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empty-masks · 2 years

Text

Book Four, Chapter Four

CW: Strong Language, Sexual References, Graphic Violence, Fantasy Bigotry, Smoking, Alcohol Use, Light Body Horror

Between a board of incredibly ungrateful directors and a flaming wolf monster sits a lone woman, perched in the latest of ergonomic office seating and clothed in the finest of business casual fashions. Though the beast is drooling some horrid mix of foam, charcoal, and embers, her cool, grey eyes do not waver from the glowing red gaze that weighs down upon her. Perhaps she clicks her pen a little harshly, giving away a hint of her nerves and cutting a small slice from the spring’s lifespan, but far as Blondie’s concerned this woman is as stoic as stone— a hard feat to pull off in a field filled with people made of literal rock.

A lot of people prefer to hire golemnic sorts for this exact reason. When a problem, like a hulking creature dripping with fire and hate comes to call at the doors of people in suits, they usually have to rely on outside physical, and mental muscle to help stop the fire. Golems are great for that. And yet this secretary does not budge no matter how loud he screams, no matter how many holes he punches in the office’s drywalls, now matter how far he tosses the pair of rent-a-cop guys who continue to urge him to leave as he’s continually denied entrance by one Ms. Bleu.

“Listen to me, goddamnit! I am ALIVE! Look at me and tell me I’m not ALIVE!” Blondie shouts, stomping back and forth in the unfamiliar reception room. After all, he used to be the top dog— why should he have to spend any time sitting around here with Ms. Bleu, the lady literally hired to shut out impromptu visitors with the aid of security. Such security, at this very moment, are picking themselves up off the floor again and thanking whatever backwater deities watching over that they’re in a little something called “civilization,” otherwise known as Black Hill. Being in a place like this, even with him in this state, has his hands tied.

“You most certainly are, Mister… “Blondie.” Unfortunately, we already have it on record that you’re dead, which voids your contracts, including your security clearance.” Bleu’s lips— painted purple to pop against her blue-slate skin, matching the dark off-black hues of her hair— pull into a small and insultingly courteous smile. “I am most certain you are most definitely alive. Most definitely. Of course.”

He claws at his upper jaw as more hateful froth drips from between his teeth, finally coming to a halt in front of the desk. It’s fine, grey wood, smooth enough to run a hand over and feel like one had actually touched incredibly refined glass. On it is no less than Ms. Bleu’s nameplate, her average day-to-day paperwork, and a single framed picture of the woman and a few others, dressed in preparation for what might be a day out on the green, or perhaps a day playing tennis.

Blondie picks up this picture frame, turns it around, and waves it in the secretary’s face. “Don’t fuck with me, lady, don’t fuck with me! I’ll fucking destroy this. I’ll destroy everything you’ve ever known! I can burn this whole fucking building down if I wanted!”

To his surprise, she yanks it from his hand and sets it back into its place on her desk, all before folding her hands over her paperwork to keep his dreadful molten flecks from falling onto them. “You have no identification, you stormed up several now near ruined flights of stairs to get to this floor, and you’ve even taken the time to give almost every security guard in the building nothing less than a heart attack. Not to mention, again, you’re claiming to be a dead man whom I have seen very often before, and while you most certainly act like him, you really, really don’t look like him. Like, for instance, the dead man you’re arguing that you are tends to wear clothes when coming to meet with his superiors and isn’t constantly on fire. All that said… I believe you, Blondie.”

He blinks, tone losing its edge for a second as he asks, “Huh? You do?”

“I do,” she replies. “I believe you because to be quite frank, if you were some insane monster you would have killed those guards and probably myself as well, but you haven’t. And this is because as big and scary as you are, you don’t bite the hand that feeds.” Her head tilts.

Blondie snarls, returning to his sour mood as he slams a fist against her desk, denting the perfect wood and warping the area around the contact with heat. “You’d better take that shit back. Don’t you fucking accuse me of being some kinda bitch, just—”

“Sir, even if I do believe you, even if you had identification, even if you didn’t leave a molten pile of trash in the VIP parking and didn’t beat up all of our security, I would not be allowed to let you in.” Her smile widens. “You died, or you didn’t, whichever! All that said, your contract was voided upon your reported death. Again, this means you have none of the security clearance or resources afforded to a Shepherd Acquisitions Officer. This is above my pay grade to fix, and as much as I do so want to help you, I need you to understand that I’m just doing my job.” Venom drips sweetly from each word as they leave her mouth, and Blondie can barely contain himself.

He wants to use her spine as kindling, burn the entire building down with everyone in it just to pick their bones from the ashes, but he can’t. It’s enough to make him roar and punch a nearby pillar jutting up from the floor, an entirely decorative affair meant to put forth the image of power and affluence despite being nowhere near an actual load bearing position or on the ground floor, where most pillars are more snugly placed. “Fuck! Off! Just let me in, you blue wh—”

“If you were to be reinstated by someone above me, of course, I would have to respect that,” Ms. Bleu interjects. “But nothing less than an administrative miracle can help you now. You’d need someone on par with Ms. Hickory or Mr. Gilroy to walk in and wave their hand, and then I’d be more than happy to let you walk on back to Acquisitions. Or you can go through our several week issue logging process…” A grin on her face now, she turns her head toward a box against the far wall, where some papers barely poke out of a small slot in the dead center of its face; across it is a thin layer of dust, conspicuously left despite immaculate cleaning as an administrative warning. “You’d just need to sign all the necessary paperwork to prove you’re you, offer up compelling evidence and several witnesses, plus letters of recommendation, and then give or take some business weeks for us to have somebody in admin look over your claim.”

It knocks the flame out of him. He slumps onto the floor with his head in his hands, groaning rather than growling. “Fuck it! Fine! FINE! Make some calls, damn it!”

“I can do you that courtesy at least.” She clears her throat and, from inside a larger desk drawer she hauls out and sets onto the desk a sizable telephone, a bit larger than her torso and connected by a wire than runs into the desk and down into the building’s overall system, whose writhing mass of horrid wiring is comparable to a pasta dish that’s somehow older than it actually is and also far, far more flammable than it ought to be. “Whom would you like to call?”

“Gimme Penny— no, Penelope Hickory, if I call her Penny she won’t fucking help me.” He’s back up and pacing, burning his prints into the ruined, fractured tiles, sending up the smell of something that somebody’s going to discover is probably very toxic in about three more years.

“Ms. Hickory is unavailable, sir,” Ms. Bleu says. “She’s out.”

“Damn it. Fine, give me Gilroy. Shit.” Now that he’s calmed down, he scratches the back of his neck and growls at the security, who have by this point huddled by the door on the far end of the room, prepared to dart down the stairs if need be.

“Mhmm, as you wish sir.” The digits long memorized, she enters Gilroy’s office number. Not his office back at the main site, but his HQ Office, one of the few given to those of his corporate rank or higher, which more or less acts as a small extension of his horrid realm inside the lair of his superiors. Blondie has a similarly disused and ignored office somewhere on a floor above. Still, with all the latest happenings, Gilroy had been spending an awful lot of time back in the city.

The phone rings, rings, and rings, but there’s no answer. She hangs up. “Would you like me to try his house number, sir?”

Blondie’s rage is starting to boil again. He’s foaming from the corners of his mouth and his eyes are threatening to roll so far up that they’ll do a backflip. “YES.”

She nods and enters this number also, again memorized from an inordinate amount of time playing paper jockey and message courier between the several higher ranked members of the corporation. This time, however, the phone picks up. “Mr. Gilroy? Yes, sir, this is the office. No, sir, we know you’re using your PTO. We wouldn’t be calling if it weren’t important. Mr. Blondie is here— oh.”

“What do you mean, oh? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“He hung up.”

Smoke plumes escape both his nostrils in unison before a tense, uncertain silence enters the room. Then everyone inside with him realizes that he’s starting to shake, and it’s rising in intensity, rising in its own strange, violent way before he raises both fists and is screaming bloody murder at the ceiling as he rises too, hefting himself up only to start stomping against the floor like a frenzied animal. The security guards, then, start running down the stairs and slam the door shut behind themselves.

Ms. Bleu watches as Blondie takes her telephone, rips it off the wire, and then tosses it at top speed through a nearby window before he begins pounding his fists against the already ruined floor. Each throbbing pulse warps the wood and steel underneath the destroyed tiles crack by crack, sending creaks and shudders throughout the room. Bleu sighs, leans back into her chair, and pulls out a small magazine catalogue out from her purse to begin reading. “Sir, do be careful. At this rate you might go straight through the floor.”

“SHUT UP, DAMNIT! FUCK!” He screams, before his fists go clear through a particularly weak section of metal and already burnt wood, taking Blondie to the level below. The force carries him through that one too, but he’s stopped by the sizable, almost comparable bulk of a golemnic office worker on the floor after that. That said, that office worker goes through the floor in his stead while Blondie storms off, but only halfway, so on his path through down to the ground floor the wolf passes what he thinks is some kind of tacky art installation, but is in truth the bleeding, groaning tangle of a stone accountant halfway punched through a spaghetti of metal, wood, and wiring.

At least Blondie knows Gilroy’s home. He knows where that is. When you hate someone this much, it’s hard to forget. The fire likes it when he thinks about what he wants to do to Gilroy. When the fire likes something, Blondie likes it too. It’s warm, comforting in a painful way.

Unfortunately the car is a literal pile of molten metal in the parking lot, so it’ll have to be a jog.

==============================================================

Brie pokes at her poutine, attempting to keep her train of thought straight while Roxanne teases Meat over their current outfit, and how they would’ve looked so cute in those flowery patterns with the glorious weather they’re having. It’s difficult to keep out, but once she blocks it by focusing on fiddling with her gravy-covered, fried potatoes, it’s out for good, and nothing interferes with her internal monologue.

That woman, Piper. She was a Shepherd Gemstone foreman, not an auditor or whatever the formal title is for that particular breed of corporate muscle. She had the dress and the gait of one though, and that’s very concerning. Her attempts at bossing Brie around were somewhat lacking, due to a number of potential reasons. Lack of experience? Lack of willingness? Insecurity due to either or both of these options? It’s hard to say, but she conducted herself as someone on the up-and-up rather than someone who was already on top.

And she asked about the quarry. Those five escapees that Brie is supposed to be tailing. As a part of her job. The job she had been hired to do. Right.

Setting that thought aside, she considers the possibility that Ms. Hickory had replaced her. Piper had no notebook, and certainly seemed unconcerned with the task of keeping track of all the damages. And in her years as a PI, Brie had yet to meet someone who could produce an accurate model of destruction for a city-wide disaster with nothing but their head. Hell, she had hardly met anyone who had lived through such an event in the first place, but here she is, trying to decipher the odd situation in front of her.

The squeak of a cheese curd in her mouth gives her an idea. “Roxanne, how much do you remember about Shepherd Gemstone’s administrative workings, and would you have any understanding as to their protocol when an outside private investigator catalogues an entire city’s worth of damage expenses?” Brie asks, mouth still full of food.

The Medic laughs in amused disgust. “Ms. Brie, please, remember what I said about asking questions with your mouth full.”

“Yes,” she pauses to swallow. “I recall, but this is urgent. How much do you remember—”

“I wasn’t much involved with admin, not even when I was younger. What’s the urgency, dear?”

“I would like to know if I am getting sacked, and whether it will be violent or not,” she says, sticking her fork into her fries. “I have been thinking on the matter, and it is making me concerned for my safety.”

“The city nearly burning down didn’t?” Meat asks.

“Contextually, yes. But currently and specifically, it is making me concerned that my safety is being breached by my own employer, rather than a burning wolf-man.”

Roxanne takes the moment to sip on her iced tea, so spiked with mint that it wafts into the air around her when she lifts the cup to drink it. “Did Piper hit a nerve?”

“Absolutely,” Brie nods, “she was acting as though she was some kind of mercenary. Which, if I recall the definition of the word, is not inclusive to those on the payroll of a company not run by themselves. And the word, in and of itself, tends to have connotations of overconfidence and bravado, both of which she had quite a lot of. I am a technical mercenary, and she is not. And yet...”

“And yet,” Roxanne replies.

“And yet.” Brie pulls another forkful of potato-goop into her mouth to think.

“If she’s after you, that’s a problem,” Meat says, scratching their skull.

“Not a big problem, though.”

“She is many problems. She could, potentially, be my replacement, making her a monetary problem, as it would mean by contract has been voided without my knowledge or consent.”

“And if that’s the case, there’s a good chance she’s also playing hitman,” Roxanne chimes in.

“But there’s no way of telling. Either way, she is most certainly after the same runaways as we are, which makes her competition, and I do not think she will be the friendly kind if push comes to shove.”

Meat leans back in their chair. “What’s the deal?”

“There is no deal to be made,” Brie replies, frowning, “unless there has been a deal made behind my back.”

“That’s not what I meant. What are you thinking?”

“Oh. I recommend we leave Fusillade tomorrow for Pickman’s Hope.”

“Good idea,” they nod. “I think Leslie has his guys looking for me.”

Roxanne raises her eyebrows. “You’re the hero of Fusillade, Meat. Wouldn’t that be bad press for the family?”

“They have ways of making it happen. I vaguely remember something about making people disappear.”

“That’s dirty.”

“Leslie’s a dirty guy, I think.”

“And if you are to be pursuing your quest of stopping Blondie from further destruction, it would be good for you to tag along with us, yes?” Brie asks.

“I thought that was the plan from the start.”

“Was it?”

“Yes, it was,” Roxanne says, patting Meat on the shoulder. “We weren’t gonna leave you here, honey. Don’t you worry.” “I’m not worried. I thought it had been decided.”

“I had not decided on anything,” Brie starts, before realizing that the semantics were not the focus of the conversation. “However, you can assume that I would be okay with it, as you are my friend.”

“That’s sweet, Ms. Brie,” the Medic says, “but before we get sentimental, perhaps we should discuss what to expect while we’re there.”

“What to expect?”

“Do you know what kind of town Pickman’s Hope is?”

“It is a union town, yes?”

“And do you know what kind of employer you’re under contract with?” Brie scrunches her face. “I see.”

“Indeed. We’re going to have to find some mode of hiding it, Ms. Brie, unless you want all three of us barred from town permanently.”

“Hm,” she hums. “I shall take tonight to think of something. It’s not as though I am a known figure or face amongst the corporation, yes? I’m a contractor, and the most I’ve done is collect data on the damages.”

“Your nametag,” Meat points. “It says Shepherd Gemstone. Take it off.”

She raises both eyebrows, and looks down at her lapel. Of course it’s still there. She puts it on every morning, like clockwork. Taking it off would break the pattern she had built, but if it meant not getting herself forcibly removed from the town, she would have to do it. So, she unclips it and sticks it in her breast pocket. After a moment of silence she says, “This feels odd.”

“Not having your nametag on?” Roxanne asks.

“Yes.”

“You’d also better get used to not mentioning the company, unless it’s to trash it. No contrarian talk on that matter, you hear?”

She takes a while to process this. Eventually, she replies, “I do have a few grievances to air.”

“Perfect. Save them for the locals, then,” Roxanne says, standing up from her seat and downing the rest of her mint tea.

==============================================================

When Harry Gilroy opens his front door with a frown, the only surprise that registers in his brain is over the matter of Blondie’s nudity, with a slight bit being from the inexplicable fire crackling away beneath the man’s skin, setting his heavy claws, feet, and bright eyes to glowing a menacing, but aesthetically pleasing red. As a fan of the color himself he almost considers it an upgrade to the old fool he’d become unfortunately used to spending so much time with, though after another brief and silent second thought he realizes he’s still not very enthused to see the man. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I walked it off. Let me in.”

“No, go away. I’m taking the rest of the week off. I don’t talk to dead men or hallucinations. Either way, you’re bringing the property value down just by standing on my front porch.” Gilroy sneers, baring fangs as he moves to close his door, which he had opened only as far as the door chain inside would allow.

Before it closes, however, Blondie’s glowing claws grip the lip of the door and slowly pull it open, even pulling the chain taut and tearing it from the inside of the wall. Harry Gilroy stands there, doorless, in a wine red lounge robe and a pair of cherry colored house slippers. Blondie laughs at him, then shoulders his way inside with his typical swagger as the owner of the house shuffles out of the way of the flaming bulk of condescension and fur.

“Man, I forgot how nice this place is. I’m surprised you can afford this shit on your pay, buddy.” Blondie teases, taking heavy, heated footsteps into the living room, which of course is decorated in a similarly red and and woody fashion to Harry’s office back in Smokestone, which is to say rather tackily and vaguely resembling a middle to high end sports bar someone’s elected to live in. “All this crap and you still can’t score a point on the board.”

“Lovely, sex advice from the dead.” Harry’s face is already pulled into a frown, so it can’t get any worse, but then again his default expression is almost always a frown anyway, so at this point it’s just par for the course. This might as well happen! He might as well be visited by the disgusting, fetid soul of his departed coworker post-draconic barbecue. It’s about on par with all the rest of the irritating nonsense he’s had to deal with thus far. A little further out there, maybe, but nothing outrageously beyond the average irritation. At least the tree-hugging dumbasses whining about magical this and magical that won’t be on his case for this one. Everything from the smallest inconvenience to potentially cataclysmic events in his life earn the exact same reaction: a frown, expensive whiskey in a glass nearly as, if not more, expensive than the drink it holds, and a low, discomforted sigh that trails into a frustrated growl. “I don’t need to be told how to score by someone who appears to have been cleanly handled by somebody’s overzealous barbecue.”

The front door is propped shut amidst grumbles about payment and this and that, which Blondie ignores entirely as he makes after the bar inside Gilroy’s living room, off to the far side of it. Once there, Blondie uncorks a remarkably pricey and obviously imported bottle with a claw, and empties the entirety of its contents into his gullet. In a moment he’s struck by a series of informational bursts of thought which unlock hidden recesses of his mind, as though the simple and outrageously overpriced flavor is familiar enough to tease out knowledge nestled deep inside the ever consuming, mental and metaphysical fire and ash. First and foremost, he recalls that he’s never been a fan of wine.

Secondarily, he’s reminded that it might actually be a good thing he decided to bother Gilroy over this rather than Hickory, because unlike the damage control enthusiast, Gilroy’s the sort of sniveling little bastard he can wring for all he’s worth. Hickory’s a great many things, but manipulable is not one of them, even under threat of violence. After all, she’s a half-decent lycan herself. Not like Gilroy.

“You’re staring into my liquor collection like an idiot, Blondie. If you’re not a hallucination, which this bullshit with my good wine is beginning to make clear, you’re actually here, which means you actually have to talk to me about why the hell you’re barging into my house on my day off and guzzling my drinks.” Harry slams his hands on the countertop to punctuate his statement, and that does manage to get Blondie’s heft to swivel around and face him.

“Right, right. Got a lot on the mind, my sincerest apologies.”

“You don’t think, you just break things.”

“And I’ll break you if you keep this smarmy shit up. Lemme cut to the chase— Harry, I’ve gotta have you or Hickory reinstate me at HQ so I can get my job and my shit back.” Blondie sets his hands on the counter too, making certain they were on either side of Harry’s hands so as to remind the smaller man of the remarkably gulf of power between them. The anticipated reaction to this is something akin to watching a mangy scavenger hiss and back off from a carcass, in the more literal sense Blondie expects Harry to agree wholeheartedly, if begrudgingly, and this would lead into a ride back to HQ and the restoration of his position.

In actuality, Harry Gilroy, the man unremarkable among the remarkable, the simple businessman and lackluster werewolf, laughs in Blondie’s face as though he’s just been told a joke so funny that it demands a smile which pulls his sharp features into a twisted, mirthful grimace and sets his whole body to shaking as he pounds the counter with his fist. It’s a high, peeling laugh like the squeal of a dying pig, Blondie thinks. That’s the sound he thinks of when he hears Harry laugh, dying pigs.

It takes a moment for the dumbstruck Blondie and the near incapacitated Harry to both return to their more typical postures, but it does happen, and after the shorter man wipes a legitimate tear from the corner of one of his eyes, he clears his throat and actually settles into something very strange: a genuine smile. And then he tells Blondie, “No.”

“Excuse me?” Escapes the charred jaws of the dead man. “No?”

“No, Blondie, I’m not going to get your “job and shit back.” I celebrated your death by taking paid time off just to make sure I could drink without worrying over the headache that is replacing you— beyond the paperwork I already helped approve alongside Penny, that is.” Harry’s fingers drum against the countertop as the fearsome, ever dangerous Blondie stares in mounting fury and utter confusion. “Yeah, that’s right, we’ve already got a prospective replacement lined up. Well, the bosses did, not us, but she is one of mine. Unfortunate, but that’s just the way of things, isn’t it?”

“Ex-fucking-cuse you,” Blondie growls, “What you meant to say was “yes, Blondie, of course. Let’s go, we’ll take my car.” Now shut the fuck up and get your keys you little—”

“Bitch.” Harry’s smile widens disquietingly. “No, I said “no” and you’re going to have to respect that, dead man. We aren’t out in the sticks where you can just go and murder people all willy-fucking-nilly, because around here we aren’t a bunch of useless bums pretending we’re worth anything more than the dirt we can haul out of a bunch of sub-standard mines. This is civilization. If you could solve this problem by killing me, or hurting me, you would’ve busted down that door and beat me within an inch of my life, but you can’t. You can’t do that here.”

Gilroy’s grinning as he backs up, turns, and finds himself a place to sit in a large and remarkably cozy looking red velvet and dark wood recliner. “You can’t touch me, especially if you really do want your job back, because this is the one actual place where the only backstabbings that get to happen have to be through red tape and subterfuge unless you’re very, very subtle, and that’s not what you are. You’re not subtle. You’re sudden and unpredictable, yes, but not subtle.”

“So, you’re hiding behind that, huh. Don’t be fucking stupid, Harry. I’m a publicly dead man. The law around here won’t think a dead man killed you.”

As Blondie rounds the counter to close the distance, Harry clears his throat. “That’s true, any crime can be gotten away with if you prepare to cover your tracks. Why, if nobody could see us in here I think you could probably kill me and walk out in broad damned daylight and not get caught because nobody’d accuse the dead guy of killing someone who’s ostensibly his friend. Too bad there are people who can see us right now. You see, Blondie, your main problem is you’re not a team player. More than that, you’re so stuck in your own head you’re too dense to realize the issues with the way you operate, the way you tick. I’ve been waiting a while for this.”

The blazing red eyes narrow at Gilroy, then snap to the windows, where the blinds are down but open to allow in the sunshine. Across the street, just with a quick turn of his head, he spots two glares.

The first is the scope of a rifle, behind which is an unidentifiable humanoid covered head to toe in tactical gear, about average height. The rifle itself, as Blondie identifies with a lightning flash of his synapses, is high quality and the sort of grade used to punch holes in animals like those skitterbears in the wild, comparable to the custom job he’d been carrying around as a pistol for the past many years. It’s not hard to trace the aim, somewhere around his left pectoral, probably hoping for a heart shot or a lung rather than go for the head. This operator wants it to be a killer, but slower than a perforated skull and faster than a bullet through the bowels. Optimized suffering to fatality ratio.

He huffs out smoke. The second glare is from a scoped revolver big enough to crack the wrist of any lesser being that might fire it. Again, something almost on par with his custom job, but just like the rifle he can tell it’s assembly line crap, even if high end. The person with the revolver is neatly hidden inside of a neighbor’s privacy hedge, peering just out between the branches and small leaves, barely visible in identical tactical gear.

The rifleman is settled neatly on top of a house across the street, and Blondie’s certain whoever lives there has no clue there’s a trained killer on top of it. “So. Roof, hedge…”

“There are another two, and you’re not likely to find them.”

“They’re in the house with us.”

Harry chuckles. It’s a strange sound.

Blondie’s eyes feel drawn downward and back behind him, and he realizes there’s a shape where there ought not to be one. Another vaguely humanoid figure, hidden head to toe, near impossible to make out in the shade of a doorway toward what is Gilroy’s walk-in kitchen, the lights out behind them. This one’s holding a shotgun, simple and efficient, another all-black mass production. As if to formally announce its presence, or perhaps just to assert itself as a threat, the figure takes that moment of staring, hidden behind the gear to pump the shotgun.

That means the fourth he can’t even tell the whereabouts of. He counts three, and they’re all easily visible, readily available, but he can’t find the last. One’s at close range, and while a shotgun might not do jack or shit to his flaming hide it’s got stopping power on him, not counting the high caliber ordinance he’s likely to take from the revolver and rifle outside.

He could kill Harry, but he’d have to deal with them too, and by the time he’s managed to kill them he’s certain someone in the neighborhood will have gone screaming for the law, which would only cause him more problems. He lives in this town, after all. He can’t go home if he’s burned it all down.

“What, all those years I spent busting my hump to bring you fucks a comfy, cushy, cowardly life means nothing now?! You owe me, Harry, you all owe me fucking everything.”

Harry Gilroy clears his throat and points toward the exit. “You’re dead, Blondie, and we at Shepherd Gemstone don’t really like bothering with dead weight. You must understand, nobody in this company has any reason to help you. You’re a freak. A burning, monstrous freak, and if I were a worse man I’d have you brought in just like your quarry to be cut open so we can find if there’s anything valuable inside. I’d tell you to go home to your wife and kids, but… You’d just burn them, wouldn’t you?”

The immeasurable rage inside of Blondie in this moment is hotter than even the explosion that put him in this state, but the point is made. Only dignifying Harry with a snarl, the wolf exits the building and begins jogging down the street, trailing half-melted asphalt with each step. Gilroy’s a problem now. Hickory’s one too, if she did approve of whatever replacement they have out and about, and he can’t go back to Janet like this. He has nothing anymore. He’d be out on the street, kicked out by some stupid ex-model. It’s not as though dead people can claim ownership of a building, let alone burning, naked dead people.

Those weaselly little hicks are his only way back in. He drags them in, drops them at the feet of his bosses, he gets a promotion and all his shit back, and then he takes Gilroy and Hickory and all those other disgusting vermin and reminds them who’re the wolves and who’re the sheep.

Inside his house, Harry Gilroy is smiling pleasantly. It’s even more unsettling than the smiles he wore during that conversation, but not one of the three humanoids in full gear would ever admit it to his face or to themselves. They make their way inside, congregating around him as he settles back into a near perpetual frown, a huff escaping him.

“Where’s the fourth?” He asks, roughly. “You told me he’d be here on the phone. We’re lucky he was stupid enough to believe you to be competent enough that the fourth was still in here somewhere.”

“I am,” a voice, muffled by a mask, offers. He’s in the same tactical gear as his companions, and altogether they’re two men and two women, faceless, covered head to toe in the finest available from the Sulfur Solutions urban warfare line, “COBRA.” It’s high quality, available only to the real competent operators, but still factory produced. It lacks the artisanal, homey quality of even the most dangerous, personally made weaponry.

In his hands is a take-out drink tray, in which are set four paper coffee cups with open tops, steaming. Each of his companions take a cup and pull their masks down to begin sipping as he turns toward Gilroy. “I got some coffee on the way.”

“...Of course you did, Jack, of course you did.” Scowling, Harry takes the last cup and takes a few heavy gulps of the steaming, almost entirely black liquid as beneath his mask the man opens his mouth to protest, but elects to instead keep quiet. “You didn’t even make it the way I like. Cute. Whatever. You four know your job?”

“Anything Ms. Piper tells us to do, sir,” one woman says, standing at attention and barking the words hard. Slung on her back is the shotgun. “Acquisition of the five runaways and elimination of loose ends, sir!”

“Yeah, yeah, cool it. Fuck, you’re a loud one.”

The sniper clears his throat then speaks with a low, gravelly voice, asking, “We clear to head up north yet?”

“Yes, you are.” Gilroy sighs as he leans back into his seat. “Make sure to take an unmarked vehicle, not a company car. Those backwater morons don’t like us up there. Oh, and let Piper know there’s soon to be an in-house bounty on that walking corpse.”

“Sir, yes sir!” The shotgunner says harshly, her boots knocking together as she again practically barks it out.

Beside them all, the revolver toting one, the other woman, has been simply spinning the cylinder of her gun while drinking her coffee, and only now does she speak up in a soft voice to ask, “And what’s our protocol on civilian altercations during this job?”

“Why’s that matter?” Gilroy asks in turn, raising a brow.

“In case of unforeseen circumstances.”

His eyes roll. “Don’t tell anyone you work for us and don’t get caught.”

The sniper laughs. So does the woman with her revolver, and the shotgunner. Jack’s slow and nervous to join in, but does so after a moment of realizing this is supposed to be a group thing, one that even Harry partakes in.

Chapter End.

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[ Table of Contents ]

#empty-mask #b&tsm #writing #oc #fantasy #adventure #serialized fiction #b&tsm-blondie #b&tsm-gilroy #b&tsm-brie #b&tsm-roxanne #b&tsm-meat

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xash-guardians · 3 years

Text

Breakfast in the kindred

This is how breakfast would normally look on a calm day

Kaz has always been the first one wake up in mornings, their body alert. The rising sun over their domain hit his face, warm rays highlighting their skin from the the leaves. They left the nest at the bottom of the tree, scratching blonde hair as they yawned; little fangs full of poison showing. Kaz’s steps were quiet, even as they walked through the rainforest domain and stepping though the branches making up the doorway.

The door closed behind them, locking the domain to others as they made through way through the country house. Actually the house itself was not very big, it was mostly used for a common space and entrances to domains. Ash didnt want anyone to feel uncomfortable with lavish places, so she settled with simple and cozy. Which helps a lot of people.

“Good morning Q.” Kaz yawned, greeting the six armed figure in the kitchen. Q’s body was inky black, little white coverings made it look like Q’s skin was glittering with stars. Bright blue eyes that were always flickering and having a smokey effect to it and light purple was pulled back into a bun when he’s cooking. Ash summoned Q and offered Q a place to stay here instead of in hell. At first Q tried to deny and threw a fit because Q didn’t want to be no domestic demon. But now, he always wears his kiss the cook apron and makes sure his children are taking care of.

Kaz shivered as they stood on the cool floor, goosebumps showing on their skin. They’ve always hated cold places, but that’s because of their cold blooded nature. Here. Just the way you like it Kaz, and can you go wake up the others for me?

Q didn’t have a mouth, so he communicated to people through telepathic communications. Kaz nodded, fingers curling around the warm mug with a pleased hiss and taking a sip while walking back into the domains entrances.

The first one they came across was Ash’s. Her door was a simple black one, Kaz stepping inside. Her domain just looking like a bedroom, though Kaz knew this would always shift with however she’s feeling. They were on the downside of that sadly once before, almost falling off a cliff side when she was distraught.

Fabric, papers, and pencils were spread out in the area. Some ritual items and spell books laid in random areas. Her room was a mess and the hybrid in question was hanging off halfway of her bed, bat plushie tucked to her chest. “Ash… Ash, wake up.”

She blinked, black eyes hazily staring at them before the black melted to the soft blue-green. A yawn coming from her while she rubbed her eyes. “Kaz? Why z you down?”

“I’m not, your hanging upside down off the bed.” They understood her sleepy words and answered her question. She yawned again, sitting up and letting her tail stretch out. “W said it’s breakfast time.”

Her eyes sparkled at hearing that, disappearing with a wisp of black smoke. Kaz chuckled, leaving the domain and headed to the door next to hers. It was more of a rocky texture, black but with lines of fire running between the rocks.

This was Kaz’s favorite domain besides their own just because of how warm it is. “Titus!”

They called out, letting the hellhound know he had a visitor. The last thing they wanted was to accidentally get attacked by a hellhound. Titus woke up at hearing the yelling, stretching like a dog on his rock. “Morning Kaz.”

Titus voice was deeper, bouncing around the domain. Kaz couldn’t fight the shiver that ran down their spine. They always were a sucker for deep voices… “Come on you sleepy dog, Q said it’s breakfast time.”

“Ash already awake?” They nodded, Titus making his way out of the room. Kaz stayed in the domain momentarily; knowing the next two domains they hate.

Sea salt stung the back of their throat as they stood on the dock. Toxin green eyes watched carefully in the ocean below, whistling sharply. “You know… I really hate your whistles.”

Ghost complained as he walked out on the doc behind Kaz. The hunter looked back in surprise, thinking that Ghost was in the water. “Q made breakfast. Think you can go get Jack for me? I know I saw some crab cakes.”

Ghost perked at the mention of crab cakes and quickly left the domain to get the winter spirit. That made the hunter feel a lot better. They walked out of the seaside domain quickly, never liking the chill in the air.

“Echo?” Kaz whispered as they opened the door, seeing the spirit beast curled up on on a beanbag. They walked over, records and albums were neatly lined up on the sleeves. Multiple record players were laid out, some skateboards in the corner, Echo sleeping peacefully with the headphones dropped from his head. He set his domain like a bedroom after Ash.

Kaz kneeled down, taking the headphone and putting it over Echo’s head before waking up the spiritual beast. He’s always been extra sensitive to sounds when he wakes up, so Kaz always puts the headphones on his ears for protection. Watching the grey eyes open and tears lightly pool his eyes from remembering his dream, Kaz smiled while rubbing his shoulder. Silently, Kaz signed that breakfast was ready, Echo nodding with a smile and hugged Kaz for a thank you.

Q smiled back at the kindred beginning to make their way into the dining room. Swatting off Jack and Ash away with the spoon to keep them from stealing everything. Ghost taking a crab cake from the counter and humming at the taste. At the end is it, two out of six arms were keeping Ash and Jack back to wait for breakfast like everyone else.

“Mujin; wakey wakey flowers bloom in the sunlight and that means so so you.” Kaz said loudly while throwing open the door. Mujin groaned before tossing the pillow at Kaz, the hunter laugh. “Very royally of you, your highness.”

“I hate you.” Mujin mumbled with a small smile, their banter never meant anything real. All in good nature. There was another groan before someone fell off the bottom bed. “You two are loud.”

“Chiwoo the hell I tell you about staying here? Go away.” Mujin lazily kicked Chiwoo, half asleep and off coordinated. Chiwoo pushed his brother’s leg away, turning over while the dragon tattoo on his cheek highlighted in the sunlight. “Alright you two, breakfast is ready. Don’t care what do just don’t piss off Q by not being there.”

Kaz moved onto the next room, knocking on it before opening it. The domain was an office. “Hey there Percy.”

“Morning time already?”

“Did you stay up all night again?” Percy had a bad habit of doing that, especially when it came to grading papers. He yawned, taking off the glasses and making his way out. “Thanks for getting me Kaz, let’s go eat breakfast. I need some coffee.”

“I need to get Jiung and I’m right behind you.” They explained when they were both in the hallway. Percy nodded and left as Kaz walked to the last door, opening and feeling the fresh air fill his lungs. His favorite domain, besides his own. Jiung immediately noticed the presence, moving his body that was stretching into a handstand before lowering carefully to not get hurt. “G’morning Kaz!”

Jiung chirped, green skin glowing under the sunlight. His teal eyes bright and happy. “What brings you here?? Is breakfast ready?! I gave Q some ingredients that were ready to be harvested in the garden this morning.”

Kaz nodded with a chuckle. Jiung’s always been a ball of sunshine, no matter where he is or what time it is. “Ah! I’m excited! He promised me he would make me an omelet this morning, let’s go!”

They made their way out as Itto was dragging Xiao inside through the back door of the country house by the back his shirt. Xiao was complaining the whole way while Itto laughed. “Maybe if you eat then you won’t be as short!”

“You-! I swear when I!” Xiao continued yelling at Itto while getting dragged to the table. One night sky arm slammed against the table, making Xiao shut his yelling as Q said, it’s gonna to be a peaceful morning. Got it?

Xiao nodded while Ash looked at the table in awe. “It looks wonderfully as usual Q! Thanks!”

Q ruffled her hair as he watched his children eating breakfast with a proud look. He atoned to each of their taste or diets.

Ash would eat anything but mostly likes things with rice. Titus wants meats. Gui is eating small portions and likes hints of tuna mixed in, but not overbearing. Ghost favorite is crab cakes but will eat any seafood. Jack likes cold food, especially yogurts and parfaits. Echo is a vegetarian so he sticks with fruits and vegetables. Mujin is like Ash, he’ll eat about anything as long as it’s edible while Chiwoo making his random appearances wants what only looks to be finest things. He’s a brat. Percy likes filling foods, pasta or rice, something that’ll keep him full longer. Jiung’s favorite food has become eggs and now seeing his reaction, looks like he’s enjoying the omlet. Itto is another meat lover, he rivals Titus’ appetite while Xiao eats less and would rather his tofu then anything.

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mitamicah · 4 years

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Spoilers from both Trollhunters the book and Trollhunters the series!

While reading the book I was really impressed with how many differences there were between the character so I have worked on giving my take on six characters from both media, book vs series, and how they differ from each other :3

I should mention that while there was illustrations in the book I tried for the challenge not to copy those but follow along the describtions in the book - when possible - to give my own interpretation of the characters ^v^

Steve

First up we have Steve. Starting out as the stereotypical bully in both version their paths seperates quickly resulting in two different ending for the musuclar blond Jorgensen-Warner is the book version of Steve. Here's how he is described from our first encounter with him: "He was handsome but in the oddest way- He eyes were too small and his nose piggish: he had a ridiculous amount of hair and a couple of teeth that looked like fangs. Yet somehow in combination these features were sort of mesmerising. His unnatural muscular bulk and odd way of speaking -crisply, politely, as if he were a foreign student who had learned English in class - completed the strange package." page 21-22 For his outfit I went with the description of him on page 224 "[my clothes] ... didn't cast me in the best light when compared to Steve Jorgensen-Warner, who looked rather rakish in blue jeans and a shirt - definitely not a blouse - opened to the third button. He dribbled the ball casually with his left hand." The bold passages is added by me This Steve is later revealed to be a changeling aka a troll Before we go on: can any of you explain to me what a "ridiculous amount of hair" even means :'D? I had a lot of trouble with this prompt because isn't this so darn subjective :'D? and the official art look way less ridiculous than I'd figure it'll be :'D x'D Palchuk is the series version of Steve. His facial appearance being way less specific (I'd say he has normal sized eyes, a big roman nose and some more or less normal teeth) and his way of speaking is definitely not polite. Like book Steve, this Steve starts out with pushing smaller guys into lockerrooms yet after that he becomes way less of a terrifying bully and much more of a silly goose who brings a lot of the comic relief in my opinion Douxie says it best in Wizards when he calls Steve the "village idiot" x'D I do not recall seeing Steve being that sporty in the show, he is much more interested in becoming homecoming king no basketballs around x'D While book Steve is revealed to be the enemy (a troll) series Steve joins the "good guys" creating the creepslayerz with the character Eli Pepperjack

Blinky

Blinky is just called Blinky in the book Here's a bit of description of him "The third [troll] had scarlet eyes, eight of them on long stems. (...) The thing from my house glided toward me with a surprising grace for something with an indetermined number of legs, all of which were hidden behind a patched kilt scaled with layers of medals, prizes and trophies and award ribbons. An incalculable tangle of tentacles twined around one another as if dying to squeese something to death. As it passed the oven, the firelight revealed olive-green skin, reptilian texture, and lacquer of slime lubricating its undulating appendages Its moth a horizontal gash.. " The bold passages is added by me So yeah this Blinky is quite something :'D I stopped caring to draw tentacles after a while but overall this was silly but fun to draw since his teeth later is described as big as traffic cones I believe he must be very tall :'D Also he's close to blind Has a bit of a dirty mouth but in a very "read" way if it makes sense :'D cannot seem to stop calling Jim dimwitted and tiny and Tobias big :'D Blinky's full name in the series is Blinkus Galadrigal he has six eyes instead of eight and they are all working just fine, thank you very much x'D His tons of tentacles and legs has been replaced by four arms and two legs and while he is still olive-green he is now made of tone like texture just like the other trolls the kilt turned into shorts and he is quite a bit smaller now not even as tall as Jim He still has this very academic way of speaking yet he is way nicer to Jim calling him "Master Jim" instead of "the short one" x'D

ARRRGH!!!

Book ARRGHHH!!!s full name is Johannah Mmmm ARRRGH!!! and she is a pretty big deal warrior among the trolls in the book - she's so badass in fact Blinky has decided to call her by her last name to honor her for her deeds for trollkind Here's a qoute from the book describing her appearance "The goliath emerged from the tunnel as comfortably as a dog from a doghouse, coarse black fur pouring into the chamber before I could make out any actual arms or legs (...) Even beneath the fur I could see loops of muscles flexing. (...) ARRRGH!!! was built like a gorilla but three times larger: Two arms, two legs, and, thankfully, just two eyes. Horns, curled like those of a ram (...) The thing's orange eyes cast about with animal perceptiveness, and it used its snout and sniffed. Its jaws fell open to reveal a purple, slavering mouth armed with haphazard daggers of teeth." Page 75-76 The bold passages is added by me (Also worth mentioning: the qoute is from before the protagonist knows of ARRRGH!!!'s gender which is why he calls her an 'it') At other times in the story we learn that ARRRGH! has quite scarred arms and really wishes for better tooth hygeine; so much so that Tobias actually end up making her a brace out of chicken wire :'D Idk I find it quite adorable :'D Now unto the serie's ARRRGH!!! - first up he is male, his name is Arghaumont and he is famous for another reason than Johannah: he was a general of Gunmar but retreated from the war making him a traitor to his people yet a hero for the good trolls in the series. Series ARRRGH!!! is likewise built like a gorilla but made of stone and having a mane long and green like it is moss his horns is way smaller and less curvy and his teeth hygeine is never brought up also his face is way less dog like x'D

Tobias

Book Tobias' full name is Tobias M. Dershowitz yet he is going by 'Tubby' or 'Tub'. Here is a describtion of him from the book: "You could call Tobias Dershowitz chubby, if you were being cute, or husky if you were being diplomatic. The fact is he was fat, and that was only the beginning of his problems. His hair was a thick, orange, out-of-control hedge. His face spilled over with the kind of freckles that make kids like Tub look like overgrown toddlers. Worst of all were his braces, marvels of modern torment: whips of stainless steel crisscrossing each tooth seperately and lashed to a dozen silver fasteners. The braces clicked so much when he spoke, you expected sparks. At least he was tall..." page 27 The bold passages is added by me The outfit I went with is described on page 259 like this: "He stood in the driveway decked out in his best approximation of a ninja: black tennis shoes, black sweatpants, a black hoodie, a belt made from a red curtain sash, and an oversize fanny pack holding his gear (...) It was unfortunate that the fanny pack was lime green..." To describe Tub is a bit difficult because sadly he is not much in the story as I'd liked - mostly he is being quite serious and let us know he is not happy by being sidelined not speaking troll nor being invited on hunts which I completely understand tbh :'D What I do find interesting is how Tub and series Jim has seem to have switched roles a little bit: In the series Jim is the one giving a speech about how he is insecure about his place in life and how he wants more - in the book this is Tub in more than one occassion: "We have to accept who we are. And before you ask, I'll tell you. We're nobody. We have no life. We have nothing to look forward to. We're not special. I just want it to go away. All of it. The stupid being scared. Doesn't it seem we've been scared forever?" page 37 "Jim, you're wrong. We were meant to do this. This is exactly what we've been waiting for. They've chosen us. Of all people! Us! (...) Jesus, Jim, take a look at my life! You know what I'm worth! To anyone? Zero! Nothing! I'm a fat loser and will always be a fat loser. Until this. This is like a present. Full of, man, I don't know. Hope?..." page 196 (talking about trollhunting here btw) Oh yeah and book Tobias gets this badass scene where he uses his dentist's tool to kill trolls I loved that Now series Tobias is way different :'D first up his name is Tobias Domzalski and his nicknames are Toby and Tobes. He is way shorter and has more neat hair (what is it with the series neating up the hair :'D? x'D). He also seems way cheerier and pretty happy with his place in life more or less Unlike Tub, Toby is in it from the start being an important player in the story He doesn't have the same drive to be something more than he is as Tub has instead Toby is going with the flow starting out quite afraid of everything troll and ended up being as brave as the rest of the team *tbh Jim's scared out of his wits too so they mimic each other x'D* Where Tub has dentist tools Toby gets a badass hammer so I'll say its an upgrade

Claire

First off we have Claire Fontaine, a foreign student from no other than Scotland with a taste for military clothing and liqourice Here's how she's described in the book "She tucked her long dark hair behind her ear and left ir with an adorable smudge of white dust. I thought she was beautiful, though she wasn't in the classic sense. The popular girl would say she wasn't skinny enough. They would also point to the fact that she didn't wear makeup or do anything to tame that hair. And her clothes -well, what could be said about her clothes? Her boots were not sexy and knee-high: in fact, they were ankle-high and rubber-soled and looked picked from military surplus racks, an array of pea-green coats and multi-coloured slacks, all of which looked as if they'd been through actual World War II combat. And that beret she wore before and after school wasn't of the look-at-me-I'm Frensh variety: it was more in the style of I'm-going-to-invade-your-country-and-be-your-new-dictator. Only one thing didn't make sense: that bright pink, exceedingly girlish backpack that inexplicably hadn't one anti-establidh patch sewn onto it (...) Oh, I forgot to mention that Claire Fontain came from the UK. That's right- the girl had an accent. I think you are starting to get the picture." page 30-1 The bold passages is added by me It is hinted at that Claire is quite tall and a great deal taller than Jim (more when I get to him) and she is actually a whole year older than Jim since they both have birthday May 2 but Claire is 16 while Jim is 15 Since Trollhunters in this story is not a "protected title" (aka the chosen hero type) Claire ends up being one herself even though nobody even herself didn't know: AND. SHE. KICKS. BUTT! She's even better than the guy that had 40+ years experience so yeah safe to say she's badass :'D Even before that she has a hilarious scene calling out Steve in the wildest shitstorm of Scottish slang I lived for it x'D She's described quite a few times with lots of bracelets, sometimes made of wire so I gave her a bit of both She's not really a part of the popular group but has her own thing going on Now onto Claire Nuñez the series' version of this badass Here Claire is hispanic and pretty much one of the most popular girls seen around her style is way more ... I've called it punk rock in purple but Idk exactly what to call it x'D she's shorter than Jim and slimmer looking than her book counterpart She enters the story not as a trollhunter but as a victim of having her brother stolen by changelings and as time progresses she becomes a fastlearning and quite competent sorcerer dealing in shadow magic Unlike Fontaine, Nuñes is seen wearing make up, shorter hair with dye in it and hair clips instead of bracelets

Jim

First up we have book Jim. His full name is James Sturges Jr. and lives with his single parent, his dad, after his mother went away the day before his birthday in start May and never returned. Sturges Sr. had been traumatized loosing his brother to trolls although none of the characters didn't know this yet - only Senior had seen the creatures making him paranoid and in turn making Jim very embarrased about his father. At the same time Jim seems to honestly worry for his father and his behavior too makes Jim very cautious and fearful a character. Book Jim is pretty much a typical teenager for the most part He is seen to be a tad clumsy and not exactly brave really. And the author's choice of basically not describing him anywhere made my job way harder trying to be book accurate :'D So I've mostly inspired him of the official illustrations in the book Here's what I could find about our little trollhunter First off: he's a short fellow that is first mentioned on page 14; "Sunshine is important for growing boys." (...) "I am not growing" I took after my dad when it came to size and was still waiting for that growth spurt everyone kept raving about. "In fact I think I'm shrinking." This is brought up most of everything Jim through the movie from him not being able to reach a point of a chalkboard (page 32) to people's dissapointing sighs taking meassurements when he is chosen as Romeo (107) and him wearing super high heels for the same reason (224) but also Blinky directly calling him a "little fellow" (page 127) On page 27 we learn that he is getting a bruise on his chin after being slammed into his locker by Steve Lockers he has been thrown into enough to have learned to open them on the inside :'D He is a skinny fella which Tobias so politely call "lack of muscletone" due to "glandular" at page 120 He is not very good at anything describing his room full of stuff from hobbies he tried and failed at (page 63) The longest describtion about his appearance is probably page 105: "I lowered my eyes and regarded the chewed, dirty fingernails holding my script, thes scuffed shoes on my feet, and realized that these were the symbols of my pityful life: worn-out, insignificant, ready to be thrown beneath Dad's industrial mower" It pretty much says it all when this is the longest quite I could find :'D For the outfit I mostly went by the small describtion on page 89-90: "I tucked the medallion beneath my shirt. After a full day of wearing it, maybe the rest of the suffocating fear would go away too. My plan was to dart into the kitchen, grab my sweatshirt and be out of the house. " I added jeans since he is said to wear jeans on page 283 - the medallion sneak out beneath the sweatshirt/shirt on page 97 which is why I added it on top here as well Now since there's a bit more to both versions of Jim due to their role as the protagonist I've added in a little extra features here being the medallion in the book vs the amulet in the series and the weaponry given to the characters For Sturges we have the medallion who's described like this: "It was a bronze medallion conntected to a rusty chain. It was engraved with a foreboding crest: a hideous, snarling face; indecipherable markings of a sevage language, and a magnificent long-sword across the bottom." page 9 The medallion is treated like it is a common artefact if a bit rare in the book - its purpose is to translate trollspeak for the wearer. Jim is giving two swords in the book; a rusty longsword he calls Clairesword (do I need to explain this one?) and a cutlass he calls Cat #6 after the one cat at Tobias' house that liked Jim x'D For Sturges' personality my feeling about him is that he is a bit more ... passive than his series counterpart. He is not really standing up for himself that much and would rather blend into the background. This qoute from Claire sums him up pretty nicely I believe "You're a good person, Mr. Sturges. A bit gloomy, but good" page 246 I do like that Jim in this version is a Taurus (I am a taurus too x'D) born on May 2nd so that's a plus It is probably also worth mentioning that in this world trollhunters aren't a chosen hero type like in the series: trollhunters or paladin was once a title held by many warriors yet now there's very few left. Sturges was a proud paladin family making Jim a chosen candidate for the honor of becoming a trollhunter but he is not the only one - or even the best - in the book. In fact out of the three trollhunters we learn about I'll say Jim is the weakest (and he is not even the least trained; ouch :'D) Jim doesn't get a nice armour like his series counterpart either but is seen in the illustrations wearing a blue hoodie (like the one in the little doodle) The full name of Jim in the series is James Lake Jr. He is the child of a single parent and lives with his mother whom Jim "mothers a lot" (Tobias' words in the first episode) This Jim is pretty "tall for his age" (Jim's own words uttered quite a few times across all three series) yet with quite skinny legs (he is called out for this by multiple characters). He is much more competent in life than his book counterpart being an exceptional cook, good at Spanish, seemingly alright in PE and at school he seems to stand pretty good if only holding himself back. Unlike book Jim, series Jim seems much more active and longing to be something more than he is - he is seen to be quite brave and protective of his friends, very kind and selfless. Also even from the start he seems much more nimble than his book counterpart being able to climb the robe (a feat book Jim didn't do before later) and with his training as trollhunter he becomes even more badass Trollhunter status in the series is way more important since the title is given to only one chosen warrior of Merlin chosen by the amulet of daylight (the medallion in the book). This also makes the amulet way more special and important in the series which probably explains its shine up from rusty bronze thing to silver and blue. While Lake Jr doesn't have named sword he does have a magical armour and sword made of daylight We do not know the exact birthday of Lake Jr but the creators have replied to a fanquestion saying it would be around fall especially October so by that estimate Jim is probably a scorpio pretty far from the before mentioned taurus in the book While Jim Lake Jr isn't seen with long lasting bruises in the original series he does get two more permanent scars in Wizards

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darlingpetao3 · 3 years

Text

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 5)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

Tag List: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly @disneyoncerlover815 @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap @noctvrnalmoth @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3 @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos @arianalilyblack @sonnensplitter @imagine-yourself-happy @stuckysdaughter

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4

“Honeyyyyyyys…?” you call out in the house. Naturally, four handsome men come running.

“What’s happening?” Nash, in his jean shorts and Hawaiian themed shirt, asks you urgently.

“What’s happening is I am the worst mother ever!” you yell. Cue four sweet and simultaneous denials of your belief. “But I am—I can’t find the twins!”

How can someone lose two tiny babies? You had only looked away for thirty seconds and poof—Liberty and Belle were gone! They couldn’t even so much as crawl yet!

“Everyone, spread out,” a suspenders-wearing H.R. conducts the family, “they can’t have gone far.”

Harry moves closer to you to rub your back with small circles. “It’s going to be okay. You’re a wonderful mother. We just have a couple of troublemakers on our hands, it seems.”

You give a slight nod and begin to scour every place you haven’t already checked in the house. Everything is going to be fine, everything is going to be fine…

A pair of foreign giggles come from the closet by the alcove. How strange. You follow the sounds, and sometimes you’ll hear a “Shhhhh!” followed by more snickering. When you open the door to the closet, you’re entirely shocked to find two little girls who look to be five years old—one in overalls and the other in a dress.

“Libby, Libby, Libby! I told you to be quiet!” Belle scolds her sister.

“But your hair was tickling my face!” Liberty tries to explain.

Meanwhile, you’re still stunned to see your babies have grown in such a short amount of time. It really should be such a surprise considering the shortness of the pregnancy, but still!

You try to find your voice by beckoning your husbands. “I-I found them!”

“Hi, mommyyyyy,” they say in such adorable unison. Their perfect little faces look up at you and you feel like you’re staring into a mirror-time-portal. You crouch down and open your arms.

“I was so worried,” you tell the girls. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Sherloque, H.R., Harry, and Nash soon appear behind you and gawk at their rapidly aged daughters.

“How are they five?” H.R. whispers his question to no one and anyone.

“A very good question…” Sherloque, in his white trousers and blazers with a sharp purple shirt underneath, strokes his chin.

You wipe a tear from your eye and clear your throat. “Why don’t you two hooligans help your Pops with something in the garage?”

“You got it, dude!” Belle shoots you adorable finger guns before grabbing her sister’s and Nash’s hand. And then, in a flash, they’re gone. Indeed so quick that your voluminous hair flies every which way—books and papers suddenly strewn all over the house.

“Did Belle just…?” Harry starts to ask but falters.

“Run Mach one in my house? Yeah, I think she did…” you reply, figuratively and almost literally blown away. “Oh!”

H.R. holds your hand in comfort at the sound of your weepy noise. “What is it, Honey Bear?”

“I can’t believe it. I missed their first steps, their first words. So many firsts. They’re five!”

“There will be plenty more firsts that we won’t miss,” Harry soothes, “together.”

“If ma Belle ‘as the ability to run vitement,” Sherloque wonders to the rest of you, “what does this mean pour ma Liberté?”

This makes you think—remember things that you’d rather not remember. But, what if…?

You take quick strides towards the garage through the kitchen, your remaining husbands following closely behind. Peering out the window, you spot Liberty using her glowing purple hands to float a socket wrench over to Nash from his toolbox. His eyes are wide, but happily so, at the magic presented by his daughter.

“Little chips off the old block, aren’t they?” H.R. notes, putting an arm around your shoulders and Harry’s (the latter picks up and drops his doppelganger’s arm off of him).

“Yes, I suppose they are.” You sigh in contentment. “What do you three say to a little quiet time on the couch?”

The men don’t even need to voice their approval of the idea, only follow you devotedly out of the kitchen. Sherloque pulls up the rear but stops short at the refrigerator. The appliance is strangely already covered in artwork, with barely any free space available on the appliance. And then… there’s something else that sticks out amongst the vibrantly coloured scribbles.

He leans in a little closer to inspect a piece of paper. Sherloque notes the hurried scrawl of the letters:

You’re on a TV show. This isn’t real. We’re trying to help you.

The puzzled detective continues to analyze the strange message. What does this mean? he wonders.

He tries his best to remember what his life was like before he married you. What was life like? It takes every ounce of brainpower to attempt the recollection, but Sherloque unfortunately comes up short with answers.

Something he is both not known for and hates.

He checks around the room to see if anyone is watching him, but no one is in sight. Regardless of his lack of findings, he waves in the direction of one of the kitchen walls as if someone was watching. Sherloque then marches into the living room where you’re snuggled up with Harry and H.R.

“What is this?” he demands of you, flashing the note in front of your face. You, of course, have no idea and voice as such.

Harry snatches the piece of paper and proceeds to study it. “This is a joke, right?”

“I think someone must be playing a prank on you, my love,” you tell your suspicious French husband.

“And I think you are lying to us, ma petite,” he replies. Sherloque turns his attention to the other men on the couch. “Dites-moi, what is your earliest memory?”

Harry and H.R.’s foreheads scrunch in thought.

“The first thing I ever remember is showing up here for dinner a few nights ago,” H.R. says slowly. “But it feels much quicker than only a couple of nights…”

“And you, (Y/N),” Harry adds, “I feel like I’ve known you my entire life, and yet my first memory was the same as this jackwagon.”

“Aww, Harry, I feel like I’ve known you my entire life too,” you say sweetly. “All of you!”

Sherloque squints at you. “Stop that. You are hiding something. Eet is the way you swallow with difficulty and perspire. Aussi the tapping of your foot.”

“I am not hiding any-”

“-You lie!” Sherloque raises his voice. H.R. and Harry stand up from the couch and face you with crossed arms, pulling his blue plaid shirt tighter against his chest.

“Is it true?” H.R. asks you, looking ever so much like a puppy dog. It pains you to see him look so hurt. They both seem to take Sherloque’s word for it. And over yours?

“Is any of this real?” Harry finishes his opposite-self’s question, then points in the direction of the garage. “Are they real?”

“Of course our daughters are real!” you find yourself shouting at the notion otherwise. “They’re parts of us!”

“Then what have you done to our memories? You’re keeping secrets!”

At this point, Nash enters the room with Liberty and Belle, clearly not expecting an argument from their idyllic family unit. His hands on their shoulders. They must have heard the fighting…

“Listen,” you try calmly, “I did this for us. You don’t want to know what happened before our lives together here. You just don’t.”

“You do not get to choose for us,” Sherloque counters sternly.

The tension can be cut with a knife, and the proverbial knife that does the cutting comes in the form of a sound—the doorbell.

“Who is that, (Y/N)?” Harry asks you.

“I don’t know. That’s not me, I swear it,” you tell him, very much confused yourself. Each of your husbands stands with their arms still crossed, waiting. It hurts you to see them so upset with you. This was supposed to be perfect. This was supposed to be easy.

Your feet that feel like lead somehow manage to carry you over to the door. Twisting the doorknob, you open the door to reveal another extremely familiar face…

“How’s it hangin’, Miss (Y/L/N).”

What? No… It can’t be him?

Looking the epitome of cool—dressed in stone washed jeans, a yellow button-down shirt with a black leather jacket thrown over top—stands the man you never thought you’d see again. Especially in your own safe little world.

Eobard Thawne.

The man walks right in the house like he owns the place with an incredible amount of swagger.

“So, what’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?”

#reader insert #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imgaine #harrison wells fanfiction #harry wells x reader #harry wells imagine #nash wells x reader #nash wells imagine #sherloque wells x reader #sherloque wells imagine #hr wells x reader #hr wells imagine #the flash imagine #the flash fanfiction

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justanotherteentitansblog · 3 years

Text

Bbrae Week 21 Day 6 Fantasy

The sky had turned twilight orange and blue and the air was cool and crisp. The brave knight known only as Mavis the Formidable had just taken off her armor after a long battle with the dreaded 3 headed tiger, Cereberus. The knight needed rest for tomorrow was another day of full of many battles to be fought and only she was strong enough to keep her kingdom safe-

“Mavis!” the girl’s emerald-skinned older sister had popped her head into her room, “Mom says she wants you to…. What are you doing?”

The purple-haired 4 year old was balanced precariously on the top of her headboard facing the window. A blue towel was tied around her shoulders and her fists were confidently placed at her hips.

Mavis narrowed her eyes at her older sister, “I’m playing knights,Phoenix. Duh!” she said, sticking her tongue out at her.

The 10 year old nodded her head at her sister’s antics “Right...anyway mom wanted me to come get you to see--”

Mavis jumped off the bed and ran towards her sister, arms waving in excitement as she interrupted her, “Wait, wait, you can be the wizard who helps me fight Cereberus the 3 headed Tiger! Come on, put this on,'' She shouted running to grab one of her mother’s old cloaks she let her use to play pretend.

“OK, A, I’m telling mom you’re fighting the cat again.”

“NNNOOOo!” Mavis whined.

“And B, why would I be the wizard when you’re the one with psychic powers?”

“BeCAUSE, Phoenix! I have the magical sword!” Mavis spit, pulling a stick she found from the backyard behind her back. In a flash, Phoenix’s hand whipped out towards the stick and snatched it from her younger sister. “Now ya don’t,” she teased, morphing into a puppy and running down the stairs with the stick in her mouth.

Mavis screeched and launched herself down the stairs after her sister. “Giveitbackgiveitbackgiveitback!”

When Phoenix reached the bottom of the stairs, a tall green man snatched up the green puppy from the ground mid-run and ripped the stick from her mouth. The guilty changeling morphed back into a 10 year old in her father's arms and gave him a look that would melt anyone else’s heart on contact. Garfield rolled his eyes at his daughter.

“You can’t get me with the puppy dog eyes, Phoenix. I invented them.”

At that moment, Mavis had arrived at the bottom of the stairs where her father stood holding her older sister by the waist in one arm and the stick in his left hand. The impatient girl started jumping up and down at the stick just slightly out of her reach.

“Dad! Dad! My Sword!”

Gar looked at this hand and then at his child and a slow smile crept over his face.

“Ah Mavis the Formidable, I believe this belongs to you,” he said, handing her the stick.

“Thank you, kind sir,” turning to stick her tongue out at Phoenix.

Just then, the girls’ mother came up from the stairs to the basement with a sour look on her face as she approached her children.

“Mavis, would you like to explain why I just had to untie the cat from the radiator in the basement?”

She turned to Phoenix, “Or would you like to explain why I asked you to see if your sister wanted to go to the tower with you and Dad, and I instead hear her screaming at the top of her lungs? Should I even mention the fact that I specifically told you no morphing in the house, and you, no sticks longer than your arm in the house.” She scolded both of her children with equal intensity.

Gar looked at his wife, “You told her no sticks?”

“Only her arm’s length-long, after what happened this morning.” Raven said, pulling her hair up to show her husband the welt on the back of her neck. Mavis had been practicing wielding her “Sword” while Raven was trying to fold laundry that morning.

“Well that’s an easy fix” he said, pulling the stick back out of Mavis’s hand and snapping it in half, making it an arms length.

“MY SWORD!” the girl wailed.

Gar stared at Mavis in the eyes and warned, “You could have no sword at all. Now the both of you need to apologize to your mother!”

Both girls sighed, and rolled their eyes, “Sorry Mom,” they said in unison.

Raven sighed and recollected herself. Other than poor Cerberus getting tortured, most of what they were doing was not a big deal, but Raven would have to have ANOTHER talk with Mavis about including live animals into her pretend games.

Raven looked at her girls. Phoenix who was green and lanky like her father but otherwise had her mother’s face. She had thick green hair that was always pulled into a ponytail with a heavy bang that covered the matching chakra she shared with her mother. While Mavis had her pale skin and wild purple hair that stuck out all over the place complete with her father’s smile and ears. They were going to be the absolute death of her.

Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at her younger daughter. “Phoenix is going to the tower to train with Dad. Do you want to come with them or stay at home?”

Mavis wrinkled her nose in thought, “Will Mar’i be at the tower?”

“ I don’t know, I can find out and if not we can see about going to Aunt Kori’s if you don’t want to go to the tower.”

“OK! I just want to play with Mar’i”

Raven went to make the phone call, while Gar rushed Phoenix upstairs to get dressed for training exercises. Mavis the Formidable, however, had decided it was time to visit the Witches' Den. It was time to make potions.

Mavis the Formidable had visited the Witches’ Den many a time to create potions to take on her amazing quests, but everytime she had gotten found herself caught and placed onto the chair of eternity. The witch in charge of the den had warned Mavis that the items in this room were not to be trifled with, but Mavis knew she was a strong warrior and wise enough to correctly use any potion within these ancient walls all on her own. Mavis reached up to grab a glass bottle with pink sand and--

“If you touch that, you can forget about going to see Aunt Kori and Mar’i.”

Mavis wilted as her mother approached her. She never let her play in the meditation room and everything in there looked so cool!

“But MOM, I need to make potions or I can’t fight the dragons!”

Raven sighed but then smirked at her daughter's active imagination.

“Oh well why didn’t you just say so, Mavis the Formidable.”

Raven grabbed an empty orb shaped bottle and poured a clear liquid from another bottle inside, the pink sand Mavis had originally reached for, three small black stones and a powder that made it shimmer when it was shaken.

“There, one dragon slaying potion. Don’t drop it” she said with a wink.

“Thank you, kind witch” she said, giving her mom a hug.

Raven narrowed her eyes at her daughter, “You’re pushing it.”

Mavis quickly corrected herself, “Thank you, Mommy.”

“Mmhhmm, you wanna go to Aunt Kori’s then?”

“Can we teleport there?” Mavis begged.

“Mavis, the last time we teleported anywhere you wouldn’t stop crying for half an hour and wouldn’t sleep in your own bed for a week.”

Mavis crossed her arms and began pouting “Well you wouldn’t turn on the light inside the portal”

“Mavis, for the last time, there is no light inside mommy’s magic, it’s all--I’m not having this argument again. If you want to go, get your shoes on, we’re driving there.”

Mavis pouted for a moment and then looked up at her mother through her eyelashes.

“Can I wear my rain boots?”

“If you dress yourself, you are welcome to wear whatever you want.”

“OK!” Mavis shouted, bolting up the stairs, dragon potion in hand.

Upon arriving at Kori’s, Mavis impatiently unbuckled herself from the carseat and began whining as her mother was taking too long to help her out of the seat.

“Hold on, Mavis, let me get my bearings,” she said as she helped the girl out of the car.

Kori was standing by the front door waving them in when Mavis went racing past her into the house, “HiAuntKoribyeAuntKori!” she shouted behind her.

Kori chuckled at the sight while Raven rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Awesome manners, kid. You’d think nobody taught you them.” She deadpanned in the direction her child ran.

Kori shook her head in bemusement, “How do you keep up with that one?”

Raven scoffed, “You think I keep up with her?”

Mavis tore through the house looking for her friend, finally she spotted Mar’i through the sliding glass door to the backyard, swinging on a rope swing. Mavis attempted to move the door but it was locked. She pushed and pulled and scrambled up hanging on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Slowly, Raven came walking behind her child and quietly unlocked the door while Mavis was still hanging onto the handle. At the first sign of her new found freedom, Mavis threw open the glass door and raced across the patio to her friend.

Upon seeing Mavis, Mar’i jumped off the swing and ran to meet her. They two girls embraced each other tightly until Mar’i tackled them both to the ground, causing both girls to start giggling.

Raven and Kori walked out to the patio to halfway supervise the girls but mostly to catch up and chat.

Before the girls could get up and start playing, Raven called out a warning, “If you get hurt doing something stupid or something you’re not supposed to do, I’m not using any healing powers on either of you.”

Mavis rolled her eyes at her mother while Mar’i simply nodded in agreement. “OK!”

Mavis turned to Mar’i excitement coloring her face, “Mar’i guess what I have?” she asked, holding the bottle her mother gave her behind her back.

“What? What is it?”

Mavis proudly showed off the potion her mother made, “It’s dragon slaying poison, do you wanna fight the dragon with me?”

Mar’i looked into the bottle's contents and swirled it around. “Are you sure, this is dragon poison? It looks like water and pink sand.”

“Of course it’s dragon poison! My mom made it and my mom makes all kinds of stuff like this!”

Mar’i shrugged her shoulders, “OK, can I be the princess this time?”

“Sure!” Mavis shrugged back and went to find a new sword stick.

After finding a stick much longer than her arm, getting scolded by her mother, and then finding a much smaller stick, the heroes set off on their adventure.

The two adventurers had set off on a most gruesome task. A great dragon had taken over the nearby village and stolen all their resources. The village's only hope was now Mavis the Formidable and Princess Mar’i. Mavis only armed with her sword and her dragon slaying potion, and Mar’i with her flight and starbo--

“Hey wait a minute, why do you get to use your powers?! Mom, why does Mar’i get to use her powers?” She shouted running towards her mother.

“Mar’i’s powers work differently than yours do, she can use hers without hurting anyone, which is something you can’t quite do yet.”

Mavis stomped her foot and tears formed in her eyes,”That’s not fair, I want these off.” She shoved the silver cuffs that contained her power in Raven’s face.

Raven put a calm hand to her daughter’s hands and lowered them away from her face, “Your sister had to wear them until she was 6, and even then she only had them off for a few hours at a time. I’m sorry Mavis, but they’re there to keep you and everyone else safe.” This was a very rehearsed and familiar conversation Raven had practiced from years of dealing with the subject with Phoenix, who beforehand would turn into any animal she thought of with no control over it at all.

It was very clear to everyone that Mavis was about to have a meltdown before Mar’i interrupted, “That’s ok! I just won’t use my powers!”

Mavis sniffed, “Really?”

“Yeah of course! I might fly on accident though, cause when I’m really happy, I fly.”

Mavis rubbed her eyes, “That’s OK, you can fly us to the dragon!” Mavis was already picking the game back up where they had left off.

“Oooh Yeah!” Mar’i agreed, floating a few feet in the air and reaching for Mavis’s hands.

Raven stiffened, and Kori gave a warning, “No higher than the bottom of the tree branches, Mar’i and don’t drop her.” Mar’i nodded in agreement and Raven relaxed a little, since Mavis could definitely survive that fall if Mar’i did drop her.

As the two young warriors flew off on their great quest, they came to a great mountain, complete with a rickety bridge that led to a separate deeply sloping mountain. Mavis the Formidable, was first to climb the great mountain with ease as she held within her tiny body the strength of a thousand suns, but as Mar’i attempted to climb the mountain she had lost her footing and the warrior princess began to slip. “Mavis!” She yelled to the knight in front of her. Mavis had reached the top of the mountain and turned to her companion. “Mar’i!” the brave warrior shouted from several miles above her.

“I’m slipping, I can’t hold on!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” Mavis yelled from the top of the mountain throwing the princess a long rope to help her climb to the top.

Mavis’s blue towel that was previously wrapped around her shoulders smacked Mar’i in the face and she fell backwards off the playset. Mar’i lay flat on the ground looking up at Mavis with rage in her eyes, “Ow! Mavis!”

Mavis started waving her arms around excitedly, “I'm so sorry, are you ok?”

Just then Kori and Raven ran over to see if Mar’i was ok. After a quick but thorough inspection, it was deemed that Mar’i was ok, just irritated. Raven shot Mavis an irritated look, “Mavis what possessed you throw the towel on Mar’i’s face?”

“No, mom, listen, I didn’t throw it at her, she was slipping off the mountain and I was trying to save her!”

Raven smacked a hand to her face, she was getting really sick of the knights game. “Ok new rule, you’re not climbing anything together!”

Mavis and Mar’i sighed knowing this part of their game was now over. The two mothers walked away leaving the girls to play together once again.

Mavis approached Mar’i but the other girl pouted and crossed her arms at her friend.

Mavis pleaded at her raven haired friend, “I really didn’t mean to, I promise!”

“Hmpf!” Mar’i huffed and turned away from the mini empath, “I don’t want to play with you anymore!”

Mavis’s eyes started to well up with tears at the rejection of her best friend until suddenly inspiration struck her.

“WAIT!” she shouted, taking the towel off her shoulders, “You can have my cape if you’ll be my best friend again.”

Mar’i straightened up in shock, “Really?”

“Uh-huh! Will you still be my friend?” Mavis implored her friend.

“Of course!” Mar’i said, standing up and putting the towel over her own shoulders.

Mavis breathed a sigh of relief as she stood with her friend and continued their game.

Beneath the mountain where the heroes had fallen they discovered a vast cave ripe for exploring. The cave was cold and dark, they had made an attempt at a fire to warm themselves up, but the cold winds within the cave kept blowing it out like a birthday candle. Mavis could make out ancient runes inscribed in the cave’s walls that quickly lead the two to the innermost part of the cave.

It wasn’t too long until the adventurers heard heavy breathing in the darkness that didn’t belong to either of the pair. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the girls screeched in terror.

Looking at them were several jackalopes, with their teeth bared and ready to attack the young girls. Mar’i attempted to run to the safety of the queen but Mavis the Formidable, knew exactly what to…

Kori looked up from the conversation she was having with Raven when she heard Mavis scream what could only be described as a warrior cry. “Raven...I don’t mean to alarm you but, your daughter is running and screaming manically with 3 baby bunnies in her arms.”

Raven took a deep shaky breath and closed her eyes, trying to find a state of calm. After several attempts to find a meditative state, a nearby bird's nest exploded as Raven finally lost her patience, “MAVIS ANGELA LOGAN! DROP THE BUNNIES!”

Mavis, the formidable once again found herself caught within the grasp of the evil witch and her chair of eternity. Days stretched into years and years stretched into decades as the adventurer found herself bound to the evil throne.

No amount of pleading and bargaining with the cruel witch would change her mind as the warrior was only met with hushes and dark glares that she learned in witch language meant “shut up”. Just when Mavis thought she would be left to perish cold and alone in the chair of eternity a glorious sound parted the clouds and rang through the heavens.

Beep, Beep, Beep. The timer on Raven’s phone went off signaling to Mavis that her timeout was over. Mavis eagerly lept from the chair but Raven stopped her before she could run back into the backyard. “Uh-uh, you’re not getting away that easily!”

Mavis wilted and shuffled back over to her mother to get a talking to. Just as Raven was about to start scolding Mavis, the sliding glass door opened and out stepped Phoenix, Garfield and Dick.

Garfield knew his youngest daughter like the back of his hand and knew what the look on her face meant. “Oh no, what did you do this time?” he asked Mavis casually.

Raven narrowed her eyes at Mavis while speaking to her husband, “Your daughter is trying to catch wild animals to play with them again.”

“How come she’s always my daughter when she’s in trouble?” The changeling asked.

“Because Phoenix is my daughter when she’s in trouble, this was our agreement, I get the mean one and you get the feral one.”

“Right, I forgot about that. You want me to handle this one?”

“I would love nothing more.”

With that, Raven turned to her older daughter to get the details of how her training went, while Garfield crouched down to his youngest daughter.

“Are you out here driving your mother crazy?”

Mavis cracked a small smile.

“It’s not funny, Mavis,” he warned.

“Well I was just trying to play with Mari and we were playing knights and we wanted to go on a quest to find the dragon but mom won’t let me use my powers or a sword or chase jackalopes and then I accidently hurt Mar’i with a towel but I was just trying to save her from falling off a mountain and-”

Gar threw up his hand to silence his child’s rambling. “What’s this about a dragon?”

Raven side eyed her husband and smirked knowing where he was going with this by the tone of his voice.

Mavis continued on, “There’s a dragon, and it’s attacking the whole village and-”

Gar cut her off again and began inching towards Raven. “I see, Mavis, does the dragon look anything like this?” he questioned as he threw his wife over his shoulder, morphed into a pterodactyl and flew several feet in the air with Raven on his back.

Raven no longer found her husband's antics amusing as she desperately clung to his neck to avoid a sudden drop. “GARFIELD MARK LOGAN YOU BETTER NOT DROP ME I SWEAR TO GOD!”

Mavis the Formidable was finally face to face with her enemy the dragon and he had captured the witch. Normally this would’ve been something to celebrate, but the witch was sometimes nice. She was the best at reading bedtime stories and always had really good snacks, so Mavis couldn’t let her get eaten by the dragon yet.

Mavis wielded her arm-sized sword and began to swing at the dreaded dragon. The dragon flew close to the ground but continued to dodge Mavis’s attacks with ease. All seemed hopeless until Mavis remembered the dragon slaying potion the witch had made for her. Mavis pulled the bottle out of her back pocket, popped the cork, tilted her head back and chugged the potion.

Raven’s eyes went wide as she watched her child attempt to chug what was essentially salt water and fall to her hands and knees, gagging. Raven stifled a chuckle until she burst out into a fit of giggles.

“You’re not supposed to drink it you dork, you’re supposed to throw it at the dragon!” she said through fits of laughter.

Gar quickly morphed back into his human form also laughing and let Raven get down off of his back.

“Are you going to be ok?” he asked, trying to stifle his own laughter.

“That was so yucky” she managed to cough out and dramatically pretended to die.

By this point, she had everyone in the backyard laughing including herself. Gar went over to pick the child up, when suddenly her eyes shot open and she shoved the stick between his arm and chest. Gar immediately went along with the game. “AAHHHHH YOU KILLED ME” He screamed, falling to the ground next to Mavis.

Raven walked over to the two impressed, “That was pretty clever Mavis the Formidable. You wanna go get some water to wash out that potion taste?”

“And a snack?”

“Sure Mavis, and a snack”

THE END.

#bbraeweek21 #Phoenix and Mavis #None of you understand this fic is my baby #I love this story so much its probably my favorite one ive ever written #y'all wanted more bbrabies #bbrae #bbrae fanfiction

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lissacmonster · 3 years

Text

Wrong Place, Right Time

TMNT x (Gender Neutral) Reader (Non-romantic) Synopsis: Reader goes into an abandoned building to find their dog, and ends up finding a lot more than their dog. Rating: Teen Genre: Action/Thriller Pairings: None Content Warnings: The dog is in danger for some of it (but isn’t actually hurt) Other Tags: Funny, Combat, Short Story, Fanfiction, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Shredder

When you left your apartment that night, you had no way of knowing how unprepared you were for the events that would unfold. Armed with a flashlight and a roll of doggy bags you and your dog Cody had slipped out into the fresh, cool night air. You also brought a can of bear mace in case you ran into any creeps. Bear mace wouldn't have necessarily been your first choice, but it was leftover from the time you went camping and you wanted to put it to good use.

The dog was just happily sniffing around and relieving himself when he suddenly stiffened up. Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a cat. The cat was happily strutting across the street, unperturbed by the dog even as he began barking hatefully and straining against the leash. You held your grip and started pulling him back the way you had come. But he turned around, dug his heels in and managed to pull out of the collar.

The cat suddenly noticed it was in danger and darted around, looking for a place to hide. Cody followed the cat in circles around a parked car, then he chased it around the corner.

You ran after him, "Cody! Get back here!"

You were half angry, and half worried that he would run out into the street in front of a car. Instead, when you rounded the corner, he was wriggling his way into a boarded up building. His tail disappeared through the space in the boards just as you leapt forward to grab him.

"Cody! NO! Get back here, now!" You said, using your best angry parent voice.

But Cody was on a mission to find that cat. You knew that he would be single-minded until he found what he was looking for. It might have been admirable if you were coon hunting together out in the countryside, or something. Instead, it was annoying because you were on an evening walk in the middle of Manhattan.

You groaned in exasperation and looked up at the building. It was an old apartment building or something, a rough brick structure that was 5 stories high. The windows were mostly boarded up, and the ones that weren't were missing their glass. There were no lights on inside. It didn't look like anyone had been here for a long time. At least, nobody you wanted to run into...

And nobody you wanted your dog to run into either! Your protective instinct kicked in. You called through the hole to him for another 30 seconds. When he didn't reappear, you started looking around for a way in.

In the alley where you were standing, there were lots of bits of metal and you took a second to poke through them and find a good one. First you found a weird, 3-pronged dagger of some kind, which you tucked into your belt. Maybe you could use it for protection in case somebody dangerous was squatting in there. (Although, if you were being honest, you mostly kept it because you thought it looked cool.) Then you found a metal rod that seemed sturdy enough to work as a crowbar. In no time, you were squeezing through a gap you had made in the boards covering the doorway.

After clicking on your flashlight, you noticed that you were standing in an old lobby. There was a torn up spot on the floor where the front desk had obviously once been affixed. The wallpaper was peeling. The hardwood floors, which had probably been gorgeous when they were kept up, were covered in a thick layer of dust. Cobwebs were hanging in the corners and doorways, with their own gathering of dust.

You followed the sounds of Cody's feet skittering against the floors.

"Cody!" You whispered harshly, creeping towards him. If there were any questionable people around, you didn't want them hearing you guys. Luckily Cody wasn't raising hell yet, which told you that he must have lost track of the cat.

You spotted him at the end of a hallway.

"Cody, c'mere," You called, sweetly.

He looked you dead in the face and then turned and walked through a doorway into pitch black nothingness.

What. A. Brat.

Gazing down the stairway, you wanted to cry so bad. That damn dog had just run down into what must be the basement. You stood at the top, feeling sorry for yourself, trying to see down the steps. After a minute you realized that it wasn't actually pitch black. There was some kind of light that was dimly illuminating the bottom of the steps.

Gathering every last ounce of courage, you made your way down the steps. Every step creaked horribly, and with each one, you felt certain that your foot was about to sink through rotten wood. A dank smell invaded your nostrils more as you descended. How long did you have to breath black mold in before it would make you sick, anyway?

Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, you found that you were standing in a hallway. The floor here was even more dirty than the ground floor above. There was garbage piled all over the place. If anyone had ever squatted in this building, you were willing to bet that they'd done it here in this basement level.

A voice sounded from down the hallway. Your head snapped towards it in alarm, but after a few seconds it was clear it wasn't directed at you. It had come from a doorway at the very end of the hall which was slightly ajar, pale blue light spilling from it. You fought the urge to sprint back up the stairs and instead crept down the hall towards the voice. You tucked the metal rod into your belt and pulled out the strange dagger, ready to strike if someone suddenly rushed out at you. The voice was speaking again.

"...think you can defy me, turtles, but once again I've proven you wrong."

"You're not gonna get away with this, Shredder!" A second voice, female this time. She sounded scared. What were you walking into? You felt strangely numb as you continued to move forward, your heart pounding.

"I already have. Look at them! Once I have what I need, I'll dispose of you all," It was a deep, rich voice with a cold fury beneath.

"And then what? You took the mutagen out of our blood when we fought you years ago. So what could you possibly want with our blood this time?" Another male voice countered, sounding calm, but angry.

"Th-that's right! Our blood is free of mutagen, you can't use it to mutate anybody!" Another, nervous-sounding male voice agreed.

You reached the doorway and peered around the doorframe very slowly...

Within the room was some kind of makeshift laboratory. One bulb hung from the ceiling, casting the whole scene in harsh bright light. Several figures were visible in the large room. The first one that caught your attention was the huge figure in the center of the room. It looked like a man wearing a thick, heavy suit of strange armor. The armor had lots of sharp angles and spikes on it. You couldn't see anything else about him because he was silhouetted against the harshly-lit room. He was facing two figures who were lying on the floor.

One of the people on the floor was the woman. She had dark hair and eyes and was wearing a yellow jacket. Her hands were bound and she was glaring hatefully at the armored man. Next to her was another man. He wasn't talking, and he was lying very still... Was he ok? Or was he...?

You didn't finish that thought because you caught sight of four... somethings against the far wall.

They were... turtles, you guessed. But they weren't like any turtles you had ever seen. They were tall and buff with humanoid faces and bodies. Each was wearing a different colored mask, as well as various gear. They were strung up against the wall by lots and lots of chains. There was some kind of machinery connected to them, but it was hard to make out what it all was from this far away.

The spikey man- what had she called him? Shredder? He was speaking again, "I don't need to mutate anybody. All I need is your DNA, and I will have an unstoppable army."

"He's cracked, you guys," A new voice. It was gruff, and it came from the largest turtle, who was wearing a red mask.

"Oh no... I-I think I know what he's talking about!" The nervous voice was coming from the tallest one, in the purple mask, "He wants to clone us!"

"Is that true?!" The orange one finally spoke up, "Man, you can't make another Michelangelo! I'm the one and only!

"Stockman, how much longer before they're drained?" Shredder interrupted.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as an answer sounded out from very close to you.

"Another 2 hours, Mr. Shredder!"

"Why must it take so long?" Shredder asked, threateningly.

"W-well... We only had so much equipment..." Stockman defended, "I mean, there are ways of removing it faster, if you catch my drift. But if you want a clean, untainted sample, this is the best way to go!"

"Hmm... Very well." Shredder agreed after a moment.

You were now pressed against the wall just outside of the door, clutching your chest. That Stockman guy had been no more than 4 feet from you just inside the door! He was against the wall that you couldn't see, though, so you hadn't noticed him.

Stockman was talking again, more to himself, "Aw man... That cat got in again..."

A soft growling sounded from within the room. Oh god. Cody.

"What the..." Stockman started and then yelped, "HEY!"

His chair clattered to the ground as Cody's chorus of barks started up. You rushed back to the door and were frozen to the spot as you watched the scene unfold. It was utter chaos as Cody tore around the room after the cat, which was leaping around on the equipment and furniture. Cody managed to knock over 2 chairs, jump up on a table, and upset several important-looking instruments before he was caught around the neck by the monstrous man's hand. Cody's high-pitched cries snapped you out of it.

"STOP!" You hurled yourself forward. Everything in the room seemed to stop in time. All eyes settled on you and every face held surprise. Shredder's helmeted head turned towards you, observing as you sprinted toward him. You had the dagger drawn back with the intent to jam it into the metal of his stupid, shiney armor.

You didn't even feel it when he swatted you away like a fly. All you noticed was that suddenly you were flying backwards. You quickly sprung back to your feet. Your skin felt electric as adrenaline coursed through your body. There was a throbbing feeling in your face where he had struck you. The strange dagger had skittered out of your hands.

Cody was no longer in his grip, that was the good news. The bad news was that now you were getting an up close and personal look at this Shredder guy. You could see every facet of the armor from here. The most striking part was the helmet, which resembled a leering skull.

You wondered what his face looked like behind the helmet. Did he look as surprised as everyone else? His voice didn't betray any surprise, only amusement.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here... A new hero, come to save the world. Such a pity you’ll have to die."

You tried to keep your voice steady as you explained, “Look man, I don’t know what you’re talking about- I’m just here for my dog!”

"Really, turtles, is this weakling the only ally you have left?"

None of them answered. They were still staring at you and glancing at one another, like they were trying to figure out if they knew you from somewhere. This was getting awkward.

"No, really, I don't know them," You insisted.

"Is that so? Well, then, how do you explain that." He lifted one of his huge metallic arms. It took you a second to realize he was pointing at your shirt. You looked down and gasped.

Save The Turtles was emblazoned across your chest in bright green letters, complete with a cute little cartoon rendering of a turtle.

God damn it. Of course you had chosen to wear the shirt you got from that time you volunteered at the turtle sanctuary.

"Uh- that's-!"

Before you could explain it to him, Shredder cut you off, "ENOUGH! Stockman, restrain this fool."

"ME? I'm not here to be your muscle!" Stockman sounded indignant.

Shredder was just throwing out another line about how weak you looked, and that restraining you would hardly require "muscle," when you darted around him and over to the far corner where Cody was cowering. You had to climb around some equipment that seemed to be collecting blood from the turtles. You were uncomfortable being so close to them, as you had yet to discern whether they were friendly or not.

"Hey, that's my staff!"

You looked up at the turtle with the purple mask. He was peering down at you through glasses that made his eyes look 3 times bigger than they actually were.

You glared at him, "No, that's my dog!"

"No, I mean that thing on your belt!"

Was he talking about the metal rod?

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! DUCK, KID!" The one in the red mask was shouting.

You dropped instantly to the ground. A huge BANG! sounded from above and drywall rained down on you. There was a big piece of metal embedded in the wall where your head had just been. Cody scampered away, whimpering in fear.

"He's coming up behind you!"

You whirled around to find Shredder was advancing towards you. You glanced around for an escape, but you were boxed in by equipment.

Suddenly Shredder stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around. Stuck in his back was the dagger you had dropped. The girl in the yellow jacket was standing there, having plunged it into the battery pack on the back of his suit.

You stepped carefully out of the way of the equipment and cast around desperately for a way to help her.

"Quick! Use the staff!" The purple one called.

When you looked clueless, he clarified, "The thing on your belt!"

Oh, the rod! Great idea! You grabbed the rod, jumped on Shredder's back and started pummeling his helmeted head with the thing. This drew a chorus of complaints from the turtles.

"Aw MAN! C'mon, kid!"

"Duuuude, that's not funny! Kick his butt for real!"

Purple was fighting desperately to be heard over all the commotion. He sounded completely exasperated by this point, "No, I meant-! Press the button!"

What button? There were no buttons on the-! Oh, wait. There was a button on the rod. How had you missed that? You pressed your thumb down on small, red button. Instantly, both ends of the rod shot out, extending it by about 5 feet. In the process, it struck Shredder's helmet, launching it violently from the man's head. With a startled cry you toppled off of Shredder's back. The man rounded on you. You looked for the staff, but it had launched itself far out of reach.

"Now, I'm going to put an end to this little game," He said, and you could see the full extent of his fury on his face.

The four turtles were all shouting things and you couldn't make out any of it. All you could see was the hate in the man's eyes as he approached. His long black hair hung in his face untidily. He was panting and his lips were pulled back in an angry grimace. He looked like some kind of beast, like a lion, or like a...

"Bear!" You shouted suddenly. You tugged the bear mace out of the little pouch on your belt.

Shredder was towering over you now. He raised one of his bladed arms, poised to strike. Popping the top off, you raised the bear mace, pointed it at him, and pressed the switch.

Shredder was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of orange smoke. He roared and stumbled backwards. While he was distracted with that you scrambled to your feet. The woman was busy unlocking the chains that were trapping the turtles.

"Thanks, Angelcakes!" The one in orange said gratefully as he shrugged off all of the blood-collecting equipment.

He came over and stood next to you. You eyed him warily, but he was just looking at you with interest, "Hey, that was pretty rad how you stood up to Shredder like that! You pretty much ruled, even though you kinda-sorta... suck at fighting!"

Your pride had never been particularly tied to your fighting skills, so you just said, "Thanks. What's your name?"

"Michelangelo. But the ladies like to call me Mikey."

The two of you kept an eye on Shredder while the woman continued unlocking the turtles chains. You even sprayed a few more times in his direction when he got too close. Eventually he managed to rip the metal armor off of his hands so he could rub his burning eyes. Now he rounded on you again.

He looked truly out of his mind by this point, his blood red eyes were streaming and his face looked pinker than any face you had ever seen.

"Whoa... I think he's gonna-"

Before Mikey could finish, suddenly Shredder was charging at you. Mikey yanked you aside as someone barreled past you. The one with the red mask slammed into Shredder, colliding with him with the force of a refrigerator.

"Oh, shit! Is he ok??"

"You mean, Raphael? He's fine! He gets thrown into cars and stuff all the time," Mikey waved his hand dismissively.

Raphael rolled to his feet, pulling the dagger out of Shredder's back as he did so. He walked back to where you guys were standing, "Thanks for bringing one of my Sais, kid."

Things were kind of a blur from there. The turtles restrained the Shredder. The one with the blue mask was apparently the leader, and his name was Leonardo. He was on the phone with the chief of police. Wow... So your local police department was cool with these turtle ninjas? Who would have thought... Maybe your uncle's conspiracy theory about reptiles controlling the government wasn't totally crazy.

Donatello, the one with the purple mask, was attending to the man who had been lying on the ground when you came in. The man's name was Casey, and he wasn't dead as you had previously thought. He did have a pretty nasty concussion, though, and kept repeating the same phrases over and over (A common symptom with concussions, Donatello told you).

Don also took a look at your own injuries while he was at it. Your face was beginning to swell from where Shredder had struck you, and you would be sporting a nasty-looking bruise for a while. Other than that, you would be just fine.

After everything was said and done, and you had talked to the police, and Shredder had been loaded into an armored vehicle and hauled away, you and Cody were finally leaving to go home. You were back in the cool night air, walking your dog on his leash. You wondered if Cody would think twice about chasing a cat next time, or if the whole event had gone over his head? He definitely didn't look like he cared that he had just been in life-threatening danger.

Before you could ponder it much more, the brothers suddenly appeared around you.

"Heeeyyy, let us walk you home!" Leo offered aggressively.

"No, that's ok! You don't have to!" You really just wanted to be left alone now.

"We insist." The grin on Leo's face looked mostly threatening.

Leo threw his arm around your shoulder, as if to make sure you wouldn't run away, and started practically dragging you along.

They took you on the coolest shortcut you had ever been on. You scaled buildings and leapt across rooftops. It was just like in Assassin's Creed! Of course, they had to carry both you and Cody the whole way like a couple of carry-on bags.

When they set you down finally, you were in the alley next to your apartment building.

"Thanks guys," You said, "But how the hell did you find out where I lived?" You hadn't ever given them any directions.

"I have my ways..." Donatello said. He adjusted his glasses and they glinted dramatically like in an anime.

They were all kind of staring at you in a vaguely menacing way, "Uh... Are ya'll gonna... kill me because I know too much or something?"

"What the-! Of course not!" Donnie yelled.

"Hey, relax, buddy! We're not those kind of ninjas!" Mikey laughed, "That's not how we handle people who know too much!"

"Not any more, at least..." Raph said, narrowing his eyes at you, "The chief said it was too messy to keep covering it up."

You gulped nervously.

"Raph! Don't tell people things like that!" Leo shoved him and turned back to you, "Don't worry, he's joking. YOU'RE JOKING, RIGHT RAPH?"

"I'M JOKING. JESUS CHRIST!" Raph yelled back, "Just, don't go runnin' your mouth about us, aight?"

The leader in blue leaned in uncomfortably close to stare into your eyes, "If you say anything about us, we will come back to see you..."

"Aaaand PUNISH YOU," Mikey added, "In a gentle, non life-threatening way!"

You put up your arms defensively, "Trust me, I am not telling anyone that I fought some kind of terminator samurai to save my dog and some turtles."

You thought you saw a twitch at the corner of his mouth before he straightened up and lead his brothers away. They scaled the walls of the surrounding buildings with ease, and then they had vanished just like that.

============================

Will you ever see them again? Would you LIKE to see them again? I hope so because I have a lot of ideas for this series.

Thanks for reading, ya’ll. It’s the first story I have finished in ages and it feels good to be back.

#tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt donnie #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt mikey #tmnt leonardo #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfic

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creativeashproductions · 4 years

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What If...? V // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1995 was Sunset Curve’s big break in the music world with a successful future. Between 1995-2004 a handful of things happen: Playing the Orpheum, the band buying a house, a car accident, a reconciliation, an engagement, a wedding and children. All things that potentially may have not happened had the boys continued to eating sketchy hot dogs from a car.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, labour, minor angst and a bunch of fluff.

Words: 3.1k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. The last part of your request 🥺😭

A/N: Wow. The last part in the What If…? Mini series is here. This was incredibly fun to write and while I wrote the last two parts I played a few covers and rewrites of Unsaid Emily. This is the first finished series. I’ll also let everyone know that there will be a part three for Lost Time.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hospital Maternity Room #284, 1999

“Have a child, they said. Pregnancy is a beautiful thing they said. I can confirm that asshole that said that had a dick.” You hissed from the hospital bed. A contraction contracting your midsection.

Nancy Y/L/N and Emily Patterson took up residence in the chairs on either side of Y/N Patterson in the afternoon of 1999. Nancy had been using the previous months making a scrapbook for the baby; the first bit with copies of photos from Luke and your baby stages. The rest would be the first year of your baby’s life.

“Would you like some ice chips?” Emily asked focused on knitting the baby hat for her impending grandchild.

Mitch and Lance each had made themselves scarce from the hospital in favour of working leaving the women alone.

“I’d like your son to be here to kick his ass.” Your eye twitched at the thought of your husband currently on an airplane. Sunset Curve had gone on a three-day interview marathon to the dislike of your friends and family.

Sunset Curve really needs to fire their manager with little respect for his charges’ lives. Especially the lead singer’s first child. Luke had no clue you had gone into labour.

“Your father had words with Jerry for his meddling.” Nancy told her daughter glancing up at the strained smile through another contraction, “I’m sure Jerry thought the controversy of Luke not making the birth would be perfect for publicity.”

“I swear I will strangle Jerry if Luke isn’t here. I will pulverize the son of a bitch.” You hissed relaxing against the white sheets in the private suite. The mothers had been constants in the room while Rose, the pianist from the wedding, had visited briefly.

Rose and the photographer Ray had hit it off so well they had entered a relationship that then blossomed a friendship with you. The couple had become dear friends in the last few months.

“Okay Y/N, we’re gonna check your progress.” The doctor spoke swiftly tugging the disposable medical gloves on his hands. Two nurses worked with him. Your eyes pinned to the ceiling during the short examination.

“We’ve hit ten centimetres.” The doctor announced pushing the wheeled stool away to study your expressions, “Do you have your partner here?”

The tears built up as it settled that Luke might miss the birth of his first child when he had been so excited about it. He had bought and read more pregnancy books than you he had been talking with his father on how he could support you. He took classes with his mom on how to change a diaper, check the temperature of the bottle and methods for colic and diaper rashes.

Overwhelmed the feeling of two pairs of hands comforted you with the reminder that while Luke wasn’t there, you still had support. The baby would be born with both his grandmothers in the room. It was as best as it could be.

In a fast pace, you then found yourself with your legs in the stirrups with a stranger, albeit a doctor, staring at your vagina. It was uncomfortable, but it faded when the pain really began.

“Okay I want you to push from 1-10.” The doctor soothed, “Good job.”

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Nancy told you, leading Emily to open her mouth. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance.

“I’m here!” Luke exclaimed rushing into the room, “Your dad was-“

Why was it unfortunate that Emily didn’t speak? Well, Luke unprepared caught sight of your exposed lower half. He promptly fainted with a thud to the floor.

“Are you serious?!” You yelled glaring at the puddle of your husband out cold with one of the nurses waving a package under his nose.

The smelling salt pack under Luke’s nose, bringing him back to consciousness, “Oh, boy. I fainted.”

“It happens more often than you would think.” The nurse told the young man while you focused on another push.

By the time the contraction ended, Luke had taken his mother’s place in holding your hand with encouraging words dripping off his tongue.

“This is the only child we’re having.” You hissed at the musician who continued to pale with a perfect view of the birthing in a reflection, “If you faint again I will…ARG”

A beautiful cry filled the room to the relief of baby Patterson’s parents bringing both of them to cry as well. Baby Patterson was scooped away to the corner of the room for a checkup and weight while the doctor inspected you. Time felt unreal as it passed quickly.

Baby Patterson was wiped clean as you delivered the placenta, got cleaned up with a sheet change and began to rest. Baby hairs plastered against your forehead you cooed at the swaddled form of your baby.

“So beautiful.” Luke whispered, unaware of his mother taking pictures with the lessons Ray had given her. The baby’s mouth opened with a gurgle that caused your heart to grow, “I’ll go let the boys know.”

Mesmerized by the baby, Luke made his way to the family waiting room on the maternity ward where it was packed. Opening the door, he counted Reggie, Bobby, Alex, Alex’s boyfriend Willie, your father Lance and Luke’s father. In the corner, Rose and Ray huddled together.

“Well?” Alex anxiously questioned picking at his cuticles, anxious for any news. His blue eyes begging his best friend for answers.

“Y/N is doing fine. The birth was smooth, and baby Patterson is healthy.” Luke proudly announced, placing his hands on the hem of his purple long sleeve shirt.

The room went silent before Mitch spoke, “So, do I have a granddaughter or a grandson?”

From the moment she was born, Stevie Eleanor Patterson had her father tied around her finger with her daddy’s matching hazel gaze. Lips like yours and a nose still unsure of but the nine-month-old was absolutely gorgeous with her short brown hair already curling. Of course, you could be biased as she was all yours.

Stevie wouldn’t settle without rock music of her father singing songs, but she did sleep through the night since day one. That didn’t mean she’d continue to sleep through the night, regression of sleep was tale your mother told about you as a baby.

“Hello sweet baby girl.” You whispered gently rocking the baby back to sleep mesmerized by the perfect combination of you and Luke, “So sleepy from feeding hmm?”

Stevie was heavy with the only complication being the minor tongue tie that was resolved increasing her feed. Stevie had such an appetite you had to compensate with formula to a degree, and you were sure the appetite was all Luke.

“Hey sweetheart.” Luke murmured from the door of Stevie’s bedroom wearing his Rush cutoff shirt and his staple black jeans.

The now twenty-year-old man had transitioned smoothly into fatherhood with the support of his best friends and family. Emily and Nancy had alternated staying in the guest room to help in the first month; the birth had been easy, but recovery had been at a near standstill.

“Hey!” You spoke as Stevie reacted to Luke’s voice, “I thought you said you would be late?”

Luke’s lips turned up at your words, “It looked that way, but Tom sent us home. God, I wish we had him from the first instead of Jerry.”

Both noses of the couple scrunched at the insensitive former manager that had both hit on you and insulted you when started showing with the pregnancy. The minute they could the band fired the man and found a saviour in Tom. Tom had left his previous employment with some magician with a name like Conner or something. The magician was narcissistic truthfully and had a slight obsession with the occult and death.

“Perfect. I need a shower.” You sighed shuffling Stevie into Luke’s warm embrace staring at the daddy-daughter duo.

“Have a bath. Relax babe. I got it.” Luke cooed, staring at his baby daughter’s bright gaze and dimpled smile.

Luke couldn’t believe how blessed he had been in falling in love with someone like you and receiving a gift. The gift being a father to the most beautiful angel in the world with the name Stevie.

“Love you!” You called over hastily make a flee for the master bathroom with the large tub before Stevie objected.

How lucky were you to have a husband like Luke?

Malibu, Patterson home, 2004

Luke, Reggie, Bobby and Alex, better known as Sunset Curve, had become legendary in the music world after their 1995 headliner debut at the Orpheum. In the nine years since the esteemed performance Sunset Curve had released two studio albums and toured four times. With the good times came the bad times as well.

Bobby Willis had decided he wanted to pursue a solo career creating a cavern between all four boys. He would change his name to Trevor Wilson at the suggestion of his label. He had little traction with his songs.

“Daddy!” Squealed, the three old little brunette girl ran through the modest-sized mansion to the man at the door, “I missed you!”

Luke, having memorized the routine, had already left his bag on the ground as his five-year-old daughter launched herself into his arms. Stevie had kept the hazel eyes with the chocolate coloured wavy hair. You could see yourself with her nose, chin, mouth and ears, but the rest is all Luke.

“Bug, you saw Daddy this morning.” You spoke, bringing Luke’s attention to the woman leaning against the wall. Luke’s heart fluttered, taking in the vision of his wife, who inspired so many songs.

Luke’s lips separated to reveal that perfect smile that stilled made your stomach flutter as it had since you were both fifteen. His hazel eyes glanced from your face to the one-year-old on your hip with his eyes closed. Little lips opened with quiet snores.

Hudson Jude was born in December of 2002 thankfully while Sunset Curve was on a break allowing Luke to be there. Hud was a near replica of you with the same eyes as his older sister and father. His infectious personality mimicking his uncle Reggie.

Mitch and Emily’s House May 2002

Last night had been incredible to Luke Patterson as Sunset Curve stood on the stadium stage as the sold-out crowd cheered as the song came to an end. ‘Now or Never’ had a special spot in the band’s hearts as they believed it had been the spark of interest from record execs back in ’95. Luke’s blue electric hung behind him as his best friends, his brothers, came to the edge with him. Grins splitting their faces the four boys grabbed hands and bowed to the audience.

“Thank you so much for coming out!” Luke’s voice reached every corner of the stadium drinking in the cheering and the signs in the crowd. And it felt like just yesterday they played the Orpheum before they hit it big.

The screams growing as Reggie’s winked in the direction of a group of girls, but Luke’s drifted to the VIP section. You stood with Stevie wearing the special headphones to protect her hearing. Her tiny hands clapping as her eyes wandered the large number of people.

The next morning, right now, he was in the living room with his parents, in-laws, his wife and daughter. So much had changed for the vocalist from fleeing this very house to returning to make amends. Now he watched his daughter playing with the toys Emily had found in the attic from Luke’s childhood.

“Hey I got you a gift.” You whispered to the man leaning against your legs on the floor. You sat seated on the couch while the other adults spoke.

“A gift? What for?” Luke questioned leaning to rest his head on your lap. His eyes found the little box you had hidden behind a pillow.

It was small and unassuming to the group in the living room. Luke’s fingers pulled the bow apart before the lid came off. Nestled in the velvet five guitars were. Taking one, Luke read the engraving.

“New Sunset Curve member: Coming December 2002.” Luke whispered blinking as he flipped it to see, “Daddy’s new music buddy.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, “The other ones are for the boys. The back has their names on it.”

“We’re having another baby?” Luke softly asked, turning to face you completely. His eyes wonder-filled at the news, “Oh my gosh!”

“I know. I’m about two months pregnant at this point.” You murmured back cupping his cheeks with the stubble he hadn’t shaved yet. Tears filling both his and your eyes, “With how busy the tour was I lost track of my periods.”

“Oh my gosh. Can I tell them?” Luke pleaded on his knees, bringing the attention of both your parents. Stevie was still so enthralled by her toys she didn’t catch any words..

“Go ahead.” You smiled at the excited man. Facing the other side of the room, Luke nestled into your side on the couch..

Hand pressing on your flat tummy he grinned, “Stevie’s gonna be a big sister.”

Luke was so excited when his second child was born, he was thrilled at having a son; he would have been just as excited for a girl. He had a son and a daughter he loved with everything in him. He collaborated with Lance on a song for his own children just as Lance had.

“Hi Hud,” Luke spoke, stepping close to kiss his son’s sleeping head nestled in your neck, “How’s my gorgeous wife today.”

“Tired. Hud is breaking a new tooth, but Stevie’s been better today. She missed her uncle Alex.” You spoke, looking at your little girl.

Stevie had become Alex’s shadow with the man even buying her a toy drumset for her fifth birthday. Alex and Willie had been away the past two weeks for a honeymoon; they legally couldn’t marry, but that didn’t stop them from having a dedication ceremony. The minute the law changed, you had no doubt Willie and Alex would find their way to a courthouse.

“We all miss Alex.” Luke sighed, “I hope he finds beach sand for the next year, there’s only so much I can take of Reggie. Bobby, Trevor came to the studio today. His sales have dropped, and his label dropped him.”

“He wants to come back?”

“To be fair he never really left the band. He went solo.” Luke admitted, “It’s hard to trust him after he took ‘Get Lost’ from us. At least he didn’t take ‘My Name is Luke’ from us.”

Your hand pushed up the hair hanging in his eyes below the orange beanie that had been a staple outfit piece for years now. Fronts pushed together, Luke kissed you for the first time today other than the quick peck as he left this morning. Hudson had a lousy sleep that left Luke staying up most the night with him.

“At the end of the day, it comes down to Reggie, Alex and you to make that decision. He’s never been a bad person, but maybe he felt like he wasn’t important. How many songs did he write?” You questioned your husband tentatively speaking to not spark his passionate anger.

You saw the annoyance in the crinkle of his nose and his eyebrows almost touching, but it didn’t take from the love in his eyes. With a sigh, he shifted Hudson to his embrace, tugging you to the spacious living room.

“If you look at it outside the band you have Stevie, Hudson and me. You have a family. Alex and Willie are connected at the hip. Reggie is with the band, volunteering at the kids centre, or with Ray.” It seemed it shifted something in Luke. His shoulders relaxed.

“The last few years have been pretty hectic.” Luke admitted watching as Stevie danced to the rock playing on the radio. Her little arms moving as if she was drumming.

Hudson shifted on Luke’s lap as you nestled into his side, watching the little loves you created with soft expressions. Stevie’s bright grin lighting up the room better than the natural light from the windows. The innocence she carried deep in her soul it felt like everything clicked into place.

“Daddy! Watch me!” Stevie giggled jumping as the song changed to Bittersweet by her grandfather Lance. The same song that played in the car accident back in ’96 that had a new meaning with having your own children.

It took a long time before Lance was able to pick up the guitar and perform; his lingering pain in his arm the cause. It took a few surgeries and physiotherapy along with relearning how to play before he performed Bittersweet. Lance performed for the first time live in your hospital room to his first grandchild.

“Whoo Stevie!” Reggie called from the front of the house. Behind him, Alex and Willie joined the same family.

“UNCLE ALEX!” Stevie shouted sprinting towards the tall blonde already crouching for the little girl.

The bond between Stevie and Alex was by far the cutest thing you had ever seen with how Stevie looked up at him. Alex would be the first to suggest tea parties and painting each other’s nails with newspaper for any spills. There wasn’t a better role model for Stevie to love. The bond was reminiscent of Uncle Jesse and Michelle from Full House.

“Ellie!” Alex shouted back swinging the little girl in his hug calling his unique nickname for her. He had taken to shortening her middle name; he really didn’t like when anyone else said it.

Peering over the pink sweater Stevie caught sight of Willie in the door, “Ready Uncle Alex?”

At Alex’s confusion, Stevie wandered over to the skater smiling at the sight of his partner with the little girl. Willie’s brow furrowed as the girl came over to him uncharacteristically.

“Hi.” Stevie spoke, playing with her little fingers, “How was your trip, Uncle Willie?”

A small gasp from both Willie and Alex at the new title given that Stevie was shy with the skater. Stevie had been very excited for her uncle to come back from the honeymoon so she could surprise them.

“What?”

“You married Uncle Alex. That means you’re my uncle now too. Can I call you that?” Stevie’s brows furrowed concentrating on the man with tears in his eyes. The room was silent at Willie collected himself.

“I’d love that Squirt.” Willie choked out when her little arms wrapped around his shoulders, “Learn any new tricks on the drums?”

“Not really! But I lost a tooth!” Stevie excitedly spoke dancing on the balls of her little feet in the kid-sized black vans.

“Oh! Ray wanted me to pass on that he and Rose are pregnant! Baby is a girl due next year.” Reggie gasped, remembering the announcement from lunch at the Molina house, “Ray’s pretty sure they’ll name her Julie.”

The little Patterson girl eagerly informed her uncles on everything that had happened since the dedication ceremony with Willie and Alex. Even the twenty-four hours since she saw Uncle Reggie before breaking out into the dance moves from her dance classes. Hudson now toddling after his older sister with a smile on his little face.

A twist of expressions appeased on the members of Sunset Curve at the same time spoke together. All thinking of a distant vision of a Puerto Rican girl with a blurry face and gorgeous voice.

“Julie Molina? I feel like I know that name?”

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @merceret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @kcd15 @siriuswvrld @princessvader15 @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle @joshy-obx @lovesanimals @oopsiedoopsie23 @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you @jaskiers-sweetkiss @lostrandomfangirln @must-be-a-weasley-92 @jatp-holland @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland @dasexydevitt13 @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost @marinettepotterandplagg @ssprayberrythings @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon @zukoshonourr @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch @kcd15 @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl @all-in-fangirl @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown @badwolf00593 @blowakissbabe @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner @kaitieskidmore1 @writerinlearning @aiofheavenandhell @sageellsworth05 @link-102

#luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #luke patterson x reader #alive!luke patterson #charlie gillespie #caitsy and ash productions

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jengajives · 3 years

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Part two of my modern au. will Daeron ever actually meet the family? I don’t know

The Fëanorian house was big. Daeron probably should have expected it, just given the rumors he had heard before he even met Maglor, but it still surprised him with its immensity. It seemed a vast and artificial thing to him- somewhat unsettling if he was being honest- but the Noldorin leaning had always been toward excess and showmanship rather than the subtle, natural beauty his people preferred, so it was easy to calmly set his nervousness aside as simple culture shock. The lack of green anywhere beyond the perfectly manicured garden out front did make him feel somewhat squirmy inside, though; entering that glass and concrete beast was a daunting thought, even when he tried to explain it away. “We’re here!” Maglor said with a sort of nauseous cheeriness that conveyed no particular optimism. “Last chance to turn back.” Daeron craned his neck to get a look at the upper floors, currently glaring with an echo of the sunset behind them. “Wow.” “Dad designed it. It’s pretty, right?” Maglor actually looked over, read Daeron’s expression, and hastily went on. “Pretty horrible. Yeah. Really bad. Let’s go in.” As Daeron stepped onto the ceramic driveway, he was floored by another revelation: he had always thought Maglor’s car to be quite showy, maybe even to the point of tackiness, but seeing the other eight cars lined up nicely on the drive made him quickly change his mind about the rather conservative little blue Porsche. The first one he noticed was the cherry red supercar- it was hard not to look at it, to be honest, because it resembled a spaceship more than any other vehicle Daeron had ever seen. If he was ever unlucky enough to be standing behind it when someone turned the engine on, he’d pretty sure he’d get his eyebrows burned off or something. There was a Rolls-Royce parked next to it, painted a more subtle shade of midnight purple. Behind the two, a restored muscle car sat alongside an old hot rod, both opposite shades of green that made Daeron feel itchy to look at for some reason, and then came the pickup truck. It was the tallest car he had ever seen, iridescent black-to-green, and fitted with a downright obscene array of racks, lights, and speciality equipment, and with a deer skull mounted to the hood. One yellow Jeep and a small grey SUV looked very out of place at the front of the driveway even though they absolutely should not. Maglor had noticed him looking, so he pointed out who each car belonged to, but Daeron was so overwhelmed that everything went completely over his head. He did manage to pick out that the normal-looking ones belonged to Maedhros and to Maglor’s mother, though, and that was the only thing his overwhelmed brain could think of clinging onto. At least two of these people were a little bit normal-ish, at least. He could do this. While he stood staring at the cars, Maglor went on ahead, and he had to scurry to catch up. “Aren’t your parents divorced?” “Yeah.” Maglor gave him a look like that was the dumbest question he’d ever heard. For just a brief moment, Daeron worried it was, until he remembered which of them had a better handle on average family dynamics (ironically, it was the one without a family). “Then why is your mom coming to dinner?” “Why wouldn’t she?” They stopped in front of a big metal door, on what was the most intimidating porch he had ever seen. “She comes every month.” Daeron started to tell him that was weird, but Maglor was already reaching out to open the door, and he didn’t want to be overheard, so he just canned it and tried to look polite. As soon as the knob turned, Daeron was attacked by what appeared to be a red-brown blur. It burst from the cracked door and rammed into his chest with enough force to easily through him to the concrete, and Daeron couldn’t muffle a cry when he saw the glint of cruel yellow teeth and eyes belonging to a creature that knew exactly where it had to bite to end his life. Hot breath panted across his face, and a single line of drool drizzled nicely across the bridge of his nose. He was about to actually scream when he heard a sharp whistle and an even sharper voice. “Huan!” Immediately the creature bounded off Daeron’s chest and pranced out of sight. He only realized it was a dog when he saw the bristle tail swishing happily behind it. Maglor appeared above him instead, face swimming with concern. “Oh Valar. Are you okay?” “Sorry, chief!” Someone shouldered Maglor out of the way to fill Daeron’s view himself. One of the brothers already. Wonderful. “He’s still a puppy. Thinks everyone wants to play. I’m sure you know how that is!” The newcomer had the same basic facial features as Maglor, but he looked sharper all over, from the jaw to the cheekbones, even the teeth. When he grinned, Daeron got the impression he was a rabbit being played with before the meal. His hair was an unusual shade of pale blond, not quite Sindar silver, which Daeron had never seen on a Noldo before. It was almost white and caught the red of the sunset like melted wax. When Daeron realized he was being offered a hand, he took it and let Mystery Fëanorian Number One lift him to his feet. “You must be Mags’s new guy, huh?” The predatory grin flashed again. It was probably supposed to be disarming, but it put Daeron so on edge he jumped when the man clapped him on the shoulder. “Sindar, huh? Excellent. Amrod is going to owe me thirty bucks. Hey, Caranthir really isn’t going to like this, Mags.” He glanced around Daeron to where Maglor was standing stiff and awkward, face a mask of horrified embarrassment. “Dad probably won’t either.” “Celegorm...” Maglor finally groaned. His brother didn’t let him finish. “Hey, either of you want a smoke?” He tugged a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his worn-down jeans and held it towards the two of them. Because he was wearing just a white t-shirt that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a couple weeks, Daeron could see plenty of exposed skin, and the tattoos that covered Celegorm head to toe. Lots of deers, trees, wolves, and the like, though he did spot a rifle or two and a couple naked ladies as well. He had the words “WOLF PACK” printed across his knuckles. “No, thank you,” Maglor said flatly as he reached over to rest his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders. Daeron relaxed just a little bit at the touch. “Suit yourself.” Celegorm shrugged. He patted his thigh and the massive red dog came trotting over again; Daeron swore it gave him a dirty look as it followed its master by. “Have fun in there,” called Celegorm over his shoulder. “It’s just starting to kick off.” Daeron waited until he and his dog had wandered out of earshot before he managed a few strangled words. “Is he the one who... fucked Oromë?” “Yep, that’s him.” Daeron stared, dumbfounded, and slowly shook his head. “Charming.” “Do you still want to go inside?” Maglor asked weakly, and Daeron just nodded. He had come this far. Time to dive in.

#jenga makes junk #fic #modern au #daeron #maglor #daemags #maglor x daeron #celegorm #huan #feanorians #my partner read the first part and said they felt like it was a jab at them so :(

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91percentpynch · 3 years

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jean moreau x pride months

happy pride month kids, here‘s some wholesome jerejean content for your soul!! does this make any sense? no. is it a mess? yes. hope you enjoy this!!

the first pride month

it‘s the beginning of june and jeremy starts acting weird

he smiles more, the real smile normally reserved for winning an exy game or when he‘s alone with jean

he started drawing flags on his face or on his eye lids, jeremy never wore make-up, not more than his usual eyeliner and nail polish

„what does that mean?“, jean asks, pointing at the flags on his cheeks.

„the pink, yellow, blue one means i‘m pan. you know, i like more than one gender, i told you that already. and the grey, purple, white and black one that looks like an arrow? that means i‘m demisexual, you know how i only feel sexual attraction to people i have a bond with? that‘s demisexual. those are pride flags, it‘s pride month. didn‘t you know that?“

of course jean didn‘t know, after all he was locked up in a bassement for 10 years and he didn‘t exactly talk the first time he came over here last year at the end of june.

„what‘s pride month?“, jean asked softly, knowing that jeremy would never judge him, never think he was stupid.

„it‘s a month for lgbtqa+ folks. that stands for lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgender, questioning, asexuals, aromantics and everything inbetween. we celebrate ourselves this month, show how proud we are of ourselves and our community. we celebrate marsh johnson, the black transgender, gay sex worker who started the riots, stonewell, and basically threw a brick at a police officer and started the fight for gay rights“

„how do you know you‘re not straight?“, jean asked quietly. thinking about the way his mind keeps wandering back to jeremy, keeps wandering back to the thought of kissing him, holding his hand, the feeling of his soft, badly dyed ginger hair between his fingers.

„well i always payed more attention to the personality, than the gender. i never really cared what‘s between the legs. and it took me quite a while to figure out that i only feel sexual attraction to people when i have a connection to them“

„have you ever kissed a guy?“, jean asked, curiously now. in the nest it was forbidden, but kevin wanted to try it once, in the dark of the night, the saftey of their room. jean couldn‘t tell if he enjoyed it or not, he never really felt any kind of attraction really. only bone deep fear. burning anger. and whatever the fuck his heart was doing when kevin held him close.

„yeah, i had a boyfriend throughout highschool, sophmore year until the end of summer of our senior year. and then freshman year of college i had this girlfriend who was really controlling and yeah. that‘s it. have you?“, his voice was soft, it reminded jean of the sunlight forming some kind of halo behind jeremy.

„kevin wanted to try it once. riko caught us. that‘s how it began“, jean replied, a shadow crossing over both his and jeremy‘s face. in a moment of weakness, at the beginning, jean told jeremy what they did to him in the nest, after jeremy accidentally touched him from behind.

„do you want to try it again?“, jeremy asked, a small smile on his lips. „with me, that is“, he added, barely audible.

„okay“, jean replied, leaning in.

jean was a couple inches taller than jeremy, and jeremy had to stand on his tiptoes to close the last few inches between them.

it was a soft kiss, a different than the stolen ones from kevin. better. these tasted like sunlight, like warmth, like home.

jean kissed jeremy back. carefully, softly, being scared he would break him, destroy him with his darkness.

„how was it?“, jeremy smiled at him after they were done, exchanging kisses, not stealing them. they were equals, no one would hurt him for wanting this

„i think i‘m only attracted to you“, jean admitted quietly. „but like not sexually. i don‘t like sex. never did. i never thought anyone was sexually attractive, i never wanted this and i still don‘t. i‘m sorry“

„you don‘t have to apologize, jean. that‘s being called asexual, the lack of sexual attraciton that is. and the not wanting sex part? sex repulsed. very valid. i will never be like them, i will never force you to do anyhting you‘re not comfortable with“

„and what if you miss having sex and want it and i can‘t give it to you?“, jean asked, tears burning behind his eyes. „i‘m not worth of your light, your warmth, your love as it is. i‘m broken, i‘m dark, i‘m everything you don‘t deserve. you deserve someone who is fixed and happy and can give you the entire world and go places without a panic attack and and and“

„ssh, jean. it‘s alright. it‘s alright. i want you. no one but you. i really, really like you and i am glad you like me to. you‘re not broken, you‘re not dark. you are wonderful. and no one is fixed, we‘re all a little broken in our own ways. i struggled with an eating disorder. i have adhd. sometimes i feel a little sad without any reason and can‘t get out of bed. sometimes i can‘t sleep and other days i could sleep for days. i don‘t need the entire world, i just need you“

it was this june, about a year after jean arrived in california, that he not only found a person who saw more in him than his scars, but a person who loved him not despite of them but for them

the second pride month

it‘s been a year since jean and jeremy kissed for the first time. a year full of highs and lows, fights and making up, miscommunication and cuddles, sweet kisses and ones tasting of tears. but it was also the year jean figured out that he might not be a boy after all.

„do you ever feel like you‘re not a entirely a boy?“, jean asked softly, threading his fingers through jeremy‘s soft blonde hair.

„dude, i‘m genderfluid, remember? alvarez bursted in our room and threw these in our face so people could refer to me with the right pronouns“

„that‘s why you changed your middle name to sol isn‘t it? because you like the sun and you like your hispanic heritage and it‘s a female name?“

„exactamente mi corazón“

„what are you today?“, jean asked softly, as he did every day.

„they/them, i don‘t feel like a guy or a girl today. just vibing“

„i- i think i‘m not entirely a boy either. like i know i was born as a boy and i‘m okay with that. but i feel like there‘s more to that. i can‘t put it in words but i think i want to try to go by he/ they. what do you call those people who don‘t quite find in the binary? i think i‘m that“

„that‘s nonbinary darling. i‘m proud of you. you‘re doing great“

jean didn‘t know how to repeat to that so he just decided to pull jeremy closer to him.

this pride month jean found a little part of himself, another puzzle piece to the mystery that his own person and it felt like a tiny little step towards a future he never dreamt he would have.

it was also the month he started wearing nail polish, because he loved the look on jeremy‘s face when they did them. occasionally he will wear some eyeliner.

the third pride month

another year passed, this year jean got himself a support dog. to help with the anxiety attacks. to help him heal.

it‘s a dalmatiner, called luna. she was trained to feel when he is uncomfortable and come closer to him, licking his hands, being close, being there

it is also the month he wanted to join jeremy for pride

„what are you today?“

„a girl i think. jeremy or sol are both fine“

„will you draw the flags on my face?“, he asked on the day of the parade.

„are you sure you want to go honey?“, sol asked softy, while she went to the bathroom to get her things.

„would i have asked if it wasn‘t moi amour?“, jean replied. „wait hold on, don‘t answer that“, he laughed looking at jeremy‘s face.

„but i‘m sure. first of all it makes you happy. second of all you missed it the last two years. third of all it will piss kevin off and i love that almost as much as i love. and lastly i have luna, she makes sure i‘m fine and i can always leave when i feel uncomfortable“

„okay, babe. what do you want me to do?“

„i want my flags on my face and maybe you can do my nails“, jean replied, smiling at jeremy as he did ever so often. „cover the tatoo, will you?“, he asked softly, touching the cursed three, counting the days for his cover up appointment in july.

„it‘s soon gone honey. it‘s gonna be alright“, jeremy whispered, feeling the tension in jean‘s shoulders.

„which color do you want your nails? mine are pastel rainbow look! alvarez got me those for my birthday last month! do you want matching nails?“

„whatever you want darling, you can choose“

„neat!“

this year jeremy‘s hair were a soft pink. it was 2 am when he bursted into the room whisper shouting „jean i‘m gay i must do something drastic to my hair. help me?“ and who was jean to question his beautiful date mate.

so jeremy took jean‘s face carefully in his hands, starting to draw jean‘s pride flags (demiromantic, asexual, nonbinary) on his face, hiding his tattoo underneath the black/ white/grey/ purple stripes of the asexual pride flag.

„they have no power over you anymore mi corazón. and if anyone gives you shit i will come for them“, jeremy whisperes against jean‘s lips before softly kissing them. „and now give me your beautiful hands so i can do your nails. i‘m feeling a pastel rainbow“

for the parade jean is wearing one of the shirts jeremy got him. it‘s yellow with a rainbow on it. „so you have a little brightness in your life“, he would tell him when he go it for him. it was before they started dating. it was before jean was able to tell him „but you are the brightest thing in the world and somehow you chose me as your person“, paired with light blue ripped jeans and his yellow fans. they started wearing yellow when they came to california, cutting off black completely, replacing it with colors and brightness.

jeremy on the other hand wore rainbow dungarees with a white shirt and white doc martens. his hair was up in two space buns, little pride flags put into them.

„do you think they get the hint?“, she smiled with a blinding smile.

„you‘re so unbelieveably beautiful sol“, jean replied.

they got luna and went to the parade.

it was scary, yes. but it was also beautiful.

people approaching them, asking for selfies, talking to him.

at first he was a bit anxious, but sol took their hand and luna licked his feet and it was alright. no one was hurting him. no one would punish him. he was surrounded by pride and love and happiness.

at some point he asked a girl with rainbow hair, she reminded him of renee, if she could take a picture of him and jeremy. she said yes, took one of them smiling, one of them kissing, and one of them where jeremy just smiled at his person.

it was the pride month he came out via social media. it was the pride month kevin called at two am, telling him how happy he was for them. that he himself found a boy, fell for him, but is too much a coward to do something about it. it‘s the year where he gets a lot of love, many fans telling him how proud they are of him and at least the same amount of hate. but it was alright. they had jeremy and that was all that truly mattered.

now

year after year they returned to the pride parade, with flags on their faces, or around their shoulders

sometimes neil and andrew or aaron and kevin would join them, sometimes they would go with laila and alvarez and sometimes jean and jeremy would go on their own

after college jean quit exy, jeremy went pro and gave his money to moriyamas, while jean opened his own tattoo studio, wrote songs, wrote crappy poetry and slightly better novels, tried himself as a part time model and fashion designer

they found happiness and home in each other and celebrated their love not only in pride but also every single day of the year

jean and jeremy got more dogs, an apartment of their own with big windows so they could watch the sunrise and sunset together

they have their ups and downs, like every other couple, but that doesn‘t matter. never did. what truly matters is that they keep finding back to each other. that they keep ending up in the same bed, in each others arms.

jean moreau never believed in love, never believed in soulmates and yet he found their soulmate, found the love of his life. and they are happy they stayed, kept fighting, to find this. to make a difference to the world. to be finally free. to be alive, living instead of only existing.

„jean?“, jermey says, fidgeting with his fingers.

„what is it moi soleil?“, jean relies getting lost in these ocean blue eyes.

„do you remember what happened five years ago?“, jeremy asks, his eyes looking anywhere but jean.

„we kissed for the first time?“, jean answers, panic slowly crawling through his veins.

„exactly so i thought we could celebrate this at the beach. you know, where our first date was?“, jeremy says nervously.

„honey are you alrighgt?“, jean is getting more and more worried, jeremy has never been that nervous.

„sure, come on mi corazón“

so jean slowly gets up and carefully puts on his shoes. something is weird here, something is wrong

jeremy seems off the entire ride to the beach they had their first date at.

when they arrive jean takes jeremy‘s hand, noticing that they are shaking ever so slightly. it is something like a nervous tick of them.

jean and jeremy arrive at the beach in time to watch the sun setting, making place for her lover the moon.

jean looks over to jeremy, when they suddenly get up and start pacing.

„jer, you‘re scaring me. please tell me what‘s going on up there“, jean says touching his head lightly.

„okay. i can do this“, jeremy mumbles as he gets down on his knee. „jean moreau, you are the love of my life. the light of my existence. ever since i saw you for the first time i knew i liked you, more than i was supposed to. i never dared to hope you would ever like me, or love me for that matter, but somehow you did. somehow you didn‘t turn away when i told you i‘m demi or pan or genderfluid. you stayed. you supported me. you love me. and i want to spend the rest of my life with you, so do me the favour and in the name of god, should they exist, do me the favour and marry me“

jean feels tears running his cheeks. „of course i will marry you, you loser“, he laughs, as he pulls jeremy down to him and connects their lips together. and it feels like their first kiss. it always does. and they would do that for the rest of their lives.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king’s men #jeremy knox #jean moreau #jerejean #jeremy knox x jean moreau #ship: jerejean

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jinxedpanda4life · 4 years

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DamiRae Hospital AU?

No I am not writing one, if I could write well I would though! So here are some HCs for a hospital AU. If someone decides to write this then I’ll be your first reader. Also I am sort of basing things off of Grey’s Anatomy just a bit and my limited knowledge of the medical field.

- Starts of as 1st year residents, specialties may vary

- The “Titans” are residents and 1st years that show great promise, this doesn’t really play a role its just what people call them behind their backs

- Dr. Kori Anders is a OBGYN (women parts and birth) resident, a year or two away from finishing

- Dr. Richard “Dick” Grayson is is a surgery resident, trained by the hospital owner Bruce Wayne (who is a world renowned surgeon, has awards, etc), specifically general surgery

- Dr. Garfield Logan is pediatrician (kid doctor) res, bonds well with kids, but is considering going back to school to become a vet instead

- Dr. Jaime Reyes is an oncology (cancer doctor), having had cancer as a teen and is now forever trying to rid the world of it, works mostly with kids and teens

- Dr. Jonathan Kent is a physical therapist that works with pain management. Up beat guy and is always trying to brighten his patient’s lives.

- Dr. Damian Wayne is a surgical intern, blood thirsty little thing, hoping to become a neurosurgeon (brain, spine) (or cardiothoracic (heart, lungs) both are competitive)

- Dr. Raven Roth is an anesthesiologist (the drug person that knocks you out) and is starting her surgical internship (she wanted to do more than just help people get high essentially or whatever) has no current preference for any specific surgical field

- Add in characters:

-- Dr. Jason Todd, trauma surgeon (fits too well)

-- Dr. Timothy Drake diagnostician (medical detective basically)

-- Dr. Donna Troy gynecologist

-- Terra Markov is a nurse (i don’t like Terra but nurses are the actual best)

- Story stuff:

- Damian and Raven meet as they are put under the guidance of the same resident

-Damian has an automatic dislike for Raven because she knows everyone already and is equally, if not much more, knowledgable about surgery, the OR, the ER, protocol, etc He also thinks she is cold because she rarely shows emotion (pot kettle Damian)

- Raven can always be found in the medical archives researching old cases and studying new ones, Damian stumbles upon her when looking for an old cardiomegaly case (enlarged heart).

- Raven gets along with all of the past ‘Robins’ making her a go to intern

- Garfield can be seen whenever he is not needed trying to flirt with Nurse Markov and often goes to Raven to sulk

- Damian and Raven are always early to pre-rounds and are typically the first ones there (usually early in the morning, getting there before 500)

- Jon bumps into Damian more often than not and they start becoming friends (Damian is reluctant at first and is still you know Damian about everything), Damian even recommends patients to him

- Though Damian doesn’t want to really ‘hang out’ with anyone he reluctantly hangs out with the Titans, because of Jon and Dick

- When in a large group when at a bar, club or whatever Damian tends to stay close to Raven because 1) they actually have things to talk about 2) she isn’t loud

- Raven & Damian are both assigned to a case that is frankly befuddling and have to start spending long nights and early mornings together to figure it out

- Over that period of time they learn things about each other:

-- Raven learns:

Damian has a dog (Titus) and cat (Alfred)

He is single (Kori told her) and lives in an apartment close to the hospital

He has lived in various countries

He is trained in multiple martial arts

He prefers his tea with brown sugar and a slice of lemon

His eyes are a true emerald color with a ring of gold and flecks scattered within

He may hide it well but when Raven compliments him he becomes flustered

He speaks to himself in Arabic when he curses, trying to remember something, doesn’t want anyone to know what he is saying

He isn’t always an asshole

When he actually smiles a true and genuine smile, she has heart palpitations

-- Damian learns:

Raven has two tattoos (neither are a bird), a gang tat (she is saving up to get it removed), and a mantra in Azarathian; Azarath Metrion Zinthos

She immigrated from Azarath when she was around 8

Her notes are in Azarathian

She actually feels a lot of emotion and knows how to control them

If she is not reading about a current or past case she is reading any book or file she can get her hands on, he has caught her reading in multiple different languages; Azarathian, English, French, Russian, Arabic, Dutch, Mandarin, (could be more or less)

She lives alone and has a cat, Nevermore, and thanks to Dick he already knew she was single

She likes all tea, no matter how prepared, but prefers the sweetener to be honey

Her hair is black but shines purple, especially under the ER lights

Her eyes are a purple that at first glance look blue, like Elizabeth Taylor, he realizes though her eyes are galaxies on their own

When she smiles the world actually stops moving, her eyes shine like stars and he never wants the world to start moving again

She always wears a necklace with a gold and ruby ring at all times (it was her mother’s wedding ring)

- When Damian starts having le feelings for Raven he considers actually seeking medical advice as this has never happened to him before

- Raven tries her best to contain her feelings when at work, going so far as one day a month staying home just to scream, cry and feel her feelings

- It does not help that new feelings towards Damian start popping up, especially since he starts bringing her tea and hanging out with her at work

- During the middle of their 2nd year of residency someone holds Raven hostage in the hospital to fix someone that person loves (this person had connections to Trigon and knew who Raven was)

- That was not a fun time for either Damian or Raven; Damian was outside the hospital pacing trying to figure something out with the other Titans trying to calm themselves and him down

- Shots are fired and when all is said and done, Raven gets shot in the abdomen and the hand (she was in ICU for a hot sec)

- Damian seemed to be there every time Raven woke up, he was always checking on her during rounds even though he wasn’t on her case

- Raven did have to have surgery on her hand and in her abdomen (idk where i’m not getting that specific), she hated being, in her words, coddled

- Even though Raven was right handed (the one that got shot) she learned how to do everything, writing, eating, going to the bathroom, etc. (many of the other residents are impressed since she keeps working on it after her other hand heals)

- Raven’s room also becomes a space for other residents to destress and just vent about their day. She listens and gives advice, all without looking up from whatever she was doing.

- During this time Raven becomes hooked on Pretty Pretty Pegasus

- Raven’s room is also full of cards, flowers, etc all from fellow staff and some from patients. When she leaves (she spends a couple weeks in thanks to multiple surgeries, recovery, and other minor injuries) all of the gifts litter her apartment, the cards end up in a box by her desk, she presses the flowers, and stuffed animals are donated to children’s shelter (she keeps some that she has grown attached to)

- During this time Damian is more of an ass than usual (people notice and tease him)

- Damian at some points keeps working without breaks/sleep for hours on end. Dick pulls him aside after noticing, scolds and forces him to sleep in one of the on call rooms. (He really wanted him to go home, but Damian wasn’t leaving)

- Once Raven was discharged Damian and Garfield help her back home (clothes + gifts + Raven w/a healing hand/other injuries = need help) the other Titans would have helped but were needed at the hospital

- Garfield leaves after dropping off Raven and Damian (and her stuff) as he is called in on a Peds case (could be fake, may not be) and Raven & Damian spend the rest of the time basically watching terrible movies. (with Nevermore sitting on both of them)

- That is the night Damian realizes that not only does he like Raven, but he like likes her. He starts devising plans on how to get her to date him.

- All his plans basically are thrown out the window because of one reason or another (he kept overthinking it)(poor guy)

- It is not until their 3rd year of residency that Raven realizes her feelings towards Damian (Have I made it clear she likes him? I can’t remember...)

- She realizes her feelings when she has to crash at his place for a night (because he lives ridiculously close to the hospital, like how expensive is that??) and he tries to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible

- She never realized how much he cared for her? Like she was always helping him out and there for him but she never realized he reciprocated that care? *Shocker*

- Raven becomes kind of a mess because of all her emotions that she is trying to bottle up. (all the corks are disintegrating and the jar is overflowing)

- Raven is during her Ortho rotation (bone surgeon people, they are cool, ik from experience) that she actually gets a good release for her emotions (setting peoples bones and drilling and hammering in pins is actually therapeutic)

- Raven thinks that may be the specialty she chooses

- Damian saw her as a mess and could not fathom why she was said mess, he figured it was about a romantic interest after someone made an offhand comment about her love life and she became a blubbering mess (very un-Raven like)

- After all of well *motions with hands* that Raven asks why Damian doesn’t have a s/o or someone

- He says there is only person that he has been meaning to ask out (looks pointedly at Raven)

- All Raven says is “Go for it.”

And that is where my HCs end. Now if anyone who happens upon this post decides to write a Medical AU with any of these please tag me, tell me, message me.

You do not have to give me credit, I just want to read it.

This took me a couple of days to write up, so if it is disjointed I apologize.

If anything needs to be corrected for any reason let me know!

I hope this fuels some imaginations!

-I may post more HC AU things if they come to mind, we will have to see.

#damirae #damian x raven #demonbirds #teen titans #raven #damian wayne #rachel roth #headcanon #medical au #au

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jinxxedwammys · 3 years

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Ok hear me out. I’ve listened to “Sway with me (slowed)” by Cytus II and I have this whole imagine of the reader at a masquerade ball as an undercover agent, and as The Wammy Bois (preferably L or Near) S/O or crush. Well the situation turns for the worst and L (or near) rushes out into the party (he was originally watching on cams) to get a hold of the situation to either like confront the Bad Guy or just protect the reader. Idk I think about it when I listen to the song. Love your writing btw

Aww thanks anon, I'm glad you like my writing! And damn, I like this one a lot! This calls for a fic. Thanks for requesting! (Not me accidentally making this somewhat like that ball scene in Black Butler.. oof)

For this I chose L and decided not to do Near, I hope that's okay.

Warnings: Mentions of human trafficking, Main antagonist being a creep, daggers.

(Image from some wallpaper site and very lightly and badly edited with befunky)

The night was young, the sun had only just set below the horizon plunging the city into darkness. At 8PM this night there was a masquerade ball at a very wealthy businessman's mansion. As all the high society guests exited their limousines and luxury cars escorted by servants you stood staring at the lavish mansion.

"I feel so out of place here... Do I really blend in enough?" You quietly asked Watari who stood beside you as your "servant". You shifted uncomfortably and looked to him for an answer.

"Yes, of course you do. You fit in very well. Please do not worry, I'm sure you will be alright in there." He bowed before reentering the drivers seat of the vehicle you'd arrived in. You took a deep breath before carefully ascending the marble stairs leading to he door. Before you could be noticed by anyone in particular, you placed the earpiece you had been provided in your ear disguising it with your hair.

Unlike the other guests, tonight wasn't about enjoyment or entertainment for you. You were assisting with an investigation into one of the high class men attending this party known as Daniel Grant. He had been suspected of human trafficking, though it seems he had been doing more than just that. A recent investigation by the private investigator known only to the public as L suggested that he may potentially be behind multiple murders in the area. As it happens, you were the lynchpin in solving this case and getting the evidence needed to put Daniel Grant and all involved behind bars.

He seemed to target young people between the ages of 18 and 25. As it happens, you were perfect for that role. You were also a police officer. So only two weeks ago, you had been asked to assist the one and only L. Of course, when he contacted you, you were overjoyed. Finally, something more interesting than petty crime! But now, as you entered the lavish mansion you were far less confident than you were when you initially joined.

You knew L was watching the camera feeds from the CCTV system, but it still didn't calm your nerves. You nervously approached the table where the guest sign in book was placed, carefully signing your alias. Then you made your way to the ballroom where the party was held. You took a deep breath and adjusted your mask before entering into the room.

Inside, everyone was chatting amongst themselves every single person dressed very formally, women in beautiful ballgowns, men in fancy suits. Every single one wore a masquerade mask, some plain and simple, some adorned with gemstones, lace and other ornate designs. Everyone went silent when one man tapped his glass with a fork.

"Hello everyone, I'd like to thank you for attending tonight. Thank you all for celebrating my niece's 20th birthday with us" He motioned to a young girl blonde girl wearing a dark pink dress with a black lace mask. Everyone gave a short applause in response. "Please enjoy yourselves" He bowed slightly. You hadn't known this was a birthday party beforehand. You wondered what Daniel Grant had to do with this girl. About 20 minutes into the party, you decided to check in with L as you hadn't heard a thing from him since you arrived. You excused yourself to the bathroom.

"L are you listening?" You asked quietly and waited for a response.

"Yes, I am, is anything wrong?" He asked. You shook your head before you realized he couldn't see you right now, there were no cameras in the bathroom.

"N..No, I haven't seen Daniel yet either... I was just making sure you were there." you hurriedly replied.

"Mmh, I'll guide you to him if you would like, I can see him on the cameras." He replied clearly eating something.

"Okay, please do!" You left the bathroom and reentered the ballroom doing your best to hide the fact that you were scanning the room for the suspect. L's voice came over the earpiece again, this time instructing you to look for a woman in an emerald green dress near the center of the room. You entered the crowd of guests. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw the woman L had been talking about. She was in fact talking to Daniel Grant. They seemed to know each other. You stayed back, waiting for L to say something.

"Seems like you found them, stay back for a little while, I'll tell you when to approach" He said. You of course didn't respond since you were surrounded by others in earshot. You casually checked your pockets and approached another guest making small talk to kill time. You had taken your eyes off of him for a second, and the moment you looked back, the niece was talking to him. L seemed to notice as well.

"Daniel is currently talking to an important innocent. Please intervene now." You looked around the room before casually approaching the two.

"Hello, I came to wish you a happy birthday!" You said, sort of putting yourself between them. She nodded, thanking you and went back to talking with Daniel. You sighed in annoyance, but persisted.

"Hey, could you by any chance show me to the washroom? I've been looking for it and I just can't find it" You asked. She looked at Daniel, excusing herself from their conversation before leading you to said washroom.

"I'm sorry for inconveniencing you... Oh.. and I think it would be best if you stayed away from that man." She gave you a quizzical look.

"Why is that? He's one of my mother's friends." She asked. You were kind of shocked. Another detail L had left out. You questioned if he trusted you before ultimately banishing the thought. Of course he trusted you. You wouldn't be the one confronting the guy if he didn't.

"Just trust me, he's no good" You warned. It was clear that she didn't take your words seriously whatsoever. She scoffed and left. Now what? You wondered. And just like that, L's voice came through again.

"I want you to talk to him, try your best to get him away from her." Immediately you left the bathroom and made your way back to the ballroom again. By now, there were a few people dancing. Unfortunately Daniel seemed to be one of them, but you had a plan. Dance your way to him! You started off with a tall man with a purple tie, then to an average height lady in a light blue dress, then a lady with a fuchsia pink dress, and so on until finally, you were dancing with Daniel.

"You're the person who rudely interrupted my lovely conversation with the guest of honor" He observed. His voice was cold, though there was a tinge of intrigue.

"And what of it?" You sort of snapped. He smirked, it sent chills up your spine. You backed away slightly, but he closed the distance.

"Oooh, I like them feisty" He growled into your ear. You couldn't help your face twisting in disgust at that.

"Why don't we go... somewhere more private" He suggested. It was then that L's voice came on through your earpiece.

"Go with him, I want to see what he'll do" You gulped. You really didn't want to go anywhere with that creep. But L's orders... You nodded and Daniel led you upstairs. You both stood in front of a bedroom door. He opened it, directing you to go inside. As you did, his eyes seemed to undress you. It was then that he took out a dagger holding it to your neck.

Meanwhile, L sat in his temporary investigation headquarters observing your actions. He had just stuck a piece of cake in his mouth when you had been attacked. He had not expected Daniel to be armed. You were in grave danger and he knew it. He immediately stood up, the fork clattered to the ground and the plate the cake had been on shattered as it hit the floor. He didn't care.

"Y/N, hang in there, I'll be there soon" he quickly said to you before rushing to get Watari and speed off to the party. The car ride seemed to take forever. Every second of it, he watched and listened. Daniel seemed to be just threatening you for the time being, but at any second, he might just kill you. The very second they arrived, L clumsily jumped out of the car and rushed up the stairs to the manor, past the guards outside and up another flight of stairs to where you were.

L had for the first time in his life, brought a gun in case things got even more ugly, but he doubted he'd need it. Daniel didn't seem like the type to be bold enough to kill in front of another person. Even so, he gripped the gun before entering.

"Let them go!" L commanded. Daniel's head snapped in his direction.

"Get out, this is none of your business" Daniel said, turning back to you.

"It is my business, that happens to by my significant other you have there." You blinked. Significant other? Is he acting? You thought before mentally reprimanding yourself for thinking that now. L moved a little closer.

"Oh.... She is... I'm sorry" Daniel backed away. It was kind of comical how he looked like a scolded dog. You stood up and walked towards L, glancing back a few times at Daniel to ensure he wasn't going to get violent again. And without another word, L led you out of the manor to safety. Though there was one question burning in your chest. When you were safely in the car you decided to voice it.

"L... Do you actually like me?" L turned to you, his expression was completely unreadable.

"Yes" He said almost monotonously. But that was good enough for you.

#death note #death note x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #short story

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