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nelkcats · 2 years ago

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Hood Assistant

Prompt Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Next Ao3

Part 4

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Hate is born from fear, and rebellion from curiosity, so what is love born from?

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Jonathan Crane wasn't always a clinically insane villain, or that's what he tells himself inside his cell; he was a brilliant scientist, and everything was going perfectly until the conflict of morality entered his practices.

It was just a couple of people, there are millions of them. Crane saw no problem in subjecting his own co-workers to his new invention "fear gas" and it was a success! for a few minutes at least; and then he was accused of so many absurd things that he can't be bothered to try to remember.

The worst part was not that, but the thousands of eyes that always watched him from the window, reddish eyes judging the center of his soul, those damn feathered creatures that mocked him, since he was a child he could remember the flying rats circling around him, he hated them!

Always there, always watching, judging, judging, judging, yelling loudly, laughing at him, Crane had had enough; even when "Scarecrow" was born he tried to drive them away, that was the whole purpose of the damn body protection, the research suit of him, but even during his last fight with batman they were there. The "Robins" themselves caused him dislike because they alluded to those flying monsters.

Finally he could get rid of them, he had decided to share his research to the world by testing it on humans in the past, when he still cared about general opinion; That was apparently disapproved, however if he got rid of the airborne pests it should be better right?

"I am a genius!" Crane exclaimed between laughs as he walked through the desolate streets of Crime Alley, his escape was not difficult at all, there were as many corrupt guards in Arkham as there were in the police, only one of his men got the job and before anyone knew it he was free.

He had made up his mind, if he could combine his research and get rid of those flying beasts it would all be worth it, literally two birds with one stone! a little infection in the legs of one of them and not even Batman could stop him.

"I have to get close to those things, though," Scarecrow muttered in disgust, watching the crows watching him from the telephone wires, "I suppose sacrifices must be made for human progress."

From the top of a telephone tower, a light-eyed crow watched the villain curiously, flapping its wings and following him through the streets. It was normal since he wasn't an adult yet so most things made him curious, a few days ago he had followed a bright red helmet and he fed him, he assumed it would be the same situation.

"Sacrifice, sacrifice," the crow exclaimed, echoing Crane's words, albeit in a slightly broken way.

"That's right, sacrifices" although he was reluctant to agree, Scarecrow nodded "now where was my safe house? I had one around here"

With easy steps, not caring too much about the fact that he was a fugitive at the time, Crane headed toward a mostly abandoned apartment complex, he recalled setting up a safe house on the spot.

"Here it is!"

—-------

"Ugh, Cujo turn off the alarm," Danny muttered, tiredly rolling over on his bed, and trying to put a pillow over his ears.

Failing to accomplish his task, he gave up and removed the pillow, getting up and trying to open his eyes to focus on his surroundings. Even though it was mostly dark in his room, ghost powers were quite useful when it came to night vision.

"Johnny what the hell are you doing here?" The half questioned seeing not only Cujo sleeping next to him but also a blond ghost glowing like a radioactive pit in the middle of his room. He wondered if he was watching him sleep but ended up dismissing the thought, Johnny would get bored doing that.

"I came to notify you and this is how you pay me?" the ghost asked, offended, he'd hung up on his late night call with Kitty and all.

"Notify me what?" The doubtful boy questioned as he petted the ghost dog, which instead of waking up just rolled to the side reluctantly "and how did Cujo not wake up with all that noise? Did you set an alarm?"

"No, it's all over the city" Johnny sighed, although he didn't need sleep he liked to "Something about a place called Arc Ham, an escape, I didn't quite understand what they were talking about"

"Uh, I don't know what they mean either" the halfa frowned and checked his phone, it was 4:42 in the morning and he had an unread message.

Early Meeting - Jason

Johnny moved closer to read because privacy in the apartment was apparently optional, or so Danny thought wearily.

"Oh, he wants to see you early? More time for you to fantasize about your life together and your future cat" the blond scoffed.

"Shut up Johnny, I still have to ask Hood about his relationship, I'm not breaking up a couple" Danny said resignedly, he really needed to confirm that.

Deciding that it wasn't really possible for him to go back to sleep he stretched and yawned, maybe it would be a good start to his day early.

"Let's go have breakfast, it's going to be 5 o'clock anyway and I don't think we'll sleep with all that noise" he commented leaving his room and going to the living room of the apartment, to be part of an abandoned building in one of the worst places from the city it was quite spacious; Of course, both Technus and Danny made some improvements, avoiding touching the strange room in the back.

"Sure Hun, I could use some ecto" the ghost followed him, letting the pup sleep for a bit longer.

When they turned on the kitchen lights, something began to knock on the door. It seemed that they were trying to open it, the ghost and the halfa looked at each other doubtfully.

"Sacrifice, sacrifice!" The voice of a crow was heard outside.

—----------

"What do you mean Scarecrow escaped from Arkham, Replacement?" Jason questioned with annoyance as he walked through his apartment, a couple of hours ago he had finished his rounds on Crime Alley and it turns out that he couldn't sleep because he had a crazy person on his streets.

"Yes, he is in your territory so we decided not to interfere until we told you first" Tim said, his relationship with his older brother was strained at best.

"Don't you dare invade, I'll take care of him." Jason frowned, he didn't need the whole gang in his house.

"It'd be safer if we could go now, Little Wing-" Dick tried to reason.

"No, I'll take care of him" Jason stated again.

"Fine, but let us know if you need backup" Dick sighed, there was no reasoning with his little brother when he was like that, he was too stubborn.

"It's too early anyway, he's probably hiding, Crane is dramatic enough to wait until dark." Jason sighed reluctantly, waving goodbye and disconnecting the communications.

"It's better if I gather the gang earlier, don't you think, beautiful?" He questioned bending down and stroking Dog's head affectionately, although at first he was going to leave the pitbull at a shelter, he had grown fond of her.

Deciding that this was the best course of action he sent a message to all the "Hoodlins" or whatever they decided to call themselves that week for an earlier meeting. It was better to coordinate a delivery of gas masks in the community, for any mishap. Just in case Crane decided to go even crazier than usual.

"At least they didn't ask about the helmet" he hummed uncertainly, technically there was nothing wrong, but after a confrontation with a gang and some baseball bats it ended up being dented, his communications were pretty affected.

He could quickly repair it in the Batcave but he refused to set foot in the place before the weekly meeting Alfred forced them to attend. He decided to check it out in the afternoon, he was pretending to be just "Jason" and could claim that the Hood was looking for Crane, which wasn't a lie.

In the worst case he would call Babs to alert the bats if he ran into Scarecrow while he was camouflaging himself as a "civilian", he hated being rescued but it was unlikely to happen.

He couldn't be that unlucky, right?

—-------

"Uh, I wonder if it's the owners calling," Danny muttered under his breath as the door kept swinging.

Deciding to ignore the strange phenomenon for now (what could happen to them? They were already dead) he passed a container of ecto to Johnny while he poured himself a coffee, with radioactive green foam of course.

"Didn't food used to come alive when you did that?" questioned the ghost looking at the coffee uncertainly, he had fought alive hot dogs before and didn't find it a fun experience.

"Not in such small quantities, my parents had a full fridge; it's like comparing putting a drop of acid in water with putting a drop of water in acid" the halfa commented nonchalantly, all of his ectoplasm was arranged to isolate itself from food and being properly protected, the radiation was basically nil.

"Right." Johnny internally wondered if no one had called child protection or OSHA, but looking at the boy who was literally a foot from the grave he figured it was too late.

The ghost decided that it was better to change the subject before going into an existential crisis about his friend/ex/roommate with little sense of survival and unsafe home, Danny was not a Fenton anymore after all. Luckily he remembered an important question that Kitty had asked him earlier.

"Hey Danny, if you didn't have money to pay for an apartment when you got here, how did you get this place?" Johnny questioned curiously as the thought came to his mind again, he remembered the halfa complaining about it, and Kitty was curious too.

Danny didn't answer and just looked away, which made the blonde suspicious.

"Danny?" he asked again

"Maybe there was an empty apartment in good condition and I just...occupied it" the halfa replied, drinking his coffee and trying to get out of the conversation.

"DID YOU STEAL AN APARTMENT?" The ghost exclaimed in surprise.

"Well, it's not stealing if no one is claiming it" the boy defended himself.

"Weren't you supposed to be the hero?" Johnny questioned in dismay.

"No, I'm retired," Danny shrugged.

Johnny looked at the boy again, trying to connect the current image with the teenage hero he remembered, guessing he had simply slipped more to the gray side of things.

Was it his fault? He questioned himself for a few seconds before remembering all the boy's influences in his life and denying, no, Danny definitely had worse examples.

"Actually there is a room that we decided not to check for that reason, it felt weird" commented the halfa looking at the end of the corridor "Technus said it was creepy and I left it alone"

"Aren't you curious what can scare even a ghost?" The blond asked, now he wanted to explore the room.

"No Johnny, leave the place alone" Danny dismissed the comment.

"Oh come on, you can't just say there's a secret and unexplored room and forbid it" the ghost frowned, maybe he was getting carried away by the same influence of rebellion that had led him to die but he didn't care.

"I'm literally Schrödinger's cat, I don't want to be the cat that dies of curiosity too, the next thing we know I'll grow cat ears" the halfa denied, what works, works.

"Coward" the blond frowned annoyed.

"Fine, you can search the room but it will be at your own risk, okay? You have to face the consequences if something happens" Danny resigned himself to letting Johnny discover whatever was in there, he didn't care so much but maybe it would be nice to know .

"Cool!" The ghost lit up like a Christmas tree and floated to the mysterious door, opening it.

The room was quite strange, it looked like a study full of chemicals and various things, there were multiple glass bottles bubbling and had formulas on the walls; the final result, if the annotations could be trusted, it looked like some kind of spray, the ghost approached the container with curiosity. It was obvious that the place hadn't been used in a while, but someone had left a job unfinished.

"Uh, it looks like some kind of gas, I think this was a mad scientist's house" Johnny commented uncertainly as he sprayed some gas, it didn't seem to do anything, but to be fair he didn't really need to breathe, and there was no way it would affect his skin if it wasn't meant for ectoplasm.

"A gas?" Danny peeked down the hall, seeing the chem lab Johnny was in, he supposed it was ironic moving from a house with a lab in the basement to an apartment with a lab down the hall.

"Yeah, there's a trap door here, so there must be more, maybe even a basement" the ghost commented curiously, it was obvious what he planned to explore next "the gas doesn't do anything though"

"It's probably meant for humans, you don't breathe so it doesn't affect you" the halfa theorized more than determined to get away from the lab if Johnny was spraying dangerous substances all over the place.

"I guess" The ghost agreed, he was about to open the hatch when he heard the front door give way; he left the laboratory alarmed and closed the door, he could see the place when someone was not invading his temporary haunt.

"Sacrifice, sacrifice!" was heard again.

—-------

"Damn, the door is locked" after twenty minutes of pushing the apartment door Scarecrow was starting to get annoyed, he knew the place was old but this was just ridiculous.

To top it off, the number of crows that were watching him had increased, what was the point of the disguise if they were going to follow him like lost ducklings?

"Get out, get out, get out" he tried to push them away, it probably looked ridiculous, considering that the little annoyances flapped their wings and came closer, he could see in their eyes how they were judging him again, it was frustrating.

"Get out, get out, get out" the crows repeated together.

Crane's anger was building, were the damn birds kicking him out? He couldn't believe the nerve of the things, he really needed to get rid of them as soon as possible. If only the bloody door would give way.

"Shut up!" He exclaimed in annoyance, although he knew that wouldn't work.

"Shut up, shut up" repeated the crows with joy, they really were very intelligent.

Deciding to ignore the creatures he turned his attention to the door again; after all his attempts the damn thing had opened and he could access his safe house.

"Finally!" Scarecrow smiled, he just needed a few minutes in his lab and everything would be solved.

—----------

Shadow wasn't very forthcoming, unlike most concept-born ghosts who expressed their opinions freely, they preferred hiding; They could understand that most of their acquaintances had thought they were just part of Johnny and honestly they didn't care. Because as stupid as it sounds bad luck marveled at love, and he learned the most important thing: to spend your existence learning by your Soulmate's side, protecting and caring for them was worth it.

And maybe it was true, that nothing and no one was immune to falling in love, platonic or romantic; and as is well known, everyone does stupid things for love.

So, you can understand why as soon as Shadow felt danger near their haunt, they decided to check the surroundings; Johnny would probably wake up soon but it was more important to ensure the safety of his light. Their obsession might not be protection like the halfa's, but they were going to vanish before leaving the blond unprotected against an unknown threat.

They found it curious to see a man in a strange costume on the streets. At first they thought it was a ghost but they couldn't feel any ectoplasm inside him. Curiously, they hid within the nearby shadows. It was probably for that reason that the strange term attracted many crows, it was said that they were the symbol of bad luck and they honestly liked them.

"Sacrifice, sacrifice" sang one of the younger crows approaching, Shadow couldn't help but get out of the shadows and approach the little thing, instead of moving away the crow flew towards them and snuggled into their arms, or what was supposed to be their arms.

The disguised stranger continued to walk away, the crows that had surrounded them at the beginning seemed to take more interest in the disguise and decided to follow him. That was probably better, the human was talking to himself, which could teach the birds more, after all Shadow preferred not to talk at all.

Seeing that there was no more danger, they decided to go back to their haunt companions, the weird guy followed by crows didn't seem like a threat so they could go back to Johnny and make sure the surroundings were safe again. With the goal in mind they walked away with the raven in their arms.

—------------

"Shadow?" questioned Johnny curiously seeing his partner at the door, his thoughts about the strange lab almost forgotten, "what do you have there?"

"Sacrifice! Sacrifice!" exclaimed the crow in the ghost's arms, flying around the apartment.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no more pets in this apartment" Danny immediately shook his head upon seeing the little bird singing "much less sadistic pets"

"The only pet we have here is Cujo" Johnny claimed, offended.

Danny decided not to mention that taking care of both Johnny and Shadow was equivalent to taking care of two more pets, because they required almost the same as Cujo: food and attention. Well, more Johnny, Shadow was pretty quiet and didn't demand anything.

"Uhu, we're not adopting a crow." Danny rolled his eyes at the pleading eyes of both ghosts.

“Crow! Crow!” Exclaimed the excited crow.

"But he's so smart, and he's a quick learner" the blonde said "Let's not adopt him, just let him stay around often, please?"

"Please, please!" It seemed that the crow itself was begging, so the halfa sighed.

"Fine, we'll let him go, but he can climb out the window if he chooses and we'll feed him." Danny said, it was obvious he was going to have another pet to take care of.

"Excellent!" Johnny looked at Shadow expectantly, Shadow simply nodded, clapping their hands and hugged the blond before merging back to their original place "Shadow agrees too"

“Gree, Gree" the crow was learning too many words and sounds.

"You're a very smart crow aren't you?" Danny called the bird that had landed on his head "I'll call you Poe."

"Poe! Poe!" The crow moved over his head and flew to his shoulder.

"Fine, but I have to go to work in a few minutes anyway, Johnny don't wake Cujo up, and if anything happens call me okay?" The halfa couldn't help but go to get ready for work, probably a little better than he should.

"The Twinkcito is lost" Johnny laughed as he sat down next to the crow that was now perched on the sofa "I'm sure he dressed up too much to go see Jay"

"Twi!Twi!cito!" Poe tried to get the word out.

"Yes, Twinkcito head over heels in love," Johnny encouraged him.

"Love love!" Poe exclaimed proudly.

When Danny ran out of the apartment, after spending too much time considering what he should wear, Johnny decided not to comment on how his little visitor had followed him.

—-----------

"Sorry, am I too late?" Danny hurried to meet Jason at the right place, he had come running because it took him too long to decide what to wear, which was a little ridiculous when he ended up wearing the same jacket Johnny gave him in reverse.

"No, you're just in time, I was going to make the announcement" Jason smiled a little relieved, he had been scared that some of his men were missing "Okay, listen up"

He raised his voice to get the attention of most of the people gathered, although it didn't have as much effect as the moment a crow landed on his head, Jason looked at him strangely, but decided to ignore it as Danny waved the crow off.

"Scarecrow escaped last night" Jason continued, grunts were heard from the crowd "yeah, I'm not excited either, but we'll spend today handing out gas masks around Crime Alley, okay?"

After a general agreement he turned to Danny who was looking at the crow in a panic "Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, perfectly, yes" the halfa replied a little upset.

"Twinkcito! Twinkcito!" Poe exclaimed happily.

"Johnny" Danny growled as he heard the crow.

"I suppose it's yours?" Jason chuckled but tried to cover it up by coughing, which didn't have much of an effect when Danny saw his betrayal.

"It's not mine, my roommate brought it and he's been following us but I thought he'd leave as soon as I got out of the apartment" the boy sighed.

"I guess he's taken a liking to you, what do you think about joining us today buddy?" Jason questioned patting the crow's head, though he wondered if he should look up more about that Johnny.

"Love! Love!" The crow exclaimed excited.

They both stared at the crow's words for a few seconds, Danny was the first to look away embarrassed, he was going to find out how to kill Johnny twice. One word shouldn't cause you to instinctively look at someone damn it.

"Right." Jason cleared his throat and led Danny over to the gas masks he had collected for these occasions, most of the goons were grabbing their own bag but since he was technically still a suspect, and fairly new, he had decided to join the boy for the task.

The morning passed quickly as Danny followed Jason carrying a bag of the masks that they were handing out together through Crime Alley. In general it seemed that Jay was focusing on the children, it was common for them to change places so he was worried that his companions would not reach them in time. The crow had moved away a while ago.

Danny greeted the kids who had arrived last time and they asked when he would be back at the soup kitchen.

"Well, I don't eat much, but if it's for work, probably next week" the halfa admitted.

Both Jason and the children looked at him uncertainly. Jason wondered if he should raise his pay since he hadn't given him any money yet, so maybe he didn't have food; or whether he should prepare refreshments for him. The children were more direct.

"Don't you eat much? Don't you have food at home?" A surprised girl questioned.

"Yes, I have food, although today I only had coffee for breakfast" Danny shrugged "my friend makes sure I eat something during the day, I usually forget about it"

Jason frowned at the answer, so the problem wasn't money.

"You're going to have breakfast with me on the days we work together" the vigilante pointed out, probably more demanding than he intended.

"Huh? Okay" Danny blushed, thinking that Jay had indirectly asked him out "Won't Hood have a problem with that?"

"Why would he?" Jason looked at Danny doubtfully. "I'm pretty sure he'll feed you as soon as I mention it to him."

The children looked at each other and after a quick conversation where Danny assured that he was not starving, they said goodbye. Each one with a mask in hand and a new tidbit about "Jay, the new guy and Hood"

After a while of distributing the masks Danny decided to ask.

"Jay, what's a Scarecrow?"

"Right, you're new to Gotham" Jason reminded "he's a recurring villain, he likes to scare people with fear gas"

"Oh" Danny remembered the lab at home "green gas?"

"Not necessarily, I really don't know what color it will be as he updates the formula." Jason was pretty sure Crane preferred purple for some reason.

"And by any chance he wears a Scarecrow mask and dresses weird?" Danny questioned looking across the street in a bit of a panic.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Jason asked curiously.

"Sacrifice! Sacrifice!" The crow flapping in front of them in a panic, Jason noticed that Danny was reaching into the bag.

It was at that moment that a building exploded behind him and Jason could hear Crane's characteristic laugh from across the street. He was relieved that he hadn't noticed them until Scarecrow fixed his gaze on the crow near them.

"Finally, I will get rid of those monsters and fear will rule all of Gotham!" Crane exclaimed with glee, laughing as the gas began to spread out down the street.

Jason cursed his luck, the only day the mad scientist had preferred to attack in the middle of the damn afternoon and he didn't have his weapons or his helmet with him "Danny you have to get out of here"

"No" Danny continued searching, but at the end of the bag he could only find a mask "you have to get out of here and gather the others"

Jason fixed his gaze on the approaching gas, Crane closing in on them too fast, driven to get rid of the crow next to them.

"Danny, the masks" Jason was cursing, he had to be stuck as a civilian.

"There's only one left" the halfa murmured worriedly.

Before Jason could say anything else, the gas was beginning to spread until almost reaching his face, he turned to Danny in a panic when he felt a weight on his nose.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You've never faced fear gas before, you have no resistance!" Jason exclaimed in concern, trying to remove Danny's hands from his face where he had put the only gas mask on.

No matter how hard he tried to struggle, the boy had more strength than he appeared. Jason didn't have time for pretty boys with a hero complex, it was too dangerous.

"Love! Love!" The crow exclaimed in panic, rising to where the gas was not reaching.

"Yeah, I'm probably being an idiot, I know." Danny was aware of that, he didn't know how his own unique physiology would react to the gas, but he could handle Frighty's dimension, and if anything happened he would at least know that Jay would be safe. His core couldn't bear to leave someone in danger, much less someone he likes.

"Now is not the time to be a hero!" Jason complained angrily when the boy adjusted the mask on his face, he could see Danny being surrounded by the damn gas.

"I'm not a hero Jay" Danny denied, it had been a long time since he was one, he swallowed looking around, not knowing what to expect "But I know some people are worth going crazy for"

Was he being a hopeless romantic? Yeah; logically he knew he could have gotten rid of the effects another time where he was paying more attention, there were many solutions: not breathing, surrendering to his ghost form, becoming intangible, but as he had mentioned earlier, he was a fool; he could feel his head start to cloud over, he had gasped in reflex panic, he was scared of not finding a mask for Jay and he forgot about himself, it was too late.

"Damn," Jason growled as he pressed the button that called Oracle, he held Danny close to his body as he saw him start to tremble "fuck, fuck."

"Jason? What's wrong?" Barbara's voice sounded shaken, it was early for anyone in the family to call, and Jason calling was rare.

"Crane, I'm engaged, tell the bats to hurry up or I swear I'll shoot him in the head" he said annoyed "he's not paying attention to me but I'm in front of him, I'll hide in a nearby alley, tell them to hurry up fucking immediately"

Oracle hastened to call the bats tracking his current location as Jason walked off into one of the nearby alleys, leading a trembling Danny along with him.

"You're an idiot" he murmured sadly, hugging the boy; he held him when the boy couldn't stand up and began to mutter in panic.

He knew there wasn't much he could do, he had a gun hidden in his thigh but if he killed Crane he would have another argument with B, and he was honestly not in the mood, he didn't want to leave Danny alone either.

"They better hurry up, damn it" even though he knew there was no point getting upset, he couldn't help it, he was aware that it would take a while for the bats to even process an antidote for Scarecrow's new formula.

"No wait, don't leave me alone" Danny stirred where he was still nestled in his arms, Jason stroked his back lovingly.

"Shh, its okay, you're not alone, I'm here" the vigilante knew it was useless, most of the victims of the fear gas were not aware of their surroundings, but he needed to do something to console the stupid man who decided to jump into an unknown danger for him, who did not think twice before deciding that he was worth it.

"You make it very difficult to suspect you, you know?" Jason sighed "I think I grew fond of you too, Doll."

And really, this guy was unfair, how could Jason resist falling for this asshole?

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

Aaand tag time, sorry for all the wait, honestly it was a bit of a difficult week but I wasn't going to let the week go by without an update so here we are, I hope you liked it (Hi Nixxie), I don't know how I keep accidentally making my chapters bigger but hey, I was really excited to write this scene and here we are, I hope this story doesn't go too fast for you, tell me your theories about the lab or anything else haha

@skulld3mort-1fan @sorryiwonnoob @idfk-man10 @avelnfear @criticaloverthinker @confusedandghostly @lunadoll36 @spidey29phangirl @suppengott @yjfk @apointlessbox @mimilikey @thegatorsgoose @jaggedheart11 @dyinggirldied @pyramaniac @akikkobara @thedragonqueen1998 @lostlightandfoundcrazy @xye-chan @saltyladynightmare @ashleysmshly @thewondersoflebanon @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @littlefeather345 @asphyxia778 @amercurio @leftmiraclechaos @dixiwoods @satoshy12 @lyra689 @meira-3919 @quietlyscared @plotwholls @kyrianclawraith @blacksea21090 @basilf1res @flowers-n-fauna @8-29pm @jaxinkh @luer-mirin @taniaundertaleau @cloriform @readerkayden @oddlydrawnpuppets @basementloser @little-green-asparagus @echoednonny @yummy-yummy-mmmbones @confusionchaos @ectoplasm024 @autumnwulf @666deaddash999 @redhoneysugarorange @blue-avis @sailor-goddess @satanicrutialspecialist

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tanjir0se · 1 month ago

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Love Me Mercilessly--Ch. 6

“I’m excited!” Genya said. Sanemi couldn’t help but smile at the massive grin that swallowed the kid’s face. “I’m gonna work hard today, just like you!”

The previous night he’d tried to argue with Genya and had gotten nowhere.

“Genya, you don’t need to do that. You’re still too young.” He’d put his hand on Genya’s head of coffee-brown hair.

“But Mom says you were five when you started working, too!”

Sanemi tried a different strategy. “Well I’m nine now and a lot faster than you. You’re just going to slow me down.”

“Nuh-uh! I’m gonna be as fast as you are, promise!’

Sanemi pulled on his shoes and readjusted the tape on the soles that kept most of the mud and water out. Genya followed suit, though since his shoes were Sanemi’s old ones, the tape process took a little extra time. Genya was too young to understand that him starting work at the same age Sanemi had was not something to be excited about. That working as hard as he did was not a victory.

Hiroshi slept soundly in the indent where Sanemi had been sleeping; Sumi and Teiko held each other in their shared bedroll a few feet away. Though Shuya was still too young to be sleeping in the kids room, Sanemi had heard his mother’s lullaby hushing him several times throughout the night. Having to work may not be a victory, but taking care of them was as good a victory as any in Sanemi’s eyes.

“Alright, alright. Come on, let’s get out of here before Dad comes back.”

SANEGIYUU SUNDAY FRIDAY !!!! NEW CHAP UP NOW GO READ IT NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW

#what if i. inflicted my own trauma upon my blorbos #welcome to daddy issues friday everyone #my stuff #kny #sanegiyuu #this is really not a sanegiyuu chapter it's a genya and sanemi chapter #genya shinazugawa #sanemi shinaguzawa #my absolute. goddamn. fucking. ANGELS #this chapter is a two parter so stay tuned for another early chapter!!!

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jtl-fics · 1 year ago

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Welcome to Demon School Iruma-kun makes me FUCKING FERAL I LOVE IT SO FUCKING IT MUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACH.

#New chapter got me #They always get me #but like this one FUCKING GOT ME #iruma suzuki #mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #asmodeus alice #clara valac #THEY'RE SOULMATES #ACTUALLY #I LOVE THEM #I ADORE THEM #THEY CAN MARRY OTHER PEOPLE BUT NO ONE WILL EVER BE MORE IMPORTANT TO ONE ANOTHER #LOVE LOVE TRIO FOR LIFE

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fangirls-fanfiction · 12 days ago

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Sooooooo after I wrote the chapter of my other story: 'A Contract; A Relationship' I started writing other short stories about what life was like for both Queen Dice and Luci and how their relationship developed before the main plot line of the show or the game. So I decided to make another story for it lol.

Yes, this is based on my genderbent/humanized au blog on Tumblr, though it does take place before it.

This first part is just that chapter that inspired this whole story (and a little extra st the end) just so no one gets confused lol

Enjoy! ^^

Story below undercut:

Even as they yelled after her, she ran. Even as she heard the sounds of gunshots, she ran. Even as her legs begged her to stop, she ran. She couldn't stop, it was between life or death.

In an attempt to lose them, she dashed down an alleyway. Turning around to see if the coast was clear, another gunshot fired just as she tripped and fell.

It was the end if the line. She scrambled to get up, only tripping and falling over once more. Such bad luck, tripping not once but twice; going down an alleyway with no way out; trying to pickpocket a man whilst not knowing he was the leader of a gang.

Such bad, bad luck. That's all she was good for, bad luck.

"Nowhere to run now, lil lady."

"I'm— I'm sorry! Please! I didn't mean any harm... I'm just so far away from home and I have nothing... I promise it won't happen again!" She begged for their mercy.

"There ain't no such thing as 'forgiving' in this here town. Besides, don't you know not to take things that don't belong to you?"

"Of course! I'm sorry! Here!" She tossed him his wallet. "Really! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to— "

"Too late for that, lil lady."

All four silhouettes aimed their guns at her, the girl shielding her face as she braced for impact.

But instead, she heard one of the guys screaming.

Quickly uncovering her eyes, she watched in horror as one of the gang members was caught ablaze by some unknown force. After he was scorched to ashes, another one's gun blew up in his face, causing him to fall over and his body catch in fire. The leader and one other man stood alone as a cloud of purple smoke and bright spark appeared in between the girl and the gangsters.

As the smoke cleared, she watched in horror as they all recognized who had joined them in the alleyway.

"Hello boys." The Devil sneered.

Wasting no time, the two gangsters shot at the demon, only seeming to knock her back slightly. With a snap of her fingers, the barrels of both of their guns were bent, pointing directly at them.

"Shoot another damn bullet... I fucking dare you." The Devil spoke darkly.

The two gang members ran off, the Devil still standing with her back to the girl. She had no idea what the demon had in store for her. She herself had never seen a four person gang turn to a two person gang run off from one person. Not only that, but she was the Devil. Her purpose was to cause misery and break mortals' dreams and create chaos. Who knows what she was planning for her now that the gang was gone. It didn't matter how many times those gang members had shot her, she was the Devil.

Though, as the demon stood there, the girl became less and less convinced. The gang had surely shot her more than a dozen times, but she was immortal, she would be fine. Right...?

Swaying back and forth slightly, the Devil finally fell to the ground with a thud. Her trident clanked to the cement, bouncing just out of her reach. Not that she was reaching for it, she didn't move a muscle after she fell to the ground.

Taking that as a miracle, the girl hurried out of the alleyway and past the fallen demon. Coming to the end of it, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Devil or not, the demon had saved her life and here she was running off without so much as a thank you. She turned around a bit, the demon still not moving. Walking back into the alley a few steps, she stopped when she felt she was far enough away that she could run if the Devil were to wake up.

"Are... Are you ok...?" She asked, her voice echoing in the alleyway.

But the Devil didn't react whatsoever.

"Ma'am, are you ok?" She said more confidently, taking one more step closer.

Still nothing.

Just then, she saw it. A large wound on the Demon's hip, swimming in blood. Panicking, she looked around as if someone was nearby who could help. But at this time of night, the streets were desolate. Not one person. Just her and the Devil.

Kneeling down to be more level with the demon, she felt a sharp pain near her stomach. Immediately placing a hand over it, her white glove turned red from the blood of the bullet wound.

'I didn't dodge the bullet...' She stared in complete horror.

Snapping back to reality, she noticed that the demon's wound was only getting worse by the minute.

Untying her neckscarf, she was hesitant to actually follow through with this plan. This was the Devil after all. Glancing at her face, the girl let out a sigh before letting out a deep breath and began dabbing the blood to hopefully control the bleeding. Her father had taught her a bit about first aide- But nothing about demon blood. Not that she thought that she'd ever need it; in the 20 years of her life, she never once thought that her first encounter with the Devil would be like this. So she handled this situation as she would for a human. Applying pressure, she finally took another glance at the demon. Able to concentrate on her appearance now, she was almost surprised. Aside from the horns and tail, the Devil looked pretty... Average. Despite all the stories she had heard, the Devil's appearance seemed to contradict almost all of them. The demon almost looked friendly, but she should've known better. The demon most likely used this form to trick people. Though fallen down on the ground unconscious and bleeding, the Devil looked rather defenseless. Not in a negative light, but in a damsel in distress kind of way. She'd almost call her beautiful, though that just felt... Odd. Pretty or not, she was still the Devil. Like, the mistress of all Evil and the Queen of Hell.

Turning back to the wound, her efforts hardly seemed to be working. Her neck scarf appeared to have hardly done anything. Putting the scarf aside, she looked around. Panic setting in, she realized that she had no idea how to deal with this effectively.

She jumped at a quiet groan, the Devil's eyes blinked open to a narrow slit. Her eyes were an empty, yet oddly beautiful, shade of gold. Glowing in the darkness, her eyes fixed on the girl, the girl freezing in place. Though the demon seemed less angry and more confused. Unfocused. Like she was trying to remember what had happened. Hesitantly, the demon sat up, the girls falling backwards and backing away. She coughed as blood entered her lungs, making her fall back against the brick wall of the alleyway. She struggled to breathe, as she watched the Devil stand without much effort and go to her trident.

With a single strike to the ground, the magic of the demon's trident had healed her wound. She glanced back at the girl, who panicked, trying to explain herself but instead threw herself into a coughing fit, falling to the ground.

"You're a Dice, I presume?" The Devil knelt down to be level with her. "I'd recognize that dapper clothing anywhere."

"Go away— " She started, coughing once more.

"I see they got you pretty good." The Devil ignored her comment.

Unable to speak and verbally tell her to go, the girl mustered up all her strength to swing at the Devil, the demon easily catching her fist.

"Listen, this is important, I can help you... For a price." The Devil let go of her hand. "Judging by the fact that you're inhaling your own blood, you've only got a few minutes." She went on. "You can either die here or let me help you; for the small price of working for me under a contract."

The girl sat up, opening her mouth to speak, only to fall right back over in a coughing fit.

The Devil extended out her hand for a handshake, awaiting her to take the deal. Barely able to breath, her vision began to get fuzzy as she stared at the Devil's hand. Using what was left of her strength, she took the chance, agreeing to the deal and shaking the Devil's hand.

Not even a moment later, her lungs cleared, giving her a chance to breath once more. Feeling around where her wound once was, she was relieved to see that it was gone. She was ok. She wasn't going to die.

Her gaze redirected to the Devil to thank her for what she had done, however, her heart sank as she stared right at a contract and a quill.

"That's an awful lot of fine print."

"Don't worry about it, no one reads it anyway." The Devil placed a pen in her hand.

"I..."

"Don't go back on your word now... I hate it when people go back on their word." The Devil growled.

Nodding quickly, she hesitantly signed the contract, the shimmery, gold parchment disappearing with a spark as her own left the paper.

"There we are, the deal is done and the oath is sealed." The Devil sneered. "Welcome aboard, Miss Queen Dice."

♠️ ♠️ ♠️

Queen Dice sat in her seat by the office door. This was the worst thing to happen to her. Between all of the trials and tribulations she'd endured her whole life, this one certainly took the cake as the worst. She couldn't imagine what the Devil had in store for her. What she'd be doing for the rest of her life, in this awful place.

Taking a look around, her eyes gazed up at the towering walls of brimstone. Deep into the pits of hell and among the demons and the sinners. She'd always tried to be a good person, despite where she came from.

She was a good person, right?

Trying to keep her mind off of it, Dice glanced down the corridor. Though she was specifically told to stay in this spot the Devil left her in, her curiosity was piqued. Glancing at the door, Queen Dice stood from the seat, starting down the corridor.

If this would be where she would be trapped for the rest of eternity, she might as well get a look around. The Devil wouldn't even notice that she was gone.

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yolowritter · 6 months ago

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A Case of Ladybug Luck: Masterpost

Hello there everyone, and welcome to the waiting room of Hell! I cannot believe it's been an entire year since I started this AU and I never made this. But anyway, below you'll find a list of every chapter of A Case of Ladybug Luck, along with the fic's summary! Feel free to ask me about it, this AU is genuinely one of my favorites! It's really angsty, lots of good stuff here!

I will be updating this frequently with content from across this AU! Currently I have the main fic and the what-if fic, but more ideas are on the drawing board! You can find everything below the cut! I will be leaving the summary for ACOLL here, anyone interested is more than welcome to shoot me an ask! Please mind the tags and warnings for each chapter, and enjoy reading! Summary: Marinette doesn't think she can keep living like this. She never told Alya her secret, and her life is in shambles. Adrien is the only one who has noticed and tried to help, but he isn't enough. Lila has them both trapped in a web of lies they can't escape from, and their friends are all taking her side, unwilling to listen to either of them. She's losing hope. At least...at least Chat Noir noticed. She still had her partner. But when an oppurtunity presents itself to Marinette, the perfect chance to get away from this hellish existence and start brand new, she takes it, leaving Paris to deal with the consequences of her actions...

A Case of Ladybug Luck:

Arc 1: End of the Line

Chapter 1: End of the Line

Chapter 2: Last Night in Paris

Chapter 3: The Butterfly Effect

Chapter 4: Perfection's Shattering

Chapter 5: The Illusion of Living

Chapter 6: Cat's Cradle

Chapter 7: Spotted Trouble

Chapter 8: Let the Masks Fall

Chapter 9: Mastermind's Confession

Chapter 10: Aftermath

Arc 2: Liar Liar...Fauxfire

Chapter 11: Investigative Journalism

Chapter 12: Kind Stranger

Chapter 13: Fault and Forgiveness

Chapter 14: Thawed out Hearts

Chapter 15: Shopping Therapy

Chapter 16: Felix

Chapter 17: Remembrance of Gold Part 1

Chapter 18: Remembrance of Gold Part 2

Chapter 19: Marching Far Away

Chapter 20: Dearest Family

Chapter 21: Burn Our Bridges Down

Chapter 22: Ashen Ghosts

Chapter 23: Liar liar...

Chapter 24: Fauxfire

Arc 3: Tying the Noose

Chapter 25: It's Always Sunny

Chapter 26: Reunion

Chapter 27: Family Secrets

Chapter 28: Argos

Chapter 29: Ryuko

Chapter 30: The Rising Storm

Chapter 31: N/A

Chapter 32: N/A

Chapter 33: N/A

Chapter 34: N/A

Chapter 35: N/A

Chapter 36: N/A

Chapter 37: N/A

Chapter 38: N/A

Arc 4: Shadowmoth's Final Attack

Chapter 39: Shadowmoth's Final Attack Part 1

Chapter 40: Shadowmoth's Final Attack Part 2

A Case of Ladybug Luck: What If?

Chapter 1: What if...Chloe chased after Marinette?

Chapter 2: What if...Adrien ran away from home?

TBC

More projects TBA

#miraculous ladybug #a case of ladybug luck #ao3 fanfic #miraculous fanfic #masterpost #yolo's masterposts #adding that tag cuz i have more aus to make these for #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #angst #like...a lot of angst #bit much innit?#emotional damage #i am not kidding #my readers are traumatized #so am i tbh #details details #you don't make good angst without crying over your own scenes #but yeah feel free to check the au out #also podfics / art / fanfic of my fanfic / comics/ other fan projects of any kind are very very welcome!#to know that my work has inspired someone to make stuff is amazing #it seriously would be the greatest thing ever #anyway yeah #i have another 10 chapters of this hell to write as of editing #and dear god #nobody is ready for this #just ao3 things #hope you enjoy #hope i don't finish this au in a nursing home #anyway i'll see myself out!

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vargaslovinghours · 1 year ago

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Fandom: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (But really Vargas lol) Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

What, exactly, did Scriabin take from Edgar when they separated?

My first multichapter fic for Vargas! :D Yay!

(Pls read Ch. 1 first - Ch. 2 is also recommended, but as long as you're caught up on the first, you're good to go!)

-----

Side B

What the fuck.

"It's, it's possible that if, maybe whatever happened earlier, whatever caused all that blood and for us to be knocked unconscious-"

What the fuck.

"-and if I suffered a head injury, then maybe-"

No. That's enough.

Scriabin pushed away from the closet door he'd defensively pressed himself up against and put his hands on Edgar's shoulders, which quieted him. He looked at him expectantly, with eyes that Scriabin somehow only just now realized were casually guarded, curious, uncertain in a way that denoted inexperience. That was so messed up, that was completely wrong. Edgar should've been on guard, absolutely, but only because he knew exactly what Scriabin was capable of. He really didn't want to look at him right now if this was what he was going to be seeing instead.

He spun him quickly and pushed him out the door before he could protest. He got one last look at those wide, confused eyes before he slammed the door behind him, bracing it shut with both hands for good measure.

What. The fuck. His head came forward, making a dull thud as his forehead connected with the door. He doesn't remember me? His fingers curled on the door. What does he mean he doesn't remember me?! How could he not know me?! One hand pushed through his hair; his scalp tingled and that was so weird, he felt it and it was so weird- We literally just- He literally just-! As if pulling him screaming into life wasn't bad enough, now he had decided to play some sick prank!

This can't be true. It's just like him to try and make jokes at the worst possible time, he has no tact.

There was a timid knock on the other side of the door. Scriabin jumped as it resonated through his skull, his elbow, pressed to the door with his hand buried in his hair, set his jaw. Then silence.

If he was really trying to get back in, clear things up, say he was only kidding, he'd actually try.

Nothing.

Scriabin's blood was ice as he went over it again. The way he'd said his name. The vacant look in his eyes as he said it, like his mouth knew its shape but none of the meaning. No fear, no realization, nothing that really felt like Edgar, just sound, just noise.

Maybe he really had-

Oh god. His knees gave out, and his arms had no practice at holding him upright, not yet. His hand slid down the door, his other hand guarding his head as his hair fluffed against the grain.

How could he do this

This is all his fault

Stupid, idiotic

He can't do this to me

I can't believe him

I can't believe this

How dare he leave me alone like this

Thoughts spiralling, and all he could do was hold himself down, press his fingers into the back of his neck, force his chest to his knees and maybe he wouldn't immolate under it all. He was shaking, from tension or fear he couldn't tell, his mind too hazardous and loud to cut through it all. He was shaking, dizzy, and if he moved, letting go would surely kill him.

He can't do this to me.

He breathed. And breathed. And swallowed. Eyes closed, heart pounding, sure. Confusion and dismay, whatever. Pain. Fine. So be it.

This isn't like me. A hand untethered from his vice grip in his hair, and he stayed attached to the floor. It connected with the carpet below him and became a new lifeline. He pushed up and away into a limp sit, arms already burning slightly from holding himself up after all that. He shook his head mildly. This isn't who I'm going to be in life. His body, this fear response be damned, he was in control now.

Regroup. Let's- a mental pause, barely a quarter of a second long as he turned the word in his head. Let's pretend it's all true- what does that mean?

He flopped over, leaned upright with his back against the door, heels of his fists pushed down into the carpet to scootch closer. Moving was so awkward still, very unfitting.

He was acting normal. Well, Edgar's baseline for "normal" had changed considerably, so maybe put an asterisk on that. Not that he was ever normal to begin with, but normal-for-Edgar, -ish. That means he has to have some memory.

Scriabin held out a hand, arm slung over his knee, one finger held out. He had recognized his glasses. One. The apartment. Two. Which key to use. Three. He had said Todd's name. Four.

His stuff can be discounted, he's had all that for a while. Back down to one. The kid is a new fixture. Which means he remembers the last couple months at least. He shook his head and brought his hand up to comb through his hair. Well...it's fuzzy for me, so it probably is for him, too. Scriabin remembered everything in as much clarity as the last couple months allowed, there was no way Edgar would know more even if he had all his memories.

Speaking of which, Scriabin could remember everything. He flipped through; the last two months and bringing Todd in, Edgar's parting words to Johnny, his and Devi's conversation - he grit his teeth - and further back, everything along the way, all the way back. False dreams, shared childhoods, everything that was once Edgar's alone, he still remembered it. Nothing was out of place which made it all the more strange!

This is so fucking weird, if I remember everything, then why would he-

He stopped short. His purported purpose had been to replace Edgar. Take him over completely. If he bought into the conceit for a moment, just to play in the space... He was alive now. That was not as intended; it shouldn't even have been possible.

Did he...give me his memories? Like, all the way? Not just to borrow, to shape him, give him legitimacy - he was alive now. His own person. Separate, embodied, and whole. Was this the price of life?

That's stupid. But possible, he couldn't discount. If this - he brought his hands up and looked down at them, watched himself touch his own chest and felt it beneath his coat, shirt, the nerves firing as his slid his fingers up himself - if this was possible, then...

He continued for a moment, curious and reverant, all of him new and privately exciting, to exist and to touch, to feel, smell, see, all of it clear and fresh and penetrated deeply into his mind, as if a layer of film had been lifted from his senses. The moment passed as the memories, unbidden but important, cluttered in around him again.

There were still a lot of questions, and most of them couldn't be answered without Edgar, ugh. If getting anything out of him before had been like pulling teeth, he was very sobered to think about how it might be now. Depending on how much Edgar remembered, maybe he could start piecing things together.

Did he do it on purpose? Did he know this would happen? There's no way he would have been willing to if he had- But he couldn't ask him things like that. Even if he did remember, admitting something like that...

He was just spinning his wheels at this point. Better to gather what he could from the man himself. He looked up, preparing to stand.

Ah-

The room was still in something of a state.

Edgar would be annoying, or at least distracted by trying to pick up the clothes and uncarefully unpacked items strewn about the floor from Scriabin's very successful excavation of his old glasses. The clutter would have to go if he wanted his full attention.

He grumbled as he pushed off the door to pick up the first few things. First day of life and I'm already his maid. Figures. He's always needed me to clean up after him.

Silence.

Somehow it only just hit him. Thinking alone in the late hours, planning things behind Edgar's back, it was nothing new. But a barb unsunk into his mental flesh was left out in the wide emptiness, poised to stab whoever happened upon it next, and he was the only one here.

He felt very small all of a sudden, and he didn't like it at all.

His eyes blankly scanned the room, looking for nothing, until they settled on the toy at Edgar's bedside. His toy.

He dropped the items he'd bundled into his arms and made his way over. He picked up the small simulacrum, turned it over in his hands once, and stared at it.

He wouldn't know this. Not really. He brushed a thumb up and over the little mouth, the contours of its small face. Retroactively, I've never been this at all.

I'm no one to him.

Does this mean we can start over? The thought struck him like lightning, freezing his heart in his chest. He was fixed solid, staring down at the small figure in his hands.

Before he could even think, he'd already thrown it through the open closet door, landing noisily in the box he'd dug through with a clatter. He grabbed up the fallen clothes and items and stuffed them back in the box, burying the toy in mundane detritus, then closed the cardboard flaps and slammed the door of the closet for good measure.

His breath was laboured and he glared, like wishing it gone would make the closet itself disappear.

Answers. He needed answers, more than anything.

He ripped the door open, and there was Edgar who looked up, staring dumbly back at him and carrying the clothes he'd shed earlier over his arm. Something in his mind clicked over, and he didn't think about it.

"Alright," he caught his breath for half a second, "what do you remember?"

Edgar just kept on staring, mouth open, eyes unconfident behind weak glasses. Scriabin huffed irritably, I don't have time for this, and moved towards him, arm outstretched.

"Come on." Edgar gave a small startled sound behind him as he grabbed his collar and dragged him through the doorway. He threw him across the room, not bothering to watch his arc as he closed the door behind him. The bed was that way, he'd be fine.

When he turned back, Edgar had managed to catch himself, though already halfway on the bed. Scriabin stood with his back to the door, feet planted and he crossed his arms. No more speculating around impossibilities, tangible and present as they might be, it was time for a proper interrogation. It was at least preferable to-

Edgar made a face at him and scooted back, offering a seat next to him on the bed. Equal footing briefly flashed through his mind and while he wouldn't consider it ideal, nothing today was really going his way. He sighed, then made his way over and sat across from Edgar, who was eyeing him with a certain degree of caution. At least the feeling was mutual.

"Spill." He re-crossed his arms and leaned towards Edgar. "What do you know?"

Edgar hesitated, apparently thinking, his hands laced and fingers agitatedly if quietly rubbing the backs of his hands.

"I want to verify some things first."

Scriabin snorted dismissively. Where had Edgar's overly-trusting nature gone? A serial killer, well he's an honoured guest, but Scriabin? He didn't even distrust him for the right reasons.

He gestured with an open hand, Go ahead, then tucked his arm back in.

"Todd's last name?"

Pfsh. At least it was proof enough that anything Edgar knew, Scriabin did as well. As expected.

"Casil. His stupid bear's called Shmee in case you forgot that too." Edgar shook his head. No he hadn't? If only he could just check!

"Do you know our phone number?" Obviously he did, so he rattled it off quickly, Edgar nodding in turn. He flipped his hair in time with the last digit, careful to keep his eyes covered. It was a bit of a timid attempt, being the first in this body, which was a minor blessing he supposed.

Edgar mulled over what he'd given him for a moment, then a moment longer, then a moment even longer. His eyes searched absently, gazing down into his own hand, his other on his chin, lightly thumbing his goatee. He was focused on names and numbers, but those were child's play compared to everything, everything Scriabin still wanted to know. It was frustrating on a visceral level, watching him struggle with such simple innocuous nothings while the most important person in his life was sitting right in front of him.

He was supposed to be the most important.

It was frustrating.

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" He didn't hide the sneer as it shaped his voice - odd the way his body just did that now, did things without him actively thinking them into being. Even things like the little waver that made its way in that he pushed back down and under. He was frustrated, angry, tired - any emotionality could be attributed to those, nothing else.

Edgar didn't answer, just kept his gaze locked to his face. That was almost worse. Watching him fumble through things, it wasn't fun, but at least he wasn't trying to pry. He could see him try to look past his bangs, and the fact that he didn't know better...

Scriabin looked away for a moment, then thought better of it. Best defense is a good offense.

He reached for Edgar's face, for those damn scars, ever-present reminders. Edgar shied away, not wanting to be touched suddenly by someone he didn't know. As if Scriabin had ever cared about that.

Well, things were different now. Maybe he didn't really want to touch him anyway. Not yet.

"Do you remember these...?" Instead he framed his face with his hands less than an inch from his skin, and even there he could feel the heat coming off him. Edgar reached for his face, looking away from Scriabin as he touched the angry red marks. He winced minutely, then glanced back at Scriabin, searching him, his expression guarded again. Scriabin could hear his own pulse in his ears.

"...Johnny?"

"Fuck." Fuck! "Of course you'd remember him but not me." God damn it! It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, just because Johnny came first by a hair's breadth, just because he wasn't in Edgar's head, with Edgar's fucked up little obsession with the murderous stick figure- It limited what he could get away with too, if he remembered that far back. Absolutely nothing was going in his favour.

"I'm sorry..." He sounded genuinely remorseful, and it stuck in his throat. Disgusting. "So you know Johnny, too."

"Unfortunately." Scriabin tucked his chin to his chest, arms crossed again in close proximity. This sucks. Edgar just kept rambling, unaware as ever. His excuses held this time at least, one point in his favour, no points for bringing his annoying habits with him despite everything.

"I don't think I've seen him for a couple months now? Everything's awfully..." He gave a vague gesture and Scriabin uncurled slightly. He was giving him room to contribute. He shook his head.

"You haven't."

"Have you?"

He returned to his tight coil of sulking. Not like he was keen to meet up and chat, but he couldn't explain why he hadn't had the opportunity to either.

"I remember he called, too."

"Ugh," barely above breath. Enough about Johnny! Again, Edgar continued obliviously.

"Although I don't really recall what we talked about, not for a while..."

Of course not. I took over for half of those.

He perked a bit, and Edgar focused more on him, patiently setting his hands in his lap.

"You know."

He could play this to his advantage. Give Johnny some well-deserved karmic justice for fucking him over so many times. It was almost better that Edgar didn't know - Scriabin had been trying to get him away from Johnny all this time, and if he really had forgotten everything, not just the moments when Scriabin took over but every moment they had shared, then that meant it coincided almost perfectly with his first meeting with Johnny. Blank spot after blank spot after blank spot, all lined up immediately after getting his face slashed.

He could work with that.

"It's probably trauma." Edgar startled and his hand shot to his temple, lightly touching his hair.

"Like, head trauma?" Scriabing almost laughed. Yeah, probably that too. But that wouldn't help his case.

"No." He leaned in, taking a more intimate, secretive tone. "Think about it. When did things start getting fuzzy?" If he was right on this - which of course he was, but not being able to verify, not being able to see that he was right, it was disconcerting - but if he was, Edgar's memories of Scriabin should start with that first fateful encounter, give or take. A bit of reframing here, a touch of implication there... It probably wasn't even an outright lie; if Edgar's memory were perfect after experiencing everything Johnny had put them through, that would be some kind of twisted miracle.

His only real concern was their "childhood" - how much had Scriabin pulled with him? Would that throw off his story? But that was so far back, there was no way Scriabin or Johnny could be implicated in that. As long as Edgar didn't bring it up before he thought his way around it...

Edgar stayed quiet for a long while. His eyes raced behind closed eyelids, searching, scanning, retracing - Scriabin could almost see the moments where he hesitated, stopped and went back, then starting recollecting again. He wished he could see it for real, watch him unfold himself, touch those memories again, hold up his own in contrast. Even just hear Edgar's thoughts as they went by, feel the emotions he felt. But he couldn't, so he just stared as unblinkingly as this new body would allow, just watched as Edgar went over everything on his own.

He finally opened his eyes, staring back into Scriabin's though he was sure they were still hidden. He felt naked and awkward and Edgar still hadn't said anything. If he could just see like he was supposed to, or if Edgar would just tell him, he wouldn't have to ask. I have to do everything around here.

"It was after you met him, wasn't it?"

"You think it's...mental trauma?" An unspoken 'yes.' Relief flooded him, and he pushed ahead.

"Edgar. He stabbed you." Edgar gripped his shoulder, his eyes closing again and he looked to be in pain. That was a very effective reminder at least. "Do you even know why?" He shook his head and spoke throught half-grit teeth.

"I must have made him mad, but I don't remember-" Of course not, I did that.

"Your mind is trying to protect you." Not. But one of us has to with your inexhaustable deathwish. Scriabin reached out to touch him properly, but Edgar pulled away. He didn't follow, still not yet. Play up the pity. "He messed you up so bad," with a curl in his tone, an I told you so that barely made it to words even privately; how long had he been holding that in? "Surely you must've felt like you wanted, you needed to get away from him, that he wasn't good for you, that you-" He'd told him so many times, some it must have stuck, some of it had to have-

"Then-!" Edgar's eyes shot open, wide and desperate with an edge of disbelief. A strangled gasp escaped him, half-choking him as he tried to speak. "Then why can't I remember you?!"

He almost began rolling off the cuff, but really, he still didn't know for sure. And it definitely wasn't like he could tell the truth even if he wanted to; who, who hadn't lived it, would believe him? Edgar certainly wouldn't, not with his lack of imagination. He had to dress this up, weave a narrative that was plausible, had the perfect mix of truth and falsehood to stand up to scrutiny.

Huh. Ironic.

"I..." No. Some of this was Edgar's fault too. "We...argued."

"Argued?"

"I... Mng." He wanted to aim for some kind of levity, but his throat had tightened on him. He just wanted to tell this stupid inside joke and not have it affect him, not have it mean anything, and here he was getting emotional? He'd say it and fucking mean it. "It's not like I'm in your head, so-" spat out in a rush, there, he'd said it. Haha, isn't that so funny. He swallowed harshly, pushing down everything he felt into his stomach acid. He was in control. He was fine. This didn't shake him. "I can't know for sure," another humourless laugh inside, "but I was against your relationship with Johnny. Maybe you shut me out so you could keep seeing him with no pushback."

It certainly wasn't outside the realm of possibilities of what Edgar would do to avoid taking Scriabin's extremely basic advice about fraternizing with serial killers. How many times had he been ignored up to this point, only to culminate in the ultimate 'I don't know what you're talking about.' Pfeh. I bet he wishes he'd thought of this sooner. It did nothing for his painfully stuttered pulse.

"You know, I've been trying to convince you to stop going back to him for a while, but, well..." He waved his hand at Edgar's hand still death gripped into his shoulder, and Edgar averted his eyes guiltily. At least he showed some remorse. Better than his nigh constant apologia.

He stayed quiet a moment longer, and just before Scriabin made to fill the silence again, Edgar struck him with an intense look.

"What are you to me?" Ugh. Of course. There was not a single good answer for that. Even if he told him everything- no, especially if he told him everything, there was no way Edgar would believe him. But coming up with a convincing lie on the spot, when they were so clearly something to each other - even he needed time to come up with something workable. How could he have ever prepared for a situation like this? It was never meant to happen, so many things were never meant to happen!

He continued at Scriabin's silence. "You know Nny," Ugh! Even his awful nickname. "And Todd. And...me." He couldn't refute it, so he nodded tightly. "Do you live here?"

Technically he had, and technically he hadn't. Still, going forward, it would be easier to let Edgar assume that he did. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go at the moment anyway.

"Yes."

"Are we..." He searched him, looked him over as much as he could and he wasn't subtle about it. If only Scriabin had his proper glasses, he'd let him look as much he wanted, behold his spectacle! As it was, he just felt self-conscious and it was very unbefitting. "...family?"

The baggage on that. He did not feel like opening that particular can of worms in either of their current states. He turned his head and flipped through any number of halfway decent ways to phrase it until he hit on something Edgar would remember. Better not to contradict for now.

"You told Johnny you have no family when you met."

"That's true..." Edgar blinked, processing. "Wait, did I tell you that?" Scriabin startled. Even after he'd accounted for his memory! Of course he had to pick his story apart now, he never knew when to leave well enough alone.

"When you-" No, he had to be involved. "When we bandaged your face."

Edgar mulled on that for a few seconds, taking on a thoughtful pose. "I only remember being alone."

"You don't remember me at all. What do you want from me?" He huffed.

"No, sorry, you're right."

"Thank you." He was right!

Where had Edgar expected him to be? There was something weird about how he'd said it. He filed the thought away for later.

"So, if you've been living here, where..." Edgar looked around the room, then back to Scriabin. "Where have you been sleeping? Todd's already on the couch..."

Scriabin couldn't help as a smile sprung to his face. If he was going to present him with such a perfect opportunity, well, he'd better take it. He even had the decency to look nervous in response! This was too good.

"Would you believe me if I said right here, in bed?" He again tucked his chin, playfully this time, his hair falling further in his eyes. Even through the dark tangles he could make out Edgar's face immediately bristling with heat.

Ooh. That's such a fetching shade on you, my dear.

"But-! I, I haven't been sleeping on the floor!" He was visibly sweating!

"Correct." His smile grew. This was too easy, and he needed an easy win right about now.

"W-" He leaned forward on his legs, though refused to get any closer. When he spoke it was a harsh whisper. "Why...?"

Scriabin shrugged easily, not bothering to reign in his smile in the least. "I mean, where else, right?" He leaned in since Edgar refused to, and oh. He was blushing all the way up to his scalp. Hilarious. "You certainly didn't seem to mind." He couldn't hold back the slightly musical tone or his eyebrows inclination to move on their own. His body knew what he was getting at, and he could see it only increased Edgar's fluster. All the better.

"Well I do now!" Edgar darted up and away, stumbling in his hasty retreat. "If you'll excuse me!" though he was already practically in the hallway by the time he said it. What a display, and Scriabin's laugh was loud and natural.

Finally, something positive. He'd managed to fumble his way through, not his best work in lying or manipulation, but he'd set some important groundwork. He'd gotten some answers, and he could start to shape some more believable stories around them.

The biggest hurdles were Johnny and Devi. As long as Edgar didn't meet with them too soon - or well, at all would be preferable, but he doubted he could just keep him locked up, as much as the idea appealed to him. There were so many things that were possible now, things that he had the ability to do, given the right circumstances... All of that in due time. For now he had a yarn to spin.

He listened as Edgar fumbled in the hall, the sheer sound of cloth being pulled and folded over an arm barely perceptable. Was he really going to try to sleep on what little was left over? Maybe he'd give up once he realized the pickings were thin and beg Scriabin to let him sleep with him. Hah.

While he was out, Scriabin made his way over to the pajamas drawer. They were all old and soft, even just to his hand. They'd do for now, until he could get his own. It wasn't like he hadn't worn all this before anyway.

By the time he'd finished dressing, his clothes discarded on the opposite side of the bed to where Edgar had set up his little nest, Edgar had finally gotten himself a set of pajamas. He wondered for a moment if he'd dress with Scriabin in the room again, though maybe his intense stare drove him off. Who could say. He patted the bed with a wide grin when he returned and was dutifully ignored. He settled down to the side, and Scriabin laid on his arms to look down at him.

"Ugh, lame."

"I don't-"

"Yeah, whatever." He'd heard it all before. At least he could literally look down on him like this. He folded his hands and leaned just a bit further, looking him over. A desire he hadn't realized he had surfaced in the dark and quiet. "Give me your hand."

"Sorry?" Scriabin held out his hand expectantly.

"I used to hear your heart beat every day." Edgar looked at him incredulously, but Scriabin was unperturbed. "Let me hear it again."

He hesitated but eventually slowly offered his arm. "...Okay."

He pulled his arm up and placed his thumb against his wrist. He felt a strange mismatch - where he'd been expecting one heartbeat, there were two. He covered his surprise, near shock at the realization that of course he had his own body now, by pulling harder on Edgar's arm, directing him up to his ear.

"Wh-"

"Shh." Quietly. He had wanted this, wanted this body, this separation, this freedom for so long, and now... He spoke quietly, his voice betraying nothing. "I'm listening."

Edgar's pulse was erratic, but he hardly paid attention to it. His own fingers on Edgar's skin, warm and pliant, and Edgar's fingers twitching in his hair, he could feel it, he was trying not to touch him- This hesitation was killing him, every jerky movement away not from fear of what Scriabin could do to him, just uncertainty, like he was still a stranger- He pressed him harder to his head, and he could feel goosebumps under his fingers. He wanted to just hold him there until all the memories they'd shared poured back through him, into his blood, into his breath.

Where are you?

But he replied in that same uncertain, guarded tone that indicated he didn't know, not really.

"C...can I have my arm back now?"

He pushed him away. "Fine." Edgar curled his hand protectively against his chest, and he noticed he rubbed it slightly, he probably hadn't even realized.

He mumbled out a harried "Good night," and it was almost enough to make Scriabin smile. Almost. He could still affect him but this wasn't enough, it wasn't right.

He laid his head on the pillow, not bothering to pull his arm up over the side of the bed. If he twitched in the night and touched Edgar, well, that could mean anything. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he did it on purpose. Plausible deniability was one of his greatest assets.

As it was, he was just tired. Maybe he didn't pull it back because he hated the thought of sleeping alone, pushed out and forgotten, and hated it more that he was even thinking something like that. How pathetic. He didn't need anyone, especially not Edgar.

But he was tired. Not in his right mind.

Does this mean we can start over...?

The thought echoed and died, and he slept.