graphic knife-related injury and someone dealing with said injury. I think that's just about everything that deserves some kind of a warning, really.

But we're officially over the halfway point, and the gang's about to figure out the mystery behind these incidents. I... don't think I have much to say here other than I think this chapter also contains my favorite Emery and Riddle interaction that I've written so far. Tell me what you guys think about it once you're done reading if you want to.

Enjoy!

[eemoo1o-animoo]

Do you think a reaper immediately becomes a reaper, or does their body have to decompose first? Because surely, if it’s immediate, they can just go and dig themselves up and just see their own dead corpse?

[thechaoticfanartist]

🌹

He sighed. That’s what everyone kept telling him. Somehow, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Grim told him the same thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

He got no response. He could sense that Ben had gone. He kept doing that. None of his Masters told him anything. Every single one of them had hidden the truth about his father from him. Obi-Wan had told him that Vader killed his father, Grim had continued to repeat that lie, and Yoda had said nothing at all.

He looked at Grim again. “Why didn’t you tell me, Master? You knew I would find out from him.” He knew she couldn’t hear him.

- As Long As There's Light, Chapter ??: [Untitled Chapter]

for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing

[cookeybg]

Gotham Possesses

A cryptid Batfamily AU in which Gotham is the main character and follows its journey to consciousness as it follows its Bat and Birds. Chapters are short and a bit gloomy.

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd (more characters pop up later, will add them then.)

No romantic relationships

Stuff to know: Cryptid Batfamily, grim, Melancholic mood (let me know if I should add more tags)

Word Count: 557

[Here's my table of contents]

Chapter 5 - Gotham Slept

Her Bat had always kept his secrets close. He had always prided the perceived control he had over himself. He always planned. He always prepared. Eventually his mission drove a wedge between him and her bird. Her bird was fed up, she could feel his frustration, his captivity and so she let her bird fly outside of her loving embrace. Her tendrils had extended farther than the city limits. Learning from the land, observing, absorbing, twinning and reaching until she touched another city. Bludhaven, it was called. Silently it slept, dormant. She led her bird there, close enough to keep the tether taut but lose enough to feel free. Unsure if the city would ever wake. Unsure if she was the only one aware. Relieved that her bird was within her grasp. Time ticked by and her Bat met a boy, small, with cracks but he made her Bat laugh. He brought him to the Manor and she watched curiously. He knew her differently than they, intimately. He had crawled within her muck and clawed and fought his way up just to be able to breathe, to eat. He had only known warmth in brief lucid windows and knew of the pain brought by meaty fists. He had been witness to the horrors brought on by need and even participated in a few. He was a survivor of a different kind. The boy would learn to fly, she knew. Some things are certain and her connection to her Bat, the tether, compelled. Her shadows embraced him. The boy donned the colors of her bird, of Robin, and her Bat’s loneliness was assuage. The new bird was not as graceful nor did he ride the skies as if he belonged, but he made up for it by being quick and clever of her streets. She watched them dance, aware of not being the only one, but too focused to care. She wove around him, caressing his hair, unable to do much else for him but lighten the burden of protection from her Bat. She made it harder for the villains, to see, to hear. Everything else was a learned skill, taught by her Bat. The day she felt her Bat’s pain, it was all consuming. In a wooden casket lay a shattered bird, the cracks finally given way. Cold, stiff and without warmth he was placed within her soil. The Bat blamed himself, claimed that he should have been better, should have done things differently. Her Bat blamed her, claimed that she took and took and took. She cried relentlessly, screamed and lit the skies. He was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She would give back. She always did. Lightning struck her soil, tearing a spark of shadow from her. It did not work. She had given her shadow to the other bird once before and she would do it again. She struck again and again until a connection was formed. A rope to bind him to her. She called the vermin that slunk in her sewers and they dug. The bird took a breath, nearly drowning himself, but he had clawed his way up before and so he did again. The bird came out wrong. Twisted and confused. The bird was stolen, taken from his nest. She was too weak to hold onto him and in her exhaustion, Gotham slept.

Let me know what you guys think! I wrote this instead of working on my other fic. I just can't seem to get that chapter right.....

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited) simon's punishment [connected with this!]

“congratulations on your beautiful baby girl.”

simon's gaze remains fixed on the swaddled, wriggling pink bundle held by the nurse, until his focus shifts to your motionless form lying amidst a sea of medical professionals. your stillness is haunting, your body devoid of life as you lay in the hospital bed, with sweat-soaked hair clinging to your forehead and parched lips cracked and dry.

he wonders briefly if this was some sort of punishment, karma for thinking he could have a dash of normalcy after a life of killing. he couldn't breathe, couldn’t move, he could hardly think or process what was happening. this wasn't real, it couldn't be; you were just sleeping— tired from pushing out an infant for hours on end. but the monotonous sound of the heart monitor flat-lining, tells a different story. gone, you were gone. what now? where are you?

“sir?”

simon jolts and pans his gaze to face the nurse who still holds his child. she softly thrusts the newborn in his direction, countenance grim- and it ages her young, round face even more than it already was from working at a hospital. simon had hardly looked at the child since she’d been born, couldn't bring himself to— not while you were laying there, dead. it was his fault.

eyebrows furrowing and moving robotically, simon lets the nurse position his arms properly before she places the wailing baby into them; the infant quiets almost immediately. in that moment, simon's world narrows down to just two things - the fragile bundle of life in his arms, and the lifeless figure lying before him. the contrast between the beginning and the end, the hope and the despair, is almost too much to bear.

he reluctantly flits his eyes down to finally catch a glimpse of the newborn, and as his gaze lands on the tiny face, an overwhelming wave of sorrow engulfs him as he weeps, witnessing the uncanny resemblance the baby bears to you.

i cried writing this one.😓

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

"Yuu-Yuu hurt." Part 11

Part 1 | Part 10 | Part 12

(Warning: spoilers for Book 4)

Yuu suddenly jolts, gasping as though they were surfacing from a deep underwater dive. Still on their side, their eyes take in familiar faces that look so unusual with their open or slightly hidden relief. Yuu wasn't surprised by emotional people like Kalim, but for people who didn't usually wear their heart on their sleeves--like Leona, who somehow seemed soft despite his nonchalant air--it was. . . weird. "Guys?" they croak, their throat feeling like sandpaper.

They became concerned when some of the faces scrunched up like they would cry. "Henchman, you're awake!" Grim's voice is thick, congested. As he rambles about keeping a better eye on them and taking better care of them, Yuu remembers bits and pieces of what happened before.

Phantom screams that make their throat ache just from the memory of it. A hulking, angry entity hovering over them like both an invisible burden and a stalwart guardian, screaming with them and leaping over their head to attack whoever it wanted. Whoever they set their eyes on.

"Oh, god," they whisper. "I-I tried to kill you."

They cannot stop the tears from leaking, cannot stop their shoulders from shaking as they cry. A warm hand pats their back to comfort them and their teddy bear wipes away the tears. "I'm sorry."

"It was a lot more challenging than the other Overblots, but it wasn't anything we couldn't handle," Jack says.

"And we're Night Raven students. It's going to take more than that to take us down," Epel says assuringly.

"Besides, they had me to deal the bigger blows!" Grim boasts.

"Like you're one to talk," Ace scoffs. "We had distract the Overblot monster away from you and the teddy bear because you two rushed in without thinking!"

Maybe it was from hearing familiar bickering, but Yuu let out an airy chuckle. "Hey, what are you laughing for?" Ace complains without much irritation.

Yuu takes a breath to answer, but suddenly coughs. It worsens into hacking, and multiple hands lift and move them so their face is a few inches from the floor. A hand hits their back and a wad of ink splotches onto the ground. There are shudders among the rescue team; others grimace or gag and look away. The ones holding Yuu up tighten their hold, probably to make sure they don't accidentally drop them or to keep themselves grounded, but it kind of hurts. Yuu couldn't tell them, though, not with how difficult it was to get air into their lungs.

Eventually, Yuu began breathing steadily and quietly. If they were tired before, they were exhausted now. They feel themself being laid back down on the floor, their head coming to rest on someone's lap. If this was any other situation, they would have stiffened from the intimacy. They weren't averse to hugging and other physical affection: soft gestures like these were just far and in between in the overall student body, so they weren't used to this so suddenly.

A thumb tries to wipe the ink from their mouth, only to be replaced by a soft fabric. A warm hand rubs their arm and they feel a paw rest on their head. It was all so comforting and warm and Yuu felt as though they could finally fall asleep, knowing they were safe--it made them want to cry again.

"Yuu, try to stay awake. The medics are on their way," Jamil says. During Yuu's coughing fit, Cater realized he had signal and Idia found he could pinpoint where they all were on the map.

"It was terrible," Yuu says hoarsely. They lift their eyes, red and teary, and stare intensely at him. "It was so awful. Nothing could make it go away. I'm sorry you and the others had to go through that."

"Through what?"

"Overblot. It was painful." He doesn't say anything. He can't speak for the other Overblot survivors, but in his experience, the pain only happened in the beginning, briefly. The best way he could liken it to was a pot of milk suddenly boiling over on the stove, the heat increasing tick by tick each year until it reached a disastrous point. It scalded him inside and out during the transformation, but after that, there was only the rushing, addicting feeling of power.

For someone like Yuu, it probably just scalded them even though the residual magic clinging onto their body was used as fuel.

"It's over now, Yuu. There's nothing you need to worry about. The medics are on their way," Kalim says softly.

"It's soon, right?" Grim asks.

"Well, sort of. They're coming as fast as they can since we're in a forest and all, but the Magical Forces are on their way," Cater answers.

"Hey, Yuu! Don't close your eyes," Jamil almost yells. The Ramshackle Prefect only murmurs an apology and that they were so tired. Cater asks the dispatcher with thinly veiled worry what to do if the Overblotter passes out. As he listens, he turns away from Yuu so he doesn't show his mounting panic. The others have started to get restless too, fidgeting or starting to pace.

"Tsk. Silver, help me move them onto my back," Sebek says, which quickly gets everyone's attention.

"What? Wait, Sebek, I don't think it would be a good idea to move them since help is coming." But the green-haired freshman is already marching to where Yuu is lying on Kalim's lap.

"But it might not be soon enough." Sebek has a deep frown and Silver can imagine thunder rumbling around him. He puts a hand on Sebek's shoulder, stopping him. "I'm worried about Yuu, too, but you might get lost in the woods trying to find the mages."

Sebek growls in frustration. "But. . ."

"I can come with him." Ortho moves towards the two. "I'm equipped with sensors that can detect anyone from a distance. I can make sure we go in the right direction."

Silver and Sebek are astounded by this. "But didn't you say you're low on power?" Silver points out.

"I meant, I don't have enough to fly from here to the hospital and back. For this situation, I'm positive I have enough."

"If that is the case, then let's go."

Kalim helps Silver maneuver Yuu's body onto Sebek's back and drapes one of the jackets over them. Malleus, Lilia, and the other First Years approach, wishing the duo luck and to be careful. Idia's tablet hovers next to Ortho. "You got this."

Sebek and Ortho had just stepped outside when Grim and the teddy bear suddenly decided to tag along.

[misswynters]

Ma Meilleure Amour

featuring. ekko x fem!reader

a/n. doing my duty as a writer to fill the ekko tag with fics of him only (it’s translated to my best love)

inspired by. the song Ma Meilleure Ennemie and the scene with ekko and jinx in act iii (listen to it while reading)

Everything felt different. The streets of Zaun had the ever-present haze of smog seem softer, its grim edge dulled by the warm hum of neon lights. The streets bustled with life, as they always did, but the night gave the chaos a certain charm. The glow of green and pink signs reflected off damp cobblestones, while the occasional flicker of a malfunctioning lamp sent ripples of color through shallow puddles.

You walked side by side with Ekko, your steps slow and aimless, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn’t, of course. With how Zaun always had a way of reminding you that the clock never stopped ticking. But right now, under the swirl of lights and the faint hiss of steam vents, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.

Ekko’s hand brushed against yours every so often, and though he wasn’t one to initiate touch easily, you could tell he didn’t mind the closeness. He always had this way of being effortlessly cool, his swagger and wit making it seem like nothing fazed him. But you knew him better than most. You saw the weight he carried, the pressure of being a leader, a fighter, and a kid all at once. And tonight, you were determined to remind him what it felt like to just…be.

“Ever think Zaun’s kinda pretty at night?” you mused, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ekko glanced at you, one eyebrow raised, before looking around. “Pretty? Dunno if I’d call it that. More like…gritty with a side of a green glow.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the one waxing poetic about this place,” he shot back, his grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, maybe I’m seeing it through rose-colored glasses. Or maybe I just like walking around with you.”

That earned a chuckle from him, the sound low and warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned closer to you. “Well, when you put it that way…” The two of you wandered through winding alleys and across rickety bridges, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil. Every so often, Ekko would point out a shortcut he’d used for one of his time-bending escapades or share a story about an adventure with the Firelights.

But then he led you down a narrow path you hadn’t noticed before, his fingers brushing yours briefly to guide you. At the end of the path, you stepped into a beautiful hidden oasis. A rooftop garden tucked away from Zaun’s usual grit and grime. The first thing you noticed was the lights. Strings of mismatched lanterns crisscrossed the space, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. Tiny fairy lights were woven through the vines that climbed up makeshift trellises, their warm flicker like little stars in the night. The plants themselves were a mix of scrappy greenery and surprisingly vibrant flowers, their colors popping against the muted tones of the city below.

“Woah…” you breathed, turning to him with wide eyes.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a spot I’ve been working on.”

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from yours. “Figured it’d be nice to have a place to get away, y’know? Somewhere quiet.”

You stepped forward, taking it all in. A small wooden bench sat in the center of the garden, its surface worn but sturdy. Around it, the plants swayed gently in the cool breeze, their leaves catching the light just enough to shimmer.

“Come on,” Ekko said, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back as he guided you to the bench. “I didn’t bring you here just to stand around.”

You sat down, the wood creaking softly under your weight. Ekko settled beside you, close enough that his knee pressed against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the lights and the distant sounds of Zaun filling the space. It was a working pattern. There was always a comfortable silence between the two of you.

“How long have you been working on this?” you asked softly.

“Couple months,” he said, leaning back with his arms stretched across the bench. “Takes a while to get plants to grow in a place like this. But I dunno…it feels good to build something, y’know? Instead of just tearing things down.”

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his voice. Ekko didn’t let people see this side of him often though. I mean this was the boy who dreamed of a better Zaun, the one who carried the weight of his community on his shoulders.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just like you.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, huh?”

“Just telling the truth,” you said, closing your eyes as his warmth seeped into you.

The two of you sat like that for a while, wrapped up in the stillness of the garden. Ekko’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, like you were always meant to fit together.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For, y’know…being here.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Of course,” you said softly while winking. “You’re worth it, Ekko.”

His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, the golden light casting shadows across his face. Then he smiled. It was real, genuine smile that made your chest feel light and full all at once.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you leaned into him.

“This is nice,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “It is.”

There it was again, the comfortable silence. The garden was quiet, bathed in the golden light of the mismatched lanterns. You rested your head on Ekko’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you. His fingers were still intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing small, absentminded circles against your knuckles.

It was peaceful, almost too perfect for Zaun, where tranquility was a rare luxury. The hum of distant machinery and the faint chatter of the streets below were a backdrop to your own private world. You thought this was it, that the night couldn’t get any better. But Ekko had other plans.

Suddenly, he shifted away from you, his weight leaving the bench as he stood. His warmth leaving your body. You blinked up at him, confused as he turned to face you, his signature grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He extended a hand toward you, palm up, the glow of the garden lights reflecting in his dark eyes.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice soft but brimming with an irresistible playfulness.

You tilted your head, a laugh escaping you. “Dance? Here?”

“Why not?” He wiggled his fingers, urging you to take his hand.

You hesitated, glancing around. “Ekko, there’s no music.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

Reaching into his pocket, Ekko pulled out a small, beaten up speaker, a relic salvaged from some forgotten corner of Zaun. He fiddled with it for a moment before a warm melody crackled to life, filling the air with a gentle rhythm.

You stared at him in disbelief, your lips parting in surprise. “You planned this?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably as a proud smile broke through. “Maybe.”

Shaking your head with a soft laugh, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “Alright, Clockstopper,” you teased. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Ekko pulled you to your feet, guiding you to the center of the garden. The music swelled around you, soft and sweet, a contrast to the chaos of Zaun. His other hand found its place on your waist, and he held you close, his movements easy and unhurried. At first, you tried to match his rhythm, your steps tentative as you followed his lead. But it wasn’t long before your foot accidentally landed on his.

“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, pulling back slightly.

Ekko winced dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “You’re killing me here,” he said, his voice laced with mock pain.

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“Baby?” He laughed, spinning you unexpectedly. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, the sound of your shared laughter echoing in the garden.

The two of you continued like that, swaying and spinning under the lanterns. Every so often, you’d step on his foot again, and he’d exaggerate his reaction, making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. But then, as the song shifted to a slower melody, Ekko’s movements became gentler, more deliberate. He pulled you closer, your bodies impossibly near. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of zauns atmosphere lingering on him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The golden light reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer like they held their own constellation. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something raw and real that made your heart stutter.

“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

He didn’t say anything, just leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with everything words couldn’t express. Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around your waist. The world seemed to tilt, the glow of the lanterns and the soft hum of the music swirling around you in a haze of light and sound.

Time felt irrelevant—ironic, considering who you were with. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure.

Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lights around you. Smiling, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too,” you said, the words as natural as breathing.

Ekko grinned, his hands tightening around your waist as he pressed a series of quick, playful kisses to your face—your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. Each kiss was accompanied by a soft giggle from you, his affection spilling over in a way that was so uniquely him.

“Ekko, stop,” you laughed, trying to pull away as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Never,” he said, his voice full of mock defiance as he caught your lips in another kiss.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. The music played on, the lights flickered, and Zaun’s ever-present hum seemed softer, almost distant. As the night stretched on, you found yourselves back on the bench, your head resting on Ekko’s shoulder as he absentmindedly played with your fingers. The garden felt like a dream, a little slice of peace carved out of the chaos. And in that moment, with Ekko by your side and the glow of the lanterns above you, everything felt right. Almost perfect.

banners. @anitalenia

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

[snaileer]

We Didn’t Start The Fire

“See man, the moon!” Kid Flash said as they came outside, standing on the pile of rubble.

“And Superman! Do we fulfill our promises or what…” his voice trails off as a grinding clanking sound echoes behind them.

They turned around, confused to see a tricked out pale yellow Volkswagen bug trucking its way up the rubble and crumbled building blocks. It stopped before it got too steep, a man in a familiar white lab coat stumbling out.

Immediately, they were on guard, the man haphazardly climbing towards them.

Robin drew two batarangs in each hand, standing in front of Superboy as he got closer. It didn’t even matter that the Justice League had just landed behind them, if this CADMUS scientist tried something, Robin would be the first to defend Superboy. Without hesitance.

The man stopped in front of them, huffing for breath.

“You’re-!” He stopped, leaning over his knees with gasping breaths, “Sorry, one sec!” He held up a finger, gasping for another few seconds before stepping forward-

Chains of water surrounded him before they could blink, Robin looking back surprised to see Aqualad standing with extended weapons and a grim face.

“This is odd.” The man looked at the water wrapped around him, wriggling a bit before shrugging. His eyes zeroed in on Superboy, “You’re okay!” He said with a blinding grin.

Superboy recoiled and Robin immediately stepped between them.

“What.”

The man glanced at him briefly before looking back over Robin’s head, “You are okay right? I mean I tried my best but I couldn’t figure out a way to get you out- I mean if I’d known you were there to begin with I’d would have never-but then I wouldn’t have-

“Who are you?” Superman asks, suddenly close from behind them.

The man’s mouth clicks shut, looking between them all before a grimacing smile rises to his face.

He extends his hand at the elbow between the liquid chains, “Dr. Danny Fenton, ex-biochemical engineer of CADMUS labs Mr.Superman,sir.”

Flash zips forward, the eyes of his cowl narrowed, “Ex?”

The grimace turns into a wince. “Oh.. heh, yeah, I’ve found that arson is usually a pretty good kickstart of sudden unemployment,” there’s a thoughtful pause as he looks over the rubble, “It’s usually accidental though.”

Nobody responds.

“What? You didn’t think that lab fire started on its own did you? How else was I supposed to get you here?”

“There’s a Justice League public phone! That’s literally its entire purpose!” Kid Flash shouts, throwing his hands in the air. At this point, Aqualad cautiously lowers his water bearers, releasing Fenton.

“Oh, sure, I call a bunch of superheroes and tell them my boss is doing a Grow-Your-Own-Superman in the boiler room. That’d go over well.” He pauses, “Though the sidekicks was a surprise.”

The comment goes uncorrected, as the rest of the league has snapped to face Superboy the moment he says it.

Superman looks stricken as Superboy reveals the logo on his torn shirt.

Fenton unceremoniously breaks the tension, “Sorry I never asked, do you have a name? I’d feel really bad just calling you-“

“… They called me.. Superboy..” He says, still not looking away from the man of steel in front of him.

“That’s not-“ Fenton rubs his temples and sighs harshly, “Okay, I can fix that later, whatever-“

“You’re not gonna be ‘fixing’ anything, Doctor.” Robin snarls.

Fenton blinks. “Huh?”

Batman steps forward, “Green Lantern.”

Green construct cuffs snap around the Dr.Fenton’s wrists, though he looks at them puzzled.

“Superman, check for survivors in the damage, Flash find some salvageable evidence before it finishes burning. The rest of us, we’ll continue this interrogation at the hall.”

“Wait what?” Dr. Fenton says, perking up like a meerkat even as Batman turns away with swirl of his cape.

“What about me?” Superboy asks, desperation in his hesitant step forward.

Batman looks to Superman. Superman nods, and then shoots off into the rubble and emergency vehicles.

“For now, you come with us.” Batman says, and Superboy’s shoulders loosen just a hint.

The dark knight pauses again before turning completely, “And don’t think we’ve forgotten the rest of you,” he says, cowled eyes narrowed over his shoulder, “Robin.”

Robin shirks back, “Heh.. Right.”

“Wait what’s going on?” The Fenton scientist yelled back over his shoulder as Green Lantern pulls him away.

He starts to say something but the construct fully engulfs him now, shifting from a platform to a soundproof bubble.

It seems to shock him enough, Fenton tapping at the walls and looking like he wants to take it apart and take a sample.

Robin grit his teeth.

He was not gonna let these CADMUS freaks touch Superboy again.

Not Fenton or anybody else.