#not many people knowing the true sides of him save for thoma and to some degree ayaka

[venstm]

i'm having precisely 10k worth of ayato thoughts.

[feastonkings]

thomas brodie-sangster / he/him ——— no way is that DESPERATION ‘DES’ BACHMAN.. they’re a 28-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being MORBID & DETATCHED but there are some people who have seen them being ANALYTICAL & INQUISITIVE. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of carefully pinning wings to a board, vintage typewriters, sharp blazers and wonky ties, glasses smudged with the horrors and phenomenon of the nights before, and saving an insect from certain death to live another day, but that could just be because they’re considered the FRIEND TO BUGS around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

GENERAL.

full name: desperation thomas bachman nicknames: des, desie classification: human gender / pronouns: cis man, he/him age / birthday: 28, may 16th orientations: asexual, demi-romantic occupation: forensic mortician & entomologist location: middle status: single, closed family: misery bachman (sister), carrie bachman (sister) strengths: analytical, inquisitive, intelligent, logical, patient weaknesses: morbid, detached, introverted, inhibited, know-it-all character inspo: tbd

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: death, insects

the oldest of three, desperation was the first to be blessed cursed with a name based on his parents obsession— stephen king. they were weird but many would say des turned out to be just as weird or weirder.

him and his sisters, misery and carrie, grew up in the middle district which felt about right for them. just an average family of average means, with a side of weirdness.

des became intrigued with death and bugs from a young age. it started when he saw a luna moth for the first time and then grew when he saw a dead body feeding bugs.

when he looked more into it he learned how fascinating insects truly were and how they could answer many questions, especially for the environment and in criminal cases.

growing up he was often the loner, made fun of because of his missing of social cues and strange interests. it didn't bother him much, though.

the only exception being when he developed his first crush online on a message board, the person ended up catfishing him for two years and made a joke of him at some upper class senior party. for the rest of his senior year he studied from home to avoid the uptick in bullying but still walked with the rest of the class.

once in college he felt more comfortable, he got his degrees and got a majority of it paid for through scholarships he continuously applied for throughout. he made a few more friends and felt like he could be social more, though still not much.

he ended up getting a prestigious internship with a forensic mortician and learned how to apply his entomologist knowledge to cases both in and out of the city.

now he will sometimes get called to help on specific cases because of his special expertise. he tries to remain close with his siblings who were practically his only friends growing up.

he's attempting to branch out more and be more social but it's still hard for him, he'd rather be pinning a new specimen to a board or working on a new case. but he recognizes it can be good for him to get out more so he's trying.

HEADCANONS.

he can name over twenty thousand species of insects on sight and can often guess the others.

despite being the oldest, he tends to go to his sisters for advice about a lot of things

he was diagnosed as being on the spectrum in grade school, and has had to work to learn certain everyday functions but he does fine now and continues regular therapy sessions to keep it that way

coming soon...

[bad4amficideas]

Bat!Reader Childhood HCs

I'm posting random drafts. incomplete. And so. English with translator. I suppect this maybe even double posted. Uhm. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Note: English is not my language, so I hope you will be understanding of any flaws you find.

🦇Look. You wanted the robins (you already called them all robins even if there was more bats than birds) to become such. You wanted Dick, Tim and Duke with their parents alive and well. To Jason, Stephanie and Harper with the best family circumstances they could muster. Barbara, Luke, Carrie being carefree in their lives, Cassandra adopted in a happy place, maybe with Steph who was not her best friend in the comics for nothing. You wish you could have helped Kate (you were working on Helena and Azrael but were working in his legal name in this moment). Mother of God, you wanted to kill Batman for what it cost you to track down all these people, and even so you know you were missing people but you did pretty well and hell, you were working on it as you could.

Spoilers: Duke, Carrie, Harper, Helena, Azrael (Jean Paul & Michael), Luke Fox, and his predecessor Zavimbe. Batwoman's partner, all "saved" (because I don't know them well enough to write about them and part because the Joker died, the rage is over). Most of them now works or gonna work for WE or the GCPD (it's getting competent) anyway.

🦇But. You walked through your home, looking at empty rooms and fantasized about which one would be filling with each batfam. With how they would be in the mornings, growling, sticking their heads out or snorting at each other.

🦇 Having managed to get Alfred, your father in many ways, to move to a room closer to yours; (and you didn't know the peace of mind that gave you until he did it) a part of you longed for more.

🦇As Y/N Wayne you have a special relationship with Oswald since in your childhood circle he was the one who least infantilized you and you could go with him to do silly things and perhaps some "little savagery"

🦇This is important because with your onset of poison resistance your overall status and appearance as a child was always, regardless of your build, "fragile" looking, and most people tended to overprotect you. Someone from the Gotham paper even turned "Wayne's Treasure" into "Wayne's Gem" into "Wayne's Diamond" (more accurate than they think, hard, but brittle).

🦇Even Roman and Thomas were careful not to go too far in their abuse so people wouldn't say anything to them, which is what started the “they do that to you because they like you"- crap. It also doesn't help that you cousin (who was in her own traumatic moment) was one punch away from letting both of their noses loose. Like, minefield.

🦇Bats met Harvey Dent in high school. And Bats it's very surprised how easy it's to surround oneself with vips (villains-in-progress) in their city. In this AU, Harvey met "the gang" at Gotham Academy for a scholarship since he comes from a middle-class background here. So, to him find the golden child of Gotham being kind and humble and always treating him as an equal and taking his ideas into account. That touches the ego of any adolescent.

🦇Not that Bats didn't know a lot of other people, but Harvey was the only one who put up with the bullshit and bullying of Bats "friends" (putting him further on the road to district attorney ironically). Bats is sure they recognized the names of some Batman's love interests, or at least one female journalist, but they couldn't get close enough to find out.

🦇Their -Harvey's- friendship quickly gelled. Both idealists with similar political positions and true desire to do good for Gotham. A breath of fresh air for Bats, surrounded by two cynicals and a girl in a conflicting phase. Despite the fate that hung at the end of the Dent line Bats couldn't help but think how good it would be to have someone like Dent on their side, especially with the owls swarming and all the normal villains that would have to be put forever behind bars first, if they wanted to even think about the ones in colored costumes.

🦇Anyway, shortly after that year/s there was a disconnect with the world as Bats was abducted by the League of Assassins and then trained for 2 years until they was 18 when they ran away, comes back to Gotham and became Bats (and almost at the same time the tragedy of the circus happened but you're still catching up and you don't know that)

🦇I just realized, mathematically, I've made Dick a terrifying murderous prodigy. Fear, enemies of the Court, now the rhyme is legitimately scary.

🦇Continuing with LoA, Reader, you were there for two years and apart from apparently they trying getting you married and being a worthy possible successor, you left –run away- without having a clue what those people wanted with you. Problem. that's exactly what they wanted, the same thing they wanted in another world with Batman, you weren't going to get anything else no matter how much you snoop, but you refused to assimilate that idea, because “why me?” (If you wanna know, among others, they had noticed your private training and how you had been moving to "take Gotham" and other key points on the planet, as if it were your chessboard)

🦇At that time you really didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Or whether to be deeply indignant. This SURE didn't happen to Batman. Wasn't he volunteer to train in the League? Or after 18 anyway? You were already mixing things by stress. Or maybe were the multiverses in your head. What the hell were they doing kidnapping you to train you and shit about weddings? Okay, a couple thing happened to Bruce, but, You were a teenager. What was the word, grooming? Didn't these people have better things to do, like take over the world? to kill people? Also, what's the point of wanting a successor, IF YOU'RE FUCKING IMMORTAL, let's explain.

🦇And then. After you come back, you, Reader, have a lot of people to catch up with and a lot, LOT of explaining to do. And the damn entry into high society and active involvement in Wayne business... But hey, no one appreciates that you escaped from a cult group of super assassins ninjas who btw were still discussing who will you marry when you left. In order not to let women inherit, they are very progressive in everything else.

🦇 At least Alfred believes you. At least you can tell him the truth. On the other hand, it's the truth, imagine if he didn't believe you, having spent two years with a family that has been grooming you at the same time that training you to kill in 50 forms with a spoon. And luckily the batcave was almost set up, you only needed the suit and put together a coherent story of your two years of disappearance (because there is no way you will go through the high school for the third time, being that the League had homeschooled you those years, again). Oh, but some villains were teachers in college. And maybe that could delay your entry into the world of work. Maybe that was worth the try?

🦇The worst is that. Two years and your careful planning went almost all to the fret. Your straps, broken. Dent, thank God, is an attorney and there is nothing unusual about him. But the other two according to the intel you're starting to gather go already for Hush and Black Mask and have the underworld criminal city terrified, Oswald has some dirty things going, you know nothing about Kate but your guess is in the Military Academy, you will inquire, all doctors of their specialties are loaded in their guns (as who says) and, dammit two years and you weren't even in vacations! not fair!

🦇 Aggg, all hurry up and running now. Luckily you had years of planning, but you were afraid of making a mistake. And as soon as you got dressed, the clown would appear because that’s how Murphy works. Some things had been sped up, some had changed, you should start tracking all the robins for their safety...

🦇And you would throw some money and ideas at the Justice League and have them manage without you. They had a forensic and a demigoddess of war and truth, by all deities, they would manage.

Moar spoilers: Villains who did not pass the look of Bats or have been permanently "secured" in Gotham before do actual -big- damage: Falcone, Maroni, Zucco, Professor Pyg, Man-Bat (Ally, it never get to go through that crap), Jeremiah Arkham (diagnosed by out burn before it out of hands), King Tut (who the hell is this??), Clayface, Calendar Man, Condiment King, Deacon Blackfire, Dollmaker, Flamingo, James Gordon Jr., Jane Doe, King Snake (Bane did this), Prometheus (Green arrow doing), Sewer King (no kids in Jason watch), Solomon Grundy. And not just kill anyone who recreates in the pain of others.

🦇: Damn it, I'm one (1) Bat. I'm. NOT. Batman.

[whatisthismandoinghere]

So the Wagon Train episode “The Bob Stuart Story” is one of my favorites because I love the bit of backstory we get on Coop. It’s really good but I also got some beef with it 😂

I guess I should preface this a little bit. I know westerns really play up the back shooting bit and that they treat it like a cardinal sin, but there are times when it’s your only option. So I don’t necessarily hold true to that line of thinking and I honestly don’t know how controversial that is but I mean if you’re in a life or death situation and your potential killer turning their back on you is your only opportunity to get out of said situation, you take it I hope this makes some kind of sense I obviously don't mean that you should just go around shooting people in the back for fun though, there are times where it is a dirty move, but anywho onto the matter at hand

I do not care for Stuart, at all. And it’s not just because Coop is one of my favorite characters and he’s the one that shot him in the back I know I’m quite biased but I promise that ain’t it this time lol Yes range wars were a messy business and so was being a hired gun in one but Coop explained that when he saw the marshal coming that he was turning to tell his men to put their guns down Now while Stuart didn’t necessarily know that, it didn’t give him the right to shoot Coop in the back. It’s the same principle with law enforcement today (AND THIS IS NOT AN INVITATION TO DISCUSS THAT, THIS IS A POLITICS FREE POST, PLEASE DO NO START THAT HERE) but if you’re too scared to do your job, law enforcement isn’t for you. If you’re too afraid that someone’s gonna shoot you and you’re trigger happy at the slightest movement, then you shouldn’t be here Stuart had no right to assume what Coop was gonna do and he could’ve killed him

I also hate that since Coop had to unfortunately shoot his friend in the back he’s supposed to magically understand Stuart now. That’s not how this works. These were two completely different situations. Coop saw that his friend (I can’t remember if it was Felix or Thomas) was about to shoot Stuart who was defenseless at the moment because his gun had jammed. though I will argue that Stuart wasn’t worth saving and I would’ve just let him have it but I digress Stuart on the other hand had no idea what Coop was up to during that range war. Yes he could’ve been telling his men to fire, yes he could’ve been reloading his rifle, but he also could’ve been putting his gun down, or he could’ve been telling his men to do the same (which we learned was the case). With that many different possible circumstances you can’t just follow the philosophy of “shoot first, ask questions later”

Chris made me so mad in this episode too. Coop made the decision to be an adult and make him aware of the situation and Chris flat out tells him that he’ll side with the lawman until he can be convinced otherwise. And he said that right to his face And then two seconds later Chris is like “if it’s a life or death situation, Coop is the man I want in my corner” you can’t have it both ways pally. And the little lecture he gave him at the end about how no man is perfect, well yeah, obviously, that doesn’t excuse Stuart’s actions though!! Coop still has a right to be mad at the man who shot him in the back!! I really wish everyone would just stop trying to convince Coop otherwise and maybe take a minute to listen to his side of the story. Coop told Chris, “He (Stuart) hasn’t done anything to change my mind, Chris.” and he’s right, nothing has changed between them, Coop was just doing his job as the scout for the wagon train. He doesn't owe Stuart anything, whether that be respect, or forgiveness, or whatever

All of that complaining aside, I do really like how this episode explores a piece of Coop’s background, and it’s a really interesting one. It really adds another layer to his character and it’s a good bit of writing

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

July 16, 2024

“GUNS DON'T KILL PEOPLE”

Hey Wilson, how many times have you heard Republicans say,“Guns don't kill people, people kill people.” Way too many. We heard it after Sandy Hook; we heard it after the Route 91 Harvest music festival in Las Vegas; we heard it after Uvalde, Texas – the list of mass shootings in this country goes on and on and on. There may be limits on the First Amendment but with the Second Amendment, not so much. We have some 400 million firearms in the United States – more than one for every man, woman and child. This is a violent country with well over 40,000 gun-related deaths per year – an average of 120 per day. The United States imported or manufactured 2.8 million AR-15 assault-style rifles in 2020 alone. It is by far the biggest selling firearm and was designed for one purpose – to kill people. Not surprisingly Donald Trump was shot by an assault rifle purchased legally. Since 2016, Trump more than any other major political figure, has contributed to a rising trend in violent rhetoric. Now, however, Republicans are blaming Democrats for the attempted assassination, as though Dems had called for the violent insurrection of Jan. 6, 2021. No one knows why 20-year-old Thomas Matthew Crooks wanted to kill Trump but one thing is for sure – he wanted to do it with a gun. Call it freedom.

DEMONIC PORTAL OPENS OVER WHITE HOUSE

“Satan get thee behind me.” That's just one of the phrases heard echoing around Milwaukee's Republican National Convention where Democrats aren't political opponents but enemies to be smitten down like Kraken. Christian Nationalism has swarmed over the GOP confab, preaching that America's godliness is under siege and Christian soldiers must rise up to take it back. It's a fun-loving bunch who can throw down with the best. A “demonic portal” has opened above the Biden White House, said Donald Trump's fixer Roger Stone in The Washington Post. Former national security adviser Michael Flynn, called former House speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) a demon, the Post reported. As many MAGA acolytes know after watching a viral Trump video, God sent him to Earth to save it. They have, along with the former president, himself, compared Trump's trials and tribulations to the plight of Jesus of Nazareth. Proof positive: God saved Trump from an assassination attempt last weekend. Earlier, Trump declared election day, Nov. 5, as “Christian Visibility Day.” But it's not love the Trump faithful came to Milwaukee to spread but a call to arms. Matthew 10:34-36: “I came not to send peace, but a sword.” Oh yeah, and God bless America.

HEY GOV. COX, GO AHEAD, EAT YOUR DAMN CAKE

OK, we know politicians can talk out of both sides their mouths, but this takes the cake: (WARNING – possible neck injuries due to whiplash.) At the National Governors Association’s meeting last week Gov. Spencer Cox said he would not vote for Donald Trump but hopes he wins. Eat your cake and have it, too? Incredible. Yep, he's the same Gov. Cox who urged us to be kind to transsexuals and then signed legislation to keep them from public restrooms. What is wrong with our politics? Here's a clue: The Utah Supreme Court just ruled the state legislature can not mess with citizen initiatives – in this case, one that would create an independent commission to draw voting districts. The initiative passed after Utahns – particularly Salt Lake County residents – grew sick and tired of Republican gerrymandering that sliced up the county like rhubarb pie. True to form lawmakers twisted the public's petition into the same old pretzel. Voters sued. And guess who submitted an amicus brief on behalf of the legislature – Spencer “Disagree Better” Cox. Surprise! The court's unanimous ruling was met with sour grapes from GOP leaders. House Speaker Mike Schultz and Senate President Stuart Adams issued a joint statement, saying in part, “Boohoo. Who's democracy is this, anyway. Boohoo, boohoo.”

Post script – Well that's gunna do it for another historic week here at Smart Bomb where our staff keeps track of political rhetoric so you don't have to. Utah Sen. Mike Lee: “We need government control, not gun control. Otherwise, tribalism advances at the national level.” WTF. Former White House attorney Ty Cobb: “[I] think it was always Judge Aileen Cannon's objective, frankly, to prevent this (Trump's classified documents case) from going to trial.” House Speaker Mike Johnson: “When the message goes out constantly that the election of Donald Trump would be a threat to democracy, that the republic would end, I mean it, it heats up the environment.” Ohio Sen J.D.Vance (just selected as Trump's running mate): “I’m truly skeptical that Mike Pence’s life was ever in danger (on Jan. 6). I think politics and politics people like to really exaggerate things from time to time.” Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC): “Corruption, without consequence, infects all it touches. And that is why Congress has a constitutional and moral obligation to hold these (Supreme Court) justices accountable...” she said introducing a pair of resolutions calling for the impeachment and removal of Justices Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito.

Hells bells Wilson, it's kinda like we've collided with a parallel universe where everything is crazy or maybe someone put LSD in the water supply. You know, they are selling all kinds of new bottled water said to be magic. Who knows. What we do know is that you and the band have something apropos for this moment in history. So, hit it, Wilson:

One pill makes you larger And one pill makes you small And the ones that mother gives you Don't do anything at all Go ask Alice When she's ten feet tall And if you go chasing rabbits And you know you're going to fall Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar Has given you the call Call Alice When she was just small When the men on the chessboard Get up and tell you where to go And you've just had some kind of mushroom And your mind is moving low Go ask Alice I think she'll know When logic and proportion Have fallen sloppy dead And the White Knight is talking backwards And the Red Queen's off with her head Remember what the dormouse said Feed your head Feed your head

(White Rabbit – Jefferson Airplane)

[lavendermage]

Lost in Inazuma

Characters: Thoma, Itto, Arataki gang

Genre: sagau, no gendered pronouns 

TW: panic attack

1.7k words

AN: I wrote this a bit ago, I just cannot post on mobile without wacking my head into a wall. I got a few fics that will be out soon.

The street bustled with activity, the vendors calling out to potential customers. Children ran between the sweet-sellers. There were so many people, far more than what you were comfortable with. You stuck close to Thoma, your side almost touching him, running your fingers over the hem of your top. 

"How are you holding up?" He asked you, allowing his hand to brush yours. I'm here, the touch said. 

"Fine, for now. Thanks for coming with me." He had offered to escort you to buy some true teas, not the plants you tore out of the ground and half-dried before brewing.

"That's what friends are for. Plus, you'll brew some of it for me, won't you?" 

"Of course. Thoma look here!"  You caught his hand and ran towards one of the stalls. He barely had time to react.

Dried flowers hung from the roof and colorful boxes of various teas stood in stacks on the table. Each bunch was labeled carefully in Inazuman, a perfect chance to practice. The seller was an old lady, her face etched with smile lines.

You were already examining the wares, slightly bowing to see better. Thoma couldn't help but watch as your eyes shined with excitement, captivated by your joy. You were so beautiful like this.

 "Oh my, Thoma! I didn't know you had a lover." The old woman said. "Quite a few people will be disappointed."

"Oh, no, we- we're not-" He stumbled on his words, his face flushing pink.

"We're coworkers, and friends." You explained, saving Thoma from further embarrassment. You didn't even look up, continuing to check the tea.

"For now…" The old lady wiggled her eyebrows.

"Mrs. Honda!" 

You laughed. "Hey, could you read this for me?" You pointed to a tag.

"Sure. 'Chamomile from Fontaine.' You want some?"

"Yeah, it will help you sleep. Plus some lavender, and this green tea."

The lady packaged it in a beautiful fabric and waved goodbye. As you left you gave Thoma a look. 

He sighed. "Are you going to tease me too?" 

"I would never!” You put a hand to your heart dramatically. “I was just wondering if you know everyone in the city."

"Not everyone, but knowing people is part of my job."

"You are-" Fear choked your voice.

A ruckus was happening ahead, involving some Tenryo doushin. You recognized one of them. He was part of the group that had been hunting you. You pressed yourself into Thoma and he put a hand to your shoulder.

"Should we go back?" His heart ached as he saw you like this, shaking like a leaf. It reminded him of how you'd acted with the Kamisato guard, but so much worse.

You were about to nod, but you noticed a familiar face in the shuffle. "Itto." You balled your fists determinedly and headed towards him.

Thoma could only chase behind you, surprised at the sudden change.

As you got closer you realized the whole gang was there, except Shinobu. Genta looked ready to fight somebody and the vendor at the center looked somewhere between annoyed and terrified. 

"Hey, Itto, what's the problem here?" You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

He turned to you with a wide smile. "Goldie! This person here was trying to overcharge us." He pointed angrily at the vendor.

"I am not! These buffoons just can't count."

"May I check?" They showed you the goods and you counted them up. "Itto, you added it wrong." 

"Ah, really?" He scratched his head nervously. "We, uh, don't have enough mora then." The gang groaned.

"How much do you need?" You pulled out your wallet. "Think of it as paying you back."

"You don't have to." He was always lacking self control. All you had to do was push a bit.

"You almost started a fight because of it," You glanced at Genta, now calm but red from embarrassment. "So take the mora."

"If you insist." He made a show of giving up.

"Thank you so much!" The vendor said, before dropping his voice to a whisper. "I thought I was done for. That oni-"

"Wouldn't hurt a fly. He might look scary, but he's not violent."

"Even so, it could have escalated. Thank you." The doushin said, stepping towards you. "You seem familiar. Have we met before?"

You flinched. His spear had been pointed at you just weeks before and if he recognized you it would be there again. It had glinted purple as he and his archon chased you. You bit back panic. Thoma stepped in with some excuse you didn't have the energy to process while Itto practically carried you away.

He put you down in an alleyway, hidden from sight, and crouched next to you. "Hey, Goldie, what's wrong?" 

You pulled yourself into a ball and started crying, tears slipping under your mask. You were scared, so terrified that it was all you could think about. The thud of armored boots, the glint of metal, the taste of blood.

Thoma rounded the corner to see you shaking. He wanted to cry too when you didn't recognize him, when you ran into Itto's arms for comfort and safety. But this wasn't about him, so he stood aside as you calmed down. 

When you came to your senses, you immediately started apologizing. "I'm sorry for that. And Thoma, please don't take it personally."

Thoma let you finish before speaking. "I'm not insulted, there's no need to apologize. Do you know what triggered it?"

You hid your face in your knees. There was no reason to lie. "That man hurt me."

If you had seen Itto's face, you might have changed your mind about him 'not hurting a fly'. The oni blood pounded in his veins. He looked ready to kill as he pulled you closer to his chest. He didn't trust himself to speak without the anger in his voice scaring you.

Instead Thoma continued. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want to report him?"

"Not safe."

Itto had calmed himself enough to speak. "Whatever you want, Goldie, your wish is my command."

You smiled. "Thanks, you guys. It means a lot."

"Let's get you back home." Thoma said.

You nodded.

"I'll carry you!" Itto swung you into his arms.

"You don't have to!" You grabbed his neck to stabilize yourself.

"But I want to."

Thoma watched you with an unfamiliar feeling beating in his chest. You had something going on with the oni, something that went past casual friends. You had pushed your panic aside to help him and he would probably kill for you. Not that he didn't understand that feeling. He had known you for less than a week but already cared for you deeply. How exactly he felt even he couldn't pinpoint.

"You ok?" You asked, looking over Itto's shoulder. While he was thinking you had already started on the way back. "Please understand you didn't do anything wrong."

"I know, don't worry." He jogged a few steps to catch up to you and Itto. 

Itto filled the silence with meaningless chatter. You were grateful for the opportunity to sit in silence in his arms. You drifted half to sleep, barely noticing when you passed the Kamisato guards. You woke when you were placed on your futon and lazily opened your eyes.

"Oops! Didn't mean to wake you, Goldie." Itto said.

"It's fine." You stretched. 

"You've got a nice place here." Itto looked around the room. "Little small though."

You laughed as you noticed his horns scraping the ceiling. "Sit down." You patted the bed next to you. He did, and the room shook slightly.

"Was that the guy you were running from when we found you?"

You nodded. "Among others."

"Me and the gang could–"

"Absolutely not." You crossed your arms. "I don't want you in jail again."

"It's no big deal." He brushed off your comment.

"Itto." You sighed and smiled sadly. "I appreciate it. But if you wanted to get back at everyone that hurt me, you'd have to fight through the Shogun's army."

"What?" 

Shoot. "I mean, a lot of people have hurt me."

"Oh, ok." You can tell he doesn't fully believe you. "I gotta go back before Shinobu thinks I got locked up again."  He pulled you into his chest. "If you need anything, the gang's here. Just come over."

"Thanks." You melted into his warmth for a moment before pulling away. "Please, don't tell the others. I don't want them to do something stupid."

"I won't." He was strangely quiet when he left.

It took you a few minutes to gather yourself enough to go down to get dinner. Thoma was waiting for you, a seat beside him saved for you. "How are you?" He asked, concern etched in his face.

"Just really tired and a bit jumpy." You answered honestly. You ate quickly, just shoving the food down your throat, before putting away your plates. "Thoma, are you done?"

"Ah, yes."

"Can we talk?"

He nodded and followed you out the hall.

"Please don't tell anyone else about this…."

"Of course."

"I want you to understand something." You took a deep breath before starting your planned explanation. "I was running from that man when I found Itto. When you found me today, I panicked because I felt like I did back then, it felt like he was finding me. It was situational, and had nothing to do with you as a person." 

"You don't need to explain yourself."

"I know it's just…" You scrambled for the right words. "You're the type of person who would think it was your fault. I don't want you to blame yourself."

He reached out to your face to brush away a tear. "And you're the type of person to think of others before yourself." Something flashed in his eyes. "Is he the reason you wear the mask?"

"Kind of. It's complicated, even I don't know what's going on. It just feels safer to wear it."

"That makes sense." He stood up and helped you up. "Today must have been tiring for you. Is it alright if I walk you to your room?"

"That would be nice." Maybe you were safe here.

[aggravatetheaxe]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request an imagine where a victim “escapes” from the slashers and hurts s/o in the process. What would the slashers do during and after? Thank you!!

Hi! I wasn't sure which slashers you wanted for this, so I put my list into a randomizer and went with the first 5!

Walter Sullivan

Thomas Hewitt

Jason Voorhees

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Erik ("The Phantom")

SLASHERS WHOSE VICTIM HURTS THEIR S/O

cw: mentions of suicide, reader being injured/in mortal peril, mentions of torture and killing etc etc

--

Walter Sullivan

Oh no. Oh dear.

You are possibly the only good, pure thing in this world or the Otherworld and someone hurt you? Walter is ... not happy, to put it lightly. The only person who should ever hurt you is him, and he won't do that unless it's for your own good.

This only enforces his belief that the world and everyone in it are monstrous. It drives home the truth he's already convinced of - this existence in terrible and torturous and needs to be destroyed if anything holy is ever going to be allowed to blossom again.

Whether The Victim is pre- or post- Walter's suicide, he's already stopping at nothing to go after them. He doesn't view it as personal, he doesn't hold any particular hatred for most (most) of his victims; they're simply links in a chain. But this person, the one who hurt you ... it's personal. They'll die in absolute agony.

If the victim in question is pre-suicide, Walter will bring them down and find somewhere to keep them for later. This will not be a quick death.

While they're bound/gagged or knocked out, he'll check on you. You're special, possibly even the Mother Reborn, and he can't let you die until the time is right. If you're seriously injured, he'll see to it that you're taken to the hospital, and pray to a dead God if he has to that you'll be alright. If you're not seriously injured, he'll do his best to patch you up - he lived on the streets for many years and had to take care of himself, so he knows basic first aid.

Once he's certain you're safe, he will put you somewhere where you won't witness what he's about to do. Even if you want to see it, he'll insist you stay hidden, saying the sinner doesn't deserve to be in your presence. You'll have to really convince him if for some reason you want to watch.

Their torture will depend on what they did to you. If it was just a few scrapes and cuts, he'll let them feel every ounce of pain before they die. If they really hurt you, their torture will be prolonged. In his mind, and according to his religion, death is a sacred sacrament, and this evil being doesn't deserve its release. If they did something to seriously traumatize and/or sully you ... the crime scene he leaves behind is going to be grisly, to put it lightly.

If the victim in question is post-suicide, the results will be similar, but he has absolute control over the Otherworld - and he will utilize that. He will have his creations take care of you and keep you somewhere safe ... they may be terrifying, but they won't hurt you unless he wills it. As for the victim, he can twist them into their worst nightmares over and over again before killing them. He will make them see their wrongdoings and pay for their evil. They will beg for mercy and there will be none.

After it all, he will simply move onto the next one, with you somewhere safe ... until it's time. Until it's time. You are so perfect.

Thomas Hewitt

Dammit. If he'd just been quicker or smarter, he could have caught them before they escaped and hurt you. He immediately blames himself.

There's no time to beat himself up over it, though. He briefly checks to make sure you're not bleeding from anywhere vital and sends you (or locks you up) somewhere safe before going after the victim. You're on your own for first aid for now - unless you're literally dying, he can't let them leave the property.

If you are literally dying, he's staying and doing all he can to help you. But if Hoyt yells, he may have to pawn you off on someone else and hope they do a good job taking care of you. He'll hold your face and give you tender kisses goodbye - whether you want them or not - because this might be the last time he ever sees you.

He chases the victim in a fever, much more erratic than you would expect from him. He's faster, less careful, more inclined to put himself at risk just to get a swing in at them. It's not generally anything personal when he kills someone - it's something he does for the good of his family, and because he was told to. This one he's not interested in saving for meat. They hurt you. You, his special person. He's going to grind them into the mud, and he's not even going to let Hoyt have a go at them.

Sometimes, sometimes, he struggles to see the animals in his victims. But this one ... he doesn't even feel the urge to twist them into an animal. That's a whole human, an evil one, one he wants to kill. It's a different feeling for him.

Once it's all over and everything's calmed down, he's rushing directly to your side. People don't come around all too often, so he's comfortable putting down the chainsaw for now. He neglects any skin projects he planned and lets someone else do the butchering, focusing on taking care of you, especially if you're seriously injured and put up in bed.

If you're not as seriously injured and tell him you're fine, he's still keeping an eye on you ... and making sure you're well-fed. You've been through a lot and it was all his fault. He doesn't want you to be exposed like that again. Next time someone comes around, he'll insist you hide somewhere.

Jason Voorhees

It's a toss up whether or not he'll actually notice you're hurt. Not because he doesn't care or anything, but because Camp Crystal Lake is a lot of ground to cover and there's a low chance he'll be in the same area as you at any given time.

For this imagine, though, let's assume you've found your way to him or he's sensed you're in trouble and has rushed to you.

You were supposed to be safe in the cabin, so he's a little irritated that you wandered out, but that's completely overshadowed when he realizes you're hurt. He stops everything he's doing and clinically and thoroughly pats you down, identifying every solitary injury.

Just like his mother before him, he is a vengeful soul, so he is not letting this go even if you're just scraped or bruised. If you are critically injured, he'll at least get you to the cabin and get a tourniquet on you.

Otherwise, he leaves you behind. Not very mindful, but you should know that he wants you to get back to the cabin or at least stay out of the way. He is no longer thinking of you - he has established his target and knows what he has to do. He's laser focused and decisive as he stalks after them, using anything at his disposal to get to them.

Their death is quick - he doesn't play around - but he has a lingering sense of irony and playfulness. If there's a particularly interesting weapon nearby, he'll take them out with that; or perhaps he'll hurt them in the way they hurt you, just, you know ... more fatal. And a lot gorier.

After that, he'll move onto their friends, until every last one is dead. Once his objective is completed, he is returning to you directly and finishing the job of patching you up.

He can't help but feel a little guilty that you were hurt. You shouldn't have left the cabin, true, but perhaps he should have been watching for you. He should have locked you up. Pamela might say rude things in his head. Then again, she might comfort him. If she doesn't like you, maybe she'll even wish he'd left you to die.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Well ... you usually keep him around to scare off other Ghostfaces - something he's very handy at - but you don't usually run into trouble with his victims.

He doesn't really tell you to go anywhere in particular when he's killing. He knows you can take care of yourself. But now he feels stupid for not having a backup plan. Of course some asshole was gonna eventually identify you as his loved one and try to get cute. He should've had something prepared for that.

But, if he's good at anything, it's improvising. He skids into whatever room you're in, drops his weapon, and pulls his mask off right away to check you over. If you're only mildly injured, he's visibly relieved, and tells you to stay put while he deals with whomever hurt you. If you're more seriously injured, he'll grab your phone and shove it in your hand. "Get in the car, get the fuck out of here. Drive to the emergency room if you have to, just leave."

If you're unable to drive, he'll make you call emergency services - or call them for you, if he has to. The game is over, he's done playing; this isn't fun if he's not winning. Everyone in this place is gonna be dead and he'll be long gone by the time the ambulance shows up for you.

The one who hurt you is going to get an extra special surprise. A particularly grisly death, and a bunch of selfies/short videos of Ghostface with the corpse - taken with the victim's own phone, posted to their instagram, tiktok, facebook, sent to any discord groups, and any other social media they have. If he has the time, he'll even make them in meme formats (definitely posting with meme captions, the fucking troll). He'll probably send a copy to you as a "hey, look what I did!"

If there are survivors, especially if that survivor is the one who hurt you, you better believe he is immediately doxxing them. Since he's had a little time to cool down, he might even play the long game, maybe catfishing and blackmailing them. Ruining their pathetic little life even further would be pretty fun. In the end, though, they'll die like all the others.

When all is said and done, he's going to be there for you, helping you recover any way he can. He'd suggest rest (for an amount of time relative to your injury), some movies and candy, maybe some video games. And time spent with your favorite Ghostface, of course, right?

He'll never forget what happened, though. Even though the person is dead, he'll be stewing and pissed off about it for a long, long time. And he won't let something like that happen again, or at least, not without a contingency plan in place.

The hash mark/tally mark he stitches into his costume to symbolize this kill is gonna be twice as long and large as the others, maybe in the place you got hurt as a reminder.

Erik

You already know what's about to happen.

If anyone so much as hurts your feelings they're getting menaced and receiving a strongly worded letter - actually physically harming you? That's suicide.

If he can't immediately kill this person, or if you're seriously injured, his primary objective is helping/comforting you. He has to push down a lot of wrath to do it ... every instinct tells him to immediately dispatch the fiend responsible ... but you are more important to him than anything in this world, even revenge. He will administer any first aid you need and may even drug you with ether to ensure you rest.

Don't think that means your attacker is off the hook, though. As soon as he decides you're well enough, he will put you somewhere safe - lock you away if he has to - and kill them. His preferred method is the Punjab lasso, but if they did something particularly egregious, he'll knock them out and take them to his torture chamber. They have a lesson to learn before they go to Hades.

Another option is, like Deacon, playing the long game ... playing with his food, stalking them, making them live in fear before they die. But he has a lot of wrath in that skinny little body, so it's a toss up as to whether or not he'll actually be able to follow through with that for very long. It depends on his mood, really!

He will keep the killing and torture hidden from you, of course ... unless you express an interest in seeing the vengeance being carried out. He would be worried for you, however, and advise against it. Those sights are not for the faint of heart, and certainly not for someone as beautiful and good as you.

Once all is said and done, it's as if it never happened. As if that person never existed! What a happy thought! Sometimes you even think Erik has completely forgotten the incident ... until he's stalking another victim and he locks you away again, and you remember you are always on his mind. He will never, never let that happen to you again.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Nobody Left Behind

Prompt: So I don't know if you're taking requests? But I just watched Lilo and Stitch for the first time since I got into TSS and I've adopted the headcanon that it is Remus's *favorite* movie (and he's memorized the script) and I love your writing and I'd love to see something angsty involving Remus feeling lonely/unloved by his brother, and maybe Lilo and Stitch is involved somehow. IDK, go wild. (and feel free to ignore this if you aren't taking requests) <3 - anon

it is Le Fluff™ hours my good bitches

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Remus has some abandonment issues, but it’s not too much

Pairings: it is platonic all the way down, babes

Word Count:  2935

Ohana means family.

 Family.

 FamILY.

 What a weird word.

Sometimes it’s the people you’re born with. Well, not ‘with,’ not necessarily, but the people you are born to. A mother, a father, a sister, a brother. Sometimes two mothers, sometimes two fathers, sometimes a different parent. Sometimes two sisters, sometimes two brothers, sometimes a different sibling. Sometimes a mess of assorted people that all share the same blood. A family.

 Remus wasn’t born.

 He was made though, crafted and shaped and born out of the swirling chaos of a child’s mind that didn’t understand the world well enough without other people to help. He remembers getting cobbled together from scraps of thoughts and feelings and morphing them into limbs, into features, into something that vaguely resembled the body of the child he was made to fit. Not the ‘fitting’ was ever his job.

 Just his brother’s.

 Is his brother his family?

 By all accounts he should be, right? A brother is one of those people that are traditionally part of the ‘family’ group, right, someone to laugh with, cry with, fight with, live with. But is Roman really his…brother?

 That’s what they decided to call themselves because nothing else worked. They weren’t really brothers, they were halves. But they weren’t really halves because there was never a whole to begin with.

 The King wasn’t a ‘whole,’ he was…well, he was the King. Half of a king is not a prince. Half of a king is not a duke.

 Half of a king is a mess of blood and bones and viscera dripping off of the end of a Morningstar in the middle of the night when only a destroyed facsimile makes the insanity bleed away just enough to breathe again.

 The closest thing to twins, is what they decided on eventually. They’re twins. One light, one dark. One that marches boldly into danger to confront the wickedness of the world, one that dwells in the shadows and cackles with the demons nipping at his heels. One that loves, one that isn’t loved.

 Sure, they had some things in common. They both loved to fight, hence the scars and the bruises and the wounds that would never, ever heal, the distrust that would never be fixed ever, because the urge to sink their teeth into each other’s necks and rip never went away. They both loved to make, Roman the peaceful lies he tells himself to make up for the gaping wounds Remus leaves as he carves his perfectly tailored destruction. They both love Disney.

 Roman’s made it part of his whole deal as the Prince, he loves Disney. He bursts into song every chance he gets, drags the others in until the Mindscape rings with joyful song and there’s nowhere left for any sadness or darkness. He takes his lessons from it, models himself using the traits of the characters he admires most. Cultivates his art of storytelling, perfect to a tee.

 Remus loves Disney too. Loves how easy it is to twist the lens to distort the image just enough to let the darker parts of the Imagination run wild. What is the real implication of never growing old, never understanding what it means to die? What kind of person curses a ten-year-old boy for being cautious about who he answers the door to? What could the story have been if the prince never comes to save the day?

 When they were smaller it was fine. When they were still getting used to the fact that they weren’t King anymore, they used to sit and watch so many Disney movies. Roman’s favorite was always changing, one week it was Beauty and the Beast, then it was Mulan, then it was Cinderella, it never stayed the same.

 Remus’s was always Lilo and Stitch.

 Roman never understood it, said it was boring, there wasn’t a prince, there wasn’t anything exciting. Remus said that aliens were plenty exciting, thank you very much.

 But they would always watch it. The King wasn’t there anymore, but the prince and the Duke were.

 …when they were smaller, there was one time where the prince wasn’t there at all.

 Remus remembers waking up one day and feeling like he was being Split all over again. The maggots in his bones reached their awful little mouths into his heart and pulled, yanking him all the way across the bed and to the door, howling and screaming for his twin.

 Only to be met with a blank wall.

 He remembers howling at the top of his lungs until Janus had rushed to his side, kneeling down next to him and telling him shh, be quiet, hush now, you’re alright, you’re not hurt. And when he couldn’t explain that he was hurt, half of him was missing, Remus needed to go find him, Janus’s mouth had hardened into a thin line and told him that there wasn’t anything to worry about.

 He remembers thinking that was a lie.

 But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a lie.

 Roman was fine.

 Roman was more than fine, because Roman had a family.

 Roman had Patton, who is the actual manifestation of sunshine and rainbows and loved so much it almost burns. The darkness that wrapped around Remus’s corner of the Imagination screeched and hissed at the very idea of being loved that much, even as part of him strained with all its might to get to it. But Patton would never set foot near this side of the Mindscape.

 Roman had Logan, who represents everything true about the Mindscape, about Thomas, about the world. The reality of things that would never let anything Remus created make it anywhere close to anything important because it was dangerous, it was hurtful, and it was wrong. Logan wouldn’t want anything to do with something so useless.

 And that was okay. Because Roman may have been gone but Remus wasn’t alone. Remus had Virgil, who lived with fear soaking every fiber of his being. Remus had Janus, who wrapped himself in darkness and obscurity and laughed.

 But then Virgil left. And now Roman had Virgil, who used Thomas’s anxieties to keep him safe, to help Roman and the others figure out what to do, how to take care of everybody, and how to make the darkness go away. And Virgil would never willingly sink himself back into the darkness when he’d spent so long clawing himself out of it.

 But that was okay, because Remus had Janus. Janus, who plotted and schemed and smirked at how easily the others were pulled along by his strings, luring them deeper and deeper as Remus readied his Morningstar for the trap to be sprung.

 But then they sprung the trap and everything went wrong.

 Roman didn’t want to fight. He just…he let Remus knock him out and didn’t show up again except to scoff and say he didn’t like him.

 And that was…wrong.

 Because Roman wasn’t supposed to like him but he was never only supposed to not like him. Roman was supposed to declare that he wasn’t welcome and try and slash him with his sword. Roman was supposed to try and banish him from the Mindscape and spit insults at him until he left, cackling all the while. Roman was supposed to hate him.

 But Roman didn’t hate him, he just…he just said he didn’t like him.

 But that was okay, because Janus could just come up with a better plan with him this time. They could do it properly, and Roman would hate him again and it would be back to normal.

 But then Janus left. And now Roman has Janus, who keeps his eyes where the prince’s aren’t, when he can’t see what’s happening or he can’t bear to look, to help Roman figure out what to do when what seems to be happening isn’t anything that the prince is used to dealing with. And Janus would never willingly step away from a place that finally accepted him.

 Roman has them now. Roman has people that chose him. Roman’s family chose him. He chose them. They chose each other.

 Remus’s grip on his Morningstar slackens and the thing falls to the ground with a heavy clunk. He moves numbly through his room until he can fall to his knees on his bed.

 He just came from the living room. They were all there. Roman was talking with Logan, ranting about some new show they were both watching. Janus was in the kitchen with Patton, making something for dinner that everyone—well, almost everyone—could eat. Virgil was on the back of the couch, reaching out for Roman’s shoulder every once in a while.

Remus had waited behind the couch. For someone to sit down, for someone to see him and shriek, or even maybe—just maybe—for someone to ask where he was.

 But no.

 Patton had come over and gently ruffled Virgil’s hair, saying that dinner was ready. Logan and Roman had moved into the kitchen, demanding Janus’s attention and pulling him into their conversation. Virgil had murmured a quiet thank you and Roman had asked him for what?

 “Y’know,” Virgil had said, “for…this.”

 “Of course,” Roman had laughed, the soft rustle of fabric as he probably pulled the emo in for a hug—what did those feel like?— “I should be thanking you?”

 “What for, kiddo?”

 “I dunno, it just…feels like it’s been forever since we’ve all sat down for dinner together.”

 Remus’s chest had started to hurt.

 “The whole family.”

 The whole family.

 Remus’s eyes well up with stubborn tears and he angrily swipes them away, baring his teeth at the memory and focusing intently on the things on the bed. Each hand-stitched, each carefully kept clean.

 His family.

 He reaches out with a shaking hand and tucks the blue frog plushie into the crook of his arm, crawling into the middle of the bed and balancing the purple spider on his shoulder. His hands keep shaking as he wraps the long yellow snake securely around his neck, clutching the head under his chin and nuzzling it protectively. The dark blue cat he holds in his other hand, careful not to tear its tie as he scrunches in on himself.

 Wait.

 Wait.

 Where is it?

 No, no, no, no—

 Remus growls, placing all of his family gently on the floor before all but tearing at his sheets. Where is it, where is it, where is it—his heartbeat starts to rise as his search grows more frantic, where is it, where is it—

 The slightest little puff of red hair and he howls, lunging for it and sweeping it into his lap. He pauses to make sure the lion’s crown didn’t fall off and sighs when he sees it still in place. He sets the lion between his legs and leans over, adjusting everyone back into place and scrunching himself into a ball again. He rubs his nose against the lion’s fur and nuzzles into the soft fabric.

 He’d never be able to forgive himself if he lost them.

 Because Ohana means family.

 Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.

——————————————————

There’s a knock on his door.

 Why is someone knocking on his door?

 They knock again.

 Remus looks up, carefully butting the spider out of the way with his head and sitting up. The snake hangs off his shoulder and he lets it, only missing its warmth once the knock sounds again.

 The frog and the cat watch him warily as he climbs out of bed, the lion clutched in his hand.

 The door squeaks slightly as he opens it.

 “So, I’ve got popcorn, I found the weird gummy snakes, and they had this chocolate-covered bacon which we have to try—Remus?”

 Roman?

 Roman stands there, his arms full of snacks and blankets, his head tilted. He glances behind Remus—probably to check something or other—and then back at him.

 “Remus? Are you okay?”

 “Why are you here?” Roman doesn’t like him.

 “It’s movie night, Re, of course, I’m here.” Roman chuckles nervously before taking in his tear-stained face. “Hey, Re, what’s going on? Are you okay? Can I come in?”

 Why is Roman here? Roman has his family, what is he doing here? With Remus?

 “Remus—“ oh, right, Roman’s talking to him—why is Roman talking to him?—in a soft voice now— “Remus, hey, look at me.”

 Remus blinks. Oh. Roman looks concerned now, he’s reaching for him.

 “Hey,” he murmurs as he ruffles Remus’s hair, “what’s going on? Have you been crying?”

 Remus nods dumbly.

 “I’m sorry, Re, can I help?”

 Help? Why does Roman want to help?

 Oh, he’s waiting for an answer.

 “…sure.”

 “Thank you,” Roman says softly, “can I come in?”

 Remus steps aside wordlessly and Roman walks in, pausing when he sees the rest of Remus’s family on the bed.

 “Did you make them?”

 Something dark twists in Remus’s chest as he sees Roman reach for the spider.

 “Don’t.”

Roman backs off, stepping back as Remus snatches up his family and cradles them in his lap, glaring at Roman and curling up on the bed.

 “I won’t, Re, I’m sorry,” Roman says, still speaking softly, “can I sit?”

 “…floor.”

 Roman sits on the floor, setting aside the blankets and snacks, looking up at him. He still looks concerned. Why? Roman doesn’t like him.

 “Why weren’t you at dinner,” he asks gently, “I was worried.”

 Worried? About him? Remus snorts.

 “You had your whole family there,” he spits, “why would you worry?”

 “But you weren’t there,” Roman says like that makes any difference, “so I was worried.”

 Remus shakes his head. Roman doesn’t get it. Roman doesn’t worry about him, he worries about other things. But if Roman wants to know why he wasn’t at dinner, he’ll tell him.

 “I was with my family.”

 Roman’s brow furrows as he glances around again. “…your family?”

 Remus huddles protectively around his family. “Yes. My family.”

 Roman’s eyes widen as he takes in Remus’s posture and how he reacted when Roman asked about them earlier.

 “…are they your family, Remus?”

 “Yes.” He holds them tighter. “I chose them. They won’t leave me. They won’t forget me. That’s what family means.”

 Something crosses Roman’s face and he lets out a wounded noise. Wait. Are they fighting?

 “Wait, Remus,” he murmurs, rising up to his knees, “did you—did you think we forgot you?”

 “You did forget me.”

 “I’m sorry, Remus, I would’ve come to look for you, but I thought—“ Roman shakes his head— “no, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should’ve come got you, Re, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

 Oh.

 “…you didn’t?”

 Roman shakes his head furiously. “No, Remus, I promise. I never meant to leave you.”

 “But everybody leaves me.”

 If possible, Roman’s eyes are now wider and he scrambles for the edge of the bed. “What do you mean, Remus, what do you mean everybody leaves you?”

 “You left. Virgil left. Janus left. Everybody left.” The lion’s mane brushes against his lips as he bows his head. “But not them. They won’t leave me.”

 “Oh, Remus—“

 Something big lunges at him and Remus whimpers, he doesn’t have his Morningstar, he doesn’t want to fight, he doesn’t—he doesn’t—

 What’s happening? He feels warm and he’s being squished and Roman is pressing himself against him and what—what—

 “What’re you doing?”

 “It’s a hug, Remus,” comes Roman’s voice, slightly muffled, from over his shoulder, “I’m hugging you.”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 “R-Ro?”

 “Yeah, Re, I’m here, I’m right here, I won’t forget you, I won’t leave you behind, you’re my brother, you’re my family, I choose you.” Roman’s grip tightens on him and Remus just about gasps. “I choose you and I want you and I like you.”

 Roman…Roman likes him?

 Roman chooses him?

 Roman won’t…leave?

 “No, Remus,” Roman promises as he cautiously asks, “I won’t leave. Not unless you want me to.”

 “No.”

 “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

 That’s it.

 Remus throws his arms around his twin and sobs, cries an entire ocean of tears into his brother’s shoulder because he’s here and he cares and he chose Remus. The darkness shudders as that small part of him surges forward, into Roman’s chest, finding a home in the prince’s heart and languishing in the warmth there.

 “I’m right here, Re,” Roman murmurs, stroking up and down his back, “right here, I’ve got you.”

 The snake drapes itself cautiously over Roman’s shoulder, the spider taking up watch on his knee. The cat and the frog stare at him, making sure he isn’t lying, that he won’t change his mind. The lion, sandwiched between them, feels the reassuring rumble from Roman’s chest and purrs.

 After a long, long time, Remus pulls back a little and scuffs a hand over his nose.

 “…did you say something about chocolate-covered bacon?”

 Roman’s smile lights up.

 “Let’s put on Lilo and Stitch and we’ll try it.”

 Ohana means family.

 Family means no one gets left behind.

 Or forgotten.

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[moral-turpitudes]

The Bodyguard:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

Trigger Warnings: None really tbh.

Characters: Ada Shelby x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,358

Requested: Yes, by anon. You can find it here.

“You sure you’re okay with her? You don’t want a male bodyguard?” Linda asked as she helped Ada with the cooking for the family meeting that was soon approaching.

“I’m sure. Women can be deadly too, don’t worry love.” Ada snidely remarked as she went to set the table.

It had been two weeks since she’d moved to London and due to her brother Thomas’ “business affairs” he’d urged her to move. But being as she hated how he made his blood-money, she agreed. Just longingly wishing her husband would’ve been there with her. To see the Shelby family grow, to see their son Karl grow, to laugh with him like she used to. It’s in those little moments that she missed him the most, knowing her true love would never walk through that ornate wooden door.

With a loud ringing, the doorbell signaled she was there.

Ada’s nerves set in slightly as she’d remembered why she picked her. Out of all the people she inquired about in regards to her protection, she just didn’t get along with any of the men that Tommy had proposed.

She was the last guard to come in, earning a confused glance from the men as she fired some warning shots at a target. Out of the Shelby’s Ada was the only one in attendance, since she’d have to deal with the person who’d probably have to save her life after all. The least she could do was choose wisely.

She’d walked in with heels that had a thin layer of the Birmingham mud caked on them. She’d walked from her secret home there to where Ada was gathered. Her hair tied back as she adjusted the long coat around her waist. Her eyes were cold and calculating, just like her brothers. But she had an endearing smile, one that could easily sucker people in if they weren’t careful.

“Y/N…hello it’s great to see you. Shall I show you to your room?” Ada asked as Linda skeptically stared from the kitchen.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” You said, your eyes shifting from Linda and onto the staircase. The steps creaked as they aged. The nails rusted and loose, posing a definite hazard.

“I’ll fix those for you. Doubt they’ve been fixed in ages.” You said as Ada opened the door to the rather lavish space.

“Oh you don’t, they’re nothing really.” She said, her hand skimming yours slightly as she stepped closer to you.

“You’ll trip and hurt yourself. May even get an infection from the rusted nails…it’s part of my job description you know.” You said with a half smile, looking her in the eyes as she scoffed slightly.

“What’s in the job description? being a handy-woman?” Ada asked with a smile, her eyes locking with yours.

“No. A bodyguard. I’m hyper aware of my surroundings and therefore yours too. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need me.” You said taking your long black coat off revealing a gun on each side of your hips, the metal glinting in the soft warm light of the room.

“You’ve killed someone?” Ada asked nervously. Never knowing who or what could show up at her door.

“Mhmm. Some with my bare hands…others with these two. They’re my best friends aye?” You said patting the guns lightly as they were strapped in tight.

“May I ask why?” Ada inquired. Her heart racing a little as she watched Y/N sling the gun from the holster and check the bullets.

“One tried to hurt me. One got in my way. One was a hit, and one was just for fun.” You said shortly, not wanting to get into many of the details. Life hit you hard ever since you were young, but you hit back harder. Your father not shying away from teaching you the ropes when it came to defending yourself. Most of the women you knew couldn’t form their fist the right way to give a good punch. You mastered it at twelve.

“Did you go to France?” Ada asked, a lump forming in her throat as she remembered how broken her brothers were when they’d gotten home.

You smirked and shook your head no.

“I was elsewhere at the time. On a long vacation you could say.” You said, thinking about how you’d fled from your life in Europe as soon as tensions started to rise. It was the one thing your father told you before he got called to war. He told you to never get caught up in it. To go where you’re safe.

“You we’re running from something aye?” Ada said her eyes lowering as she realized she probably pried to much.

“I’m sorry I-“ Ada started to say before you cut her off.

“It’s fine love. I uh, moved out there I guess. Things were tense back home ya know?” You said trying to quickly sum up the conversation.

“Where’d you learn to…do what you do?” Ada asked sitting on the bed next to you, her hand going to yours without realizing it.

“I made a few acquaintances in the states. I helped out at a speakeasy in Chicago in turn for a bit of money and some self defense skills.” You said.

“I see.” Ada said, releasing your hand as she’d heard a loud banging on the door.

“You expecting anyone?” You asked, your hand going for your gun as you hesitated at the stairs.

“Not right now, no.” Ada said, following behind you as you snuck down. Trying to transfer your weight evenly among the rickety stairs, just barely avoiding the rusted nails.

When you reached for the door, you were quickly met with a cold stare coming from a rather average sized man. It seemed as if there was pain hidden in the bright blue waters of his eyes. That he’d seen what no one should have seen. Done things no one should have done. And you knew it all too well.

Your hand was already out, the barrel pointing harshly at his forehead as you heard Ada screaming behind you.

“Y/N no! No he’s fine. That’s my brother. I’m sorry. Let’s get back inside.” She said ushering you both in from the cold draft of the door.

“I see you have your new bodyguard aye?” He asked, a smirk forming on his lips. The man didn’t even flinch when you’d pressed the barrel to his skin.

“Yes…I’m Y/N nice to meet you…?” You said hesitantly. Ada neglected to mention her brothers name.

“Thomas Shelby. Ada’s brother. Nice gun.” He said, pointing to the silver chunk of metal in your hand that was still clenched tightly in preparation.

“Thank you.” You said, walking over to Ada as she embraced Karl. Linda came in from the kitchen earning a sigh from Thomas and an eye roll from Ada.

“Oi I say we get this over with. I have people to do and places to be!” Arthur said loudly from the front door, winking at Linda as he and the rest of the crew barged in at once.

You tensed up slightly as you heard their yelling. Ada not looking scared in the least.

“Aye, Y/N. Put the gun down. It’s alright.” Thomas said, slowly approaching you as you lowered it warily.

“Those are our brothers…Ada didn’t tell you?” He asked.

“No. Fucking christ Ada…” You said, putting your gun back as the once happy men stood frozen as you’d still had the gun out.

“Sorry.” She whispered, earning a slight chuckle from Thomas.

“Well before you shoot up all of London’s men, let’s get this meeting going.” Thomas said as Ada ushered everyone to the dining room.

“Everyone this is Y/N. Ada’s new bodyguard.” Thomas said, Arthur warily looking at you as you sat down next to Ada.

“I hope she likes being bored then. She’s a real snooze-fest that one.” Arthur said, nudging Ada in the shoulder as she slapped his arm.

“I don’t plan on it. But only time will tell aye?” You said, raising a glass of wine to your lips as you began your new and rather exciting job of protecting Ada.

[lildevyl]

Whumptober Day 5: Ransom Video

DSMP Superhero AU  Phoenix Rising

Summary:  “Are we live?  Yep, we are!  Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen of L’Manburg. You probably already know me and my brother but let me introduce myself.  I’m Nightmare.  But let’s actually move on to the star of the show!”

TW: Kidnapping, Ransom Video, Nonconsensual Drug Use

Part One Here

Part Three Here

Part Four Here

Nightmare takes the camera and strolls through the hallway and towards a door leading to the basement.  When Nightmare gets to the bottom of the stairs and turns the camera to the center.

“Aw! Doesn’t he look so cute!  Already trying to escape Tommy?  But we haven’t even started on why you’re here yet!”

It has been about a week since the sixteen year old Thomas Theseus Innes Watson has been reported missing.  Reports say that a man had come to pick up Thomas from school that was not his father or brothers.  However, since Thomas stated and showed that he knew the man the school allowed the man to take Thomas with him.  Since then no one has seen Thomas.  The last time anyone saw him was last Friday.  If you have any information please call the hotline.

The news drone on and on about some more boring stuff.  Oh, so they finally noticed that their little boy had gone missing?  Well, time to put the Superhero Family out of their misery.  Oh this was going to be fun!  Let’s what the Crow Father, the Blade and Ghostbur truly value.  Their so-called family that they kept on saying and repeating from time to time but had no problem in ignoring their own family?  Or the lives of faceless and nameless people that only see them as the heroes when they need a hero?

He went to the laptop and checked to make sure everything was ready.  The New Channel was still going on and it was live!  Perfect!  He then hit the button.

The screen went black and white and with nothing but TV Snow for a few minutes than it came back.  One side of the screen was the L’Manburg News Channel and the other side of the screen was the live footage that he presented.

“Are we live?  Yep, we are!”  He then took the camera that was broadcasting the event and turned to him.  The News Anchors covered their mouths when they saw who it was.

  “Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen of L’Manburg.  You probably already know who me and my brother are but let me introduce myself anyway.  I’m Nightmare.  But let’s actually move on to the actual star of the tonight’s show!”

Nightmare takes the camera and strolls through the hallway and towards a door leading to the basement.  Nightmare starts going down the wooden stairs and just starts monologuing the entire time.  About how easy it was to get the kid’s trust.  How easy it was to just lure him away.  How easy it was to just get him to trust him and his brother because of how lonely the kid was.  The kids' family were Superheroes though he made sure not to say what their names were and how they were so dedicated in saving so many lives but chose to ignore their youngest son.

When Nightmare made it to the bottom of the steps, he panned the camera to the “Star of the Show.”  Thomas Theseus Watson.  The kid had his arms free and was trying to get the ropes off his legs.

“Aw! Doesn’t he look so cute!  Already trying to escape Tommy?  But we haven’t even started on why you’re here yet!”

Tommy looked up and gave Nightmare his best intimidation of his brother’s the Blade, death glare.  “You fucking tricked me!  You said that we were friends!  I trusted you!  You - you took me to see your shop and everything!”

“Aw, don’t be like Tommy!  Of course we’re friends!”

“Bullshit!  Friends don’t kidnap them and shove in the basement for days on end!”

“Oh Tommy!  It isn’t like that!  Look, we both know how neglectful your so-called family are!  I just decided to show you how much they truly don’t care about you!”

“That’s not true!  They care about me!  They’re just - really busy is all!”

“Tommy, if that was true then you wouldn’t have summoned me.  You wouldn’t have summoned my brother.  We are attracted to those you call out to us.  Those who truly have a truly deep seeded wish that they want to come true.  You, Tommy, have truly called us.  I haven’t heard a call like that in so many centuries, it isn't funny!”

Tommy stilled at that.  It couldn’t be true!  No, he was just lying!  Trying to get under your skin!  “You’re lying!  I didn’t - I didn’t summon you!  You - you’re a fucking wrong’un is what you are!  Fucking godman dickhead that can’t get any women because you just go around kidnapping people!  What too afraid to face my family so you had to kidnap me?  Stalk me?!  What the absolute fuck!”

Nightmare just cracked a smile at this kid’s attempt at bravery.  He had to give it to the kid.  He had no fear in insulting his kidnapper like there was no tomorrow.

“Oh don’t worry, Tommy.  There’s an actual reason why I came down here.”  Tommy eye Nightmare.  He didn’t like where this was going.  “Oh, Tommy, you’re the Star of the Show!  We’re going to actually see what your family truly values.  Their youngest son/brother who’s got no powers and is completely human?  Or the lives of the faceless, nameless civilians of this city?”

“What are -what are - you going to do?”  Tommy stammered.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, Tommy.”  Nightmare came over to Tommy and put his hand in front of Tommy’s face.  He then let his Sleep Mist do its trick.  Tommy slumped in his chair, completely passed out.

The next thing that the News Channel saw, when the segment went live again was.  Tommy Watson passed out in a coffin, both Nightmare and Phantom were standing over Tommy.  Then they closed the lid and lowered the coffin with the boy still inside.  Then Phantom took his cane banged on the ground and the dirt covered the coffin evenly.

Phantom then looked back at the camera.  “You have a choice, Heroes.   You have one hour.  You either save the lives of the worthless faceless, nameless civilians that have no problem in turning on you at the drop of hat?  Or the life of your youngest?  The one that has no powers and will grow up to be another nameless, faceless civilian while the rest of you have all the fame and glory.   The L’Manburg Graveyard or the City Park.  One has the life of your youngest and will be dead in less than an hour when the air runs out.  Or the people in the park where we hid a bomb.

Your choice, Heroes.”

The screen went black as the camera was turned off.  No doubt everyone was panicking.  Oh, this will be fun.  What would the Hero Family choose?  Their youngest brother and son?  Or the lives of the civilians that they swore to protect and literally put them first above all else.

*******

Tagging: @weirdmixofweirdness, @ashedflower, @luna-moonblood, @luverofsupernatural, @tracobuttons, @10th-no-name-person, @10ths-writing-corner, @a-humble-narcissus, @isa-ghost, @septic-dr-schneep

[sanguine-tenshi]

I just finished Inazuma and I have words

TL;DR: Hate the story, mixed on characters, love the design and tired of being treated like a 4-year-old with a learning disability.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Let’s start with what I like.

Inazuma is absolutely beautiful. I’ll admit Inazuma hits a lot of aesthetic points for me. All the islands are different enough to feel unique but they still look like they are a part of the same land. There are a lot of secrets to discover through just exploring. Each island has a world quest to help it (make it less hostile towards you) so it very much feels like you are saving Inazuma from itself.

.

The puzzles are alright.

I like the cubes that rotate, I always put in the effort to figure them out properly.

Hate the ones that don’t rotate, they just aren’t engaging enough for me, so I just hit them at random and hope for the best.

The glowing floor tiles were fun, once you actually realized what they wanted you to do. A little bit too easy if I’m honest.

The electro compass isn’t really much of a puzzle, more of a fetch the nearest electrograna quest.

Those little pillars that require an electro connection are kinda boring to me, again not much of a puzzle, the hardest part is finding both pillars.

I love the new electro seelie, kinda hard to follow the jittery thing in certain parts but they make a nice contrast to the regular seelies.

.

I’m very much mixed on characters.

Yoimiya is adorable. She is so bright and bubbly. What little game play we had with her was fun and I love her over the top style of fighting. Kinda disappointed she’s another pyro archer but I do admit it fits her character well. It was also wonderful seeing her just settle down and be quiet, just be a part of that moment that obviously meant a lot to her. It’s always nice to see that bubbly, energetic character have that one quiet thing, ya know. Kinda funny it’s fireworks, of all things, for her.

Gorou I like, from what little we’ve seen of him. My man killed a dude with his thighs so I’m down. I do find it kinda ridiculous that a resistance general has his whole damn belly exposed. There is also something about his voice that just does not fit. I cannot for the life of me put my finger on what exactly it is. Could be the tone itself, could be just voice acting. It sort of feels like the VA is trying to sound deeper than he actually does.

Sangonomiya Kokomi, mixed. I like her design, she looks like some sort of mystical priestess. Again something about the voice is jarring. I expected her to sound sort of airy, like she isn’t 100% present, like she’s seeing something we can’t. TBH she reminds me of Luna from HP for some reason. 

Yae Miko, I was interested because of her design. She sounds very arrogant and up her own ass, which would have been fine...if she hadn’t given us that god-awful line. “...I have high hopes for you, child. Don’t disappoint me.” Dear lord I wanted to punt her off the mountain. Or fucking what! Also she’s some bigshot priestess of the Sacred Sakura and yet she can’t do her damn job properly. Why couldn’t her arrogant ass come down from her high perch and cleanse the stupid roots? Why did the traveler have to do that shit?

Baal looks dead inside. Booba sword is overrated, get a life. I want a remach! And no cutscene shenanigans this time!

Kujou Sara seems like one of those ‘honor above all else’ characters. Those are either hit or miss with me. You have my attention for now. Also what are those shoes woman?! I’d rather you wear those leg-killing, needle point stilettoes instead of those Wish gag shoes. How in the name of all that is holy can you run in those?!

Thoma, I like him. At first I thought we were gonna get another Childe incident, but Thoma is too much of a innocent puppy to pull anything that horrible. To me he fits a fox a lot better than Childe does. Childe is a dingo and I stand behind that.

Kamisato Ayaka...hate her. At first I was neutral on her. Nothing about her design really spoke to me, but I was willing to wait and see. But then miHoYo started to violently push her friendship at us. We are totally friends now, this is the first time you see my face, but we are so totally friends now. And during her story quest everyone was like “Ah, you are so good Ayaka. You are so nice Ayaka. You are so perfect Ayaka. We all love you so much Ayaka. And oh, how could a mere merchant like myself...” Ew, go away. This is the first time I’m actively not pulling on a character banner. Normally I pull even if I’m not particularly interested in a character, because you never know how good their gameplay is until you take them out in the map. But I think I’ll be skipping this one. No thanks.

.

And now, the worst part, the story.

We’ve been hearing about the situation in Inazuma for a long time. There has been also a lot of talk about how hard it is to get there. About the wall of thunderclouds that surround the islands. So to have it cut to black and then voila Inazuma, feel just so cheap.

I was expecting something. An animation. A struggle. A quest. A minigame. At least show us the horrible weather! Something! Anything!

Hell if they wanted to be assholes about it they could have made it so that if the player fails at this point the ship is damaged, you return to Liyue and have to wait until tomorrow for the ship to be repaired. No Inazuma for today. That sure as hell would have raised the stakes.

The next complaint I have is with Yurika, the 2 milion mora processing fee girl. Later on Thoma mentions that the agency people see the fees as easy money, so her attitude doesn’t make much sense. After all someone like her would want to extract as much money as she can, but you still want the people to be able to pay that.

So it would make more sense to me if she was overly friendly and asked way too many questions. She’d need to get a much information as she can and after all the previous hostility people would be very open with her. So she’d be able to quickly find out why someone is here, what they are selling and roughly how much money they’d be able to pay. A merchant selling expensive silk would have more many than a regular ore merchant. So she’d be able to extract as much money as she could.

“I know this is a lot of money, especially for something so simple, but there is nothing I can do about it. I’m so very sorry.” And people wouldn’t say anything bad to her because she’s the first friendly face they see in Inazuma.

The stealth mission was just god-awful and I hope we never have to do that nonsense again.

Getting off of Ritou was a bit janky at the end, Chisato should have had a better reason for coming along. But I’m honestly just glad we didn’t get out the usual way...getting stuffed in a crate and smuggled out.

As a side note, I’m getting really tired of characters overexplaining things to me, especially Paimon. Dear lord, not everything has to be said, you can leave me to come to my own conclusions and solutions. Just please, who cares if a few player struggle for a bit, you don’t have to hold my hand through the whole thing.

Ayaka’s three were...ugh. It was basic emotional manipulation. Oh no this guy forgot about the love of his life and he’s been waiting for decades. And oh how sad this guy was so good and he helped these people so much but now he can’t remember. And oh the tragedy this guy forgot his life goal and is now hunted by the demons of the past. Oh the humanity! 

And it did not work. Know why? Because I have no emotional investment in any of these people, in this land. What is happening to the vision bearers in Inazuma is tragic, true, but that doesn’t make me want to overthrow the government. I don’t live here. I just got here. I wanna ask a question or two and then move on. None of this concerns me.

I was so happy when the traveler just flat out refused to start a revolution. And then we had to go and meet some people and immediately I knew this was going to be some oh noes the tragedy moments and then we would agree to help them.

It’s so forced.

Wanna know what would have been better?

Just as we are leaving the Kamisato estate Thoma catches up with us. And he tells us he gets it. We are an outsider and this doesn’t concern us. He was hopeful but he expected the denial. We shouldn’t hold it against Ayaka.

He joins us as a guide because he knows of the people we have to meet.

And so as we help these three we also get to know Thoma. We find out he was an outsider too. He got in just before the worst of it started and then he was stuck in Inazuma. He lost someone to the Vision Hunt. They slowly lost their mind after loosing their vision, their ambition too closely tied to their personality to continue without it (what is happening to Domon hits a little too close to home and he has to walk away, this is where we hear the story of the one he lost). And the same would have happened to him if the Kamisatos hadn't taken him in. He owes them his vision, his sanity and his life.

So this rebellion is personal for him.

At the end of the three wishes the atmosphere is somber. We tell him we understand why Ayaka fights, why he fights. We know that this is all wrong, that it should be stopped...but not by us. We came here to get a lead on our brother. And rebellion isn’t an overnight affaire and we can’t loose so much time in Inazuma.

And yeah, he expected as much. He just asks that we let Ayaka down gently. It’d be a shame if someone as idealistic and hopeful as her lost their spark.

And so we are gentle but firm with Ayaka. She looks like she wants to argue with us but Thoma shakes his head at her. So she sighs and tells us that a promise is a promise. We should come to the Komore Teahouse in a few days and she’ll have a plan for us to meet with the Shogun.

Now we can still have a character story quest with Yoimiya and we can still somehow get involved with helping Master Masakatsu, but it’s through Yoimiya instead of Ayaka.

And instead of a character story quest with Ayaka we have one with Thoma. Hell, give him a whole damn hangout event even.

You can probably guess why I’m pushing the friendship with Thoma so much.

Because. He. Gets. Kidnapped. For. The. 100th. Vision. Ceremony. 

And that would have been the perfect emotional in to get us involved in the rebellion. After all we just saw what happens to people who have their visions taken away and we are not letting that happen to Thoma, someone we just got close to.

So Baal makes it personal for us as well.

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I have a few more minor complaints.

Aoi is stupid for asking for compensation after she tells us everything we needed to know because, ya know, we could have just walked away. We should have.

The whole stupid misunderstanding about the value Kurosawa’s sword holds. Kinda obvious he meant emotional value instead of monetary.

The suspicious amount of visionless NPCs and by that I mean this is the first time we have NPCs with vision. This wouldn’t have been a problem if we’ve seen NPCs with visions in Mond and Liyue.

The whole rebellion camp bit feels incredibly rushed. We just sort of lollygag over there and then there is a fight (against Sara and her stupid shoes).

Don’t make us fight Baal just to force us to lose. It would have been better if we were forced to retreat, because Thoma was injured, because there are too many soldiers for us to handle on our own. Hell, you can have a funny scene where we straight up jump off a cliff with Thoma clinging onto us and screaming bloody murder until he realizes we are slowly gliding away and he’s not about to plummet to his death.

The Sakura cleansing quest should have been voice acted.

The Mirror Maiden and Pyro Agent are totally on a date, I will not be told otherwise.

[heliads]

Into Thin Air

Newt doesn’t know what to think after Y/N disappears one night in the Scorch. She’s nowhere to be found, until a few weeks later she shows up with the girls from Group B. The only problem is that she can’t remember who Newt is, and all Newt can remember is how much he loves her.

masterlist

Newt sits alone, staring out at the desolate desert before him. He’s hidden from view, sheltered by a craggy outcropping, but the protection does little to settle the turmoil of thoughts lurking inside his head. The sound of footsteps approaches behind him, but Newt doesn’t have to turn his head to recognize his friend.

Minho stoops and sits down a few feet away. Newt glances at him. It’s strange- all of Newt’s memories of his life before the Maze have been stripped away, leaving behind only his time trapped within those walls. Minho is his best friend, but Newt can’t help but wonder if he had other friends, before all of this started. Before he was imprisoned in the Maze, before they escaped WICKED and stuck themselves in the desert. Did he have friends before that? Would it really matter if he did, anyway? If they’re not dead by now, they will be soon.

But he has Minho, and that’s enough. Minho’s been his friend for a long time. Newt hasn’t really known anyone for that long, or grown that close, except maybe Alby. Even the thought of the guy makes Newt’s throat burn. He’d known the guy forever, even been his second in command for all that time in the Maze. Newt can still picture Alby’s face in the back of his mind, that look of determination just before the Griever snatched him away. They’ve lost so many people. Alby, and Chuck, and Winston, and-

Newt can’t quite bring himself to finish the sentence.

Distantly, Newt realizes that Minho is still there, and staring out over the same horizon Newt had been studying a few minutes ago. At last, the other boy speaks. “We’re going to find her, you know? There’s no way we won’t.” Newt sighs. “We don’t know if she’s out there anymore. Or if she’s even somewhere we can find.” 

Minho shakes his head, resolute. “She has to be somewhere. They wouldn’t take her just to kill her when nobody is watching.” Newt opens his mouth to argue, but Minho holds up a hand and continues speaking. “WICKED had to have taken her. She would never have left any of us, and definitely not you. Besides, we went to sleep with her right next to us, and woke up to her gone. No footprints, no tracks, no nothing. If she had left on her own accord, we would have seen a trail leading away, but there was just blank sand. It’s like she never even existed. Does that sound like some girl who’s sick of us and wanted to leave, or like WICKED wanted to send a message?”

Newt’s heard Minho’s attempt to soothe his worries a couple of times now, but he still plays along. “What message would WICKED want to send instead of just taking all of us? If they have the ability to get her, what’s stopping them from completing the job and getting all of us back?” Minho jabs a finger in the air, ready to prove his point. “They want to scare us, make us think that WICKED’s way more powerful than we’ll ever be. If they pick us off one by one, they’re hoping that we’ll come back to them easily instead of them having to chase us down. Less damage to the subjects if they return of their own free will, right?”

Newt chuckles quietly. “If they were interested in keeping their subjects in the best condition they wouldn’t have put us through the bloody Maze in the first place. They would have stuck to inkblots and blood tests like any other reasonable doctor.” Minho grins. “Hey, who said they were reasonable? They just don’t want us killed off before they get the chance to do it themselves.”

In spite of himself, Newt feels a smile growing on his face. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop moping. Are we heading out soon?” Minho stands, clapping his friend on the back as he leaves the outcropping. “In a few minutes. Thomas thinks the Right Arm reinforcements should be in the mountains just a mile or so down. We’re almost there.”

The Right Arm. Thomas seems convinced that the people of the Right Arm can help them, and save the Gladers from inevitable deaths at the hands of WICKED. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense- use a shadowy, mysterious organization to escape another mysterious organization? At least the Right Arm isn’t known for running death tests on teenagers. That’s already a bonus.

The path to the mountains is dangerous, but to be honest, what part of their journey hasn’t been dangerous? Newt thinks it’s going fine, that although the terrain isn’t the best they’re at least making progress, and then the bullets start to ring out. Instantly, everyone panics and starts to hurtle toward whatever cover they can scrounge up in the desert, cowering as gunfire rains down around them. From the corner of his eye, Newt sees a couple of figures emerge from the mountains, faces hidden and weapons drawn.

Newt shoves Thomas and Minho to get their attention, and they start to come out with their hands drawn. Three figures stand before them, weapons pointed at them. Newt scans their faces, but he doesn’t recognize the first one, or the next. It’s only when his gaze falls upon the last of the three, on the figure standing farthest away, that he feels his heart freeze in his chest.

It’s not her. It couldn’t possibly be her. But yet-

Before he even knows what he’s doing, Newt is stepping away from the protective cover of the car, away from his friends, and towards the third figure. He can see Thomas and Minho extending their arms to pull him back, but they’re moving slowly, as if coming from far away. All that matters now is the girl before him, the girl with those all-too-familiar eyes that are now glaring at him in fear.

Newt’s voice comes cracked and quiet in the space at the foot of the mountains. “Y/N?” The girl levels her gun at him. “Who are you, and how do you know my name?” Newt stumbles, thrown by less by her threatening tone of voice and more the words that she’s just said. “Y/N? Why don’t you-” Hie voice breaks off into silence. Minho and Thomas are next to him now, and all Newt can do is stare at the girl in front of him. “Why doesn’t she know who I am?”

The other two figures are by Y/N’s side in an instant, the two pairs of three staring at each other. The tension builds and builds until finally the first of the figures glances away, at the other boy walking up to them. “Aris?” Suddenly, the hostility vanishes, and the figures are pulling away their face coverings to reveal the smiling faces of two girls. Aris turns back to them, clearly happy to see the girls. “This is Harriet and Sonya. They’re from Group B.” He addresses the Group B girls now: “They’re with me. They’re friends. They helped me escape from WICKED.”

Harriet and Sonya nod, but Newt just watches as the third girl hesitantly removes her own coverings. Sure enough, it’s Y/N. Harriet notices Newt’s stare and turns to his former friend. “Y/N, do you know these guys?” Y/N shakes her head. “I have no idea who they are, or how they know who I am.” Newt’s heart seems to drop in his chest. “What are you talking about? Y/N, I’ve known you for about a year, ever since you came into the Maze.”

Y/N’s eyes hold no recognition, no laughter, no light. She seems to have no idea who Newt is. “All I know is that I showed up one day alongside the Group B girls. They’ve been my family ever since.” She walks away, presumably to tell the people with guns to stand down. Newt is left alone with the words dying on his tongue: We were your family first.

Newt watches from a distance as his friends talk and laugh around him. They’re happy to have the Group B girls, who went through the Maze just like the Gladers did, and they’re relieved to have the protection of the Right Arm. Newt should be out there too, finally allowing himself to relax or at least have a good time, but he can’t quite muster up the energy to fake the smiles. Y/N doesn’t recognize him. That’s the only thing he has room to think about right now.

As if just thinking about the girl was a summoning, Newt turns to see a familiar figure walking away from the fire and coming to stand next to him. This picture, the two of them standing so close together, away from everyone else, is so painfully familiar that it hurts to know that she isn’t thinking of the connection they once shared. All Newt can think about is that he’s stood by her a hundred times, but all she can think about is that the boy next to her is a stranger, someone she’s never even seen before.

Y/N is the first to speak. “Is it true? Did you really- did you really know who I was?” Newt nods hollowly. “We first met when you arrived in the Maze. We were friends for a while, and-” He cuts himself off. He can’t talk about that, not right now. “And then we escaped, and you disappeared.” Y/N looks at the ground, at the fire, at her friends. Anywhere but him. “I have this strange feeling like I know who you are. Or I should, at least. But I can’t remember a single thing about you.” Newt stands silently, not trusting himself to speak.

Y/N turns to him at last, eyes burning into his own. He’s missed that look, that focus brushing across her brow. “Can you tell me what I was like? You know, in your Maze?” Newt sighs. “I’m not sure we could fit it into one night. You were there almost as long as I was, bordering on two years.” Y/N’s gaze is unrelenting. “Can you try?” Newt could never say no to her. Not in the Maze, and not now, when it’s just the two of them and he’s missed her so much. He clears his throat, and begins to speak.

“We were friends at first. Probably since the moment you showed up. You had this way of getting people to listen to you, even when the shanks were seconds away from tearing each other apart. There were only a few of us in the Maze, or at least at the beginning. You, me, Alby, and Minho. We were like a little family. I thought our friendship would last forever, and then other boys started showing up.”

Y/N frowns. “Did we fight or something?” Newt laughs ruefully. “No, we just- Well, I was kind of a shucking idiot myself. This one boy showed up, and he used to make me so angry. You’d be doing your job, not focusing on anything else, and then he’d come up and start talking to you. I didn’t know why it was bothering me so much, that he would be there for just a few seconds and the two of you would be laughing like you’d known each other all your lives, and then I realized after a while that it wasn’t him that annoyed me, it was that I was just jealous. Stupid, but jealous all along.”

“I kept it to myself, didn’t want to bother you. I didn’t realize you loved me until later.” Y/N looks up at him, mouth slightly tilted down into a frown. “But then what happened with you?” Newt smiles to himself. “I’d loved you all along. Don’t think I had much choice in the matter. Anyways, it took me a while to get up the courage, but I told you how I felt one night at the bonfire. I was nervous about it, but you just looked at me with this smile and I knew everything was going to be alright.”

Y/N’s smiling now. It’s strange, thinking of that night with this new Y/N next to him. She’s got the same expression on her face as the night Newt told her he loved her, and it cuts away at Newt that she could smile at him like that without remembering that night at all. Newt realizes he’s been staring too long, because Y/N gently nudges his arm. “Go on.” Newt looks away, fighting the shyness that suddenly overwhelmed him.

“We were happy, for a long time. We had months of uneventful life. Well, as uneventful as the Maze can be. Then Thomas and Teresa showed up, and the Maze doors didn’t close, and the Grievers attacked us all.” Newt’s eyes flicker shut as he remembers that night, remembering the tongues of flame spiraling over the buildings and the horrified looks of his friends. He can still hear the screaming, smell the coppery tang of blood like the scene was still being played out around him.

“We managed to escape. Not quite sure how. I don’t think I was scared for myself, more that you were going to die and I was going to have to live without you. When we first showed up at Janson’s building, I thought we were finally out and in the clear. We were so excited to have escaped and have a new life, one where we could actually relax and be just teenagers.” Newt’s voice twists into something bitter as he remembers how hopeful they’d been, and how quickly that hope had fallen apart, just like everything else that seemed to come their way.

“Then Janson turned out to be with WICKED, so we escaped. Took a while and a lot of running, but we made it out.” Newt falls silent, and Y/N tilts her head expectantly. “And then what?” Newt swallows unevenly, still feeling the pain and overwhelming heartache of that one specific night. “And then we were alone in the desert, all of us from the Glade who’d made it out plus Aris. We went down to sleep, late at night. You were right next to me. When I opened my eyes, you were gone.”

Newt looks away, fighting back the hot prick of tears threatening to appear at the corners of his eyes. “That was the worst part. You were right there, so close. There was no way you could have left without waking me. I knew you wouldn’t leave, so it had to be WICKED, but it still hurt. I was so worried that you’d died, or that they had dragged you back to their facilities and were experimenting on you-”

Newt can’t finish. Y/N nods, understanding. “And then you showed up to the mountains, and I had no idea who you were.” “Exactly.” Y/N sighs, leaning up against the rocky crag behind her. “I don’t know what to say. It all sounds familiar, but it just doesn’t sound like me. Are you sure that you’ve got the right girl?”

Newt nods. He’d know Y/N in a heartbeat, across the darkest night, anywhere. This girl is the one he loves, right down to that slight crease in her brow that she gets whenever she can’t figure something out. “I don’t know how to explain it. You are you, Y/N, and you’re the same girl I’ve been in love with since the Maze. You’re the same girl who always had a smile, even when things got dark, who yelled at the Builders but made friends with all the Greenies, who helped everyone survive the Maze because that’s just who you were.” Newt draws a ragged breath. “You’re the same Y/N who made me fall in love with you, and I’m not going to let any trick from WICKED convince me to let you go.”

Newt’s staring off into the darkness of the desert, but he turns with a start when he hears a slight noise from Y/N. He stares at her. She’s almost bent double in pain, hands clutching her head. He rushes over to her, helping her to the ground. “Y/N! Are you alright? What happened?” She just shakes her head, gritting her teeth through the pain. “I don’t know. You started talking, and I felt like I recognized something, and then my head started feeling like it was about to crack in two.”

She squeezes her eyes shut in agony, and her shoulders tense up in a spasm of anguish but then suddenly fall still. She lies on the ground, silent. Newt feels like his heart is in his throat. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” Her eyes open slowly, eyelashes fluttering in a dark frame around her eyes. She looks at him for a moment, then two, as if drinking in the sight of him. She reaches out a shaking hand to him, lightly touching his cheek. “Newt?” Her voice is quiet, as if she’s doubting herself, and then she breaks into a grin.

“Newt. Yes. I remember you.” All of Newt’s worries leave him in a rush, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. “Y/N?” She nods, laughing slightly. “I remember everything. The Maze, the Gladers, you, everything.” She pulls back, smiling, so she can look in his eyes. “I don’t remember the part about you being in love with me from the start. You should have told me that earlier.” Newt chuckles, helping her stand. “I was trying to help you get your memories back. I’m sure it was just a dramatized detail.”

She flashes him a beaming glare. “I’m sure it was.” Newt can’t take his eyes off of her. “I was so worried, you know that? I was so worried that you’d left.” Y/N shakes her head. “I could never leave you. Not in a million years.” Newt lets himself smile again, and reaches out to lock his hand around hers. Y/N remembers him. The girl he loves is finally back once more.

[thechangeling]

But you like her better: Part 1

This fic features Kit's potential new girlfriend hinted at in a letter from Tessa to Magnus in CC's newsletter. A bunch of people in the fandom built her from the ground up @littlx-songbxrd @foxglove-airmid @the-wckd-powers @adoravel-fenomeno and @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood to name a few, and gave her a personality, name and backround. Their name is Marí.

Kit uses he/they pronouns in this fic and Marí uses she/they.

Cw: Disassociation (or at least how I experience it idk it might not be the same for everyone), negative self talk, self injurious stims, and bad coping mechanisms.

Title is from Heather by Conan Gray.

Marìa. Marí as she preferred to be called, was a bubbly kind soul with a wide inviting smile and a melodic voice.

Even Ty could admit that they were quite beautiful, despite not seeing women (or in Marí's case anyone who was particularly alienated with womanhood,) in a romantic or sexual light. It took him awhile to realize he was gay, but when he did it just seemed so obvious. He had gone through a minor phase of experimentation at the scholomance when he was younger but it hadn't lasted long.

Still Marí was stunning. And perhaps what made her even more stunning was her kindness and generosity. Ty had met her on the beach in LA while she and her parents were visiting the LA institute for a downworlder/shadowhunter summit being held by Helen, Aline, Mark and Cristina, similar to the one Julian held in 2012.

Ty noticed that Tessa and Jem were present, but Kit was not. He was not exactly sure how that should make him feel. So Ty elected to push the pain in his chest further down. To shove all if his unresolved feelings and worries and questions about Kit Herondale back into the metaphorical box and move on.

So he had gone outside to walk on the beach to distract himself when he found Marí sitting on the sand and crying.

Apparently according to them, they had come across a few dead moon jellyfish, or Aurelia aurita as was more scientifically accurate, that had washed up on the beach.

Ty remembered being moved by how she had such compassion for another living creature who wasn't even a person. It was rare. Ty had helped her bury them. She seemed wary and a little hostile around him at first, noticing his runes. She was clutching her body tightly. Ty noticed her anxiety and told her how he was also a lover of aquatic life and he found marine biology fascinating. This had prompted her to instantly change demeanor and become very excited and start jumping up and down and waving her hands before she told him that she was studying marine biology at university in Devon.

The mention of Devon should gave promoted Ty to wonder if Marí knew Kit but he was still putting up mental blocks to protect himself from the Kit situation so it hadn't crossed Ty's mind.

They had sat on the beach and talked for hours. Marí told him their name and that they used she/they pronouns. They also told Ty that they were from Devon, but their family was from Loiza, a city on the Northeastern coast of Puerto Rico. And also that they were all werewolves who pretty much hated shadowhunters but he seemed ok because he liked jellyfish. They mentioned that marine biology was one of their special interests and that they were autistic and had ADHD.

It would have been the perfect opportunity to tell Marí about him also being autistic but Ty being guarded and asocial, decided not to and told her as little as possible. He supposed he had some trust issues after everything. He mentioned his name, that he was attending the scholomance, and a few basic facts about his family. He also talked about his friend Alyssa Reyes. 

Alyssa or Ali as he called her, was a werewolf with Maia's pack in New York. She was assigned as a liaison to the scholomance to act as a bridge between the werewolves and future centurions. And BOY had she complained about it. Alyssa was basically the president of the fuck shadowhunters club and she was autistic and had ADHD. She and Marí would have gotten along quite well.

Marí overall did most of the talking but she didn't seem to mind. On the contrary.

Ty had no idea that by that point they were already dating Kit.

When Kit returned with apologetic smiles and a new found charisma and confidence, he also brought her. And she was so happy to see Ty again that he felt so guilty for feeling torn up inside.

Ty couldn't hate Marí. Not even if he tried. They hadn't done anything wrong and neither had Kit. So Ty would just have to settle for hating himself for being angry over nothing.

Kit and Ty weren't really talking. Sure they had exchanged some words together when basically forced to, but Kit was being standoffish and Ty was still feeling a little annoyed. But mostly hurt. Ty had heard that Kit was using he/they pronouns and now identified as genderfluid. He had so many questions for Kit but Ty knew he couldn't ask. At least not right now.

Currently Ty was watching Kit and Marí talking. Kit was in the middle of telling her what looked to be a funny story based on the way she was laughing. Kit pushed a lock of dark curly hair back behind her ear and smiled.

Ty felt queasy. He bit his lip and averted his gaze trying to shake off the horrible feeling. Everytime he saw them together his chest felt like it was being squeezed by a juicer. Like he was being crushed and torn up on the inside and it was his fault. Just like it was his fault that Kit left. Or maybe that wasn't true. Maybe it was just inevitable but that didn't make it any easier.

Ty didn't have the right to be jealous or upset. He had no claim over Kit. He was being ridiculous he told himself as he attempted to shove all of these dark feelings into the box.

But this time it wasn't working.

"Alright you look like you're about to snap crackle and pop," Ty heard a voice say beside him. "What gives Sherlock?"

Ty looked up to see Alyssa Reyes standing next to him. When they had all congregated together in the LA institute and Kit had brought Marí and his friend Janessa back with them. Ty had decided to bring his lucky charm and close friend with him.

When Alyssa first came to the scholomance things were quite rough. But they had connected, first on the basis of being autistic and then through other things. Ali also had a love of mysteries and the two of them together were quite the team. The two of them had become incredibly close. Anush called her Irene because she was the only one who could outsmart Ty.

Speaking of Anush..

He was currently still back at the scholomance. They had both decided it was best for him to stay behind so they could spend some time apart. They had recently broken up after Ty finally realized he wasn't in a good place emotionally to date anyone. Ty had been forced to put Livvy's spirit to rest permanently when it started to have an affect on the mortal world negativity. It had been Livvy herself who had begged Ty to save the world at her expense.

That had been about a month ago and Ty was still relatively numb. He had a feeling it would begin to hurt eventually. Just not yet.

"Hey did you hear me?" Alyssa raised her voice. "What's wrong?" Ty refocused on his friend.

She was wearing her costume for the Halloween party they were all attending tonight. Kit, Ty, Dru, Alyssa, Marí, Jaime, Janessa and Thaís. It was Dru herself who had suggested they need a break from essentially preparing themselves for what was probably going to be another war. So they were headed to a vampire hosted party at a club in downtown LA. Alyssa had been sure to grab earplugs for Ty and herself which he was grateful for.

Alyssa was dressed as Aeryn Sun from Farscape, one of the many autistic coded characters from scifi that she was obsessed with. She was wearing a long black leather trench coat with black leather pants and a black tank top. Her dark brown hair was pulled back onto a long braid traveling down to her lower back. She even had leather boots and a fake blaster gun holstered at her thigh to complete the look.

And Ty of course, was dressed as Sherlock.

Ty shook his head at her. "Nothing Ali I'm fine."

Alyssa glowered at him. "Bullshit you're fine. I thought we agreed never to lie to each other?"

Ty sighed, gazing back at Kit and Marí, still smiling at each other. Alyssa followed his gaze.

"Oh you're jealous aren't you!" She declared matter of factly. Ty instantly shushed her.

"Oh relax they can't hear us, she muttered. We're too far away." She twirled her long braid and stimmed with the ends of it. "You know if you plan on taking your anger out on that lovely girl, a member of our COMMUNITY no less, who has done absolutely nothing wrong, then I'm like legally required to throw hands," she said with a smile.

Ty didn't smile back. "I wouldn't," he murmered, looking down. He had been flicking his fingers lazily at his sides, but now Ty found that wasn't good enough. He dug his fingernails into his right palm.

Alyssa looked concerned. "Hey I was just kidding," she said softly. She took his hand that had been creating little half-moon red divots on his skin and carefully threaded his fingers through her own.

Ali squeezed Ty's hand. "You know I'm on your side no matter what." He squeezed back.

Ty looked at the couple again. Emotions swirled all around his heart like little ribbons grazing against the sides. It wasn't just jealousy neccessary and Ty was a little shocked to find that he wasn't angry anymore. He was just...what?

Sad?

Sad didn't even begin to feel like it covered it. He felt so lost. And alone. And.... He felt himself starting to drift away, separating from himself. Ty could hear the fuzzy far away echo of someone trying to speak to him, but he couldn't make out the words. They were getting further and further away.

Everything was blurry and out of focus.

"Ty!" He heard a voice shout. With a jolt he was snapped back into his body. He turned to face Alyssa who was staring at him, looking obviously alarmed.

But the worst part was that everyone else was staring at him too. Including Kit. They looked  shocked, but also something else that Ty couldn't quite pinpoint. There was an air of desperation to their voice when they asked,

"Are you ok?"

Was Ty ok?

It was such a funny question coming from Kit who hadn't spoken more than two words to him this whole time.

Kit who had left.

Ty didn't know what else to do except laugh. He burst laughing hysterically, almost falling from his position of where he was leaning against the wall. He desperately tried to gasp for air as he cackled.

Everyone was staring at him looking horrified. Dru pulled out her phone as if she was contemplating calling someone, then decided against it. Tears were starting to roll down Ty's cheeks as he kept laughing.

Alyssa grabbed his arm. "Alright, come with me," she ordered, dragging him to the side. Ty managed to stop laughing as she guided him firmly into the training room.

Ty's eyes were still blurry with tears, so he wiped them away. Alyssa was smiling at him softly, looking sympathetic. "It's gonna be ok Ty,: she cooed, taking his hand again. Alyssa began to rub slow soothing circles onto his palm.

"Ok, you wanna tell me what's going on now?" She asked gently. Ty sniffed and used his other hand to wipe away the rest of his tears.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted. "I don't know how to describe or explain it.

Alyssa nodded. "Well, try. You can use quotes or song lyrics if you want." Ty smiled. He was grateful that Ali understood.

Ty chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. "It feels like a tear in my heart. Like a part of me is missing and I just can't feel it," he quoted. Alyssa stared at him, pondering. She continued to stroke his hand.

"Do you think what you're missing is Kit?" She asked. "Do you miss him?"

Ty glared at Alyssa and snatched his hand back. "No," he said firmly. "I don't."

Ali rolled her eyes. "Jesus you're almost as bad at love as I am! It's like trying to open a rusted toolbox with a fork getting you to open up!" She snapped.

Ty bared his teeth under closed lips and glowered at her. "Well maybe I never asked for your help!"

"Well maybe you should calm down and recognize that I'm your friend and I'm worried about you!" She shouted back.

Guilt instantly washed over him, pricking his skin. Ty squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry Ali," he whispered.

He wished he could cry. Now more than ever Ty wished he could make himself cry. Over Livvy, over Kit. Over the coming battle. Over everything.

"Do you love them?" He heard her ask. There was no need to ask who she meant.

Ty opened his eyes. This was the thing he never acknowledged. Never said outloud. Never even let himself think it. Because it was terrifying. The acknowledgement of the truth.

The truth was that Ty would probably give his life just to see that adorable smile one more time. That he could tell you how many freckles Kit had because he had spent so many hours staring at Kit and counting them.

The truth was that when Kit held him, he felt closer to anyone then he ever had in his entire life. Ty had sat outside of Kit's door for hours, days even when they had first arrived because he had felt something, even then. Something pulling at him from the other side of that door like a magnet. He told himself it was just curiosity. A scientific curiosity.

It was the only thing that could logically explain Ty's obsession. It wasn't serious. It wasn't-

"I love him," Ty admitted shakily, breaking the silence. Even Alyssa looked a little suprised.

"I'm in love with Kit."

Before Ali could respond, Ty sensed movement by the training room door which they had forgotten to close. Ty instantly whipped around to see who it was, wondering frantically if they had overheard what Ty had said.

Standing in the door frame wearing her Mortica Addams costume for the party, complete with a jet black long wig was Marí.

And the look on their face suggested to Ty that they had heard every word.

I will try and get part 2 up as soon as I can! It will be from Marí's perspective.

The song Ty quotes is Can you hold me by NF.

Tag list: @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies   @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @arangiajoan @queenlilith43 @adoravel-fenomeno

[thepeakygurl]

Well I'm here. I wanted to tell you what a sucker I'm for some good fluff Tommy Shelby fluff..

I had this idea at the back of my mind where the Tommy married the reader as a formality because Polly had been constantly nagging him to get Charles a mother.(Like after Grace dies). Now he makes it clear that he cannot give her "love" and she should not expect it but she should be a dutiful wife (I know, patriarchy) and take care of Charlie. Reader decides to give the marriage a try.. and thinks it's not always love that builds marriage. As long as Tommy keeps her safe, it's fine.. It's only when the reader gets pregnant with Tommy's kid, the way her body starts changing, Tommy's heart starts changing as well and he starts falling in love with her as her pregnancy progresses..

I'm sorry if this is too much. 🙊🥺

A/N: I’m so in love with this one, I really, really hope you like it!🥺 thank you for requesting this amazing piece✨ honestly this one gave me so much life that I could wrote a whole series out of it!

Another Day

Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,834

When Grace died, Thomas knew that a part of himself went with her. Part of his heart and his capacity of loving followed the woman who owned that same heart into the abyss of death. And he was fine with it, the only reasonable thing to do was to let his heart rest next to his beloved wife, that was alright with him.

Everyday that went by Thomas felt as his life were slowly drowning into a whirlwind of inconsolable sorrow. Nevertheless, he was trying his best for Charlie and he was darned proud of how such a sweet boy he happened to become. So mannered and so caring that sometimes he almost failed to believe he was his son, this was his only spiral of joy. Every time Ada would come around with Karl, Charlie wouldn’t help, but ask about his mommy and why him and daddy were always alone. And he was right, Thomas and Charlie were always going to be alone in a way, that thought was so dreadful and achingly painful that one morning he did what he had to do. Polly spent the last few weeks begging him to meet the daughter of this friends of hers, single and behaved, What more could you ask for? Polly would always end up saying. A question he would have promptly answer with Grace.

The first time he laid eyes on you, he couldn’t help but think how pretty you were. He was a man with pride, but he also had eyes and he would never say something that he doesn’t mean so he said it “You are a very beautiful woman” in a tone so cold and unemotional that made you laugh, clearly he was forced into this meeting as well. Marriage was the last thing in your list: Travel and study the art of painting that was your dream and see it being crushed by the economical need of your family almost crushed you a well. Being the respectful and obedient wife of Thomas Shelby was never part of your plan, but you weren’t selfish enough to say no and let your family sink in debt. And while Polly was taking your mom’s arm and pulling her aways from you two for some intimacy, you look at time a stare that he didn’t give back and said “Next time be more convincing.”

The wedding came soon enough, everyone on your side of the family was happy, excited and hopeful for the future that this union would bring. The Shelby’s on the other side, they weren’t allowed to celebrate as this wasn’t a marriage of love, but need. A small wedding, no reception. You never really thought about marriage, but somehow it made you sad how so careless this man was. How cruel he was to care so little about something that for you could have a meaning.

On the night of your wedding Thomas didn’t talking much, if anything at all. Some candles were lit on the side of the bed, they smelled nice you remember, but nothing could ease up the tension in that room. You in your night gown standing in front of him as he close the door behind him while he enters the room. His eyes locked in yours but it’s hard to tell whether he wants this or it’s just a duty. A step after another he finally was in front of you, so close that he could easily hear your heart racing on your chest. His hand slowly reached your cheek and he smiled a small imperceptible smile “Love is a tricky thing. From this night on I will respect you, protect you, but love...” he eyes were now somewhere else, they were still looking at you, but you could tell they were elsewhere. That was enough for you, or so you thought.

Time passed and the only thing that made those miserable day bearable was Charlie. You saw in him a lot of Thomas, but there was also a side of him that you didn’t quite get, probably from his mom. Grace a woman that was still an important presence in the house, in their life. Charlie would sometimes stare at the paint of him, Thomas and Grace and would point and her, asking where she is. You would then proceed to sit next to his and point at his chest close to where his heart his “She is here. She’s in here everyday, even if you don’t see her” you would say smiling at him. She was beautiful, so beautiful and so much loved that you would pity yourself, a resentment that caused you to be sickened by yourself, at some point in time you realised that you started to compete with the death and that feeling brought so much shame that you decided it was time to get back at your art. So you did, painting and looking after Charlie. When the Sun would disappear in order for the Moon to gloriously take its place, Thomas would come home, sometimes even later than that. He would kiss Charlie on the forehead, then he would smile at you. After all expectations, Thomas had no problem in engaging in a conversation with you, however he never talked to you as his wife, more like a newfound acquaintance and that again was alright with you.

Then one day you found out you were pregnant. You had all the signs, morning sickness, late period, body changing, but a part of you didn’t want it to be true. You were so afraid of bring to Earth a creature that was not made out of love that you took quite enough time to tell Thomas, the enough time it took you to start showing and made it impossible for you to hide it longer. Your heart was racing as fast as the horses that Thomas so much loved, when one night he grabbed you by your hand and pulled you closer to him, not a moment of love, but a need. And while a hand slowly caressed your arms, the other was finding his way under your night gown but stopped as soon as he felt your stomach. Surprised as it was he went from looking at your body to staring at your face, while you were nervously biting your lips “I’m pregnant” you said in a whisper. His hand fell down as soon as those words left your mouth and he quickly stepped back. He didn’t want another child, not like this, but he was not going to say it. In fact he didn’t say anything and went to bed.

Weeks after that Thomas didn’t touch you, or talked to you. He even barely looked at you. He felt as if he was betraying Grace, as this baby could bring an end to the connection he had with her. He wasn’t ready for any of that, but neither were you and so the hostility between you two grew. Charlie however was super excited to have a little brother or sister. Seeing his son so excited about the news made him think that maybe that was such a bad news, after all that’s what he wanted for the both of them, not being alone.

And the baby was growing, strong as ever. Polly and Ada started to come visit more and you liked that, that made you feel less alone.

“Don’t worry he will come along someday” Polly would always say to you and you would always smile repeating yourself that you didn’t need his love, that this was a marriage without love, but now with this baby inside you, you couldn’t help but thinking if he was ever going to love your baby.

Thomas was now at home more often “I do not have so many employees for nothing now eh?” He would say every time you would wake up in the morning and see him already on his feet preparing Charlie for the day. The truth was that Thomas knew you had trouble sleeping since the baby, he woke up sometimes during the night to see you walking around the room while moaning in pain. He knew how stressful it could be to not having enough sleep, carrying a baby and providing for another one, so he decided to stick around for a while. Seeing your daily routine, how you would play with Charlie, sit in front of the painting of hi late mom, telling him those kind word and seeing you meticulously give time to your own passion, that did something to him. Perhaps it was just time what he needed, perhaps love was something that he could feel again, because now every time he looked at you, he felt alive again.

“What now? Are you going to do the laundry as well?” You jokingly said while you were having breakfast.

He looked and you and chuckled “No, I pay other people to do that. But you are more than welcome to do it yourself, it’s money that I can save” and as he saw you rolling your eyes in response he smiled “I got you something” he said talking a little bag under the table and placing it in front of you.

You almost gasped in surprise, Thomas Shelby caring to waste a bit of his time to buy you something? Not even your birthday made him turn around like that. You were almost scolding yourself out loud for how much you were smiling at that gesture. You carefully opening the bag to reveal a pair of white baby shoes, the most precious thing he could ever get you. Thomas looked at you with the same big smile that was on your lips and he hold your hand, he didn’t say much after, but your hand on his meant something for the both of you.

You gave birth to the most beautiful and precious baby girl. Polly and Ada were at tears when they first saw her and you could tell to have seen even Arthur shredding some tears and being scolded by John. You even shredded some tears. The love that you thought you couldn’t get and that you were never going to experience, it was all there in this tiny little girl. Charlie was absolutely in love with her, so much that it was hard to convince him that he was to big to sleep in the crib with her. You were looking at your baby girl, sleeping peacefully and there it was, the most beautiful piece of art you ever made. While this thought slid through your mind, Thomas wrapped his arms around your waste in a hug from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and he smiled looking at his daughter “So darned beautiful” he whispered while looking at her, he was completely astonished and happy, so darned happy. “You both are” he then said holding you a bit tighter than before and this time, you believed him.

[canon-transgender-virgil]

Check In (Intrulogical)

A/N: Finished this fic relatively quickly! It's a lot shorter than the Roceit one I posted earlier this week but it's still kinda a long fic lol!

Summary: Directly following the events of WTIT, Remus pops into Logan's room for what he claims is a quick chat, but that quickly grows into something more when the two actually get to talking.

Content Warnings: innuendos, swearing, intrusive thoughts, implied NS/FW (but nothing happens, dw), hurt-comfort

Logan had taken shelter in his room the moment Thomas got home from his outing with Nico. The logical side couldn’t stand to be around the other sides at the moment and he needed to sort out what was going on in his head.

The spectacled side took a deep breath and sat at his desk, staring at the wooden tabletop before slamming his fist down on it. “Fuck!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, infinitely thankful for the magic soundproofing around everyone’s rooms. What would the others think if they heard the rational, level headed (yeah right) Logic yelling expletives at random in his room?

He straightened his tie and glasses and got up, summoning a straw dummy labeled “Thomas”. He stood in front of it and glared at the doll, visibly angry, before he began ranting to it. He talked and talked, yelling at the dummy about how angry he was at being constantly ignored and pushed aside and made fun of, and if the familiar 10 notes announcing a certain Creativity’s presence hadn’t gotten his attention, he would have continued.

“My my Logan, you’ve got so much to say and no one to say it to, huh!” The moustached side raised an eyebrow, smirking at the nerd.

“...what do you want, Remus.” Logan’s words were curt, like he was trying to say just little enough to make the Dark Side leave.

“Gosh, I can’t just talk to a friend?-”

“We are not friends.”

“Ouch!” Remus pretended to be injured. “You’re so prickly, like a kinda sexy cactus! What’s up your ass today?”

Logan stopped and consulted his flashcards, hearing Remus snicker at this and trying to ignore the fact that his face was burning slightly. “Um… Ah.” He found the card he was looking for and examined it a little. “Nothing is ‘up my ass’ today, Remus. You know full well why I’m upset.”

“Uh huh, cuz I called you out on your lying ass.” He sounded irritatingly proud of that fact.

“Yes, well, you got what you wanted. Are you just here to rub it in my face?” Logan stared at Remus, though he noticeably avoided direct eye contact with the gremlin of a side.

Remus frowned. “No, actually.”

“Then you’re here to make me… feel… worse, correct?”

“Nope!” The green-sashed monster grinned.

“Then what do you possibly hope to gain from this interaction?” The blue tied Side frowned. Remus wasn’t here to bug him, or to upset him further? What reason, then, did he have to come to Logan’s room?

“It’s like I said earlier, I wanted to talk to you!”

“...what about?”

Remus shrugged. “I dunno! What do you wanna talk about?”

Logan blinked. “...excuse me?”

“Yeah! Let’s hear what you wanna talk about!” The Duke sat down on Logan’s bed and grinned up at him.

“...” The teacher was silent. “...you’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Remus blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I-?”

“Yes, I figured as much. Remus, I don’t have time for your games and if you’re simply going to make fun of me you can just-”

“Woah! Pump the brakes Lo, who said I was making fun of you?” The green side looked legitimately confused.

Logan crossed his arms. “Remus, statistically speaking, a total of… Zero sides share any of my interests. A total of three sides have shown aversion to or have mocked the things I consider interesting or enj- er, have a vague liking towards. Why should I believe you aren’t here to add to the latter set of data?”

“First of all, because I sat through that whole talk.” Remus joked. Seeing that Logan just rolled his eyes, he continued. “And secondly, because we also have some of the same interests! Your census of mockery only includes J-Anus, Emo Boy, Hop-Pop Patton and my dumbass brother!”

“Really? Then what are some of those shared interests, oh Duke of Imaginary Death?”

“That was terrible, one.” Remus held up his pointer finger. “And two, we both like chemistry, and poisoning, and astronomy-”

“Wait wait wait.” Logan held a hand up to silence Remus for a moment. “You… like astronomy?”

“Sure! What’s more existentially terrifying than imagining going hurtling right into the sun, or a black hole, or-” Remus’s eyes widened as he talked about the possibilities.

“Thank you, Remus.” Logic sighed. “But… why talk with… me?”

“Cuz… I kinda owe it to you? After being a dickhead all day?”

Logan blinked. “You didn’t have a phallus for a head today?-”

“Figure of speech, teach.” Remus explained curtly.

Logan ‘ah’d’ and nodded.

“And anyways… I wanted to apologize.”

That caused Logan to stop. “...you… wanted to apologize… to me?”

“Yeah, it’s weird for me too, but it’s true! I didn’t mean to make you so mad you - figuratively - blew up, I just wanted to prove a point.”

“I appreciate your use of the word figuratively Remus, and… thank you.”

“No problem!” Remus grinned and thought for a second. “So… wanna talk about forensics?”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Do I ever!-” He stopped. “Ah, uh, I mean… If you’d like to…?”

Remus giggled. “Cute! But you don’t have to hide that, not around me at least!”

“...thank you…” Logan smiled softly and the duke’s heart just about stopped.

“Uh, um… no problem Nerdy Wolverine.” Remus smiled weakly at the cute nerd.

The logical side rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Remus’s shoulder, which brought the moustached side’s attention to just how touch starved he was - a problem for another day, Mus.

“So what d'ya wanna talk about? Black lights, true crime?”

“Both interesting conversations, but… how about another topic you mentioned earlier?” Logan sounded timid, like he was scared Remus would stop listening if he dared to change the subject.

“Oh? What’d you have in mind?” The intrusive thot tilted his head at a sickening 180 degree angle, but that didn’t seem to bother Logan.

“You mentioned being fascinated by astrology as well. Would you like to talk about that?”

“Of course I would, my nerdy Astro-Boy Toy~” Remus laughed at his own nickname, to which Logan rolled his eyes again. “What about space, starlight?”

Logan’s smile grew ever so slightly, thankfully drawing Remus’s attention to that as opposed to his pink cheeks. “Well… let’s talk about constellations. You’re a storyteller of sorts, what’s your favorite constellation origin story?”

“Ooh, how fun!” Remus grinned. “Well, I personally love the story of Aquila, the king who got turned into a golden eagle messenger thing because Zeus got jealous of how much people liked him! You know, he’s the one who brought Zeus his cupbearer, Ganymede? That’s where the Aquarius constellation comes from! He was some Trojan prince, he ended up being the god of homosexual love! Historians think his name was a euphemism, since it’s a combination of the Greek words for ‘gladdening’ and ‘genitals’!”

Logan nodded and watched Remus explain the stories, smiling at how enthusiastically Remus shared the information. Remus noticed this and stopped. “Well, how ‘bout you, teach?”

“Huh?” Logan blinked, being pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Remus’s voice.

“You wanted to talk about constellations! What’s your favorite story?”

“Oh, um… I enjoy the story of Orion, the hunter who killed so many innocent creatures that Gaea sent a large scorpion to kill him and then put both of them in the stars for all eternity.”

“Huh! So that Scorpio constellation…?”

“Yes, that’s its origin story as well.” Logan smiled.

“Funny! I would never have guessed it!” That wasn’t true. Remus knew each and every constellation origin story like the back of his palm. He loved Greek mythology, but the only thing he loved more than that was seeing how Logan’s face lit up when he got to explain it. “Any other stories?”

The teacher blinked and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, um… I also enjoy the Cassiopeia story…”

The duke’s face brightened, eagerly awaiting Logan’s explanation. The spectacled astronomer’s face turned pink when he realized this, not sure what to do with this sort of attention.

“Well, Cassiopeia was a queen in Ancient Greece and she claimed to be the most beautiful thing in creation, which Posideon took personally since he had made what he considered to be the most beautiful creatures, and those were the sea nymphs. So Posideon sent Cetus, this giant sea monster, to torment the town, and he told the citizens that if they wanted him to get rid of the monster, Cassiopeia would have to apologize. She didn’t, so they asked if they could do anything else, and Posideon said if they sacrificed Cassiopeia’s daughter Andromeda to him that Cetus would go away, so the townspeople kidnapped her and brought her down to the pier. Poseidon didn’t like that, of course, since he was really just trying to get Cassiopeia to apologize and didn’t want some poor mortal’s blood on his hands so he let Perseus save her and kill Cetus.

“As punishment for almost letting her daughter die to save her own pride and for insulting the gods, they put her in the sky upside down on a chair to humiliate her for the rest of time.” Logan had gotten pretty excited while he explained the story, grinning widely as he finally finished it.

Remus was silent the entire time, watching how happily Logan told him a story he’d heard a million times before and thinking about how nice it was to be able to hear it from the nerd’s perspective.

Logan, finally remembering Remus was there, coughed softly and adjusted his tie, his smile fading. “Um, apologies, Remus. Thank you for letting me ramble.”

“Lo, you were telling a story! That’d be really dickish for someone to just cut you off during a story, you know?”

“I know, but I still appreciate it.” Logan yawned and Remus realized he looked tired, like the story had exhausted him.

“You wanna take a nap, teach?” The duke frowned and tilted his head.

“I… I have to finish up my work for the day…” The logical side moved his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“...Lo?”

“Yes…?”

“You had a long day. Yes it was cuz I was being a bitch, but still, you need to get some sleep. Or, y’know, I’m gonna be even more of a bitch to deal with!” Threatening intrusive thoughts usually worked to get Janus to go to bed when he refused to sleep, so he figured he’d try the technique out on Logan.

The nerd however simply shook his head and laughed softly. “I don’t think so, Remus. I can… I can handle you…”

“You couldn’t today, could you?” Remus accidentally blurted out before immediately covering his mouth. “Oh my god I didn’t mean that-”

“It’s fine, Remus.” Logan stated, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right. I couldn’t handle you today. But I really do have to finish working on this-”

“I’ll stay with you if you go to bed!” The duke once again blurted out. “Cuz I don’t think you’d wanna stay alone with Orange so close by, y’know? I can stay and like, fend him off!”

Logic blinked at the proposition and squinted. “...you… want to stay with me? Why are you so adamant about me getting proper sleep?”

“Well one, cuz it’s already 10:30 at night, and two, cuz… you know, I don’t wanna end up actually hurting you!”

That further surprised Logan. “You don’t want to end up hurting me? I was under the impression that that’s something you enjoyed.”

“Well…” Remus was hesitant to explain - that tipped Logan into the fact that it was probably something more than that.

“What’s really going on Remus?” The stern side crossed his arms and stared at the Creativity.

“...okay, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!” The duke stomped his foot and crossed his arms, looking away. “My nightmares have been getting worse and Janus is hanging out with Roman and Patton today and Virgil hates my guts so I figured I’d at least try to hang out with the one side that for some reason still tolerates my dumb ass!” He sounded a little hurt, and added, “Or, one that wouldn’t immediately kick me out or hit me with a broom at the mere sight of me.”

Logan blinked. “Nightmares? You suffer from nightmares?”

Remus sighed and tugged on his sash. “Yeah, they suck ass - not in a fun way - but it’s part of the job description, y’know?”

“I don’t. But… does this mean you also suffer from intrusive thoughts?”

“...yeah… They’re kinda the reason I came in here in the first place...”

The logical side sighed. “Remus, you could have told me sooner you just needed company. I’m not the best at keeping up conversation but I could have at least put on a movie for you to refocus on something other than your intrusive thoughts.”

The duke blinked. “You… you’re not gonna just kick me out?”

“Why would I? You’re in need of assistance and I’m going to provide it for you.” Logan got up and rummaged through his DVD stack. “What would you like to watch?”

Remus stretched and looked over. “Whatever ya want, Sub-astute but Super Cute Teacher.”

Both sides flushed red when they realized what Remus had said.

“...interesting nickname, Remus.” Logan gulped, looking down.

“Yeah, uh…” The duke laughed weakly. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the plastic bag it was choking in, huh?”

“What, that you think I’m cute?” The teacher looked over at the moustached Creativity. “You already called me sexy.”

“Well yeah, but that felt less… sappy, than calling you cute. And anyways, I meant that I was into you. Ooh, do you have Coraline?”

Logan stopped. “...repeat that, please?”

“The Coraline thing?-”

“The thing before the Coraline request.”

“Oh yeah, I like you.” Remus was right to the point, like always. “When I saw you take the shuriken to the face and just keep on moving right along… God, that was an image!” The duke gripped his thigh and shook his head, stopping himself from reaching down his pants.

“And you’re telling me this now… why?” The teacher was still reeling from the initial confession.

“We don’t get to talk one-on-one a lot! Plus, I don’t really like talking about cutesy emotions - that’s Roman’s department, y’know?”

Logan nodded slowly.

“Anyways, I changed my mind on the movie, can you put on Monster House?”

The spectacled side nodded and got the CD for Monster House, putting it in the DVD player and sitting next to the green-sashed side. He should have figured Remus wouldn’t be the type to linger on his feelings, and he was grateful for that at least. He couldn’t handle talking about feelings for long periods, especially not his own, but to have one of the most passionate sides just drop the fact that they liked him and immediately move on from that fact? It was odd. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Remus meanwhile was laying on the bed and watching the movie intently, smiling brightly at the screen before realizing that Logan had gotten into bed next to him. He turned over a little and growled “seductively” at the teacher, who laughed softly at the dark creativity. The sound caused butterflies to erupt in the duke’s stomach, flustering him a little. He smiled back at the logical side before returning his attention to the movie.

Logan meanwhile admired Remus, watching as he talked excitedly about the movie. He found it strangely endearing, how excitable Remus got when he was able to talk about things he found interesting. He didn’t have much time to think about it though, as he found himself falling asleep soon after the thought passed through his head. The astronerd yawned and passed out, sleeping peacefully next to the intrusive side.

The duke didn’t notice until he felt warm arms wrap around him. It startled the hell out of him, but he relaxed after he realized it was simply the sleeping teacher clinging to him. He carefully took Logan’s glasses off and turned off the TV before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

**The next morning**

Logan woke up first the following morning, still a little tired but feeling much better than he did the previous night. Vision blurry, the blind scholar felt around his nightstand for his glasses before realizing he was curled up into another person. He quickly got his specs on and saw the sleeping form of Remus below him, remembering that Remus had asked to stay with him the night before.

He looked at the sleeping creativity, who looked much more peaceful (and admittedly much cuter) asleep than he ever did awake. Still feeling somewhat tired, the Sherlock kinnie looked away and closed his eyes, feeling his face start to burn. When did he start thinking of Remus as “cute”?

Logan didn’t have too much time to dwell on it as he heard Remus start to stir. “Ugh… morning starshine…”

The teacher jumped and sighed. “Oh, good morning Remus. Did you sleep well?”

“Like an asphyxiated baby… you?” Remus groaned and stretched, waking up a bit more.

“I slept well too.” Logan fidgeted with his hands. The dark creativity, sensing the spectacled nerd’s unease, sat up and went to get off the bed. He was somewhat shocked to feel Logan tug on his sleeve. “Stay. I wanted to talk about what you said to me last night.”

“Oh… that.” Remus sighed and sat back on the bed. “What about it?”

“I… I’m not entirely sure what it feels like, but I think I reciprocate your feelings?”

Remus’s expression changed from slight concern to a poorly hidden malicious grin. “Oh? You’re into me?”

“I… think I am.” Logan nodded slightly.

The duke was silent for a moment before bursting into a grating cackle. “Oh- oh my god! Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me nerd!”

The scholarly side tensed up and blinked. “Excuse me?-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! What kind of goddamn loser are you, to think I - or anyone really - would like you?! Especially after the bullshit you pulled yesterday, like Jesus Christ you’re pathetic!”

Logan’s heart sank as he heard Remus say this. “So you were, what, mocking me?!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” The intrusive side cackled once again before morphing into a huge octopus-human hybrid monster and grabbing the teacher. “You’re so fucking stupid! What on Earth made you think someone like me would like someone like you?! You’re lucky any of the others even talk to you anymore!”

Logan panicked as the tentacles pulled him up to Remus’s razor sharp teeth, about to chomp down on his head, when-

“Lo! Logan, wake up!” The logical side heard Remus’s voice coming from somewhere it should not have been, and Logan woke up with a start. Remus frowned as the teacher practically flung himself away from him.

“Get away from me!” Logan’s voice sounded frantic and panicked, like a cornered animal.

“Woah, woah!” The creativity held his hands up in surrender. “Teach, it’s me!”

The teacher took a few deep breaths and grounded himself, looking around. “...right, right… Apologies, Remus…”

“No problem, Nerdy Wolverine. Now, care to tell me what happened?”

Logan sighed and moved over to Remus, explaining to him his nightmare, tentatively telling the nightmare inducing side that he’d tried professing his mutual love to the other before getting horrendously mocked and belittled.

“Sounds a lot like my Nightmare Nico scenario. Has this happened before?” Remus had managed to ignore his thundering heartbeat and the cheering going on in his head - Logan likes me back!! He could focus on that later. Right now, Logan needed his help.

“No. I don’t normally dream, period, so to get a nightmare is extremely unprecedented.”

“Huh… so, I’m the reason you had the nightmare?”

“That would be the logical conclusion, though I had assumed that your effects would be… muffled, in my room?”

“Maybe it’s a mix of psychological and my effect on you guys? Like you were stressed or anxious about last night so my ability to give people nightmares got amplified?”

Logan nodded. “Interesting hypothesis, and it’s… definitely possible. I apologize for yelling at you earlier.”

Remus shrugged. “Eh, it’s okay, I’ve heard worse.”

The nerd nodded and the two were silent for a moment before Remus sighed and asked what they were both thinking. “So. I like you, and you… apparently like me back? What does that make us?”

Logan hesitated. “I… I’m not sure. What would you like us to be?”

The duke grinned. “How about boyfriends?”

The scholar smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

Remus beamed brighter and moved a bit before stopping. “Can I kiss you?”

Once again mildly surprised by the other’s bluntness, Logan nodded and scooted closer to the dark creativity. Remus quickly pulled the former into a kiss.

Logan was the first to pull away, flushed red and smiling to himself. “I think I could get used to this.”

Remus grinned and took the scholar’s hand. “Me too, Lo. Me too.”

[hallowed-be-thy-username]

Clothing Is Custom, No Labels

“No matches on prints, DNA, dental. Clothing is custom, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives and lint. No name, no other alias.”

Summary: You’re one of the last bespoke tailors in town, making suits and custom clothing for Gotham’s elite. Business men and women, well known lawyers, the Wayne family, and… the Joker?

Genre: Self-insert, porn with plot, longfic

Pairing: Ledger!Joker x fem reader

Warnings: angst!, threats, intimidation

Word count: 4,334

Author’s note: Oh my god, ok, I was stricken with a particularly persistent case of writer's block but I'm finally back! Here we are with part thirteen!! It took me SO long, as you can see 🙈, but I'm super excited for this chapter (even though I say that about every chapter, it's true!) and I'm sorry it isn't a bit longer! But we've got loads of plot development and dialogue, I hope you enjoy it! This one's smut free for now, but don't worry, it'll be back very soon 🔥

Please read the warning above and do not interact with this story if you are a minor! Comments and reblogs always appreciated ❤️

Musical Inspiration: Something In The Way by Nirvana

- Part Thirteen -

Sleep should have been the last thing on your mind as you followed Joker out into the warehouse, but your fatigue was starting to grow stronger than your anxiety by now. You actually had no idea what time it was, but it was late enough that exhaustion was beginning to set in behind your eyes. Or was that just from the wild range of emotions you’d experienced in only one day?

You worked on taking steady breaths while you carefully stepped behind him and watched the bottom of his coat sway around his calves to keep yourself from looking at the handful of men standing nearby. Because they were looking at you, you didn’t need to lift your gaze to know that.

Embarrassment heated your cheeks when you arrived at a table with a few folding chairs around it and looked across the table to lock eyes with the man who’d guarded the office door earlier. He stared back for only a second before averting his eyes and rounding the table to pull a chair out for you, making your face burn even hotter. It almost felt as though you were being treated like one of those posh wives that often accompanied many of your wealthy clients, so superior and self-important. The contrast was ironic, funny really. Instead of a ritzy downtown Gotham restaurant, you were in an abandoned warehouse covered in graffiti. And in place of an affluent husband dressed in a pristine suit, you sat next to the Joker, his distinctive purple coat falling open across his lap as he leaned back in his chair, showing where he’d missed a button on his green vest.

The comparison made your throat go dry and you almost choked when you swallowed against it. You had to get out of your own head if you wanted to get through whatever was about to happen without humiliating yourself further.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Joker’s voice snapped you to attention and not a moment after his statement, a man with black hair slicked back against his head and a pointed nose was lead into the room. Your stomach dropped when you noticed what he was wearing. Black tie, white shirt, navy jacket with silver buttons and a shiny police badge over the left pocket.

The heat drained from your face and all of a sudden you felt compelled to run but you couldn’t move. Instead, you stayed firmly planted in your seat, failing to hide the terror in your face while they sat the man down in a chair across from Joker.

He sighed and licked his lips, lacing his fingers together to rest across his stomach before finally speaking. “What kept you so long, Thomas?”

You noticed the man was trembling slightly and starting to sweat, raising the feeling of dread into your throat before he answered, “I-I got news, boss.”

The cold sinking feeling that had fallen over you suddenly dissolved. You were preparing yourself for what he was about to do to this unfortunate police officer, but it seemed that things were more than they appeared, as you’d learned they often are with him.

“Do you? Well then, do tell,” Joker replied in a mocking tone, looking down at the knife from his pocket he’d begun to toy with.

The man, whose name was apparently Thomas, fought hard to swallow before speaking again. “Dent saw the name a-and started askin’ questions. He was gonna shoot me but the Batman-”

Joker’s eyes flashed up from the knife and Thomas froze in place. His mention of Batman instantly raised the tension level in the room, and you found yourself gripping the seat of your chair.

Keeping the knife in his hand, he leaned over the table and growled, “But the Batman wha-t?”

Thomas forced shaky breaths in and out through his nose, keeping his eyes on Joker’s with his jaw clenched tightly. “He… he stopped ‘im,” he managed to utter without his teeth chattering.

“My hero,” Joker answered derisively before leaning back into his seat.

You let the breath you’d been holding out from between your lips while the man in uniform, his forehead now beaded with sweat, blinked and tried to catch his own breath. Joker must enjoy the power he held over people. Inducing so much fear and anxiety by just looking at them. Your heart fluttered when you thought about the thrill it gave you. It was like you’d had been trained to feel more than fear. He stirred up such a complex arousal within you that was hard to explain, even to yourself. Was it because he made you tremble with pleasure and not with pain?

Then your thoughts were interrupted when Joker spoke again, “Now is there more to this little story of yours, Schiff, or have you wasted my very precious time?”

He kept his dull gaze on Thomas, blinking at him, seemingly bored by the whole situation while the man struggled to speak again, his pursed lips quivering. After his tongue slipped out of this mouth to lick the forked scar on his lip, Joker shifted to stand up and Thomas flinched before blurting out, “He’s turnin’ himself in!”

Joker whipped his head back around to stare at the now visibly shaking man with a new fire in his eyes and you stiffened in your chair. There was that thrill again. Your stomach churned a little as a new thought entered your mind. Yes, he enjoyed the power he held over people, and so did you. The way people would freeze, and their eyes widened. The menace that surrounded him came from so much more than a purple suit and smeared greasepaint. He was becoming some obscure figure or representation of fear. His name had been uttered by almost every citizen in Gotham, spoken with an undertone like it left a bitter taste on their tongues, and it wasn’t even his real name. But to the city of Gotham, it was his real name.

“T-…Tomorrow,” Thomas managed to stammer as Joker’s shadow cast over his face.

He approached him and leaned in close, his towering frame hunched forward at his waist. “Wanted to save the, uh, head-line for last, did ya?”

Thomas’s face grew paler, and he vigorously shook his head as Joker licked his lips with a loud smack before continuing, “My time is precious, Schiff, and it’s a terrible thing to waste.”

You took quick breaths in and out through your nose, the air almost burning the back of your throat, like gasoline. It was him. His scent reached your mind and turned your thoughts to how it felt to have him close, as if the smell of him was enough to absorb you. The shirt. Your eyes glanced down at the blue diamond patterned button-up that covered your body and goosebumps suddenly tickled your skin.

“Now. Before any more of it slips away, why don’t you go with these nice gentlemen so they can collect some de-tails from ya, hm?” he said with faux repose before patting Schiff on the cheek.

Two men that you hadn’t noticed approach made you flinch when they appeared behind the man before each took hold of one of his arms to stand him up from the chair. His gaze finally broke away from Joker’s face to scan over the men, making a soft sound, like a whimper, as they silently escorted him out through the side door.

It slammed and you felt like you’d just been dropped into your chair from where you’d been floating somewhere above it, blinking your eyes as if to clear fog from your vision. The warmth of arousal swiftly faded and the uneasy feeling of eyes on you began to crawl up your back. The room was eerily quiet now and you couldn’t seem to dare yourself to move, you just stared ahead into the darkness on the other end of the warehouse.

Then you nearly jumped out of your chair and gasped when you felt hands rest on your shoulders. “What’s the matter, doll face? Afraid of cops, hm?”

So much for getting out of your own head. Your face heated up once again and you fought against the cascade of nervous impulses trying to take you over before turning your head to see Joker’s gloved hand on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered relentlessly, as if trying to flee from your chest every time you saw him.

“Mm well, no need to worry. Thomasover there works for me.”

It was strange, the contrast between the way he spoke to that man and how he spoke to you. It was hard not to read into it. Part of you knew it was because he wanted something from you, but you couldn’t stop the little rising feeling that maybe you meant something to him. Why would you want that from a man like him? Had you been corrupted that much? The whole thing was enough to make your head spin all over again. But you took a deep breath before your thoughts could consume you and finally lifted your gaze to look at him.

He gazed back at you with heavy eyelids and your heart rose up into your throat, your lips parting as you blinked at him. This was all on purpose. Giving them a show, bringing you out here wearing one of his shirts, making sure they could see you. It should have made you upset, the way he paraded you around, but it made you feel something else. Tingles traveled up your neck and through your burning cheeks as a sense of gratification bloomed in your chest. You were his and he wanted them to know that. Maybe you wanted them to know it too. You wanted them to know that you were his… that you’d slept with Gotham’s most dangerous man.

A small smile appeared on your face, the air carrying the smell of greasepaint and burnt matches as the corner of his mouth stretched into a smirk. Still no sign of the bottom of this rabbit hole.

_______________

The deep darkness of a dreamless sleep lifted as your eyes slowly opened, blinking at the unfamiliar surroundings where you found yourself waking. This wasn’t your bedroom. Your mind, still somewhat shrouded by sleep, tried to make sense of where you might be instead before jolting you awake, and it all came back to you. It’d only been one night, but it felt like so many more.

You weren’t sure exactly when you’d fallen asleep. But you remembered following him back to his office, there were some passing remarks to the men in the room, you thought maybe then you sat down on the bed, but your exhaustion obscured any more details. What time was it?

Raising your arms over your head, you stretched beneath the blanket that had been placed over top of you and took a deep breath of the cool air. After rubbing your eyes, you heard a small sound coming from the little bathroom in the back of the office. Your breath caught in your throat and a flutter of anxiety came over you when you realized you weren’t alone. Holding still, you listened carefully and heard the sound of water running. It must be him, who else would it be? That maddening flutter grew stronger along with the familiar rise of heat in your face. Was that ever going to stop?

Swallowing against the tightness in your throat, you quietly pulled the blanket away and swung your legs over the side of the mattress, your bare feet making contact with the concrete floor. Once your weight settled onto your tip-toes, you carefully took silent steps toward the bathroom. As you approached the doorway, the sound of running water was accompanied by a metallic clink and a low hum.

You cursed your nerves for being so on edge, it was becoming embarrassing at this point. So, in an attempt to boldly ignore your meek apprehension, you took a breath and stepped into the doorway.

The warmth in your cheeks increased ten-fold as your eyes scanned the sight in front of you. Leaning over the sink while a steamy flow of water ran from the tap, Joker’s reflection in the mirror glanced at you without turning around. He was bringing a straight razor to his face, carefully gliding it along his jawline before rinsing it under the tap and bringing it back to take another row of shaving cream. He was wearing the same thin thank top with only traces of greasepaint left around his ears.

“Mmm well, there she is. A regular sleeping beauty, aren’tcha, doll?” he said, his eyes returning to his own face in the mirror.

Make that twenty-fold. You huffed a breath as you tried to come up with a response, too stunned by something so seemingly ordinary. Sure, you’d seen men shave before, but this was different. It was strange to see him move with such precision, so careful with his hands, running the sharp blade around the rough edges of his scars with ease. His penchant for chaos came with a certain finesse, an accuracy that he made appear so effortless. Perhaps you’d been staring too long.

“Now that you’ve rejoined the, uh, land of the living, we have some work to do.”

You blinked and tore your gaze away from the mirror, trying to look anywhere else before it finally landed on the tile floor. “Um… what kind of work?”

He chuckled and you could feel him looking at you in the mirror again when he answered, “The kind that requires some subtlety, a little nuance that no one else here can measure up to.”

Your eyes lifted from the floor after you thought for a moment about what he said and you asked, “No one else but me?”

“You catch on quick, baby doll,” he replied, clicking his tongue as he swiped away the last bit of shaving cream from his face. Then he set the razor on the edge of the sink and turned around, looking you up and down as he closed the gap between you. “It’s your time to shineonce again.”

That feeling had begun to fill your chest. That strange sense of pride tangled up with your willingness to do more, your desire to please. You didn’t seem to be in control of it, that was something you gave up days ago, but you could see it blurring the line between what was right and what was wrong even further. Soon you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

He stopped in front of you, keeping your gaze locked with his as you felt the ghost of his breath on your skin. The more he looked at you like that, the stronger that feeling was becoming. He knew it too, didn’t he? He knew that you belonged to him by now and you had no wish to put a stop to it, even after everything you’d seen.

“What do you want me to do?”

A small smirk appeared on his face and he answered in a low voice, “That’s what I like to hear, doll.”

The heat that had been rising in your body came to a sudden halt when he then turned to pass you through the doorway, leaving you taking slow breaths to regain what little composure you could manage.

“This one’s simple,” he called over his shoulder from his desk. “All you gotta do is blend in. Be a fly on the wall, so to speak.”

Were you ever going to be able to keep your mind out of the gutter whenever he got close? Probably not. But you could try to hide it. After letting out one more breath, you turned to follow him into the office where he’d sat at his desk with the small hand held mirror you’d seen before, dipping his fingers into a jar of white paint before starting to smear it across his face.

“Blend in where?”

He chuckled, scooping more paint out cover his jaw line. Then without looking up from the mirror he answered, “Check the suitcase by the bed.”

A tattered leather suitcase beside the bed quickly caught your eye. You weren’t sure if he’d ever answered any of your questions directly before and it seemed that was unlikely to change soon, so you tentatively followed his instruction. It wasn’t heavy when you picked it up to place it on the bed. Then after clicking the latches open, you shifted your gaze toward the desk. He’d moved on to smudging black around his eyes, still not turning to look at you. Those insidious butterflies in your stomach made themselves known and in an attempt to shoo them away, you hurriedly lifted the lid on the leather case.

Not sure what you were expecting to see in the first place, you blinked for a moment at the articles of clothing folded neatly inside before reaching in to pick them up. On top was a black pencil skirt, just the right length for the hem to lay above your knees, and beneath it was a deep purple cardigan with opalescent buttons down the front. The purple knit fabric matched that of his coat almost exactly. Heat returned to your cheeks then your eye caught sight of a pair of black heels in the bottom of the case.

“Can’t have you going out in that, hm?”

Your heart leapt into its familiar place in your throat as you looked down at his shirt you were still wearing, goosebumps crawling up your back before you turned around and nearly ran into him. He’d finished with the bright smear of red on his mouth and was now standing over you, the look in his eyes drawing even more warmth to the surface of your skin.

His fingers slid down your wrist before he took your hand in his, turning your palm upwards as his eyes remained locked with yours, your breath now a shallow huff. After reaching into his pocket, you felt him place something in your hand.

Holding back the excitement climbing up behind your tongue, you forced your eyes down. It was some kind of ID card. In bold letters along the bottom, it read “PRESS” and in the corner, you saw an image of yourself. Your eyes widened when you recognized it as the photo from your driver’s license.

Your eyes darting back up to his face, you asked, “What’s this?”

He raised an eyebrow and replied, “What does it look like?”

“How did you get my license photo?”

A chuckle vibrated in his throat and he turned away from you to go back to his desk where he took something from one of the drawers.

“Always so many questions, doll. But never the right ones.”

_______________

It was hard to keep yourself from fidgeting with the hem of the skirt. It was actually very well made and fit you like a glove, but your nerves were getting the best of you once again. You sat in the backseat of an SUV with tinted windows where Joker had just slid in next to you moments ago.

The brightness of the morning sun was only partially lessened by the darkened glass, it’s beams still nearly blinding where it peeked out from between buildings. Lifting your hand to shield your eyes, the other clutching the ID card, you squinted out the window to try to discern where you here headed. He’d left you to get cleaned up and dressed then took you straight to this car outside where a driver was waiting, not a word exchanged between anyone. He said this would be simple, but you couldn’t keep your stomach from tying into a tense knot while you worried over what you were expected to do.

“Ok, doll. Like I said, this one’s simple.”

His timing couldn’t have been better. You turned away from the window to see him reach into his coat pocket, retrieving something small that he held between his fingertips.

“With this, you can be my eyes and ears,” he said, holding it out.

It was a little black earpiece, small enough to fit comfortably in your ear. When you lifted your eyes, about to ask what it was for, you stopped before the words could exit your lips. He’d shifted closer to you and reached out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. The leather of his glove brushed against your cheek, rendering it scorching as he placed the small device in your ear.

“You are now an esteemed member of the press and today you’ve scored the opportunity to report on the biggest story sweeping the city…” he grinned, taking the ID from your hand and clipping it to your sweater. “The Batman is turning himself in.”

Next thing you knew, the car pulled up to the curb then the man sitting in the front seat reached behind him and pushed your door open. The cool air rushed over your face and you whipped back around, mouth open but no questions left to ask.

“Your time to shine, baby girl.”

Your feet carried you toward the tall building in front of you, its ground floor lined with windows while your chest shuddered against the quick breaths you forced in and out of it. You hadn’t been given much instruction, but you knew standing around on the sidewalk looking confused wasn’t what you should be doing. Scanning the entrance in search of where you should be going, you noticed a small crowd entering the door on the far end of the building and turned toward it.

“Bingo. You’re gettin’ good at this, doll.”

His voice suddenly rumbling in your ear sent a rush down your back and you almost stopped in your tracks, but you pressed forward as warmth filled your face, trying to keep your expression calm and unassuming. You had to resist looking behind you to look for the car you knew he must be watching you from.

After taking a quick glance around you to make sure you were still alone, you swallowed and asked quietly, “Can you hear me?”

He answered with a low chuckle and said, “Mm loud and clear, sweetheart.”

Great, how were you supposed to stay composed when it felt like he was following right behind you? But the door was getting closer, and you didn’t have much time to ask questions. Now you could see inside where news cameras were all pointed in the same direction.

“Are you gonna tell me what to do?”

“Eyes and ears, doll. Your big story awaits.”

He probably heard the frustrated sigh you couldn’t hold back as you pulled the glass door open to follow the crowd, his giggle tickling in your ear.

The large conference room was packed with people sitting in rows in front of a small stage where a podium was set up, more standing along the walls and backed all the way up to the door. You quietly squeezed behind the group just inside the entrance and made your way toward the last spot against the wall, eyeing the handful of police officers to your right. As if your nerves weren’t weighing heavy enough on you, now there were cops here?

You looked down at the press badge clipped to your sweater and tried to relax. Just blend in, they weren’t there for you. Staring at the podium rigged with a handful of microphones across the room, his words echoed in your head, the Batman is tuning himself in.

Then the crowd gradually fell silent when flashes and the clicking of cameras followed a man with a head of sandy blonde hair as he stepped up to the podium. You recognized his face from his campaign ads right away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I’ve called this press conference for two reasons. Firstly, to ensure the citizens of Gotham that everything that can be done over the Joker killings is being done.” Harvey Dent continued to speak over contentions from the crowd and said, “Secondly, because the Batman has offered to turn himself in. But first, let’s consider the situation. Should we give in to this terrorist’s demands?”

You couldn’t understand the rest over Joker’s burst of laughter in your ear. You quickly covered it with your hand to smother the sound before he held his giggles back and said, “Me? A Terrorist? Oh Harvey, you’re gonna make me blush.”

The crowd continued the argue against him until Harvey made a promise. “The Batman will have to answer to the laws he’s broken but to us, not to this mad man.”

A mad man. You supposed that wasn’t untrue. You’d seen enough to know that. But it still somehow didn’t feel true to you. Like it was what people said because they felt threatened by him. They were frightened and faced with a particular unease, unable to explain what it was. It gripped them and wouldn’t let them look away. You felt it too. But it didn’t scare you away, it only drew you closer, didn’t it?

Before you fell further into your thoughts, agitated demands for the Batman to turn himself in echoed through the room as Dent’s speech failed to bring any sense of righteousness to the crowd of cops and reporters.

“So be it. Take the Batman into custody.”

Everyone fell silent, waiting for the vigilante to step forward. Was that really about to happen? But Harvey waited only a moment before he stated to the crowd, “I am the Batman.”

Disbelief settled over the room, everyone watching as a few officers approached him to put him in handcuffs and swiftly lead him off of the stage. Then the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as a deep chuckle resounded in your ear.

“Ahhh, well there you have it. Now Harvey wants to play.”

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