#ducks tw /j

[the-silent-hashira]

Love to hear about a reincarnation au for you and Lucifer!

i went ham so i'm just gonna put it under a readmore lmao its basically a fic now

“You know, I really am completely unimpressed with the selection of baked goods in the cafeteria here. Its like they aren’t even trying! I’ve had better food at a dive bar in Hell than this. Earth is so… Boring.”

“In Hell?” A soft chuckled came from Auriel. “You act as if you’ve been there before. I mean, I agree, Earth is rather boring and the cafeteria sucks, but I don’t think you’d be here right now if you knew what eating at a dive bar in Hell is like.”

“Of course I’ve eaten at a dive bar in Hell! Don’t you remember, Auriel? Its where we met.” Lucifer laughed, but the face on the other man was shocked to say the least.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” The voice was unsure, but curious, “I’m sure that we’ve never met… And certainly not at a dive bar in Hell…”

“... You don’t remember yet,” Lucifers face twisted into something between pain and disappointment, “Well, I suppose thats alright… It took me a bit to remember myself.”

“Uhm, I don’t,” Auriel shuffled, uncomfortable, “Sir, are you alright? I think you might be mistaken.” How do you deal with a man talking about ‘remembering’ things like hes your old friend from high school?

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, I should introduce myself! My name is Lucif- Lucien Magne. I’m-”

“You’re the new CEO,” suddenly, the other mans entire demeanor changed, as if something in him flicked a switch and knew exactly how to behave, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve noticed. My name is Auriel Soleil, I’m head of accounting! Its a pleasure, Mr. Magne.”

“... Pleasure is mine,” the others tone changed as well, now definitely showing his displeasure and disappointment.

Auriels head was suddenly swimming with possible explanations as to what could make his new boss react so poorly- sure, he was just talking rather frankly with him about things that didn’t exactly make sense, but wasn’t that just a test for him? He should’ve known who Lucien was, maybe it upset him that he hadn’t immediately known it was him and continued the prior conversation.

“ My apologies for interrupting you, sir. I should’ve-”

“I said its fine,” his voice was curt, and suddenly Auriel felt completely blocked off from him, awkwardly turning to stare forward again.

“... You act the same as you did in the beginning. Sir this, sorry that. Can’t we just be… I don’t know, normal? You don’t have to call me sir or apologize or anything like that. You really don’t remember…” He mumbled to himself, before looking back to Auriel. Clearly he was unnerved now, Lucifer could see the way his fingers tapped against his chest in an unheard rhythm, a nervous tic that seemed to have remained the exact same as he remembered.

“O-of course, si- I mean, Mr. Magne.”

“Just call me Lucien.”

“But I-”

“Please.” Ding!

“This is… My floor. Uhm, I hope you have a good day… Lucien,” and just as meekly as he spoke, the taller man quietly slipped out of the elevator with only the soft click of his heels echoing down the elevator room hallway.

“You too, Auriel.” Lucifer sighed, as the doors closed again.

—

“Ah, there you are. Its good to see you again, how are you doing?”

This time, they were standing in front of the lunch board of the cafeteria. Auriel was standing, clearly indecisive, looking intently at the board until the voice of Lucifer was suddenly next to him.

“O-oh! Si- Lucien, are you here for lunch? I’m doing alright!” He said, his voice much more confident than it had been earlier.

“I’m glad you are. I thought you might’ve turned to sludge on your way to your department with how anxious you were leaving the elevator, so I’m glad to see you’re intact. Sadly, I am here for lunch once again, looking at the piss poor excuse of a menu they have here. You’d think with as much money as this company makes they’d make a better menu available,” he said, shaking his head a little, “I could always go out to eat, but eating on your own is so boring, and rather pathetic.”

“Ahaha, yes, I suppose it would be! I tend to eat at my desk usually, but lately I’ve been finding less and less time to make myself lunches… Ever since the budget cuts, I’ve needed to work a few more hours of overtime- n-not that I’m complaining or anything, sometimes those sorts of things are necessary in order to recoup losses-”

“Its fine, you don’t have to justify yourself. Its regrettable that we’ve had to cut down on staff, but as you said, it is necessary to the company. Its why I’ve been eating here every day, why should the other employees be the only ones to eat garbage while I eat steak dinners every night? Though, I am considering maybe getting someone new to supply baked goods to the cafeteria.”

“Yes, you were saying that earlier. Admittedly, I agree, the pastries here aren’t exactly the best quality. Oh, if you want to find a good place with some really good pastries, theres a coffee shop just down the street where I get my morning coffee! They have some really astounding coffee cakes and apple turnovers.” Lucifers entire attention quickly was on Auriel.

“Apple turnovers?”

“Yes! They get fresh fruits from the farmers market every weekend, so theres always new things to try, but they stock the apple and cherry turnovers every week. I prefer the cherry, but you seem the type to like apples rather than cherries.”

“Are they still open right now?”

“They should be, why?” The genuine curiosity on Auriels face as he tilted his head to the side made Lucifer feel warm inside as a smile spread across his face.

“Lets go, then! I’ll treat you, we can get a coffee and some turnovers to go.”

“F-for lunch? Well I-” Auriel bit his lip a bit, tapping his fingers on the back of his other hand, “Alright then, I suppose that wouldn’t be terrible! Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Suddenly grabbing his hand, the shorter man basically dragged Auriel out of the cafeteria and out of the building, “Lead the way!”

Auriels brain short circuited for a moment, a vision (a memory?) of having his hand taken and pulled along through a carnival under a scarlet red sky, and being begged to play a specific game with…

“This way, I always like stopping here when I have the time. They all know me by now, its actually really nice when they already know what your order is when you walk in!”

—

The calm sound of the lake and ducks quacking along the banks of it was soothing. How he ended up here, watching his boss, the CEO of the company he worked for, chase ducks as if they were cats trying to avoid being picked up was beyond him.

“Come here, ducky ducky! Oh, you’re so pretty with your sleek coats, don’t you want some peas? I have frozen peas for you!”

“You brought… Frozen peas?” laughed Auriel, smiling as he watched the man pull out a legitimate bag of frozen peas out of a lunch box in front of him as the ducks warily stood at the lakebed.

“Of course! Bread is bad for ducks, they make them rather sick as does rice. Frozen peas are perfectly find for them to eat, though, so I always keep them on me whenever I come here,” the sound of the bag opening seemed to draw the ducks closer- clearly these ducks knew that feeding time was approaching.

“I see you come here quite often. They run from you, but the minute you opened that bag they all seem to understand you’re the food bringer.”

“I am the King of Ducks, after all,” the man squatted down, offering a handful of frozen peas out to the ducks and dropping some to the ground for them.

Those words struck something in Auriel- he’d heard that more than once before, and the smile on his face wouldn’t leave and his heart swelled in his chest. Was he okay? His heartbeat was loud in his ears, just watching this man feeding ducks seemed to make him feel… Odd.

“The King of the Ducks, ruler of the Duck Kingdom! I have to admit, its quite the prestigious title. You had to have been rather drunk when you said that, though.”

“I was quite drunk when I said it to you for the first time,” Lucifer looked back over at him, a more calm appearance on his face than the excited expression he had a few minutes earlier, “But I took it in stride, and still do. I DO love ducks, after all.”

Auriels eyebrows knit for a second, confused, but… It felt right of him to say that. A small vision of sitting in a bar, watching Lucifer drunkenly giggle with a rubber duck in his hands and saying those exact words to him.

“I’m sure you do! I bet you own an entire bathtub full of rubber ducks. Personally, I prefer-”

“Geese. Ugh,” Lucifer shuddered “Because they’re terrifying and have way too many teeth.”

“... Yes, actually. How did…?” He shook his head, “I like geese explicitly because they’re violent. I think that if people didn’t interfere with them, they’d never even bother anyone! And I find it admirable that they go to great lengths to protect their eggs! They’re beautiful creatures, and swans are related to them! I know swans are more visually pretty, but I never liked them all that much. They’re solitary animals, its rather sad to see them when they’re all alone like that.”

“They mate for life! You can’t just expect them to always move on,” Lucifer scoffed, “Sometimes you can’t move on from the person you loved for so long.”

“I think, that if I were to have someone who loved me so much that they refused to move on, I would feel very sad for them. I wouldn’t want them to remain alone forever without me. I think that they should at least try to find someone new, I wouldn’t want them to be…” Auriel trailed off, the look on Lucifers face made his heart hurt suddenly.

“... Sometimes you just don’t move on. You can’t expect that from your partner- thats for them to decide. Maybe thats what you wish for them, but they can’t help how they feel about it. Would you not date someone if they said they felt like they wouldn’t move on from a committed relationship if their partner died?” His eyes were so sad, hurt. The way his frown sat on his face, the way he avoided eye contact after the initial glance, the slight furrow to his brow…

“Of course not… I know I can’t control it, but I also wouldn’t be able to lie and say I wouldn’t be sad for them. I would want them to love and be loved, for as long as they lived. Though, I don’t think its reasonable to ask someone to die at the same time as you, so I figure that if I go first they should at least try to be happy for the rest of the time they have.”

Quiet settled over them as the ducks fed happily and Lucifer pet them.

“I think they’d die of heartbreak first.”

[infernothechaosgod]

Ngl I made a joke about mickey knowing a large amount of criminals bc he pulls crazy stuff at random

But like When you think about it he DOES know alot of criminals and while he's not friends with most of them he is friends with butch...and I think that has some real potential like imagine someone like pete or donald or a little more impulsive character meeting butch and somehow mentioning mickey and butch goes from criminal "kinda try to intimidate them" mode to "Omg michael!? My pal! My friend! Practicly my baby brother omg I taught him how to box Love that guy omg"

There are many ways in witch that conversation would go but this one is the most funny to me

Lmao

Bonus points if theres a fake out "ahaha it was all a misunderstanding mickey was helping him with retail job or something" like cmon its butch and it was long time ago oke ToT?

[antipathy-arsonist]

do. i need to add some kind of disclaimer to my intro post

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

HEY WHAT THE INEFFABLE FUCK?!

Can’t believe they chose violence like this???

[oogalybooglay]

[fishy dish!]

Start our restart au!

(You, Sebastian, and p.AI.nter finally get to your family on the beach, but, Sebastian is scared, but finally gets to eat normal food again!)

tw: swears, but its me swearing in the authors interjections and time skips because hell yeah

THIS SHOULD BE READ AFTER READING /start our restart/!!!

Sebastian had fallen asleep in the back of the van, you could hear his snoring. The back of the van was rather cramped (for Sebastian at least) so you were surprised he fell asleep, p.AI.nter moved on from sketching the clouds, and started sketching you (authors interjections: silly guy :})

soon enough, you saw your family home, and the sparkling sea next to it. It’s all just…… so much, the fact you were free, the fact Sebastian and p.AI.nter were with you, and the whole world knew your stories…..

(authors interjections: with the family home thing, don’t live near the sea? To bad! You do now 😈 /j, it’s for story purposes TRUST 🛐)

you spotted the family that could get there on the standing on the drive way (authors interjections: idk how to write this because…like… what if one of you readers don’t like the family thing?? ughhhh I’m just kduiansgemsk jelp me idk what to dooooo)

you parked, Sebastian could feel the stop in movement and raised his head and yawned,

“mmmmphhh where are….we..??”

You looked back at him, and spoke

“….home….”

you step out the car door and were rushed by your family, in a rib crushing group hug (author interjections: you had been framed, so you aren’t a criminal, if your wondering why they aren’t concerned or scared)

a tiny time skip

Sebastian was still in the car, watching you from the window, he was a social person when he was human, but now? He was a monster… what if your family is scared of him? What if they hate him? To many possibilities….you had taken p.AI.nter out of the car already, you knew Sebastian was scared, p.AI.nter really didn’t care, plus? He was a robot/Ai… kinda hard to be scared of a thing with no limbs

Your littler cousins and siblings talked to p.AInter, questioning him. You walked over to the car, and opened the door to the back of the van, and spoke to a scared Sebastian.

“what if their scared of me…?”

“they’ll LOVE you…. You’re funny and witty and…… you! That’s all that matters…”

“……….……I’m trusting you {name}”

you took Sebastian’s big hands and led him out of the car, he looked around suspiciously, your family looked shocked at his appearance,

“I told you…..!”

“Sebby… it’s ok… it’s not everyday you see someone like you, but that doesn’t mean their scared”

“Hmph…”

Your turned back to your family group and spoke,

“this is the….person…. Everyone has been raving about, he’s completely safe I swear, he’s just….different“ “yeah… different”

one of your little cousins spoke, they were young so they didn’t really know how to regulate their words

“he looks weird………but cool!”

you looked over at Sebastian, who was clearly still nervous, which was funny being that he was a 10ft tall eel/whale/mantis shrimp/angler fish, {REDATCTED}, etc, mixed mutant

time skip because I’m not writing an entire fucking scene of just that lmaooooo, I’m lazy ok? 😭

you had entered the house, that since you hadn’t seen it in a while, was basically a mansion, but smaller and not as.. rich-y. Sebastian looked around, he had to duck to get in the door, fidgeting with his hands…. His third arm by his side, your younger relatives stared at him, not even trying to hide it. You told them to knock it off, the house was big, but Sebastian REALLLY didn’t want to accidentally crush a small child so he had to be careful (authors interjections: nah, fuck them kids)

You tried to reassure him while walked around your childhood home, finally having your freedom back, p.AI.nter was interacting with the kids, and the adults looked at him with confusion. Your family had set up a room for Sebastian to conform to his….. big…. Size (authors interjections: IM NOT BODY SHAMING I SWEAR TO GOD. HES JUST 10ft LONG-)

Another time skip because I’m FUCKING LAZY.

you walked into Sebastian’s new room, he was slithering around in it, trying to make sense of the fact he was free, you spoke,

“we have food…. If you wanna eat… it’s a lot I know…. It’s probably wayyy more confusing cus you where in that god forsaken place for 11 years… you can…. come down when you want”

“…….. thank you…. For this….”

“No need to thank me sebs….”

(Author interjections: I want to kiss that fish so bad but he doesn’t exist ☹️ no fictional crush has had me wilding like this until Sebastian came into my life istg)

You walked back down the stairs and joined for family for your first meal back… it’s was… nostalgic… but welcomed… soon enough, Sebastian struggle-slithered down the stairs, he made it though. You told your family he might get a little emotional, or at least would be really nervous. And he was, poor sebby was almost shaking, where was p.AI.nter? God knows, He doesn’t have to eat but he’s easy to find soooo. Sebastian sat on his tail like he did when he was at the hadal, it was muscle memory at this point, (authors interjections: OOOOOOO IMAGINE THE CRAMPS OH MY GODDDD POOR FISHY)

He stayed silent, for someone who was always chatty. It was surprising to hear him not talking your ear off, (authors interjections: I DESPISE describing people eating, why? I DON’T FUCKIN KNOW 😭😭 IT JUST MAKES ME EWWWWAJUAKANSSJJEID, so I’m just gonna avoid it 😜)

Sebastian hadn’t had a PROPER meal in… 11 years. 11 YEARS! (Authors interjections: 11 years is gonna come up a lot get used to it LMAOO) he tried to hide the fact his tail was slightly wagging because he did not handle embarrassment good at ALLLL, and he hid his smile, you could tell though….

Your family seemed confused by him, made sense. Made a lot of sense. Tears slightly welled up in Sebastian’s three glowing eyes, you spoke,

“you good sebs?”

“I-I’m- don’t call me that!- I’m fine. I-I’m perfectly fine…”

“Im taking your word for ittttt.”

One of your relatives asked about the hadal, and what it was like in there

“……………bad… it was-“

“Hell…. It was basically hell… you weren’t safe anywhere…it’s why I’m like this…!!! Sorry-… t-to much detail-…”

Sebastian spoke, then apologized, he wasn’t wrong though….. your relatives realized they hit a sensitive topic and stopped digging about it

Sebastian finished eating, (authors interjections: that HURT to write, it’s three words but I had a VISCERAL REACTION TO THEM 😭) and struggle-slithered back up the stairs to his now room. He set up a little “nest” in the corner of the bed, putting all the pillows and blankets on the bed corner farthest from the door, being defensive was a habit hard to break…

but life was gonna be better

so. SO much better….

and Sebastian? Was ready for it

for the most part at least

KEKEKEKEKKEKEKE ITS DONEEEEE!!! I know there’s not a lot about him eating but fishy dish is such a good title I can’t change it- 😭😭

also, don’t be afraid to comment! Criticism, praise (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE-) things you found cute or funny? Anything! (Be nice please I’m sensitive -☹️ (/j))

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 2)

Ledger!joker x fem!reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job pt 2✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, threat of murder/injury mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

Part 2:

Gothamites were already in a near-constant state of hypervigilance, a kind of ptsd that came with living in the city. After the most recent bout of escalating crimes, from both the mob and this 'joker', everyone was in a state of near paranoia. No one trusted their fellow man.

The joker's men offloaded what seemed like almost an entire clip as soon as we hit the sidewalk. The street erupted into chaos around us. People screamed and ducked out of sight. A cyclist crashed into the back of a car at the stoplight as he looked around for the source of the noise. A woman ran down the sidewalk with her child strapped into its buggy, practically ramming it into other panicked pedestrians as she fled. People pushed and shoved one another to fight their way indoors to take cover. Workmen on the corner ditched their tools and booked it in the opposite direction.

"We can keep her company in the back, boss," he offered, and my stomach knotted istelf at the thought of exactly what kind of company he had in mind.

Of course, the psychopath leading me by my hands through all of this drank it in. He revelled in the destruction which seemed to orbit him. Traffic swerved around us as I was half dragged across the street to their van. My bare feet were grazed and dirtied by the time his men threw open the back doors. They tossed the duffle bags inside and clambered in after them, one of them grabbing for my arms.

The joker's voice dipped down low, into a kind of growl.

For a moment I thought about trying to make a break for it. You should never go to the second location, that's what they say about kidnapping. As though he had read my mind, he placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and his dark eyes fell on me.

"No, she's riding shotgun, not in the back with the dogs," he slammed the doors on them before anyone could respond to his insult.

"Don't even think about trying to run," he leaned in close enough to whisper the rest of what he had to say directly into my ear, "you wouldn't make it, and it would be such a disappointment to have to shoot you."

Defeatedly, I climbed into the passenger seat and he darted round to the drivers side. This had to be a new record, even for the GCPD, for world's slowest police response. The sound of oncoming sirens was only just now beginning to get near enough to be noticeable.

He pulled back again, his twisted features taking on an exagerratedly pained look. Everytime I saw his face I felt physically sick. It wasn't his scars, of course, but the nightmarish paint, streaked and smeared across his face, and the way it moved and contorted into all kinds of uncanny shapes as he spoke.

"That's our cue to go!" He exclaimed, erupting into one of his fits of laughter as we accelerated down the now eerily empty street.

"You should put your seatbelt on, doll," he grinned. reaching a hand out toward me.

He was silent for a moment, shooting me a glance or two to the side. He seemed to be a little taken back by my behaviour, and it was as though I could see him recalculating.

Without thinking, I instinctively slapped it away. Immediately, I froze for a second, terrified what his reaction would be. I expected to be struck.

Shaking, and with considerable difficulty, given that my hands were still taped together at the wrist, I fastened my own belt. We rolled down the entrance ramp and into the subterranean road network. The joker seemed to be completely unfased as a line of cop cars tore past us going in the opposite direction, sirens blaring and blue lights strobing by.

"Okay, but it's your funeral," he shrugged as we blew another stop light and veered sharply left onto main avenue, headed for the road tunnels.

He tapped the fingers of one hand on the steering wheel and was humming some unintelligible tune under his breath as we pulled into a particularly rough looking, even by my standards, district of downtown. I felt like I was having an out of body experience, or some kind of fever dream. The van swerved round several corners as the city lights passed by in a blur and my heart lurched around in my chest - I felt like it was strung up with bungee cord. Finally as we rolled through an abandoned looking neighbourhood, he was very heavy on the brakes and we jolted to a stop in a grimy looking alleyway.

I had only just stashed it when I was unceremoniously dragged out of the passenger seat, with both my feet immediately landing in a murky puddle. The rain drizzled down, illuminated by the single flickering streetlight above us. Two of the men quickly got into the front of the van and drove their haul away, likely to somewhere like the docks for safe keeping until the buzz and police interest died down.

As he got out, he took a moment to knock his first against the side of the van, signalling that it was clear for his men to offload. In this briefest of moments, he didn't have eyes on me and I frantically looked around me for anything of use to me. I grabbed a ballpoint pen from the dashboard and hurriedly stuffed it into my dress. Glancing down I caught sight of a screwdriver in the footwell. Well it certainly wouldn't be a bad idea to have that hidden on me, so I managed to grab it and stuff it down into the half loosened corset.

Again, I weighed up my chances of running from them. The odds weren't in my favour - we were in a dead part of town, in the dark, and I had no idea where I'd go for help. Plus, my hands were still taped and I was in a ridiculous dress. The joker practically barked his orders at the remaining men and they scattered to the four winds, dispatched to do god only knows what.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asked, in a kind of stage whisper.

Part of me was relieved that they were gone: I was, by definition, no longer outnumbered, but the realisation that I was now alone with the man who had so recently threatened to bring an entire city to a standstill was a horrifying prospect. A man with a total disregard for human life on the whole, a man who had shot dead one of his own men on a whim not even an hour ago. I shuddered a little.

My face betrayed my panic.

"What are you going to do to me?"

He seemed to find this very funny, erupting into laughter so intense that he bent double for a moment. I felt a lump rise in my throat.

As suddenly as it started, his laughter abruptly stopped and he straightened up with a much flatter expression.

Again, I felt like this was some kind of sick joke that was lost on me.

"I'm not going to do anything to you".

"Then why the fuck am I here?" I gestured wildly around me at the alleyway, "why am I here in this ridiculous dress and no shoes, in some shady back-alley!"

He cocked his head to the side.

"You tell me, doll, 'cause my men didn't take your shoes."

His gestures seemed to be wordlessly saying "you know i'm right!".

The familiar clack of the switchblade suddenly commanded my full attention. The joker shifted forward and placed the blade up to my throat. He didn't say anything but I understood well enough what he was saying. Don't get comfortable: I can kill you at any point. On a whim, like his man who was left face down in a pool of his own blood on the marble tiles.

I shook my head, almost hoping the action would clear it and none of this would be real. I was shivering from the cold and rain. The dress was off-the-shoulder, and my feet were still submerged in icy water. I started to worry that hypothermia or treading on a rusty nail and getting tetanus might kill me before the man in front of me got around to it.

My eyes met his own, and I couldn't help but wonder how few people had seen him this close up and lived to tell the tale. He clamped his free hand onto my forearm and began to pull me to a fire escape ladder mid-way down the alley. It didn't quite reach all the way to the floor, the last rung being a couple feet above the ground. His grip on my arm was so foreceful that it hurt.

When we reached the ladder he put the knife between his teeth, clambered up and offered a hand to pull me up. This day was so totally fucked up.

I thought again about running, but I didn't think i'd make it out of the alley before he caught me, so reluctantly I took his outstretched hand. He was stronger than you might have expected, and managed to lift me up far enough that I could get my feet on the start of the ladder. The bars were slippery from the rain and I tried not to look down as we climbed, struggling against the dress as I did so. We came up to a sort of balcony window two floors up, and he swung up the old sash and gestured for me to climb through. I did it as quickly as possible, not being at all comfortable with the idea of my back being to him while he still had the knife. I landed on my knees on the wood floor and cursed as I scrambled to my feet again.

I turned around to see him inside and sliding the window back down. Suddenly I felt so stupid for not trying to run; now I was trapped here instead.

"You'll, uh, have to excuse the state of the place. You see, I don't usually have guests," he said, gesturing to the apartment as he flicked on the lightswitch.

Again we were back to talking as though he hadn't just held a knife to my throat just moments ago. I shook my head in silent disbelief.

"Something amusing to you?" Asked my captor as he paced by the window.

I looked around me at the half-abandoned apartment. Suddenly, my own place didn't seem so bad, though it wasn't such a massive step down that they were totally incomparible - no, if anything it made me question why I was paying rent if this was what was on offer for free. The main difference was upkeep, and maybe some personal items. I started to think this place could be quite nice if it was cleaned up and decorated and laughed a little to myself.

I abruptly stopped.

"Oh, er, I was just thinking I miss my shitty apartment," I stammered out.

"So, you've brought me here. What do you - what is your plan?" I said shakily, shivering from the cold and still wired with anxiety.

He said nothing, but placed the open knife on the table and dropped down onto the beaten up couch.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Plan? Do I really look like a guy with a plan?" He asked, spreading both arms out against the back of the couch.

"Well, you say that... but I've seen the news. All of that takes planning. A lot of planning actually..." I began.

I shifted anxiously, as part of me wondered if I should make a grab for the knife on the table... but then it occurred to me that he had probably left it there deliberately. Was he testing me? Didn't he just love to see what desperate people would do? That was his M.O. if the recent events were anything to go by. What would I even do if I did grab it, was I really going to stab him? He'd see it coming from a mile off even if I had the guts to follow through.

"Yes, you do some things on a whim, like shooting that guy earlier, or bringing me here... but that heist took planning and preparation."

He cocked his head to the side, a glint in his dark eyes again. Unsettled by his silence, I continued.

"You're quite perceptive, aren't you?" He hummed.

A sly kind of smile spread itself across his face, which told me I was right.

"I think, people underestimate me. When so many ignore you or... don't want to look at you, you can see things from the outside. You see the things that they miss," I thought aloud.

"Tell me, do you find it hard to look at me?" He probed, approaching me.

He made another kind of affirmative hum, and stood up again.

"Yes," I murmured, struggling to look him in the eyes as he stopped about an arms length from me.

I swallowed, my throat feeling dry. What was the use in lying? He and I had just revealed that we would both know it if I did.

"And, why is that?"

He reached out a hand to touch my rain soaked hair, tucking it behind my shoulder.

"Because, you -" I was struggling for the words, feeling as though this was an interrogation and the light was blinding, burning hot on me - only he was the light.

He leaned in close, close enough that I could have touched his face. I tried to force myself to look directly at him, not wanting to give in.

"Because I look like this?" He gestured to his face, but I realised, consciously or not his hand hovered over his scars specifically.

"Isn't that a little hypocritical?" He growled sounding almost disappointed.

He seemed taken aback by this.

"I think you've misjudged me again," I said hurriedly in protest.

"Oh?" He mused, placing a heavy hand on the crook of my neck.

"I find it hard to look at your face because of the makeup. Which is part of why you wear it, so you shouldn't be surprised by that. I think... i think part of you would prefer it if it really was the scars I found ugly. But you're wrong..." I couldn't stop myself from shaking so hard that it was difficult to speak.

I watched his face as he seemed to be turning over my words in his own mind, weighing up whether to believe me. Again spurred on by his silence I continued.

"Of course, everyone has the initial shock and the gut reaction of repulsion when they see my scars. That is just human nature and the way society has conditioned us, even the most polite, the kindest people. It's a sub-conscious reflex. So, what i'm saying is, that first split second, maybe, I was afraid because of them, I'll grant you that much... but you then also have to admit you had tge same reaction to mine. I saw it."

A strange glimmer of something akin to... affection found its way into his features. I didn't know what to make of it.

He shook his head.

"Am I wrong?" I pressed, anxiously.

"No".

I sighed a little in relief.

He pulled me forwards and planted a rough kiss on my forehead, much to my horror, but thankfully that was all it was. He drew back looking down at me as I continued to shiver, dripping wet, bare footed and brusied. My eye was stinging from both my injury and my mascara running down my face. It was as though he seemed to actually be more tuned in to my presence now, and he astonished me still further by taking off his long coat and placing it around my icy shoulders.

"You," he wagged a finger at me, "I knew there was something special about you. That's why I brought you here... you're..." his eyes combed over my face as he searched for the words," you are magnificent."

Next part below:

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 3)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

TW: brief gaslighting in this chapter

A/N: And now, back by unpopular demand, me! It took me a bit longer than usual to brain out this chapter, mainly because I’ve been replaying Breath of the Wild to prepare for Tears of the Kingdom. Fun fact, for one innocuous paragraph in this chapter, I had to google very basic knowledge just to get by. Extra credit if you can guess which one it was. /j And now, without further ado, I present: chapter 3.

Tag list: @tikosan @itsyellow @twerkingnutella18 @azoart @elegantkidfansoul @cutsieskull @delvira-only-baby @anaki-kuroshi @jellyfish-fish

Prev

The first thought in my mind when I wake up in a heap on the floor of my foyer is something along the lines of “My bones feel like rusty springs.” Who would have thought falling asleep against a door after a long, stressful day would cause every bone in your body to creak in protest with every bend and stretch? Not even a minute of consciousness and it’s apparent that leaving the house is gonna be a pain in more ways than one today.

The second thought is “Whoever just knocked on my door is dead to me.” Which, I will admit, is a bit harsh, but the headache that rears up from the sound compounded by the burn of every joint in my body would make anyone just a tad grouchy.

Against my body’s wishes, I force myself up off the ground, the sound of joints popping ringing in my ears. Some of the pain subsides with the release of pressure, but it’s clear that a good long soak in a hot bath will be necessary later. I allow myself a good, long stretch to wring out any remaining bubbles before relaxing with a heaving breath and opening the door.

The large stranger is smiling with an air of patience, as if he already knew of my predicament. He’s dressed rather simply: a button up shirt, a multicolored tie, and plain slacks. The emblem on his hat and bag signifies that he’s the mailman, which in hindsight should have been obvious considering the two letters clutched in his hands.

“Well, hey there, neighbor!” His voice holds the heavy twang of a southern accent that’s imbedded itself deep into his soul. “Don’t reckon we’ve met yet, have we?” His empty hand extends itself towards me as he proclaims, “Name’s Eddie.”

You’d think I’d be more accustomed to the sheer friendliness of the people around here, and yet I still have to take a moment to register the greeting and introduce myself. After a firm handshake, he offers me the mail in his other hand. “Got a couple letters for ya. You sure made friends fast!”

I let out a chuckle as I take the envelopes. “Guess I did, huh?” I respond as I take a quick glance at the two letters. One is a bright shade of pink, the other a cool blue. I look back up at the friendly man. “I’m kind of embarrassed to admit I didn’t know there was a post office here,” I say sheepishly.

To my relief, Eddie laughs. “Guess we are a pretty small neighborhood, but every town needs a mailman.” He pats his mailbag for emphasis, and I hear the light crinkling of paper rustling around inside. “Letters ain’t gonna deliver themselves, you know.” He spares a glance at his watch to check the time. “Speaking of, I still got a few more stops on the route, so I’d best be leaving.”

“Oh, alright!” I say with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to keep you. Have a nice day!”

“I will, you have a nice day, too, neighbor!” With a grin and a wave, Eddie sets off while whistling a tune. I watch him walk away for a moment before ducking back into my house and shutting the door. I debate reading the letters right there in the foyer, but my decision to skip dinner the night prior seems to have upset my weary body, which lets out a growl of hunger. The sudden realization of just how starving I was propelled me into my kitchen, where I haphazardly tossed the letters onto the table. Breakfast first, then social life.

As I start to prepare a simple meal, I happen to catch of whiff of myself.

…a bath. Breakfast, a bath, then social life.

—————————

It’s a little past midday when I finally wander back into my dining room, the worst of the muscle pain having dissolved in hot, soapy water. The feeling left me sleepy, and I only came back to grab a quick snack from the fridge before taking a nap. However, the garish colors of the envelopes lying askew on the table are a reminder that I forgot to get around to reading them.

With a vague feeling of guilt for having functionally ignored my neighbors, I grab the envelope on top first, which happens to be the pink one. A scan of the address reveals the sender to be none other than Julie. I huff out a laugh. I should’ve guessed. After a trip to the junk drawer to locate my letter opener, I unfold the paper (Why does it smell like flowers? Does she put perfume on her parchment?) and lean against the table as I read.

Dear Neighbor,

Hope you’ve been feeling better! You seemed a little anxious at the picnic and I’ve been rather worried. I talked to Frank and he said you just weren’t adjusted to the neighborhood yet. So, I had an idea! I’d like you to come over to my house today to play with me and Frank! We still have plenty of treats leftover and a ton of games we didn’t get to play. I think we’ll all be the best of friends!

Lots of Love,

Julie Joyful <3

The whole paper is covered in doodles of hearts and smiley faces and it brings a smile to my face. I smooth the letter out as best I can. When the wrinkles are all gone, I grab a few magnets and hang it up on my fridge. My first letter! I really do make friends fast. As I beam at the page, picking up the other letter, a sense of calm washes over me. A fun day with two of my lovely neighbors. Just what I need to take my mind off-

I don’t move for a second. My eyes stay glued down to the deep blue envelope held in my hands. I know it’s a bit silly to be so scared of a simple name neatly printed on a piece of paper, but that acknowledgment does little to comfort me. All I can do is stare at the letter.

The letter from Wally.

I breathe in. I breathe out. In. Out. In. Out. I let my hand drift back down, setting the envelope and whatever it might hold within back onto the table. It almost feels dangerous to let my eyes linger on it. I walk away, leaving the kitchen without the snacks I once intended to grab.

I’m not hungry anymore.

—————————

Julie’s house is every bit as bright and cheery as the woman who lives there. The colors border on overwhelming, both the exterior and interior being so vibrant you could make out all the furniture in the dead of night. The smell of grass, flowers, and a hint of sugar waft through the air. It’s the kind of place you can enter and know deep down you’re gonna be safe. But the single most stunning feature of her home has to be the flower garden.

I enter under a beautiful picket fence arch which has long been overtaken by interwoven pink roses. Those same roses line the garden, weaving around each other and the white stakes in the ground. Bushes of multicolored hydrangeas line the back of the house, and stepping stones made of pebbles and small glass stones forge paths through the flowerbeds. In the middle of it all is a clearing in which a yellow blanket lies covered with tea cakes and sandwiches.

I’m so wrapped up in the scenery that I bump into Frank as he carries a small tea set to the blanket. The two of us both jump in surprise, and the cups wobble on the tray for a moment before they level it out to keep them balanced. I put a hand on my chest to calm myself. “I’m so sorry!” I exclaim. “I got distracted, are you alright?”

Frank huffs a bit as he continues to make his way toward the blanket. “I’m fine, neighbor. No harm, no foul.” They lower the set to the ground, careful to keep it steady. Once he seems sure of its integrity, he looks up at me, a hint of exasperation on his face. “Just, please pay a bit more attention to where you’re going.”

With a wave of anxiety, my hands move to tuck near to my chest and tug at each other, eyes averted to a patch of daffodils. “Yeah, I’ll try. It’s just…” My sentence trails off as I admire the intricacies of the garden around us. I manage to turn back to him. “This place is incredible, isn’t it?”

Frank stands up and takes a look around too, an air of peace overtaking his grumpy exterior for a moment. “It really is. Julie works hard to keep it like this, and it really pays off.” I murmur an agreement, and we both take in our surroundings in silence for a minute or two.

The sound of the back door swinging open appears in my periphery, and a familiar, chipper voice follows it shortly. “Oh, you’re early!” Julie steps out and joins us, the small plate of warm sugar cookies in her grasp sending steam into the air. “I didn’t think you’d show up for another half hour. I’m so happy to see you!” She moves the plate to her left hand, wrapping her right arm around me in a half hug. I’m ushered back towards the blanket, and the three of us all settle down in the middle of the garden. I don’t waste a moment before picking up a sandwich and taking a bite.

We don’t chat much while we eat, though Frank does have to remind Julie not to talk with her mouth full a time or two. She seems eager for us to finish eating so we can get to the games, the buzzing energy around her so infectious that I find myself rushing to finish my lunch so I can find out what she has planned. She’s done within minutes, and it doesn’t take long before I’m also licking the errant sugar sprinkles from my fingers. We chatter about everything and nothing as Frank works their way through their meal, seeming immune to Julie’s impatience.

After a good long while, Frank finally wipes his mouth and begins to pile up our dirty dishes onto the tea tray. It doesn’t even take a second for Julie to already be on her feet, bouncing in excitement. “Are we ready? Can we play now? What should we do first?”

“First, we should clean up.” Frank seems to be struggling to balance everything as he stands up, and I hurry to my feet to take the tray from him. They murmur out a brief thank you as they push themself off the blanket. “It’s not a good idea to start running around with glass on the ground. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Once he regains his bearings, he kneels down to pick up the remaining few plates and a few scattered pieces of trash. “We should probably take the blanket in, too, so we don’t trip over it.”

Taking the cue, Julie bends down to pull the yellow blanket from the grass, folding it into a messy pile in her arms. “Good idea, Frank! Come on!” Not seeming concerned with waiting for Frank and me, she disappears in a flash of pink into her house. The two of us glance at each other, chuckling as we follow behind, the clinking of china marking our footsteps.

The dishes have only just touched the kitchen counter when Julie darts back into the room. She notices my looking towards the sink and rushes to say “Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean all of them later. Let’s just go!” I match her smile as I follow her back outside with Frank tailing behind.

The next couple of hours seem to soar by, the boundless energy given off by the pastel woman so contagious that I don’t even realize how exhausted I am until I stumble and fall during a game of shadow tag and find that I don’t feel like getting up. I instead stay flopped over panting in the grass, arms outstretched, staring at the sky as the shades of blue begin to fade to soft arrays of green, orange, and pink. A grey face pops into my view, peering at me from the side with their eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? That was a pretty rough fall.” Still trying to catch my breath, I offer a thumbs up in lieu of a verbal response. Frank seems satisfied with that, and lowers himself to the ground far more gently than I had.

He’s at once nearly bowled over by Julie, who if I didn’t know better almost seems a little winded herself. With residual giggles, she says, “Wow, I haven’t gotten to play for so long in ages! I knew we were gonna get along great!”

It’s a tad awkward being the only person fully lying on the ground. I funnel all my self discipline into propping myself up, opting to lean back on my hands to continue taking in the scenery above my head. My eyes sweep over it all, noting telltale specks of stars as the sun slips away to reveal them from behind the blue. I don’t think I’ve ever such a beautiful view of the sky before.

“I agree, it’s incredible.” Frank’s voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin. It takes a second to register that I must’ve let that last sentence stray from my mind to my tongue. I keep my focus upwards, hoping no one noticed my embarrassment. It appears to have worked as he continues, “It almost looks like a painting.”

A painting. A simple, commonplace thing that shouldn’t churn my stomach, but I still feel my heart drop at the words. In my periphery, Julie leans in with a giddy look on her face. “Speaking of, you and Wally seemed to have fun yesterday. Why, you two were out by the woods so long, Poppy almost sent out a search party!” She laughs, and I deem myself lucky that she didn’t notice the blood drain away from my head.

A pale imitation of a laugh comes out with the words, “Yeah, I guess we did…” The silence in the air grows thick, for me if not for the others. The rational and empathetic sides of my brain are waging war once more, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Does… does he ever make you guys feel…” I trail off, struggling to find the words with two sets of eyes now focused on me. “…nervous?”

Frank’s head tilts, and he appears puzzled. “What do you mean? Why would he?”

My head begins to sink into my neck, like a turtle hiding from danger. “It’s just, I always feel like he’s staring at me, and some of the things he says while he does it come across a bit… off. Y’know?”

“Oh, that’s just how Wally is!” Julie bats at the air as if to dismiss the notion. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

As I begin to stutter out my disagreement, Frank asserts, “She’s right. He doesn’t mean any harm. You just haven’t gotten used to him yet.”

“I mean, I guess.” I push myself off my hands, the need to articulate my emotions taking over in my flustered state. “But, I got used to you guys and Poppy and Eddie within minutes. Wally just makes me feel uncomfortable.” The words are tumbling out now, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

When I force my eyes upward, Julie’s are already meeting them, and my gut wrenches at the uncharacteristic dour edge to her appearance. “It’s rude to talk about people like that behind their back, neighbor. He’s been nothing but lovely to you since you got here, and it’s not nice for you to treat him like some kind of threat.” A glance at Frank reveals a similar sentiment in his appraisal of me, and shame builds up within my heart. Against my will, tears begin to burn my eyes and mist my vision.

Unable to take it any longer, I push myself up. “I think I should go.” Neither of them tries to stop me. I pass through the magnificent greenery, knowing that the memory of it is going to have a permanent black mark tied to it. My hand settles on the garden gate, and I hesitate for a brief moment before deciding on “Thank you for the lunch, and for the games.” A mutter akin to that of ‘you’re welcome’ is heard behind me, and with that, I set off for my home.

The sky continues its transition to the night, and I solemnly await for the colors to fade so I can no longer see the brushstrokes in the heavens.

[thelaundrybitch]

Snoot Smooches

TURTLE DOVES

It's been a hot minute.

BUT I'M BACK!

And with the help of @leosgirl82 who assisted in these absolute shenanigans!!!

So please enjoy some Valentine's Day fun 💖💖💖

TW: Swearwords and Shenanigans

Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though 🤩

Snoot Smooches

You've been with your turtle boyfriend for years, and you have a very good relationship with him and his brothers. You love each of your boyfriend’s brothers completely platonically - and they all know that.

However, you do love some shenanigans, and Valentine's Day is coming up. So you decide to decorate the lair in pinks and reds.

And you've made an executive decision on a new tradition.

Valentine's Day Mistletoe…

Hang the shit EVERYWHERE 

Hide it in drawers around the lair for quick grabbing access 

Hell, keep some in your pockets so you can sneak attack 

Absolutely carry it around on a fishing rod, like you would with a donkey and a carrot 

BUT have fun trying to explain the mistletoe fishing rod to your turtle bf....

"I'm TRYING to kiss your brothers! Do you MIND?!"

Your turtle bf be like 🤨🤦🏾‍♂️🤷🏾‍♂️

“Fine. But don't come running to me when you're in trouble”

Game on

Leo

Leo would be a gentleman and let you snoot smooch him

But be horrendously embarrassed about it 

Internal screeching

If turtles could blush

He's gonna be the one that's probably secretly wiping it off after you’ve skipped away victoriously

Texts his brother immediately to tell him about your shenanigans

Freaking tattle tale

He gets a second snoot smooch

As punishment 

Raph

Facepalm

From him

To you

Also 'biffed' 

*Biff* - To smack one's palm heel against the offender's forehead.

He would absolutely use the one finger on the forehead method to push you back 

With that look of HAve you LOSt your DaMN MinD?

OR he'd be grabbing both shoulders and spinning you to do an about-face and just say, "Nope."

Just keeps bringing you back to your bf like, "KEEP HER OCCUPIED"

He'd be so done with your shit by the end of the first week

Just wearing him down. 

Day by day. 

Like the annoying little sister that won't quit 

And it's easier to just get it over with 

Finally, he'd be like 

"FINE! ONE!"

But he'd honk your nose or some shit and drag you back to your bf

Don

I can see Don being an absolute asshole to you

Calls your bluff

He's gonna be the one who wets his lips for a slobbery smooch

You'll be walking up

With your donkey stick

And a maniacal smile across your face

Wiggling the brows like two dancing caterpillars

And he'll look horrified

But only for a split second 

He'll start licking his lips so they are super spitty

Then get up and chase you around with duck lips

You'll be screaming NOOOO! like a five-year-old trying to get away from the icky older brother

Insert slappity slaps when he captures you

Mike

This one, you'd have to keep one eye on. 

Mike. He's always their wild card. He likes to keep you on your toes

But mostly his brothers.

He's such a shit

NO SHAME

He'd be sliding in all puckered up

Right here, babes... Pointing to his lips

He's all in

Wants ALL the smooches

Will turn his face right before you land said kiss so he gets an actual smooch

Then run through the lair yelling about it like the town crier

Bonus Turt Time

Jehannet (J)

Would be super sweet and accept said smooch

Prefers a cheek kiss.

But will let you snoot smooch him

Then after your sweet little kissy-poo, he'd suddenly be like, "I LoVe KiSsEs"

And grab you to smooch a barrage of kisses all over your face while you squawk and squirm trying to get away

Totally makes sure he does it in front of the brother you’re dating

Just to get a reaction 😂

Basilio

Good luck with Basilio LOL

*goes in for snoot smooch, ends up in headlock* 

Walks you back to your Turt BF in said headlock

"I think this is yours"

"Oh, thanks Bayz! A bit closer, though… I'm at the perfect height to kiss my bf," you sass him - whilst your head is at crotch level

Bayz: let's go immediately and walks away with his hands in the air

Later on, Basilio would be standing under one, not realizing it was there.

You'd try to sneak attack him

But dude is a weathered ninja, so he'd slip away at a speed walk

And you would chase him.

Yelling that he can't outrun tradition!

And true to character, Mike and J would chase Basilio and pin him down so you could get a smooch in LOL

Wanna know more about J & Bayz?

Jehannet

Basilio

also, always feel free to shoot me an ask 💖

Enjoying my work? Find my Master list HERE

~Tags~

@leosgirl82 @leoandraphssoulmate @sharpwindow @eveandtheturtles @ninjaintheshadow @scholastic-dragon @tmnt-tychou @replicasey @meowph-132 @symmetricalkazekage @tinkabelle19 @miss-andromeda @drowninghell @raphslovemuffin80 @xanadu-702 @iheartchv @justalotoffanfiction @zombiesnips-blog @fyreball66 @yorshie @fluffytriceratops @pheradream-15 @memes-in-a-half-shell @sais-matters @kikithedreamerwriter @peaches4daddy @shakeyourtrees @happymoonangel

*If you aren’t on this list, please let me know if you want me to tag you in my other work or if you prefer me to not tag you 😘

[dorislitterbox]

SERIES: Echo Of Dreams

Synopsis: 7 dream, a group of friends at school, has caught themselves in a dilemma. A new virus outbreak has started near their school, the seven of them will have to stick together in order to survive.

TW: character death, zombies, death, gore (blood, bones, decay), angst, anything that irks you about zombies, offing ones own life.

masterlist

©DORISLITTERBOX all rights reserved

do not copy my work. 1k+ words

A/N: Hey cznies, hope you like the first part of this series, if you enjoyed it please like, reblog and follow. Updates should be pretty frequent.

1. Everyone Hates Mondays

The weeks leading up to summer vacation were tedious to say the least. A group of seven boys had a knack for skipping morning classes on Mondays, choosing to meet up at lunch time to engage in a bit of chat until their extracurriculars began.

Mark Lee the designated 'leader' of the group, sat at one of the corners of the table. Usually, he would opt to wear proper school attire but on this particular Monday it was far too hot to wear anything other than the basic dress pants, shirt and vest the school provided. His blonde hair stood out among the crowd of students, who in contrast to him, all wore their hair in natural colors. Chenle sat facing Mark, he had basketball practice in the afternoon so he chose to wear sweatpants and a short sleeved dress shirt for a quick change. Lee Haechan, notorious for being the troublemaker of the group sat next to their leader, complaining, once again, about the texture of the food they got served.

"I just can't understand why our school just won't feed us decent food, this shit has been the same flavorless slop for years" Haechan loudly exclaimed.

"I think the purpose of the food is too keep us alive for the day, not exactly to be a five star Michelin meal" stated Mark. Chenle giggled at the older boys attempts at damage control.

Haechan scoffs, "I should file a complaint to Renjun, I heard he got elected for Head of Student Council, maybe he can take my complaints to the school administrators."

"So you got wind of the news" said Renjun plopping down next to Chenle, " I got Head position".

" I expected nothing less from our model student, congratulations!" Haechan starts to clap loudly in the rather quiet canteen causing other students to join in on his boisterous celebration for his friend. Renjun ducks his head down and silently cursed at him at the poignant display of celebration. The other three wheeze with laughter at Renjun's humiliation, "Now I can get 'my friend is the Head of student council' privileges" Haechan states.

"You wish, I already marked you down for not being in proper school attire". Renjun fires back

"What the heck? you know that this look is my signature style" he said pointing to his black shirt which was an obvious violation of the school dress code, "White washes me out, if I can't be the smartest I can sure as hell be the hottest". The comment collected a cumulative groan from all the boys at the table, " What? it's not like it's a huge problem, I'll just wear my school jacket over it." he says raising his hands.

"What did we miss?" 3 boys approached the table. A tall boy with black hair that was buzzed at the sides, another with light pink hair and one with a dark brown shade. All of three of them had similar broad shoulders and strong statures. "We heard clapping from here and assumed that Haechan was up to one of his antics" joked the black haired boy.

With only six chairs at the table, the boy with the pink hair skillfully plucked an unoccupied chair from an adjacent table and sat down at the head of the table. "I can only assume it's because our class president got Head of StuCo" he teased Renjun, lightly shaking his shoulders.

"How come you three look like a boy band?" questioned Mark, as the three boys wore similarly styled clothes.

The pink haired boy sets down his utensils and clapped to gain the attention of everyone at the table. "Triple J" he says with gusto.

"What!?!" Haechan and Chenle laugh out.

"Ya, stop laughing, it stands for Jaemin, Jeno and Jisung" Jaemin says proudly.

"I mean that's obvious but what's the occasion?" Chenle says.

"We are starting a new gym club at school" Jeno says while digging into his home-cooked meal of chicken breast and rice. Jisung nods in agreement. "It was only right to name it after ourselves".

"I suggested "Narcissism", you know to encourage confidence, but the school administrators said it was too inappropriate for school". Jaemin complains.

Mark who had been on his phone, suddenly stilled in his seat. " Yo guys there's news of some attacks near the school, apparently some kids are fighting... no biting one another?"

"What? that's absurd, probably the weird stoner kids getting freaky" joked Haechan. Jeno, Jaemin and Chenle sharing a laughter at the comment. While Renjun and Jisung got up from their seats and huddled around Mark's phone.

"Bro that's freaky" Jisung said, "Why do they look like that?"

"What if its a zombie outbreak?" Renjun ponders.

"What are you on about?" Haechan rolls his eyes and casts his eyes on Mark's phone, " Wait why do they look like that?"

A loud bang on the canteen window startles the 7 boys. A girl starts to scream at the students from outside, but nothing is heard as the windows were reinforced to be soundproof. Renjun tries to read the lips of the girl. When he manages to decipher her desperate pleas and the words 'help me' escapes his own lips the girl is suddenly thrown to the ground by a boy. The canteen sits in silence. Until blood splatters across the panes of the windows like a gruesome painting. Some scream, some are paralyzed by shock and some get up to access the mauled body.

"Get the fuck up we're getting out of here" states Renjun. Everyone gets up from the table. Jaemin and Jeno gear up with chairs while Haechan fills his pockets with the biscuits that were served to them and Mark proposes they make their way to the second floor and hunker down in a classroom. Their actions are halted by the sound of glass shattering. The world went silent, the window was broken, they were going to get in. The realization washes across the mind of every boy at that table like a cool breeze, leaving them frozen in fear. The words 'run!' pierces their dazed state before they dash out of the doomed canteen.

[babydollcries]

Highschool/College Scenarios with 5wirl + Scara⛄️

Some fluff scenarios with 5wirl + scara, some are a bit short and scaras is a but long so sorry.

TW! slight nsfw with scaras

>Highschool/college partner!heizou - he would always pick you up once class is over, he would bring you to the cafe that is connected to the library and let you order stuff. While studying for your finals, most of the time he would tease you and you would get distracted by his flirty pick up lines. He would kiss your cheek from time to time while you both study. He rarely studies even while being with you but always ends up with better scores than you. You can’t think of how he is able to score more than you even though he barely studies….(he’s just cheating LMAO /j he’s just really smart he doesnt need to study)

Highschool/college partner!xiao - similar to heizou, he doesnt study because he knows he’s too smart for it. He would be your personal tutor to help you on your tests and exams. Everytime you aren’t getting tutored by him for the test this week, you would get a low score. During your tutoring time with him, if you manage to get a question correct he would kiss your cheek and if you pass on your test/exam then he promised to take you out or buy you something to eat. You’ve never felt so appreciated then ever

Highschool partner!aether - you and him both fail tests/exams because you both are dumb as hell. Even if you two study together, you and him would end up with low or average grades. One time aether would able to get a high grade which made the teacher suspicious of him and later on found out that he was cheating on the test. You on the other hand study the hardest than anyone else but still get bad grades (hehe relateable). Will both you and aether ever graduate highschool?

Highschool/college partner!kazuha - Kazuha is smart in general and he’s very helpful. He would help many students on their studies and they always pass with flying colours. Yet he rarely wants to help anyone else because he wants to spend time helping his baby. You two would either be at the school library or at a cafe that is connected to a library to study for finals. If you get caught off guard by one second he would kiss your cheek so that you can get back to focus. Though he doesn’t know that him kissing your cheek just makes you more riled up, meaning that you arent able to concentrate at all.

College partner!venti - Similar to aether, he’s dumb as a duck. He would always asm you for the answers on the test because he “doesnt” have time to study. You always say no because majority of the time he is spending is going out to play games or drink with his friends yet he continues to ask you for help. He then says he’ll get you anything if you agree to help him and your eyes sparkled. Say goodbye to his wallet.

College partner!scara - you and scara are studying together at a nearby library cafe. You both have headphones on listening to calm music as you both study for finals. As he was studying, he noticed that you kept looking towards him. He then looked at your paper and noticed that you’ve been copying his answers the whole time. He grabs your headphones and says “Hey! why are you copying my answers.” you snark, “what? im just copying your answers because im too lazy to do this. its soooo boooorrrring” you say then he switched seats and sat next to you. You were a little confused but didn’t mind becauss it felt warmer after he got closer. You turn to look at him and he suddenly kisses you deeply, you pushed away and locked eye contact. “Do your work or i’ll punish you” he says. “and what if i want punishment hm?” you said as you smirked. His face grew more red and faced away from you fuck why is this bitch tempting me he thinks. You poke him on the cheek and he turns around “oh yea? if you want punishment so badly, might aswell do it here” he says as ge went below the table. Your eyes widened and kicked him “Not here dummy! lets just get in the car” you said. You’re in for a long night tonight.

[streakfreeshine]

Botched Dissuasion

MAJOR CWs:  Firearms, firearm injuries, unrelated character death, blood, and emeto (Really REALLY craving whump paired with a bit of emeto lol) 

Minor TWs: Panic attacks, potential medical inaccuracies, hospitals, minor medical procedures, (probably) unrealistic descriptions of events lol (might write a more realistic robbery now that I know how it would actually go down, now that I’m actually a bank teller now. Interestingly, I started this fic before I even fathomed having a job related to any sort of numbers)

James gets shot in the side of his chest during an attempted bank robbery he tried to foolishly de-escalate, the same bullet also grazes Thomas’ shoulder.

2705 words

This is a very dark and heavy piece. Read only if you can handle the trigger warnings!

Thomas was standing slightly behind James as he made a cash deposit when the door to the bank slammed open. Everyone jumped and turned towards the source of the noise. There was a soft chorus of gasps as three men with black surgical masks and beanies piled into the building, all brandishing pistols. James rolled his eyes and turned around. He’d dealt with similar situations while on active duty. ‘I can take care of this. They just need some dissuasion,’ he thought.

“Really guys? You know that won’t end well. They have buttons to alert police. It’s in your best intr-,” Thomas interrupted him with a short smack to the back of his thigh. James opened his mouth to continue but no one could hear him over the single shot that echoed through the space. The man in the center had discharged the weapon into the ceiling as a warning. 

“Shut yer mouth,” the man growled. He looked at the clerk behind James. “Money. Now,” he demanded and approached the counter to the right of James and Thomas. They both turned to face the guy. Thomas raised his hands and shuffled farther behind James. 

“Dude, they don’t have more than three-hundred dollars in their drawers, is nine-hundred dollars worth your life?” James scoffed, knowing he was taking a gamble with his snark.

“James, please,” Thomas begged, fear shining behind a glare.

“You threatenin’ me?” The man shouted through clenched teeth and raised the weapon towards him. “You don’t look like yer strappin’. ‘Sides, I saw you fork over a couple a hundos. Pretty little lady here still has ‘em on her desk,” he spat. 

James foolishly took another gamble and spoke one more time, his hand reaching behind his back, attempting to fein pulling out a weapon from between his belt and back.

“It’s a concealed carry sta-” 

One shot interrupted him and thirteen more rang out as he ducked down and yanked Thomas with him. Everything felt like slow motion.

Just a few seconds later, when he spun around and opened his eyes, he was devastated to find his husband on his knees, gripping his right deltoid, his face screwed up in a grimace.

“Thomas, oh my god, are you hit?” He asked, his eyes wide and full of pure fear, and cluelessly reached out to him. Thomas looked up at him and opened his mouth to reply. His eyes nearly fell out of his skull when he saw his concerned husband.

James’ green shirt had taken on an unusual shade of brown near his right armpit. ‘His shirt wasn’t brown this morning–oh my god.’ he thought, and in less than a second, Thomas had processed the situation enough to begin first aid. No amount of medical training could have ever prepared him for needing to administer emergency medicine on his potentially dying husband.

“J-James– Y-you’re– Lay do-down,” He sputtered, feeling lightheaded.

“Why?” He asked before he felt searing pain in his chest. “Oh god…” he choked out before he fell back onto his behind. Thomas carefully helped him lay back before pulling his shirt up and locating the wound. He immediately applied pressure with his uninjured arm. He flinched as James screamed out in pain. 

“I’m-I’m so sorry, babe. I-I need to st-stifle the bleeding. I know it hurts,” Thomas commiserated before desperately crying out for help.

“T-They’re on their way,” He heard someone stutter in the distance.

Through the ringing in his ears, he vaguely heard the other conversations as he continued to apply pressure.

“T-the clerk is dead!… three people are h-h-hurt… He’s helping another guy… The other men ran… Please hurry!” He refused to look anywhere other than James' eyes. James looked back up at him, eyes unfocused. 

“James, stay with me baby, you’re going to be okay. H-help is on the way,” he said softly, mostly to comfort himself. Without thinking, Thomas used his right hand to brush James’ hair from his face. He winced when the movement sent pain up into his arm. He saw James take a breath to say something, but Thomas stopped him, knowing what he was going to ask.

“Please don’t speak, love. It only grazed my arm, I think.” James nodded slightly, relieved. Ignoring the fact that his arm was now freely bleeding, Thomas carefully leaned in and placed a soft kiss on James’ forehead. 

“I love you, James. We’ll be okay. When this is all over, we’ll g-go to that park you love. Y-you know, the one that ov-overlooks that cliff to the ocean. It’ll be so l-lovely. We’ll hold hands and–and watch the sun set into the ocean. Ju-just stay with me, okay? You’ll be okay, I promise,” he mindlessly babbled. He didn’t know if he was trying to keep James awake, or keep his mind off his own pain. Perhaps both.

Their tender moment ended when paramedics arrived just moments later. Thomas tore his eyes away from James to look up at the woman who ran to them. She knelt down and spoke calmly to James, telling him what they were going to do. She looked at Thomas as he removed his hand from James’ chest, and said something into her walkie-talkie. What she said, he didn’t hear, as he had made the mistake of looking around. Nausea gripped him from the scene before him.

The holes in the walls, the injured woman, the blood. There was so much blood. He further scanned the room and laid eyes on the lifeless body of the man who shot them. The full gravity of the situation hit him hard as the image seared itself into his mind. James’ voice knocked him from his stupor and he whipped his head around to look at him.

“His arm… P-please help him. He’s too st-stubborn for his own good…” James uttered as another paramedic approached Thomas.

“I’m f-fine. It just grazed it!” he stuttered deliriously and scooted backwards, not wanting to speak to anyone further.

“Sir, you’re bleeding heavily. I need to see if you need stitches,” the paramedic told him as he crouched next to him. Thomas indignantly lifted his arm for the paramedic but made no attempt to move closer, never looking away from James.

“Sir, please, I need you to look at me and answer some questions.” he said softly and took his arm in his hands. Thomas vehemently shook his head and again tried to pull away from the paramedic, who firmly held onto his arm. He yelped in pain, which earned him a clouded yet disapproving look from James.

“Thomas, l-look at the man. He’s going to help you, okay Love?” James said through gritted teeth. 

“B-but you–I don’t– I’ll be–“

“Thomas…” James cut him off, clearly exasperated. Thomas’s lip quivered as he pouted at him, but begrudgingly cooperated with the paramedic. Liam – as he found out– began applying a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding, in order to get a cleaner look. James teared up and looked away as he heard Thomas’s scream. 

“I-it hurts! That hurts! P-please s-stop!” He heard him pleading with him. “T-take it off! It hurts!” he cried out. James had never heard him in so much distress, even after he’d completely severed his ACL five years ago. He bit his lip as tears dripped from his eyes onto his ears. The sobbing reminded him of a different time overseas when he comforted an injured young boy who had watched his parents die during an air raid. He mused that the similarities were striking.

James’ pain intensified as two paramedics slid him onto a gurney. His eyes shot open as the gurney was lifted and the legs extended.

“Ow, fuck!” He exclaimed as the pain became too overwhelming when the bed was jostled, rendering him unconscious.

Thomas watched the gurney be rolled away.

“He-hey, you gotta-a take me with h-him! He’s my husband! Please!” He shrieked and scrambled to his feet, leaving an exasperated Liam following very closely behind him, lest he pass out or fall over. Thomas reached out to the other paramedic pushing James and pleaded with her.

“Of course, sweetheart,” she said to him, sympathetic to his situation. She helped him climb into the ambulance and waited for Liam to get in. While the door was still open, Thomas had a view of the inside, but from a different angle. He saw the other injured woman again, being tended to, but his eyes settled on the clerk who had been murdered.

“S-so much blood…” he whispered, a hand moving to his mouth. The other paramedic, who introduced herself as Aurora, quickly pulled the door shut the second Liam was inside. She tended to the unconscious James while Liam spoke to Thomas as the ambulance speeded off to the hospital. 

Liam inspected Thomas’ arm. The way the bullet had traveled through the fatty tissue of his arm left what resembled a deep and thick laceration. 

“Oh yeah, you’ll need stitches, unfortunately,” Liam said after about a minute of examination. “The bullet that struck James very well could have traveled through his chest and across your arm.”

Without thinking, Thomas glanced over at the wound in his arm and his breath hitched in his throat.

“I-I’m going to th-throw up…” Thomas managed, but didn’t leave a single second for the two paramedics to react before vomiting into his hand once. Shame flooded his senses and he forcibly swallowed back the liquid pushing up from his stomach. He glanced apprehensively over at his severely emetophobic husband as Liam held an emesis bag under his chin. Thomas shook his head and Liam pulled the bag away cautiously. 

“Thomas, if you need to be sick, please don’t hold it in,” he chastised. Thomas shook his head again. 

“I need to be strong,” he said stiffly. “He’s afraid of vomiting, even if it’s someone else. I have to–,” his words were interrupted by another heave and a wave of fluid that splashed into the plastic bag under his chin.

“I understand, but you could hurt yourself further. When I get your IV in, I’ll give you something to stop the nausea. Please don’t fight it.”

Thomas hiccuped and gave a small nod before vomiting again. He refused to acknowledge the pinching pain from the needle, instead focusing on James and Aurora. James was still unconscious and pale.

“He’ll be okay, right?” Thomas asked, tearing up again. Aurora nodded.

“Most likely. The bullet appears to have traveled cleanly in and out. As Liam mentioned, it likely exited his shoulder before hitting your arm. He’ll undergo a few different scans to determine if he needs surgery. I can’t give you any more information than that, though. He’ll be in great hands at this hospital. With a wonderful partner such as yourself, he’ll be as right as rain in no time!”

Thomas responded with a minscule nod, followed by another retch and a whimper. 

“Th-thank you both.”

When they arrived, there was a flurry of action as James and Thomas were separated and examined in different ways. Thomas was given stitches and administered fluids while James was sent through an x-ray and a CT scan. He was still unconscious, several hours later, when Thomas was discharged and allowed into James’ room where he found him hooked to a pulse-oximeter and receiving a blood transfusion. He turned to the nurse who had cleared his throat upon entering. 

“Mr. Mercado-Briggs, I presume?” he asked, as he sat at the computer.

“Yes sir, Thomas, if you will, please,” Thomas said with a nod.

“As you well know, James suffered a bullet wound to the right side of his chest. His scapula was chipped by the bullet as it exited. His lungs are undamaged. His ulnar nerve was damaged, but no major blood vessels were affected. However, he will need extensive physical therapy for his shoulder upon release. We are unsure if he will have complete function in his pinky and ring finger. Only time will tell.”

“How long will he be asleep?”

“M’awa’e”, James slurred. “B’rly,” he added. Thomas’s head whipped over to see James struggling to open his eyes. Thomas smiled softly at him, tearing up. 

“You scared me,” he said, openly weeping now. “There was so much bloo-od. It’s so, so different when it’s th-the love of your life. I was afraid you were going to bleed out… I’m so glad you-you’re alive.”

James sniffled and took a deep breath to speak. “I’m sorry, my love… Doctor, may I have a moment with my husband, please?”

“Of course. Call button is near your hand, if you need it. I’ll check back in a few,” he said and closed the door behind him. 

“Thomas.. I’m sorry… I-I didn’t think he’d actually shoot at us,” he spoke slowly, choking back tears. “I thought my bluff would cut it. It’s worked in the past…”

“In the past?! James, you’ve done that in the past?! You’re one crazy SOB. I love you so much.” Thomas placed a soft kiss on his lips and caressed the side of his face. “You ever try a stunt like that again, you’ll be sleeping on the couch for a year,” he whispered, clearly joking.

James laughed out a puff of air and groaned. “Laughing hurts,” he whined. Thomas rolled his eyes and pressed his forehead to James’. They looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds before James moved his head. “Too much fluff, it’s hurting my shoulder”.

“Sorry!” Thomas sat down quickly. When there was a knock at the door, James croaked a “come in”. The doctor popped his head in before entering fully.

“Good news! When your IV finishes, we can get you all wrapped up and ready to go. We’ll go over prescriptions and follow ups now, while we wait”.

It was around eight in the evening when James was discharged. Thomas helped James into the car and buckled his seatbelt. He walked around the car, sat in the driver’s seat, adjusted the seat, and turned the car on.

“Please tell me you aren’t about to drive,” James turned to him and gave him a look of incredulity. “You can’t drive like that”.

“Like what?”

“While on pain medications!” 

“I’m not though, I didn’t want to take any while I was here”. Thomas shrugged his left shoulder.

“Why not?! Aren’t you in a lot of pain? Wait, how’d the car even get here?!” James exclaimed.

“Because I wouldn’t be able to drive us. I had Ryan and Dantae come drop it off. They knew I was safe to drive. I gave them the low-down on what happened before Dantae could freak out, though. They’ll be visiting tomorrow,” he explained, casually ignoring his second question. “No buts,” he quickly added, before James could even say it. 

They drove silently for a few minutes before James fell into a light sleep. He awoke to Thomas’ hand rubbing softly against his own hand.

“Love, wake up,” he said softly, careful not to speak too loud.

“W’re ‘ome already?” James slurred, raising his head to look around. Except, they weren’t at home. He nearly teared up at what he saw. 

“I told you we’d go to the park. It’s your favorite. C’mon, I’ll help you out of the car,” Thomas said as he opened his door and hopped out. He helped his husband out of his seat and held his hand as they walked to the fence at the cliff. 

“I have always loved this park. Can you see why?” James smiled and looked over at Thomas, who had tears running down his face. “Oh gosh, babe, are you okay? Your arm hurts doesn’t it? We could have waited–” James prattled.

“That’s not it, It’s just… It’s so beautiful. I’m so glad we can see it again, you and I. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Thomas, more than you will ever know”.

They both turned back to the sunset before them, watching until darkness took over.

[overflowing-with-words]

half hearted boy, maybe we'll have more connection || lloyd g.// harumi j.

a/n: something something angst i whipped up at three in the morning two months ago and just remembered to fix today!! <3 tw: death, blood, angst.

· · ·

Lloyd doesn’t cry when he sees Harumi die, swallowed by a swirling tsunami of bricks and dust. There’s too much adrenaline rushing through his blood, too many teammates that need him and too many stakes at hand to consider what he just lost.

The tears come later, in heavy shaking sobs, when he’s alone and alive and okay— as okay as he can be in the empty cold hospital room. It hits him like a brick to the chest, when he’s turning at the end of the battle to look for her face through the crowd, maybe exchange a few last sentences before she was gone again.

But she’s gone for real, now, and he doesn’t want to believe it.

So he doesn't.

He hauls himself out of bed, ignoring shaking limbs and burning cuts, fresh stitches that are tearing open as he walks through the abandoned broken city streets, hood pulled over his stiff form to hide any unwanted attention.

Lloyd’s still wearing his green gi underneath, blood stained and torn to scraps in a few places. (He had the chance to take it off, to change into clothes that aren’t carrying a decade’s worth of bad memories, but he doesn’t because it reminds him of being powerless again, and he can’t be.)

He searches the streets, unfamiliar after so long of ducking away from them in fear of discovery, eyes sweeping over piles of rubble and dirt until he finds what he’s looking for.

Then he digs. He digs until his hands are a bloody tearing mess of blisters and scrapes and cuts, until his knees are burning and his gi is soaked with sweat, because she. Can’t. Be. Dead.

Not when he hasn’t said sorry for not saving her fast enough, for killing letting her family die so many years ago (for every ounce of pain he ever caused her unknowingly because she didn’t deserve it and neither did he, even if he was ten and it was an accident and)

He digs and screams her name until his throat is hoarse and he’s pretty sure the sun is rising and someone will have noticed he’s gone (till soft golden rays are falling over the dust just right so it looks like her brown eyes in the sunset) and he can’t look anymore because everything hurts.

Harumi doesn’t cry when her parents die, swept away in a flood of dust and crumbling walls (and something red and sticky that pours down her forehead that she can’t think too hard about), because there are too many people screaming, too much smoke curling in her lungs like a murky hand closing around her throat, too many questions buzzing in her mind to face the biggest one she has.

She cries later, when the nurses are gone and she’s sitting in a terribly empty waiting room alone, waiting waiting waiting (still waiting) for parents who will never come. Quiet, ugly, sobs slip through her lips and she drinks in the tears (and pretends that her mother will come wipe her tears if she cries for long enough. She doesn’t.)

When she’s finally been in the waiting room for long enough, Harumi stands up and walks out the door, quietly enough that the receptionist doesn’t look up and offer her yet another cup of water, like that’s going to solve any of her problems. (They called her the Quiet One, so she will be.)

She walks through the rubbled streets, past the noodle shop her mother loved (it’s doors has caved into a unbreakable wall and she knows there’s a metaphor there but she’s too tired to find it,) till she reaches home.

Or home as she remembered it, because now there’s nothing there but a pile of terrible bloodstained dirty cement.

She breaks her nails against sharp edges and finds her old toys, buried in a mound of dust and glass that she thinks used to be their coffee table, and hugs them to her chest, a last shard of the fragile, broken thing she used to have.

(People whisper things about how she was too young for this, too small and too innocent for something so terrible to happen to her, but Harumi doesn’t think tragedy has a age limit.)

[medtech-mara]

11 & 13 for mara

TW: Addiction

click >here< to view the list, pls ask more (▰˘◡˘▰)

okokokok...... so let me just... hehehuhuhe. okay. so. let me start with the heavy hitter.

11. Does Mara have any addictions?

Yes, so let me start with saying.... she hates water, unless it's real water, but until recently, that wasn't a luxury she could afford. Coffee all day, she gets off work switches to beer til bed. So yes, she is a bit of an alcoholic? however, she's able to keep it professional, the only times she ever seemed a little unprofessional is the few times she's gotten a bit to wild at the clubs.

She may or may not have an addiction to SynthCoke? She will deny it, say it's what helps her get up in the morning and ready for her run considering the last few months she's been ran ragged living a double life. The tax of working full time at the clinic Blue Remedies Health Clinic with an influx of patients coming into the area, a rippling affect from the Megabuilding 10's clinic and pharmacy closing, and on the weekends, or shit sometimes during the week, she'd have to go do gigs with NIGHT RAID or mooking around her neighborhood with J I H Z Z Y clearing out Valentinos from her turf ending their harassment in the area. All while trying to duck her best friend and co-owner of the clinic, so he doesnt find out who Panthera really is. (he knew lol). Gotta have something to take the edge off.

And... Well.. Lets be real here, since its you and me anon. The worst addiction Mara has, was one I did not expect. It's one that is ruining her life, it's one that plagues her mind, the one driving her to a fate worse than death. Mara's real addiction is for cyberware. Pushing herself beyond her limits and the pursuit of power is really the true killer here. See.. Mara has promised herself to Maxtac, who want to recruit her for the C-Swat, under certain conditions. However.. If she goes cyberpsycho before her brother is taken out of cryostasis, she will be captured, and chipped against her will. She will have lost all her freedom, I will have lost her until rescued if that was possible? OH MY GODDDDDD, I AM IN LOVE WITH THAT IDEA!!!

It's pretty heart breaking to think that I've already came close to losing Mara, witnessing Jack's death dropped her humanity down to 1 humanity point, I had lost the MAX i could lose from a traumatic event..... If Mara hadn't gone to therapy after installing that borgware. *phew* tysm jihzzybby. he pushed her to go.

13. Does Mara like Poetry?

Yes, she does. I wouldn't say she goes out of her way to read it, but from time to time on her smoke break she might look for something that fits her mood, which lets be real, was pretty moody most the time. Feeling of isolation, though she was surrounded by more people in her life than ever.

TYSM FOR ASKING!!! AAAHHHHHHH!

[spaciin]

* PINNED POST .

Hey, I'm Spade and I run this multifandom ask blog, I've been inspired by a few blogs and thought it would be cool to try it out myself. I don't know english that much so it's sorta weird sometimes but I'll try my best. I'm on summer break so this blog may be more active.

001 . RULES

You can request almost anything, as long as the topics aren't heavily gore, heavily sexual, or offensive subjects, I'm fine with angst and sometimes touchy subjects. I will also remove requests that make me uncomfortable or it's hard to write for me like please NO mpreg, mechpreg, child death/abuse, animal death/abuse, etc.

I will write them as scenarios or HCs, I won't do match ups tho.

Please select maximum of 5 characters in any fandom.

The only Transformers continuities I do are Prime and Animated but there can be exceptions if I know the character! (Even minor characters in IDW like Skilz, Flamewar, etc.)

Interactions between all the characters are fine too lol

Please check if the inbox is open before requesting, I will close my inbox if I get too many asks.

I will read every ask I receive and try to answer all of them even feedback is welcome.

I'm a bit wary of personal questions but you can ask.

002 . FANDOMS & CHARACTERS

TRANSFORMERS

PRIME & ANIMATED

Optimus Prime (Prime & Animated)

Ratchet (Prime & Animated)

Arcee (Prime)

Bulkhead (Prime & Animated)

Bumblebee (Prime & Animated)

Wheeljack (Prime)

Smokescreen (Prime)

Ultra Magnus (Prime)

Prowl (Animated)

Megatron (Prime)

Soundwave (Prime)

Starscream (Prime & Animated)

Shockwave (Prime & Animated)

Steve (Prime)

Knockout (Prime)

Breakdown (Prime)

Jazz (Animated)

Sentinel Prime (Animated)

Blurr (Animated)

Jack Darby (Prime)

Miko Nakadai (Prime)

Raf Esquivel (Prime)

Sari Sumdac (Animated)

MURDER DRONES

Uzi Doorman

Serial Designation J

Serial Designation N

Serial Designation V

WELCOME HOME

Wally Darling

Frank Frankly

Julie Joyful

Barnaby B. Beagle

Sally Starlet

Home

Howdy Pillar

Eddie Dear

DON'T HUG ME I'M SCARED

Red Guy

Yellow Guy

Duck

Blue Guy

Tony The Talking Clock

Lesley

Roy

003 . MASTERLIST

Masterlist 001 [coming soon]

004 . TAGS

The tags are simple, no fancy fonts, emojis, and stuff. The fandom name, characters tag are the names above, the genre/trope (angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, fluff, etc.), trigger warnings '#[trigger] tw', reblogs are under '#spades shares', ooc stuff are under '#spades rambles', important posts are under '#important' or '#announcement', and additional tags like [fandom/character] x reader, platonic/romantic, original characters, and all are in small letters. [example: transformers prime, steve, angst, unrequited love, hanahaki disease, death tw]

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 7)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

Part 7 -

The rain was beating down on the building in fat, heavy droplets making it harder to pick out other sounds. I peered into the room and could see J sprawled out on the couch, dead to the world. Suddenly my eye was drawn to a movement at the window, as it began to slide up. I shrank back, still watching but trying to stay hidden as the figure of a police officer slipped into the room. Followed by three others. As they fanned out into the room with guns drawn, my heart swelled with a little bit of hope that my freedom was near. They would ship my jailer off to Arkham and this would all be over. I felt my shoulders drop as I began to soak up the relief.

They had him surrounded where he lay, oblivious and looking strangely peaceful. Suddenly one of them fired a shot in the air. Startled I ducked back out of view and I thought I could hear a struggle between him and one of the men. By the time I returned to the position where I could see, J was being lifted up by two of them and thrown down onto the glass coffee table. His upper body went straight through it and he lay there winded in a halo of glass as they all gathered around to kick him. So much for due process, I thought. They began to taunt him as he writhed in pain, and laughing at them with bloody teeth.

"One of your men told us where we'd find you. We didn't call this in, figured we'd make sure you're not going back to the nuthouse again," said the tallest one.

"Last time you broke out, you killed four cops. We brought a body bag for you this time, you sick fuck," spat the middle aged one who looked the most worn down by a career in the GCPD.

I stashed the knife in my pocket and stepped out with my hands raised.

"Excuse me,"

They all turned to look at me, startled.

"Who the fuck are you?" Asked one, immediately pointing his weapon at me.

"His hostage," I muttered, less than thrilled by being held at gunpoint.

They all stared at me blankly.

"The girl he took in the purple dress," I urged.

"Oh my god, she's alive," murmured the one with ginger hair, he seemed a little younger and softer than the rest.

The tall one still had his gun trained on me as I slowly approached.

"God, what do you think he's been doing to her for all this time," said the short one, as though I wasn't stood right there.

"Ah fuck this complicates things," muttered the old one, who seemed to be the leader of the pack.

The tall one had a mean look about him as he scrutinised me, gun still drawn.

"Jesus, look at her fucking face. Maybe that's why he didn't kill her..." he grimaced.

"Hey," the ginger one said, chastising him and approaching me, "did he do that to you?" He asked, unable to really look me in the eye.

I remembered I probably had the remains of the black paint smeared on my face.

"He painted them but the scars... are old," I said, my voice cracking as the familiar feelings of hurt at this kind of response flooded over me, threatening to wash me away.

Ginger finally gave me a few fleeting moments of eye contact before he caught sight of something that drew his attention. He gently reached out a hand and swept my hair aside to get a better look at my neck.

"Jesus -"

I wasn't sure what he meant until I realised I probably had a visible bruise from the earlier fight.

"Looks like he's been having a little fun," muttered the tall one flatly, finally letting the gun drop. He clearly did not give a shit about me.

The older guy kicked J in the throat, grinning with satisfaction as he crumpled up and choked.

"Something doesn't add up. Why hasn't he killed you?" Said the lean one, frowning.

"Maybe you are working with him," said the short one, who had stayed mostly quiet throughout.

They all looked me over, suspicion rising, even the ginger one.

"You know, when he was incarcerated, some people still wrote him? He got fan mail. He had post coming in with marriage proposals, and photographs from crazy bitches desperate to meet him," said the old one, approaching me.

He stopped in front of me, wiping his thumb against my cheek and inspecting the black paint.

"How do we know you're not one of those whores?"

"With a face like that, I'll bet you don't get a lot of interest..." said the tall one, the obviously barbed subtext being that I was desperate and deranged, and would have happily clambered aboard the clown currently still writhing in pain on the floor.

"W-what?" I stuttered out in disbelief.

They had been so quick to turn on me.

"Maybe you think he's like you. Damaged? Did you think you could fix him?" He pressed further.

"No, I don't think he's like me... and you would be surprised about the attention, men still find a way to be vile, if anything the scars have made it worse," I hissed, unable to hide the anger in my voice.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," warned the younger one, looking uncomfortable.

"Okay fine, take the girl outside, she won't want to see this any way," muttered the older one, waving us off dismissively as the ginger one began to herd me to the window.

Suddenly, I felt a pang of worry about what they were going to do. As I stood on the metal fire escape with him I could hear them continuing to beat him to a pulp. They were really going to kill him, but they seemed intent on torturing him first. I could hear everything, from his cries of pain and strained laughter, to their taunting words.

"Did he hurt you, I mean other than that?" asked the young one as he stood beside me on the fire escape.

"No, well, not like that..." I mumbled, head swimming in confusion.

He frowned, looking at me with so much pity it strangely angered me.

"I think. I need water and I want to get this crap off my face," I murmured stepping back inside before the cop could stop me.

He grabbed for my hoodie.

"Hey, wait..." he hesitated.

"I just want to get this off of me," I said, really pushing the narrative he'd clearly started to put together.

"Uh, sure."

He let me go and I crossed over to the kitchen area. My head was reeling. I didn't know what the fuck to do, as i started to wash my face off and drink from the tap so as not to arouse suspicion. The others were so busy railing on their target that they hadn't noticed my reappearance.

"You and your little girlfriend are quite the pair. With faces like that no wonder you found each other. You're like frankenstein and his bride," laughed the tall one as he stomped on J's fingers.

"Still, if you put a bag on her head, she's got quite the hot body... guess that's why you're keeping her hostage" said his short companion.

The words hit me like a brick. Who the fuck did they think they were? Was there any justice in these crooked cops beating a criminal to death? It was self-serving, not some kind of karmic justice. They were propping up the rotten system - just because they weren't dragging women into a back alley somewhere, they considered themselves in the clear. But what about the women they pressured into drinking with them at the bar? The ex-wife they threatened, the domestic abuse accusations they helped to shake for their colleague, because 'he's a nice guy really, she's trying to ruin his career He's a good cop.'? What about the teenage girl they didn't believe when she came to them seeking help, what about the dead prostitutes they cracked sick jokes about over cups of coffee in the break room?

They weren't good men. Even the one on the fire escape was complicit, he'd come here to do the same thing - to give himself over to violence and killing. If anything he was in some ways worse than the others, wearing the mask of someone who cared. He probably genuinely thought of himself as a good man. I wondered how many times he had weakly turned a blind eye to the actions of the men around him. I felt sick as I watched on, unseen, in despair as they continued to kick the crumpled form of my previous captor.

Suddenly, an idea began to form in my mind, like the spark of a match. I took the full overproof vodka bottle and stuffed a nearby rag down the neck. Slipping my hand into the familiar heavy purple coat, remembering which pocket he had put the lighter into, I advanced on them. They didn't see me approach; I wasn't important enough for that.

"That's enough!" I shouted, with surprising command.

They turned to see what was going on.

"What the hell? Watkins, why'd you let her back in here?" Said the lean one looking to his friend on the fire escape.

"Get this stupid bitch out of here," added the eldest, as Watkins began scrambling back through the window.

They weren't listening to me at all. J wasn't even laughing anymore, and one of his eyes was already puffed up as he looked up at me from the floor. As the lean one turned again to stomp on him some more, I snapped.

"Are you guys hard of hearing? I said, leave him the fuck alone. That's enough!"

I was shaking with anger. They barely even looked at me. I had given them enough warning. The quiet one moved to draw his pistol, looking like he was about to point it my way. I didn't give him the chance.

I flicked open the lighter and struck the wheel. The rag caught with a flicker and I launched the bottle squarely at the tall one, who was by now a little off to the left.

It sailed through the air and smashed against the wall, scattering glass and vodka all over him and the ringleader beside him. Instantly the flame ignited the fuel and a flash of orange bloomed like a flower. It was so bright that I had to shield my eyes for a second.

In the panic that quickly erupted I grabbed the gun from the holster of the cop I hadn't hit. Watkins had made it in through the window and was rushing over. As the two cops on fire were screaming and their colleagues were trying to put them out, I grabbed J by the wrist and dragged him far enough out of the way that he wasn't at risk of catching on fire with them.

"You stupid bitch! My face, she burnt my fucking face!" The tall one was screaming his head off as Watkins had put him out with his jacket.

I smiled as I managed to get J somewhat to his feet with an arm over my shoulders. As I encouraged him out to the balcony, I turned to look back at them. They had just snuffed out the older man too and were ducking away from the rapidly growing wall of fire beside them.

"What the fuck! I told you she was a goddamn rat!" screamed the short one, reaching for the gun I'd taken from his holster already and coming up empty.

"You burnt my fucking face!" Shouted the tall one again, clearly still in shock as he looked my way.

"You better hope it doesn't leave a nasty scar then, although, for the record your personality will still be the main reason nobody wants to sleep with you," I spat in his direction as I posted the heavy purple coat through the sash window. The others were reaching for their guns by now so I fired a shot between them and into the kitchen cabinets. They flinched as glass came down in a waterfall behind them.

"Keep your hands above your head!" I yelled.

Reluctantly they complied, and I shot another round into the old boiler unit, which immediately began spraying water and steam all over the place. There they stood in the middle, water on the left side and fire on the right. It had a kind of poetry to it which I appreciated for a second before quickly slipping out of the window.

"You - you made a molotov cocktail," J managed in amusement, spitting blood as coughed out the words.

I clumsily stuffed my arms into his coat and shurgged it over my shoulders, made it to the ladder and frantically began to clamber down.

"They're going to start trying to shoot us, can we talk about this later?" I shouted after him in exasperation.

"If you'd shot them first, we wouldn't have to worry about that," he grumbled, making a start on the ladder.

He was in a bad way, and clearly very much struggling to make his way down but I didn't slow my own pace. As soon as my feet hit the bottom rung, I dropped into the puddles below, slightly jarring my ankle as I did. I stumbled, cursing under my breath before straightening up and scrambling across the alley. Ducking behind a dumpster, I aimed at the balcony above us. The rain was still pouring down into the dark all around us and J still had about a third of the ladder to go when I spotted movement up above. I fired a shot up at the window, shattering it. I hoped this would cause them enough hesitation, while they tried to work out which direction it had come from, that he could get his feet back on solid ground.

I fired another couple of shots upward for good measure as he slipped into the street, collapsing onto his hands and knees for a moment. Cursing my own stupidity for not just calling it a day and running off, I instead darted over to help him to his feet.

"Do you have anything useful in this coat?" I urged.

He reached a hand inside one of the inside pockets and withdrew some kind of cannister. I snatched it from his grasp.

"Tell me what to do."

"Pull the pin, throw it away from us, and run, unless you want to choke."

I did as he said, absolutely terrfied the entire time. The cannister rolled to a stop at the foot of the ladder. I grasped his hand in my own and sprinted ahead of him, dragging him forwards as he stumbled on unsteady legs. I was struck very suddenly by the strange reversal of things, my mind replaying flashes of him dragging me by the hands out into the street on the fateful day our paths had crossed in the dress shop. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the alleyway was filling with grey smoke. As we burst out onto the street, I looked around frantically. We were still in a dead neighbourhood.

"Left." He managed to say.

I tried to prop him upright as we struggled to put as much distance inbetween us and the disgruntled cops as possible. After travelling down a couple of different streets in an erratic pattern, we hit the first signs of life. Flickering neon signs for a thai massage parlour, a pizza joint, and an ancient looking laundromat in between other boarded up and burned out stores.

"In here," I said, shoving him sideways through the laundromat door.

He didn't even seem to have it in him to protest and simply followed my rough guidance. The front desk was empty with a piece of card which read.

'Back in half hour. Need anything ask Raj in corner store'

We slipped behind the first row of machines, out of the line of sight through the glass front of the store. The rumble of the dryers and hum of the overhead fluorescent lights created a kind of static white noise around us which felt oddly comforting to me. Everything was awash with a kind of yellow hue, due to the tiles and the lights above, and the aged yellow plastic of the machines.

"Sit," I said, motioning to the wooden bench in front of us.

His eyes met mine.

"Like... a dog..." was all he managed to respond.

I sighed.

"Yes, like a dog that's been hit by a car. Just sit down already."

He relented, collapsing down onto it.

Link below for the other chapters:

[tyleroakland]

[cis male and he/him] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [TYLER OAKLAND]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [CHRIS HEMSWORTH]. You must be the [THIRTY EIGHT] year old [FIREFIGHTER AT FIREHOUSE]. Word is you’re [HONORABLE] but can also be a bit [ABRASIVE] and your favorite song is [IN COLD BLOOD BY ALT-J]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [FISHER’S COVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it! 

basics

Full Name: Tyler Oakland Nickname(s): Ty, Oakland Date of Birth: May 17th, 1985 Age: Thirty-eight Height: 6′7″ Markings: various tattoos all around his body Gender & Pronouns: Cis-man & he/him Orientation: Heterosexual Occupation: Firefighter (previously a member of SEAL Team 6) Relationship status: Single Pets: a German Shepherd mix named Luna, two chickens and two ducks

tw: death, injury, war, explosions, hostage situation

bio

Born and raised in Houston, Texas, Tyler had his life pre-set for him. Active and curious from way back when he was a child, he knew by the time he was nine that he would be in the Navy. After all, his father was, as was his grandfather and great-grandfather; it was legacy, and Tyler had absolutely no say in it. Not that he really complained - he was a good little soldier already, following orders as expected out of him.

By the time he was eighteen, he was already enlisted in the Navy, and by the time Tyler had graduated high school, he already had his bags packed. In a way, he was excited himself, curious to see what the world was like once he was out of the under his father's control. Granted, he was going head-first into a much more controlled enviroment, but Tyler was thrilled nevertheless. Even when it meant early mornings and gruelling days, he was still excited.

And his excitement showed. Smart and capable, over the years, Tyler rose amon the ranks, getting recruited to be among the best.. The tasks, the missions he was assigned to became more and more difficult, but he didn't look away from the challenge, always being more than willing to do whatever was needed of him, and then some more. Before he knew it, the missions he was given became more and more secretive, and the questions he received from regular people would simply remain unanswered. As his life began evolving around his career, Tyler gave himself all in, dropping everything else. Having a family became something he could only but dream about, having friends meant knowing those in his squad. Some of those he knew rose through the ranks with him, and some came and went as quickly as the missions ended.

Tyler's life became one big redacted document. He closed off, the cheeky, happy guy becoming a serious and collected soldier. It was kill or be killed, survive the night or not that Tyler went through on a daily basis, but he didn't mind it. That was what he was good at, that was what was expected of him, and he was a dutiful soldier.

Nearly two years ago, Tyler was part of the group responsible for one of the regular missions they were tasked with. Only, it was nothing ordinary; he would have lied if he said that all the missions were successful (life didn't work that way), but this one fell apart as soon as they landed in their destination. It was almost as if the enemy knew that they'd be coming, and they were prepared; within minutes, Tyler had lost the majority of his teammates, his best friend included. Death was inevitable and part of the business, Tyler had learned to accept it, but this was overwhelming. The enemy was so damn overwhelming. No matter what he or the remaining teammates did, they were being caught in every step, almost like the enemy knew everything. The best team in the NAVY, and the enemy was wiping the floor with them. Still, Tyler did not give up; he was among the very few still standing, even if injured, but he kept going on. Then, the explosion overwhelmed everything, and the world went blank.

Waking up in the enemy prison was the easiest part of what was about to follow. The following months were spent in utter horror, and to this day, Tyler is not willing to tell the stories or what happened there. The only time he's done it was after he was requested to provide the full statement after the hostage exchange, and even so, Tyler barely cooperated. Months upon months were spent in the hospital while he slowly healed after the torture endured, and while his body seemed okay, his mind was forever shattered. The mission felt like a set up, a great way to clear out some unwanted people, and Tyler could no longer trust the government he had served for nearly two decades. So when the decision was made to allow his to retire early, Tyler did not argue.

Going back to Texas did not feel like the right option, so a little under five months ago, Tyler finally picked out a small house in one of the neighborhoods in Aurora Bay, buying it using the settlement and retirement money he had received. He had always wanted a peaceful life by the ocean, with some animals, so when he came across some chicken and ducks in the farmer's market, he didn't hesitate buying them. It was a calm life, plagued with nightmares, but the man knew he needed it. He was retired, his life's plan gone and destroyed, but despite all of that, he knew better than to simply give up.

@aurorabayaesthetic